T HE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 S. II. JIADLF.Y'S LATEST PHOTO.
 
 S. H HADLEY 
 
 OF 
 
 WATER STREET 
 
 A MIRACLE OF GRACE 
 
 BY 
 J. WILBUR CHAPMAN, D.D. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED 
 
 NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO 
 
 Fleming H. Revell Company 
 
 LONDON AND EDINBURGH
 
 Copyright, 1906, by 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 
 New York : 158 Fifth Avenue 
 Chicago : 80 Wabash Avenue 
 Toronto : 25 Richmond St.,W. 
 London : 21 Paternoster Square 
 Edinburgh : 100 Princes Street
 
 SAMUEL HOPKINS HADLEY, FOR 
 NINETEEN YEARS AND EIGHT 
 MONTHS AND TEN DAYS THE 
 SUPERINTENDENT OF THE OLD 
 JERRY McAULEY WATER 
 STREET MISSION, SITUATED AT 
 316 WATER ST., NEW YORK CITY 
 
 BV 
 
 l I 
 
 H 
 
 1491064
 
 NEW YORK CITY, February 26, 1906. 
 REV. J. WILBUR CHAPMAN, D. D., 
 
 156 Fifth Avenue, New York City. 
 
 Dear Dr. Chapman It is the earnest desire of Mrs. S. 
 H. Hadley, and this desire is heartily seconded by the 
 Trustees of Water Street Mission, that you should write the 
 story of the life of our dearly beloved Superintendent and 
 friend, Rev. S. H. Hadley. Will you do this? We feel that 
 of all men you are the one whom our dear friend would 
 have suggested for this work. 
 Awaiting your reply, I am, 
 
 Cordially yours, 
 
 WALTER M. SMITH. 
 
 NEW YORK CITY, February 28, 1906. 
 
 MR. WALTER M. SMITH, 115 Worth Street, New York City. 
 My dear Mr. Smith I have received your kind letter and 
 beg to say that the request you make of me is indeed a high 
 honour. I accept the work as a great trust. I will do the 
 very best I can and at the earliest possible time I will see 
 that the manuscript is in the publisher's hands, only it is to 
 be understood that I am in no way personally to be profited 
 by the sale of the book, and so far as I am concerned all the 
 profit is to be devoted to Mrs. S. H. Hadley or to the 
 Mission, as the Trustees may direct. 
 Cordially yours, 
 
 J. WILBUR CHAPMAN.
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 No man, however gifted, can define the manner in 
 which the Holy Spirit transforms a dying drunkard 
 into a prince among mission workers. 
 
 Samuel Hopkins Hadley was so transformed; and, 
 though the process may elude us, the fact is before us. 
 It is before us in this book that tells the story of his 
 life. 
 
 Mr. Hadley, when he thought himself to be dying 
 of delirium tremens, was conscious of " a great and 
 mighty presence " ; and he never doubted for a single 
 moment that Jesus, the sinner's friend, had come in 
 person to save him. From that hour he was a saved 
 man ; and to the day of his death he bore constant and 
 faithful witness to the fact that Jesus, and Jesus only, 
 could save the lost. None that knew him ever ques- 
 tioned his love for the Lord Jesus or the sincerity 
 of his testimony. By that testimony multitudes of 
 Christians were strengthened in faith, and by it multi- 
 tudes of helpless, dying sinners were led to accept the 
 grace he proclaimed. 
 
 Water Street, the scene of his labours, was like a 
 land-locked harbour, into which there was a constant 
 drift of wrecked humanity. Here, night after night, 
 might be witnessed miracles as marvellous as those 
 wrought by the Lord Jesus during His sojourn upon 
 the earth. There is perhaps no place in the world 
 where more soul-thrilling stories of rescue have been 
 told. Christian workers from every part of the globe 
 have been drawn there to hear these marvellous testi- 
 
 7
 
 8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 monies, to rejoice, to weep, and to go forth with new 
 confidence in the power of God to save. 
 
 Chief among these witness-bearers was he of whom 
 these pages treat. I have heard him tell the story of 
 his conversion scores of times. It was always the 
 same, yet always new; always simple, heart-searching 
 and convincing; and always characterised by an in- 
 tense devotion to his Lord and Saviour. 
 
 The sending forth of the life-story of this remarkable 
 man of God will be of untold blessing to believers, and 
 will surely awaken the unconcerned to an apprehen- 
 sion of God's mercy in Christ. 
 
 No one better equipped than Dr. Chapman could 
 have been chosen to set forth the great character of 
 which this volume treats. None knew Mr. Hadley 
 more intimately ; none loved him more devotedly ; none 
 more deeply sympathised with him in his work; none 
 could see more clearly nor estimate more justly the 
 salient features of his life and character. 
 
 His book is a great and worthy tribute to one 
 whose devotion to the Lord Jesus Christ gave him a 
 conspicuous place among modern mission workers. 
 It is a witness also to the power of God among men. 
 
 No more enduring monument could be erected and 
 in no other way could the influence of a great life be 
 so effectively perpetuated. 
 
 In these pages Mr. Hadley still lives and still serves 
 his Redeemer in whose presence he now abides with 
 joy unspeakable and full of glory. 
 
 " God calls our loved ones, but we lose not wholly 
 
 What he has given : 
 
 They live on earth in thought and deed as truly 
 As in his heaven." 
 
 FORD C. OTTMAN. 
 STAMFORD, CONN.
 
 * PREFACE 
 
 To attempt to write the story of the life of S. H. 
 Hadley is an honour and a privilege which anyone 
 might covet. It is impossible for me to have read over 
 the story of his early life, the account of his con- 
 version, and then acquaint myself with the marvellous 
 way in which God used him, without realising that 
 the day of miracles is not passed. 
 
 A great Apostle of Unbelief once said, " Show me 
 a miracle which your God has worked and I will be- 
 lieve in Him." If that representative Of unbelief 
 were living to-day I should try to tell him the story 
 of the life and work of S. H. Hadley. It is as truly 
 a miracle as the turning of water into wine. He was 
 one of the dearest friends I ever had and one of the 
 noblest souls I ever came in contact with. He was as 
 genuine as the day was long, and when once he gave 
 himself fully to Christ he never swerved an inch from 
 the straight and narrow way. He was the most like 
 Christ of any man I have ever met. His patience with 
 the lost and erring was unexampled, his devotion to 
 his work was an inspiration to all who would make 
 their lives felt for the upbuilding of the cause of 
 Christ. He was truly a great man. Thousands of 
 people rise up to-day to call him blessed. I realise how 
 impossible it is to tell the story of his life on the 
 printed page, and yet I enter upon the task thanking 
 God that I am to be able in some slight way to send 
 his story on for the perusal of those who knew him 
 
 9
 
 10 PREFACE 
 
 and loved him, and for the inspiration of those who 
 knew him only slightly and possibly not at all except 
 as a public man, and the beloved Superintendent of 
 the old Water Street Mission. 
 
 One of the inspirations of Water Street has always 
 been to me, not simply the fact that it was like a great 
 lighthouse sending its cheering rays out over the 
 troubled sea of life and being used of God to lead 
 many a poor lost drunkard to the harbour of safety, 
 but that it was a work which commended itself to 
 some of New York's most distinguished citizens. Men 
 of large means, men of rare business ability, State 
 officials, distinguished ministers, all counted it a privi- 
 lege to be numbered among the trustees of the Water 
 Street Mission. When the funeral services at the 
 Mission were concluded, these busy New York men 
 made their way upstairs over the Mission and con- 
 sidered prayerfully the interests of the great work, and 
 then passed the following resolutions: 
 
 " The Trustees of the Old McAuley Water Street 
 Mission record the expression of their profound sor- 
 row at the death of the Rev. Samuel Hopkins Hadley, 
 who for nearly twenty years was the beloved and 
 loving Superintendent. 
 
 " He served the cause of Christ and helped the 
 wretched, the hopeless and the lost with his whole 
 heart and soul by day and night. He touched the 
 hearts and influenced the lives of all with whom he 
 came in contact, and was ever the welcome guest of 
 rich and poor alike. 
 
 " Not one did he ever pass by ' on the other side.' 
 He was a conspicuously successful Rescue Mission
 
 PREFACE 11 
 
 Worker. We, the Trustees of this Mission, bear testi- 
 mony to his faithful service and esteem it a sacred 
 privilege and honour to have been associated with 
 him." 
 
 The above resolutions were adopted by the Board 
 of Trustees at a meeting held on Monday morning, 
 February 12, 1906. 
 
 [Signed.] JOHN S. HUYLER, President, 
 
 R. FULTON CUTTING, Treasurer, 
 
 W. T. WARDWELL, 
 
 W. M. SMITH, 
 
 W. E. LOUGEE, 
 
 M. LINN BRUCE, 
 
 W. S. BOWNE, 
 
 A. N. RYERSON, 
 
 M. HARTLEY DODGE, 
 
 Rev. J. FREDERICK TALCOTT, 
 
 C. F. TIETJEN, 
 
 B. DE F. CURTIS, Secretary. 
 
 It is therefore a high honour to write the story of a 
 work, which not only has the seal of God's approval, 
 but the emphatic endorsement of these distinguished 
 men. 
 
 J. WILBUR CHAPMAN. 
 
 Acknowledgment is made to Mr. G. B. T. Davis for the use 
 of the stenographically reported funeral services embodied in 
 chapters sixteen and seventeen.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. 
 
 "UNCLE PHIL" 
 
 17 
 
 II. 
 
 His HOME LIFE 
 
 27 
 
 III. 
 
 Two BROTHERS 
 
 A1 
 
 IV. 
 
 His LIFE STORY 
 
 1j 
 
 55 
 
 V. 
 
 MEETING JESUS 
 
 64 
 
 VI. 
 
 A DARK PICTURE 
 
 72 
 
 VII. 
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING AND OUR LAST . . 
 
 81 
 
 VIII. 
 
 His LAST DAYS 
 
 86 
 
 IX. 
 
 LOVE 
 
 QT 
 
 X. 
 
 WATER STREET MISSION 
 
 VJ 
 
 1 02 
 
 XI. 
 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 
 
 in 
 
 XII. 
 
 AT NORTHFIELD AND WlNONA 
 
 1 * j 
 
 127 
 
 XIII. 
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 
 
 140 
 
 XIV. 
 
 As AN EDITOR 
 
 154 
 
 XV. 
 
 SOME PERSONAL TESTIMONIES 
 
 167 
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE FUNERAL SERVICES AT WATER STREET 
 
 
 MISSION 179 
 
 XVII. FUNERAL SERVICES AT JOHN STREET METH- 
 
 ODIST CHURCH 194 
 
 XVIII. NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 212 
 
 XIX. His MONUMENT 228 
 
 XX. His MONUMENT ( CONTINUED) 256 
 
 XXI. NEWSPAPER COMMENT 276 
 
 13
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 S. H. HADLEY' s LATEST PHOTO . . . TITLE 
 
 PHILIP McGuiRE, Old Phil. 17 
 
 MRS. S. H. HADLEY 36 
 
 S. H. HADLEY AT NINETEEN 48 
 
 MR. HADLEY'S SON, H. H. HADLEY ... 48 
 
 COL. H. H. HADLEY 5 2 
 
 INTERIOR OF WATER STREET MISSION . .102 
 MATTHEW J. GALLAGHER AND PROP. F. T. 
 
 FITZGERALD 106 
 
 S. H. HADLEY SPEAKING AT WINONA . . . 130 
 S. H. HADLEY AND CHARLES M. ALEXANDER 
 
 AT NORTHFIELD 136 
 
 TABLET OF S. H. HADLEY 192 
 
 HARRY E. PRENTICE AND CHARLES YATKS . 208 
 
 WILLIAM H. QUINN AND THOMAS FARMER . 236 
 
 MR. AND MRS. OTTO YOUNGS 246 
 
 E. C. MERCER AND JOHN H. WYBURN . . . 260 
 
 WILLIAM F. ELLIS AND WILLIAM BRUCB . . 264 
 
 WESLEY, Now HADLEY, HALL 286
 
 PHILIP McGUIRE.
 
 ~\ "IT T 
 
 W 
 
 T T 
 
 "UNCLE PHIL" 
 
 HO is the aged minister standing at the 
 
 I addressed these words one winter 
 evening to S. H. Hadley, the Superintendent of the 
 Water Street Mission at 316 Water street, New York 
 city, as I came up on the platform of the Mission Hall 
 and took my place by his side. 
 
 Mr. Hadley was occupying the chair which had 
 been especially dedicated to him for his use and I had 
 the privilege of being seated in an old arm chair which 
 had been occupied so many years by Jerry McAuley, 
 the Founder of the Mission and who was known in his 
 day as the " Apostle to the Outcast." 
 
 "Minister?" said Mr. Hadley, rising to his feet 
 and looking about as if he feared that some city pastor 
 or some visiting minister might have entered the Mis- 
 sion unobserved. " I do not see any minister here in 
 the audience." Then I rose and standing beside him 
 said, " I mean the grey-haired, benevolent-looking old 
 man who is just on the right of the door, who is now 
 speaking to the man in rags who has just entered the 
 Mission." 
 
 When I said this Mr. Hadley burst into a laugh. 
 " Why, man," said he, " that is not a minister, that's 
 old Phil," and then he said, " We all call him Uncle 
 Phil," and for more than two years afterwards I 
 
 17
 
 18 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 never knew his name as other than Uncle Phil, but I 
 came to know him later on and to love him devotedly. 
 
 I once called him Mr. McGuire and he really seemed 
 offended ; at another time I spoke of him as Mr. Philip 
 McGuire and he responded with little enthusiasm ; but 
 ever afterwards when I called him " Uncle Phil," his 
 eyes would shine and his face would glow, and when- 
 ever I entered the sacred place, Mr. Hadley himself 
 gave me no more affectionate greeting than this won- 
 derful man who had been rescued from so sinful a 
 life and who through all his Christian experience, to 
 strangers, to the outcast, to old men, and to little chil- 
 dren, so beautifully exemplified the spirit of the Mas- 
 ter who had saved him by His marvellous grace. 
 
 Philip McGuire was born in Ireland in 1831. He 
 was brought to New York city while a baby and grew 
 up in the old Fourth Ward. Before he was twelve 
 years of age he had been arrested three times for steal- 
 ing, and sent as many times to the House of Refuge. 
 Then he ran away from his home and spent the next 
 three years on board a whaling vessel that took him 
 around the globe. He was a born thief, and when he 
 returned from his sailing experience he kept up his 
 life of crime and in all served twenty years in dif- 
 ferent prisons. He was about as hopeless a case as 
 one could expect to find. 
 
 During his second term in Sing Sing he had his 
 place in chapel side by side with Jerry McAuley, the 
 river pirate, who later on started the Mission which 
 has ever since been known as the Jerry McAuley or 
 Water Street Mission. He sat by Jerry McAuley on 
 the day when the latter, after listening to a talk by 
 " Awful " Gardner, declared himself converted and
 
 "UNCLE PHIL" 19 
 
 determined to lead a new life ever afterwards. Gard- 
 ner was a noted character in New York. His name 
 was Orville, but he had always borne the nickname of 
 " Awful," and in the truest sense he lived up to his 
 name. When Jerry McAuley left Sing Sing and Mc- 
 Guire too had been discharged, Jerry brought him 
 down to the Mission. There McGuire tried his best 
 to follow the example set by his former fellow-prisoner, 
 but with small success. 
 
 One day when he was in charge of the Mission a 
 stranger entered and placed in his hands a large sum 
 of money, asking that he give it to Jerry when he re- 
 turned. What was he to do? He was a born thief. 
 This money burned in his hands. He was alone in 
 the Mission. He walked excitedly up and down the 
 room, debating in his mind whether he should steal 
 the money or not, and in the midst of it all Jerry Mc- 
 Auley entered. Phil rushed towards him saying, 
 " Jerry, for God's sake, take this money, for if you 
 don't, I will steal it." McAuley took the money, but 
 McGuire was so shaken by the experience that the 
 next day he stole about twelve dollars from the poor 
 box, which is just on the right of the door as you 
 enter the Mission. Jerry was relentless with a hypo- 
 crite, so he sent him back to Sing Sing and for seven- 
 teen years afterwards he lived a life of crime. 
 
 I can never forget hearing from Mr. Hadley's lips 
 the story of his return to Water Street. He said : 
 
 " Old Phil McGuire came into the Water Street 
 Mission one night, so drunk :hat he could scarcely 
 walk, an old thief sixty-three years of age at that time, 
 who had served over twenty years in different state 
 prisons for burglary. The last thing he did before
 
 20 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 coming into the Mission was to take off his last shirt 
 in the street and sell it for ten cents, with which he 
 bought two drinks of Fourth Ward whiskey. 
 
 " When we invited sinners to come up to our mercy 
 seat he was so drunk the aisle was not wide enough 
 for him to walk in. I helped the old bum down on his 
 knees at our altar service, and also helped him to take 
 his seat, but in that brief time of perhaps five minutes, 
 that mysterious, wonderful being, the Holy Spirit, 
 came into the heart of old Phil McGuire, and from 
 that moment he was another man. He never took a 
 drink, and never wanted a drink till the day of his 
 death," 
 
 Shortly after his conversion he gave the following 
 testimony, which was taken down by one who was 
 present: 
 
 " Cheer up, boys ! Down here we don't think any- 
 body kin git so low that the love of Jesus can't save 
 him. S?)', boys, I've got a clean shirt on now, I'm 
 clean shaven, an' what's more, I ain't had a drink fer 
 years an' don't want none. Just the same, it wasn't 
 so long ngo I was goin' around like you fellers, drunk 
 on stale beer an' anything else I could git hold of, 
 sleepin' in gutters an' thinkin' nothing could save me. 
 Before that I was even worse. I was a thief, a crook. 
 I did all the things the good Bible says we mustn't 
 do. I done time in Sing Sing an' other places, yet 
 here I am to-night a saved man, hauled right out of a 
 good sight worse fix than any of you boys are in. Did 
 I save myself? Did any drugs save me? No, boys; 
 it was the love of Christ. Nuthin' else can do it. All 
 the making up yer mind ter quit in the world don't 
 help a bit. Yer'll fall again, sure. Take Jesus in and
 
 "UNCLE PHIL" 21 
 
 you're saved. He kin save you, boys, a sight easier 
 than he saved me, an' he's made a good job of it with 
 me, too. 
 
 " God bless yer, boys, an' God bless Jerry McAuley, 
 he that started this Mission. They say I'm the only 
 man alive that was in Sing Sing with Jerry. I met 
 him there an' we knew each other well. I was a bad 
 man, but a heap sight worse man was Jerry McAuley. 
 I didn't take no stock in Jerry's conversion in Sing 
 Sing, but it was the beginning of his great life for 
 God. 
 
 " Boys, I came out of Sing Sing not long after 
 Jerry had been pardoned. I was hungry and cold an' 
 I had the hankerin' for a drink, that they'd tried to 
 crush out of me in prison. I hadn't a cent, though, 
 and as I was walking up the Bowery I met Jerry. 
 
 " ' What's yer lay, Jerry ? ' I asked. 
 
 " He laid his hand on my shoulder, looked me in 
 the eyes, an' said, ' Phil, I ain't on any lay but the 
 work of Jesus Christ. Come around an' see me, Phil.' 
 
 " I went around to see Jerry an' his Mission here, 
 and he talked to me, fed me, clothed me, and sent me 
 away thinking. Boys, the change didn't come right 
 away. It took time for me to see that nothing but the 
 love of Jesus would save me. I got drunk again and 
 again after my meeting with Jerry, but every time I 
 turned up here on Water Street I found Jerry's hand 
 out to me. Well, boys, the Lord came into me one 
 night to stay, an' with him coming in every desire for 
 the old life went out. Oh, boys ! if yer could only 
 know it know what it means yer'd grab it so 
 quick ! " 
 
 It is the custom in Water Street if one has stood a
 
 22 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 year for Christ and been consistent to observe his an- 
 niversary. The convert reads the Scripture, offers 
 prayer, and tells of the Saviour's keeping power 
 through the year that is passed. 
 
 The following is in substance the testimony of Phil 
 McGuire as he gave it on the night of the fifth anni- 
 versary of his conversion, November 23, 1897. Com- 
 pare these two testimonies and you will see the 
 evidence of his spiritual growth. 
 
 After reading the 3Oth Psalm, he said : " I was al- 
 ways bad. I wouldn't stay home. I would run away. 
 I was a natural thief. Before I was twelve years old 
 I had been arrested three times. Then my father sent 
 me to sea to get rid of me. After that I was worse 
 and worse, arrested many times and while I was serv- 
 ing my second term in Sing Sing State Prison I got 
 acquainted with Jerry McAuley. 
 
 " When I left prison I had work for a time, then 
 through drink I lost that and was in hard luck when, 
 one day on Fourth Avenue, I met Jerry and asked him 
 if he could get me a job. He told me to come down 
 to the Mission. I didn't know what a mission was, but 
 I came and heard the man I knew had been a thief tell 
 what Jesus could do and how he had made him honest 
 and sober. That night I went forward for prayers 
 and believe I was saved, but later on I left the mission 
 and after a time went back again. One day I robbed 
 the mission cash-collection box and then Jerry had me 
 sent to prison. 
 
 " Seventeen years after I first came here I re- 
 turned. For days I was trying to ' sober-up ' to come 
 here, but I couldn't get sober. The appetite was so 
 strong. So I came in drunk, and staggered to the
 
 "UNCLE PHIL" 23 
 
 altar. But I was saved that night and the Lord has 
 kept me ever since. The next day Mr. Hadley gave 
 me twenty-five cents. Twelve cents of this I paid to 
 get my shirt out of pawn and I've never been broke 
 since. I ain't afraid of officers now. When I meet a 
 policeman now he bows to me." 
 
 On another occasion Uncle Phil testified : " When 
 I served the devil I was never satisfied. I worked ten 
 years for fifteen dollars a week, and when I was laid 
 off I hadn't money enough to keep me one week. But 
 since I've been serving the Lord I'm always satisfied. 
 Since I began to serve the Lord I was working for 
 'most three years for five dollars a week and when I 
 got laid off I had money enough to keep me four 
 months and some to spare." 
 
 He was perfectly devoted to his Superintendent. 
 One summer when the financial burdens of the Mis- 
 sion were heavier than ever and the demands upon 
 the treasury greater than they had previously been, 
 Mr. Hadley decided to give up his vacation; he de- 
 termined that he would not even go to Northfield or 
 Winona to attend the Bible Conferences. Uncle Phil 
 found it out; one evening he met him in the Mission 
 and when no one was around he slipped fifty dollars 
 which he had saved, into his hand and said, " Here, 
 take this, go to Winona, don't say anything about it; 
 God bless you," and the old man began to sob. Mr. 
 Hadley came directly to my home and said, " I don't 
 think I was ever more moved in my life than by the 
 devotion of this old man." 
 
 In his description of him his Superintendent wrote 
 as follows: 
 
 " He was our janitor, lived in our home, ate at our
 
 24 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 table, and was loved by us, as a dear member of our 
 own family, faithful as the sun, honest in the least 
 particular as well as the greatest, and I would trust 
 him with uncounted money. Never have I known 
 one penny in the thousands of dollars he handled to 
 go astray." 
 
 His death was a remarkable one. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hadley were away from the Mission one evening, but 
 when the services were all over the Assistant Super- 
 intendent bade dear old Phil good-night and went 
 upstairs to retire, leaving him to attend to the wants 
 of the needy ones and close up the place. 
 
 Suddenly one of the boys ran hurriedly upstairs and 
 said, " Old Phil is dying." The Superintendent has- 
 tened down into the Mission Chapel and found one of 
 the boys holding him on a seat. They prepared to 
 carry him upstairs to his room when he shook his 
 head. Those who stood about him noticed he was 
 restless and with great effort moving his hands, at last 
 they saw that he was trying to get his hands into his 
 vest pockets. 
 
 Mr. Hadley had written a book giving an account 
 of his experiences in Water Street. It was entitled, 
 " Down in Water Street," and was sold for one dol- 
 lar. When strangers visiting the points of interest in 
 New York came to the Mission, the old janitor would 
 frequently sell a copy of this notable book. 
 
 His poor fingers were fast stiffening in death, but 
 when those about him realised that he would not be 
 satisfied until he reached his pockets they assisted him. 
 Taking out a dollar bill from one pocket and with 
 almost superhuman effort a like sum of money from 
 another pocket, he stretched forth both his hands and
 
 "UNCLE PHIL" 25 
 
 said, " Books," and was gone. The last act of his 
 life was an honest one. He had been saved by the 
 grace of God. The illustration is an inspiration. 
 What God could do for Phil McGuire He can do for 
 lost and wandering men throughout the world. 
 
 In writing about his funeral Mr. Hadley said : 
 
 " His funeral was a notable event. It occurred on 
 the i8th day of last January. People came for miles 
 to the funeral of the ex-thief Phil McGuire. Re- 
 porters from all the great dailies of the city were 
 present. The house was crowded, and I had to close 
 the doors, for more people came than could get in, 
 millionaires and bums, merchants and thieves, beauti- 
 ful women and harlots. Oh, what a collection you 
 can get into a rescue mission ! All came to the funeral 
 of the old ex-thief and drunkard Phil McGuire. Why 
 did all these people come on a cold winter night to 
 such an out-of-the-way place as the Old McAuley 
 Mission ? " Because dear old Phil had bound them 
 to him with ties of love that could not be broken. 
 
 Before Mr. Hadley went downstairs to attend the 
 funeral service of his old friend he was asked if he 
 did not wish to write something concerning him. He 
 picked up a piece of Water Street stationery and wrote 
 the stanza reproduced on the following page. 
 
 If you will multiply many times this story of the 
 genuine conversion of a poor lost man, you will have 
 the life story of S. H. Hadley, the man who during 
 his Christian life possibly led more drunkards to 
 Christ than any other man of his generation. His 
 companions in rescue work certainly agree that of all 
 the rescue mission workers of his day he was easily 
 the greatest, yet he was as humble as a child.
 
 The Old AVcAuIcy Water Street Mission 
 
 31 B WATER STREET, NEW VORH 
 
 TRUSTEE* 
 
 MO. HVTICII, mutmn 
 
 oc r eunrra*. SICHIT.BT w BOWHC. 
 
 . rviTON CUTTING. Tium e TICTJIH. 
 
 n T WMDWCI.L. COL. f- HCTCMUW. 
 
 WAtTIK (MITM. N. HAOtTT. lUtRlllTtltBt '! 
 
 *. t teuou. * 
 
 TtUPHONL 403JOH 
 
 a2 
 
 OfA k 
 
 M 
 
 
 II 
 
 U/l tl ^^7 A 
 
 MR HADLEY s AUTOGRAPH MEMORANDUM OF STANZA QUOTED 
 
 BY KIM AT THE FUNERAL OF PHIL McGUlRE.
 
 II 
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 
 
 THERE are those who have felt that they 
 have known S. H. Hadley at his best when 
 they have seen him in Water Street, leading 
 poor lost drunkards, such as he had been in other 
 days, to Christ. There are others who have thought 
 that he was strongest when he was leading a con- 
 ference of ministers, for he was bright and witty and 
 always seemed to say the right thing in the right way. 
 There are still others who have suggested that he was 
 at his best when he was met in a social way, but I have 
 no hesitation in saying, that from all I have seen, 
 heard, and read, he really never revealed himself to a 
 better advantage than when he was in his home with 
 his loved ones about him, with a few of his friends of 
 the Mission near him, and best of all, with the very 
 atmosphere of heaven pervading the entire household. 
 The story of his home life would take us back to the 
 days when he was a boy in the home, where privation 
 and suffering sometimes were necessary, but where 
 love always was supreme. The members of the Had- 
 ley household were devoted to each other, and their 
 devotion seemed to grow with the passing years. 
 There came to me recently a letter from his sister, in 
 which she said : " One thing noticed by all who knew 
 him in his childhood days was his tender heart. He 
 could not see anything hurt or witness its suffering 
 
 27
 
 28 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 without pain. If a fowl was to be prepared for din- 
 ner, he could not see it killed. He would run and 
 hide his head in his mother's lap, so that he could not 
 hear the report of the gun. As he grew older and 
 more brave this tenderness never left him. His 
 mother was his idol, and never could he say an unkind 
 word to her. When he was about twenty-five years 
 old he attended a revival meeting at Trimble, Athens 
 County, Ohio. He became very much interested, and 
 with two of his companions confessed Christ and was 
 baptized in the waters of Sunday Creek. He united 
 with the church near my home where the town of 
 Glouster is now situated. He became an active 
 member of the meeting and his presence in prayer and 
 song was a blessing to all. But one day unexpectedly 
 and in an angry moment he swore. Then he thought 
 that all was over and he could be a Christian no 
 longer, so he gave it all up. People wondered what 
 had caused such a sudden change in his life and he 
 himself did not tell it for years. This is one reason 
 I am sure, why he could not give up anyone who ever 
 made a start in the Christian life. He was a darling 
 brother, and the best example of Christ I have ever 
 known." 
 
 Not a very great while ago there came into my 
 possession a copy of Lucy Hadley's journal. She was 
 a sister of S. H. Hadley. She was born August 23, 
 1836, and died November 3, 1879. What she has 
 written has to do with the real home life of S. H. 
 Hadley. 
 
 " February 12, 1853. 
 
 " My father has lately joined the Presbyterian 
 church, and on the 2Oth of December, 1852, for the
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 29 
 
 first time in his life erected the family altar in his own 
 house ; and commenced asking a blessing at the table. 
 It was a melting time among us that Monday morning. 
 I know I shall never forget it. We sang before 
 prayers this verse: 
 
 ' ' Let not despair as fell revenge 
 Be to my bosom known 
 But give me tears for others woes 
 And patience for my own/ 
 
 " We sing during family worship every morn and 
 eve, and many sweet sessions have we had together. 
 Mother always prayed with us children every day until 
 father erected the family altar. Oh, I am not half 
 thankful enough for this great blessing." 
 
 " February 27, 1853. 
 
 " To-day I had the pleasure of seeing my dear 
 brother Henry unite with the Methodist church at 
 Young's Chapel." 
 
 "January I, 1854. 
 
 " Last Sabbath was Christmas. We had a very 
 good meeting and I had the pleasure of seeing my 
 youngest brother Hopkins unite with the church at 
 Young's Chapel. May the Lord enable him to be 
 faithful." 
 
 "January 16, 1854. 
 
 " My longing desire of soul is that my little brothers 
 should become Christians. But the Lord will make 
 them Christians. I feel it; I know it. I feel as sure 
 of it now as if I saw it before my eyes, for the Lord
 
 30 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 has promised and He will perform. Glory be to God 
 for this blessed assurance. My soul is full of love." 
 
 " February 25, 1854. 
 
 " We have just closed a protracted meeting at 
 Young's Chapel of nearly a week's duration. It has 
 been a very precious time to many souls. The mem- 
 bers have been greatly roused up. There have been 
 two conversions and five accessions to the church. It 
 is the first time I ever saw a soul converted in our 
 meeting house. But I have not yet obtained the long- 
 ing desire of my heart. I have not yet seen my dear 
 little brothers converted. Oh, why is it?" 
 
 " March 5, 1854. 
 
 " I have great reason to serve and love the Lord 
 for what He has done for me. This morning during 
 family prayer my dear little brother Hopkins obtained 
 the witness that he is a Christian. He felt his sins 
 forgiven, and was enabled to rejoice in the Lord. Oh, 
 how should my soul swell with gratitude and love to 
 God, when I see how He is answering my prayers ! " 
 
 "March 11, 1855. 
 
 (When this was written Lucy Hadley was at " Put- 
 nam Female Seminary," Zanesville, O., where she 
 spent about two years, the only schooling she had ex- 
 cept the good instruction given her by her brother.) 
 
 " Little did I know when I last wrote how soon my 
 faith would be tried. I received a letter from mother 
 last week telling me that our entire dwelling and 
 nearly all it contained, nearly all our provisions, the
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 31 
 
 barn, and feed for the cattle, had been burned to 
 ashes. Mother is bearing it with true Christian forti- 
 tude. Oh, what a blessing to have such a mother! 
 Our friends have been gathering together some clothes 
 to send home. I am going to send all that I can spare 
 of mine." 
 
 The one to whom I am indebted for this journal 
 adds this word : 
 
 " I remember my mother telling me after this the 
 Hadley family moved into an old log house on the 
 farm. It had been used as a sheep pen for a while. 
 It was fixed up, and when my father saw it a few 
 years later there was the one living room of log down- 
 stairs, two unfinished rooms upstairs, a shed kitchen, 
 and a frame room, sometimes used as a parlour, was 
 built on. This was the Hadley home until the parents 
 died and the family scattered a great change from 
 the pretty country home near Malta." 
 
 "June 22, 1856. 
 
 " My dear and only sister Hannah was with me at 
 school last winter. With pleasure I watched her im- 
 provement, and rejoiced that she was loved by others ; 
 for I would rather she would be loved than to be 
 loved myself. Her health was poor so that she could 
 not study very hard, but she improved very much in 
 gentleness, firmness and loveliness of character." 
 
 " January, 1856. 
 " Oh, I have one of the best of mothers and such a
 
 32 S. H. HADLEY OP WATER STREET 
 
 kind good father, too. He is such a good nurse and 
 was so faithful to me during my sickness. Besides, 
 I have such a lovely sister and two dear brothers." 
 
 " December 20, 1857. 
 
 " About six weeks ago my youngest brother Hop- 
 kins cut his right knee very badly with an axe. For 
 about five weeks he has lain in one position without 
 being able to move but very little; and has suffered 
 beyond description. I was only with him Thanks- 
 giving Day. He has been dangerously ill some of 
 the time, but we hope he is better now. We are not 
 sure that Hopkins is a Christian and our souls have 
 been burdened with this. Oh, that God would in mercy 
 hear and answer our prayers. I cannot but believe 
 He will. I am going home next Thursday and I ex- 
 pect to see my dear and only sister Hannah married 
 before I return. I am to be her bridesmaid." 
 
 When Uncle Hopkins cut his knee a company of 
 young people were on their way to the wedding of 
 Amanda Fowler and Joel Allen (still living in Glous- 
 ter, O., old and broken). 
 
