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The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes ou les planches trop grandes pour dtre reproduites en un seul clich6 sont filmdes d partir de Tangle sup6rieure gauche, de gauche d droits et de haut en bas. en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Le diagramme suivant illustre la m6thode : 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 -r SMILES AND TEARS: OB »%xitW %tm %u\ ^Mu BY REV. E. BARE ASS, M.A.. Author of ** Galley of Distinguished Men;^ d-c. ' WITH INTRODUCTION BY REV. W. H. WITHROW, M.A. FIRST SERIES. TORONTO : HUNTER, ROSE & CO. 1879. ^Id at the Methodist Book Rooms, Toronto, Montreal and Halifax. ' 5KE PRINTED AND BOUND BY UuNTEK, Rose & Co., TORONTO. CONTENTS. Preface '^'''^ V Introduction Vll Chapter i. The Happy Pilgrim Chapter li. The Dutiful Son 32 Chapter in. TheOld Horse g Chapter IV. Sportsman's Lodge ^j Chapter V. The Runaway Tailor ^^ ■ I— I— PW iv CONTENTS, Chapter VI. PAGE Bachelors' Hall 94 Chapter VII. The Model Minister 109 Chapter VIII. ^ 'The Delinquent 129 Chapter IX. Missionary Singers 144 Chapter X. Jethro 154 Chapter XI. Three Beacons 167 Chapter XII. Old Nanny Brown 184 PEEFACE. IT has often been said, that truth is stranger than fiction. All fiction professes to be truthful, though it is to be feared that this is only partially correct, as fictitious writers often caricature, when they profess to por- tray. Many books of fiction are made up of chaff in which^only a few grains of wheat are concealed. No book should be read, if it has not a good moral tendency. Juvenile criminals have often charged their ruin upon immoral books. All the Sketches contained ... this little book are narratives of persons and events, well known to the writer. He has given fie- rr yi PREFACE, titious names to persons and places, but these are all the liberties he has taken. All that is herein narrated is true to the letter : nothing is stated but what really occurred. The writer believes that the reading of his little book will do good. For this purpose he has written it, and prays that it may «ic complish the end intended. E. B. INTRODUCTION. nnHE proper study of mankind is man, is an aphorism of profoundest wisdom. The virtues of the good are an incentive to duty. The vices and follies of the wicked are beacons against sin. In this volume, the writer has given examples of parties, that are an in- spiration to a holier life, and examples of evil, that are a warning of its awful retributions. Few persons have better opportunities of observing the varied phases of life— tragic or humorous, grave or gay— than a Method- ist minister. He' has peculiar facilities for prosecuting this " proper study of mankind," viii INTRODUCTION, among both the lofty and lowly, the cultured and the unrefined. The author of this volume, with powers of observation of unusual acuteness, posbesses powers of description of unusual vividness. He presents here a sheaf from the gleanings of a lengthened observation and experience. It will be found to contain, intermingled with flowers of fancy, wholesome herbs of grace, together with the fine wheat of true wisdom. It will, we doubt not, benefit both head and heart, and instruct and edify while it will greatly entertain. W. H. WiTHRow, M. A. Toronto, June, 1878. SMILES AND TEARS; OR, SKETCHES FROM REAL LIFE. CHAPTER I. THE HAPPY PILGRIM. PVERYBODY wants tobe happy. Many J-^ however, adopt strange methods to reach the goal on which they have set their affections. We should suppose that if our fellow-men would but calmly think what they are doing, a moment's reflection would convince them that they could sooner gather figs from thistles, than they could obtain true, abiding enjoyment, by the pur- suits which they are following. Dr. Young B I lo THE HAPPY PILGRIM. "Honour, wealth, and pleasure, Are three demons which torment mankind." And yet it is a melancholy fact, that these are the objects, the possession of which is supposed to contain those elements which will give happiness. It is well known that all these are difficult to acquire, but far worse to retain, and when enjoyed to the greatest extent, they leave a vacuum, which makes the possessor say with Solomon, ** Vanity of vanities, all is vanity/' Where, then, can true happiness be found ? The Bible tells us " Happy is the man that findeth wisdom." The olessedness of such a man may be seen by reading Proverbs iii : 13-18. Of such an one we might well say, as did the Royal Psalmist, " Happy are the people that are in such a case, yea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord." It is the business of the pulpit to clearly explain that the possession of the religion of the Bible, is the only satisfying portion that mor- tal man can possess. But how often do we find that even intelligent persons act as though THE HAPPY PILGRIM. II youth was the period of pleasure, manhood the time for business, and old age the season for religious enjoyment. But can a greater absurdity be entertained ? We are afraid that young people especially judge' of religion from what they see in some of those who profess to enjoy it, rather than from the description which is given respect- ing it in the Holy Scriptures. We frankly confess that we would not like to form an opinion of religion from what we have seen in the conduct of some who call themselves Christians. Their conversation is not always such as becometh the Gospel. They are not upright in their dealings. They are selfish and petulant, and easily offended. They will take advantage of the necessities of others, when they can gain a few dollars by doing so. And even of those who would not be guilty of such acts of delinquency as those men- tioned, how many of them are full of com- plainings. They are full of fears and anxie- ties, and seldom speak but in a groaning [ 1 i t2 THE HAPPY PILGRIM, manner, and imagine that nobody has such afflictions to bear as fall to their lot. If you were to believe them, you might suppose they have to carry the burdens of ten thou- sand persons upon their shoulders. If they relate their religious experience in Love-feast or Class-meeting, they will detail temptations minutely, explain the many heavy crosses which they have to carry, and make out to their own complete satisfaction, that this world is indeed full of briars and thorns ; but hardly will they say one word about their de- light in the Lord, their love to the ordinances of religion, and the sweet enjoyments of which they partake, while they participate in the communion of saints, or stand on Pisgah's Mount and view by faith the goodly land, which they expect to enjoy when the Lord calls them to enter into rest. We feel sure that the friends of whom we thus write do not intend to do any harm to religion. They would shudder at the very idea of presenting a false portraiture of the heaven-born principle. But they have un- THE HAPPY PILGRIM, 13 happily acquired the bad habit of complain- ing and whining, and the things of this life have occupied so much of their attention, while their heavenly Father has in mercy disappointed their expectations in respect to wealth and position, hence they have imper- ceptibly learned the habit of grumbling and murmuring, instead of " rejoicing in tribula- tion also, knowing that tribulation worketh pptience, and patience experience, and ex- pedience hope, and hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us.'* — Rom. v : 3-5. There have, however, been a good many Christian professors who were really happy. You could read it in their looks. You could hear it in their words. Indeed, their whole life was made up of sunshine. Let the reader reflect for a moment, and -we are much mis- taken if he cannot call up before his . mind the names of a goodly number of persons in different positions in society, who were true Israelites, real saints, persons who, though 14 THE HAPPY PILGRIM, they had all the frailties of human nature, were still exemplary in their lives, for they lived to do good, and they certainly did " deal justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with their God./V It is a source of unspeakable pleasure to us, that, though we have been pained to wit- ness some fearful exhibitions of moral delin- quency, we have known hundreds of whose deportment we were never ashamed, and whose lives were a constant pursuit of holi- ness. The light in them did shine, and all who knew them took knowledge of them that they had been with Jesus. The remaining portion of our present chapter will briefly delineate one of those full-orbed Christians, who was truly a happy man, and was honoured of God in turning many to righte- ousness. Philip Paul Bliss is the person to whom we refer, and as we only had the pleasure of being associated with him for a few days Sunday School Parliament in 1875, we must necessarily be indebted to others for THE HAPPY PILGRIM, IS most of the facts and incidents which we shall relate ; but of their accuracy we have not the slightest doubt. Our readers will remember that Mr. Bliss met with his death at the Ash- tabula catastrophe in December, 1875, about six months after we had formed his acquaint- ance, and anticipated the pleasure of many- other interviews. But, alas ! we shall see him and his sainted wife no more, until, like them, we cross over Jordan and enter the new Jeru- salem, where we doubt not " theymre waiting and watching" for their fellow-travellers from whom they are now separated for a season.. At the time of his death, this happy Chris- tian was only thirty-eight years of age, so that he had not a long term of probation ; but he served his generation faithfully, and then fell asleep in Jesus. He was a native of Pennsylvania, and had not many school ad- vantages in youth. Both his parents were pious, so that he was instructed in the ways of righteousness. If it be true " that poets are born, not made," then undoubtedly P. P. Bliss was a i6 THE HAPPY PILGRIM, born poet, as at an early period of life he manifested a passion for music. He never saw a piano until he was ten years of age, and when he heard the sound of the music which it sent forth, as it was being played by a lady, he was irresistibly drawn into the house from whence he heard the sweet sounds. When the lady stopped play ing, he exclaimed, " Oh ! lady, play some more." She was amazed when he thus spoke, for she was not aware tha# anyone was listening, when, to her surprise, she beheld a full-grown boy stand- ing at the parlour door barefooted, and she spoke to him in a manner of which she must often afterwards have felt ashamed, for she said, " Go out of here with your great feet," and he went away crushed in spirit. His life in youth was one of hard toil, as he worked on farms and at saw-mills; but being desirous of obtaining an education, he tooK care of his small earnings, and embraced every opportunity that presented itself to get knowledge, and such was the proficiency which he made that he became a school y^-i THE HAPPY PILGRIM. 17 teacher before he had reached his twenty- fifth year. All this while, the instruction and example of his parents had kept him from gross sins, and he became a member of a Christian church. He became acquainted with an ex- cellent lady, whom he married in early man- hood, and never regretted taking that impor- tant step, as he found his wife to be a real helpmate in every respect ; and speaking of his marriage, he always said, " it was the very best thing he could have done." Young men had better make a note of this. He did not wait until he was rich before he married, as he was not worth more than fifty dollars at the time; but the possession of riches never made any person happy. He devoted him- self diligently to working on the farm for such wages as he could secure, and at every interval he sought to make himself better qualified for being a teacher of music, for which fine accomplishment, he had already given evidence that he possessed more than ordinary ability. W. B. Bradburj^'he distingu- wmmm i8 Tff£ HAPPY PILGRIM, iW) ished composer of Sunday School music, was of great benefit to him at this time, as he en- couraged him to cultivate his musical talent. He was desirous to attend a Normal Academy of Music, but not having the necessary means, he was afraid that he would be compelled to abandon the idea, and even wept as he thought of the lack of means ', but, just then, a kind lady seeing his sorrow, came to his assistance, and Grandma Allen, as she was called, furnished him with the required amount — thirty dollars — and for the next six weeks he studied night and day at the Normal Aca- demy, and thus became qualified for the great work in which he spent the rest of his days, until he went to sing, in the upper sanctuary, the song of Moses and the Lamb. Little did that dear old lady know what a boon she was conferring upon the world, by thus ad- vancing Mr. Bliss the sum of thirty dollars, and little does anyone know how much good they may be the means of accomplishing, when they speak a kind word, or perform a kind act to a person who is struggling to pr^ake himself of use to his generation, m MB M'g' MCT^ I ' i W THE HAPPY PILGRIM, 19 Mr. Bliss now became a professional music teacher. He quaintly said, " Old Fanny (a horse) and a twenty dollar melodeon fur- nished by Mr. Young set me up in the pro- fession.'* He was industrious and frugal in the use of means, and in a few years earned sufficient to provide a little cottage for his aged parents, and when they were brought to it, the dear old man addressed him and said, " Phil, I never expected to have so good a home on earth as this." Mr. Bliss loved his parents, who belonged to the most rigid of the Puritans, and of them he often said, " I thank God for a godly ancestry." Mr. Bliss still worked as a farm labourer when not engaged with his musical duties. He became a composer of music, and such was his success, that for twelve years he pro- duced some most thrilling pieces, which will be sung in many lands for generations yet to come. Mr. G. F. Root, the publisher of music in Chicago,became acquainted with Mr. Bliss and took him into his employ. This was the reason of his removal to the west 20 THE HAPPY PILGRIM, wh«re a still larger field of usefulness opened before him. He became known henceforth as the leading person in Sunday School and other Conventions, where his musical talents tended so much to give additional interest to those gatherings. His wife accompanied him in all his wanderings, which not only added greatly to his comfort, but also made the gatherings more potent for good. When not holding conventions, they would sojourn in Chicago, and labour on the Sabbath in Sun- day Schools, and when he became acquainted with Mr. Moody, he assisted him with his evangelistic services. For a considerable time, also, he was the leader of the choir in the first Congregational Church in that city, where his labours were duly appreciated by the esteemed Pastor and the congregation. Here he was abundantly useful, and became still betterpreparedforthe evangelistic labours on which he was soon to enter with Mr. Moody, Major Whittle, and others. It was mainly through Mr. Moody that Mr. Pliss became a singing evangelist, and it 9!-»em THE HAPPY PILGRIM. %t IS worthy of remark, that when Mrs. Bliss became acquainted with Mr. Moody's wishes, she said, " I am willing that Mr. Bliss should do anything that we can be sure is the Lord's will, and I can trust the Lord to provide for , us ; but I don't want him to take such a step simply on Mr. Moody's will." There was much time spent in prayer before he would embark in such an enterprise, and not until he felt satisfied that it was the will of God, could he be prevailed upon to give his con- sent. At length the final step was taken, and Major Whittle, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Bliss, went forth on evangelist * '^. tours, visiting various towns and cities in IllinoiSjWisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, Tennes- see, Missouri, Alabama, and Georgia. In all these States, where they sojourned for a few days,they were made abundantly useful among all classes. His songs, " Almost Persuaded,'* and " Saved by the Blood of the Crucified One," were the means of bringing many to accept salvation, and live devoted to God. THE HAPPY PILGRIM, \ " Hold the Fort " was composed and sung during his evangelistic tours, and the fame which it has attained, inasmuch as it and several others of his songs are being sung in China, Japan, India and Africa, and, indeed, in every part of the world, is sufficient proof of their popularity. Probably never, in the history of mankind, has the power of music been so much appreciated as in these latter days ; it has been so nobly utilized by Messrs. Bhss, Sankey, Sherwin, Phillips, and others. Our limited space forbids us to dwell at greater length on this part of our subject. By means of the extensive publications with which the names of Messrs. Bliss and Sankey are associated, their songs are well known, for both in Britain and America numerous editions of their song-books have been sold ; and now you cannot go into a house which contains a musical instrument, but there will be found one or more of their musical books, while in all the churches, which for genera- tions past have sung the good old Psalms of David, you may hear some of those soul-in- THE HAPPY PILGRIM, as spiring songs, which have thrilled the hearts of thousands as they were first sung by their respective authors. It was a great sacrifice to Mr. Bliss to be thus engaged in evangelistic labours, as he could only be at his home with his family for a few days at rare intervals, and when those periods of sojourn at home with his children came round, he was as full of joy as any of his little folks. He always took care to remember the loved ones at home, and on his return he would bring with him some mementoes as proofs of his affection for them. He was never melancholy. He dwelt in the region of joy, and scattered seeds of kindness in every place where he might take up his abode for " shorter or a longer period. This was one grand secret of his success. He was never gloomy, never misanthropic, but always cheerful. His bright, happy face was enough to make gloom disappear, and when he would speak a few words in connection with any song which he was about to sing, his words \ THE HAPPY PILGRIM, would send such a thrill of delight through the audience, that would make every one feel delighted. Sometimes he would say a few words about the love of Jesus, and en- treat his hearers there and then to embrace the Saviour, until all would be deeply af- fected, and then he would touch t!^e instru- ment, and send forth such a volume of sound as would make every one feel in sympathy with him. No one can conceive the power which he thus wielded over an audience, unless they had been present and witnessed it for themselves. We confess that we never witnessed anything equal to the magnetism which he possessed. Never, while memory retains its seat, can we for- get the thrilling effect produced by him and Mrs. Bliss singing, ** Waiting and Watching for Me." It was soul-inspiring. And the delightful lausic which they sung as well as the manner in which they performed this important part of Christian worship, contri- buted much towards the success of the meetings which they attended in the various THE HAPPY PILGRIM. 25 States of the Union. Sometimes h*^ would sing at the bedside of the afflicted, and not a few who v/ere prevented taking part in the public services, were cheered by hear- ing a few of his songs as they lay on their beds of pain. During one of his visits to Jackson, where the Michigan State prison is located, he spent some hours, on two dif- ferent Sabbaths, in singing and talking to the eight hundred inmates of that lonely place. The scene, as described by an eye-witness was an affecting one, for not only were the songs which he selected well adapted for the occasion, but the few sentences which he spoke seemed to be made up of the most choice words ; and as he spoke, at least two-thirds of the men were broken down by the reality of the things of God. Wherever Mr. Bliss was he seemed to have an idea that he must be about his Master's business, and that he must either be sing- ing or speaking for Jesus. Every service seemed to be better than the preceding. To those who were more closely identified c 7F1 26 T//E HAPPY PILGRIM. with him, it now seemed as though he had some premonitions of his departing end ; as there was an increasing solemnity in his manner and the songs which he preferred, as " Waiting and Watching," " I know not the hour that my Lord may come," and " Eter- nity," — all seemed to indicate that he was ripening for his eternal home. Dear man, his conversation was in heaven. He was a real Beulah Christian. We will not occuny the reader's attention with details respectmg the disaster by which this blessed man was ushered into eternity. This scene is too harrowing, and was done sufficiently at the time of the occurrence. Our object is to make our readers resolve that they will emulate the example of the noble man who is the theme of our present paper ; and, therefore, while the catastrophe might be considered a fruitful theme of contemplation under other circumstances, we shall pass it by with the single remark, that while there may be something about it which is dark and mysterious to us, we know THE HAPPY PILGRIM. 27 that God makes no mistakes. He is too wise to err, and what we know not now we shall know hereiafter. Philip Paul Bliss lived in constant readi- ness for death. He set the Lord before him. He daily acted so that he might be ready whenever his Lord should come. This was why his songs and conversation were so much about heaven. He looked forward to that as his final home, and all that he did upon earth was a preparation for that eternal dwelling-place. Not that he was anxious to depart thither ; he was content to remain here if he could prevail with others to love Jesus. He did not belong to the class of persons who find nothing but trials and sorrows in this life ; while he knew that life was a warfare, he had the assurance that it was something more than this, and while he was misrepresented, and some- times had his motives impugned, he still went on his way rejoicing in the God of his salvation, because he knew that in all that he did, he strictly laboured to keep a con- r 28 THE HAPPY PILGRIM, science void of offence. He was no expe- diency man, but a man of uprightness, who always acted according to the golden rule laid down by Jesus Christ. When he became a singing evangelist, his profession was yielding him a handsome revenue, sometimes more than an hundred dollars per week, and yet he relinquished these emoluments, and embarked on a career in which there was no certainty as to what should be the amount of his income. Mr. Moody said that the royalty on the " Gos- pel Hymns '* amounted to $60,000, and he pressed upon Mr. Bliss that he should take $5,000 of this amount and provide himself with a home ; but he promptly declined the offer, as they had previously agreed that the profits of that book should be expended in benevolence, and he was sure if his Mas- ter could go without a home, he could, un- til some other way should open for him to secure it. On another occasion, he had pre- pared a book of music for publication, on which a publisher said he was sure that the THE HAPPY PILGRIM. 