 Other young people, not invited, for fun put 
 branches of trees across the road to hinder the wed- 
 ding party. Uncle Hopkins, still quite young, had 
 no girl with him, so he had to lift the branches out of 
 the way. They came to one big log which he could 
 not lift, and in trying to chop it away, the axe slipped 
 and his knee was cut, even the bone itself being cut. 
 It was sewed up by the country physician, and he was 
 allowed to hobble around on it for a day or so, then 
 when the stitches pulled out, and it was greatly in- 
 flamed, the doctor ordered him to bed. Toward the
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 33 
 
 last they called Dr. Hufford, whom he had faith in 
 and wanted. He was a wicked man and grandparents 
 did not want him on that account, but a well-read phy- 
 sician. He lay with his knee bent so it could never 
 be straightened. 
 
 " May 27, 1860. 
 
 " From my earliest religious life, I have felt this 
 deep love for ministers and missionaries, and oh, the 
 yearning of my soul is to spend my whole life in the 
 cause of the Lord." 
 
 After a summer's vacation at home she writes: 
 
 " It was so hard for me to leave the dear ones at 
 home. I know I am missed now more than I ever 
 was. Brother Henry and I became more truly ac- 
 quainted with each other, and we had each other's 
 confidence more fully than ever before. He misses 
 me so much, and mother, dear mother, misses me more 
 than all the rest. She leaned her head on my breast 
 and wept like a child when we parted. I felt as though 
 I could never leave her; but go, I must, and with a 
 great effort I tore myself away from those dear ones. 
 Oh, they all miss me. Father, oh, he seemed to love 
 me more this time than he ever had, and he was al- 
 ways such a kind father. And Hopkins was the same 
 dear brother." 
 
 " August 23, 1862. 
 
 " My brother Henry felt it his duty to go (to war), 
 and he is now in Circleville. The house seemed so 
 lonesome, just as though there had been a funeral 
 in it."
 
 34. S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " February I, 1863. 
 
 " I have been appointed superintendent of the Sab- 
 bath school here (Young's Chapel). I feel the re- 
 sponsibility to be great, but God gives me strength 
 to bear the burden. Oh, that Hopkins were a better 
 boy. He is the greatest sorrow I have. Lord, save 
 him." 
 
 "Feby. 19, 1863. 
 
 " On the l/th of February Brother Henry camt 
 home from the army. He was the most pitiable look- 
 ing object I ever saw, reduced by disease to a mere 
 skeleton, with an abscess on his right ankle, not able to 
 walk one step, with scarce strength enough to keep 
 life in his body." 
 
 (Henry's father helped to nurse him, but he took 
 sick with a severe attack of lung fever, from which 
 he died March 9, 1863, a little over six months after 
 the death of his wife. Harry and Hopkins were both 
 sick; but Hopkins was able to stand with his sisters 
 beside his bed when he died. William Hadley and 
 Jane Riddell Hadley are buried in Young's Chapel 
 graveyard. Neither of the boys, Henry or Hopkins, 
 could ever go to the cemetery after their father's 
 funeral. Hopkins was very sick the night after the 
 funeral and for several weeks with typhoid lung 
 fever.) " We feared for his life; but God spared him 
 to us." 
 
 When S. H. Hadley went to live with his brother, 
 the Colonel, although he was by no means the master 
 of himself as regards his appetite for strong drink, 
 yet he was the same loving and lovable brother. I 
 am told they had a common purse in the family
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 85 
 
 that whichever brother was at home felt himself, so 
 long as he had a penny, under obligation to pay the 
 bills of the other. Mrs. Colonel Hadley, in writing 
 to me since his death, said : " He was the dearest 
 brother that ever lived, always thoughtful of us, 
 always bright and cheery ; even in the dark days of 
 his awful sin he could not but be loving and kind 
 to us. When he was converted, he just as naturally 
 turned to the home of his brother, as the needle turns 
 to the pole star. It was from his brother's window 
 that he looked forth the first day of his Christian life 
 when he said : ' The birds seem to sing differently, 
 the foliage is different, the street cars seem to me like 
 chariots, and men and women as they pass along the 
 streets seem to have their voices keyed to sweet 
 music.' " 
 
 He has ever counted it a pleasure and a privilege 
 to turn away from his busy New York life and go 
 back again to his old Ohio home, where he might have 
 fellowship with his sisters. As a rule, for the past 
 ten years, he has gone each summer from my own 
 home to Ohio, and when the day of his departure for 
 his visit with his sisters would come, he would be as 
 eager as a child to see them. But S. H. Hadley was 
 really at his best in his own home, so dear to him, in 
 rooms over the old Mission at 316 Water Street. He 
 had tried living elsewhere, and with his great ancestry 
 back of him, and enjoying beautiful things as he did, 
 it would have been perfectly natural for him to have 
 delighted in a home in a different part of the city, but 
 the experiment was never a success, and he turned 
 back again to the old Mission. He used to say to his 
 friends : " I wish you would come and see me in my
 
 36 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 home it's perfectly beautiful " and it was. The 
 carpets were not so fine, the pictures, to one who did 
 not know their history, were exceedingly common, the 
 furnishings plain in the extreme, but as you mounted 
 the stairs to his room, every step seemed to bring you 
 nearer heaven, and as you entered the living-room it 
 seemed always as if you were stepping into the pres- 
 ence of God, while to go into his little workroom, or 
 "office," as he called it, was to those who knew him 
 and loved him like entering into the sacred precincts 
 of the Holy of Holies. S. H. Hadley was a man of 
 God, he walked and talked with God, and no one ever 
 came into touch with his great life who did not 
 come away with a benediction. His home was as free 
 as the air to all his friends. " There is always a place 
 for you at my table," he would say, " and if you will 
 let me know when you are coming, I will put your 
 name in the pot, but whether you send me word or 
 not, just come, and you will make me very happy." 
 His clever and devoted wife presided over his table 
 like a queen. It would have been perfectly natural 
 for her to have felt many times that in giving up her 
 noble husband to a work which was so full of trial 
 at times and in constant association with those who 
 had come to the end of all their resources, she was 
 making more of a sacrifice than the world had a right 
 to expect of her, but she did not complain. Many 
 a poor lost man found his way to Christ under her 
 guidance and many a convert of the Water Street 
 Mission declares that it was Mrs. Hadley 's gentle 
 words of counsel that turned his thoughts back again 
 to his mother and was the means of his conversion. 
 This chapter would not be complete without a mes-
 
 MRS. S. H. HADLEY.
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 37 
 
 sage from Mrs. Hadley herself. At my earnest solici- 
 tation she has written as follows : 
 
 " In the twenty-four years of my husband's con- 
 version I have had some experiences myself. I was 
 in Washington at the time of his conversion. Had 
 gone to Baltimore for the wedding of a favourite niece 
 of mine. And from there to Washington to see my 
 precious mother, then over eighty years old. 
 
 " Well, one morning, I think it was Monday, I re- 
 ceived a letter telling me the joyful news that he had 
 found the Saviour. I was stopping with a very dear 
 friend at the time. I went into the parlour and closed 
 the door and read my letter. I was surprised, I 
 walked the floor, I shouted, I cried, I prayed, I 
 laughed, and dear Aunt Lue came down and said, 
 ' What is the matter with my girlie.' I exclaimed, 
 ' Oh, Aunt Lue, Mr. Hadley says he is converted, do 
 you believe it ? ' She had her arms around me and 
 we looked each other in the eyes. She said, ' He says 
 so, does he not, Mittie ? ' I said, ' Yes.' ' Well, so do 
 I,' she said. I loved her before, but I think I loved 
 her ten times as much afterwards. True friend. Well, 
 I do not think there was ever a man watched so closely 
 as he was. He made a good confession from the 
 start. 
 
 " I found after my return to New York in going to 
 the Mission every night, I became deeply interested 
 in the work. It was an entirely new thing to me. 
 Though I had been a Christian for years, we knew 
 nothing at all about Mission work as it was done in a 
 Rescue Mission, where all sorts, all classes, and all 
 conditions came in. It was a revelation to me, and 
 then Jerry was a revelation. I can see him before my
 
 38 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 mind's eye at this time raising his hand and saying, 
 ' Who will come to Christ to-night ? ' Well, my hus- 
 band was not a lazy Christian, but a working one. 
 How I praise God for that; he always had a burden 
 for souls. How well I remember when we went to 
 housekeeping in three rooms, he would bring poor 
 fellows to our humble home and take out his last 
 shirt, socks, and collar and tie, and dress the man up 
 and take him to the Home in Eighty-sixth Street for 
 intemperate men and I would gather up the debris on 
 a shovel and throw it into the fire. How many times 
 I have done that I could not tell ; it seemed to me he 
 was all the time investing in shirts, collars, and ties, 
 but it was all right; and then his first lodging house. 
 We had four rooms there, and we wanted a room 
 for the Lord. We had one good chamber and I gave 
 it up for anyone he would bring in with delirium tre- 
 mens. I put my bed in my sitting-room and we would 
 have our meals there and entertain all our, or his, com- 
 pany there. We had a very humble home, but a very 
 happy home, because God was there and Love was 
 there. I could not tell how many cases he nursed 
 through the dreadful sickness, but some were nursed 
 through three times, and then, when they were well, 
 he would bring them in to my table, that would be the 
 only time I would see them. The door had been taken 
 off and it had been boarded up, so there came a time 
 when I thought I might have the room. Well, I asked 
 the Lord about it ; told him if there were not any more 
 cases in so many weeks I would take it as an answer 
 to prayer I was to have the room. I told Mr. Hadley 
 some day he would come home and find the door open ; 
 so the time passed and no one came, and one day I
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 39 
 
 opened the door, and we had the room papered and 
 painted and moved our bed into the room. My hus- 
 band told me if I would live there until the lease ex- 
 pired he would furnish me a flat uptown, so before 
 it did he sold the place out, and we went uptown to live 
 in Seventy-sixth Street. We had a very comfortable 
 home and from there, after we had been there three 
 months, we had a call to Water Street Mission. He 
 came home one day about noon and said, ' Lizzie, 
 what do you think about going down to Water 
 Street? ' I said, ' What, to the service to-night? ' He 
 said, " No, I have a call to go to Water Street, to take 
 charge. What do you think about it ? ' I thought 
 over it a while and said, ' Dear, if you have a call to 
 Water Street, it will be the call of your life.' My 
 Bible was lying on the table by me, and I said, ' Let 
 us see what the Word says.' I opened it to the 58th 
 Chapter of Isaiah, and my eyes rested on the seventh 
 verse. ' Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and 
 that thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house ? 
 When thou seest the naked that thou cover him ; and 
 that thou hide not thyself from thy own flesh ? ' I 
 said, ' Dear, there is thy commission.' Then we got 
 down on our knees and told the Lord about it, and said, 
 ' If we were to go, all right ; and if not it was all right 
 also.' So on the last Sabbath in May, 1886, we went 
 and he held his first service and James Edwards came 
 forward. lie was a terrible looking object, hut Mrs. 
 Stephen Merritt knelt on one side of him, and I on the 
 other. We put in his mouth the prayer, ' Lord, be 
 merciful to me a sinner, for Jesus' sake. Amen.' He 
 prayed that prayer and has been a sober man ever 
 since. Twenty years of soul-saving agony for souls,
 
 40 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 what an experience, and what a work! all classes, all 
 conditions, have knelt at those benches, and what 
 trophies for the Master! how many have gone home 
 to be forever with the Lord ; some have failed we all 
 come short sometimes for after we have done all, we 
 still are unprofitable servants. For twenty years we 
 gave our lives, our time, ourselves, our all for souls; 
 sometimes, I thought someone else ought to take a 
 turn at it, but I was asked if I thought the Lord had 
 sent us there. I said, ' Yes, I am sure He did.' ' Well, 
 do you think He is sending you away ? Pray over it.' 
 And I was sure He was not, only the flesh was getting 
 weary, and I would take up my staff and go forward 
 and press into the thickest of the fight until my health 
 broke down. But I never lost my interest in my boys, 
 dear fellows. I never see a poor lost drunkard but 
 my heart goes out to God in prayer for him. There 
 are some cases I would like to tell about, some of the 
 boys that worked for Mr. Hadley in his house at 206 
 Bowery. It was, he said, one of the worst houses when 
 he bought it, a terrible place, so much so that he 
 bought himself a revolver, there were such desperate 
 men. So there came a time when he said to me, ' Liz- 
 zie, I do not think I am a very good Christian.' ' Why 
 not?' said I. 'Well, here I am a Christian and am 
 carrying a revolver. What is my religion worth ? ' 
 He laid it down on the table and said, ' I will never 
 carry one again.' ' Well,' I said, ' the Lord is mighty 
 to deliver you ' and he gave it up instantly. 
 
 1 ' Does it pay ? ' I think so, for after twenty years' 
 work, broken down in health, lame, and growing old, I 
 can say it pays, and if I had my life to go over again 
 I would try to do better work. I could not give any
 
 HIS HOME LIFE 41 
 
 more for I gave my all. My precious husband, all 
 health, strength, everything. Sometimes I would be 
 asked how I could bear the sacrifice, but I tell you 
 truly, I never thought I had made any. I was simply 
 doing what I could in His name, after calling me. I 
 know it was not of our seeking, for until my husband 
 was converted I did not know what a mission was, 
 and to us it was simply marvellous how we were led. 
 Truly, in paths we knew not of and in ways that were 
 marvellous, so I praise the name of the Lord forever 
 and forever. 
 
 " I never thought my precious husband would be 
 taken, and I left, but it is another of the ways we 
 know not of, and I just want to say from my inmost 
 soul, ' not my will, but Thine be done, O Lord.' ): 
 
 There was a fitting climax to his home life. When 
 they carried his precious body from the undertaker's 
 rooms that he might lie in state in his living-room 
 above the Mission, those who knew him most inti- 
 mately came to look upon him and bathe his upturned 
 face with their tears and appreciation. On Sunday 
 evening, as his loved ones were keeping watch over 
 the sacred remains, there came a stranger up the stairs, 
 a man who had known better days. Under the in- 
 struction of S. H. Hadley, at another time, he had 
 caught a glimpse of the Saviour, but the tide of an 
 awful temptation swept him from his feet, and he 
 drifted out into the darkness of despair. But when 
 he heard that S. H. Hadley was dead, he was sobered, 
 and he came to the Mission and asked permission to 
 go up and look upon his precious face. Staggering 
 into the room because of his weakness and his grief, 
 he threw himself upon the coffin and sobbed out: " S.
 
 42 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 H. Hadley, when he was living, gave me a vision of 
 Jesus, and now that he is dead, I want to see Him once 
 more." 
 
 To me his life was one magnificent picture. There 
 were dark clouds in it, but these clouds only served to 
 make the brighter that part of his life that was so 
 filled with Jesus. I have no hesitation at all in saying 
 what I many times in this book repeat that I con- 
 sider him in any walk of his life the most Christlike 
 man I have ever known.
 
 TWO BROTHERS 
 
 * 
 
 IT would be impossible to write the story of the 
 life of Samuel Hopkins Hadley and not take 
 into account the almost equally interesting story 
 of his beloved brother, Colonel H. H. Hadley, who, in 
 his day, was one of the most remarkable rescue mis- 
 sion workers in the world, for many years supported 
 by the St. Bartholomew Church, New York City, and 
 the superintendent of the St. Bartholomew Mission, 
 the organizer of the Church Army in America, and 
 one who has the distinction of having founded more 
 Rescue Missions than any other man in the world. 
 These two brothers were passionately devoted to each 
 other, and their life-story is so intertwined that the 
 history of either would be incomplete without refer- 
 ence to the other. 
 
 William Hadley and his bride began their wedded 
 life at Malta, Morgan County, Ohio, four miles above 
 McConnellsville. There, 'mid their struggles to secure 
 a living from Mr. Hadley 's salt wells and the river- 
 bottom farm, six children were born. Number five 
 was a long, gaunt, bony, yellow-skinned, black-haired, 
 dark-eyed boy. When he was three days old, his 
 father, happening to come into the room, found the 
 mother crying as if her poor heart would break. 
 
 " Mother, what is the trouble ? " 
 
 " Oh, he's so homely ! " she sobbed. 
 43
 
 44 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " Homely ? Mercy, no ! Why, he'll be a president 
 some day ; " and the father named him Henry Harrison 
 Hadley. 
 
 When number six was born, the mother named him 
 after her own dear brother, Samuel Hopkins, who was 
 one of die early graduates of Yale College. 
 
 The sixth child born to Mr. and Mrs. William Had- 
 ley is the subject of this sketch and beyond all ques- 
 tion one of the most remarkable men of his generation. 
 
 The early home of the Hadleys was a home of pri- 
 vation. These refined, educated New England people 
 endured hardships indeed in the training of their chil- 
 dren. There was not a cabin in sight of their home, 
 nor a public road within sixteen miles. They lived 
 in a great four-roomed house which was the pride 
 of the township. A patch of ground was cleared about 
 the house; all of the Hadley children helped to pick 
 the brush and clear the land. Gradually the country 
 was settled, log schoolhouses were built, and the edu- 
 cational work of the State was started. While the 
 children of the average frontiersman could scarcely be 
 spared from the farm, Harry and Hopp (as S. H. 
 Hadley was called in his boyhood days) were sent 
 four months in each year to the log schoolhouse. These 
 boys never knew what it was to have a holiday. When 
 they were not busy they were taught by their mother, 
 whose constant fear seemed to be that her boys would 
 grow up in ignorance or adopt the ways of the rough 
 people around them with whom they were compelled 
 to mingle. Their boyhood days were spent in the 
 purest home imaginable. 
 
 Not a day was their education neglected by their 
 parents. At night they would lie on the rough punch-
 
 TWO BROTHERS 45 
 
 eon floor, in front of a great wood-stove and study 
 their lessons. The Hadleys were too poor to burn 
 candles unless absolutely necessary. The boys would 
 tear off hickory splinters from the wood that lay near 
 the stove, and running them under the stove-door, 
 would light them and use them as a sort of torch 
 by the glimmer of which they would catch a sentence 
 from their books, then memorise it in the dark. By 
 the light of another splinter they would read a new 
 sentence or review the old one. 
 
 The two brothers were never separated ; they 
 worked, planned, studied, and slept together. They 
 grew to be young giants, and woe betide the crowd 
 that would pick a fuss with one of the Hadley boys ! 
 Harry once had a fight at recess at school with Sam 
 Hook, over Vine Hazleton. Both boys were about 
 fifteen and both sought the smiles of sweet Levina. 
 They fought it out in a " ring " composed of all the 
 scholars. They were parted finally, but Sam had a 
 badly bitten finger, and Harry religiously bit a red 
 onion every morning before breakfast, all unbeknown 
 to his mother, so that Sam's finger would not heal 
 and it didn't until Harry quit biting the onion. 
 
 When Lincoln was elected President and Fort 
 Sumter had been fired upon, the President of the 
 United States called for 75,000 volunteers. When the 
 second call was made for men to serve for three years, 
 or during the war, Harry Harrison Hadley was one 
 of the first to enlist. On the morning of the awful 
 day that Harry was to leave home for the first time, he 
 and his brother, chum and playmate, went alone into 
 the " spare room." They both broke down and lay 
 upon the floor, clasped in each other's arms. They
 
 46 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 were strong young men, but they sobbed bitterly. This 
 was the first parting between Henry and Hopkins. 
 Oh, such a parting! Of course Hopp would have 
 gone along but for his lame, stiff knee. Otherwise he 
 was a Hercules in strength, and though shorter than 
 his brother, his arms were an inch longer, and his 
 sledge-like fists had often split an inch poplar board. 
 
 So devoted were these brothers that S. H. Hadley 
 never could stay away from the young soldier. Several 
 times he visited him during the service. Once at 
 Paducah, Kentucky. Here he contracted smallpox, 
 and Henry, knowing if it were discovered, his brother 
 would be sent to the pesthouse, which meant almost 
 sure death, kept him in his room, nursing him and 
 sleeping with him every night ; but he was discovered 
 after all and sent to the pesthouse. There his brother, 
 now a professional scout, and having the rank of 
 captain, armed to the teeth, visited him in the night, at 
 the risk of his life, furnished him money and delica- 
 cies. All through the war their affection seemed to 
 grow until there really seemed to be no bounds to it. 
 
 It was my privilege one summer to invite them both 
 to the Winona Bible Conference. They occupied the 
 same room together in the hotel, and when the Con- 
 ference was over S. H. Hadley said to me, " This has 
 been one of the greatest experiences of my life. My 
 brother and I have scarcely slept half the nights. We 
 have talked over the old incidents of our early life and 
 lived our experiences over until we have almost imag- 
 ined that we were boys again back in Perry County, 
 free as birds and happy as boys could be with such 
 devoted parents as God has given to us." 
 
 Colonel H. H. Hadley, after various business ex-
 
 TWO BROTHERS 47 
 
 periences in the Middle West, came to New York in 
 1868. From the first day he talked of his brother 
 Hopp, and wished that all his friends might have the 
 privilege of meeting him. 
 
 In March, 1870, Colonel Hadley became engaged 
 to the young lady whom he afterwards married. His 
 boarding house was not far from the home of his in- 
 tended wife. He sent to Zanesville, Ohio, for his 
 brother to come on after he had succeeded in getting 
 him a good position in an insurance company. He 
 came to Brooklyn, boarded with the Colonel, and the 
 three, Colonel Hadley, the young lady to whom he 
 was engaged, and S. H. Hadley, from that time were 
 inseparable. Many evenings were spent together in 
 singing the old hymns of the Church. The boys both 
 loved music and could sing sweetly. The Colonel and 
 his intended wife became Episcopalians, but S. H. 
 Hadley did not care for the form and generally went 
 to hear Dr. T. DeWitt Talmage preach. He and the 
 Colonel both drank, but up to that time were rarely 
 seen intoxicated. 
 
 H. H. Hadley was married July 13, 1870. They 
 wanted Hopkins to be the best man, but always 
 sensitive about his lameness, he refused; however, he 
 was there and helped to make the evening very happy. 
 He was handsome, bright, witty, and musical, popular 
 with young and old of both sexes. 
 
 The first home of the newly married couple was in 
 Newark, New Jersey. To this home Hopp had a 
 night key and the three who were so devoted to each 
 other had a happy time together, only the brothers 
 drank too much and their friends, especially their 
 sisters, Lucy McCann and Hannah Allen, wrote to
 
 48 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 them every week in which they had much to say about 
 their dear brothers' habits. 
 
 In 1872 S. H. Hadley met the young lady to whom 
 he was afterwards married, Miss Sarah Hulse by name. 
 At the time of their meeting she was about sixteen 
 years of age. His friends were glad to hear of his 
 engagement. They especially said that the responsi- 
 bility of a wife would make him careful. After a while 
 he became so reckless and was drinking to such excess 
 that the Colonel advised his returning to Zanesville 
 to his sister and her husband, both of whom had always 
 been devoted to the Hadley brothers. He returned to 
 Ohio. When his brother secured him another position 
 in New York he came back, and on July 23, 
 1874, he was married to his first wife. She was not 
 quite eighteen years of age. They were a handsome 
 young couple and seemed devoted to each other. The 
 first Mrs. S. H. Hadley joined Dr. DeWitt Talmage's 
 church in Brooklyn, and he went with her but still 
 continued drinking and worked at his business with 
 difficulty. The i8th of May, 1875, a delicate little son 
 came to them. The mother was very seriously ill. The 
 boy was named for his brother, Henry Harrison Had- 
 ley. 1 The serious illness of the young mother con- 
 tinued ; there had to be nurses, doctors, consultations, 
 and days of great anxiety. Hopp finally gave up his 
 business. He was broken-hearted. In the month of 
 
 1 This son survives his father. His devotion to his father 
 was wonderful and his sorrow at his great loss is pathetic. 
 He has entered into active Christian work since his sorrow 
 and there are those who are praying that God may raise him 
 up to do a work similar to that to which S. H. Hadley gave 
 his life.
 
 TWO BROTHERS 49 
 
 July the end came and the young mother passed away. 
 The little home was sold out at auction and the young 
 wife of nineteen was buried. The little son was taken 
 to the home of his maternal grandparents in the State 
 of New Jersey. The brothers at this time removed 
 to Washington, the Colonel opened a law office and 
 Hopkins went into the insurance business with a desk 
 in his brother's office. From this time on his moral 
 descent was rapid. He neglected business, played 
 cards a great deal, and became generally a fast man of 
 the world. In 1876 S. H. Hadley became acquainted 
 with his present wife in the city of Washington. In 
 1879 they were married. The Colonel, in the mean- 
 time, had returned to New York City, and in 1880 Mr. 
 and Mrs. Hadley came on to New York to spend the 
 summer with the Colonel and his family in their sum- 
 mer cottage. The Colonel was in politics and Hopp 
 had a position that he got for him, but which he had 
 great difficulty in keeping. Following this a position 
 was found for him in which he was supposed to secure 
 subscriptions to a certain book. It was at this time 
 that he forged the names that he has so frequently 
 spoken about. He wrote them in his order book to 
 keep his position and get his salary. From this point 
 his descent was more than rapid. It was impossible 
 for him to hold a position. He was a confirmed drunk- 
 ard. Through all these years of his dissapation his 
 devoted wife, the present Mrs. S. H. Hadley, who is 
 still living and maintaining her interest in the Water 
 Street Mission, never for a moment deserted him. 
 She has from the first day of their marriage until this 
 present moment been his staunch helper and supporter. 
 It means much to so refined a nature to give up all
 
 50 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 that would be pleasing to her in the way of surround- 
 ings and devote all her time and energy to the reclaim- 
 ing of poor lost men and women, but this this noble 
 woman has ever been willing to do. She has lived 
 in the midst of her husband's work. Whenever he 
 came across a fallen girl who needed a friend, he 
 knew that she could find a friend in his wife. While 
 he was away on his mission work, which sometimes 
 kept him into the small hours of the night, she would 
 wait his coming, greet him with a word of cheer, and 
 when the day of awards shall come, and S. H. Hadley 
 receives his crown, there will also be a reward of in- 
 estimable value for the noble woman who loved him 
 when there was nothing in him that was lovely, and 
 who never lost step as she marched by his side from 
 the direst of distress to the great position of honour 
 and influence which in his latter days he was able to 
 reach. 
 
 The climax of the devotion of these two brothers 
 was the conversion of the Colonel, which is best told 
 in his own language. 
 
 " On July 26, 1886, at midnight, I entered a 
 saloon at the corner of Third Avenue and One Hun- 
 dred and Seventieth Street, and with a lawyer, who 
 was also a heavy drinker, had six brandy cocktails. I 
 had been drinking terribly all day, but it seemed as if 
 every drink made me strangely sober. I had fifty- 
 three drinks that day and night. I feared I would 
 drop dead. 
 
 " The lawyer and I grasped hands and took a solemn 
 oath that we would never touch another drop. I meant 
 it, but had often meant it before. I walked home and 
 sent for a physician.
 
 TWO BROTHERS 51 
 
 " The lawyer drank again within a week, and was 
 buried within a year. 
 
 " On the 28th I again went out to try the hopeless 
 and oft-repeated task of living without strong drink. 
 My business took me down town, and on my way 
 back in the evening, trembling in every nerve, with a 
 thirst no man can describe, I concluded to call at the 
 McAuley Mission and see my brother, who was then 
 superintendent, himself a saved drunkard. I never 
 failed at such times to get sympathy from him and also 
 from my wife. Strange as it may seem, neither of 
 them ever scolded or complained, and though almost 
 discouraged, they prayed and waited. Oh, was faith 
 ever so tried? 
 
 " My brother was delighted to see me and persuaded 
 me to remain for the meeting. As I sat there listen- 
 ing to the testimonies, I thought of how true he had 
 been for more than three years, and what a hopeless 
 drunkard he used to be. Then a Scotch printer arose 
 and told how he had been saved from the very gutter, 
 and pointing to his well-dressed, happy wife and little 
 girl, said that they had been compelled to leave him, 
 but now were restored, all because he had accepted 
 Christ as his Saviour. 
 
 " All at once it occurred to me that possibly I might 
 be saved, too, if I were to stop trying to do it all myself, 
 follow Jesus and trust Him, and I determined right 
 then to test His power and love. 
 
 " I stood up and told the condition I was in, and 
 then coming forward with all my sin, I fell down on 
 my knees at the bench in front and cried to God with 
 all my heart for mercy and forgiveness. I determined 
 then that I would live a Christian life the remainder
 
 52 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 of my days, whether I felt forgiven or not. I re- 
 membered then that mother once told me that if a 
 person dies while earnestly praying to God they would 
 not be lost. Here seemed to me at last a chance for 
 heaven. I would pray till I died, and then surely I 
 would be saved. As I asked God to forgive me for 
 the sake of His dear Son, I felt that Jesus died for me 
 alone. How real it seemed! I could almost hear 
 them driving the great spike nails into the rough cross 
 through his hands. I confess that as I entreated God 
 to take away the terrible appetite for drink, I had not 
 much faith. It had been fed and growing for twenty- 
 four years ; had controlled me asleep and awake. So 
 my faith was weak then, if I had any at all. 
 
 " Then I thought, ' Well, He bore all that agony for 
 me on the awful cross, and I'll bear this thirst as long 
 as I live.' Soon as that thought entered my mind, it 
 was precious, and I felt a bond of sympathy between 
 the Saviour and me, even me, and said, ' Oh, yes, 
 Lord Jesus, I will gladly bear it all for Thee.' I 
 did not pray any more to have it removed, but. 
 that He would comfort me for bearing it with His 
 strength. 
 
 " As Brother Smith, the Assistant Superintendent, 
 prayed, I felt resigned, and with a fixed purpose to see 
 the end of a Christian life, took my seat. Somehow I 
 had lost my load ; I could feel sad no longer, and from 
 that moment to this I have had no desire, longing, or 
 thirst for alcoholic beverages. 
 
 " 'Free! free! the joyous light of heaven 
 Comes with full and fair release, 
 O God! what light! all sin forgiven, 
 Jesus, mercy, love and peace.'
 
 COL. H. H. HADLEY.
 
 TWO BROTHERS 53 
 
 " Surely I was turned into another man. I was 
 controlled by the habit of profanity until then, but 
 since have not thought an oath. 
 
 " That must have been a happy night for my dear 
 brother. He accompanied me far on my way home 
 and seemed loath to leave me. When I reached home 
 and told my wife, who was anxiously watching, as 
 she had so often done before, she said : 
 
 " * You need not have told me, darling boy. I knew 
 it when you came in; now, I shall call you good 
 Henry.' 
 
 "Oh, the tears of joy that night! When at last I 
 slept, I dreamed I was in the Mission singing the 
 hymn they sang that night : 
 
 " ' I have found repose for my weary soul, 
 Trusting in the promise of the Saviour. 
 A harbor safe when the billows roll, 
 Trusting in the promise of the Saviour.' 
 
 " The next morning I awoke singing. I felt that 
 I was free. The birds never sang so sweetly as then, 
 and the very rocks seemed to wear smiling faces for 
 me, poor, wicked, sinful me, the chief of sinners, but 
 saved, forgiven, redeemed, converted sure enough this 
 time. 
 
 " It was no trouble to keep out of saloons then, nor 
 has it ever been since. I know God can keep me in 
 a saloon, but He does better, He keeps me out of one. 
 No man who loves God likes to go into a saloon ! 
 
 " My first testimony was given next morning to a 
 brewer, who insisted on my taking a drink. 
 ' No, I was converted last night/ said I. 
 
 " ' What's that? ' said he. And then I told him all
 
 54 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 about it, and that I would never enter a saloon again 
 or touch a drop of strong drink. 
 
 " ' Well/ said he, shaking my hand, ' I'm glad for 
 the sake of your boys, but just come in and have a 
 sodawater or a cigar.' 
 
 " ' No,' said I, and from that day to this I've kept 
 off temptation ground, and soon after stopped the use 
 of tobacco. 
 
 " I immediately committed myself in all possible 
 ways. Through the columns of my paper, which had 
 been largely devoted to beer and liquor interests, I 
 informed its readers that the editor was converted, and 
 would no longer receive advertisements of saloons and 
 brewers; thus throwing away many hundred dollars 
 yearly which came from that source. It was a severe 
 struggle, but I had decided that Christ and I would 
 live this life together, cost what it would. Oh, how 
 tenderly and beautifully He has redeemed every prom- 
 ise! I was determined to trust Him absolutely, and 
 am very glad that I did, for it has proved His promises 
 and given me wonderful faith."
 
 IV 
 HIS LIFE STORY 
 
 IT is impossible for one to give a more accurate 
 description of the life story of Mr. Hadley than 
 that written by himself in his book, " Down in 
 Water Street." 
 
 " I was born in Malta Township, Morgan County, 
 on the banks of the Muskingum River, August 27, 
 1842, the youngest of six children. My father was a 
 New Hampshire man, who went West when young to 
 seek his fortune. My mother was the daughter of a 
 Congregational clergyman in Massachusetts. Her 
 only brother, Samuel Hopkins Riddell, after whom I 
 am named, was also a clergyman. My grandmother 
 on my mother's side was a Hopkins. 
 
 " Her father founded the Hopkins Academy in Old 
 Hadley, Mass. On my mother's side I am a direct 
 descendant of the famous divine, Jonathan Edwards. 
 
 " After my mother's education was finished she, too, 
 went to Ohio to teach. My father was a partner of 
 the Buckinghams, of Zanesville and Putnam, Ohio. 
 He afterwards moved to Malta, and bored two salt 
 wells there. He failed in the great crisis of 1837, but 
 had invested for rny mother and bought a section of 
 land from the Government in Perry County adjoining. 
 
 " There father moved with his family in the dead 
 of winter, in 1845. ^ e rnoved into a log house in the 
 ' forest primeval ' that surrounded us. This sectirn
 
 56 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 of land lay on the dividing ridges of Sunday Creek 
 and Monday Creek, in Salt Lick Township, Perry 
 County, Ohio. 
 
 " In our log-cabin home I could lie on my bed and 
 see the stars through the cracks of the roof, and feel 
 the snow sifting down upon my face in the winter 
 time. We were lulled to sleep by the barking of foxes 
 and the hooting of owls in the woods around us, and 
 were awakened in the morning by the chattering of the 
 grey squirrels near our windows. From my earliest 
 recollection I was raised to clearing land ; helping to 
 get our large farm under cultivation. The heft of 
 the work devolved upon my elder brother, Henry H., 
 and myself. My oldest brother, William, died in the 
 university at Delaware, Ohio, as he was about to finish 
 his education. 
 
 " I had two sisters living, older than myself, Lucy 
 Hopkins and Hannah Eastman. The eldest child, a 
 girl, died in infancy. My sisters were converted in 
 the old log meeting-house which my beloved father 
 built and gave to the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
 which was dedicated as ' Young's Chapel/ after the 
 celebrated Methodist preacher, the Rev. Jacob Young, 
 D. D. They were about twelve years old when they 
 were marvellously saved at the ' mourners' bench,' 
 and received a definite baptism of the Holy Spirit. 
 The eldest, Lucy, died in 1879. She prayed for me 
 until the last. Shortly before her death she said to 
 her husband : 
 
 ' Robert, Hopp will be saved.' 
 
 " ' How do you know ? ' said he, who was at that 
 time an unbeliever. 
 
 " ' Because Jesus told me so,' she said.
 
 HIS LIFE STORY 57 
 
 " My younger sister, Mrs. Hannah E. Allen, is liv- 
 ing to-day, surrounded by her children and grand- 
 children. 
 
 " The neighbourhood in which we lived was very 
 primitive ; entirely a farming section. Most of the 
 people lived in log cabins, and opportunities for educa- 
 tion were very meagre. I attended school altogether 
 about four months, in the old log schoolhouse with 
 puncheon floors, one whole side of the house being 
 used as a fireplace. 
 
 " In this log-cabin home we were brought up to 
 fear God. Family worship was strictly observed morn- 
 ing and evening. I shall never forget the influence of 
 that home; that sweet Christian mother, precious, 
 gentle, and tender. Brought up amid refinement, un- 
 used to hard work, out there in our frontier home she 
 did all the work with the aid of us children. 
 
 " No whiskey or tobacco ever invaded the sacred 
 precincts of our log-cabin home. I promised my 
 mother as early as I can remember, when being taught 
 my first prayers at her blessed knees, that I never would 
 drink. Indeed, I promised her that before I ever knew 
 what the evils of liquor were. Often in her busy cares, 
 as she would pass by me, she would stop and hug me 
 to her bosom, and say : 
 
 " ' My darling boy, you never will drink, will you ? ' 
 As I would look into her lovely face, I would say: 
 
 " ' No, mother, I will never drink.' 
 
 " This promise I kept until my eighteenth year, when 
 I was induced to take my first drink. A friend of ours, 
 a man some years older than myself, a prominent busi- 
 ness man, had been to town. He got quite drunk, and 
 had a bottle of whiskey with him. I met him on the
 
 58 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 big road. It was a beautiful moonlight evening, and 
 he stood there perhaps half an hour coaxing me to 
 take a drink, the bottle in one hand and a corn-cob 
 stopper in the other. 
 
 " ' Come, come, Hopp/ he said, ' do take a drink ; 
 now be sociable.' 
 
 " ' No/ I said, ' I can't drink with you.' I didn't 
 say, as I should have done, that I had promised my 
 mother I never would drink. 
 
 " ' Come,' said he, ' if you don't drink with me, I 
 will think that you feel yourself above me.' I felt 
 stung at this, and took the bottle from his hands and 
 turned it up, and with my eyes on the moon, which was 
 looking so kindly down on me, I took my first drink. 
 
 " Dear reader, I have been careful in making this 
 statement complete, as this was the most critical act 
 of my life up to that time. That first drink changed 
 my whole life. Within ten minutes it seemed to me 
 that I was taken possession of by demons. Thoughts 
 came crowding into my mind to which I had been an 
 entire stranger. Oh, the sorrow and shame and crime 
 and suffering that were entailed as direct results of 
 that first drink ! 
 
 " It isn't the last drink that hurts a man, or the 
 fourth, or fifth, but the first drink that is what ruins 
 a man. If these pages are read by one who has not 
 taken his first drink, take counsel by one who has 
 suffered so much, and die before you take it. Let 
 the saloon door be the dead-line to you. 
 
 " Within a week from that first drink I could drink 
 half a pint of whiskey right down. My precious 
 mother died shortly after this without having known 
 that I had broken my promise. She was sitting in her
 
 HIS LIFE STORY 59 
 
 chair when the angels came for her, and she said to 
 my sisters, who were standing by : ' Tell Hopkins to 
 meet me in heaven.' 
 
 " Yes, dear mother, by the grace of God I will meet 
 you there. 
 
 " Six months afterwards my father died, and our 
 home was broken up. I went to study medicine in a 
 village near by, with one of the most prominent phy- 
 sicians in our county. He was a brilliant man, but 
 a drunkard, and what I didn't know before, he taught 
 me. Before my course was finished, I got into trou- 
 ble through drink, and had to clear out as fast as my 
 horse could go: and, in fact, I kept clearing out for 
 some years afterwards in pretty much the same way 
 from every place that I settled. 
 
 " I gave up my studies and became a professional 
 gambler. For fifteen years I rarely went to bed sober. 
 For many years I did not see my danger, or was too 
 much under the influence of liquor to think seriously 
 on the subject. Occasionally, however, ominous fore- 
 bodings would arise in my heart and I wondered what 
 the end would be. 
 
 " In 1870 it grew entirely too hot for me out West, 
 and I came to New York. Through the influence of 
 my brother, Colonel H. H. Hadley, who was here and 
 who stood high in life insurance circles, I obtained a 
 position with a salary of $300 per month and a liberal 
 allowance for expenses. The failure of the company 
 I was with threw me out of a position, and I never was 
 able to command as good a salary afterward. 
 
 " I wish I could describe the remorse and heart- 
 aches of the confirmed drunkard who feels himself, 
 slowly but surely, slipping down to that awful abyss,
 
 60 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 the drunkard's hell, a foretaste of which he already 
 feels in his soul. I have passed through it all. ' A pen 
 of iron with the point of a diamond/ even in the hand 
 of a Prophet Jeremiah could not describe it. Through 
 the craving for drink and under the hellish influence of 
 its promptings, a man will wreck his home, will lie to 
 and deceive his best friends, his wife, and everybody 
 who knows or trusts him. 
 
 " I had lied, stolen, and forged checks. The law, 
 relentless as a bloodhound, urged on by outraged and 
 defrauded creditors, was on my track. So weak I 
 could scarcely stand or think, unable to sleep or eat, 
 still I knew that if I did not make certain crooked 
 things straight at once I would be arrested and locked 
 in a felon's cell. I could see only one thing to do 
 just what the devil wanted me to do and that was to 
 go and perpetrate some crime greater than anything 
 I had ever done. Then, in the agony of my soul, 
 delirium tremens came upon me, as stealthily as a 
 snake from behind my door or through the window, in 
 the room where I vainly hoped I might get a few 
 hours' sleep. Fiends of the most hellish forms gath- 
 ered around me, holding their mouths so close that 
 I could feel their scorching breath, telling me what 
 to do ; while my faithful, loving wife was holding me 
 in her arms, I feared she would be frightened out of 
 her senses by their evil plottings. The advice of these 
 demons, whether real or imaginary, always tended 
 towards self-destruction. Then they would go into the 
 next room and speak so loud that I could hear every 
 word. Often I would rise from my bed determined to 
 end my life. 
 
 " One particular night, at Taylor's Hotel, Jersey
 
 HIS LIFE STORY 61 
 
 City, N. J., where I lived for several years, I went to 
 the window several times, determined to end it all, 
 but an unseen hand restrained me. 
 
 " I could mention in detail the many positions I 
 held, procured chiefly through my brother, who though 
 a heavy drinker himself at that time, had not been con- 
 quered by it ; but I have spoken of failures enough. 
 
 " On Tuesday evening, April 18, 1882, I sat 
 in Kirker's saloon, in Harlem, at One Hundred and 
 Twenty-fifth Street and Third Avenue. Our home 
 was destroyed, and my faithful, loving wife had gone 
 back South where I had married her. She had stood 
 by me to the last. How she could do it I cannot under- 
 stand. Dear, faithful, truthful wife! She is still liv- 
 ing, and I pray may be spared many years to me. I 
 think I had never given her a cross word surely she 
 had not given me one ; but our home was a drunkard's 
 home, and all was gone. I had pawned everything or 
 sold everything that would buy a drink. I could not 
 sleep a wink. I had not eaten for days, and for the 
 four nights preceding I had suffered with delirium 
 tremens from midnight until morning. 
 
 " I had often said I would never be a tramp, I would 
 never be cornered, for if ever that time came, I had 
 determined to find a home in the bottom of the river. 
 But our Lord so ordered it that when that time did 
 come I was not able to walk one-quarter of the way 
 to the river. 
 
 " I was sitting on a whiskey barrel for perhaps two 
 hours, when all of a sudden I seemed to feel some great 
 and mighty presence. I did not know then what it 
 was. I learned afterwards that it was Jesus, the sin- 
 ner's Friend. Dear reader, never until my dying day
 
 62 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 will I forget the sight presented to my horrified gaze. 
 My sins appeared to creep along the wall in letters of 
 fire. I turned and looked in another direction, and 
 there I saw them again. 
 
 " I have always believed I got a view of eternity 
 right there in that gin-mill. I believe I saw what every 
 poor lost sinner will see when he stands unrepentant 
 and unforgiven at the bar of God. It filled me with 
 an unspeakable terror. I supposed I was dying and 
 this was a premonition. I believe others in the saloon 
 thought I was dying, but I cared very little then what 
 people thought of me. I got down from the whiskey 
 barrel with but one desire, and that was to get away 
 from the place. 
 
 " A saloon is an awful place to die in if one has had 
 a praying mother. I walked up to the bar and pounded 
 it with my fist until I made the glasses rattle. Those 
 near by who were drinking looked on with scornful 
 curiosity. I said: 
 
 " ' Boys, listen to me ; I am dying, but I will die in 
 the street before I will ever take another drink ' and 
 I felt as though this would happen before morning. 
 
 "A voice said to me: 'If you want to keep that 
 promise, go and have yourself locked up.' There was 
 no place on earth I dreaded more than a police sta- 
 tion, for I was living in daily dread of arrest; but I 
 went to the police station in East One Hundred and 
 Twenty-sixth Street, near Lexington Avenue, and 
 asked the captain to lock me up. 
 
 " ' Why do you want to be locked up ? ' asked he as 
 I gave an assumed name. 
 
 " ' Because,' said I, ' I want to be placed somewhere 
 so I can die before I can get another drink of whiskey.'
 
 HIS LIFE STORY 63 
 
 They locked me up in a narrow cell, No. 10, in the 
 back corridor. That has become a famous cell to me 
 since. For twenty years I have visited that same 
 cell on the anniversary of that awful night of dark- 
 ness, and have had sweet communion there with Jesus. 
 
 " It seemed that all the demons that could find room 
 came in that place with me that night. They were 
 not all the company I had either. No, praise the 
 Lord ! the dear Saviour Who came to me in the saloon 
 was present, and said : 
 
 " ' Pray ! ' I did fall on my knees on that stone 
 floor, and said: 
 
 ' ' God be merciful to me, a sinner.' As soon as I 
 was able to leave my cell, I was taken to the police 
 court and arraigned before Justice Bixby. He was 
 very kind, and spoke carefully to the officer about my 
 case, and remanded me back to the cell. When they 
 deemed it safe to let me go, Mr. Knox McAfee, the 
 clerk of the court, came down to my cell and let me 
 go free. I made my way to my brother's house, where 
 every care was given me. While lying in bed the 
 admonishing Spirit never left me, and when I arose 
 the following Sabbath morning I felt that that day 
 would decide my fate.
 
 V 
 MEETING JESUS 
 
 "INk JTANY plans were turned over in my mind, 
 1% /I but all were rejected, and towards even- 
 .L. T JL ing, at the suggestion of a fellow-sinner, 
 I went to the Jerry McAuley Cremorne Mission, No. 
 104 West Thirty-second Street. It was Sunday night, 
 and the house was packed. With great difficulty I 
 made my way through the crowded aisle to the space 
 near the platform. There I saw that man of God, 
 that apostle to the drunkard and outcast, Jerry 
 McAuley. 
 
 " I glanced about the room and saw a mixed crowd, 
 I assure you. It was the regular rescue mission 
 audience that I have grown so familiar with since 
 pickpockets, thieves, drunkards, harlots, sporting men 
 and women, and up near Jerry some glorious women, 
 too. Only one glance was needed to tell me what they 
 were doing there. They were there because it was 
 good fishing-ground and they were helping Jerry to 
 bring immortal souls to Jesus' feet. 
 
 " Jerry arose amid deep silence, and told his ex- 
 perience that simple story I have heard so many 
 hundred times since, but which was ever new how 
 he had been a ' thief, an outcast, yes, a regular bum ; 
 but,' he would add, ' I gave my heart to God, and He 
 saved me from whiskey and tobacco and everything 
 
 64
 
 MEETING JESUS 65 
 
 that's wicked and bad. I used to be one of the worst 
 drunkards in the Fourth Ward, but Jesus came into 
 my heart and took the whole thing out of me, and I 
 don't want it any more.' 
 
 " I never heard this kind of Gospel before, with 
 all the sermons I had heard, and I began to say to my- 
 self: 'I wonder if I, too, could be saved?' There 
 was a sincerity about this man's testimony that carried 
 conviction with it. I listened to the testimony of 
 probably twenty-five redeemed drunkards, every one 
 of whom told my story. They had all been saved from 
 rum. When the invitation was given, I raised my 
 hand and soon was kneeling down with quite a crowd 
 of drunkards. 
 
 " Reader, how I wish I could bring that scene be- 
 fore you. Never till my dying day will 1 forget it. 
 How I wondered if I could be saved ; if God would 
 hear me. I was a total stranger, but I felt that I had 
 sympathy, and it helped me. 
 
 " Jerry made the first prayer. I shall never forget it. 
 
 " ' Dear Saviour, won't You look down in pity upon 
 these poor souls ? They need Your help, Lord ; they 
 cannot get along without it. Blessed Jesus, these 
 poor sinners have got themselves into a bad hole. 
 Won't You help them out? Speak to them, Lord; do, 
 for Jesus' sake. Amen.' 
 
 " Then Mrs. McAuley prayed fervently for us. 
 
 " ' Dear Saviour,' she said in closing, * I was a 
 drunkard down in Cherry Hill fourteen years ago, 
 and You saved me. Save these poor drunkards, for 
 Jesus' sake.' 
 
 ; ' Then Jerry sang in his peculiar voice, still 
 kneeling:
 
 66 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 '"There is a fountain filled with blood, 
 
 Drawn from Immanuel's veins; 
 And sinners plunged beneath that flood 
 Lose all their guilty stains.' 
 
 I had heard that dear old song years before around 
 our fireside at evening prayer, in my happy childhood, 
 and it came back like a sweet memory. 
 
 " ' Now, all keep on your knees and keep praying,' 
 said Jerry, 'while I ask these dear souls to pray for 
 themselves.' He spoke to one and another as he 
 placed his hand upon their heads, saying : ' Brother, 
 pray. Now, tell the Lord what you want Him to do 
 for you.' How I trembled as he approached me. 
 Though I had knelt down with the determination to 
 give my heart to God, when it came to the very mo- 
 ment of decision I felt like backing out. The devil 
 knelt beside me and whispered crimes in my ears that 
 I had forgotten for months. I had standing against 
 me at that moment one hundred and twenty-five for- 
 geries on one man alone. In the agony I had been in 
 through drink, I had forgotten it until the devil re- 
 minded me of it there. 
 
 " ' What are you going to do about these matters 
 if you are going to be a Christian? You can't afford 
 to make a mistake. Had you not better wait and fix 
 these matters up and get out of some of these troubles, 
 and then make a start? How can you go to Sing Sing 
 prison and be a Christian ? ' Oh, what a conflict was 
 going on for my poor soul. 
 
 " A blessed whisper said : ' Come.' 
 
 " The devil said : ' Be careful.' 
 
 " Jerry's hand was on my head. He said : ' Brother, 
 pray ! '
 
 MEETING JESUS 67 
 
 " ' I can't pray. Won't you pray for me ? ' 
 
 " ' All the prayers in the world won't save you un- 
 less you pray for yourself.' I halted but a moment, 
 and then with a breaking heart I said : 
 
 " ' Dear Jesus, can You help me? ' 
 
 " Dear reader, never with mortal tongue can I 
 describe that moment. Although up to that time my 
 soul had been filled with indescribable gloom, I felt 
 the glorious brightness of the noonday sunshine in 
 my heart. I felt that I was a free man. Oh, the 
 precious feeling of safety, of freedom, of resting on 
 Jesus. I felt that Christ with all His love and power 
 had come into my life. 
 
 ' ' Sinking and panting as for breath, 
 
 I knew not that help was near. 
 I cried : " Oh, save me, Lord, from death, 
 
 Immortal Jesus, hear me." 
 Then quick as thought I felt Him nigh; 
 
 My Saviour stood before me ; 
 I saw His brightness around me shine, 
 
 And shouted, " Glory, Glory." ' 
 
 And I have been shouting ' Glory ' pretty much all the 
 time since. From that moment until now I have never 
 wanted a drink of whiskey, and have never seen money 
 enough to make me take one. The precious touch of 
 Jesus' cleansing blood in my soul took from my 
 stomach, my brain, my blood, and my imagination, the 
 hell-born desire for whiskey. 
 
 " Hallelujah! What a Saviour! 
 
 " I promised God that if He would take me from 
 the bondage of strong drink, I would work for Him 
 the rest of my life. He has done His part, and I am 
 trying to do mine.
 
 68 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " One other thing has never ceased to be a wonder : 
 I was so addicted to profanity that I would swear in 
 my sleep. I could not speak ten consecutive words 
 without an oath. The form or thought of an oath has 
 never presented itself to me since. Bless His dear 
 name forever. 
 
 " A few weeks afterwards the dear Lord showed me 
 I was leaning on tobacco, and that I had better lean 
 entirely on Him. I threw my plug away one night 
 down the aisle of the Mission, and the desire was re- 
 moved; in fact, tobacco was the only real sacrifice I 
 ever made for Jesus, for I would gladly have paid 
 money if I had it, to be freed from rum! 
 
 " The wonderful mystery of God's love for sinners 
 never ceased to excite the most lively emotions in my 
 breast, and has never become an old story. How the 
 precious, pure, and spotless Saviour could stoop 
 down and bear away my drunkenness and delirium 
 tremens, to this day fills my soul with the tenderest 
 gratitude. 
 
 " Surely, ' if any man be in Jesus Christ, he is a 
 new creation.' 
 
 " How are you going to explain the physiological 
 conditions of a man's stomach and brain, when but a 
 moment before he would almost commit murder for 
 a glass of rum, and after the precious blood has 
 touched his soul he abhors it? It is simply the Divine, 
 miraculous power of Jesus casting out demons as He 
 did when on earth. ' Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, 
 to-day, and forever.' (Heb. xiii. 8.) 
 
 "Oh, sinner, are you reading these lines? Before 
 you close this book, take Him to your heart, and life, 
 and death can never part you.
 
 MEETING JESUS 69 
 
 " When I arose from my knees in the Cremorne 
 Mission after this glorious vision filled my soul, I 
 related my experience, and for the first time told the 
 truth mind you, the truth so far as I remember it. 
 All drunkards are liars, and my candid opinion is, 
 that it is the last thing that any person is saved from. 
 
 " People crowded around me and shook hands with 
 me. I was amazed. I didn't know what to make of 
 it. I had not shaken hands with anyone for six months 
 except some barkeeper whom I wanted to ' hang up ' 
 for a drink. 
 
 " I made friends that night that have stood by me 
 ever since. Yes, I got acquainted with some of the 
 aristocracy of heaven that night. I went out in the 
 street and looked up to the sky. I don't believe I had 
 looked up for ten years. A drunkard never looks up 
 he always looks down. It was a glorious starlight 
 night, and it seemed to me that I could see Jesus look- 
 ing at me out of a million eyes. 
 
 ' ' Dear Jesus/ I cried, ' You know You have saved 
 me. But how am I going to stay saved ? ' Already the 
 devil had thrown a shadow across my path : 
 
 ' You are saved ; of course you are ; but you'll fall, 
 and you'll be awful sorry for all the fuss you have 
 made to-night.' It seemed to me that Jesus said so 
 plainly : 
 
 : ' My child, work for Me. There are thousands 
 who would come to Me if they only knew Me. Go and 
 tell them.' " 
 
 What S. II. Hadley heard Jesus say to him so 
 plainly was ever the inspiration of his life. I have 
 never met one who was so evidently desirous of doing
 
 70 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 the will of God as he, but while he delighted to serve 
 all classes of people and was willing to give heed to 
 the most ordinary invitation for service, yet whenever 
 there was brought to his attention a poor lost drunkard 
 he was entirely forgetful of himself, and of the weak- 
 ness of his body, and I have seen him work for hours 
 with one person alone or travel hundreds of miles if 
 only he might help to lift some mother's burden or 
 comfort some heartbroken wife whose loved ones had 
 been slain by their appetite or passion for strong drink. 
 He was untiring in his efforts to help others. He 
 was never too weary to go out for the lowest. He 
 came one day to my house in the country, utterly 
 worn out from his city work, and was told that there 
 was a man in the county jail who had committed a 
 crime under the influence of drink. Nothing would 
 do but that he must be driven to the county seat at 
 once, and weary as he was, he spent almost the entire 
 afternoon labouring with the man, who, like himself, 
 had been slain by this powerful enemy. In the edition 
 of Perpetual Revival, under date of March 3d, he 
 uses the following illustration, which greatly in- 
 fluenced his Christian life: 
 
 " HELP SOMEBODY ELSE 
 
 " A traveller was crossing a mountain height alone, 
 over almost untrodden snow. For a time he went 
 bravely along his dreary path. But with the deepening 
 shade and freezing blast there fell a weight upon his 
 eyes and brain which seemed irresistible. In vain he 
 tried to shake off that fatal heaviness. At this moment 
 his foot struck against a heap that lay across his path.
 
 MEETING JESUS 71 
 
 It was not a stone, though no stone could be colder, 
 or seem to have less life. He stooped to touch it, but 
 found a human body buried beneath a drift of snow. 
 The next moment the traveller, though weak himself, 
 had taken a brother in his arms, and was chafing his 
 hands and chest and brow, breathing upon the stiff 
 cold lips the warm breath of a living soul, pressing 
 the silent heart to the throbbing pulse of his own gen- 
 erous bosom. The effort to save another had brought 
 back to himself life, warmth, and energy. He was a 
 man again, and instead of dropping down in dreamless 
 sleep to die, he set himself resolutely to save the life 
 of a brother and thereby saved himself. Thus thou- 
 sands are falling around us one by one. And shall 
 not the sight of these arouse us? Can we sleep when 
 the Master is calling us to labour? Can we be idle 
 and indifferent when the cries of the perishing are 
 sounding in our ears? Is it any wonder that Christ 
 looks with astonishment upon every loiterer and asks : 
 ' Why stand ye here all day idle ? ' Is he asking you 
 and me this question? If so, will we enter the vine- 
 yard and work, or will we stand idle until the dark 
 shadows of night settle down around us when no man 
 can work? What we do, we must do quickly. What 
 is our decision? GOD WANTS AN ANSWER."
 
 VI 
 A DARK PICTURE 
 
 I FIND it exceedingly difficult to write the next 
 chapter of this book. It has always been next 
 to impossible to think of S. H. Hadley as ever 
 being other than the purest, noblest, truest Christian, 
 and yet according to his own testimony he came into 
 the glorious light out of the blackness of despair. 
 
 I was one day in Tiffany's great jewelry establish- 
 ment in New York making some inquiry about the 
 setting of a ring, when I asked the salesman regarding 
 some valuable pearls about which I had heard a 
 customer at my side speaking. He courteously said 
 to me, " I shall be glad to show them to you," and tak- 
 ing out a square piece of black velvet, he spread it 
 out upon the show-case, and then laid upon the black 
 background the most beautiful pearls I had ever seen. 
 He told me that the price of one pearl was $15,000, and 
 that the value of it was moderate in comparison with 
 many other gems which they had in their possession, 
 but with the black background the pearl was almost 
 dazzling in its beauty. 
 
 I do not know but that the black background of such 
 a life as that of S. H. Hadley may the more marvel- 
 lously exhibit the grace of God by means of which he 
 was saved and kept for so many years. 
 
 That he was a drunkard, all his friends know who 
 
 72
 
 A DARK PICTURE 73 
 
 have heard him speak. He never forgot to tell it nor 
 did he ever forget to couple with it the story of his 
 salvation. I have heard the story repeated hundreds 
 of times, but the last time it was as fresh and new as 
 if I had never heard it before. I never heard him 
 speak without shuddering. It seemed to me that he 
 must be telling what was not true, and yet those who 
 loved him through the long years of his weary wander- 
 ing have also repeatedly affirmed that in his testi- 
 mony the half had scarcely been told. 
 
 That he was guilty of forgery we know from his 
 testimony. One hundred and twenty-five forgeries 
 were committed against one man alone, but then as he 
 has frequently said, " If a man is a drunkard all other 
 sins follow in the wake of drunkenness." 
 
 He has also told us himself that he was not truth- 
 ful. In his early days he represented to those who 
 did not know him that he was a lame soldier and that 
 his lameness came about as a result of the battle at 
 Stone River. Frequently there were unscrupulous 
 lawyers who wanted to secure him a pension, and once 
 or twice when not quite himself he was almost on the 
 point of yielding to their solicitations. His own wife 
 did not know that the story was not true. His beloved 
 brother and his wife knew, however, and when he pro- 
 fessed conversion Colonel Hadley said to his wife, " I 
 can soon tell you whether Hopkins is converted or 
 not." When under the influence of the Spirit of God 
 he had made the wrong right with his true and noble 
 wife and the wife of his brother, as the Colonel entered 
 his home one evening his wife told him that she was 
 sure that Hopkins had been converted. " Did he tell 
 his wife that lie? " said her husband. " Yes," said she,
 
 74 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " he did." Colonel Hadley began to tremble, immedi- 
 ately left the room, was powerfully impressed and 
 confessed afterwards that if his brother had failed 
 to make that wrong right he would never have be- 
 lieved in him, but because of his honest confession 
 he knew that the story of his conversion must be true. 
 
 He was also a gambler. I feel a sense of heart- 
 sickness as I record the words, but the story is from 
 his own lips and one of his escapades is described by 
 himself as follows: 
 
 " A Fourth of July celebration in the year 1865 was 
 going on at Logan, Ohio, and I went down with a 
 delegation from Straitsville to celebrate. I was a reck- 
 less, drinking gambler. 
 
 " My girl was among a waggon-load dressed in 
 stars and stripes. They were as pretty a lot of country 
 girls as Salt Lick Township could turn out. It was in 
 the year 1865. The war was just over and the war 
 feeling was very strong. 
 
 " All the local big-bugs rolled off yards and yards 
 of patriotism on the grandstand of the Hocking 
 County race-track down in Logan that day where the 
 crowds gathered to hear them, as well as to see the 
 waggon-loads of pretty girls and mingle with the thou- 
 sands who were filled with patriotism, importance, and 
 fighting whiskey. There was many a fight there that 
 day. 
 
 " About two o'clock, while old Tom Millard was 
 spouting patriotism from the speaker's stand to the 
 eager crowd of listeners, Dan Kline from Lancaster 
 came to me and said : 
 
 : ' I've been hunting for you, Hopp. Let's go up 
 to Abe Spencer's saloon and have a little game.'
 
 A DARK PICTURE 75 
 
 " ' I'm in,' said I, ' only I must go and tell my girl. 
 I came down here with Phebe, and you know her 
 father is a preacher, and he didn't want to let her come, 
 but I told him I would take extra good care of her.' 
 
 " And so I went and told her to go straight to the 
 American House as soon as the speaking was over, 
 and to wait until I came. She said, ' All right ; don't 
 stay long,' and I said, ' No, honey,' for we liked each 
 other right well. 
 
 " When we got to Spencer's, we all took another 
 round of drinks and then began a seven-up game, such 
 as you never saw. Old Rudy Duvall was my partner, 
 and Noel Starring sat opposite Kline. We played 
 four-handed for several hours, when Noel said he must 
 quit and go home with his wife, or she would go 
 crazy. Since Starring was a loser we let him go. 
 It was a rule in the game in Ohio that so long as the 
 loser has a cent left he has the right to keep the game 
 going, though he may stop whenever he pleases as 
 long as he is the loser; but the winner can never jump 
 the game. 
 
 " When Noel had gone, Dan says to me : 
 
 " ' Hopp, I'll play you a single-handed at two dollars 
 a game.' 
 
 ' ' Make it three,' said I, and he agreed, so at it 
 we went. I had about sixty dollars in my pocket and 
 old Rudy had a pocketful of bills and plenty in the 
 bank, and he swore he'd back me for a long game with 
 every dollar he had or could get. We became deeply 
 interested ; as we played, I warmed to the game but 
 lost right along. Dan kept cool and won every time. 
 It made me mad to see how cool Dan kept. During 
 the game he would smile and sing snatches of a cam-
 
 76 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 paign song that I had never heard, a line at a time, 
 and I really believe it was the attention I paid to that 
 song that made me lose. It ran like this : 
 
 " ' O where, tell me where was old Abraham Lincoln born ? 
 O where, tell me where was old Abraham Lincoln born? 
 In an old Kentucky cabin one cheerless winter morn; 
 In the Hardin County hills, he was raised to plow the corn. 
 
 " ' O, who led the Yeomanry in battle, tell me who ? 
 O, who led the Yeomanry in battle, tell me who? 
 It was Honest Abe, my boy, who stands at six feet two, 
 A stalwart, gallant warrior, to battle for the true.' 
 
 " My last dollar was gone and I stirred up old Rudy, 
 who was asleep under a table, and he loaned me a 
 hundred. We sent for some supper and played while 
 we ate, while a big crowd of countrymen looked on. 
 It seemed as though my luck would never turn. We 
 changed the deck of cards for a new deck at my de- 
 mand, but yet I lost and lost until my borrowed hundred 
 dollars was gone with the rest, and old Rudy Duvall 
 was broke as well as myself. The sun was rising, for 
 we had played all night. And since the old man under 
 the table was dead drunk and I was dead broke, I put 
 up my horse against a hundred dollars and played 
 Dan ' two best out of three.' We had won game about 
 and stood six to six. Dan handled the cards and 
 turned a Jack, which gave him the game and my horse. 
 Then I put up the horse that my girl had ridden to 
 town, and staked him against the critter that Dan 
 won. This time we played ' three best out of five.' 
 Again Dan's luck stayed by him and I had nary a 
 horse left. Then I played the saddles and bridles. I
 
 A DARK PICTURE 77 
 
 couldn't win anything ; but that old song kept running 
 through my muddled brains: 
 
 " ' O where, tell me where was old Abraham Lincoln born ? 
 In the Hardin County hills where he used to plow the corn, 
 In an old Kentucky cabin one cheerless winter morn.' 
 
 " I cussed Dan and cussed old Abe and his cabin and 
 his cornfield, and cussed my luck. 
 
 " Just then Phebe sent me word that she had been 
 sitting up all night in her dress of stars and stripes, 
 waiting to go home, asking me when I proposed to go 
 with her. I sent her word that I was stuck in a game 
 and would never go home unless my luck turned. Dan 
 said he was ready to stop any time. Of course he 
 was ; and unless I could raise a stake I could not pre- 
 vent him from stopping with all my money and prop- 
 erty in his possession. 
 
 " I reached down under the table and took the watch 
 out of old Duvall's pocket as he snored in a drunken 
 sleep, and played the watch against fifty dollars. 
 Would you believe it? I lost it! It went with the 
 rest. Then Dan looked at me kind of sheepish and 
 said: 
 
 " ' What's the matter with playing your own 
 watch ? ' 
 
 " It was a watch that my brother Harry had won in 
 the army and had sent to me from the South. He 
 won it at a shooting match. Sixty-two men had put 
 up two dollars apiece to buy the watch and then shot 
 for it. He won it, and sent it to me for safe keeping. 
 I told him that it was my brother's watch, but I could 
 not raise another ' ante ' so up it went, to be lost like 
 the rest.
 
 78 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " ' I really pity you,' said Dan, ' I thought you could 
 play cards.' 
 
 " I looked at him a minute, then with a kick roused 
 old Duvall and told him to go to the bank and get 
 some money. It was now ten o'clock Thursday morn- 
 ing. He went willingly, saying that he would break 
 the bank if necessary. He could borrow all he wanted. 
 
 " While old Rudy Duvall was gone for the money, 
 I took out my revolver, the only piece of property that 
 I had left, and laid it upon the table, saying: 
 
 " ' I'll play you this against ten dollars.' 
 
 " ' No, sir ! ' said Dan, rising. ' I've given you every 
 chance, but I've sworn that I'll never play against a 
 revolver. It means bad luck.' 
 
 " ' You'll play against it or I'll play against you ! ' 
 said I, in half-drunken desperation. 
 
 " Dan looked troubled and mad. We neither of us 
 had had a wink of sleep and not much to eat, and the 
 rum was telling on us fearfully. 
 
 " Finally Dan tossed a whiskey-soaked bill on the 
 table and we cut for deal. I won and turned a Jack. 
 Then I made High, Low and the Game, which put my 
 score four to his nothing. I held the ace and the 
 deuce and won the game, which put me out seven to 
 his nothing. Then I played the revolver and the bill 
 against twenty dollars and won. Then I played the 
 whole ' pot ' against forty dollars and won again. My 
 luck had changed. 
 
 " We stopped to eat dinner, which was sent in to 
 us, and old Rudy came in with five hundred dollars 
 that he had borrowed at the bank, but I didn't need it. 
 
 " After dinner we played all day, all that night and 
 all day Friday and Friday night, and all day Saturday.
 
 A DARK PICTURE 79 
 
 " Dan was worn out and demoralised. I had won 
 back all my property, all of the money that I had 
 lost, and during Saturday night and Sunday forenoon 
 I got four hundred and eighty dollars of Dan's cash 
 all he had. He wasn't singing any more or smiling, 
 and apparently didn't care whether Honest Abe was 
 born in Hardin County or in Perry County, and he 
 didn't give a cent who led the Yeomanry. We were 
 a sorry looking pair! Dan's eyes were away back in 
 his head, and mine looked like holes burnt in a blanket. 
 I offered to lend him some money to go home 
 with, but he swore he would walk, and didn't take a 
 cent. 
 
 " The landlady loaned my girl a hat and skirt, and 
 she jumped upon the saddle as fresh as a rose, though 
 I could see that she had been crying. 
 
 " ' Oh, what will Pap say ? ' was all that Phebe said. 
 
 " My ! but the horses were fresh and they laid as 
 straight as foxes all the way home sixteen miles. 
 
 " When we reached Phebe's home I hitched the 
 horses near the door and while Phebe went timidly in 
 I hesitated. Her father came out looking mad and 
 worried, and said : 
 
 ' You needn't have hitched. You can't come in 
 here!' 
 