29 book would have netted at least $10,000 or $12,000; but as Mr. Moody wished him to prepare, jointly with Mr. Sankey, a volume specially for revival services, he gave up his own wishes, and at once complied with Mr. Moody's request, and transferred all^his songs and music to the new book. Thus it will be seen, that money-making was not the object of his life. Another feature in his character is worthy of special remembrance at the present day, when the managers of all benevolent soci- eties know not what plans to adopt, that they may have sufficient means to meet the press- ing calls for help that are constantly reach- ing them. He had a fund into which he al- ways put a proportion of his earnings. It is not known on what scale he made those de- posits, but doubtless not less than one-tenth of a)i his receipts were put into the Lord's treasury, and on no account would he at any time make any drafts thereon, except for purely benevolent purposes. His pastor in Chicago said he knew that, on some occasions, R w s 30 TJ/£ HAPPY PILGRIM. Mr. Bliss put as much as $1,000 in six months into the Lord's fund, and that many were the gifts with which he entrusted him to dis- tribute among the poor as he went abroad on pastoral duties. When any one expressed surprise at the munificence of his gifts, he would reply that God was very good to him, and that he never lacked. Is not such conduct worthy of emulation ? We believe that, if all Christians would act on this principle, there would be no lack of funds to carry on all the enterprises of the church. We never hear ministers and others having to beg and coax their people by all kinds of means for money but we feel ashamed. We remember how Christians in the olden times dedicated their property to the Lord. We read of Abraham, and Jacob and others, vowing that if the Lord prospered them in the way in which they were going, they would give one-tenth to Him. In the New Testament we are commanded to " lay by us in store as the Lord has prospered us." But how few do this ? Mr. Bliss and some other eminent Christians have acted accord- THE HAPPY PILGRIM, 31 ing to this noble rule, but we fear that the great majority of Christians have not yet duly considered the question, " How much owest thou unto my Lord ? " There are some whom we know, and we be- lieve if the truth was known respecting them, it would be seen that the amount spent by them on tobacco alone, far exceeds all their contributions for the Lord's cause. How such persons can reconcile their proceedings with the divine law we know not \ but when they are appealed to for any benevolent pur- pose, they will complain of their poverty, or say they have so many calls, and express their wonder how it is that there are so many demands for money. Proportionate giving would remedy many of the most distressing evils which now exist, and would leave ministers and others more at liberty to devote themselves to spiritual labours, which are now greatly hindered by reason of so much time and energy having to be consumed in devis- ing schemes to provide the ways and means for the purposes of the church. Oh ! for a race of such men as Philip Paul Bliss. CHAPTER II. THE DUTIFUL SON. it HONOUR thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee." This is the fifth commandment of the de- calogue, and is the first which contains a promise. Solomon, the wise king, has said, " Hear the instruction of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother, for they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck." The history of mankind abounds with instances which prove the truth of these passages of Scrip- ture. The success which has crowned many in the various walks of life can be attributed to their faithful obedience to parental coun- sel. The writer once visited a gentleman of considerable social distinction, whose name was revered in the locality in which Jill THE DUTIFUL SON, 33 ;» he resided, and on asking respecting his health, and that of his brother, who, Hke himself, abounded in good works, he said, they were both cast down, as they had recent- ly lost their head. The venerable father of these excellent men had died a few days be- fore, at the advanced age of ninety years. Both the gentlemen in question had been members of the British House of Commons, and one of them sustained that important position at the time of our visit; but so much were they under the influence of their father, that neither of them would consent to occupy the onerous position until he had given his consent for them to do so. Of course, such remarkable instances of filial obedience are not common, for, gene- rally, when persons leave their parental abode, they no longer consider themselves under obligation to follow the instruction of their father, as in days gone by ; but young men would do well to remember that their parents are necessarily persons of more experience than they can be, and 34 THE DUTIFUL SON. though aged persons may be less speculative and enterprising than those of fewer years, still, the caution of the former, blended with the bold, daring conduct of the latter, will always be considered by prudent men as being likely to ensure success. We have known some conie to ruin by not taking heed to parental counsel, and not a few, who are now outcasts from the abodes of civilization, can trace their downfall to the same cause. We want in this chapter to portray the career of a youth, with whom we were per- sonally acquainted, and of whose course in life we had an intimate knowledge for more than a quarter of a century. He was the child of poor parents, and, like the rest of his compeers, was sent at an early age to earn his livelihood by performing manual labour in a coal mine. He was one of several brothers who followed similar avocations. His father was also a coal miner, and the amount of wages which he and his sons were accus- tomed to earn in the course of a fortnight, THE DUTIFUL SON, 35 when their wages were paid, was regard- ed as amply sufficient for the mainten- ance of the family in comparative comfort. But at that time, as we fear is still the case, miners in general did not make much pro- vision for a " rainy day." For the most part, such persons live well while their money lasts, and when it is all gone they live on the credit which the storekeeper will grant. The consequence is, that many fami- lies are often in the most distressing circum- stances when there comes a depression in trade, or the scale of wages is reduced. At the time of which we now write there were but few schools. There was not then such a system of public school education in England as obtains in Canada. The work- ing classes had but few pleasures of an in- tellectual character. Their enjoyments were mostly sensual, hence drunkenness and brutal sports prevailed to a fearful extent. Those who received a mere elementary education in the first branches of learning were looked upon as being really learned. 36 THE DUTIFUL SON, James Jones, when a boy, learned to read and write a little, and as he grew to manhood, he became acquainted with the first rules of arithmetic. Like too many of his fellow- workmen, he acquired some habits which were very injurious ; but, happil) , in early manhood, he was led to see the folly of his conduct, and turned his feet into the way of the divine testimonies. The whole course of his life was now changed, and he became a true son of temperance, and would not associate with those who patronised the drinking customs which make such frightful havoc in society. When James Jones was yet a youth, his father became incapacitated for work, and was obliged to be depending upon his sons for a maintenance for himself and his partner in life. For more than twenty years, James was their principal support, as his other bro- thers had married, and, having their own families to '~TOvide for, they left the support of their a^ a parents to him ; and it is but just to say, that he provided for their neces- THE DUTIFUL SON. 37 sities to the best o^ his ability. As there was sometimes a scarcity of employment, in consequence of strikes and depression of trade, he could not always earn as much as he would otherwise have done. James was neces- sitated to live very economically, and as hi^ work was very hard — coal-digging — he needed good substantial food ; but this he could not always secure, though it was the first re- quisite. His clothing was always of the humblest kind, for he could not afford to follow the fashions. No gold ring was ever ' seen on his finger, nor did he wear a gold chain around his neck, nor wa^ he ever seen with an ebony cane in his hand. In appear- ance, he would be denominated " shabby," as he could not afford such superfine clothes as many of his fellow-workmen did, though we fear that in some instances the latter contracted debts without a probability of paying them. Such was not the case with James Jones. He would not run into debt, but obeyed the apostolic injunction, " Owe no man anything 38 THE DUTIFUL ^^M but love." We have often seen him when his coat was " seedy/' and his pants thread- bare, but he knew that if, for the sake of being arrayed in more costly apparel, he should contract debts, he might plunge him- self into inextricable difficulties. There are few things which a young man should abhor more than debt. To a conscientious person debt is always frightful, and, no doubt, debts which, in their early contraction, were regard- ed as small and trivial, have so accumu- lated until the young man has become horror- stricken, and, with the hope of extricating himself, he has committed a questionable act, which has only involved him more and more. Let all who may read these lines avoid debt, if they would escape an accusing conscience by day, and a tormenting fiend by night. James Jones was blamed by some for not acting as his brothers had done. It was thought that jointly they might have kept their aged parents, but he knew that such a plan would come to nought, and in the end his aged parents would be compelled to THE DUTIFUL SON. 39 spend the remainder of their days in the parish workhouse, where they would have to live in separate wards, and seldom be able to ex- change a word with each other, and the thought of this he could not for a moment endure. Thus he toiled and laboured, and made the latter end of his parents' lives as comfortable as possible, and would not even allow himself to think of becoming the hus- band of one wife until he was near forty years of age. Such instances of filial affection are not as numerous as they should be. There was once a distinguished statesman in Canada, of whom his enemies said many severe things, but even they admired his conduct in taking care of his aged parents, and providing for their necessities, and those of the junior members of the family. For years he per- formed the most herculean labours that he might retrieve the lost fortunes of the family, before he plighted his vows at Hymen's altar. Such conduct, we conceive, is even more honourable than all the deeds of statesman- ship with which his name is associated. ill 40 THE DUTIFUL SON. Near to the residence of J^-tnes Jones there resided another young man, but, alas ! he was a prodigal. His parents were reputed to be pious people. The father, however, was a man of very strong passions, and often ruled his house as with a rod of iron. He did not have much comfort with his family ; but Absalom, of whom we now write, was the son who caused him most shame. Ab- salom was self-willed and passionate, and was almost constantly quarrelling with other boys. When at the Sunday School, he was the tor- ment of all the teachers, and was generally the ringleader in mischief. As he grew up to man's estate, he became worse and worse, an \ spent much time in taverns and scenes of dissipation. His father was often almost bereft of reason on account of the wicked- ness of this son. Once he became involved in a quarrel, and was even charged with the crime of murder, but managed to abscond to America, where some of his brothers joined him, but still there was no reformation. He continued to be the same wicked youth that J THEiDUTIFUL SON. 41 he had been at home. News reached Eng- land that he and his brothers went the over- land route to California, and on their way quarrelled with a band of Indians, who were so much enraged with some of Absalom's misdeeds that they put him to death with their tomahawk and scalping knife. And this was the end of poor Absalom, who would not hearken to his father's counsel, and de- spised all the reproofs of his mother, i But we must leturn to James Jones. In early manhood he became a member of a church, and during the whole of his subsequent hfehe was a consistent Christian. He read the Bible daily, and was diligent in his attend- ance at all the means of grace, and was often heard to say that the comfort he received in the sanctuary, and by attendance to private duties enabled him to bear the trials of life with fortitude and resignation. He was often perplexed, and more than once was tempted to think that his troubles would overwhelm him, for not only had he the care of his parents, but two of his brothers, by their D m" 42 TJI£ DUTIFUL SON, ■:.- \' wicked course, occasioned him much annoy- ance. But, though faint, he did not become weary in well-doing, and strength was given him to bear his daily trials. He was, how- ever, a wonder to his associates, as they knew the difficulties which crowded his path- way; but he often said that he had bread to eat, of which others knew not. How pleasant to contemplate such a ca- reer ! How much more commendable and praiseworthy than the conduct of those who become possessed of the patrimony which has been won by hard-earned industry, and then treat their parents with neglect, or, may be, even deprive them of that to which they are entitled, and spend it in improvidence and prodigality! There are parents in Canada who have toiled hard for their children, and by the blessing of God on the work of their hands, they have acquired comfortable homes and beautiful farms, consisting of fine broad acres, but, when the sons come to years of maturity, instead of cultivating the soil, they must leave the farm, and enter upon what THE DUTIFUL SON, 43 they conceive to be a more respectable mode of life, and in not a few instances they have brought themselves to poverty, and their aged parents, instead of being comfortable in their declining years, have often been depending upon strangers, whereas, by industry and or- dinary skill in cultivating the land, all might have enjoyed comfortable homes, and the family estate could have been handed down to succeeding generations. God has ordained that man shall receive his livelihood by work, and an apostle has said, that he who will not work neither should he eat. Even the king is sustained by the labour of the field, and no doubt much of the suffering which comes in connection with "hard times," would be avoided if there were more agriculturists and fewer persons engaged in mercantile pursuits. And what is more pleasant than to see the aged patriarch of a family and his children and children's children around him, all living in close proximity, but in the greatest affec- tion for each other ? Such sights we some- times beholdj and never without pleasure. 44 THE DUTIFUL SON. ill When we last saw James Jones he had en- tered the marriage state. Providence had directed him to a suitable person, who, like himself, was somewhat advanced in life, but, as she had been for some years engaged in a small store, she had earned a considerable portion of the comforts of life, so that the youth who had taken care of his aged parents, and greatly comforted them in their declin- ing years, was in a position to enjoy domestic life, and spend the evening of his days with a greater degree of comfort than some antici- pated who had known him from his youth. But the Almighty always takes care of those who do what is well-pleasing in His sight, We regret to inform our readers that James Jones had one habit which we would strongly recommend them not to imitate — he used tobacco. He had acquired this dirty, filthy habit when a boy, and as he advanced to manhood and down to old age he felt himself enchained by the noxious weed. He often regretted his folly, and strongly advised young men never to become addicted to this loath- " ij-' > fc -■- .-< ij i-^, ■ THE DUTIFUL SON, 45 some practice. His parents were inveterate smokers. Morning, neon, and night, they might be seen using the pipe. It was said that they would even get out of bed at mid- night to smoke. Surely they were slaves, but is it not an alarming fact that the num- ber of such slaves is increasing at a rapid rate ? The late Bishop Janes said, ** that the use of tobacco is producing more injury to the Methodist Episcopal Church in America than the use of rum." We were often surprised at James* parents, and wondered why they should use so much tobacco, when they knew the expense in which they thus involved their son, on whom they were depending for their daily bread. It is truly astonishing how many people, both old and young, some of whom are remarkable for intelligence, and possess many admirable traits of character, and yet they have acquired the filthy habit of smoking or chewing to- bacco. Indeed, the habit has become so common that the use seems to be the rule and abstinence the exception, and yet few II 46 THE DUTIFUL SON, I \\ \ ' I u will argue that the practice is beneficial. Medical men assure us that the use of tobacco in any form is simply injurious, and yet many seem to regard it as an absolute necessity, without which they would hardly know how to exist. To our young readers we would say, never learn tc use tobacco, and if you have already become enslaved, resolve that you will hence- forth be free from such slavery. Continue the practice, and, maybe, before you are aware, you may learn other practices which are usually associated with the one in ques- tion. Give it up at once and for ever, for though we do not consider the use of tobacco to be as injurious as drinking liquor, we do kpow that smoking often leads to drinking, as a proof of which look around you, and you will see many persons who, though they use tobacco, yet do not drink, but you will rarely find one who drinks but also uses tobacco in some form. A clergyman once advised a mother that he had seen her son smoking, but she was not at all disconcerted at hearing such an accusation. Two years THE DUTIFUL SON, A7 rolled away, and that same mother besought this clergyman to do something for her be- sotted son, but it was too late, for the son died in a few years a drunkard and a suicide. Perhaps the following incident may be new to some of our readers. Tobacco was first brought into repute in England by Sir Walter Raleigh. By the caution he took in smoking it privately, it is presumed that he did not intend that his example should be copied. But sitting one day in deep meditation, with a pipe in his mouth, he inadvertently called to his servant to bring him a tankard of small beer. The fellow, coming into the room, threw all the liquor into his master's face, and, running down stairs, bawled out, " Fire, help I Sir Walter has studied until his head is on fire, and the smoke bursts out at his mouth and nose." Think of the following* lines : ** Tobacco is an Indian weed, And from the devL does proceed, It picks your pocket, Burns your clothes. And makes a chimney of your nose. ** CHAPTER III. " THE OLD HORSE." THE members of the working-classes of England are often known among their fellow-workrnen by strange cognomens, which are more frequently used than their respective proper names. We have known instances when some were in doubt as to the real names of their shop-mates. Such names are usually given in consequence o^ some peculiarity in the person so designated. In one of the northern counties of the old land, there lived a man who was in the mid- dle age of life, and was remarkable for his ►strength. He was a real Samson. Few of his workfellows could perform such an amount of labour as he could in the same space o^ 1 ime : owing to this peculiarity; he was com- monly known by the name, which stands at the head of this chapter — "The old Horse." ** THE OLD HORSE, 49 He was naturally a kind, obliging man, al- ways ready to render assistance to a neigh- bour or a fellow-workman, but, unfortunately, like too many of his confreres, he was a drunkard. Our friend, of whom we now write, usually earned good wages. He had several sons, who, like himself, worked in the coal-mines, and were also in the receipt of good remune- ration for their toil. When we first knew him, not less than four members of his family, with himself, were bread-winners, so that we should have supposed there could have been no dif- ficulty in securing the comforts and even the luxuries of life for his household. But, alas ! there was little comfort in the home of Wil- liam Ward. Did the reader ever know a drunkard's home that was the abode of com- fort? The workmen in the locality where this man resided were regularly paid once in two weeks, on the Friday, when he usually would commence his spree, and seldom leave off un- til Monday, by which time the fortnight's ., ;* 5© ** THE OLD horse:' : earnings, except the little his wife had se- cured, would be spent in drink. Often he and his boon companions would quarrel, as to which of them could perform the most la- bour, the end of which would generally be, that several of them would be taken into custody, and in due time appear before a magistrate, who would inflict a fine, or com- mit them to jail for thirty days, for breaking the peace, or creating a disturbance at the house of the " Black Boy/' or " Bonny Pit Laddie/* Pity that the fine could not have been inflicted upon the tavern-keeper who sold the poor men the liquor which made them break the peace. When sober, the man of whom we write was a quif * loifensive person. As may readily be suppos. ., the wife of our poor friend was an object of pity. A drunk- ard's wife ! the very mention of the name calls up a thousand unpleasant associations. How many poor creatures, who are allied to drunken husbands, are dragging out a miser- able existence, which will soon teminatein