 " But I walked up to the old man, took his hand 
 and asked him not to condemn me unheard. He lis- 
 tened while I related the whole story just as it hap- 
 pened. When I came to the part where I began to 
 win, he seemed much interested, and when I said that 
 I had won all of Dan Kline's four hundred and eighty 
 dollars, he looked me in the face eagerly and said : 
 
 "'Did you get the money?'
 
 80 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " In reply, I pulled out wads and rolls and handfuls 
 of small bills, and the old man's eyes bulged out. 
 
 " ' Come right in,' he said, ' it's near bedtime ; turn 
 in and have a good sleep. You need it.' 
 
 " We had corn bread and coffee for supper I never 
 tasted anything so good before. 
 
 " The money did me no good ; I never won a dollar 
 that stayed by me and I aged five years that one night." 
 
 This is in part the story of the sad, sad career of 
 this noble man of God. Grace, it would seem to me, 
 never did a more perfect work than in his salvation. 
 I have known him intimately for years. I have never 
 in all my life known one who was so pure, so true, 
 and so Christlike in all his dealings and experiences 
 with his fellow men, as S. H. Hadley. He was saved 
 through and through, he was literally made over by 
 the power of God and what God did for him he can 
 do for anyone who will trust Him. 
 
 The fascination of gambling is something awful, and 
 from this sin S. H. Hadley was completely delivered 
 he hated cards ever after the day he was saved. 
 
 There is really no sin from which Christ cannot 
 completely deliver.
 
 VII 
 OUR FIRST MEETING AND OUR LAST 
 
 MORE than fifteen years ago I was holding 
 a series of meetings in Jersey City, N. J., 
 and when a mutual friend said to me, 
 " How would you like to see the slums of New York? " 
 I answered : " I should be delighted if we could make 
 the journey under the direction of someone who would 
 go with us, not as a matter of curiosity, but with a 
 desire to help the helpless," and my friend, the Rev. 
 B. Fay Mills, said : " I will ask S. H. Hadley to go 
 with us." I had heard his name often before this, but 
 did not know him, in fact I knew little about rescue 
 mission work, and almost nothing about Water Street, 
 except that I had heard, of course, of Jerry McAuley. 
 At ii P. M. we crossed the ferry and came into the 
 city of New York. On a street corner in the lower 
 part of the city, which was then overrun with iniquity, 
 I first saw S. H. Hadley. He was standing under- 
 neath an old-fashioned gas lamp, and his first question 
 addressed to us was : " Where do you want to go, 
 what do you want to see, why are you here ? " Mr. 
 Mills said : " We want to go through the slums ; we 
 would like to see the effects of sin upon a human life, 
 my friend and I only want to go that we may cry 
 out the more vehemently against sin, and work the 
 more faithfully to reclaim the lost." We visited the 
 lodging house in which he was then interested, and I 
 
 81
 
 82 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 was perfectly amazed to see that he had no words but 
 those of kindness for everyone. There were drunken, 
 swearing men about him, but his words were only 
 words of gentleness and love. We made our way to a 
 low-down dance hall, and when the man who was play- 
 ing at the piano stopped, Mr. Hadley began to sing, 
 " Do you know why I love Jesus." Everyone listened 
 to him, most of those present cried with him, and 
 when the song was over he said : " Boys, I was once 
 a drunkard myself, and Jesus saved me. If you ever 
 want a friend, come to Water Street." We made our 
 way into one of the lowest sub-cellars which existed 
 in New York before the Parkhurst crusade. Cursing 
 men and women were on every side of us, some were 
 sleeping, others gambling, some were fighting, the 
 confusion was awful. When Mr. L. B. Greenwood, 
 who was of our party, began to sing, " I was once far 
 away from the Saviour, and as vile as a sinner could 
 be," the shouting ceased, the cursing was hushed, a 
 holy calm settled upon the company and then S. H. 
 Hadley gave his invitation, " Come to Water Street, 
 men and women, and you will always find a friend." 
 
 We made our way into a house of shame, and here 
 Mr. Hadley dropped upon one knee and began to pray. 
 His prayer was to the Saviour who had saved him 
 when he was no better than the women before him, 
 and he begged Him to open their eyes to their sad con- 
 dition, and to save them as He had saved him. He 
 had not uttered half a dozen sentences when the secret 
 of his power was revealed. Every word came straight 
 from his heart with a burning force which seemed to 
 sweep everything before him. Those who heard him 
 knew he meant every word of it. The women gazed
 
 at him with wide open, wondering eyes, for now he 
 was praying for them, and as they listened a softened 
 expression crept over their faces, and the eyes of one 
 young girl in particular drooped and filled with tears. 
 When he raised from the attitude of prayer, he gently 
 put his hand upon her shoulder and said : " My sister, 
 this is an awful life; Jesus saved me from it, and He 
 will save you. Do come to Water Street if you need 
 a friend. Good-bye to you all," and as we passed out 
 of the house the madam who kept it said : " Thank 
 you, sir, you are very good to come and help us." It 
 was by this time two o'clock in the morning, and as 
 we said good-bye it was then that he turned his face 
 and looking full into mine, said : " Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! ! 
 if we could only save these poor people whom Jesus 
 loves ! My brother, never preach anything but the 
 gospel, and a gospel to save such poor lost men and 
 women as we have seen to-night. Good-night," 
 and he limped away in the darkness, leaving us with 
 tear-wet cheeks and hearts burning with a passion to 
 preach the gospel. 
 
 He came to the Pacific coast when we were in the 
 midst of an evangelistic campaign there. Concerning 
 this visit he writes as follows in his last report: 
 
 " My own health has been miserable. Last winter 
 I feared I would break down, but just in the nick of 
 time, Mr. John S. Huyler invited me to go with some 
 friends in his private car to the Pacific coast and back. 
 Just think of it, dear reader, an old drunkard, such as 
 I used to be, who would have been glad in the old life 
 to beat it on a freight car, or as the boys call it, in 
 a side-door Pullman, to be invited by one of the 
 noblest men in this country to make a trip for six
 
 84 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 weeks in his private car, and not cost me a cent! 
 * And no good thing will He withhold from those who 
 walk uprightly.' Mr. Huyler is our greatest friend and 
 stands by us like a rock. Many a drunkard has he 
 brought here who has found salvation." 
 
 I sent him word to come to Oakland for a midnight 
 theatre meeting. He was too lame to walk, of course, 
 and so the committee provided him with a carriage. 
 He headed the midnight procession, and when I en- 
 tered the opera house I found that he had slipped in 
 by the stage door and was ready to speak. He was at 
 his best, although suffering from weakness. He made 
 his appeal and sat down. I felt that possibly someone 
 else might come if I asked them to do so and arose to 
 speak, when I noticed a man of rather distinguished 
 appearance standing on the stage. I beckoned him to 
 take my unoccupied chair while I made the appeal. I 
 had just begun to speak when I overheard the follow- 
 ing conversation: 
 
 " Mr. Hadley, I guess you don't know me, but you 
 know my brothers and my mother. They live in the 
 
 city of D , and my name is K ." I stopped a 
 
 moment, and I heard the great rescue mission worker 
 say : " Are you Jimmie ? " " Yes," said the man with 
 a sob, " I am Jimmie," and as I turned backward to 
 look, S. H. Hadley had his arm about his shoulder 
 and was saying to him, " Why, man, I know your 
 brothers, and your own precious mother told me you 
 were on this coast, and that I might find you. Why 
 not kneel now and let me ask God to save you ? " and 
 while all was hushed in the audience, and every eye 
 riveted upon the two kneeling men, such a prayer was 
 poured out as only S. H. Hadley could offer. He rose
 
 OUR FIRST MEETING AND LAST 85 
 
 from his knees with a shout, and Jimmie, whose 
 mother had prayed for him, and whose heart had al- 
 most broken over him, was converted. It has been 
 said by those who knew, that when she heard of her 
 boy's coming home, she said : " I shall now die in 
 peace," and die she did. Her boy was thoroughly 
 converted, so Mr. Hadley informed me, and will one 
 day meet his mother in the skies. 
 
 The last time I saw Mr. Hadley was in Syracuse, 
 N. Y. I had received a letter from him saying that 
 he was coming up just for a visit, and when I was 
 seated in a room one morning engaged in a confer- 
 ence, I heard him coming. I could heard the thump 
 of his cane on the floor and his peculiar step, which 
 was known to all who loved him. Entering the room 
 he sat down, and the sweetest smile I have ever seen 
 upon a man's face wreathed his as he said : " I have 
 come up just for a few days of rest and to catch the 
 spirit of revival," and he not only caught it, but he 
 gave it to others. He was at his best in his speaking, 
 he thrilled the people with his messages, they laughed 
 and cried and shouted as he addressed them. He ex- 
 pected again to go to the theatre meeting, but he said 
 to Dr. Ostrom, who accompanied him on his last 
 meeting : " I am tired out, and so if you will say 
 good-bye to the people, I will get into the carriage and 
 go to the train. God bless you, dear brother," said he, 
 and was gone.
 
 VIII 
 HIS LAST DAYS 
 
 RETURNING from Syracuse, he made his way 
 to Stamford, Conn., to be the guest of his 
 beloved friend, Mr. Walter M. Smith, one of 
 New York city's prominent business men, for years a 
 trustee at Water Street, and one of the noblest of 
 men. S. H. Hadley loved him. The fellowship of 
 these two chosen servants of Christ was beautiful, 
 never more so than the Sunday they spent together, 
 his last but one upon the earth. 
 
 Sunday afternoon he made an impassioned appeal 
 to the men, speaking with greater force than ever. 
 Sunday evening he addressed the young people in the 
 First Presbyterian Church, Stamford, Conn., and it 
 was most fitting that the last public service he should 
 hold in a church should be in the church of Dr. Ott- 
 man, who had known and loved him for years. From 
 Stamford he returned to New York early Monday 
 morning. At the station he met a man whom he had 
 known in other days, and realising that he was hungry, 
 in a way that was peculiarly his own, he provided food 
 for the one who was in need of it, and then entering a 
 carriage he made his way to a florist's. The daughter 
 of W. M. Smith, whose guest he was over Sunday, 
 was just recovering from an operation and was still 
 in a New York city hospital. Purchasing the flowers 
 he made his way to this hospital. He was not willing 
 
 86
 
 HIS LAST DAYS 87 
 
 that an attendant should carry his offering to the suf- 
 fering one, but made his way into her presence, plac- 
 ing the floral offering before her, with words of cheer 
 and his bright happy smile which always made every- 
 body feel the stronger ; then he set his face towards the 
 old Mission. He took lunch at the Mission ; from one 
 to four, as was his custom, he received those who de- 
 sired to see him. Then hearing that in Bellevue Hos- 
 pital one of the men who had fallen away was just 
 recovering from an attack of delirium tremens, he 
 entered his carriage, and taking with him one of the 
 mission converts, who had not been as kind to the 
 suffering one as he should have been, he made his way 
 to the hospital, which was the scene of so many of his 
 acts of kindness, and speaking kindly to the one in 
 distress and offering up a prayer for his deliverance, 
 he again went back to old Water Street. 
 
 Strangely enough, feeling stronger than usual, that 
 night because there was no leader present, he himself 
 conducted his last Water Street meeting. He spoke 
 on the fifth chapter of Matthew. There were several 
 backsliders present, and he dwelt particularly on the 
 love anJ mercy of God to such. He tried to en- 
 courage them to take a new stand and to trust in 
 God's forgiveness. 
 
 While he was dressing on Tuesday morning, he was 
 suddenly taken ill. The old pain which had so fre- 
 quently distressed him, and for which he had before 
 spent much time in the hospital, came upon him with 
 renewed force. He sent for a physician, who stayed 
 with him through the morning hours and gave him 
 some massage treatment, but the pain steadily in- 
 creased. He took no luncheon, but later on in the day
 
 88 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 made his way to the office of Mr. Walter M. Smith, 
 and said to Mr. Smith and to his partner, Mr. Cutter, 
 " I've come to ask you to help me ; I want your 
 annual subscription, and I won't ask you for any more 
 this year." This was his last appeal for Water Street 
 from any source. The money was given, and this is 
 the final entry on the books of the Mission of his 
 personal collections. How true his message was, that 
 this was the last appeal he would make ! 
 
 On his way to Mr. Smith's office he had stopped at 
 the Southern Railroad office, and had purchased tickets 
 for himself and wife, expecting in a few days to go 
 South. In this Southern trip he was to join me in 
 Dallas, Texas, and I can see him now as he said : " If 
 you will just give me a chance with the drunkards of 
 Dallas, I shall be perfectly happy ; it won't tire me, and 
 it will be a real old-fashioned vacation." 
 
 At five o'clock, feeling that he was growing worse 
 each moment, he telephoned for Mrs. Carrie Besserer, 
 who had for so many years been the object of his 
 special interest, and not only his, but of Mrs. Hadley's. 
 She was counted by them both as their adopted daugh- 
 ter. Mr. Hadley asked her by telephone to come to 
 him quickly. She was in the Tombs on mission work, 
 but came hurriedly and to her he said : " I am going 
 to the hospital, but do not say anything about it." He 
 then went alone up to the room of Mrs. Hadley and 
 said : " Lizzie, I am not well ; I am going up to the 
 hospital and may be gone all night, but I will be back 
 in the morning." He put his bedroom slippers in his 
 pocket and kissing her good-bye made his way down 
 the stairs. On his way he met the cook, Mr. William 
 Quinn, and said also to him : " I am going up to the
 
 HIS LAST DAYS 89 
 
 hospital, but I think I shall be back to-morrow ; good- 
 bye, God bless you." " Are you worse, Mr. Hadley ? " 
 said Quinn, and he hurriedly called Mrs. Lament, the 
 faithful missionary. She came and Mr. Hadley said 
 again : " Do not say anything about this to anyone. 
 Good-bye and God bless you." He limped his way 
 down the stairs with Mrs. Besserer to the carriage that 
 was waiting for them. Five men were standing out- 
 side the Mission, and the last bit of mission work he 
 did was to give help to three of them, and then say to 
 the other two : " Boys, you mustn't stand around like 
 this, go out and try to do something for Jesus." 
 
 He soon reached the hospital, where he was given, 
 not only because of his prominence in Christian work, 
 but because of what he was in himself, the very best 
 of treatment. Mr. John S. Huyler and Mr. Walter 
 M. Smith, his devoted friends, were summoned to his 
 side, and spent the day with him. They earnestly 
 advised him to accept the diagnosis of the surgeons 
 and abide its consequences. The case was diagnosed 
 and an operation seemed imperative. Mr. Hadley was 
 unwilling to take an anaesthetic, because he knew the 
 weakness of his heart, but when his true friends by his 
 side urged him to submit to the doctor's suggestion, he 
 gracefully yielded, and said : " Very well, living or 
 dying, I am the Lord's." The operating physicians 
 were doctors Brown and Elliott, and there also came 
 to stand beside him and give all the help that was pos- 
 sible Dr. Garmany, one of the most distinguished 
 physicians not only in New York, but in the country. 
 He counted it a privilege to give up his great work for 
 the time and assist this poor worn-out missionary, 
 whose joy had been to live for Christ. Strangely
 
 90 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 enough the anaesthetic did not seriously disturb his 
 heart, but his poor body was worn out. He had liter- 
 ally given himself soul and body to Christ, and when 
 the time came for recuperation there was not sufficient 
 physical strength to withstand the awful suffering and 
 the weakness attendant upon the operation. 
 
 Only three of his friends were with him. For 
 three days no one was allowed to see him, but the 
 nurse said that in his delirium he was leading the 
 meetings in Water Street, appealing to the lost to come 
 to Christ, and singing the hymns which were so dear 
 to him and to all the friends of Water Street. He is 
 credited with saying as he was nearing his end, 
 " What will become of my poor bums ? " but so far as 
 we can find out, and after consultation with those 
 who were with him at the last, he did not make use 
 of this expression. He sometimes in a playful joking 
 way spoke of the converts as " bums," and called him- 
 self a " bum," but in his serious, sober moments the 
 converts of Water Street were the noblest men upon 
 earth, and were always spoken of by him as such. He 
 did manifest the deepest concern, not only for the con- 
 verts of the Mission, but for those who were still un- 
 saved, and it is true that his last breath was used to 
 express concern for their safety and hope for their 
 ultimate salvation. 
 
 On February 9, 1906, at 5.30 in the morning, he 
 breathed his last. He slept his way into eternity. 
 From 12 to 4 there was not a struggle, but sleeping 
 sweetly as a child he went into glory. So many times 
 in his sleep the nurse would hear him whispering, and 
 bending over him, she would hear him say, " Precious 
 Jesus ! Precious Jesus ! " When he opened his eyes
 
 HIS LAST DAYS 91 
 
 that morning, it was to look into the face of Him whom 
 not having" seen, he passionately loved. 
 
 When any of his friends were permitted to see him, 
 he never lost an opportunity to send some message to 
 those in whom he was interested. He sent a greeting 
 to me when he feared the end had come, in which he 
 said : " Tell Chapman that I can do more for him at 
 the Throne than I can do here," and I have ever since 
 believed it. When the message was conveyed to me, 
 I sent it on to a mutual friend, Mr. John R. Clements, 
 of Binghamton, N. Y., and he returned it to me with 
 the following: 
 
 " I can do more for him yonder 
 Than I could if I were here." 
 
 Walk we here in Christian service 
 
 Hand with hand, and heart to heart; 
 While the love of Jesus binds us, 
 
 Silken cord that ne'er can part. 
 Reaching out to lift the fallen, 
 
 Speaking words of help and cheer; 
 Striving just to do what Jesus 
 
 Would be doing, were He here. 
 
 CHORUS : 
 
 Passing on ! The workers leave us 
 
 But 'tis only seeming so; 
 Yonder at the throne eternal 
 
 They our trials and struggles know. 
 In the palace-halls of Heaven 
 
 Oft they pray, our hearts to cheer : 
 " I can do more for him yonder, 
 Than I could if I were here."
 
 92 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 In the by-ways, 'mid the hedges, 
 
 In the haunts of vice and sin 
 With a heart of tender pity 
 
 Seeking wretched souls to win; 
 On the heights of worldly splendour 
 
 'Mid its dazzle and its mirth, 
 Holding up " the cross of Jesus " 
 
 Fairest spectacle of earth. 
 
 Here and there, where'er is sorrow, 
 
 Here and there, in paths of woe, 
 With the words of life eternal 
 
 E'er in eagerness to go. 
 In the world so much that's bitter; 
 
 O, so much that's wicked here ! 
 Hands grow weak; the toil is heavy; 
 
 Dimmed the eye with many a tear. 
 
 God, O God of Battles, strengthen 
 
 Every arm that fights in love, 
 Till the last soiled soul immortal 
 
 Sights the gates of peace, above; 
 Then around the throne eternal, 
 
 When the earth has passed away, 
 Will each servant sing of Jesus, 
 
 Through one never-ending day.
 
 IX 
 LOVE 
 
 IN the thirty-eighth chapter of Isaiah and the 
 seventeenth verse, the following words are found, 
 " Thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from 
 the pit." The marginal reading is : " Thou hast loved 
 my soul from the pit." 
 
 A better description of S. H. Hadley could not be 
 given. He was the best exemplification of the love of 
 Christ in his seeking after lost men and caring for 
 them when once they were found of any person I have 
 ever known. Again and again I have heard him say 
 that the reason why Christians so often fail in reaching 
 the lost is that they do not have the spirit of love. The 
 thirteenth chapter of ist Corinthians was his creed 
 and he never was unfaithful to it so far as I know. 
 Men might deceive him, but he would love them ; they 
 might disappoint him, but he \vould still continue to 
 love them ; indeed, the farther one seemed to be away 
 from Christ the more he became the object of the 
 love of this devoted servant of Jesus Christ. He once 
 told me that if he could in any way help to stimulate 
 this spirit throughout the Church we would have such 
 a revival as the world had never seen. 
 
 One of the best illustrations of his spirit along this 
 line is found in his treatment of one who was known 
 as " Bowery Ike." The following has been written 
 by a friend of the Water Street Mission: 
 
 " It was ' Rummy ' who first called Mr. Hadley 's 
 93
 
 94 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 attention to Bowery Ike. That was in September, 
 1884. Ike was one of the most alert thieves in New 
 York. He made it his ' specialty ' to go into buildings 
 where carpenters were at work, and steal the watches 
 from their coats when these were hanging up. In 
 describing his prowess, Rummy said enthusiastically: 
 ' Why, I have known him to swipe eight watches at a 
 time ! Yesterday he got pinched. 'Twas too bad, for 
 he had got a number one gold ticker in his pocket he 
 was going aw r ay with.' 
 
 " The outcome of this was, that Mr. Hadley, ' the 
 friend of the wicked,' went to the Tombs next morn- 
 ing and persuaded the judge to give the thief only six 
 months on the Island. There Mr. Hadley visited the 
 boy many times, and began to like him very much. He 
 interested his wife in his newly found protege, and she 
 began to pray for his redemption. 
 
 " Many people thought she might as well pray for the 
 moon, for Ike was a born thief. He had been arrested 
 many times, and often imprisoned. His only education 
 had been received in the New York Asylum, from 
 whence he escaped. He was a petty sneak-thief. It 
 is harder for a camel to pass through the eye of a 
 needle than for that kind of a thief to reform. 
 
 " When Ike was released Mr. Hadley got him work. 
 He did well, was trusted, and rose to a place of re- 
 sponsibility, where larger or smaller amounts passed 
 through his hands. In this place he did not steal, but 
 the monotony of such a life became intolerable to his 
 active temperament, and one day he disappeared. 
 
 " Some time passed before he came to the surface 
 again as suddenly as he had vanished. He pre- 
 sented himself to Mr. Hadley, asked him for work, and
 
 LOVE 95 
 
 began at the bottom once more. At one time a busi- 
 ness rival of Mr. Hadley hired Ike, thinking he had 
 taken away Mr. Hadley 's ' mascot.' But Ike stole his 
 clothes, his watch, his money, and would have stolen 
 his store if he could. Detectives were employed to 
 hunt him down. Six months after that he came to 
 Mr. Hadley again. 
 
 " ' Ike, why did you rob that man ? ' was the first 
 question. 
 
 " ' Oh/ he said, ' I had to. He watched me.' 
 
 " A great love had sprung up in Mr. Hadley's heart 
 for this poor criminal. He determined to save him, if 
 love and prayer could do it. 
 
 " While serving his time for his last offence Ike 
 promised his benefactor that he would forsake his 
 vicious ways and lead an honest life. He kept his 
 promise. Mr. and Mrs. Hadley had their reward, after 
 the hopes and prayers of years. 
 
 " The redeemed thief gave convincing evidence of a 
 changed purpose in life, and he did not withhold his 
 public testimony. His old chums would drop into the 
 Water Street Mission to make sure that it was Bowery 
 Ike who spoke there, and if he had really stopped steal- 
 ing. The habit of truth-telling came hard to the new 
 convert, and when he transgressed, his deep remorse 
 would cause him to get up in meeting and openly call 
 himself a liar, and then to fully state the truth. But 
 he never stole again, and his life continued clean, al- 
 though his old companions not infrequently urged him 
 to return to the excitements of his former life. 
 
 " He was finally sent to the Moody Bible School in 
 Chicago, where he developed an unusual knowledge 
 of the Bible. He had charge for eighteen months of
 
 96 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 an out-of-door mission in that city. Just as he was 
 ready to return to his Water Street Mission he sud- 
 denly died of heart disease. 
 
 " Bowery Ike's conversion has been considered an 
 unusual case. It took ten years of faithful and prayer- 
 ful effort, under the most discouraging conditions, to 
 lead this apparently hopeless thief into the higher, bet- 
 ter life. It was as much of a miracle as the turning of 
 water into wine, but to call it ' unusual ' is a mistake. 
 Such miracles of transformation are going on con- 
 stantly all around us. There is no life that has ever 
 been lived, or ever will be lived, too vile to be made 
 pure by allegiance to the divine Teacher, to whom 
 poor Ike was led to give his love and the faithful serv- 
 ice of a contrite heart." 
 
 Mr. Hadley was unique in his conduct of a meeting. 
 Fortunately I am able to present in substance what he 
 said to those who were present at the mission on two 
 different occasions. 
 
 " Brethren, there must be a higher principle in re- 
 ligion than feeling. Just as sure as you depend on 
 your feelings, and measure your religion by your feel- 
 ings there will be trouble. Nobody can explain how it 
 is and why it is that the devil, at times, gets such a 
 control of our feelings. But he does and we feel sad 
 and gloomy and unhappy in spite of ourselves, and 
 then look out, for if you think your salvation depends 
 on a happy state of feeling there will be trouble. 
 
 " But oh, brethren, do learn that your faith must be 
 in Jesus and in Him alone. Let this be your song: 
 
 ' ' I dare not trust the sweetest frame 
 But wholly lean on Jesus' name. 
 On Christ the solid rock I stand 
 All other ground is sinking sand.'
 
 LOVE 97 
 
 " Then there will be no trouble when the bad, gloomy 
 feelings come, for your salvation is not feeling, but 
 faith and trust in Christ and his promises. The peace 
 and joy does come. It is a part of the Christian's 
 life, but it is not always overflowing, and indeed while 
 sometimes the joy can hardly be expressed and the 
 ' peace flows like a river,' again there seems no 
 peace, no joy, no light, then trust Jesus. Look up and 
 say, * Dear Jesus, thou art mine and I am thine. I 
 trust thee to keep me in the dark and discouraging 
 hour. 
 
 " Oh, brethren, get beyond the fear of falling. 
 
 " Let the thought never enter your mind. One will 
 say, ' Now if I take that job will I keep sober? Can 
 I stand there ? ' Of course you will stand if you tell 
 everybody what you have been and what Jesus has 
 saved you from. I have never once since the Lord 
 saved me had one thought of taking a drink or going 
 back into sin. But I have been careful to tell every- 
 body what Christ has done for me. Confess Him 
 everywhere ! Oh, brethren ! get on a higher plane." 
 
 In a meeting at the Mission April 24, 1896, he said : 
 " I used to think I would be willing to crawl on my 
 knees all. my lifetime if God would keep me from 
 wanting whiskey. But for fourteen years I have been 
 flying. He don't let us crawl. Oh, dear converts, let 
 Jesus be first and uppermost in thought and life and 
 let all other things trail on after. 
 
 " Fourteen years this morning was my first day a 
 Christian. I prayed at eight o'clock, ' Lord, keep me 
 from drinking and swearing till nine o'clock.' At nine 
 o'clock I prayed, ' Jesus, keep me from drinking and 
 swearing till ten o'clock,' and so on all that first day,
 
 98 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 and there I learned the secret of living and walking 
 with Jesus ; trusting moment by moment. Later I 
 learned there were other sins to be overcome besides 
 drinking and swearing. Never have I from that day 
 wanted or felt the least desire for whiskey or any sins 
 of the old life. For three months I had a job as watch- 
 man at three dollars per week. I often thought, ' Lord, 
 why is it I have to work for wages less than I got 
 when a boy ? ' But now I look back with joy to those 
 three months." 
 
 Another time this was a part of his testimony: 
 
 " The old ship had sunk, but there was a lot of 
 debris floating around, old bedsteads, mattresses, 
 chicken-coops, etc., that would not sink. I was smok- 
 ing and chewing tobacco. The Lord Jesus said, ' Oh, 
 oh, oh, my child ! give it up.' I said, ' Why, Lord, 
 it would kill me ; I would surely die.' 
 
 " Jesus said, ' My child, what have you ever given 
 up for me ? ' I said, ' Nothing, Lord, I never gave 
 up anything for you, and I will give up my tobacco.' 
 And I did it. Then the Lord showed me it was wrong 
 to get mad and I asked him to take the mad out of 
 me and He did that. Hallelujah, what a Saviour! 
 Will I ever forget what Jesus has done for me?" 
 
 It is, however, the universal testimony of those who 
 have been most faithful in their attendance at Water 
 Street, that it was not simply Mr. Hadley's way of 
 saying things, but what he was in himself, that counted 
 with the men who were ready to listen to him. I once 
 heard a man say : " Whatever S. H. Hadley may say, 
 or however he may say it, I know he loves me because 
 I am a lost man." In all my experience as a minister 
 I have never known anyone, I am sure, who was so
 
 LOVE 99 
 
 perfect an illustration of the love of Christ for sinful 
 men as himself, and almost a countless number of 
 people to-day rise up to call him blessed. 
 
 Mr. Hadley was an ordained Methodist minister. 
 He had no training in the schools, but he had a great 
 training in the school of life which so eminently 
 qualified him for work in the Master's vineyard, so 
 the great Methodist Church honoured herself in set- 
 ting him apart in a special manner to do the work 
 of the Master. He was ordained deacon in 1900 and 
 set apart as a minister of the Gospel in 1904. In 
 the Christian Advocate of April 21, 1904, the fol- 
 lowing reference is made to his ordination: 
 
 " A spirited but pleasant discussion took place on 
 the question of granting local elder's orders to S. H. 
 Hadley, the Superintendent of the Water Street Mis- 
 sion. New York East Conference rarely gives ordina- 
 tion to brethren not entering the regular ministry, but 
 in the case of Brother Hadley, such is the interest in 
 his work, and with such favour have his peculiar gifts 
 been honoured, that the most careful and conservative 
 men of the Conference gladly voted him the privi- 
 leges of an elder. The speech of Professor Rice, 
 Chairman of the Board of Examiners, in moving that 
 Brother Hadley be elected to elder's orders was an 
 exquisite piece of special pleading, and the same is 
 true of that of Dr. Buckley. Dr. Downey, Dr. F. M. 
 North, and several others added eloquent tributes to 
 the great work Mr. Hadley is doing, and he was 
 unanimously recommended for ordination." 
 
 Concerning this solemn service, Rev. James M. 
 Buckley, D. D., the distinguished editor of the Chris- 
 tian Advocate, writes as follows:
 
 100 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " The Rev. S. H. Hadley was long a lay member 
 of the Methodist Episcopal Church within the bounds 
 of the New York East Conference. It is the system of 
 the church to make use of the labours of goodly 
 laymen having gifts, grace and usefulness, as (what 
 are called) local preachers. The lowest grade of 
 these is simply the right to preach and to supply pul- 
 pits at the request of pastors, or under the direction 
 of the presiding elders. The next degree is that of a 
 deacon ; a deacon must be ordained and can baptise and 
 assist in the administration of the Lord's Supper, and 
 the third and last is that of elder, who can perform 
 all the functions of a minister. A course of study is 
 marked out for these classes or degrees respectively. 
 Beside the study there must be the reading of several 
 books. The ordination takes place at the session of 
 the Annual Conference. Those who cannot pass the 
 examinations are so reported to the Conference and 
 usually they are not ordained. But at all times useful 
 men sound in faith, with a fair acquaintance with 
 doctrine and discipline, are dealt with considerately. 
 
 " When Mr. Hadley's case came up the Committee 
 had to report him deficient in some of the studies and 
 as not having read all the books. He did not reach 
 the minimum mark on a scale of ten. The Conference 
 sympathetically smiled, and one man asked if ' we 
 were going to let down the bars, disregard our rules, 
 etc.' This was not raised very seriously and several 
 spoke of Mr. Hadley's work, his piety, his common 
 sense, his soundness in the faith, and the blessing of 
 God upon his labours, and all, including Professor 
 William North Rice, the Chairman of the Committee 
 of Examination, favoured his passage with the result
 
 LOVE 101 
 
 that it was unanimously voted, and he was duly or- 
 dained. The rumour that there were objections and 
 a great opposition overcome with much difficulty was 
 baseless." 
 
 I have no question at all but that in thus solemnly 
 setting apart S. H. Hadley to the work of the ministry, 
 the Methodist Church gave to the world one of her 
 most distinguished sons, and I am very sure that the 
 action must have had the approval of the great head 
 of the church.
 
 r x 
 
 WATER STREET MISSION 
 
 THE founder of the Water Street Mission, 
 Jerry McAuley, was born in Ireland in 1837. 
 He came to this country at the age of thir- 
 teen years and was brought up in the Fourth Ward 
 by his grandmother. He soon got beyond her control 
 and became a thief. At the age of nineteen he was sen- 
 tenced to Sing Sing prison for a term of fifteen years 
 and six months. In the Prison Chapel one Sunday 
 morning " Awful " Gardner, a noted prize fighter and 
 an all round ruffian whom Jerry had known prior to 
 going to prison, was preaching. Gardner had been 
 converted. When Jerry heard him he said, " That 
 man is honest." He was deeply convicted of his sin 
 and in his cell towards evening the light broke in upon 
 him and he found Jesus, but after his testimonial, pos- 
 sibly because of lack of special assistance, certainly in 
 part because of great temptation, he fell. This was 
 repeated several times, but at last he was brought to 
 Christ and the great Mission was established in 1872. 
 
 Concerning this Mission Dr. Arthur T. Pierson 
 writes as follows: 
 
 " No. 316 Water Street, New York, is almost ex- 
 actly underneath the western approach to the great 
 suspension bridge which spans the East River. Any 
 night of the year a good-sized room may there be 
 found, full of men, who, for the most part, are ob- 
 viously poor, given to drink and other vices; and 
 
 102
 
 02 
 
 g 
 
 tf 
 
 H 
 03 
 
 tf
 
 WATER STREET MISSION 103 
 
 many faces bear the marks of crime. A few seem to 
 have the black brand of Cain. The tramp and pauper, 
 the pickpocket and river thief, the besotted sailor and 
 highway robber, the procurer to lust and the blatant 
 blasphemer every class of the worst men and women 
 find their way there, and one may there speak to from 
 two hundred to three hundred of these victims of 
 want, woe, and vice. On one night of the week these 
 hundreds are freely fed with good bread and coffee, 
 as well as with the Bread of Life. The Gospel is sung 
 with rousing effect, brief and simple Gospel talks in- 
 terspersed, and an after-meeting always follows for 
 prayer and testimony, and hand-to-hand touch with 
 inquirers. 
 
 " For over a quarter of a century, night after night 
 in hot and cold weather, in wet and dry, with no de- 
 pendence but faith in God, with no recompense but 
 the wages of soul winners, his work has gone on, at 
 times scarce surviving for want of funds and popular 
 sympathy, yet always outliving any threatened danger 
 of collapse, because God is behind it." 
 
 Thirty-four years ago, 316 Water Street was in the 
 very core of the most villainous slum region in 
 America. No man's life was safe in the vicinity after 
 dark. Not a policeman could be induced to visit the 
 locality unless armed to the teeth and accompanied by 
 a brother officer. Every place that was not a saloon 
 was a dance house, gambling den or a bagnio. A 
 block away was Kit Burns' rat pit, where Kit's illus- 
 trious son-in-law, " Jack-the-Rat," used to bite a live 
 rat's head off every night and pass the hat through 
 the crowd for a collection. 
 
 Prize fights occurred nearly every night, and many
 
 104 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 fights took place in which there was no prize save 
 black eyes and broken bones. Assassination, robbery, 
 suicide, lust and every form of crime known to dark- 
 ness thrived like snakes in a tropical forest. 
 
 One day a missionary named Little invaded the 
 neighbourhood and was confronted on a stairway by a 
 drunken woman who wanted to fight. " Do you know 
 Jesus ? " asked the missionary by way of diverting the 
 issue. "Faith, an' who is Jesus?" demanded the 
 woman. Near by lay a bundle of rags within which 
 was a human being. " What's that yez says ? " de- 
 manded the rags, rising to their feet. The apparition 
 was Jerry McAuley, drunkard, thug, thief, and ex- 
 convict, who had just been pardoned out of Sing 
 Sing, where he had been sentenced to nineteen years' 
 imprisonment. Jerry had been converted in prison 
 through the preaching of " Awful " Gardner, his prize- 
 fighting pal, who had been converted before him ; but 
 Jerry had fallen back into the gutter before he had 
 learned his first prayer. 
 
 Five times Jerry backslid to the depths, but he finally 
 reached firm ground and began his work of helping 
 others. His modest efforts attracted the attention of 
 a few such men as A. S. Hatch, the banker, who gave 
 him assistance. Shortly the old rookery at 316 Water 
 Street was transformed from a dance house into a 
 mission with Jerry in charge. That was the begin- 
 ning of a movement that has worked miracles in the 
 slums of the continent. The influence of the mission 
 has been marvellous. One night old John Jaeger, a 
 drunken Dutch anarchist, who couldn't speak Eng- 
 lish and who couldn't read any language whatever, 
 staggered into Jerry's mission. Though he could not
 
 WATER STREET MISSION 105 
 
 understand a word that was said, he was converted. 
 Soon the anarchist opened a mission of his own. He 
 called it the Mission of the Living Waters, and it was 
 located at 136 Christie Street. The Mission is there 
 yet and so is the " anarchist," now one of the best- 
 known mission workers in New York. 
 
 One night John H. Wyburn, a young man who had 
 seen better days, was on a frightful " tear " with one 
 of Jerry's back-slidden converts. The convert sent 
 Wyburn around to " strike " Superintendent Hadley 
 for a loan of ten dollars. He did not get the ten dol- 
 lars, but he " got salvation." This man Wyburn is 
 now acting Superintendent of the Water Street 
 Mission. 
 
 Years ago a dilapidated drunken tramp printer, 
 wearing an old linen duster, staggered into the Mc- 
 Auley Mission. The man was in a deplorable condi- 
 tion. The duster was frozen to his body. His feet 
 were almost bare on the snow and ice. To-day that 
 dilapidated creature is one of the most successful slum 
 workers in Canada, and Superintendent of the Old 
 Brewery Mission of Montreal. 
 
 Many years ago Colonel Henry H. Hadley was on 
 one of his tremendous periodical " sprees." He had 
 commanded a regiment in the Civil War and was a 
 man of ability, but rum was his master. After gorg- 
 ing himself with fifty-two drinks in a single day, he 
 wandered into Jerry's mission, where he was con- 
 verted. To-day, the name of Henry H. Hadley is 
 known wherever rescue missions are known. 
 
 Then there was " old John Wood," a sailor who was 
 drummed out of the United States navy on account 
 of chronic alcoholism. One dark night the poor sot
 
 106 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 wound up a frightful debauch by starting down to- 
 wards the East River to drown himself. He heard 
 the singing in " old Water Street," went in, and came 
 out a new man. A few years ago this John Wood, 
 superintendent of the mission of the Brooklyn Navy 
 Yard, died at his post, and is remembered as the 
 originator of Christian Endeavor work in the navy 
 of the United States. 
 
 One night many years ago, Mrs. E. M. Whittemore 
 and her husband, Sidney Whittemore, came down to 
 Water Street Mission, " just to see what was going 
 on." They belonged to the best society of New York 
 and wanted to find some new sensation. Both were 
 converted; and that dark night was the beginning of 
 the " Door of Hope," which now has rescue missions 
 in nearly every State in the Union, and most of the 
 large cities, for this same Mrs. Whittemore organised 
 that movement." 
 
 Out of the Water Street Mission has also grown 
 the rescue work which is under the direction of the 
 Methodist Church Extension Society in the City of 
 New York. This work is located on the Bowery. 
 The meetings were formerly conducted in what was 
 known as " Wesley Hall," but since Mr. Hadley's 
 death the name has been changed to " Hadley Hall." 
 The superintendent in charge is Rev. John Callahan, 
 a devoted friend of Mr. Hadley's and one of the truest 
 rescue mission workers in the world. As a matter of 
 fact the influence of the McAuley Mission has been 
 world wide. 
 
 Concerning his call to Water Street Mr. Hadley 
 writes as follows : 
 
 "On May 30, 1886, I took charge of the Water
 
 WATER STREET MISSION 107 
 
 Street Mission. Never shall I forget that day! After 
 struggling for nearly two years after my conversion, 
 I had finally gotten into a profitable business with an 
 income of $2,500 a year, and with good prospects of 
 a permanent future. 
 
 " I considered the call to the work in Water Street 
 the most important a man could have, and my wife 
 and I spent many days in prayer. Strange to say, we 
 both got our answer reading the Scripture, Isaiah Iviii. 
 3-12. 
 
 " Friends of the Mission decided to give us a great 
 send-off. From the parlours I could look down into 
 the room. It was filled with well-dressed people, Mr. 
 R. Fulton Cutting presiding. When I saw the crowd 
 I was frightened. I went into my bedroom and 
 dropped on my knees and said : 
 
 ' ' Lord, if you have really called me to this work, 
 give me one soul.' 
 
 " How often have I thought of that prayer since. 
 I could as well have had a score of souls. The meet- 
 ing went on. At the close I gave the invitation, 
 saying : 
 
 ' Is there one man here who would like to come 
 to Christ? ' One, and only one, raised his hand. The 
 Lord did the best He could, according to my faith. 
 He gave me the biggest bum and drunkard in the 
 house. He sat on the last seat by the door, as he was 
 too drunk to get any further. 
 
 " One of my friends had found him the night before 
 in a stale beer dive in Mulberry Bend, and had asked 
 him to come down. 
 
 " ' Give me fifteen cents and I'll come,' said he. My 
 friend gave him the fifteen cents, and after spending
 
 108 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 it for whiskey, two drinks for five cents, and all the 
 rest he could get, he came in very drunk. I said: 
 
 " ' If there are any needy souls, come up here.' He 
 started, but was so drunk he fell to the floor. Ready 
 hands helped him to the front. He was a fearful look- 
 ing object, six feet four inches high, weighing 260 
 pounds, and had on only two garments, such as they 
 were, an old pair of breeches tied around him with a 
 piece of clothes line, and a jumper, both too short, 
 there being a wide space between the two where there 
 was nothing but the bare skin. 
 
 " The ladies gave him all the room he wanted to 
 kneel in. My wife, Mrs. Sherwood, our missionary, 
 and also Mrs. Stephen Merritt, who were present, 
 knelt with him and prayed. Hundreds of times have I 
 heard him tell the story in his broad Scotch dialect: 
 : ' I came in drunk and I went out sober, and the 
 best of it is, I've been sober ever since. Whatever 
 prayer it was I made that night I don't remember, but 
 the Lord heard it, and the best of it is, He has an- 
 swered it ever since. I was not fit to sleep in a bed 
 that night. No lodging house would have kept me, 
 so I went to Shinbone Alley in Bleecker Street and 
 took the soft side of a truck. I went to work in a few 
 days carrying a hod.' 
 
 " He was known at that time as ' Scottie the Bum.' 
 Born in Glasgow, he was a drunkard from youth, and 
 before he was seventeen years old he was committed 
 to prison for drunkenness. He was sent to America, 
 as so many drunkards are, and wandered all over the 
 country drinking rum, walking ties when he could not 
 ride a freight train, sinking lower and lower in the 
 clutches of whiskey, until he was found by my friend.
 
 WATER STREET MISSION 109 
 
 He secured work at carrying a hod. He joined the 
 Tile-layers Helpers' Union after he got work, and soon 
 became the treasurer. He was the doorkeeper in the 
 Central Labor Union for years on Sunday afternoons. 
 Finally he was chosen walking delegate, and for seven 
 years was elected every six months. 
 
 " He formed one of the Board of Walking Dele- 
 gates of the Trades Union of New York. ' Big 
 Jim,' as he came to be called in those days, helped set- 
 tle some of the biggest strikes in New York City by 
 his manly, candid truthfulness and hard Scotch com- 
 mon sense. He was finally elected Grand Marshal of 
 the Labor Day Parade, and rode down Broadway on 
 a big bay horse at the head of fifteen thousand of the 
 best workmen in New York. He married a Christian 
 woman from the Florence Crittenton Mission. 
 
 " Wishing to find other employment, he went to 
 work for the City and Suburban Homes Company, 
 and from a humble position he has, by his sterling in- 
 tegrity, worked his way up, until he is now one of 
 the superintendents, having a lot of men under him 
 and many houses to care for. He also has a home of 
 his own." 
 
 Instead of " Scottie the Bum," or " Big Jim," he 
 has been known and loved for years as Mr. J. C. 
 Edwards. 
 
 Mr. Hadley was always more than generous in his 
 appreciation of his assistants, and concerning his 
 helpers in Water Street he gave this testimony: 
 
 " I have been unusually blessed with co-workers 
 since I came here. Mrs. Sarah Sherwood was with 
 us for ten years after we came to Water Street - 
 Mother Sherwood, as we all called her. Probably this
 
 110 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 woman has shaken hands with more drunkards than 
 any other woman in this city. She was of a distin- 
 guished Connecticut family. Two of her brothers have 
 been governors of their native State. 
 
 " The converts of the Mission who knew Mrs. Sher- 
 wood will never forget her. She helped to bear their 
 sorrows, and to share their joys. They all leaned on 
 her in time of trouble, and backsliders always found 
 in her a willing ear and a heart full of sympathy. At 
 the same time, she dug them out, and if they were 
 living on false hopes she was quick to detect it. No 
 one could more lovingly or skilfully uncover a liar 
 or a fraud than she could, and after doing so no one 
 would stand by them more lovingly and faithfully, 
 helping them to right the wrong. Her sweet and 
 gracious presence was well known in all the dens and 
 dives about here, and when she entered a saloon or 
 house of evil resort the swearing and vile talk in- 
 stantly ceased and the barkeeper would not wait on 
 customers while the ' mission lady ' was present. She 
 procured hundreds of dollars from the merchants in 
 the lower part of the city, and so amiable was her 
 manner that invitations were extended to her to come 
 again, and she was not slow to accept them. 
 
 " Mr. Franklin Smith was also with us all this time 
 a tender, modest, lovable man, mighty in faith and 
 prayer. He never knew the evils of drink, but sym- 
 pathised deeply with those who did. He died shortly 
 after Mrs. Sherwood. 
 
 " Mrs. Mary W. Bentley was also a missionary for 
 some five years. She lived here, and her love and faith 
 for lost men and women was boundless. I never 
 saw her out of patience. She was drawn to men
 
 WATER STREET MISSION 111 
 
 only because they were sinners sinking down to de- 
 struction and needed a friend. She was a great suf- 
 ferer for months before her death, but always prayed 
 for us to the last, and sent messages of love to those 
 whom she loved and had led to Jesus. 
 
 " A book could be written of either of these de- 
 voted Christian lives. The ladies had ample means 
 to support themselves, but chose to come here and 
 work, because here is where the sinners come, and 
 here is where they can be reached. 
 
 " Our present missionary, Mrs. Lida M. Lamont, 
 our faithful and tireless friend, has been with us for 
 over five years. My beloved wife and Mrs. Lamont 
 are the only ladies who live in the building. 
 
 " One of my assistants for five years was Mr. Harry 
 E. Prentice, a redeemed man from England, who about 
 six years ago went into business life ; but he still 
 holds his connection with us, and often leads our 
 meetings on Sunday evenings. 
 
 " Our present assistant is Mr. John H. Wyburn, 
 who was saved in this Mission, while very drunk, 
 many years ago. Three years of this time he was 
 Superintendent of the Bowery Mission, and we are 
 thankful to have him here now, and we trust that he 
 will remain as long as we do." 
 
 Special mention should be made of another helper 
 of Mr. Hadley's in the person of the pianist, Mr. 
 Squires, a salesman in Tiffany's great jewelry estab- 
 lishment ; for years there has scarcely been a mission 
 service held that he has not presided at the piano in a 
 masterful way. 
 
 Out from this Mission with such a leader and such 
 a band of consecrated workers has gone a stream of
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 influence which is as wide as the world in its sweep. 
 S. H. Hadley may be dead, but the Scripture is ab- 
 solutely true, " He being dead yet speaketh." 
 
 One of the features of Water Street Mission is the 
 Thursday evening meeting, when there is a great feast 
 spread for the hungry. This is made possible through 
 the generosity of John S. Huyler, one of New York's 
 most prominent business men, trustee of the Mission, 
 and one of the best friends Mr. Hadley has ever had. 
 The following description was given of the Thursday 
 night service in one of the newspapers: 
 
 " At six o'clock the room was full and after seven 
 there was not an empty seat. At this hour half a 
 dozen of the leader's assistants disappeared and in a 
 few moments re-entered, bearing aloft large wooden 
 trays piled high with sandwiches. Two hundred pairs 
 of eyes brightened instantly and two hundred pairs of 
 lips grew parched with anxiety. They were the most 
 generous sandwiches that the mind of man ever con- 
 ceived. The sandwiches disappeared like dew before 
 the morning sun. Cup after cup of the very best 
 coffee was drained to the very dregs. The men then 
 settled back with an air of comfort after they had 
 picked the last crumbs from their worn knees and not 
 a single man left the room when the leader of the meet- 
 ing opened the gospel meeting. All this time an un- 
 assuming gentleman had occupied a seat among those 
 on the platform. He it was who had provided the 
 supper for the men, and who does it every Thursday 
 night. His name is known the world over, but no 
 schoolgirl, munching Huyler's chocolates and bon- 
 bons, ever enjoyed them as much as those poor men 
 the sandwiches and coffee which his generosity had 
 provided."
 
 XI 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 
 
 I WAS one day sitting with Mr. Hadley on the 
 piazza, of my home in the country. He was read- 
 ing a New York paper when suddenly he said, 
 dropping the paper in his lap, " Can I send a telegram 
 from here quickly ? " and I said, " Certainly." He 
 wrote out his message on a piece of paper and I sent 
 it over the telephone to the telegraph office in the near- 
 by town. He had read in the paper the story of a poor 
 fallen girl who had come to the end of her sad career 
 and without friends to mourn over her or to bury her, 
 she had been sent to the Morgue, of all the places in 
 the world the most desolate. Tears stood in the eyes 
 of the great soul winner as he wrote his message. It 
 was sent to one of his assistants in New York and was 
 to the effect that the body of the poor lost girl was to 
 be taken from the Morgue and carried to Water Street. 
 She was to be furnished, at the expense of Mr. Had- 
 ley, with a coffin and a shroud, and the Mission 
 Workers were asked to gather around her poor worn 
 out body to read God's Word, sing the hymns of the 
 church and cry over her misspent life. This was the 
 spirit of S. H. Hadley always. 
 
 He used frequently to make his way through the 
 hospitals of New York City, especially in the wards 
 where the poor and outcast were suffering, and when- 
 ever he found one who was near the end and was
 
 114 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 friendless, he left special instructions that he was to 
 be notified when their death occurred, and they too 
 would be carried to the Mission and given just such a 
 burial as their own loved ones might have wished had 
 they known that their life journey was ended. 
 
 One day in passing through a hospital the following 
 sad experience was brought to his attention. It was, 
 however, but one of a multitude of experiences all of 
 which always filled his great heart with anguish; 
 nevertheless, like his Master he went on to do the 
 will of his Father and delighted to spend and be 
 spent in the service of others. 
 
 " We were obliged," he said, " to go through the 
 dead-house belonging to Bellevue Hospital a day or 
 so ago. A friend had died in Bellevue and we were 
 going to bring her out for burial. We noticed a party 
 of women, three in number, who were evidently look- 
 ing for a relative whom they hoped yet dreaded to find. 
 There was no mistaking the character of the elder 
 woman. She was over fifty, and of undoubted re- 
 spectability. The other two ladies seemed to be friends, 
 but we felt sure this was a mother seeking a child. 
 No one else could stay so long in that dreadful house 
 of death. She walked through the morgue and looked 
 into the faces of all who lay there, then she walked 
 down through the long, low, dead house which is built 
 over the river. But little idea could be gained of this 
 horrible task by reading this article. The attendants 
 were very polite, and rendered all the aid in their 
 power. One by one cloths were removed until she had 
 looked carefully at all the faces. Was she looking for 
 a daughter? Yes, she was. She was almost sure the 
 woman whom she read of, who had committed suicide,
 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 115 
 
 was her daughter. ' There is another small room,' 
 said the attendant ; ' just stay here, madam, a moment,' 
 and taking a man he disappeared into another build- 
 ing. Pretty soon they returned carrying between them 
 a half-bent form covered with a black cloth. As soon 
 as the cloth was removed from the face of the dead 
 woman a shriek went up that the writer will remem- 
 ber to his dying day. ' Oh, Mary ! Mary ! ' said the 
 poor heart-broken mother, ' is it thus I meet you ? Oh, 
 my God, I can't bear this. Oh, Mary, Mary, is it 
 possible this is you ! ' And so she went on ; and with 
 a bursting heart she tried to throw herself on the slab 
 which held the lifeless, though disfigured body of her 
 lost, wayward girl. The story was soon learned. It 
 could almost be told in one word, RUM. Some devil 
 in human shape had taught her to drink, then ruin and 
 disgrace followed. Then despair and death closed the 
 scene. We would prefer, though, to take our chances 
 as Mary before the great Judge, a thousand times, 
 than the wretch who sold her the liquor." 
 
 Experiences like this were common with this dear 
 servant of Christ. 
 
 There have been some notable funerals at Water 
 Street ; possibly one of the most striking was held in 
 1892. 
 
 BILLY KELLY'S FUNERAL 
 
 In the big room of the Jerry McAuley Mission at 
 316 Water Street there lay in state the body of Billy 
 Kelly, gambler, faro dealer, barkeeper, drunkard, and 
 all-around sport, reformed a year before his death and 
 become one of the most respected members of the 
 mission.
 
 116 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 The hard wooden benches in the little building were 
 crowded with reformed outcasts and outcasts beyond 
 all hope of reform. On one side of the coffin sat 
 Billy's three children, Florence, Tiny, and William, 
 Jr. On the other side were some of Kelly's old com- 
 panions, among them the gambler Tom Jolly, with his 
 wife and Mr. and Mrs. " The " Allen. 
 
 More than once during the brief and simple cere- 
 mony the famous dive keeper furtively wiped his eyes 
 and coughed with suspicious huskiness. About the 
 coffin were wreaths of white and pink roses, while on 
 it lay a great mass of white lilies. 
 
 On the coffin plate was inscribed the name of Wil- 
 liam Kelly, with the date of his death on April 9, 1892, 
 at the age of forty-seven years. 
 
 After Mr. Hadley had announced that the funeral 
 procession would start from the Mission at 12 o'clock 
 noon, and the interment would be in Long Island City, 
 he asked for remarks from those who were friends of 
 the dead man. " Let's hear from the Captain," sug- 
 gested someone, and in response a short, thick-set 
 man, whose sunburned face terminated in a bristly 
 grey beard, arose in his place, and spoke: 
 
 " I remember well the night Billy Kelly first came in 
 here fourteen months ago," he said, in a voice that 
 trembled slightly. " I had just got into port from a 
 long voyage and had come into the dear old Mission. 
 Billy came stumbling in, a terrible wreck of what 
 must have been a fine-looking man. I could see that 
 he was on the edge of delirium tremens. He asked 
 if he could get some soup there. I told him that he 
 could after the services. ' I'm hungry,' he says, ' and 
 I haven't a cent. For the last week I've been in hell.
 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 117 
 
 Some don't believe in hell, but I've been there, been 
 there with the drink on me, so that when I closed my 
 eyes all the torture of a man dead and damned was 
 in me. God help me! I don't dare sleep for fear of 
 what comes on me when I'm asleep. It's three days 
 now since my eyes were closed.' 
 
 " ' God help you,' says I. ' Pray to Him.' He went 
 forward to the front, and I'll never forget the look 
 on his face when he kneeled. ' Oh, God ! ' he says, 
 ' give me sleep, sleep, only sleep and rest from the hell 
 that's in me.' We all prayed for him, and that night 
 he slept. After that he gave up the drink, and was 
 one of us until death." 
 
 There were other remarks from members of the 
 mission, showing how the dead man had been loved 
 by all his comrades, and at the end Jim Dixon, a re- 
 formed sport and gambler, got up on his feet. 
 
 " You all knew Billy when he was in the mission," 
 he said. " You know how good a man he was when 
 he was reformed. But I knew the good that was in 
 him when he was at his worst. Man and boy, for 
 twenty odd years, I've lived with him, eaten with him, 
 drank and gambled and starved with him. He was 
 my partner through thick and thin, and all of you 
 who've been gamblers and drunkards and lived up and 
 down by your wits know what that means. I've seen 
 him when he was in luck with five thousand dollars 
 in his pocket, and the next week he was in Bellevue 
 with the blue devils at his throat. When he got out 
 he pawned his shoes and shirt for money to buy a 
 drink, and one night when he was down to his last two 
 dimes I saw him give away half what he had to a girl 
 he used to know who was without money. Billy would
 
 118 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 have gone without dinner or bed that night if I hadn't 
 found him. That's the kind of a man he was, ready 
 always to share up with anyone worse off than him- 
 self. When he joined the Mission I'd been in hard 
 luck, but had just struck a job dealing faro. I used to 
 go and see him, but he wouldn't drink with me. 
 Finally I asked him what was up with him, and he 
 said, ' Jim, I've joined the Mission, and I'm a better 
 man for it. I want you to come in too.' Well, I 
 thought about it and six months ago I joined. That's 
 one of the many things that Billy did for me. But 
 what I remember in him is that when he was in the 
 Mission and I was still a gambler and drinker, he 
 never went back on me. Billy and I were partners to 
 the end." 
 
 After the speaking was over some hymns were sung 
 and the meeting broke up. " The " Allen, who had 
 declined to speak in the meeting, was walking out 
 when he caught sight of " Tiny " Kelly, the dead 
 man's thirteen-year-old daughter. The ex-dive keeper 
 walked up and put his hand, which trembled slightly, 
 on the girl's shoulder. 
 
 " My child," he said, " your father was a man to 
 remember. It took better than me to save him from 
 himself, but if I couldn't do for him, perhaps I can do 
 for his children. If ever you are in need, you or your 
 brother or sister, come to me. While I have anything 
 Billy Kelly's children can call on me. 
 
 " Billy Kelly," continued " The " Allen, turning to 
 the crowd which had collected, " was one of the few 
 men I knew that I could trust. My life hasn't made 
 me trustful of men. For four years I haven't walked a 
 block in the street in company with any man. I go
 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 119 
 
 my way alone, and other men can go theirs. But I 
 didn't feel so towards Billy. I knew the house where 
 he was born down on Carmine street, near Bleecker. 
 I knew the boy and the man, and when he came to 
 work for me I've been away and left $20,000 in his 
 hands without fear many a time. Gambler and sport 
 and drunkard he was, but he never was accused of a 
 crime, and through his life he was clean-handed. Then 
 he took to the drink. I tried to stop him. He was 
 working for me in Bleecker street then. The drink 
 had a hold on him, and he couldn't stop. I had to dis- 
 charge him, but we were always friends, and I was 
 glad when Billy joined the Mission and reformed." 
 
 As he finished speaking his voice was uncertain and 
 tears were in his eyes. 
 
 FROM GUTTER TO GLORY 
 
 Many strange and pathetic scenes have been wit- 
 nessed in the old McAuley Mission down in Water 
 Street, in the old Fourth Ward of New York City, 
 but perhaps nothing could better illustrate the charac- 
 ter of this work for saving poor lost souls than what 
 took place some little time ago in that old haven. 
 On stools in front of the platform rested a coffin, a 
 very respectable one, too, with three massive silver 
 handles on each side. A floral anchor lay in the cen- 
 tre, and at the foot was a sheaf of wheat. Inside the 
 coffin lay the body of " Old Pop Lloyd." The face 
 was peaceful and serene ; there was no indication of 
 the tempestuous life through which he had passed, 
 but the look of calm repose spoke in eloquent tones, 
 " Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
 
 120 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 death, I will fear no evil ; for Thou art with me ; Thy 
 rod and Thy staff they comfort me." On the platform 
 was W. W. Bowdish, pastor of old John Street Meth- 
 odist Church, " Old Pop's " pastor ; also the Rev. 
 Stephen Merritt, a dear friend of the Mission. The 
 chapel was filled with mourners, converts of the Mis- 
 sion mostly. They were a grand set of men who had 
 learned to love " Old Pop," and nearly everyone had 
 come in the place just as he had, drunkards and home- 
 less outcasts. 
 
 Many years ago " Pop Lloyd " came into the Mis- 
 sion one night and took a seat on the back bench. He 
 was 72. years old, covered with rags and dirt and 
 vermin, bent nearly double, and had not slept in a bed 
 for weeks. 
 
 When the invitation was given to those who wished 
 to seek the Saviour in the pardon of their sins, Mrs. 
 Sarah Sherwood, the missionary, spoke to him and 
 invited him forward. He asked her if she thought 
 there was any hope for the worst man in New York. 
 She said, " Yes ; whosoever would might come." He 
 came and was soundly converted to God. From that 
 night he never touched whiskey or tobacco, which for 
 years had been his chief articles of diet. 
 
 " Old Pop " had been a great character in his day. 
 He was born on the high seas, and continued to rove 
 them most all his early life, and once had the reputa- 
 tion of being a pretty successful buccaneer. He was 
 once transported to Van Diemen's Land for ten years, 
 and while in Australia was to be hung for murder, 
 but made his escape. He had been quite well-to-do, 
 and sailed his own vessel out of this port. 
 
 For the last three years of his life he could do noth-
 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 121 
 
 ing, and was a charge on the Mission ; kind friends, 
 with the aid of John Street Church, contributing to 
 his support. He had drunk so much bad rum his 
 vocal chords were burnt out and he could scarcely 
 make himself understood, but he would often give 
 his testimony in pantomime, stooping down low to 
 show how the devil had him bent over when he came 
 in the Mission, and then raising himself up erect to 
 show how Christ took the load off a man's back and 
 soul. 
 
 At seven o'clock in the morning he would come in 
 the Mission and remain there all day. They would take 
 him down three square meals each day, as his limbs 
 were too weak to carry him upstairs. Many a time 
 has the writer seen him give his meal to some poor 
 tramp who had slipped in the door, much as a stray 
 cat would do, looking for something to eat. No mat- 
 ter who they were, " Pop " would share his meal with 
 them if they were hungry. 
 
 A few evenings before his death he arose with great 
 difficulty and said, though he felt unworthy, he could 
 say God was keeping him. 
 
 COLONEL ATKINSON 
 
 Here is Mr. Hadley's story of the Colonel: 
 " He was without doubt the most thorough-paced 
 tramp that ever came into our old Mission, where 
 the lost congregate in such numbers. No pen can 
 adequately describe him, but we may be able to give a 
 faint idea of how he looked. He was over six feet 
 tall and sixty years old, but he looked a hundred. His 
 beard was a dirty grey and a foot long. His hair, the 
 same colour, hung down his back for a like length. His
 
 122 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 eyes were bleared and the hue of his face showed that 
 water and he had long been strangers. He had on a 
 ragged old overcoat, probably picked out of some ash 
 barrel, and fastened with a nail ; an old coat and vest 
 completed his wardrobe. Of course, he had neither 
 a shirt nor undershirt. His trousers were simply in- 
 describable ; they consisted of holes tied up with strings 
 and a little cloth here and there. On his feet were 
 pieces of carpet wrapped up with strings. 
 
 " I had known him for years as a common beggar. 
 It was thirteen years ago last June when he came to 
 see me one Sunday night, and he stood up for prayer 
 in the middle of the service. Peering forward, he 
 asked if I was present, and when I said, ' Yes/ he 
 said, ' Mr. Hadley, pray for me. I am contrite.' At 
 the invitation he came up with twenty others and 
 prayed like a man in dead earnest. When we rose 
 from our knees he stood up and said, ' Well, I am 
 saved ! There is no doubt about it.' At the close of 
 the service he put his arm around my neck and said : 
 " ' Brother Hadley, what ye going to give me ? ' 
 " ' Oh,' said I, ' you will get a night's lodging.' 
 "'Yes/ said he, 'that's right; what else?' 
 " ' I will give you a quarter for your breakfast/ 
 said I. 
 
 " ' That's right/ said he again, ' that's right. I al- 
 ways knowed you was a Christian/ and with his quar- 
 ter and a ticket for bed, he tottered off. 
 
 " As he left me he said, ' I'll come every night.' ' Oh, 
 
 don't/ I said, ' just come occasionally.' But he said 
 
 again, ' Yes, Brother Hadley, I'll come every night/ 
 
 " Who was this man ; this finished work of Satan's 
 
 cruel power? He was from one of the best Ohio
 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 123 
 
 families ; from a wealthy, prosperous Christian home. 
 After college he studied law in the office of Edwin M. 
 Stanton, the great War Secretary under Lincoln. He 
 married and began to practise law, but in college he 
 had learned to drink whiskey. He entered the army 
 at the outbreak of the war, served through that fear- 
 ful struggle with credit, and was mustered out a 
 colonel of cavalry in an Illinois regiment, but a con- 
 firmed drunkard. He tried to struggle against that 
 deadly habit which had securely fastened itself upon 
 him, but it was useless. At last, when home was 
 destroyed and wife and children gone, he became ut- 
 terly discouraged. He came to New York, assumed 
 another name, never went near the post office, and 
 ultimately became a common beggar on the streets. 
 For over a quarter of a century he had been a con- 
 firmed drunkard. 
 
 " This was the man who came up for prayers at the 
 Water Street Mission. He was on hand early the 
 next night, and when the invitation was given he 
 came up with the rest, and after praying very unctu- 
 ously rose up and said he was saved sure, this time! 
 He tried to put his arm around me again, but I re- 
 pelled him with much more vigour than grace, I fear. 
 I pointed him to the door. 
 
 ' Do you mean it? ' said he. 
 
 " ' If you linger much longer/ said I, ' you'll see if 
 I mean it.' 
 
 " He went slowly out cursing me and the Mission 
 and everybody else, and swearing he would die in the 
 street rather than come in again. 
 
 " I had been sorely tried that night. I had to put out 
 three longshoremen, who came in drunk looking for
 
 124 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 a fight, and I was clearly a backslider. My heart 
 smote me as I saw the miserable, hopeless figure go 
 out into the night. I went to bed, but not to sleep. 
 I could think of nothing else, pray for nothing else. 
 I felt he must be saved or I would be lost. 
 
 " Two weeks from that day we had a monthly meet- 
 ing of rescue workers. Our speaker had disappointed 
 us, and someone said, ' Call on Brother Hadley.' I 
 said, ' Yes, I have something to say to-day,' and with 
 shame and weeping I told them about the old Colonel 
 and how I had treated him. While I spoke it seemed 
 as if the Holy Ghost fell on us all. No one said 
 ' pray,' but all fell on their knees. They prayed for 
 the Colonel and they prayed for me, that God would 
 deliver my soul. While they prayed the light broke. 
 ' Get up,' said I, ' you need not pray any more.' 
 They gathered around me and said, ' Oh, Brother 
 Hadley, have you got your answer?' 'I have,' said 
 I, as I wrung their hands. I hastened to the elevated 
 road and came down to the Mission, and there on the 
 back bench sat the Colonel. It was my turn now, and 
 I put my arms around his neck and burst into tears. 
 
 " I got him a beefsteak, bread, butter, potatoes and 
 coffee, and he ate like a famished animal. I got a tub 
 of hot water, a bar of soap and plenty of towels and 
 clean clothes, and with the hands that pen these lines 
 I washed this poor outcast. I dressed him from head 
 to foot and took him over across the street to the 
 barber's, and soon his long hair and beard disappeared. 
 He stayed to the meeting and came forward ; but how 
 changed ! His whole frame trembled with emotion 
 and tears fell from his eyes to the floor as he cried, 
 ' O Lord, if it ain't too late, forgive this lost sinner ! '
 
 FUNERALS AT WATER STREET 125 
 
 " For six nights this was repeated, and on Saturday 
 night he arose at the close of our service, and said 
 with heaven in his face, ' Oh, Brother Hadley, I am 
 saved.' I said, ' I believe you/ and then we did have 
 a hug. 
 
 " From that instant the old beggar tramp was turned 
 into a child of God. He fairly loathed rum and all 
 its works. God restored to him his intellect, which 
 was so sadly impaired ; his youth returned, and he 
 became a tall, dignified, handsome Christian gentle- 
 man. 
 
 " Thousands have heard him, during the last thirteen 
 years, tell in the most convincing manner how Jesus 
 had reached down and saved him and kept him. For 
 some time past his health had been failing, and at last 
 we put him in the Presbyterian Hospital. On Febru- 
 ary 28 he went to see Jesus, whom he loved so well. 
 He was buried from our dear old Water Street 
 Mission. 
 
 " ' For I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, 
 and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no 
 more.' HEBREWS viii. 12. " 
 
 I knew the Colonel intimately. " I think I never saw 
 a nobler specimen of manhood. " Tell us," I said to 
 him one evening, " about your old life and your new 
 experience." Straightening himself up, he said, " Two 
 words will describe them both. The old life was hell; 
 the new life is heaven." 
 
 The funeral services of Harry McQuillan, one of 
 the Cranest of the Crane in the army of old England, 
 Harry McQuillan, who won the Victoria Cross, were 
 held in December, 1904, at the dear old Mission. 
 