pre- *'THE OLD horse:' 51 mature death ! Their homes would be happy but for drink, and so long as this demon rages, they will resemble pandemonium. We have often seen the wife of William Ward, dressed in the most humble garb, weeping and sobbing as though her heart would break. She has been heard to say that she dreaded the arrival of the " pay-night," as she would be sure to have to visit the tavern, with a view to persuade her husband to come home : or perhaps, the day following, she would have to appear before a magistrate, and use means to get him discharged from custody; or, if she prevailed with him to return home, it would be more than p/obable that he would treat her in the most brutal manner. Poor woman ! by reason of little food, scanty clothing, and often cruel usage, her life wj^s one of great misery. The various temperance organizations often sent their agents into the colliery vil- lages of Northumberland and Durham. James Teare, Robert Grey Mason, Edward Grubb, Joseph Bormond and many others, whose Sa '* THE OLD horse:' names deserve honourable mention, were the means of doing much good in those places. Some time in the year 1840 or '41, ther^ was a lecturer, who was usually known by the name of ** the Cumberland Weaver." He was a man of good ability, and produced much excitement wherever he went. Being possessed of a ready utterance, and having a good knowledge of human nature, he seemed to know exactly what kind of an ad- dress would be most suitable for the audi- ence which was drawn together. As he had been a working-man all his life, he had much sympathy with the working classes, and was just the man to be popular with them ; con- sequently wherever he went, crowds would be sure to flock to hear him, even in their working clothes, and their faces well be- grimmed, so that it could be easily seen what occupation they followed. One evening the " Cumberland Weaver *' held a temperance meeting in the village of Coalmoor, and, as was usual in those days, great efforts were made to secure signatures ** THE OLD horse:' 53 to the pledge. The meeting had been one of great enthusiasm : the heart-stirring appeals of the lecturer had carried conviction to the hearts of his hearers. William Ward again and again responded, " That's true." As he was leaving the house, the lecturer called out, '* White-jacket, come and sign." The hero of our story was clothed with a white flannel jacket. On being asked to '* come and sign,*' he said to himself, " It will be no use for me to sign, for Friday will soon be here, and of course I shall then be drunk, but I will sign to please the man." He did sign. The news of what he had done soon spread through the neighbourhood, and numerous opinions were expressed lespecting the mar- vellous deed. The " pay-day " came. Instead of going to the tavern, as in times past, William Ward deputed a friend to bring his wages home, and thus he kept out of the way of tempta- tion, by remaining with his family around his " ain fireside." His wife could hardly tell what was the matter, for her husband had 54 " THE OLD HORSEy not spent the " pay-night " at home in a state of sobriety for many years. Sabbath came, and for the first time for a long period he ac- companied her to the house of God. Weeks rolled away, and still he kept his pledge. All his fellow-workmen were filled with sur- prise. Some congratulated him, but others, to their shame it must be stated, tried to tempt him to go again with them into the ways of folly. The change in his appear- ance, and in that of his family, was greatly for the better, which all were ready to testify. The locality in which William Ward re- sided was visited with a revival of religion, and among others, he was made a subject of saving grace. He became a new creature, and, we never heard of any person who doubted the reality of the change which he had experienced. As he had been valiant in the service of Satan, he was now equally zealous in the service of God. He was no fine-weather Christian, but was an earnest follower of the Lord Jesus. We have heard him relate his experience at love-feasts, when " THE OLD horse:' 55 his plain, artless tale, delivered with character- istic energy, would produce the most thril- ling sensation, and cause many cheeks to be bedewed with tears. ^ The writer, when appointed to preach at the Village of Coalmoor, would occasionally dine at the house of William Ward, when he could not but see the change which had taken place in the family. His wife and children had not the forlorn and wretched appearance for which they were once char- acterized. They were now cheerful and happy. The house was decently furnished, and the meals of which we partook, though plain and wholesome, were abundant and excellent. We rejoiced with them in the de- lightful change which they had experienced. We dare say that William Ward had many temptations to return to his former course of life, but, whenever he was solicited to take a glass with a friend, he would always say, "No, I have done with it, and you had better let it alone too." This was his usual reply. He would not stand to argue, nor would he go n (I l|« : ilM 56 ♦*r^^ OLD horse:' in the way of evil, for he was resolved to avoid being taken captive by the snare of the devil, from which he had been so happily rescued. ^ A somewhat amusing but striking incident occurred in the life of our heroic friend, with which we think our readers will be pleased. The Primitive Methodists were holding a Camp Meeting, or, as we would say in Am- erica, a Field Meeting, that is, religious ser- vices held in a field, during the whole of one Sabbath, and, as their custom was, they were marching through the streets singing some lively airs. We have seen a procession con- sisting of several hundreds, singing through the streets of a city or town, and stopping occasionally for prayer or exhortation, and the effect of such a mode of procedure was really grand, and on such occasions many have been induced to hear the message of salvation, who would have remained at home, or spent the hours of the I^ord's Day in a manner very contrary to the requirements of the Fourth Commandment. On the occasion '* THE OLD RORSE:' 57 referred to, the singing, as usual, excited con- siderable attention, and caused many citizens to stand in their doorways, or look out of the windows of their houses, to see what was the occasion of the delightful strains of vocal music which they now heard. Amon? others who were thus looking on, was the son of a well-known tavern-keeper, and, on seeing William Ward among the choristers, he said to a companion by his side : " See, see, they have got the ' Old Horse ' among them." Our friend heard the remark, and, looking to- wards the young man, he said, " Yes, my lad^ but the ' Old Horse * is not yoked to thy father's cellar to-day/* He was now bearing the yoke of Christ, which he felt to be easy compared with the burden which he had for- merly carried. In concluding this narrative, we wish to say a word to the wives of drunkards, should any of them read these pages. The wife of him of whom we have now written was a pray- ing woman. For some time she was one of our classmates. Of course, she could not be E 58 '* THE OLD horse:' . I very regular in her attendance at the means of grace ; but, whenever circumstances would permit, she was there ; and often prayed for her dear husband. We have heard her say that she always endeavoured to treat him kindly, being resolved, if possible, to win him from his drinking course, by doing all in her power to make his home happy. Who dare say that her prayers, together with her ex- emplary life, did not exercise great influence upon him ? To such as are situated as she was we say. Go and do likewise. There are to be found in every community too many who try to allure others to drink. Need we remind such persons that the following words taken from the Bible are applicable to them? "Woe unto him that giveth his neigh- bour drink, that puttest thy bottle to him, and makest him drunken also." Those who have never been drunkards themselves do not know how difficult it is to destroy the appetite for liquor, and when once a poor inebriate has somewhat recovered from his fallen condition, those who would again entice him to evil " THE OLD horse:' 59 are guilty of a course of procedure that is reprehensible in the extreme. You may re- kindle a fire in that poor man which will never be extinguished. How objectionable is the practice of pay- ing wages at taverns ! We rejoice that the practice does not obtain so extensively in Canada as it does in England. Whatever may be said respecting the wants of the public, there are far more taverns than the wants require. Taverns in general are town traps and city snares, where thousands are annually slain. Every means should be adopted to prevent men going thither. Pub- lic gatherings too frequently take place at hotels, and social parties are often held in similar places, while saloons are fitted up in a manner that is almost sure to entrap our young men into the very vestibules of hell. Ye who are employers, exert all your powers to keep your employees away from those places which lead down to the pit. Let all reformed drunkards act the part of William Ward, who, after ''signmg the ii! 60 ** THE OLD horse:' pledge," went to the House of God and be- gan to pray, and thus, by the grace of God, he became a new man, and henceforth led an exemplary life. Many whom we have known to " sign the pledge " have again been taken captive, but, after more than a quarter of a century's experience, we do not recollect one who ever went back after hav- ing become a praying man. To leave off drink is good, but the surest way to keep from drinking is to pray for Divine assistance. Trust in God and do the righto A good man said to the writer, "My appetite for drink was vehement, but I conquered it by going to my closet, and, with the Bible open before me, I promised God, upon my bended knees, never to touch drink again. I prayed for Divin assistance, and now," said he, *^ I have been kept from it for nine years." God helps those who help themselves. CHAPTER IV. SPORTSMAN S LODGE. u THIS ancient edifice is situated **o'er the hills and among the heather/' and stands in a somewhat secluded spot, sur- rounded by lofty mountains and extensive moorland, on which hundreds of sheep may be seen grazing. As the traveller wends his weary way on foot, he will occasionally meet with ** the shepherd and his dog," whose busi- ness it is to see that the sheep are all safe. As soon as the shepherd's voice is heard, you could almost imagine yourself on the eastern plains, where '^ the shepherd calleth his sheep by name." The sheep of which we speak, certainly know their shepherd's voice, and can discern it from that of a stranger. "Sportsman's Lodge," is so called from the fact that it was for many years the place of sojourn for a number of gentlemen who 62 SPORTSMAN'S LODGE. il went thither for grouse shooting. A party of sometimes twelve, or may be twenty, would go to this place in " the season/' with provi- sions to serve for ten days or a fortnight. Of course, a large quantity of ale, porter and spirituous liquors, would be provided, and each day, after a few hours had been spent in killing birds, the party would return to the Lodge and spend the remaining hours of the day in carousing and scenes of conviviality. For some generations, a family, bearing a somewhat euphonious name, were the pro- prietors of the Lodge, and some of them would be sure to be there during the shoot- ing season. The last descendant of this ancient stock sat for many years as M.P. for a Yorkshire constituency. He bore the re- putation of being kind to the poor. In the winter season he would distribute hundreds of gallons of soup among the needy, and pro- vide many of them with blankets and other articles of comfort, for which they often used to praise his memory. Unhappily, while the gentleman spoken of SPORTSMAN'S LODGE. 63 was thus kind to the poor, he was much given to licentious practices. He was a real fast man. He lived in pleasure, and being pos- sessed of ample means, he had every oppor- tunity to pursue such a course as ministered most to his sensual gratification. When it was the writer's lot to itinerate in the locality of this gentleman's residence, rumours were in circulation respecting his practices which were of the most revolting character. His fast mode of life brought upon him a state of mental deformity, which compelled his friends to seek him a home in an Asylum, where he ended his career. And thus fell one whose voice had been heard in the Legislative Halls of his native land, and who might have been a benefactor to his species had he lived " soberly, righteously, and godly in th- pre- sent world," instead of which he was a curse to the race, and now fills a dishonoured grave. Another of the fraternity who frequented " the Lodge," in the hey-day of life was a gen- tleman belonging to the army. He had been 64 SPORTSMAN'S LODGE. Ill il|i '1 i I III 1 il !l" ^1 in several engagements, and had won various laurels. At the time we knew him, he was about sixty years of age, and had all the marks of a good soldier. We dare say, his courage was undaunted, and, by his bravery, he had doubtless served his country well ; but however much he could control an army of men, as they were advancing to the attack upon the enemy, he was not of those who could " rule his own spirit." Like too many others in affluent circumstances, he seemed to regard those beneath him in station as only fit to minister to the gratification of his lusts. There were those who lived in the vicinity of his residence who were in the most humiliating circumstances, of whose condition we will not further speak. An awful death occurred in the town one day, which was detailed to us by an eyewit- ness. A poor unfortunate female, who had lived for many years on the reward of her shame, was brought into dying circumstances. Some said she was delirious, but she de- clared she was sane, and knew what she was SPORTSMAN'S LODGE. ^^-^ Upwards of a quarter of dfcentury has rolled away since the writer was accustomed to visit Sportsman's Lodge once every month. It was then no longer the abode of Sports- men seeking for pleasure, but had become the residence of an aged couple, who, with all their peculiarities and eccentricities, were much given to hospitality, and were always glad to welcome the weary itinerant to the best entertainment which their house could afford. Poor old Deborah was a member of the church, but her lord remained among the outer court worshippers. She was usually 68 SPORTSMAN'S LODGE, II 4 ''A very loquacious, and would often entertain her guests with reminiscences of her past history. When the preacher tarried for the night, she was sure to recapitulate to him all that had transpired since his last "round." Poor old lady, she had had many trials. Her partner in life had not always been abundant in kindness. His waywardness had often been to her a source of great grief. Many acts which she detailed excited our wonder, and often led the preacher to exclaim, *'Lord, what is mai#" Sportman*s Lodge was now a place of preaching. Once in every two weeks one of the sons of John Wesley might be seen in a humble pulpit, proclaiming salvation in a crowded room, which in times past had been the scene of midnight revelries. And how the inhabitants of the region " round about " used to crowd into that room, which was often a Bethel ! Some of them would walk/ot^r or ^ve miles in a dark, night in order that they might hear the Gospel. We often admired their zeal, and again and again thought how lil SPORTSMAN'S LODGE. 69 , their conduct was a standing reproof to those who are much more highly favoured. . It was delightful to see poor old Deborah on the night of preaching. She would not rest if she thought a single person in the con- gregation was the least uncomfortable ; but would go from one part of the room to ant other, making seats for those who had jus- arrived. She was so perfectly disinterested ' that she lost sight of all comfort for herself, and could only be happy when she thought everybody around her was happy too. And if our readers could have seen this poor old mother in Israel, when the service was over, how she would run from one to an- other, shaking hands and bidding "good night" to those whom she could not per- suade to tarry for supper. A few generally did so. And on those occasions the table literally groaned with the substantial and delicacies of life. No matter how many times you would fill your plate, she would urge you again and again to ** help your^ sens y^ and then say she was afraid ** there s noiit ye can eaty 70 SPORTSMAN'S LODGE, hi >■ " Sportsman's Lodge," we can assure our readers, was a favourite spot in those days when it was our lot to ramble thither. Usually, in the summer season, there would be a " Day's Meeting," called there a " Camp Meeting," held in the grounds adjoining the Lodge, and, when tae weather was fine, the concourse of people was immense. The services would consist of preachings and prayer meetings at intervals during the day, and close with a Lovefeast in the evening. On some occasions great good was done, and one person, who for several years was engaged in the ministry in Canada, assured the writer, that he never felt so much like the happiness of heaven as he did at one of those festive days at the Lodge. The preparation which poor old Deborah used to make for those grand occasions, was something out of the ordinary way. Baking bread, roasting meat, &c., in such quantities as though she expected nothing less than a crowd, and she was seldom disappointed, for she had sometimes given dinner to fifty per- SPORTSMAN'S LODGE. 71 sons, while more than a hundred would be her guests for tea. The eating and drinking on those occasions was enough to cause one to think, that many had a feast for their bodies, whatever they might obtain for their souls. Poor old Deborah and her husband have long ere this passed away. We hope they died well. They often refreshed the saints, and the liberal manner in which they pro- vided for the entertainment of their guests was always to us a subject of wonder, seeing that they were so exceedingly penurious in respect to contributing money for any benev- olent object. They had been brought up with little or no education. Neither of them could sign their name, but they had been in- dustrious, and were very saving of their money. Perhaps -ney were covetous through ignorance. However, they have now gone to where there is righteous judgment, and let the reader strive to imitate their excellencies and shun their defects. \4l ji. CHAPTER V. THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. EARLY in the nineteenth century there lived in an English village a family consisting oifive sons and three daughters. As a family, they were much attached to each other, and were seldom separated for any con- siderable time. When death for the first time entered the household, and removed one of the boys, there was great lamentation, as he was a great favourite with all the members of the family circle, and was often regarded as a child of more than ordinary interest, as he gave evidence of possessing intellectual capa- bilities of a very high order. The father of this family was a man of supe- rior moral worth, and was very desirous that his sons, especially, should receive a good educa- tion. In these laudable efforts he was ably supported by the counsels of his wife. The THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. 73 masses in England did not then have the educational advantages which they now enjoy. Schools and colleges could only be enjoyed by a few. The scale of remuneration for labour was generally small, while the habits of the people were such that but few were able to save much from their earnings. It must, however, be admitted that multitudes expend- ed large sums for intoxicating liquors and tobacco, which might have kept their families in comfort, and given their children a good education. The children of the family to which the hero of our story belonged were not only sent to school, but kept there a much longer period than great numbers with whom they were as- sociated. This was often a subject of remark in the place of their residence. As the boys grew into their teens, it became a somewhat frequent question, " What shall they be ? " The father held a situation in a mme, which rendered it necessary that he should always examine the workings thoroughly before the workmen commenced their daily H THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. \ ■ ^' toil. He took the two eldest boys with him into the mine, and one morning, when making his usual examinations, an explosion took place, by means of the candle coming in con- tact with the accumulation of carbonic acid gas. In this catastrophe three persons were severely burnt, one of whom was the second son of the family with whom we have now to do. These explosions, both on a small and large scale, are dreadfully common in the colliery districts of England, and every such occur- rence produces the greatest possible conster- nation in the country for miles around. The houses of the sufferers are filled with sympa- thizers, and every one seems to labour to outvie the other in pouring the balm of con- solation into the wounds of the poor sufferers. The occasion referred to was very similar to all others of a like nature. The house was full to overflowing with the people of the village, and there lay, in two separate rooms, the father and son, who were two of the suf- ferers on that occasion. Their faces and hands THE RUNAWAY TAILOR, 75 were dreadfully scorched, and the burning pain which they both endured was dreadful in the extreme. The shrieks of the poor boy were sometimes piercing, and often led him to exclaim, " I'll go no more down the pit." We are happy to say that, after a few weeks* suffering, the three victims were all restored to convalescence, but they never lost the marks of the fire, and for years afterwards their hands especially were very tender. They all, however, pursued their ordinary avoca- tions, as they had done previous to the acci" dent. The little fellow went again to the old place of danger, but in a few weeks hence he was freed from the dangerous position of those who go down alive into the pit. One day the parents of our hero were in- formed, that a certain knight of the thimble was in want of an apprentice, and their burnt- boy intimated his wish to be allowed to make application for the vacant place. Having obtained consent from his parents, the youth ascended the table cf the shop, and went on trial to learn the trade of a tailor. He was 76 THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. \\V i .1!: delighted with the change, and waxed elo- quent in expatiating on the pleasure which he felt in his new situation. And now, at his urgent request, he was bound an apprentice, according to the laws of England, t j serve Mr. Knight for a period of seven years. We have now to contemplate our youthful friend in a new capacity. He was no longer his own master. He was obliged to be punc- tual every morning in commencing his daily toil, and sometimes, even to a late hour of the night, it was ** stitch, stitch." The change was very great for the boy. It was hard to be shut up in a tailor's shop for at least twelve hours every day, instead of having the privi- lege of wandering hither and thither, very frequently as taste or companionship might lead. Happily for him, however, his parents only resided a mile away, and the walk, morn- ing and evening, was of great benefit to him. We may at this stage of our story remark that, after a few months had rolled away, the parents of the tailor's apprentice removed to a distant part of the country, which necessi- THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. 77 tated his boarding from home. At first, he resided in the house of his master, but this arrangement was soon discontinued. He then went from one house to another, and here, we think, was one great cause of that unsettled mode of life which he afterwards led, and which was attended with such disastrous consequences. Many young men have gone to ruin for want of home influence. It is truly a crisis in a young man's history when he leaves the paternal roof. How many have thus become outcasts in society, who might have lived to bless the world? Those who employ young men are not always sufficiently careful about their associates. Honour to the founders and supporters of our Young Men's Christian Associations, which often serve as substitutes for the homes which many of the young men in our large towns and cities have left behind them, as they have gone to those great centres of population to learn some useful trade, or join some of the professions. The youth whose career we are particu- b 78 . Tff£ RUN A VVA Y TAILOR. larly desirous to portray was naturally very self-willed, and exceedingly stubborn. His tongue would sometimes be used in a most provoking manner. He was the master of the house when his father was absent. The poor mother was extremely indulgent, hence he would soon, by coaxing or other means, obtain, if nothing more, at least her tacit consent to anything he might propose. To his eldest brother, who was endeavouring to be a Christian, he was a perfect tease. If he saw him engaged in devotional exercises he would mimic him, and in every way possible seek to annoy him, and use various strata- gems to throw him off his guard, and then, of course, having accomplished his cruel purpose, he would taunt him with being out of temper, which, of course, was unbecoming in a Christian. Many were the anxious hours which his conduct occasioned his father. After leaving the abode of his parents, it was not to be expected that others would submit to his dictation, as his brothers were often compelled to do. Little petty annoy- THE RUNA WA Y TAILOR. 79 ances would r')metimes occur in the work- shop, and the patience of the master was often severely tested on such occasions. The master would be desirous to settle all griev- ances that might occur ; but our stubborn youth would only study to perplex him more and more, as he sought to restore order out of confusion. How often young men think that, by being a little headstrong, they are dis- playing the noblest traits of independence. We are sorry to say that quarrels often took place between the master and his apprentices, which were the occasion of many journeys and much needless expense to the parer^ts of the youthful tailor. But the greatest calamity thai had ever befallen them was soon to be their portion. One day the aged father received a letter from his son's master, to say that Andrew had not been seen for some days, which had occasioned him no small amount of uneasi- ness. This was a thunderbolt to the old gentleman. Happily, the mother was from home at the time;, and the sad news was dis- 9a i THE RUNAWA V TAILOR. closed to her in the most guarded manner ; but, notwithstanding the caution exercised, the effect was of the saddest description, and for a time it was feared that she would become bereft of her reason. For days and nights she would wander from place to place, crying in the most piteous manner. Could the unhappy youth have seen all the suffering that he occasioned in the family circle, surely he would have been sorry for the mad act which he perpetrated. Many years have rolled away since this melancholy scene took place, but its remembrance is still vividly before us, and to our dying day we shall not for- get it. On receiving the painful intelligence, the father thought it would be best for his eldest son to go in quest of his erring brother. The facilities for travelling were not then what they are now, hence a few miles could not be so easily traversed. The eldest son, how- ever, started on his unpleasant journey, and walked some twenty miles and then tarried (or the night, * THE RUNA WA Y TAILOR. 8i Next day, news of the occasion of his un- expected visit was soon noised abroad, and many remarks and inquiries were made. One person felt sure that the wanderer had been seen very recently, another was equally cer- tain that he was yet in the neighbourhood, while all were hopeful that his absence would only be temporary. The eldest son continued to prosecute his journey, and in due time was at the resi- dence of the master, but no tidings had been heard of the wandering boy. His boarding place was next visited, where, for the first time, fears were expressed that the stray youth had gone to sea, as one of his fellow-appren- tices said he had talked of doing. This was more fearful than the inquirer had anticipated, and now he hardly knew what to do ; but, accompanied by a friend, he went to the near- est seaport, several miles away. He had often been there before, but never on such an errand as that on which he had now been sent. Again and again, he and the other menibers of the family had gone thither tp I ii i lii^ f I i :V. 4!i^ If! 82 THE RUN A WA Y TAILOR. enjoy the pleasures of sea-bathing, when they were usually full of enjoyment ; but, alas ! now how changed ! There did not seem to be any pleasure for him in any object, no matter how much it might have delighted him before. No tidings could be heard of his brother in this town, which, though containing a fine harbour, in which were to be seen some noble vessels, yet their number was sma.., and the common opinion seemed to be, that the run- away tailor had not selected that port as the place of his embarkation. Another seaport was therefore visited, and, after going from one ship-broker to another, the dii^overy was at length made that a youth of the description given had been there, and had, it was believed, sailed two days before. Further inquiries were made, and this statement proved to be correct; the run- ?way had entered himself to be a sailor on a vessel which had left the port of Tyre bound for the Cape of Good Hope. Further §ea,rch was now useless, and, therefore, lodg- THE RUNAWAY TAILOR, 83 ings for the night were sought, and a speedy return home contemplated. On the journey home, the son called upon the master of his brother while change of horses was made for the stage-coach. That very day, the master received a letter from his absconding apprentice, informing him that " he had taken ship bound for Russia ;*' but when the master was informed that the Cape of Good Hope was the place whither the new sailor was bound, he was filled with rage. But the coachman had sounded the horn, consequendy the traveller resumed his journey home, where he arrived at the house of mourning somewhere about the hour of midnight. The house that night was a Bochim. Some relatives had come to try to comfort the sor- rowing mother, who had scarcely allowed her first-born to return home until she in- quired where " her dear Andrew had gone." On being told that the Cape of Good Hope was the place, and tnat it was not expected that the vessel would return to England THE RUNAWAY TAILOR, again in less than two years, it seemed as though the fountain of her tears had broken loose afresh, and that there would be no bounds for her grief. A few days afterwards, however, a letter was received from the "run- away," |Which he had written and given to the pilot, in which he begged his parents not to sorrow on his behalf, as he was already suffering from a lacerated conscience, and would bear everything that might befall him, as the reward of his misdeeds. Two years rolled away, and what years of suffering they were. Every storm that blew reminded the mother that her son was per- haps in a more pitiless storm than that which she now beheld. Every account published in the newspapers respecting any shipwreck excited her imagination, until she was sure she beheld her darling boy struggling among the drifting timbers of the wrecked vessel? or else he was cast away upon some forlorn rock, where he would be sure to be dashed to pieces. As the parents of the newly-made sailor THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. 85 knew that there were heavy bonds to be met on his return home, and that, in all probabil- ity, some heavy expenses would be incurred by again fitting him for sea, should he be de- termined still to seek his fortune on the mighty waters, they made every possible preparation for the anticipated time of trial. Two years soon rolled away, and one day tidings reached the parents of our hero that the vessel was expected to arrive in London at a given date. The mother was now all excitement. Go to London she would, no matter what it might cost. She could not wait until she was sure that the vessel had arrived, but must hasten thither, and be ready to welcome her boy as soon as the ship cast anchor. It was deemed highly improper for the mother to take such a journey alone. She had never been in London ; indeed, she had never travelled to any great extent without being accompanied by some of the members of her family. Mother had a clever sister, who had been a somewhat extensive traveller) I ) , M. 11 u THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. and, moreover, was always at home go where- ever she might. This smart aunt as we must call her, agreed to go to London with her dear sister. The journey was undertaken, but, alas I the two sisters had to remain in London^//r long weeks before the vessel arrived. This was a great trial and a fearful bill of expense. One day, as they were sitting in the hotel, they were informed that the vessel had cast an- chor in the East India Docks. A cab was soon called, and the cabman was told to drive like Jehu to the gates of the East In- dia Docks. They were soon there, but here they were prevented entering, as they had got no ticket of admittance. But while pondering as to what was best to be done, there came a seafaring gentleman, accompanied by two boys, who were carrying his trunk, by whom their attention was soon attracted, when, lo ! one of the boys was the very per- son of whom they were in search. The mother soon fell upon his neck, and cried, ** O, my child, my child 1" A crowd speedily tH& RVNA WA y TAILOR. i7 assembled, and at length the gentleman, who was no other than the captain of the vessel, interposed, for he knew the whole history of what he now beheld, and spoke kindly to the ladies, and told them when to meet hira again, when further explanations should be made. A few days longer were all that were neces- sary to stay in the metropolis of England. The runaway tailor was bound to the cap- tain of the vessel for a term of years, the bills were discharged, and the ladies returned home, and twelve r jnths more rolled away before the vessel returned again to England. The master-tailor had been patiently wait- ing the return of the ladies from London, and when he *" and that his bound-apprentice was again sailing on the mighty deep, his wrath seemed to know no bounds. He had buoyed himself with the hope that the boy would be glad, after two years, to return to his shop, and was disposed to say nothing about his ab- sence, if only he would now settle down and stitch the garments which were to be made to I >i 88 tjIjE rui^away tailor. measure ; but, seeing that there was every probability that he would never have that privilege, he determined to seek compensa- tion according to law. The father was compelled to take another bootless journey to the master oi his rambling son, and as they did not come to terms, it was agreed that they should wait a little longer, thinking that, perhaps, after another voyage, the foolish youth would become tired of the sea, and henceforth would settle at home. A few more months rolled away, and news reach England that the vessel was wrecked, but all hands were saved. The hands re- turned to England, among whom was the tailor, who was really wrecked. His clothes were all gone, and there he stood in the town where he had first embarked three years before, but now what was he to do ? A friend advanced him money, and he made his way to his father\s house. Again the master was on the alert, and having heard something as to the where- abouts of his apprentice, he wanted to see the THE RUNAWAY TAILOR, S9 father and him together. " The salt/* as we shall now term him, was resolved that, come what might, he would never stitch on the shopboard of Mr. Knight again, and told his father so. The poor old man went to see the master, who, hearing how matters were, agreed to deliver up the indentures on con- dition that a certain sum should be paid. The terms were agreed to, and now the tailor-boy was free. For a few weeks he en- joyed the pleasures of home, but was resolved to be a sailor to the end of his days. After a little furlough, he was again sailing to foreign ports, where we will leave him for a while. The eldest son was very desirous to know from his father how much the sailor-boy had cost him during the three preceding years. But the father would never tell. It is certain, from little items of expense that were ascer- tained, that the entire cost during this period was not less than one thousand five hundred dollars. This was wholly lost, for, had the boy remained a little longer at the trade of tailor, he would have been less expensive G 90 THE RUNAWAY TAILOR, every year, and those frightful bills would have been sayed. But this was only the be- ginning of troubles. In all, our runaway tailor would be at sea for about twenty years, during which time he was wrecked again and again. He advanced from one position to another until he became master of a vessel. He was in the employ- ment of some good owners, but he was never successful for a long time together. Some- times he would lose his vessel, and for months he would be at home spending the savings of previous voyages. At length he got married, but he had no money, hence he borrowed from his father, expecting that he would be able to repay, but alas I he never did so. Like many sea-faring men, he had acquired some bad habits, especially those of drinking beer and smoking tobacco. We have met with some notorious consumers of the weed, but we are not aware that we ever met with one who could surpass him of whom we now write. He would smoke the live long day when not on duty. One day he acknow ,~ / THE RUNAWAY TAILOR. 91 »_ id 'g et d, th ivv ay w ledged to the writer that he had consumed no less than nine shillings sterling on Havan- as. The thing seemed incredible, and yet he assumed that it was even so. During the latter years of his life our hero often regretted the follies of his youth. When in company with boys, he would admonish them on the folly of mixing up with those who are prodigals and spend- thrifts, and to his youngest brother especially, who was rather inclined to be gay, he would beg of him to be considerate, and learn a lesson from his miserable life, as he always considered that the misfortunes which had befallen him were the results of his youthful follies. He considered that his want of sue. cess in business lay not in his lack of ability or skill, but solely because he had disobey- ed his parents, and had refused to take heed to the wise counsels that were given him in youtli. ' • The vessel of which he was the command- er left Liverpool, May i8th, bound to China. He arrived safe, and wrote letters to his wife ^. S^l^^-^ <^ V] /: O / >^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 «f KS 12.2 1.25 1.4 2.0 1.6 // ^/ A^^ .V^ -^-^ iV 'S^ '^ %^ 93 THE RUNAWAY TAILOR, and friends in England as to the time when he expected to return home, but, alas ! he never reached the cliffs of his native land. The vessel sailed from China, and that was all that ever could be heard. No one escaped to tell the sad tale. His remains are somewhere buried in the great deep, where they must remain until the greedy sea shall give up her dead. Thus another widow was cast upon the charity of the world. A large circle of friends were filled with lamentation. One whose early life had been the cause of much sorrow to his parents passed away, and his career has been portrayed to caution those who may read this story against being stub- born and self-willed. Learn to be calm. Suffer those to counsel you who are persons of experience. Never disobey your parents. To obey your parents is the first command- ment with promise. Trifle not with en- gagf^^oients. Covenants are not made to be violated. They are sacred trusts. Guard against sensual indulgences. Be not the THE RUNAWAY TAILOR, 93 slaves of appetite. Suffer not yourselves to be overcome with evil. Keep an embargo upon all your passions. Go not in the way of evil men. Keep yourselves pure. " Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.*' CHAPTER VI. bachelors' hall. THERE are few persons who see life in so many different phases as Methodist Ministers. They are sometimes surrounded by all the comforts and by ri^h viands that might satisfy an epicure, while at other times, they sit down to a scanty table which con- tains the coarsest fare. Occasionally the humble itinerant of the olden time especially, was entertained at the houses of the *ich, where a Brussels carpet would be spread un- der his feet, and servants would be in atten- dance to execute his bidding ; while, in other instances, his home would be in some hum- ble cot, where the pinching hand of poverty was often felt. Here he must take such things as are set before him, asking no ques- tion for conscience' sake ; and should he have to sleep in a garret where he can behold BACHELORS' HALL. 9$ daylight peeping through the thatch, or have other beds in close proximity to his own, he must not be offended, for even Christ had not where to lay his head. In the days of our boyhood, we heard of two itinerants, one of whom was somewhat remarkable for waggishness, and the other was equally remarkable for his love of good cheer. While one was labouring in the Town, the other had to peregrinate in the country. It so happened that on one occasion, when the waggish brother came in from the coun- try, he told his colleague, that when he went to Hopetown, he was to inquire for Mrs. Mary Kindheart, a Linen-draper, at whose hospitable abode he was to tnrry. " Aye, aye, that I will," said the brother, smacking his lips in the meantime, and ex- claiming, " that'll be a good shop." The wag, of course, took care to conduct himself throughout the whole affair with becoming gravity. In due time the epicurean brother arrived at the place and began to look for the sign- 96 BACHELORS' HALL. board of Mrs. Kindheart, but, alas ! after wandering up and down the street he could not find the desired haven. He therefore began to inquire, first of one and then an- other, for the whereabouts of the establish- ment of the Linen-draper, A female, to whom he directed his inquiries suspected who he was, and before she conducted him to the object of his inquiry, she took the liberty of asking him his name, on hearing which she said, "Oh ! oh ! you are one of ours, come along.'' This was more than the itinerant expected. He thought to himself, if his guide was what she said, " a sister," then alas ! for him. She informed him that it was old Molly Kindheart, that he was inquiring for, and so saying, led him to the ** Linen- draper's." He had to wend his way through one narrow street after another, until he was introduced to the domicile of " old Molly," whom he found in a most disorderly state. He thought she looked as though she had not been washed for a week. Her clothes were of the most miserable description, and t^ACHELORS' HALL. 9? she was occupied sorting rags upon the floor, a bundle of linen ones here and another bun- dle of woollen ones there \ in short, the house was one of the most uninviting into which he had been privileged to enter for a long time past. And this was the Linen-draper's shop 1 We will not attempt to describe the feelings of our poor brother, who at once saw how his credulity had been imposed upon ; but, we can assure our readers, he had a volley of hard words ready for his waggish brother, the next time they met. But to return. Bachelors' Hall was so called from the fact that three descendants of the apostles resided there. The house itself was a pretty comfort- able one, though there were some drawbacks to it. It was small, inclined to be damp at certain seasons, and, like some others, it was on the basement stoiy of the church — called chapel. The furniture, though not of the most elegant description, was, nevertheless, on a par with the house. But what of all this ; supposing the house had been of the most splendid architecture, and supposing, too, that 98 BACHELORS' HALL the furniture had been of the newest style, without a lady^ it was like a beautiful cage without a singing bird. It was a comfortless home. When the poor itinerants returned from their long rounds, cold and wet, as they often were, they must first kindle a fire be- fore they could have the least comfort, and should a kind friend ask them to dinner or tea, probably they would be mortified to find, that on their return the fire needed to be re- kindled. We had almost forgotten to state that Bachelors' Hall only contained one bed. Happily the three sons of Levi were but sel- dom all at home together. The sphere of their labours was very extensive, being some fifty-two miles in length and thirty-two in breadth, so that the reader may judge, there were many toilsome journeys as there was no railway nor stage coach within the bounds of the Circuit, and the Stewards were too poor to provide the preachers with either horses or travelling equipments. For three weeks and five dp»ys they never saw each BACHELORS' HALL, 9^ other, and even then only Hvo of them met, and that^ too, after an absence oisix weeks. There were some curious incidents tran- spired on ojie of the rounds. At a certain place the youngest of the three was inquiring his way to the house to which he had been directed to make his home while he remain- ed in that locality. He called to a man in a hay-field as to the road he must take, who replied thus : " Thou niun ga^ig up that luriy ower yon stee, thrd yon close^ by yon lair^ up yon hill, and then thou'lt bed!t housed This was a strange direction for a person who had never been twenty miles from home until a few weeks ago, when he commenced his itinerancy in that Circuit. It may be proper to explain that this strange direction simply meant, thou must go up that lane, go over yon stile, through yon field, by yon barn, all of which will lead to the house after which you are inquiring. At another place the same youthful preach- er met with a strange reception. He went to the house to which his letter of instruction sent loo BACHELORS' HALL. him, and inquired if a preacher was expected there that day ? A female was seated near a turf fire with a child upon her knee. She gave him noanswer, but. called out, "George," who replied, " what's tha want ? " " Come tha here." He came, a rough, austere-look- ing man, who gazed at the preacher rather significantly. The latter said, " Do you ex- pect a preacher to day, sir ? " ^^ Ah^ knaw nout, is thou hiniy "Yes sir, I'm sent." " Thou 7nun come in," and away he went to attend to his business. Rather a strange reception. It was sometimes exceedingly difficult in certain seasons, for the ministers to find their way from place to place. A dense fog would settle on the mountains, which would so be- wilder travellers that they would wander for hours in the greatest perplexity, and then perhaps arrive within a few yards of the place from which they started, though they ex- pected that instead they were ten or twelve miles away. In other instances the villages or hamlets would be placed in such obscure BACHELORS' HALL, lOI positions, that a stranger would not for a moment think, that human beings dwelt there. One place was described by a writer *' as being in the form of an ass's shoe, and an iron bar across the end," which was sur- rounded by stupendous mountains. The writer was one of the speakers at the first Missionary Meeting held in this obscure place, which was called " the great meeting." Several were present who were well stricken in years, and who had never been at a Mis- sionary Meeting until that night. On enter- ing the humble dwelling of the old lady with whom we lodged at this place, she gave us a hearty welcome, but placing her chair opposite to us on the other side of the open fire-place, she very significantly said, " Now^ htnney, thou niiin tell me all thou knaws^ We could detail several more incidents, illustrative of the character of the people with whom the three bachelor preachers had to do, but the above may serve to shew that many of them were of the original stamp. 