 He enlisted when a young man in the Seventy-
 
 126 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 seventh Prince of Wales Regiment, belonging to the 
 Second Brigade, Light Division, under command of 
 General Sir George Brown, in the Crimean War ; took 
 part in the battles of the Alma, the capture of Bala- 
 klava, and the battle of Inkermann, the siege and storm 
 of Sebastopol. He was brought under special notice 
 of the Commander in Chief, Lord Raglan, for bravery 
 on the field, and on returning to England was brought 
 to the notice of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, at Al- 
 dershot. He was sent to Australia and from there to 
 India to suppress the Mutiny, where, in 1857, Brother 
 McQuillan was present at Cawnpur, Lucknow, at the 
 capture of Lucknow, and also at the siege of Delhi. 
 He stood guard at the famous well of Cawnpur, 
 where some 375 women and children were thrown after 
 their butchery by the savages. 
 
 For years he had been known as " Old Harry " on 
 the Bowery, sleeping in hallways, trucks, parks, for 
 months, and on a supper night came into the mission 
 and heard that Jesus could save a drunkard, and he 
 gave his heart to the only one who could save him, and 
 for many years led a good Christian life, and died in 
 the Methodist Hospital, Brooklyn. There was no vol- 
 ley for the hero, over his grave, but his comrades in 
 the new life stood around the grave, lifting up their 
 voices in song and praise and prayer, for he had won 
 even a greater victory in his latter years than he did 
 on the battlefield; conquered through the grace and 
 strength of Jesus, the appetite and passion of the life 
 of sin.
 
 XII 
 AT NORTKFIELD AND WINONA 
 
 SH. HADLEY was devoted to D. L. Moody, 
 and he had the entire confidence of this dis- 
 tinguished evangelist, who rarely made a 
 mistake in his estimate of men, and who never lost 
 an opportunity to say a good word concerning the 
 greatest rescue mission worker of his generation. He 
 has been present at almost every Northfield Confer- 
 ence for the past ten or twelve years. Great Bible 
 teachers might interest the Northfield audience; S. H. 
 Hadley always thrilled them. He was usually given 
 the Round Top meeting, and it was here that he was 
 always at his best. Stories of remarkable conversion 
 he was always ready to tell, but he uniformly closed 
 with his own testimony, and never lost an opportunity 
 to tell how Jesus had saved him and through the 
 many years had graciously kept him. 
 
 After D. L. Moody's death, his interest seemed to 
 deepen in the work which was carried on by Mr. 
 William R. Moody, and he repeatedly said : " I must 
 do all I can for Will ; he has a heavy load to carry, 
 and if by going to Northfield I can lighten it in the 
 least, I feel called upon to go." 
 
 He usually came from Northfield to Winona, and 
 from the very first Conference to the one held a year 
 ago, in 1905, he was an honoured speaker. Great 
 theologians, wonderful expositors of the Word of 
 
 127
 
 128 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 God, successful evangelists and preachers of renown 
 might be announced, but whenever it was known that 
 S. H. Hadley was to speak the people with one ac- 
 cord rushed to hear him. The hymn he loved to sing 
 at Winona was " Oh, It Is Wonderful," and it was 
 unique to see the staid, conservative Christians sing- 
 ing this song over and over under his strange leader- 
 ship. One evening when F. B. Meyer was present 
 as speaker, Mr. Hadley led the congregational singing 
 by beating time with his cane, and the people sang 
 until the building seemed to echo and re-echo with 
 the music. 
 
 One day at Winona he was in attendance upon a 
 ministerial conference. The ministers were trying to 
 decide what was essential on the part of a minister in 
 order that he should be well qualified to preach. It 
 was finally decided that a knowledge of Greek was 
 exceedingly helpful. Mr. Hadley paid the closest of 
 attention, and just as the meeting was about to ad- 
 journ, he rose slowly and said : " See here, where do 
 I come in? I do not know one Greek letter from an- 
 other, and yet I can preach as good a sermon as any 
 of you, and a good deal better than some of you. This 
 discussion makes me sick," he said with a smile. " It 
 is not essential that you should know Greek, but you 
 should know the Lord. Why, brethren," said he, " I 
 heard of an old man in the South who preached a ser- 
 mon from the text of Scripture, ' He that is not with 
 me, is against me ; and he that gathereth not with me, 
 scattereth abroad,' and because he could not read he 
 quoted it incorrectly, ' He that is not with me, is 
 against me, and he that gathereth not with me, 
 scratcheth a board.' " He said the old preacher went
 
 AT NORTHFIELD AND WINONA 129 
 
 on describing how if any man should reject Jesus 
 Christ he would have to scratch a board all through 
 eternity; told how he would get slivers in his fingers 
 until they were sore and festered, and yet he would 
 have to go on scratching. When it was over the 
 mourners' bench was filled with seekers. " More," he 
 said, " I doubt not than many of you preachers ever 
 have had through all of your ministry." Shouting 
 with laughter, every minister present decided that S. 
 H. Hadley had gotten the best of them, and that after 
 all the secret of preaching was to know Christ. 
 
 We have always observed his birthday at .Winona, 
 August 2.J, Assisted by his special friends in rescue 
 mission work Harry Monroe, Melvin Trotter, John 
 Callahan and W. M. Bruce from time to time dur- 
 ing the Conference he conducted great rescue mission 
 services. The crowds attending these services were 
 the largest of any during the entire Conference. But 
 when the 27th day of August came, his rescue mission 
 friends, the ministers present, all the people on the 
 grounds and the near-by city of Warsaw, delighted to 
 do him honour. 
 
 Every year he would tell the story of his conversion, 
 and just when the time seemed opportune during his 
 testimony it was my privilege to say that I believed 
 the time had come when we should make him a birth- 
 day offering, for Water Street Mission, and at the 
 suggestion money would literally be showered upon 
 him. Hundreds of people would pass by attempting 
 to shake his hand, but he was wise enough to know 
 that he would have more than his pockets full of 
 money, so he would hold his hat with both hands and 
 sing as the people passed, " Oh, It Is Wonderful."
 
 130 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 The service went on increasing in enthusiasm until the 
 hat was full of money, and it was always a question as 
 to who was the happier, S. H. Hadley or the people 
 who gave to him on this occasion. Said a distin- 
 guished preacher at the close of one of these birthday 
 meetings, " I now understand what it means to be a 
 ' hilarious giver.' " 
 
 The Conference of 1906 will be held without him. 
 He is in the presence of the King, but so long as the 
 present management is in control the 2/th day of 
 August will be observed as S. H. Hadley's birthday 
 service and someone from Water Street will be pres- 
 ent to tell of him, " Who being dead, yet speaketh." 
 
 Every summer for the past seven years at the 
 Winona Bible Conference six distinguished rescue 
 missionaries have met together to confer about their 
 work, to pray for the outcast, and to give their faithful 
 testimonies not only concerning their own conversion, 
 but the salvation of hundreds and thousands of others 
 lost and ruined like themselves, who have found the 
 Saviour. 
 
 These missionaries were: 
 
 S. H. Hadley, New York City. 
 
 Harry Monroe, Chicago, 111. 
 
 Melvin Trotter, Grand Rapids, Mich. 
 
 W. M. Bruce, Louisville, Ky. 
 
 J. P. Callahan, New York City. 
 
 W. V. Wheeler, Indianapolis, Ind. 
 
 I have written to these missionaries asking them to 
 write me a line concerning S. H. Hadley, and they 
 have responded as follows : 
 
 " One of the greatest blessings that ever came into 
 my life was my first meeting with Brother Hadley a
 
 S. II. IIADLEY SPEAKING AT WIXOXA.
 
 AT NORTHFIELD AND WINONA 131 
 
 number of years ago, at a Christian Worker's Conven- 
 tion in Chicago. The gathering was not large, so 
 those in attendance had a splendid opportunity of per- 
 sonal acquaintance and fellowship. 
 
 "As the days were given to rehearsal of Christian 
 work, and discussion of ways and means of doing the 
 same, one could easily get a glimpse into the inner life 
 of those engaged in the rescue of the lost. At the head 
 of all those most interested and whose soul was aflame 
 with love for his fellowmen, stood dear Brother Had- 
 ley. As he spoke to the audience, his face bathed in 
 tears, his voice tender and sweet, he touched them with 
 a love divine and created within them a great desire 
 to possess the same passion for souls which was so 
 mightily his. 
 
 " One had to stand shoulder to shoulder with him in 
 his pleadings with the lost to appreciate how real 
 Christ was to Him and how completely he lived upon 
 the Word of God. It was my great privilege to see 
 him, as by appointment from this convention three of 
 us held a service in the country jail! He began by 
 inviting the men to come to him when released. He 
 said: 'Now, I'll give you a password; when you 
 come use it : if you are hungry, I'll feed you ; if you 
 need clothes, I'll provide you these, and if you need a 
 friend, come to me.' At the invitation a great many 
 thronged to the altar to accept Christ. 
 
 " He lived and practised his favourite text, ' And the 
 servant of the Lord must not strive ; but be gentle 
 unto all men, apt to teach, patient in meekness, in- 
 structing those that oppose themselves ; if God perad- 
 venture will give them repentance to acknowledging of 
 the truth, and that they may recover themselves out of
 
 132 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 the snare of the devil, who are taken captive by him at 
 his will.' 1 1 Tim. ii. 24-26. Also, ' But love ye your 
 enemies and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing 
 again, and your reward shall be great, and ye shall be 
 the children of the Highest; for He is kind unto the 
 unthankful and to the evil.' St. Luke vi. 35. 
 
 " Love and kindness stood out in bold relief, affect- 
 ing alike the Christian, whose peace was made with 
 God, and the weary sin-sick man who had come to 
 believe no one cared for his soul until he heard and 
 met this true ambassador of the most High. How I 
 thank God for meeting and working with this man of 
 God, whose wonderful life has been and is a constant 
 inspiration to me, not only to love God with a truer 
 devotion and do His will more perfectly, but to seek 
 more diligently the lost. Thank God for my fellow- 
 ship with Him. 
 
 "JOHN CALLAHAN." 
 
 " CHICAGO, April 25, 1906. 
 
 " I am very happy to give my impressions of our 
 beloved Brother Hadley. The I3th chapter of First 
 Corinthians has always been a gem of rare beauty to 
 me. I have read commentaries upon it, but never fully 
 understood its interpretation until I met S. H. Hadley 
 at a convention of Christian workers at Tremont 
 Temple, in Boston, November, 1892. And while 
 others may wonder at the secret of his marvellous suc- 
 cess, I discovered on that occasion that he possessed a 
 passion born of God for souls that equipped him for 
 what has proved a most remarkable ministry. 
 
 " Like his Master, he loved everybody, and more 
 particularly he seemed to be in heaven when on his
 
 AT NORTHFIELD AND WINONA 133 
 
 knees with some poor crushed sinner telling the 
 precious story of how Jesus came into the world to 
 heal the broken-hearted and bind up their wounds. 
 Hadley was what might be called in the business world 
 a plunger. He believed that none had fallen so low 
 but that the ' precious blood of Jesus ' could cleanse 
 and purify their lives. When others might be dis- 
 posed to pass upon some poor broken-down bum or 
 thief, Hadley believed there was nothing too hard for 
 the Lord and would lift and lift and lift, and follow 
 the wayward with prayer and acts of kindness to the 
 end, and then stand by the open grave like Jesus did 
 of old and weep because he could do no more. 
 
 " Brother Hadley was one of the most transparent 
 men I have ever known. Every moment of his life 
 he was conscious of the presence of Jesus, in whom 
 he lived and moved and had his being. While an en- 
 thusiast, he believed in bringing things to pass. He 
 was wonderfully sane and never was diverted by men 
 or issues from the sweet simple story of how Jesus 
 saved him, a poor dying sinner. 
 
 "As a rescue mission worker he was a genius, and 
 his power of manipulating the lives of men who live 
 in what is known as the slum district of our cities was 
 a marvel. ' The love of God ' shed abroad in his heart 
 gave him a magnetism that always made him attractive 
 whether in the slums of New York praying with a 
 broken-down bum, or in some swell uptown church 
 telling the people on easy street how the good Lord 
 saved him. 
 
 " He was always natural. While perhaps few men 
 in his day have been more highly honoured in associa- 
 tion with great men, yet you would always find him
 
 134 S. H. HADLEY 'OF WATER STREET 
 
 the same humble, unassuming, loving Hadley, prefer- 
 ring always to work in the shadow than in the lime- 
 light, where others love to shine. He was in a class 
 by himself. 
 
 " Endowed by nature with a striking personality, 
 genial and optimistic, a man who had the faculty of 
 making friends on sight, when our brother got a 
 vision of ' the Christ,' and ' old things passed away and 
 all things became new,' Jesus made S. H. Hadley a 
 bearer of good news and hope to thousands of lost and 
 hopeless men and women, who have been ' saved by 
 grace and kept by the power of God.' 
 
 " Personally his life and labours have been a great 
 inspiration to me. Since he has been called home I 
 have felt as though I lost a brother indeed. He was 
 a true friend. This all Christian workers will concede, 
 and more particularly rescue mission workers. He 
 believed in giving every body a square deal. 
 " Sincerely yours, 
 
 " HARRY MONROE." 
 
 " GRAND RAPIDS, MICH., April 16, 1906. 
 " I first met S. H. Hadley at Northfield, Mass., six 
 years ago. I heard him speak at Round Top ; got 
 down in front of him where I could see his face and 
 the first look that I got of him my heart went out to 
 him and I loved him ever since. As he told the story 
 of his life, I cried like a child. I had suffered from 
 the same sin. At once I began to search for his power. 
 I talked with him about his work and about mission 
 work generally, but did not tell him I was a mission 
 man. I wanted to learn his methods and the secret of 
 his power. In Chicago the next winter, where we
 
 AT NORTHFIELD AND WINONA 135 
 
 were together at a Christian Worker's Convention, I 
 saw a practical demonstration of it. I found his 
 power lay in his love for souls and his love of souls 
 came from his love of Christ and the vision that comes 
 by the baptism of the Holy Ghost ; so I reasoned it this 
 way : to love the unlovely as S. H. Hadley does one 
 must have the love of God shed abroad in his heart 
 by the Holy Ghost. I saw him talking to a man that 
 was drunk and slipped up close to him and listened to 
 what he said, and he stood there and wept over that 
 stranger that was drunk. 
 
 " I turned from him and went alone before God and 
 stayed there until God gave me the same power. I 
 used to try to love souls and I did win some for Jesus, 
 but after S. H. Hadley came into my life I did not 
 have to try, God put the love there. 
 
 ; ' The first time he heard me give my testimony he 
 came to me after the service and put his arm about my 
 neck and told me that while I didn't know very much 
 I knew enough to love Jesus and love souls, and then 
 he gave me advice that I have lived and followed, and 
 if I have been a success as a mission worker it was 
 largely due to this first heart to heart talk with S. H. 
 Hadley. I came home from the convention and 
 changed my methods of working. I carried a great 
 deal of gunpowder in my make-up, and I could fight 
 sometimes easier than I could pray, but the love of 
 God and love for souls has enabled me to see Christ- 
 likeness, or at least a soul for whom Christ died, in 
 the very lowest drunkard in the gutter. I thank God 
 for Hadley's life ; I thank God for the victory in his 
 death, and I think if there is one man who will live on 
 and on, it is dear old ' Hopp ' Hadley,
 
 136 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " Each summer for ten days at Winona I have fol- 
 lowed him around from place to place, catching from 
 him some of the sweetest glimpses of my Lord that 
 I have ever had. He was very kind to me, making me 
 presents of books that he thought would help me, and 
 writing me off and on for the last six years letters of 
 encouragement. He wasn't afraid to pay a little com- 
 pliment here and there, and every move he would 
 make seemed to endear him more and more in my life. 
 
 " He was to be with me at my anniversary, January 
 19, 20 and 21 of this year, and on the morning of the 
 i8th, because of his illness, he wired me that it would 
 be impossible for him to come. The telegram was a 
 long one and the letter that followed explaining his 
 trouble and sickness was, I think, the sweetest letter 
 I have ever received from any man. It was so full 
 of love and so full of Christ that it just seemed, as I 
 read it to my people, that there wasn't a dry eye in 
 the house. 
 
 " If Hadley could say nothing good of anyone, he 
 wouldn't say anything. When I heard of a criticism 
 coming from one of the ministers in Winona about 
 Hadley and his gang of ' bums ' speaking from the 
 platform, all he said was, ' The Lord help him. He 
 ought to come down to Water Street and let the Lord 
 save him.' Turning to me he said, ' You old bum. 
 You love Jesus and love souls and that combination 
 makes a devil-possessed preacher turn green with 
 envy. Some of 'em are too dead to skin.' 
 
 "After telling the story one day at Winona, he said 
 to me, after having spoken to three or four thousand 
 people in the auditorium, ' Trotter, it's too bad they 
 ain't all " bums," so we could lead them to Jesus.'
 
 S. H. HADI.EY AND CHARLES M. ALEXANDER AT 
 NORTHFIELD.
 
 AT NORTHFIELD AND WINONA 137 
 
 Little did he know what his words of encouragement 
 meant to me. 
 
 " I was a drunkard when Jesus saved me, and many 
 people seemed to see very much good in me, but Had- 
 ley made me feel that I amounted to something in the 
 Kingdom of God. He used to say, ' We mission bums 
 are a part of God's aristocracy/ When I have been 
 tempted to feel that my work for Him amounted to 
 nothing I would always go back to the time that Sam 
 Hadley told me I was a ' winner ' because I loved the 
 drunkard. 
 
 " I am a better man for having loved S. H. Hadley, 
 and my prayer is that God may raise up someone to 
 take the place of this man in this old, wicked world. 
 The drunkards of this country have lost their best 
 friend in the death of S. H. Hadley. He has put 
 rescue mission work where it is in this country to-day. 
 May the Lord bless his memory. 
 
 " MELVIN E. TROTTER." 
 
 " LOUISVILLE, KY., July 3, 1906. 
 
 " I am very glad to pay a loving tribute to the 
 memory of the friend of sinners, Samuel Hopkins 
 Hadley. His noble and lovable character and life 
 endeared him to the cultured and wealthy, as well as 
 to the depraved and poor. To us, however, whom he 
 led up from the depths to know the grace and love of 
 God, his life was a true benediction and his death 
 causes keenest sorrow ; yet we rejoice because we 
 know he is now with Jesus, whom he so truly loved 
 and served. 
 
 " The first time I met S. H. Hadley was at the 
 second anniversary of his appointment as superintend-
 
 138 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 ent of the McAuley Water Street Mission, which I 
 attended as a spectator with a party of friends from 
 the church to which I belonged. At that time I was 
 a prosperous lawyer, and although not a Christian, 
 was a teacher in one of the large Sunday Schools in 
 New York City. 
 
 " Five years or six years later, when I was a poor, 
 helpless, sinful drunkard, having lost money, business, 
 self-respect, and everything worth having in this life, 
 except the love of a sainted mother and noble wife, 
 who would not let me go, vile though I was, I met dear 
 Brother Hadley again. From that time began a close 
 and tender relationship that grew more and more 
 precious every year. I was hopeless, penniless and 
 miserable. Instead of upbraiding, he helped me ; he 
 told me of Jesus's love and power to save. I resolved 
 to quit drink and lead a better life. For a while I did 
 fairly well, but because I would not make a full sur- 
 render, soon fell lower than before. When in trouble, 
 like thousands of others, I thought of Hadley, who 
 was so well known as the friend of the man in trouble. 
 I went to him and he again pointed me to Jesus. I 
 tried his patience more perhaps than anyone else, being 
 an obstinate man, unwilling to yield my will to God. 
 Dear Brother Hadley never lost patience with any sin- 
 ner and never gave a man up. Thank God, he held on 
 to me. I remember one occasion when I went to him 
 in an awful plight. At first he did not recognise me ; 
 then he looked at me with disgust for my sinful condi- 
 tion ; then lifting his eyes to mine with an expression 
 of sadness, tenderness and sympathy on his dear face, 
 he said, ' Bruce, give it all up to God.' I am so glad 
 I did so and for many years have been striving to give
 
 AT NORTHFIELD AND WINONA 139 
 
 it all up to God. I have not had a closer earthly friend 
 than S. H. Hadley. For over ten years he has been 
 my confidant, with whom I could freely advise about 
 the difficulties and trials as well as the joys and suc- 
 cesses of the work the Master has given me. His 
 influence upon my life has been deeper and stronger 
 than that of any other man. Whatever success as a 
 soul-winner I have had, is due in a very large measure 
 to the Christlike example of S. H. Hadley. 
 
 " The last time I saw him was at Winona, in August, 
 1905, when we had our last quiet talk together. He 
 spoke of heaven and said : ' It won't be long until you 
 and I are there.' He has gone to the better country. 
 What a multitude of redeemed drunkards, saved 
 through his instrumentality, welcomed him as he 
 reached the Golden Shore. Multitudes are following 
 after who will greet him there when to them this life 
 is over. I am looking forward to that time when the 
 Master shall say to me, ' It is enough, come home.' 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " WM. M. BRUCE."
 
 XIII 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 
 
 aE day in moving some articles in my home 
 I came across a phonograph and packed in 
 with it a number of old records. Calling my 
 children about me I put on one of these records and 
 started the phonograph going, when, to my perfect 
 surprise, I heard the voice of one of the members of 
 my household who for three years had been in heaven. 
 Five years before the record of the voice had been 
 made and for the first time in three years we heard 
 the voice of the loved one who was gone. The effect 
 was startling and one could scarcely say pleasing. 
 
 S. H. Hadley being dead yet speaketh, but his words 
 have quite the opposite effect upon us from the mes- 
 sage in the phonograph. In these messages of his we 
 see his great heart and we understand something of 
 the mighty principles which governed him in his life 
 work. We also catch a glimpse of the depth of his 
 passion for souls and there is given to us the clearest 
 possible picture of his devotion to the poor, lost out- 
 casts of society. 
 
 OUR WORK 
 
 Our work is entirely with the lost who have squan- 
 dered all long ago, and are for the most part dying on 
 the streets or in the low groggeries of the neighbour- 
 hood. They are in a condition when they come here 
 that would be impossible to describe. No language 
 
 HO
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 141 
 
 can portray it. It must be seen to be believed. Such 
 men must have care of all kinds, clothing, food, med- 
 icine and lodging; are often sent to the hospital for a 
 long or short period ; in fact, it is real, genuine mission 
 work, and plenty of it, and it all takes money to care 
 for it. If anyone would doubt this, let him come down 
 and take a look at the converts any night, and their 
 testimonies will leave no doubt about the condition 
 they were in when they came here, and how they are 
 now, since Christ has done His work in their hearts. 
 
 In some Christian movements they try to save nice 
 sinners, well-dressed sinners and sinners with good 
 moral characters, but with us it is quite the contrary. 
 We think the worst need salvation the most and so 
 we seek the very worst. Thank God, they cannot be 
 too bad for Him. Our testimonies are all clear, con- 
 vincing and spiritual. They deal with present salva- 
 tion. One brother says, " Now, you may think the 
 last drink I took was a good one, when I only gave 
 five cents for it, and it has lasted me sixteen years. 
 Praise the Lord, I haven't wanted to take a drink or 
 ' chaw of tobacky ' since I knelt down then and asked 
 God to save my soul ; I got up a saved man. How do 
 I know I was saved? Why, if you had a heavy load 
 on your back would you not know when it dropped 
 off? They used to call me 'Old Bill,' but now it is 
 Mr. Love." 
 
 TESTIMONIES 
 
 The main feature of our service is now as always 
 the testimonies of the converts. Night after night, 
 year in and year out, this sweetest music sounds in 
 our ears. It never grows tiresome. How strange! 
 These testimonies are very practical and deal in one
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 way or another with all the affairs of life. One 
 brother said : " I had no money, I had no clothes. 
 How can a man have money when he has no clothes? 
 But how is it to-day ? I ain't a dead man to-day, I am 
 worth a dozen dead men. I have clothes, have furni- 
 ture, and money, too. I don't want any whiskey now. 
 I have Jesus, and He satisfies my longing as nothing 
 else can do." All these men testify in a plain, com- 
 mon-sense way. Their story is stripped almost en- 
 tirely of all cant phrases. " I came into this Mission," 
 say they, " so long ago (giving the exact number of 
 years, months and days). I was a drunkard and had 
 been for years. I was in rags, half dead, so tired I 
 knew not what to do. I had ' carried the banner ' 
 (walked streets all night) for months. I heard some- 
 one speak about this place in a gin mill where I was 
 hanging out, so I came down. I heard the boys here 
 tell about Jesus, how He loved them and how He had 
 saved them. They said Jesus was the sinner's friend. 
 They had been drunkards just like me. In fact, I had 
 known some of the men I saw here in some of the 
 institutions where I had been. Well, I made up my 
 mind I would make a start ; I hadn't any feeling at all, 
 but I wanted help and wanted it bad, so I came for- 
 ward and knelt down and asked Jesus to save my poor, 
 lost soul. I tell you He has done it. I don't drink 
 any whiskey now. Praise the Lord ! I don't want it. 
 That old appetite has been taken away. I don't know 
 where to find it. I reckon I could find it if I would go 
 hanging around the saloons, but I have had enough of 
 that old life. I have work now' and every comfort I 
 need, and it is Jesus who has done it all." There, 
 brother, sister, this is typical Water Street testimony.
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 143 
 
 In 1901, in the Homiletic Review, there appeared 
 an article, " Some Principles of Rescue Work," in 
 which the author strongly objected to the testimony of 
 redeemed drunkards. Mr. Hadley felt at once called 
 upon to answer this article, and he wrote as follows : 
 
 " Testimony is not a new thing, by any means. 
 King David testified far more plainly than I have 
 ever heard anyone do in any meeting that I have ever 
 attended. He gave utterance to such soul-stirring 
 psalms as ' Bless the Lord, Oh My Soul,' but he also, 
 in the bitterness of his soul, left on the imperishable 
 pages of Holy Writ such expressions as : ' My 
 wounds stink and are corrupt because of my foolish- 
 ness/ Psalm xxxviii. 5. 
 
 " In the fifth chapter of Mark we read of the poor 
 woman who had an issue of blood for twelve years 
 and could find no help. She stole behind Jesus and 
 clutched the hem of his garment, and was made whole 
 instantly. She was going to keep quiet about it, but 
 the dear Master would not have it so. Under the 
 Jewish law this woman was unclean, and should not 
 have come into contact with anyone ; but Jesus called 
 her, and she came trembling and fell before Him, and 
 told Him before all that crowd of people, men and 
 women, on the public street, ' all the truth.' Jesus 
 sealed this honest confession by a blessing on her head 
 and calling her 'daughter.' In the same chapter hear 
 what Jesus said to the demoniac, out of whom the 
 legions of devils had been cast. When he wanted 
 to follow his precious new found Friend, Jesus said, 
 ' Go home to thy friends and tell them how great things 
 the Lord hath done for thee, and how He had mercy 
 upon thee.'
 
 144 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " I have been living in rescue missions almost ever 
 since my conversion, over nineteen years ago, and 
 have heard tens of thousands of testimonies; I have 
 never heard one that would shock the decent ears of 
 any Christian woman who was a friend to sinners. I 
 have been in the Florence Crittenton Mission over a 
 thousand times, where the testimonies are chiefly by 
 redeemed women. I have heard them tell, with 
 streaming eyes, how Jesus had saved them from a life 
 of shame and sorrow, and with nothing suggestive of 
 anything unwholesome or unbecoming. One of the 
 grandest workers I know of among the lost is a person 
 who had been a thorough-paced man of the world and 
 had sunken down in sin, and was saved in the Florence 
 Mission, one night nearly seventeen years ago, while 
 I was there, by hearing just such a testimony as I have 
 described. This is by no means an isolated case. I 
 have attended testimony meetings at Mrs. Whitte- 
 more's Door of Hope time and again, and at the Way- 
 side Home, in Brooklyn, and have heard the sweet 
 story of rescue and salvation from the lips of the 
 redeemed ones, and never a word to offend. 
 
 " I was saved by the testimony of redeemed men, 
 and it is a sensitive subject with me. On April 23, 
 1882, I went into Jerry McAuley's Mission, a dying 
 drunkard. I had just come from the station house, 
 where I had gone to have myself locked up with 
 delirium tremens. I had never been in a rescue mis- 
 sion before ; and there I saw Jerry McAuley stand up 
 before a crowd of ladies and gentlemen and sinners 
 of every type, and he said, ' I am saved to-night from 
 whiskey and tobacco and everything that's wicked and 
 bad. I used to be a regular old bum and a thief down
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 145 
 
 in the Fourth Ward, but Jesus came into me and took 
 the whole thing out of me, and I don't want it any 
 more.' Never had I heard anything like this. I had 
 heard people tell how good they were, but the candour 
 of this man convinced me it was real. Then Sister 
 McAuley stood up and said she had been saved from 
 a life of drunkenness and shame by the precious 
 Saviour fourteen years before and had been kept 
 sweetly ever since, and the great tears of love rolled 
 down her cheeks. I said, ' I wonder if I can't be 
 saved ? ' and I was saved that night and have been 
 kept saved ever since." 
 
 "OUR GUESTS 
 
 " Not infrequently it is true that special attention is 
 paid the rich in places of public worship ; the man with 
 the goodly apparel and the gold ring is many times 
 shown the preference in the matter of attention and 
 the assigning of a seat, but this is not true at Water 
 Street. 
 
 " One night a leading lawyer with his cultured wife 
 came to the Mission. They came out of curiosity, but 
 in the service they were convicted of sin. They both 
 belonged to the very best class of society in New York, 
 but when they raised their hands for prayers and 
 acknowledged themselves to be sinners they were told 
 that they must bow with the rest at the altar, and from 
 their knees they entered into an experience of power 
 to which up to that time they had been strangers. 
 
 " The thing that has impressed us most during the 
 past year above all else is the wonderful love of Jesus 
 for poor, helpless, dying men. Hundreds who came 
 in here were so nearly dead they seemed almost in-
 
 146 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 capable of exercising a bit of faith, or comprehending 
 what was said but when we would get down on our 
 knees before God, somehow the day began to break, 
 and they would feel their load of sin and cry to Jesus 
 for help. 
 
 " It is impossible to carry on this work without as- 
 sisting those who come, more or less. A man can 
 exist somehow, hanging around a saloon, no matter 
 how ragged or dirty he is, but when he tries to get 
 up he is powerless to do so, unless some friendly hand 
 is extended to give him the aid he so much needs. 
 We are here to save the worst, the vilest, and the most 
 degraded on earth, and we love to see that kind come 
 in preference to all others. 
 
 " GOD is WITH us 
 
 " We have men who came to us drunkards and were 
 converted, many women who came here drunkards 
 and were converted to God, and they have made for 
 themselves good homes, gone into business, prospered, 
 and employ others and contribute to our work; hun- 
 dreds of dollars are paid every year for the support of 
 this work by men and women who could not have 
 raised one penny when they came here unless they had 
 stolen or begged it. While many of our converts go 
 away to home or friends, and find employment that 
 takes them out of our reach, we always have a good 
 crowd at the Mission service. We hardly ever have 
 less than twenty-five redeemed men present, and often 
 fifty. Our congregation will average over seventy- 
 five men the year round ; and as many of our converts 
 become earnest workers we have lively meetings. 
 Then we do have to a remarkable and precious degree
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 147 
 
 the power of the Holy Ghost at all our services. Don't 
 take our word for it, but come and see. ' The best of 
 all, God is with us.' We have learned long since 
 that without Him we can do nothing. We have never 
 lowered the standard one inch. We believe and pro- 
 claim that Jesus, and Jesus only, can save a sinner 
 from eternal perdition, and believing this mighty 
 truth, we work in season and out of season to persuade 
 men to turn away from lives of sin and sorrow and 
 come to our blessed Saviour and find eternal life. We 
 think it a great privilege to be able and have a chance 
 to do this. 'Do your men fall?' How often I have 
 been asked that question. Yes, I am sorry to say they 
 do fall, many of them and often fall many times, but 
 we never give a man up. We have never yet had a 
 chance to test the full measure of Jesus' loving com- 
 mandment to forgive seventy times seven. It would 
 be a wonder if they did not fall. Almost insane and 
 ready to drop from excess, want and exposure, ready 
 to die on their feet for want of sleep and care, every 
 drop of blood in their bodies calling for alcohol, which 
 has been their steady diet for years ; every friend or 
 acquaintance they know is a drunkard. Saloon doors 
 on every hand wide open, warm, brilliantly lighted 
 and inviting. Is it any wonder they fall? We think 
 it a matter to rejoice over if they don't fall. When 
 our men fall all the world knows it, but not so with a 
 well-contained and sober sinner. 
 
 " WHAT THE MISSION IS 
 
 " Many come to us for the sole purpose of obtaining 
 employment; but this we discourage, for we believe 
 most men who come here are idle because they are
 
 148 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 drunkards and not trustworthy. We believe that the 
 Lord has a job for every saved drunkard, as soon as 
 He sees it is safe for him to have it. We believe the 
 blessed old book, the Bible, and every promise in it. 
 
 " One of our sheet anchors is, ' Seek ye first the 
 Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these 
 things shall be added.' MATT. vi. 33. 
 
 " In answer to many inquiries, verbally and by letter, 
 we wish to say that the McAuley Mission is not a 
 university settlement, a labour bureau, or any of the 
 new-fangled plans to simply better the condition of the 
 human race ; but it is a real, low-down rescue work, and 
 consequently is the highest work in the city. The 
 most degraded men and women in the world are the 
 most welcome to our doors, which stand open night 
 and day. If they are homeless we will be a home to 
 them ; if friendless, we will be their friend ; if hungry 
 (as they all are), we feed them; if naked, we clothe 
 them; if without character, we will lead them to One 
 who makes character. We have nothing to offer here 
 here but Jesus the crucified one. We believe that one 
 look at that bleeding victim would transform the vilest 
 sinner and make him white as snow. Of this class are 
 made up the great army men and women who were 
 saved in McAuley Mission. We believe in the old- 
 time religion the dear old gospel salvation through 
 the blood has never failed and it never will fail. 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 " AN ILLUSTRATION 
 
 " One peculiar character who came to Water Street 
 was Henry Miller, alias Slippery Dick. He was a 
 German, a small man, smooth, clean and tidy; did not
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 149 
 
 take much to liquor, but a born thief. I met him years 
 ago, in 1884, in Mike Dunn's home for ex-convicts. 
 I got to like him very much. He went to prison several 
 times after this and has served altogether thirty-six 
 years behind the bars. He began coming in here sev- 
 eral years ago, and used all his arts on the writer to 
 beat him out of all he could ; and I must say with a 
 great deal of success. I found that no ordinary 
 methods would do for Slippery Dick, so I gave him 
 about everything he asked for, and he went off with 
 a chuckle, satisfied that he had at last found a sucker ; 
 but don't you know, dear reader, that the devil often 
 gets beaten at his own game, and Slippery Dick finally 
 got so ashamed at the way he treated me and the way 
 I treated him, that he finally came up for prayers to 
 our mercy seat and said, when he rose from his knees, 
 ' I have been trying to be a Christian for a good many 
 years, but I am going to quit trying now ; I am going 
 to be a Christian and I am not going to take anything 
 from Mr. Hadley if I starve in the street.' He went 
 out that night and carried the banner (walked the 
 streets) ; the next day he went to the Rev. Mr. Hudson, 
 who has charge of some restaurants on the Bowery, 
 and said, ' I want work, and if you don't give me work 
 I will rob you.' Mr. Hudson looked at him, sized him 
 up well, and said, 'Who are you?' He said, 'I am 
 Slippery Dick, one of the biggest thieves in this town, 
 but I made a resolution at the Old McAuley Mission 
 to live a Christian life, and I am a thief no longer, but 
 I must have work.' 
 