102 BACHELORS' HALL, .'li! It must be observed, however, that while occasionally there would be some things which were repulsive, there were amongst the people some genuine Christians. Po- verty was characteristic of the najority of the people, and at that time eaucation was at a low ebb. Perhaps the reader would have no objec- tions to have a description of the inmates of the Hall. Well, here they are, one was a wi- dower. He was the Superintendent, or, as he was called by the people, ** the auld chapr He was an interesting little man, a fine friend, a pleasant companion and a good domestic ; consequently, when he was at " the hall," his younger brethren could rest in comfort about cooking, &c., as they knew their " father " would be sure to provide all things decently and in order. The second yj2i^ a charming com- panion, and could rhyme by the hour. The third had been but a short time away from his mother, by whom he had been much in- dulged. He was necessarily lacking in ex- perience. His brethren and the people gene- BACHELORS' HALL, 103 rally were kind to him, for which he feels thankful to this day. When the " senior black coat " was absent from the hall, there were some scenes en- acted, which would have been fine themes for a painter to have drawn on canvas. We may give one as a specimen of some others. It was dinner time. There was but one of the brethren at home, and he thought that for once he would have a comfortable meal. He had cooked sc ne potatoes, and now he must fry some steak. Accordingly, the pan was put on the fire, which happened to be very hot. The meat was soon cooked, and now, like a good cook, he must have some gravy ; he ran for some flour and some water which happened to be cold. Instead of pouring the water gradually into the pan, he did it in haste, and soon there was a blaze, when he seized the pan and burnt his arm, which of course was more than he had bar- gained for, therefore he threw down the blaz- ing article, which of necessity was soon cracked in the middle, aad he never more 104 BACHELORS' HALL. ventured to cook his dinner in Bachelor's Hall. Perhaps some of our female friends may be ready to say, " the bachelor preachers were right served. Each should have taken to himself a wife." Be merciful, fair friends. Know ye not that such is the inexorable law of Methodism the world over ; that all its •• helpers " must travel four years' probation before they can be permitted to visit Hy- men's Altar ; and as only one of the three had fulfilled that regulation, consequently he was the only one entitled to the privilege, and he having been at the altar before, he seemed to be more than ordinarily cautious about visiting the sacred place again. The other two often threatened to leave him, but all in vain ; for two long years he lived in that solitary place without one of the daughters of Eve to comfort him. We will not, in this place, say anything against what some have been pleased to term, *' the popish rule of Methodism,'* but would just say for the comfort of our fair friend^!, that all the three BA CHEL ORS ' HALL, ^o5 bachelors in due time became • perfect mem- bers in society ; that is, they got married ; and so will not be likely ever to go through the scenes of Bachelors' Hall agam. During the time that the three sons of John Wesley resided in the unique spot with which we have now made our readers ac- quainted, the subject of Phrenology was ex- citing great attention in some parts of Eng- land. The two junior bachelors entered into the subject with great spirit, no doubt believing that the subject was true. One day a wandering lecturer visited the town. He found his way to the hall where he was entertained for an hour. The lecturer was a believer in Mesmerism, and he was accompa- nied by two females, both of whom he could put into a state of clairvoyance, and then excite the different organs of their craniums. This was grand for our juvenile friends who had never seen the like before. The lecturer in a day or two got up a public meeting which they both patronized. This was an un- fortunate step, as the people became dissatis- H io6 BACHELORS' HALL. fied and thought that their ministers should have been better employed than in patronizing a man about whom they knew so little. We believe the young men never allowed them- selves to be drawn again into such circum- stances. It is dangerous to take up with strangers, and we may learn how circumspect ministers have need to be ; for whenever they deviate in the least from their own peculiar path, there are always some ready to send up a tremendous hue and cry. It would be well for all persons to ascertain what are the principles of every lecturer who may ask their patronage, for without they do so, they may bring themselves into serious aiffi- culties. We take leave of Bachelors' Hall by saying that it has become the abode of ministers, who have each in their turn en- tered the marriage state, and whatever may be said by some about the advantages of a single state, we advise all persons, particularly ministers, to leave that state to those who can do no better, and follow St. Paul's ad- BACHELORS' HALL. 107 vice and become the husband of one wife, as thereby, they will escape many of the temptations which beset the path of young men who go from place to place and mingle with all sorts of people. None but those who have trod the path of an itinerant know the difficulties with which such persons have to contend. Moreover, what can be more cheering after a sojourn of some days among persons of different classes than to return home and find a kind wife, who has provided everything necessary for her husband^s com- fort. " But this I say, brethren, the time is short ; it remaineth, that both they that have wives be as though they had none." The truth cf this saying of Scripture has often been verified, and in the course of a few years its truth is again and again fulfilled. He who was the widower in Bachelors' Hall, after a residence there of two years took to himself another wife, who was in all respects a suitable companion for him ; but after twelve or thirteen years had rolled ii io8 BACHELORS' HALL. away he left his beloved companion a widow, with several children to mourn their loss. A few more years passed away and the pale horse and his rider came for her also, and thus the dear children were left orphans. May the God of their father protect them. He did not leave them wealth, but he left them a better heritage, the legacy of a godly example. He was a blessed man, one whose memory we revere and with whom we hope to walk the streets of the New. Jerusalem. The second bachelor, after being a married man for the space of twenty years, was called from the busy scenes of life, and the youngest himself, now somewhat stricken with years, is the writer of this article. He re- veres the memory of those departed ones who have passed on before. CHAPTER VII. THE MODEL MINISTER. IN the course of our life, we have known many ministers in various branches of the Church of Christ, in all of which there were not a few whose names we revere and whose works praise them in the gate. Most of those with whom it has been our privilege to associate, have had some peculiarity by which they were distinguished from others. In some, the gift of oratory has been con- spicuous ; in others, there would be much rhetorical flourish, while probably the majori- ty were known for their plainness of speech, mingled with perspicuity of style. It is not going too far to say, that some whom we have known in the priest's office, committed a great mistake when they took upon them- selves the office of the ministry, for if they were really called to the apostleship, we I! t^^^ no r/f£ MODEL MINISTER, hardly think that any could sc e evidence of the call but themselves. It is not to be ex- pected, but that there* would be instances of moral delinquency, even among those who believed themselves called of God to be His ambassadors to mankind, but we venture the opinion, that of the hundreds whom we have known, there were but few who brought re- proach upon the sacred office. Let the same number of persons be selected in any other profession, and we believe there would not be found such a number of disinterested, upright, consistent persons. We have been accus- tomed to mingle with ministers from the days of our boyhood, and know whereof we affirm. There is, however, one minister, whom we knew for about forty years. He came to the house of our parents at an early period of our life, and as the house was not large, it often fell to our lot to sleep in the same room, and in many instances, occupy the same bed, with this man of God ; and well do we remem- ber how he impressed our youthful heart with a sense of admiration for his character. HE MODEL MINISTER. Ill There was an amount of sanctity and gravity about him, which we do not remember ''^ have seen about any other minister, with whom we were acquainted, and some how or other, we could not help thinking that he was a good man, not that we intend to con- vey the idea that others were not good men, but only that he was good to an extraordin- ary degree. In private prayer, both morning and evening, we well remember how that he used to spend much time, and when reading the Holy Scriptures he would do so kneel- ing. It was the custom in those days for ale to be used at dinner and supper, but, the minister in question, could never be induced to partake even of the home-brewed beer, but would excuse himself by saying, that he " abstained for example's sake." As we grew to manhood, and were also called into the ministry, we became more familiar with the history of our protege, and were better capable of forming a correct opinion as to the ability and character of him whom we have chosen to designate, by the 112 THE MODEL MINISTER, title at the head of this chapter ; and we are glad to record the fact, that our better ac- quaintance did not cause us to alter the opinion that we had formed of him in our youthful days. In all succeeding years, though we had many opportunities of being intimately associated with him, we were more and more convinced of the correctness of the position that we had assumed. His pie^y was conspicuous. Religion with him was not an empty name, or a vague pro- fession ; nor was it a matter of mere senti- ment, but a work of grace in the heart. At an early period in his life he became a new creature in Christ Jesus, and though he could never tell the exact day, nor the hour, when the happy change was effected, yet he felt satisfied that he was a child of God, and could testify that he knew in whom he had believed. From the moment of his espousal of Christ, he knew nothing among men save Christ Jesus and Him crucified. It was his constant desire to become a burning and shining light ; hence, he hungered and thirst- THE MODEL MINISTER. "3 ed after righteousness, and panted after in- ward holiness. Believing as he did, that en- tire sanctification was the privilege of-all be- lievers, he sought this great blessing, and for more than thirty years he testified that " the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." To assist his growth in grace he often spent whole days in humiliation and fasting. Some- times he would set apart a day in the week for this special purpose, and when thus en- gaged, he would examine himself most minute- ly, and test himself by the highest standards of moral excellence. He was never proud of his attainments, nor loud in his profession of holiness, but, in meekness and humility, he would declare what great things God had done for him. To his dying day, he be- lieved and preached holiness of heart, and one of the last public efforts of his life was delivering a lecture to the ministerial students on this all-important subject. He was an eminently holy man. Such being his character, he was neces- sarily a man of prayer. Whatever difficulty .!; iJ 114 THE MODEL MINISTER. iw he might have to encounter, he would be sure to pray about it. He beheved in God as an answeter of prayer. This was the main secret of his success. In his intercourse with young ministers, when they would be relating any particular difficulty, which they had to en- counter, he would always say, " Be sure and say your prayers over it/* This was the method which he pursued, and having experi- enced its advantages, he could with confidence recommend it to others. Eminent piety is always essential to use- fulness. No man, no matter what may be his talents, can succeed in the great work of the Ministry, unless he is pre-eminently a man of prayer. The man Christ Jesus, who is the model of all true ministers, spent much time in this exercise, and was wont to spend whole nights in prayerful intercourse with his Hea- venly Father. While, however, our model minister was a man of much prayer, he was not a fanatic. He did not regard prayer as the only duty which devolved upon him. He studied to THE MODEL MINISTER. "5 le" )le ja- a tic. Lty to " shew himself approved unto God, a work- man that needeth not to be ashamed,^rightly dividing the word of truth ; " hence, he re- deemed the time, that he might have oppor- tunity to pursue his studies. When only eighteen years of age, he was called to engage in the holy ministry. Of course, he did not enjoy the advantages of a course of scholastic training. His educational advantages in youth were meagre, but he applied himself with so much diligence to the pursuit of knowledge that his attainments were both varied and extensive, and those who knew him best, were often astonished at his pro- ficiency. He occupied some hard stations in the Church of v hich he was a minister ; indeed the denomination, when he became associated with it, was in its infancy, and was mainly composed of poor people. At his first appointment, which was in South Wales, the house at which he lodged was small, and he could only share a bed in company with two other persons. In all the circuits to which he was appointed, he never preached ii6 THE MODEL MINISTER. ' less than six or seven times a week, often in the open air, besides performing long journeys on foot. There was no prescribed course of study for young ministers in those days, all followed their own inclinations, and formed their own plans, butour mode^. minister, being a Metho- dist, felt it to be his duty to make himself familiar with the writings of Wesley, Fletcher, Watson, and other Methodist authors ; but, above all other books, he read the Bible. No day elapsed without a considerable portion of time being occupied with the Book of Books. He was not in circumstances to enrich himself with a large library^ as through life he was poor, often extremely so, and as he would ne^''er contract debts without a probability of being able to pay them, he would not even purchase books on credit. But though he was not able to enrich himself with tomes of literature,- such books as he owned were well read ; and during the years of his probation especially, he read few books except such as were writ- ten by Methodist authors. No doubt this THE MODEL MWISTER, 117 was the chief reason why he was always regarded to be a sound Methodist theologian. Our model minister was very anxious to be able tv» read the Scriptures in the languages in which they were originally written, hence he devoted himself with intense application to the study of Greek and Hebrew, and after some time spent with these, he began the study of Latin and French, in all of which he could read and speak with considerable fluency. To those who knew how much official business he had to transact, and how much time was necessarily consumed in the various duties of his circuits, some of which were extensive, and among the most import- ant in the connexion, it was astonishing that he accomplished so much. But the secret was, he was always methodical and punctual. " He was never unemployed, nor triflingly -employed." When he became editor of the connexional publications, which office he sus- tained for the period of six years, his whole time could be spent with his books, though he even then preached for the most part ii8 THE MODEL MINISTER, twice every Sabbath. At this period of his life, however, he has been known to spend fifteen or sixteen hours daily in reading and writing. Such close application was too severe a task for his fragile constitution. When he was appointed Governor of the College, and also Theological Tutor (to both of which offices he was the first minister in the denomination so app.nnted), he was a mature Christian, but he was still an earnest student, and was bent upon increasing his stock of knowledge as far as his opportunities allowed. He did not indulge much in spec- ulative studies, but always aimed to be prac- tical; hence in all his discourses and published writings, there is nothing doubtful or ambigu- ous. Usefulness was the great thing which he studied to accomplish, and to this end he used such language as could not be con- demned. He truly sought to find out accept- , able words, and lost sight of everything but how to be useful. For popularity, so called, he cared but little. His highest ambition was to save souls. None could hear him THE MODEL MINISTER, 119 either from the pulpit or the platform with- out being convinced of this ; hence, while there was nothing to offend the most fastidi- ous taste, and every sentence would be gram- matically constructed, yet all his addresses were prepared and delivered in the most plain and easy style. He studied to be perspicuous, and this he accompHshed without the least indication of bombast. Our model minister excelled in another department of ministerial qualification — he was a faithful pastor. He shepherded the flock well, and took great pains to watch over it in love. When it was our privi- lege to be associated with him, the circuit system was more prevalent than it is at pre- sent. Circuits were large, so that in some instances, four or more ministers would be stationed to one circuit, who would have twenty or, may be, thirty preaching appoint- ments under their care. At each of the smaller places service would be held once a fortnight on the week evenings, which would b? supplied bv the ministers in turn, and also I 1 20 THE MODEL MINISTER. occasional services on the Sabbath, and the rest of the appointments would be supplied by local preachers. When the ministers held services at the respective country ap- pointments, they would remain over night in the neighbourhood, and during the fore- noon of the next day they would call upon as many of the members of the flock as circum- stances would allow. Of course all were not alike in the discharge of this important duty : some would do it in a very perfunctory man- ner, if they ever did it at all, but he whom we regard as our model minister v^/as sure to be found attending to pastoral duties at every place where he tarried for the night. He did not merely visit the rich, or such as might be in better circumstances than the majority ; indeed, we have known him found fault with by some of this class, as they con- sidered his modesty caused him to pass them by. When told of this, he would say, " I would rather have the rich to complain ot me, for slighting them, than the poor." To the sick, and such as were in trouble, he THE MODEL MINISTER, X2I was a faithful, sympathising friend, and safe counsellor. He would even tarry by the sick couch all night, if he thought there was a probability of the invalid being called away before morning. His deep sympathy and strong faith eminently qualified him for this branch of ministerial duty, which always made his labours to be very much appreci- ated, and tended greatly to make him suc- cessful in the great work of saving souls. It did not seem to be possible for him to be comfortable if he did not see good done. He would weep and agonize with God in prayer on behalf of the flock over which he was made the overseer, and do all in his power to promote the welfare of Zion. It must not, however, be supposed that, in visiting the flock, he went merely to spend an hour in social converse. His visits were really pastoral in their character. He would inquire after the spiritual welfare of the in- mates of the house, give such words of en- couragement or admonition as he deemed to be necessary, then read the Scriptures, I 122 THE MODEL MINISTER. offer prayer, and go on his way. In this manner, we have known hirn to make as many as twenty visits in one forenoon, and then, in the afternoon, he would go on his way to the place of his next appointment. We venture to remark that the discharge of pastoral duties in such a manner as our model minister performed his part of such duty would, in general, be attended with similar results, though we are well aware that such a mode of visiting would not, as a gen- eral rule, give universal satisfaction. Many people are like a certain old lady on whom we called for the first time after our arrival at the circuit to which we were appointed. Having made certain inquiries of the good sister, we ended our visit with prayer, and were about to depart, and when shaking hands we said, rather facetiously, that we would call this one visit : "indeed," said the lady, " I shall do no such thing, for it is no visit, unless the minister brings his wife and spends the afternoon.'* So many of our people do not regard the call of their minis- THE MODEL MINISTER, 123 ter a pastoral visit, unless he remains a good portion of an afternoon or evening ; and thus he spends hours of precious time, in what the venerable founder of Methodism was accus- tomed to call, " godly chit-chat." We think that the less there is of such visiting the better, as for the most part, it tends to dissi- pation, and is often productive of much in- jury both to pastor and people. Our model minister, too, was faithful in administering the discipline of the Church. Official meetings were regularly held at the various places of which he had the pastoral care, when strict inquiries were made respect- ing all matters pertaining to the welfare of the flock ; and if he found that there were names of persons on the Church-roll, of whom there were doubts respecting their moral character, or who were negligent in their attendance at the various means of grace, he would insist upon the most rigid examina- tion being made into such cases, and would see to it, that each one was dealt with ac- cording to his respective merits. On this 124 THE MODEL MINISTER, account some deemed him too strict, and by his faithfulness in cutting off unworthy per- sons from the Church, he often made him- self enemies who would seek, by every means, to stir up strife. He once wrote thus in his journal, " Surely I have need of patience while labouring among men who love to have the pre-eminence, and who cannot bear to have their wishes crossed in the least. While I have had to suffer from those quarters, the following passage has constantly followed me, * The servant of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, in meekness instructing those who oppose themselves/ Again, * I am called to suffer the imputation of unkind things of which I am wholly innocent. To have my motives miscon- strued, and what I do in kindness to be con- sidered as proceeding from pride and haugh- tiness, is always a source of trial to me. But I am enabled patiently to submit to it.' '' Thus it will be seen that sometimes his path was far from being as smooth as some THE MODEL MINISTER, 125 people think falls to the lot of ministers. But he lived only to do good, and regarded it to be as much his duty to occasionally use the chisel and mallet of discipline as to preach those truths which are of the most pleasant and agreeable kind, the tendency of which is always to cheer and delight the people of God. He was often the subject of bodily weakness, and had frequently ap- prehensions that he would probably be called to fill a premature grave. Once he wrote : " The labours I have undergone have con- siderably impaired my health, and injured my constitution. There is every probability of my coming to a premature grave." Still there was no complaining of the hardness of his lot^ but the contrary. " On looking back upon the years that are passed, I see cause for great humility. Alas ! what little zeal I what little love ! what weak faith ! what little spirituality of mind have I enjoyed to what I should possess ! How poor my qualifica* tions for the important work in which I am pngaged ! Yet I feel grateful to God, that 126 THE MODEL MINISTER. he has allowed me to be put in trust with the Gospel, and that he has enabled me to labour so much as I have.'' From these extracts the reader will see that our model minister was not high-minded, nor did he think of himself more highly than he ought to think. He was always ready to prefer others to himself, and in all the meet- ings in which it was our pleasure to be asso- ciated with him, he was always disposed to take the humblest place. When the minis- ters were being stationed at the district meet- ing or conference, he would never be seen to interfere or use the least influence to secure any desirable appointment for himself or any special friend. We have known him, when a word would have secured for him a much more desirable station than the one to which he was sent, and yet he would be perfectly passive. We do not believe that he ever, in a single instance, sought to influ- ence those who had the power in making the appointments, but cheerfully went to what- ever place he might be sent. He was a THE MODEL MINISTER, 127 purely disinterested man, strictly conscien tious in the most minute matters. None could charge him with mercenary motives. Though poverty was his lot, yet he never complained, even though he was obliged to appear in the plainest garb. T^ike the Apos- tle Paul, he had learned, " in whatever state he was, therewith to be content." We do not remember a minister who so well answers the description given by Cow- per : — ** Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul, Were he on earth, would hear, approve, and own, Paul should direct me. I would express him, simple, grave, sincere, In doctrine, uncorrupt ; in language, plain ; And plain in manner, decent, solemn, chaste. And natural in gesture ; much impress 'd Himself, as conscious of his awful charge. And anxious, mainly, that the flock he feeds May feel it too ; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men." Such was John Petty, of the Primitive Methodist Church, England, who died in 128 7HE MODEL MINISTER, the City of York, April 22nd, 1868, in joy- ful hope of a glorious resurrection. Those who knew him best will agree with us, that taking him all in all, we shall not readily fmd another in every respect equal to him whom we have chosen to designate The Model Minister. CHAPTER VIII. THE DELINQUENT. IN the days of our boyhood, Methodist ministers were accustomed to stay at our father^s house, sometimes for days to- gether. Among others, who did so, was a " canny Scotchman,*' whose career was some- what sad, as the sequel will show. He was reared in poverty, but was favoured with such an education as the parish system of Scot- land then afforded. We do not think that he had been taught any particular branch of trade, and as he advanced to manhood, he was unsettled, and altogether uncertain, as to what should be his future mode of life. The choice which he made will perhaps excite some surprise, for he actually resolved to become a theatrical performer. He and another young friend became companions, and purchased such books as, they presumed, 130 THE DELINQUENT. 'i\ M would enable them to become somewhat distinguished in the profession which they had chosen. In due time, they thought that they were advancing so rapidly, that they might give a performance in the open-air, as strolling players of that oay were wont to do. Their success did not equal their expecta- tions, but this they attributed to the want of taste on the part of their patrons. Hoping that they would be better appreciated, they hired themselves to the manager of a theatre in Glasgow, feeling assured, that they would rise rapidly to fame, and soon become so popular, as to be able to secure whatever amount they might see fit to ask for thei: services. But, alas, for our ambitious youths, their talents, however brilliant they might appear in their own estimation, were not of that high order to draw a " full house," consequently, instead of being in constant demand as they fondly hoped to be, they received a polite intima- *' 1 from the manager, that their services were no longer required. Thus crest-fallen, our amateur performers, THE DELINQUENT. 131 or w juld-be comedians, one day left their lodgings in the city, and rambled about, they hardly knew whither, when, lo ! Miey espied a crowd of persons on ** the green," who were gathered around a man, wi o was mounted on a chair, and addressing the multitude with some rather strange gesticulations of manner. They were prompted by a feeling of curiosity, to draw near and see what was to do, when, behold, there was a man of middle stature, plain appearance, with somewhat of a clerical garb, except that his coat, as one of them afterwards described it, ^' was one oiiht flitch . of bacon styled In short, he was an earnest, Godfearing, humble, Methodist preacher, who merited the description given of George Thompson by Dr. Chalmers, " that he went about the work of soul-saving in a most business-like manner.'' This earnest son of John Wesley, in obedience to the Saviour*s command, had gone out into the streets and lanes of the city, to invite men to come to the Gospel-feast. There was something about this ambassa- 132 THE DELINQUENT. ■M dor of the cross, which indicated to our hero and his companion, that however some clergy- men might perchance, as a distinguished comedian expresses it, "preach truth as though it were fiction,'* yet such was not the case with him, whom they heard on *' the green.'* Every word was spoken with power, and when any additions were made to the crowd, the man of God seemed at once, to preach directly to them, as though he were resolved to secure their attention, and gain them as adherents to his car se. This was' especially the case, when the chief person of our story joined the congre- gation. He never heard such burning words before ; all the sins of his life seemed to pass in review before him. He was horror stricken at the enormity of his crimes, and began to think, that until that moment, he had lived to no purpose. He wished that he had never left his lodgings, and yet here he was in the crowd ; he wanted to get away, and yet could not do so. The poor man felt such a perturbation of feeling, as he could not des- THE DELINQUENT. 133 cribe ; he was wretched in the extreme, and was so terrified that he felt afraid, lest he should there and then sink into hell. As the crowd dispersed, **poor Sandy" re- turned to his miserable lodgings, without really knowing what he should do in the future. Of one thing he was sure, as he inti- mated to his companion, he was done with " the stage '* for ever. A more honest mode of life should henceforth be adopted. He sought employment in a city factory, and embraced every opportunity to hear and converse with the minister with whom he had become so singularly acquainted. As to the religious belief of this son ot Scotia, we dare say it was like that of his countrymen generally, of the Calvinian type, while the minister whom he had heard preach, belonged to the Arminian school. They convc.sed together repeatedly, and the good man from south of the border soon found that he must force his way through a whole body of divinity, before he could reach the heart of his young friend. Eventually, how- 134 THE DELINQUENT. ever, they both could adopt the same creed. The young man saw, that in order to make his own salvation sure, he " must feel a sure confidence that Christ died for my sins, that he loved me and gave himself for me." Like all penitent sinners, the moment our young Scotch friend believed this truth, God par- doned and absolved him. The intended comedian was now a de- voted Methodist, and like all worthy mem- bers of that persuasion, he soon began to exercise his gifts, in telling others how he had found the pearl of great price. His meek and Christian deportment, gained him the admira- tion, even of some whose conduct he reprov- ed. The minister and official members of the Church promoted him from one position to another, until at length he was recom- mended as a suitable person to be employed in the Ministry. The Theological Institutions of Didsbury, Richmond and Headingiy were then un- known in the parent body of the Methodist Church, and not one of the minor bodies of THE DELINQ UENT, I3S Methodism had as yet even thought of having " a school for the prophets/' Had there been such an establishment, this em- bryo divine would doubtless have been sent thither, as his attainments in Arminian The- ology were very limited, and his stock of general information was exceedingly small. Of course, he had but few sermons, for we believe that the contents of his library and wardrobe were compressed into one valise. Methodist Circuits in England were very extensive in those days. The sons of John Wesley were then at any rate, literally "travel- ling '* preachers. The itinerant would gene- rally ^leave the circuit-town, on Saturday afternoon, or, at latest, early on Sabbath morning, and would not return until the Thursday or Friday following. Of course, one minister would remain in town, for in some instances there would be as many as four or five ministers in a circuit, all of whom would travel regularly round. The system was laborious and inconvenient, but it pos- 136 THE DELINQUENT. sessed this advantage, that such of the sons of Levi, who only could boast of having a small " stock in trade," could get along with comfort, seeing that they could often repeat the same sermon. It was to one of those large circuits that the youth from " the land o' cakes " was sent. The reader may judge of its dimensions, when we inform him that we have just ex- amined the Minutes of Conference, and find that the said circuit has been divided again and again, until now that one circuit has be- come eight or nine, and where five ministers were stationed, there are now nearly twenty. We well remember the time when we first saw the " new preacher from Scotland." He had been at several of the places in the cir- cuit before this, and had made his mark. Many inquiries had been made respecting him, and it was well known from what text he had preached at the various places which he had visited. We were a little curious on the occasion referred to as to whether the " new preacher " would take the same text THE DELINQUENT. 137 as had already done good service. The sus- pense was soon removed, for the text was announced to be " The Acts, xix. 2/' Of course it was expected that the preacher would speak freely and without embarrass- ment, as he understood very well what he was to say. All were well pleased with what they heard though there was some peculiar- ity of accent and pronunciation; but the interest of the congregation was thereby in- creased. Several years rolled away and the writer was called into "the active work." How well he was qualified for a work of such im- portance others must testify ; but to him it was a somewhat pleasing anticipation that " the young man from Scotland " was to be one of his colleagues, and though he was not certain that there was another person in the circuit to whom [he was known, he felt as- sured that his old fiiend would welcome him as one of his associates. Nor was he disap- pointed, for on arriving at the circuit town the house of our colleague was the first in J 138 THE DELINQUENT. i which we sojourned. He and his ^' better half" gave us a most cordial welcome, and for about twelve months we had much inter- course together, and often exchanged books and assisted each other in various ways. Though we were young and inexperienced, there were some things about our Scotch col- league which seemed to us very strange and mysterious. His conversation was not so pious as we expected it to be, and his rela- tion of certain things about various persons often filled us with astonishment. He was different from our other colleague^ the sup- erintendent, in every respect. His habits of study surprised us, especially when we knew that the first sermon we heard him preach was still in use. The time came for us to separate, one of us, like Abraham, was sent by the Conference, to a circuit in the, south, while the other was sent in a westerly direction among the mountaineers of a district which had long been famous in the annals of Methodism. We never met again in the capacity of mini- THE DELINQUENT. 139 sters, and indeed only once had we the privilege of seeing our former friend, when his appearance and the remembrance of how we had known him, affected us to such a degree that we left him with as little delay as possible. But we anticipate. One day the writer was in his study when the postman rang the bell which we soon an- swered, and the first letter we opened contained the mournful intelligence, that the Rev. had left the ministry in disgrace. We were stunned, and it was some time before we could recover our usual equilibrium. We made many inquiries as to what our friend had done, and learned that he had fallen into sin and tendered his resignation, which had been accepted. The unfortunate man took his family to a neighbouring town, where for the rest of his days, he dragged out a miserable existence. Henceforth the career of this unhappy man was one of a downward tendency. We saw him standing at his second-hand book- stall, when he was truly the picture of poverty. 140 THE DELINQUENT, w m lli % There he stood and tried to sell a book oc- casionally, but buyers were few. He was a poor shrivelled creature, who looked as though he did not obtain sufficient food to support his tottering body. Some of his children had grown up and were able to pro- vide for themselves. His poor emaciated wife stood by him in all his troubles, and never forsook him notwithstanding his num- erous acts of moral delinquency. The Church of which he had been a minister overlooked the sad improprieties of which he had been guilty, and strove hard to save him from final ruin. Some of the ministers, .rom their own scanty resources, used to send him and his family relief All fondly hoped that he was mending his ways, and that at length he would go down to the grave in peace \ but, alas I all the while that he was thus being nursed and cared for, he was pursuing a course of conduct which was sapping the very vitals of his constitution and hastening him to a premature grave. " The little Scotchmaii," as he was now de- THE DELINQUENT, 141 signaled, was not so regularly at his book- stall as formerly, and when there his appear- ance was of the most ghastly description, and at length he was absent altogether. His abode was visited by a good Samaritan friend, who procured for him a medical attendant and such other comforts as a dying man needed, but his life was fast ebbing away. The gentleman of **the healing art" who visited him was unremitting in his atten- dance, and even called other members of the profession to his assistance ; but their united skill, aided by the most powerful stimulants, could not keep the soul and body of their patient together. The medical gen- tlemen assured him aiat they were bafRed with his case,, and advised him to make a speedy settlement of his affairs, and make all needful preparation for his final exit, as they could not hold out the slighest hope of his long continuance in this life. The dying man, as though he was at length aroused to a state of consciousness as to the real state of his condition, confessed to the 142 THE DELINQUENT. 4' If I good samaHtan friend that his life had been one of deception, and that even while he was making the greatest pretensions to piety he was practising sins which he durst not men- tion, and that his course of vice had brought him to this end. " The good Samaritan '^ had seen many unhappy cases of sin finding a man out but he never saw the like of this. Here lay a moral wreck. As the Samaritan thought on the past, and remembered how that the victim of sin and disease whom he now saw, had often pointed others to the Saviour, so he now besought him to seek for mercy at the hands of God who will abund- antly pardon. Prayer was repeatedly offered, and the good Samaritan said that he hoped never to see such another case. Death soon came and ended the career of one who might have been of service in the Christian Church. Let us cast the mantle of charity over him and leave him in the hands of a merciful, but just and holy, Je- hovah. The good Samaritan friend saw him de- cently buried, and the writer begs his readers ;!'! THE DELINQUENT. 143 to watch and pray lest they enter into temp- tation. " Keep thy tongue from evil and thy lips from speaking guile." " Stand not in the way of sinners.'* " Depart from evil." A man cannot take hot coals into his bosom and not be burnt, nor can young people as- sociate with bad companions, or read books which are of a vicious tendency, or witness such exhibitions as are to be seen in places of amusement, or attend carnivals and mas- querades, without having their morals cor- rupted, and bring themselves into circum- stances, from which they will wish, when too late, to be extricated. I 11 ),> CHAPTER IX. MISSIONARY SINGERS. THERE is probably no county in Eng- land equal to Yorkshire for zeal in the cause of missions. It was at Leeds, a town in the said county, where the Wesleyan Missionary Society was inaugurated, and for many years, the keynote Missionary Meeting has been held at this celebrated place. During the missionary week in October, in- cluding one Sabbath, services of various kind^ are held, al' " which tend to fan the flame of missi' zeal, and such as attend those hallowt^ services can never forget the seasons of enjoyment in which they then participate. To attend a Missionary Anniversary in a Yorkshire village, is an event of more than ordinary interest. Business of every descrip- tion seems then to be suspended, and the MISSION AR Y SINGERS, 145 villagers will look for their friends to visit them, that they may enjoy the festal day to- gether ; some favourite minister or ministers will attend as " the deputation," and all will strive to do their utmost to make the anni- versary a grand success. The collectors will have visited all the subscribers in their re- spective districts, and will have their moneys ready for the local treasurer who will present a full report at the public meeting. If the total receipts do not exceed the proceeds of the preceding year, there will be something like universal disappointment. Some missionary collectors display con- siderable ij genuity in raising money. We have known some to dedicate a sheep, or a pig, or a calf, or geese to the good cause, while some would even retail small wares, or gather rags, and devote the proceeds to the missionary cause. The ladies, of course, are almost sure to have a tea-party on the anniversary day, and, may be also, a bazaar, at which their ornamental and useful articles will be exhibited in the grandest style. \M ! 