 " Mr. Hudson put him to washing dishes for two and 
 a half dollars a week, and his room and board. He 
 had a man as cashier who came to him with a string
 
 150 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 of recommendations, and who had always been good 
 and honest, according to his tale, but this man robbed 
 him of every cent he could lay his hands on, and ran 
 away; then Mr. Hudson concluded that as the honest 
 man had robbed him so completely, he would see what 
 the thief would do ; so he put in Slippery Dick as 
 cashier. He was true and honest to his trust. Slip- 
 pery Dick got a bad cold, and I got him in the Presby- 
 terian Hospital, and while everything was done that 
 could be done, our dear brother went home, and as he 
 was not afraid to die, he passed away in peace, fully 
 trusting in Jesus. 
 
 LOVE FOR THE DRUNKARD 
 
 " How the writer, who is himself a redeemed drunk- 
 ard, saved in Jerry's Mission by Christ alone at death's 
 door, does sympathise with the drunkard ! Won't you 
 too, dear reader? Poor, helpless fellow, he does look 
 hard and dirty, don't he? No friends, no clothes, no 
 money; not a friend in the world. How glad I am to 
 be his friend and point him to the Lamb of God that 
 taketh away the sins of the world. 
 
 ' That head hath been pillowed on tenderest breast, 
 That form hath been wept o'er, those lips have been pressed ; 
 That soul hath been prayed for in tones sweet and mild, 
 For her sake deal gently with some mother's child.' 
 
 He was once bright, strong, willing and able to do his 
 part, but the saloon got his heart and life; he has 
 tried ever so hard, only to fail, but we love him and 
 Jesus can help him.
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 151 
 
 " ' Poisoned by alcohol, blear-eyed and illy clad, 
 Cursing his fate as he shuffled along; 
 Crushed, and bereft of the once earnest will he had, 
 Penniless, homeless, jeered by the throng. 
 Friends have assisted him, pastors have prayed o'er him 
 He has been rescued and lost o'er and o'er; 
 Oh, do not give him up, 
 Pull from his lips the cup, 
 Speak to him kindly and try him once more.'' 
 
 " HOW WE DO IT 
 
 " We do no^pteach or meddle ; we do not denounce, 
 arraign or persecute ; we do not insist that others shall 
 think as we do, or be as we are, or practise our pre- 
 cepts. This Mission offers a refuge for the fallen and 
 abandoned. It helps those to rise who cannot rise in 
 their own strength. It applies to the suffering and 
 destitute the touch of sympathy and loving kindness. 
 To the broken heart we offer hope. To the wasted 
 life we offer encouragement and opportunity. To 
 moral death we offer resurrection through Jesus Christ 
 alone. 
 
 " We proclaim no dogmas, establish no theology, in- 
 flict no penalties. The Old Jerry McAuley Mission 
 has no creeds or rituals. We are devoted to love and 
 tender ministration ; to help, and hope and rescue. 
 Our missionaries see the misery and degradation at our 
 own doors, and we hear the cry of the afflicted within 
 our reach, and help all who come to our sacred altar. 
 
 " We recognise the claim of the neighbour's anguish 
 upon our conscience and we arise and endeavour to 
 help them. We believe our mission was sanctioned 
 from the Mount of Olives, and we have pledged our 
 lives and strength and love, everything within us, to
 
 152 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 lift up the fallen, cheer the faint, feed the hungry and 
 clothe the naked. 
 
 " Is it discouraging? you ask. Oh, yes, it is simply 
 heart-breaking from a human point of view, but all 
 of us who work here have been saved ourselves 
 out of the horrible pit, with the very smell of fire on 
 our garments. We, too, have stooped down and drank 
 out of the bitter stream, and we can sympathise with 
 those who come to us with conscience seared and 
 hearts broken, almost destitute, reputation and charac- 
 ter gone, but we believe the loving touch of Jesus will 
 restore life and manhood and womanhood. ' I am the 
 resurrection and the life,' said He ; ' he that believeth 
 on Me, though he were dead yet shall he live; and 
 whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die," 
 and we have seen this exemplified almost daily during 
 the last eighteen years. 
 
 " Few people come here directly for salvation. Their 
 needs drive them here. They have spent all and be- 
 gan to be in want. Thousands of them say, ' I will 
 arise and go to my Father and say, Father, I have 
 sinned against heaven and in Thy sight, and am no 
 more worthy to be called Thy son/ and God the 
 Father sees them a great way off. 
 
 " No one can deny that this work is trying. It drives 
 us to the very last ditch. We cannot discriminate 
 much ; in fact we don't try. We help everybody who 
 comes to us, more or less ; in fact, we don't know who 
 to refuse, for those who from the human standpoint 
 seem the most hopeless turn out to be the brightest 
 cases. Do they fall? Yes, alas, they do, and they 
 rise again, and it's the same old story. Weak 
 humanity, yielding to the mighty power of sin, and
 
 SPECIAL MESSAGES 153 
 
 then Jesus comes in and helps them. Often we find 
 men are better for this schooling in the end. 
 
 " The devil is the best missionary we get around 
 Water Street. When a man gets on his feet, gets a 
 good job, gets to feel that he don't need the Mission so 
 much, he wanders around evenings, goes on the Bow- 
 ery, goes into the play-house ; then it is an easy step to 
 the saloon. Then he goes down and Satan stamps on 
 him with both feet, and within twenty-four hours his 
 clothes are gone. His money gone too, and then he 
 conies back to Water Street, half dead, and although 
 it is discouraging, he has perhaps learned a lesson. 
 Humbly and sincerely he starts again in the Christian 
 life."
 
 XIV 
 r AS AN EDITOR 1 
 
 IN 1883, when Mr. Hadley first became associated 
 with Jerry McAuley, it was decided to establish 
 a newspaper. This paper was intended, not only 
 to keep the interests of the McAuley Mission before 
 the public, but it was given such circulation as to 
 enable Jerry McAuley and his faithful co-worker to 
 reach as many of the outcasts as possible, those who 
 would not read the ordinary newspaper; those who 
 were behind prison bars who would be interested in 
 the publication simply because it was published by one 
 who had himself been in prison, and edited by one 
 who was redeemed from the curse of strong drink. 
 
 WHY THE NAME WAS CHOSEN 
 
 " The editor of this paper was converted at Jerry 
 McAuley 's Mission. If he had not in God's mercy 
 found his way to this place, he would not have been 
 alive to start the Perpetual Revival. The object of 
 this paper is to tell to the world the wonderful news 
 of how God is blessing mission work in this city at 
 this and other places. There are thousands of men 
 
 1 I am indebted to Mr. Smith Allen of New York City for 
 the old file of the Perpetual Revival. Mr. Allen was one 
 of Mr. Hadley's devoted friends, a man who has stood by 
 him in his work from the very first. J. W. C. 
 
 154
 
 AS AN EDITOR 155 
 
 who have never heard the ' glad tidings,' and would 
 be glad to attend these places where the nightly testi- 
 monies are so convincing, where high and low, rich 
 and poor meet on a common level, where demonina- 
 tion and creed are forgotten. These are places where 
 a burglar need not be ashamed to tell of his past life 
 and ask for prayers and assistance. The drunkard 
 who wants to reform can come in and be welcome 
 whether he has a coat to his back or not. If he has 
 none, they will pray for him and give him one. 
 
 " It was an untrodden field in journalism, and the 
 result of three weeks' experience is that the Perpetual 
 Revival has sprung into unheard of popularity, and it 
 is not confined to those who make a profession alone. 
 ' The boys ' like to read it. People who never go to 
 church subscribe for it, saints and sinners take it, and 
 when they have read it, send it to their friends in 
 other- cities and states, until now we are receiving 
 letters from all parts of the United States asking for 
 the Revival. In its columns will always be found a 
 correct report of the doings and happenings at Jerry 
 McAuley's Mission and other missions, as the interest 
 of the work seems to warrant. 
 
 " Many have asked, ' Where did you get the name 
 for your paper?' The name is suggested from the 
 fact that there has been a perpetual revival in prog- 
 ress at the Cremorne Mission ever since the writer 
 was converted there, shortly after the Mission opened 
 its doors nearly one year ago. The revival sprung 
 up itself. It was the Holy Spirit moving on men's 
 hearts, and as time goes on it increases. It will be the 
 pleasant duty of this paper to chronicle these incidents 
 in a newsy way which will be interesting to everyone."
 
 156 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 In the various editorials there is given another view 
 into the deep heart experience of S. H. Hadley. His 
 views of mission work in general, his appreciation of 
 the rescue mission, his abhorrence of strong drink, 
 and his devotion to his Master, are all clearly por- 
 trayed in the editorials he prepared February 10. 
 
 "BAXTER STREET 
 
 " One thing that astonishes the young Christian 
 more than anything else is to find so many good men 
 and women where he did not expect to find any. Also, 
 to see how much good is being done where he supposes 
 the name of Christ was never spoken, except in 
 blasphemy. 
 
 " As the writer was meandering his way up a 
 crooked and uncertain stairway in the very heart of 
 Baxter Street, his attention was arrested by hearing a 
 voice (evidently a woman's) in prayer. He was on the 
 landing of the third story of a coloured sailors' board- 
 ing-house, and from the surroundings it was the last 
 place on earth one would expect to hear a prayer to 
 the Almighty God. The supplicant was praying away 
 in a manner which showed she was undisturbed by 
 the surroundings, and it was plain to the hearer that 
 she had no doubt at all that she had the ear of the 
 heavenly Father. Unwilling to disturb such a solemn 
 scene, the Revival man took off his hat and felt for 
 his pencil. 
 
 ! ' O Lord,' said the voice, ' how good Thou art. 
 How precious You have been to us. Blessed be Thy 
 dear name forever. We never called on Thee but 
 Thou didst come. Now, dear Saviour, You know all 
 about me. I can .never thank You enough for what
 
 'AS AN EDITOR 157 
 
 You have done for me, but, dear Jesus, stay with me. 
 I am weak, Thou knowest how I have tried to win 
 souls for Thee. Thou knowest all about this neigh- 
 bourhood. Do, dear Jesus, help me to bring souls to 
 Christ.' 
 
 " We cannot give it all here. As soon as there was 
 silence the reporter knocked at the door and found 
 himself in a plain, neatly furnished room. Three 
 women and one man were on their knees at a round 
 table in the centre of it, and the writer hastily un- 
 covered his head and knelt down with them. One 
 verse of a sweet melody was sung and then after all 
 had risen, a kind but determined-looking woman ap- 
 proached the writer to learn the cause of the intru- 
 sion. A few words only were necessary to place 
 everyone on a comfortable footing. 
 
 " The Revival man was in search of the well-known 
 Baxter Street missionary, Mrs. Doolittle, and had got 
 at her very door before he was aware of it. This is 
 one of the most remarkable women in the mission field. 
 She secured a foothold in Baxter Street ten years ago, 
 and bad as the street is now, it is nothing to what it 
 was then. She goes in saloons and preaches Sunday 
 afternoons and uses the bar to lay her Bible and hymn 
 book on. No one touches her, and so great is her 
 influence over this class, that they all would resent an 
 insult towards her. She goes into the lowest brothels 
 and dance houses and openly persuades young girls 
 to leave; if she cannot obtain her point, she prays 
 with them. When asked how she could do this she 
 exclaimed : ' Me ? I can't do it. It is all Jesus, bless 
 the Lord ! ' 
 
 " And then warming up with her theme, so her face
 
 158 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 fairly shone with rapture, she added : ' Praise the 
 Lord, praise the Lord ! Brother,' said she, ' do you 
 know we don't praise him half enough.' " 
 
 " THE STRONGER OF THE TWO 
 
 " The love of whiskey is stronger than the love of 
 money. It is said the ' love of money is the root of 
 all evil.' It is the love of money that keeps the world 
 moving. What will men not do for money? They 
 will cross the seas, climb over mountains, work in 
 dark rayless caverns, expose themselves to all sorts of 
 dangers, deprive themselves of all comforts, endure 
 fatigues almost anything within the reach of human 
 capacity, and then, after having secured it by such 
 means, they sacrifice it all for whiskey. Slaves of 
 this appetite will spend their last dime for whiskey, 
 no matter how much they may be suffering for the 
 necessaries of life. We have known men while on a 
 spree, and being refused a drink on credit, to step in 
 a hallway and take off their shirt and offer it for rum. 
 ' Only one drink,' they say. ' I will die if I don't 
 get it. I shall die.' " 
 
 " THE LOVE FOR WHISKEY 
 
 " Men thoroughly under the influence of this ap- 
 petite are utterly indifferent to the love of home. Not 
 only are the wants and wishes of loved ones disre- 
 garded, but their comfort and happiness sacrificed in 
 order to gratify the unquenchable thirst for strong 
 drink. There is probably nothing on earth that can 
 compare with alcohol as a despoiler of home. 
 
 " What will a sane man not do to protect and defend
 
 AS AN EDITOR 159 
 
 his fireside? What labours, fatigues, privations will 
 he not cheerfully go through with to provide for the 
 wants of those who are dependent upon him ; and yet 
 under the influence of this inordinate and depraved 
 appetite, he grows indifferent and neglectful, and even 
 spurns contemptuously the sad pleadings of suffering 
 loved ones. There is nothing under the sun that so 
 thoroughly conquers man's love for his family and 
 friends as the appetite for whiskey or beer. Afflic- 
 tions, sorrows and disappointments only tend to bind 
 men closer to their home life, but alcohol, that enemy 
 of the home, that despoiler of peace, that breeder of 
 discord, that foe to friendship, that stranger to love, 
 tends to estrange and alienate men from all that is 
 pure, peaceable and lovely." 
 
 " THE DECEITFULNESS OF WHISKEY 
 
 " One who wielded an inspired pen many hundred 
 years ago, said, speaking of wine : ' Whosoever is de- 
 ceived thereby is not wise.' There is nothing on earth 
 that deceives us as does the intoxicating drink. It 
 promises to slake thirst, but instead of doing so it 
 creates a deeper thirst. It promises happiness and 
 peace, but instead of these boons it brings misery, 
 confusion and despair. It promises health and long 
 life, but it really brings disease, and a premature and 
 terrible death. Who except those who have passed 
 through it, can tell the suffering and anguish that 
 takes possession of the man or woman who is a slave 
 to rum. The fearful apprehension of something awful 
 that is about to happen, the longing for sleep, and 
 the dread to go to sleep for fear we will wake up in 
 hell. How it deceives us too, that we are not so bad
 
 160 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 after all, that what we did would be excused because 
 we were drunk. We imagine we are in bad luck. It 
 was not our fault that we were discharged from our 
 job, oh, no; rum will conjure up a hundred excuses, 
 and we go to the fatal cup for comfort. It is almost 
 useless to talk to a man who is so deceived. He must 
 go to the bottom. He must realise that it is not bad 
 luck. It is not bad health or bad friends that have 
 brought all this trouble, but it is whiskey and nothing 
 but whiskey. 
 
 " Another style of deception of this foe of mankind 
 is the way it creeps on us unawares. How slowly and 
 stealthily it advances on its unsuspecting victim. 
 Its progress is almost imperceptible. The unfortu- 
 nate one is not conscious of its approach until 
 he awakes from his deceptive slumber of self-security 
 to find himself bound hand and foot, and with no 
 power to extricate himself from its merciless and un- 
 yielding grasp. He writhes and struggles in vain 
 for deliverance. It has entwined its secret forces about 
 every limb, and he lies chained in hopeless bondage 
 to an ungovernable appetite. 
 
 " At first, the drunkard is master of his appetite, 
 but it is only for a brief time. He soon becomes its 
 servant, and finally its most loyal and menial slave. 
 In the language of one who tasted the bitterest dregs, 
 ' Alcohol was at first my jolly companion. I soon be- 
 came its humble and obedient servant, and now I am 
 its helpless and cowardly slave.' 
 
 " There is one refuge, thank God. That only refuge 
 is in the Lord Jesus Christ. No one can doubt but 
 that the very devil is in the cup. There is no dis- 
 the deroon that P-OP.S rlo\v.n v.our throat with
 
 AS AN EDITOR 161 
 
 the whiskey you swallow. All drunkards know that 
 rum is their mortal foe, so the only course left is to 
 turn to the friend of all mankind, the dear Saviour, 
 who stands with loving arms waiting to receive you. 
 Oh ! poor, tired, drunken, weary soul, how much you 
 need rest. How bad the devil has used you, how 
 poorly he has paid you. Shake off his bonds and 
 make one grand glorious effort. Look up to Christ, 
 and say I will go to Jesus. I'll go to Him though I 
 die, and who dare hinder me ? Dear friend, whenever 
 you come to this point, you have the victory. Satan 
 will flee in real alarm, and then just let go and drop. 
 Christ will catch you; and oh! the rest, the sweet, 
 sweet rest, that will be yours. Try it." 
 
 " THE APPETITE FOR ALCOHOL 
 
 " We have heard people claim to have a natural 
 appetite for whiskey and strong drink; but this is a 
 great mistake; nature never bred or developed such 
 a contradiction, such an anomaly. If she had she 
 would have created alcohol with which to satisfy it, 
 and this she has not done. It is not found in nature's 
 laboratory. 
 
 " Nature makes ample provisions for all those wants 
 that are natural, but she made no provisions what- 
 ever for the alcoholic appetite, therefore it is unnatural. 
 
 " God made man upright and honest, but he has 
 sought out many inventions and this is one of them. 
 Appetite is very largely if not wholly an artificial 
 creature and capable of almost any degree of per- 
 version. 
 
 " When under restraint and controlled by reason and 
 judgment, it is one of the greatest sources of health
 
 162 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 and happiness known to mankind, but when it once 
 gets the mastery over these attributes it becomes a 
 merciless tyrant, enslaving to its menial servitude all 
 the highest and best capacities of soul, body and 
 spirit." 
 
 S. H. Hadley was passionately devoted to his 
 mother. I have again and again seen the tears glisten 
 in his eyes as he told the story of her devotion to him, 
 and of the expectation he had of one day being with 
 her again. The editorial which follows is but another 
 indication of this. 
 
 " MOTHER 
 
 " What a world of memories cluster round that 
 word. How we each begin to think of our own dear 
 mother. Our recollections go back to childhood, when 
 we first become acquainted with that dear, sweet face. 
 About the first thing we can remember of her is as 
 we knelt down at her side and said the prayers she 
 taught us. Then she would lift us up so tenderly and 
 put us to bed, and tuck us in and give us a good hug 
 and a good-night kiss. When we were sick, how she 
 would stand over us with that anxious look, never 
 weary, never tired, and when we would go to sleep and 
 awake mother was always there, wide-awake. In- 
 deed, we often used to wonder in our childhood in- 
 nocence when mother did sleep. The first face we 
 shall look for when we get to heaven, and the first 
 one we expect to see, will be mother's ; and we ex- 
 pect her sweet, gentle voice to be the first sound that 
 will break with rapture on our ears. When she was 
 sick we would steal into the room on tip-toe, with a 
 great fear in our heart. A dread of, we did not know
 
 AS AN EDITOR 163 
 
 what, and a choking sensation at the throat; we did 
 not intend to speak to her; but mother heard us, no 
 matter how softly we stepped, and turned her dear 
 face over and we climbed up on a chair for a kiss. 
 
 " But the time rolled on and we grew up to be a 
 large boy. We came to the conclusion that mothers 
 were excellent when we were little, but got somewhat 
 troublesome when a boy was trying to be a man. How 
 horrified she was when she first smelt tobacco-smoke 
 on us, and can we ever forget how the look of anxiety 
 turned to real anguish when she detected liquor on 
 our breath. At last the time came when she could 
 only pray. She would pour out her soul in prayer to 
 Him who bore all our sorrows. What a blessed 
 thing there is a place where mother can go, when 
 her very heart seems to be breaking in agony. Be- 
 fore we got to be so careless and hardened, we some- 
 times had moments of remorse, and conscience would 
 prick us for causing our dear mother so much sor- 
 row, and then how quickly she forgave us, and with 
 her arms around us kissed us with the old confidence 
 restored. But, alas ! these spells would be of short 
 duration, and rum had already begun to do its work. 
 Then the lines would begin to grow deep on that 
 face that was so peaceful, and tear-stains were often 
 found there. All this time we loved our mother, 
 and we knew she was the best friend we had on 
 earth ; but the deadly poisonous serpent we were tak- 
 ing stilled the voice and pleadings of mother, as well 
 as all other holy things. 
 
 " At last when we came home late one night some- 
 one met us at the door. It wasn't mother, it was 
 some kind friend, and we are told ' mother is
 
 164 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 dead.' ' What, mother dead ? ' The first face we ever 
 saw pale and cold. The first voice we ever heard 
 hushed in the awful stillness of death. It must be 
 a mistake; but at the same time something in the 
 very stillness told us she was dead. We thought as 
 we approached the house a few moments ago that 
 we would not have her see us for anything; but now 
 we would be willing our whole life should be laid 
 bare if she could only speak to us once more and bid 
 us good-bye, ere she took that eternal sleep. * Will 
 you go to see her now ? ' was asked. * Yes,' we 
 would go. We did not know what else to say. We 
 followed along to the chamber of death. Oh! dear, 
 could that be mother! That rigid form with a white 
 sheet so carefully laid over it. They lifted the cloth 
 off, and we saw it was her indeed. It was no horrid 
 dream, as we had hoped. Then we looked so closely, 
 to see if we could find any traces of anger or reproof 
 or displeasure ; for it was then we knew it would be 
 for us; but it was not there. Before her soul had 
 taken its flight she had been permitted mayhap to 
 catch a glimpse of the Eternal City beyond, and it 
 wore a peaceful, sweet look. ' Did she say anything 
 about me ? Did she leave me any word ? ' we asked 
 with choking voice. ' Oh, yes ! she told us to tell 
 you that she had prayed for you, so many times, and 
 she knew God would bring in her dear wandering 
 boy, and he must be sure and meet her in heaven.' 
 
 " Yes, indeed, we would ! Ah, yes ! We almost 
 wished we could die then, and go to her. And as we 
 stood there in awe looking upon the work that death 
 had wrought, we remembered the song we had learned 
 in childhood :
 
 AS AN EDITOR 165 
 
 "'Mother, thou wast mild and lovely, 
 
 Gentle as the summer breeze, 
 Pleasant as the air of evening, 
 When it floats among the trees.' 
 
 " In after years when sin and vice, and rum, had 
 us firmly in their toils, we would sometimes call to 
 mind that dear dead face and remember those prayers 
 of mother's, and then we would go and drink deeper, 
 and try, though in vain, to drown all these thoughts. 
 But a mother's prayer will never die. The fervent 
 agonising prayer of a true Christian mother will go 
 up to God, and it will be answered some day in God's 
 own time. It will never fall to the ground. We know 
 God heard it, in our behalf." 
 
 "on, RUMSELLER! 
 
 " I would not take your death for all this life af- 
 fords, and all its multiplied pleasures. Oh, thou cor- 
 rupter of youth, and disseminator of misery and woe, 
 and tears and sobs. When you draw near to death, 
 how will it be? To the Christian these shadows are 
 tinted with a golden hue, and the heaven's light shines 
 through and over it. But to you these shall be shadows 
 full of demons. Images of terror shall dimly rise and 
 beckon you on. The ghostly deeds of the past shall 
 arise and stretch out their skinny hands to push you 
 forward. You will not die unattended. No, indeed. 
 There will be plenty of company around your bedside. 
 Despair will mock you. Agony shall press to your 
 parched lips her fiery cup. Remorse will feel for your 
 heart and rend it open. Good men will breathe the 
 freer when you are dead, and utter thanksgiving when
 
 166 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 you are gone, and feel as though a plague is stayed, 
 and surrounded by fiends, and borne on a blast, 
 your guilty spirit whistles toward the city of death 
 and night, and the shrieks of those who have been 
 damned through the liquor you have sold them will 
 be your first welcome to the place where you will 
 send up your unavailing and helpless cry throughout 
 a never-ending eternity. 
 
 " Poor soul. He don't seem to realise that he will 
 die if he does get it. If these poor unfortunate rum 
 and sin-cursed souls will only come to some of the 
 missions, whose hospitable doors are ever open to 
 receive them, and give their hearts to God and ask 
 His help, they would soon learn the only true way to 
 overcome the greatest of all curses, rum." 
 
 It was from this experience that his great mission 
 to the outcast started. I have often heard him say 
 that when he reached the Cremorne Mission the room 
 was crowded and the crowd reached out into the 
 street, but an old man said to him, " Do you want to 
 go in?" Tremblingly he replied, "I do if I can." 
 " Well," said he, " just take hold of my coat-tails and 
 follow me." Holding on for dear life like as a drown- 
 ing man would catch at a rope, he was drawn through 
 the crowd until he stood near the front. His con- 
 version was the result and his marvellous mission is 
 begun. 
 
 The name of the aged man has never been known, 
 but doubtless he is to-day in glory, and if so, S. H. 
 Hadley must have met him, and they two rejoice to- 
 gether over the mighty work accomplished by this 
 truly wonderful man.
 
 XV 
 SOME PERSONAL TESTIMONIES 
 
 A I entire volume could be written embracing 
 the personal testimonies of the devotion in 
 which S. H. Hadley was held, not only by 
 his friends, but by the outcast men and women who 
 had no claim upon him at all, except that Jesus loved 
 them, and he loved Jesus. His eye always seemed to 
 be open for the one who was down and out. He would 
 pass by a man of affairs to take the hand of a reeling, 
 staggering drunkard, but it is a pleasure to record 
 not only the testimonies of men who were redeemed 
 like himself, but of some men of renown. 
 
 "A PERSONAL APPRECIATION 
 
 By Rev. R. A. Torrey, D. D. 
 
 " I regard the late Samuel H. Hadley as one of the 
 most beautiful characters I have ever met. He was 
 the embodiment of Christlike love. I think I have 
 never heard any man who made me feel the short- 
 comings in my life, in my lack of love for the outcast 
 as he did. One address that I heard him give on love 
 for the lost has moulded my whole life since. He was 
 a daily demonstration of the power of Christ to save. 
 While I admired him, I did not so much admire him 
 as love him. I have met very few men in all my 
 life to whom my heart went out as it did to Samuel 
 Hadley." THE WESTMINSTER. 
 
 J67
 
 168 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 "A PASTOR'S TRIBUTE 
 By the Rev. J. Wesley Johnston. 
 
 " Among the varied experiences which have be- 
 fallen me since entering the ministry, there is none that 
 I value more or that has been more significant in 
 results, than my pastoral relations with Rev. S. H. 
 Hadley, who for so many years was the superintend- 
 ent of the far-famed McAuley Mission on Water 
 Street, and the superintendent of our rescue mission 
 on the Bowery. For through this relation I have 
 been enabled to reach certain religious convictions and 
 attain certain spiritual phases, to which I had hitherto 
 been a comparative stranger. For though I was his 
 pastor in the largest meaning of that suggestive term 
 enjoying his confidence, sharing his hopes, bearing 
 something of his burdens, and favoured as few men 
 have been with the secret desires of his soul yet in 
 reality he was my pastor, for everything that I was 
 to him, he was to me, except that his sympathies were 
 deeper, his love richer, his wisdom sounder, and his 
 care more fatherly and protective. Only those who 
 have stood in this relation to him can realise what 
 it means to have such a man in his church, or feel 
 the awful sense of desolation when such a man is 
 taken away. 
 
 " My acquaintance with Mr. Hadley began when 
 I was pastor of the Sixty-first Street church in this 
 city, for he came to see me and talked freely of the 
 work in the McAuley Mission. Some years later 
 when I was stationed in St. John's Church, Brooklyn, 
 1 visited the McAuley Mission, and saw for myself 
 the wonderful work that mission was doing. But
 
 SOME PERSONAL TESTIMONIES 169 
 
 it was not until I was appointed to John Street church, 
 in which Mr. Hadley held his membership, that I came 
 to know him with any measure of intimacy, or ap- 
 preciate in even the slightest degree his extraordinary 
 ability and power. And what was true of me five 
 years ago is true of multitudes now. Because he 
 identified himself so closely with the McAuley Mis- 
 sion, living for all these years in Water Street, ming- 
 ling constantly with drunkards, criminals, outcasts, 
 and sinners of every class, visiting squalid lodging 
 houses and sinful resorts, going everywhere that he 
 might find those who needed help, many have imag- 
 ined that by nature he was fitted for just this service 
 and had neither taste nor aptitude for anything else. 
 On the contrary, Mr. Hadley was a man of the most 
 exquisite refinement. Vulgarity in any form was im- 
 possible to him. He had a keen sense of the proprie- 
 ties. His bearing, whether in the intimacy of private 
 friendship or public life, was of the highest type, and 
 any remark or experience which savoured of coarse- 
 ness called from him an indignant rebuke. A more 
 noble Christian gentleman it would be difficult to 
 find. 
 
 " It would be only natural to suppose that coming 
 constantly in contact with those who frequented the 
 missions that he would in some measure become 
 familiar with vice, and lose his fine delicacy and sense 
 of feeling. For that seems almost an inevitable re- 
 sult. The tendency of repetition is to harden. By 
 seeing suffering every day the eye loses its tenderness 
 and the heart grows indifferent. But who ever saw 
 either hardness or indifference with Mr. Hadley? 
 Who ever heard a rough or unfeeling word from his
 
 170 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 lips? Who ever knew of him turning coldly or neg- 
 lectfully away from even the most vicious and de- 
 graded? He was the embodiment of chivalry to lost 
 women. He was the soul of kindness to dissolute men. 
 His smile, though tear-shot, was that of a mother when 
 wayward girls wandered into the Mission from the 
 streets. His hand, though trembling with emotion, 
 was that of a father when the weary, repentant prodi- 
 gal came forward to the mourners' bench. How he 
 kept so sweet, so patient, so tender, so pitiful can never 
 be explained, for the secret lay between him and God. 
 But it must have cost him nights of prayer, days of 
 anguish, times of unutterable sorrow. Yet no matter 
 what it cost it yielded a splendid return, for it can be 
 said of him as of the Master whom he ardently loved, 
 ' He was touched with the feeling of our infirmities.' 
 
 " But there was one phase of Mr. Hadley's work 
 concerning which comparatively little has been said, 
 yet it is of supreme importance his close relation and 
 intense sympathy with the church. 
 
 " As a rule men who lead off in reforms, whether 
 social or philanthropic, rarely identify themselves defi- 
 nitely with the church. For some reason, possibly 
 because they think the church is failing in its duty, or 
 is not keenly alive to the cause dear to their hearts, 
 they are often open in their denouncement, and at 
 times seem frankly hostile to both churches and minis- 
 ters. Hence it is not unusual to hear of the exclusive- 
 ness of the church ; the pride, the formality, the 
 indifference of the church ; the carelessness of the 
 church with regard to the condition of the outcast 
 and the poor; and the chill welcome the church has 
 for those who are not of the prosperous and favoured
 
 SOME PERSONAL TESTIMONIES 171 
 
 class. Indeed, it is more than probable that much of 
 the present feeling of distinction between the rich and 
 the poor, and the supposed failure of the church to 
 reach the great masses of the working people is fos- 
 tered by these so-called reformers who have made 
 the church the target for foolish and harmful criti- 
 cism. 
 
 " But Mr. Hadley took exactly the opposite course. 
 The Mission on Water Street and the Rescue Hall on 
 the Bowery were not regarded by him as separate in- 
 stitutions to which men might come because they 
 would not be received elsewhere, but merely as door- 
 ways leading into the great church of Christ. Hence 
 with an insistence which was evident at every service 
 he made it very clear that no reform in personal 
 habits, no abandonment of drunkenness, no promise or 
 pledge of amendment was complete unless the vows 
 for such reform were sealed before the altars of the 
 church. 
 
 " No man for half a century has done so much to 
 bring the poor and outcast into close vital relations to 
 the church as Mr. Hadley. There is not a church in 
 this city, or in this country, but is under profound 
 obligations to him for the service he has rendered. 
 Had he so desired, with the immense following he 
 had throughout the nation, and with his extraordinary 
 gifts of speech and his power to awaken popular sym- 
 pathy, he could easily have founded a Rescue Mission 
 Church, and thus created a feeling that the church 
 generally cared nothing for the wayward, the drunken 
 or the poor. But his love for the church and his 
 splendid faith in the gospel it proclaimed, led him to 
 cast the entire weight of his influence and the force
 
 172 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 of his personality to the church of Christ, and he con- 
 tended boldly that any pledge or promise, no matter 
 how solemnly it was made, was only as a house built 
 upon the sand, unless it centred itself in the Gospel 
 and church of our blessed Lord. 
 
 " In connection with this it needs to be said that 
 while he was most desirous that the Mission converts 
 unite with the church, he made it very clear to them 
 that a change, a definite change of life and heart, was 
 essential. The mere fact of raising the hand for 
 prayers or coming forward to the seekers' bench and 
 there professing conversion, did not in his mind fit a 
 man for church membership. He looked for and re- 
 quired an intelligent faith, not simply in the Gospel, 
 which is often an unmeaning phrase, but in Jesus as 
 a distinct personal Saviour. 
 
 " To Mr. Hadley, Jesus was not a mere name en- 
 shrined in a creed, a vague, mysterious being, throned 
 above principalities and powers, beyond the reach of 
 sinful men, but an actual person, who came into his 
 life with a vividness akin to that of a bodily presence, 
 and whose absolute existence was as positive as that 
 of his own. 
 