146 MISSIONAR V SINGERS, Canada, though very zealous in the mis- sionary enterprise, has not yet equalled ihe mother-country in its zeal *n contriving ways and means for the extension of the good cause. An amusing incident occurred about twenty years ago, in one of the townships of Ontario. Two young ladies who were mis- sionary collectors were peregrinating abroad, when they met one of the municipal council- lors to whom they stated their business, and solicited aid for their laudable object. He very playfully said, " There is a hill yonder which the Council has agreed to have levelled down, and they have appropriated twenty- five dollars for the purpose, if you'll get the work done, I'll give you the money." " Agreed," said the ladies, " we'll get it done." In a few days afterwards the said council- lor saw a number of young men with teams at wG'ii, reducing the hill, and about noon a number of young ladies were there also, hav- ing prepared dinner for the voluntary work- men whom they had secured to perform the MISSIONARY SINGERS. 147 work assigned ; in short, these ingenious ladies had got up *' a bee " for the purpose of reducing the hill, and when the work was completed, the pathmaster inspected the road, and declared himself well-pleased with the manner in which the work had been per- formed, and gave his order on the Treasurer of the municipality for the payment of the amount appropriated by the Council The ladies were jubilant about their success, and the said hill is often known even at this day as the " Missionary Hill." The scene, however, with which we de- sire tc make our readers acquainted trans- pired in one of the dales of Yorkshire, not far from the famous mountain known as ** Roseberry-topping." A number of friends — chiefly young people of both sexes — met together to improve each other in the grand accomplishment of singing. Having learned a few tunes, they were encouraged to sing in public, and one evening, as the moon and stars were shining brightly, our amateur singers had been at the meeting for practice, 148 MISSION AR Y SINGERS. i and were dispersing to their respective homes, when they commenced singing in the open air, and, as the quiet of evening was^universal, the sound of the music was heard at a great distance. Some of the denizens were just retiring to rest, and, as the sound o^ vocal music reached their respective domiciles, they wondered what it could be. Just now, the choristers arrived at the residence of some of their company, for whose special benefit they sung a farewell song. As the piece was being sung, the master of the house, not knowing what to make of all this nocturnal music, threw up the sash of his chamber window, and, when there was a lull of the singing, he called out, " Who are ye ? *' One of the company replied, " D'y not 'naw y*re naighbours, and here^s twa of y're awn bairns amang us.'* " Weel, weel," said the sleepy listener, ** come back at Christmas, and aw'll pay ye.'* This was a new idea. '* Come back at Christmas i " The musical performers had never imagined that they would so soon be- MISSIONAR Y SINGERS. 149 come so distinguished as to receive money for their services ; however, they talked the matter over, and as Christmas was coming, and the missionary meeting would shortly be held, it was soon suggested that the party should go forth on Christmas Day, and sing through the neighbourhood, and collect whatever they could secure, and appropriate the entire proceeds to the missionary meeting. Christmas-day arrived, two old gentlemen, both of whom were official members in the Church, headed the vocal band, who started forth on their singing excursion. The old gentlemen rode on horses but the rest of the party, including several persons, both male and female, went on foot. During that memorable day, they went up hill and down vale, and called at all the farm-houses to which they could gain access, and sung a few choice pieces and then solicited aid for the mission cause. They were cordially re- ceived everywhere, and on reaching " the manse " of the parish clergyman, the reve- rend gentleman was so well pleased with ISO MISSION AR Y SINGERS. their services, that he not only gave them a contribution, but also regaled them with some of the good things, such as the tables of the gentry in England usually contain in pro- fusion, at the Christmas season. The day*s travel was replete with num- erous incidents, mostly of a pleasant na- ture. No person attempted to treat them otherwise than in the most civil manner. Most expressed themselves as being delight- ed that they had been visited in such a cheer- ful style. They were frequently invited to partake of " social cheer,*' but all the party being Methodists, they resolved, at the com- mencement of their day*s toil, that they would not, on any account, touch intoxicating drinks. In several instances, they sung at the outside of the houses, and when they did so, even the horses on which the old gentle- men rode, seemed to be charmed as they stood perfectly still, and appeared to enjoy the strains of the Christmas melodies. By reason of much walking, the young ladies began to experience a sense of fatigue, MISSIONARY SINGERS. 151 and therefore it was suggested, that they should be lifted on the horses and sit behind the old gentlemen, as ladies were wont to do in the olden time. Soon stalwart arms were stretched out, and the maidens were seated beside the sires, and on, on the party went, making the air vocal wit-" their jubilant strains. Once when the horses were drinking at a stream which ran across the road, by some means the young ladies were precipitated into the water, and thus received a colder ablution than they anticipated; but, as this was the only accident which befel them in their day's peregrination, it only served to make them more merry for the time being. Pecuniarily considered,the singing was a great success, and for several years the practice of Christmas singing was continued, and from the last Missionary Report which came in our way, we learned the gratifying fact, that the sum of five pounds (equal to about twen- ty-five dollars) is credited to "Christmas Sing- ers " at Bilsdale. This incident shows that persons can, by t I 152 MISSION AR V SINGERS, a variety of means, aid in the extension of Messiah^s kingdom. Singing is a grand ac- complishment. A person who can play skil- fully on an instrument, or who is possessed of good vocal powers, is in possession of a talent which, if rightly employed, may be made the means of accomplishing much good, but, too frequently, musical talent is misappropriated ; hence we find those who are regarded as being possessed of more than ordinary skill in the musical profession, are frequently allured to operas and theatres, where their services are in great demand, and even opera-singers are sometimes to be found in church choirs on Sabbath days. Such things ought not to be, for Christ says " No man can serve two masters." Let our musical friends remember that the talent with which they are endued is entrust- ed to them by God, and for the right and proper use of the same, they will by-and-bye be called to give an account. This noble gift should always be employed to promote the divine glory and the best interests of our MISSIONARY SINGERS, 153 fellowmen. Let every one say with Paul, "I will sing with the spirit and with the under- standing also." " Praise God in his sanctuary, praise him in the firmament of his power. Praise him with the sound of the trumpet, praise him with the psaltery and harp ; praise him with the timbrel and dance ; praise him with stringed instruments and organs. Praise him upon the loud cymbals ; praise him upon the high sounding cymbals. Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord." ■a ■ f III ■ JETHRO. 163 dation. None could absent themselves with- out his knowledge, and such was the faithful record he kept in his class-books, that it could easily be ascertained how his members stood in respect to attendance. When a member was absent from class, he would soon visit the delinquent, and know the reason why. He would reprove or sympathise, or warn, as he deemed to be necessary ; hence, he was generally successful in preventing his members from backsliding. Where there was sickness or any other family trouble, he was ready to pour forth the balm of consolation. He could weep with those who weep ; and none ever found him otherwise than a friend in trouble. ; ^v; We have known class-leaders who com- plained of lack time as a reason for not visit- ing their members. Jethro, for the greater part of his life was a labouring man, and even when he became a sto^e-keeper in a village, he had but little leisure time ; but, somehow he would always secure sufficient to enable him to look after those whom he conceived 164 JETHRO, to be in danger of straying from the fold. Often have we seen him, between the inter- vals of service on the Sabbath, or on a week- evening, going from house to house among the members of his flock. He did not usually make long visits, and on every occasion he would remember the object of which he was in pursuit, so that his conversation would seldom consist of any other topics but such as were of a religious character. We were sometimes accustomed to accompany him on those visiting tours, and were always edi- fied by his counsels and blessed under his prayers. He was truly a faithful man, all loved him as a pastor of the flock, and though some might occasionally be disposed to regard him as being too stern, and consi- der that he was more strict than circum- stances required, yet we believe all revered him, and loved him as a father, who sought the welfare of those over whom he was put in charge. We have reason to know, that Jethro was a man of much prayer. V/hen his class did I I JETHRO. 165 not prosper, or when prayer-meetings and other services were not so faithfully attend- ed, as he thought they should be, he would weep and pray in secret on account thereof. He had regular seasons for private prayer, and was often accustomed to plead much with God on behalf of such cases, as were the occasion of anxiety at the time. He did not own many books, but such as he had were very select, and were well read. We remember how constantly he read Burkitt's Notes on the New Testament. This was always a favourite book with him ; and then, too, the *Connexional Magazine,' several years' of which he had bound,- -was one of his daily companions. These he read again and again, so that he was a good authority on all v.onnexional matters. When Jethro retired from business, he had the more time to devote himself to the inter- ests of the Church, but he never allowed anything — no matter how important it might be considered by others — to interfere with his duty to his class. He always regarded If 1 66 JETHRO. 11 the claims of his class to be paramount above all others ; hence he would be sure to be found at his post. Blessed man ! the remem- brance of his fidelity has often done us good, and stimulated us when we were disposed to be discouraged by reason of the difliculties that we encountered in our pathway ! If all class-leaders performed the duties of their office in the same faithful manner as Jethro was accustomed to do, we feel sure that the class-meeting would not be so often regarded as an unprofitable service, but it would truly become what it was always in- tended to be, a spiritual means of grace. ** Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath done for my soul." ** Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another, and the Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him, for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels ; and I will spare them as a man spareth his own son that serveth him." CHAPTER XL THREE BEACONS. In a large town in the north of England, which was a favourite resort with Methodist ministers, there resided " a beloved physi- cian,'* who was well skilled in the healing art, and whose services were often given gratuit- ously to them and their families. It so happened that at a certain period of our ministry, we were laid aside by affliction, and having tried many physicians, and were no better, we went to the town where " the beloved physician " resided, that we might have the benefit of his skill. It was neces- sary that some of our visits should be pro- tracted occasionally to three or four days. On one of these occasions, while sitting in the house of a friend, who was never more happy than when a number of John Wesley's " helpers '* were his guests, we were intro- ?ir 1 68 THREE BEACONS. duced to a young man, who appeared to be about the age of twenty-one. He had just come from " over the border,*' and was hold- ing forth as a temperance orator, wherever he could obtain an audience. His counte- nance was intelligent, but there was nothing else prepossessing about him. His coat and pants especially were threadbare, and both his hat and boots had evidently seen better days. The wanderer had been picked up by Mr. Greatheart, in the course of the day, and having heard a good account of him from some who had been at his meeting, on the previous evening, he took pity on him, and invited him to the hospitable mansion where we found him. Doubtless, he was very glad of the exchange he had made, for he was now in comfortable quarters, from which there was no danger that he would soon be desired to remove. The Sv^anger was, in the course of the same day, introduced to the acquamtance of some other ministers, one of whom went in the THREE BE A CONS. 169 evening to hear him lecture. Having intim- ated that he had studied for the ministry, and the next day being the Sabbath, he was in- vited to occupy one of the pulpits of the town. He did so, and several of those who had made his acquaintance on the day pre- vious, went to hear him. All were favourably impressed with the sermon, and in all our subsequent visits, we found that the young man was increasing the number of his friends, and was giving proof that he possessed more than an ordinary share of ability. It so happened that there was a vacancy in the ministerial staff in that circuit, where we had all so agreeably met, and our young friend was solicited to supply the vacancy. He was more than willing to do so, and as the time of holding the annual Conference drew near, the question was entertained, as to how he should be introduced into the itinerant work. Testimonials relating to his character were required. These were forth- coming, but some of them were given in a very qualified manner, as though there was 170 THREE BEACONS, \ r. ■':■ something which the parties were afraid to divulge. Hopes were expressed that he might do well. But in that august assembly — a Methodist Conference — there are always to be found men who will take nothing for granted. Everything must be " fair and square " before they can vote, and on the re- ception of young men for the ministry, by whomsoever recommended, there must be a clear case. Alas ! for poor Alek, his antecedents had not been of the most commendable and praiseworthy character. It was strange to some wise men from Gotham, how such an intelligent young man, so well qualified for the ministry, should be living such a vagrant mode of life, for it was intimated that even his temperance advocacy had only lately been taken up, and some even more than hinted, that his habits had not always been such as would justify the Conference, in taking such a person on trial, seeing that he had only re- cently come from Scotland. Thus the matter stood, but at length by a THREE BEA CONS. ni a bare majority, the poor youth was allowed to be received on probation. For twelve months or more he did well. His friends were delighted. The circuit which had so cordially recommended him, and had ex- pended a considerable amount of money on his behalf, that he might have a decent ward- robe and library, retained his services for the first year of his probation, and some of the members of the official board would gladly have retained him even longer but the ma- jority were opposed to this. As the circuit Official Quarterly Meeting did not deem it prudent to retain him a second year on the circuit, he was greatly offended, and in a fit of anger left the minis try. This epoch in his history took place at the time when the stamp-tax on newspapers was repealed, and it was thought that the circulation of the broadsheet would be so much increased that publishers and editors would be in great demand ; hence our '^retired probationer " supposed, that as his term in the ministry had increased the nu'^ber of 172 THREE BEACONS. his friends, he would be sure to have a large number of patrons, if he became the proprie- tor of a weekly journal. With these ideas floating in his brain, he soon issued a small sheet, which he edited with fair ability, but neither the subscription list nor the number of advertisements were equal to his expecta- tions, consequently after a few months, the concern fell through. Shortly after becoming an editor he mar- ried into a respectable family, whose acquain- tance he had formed when in the ministry ; it was, therefore, necessary that he should ex- ert himself to the utmost. He tried hard to establish himself as a journalist, first in one place and then in another, but did not suc- ceed in a single instance. He had neither talent nor capital to compete with larger journals. He was unknown in literary circles. Had he commenced as a writer for different serials, instead of starting a journal of his own, he might have succeeded better ; but he did not choose the humblest position in the first instance, the consequence was, failure and defeat met him at every turn. •- THREE BEACONS. 173 1 iiere is reason to believe that these re- peated failures acted upon Alek as similar reverses have acted upon some other literary characters. Doubtless, too, his former habits returned upon him with great force, and the whiskey-bottle, when it could be obtained, was always resorted to. The subsequent course of this poor unfor- tunate young man, who might have been a great blessing to his fellow-men, was hence- forth one of pain and sorrow. A separation took place between him and his wife. She must of necessity go home to her friends, or starvation would, in all probability, befall her and her babes. Roping that he might do better alone, he returned to the place of his nativity in Scotland, fully resolved to re- trieve his lost fortunes and character ; and for a time, we have reason to believe, that he laboured hard to accomplish his noble object. But the appetite for strong drink was powerful. Want of suitable food often occasioned him much weakness and languor, and the stimulating liquor was had recourse to as a substitute, 174 THREE BEACONS, II Different modes of obtaining a livelihood were adopted by him during his short so- journ in Scotland, but the returns which he obtained for the productions of his pen were very prtjcarious and uncertain, and failed to secure him sufficient for personal comfort. He was drawn into haunts of vice, and was often a companion of those who could re- form a-11 existing abuses both in Church and State, but had not sufficient moral courage to reform themselves. Being a fluent speaker and having a plea- sant mode of address, he often made short speeches m taverns, and would even sing songs for small portions of whiskey. Little did those who heard him preach in Welling- ton Street Church for the first time after set- ting foot on English soil, suppose that he who then discoursed to them on the satisfac- tion of Christ (Isaiah liii. ^2,) would in a few years become a bar-room loafer, and be re- duced to the lowest possible state of existence. But so it was, and here is another victim of the bottle. Another man of talent like Byron, THREE BEACONS. 175 and Steele, and Shelley, and Addison, and a host of others, has been slain. Another candidate for the ministry has been hindered from plying his sacred vocation by the demon alcohol, which still rages in many parts of the Christian Church, and augments the crime and misery of the world. The drinking customs still exist without much visible appearance of decline. Nations claiming to be Christianized derive a large portion of their revenue from the abominable traffic that kills without any mercy, men, wo- men and children. As civilization extends its influence among barbarous nations the drinking customs follow, which are succeeded by diseases which savages never knew, but which soo*". tell upon the poor creatures by rapidly diminishing their numbers, until tribes and nations are swept out of existence. Truly we may say, " How long, O Lord, how long ! '' We close this melancholy sketch of Alek by detailing the circumstances connected p/ith his last few days, which may serve as a. 176 THREE BEACONS. beacon to all who may come after him in the voyage of life. Matters having become hopeless with him at his native place he went to Edin- burgh, where he was in such a state of ex- tremity that in a fit of intoxication he at- tempted to commit suicide. Without any means of subsistence he went on " tramp," and made the attempt t^ walk to a small town in the North of England where his wife and children were residing, but when within thirty miles of the place his strength was so much exhausted that he lay in a haystack most of a fortnight, with scarcely a morsel of food. He was found by some men in a most pitiable condition, who soon informed the authorities of the town of his case, and by them he was removed to the Union Work- house where he soon afterwards died of mortification of the extreniities. A small book was found on his person which contained the following entries in the form of a diary : — " I was robbed last night of about jQi^ all n THREE BEACONS. ITT I had, and a suit of clothes. * The Cock of the Steeple/ " This was the cognomen by which he was known among those with whom he resorted in the scenes of dissipation. What a fall for one who had been an ambassador of Christ ! " The third day I have not had a morsel of food. I have had but one piece of coarse bread since Monday. Surely the bitterness of death is past ! Since then 1 have travelled from Edinburgh. My existence has been a curse to myself and to everybody connected with me, through my own folly. God help my wife and my poor children. " Another day and not a bit of food. Five days and OL.y a bit of coarse bread. Nothing stronger than water has entered my lips ; my clothes have never been off, nor have I lain in a bed. The side of a hay-rick or a plantation has been my bed. But I am justly punished. Don't bury me like a dog ; my articles and speeches in this book will show that I have deserved better. Since Saturday morning last I have lived on about 178 THREE BEACONS. li two pennyworth of bread with no other drink than water. I have never been in a bed^ seldom under a covering and then only some straw, and one night I lay in a pit-hut. " I have now been under some straw by a hay-stack near Morpeth last night and all day. God knows whether I shall ever be able to proceed any farther. I would like to have got to C to be buried there, that my poor wife, when she looks on my grave^ might forgive me and weep. " What a time of suffering it has been, but I trust it has been for my good. Speak kindly of me to my children. I am not able to walk, but I still have strength in the ordi- nary sense. " Friday afternoon. — Life is a torment. I have misspent it. No man ever had better opportunities or made worse use of them. Send word to F , say * the Cock of the Steeple' is dead. I forsook God and He has forsaken me. Let my wretched faie be a warning to all, especially that they may never (Jrink strong drink. Oh ! God, have mercy w THREE BEACONS. 179 Upon me, for the sake of Jesus. Five or six days and nights alone with conscience on the past life, O God, have a wonderful effect upon the mind. If I die now, I die not without hope. I believe, but with trembling. " One week my punishment has lasted. I still lie here, but very weak, and much pain- ed in the bowels. " Another day without food or drink. Cold. When will the trial be over ? " Oh ! I am weary, one part of my body appears to be dead, I cannot go for a drink now. Seventeen days' suffering, during that time had twice a piece of bread, twelve days without a morsel. " Death comes on. I wait, I meet him without fear, — Jesus is all. Oh 1 He has saved me, yet so as by fire, — these thirteen days. Oh ! bless Him for them ; to Him I commit my soul, my memory, my family, my all, Amen. " Alexander.*' This is certainly a dreadful end ! We can hardly suppose that any of cur readers caa I So THREE BEACONS. i I read the jottings in the journal without being affected. Here is a man of good talents and liberal education, who had often preached the Gospel to his fellow-men; and, had he re- mained true to his profession, there is no doubt but that he would have commanded important stations in the Church with which he was connected ; but before he had lived half the term of years allotted to man, he comes to a miserable end ! Does the reader ask how such a catastrophe occurred ? We reply in one word, drink. We warn our readers against this cruel, insidious foe. Mark you, we do not say that all who indulge themselves with the intoxicating draught will come to a similar end, but we do say empha- tically, that the path of those who partake of the dangerous fluid is beset with snares, and moral wrecks can be enumerated in great numbers as the victims of liquor. We are reminded that once in our ministry, there were two young clergymen, who resided not far from our place of residence, and when they preached at their respective churches, w THREE BEACONS, i8i ►f Lt n there were always crowded congregations. Other ministers could only command small auditories, when their eloquent young breth- ren were occupying churches a few miles away. One of the said young clergyman had been a " fast young man/' but having been reclaimed by means bf Temperance, and hav- ing given evidence that he was a changed man, he was taken into the Church, and in due time was recei ed as a minister on probation, but his old a^' jre again and again revived, and after xt^y^cX^d^ trials, he was dismissed. Another section of the Church gave him a trial, and for a time he seemed to do well. He was gaining strength, and the number of his friends was rapidly increasing, but he was again overcome by his former enemy, and one Sabbath, when he should have preached in a certain church, he was in a neighbouring tavern suffering the horrors of delirium tre- mens ^ having sold his horse and travelling equipments, and spent the proceeds in drink. His friends could no longer palliate his con- duct, and the last account we heard of him ii , , I M| i 'I^H' 1 ^^5 ^^B^B ■ ■ : jBNf ^IUk ! 182 THREE BEACONS. was, that he was in one of the cities in the State of New York, a poor outcast from respectable society ; and yet, this was a young man, the announcement of whose naaie would at one time have filled some of the spacious churches in Canada, and whc3e Temperance orations were the nearest to those of John B. Gough of any it has been our privilege to hear. The other young clergyman before men- tioned held on his way for several years, but, perhaps, did not attain to such eminence as he and' his friends at one time anticipated. We do not know how far this failure might be considered as one cause of his fall. It is, however, too true, that, in a Western town he was found in such a state as we cannot now describe, and not being able to endure the disgrace into which he had plunged himself, he migrated with his family across the line 45*=^, hoping that, among strangers he might recover his lost status ; but it became known as to why he had left Canada, and on this account no congregation seemed to be will- ing to take him on trial. His means were V, TBR^E BEACOMS, 185 soon exhausted ; he was visited with sick- ness ; and after a period of suffering, death ended his probationary state. Surely these incidents are admonitory ; but, alas ! they are only a small portion of what could be given. Let the reader be admonir,hed in time. Go not in the way of sinners ! Be not a companion of those whose ways are evil ! Do not use liquor in any form I Be not high-minded ! Even should you not obtain so much favour as you think should be your portion, do not on that ac- count brood over the matter as though an irreparable injury had been inflicted upon you, but rather let the apparent injury arouse you to increasing activity and devotedness to personal improvement, so that you m.ay be fitted for stations of greater usefulness, should you ever be called to occupy them. Above all things, let truth and righteousness charac terize you I Be men ! Avoid everything that has the slightest appearance of craft and cunning ! " In all thy ways acknow- ledge Him, and He will direct thy paths." CHAPTER XII. OLD Nanny brown. (( T HERE is a small hamlet in the West Riding of Yorkshire, where forty years ago there lived a venerable couple, at whose humble dwelling the writer was accus- tomed to spend one evening in the month, when it was his lot to be stationed in that locality. The circumstances of this worthy pair were very poor, as the husband was much crippled with rheumatism, and having always been a labouring man, whose wages at the best of times were small, they had not been able to lay up much earthly treasure. Old Nanny was accustomed to do chores for her neighbours, and by hard industry they managed to subsist from y to day. The largest room in their dwelling was the place in which religious services were regu- larly held, and we have often seen it crowded OLD NANNY BROWN, 185 the to its utmost capacity. The villagers were mostly farm-labourers, and as their houses were small, but few of them could accommo- date the itinerants as they went their rounds. The plan therefore usually followed was, for the minister to sup at one house, sleep where he preached, and take breakfast and dinner next day with other friends. To some of our readers this mode of proceeding may seem to be very peculiar, and doubtless there are those who would not like to act upon this plan in their respective circuits. Let us be thankful that times have so far improved, that there is no need to have recourse to such an itinerating process between meal- times. The plan, however, was very com- mon in the early days of Methodism in Eng- land, and while it was not a very pleasant method to pursue, there were some advan- tages connected with it, inasmuch as the minister thereby became better acquainted with his flock than he otherwise would have been. 'xhe venerable couple who lodged the M IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ,^ 4^\ J z z. 1.0 ii 1.25 uyj 12.5 gio "^^ Huh JA 1111116 <5^ ^ f V. ^% /i ^>. /A 'Y^^ ^ ''?- y «v \^ rO^ \\ ^ V^\ <^>. "^Z* % V >^ '% ^^4^ 9 % o V i86 OLD NANNY BROWN. weary itinerant had no family, and having a small spare room sufficiently large to contain a bed, a chair, and a table, they were glad to have the pleasure of his company for the night ; and in no instance during the whole of our itinerant career, were we ever made more comfortable, than when we lodged un- der the thatch-roofed cottage of Tommy and Nanny Brown. As soon as the congregation dispersed after preaching, an hour or two would be spent in social converse, and as Nanny was usually the most loquacious, the praicher would be regaled with all the transactions and occurrences of their life, until he would probably be compelled to ask the privilege of retiring to his place of rest. Old Nanny was possessed of a wonderful memory, and could remember the names and peculiarities of ail the praichers who had travelled the circuit, and many an incident, amusing and otherwise, would she relate respecting those who had lodged under her roof in days long gone by. She was strong in her attachments, OLD NANNY BROWN. 187 and by no means weak in her dislikes, and though generally she had a kind word to say of all the sons of John Wesley, whom she had known, there were a few, of whom she was not backward in expressing her dis- approval. To hear this poor woman tell of the first love-feast she attended, was something more than ordinarily amusing. We must premise that she could neither read nor write, and her husband could only with great difficulty read a little, and he always signed his name with a cross. We would often, purposely to gratify the old lady, get her to relate the account of her first love-feast experience. She would begin, and we would listen, and now and then interject a word by way of surprise or admiration, and so encourage her to proceed. It may be proper to state, that^ at the time alluded to, love-feasts were a great novelty, and the rules laid down for their regulation were strictly adhered to. All the members of the society presented their tickets at the * 1 88 OLD NANNY BROWN. door of entrance, and such as had not that token would be accommodated by applying to the minister, who would either be in the vestry, or in a neighbouring cottage, for the purpose of giving tokens to all worthy ap- plicants. A friend was very desirous that Nanny should go to the love-feast, and, un- known to her, he secured her a note of ad- mittance by which she entered. The little village church, usually called chapel, was crowded, as members of the so- ciety had come from neighbouring places in great numbers, so that it was evident even to a stranger, that a good time was expected. The minister took his place in the pulpit and announced the hymn, which is usually sung at love-feasts, beginning with- er Come, and let us sweetly join, Christ to praise in hymns divine. Give we all with one accord, Glory to our common Lord ! Hands and hearts and voices raise, ng as in the ancient days ; Antedate the joys above. Celebrate the feast of love." 1 1 OLD NANNY BROWN. 189 The hymn was sung with great spirit, and as prayer was offered, many in the congrega- tion responded audibly again and again, for it must be remembered that in those days, many of the people called Methodists were not so refined, but that they could shout aloud and respond with a hearty " Amen,*' when they thought proper to do so. The place was soon such a scene of earnest de- votion and religious fervour, that poor Nanny did not know what to make of it. She had never seen nor felt the like before. Having been accustomed from her youth to attend the Established Church, the services of which consisted of a regular routine without the least change or variation from Sabbath to Sabbath, she was greatly bewildered, by rea- son of the fervour which was being mani- fested by many around her. Just now, the bread and water were taken round. This perplexed her more than ever, and as the steward held the bread before her she refused to touch a morsel, as she thought there might be some kind of sanctity about 190 OLD NANNY BROWN it which she did not understand, and being afraid of the consequences which might fol- low, she shook her head, to signify that she would not partake. The steward said, " Tak' a bit.'* " Aw wint," said Nanny. He then took a piece and gave it to her, but she still refused to touch it, but carefully wrapped it up in her pocket-handkerchief. The speaking began, and she felt confu- sion worse confounded. Such talk she never heard in all her life before ; she was perfectly amazed, and could neither make end nor side of it. At length, however, a certain female, whom Nanny knew as Bet Dickens, related her experience, in which she said : " Aw bless God for what He's dun'e for me ; yance aw was blin'd, but now aw see." " That's a lee, howivver," said Nanny, " for aw've ken!d thou since thou .were a lass, and thou nivver was blin'd in a' thy life." Next, a tall man arose, and said he could say with his sister, ** Aw bless God for what He's dun'e for me ; yance aw was blind, but now aw see." On hearing this testimony, Nanny OLD NANNY BROWN 191 said to herself, " Why, canny man, ye may ha' be'an blind for ought aw 'naw, for aw dinna ken ye ; but howsomivver ye are not Bet Dickens* brother, for awVe 'nawn Bet Dickens iver sin* she war a lass, and she niv- ver had a brother ; so yeVe teld yah lee anyhow. AwVe often heerd it sed, that Me- thodies wint swear nor steal, but they'll lee, and now awVe pniv'd it.'* The meeting progressed, and as the speak- ing continued, several used the same phra- seology which had so perplexed poor old Nanny, " Aw bless God for what He's dun'e for me ; yance aw was blin'd, but now aw see,*' seemed to be common* stock language, as it was more or less used by all. Poor Nanny thought to herself, what a strange lot of people, " why're, they've all been blin'd ;" and then she thought again, " why're it's impossible that all these here people can a'been blin'd; they must ha bele'an, aw'll stop nea' langer, that aw wint," and so saying, she got up and left. As she went on her way home, a friend s 192 OLD NANNY BROWN met her, and said " Holloa, Nanny, hae ye been at the Methody love-feast ? *' ** Aye that aw hev," said she, " and awll gang nea' mare that aw wint." '* Why're, what's mat ter, Nanny, what's matter ? '* ** Matter, mat- ter, d'ye say, matter eneugh, marry. Why're there's Bet Dickens had impittance to stand up afore me and say, * Aw bless God for what He's dun'e for me; yance aw was blin'd but now aw see,' and ye' hev ken'd Bet Dickens iver sin she was a lass, and ye 'naw as weel as awde that she never was blind ; and then there was a greet lang lankering joan of a fellow, he got up and said, * aw bless God aw can say wi ray sister, bless God for what He's dune for me ; yance aw was blin'd but now aw see :' now,*' she continued, " ye 'naw that's a lee, for ye 'naw that Bet Dickens niver had a brother i' a' her life; and lots o' them just talked i' the same way. Aw never saw sick a lot o' folks fhat says they've been blind i' a' my life, but aw believe they're le'an, but aw'U gang nae mair tha t aw wint." Thus she went on and told every one nearly OLD NANNY BROWN, 193 the same story, always concluding with, "aw'U gang nae mair, that aw wint" Poor Nanny kept her word, she went no more to a Methody love-feast. The only visit she had made to such an agapee served her to converse about for many years. Seve- ral years rolled away, and one day some young men from a neighbouring city, accom- panied by several companions from other places, entered the village where Nanny and her husband resided. They sang as they walked along the street a lively tune to the well-known hymn commencing with — " Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, Weak and wounded, sick and sore ; Jesus ready stands to save you, Full of pity, love, and power." The street choristers sang the whole hymn with great power, but more especially the chorus. *' Turn to the Lord and seek salvation, Sound the praise of His dear name ; Glory, honour, and salvation, Christ the Lord is come to reign." 194 OLD NANN Y BROWN, All the denizens of the place turned out to see the occasion of this wonderful phenome- non. The strangers stopped occasionally, and announced that they were about to hold religious service at the other end of the vil- lage. On their arrival at the appointed place there was a crowd of people collected to whom one of the young men proclaimed the way of salvation in a most earnest manner, and as there was considerable novelty about the whole service, most of the audience seemed to be much interested, and at the close an announcement was made for a simi- lar service to be held there two weeks hence. Several subsequent visits similar to the one just narrated were made, and as the winter season approached it was necessary that, if the young evangelists should continue their visits, some of the inhabitants must open their houses for worship. Nanny Brown and her husband had attended several of the open- air services, and were both pleased and profited by what they had heard, and after consulting together, they agreed to open OLD NANN y BROWN, I9S their domicile for the zealous young men to hold forth the word of life. In due tirfie a class was organized, and Nanny and her husband gave in their names as mem- bers, for though they were not yet con- verted, they were desirous to flee from the wrath to come and be saved from their sins. By-and-by the happy change was effected, and they both knew on earth their sins for- given, and poor Nanny no longer wondered at the strange manner in which the people spoke at the Methody love-feast. At the time we were accustomed to lodge at the humble dwelling of these devoted Christian people they were somewhat stricken in years, but they were always happy. They never murmured at their lot, nor complained that they had so many hardships to endure. They were simple-hearted, true, devoted fol- lowers of Christ, and though they had but little of this world's goods they would always endeavour to pay their class-money, a penny a week and at least six-pence each for ticket- money, and when we would intimate that it 196 OLD NANNY BROWN was hardly right that they should do this, they would always insist that it was but little to what they would like to give. Blessed old couple, they held on the*^ way a few years longer, when first the hu.oand and then after a little the wife, were taken to their long home, where poverty is unknown and afflictions can never come. Who would not be grateful for Christianity, which can make Jhe abodes of the poor such homes of comfort, and can give those who can sing literally and truly — '* No foot of land do I possess," a blooming prospect of glory, honour, im- mortality and eternal life ? The religion of Jesus Christ shows its adaptedness to the wants and exigencies of the race by making those who are often in perplexity to rejoice, because that in heaven they have a more en- during substance. Such converts as those now portrayed should encourage all who are labouring in evangelistic services ; for surely, when the Old nanny brown 197 In e Gospel can reach the hearts of such as they were, why should any despair ? " ** None need perish." " All may live, for Christ hath died." And if one class of agents fail to reach those who are sitting in darkness and in the region of the shadow of death, let us rejoice that other agencies are honoured of God in rescuing them from the gloom of sin and bringing honour to the Master. There needs to be a great amount of personal effort used that all may know the Lord, and while it is God's ordained method to save men by the preaching of the everlasting Gospel, He may raise up various agencies for the same grand purpose ; and whenever these go forth and are used as auxiliaries to the agencies already employed we rejoice in their prosperity and wish them God-speed. The Church needs to employ all its mem- bers — no matter what kind of talents they may possess. There is work for all to do, and when all are willing to occupy such 198 OLD NANNY BROWN Spheres of usefulness as their respective talents fit them for, we expect to see acces- sions made daily to the Church of such as shall be saved. Brilliant talents are not re- quired in every instance by those who work for Christ — a sincere wish to be useful is the most important requisite. A word spoken in seasoi. may be as an arrow to wound the conscience. Once a number of young per- sons were making sport of something which they heard at the village chapel a short time before. A young man who was just then girding on the Christian armour heard the mocking words, and quietly said, " Young people, you must either turn or burn," and then took no further notice of their conver- sation. A few years rolled away and the said young man, who had now become a Minister of the Gospel, was again at the same place, and at the close of the service he was asked if he remembered saying to a number of young persons who were trying to be merry by mocking him, ** you must either OLD NANNY BROWN 199 turn or burn.'^ He did not remember the occasion, but thought he had very likely made use of such language. " Well," said the person who was addressing him, "if you do not remember I do, for I was one of the number, and the words * turn or burn,' were like an arrow in my heart, they produced such a wound as made me that I could not rest neither night nor day until I found rest in Jesus." There was a farmer driving his team from a Canadian city when something went wrong, and he swore, and beat the horses most un- mercifully. While he was belching forth his dreadful imprecations, a plain, unlettered Christian man went up to him and said, " My dear sir, please do not take the name of my heavenly Father so much in vain,'* and passed along, but the farmer was convicted of his wicked course, and from that moment began to amend his ways, and eventually he be- came a useful member of the Church, and has since died a happy death. 200 OLD NANNY BROWN, \ Here, then, are two instances, in both of which a kind word of reproof produced such an effect as led to conversion. Let our read- ers remember that he " who converteth a sin- ner from the error of his ways shall save a soul from death and shall hide a multitude of sins." THE END.