 "And if anyone is looking for the secret of Mr. 
 Hadley 's wonderful success, the source of his unfail- 
 ing sympathy, the cause of his deep, forgiving grace, 
 which not even the seventy times seven could exhaust, 
 or the inspiration of his ceaseless, tireless ministry, 
 it all can be summed up in the fact that his religion 
 was not a creed, not a catechism, not a summary of 
 Christian doctrines, not an observance of church 
 duties, but a firm realisation of Christ as a person, 
 with whom he had conscious communion, and from
 
 SOME PERSONAL TESTIMONIES 173 
 
 whom he received blessings as clearly as from the 
 hand of a friend. 
 
 " Yet there was not the slightest tinge of fanaticism 
 in his religious life. He was singularly well poised, 
 steady, calm, strong in all matters pertaining to re- 
 ligion. Seeing what he saw most every day; hearing 
 the testimonies of multitudes of men who through his 
 ministry had been gloriously converted ; living in an 
 atmosphere of constant revival, it would not have been 
 surprising if in time something of extravagance, un- 
 wise excitement, tendencies towards mysticism, had 
 been apparent. 
 
 " But instead of being elated by his success, or af- 
 fected by the popularity he attained, he became in- 
 creasingly humble, and his utter dependence upon God 
 was daily more manifest. 
 
 " And this spirit he sought with all earnestness to 
 impress upon the Mission converts. Their help, their 
 only help, he insisted, was God. Anything else would 
 fail them. They must pray. They must read their 
 Bibles. They must maintain constant communion with 
 Jesus. They must be deeply religious. They must 
 rest with absolute faith on the promises of God. If 
 they trusted in God, their old appetites, lusts, desires, 
 temptations, no matter how powerful in the old life, 
 would not longer have dominion over them. In this 
 way he made religion a real thing. He had no place 
 for theories in his Mission. God, heaven, hell, sin, 
 Christ, salvation, the power of prayer, the indwelling 
 of the Holy Spirit, grace for even the most abandoned 
 and degraded, were tremendous verities with him, and 
 he made them the essentials of his ministry. No won- 
 der, therefore, that so many of his converts remain
 
 174 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 faithful. He made religion to them as real as it was 
 to himself. He brought them face to face with Jesus 
 as a personal Saviour, through whom alone they could 
 obtain salvation. 
 
 *' Now the service he thus rendered to the cause of 
 religion is simply incalculable. He brought men back 
 to the faith and earnestness of primitive Christianity. 
 He wrote anew the Acts of the Apostles. He trans- 
 ferred the Upper Room, with its strange manifestations 
 of the power of God, from the Jerusalem of two mil- 
 lenniums ago, to the mission chapel on Water Street, 
 or the Rescue Hall on the Bowery. The miracles of 
 Jesus he wrought out in flesh and blood. He had no 
 doubts, no fears, no misgivings concerning the faith 
 once delivered to the saints. He could say just as 
 earnestly as St. Peter, ' We have not followed cun- 
 ningly devised fables, when we made known unto you 
 the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but 
 were eye-witnesses of His majesty.' Not even St. 
 Paul, when standing before Agrippa, could relate with 
 more startling vividness the story of his conversion 
 than he could tell of the wondrous night when Jesus 
 appeared to him and gave him the assurance of sins 
 forgiven. He needed neither argument nor evidence 
 to convince him as to the reality of miracles, for he 
 had the witness in himself. And his life gave glorious 
 proof of what he declared, for it was blameless, pure, 
 upright, honest, consecrated to the saving of his fel- 
 low-men, and like that of the Christ who had ap- 
 peared to him, spent ministering to the poor, caring 
 for the outcasts and redeeming the lost from the 
 bondage of sin and death. 
 
 " Thank God for such a man, such a ministry, such
 
 SOME PERSONAL TESTIMONIES 175 
 
 a life ! Thank God for such a work as he was able to 
 do, and for such a record as he has left behind ! But 
 surely such a work cannot stop now. Never was the 
 call so loud or the need so urgent. There are multi- 
 tudes in the valley, not of decision, but of crime, 
 poverty, shame, drunkenness, despair. And they can- 
 not save themselves. The chains of habit are upon 
 them. The fetters of appetite bind them. The prisons 
 of despair enclose them. The memories of sin haunt 
 them. We do well then to pray that God will raise 
 up other men of the same type as Samuel H. Hadley 
 gracious, tender, winning, loving and thus carry 
 on the work to which Jesus gave himself seeking 
 and saving the lost." 
 
 Mr. Hadley was frequently invited to speak to 
 students. Among the invitations he prized most 
 highly was one that came to him almost annually 
 during the last years of his life to address the pro- 
 fessors and students of the University of Pennsyl- 
 vania. While on one of these visits he was invited to 
 speak at the Garrick Theatre, and concerning this 
 meeting the following was written : 
 
 " A REPORTER'S APPRECIATION 
 By William T. Ellis 
 
 " S. H. Hadley, known to the Bowery and the un- 
 derworld generally as ' Hopp ' Hadley, superintendent 
 of the old Jerry McAuley Mission, New York, to 
 the reading public as the author of a recent unique 
 volume, alive with human interest, ' Down in Water 
 Street/ and to church folks generally as the country's 
 foremost exponent of religious work for outcasts, ad-
 
 176 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 dressed a Philadelphia audience yesterday noon in the 
 Garrick Theatre, under the auspices of the Interde- 
 nominational Committee for Work outside of the 
 Churches, which is holding a series of noon theatre 
 meetings for business people on Thursday, a series 
 for workingmen on Sunday afternoons in the Grand 
 Opera House, and another for students on Sunday 
 evenings in the Garrick. To this last named meeting 
 Mr. Hadley will speak next Sunday night. 
 
 " Mr. Hadley does not look like a preacher. No 
 street urchin ever yelled ' dude ' after him, either. 
 Until he smiles he might pass as one of the better 
 grade of the members of Tammany Hall ; but the 
 smile shows him a saint, and Tammany Hall has no 
 niche for saints. When he speaks he displays the 
 New York tag, which twenty years' residence on the 
 Bowery has engraved rather more deeply than or- 
 dinary. There is no imminent danger of his ever 
 being called to a professorship of rhetoric in what he 
 disdainfully described as ' A Tom Paine Club, a Theo- 
 logical Cemetery.' There is a breezy colloquialism 
 and unconventionality about the man which, joined to 
 his intense earnestness, won for him a rapt attention 
 from yesterday's audience, such as more polished 
 speakers do not often secure. 
 
 " A WAY THEY HAVE ON THE BOWERY 
 
 " When half way through the Scripture lesson, a 
 portion of the Sermon on the Mount, Mr. Hadley 
 stopped to illustrate the passage, ' Him that taketh 
 away thy cloak forbid not to take thy coat also,' by 
 a story of an ex-convict and drunkard to whom had
 
 SOME PERSONAL TESTIMONIES 177 
 
 been given work in Water Street Mission and who 
 promptly stole the superintendent's overcoat. After 
 the resulting spree and arrest were over the man 
 returned. ' After every other place kicks them out, 
 even the gin mills and the penitentiaries, for we take 
 those whom the devil himself doesn't want, they come 
 back to Water Street and he was restored to his 
 former position. Again he stole another overcoat. 
 Again he came back when out of jail and was for- 
 given ; and it was that mercy which broke his heart 
 and made a man of him.' Then Mr. Hadley an- 
 nounced his text as, ' He is kind unto the unthank- 
 ful and to the evil,' saying, ' I know most of that 
 kind of Gospel.' 
 
 " WHY HE BELIEVED HIM THE DEVIL 
 
 " The address was far from being a sermon. It 
 was the recital of one man's life story, a man who 
 commenced ' with the best drinks that could be had 
 and ended in the gutter, and for some years before my 
 conversion could not get a nickel without stealing 
 it,' and who had committed one hundred and twenty- 
 five forgeries on one man alone an outcast from 
 friends, family, respectability and honesty, a habitue 
 of the lowest gin mills. ' A theological professor 
 once asked me, "Do you believe in a devil?" I said, 
 " Sure ! I've seen him and walked with him and lived 
 with him." ' 
 
 " It was in the old Jerry McAuley Cremorne Mis- 
 sion that Mr. Hadley himself was converted, twenty- 
 two years ago. He had had himself locked up for 
 several days, that he might be out of the reach of
 
 178 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 drink. ' My first prayer was in a police station, and 
 I've been back in that cell just twenty-two times since 
 to tell the Lord what I think of Him.' When re- 
 leased he went down to the Mission, and met Jerry 
 McAuley, 'The Apostle to the Drunkard.' 
 
 " For nineteen years Mr. Hadley himself has been 
 superintendent of the Mission. ' Our constituency is 
 made up of lost men. The churches have got through 
 with them, the gin mills have kicked them out. Our 
 Mission is the lowest downtown. When you get down 
 to Water Street, you cannot get any lower.' 
 
 " MIRACLES ON WATER STREET 
 
 " Describing the work of the Mission Mr. Hadley 
 told a number of stories. One was of Phil McGuire, 
 who before entering the mission had 'pawned his 
 shirt for ten cents, the price of two drinks of Fourth 
 Ward whiskey. I saw that old bum transformed, in- 
 stantly, from a thief, a drunkard and a liar, into a 
 clean-hearted, upright man, who for years thereafter 
 lived and worked in the Mission, right in my family. 
 I never saw a man more careful and just in money 
 matters. His last act before he died was to make sure 
 he had accounted for some money he held. At his 
 funeral there was such a crowd of those who loved 
 him that the house could not hold them and I had to 
 lock the door millionaires, drunks, preachers, thieves, 
 noble women and girls of the street, redeemed men 
 whom he had helped, all crowded together Water 
 Street had not seen such a sight for years. That's 
 what the Gospel is doing.' "
 
 XVI 
 
 THE FUNERAL SERVICES AT WATER 
 STREET MISSION 
 
 ONE of the most remarkable funerals ever 
 held in the city of New York was that of 
 Mr. Hadley at the Water Street Mission, 
 the scene of his victorious life. 
 
 There were present great men of affairs and poor 
 wrecks of humanity who had lost everything and had 
 passed through the door of the Mission just for the 
 privilege of looking again upon the face that had 
 always looked with love into their own wretched, sin- 
 ful hearts. 
 
 There were prominent ministers, great evangelists, 
 society ladies, as well as women who had belonged to 
 the under world in other days, but all were there for 
 a single purpose, namely, to pay a tribute to the 
 memory of a dearly loved friend. 
 
 From the beginning to the end there was not one 
 mournful note struck in the service. It was just such 
 an occasion as he himself would have been pleased 
 with. 
 
 The singing was true Water Street singing and the 
 addresses were all delivered in a triumphant tone of 
 voice, showing, that the Christian hope of a glorious 
 resurrection had gripped every speaker. 
 
 Mr. Walter M. Smith, one of the Trustees, and 
 one of the best friends the Mission ever had, as well 
 
 179
 
 180 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 as a most devoted friend of Mr. Hadley, presided at 
 the services. Without the least formality he rose and 
 said: 
 
 " While we are waiting for the family to come I am 
 going to ask Mr. Alexander to lead us in the ' Glory 
 Song.' " With this simple announcement Mr. Charles 
 M. Alexander, who has sung his way around the 
 world and into the hearts of a countless multitude of 
 Christians everywhere, the most remarkable leader of 
 evangelistic music in the world to-day, stood up, 
 brushed away the tears from his eyes, did his very 
 best to control his emotions and then said : " Friends, 
 my heart is so full this morning that I cannot sing; 
 I am going to ask Mr. Butler, who is with me, to sing 
 the verses of the Glory Song and we will all sing the 
 chorus." Mr. Charles Butler responded at once and 
 the famous Glory Song, not only the verses under 
 the matchless singing of Mr. Butler, but also the 
 chorus, thrilled us all. It was wonderful to hear the 
 people sing: 
 
 " When all my labours and trials are o'er, 
 And I am safe on that beautiful shore, 
 Just to be near the dear Lord I adore, 
 Will thro' the ages be glory for me. 
 
 " When by the gift of his infinite grace, 
 I am accorded in heaven a place, 
 Just to be there and to look on His face, 
 Will thro' the ages be glory for me. 
 
 "Friends will be there I have loved long ago; 
 Joy like a river around me will flow; 
 Yet just a smile from my Saviour, I know, 
 Will thro' the ages be glory for me.
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT MISSION 181 
 
 CHORUS : 
 
 " Oh, that will be glory for me, 
 Glory for me, glory for me, 
 When by His grace I shall look on His face, 
 That will be glory, be glory for me." 
 
 One of Mr. Hadley's favourite songs was an adap- 
 tation of words to the music of " Old Black Joe." A 
 quartet of his friends rendered this selection with most 
 telling effect. At Mr. Smith's request Dr. J. Wilbur 
 Chapman offered the invocation. 
 
 Miss Bertha Irene Chapman sang " The Name of 
 Jesus." It was one of Mr. Hadley's favourite songs 
 and she had often sung it for him. 
 
 Mr. Walter M. Smith said : " Dear friends, I have 
 been told by our dear brother, and he has also told 
 it in his book, that when he was first called to preside 
 as superintendent of this Mission, after long days of 
 prayer on the part of himself and his dear wife, they 
 selected the fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah, from the 
 third to the twelfth verses, as an answer to their prayer ; 
 and it seems to me that nothing out of the sacred 
 Word could be more appropriate than to again read 
 that lesson, and I am going to ask the Rev. Dr. Pier- 
 son to do this for us." 
 
 Dr. A. T. Pierson said : " Before I read, let me say 
 with reference to that hymn which has just been sung 
 that I never heard a man speak the name of Jesus 
 as Samuel Hadley did. It has had new music in it 
 ever since I heard him say it ; I never knew a man 
 that threw so much heart into the pronunciation of 
 the name of Jesus as Hadley did." Dr. Pierson then 
 read the portion of Scripture, which is as follows:
 
 182 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " Wherefore have we fasted, say they, and thou 
 seest not? wherefore have we afflicted our soul, and 
 thou takest no knowledge? Behold, in the day of 
 your fast ye find pleasure, and exact all your labours. 
 Behold, ye fast for strife and debate, and to smite 
 with the fist of wickedness ; ye shall not fast as ye 
 do this day, to make your voice to be heard on high. 
 
 " Is it such a fast that I have chosen ? a day 
 for a man to afflict his soul ? is it to bow down his head 
 as a bulrush, and to spread sackcloth and ashes under 
 him? wilt thou call this a fast, and an acceptable day 
 to the Lord? 
 
 " Is not this the fast that I have chosen ? to loose 
 the bands of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, 
 and to let the oppressed go free, and that ye break 
 every yoke? 
 
 " Is it not to deal thy bread to the hungry, and that 
 thou bring the poor that are cast out to thy house? 
 when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him ; and 
 that thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh? 
 
 " Then shall thy light break forth as the morning, 
 and thine health shall spring forth speedily ; and thy 
 righteousness shall go before thee ; the glory of the 
 Lord shall be thy reward. 
 
 " Then shall thou call, and the Lord shall answer ; 
 thou shalt cry and he will say, Here I am. If thou 
 take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the put- 
 ting forth of the finger, and speaking vanity ; 
 
 " And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and 
 satisfy the afflicted soul ; then shall thy light rise in 
 obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noon day. 
 
 " And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and 
 satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones;
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT MISSION 183 
 
 and them shalt be like a watered garden, and like a 
 spring of water, whose waters fail not. 
 
 "And they that shall be of thee shall build the old 
 waste places ; thou shalt raise up the foundations of 
 many generations ; and thou shall be called, The re- 
 pairer of the breach, The Restorer of paths to dwell 
 in" (ISAIAH Iviii. 3-12). 
 
 Mr. Walter M. Smith said : " Our dear friend has 
 told us that, upon the occasion of his first meeting as 
 superintendent of this Mission before he came down- 
 stairs, he looked down through yonder window at the 
 gathering throng and felt appalled, and he said he felt 
 abashed. So he went back into the little room at the 
 side of the window, which he occupied as his office, 
 and falling down on his knees he asked the Lord to 
 give him a token, and that the token might be one soul. 
 He said the reason he didn't ask for a score was per- 
 haps that he hadn't faith enough to ask for more. 
 But he did ask for one ; and when he gave the invita- 
 tion, a single hand was uplifted, and a single soul came 
 forward and was saved, and that soul, dear friends, 
 in the shape of a mortal man is here before us ; and 
 I think nothing could be more appropriate on this 
 occasion than to ask Mr. James C. Edwards to give 
 us his testimony as that saved man." 
 
 Standing beside the casket Mr. Edwards said: 
 " Friends, I don't know what to say. I feel to-day 
 that I have lost not only a friend, but a brother. 
 Nineteen years and nine months and eleven days and 
 eleven nights ago I came staggering into those doors 
 there, a homeless, lost drunkard. I had been a drunk- 
 ard from my boyhood. I stood 'way down by the door 
 there, drunk. I don't remember what Brother Hadley
 
 184 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 said, or what prayers were prayed, but I know this 
 much, that I got up here somehow to the front and 
 one dear soul came to me and knelt down beside me. 
 I mean Mrs. Hadley, God bless her. That night 
 when I got off my knees the desire for rum and every- 
 thing else evil had gone out of me. I went down on 
 my knees drunk, but God saved me sober, and the best 
 part of it is I have been sober ever since. I am not 
 a bum, not a tramp on the streets of New York; my 
 employer, who is sitting, on the platform, can tell you 
 what I have been since then. It is only the grace of 
 God that did it. 
 
 " I recall that when Brother Hadley was putting up 
 the tablet over there to the memory of Jerry McAuley 
 he was in doubt about what text to put at the bottom 
 of the inscription, but finally decided on ' He resteth 
 from his labours and his works do follow him.' That 
 is just what Brother Hadley is doing to-day, resting 
 from his labours, and his works will follow him. I 
 know that thousands upon thousands will miss S. H. 
 Hadley, even if it is for nothing else than the kind 
 word he used to give, and the warm ' God bless you ! ' 
 and shake of the hand. I ask you, friends, to pray for 
 me and for the rest of us in this hall to-day." 
 
 Mr. W. M. Smith said : " Friends, one whom I 
 know to have been very close to our brother, and who 
 was present and presided at the meeting to which I 
 have referred, was Mr. R. Fulton Cutting, and I am 
 sure we would be glad to hear a few words from 
 him." 
 
 Mr. R. Fulton Cutting said : " This hardly seems 
 to be the time for many words. It is true I have 
 known Mr. Hadley since he first took charge of the
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT MISSION 185 
 
 work. When he first came in there were a few good 
 people who distrusted him ; it made it pretty hard for 
 him at first, as it always does for a man who is sin- 
 cerely trying to do the best he can. But he replied 
 with the only unanswerable reply, a life of consistent 
 consecration. He knew there was One who trusted 
 him all the time; One who perfectly understood him, 
 to whom he could tell his whole heart. But Hadley 
 found a great many men in his after life who had 
 confidence in him, who would trust him perhaps next 
 to their God, because they knew him. He was one 
 of those genuine men. He spoke his mind right 
 straight out. 
 
 "Another characteristic of Hadley's was his in- 
 tensely shrewd common sense. He was a deeply 
 emotional man, as we all know, but his emotion never 
 carried him beyond the limits of solid common sense. 
 There is such a thing as zeal without knowledge; it's 
 a great deal better than knowledge without zeal, but 
 still we do make mistakes sometimes in the excess of 
 emotionalism. Hadley rarely made them. A man of 
 the most abiding optimism, he trusted all that came 
 near him to such a degree that he conveyed his optim- 
 ism to them and made them trust themselves when 
 nothing else outside the power of God could have 
 done. He used his mind as well as his heart down 
 here. 
 
 " Now let us see whether we cannot make his 
 memory a living thing to every one of us, to go with 
 us all through the rest of our lives ; practise something 
 of his genuineness, his common sense, but above all 
 his entire and single-hearted consecration to his Mas- 
 ter. We will honour him by so doing as we never
 
 186 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 could honour him in any other way. We can build 
 monuments, pass all kinds of resolutions, and do all 
 sorts of things, but the monument he would like us to 
 set up is a monument in our own hearts, the influence 
 of which shall pass out from our hearts into the lives 
 of others, and make itself to a certain degree the re- 
 embodiment of his devoted spirit, to go out and try 
 to do what he did for others." 
 
 Mr. W. M. Smith next asked the Trustees of the 
 Mission to say a few words in appreciation of Mr. 
 Hadley's life and work. 
 
 Mr. W. T. Wardwell said: "Dear friends, I feel 
 like my Brother Alexander, the singer: I can't speak 
 to-day. Whatever I say I say with a sob in my voice, 
 and I only want to say that I loved Brother Hadley 
 with all my heart, I trusted him with all my heart, I 
 believed in him with my whole soul. Yesterday when 
 I was thinking about his death, wondering why he 
 should have been taken away, and trying in a dim 
 way to understand just what the reason might be, the 
 thought came into my mind, perhaps after all the 
 Lord wanted him and He has said to him, ' You have 
 worked long enough for Me, Hadley, come up to your 
 reward.' And I couldn't help thinking what a joyous 
 time he must have had with all those who have gone 
 up from this room and with all the friends he had in 
 this city." 
 
 Mr. W. E. Lougee said : " It has been said by one 
 of our silver-tongued orators that from time imme- 
 morial it has been a beautiful custom to mingle with 
 our mourning for the dead eulogy for their well-spent 
 lives. Eulogies are not needed in the presence of this 
 gathering to-day for our dear Brother Hadley. His
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT MISSION 187 
 
 life speaks of what he did far more loudly than words 
 could tell. There were characteristics in his life that 
 made it a benediction and a blessing to us who came 
 in contact with him on business lines as well as the 
 saving of men. That consuming passion for lost men 
 was shown all his life. ' Lord, spare my life a little 
 longer that I may patch up a few more souls.' Not 
 for his home or family; not for any other work; but 
 for lost men, for whom he had given his life. ' Spare 
 me that I may patch up a few more broken lives.' 
 
 " Our Master was once approached by His disciples 
 and asked, ' How often shall we forgive a man, until 
 seven times ? ' Jesus looked at them with that won- 
 derful compassion that shone out of His eyes in His 
 love for lost men and said, ' Not until seven times, 
 but until seventy times seven.' And that was Had- 
 ley's life, helping a man when human patience would 
 have been all gone ; you and I wouldn't have been 
 patient with them as our Lord and Hadley were. But 
 He loved them, and He had patience with them, He 
 bound up their wounds. And that was Hadley 's life, 
 and that is the life that appeals to us. Is it worth 
 much ? I tell you, as we think of the life that Hadley 
 led these nineteen years, and of the lives he has 
 touched, doesn't it inspire you to a deeper consecra- 
 tion, a deeper longing for lost men, so that when you 
 come to lie where our friend Hadley lies you may, as 
 he, be loved and honoured of all and accepted by the 
 Master whom he served ? " 
 
 Mr. S. W. Bowne said : " Dear friends, I am very 
 glad to add my tribute to Brother Hadley on this 
 occasion. When I heard that he had gone to his 
 reward I felt that something had gone out of my life ;
 
 188 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 I felt a loss such as I have rarely felt even among the 
 dearest of friends and relatives. He has been a great 
 blessing to me for a number of years. He has been 
 an inspiration to my life. He has made me a better 
 man. And I feel to-day a great personal grief at 
 Brother Hadley's passing away. He was a dear man, 
 a magnificent man, a man in every sense of the word, 
 and with it all, as Brother Cutting has said, a man of 
 great common sense. 
 
 " I remember when we talked of our Mission in the 
 Bowery, after looking over the ground I rather de- 
 precated going there, but he didn't agree with me. 
 He said, ' No, we'll fill this place.' He was right, 
 and I was wrong; the place was filled, and they are 
 doing a great work at the Bowery as well as here, as 
 many of us know. When he would come into my 
 office for an appeal I never thought for a moment of 
 refusing what he asked, because I knew it was the 
 best thing I could do. Friends, we have met with a 
 great loss. I hope the Lord will raise up someone to 
 take his place. We can't expect another Hadley to 
 fill his place, but may we have some strong man to 
 carry on the Lord's work." 
 
 Mr. John S. Huyler said : " Dear friends, I with 
 the rest of you feel our great loss. I shall always re- 
 member our Brother Hadley with great affection, but 
 especially for the fact that he has taught me the sim- 
 plicity of the religion of our Lord Jesus Christ. I 
 remember one night we were in Northfield, and he 
 was going through the halls singing ' You ask what 
 makes me happy,' and it was beautiful to hear his 
 voice. And then we got down to say our prayers be- 
 fore going to bed, and he said, ' Dear Lord, we thank
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT MISSION 189 
 
 Thee for the change that can come into a man's life. 
 Here we are to-day, surrounded by friends, everything 
 is pleasant. And this is Thy service. How well I 
 remember that when in the service of the devil I 
 wanted two cents to go across the ferry and couldn't 
 get it ! ' It was that simplicity of his love and his 
 realisation of what the Master can do that has always 
 been so helpful to us. I had the pleasure of being 
 with him for about six weeks, day and night ; we ate 
 together, we slept in the same place ; and wherever 
 he was he was always on the hunt for souls. I re- 
 member that at the Grand Canyon at Colorado Had- 
 ley was very much impressed at the beauty of the 
 scene, and we were all lost in admiration at it. But 
 still Hadley found one other thing there that we didn't 
 find. I happened to look out of the car window, and 
 there stood Hadley with two Indians, their two hands 
 one upon the other, and on the top of that was his 
 little Bible; their hats were off, and he was raising 
 his heart to his Jesus for those poor Indians who had 
 never known anything of Him. God bless the memory 
 of our brother." 
 
 Mr. W. M. Smith said : " I have a very dear friend 
 at my side who first introduced me to Brother Hadley 
 and I don't think we would be quite satisfied unless 
 we heard a few words from him who, while never 
 connected officially with the Mission, has always been 
 its firm supporter, Mr. R. L. Cutter. 
 
 Mr. Cutter said : " Dear friends, it is needless for 
 me to say how deeply I mourn the loss of this beloved 
 man, but his loss to me is gain to him. When our 
 blessed Lord was here the Pharisees addressed Him 
 in terms of reproach as ' a friend of publicans and
 
 190 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 sinners.' I thank God He was such a friend, for He 
 became my friend and Saviour, and I am trusting 
 Him. And Hadley on the same lines was a friend 
 of sinners. Oh, what would he not do to bring the 
 Gospel of Jesus to a poor, lost, low-down, suffering 
 man or woman. We all know that tender love, the 
 quality of love which Jesus had, and which I have 
 never seen equalled in any other life I have ever met. 
 God bless to us this service of memorial and of love, 
 for I know it is, and may we all be permitted, through 
 the salvation of Jesus which He has perfected for 
 every man and woman in this room if we will but 
 accept Him, to come at last into that glory where our 
 friend now is." 
 
 Mr. W. M. Smith said : " There are probably two 
 hundred people in this room, that would be glad 
 to testify of their real love for our dear brother, and 
 to the saving and keeping power of our Lord and 
 Saviour Jesus Christ. It is manifestly impossible for 
 us to hear from all, but it seems to me, dear friends, 
 that we can stand on our feet, and, in mute eloquence, 
 bow our heads for a minute or two and ask God to 
 bless this meeting and bless every soul in His pres- 
 ence. What more can I say? I can only say this one 
 thing. I want this demonstration from the congre- 
 gation, that they love and revere His name and 
 that they will consecrate themselves anew to His 
 service, that they will put their arms of love around 
 those who labour for Him, and that this Mission will 
 go on and on and on as long as the world exists and 
 dying men need salvation. Let us all rise, and bow 
 our heads in silent prayer, after which one of our
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT MISSION 191 
 
 trustees, Hon. M. Linn Bruce, Lieutenant-Governor 
 of New York State will lead us." 
 
 Lieutenant-Governor Bruce prayed as follows: 
 " Blessed Saviour, standing in the place where Thy 
 servant laboured for Thee for so many years, help 
 each one of us to consecrate ourselves anew to Thy 
 service. Help us not to weep for him who is with 
 Thee to-day, but give us a consciousness of the re- 
 sponsibility that rests upon us in the added service 
 which Thou wilt require of us in that he is gone ; and 
 may each one here bow the knee and the heart and 
 the life to Thy service, to the service of Thee, Oh 
 blessed Christ, for whom he gave his life, his ener- 
 gies, of body, mind and heart; and may this great 
 and glorious work here which he has carried on here 
 for the salvation of men be carried on by those who 
 remain. Wilt Thou help those who are near and dear 
 to him, whose hearts are saddened to-day with the 
 comfort which Thou alone canst give, and which the 
 world cannot take away ; may they feel and know that 
 he is with Thee, awaiting their coming ; and may each 
 one of us day by day live nearer and closer to Thee 
 in the hope of that glorious immortality which shall 
 come through Thee when Thou shalt call us home. 
 We ask it for Christ's sake." 
 
 Mr. W. M. Smith said : " Some of you may expect 
 a word from me about the last illness of our brother. 
 I visited him several times at the hospital, and I want 
 to give you one or two messages. Others have said 
 how near he has been to them. I don't think there 
 is a soul in this room outside of his family that 
 cherished his friendship and love more dearly than I
 
 192 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 did. He visited my family two weeks ago last Sat- 
 urday, and he spoke twice on Sunday, in the afternoon 
 to a congregation of men and in the evening to a 
 congregation of young people. I never heard him 
 give his testimony with so much fervour and with 
 such marvellous eloquence. It seemed almost as 
 though the shadow of his approaching death was upon 
 him. We came to New York on the Monday morning, 
 and he complained a little of pain ; he said he thought 
 he had an attack of his old trouble. I advised him to 
 go up and see the doctor. He thought perhaps he 
 would. But on Tuesday he came up to our store, 
 and had a short talk with Mr. Cutter and myself. 
 He said to us as he left, ' I won't ask you for another 
 cent again this year.' How prophetic those words 
 were. I saw him, as I have said, in the hospital. He 
 seemed very glad to see me, and inquired after me 
 when I left. I went into his room with Mr. Huyler. 
 He was loath to have an operation performed, as he 
 was afraid his heart wouldn't stand the shock; the 
 surgeons, however, insisted it was the only thing 
 to do and that without it he would not live five hours. 
 He said to Mr. Huyler, ' Living or dying, I am the 
 Lord's,' and I love to think of that as the last expres- 
 sion of his heart and soul. His mind wandered a 
 little after that, and whenever it did wander he always 
 spoke of Water Street. He had a regular Water 
 Street service in that little room all by himself and 
 his Lord ; he prayed, he sang, he gave the invitation 
 just the same as he had always done, and apparently 
 he was perfectly happy in doing it. I don't know 
 that I ought to bring a personal matter in here, but 
 somehow or other my heart compels me to do it. He
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT MISSION 193 
 
 was one of seven that three or four years ago formed 
 what we called our own little circle; and we agreed 
 that every Saturday night as long as we lived at the 
 hour most convenient to us before we retired, we would 
 each ask God's blessing upon the others and upon the 
 particular work in which they might be engaged. 
 That circle is broken so far as this earth is concerned ; 
 but in talking with two of the members we each ex- 
 pressed the same idea that we would never ask anyone 
 to take his place in that circle: for we expect every 
 Saturday night that he will be with us in spirit, and 
 therefore we shall go on until there is only one left 
 on earth. 
 
 " I wonder, dear friends, if there is a single unsaved 
 soul in this room? I do believe this meeting would 
 not be blessed of God unless an invitation were here 
 given by the side of these dear remains. You know 
 what he would have said if he were here. ' Twenty- 
 three years, nine months and twenty days ago I gave 
 my heart to the Lord Jesus Christ.' We are going to 
 close this meeting with prayer, and I want to ask 
 anybody in this room if they feel as though the Lord 
 Jesus Christ were present here by His Holy Spirit to 
 raise his or her hand, and by so doing say I want an 
 interest in this prayer, and in this meeting. 
 
 Rev. Ford C. Ottman, D. D., one of Mr. Hadley's 
 truest friends, closed the service with prayer. 
 
 The service at Water Street was closed by the sing- 
 ing of " Oh, it is Wonderful ! " by the audience, and 
 of " I must tell Jesus," by the quartet.
 
 XVII 
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT JOHN STREET 
 METHODIST CHURCH 
 
 ATER the services had been concluded at 
 Water Street a great company of redeemed 
 men followed the hearse bearing the precious 
 remains through the streets of the lower part of New 
 York ; following these men came the Trustees, a num- 
 ber of them New York's most representative business 
 men, and following the Trustees came a great com- 
 pany of sorrowing friends, many of whom could not 
 refrain from weeping as they realised the loss they 
 had sustained in the going away of this man of God. 
 Special seats had been reserved at the old John Street 
 church. The building was crowded, the audience be- 
 ing packed out into the streets. The services in the 
 church were opened with prayer, Dr. John Willis Baer 
 being called upon for the invocation. He prayed as 
 follows : 
 
 " God, our Father in Heaven, though our eyes be 
 filled with tears yet we do not come to-day to mourn 
 a defeat, but to celebrate a victory; and although we 
 find our tongues faltering, yet our hearts are conscious 
 of the same abiding faith that our friend had in his 
 everyday life. This will be for some of us a strange 
 world without him, and yet we must go on. O God, 
 teach us how to love the way that man loved. Teach 
 us how to refuse to be disappointed in man and never 
 
 194
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 195 
 
 to be discouraged; show us how more and more we 
 can have so much of Thee, that everyone seeing us 
 will see Thee. And as we gather here at this casket 
 side this noon, we turn our eyes with the eyes of faith 
 to the very gates of heaven, and rejoice that with 
 him to-day there are bright stars for his crown. O 
 God, may we never go empty handed before Thee. 
 And we ask Thee that every word that shall be said 
 and done here now shall be of that kind that would 
 not only please him were he with us, as he is, but will 
 help us all in our lives to go on and fight, and fight, 
 and fight harder for Thee. Be with everyone that has 
 been led to Thee by him. Let every man understand 
 now more than he ever understood before that God 
 expects him to do his best and to pick up this work 
 and carry it forward until the last day. Give us a 
 continual and abiding interest in it for the sake of 
 Jesus Christ. Amen." 
 
 The pastor, Dr. Johnson, asked the quartet to 
 finish the hymn that had been commenced in Water 
 Street, " I must tell Jesus." 
 
 Dr. J. Ross Stevenson, who read the first lesson, 
 said : " No more appropriate Scripture lesson could 
 be found, and no more appropriate commentary on 
 the life of our dear friend could be found than the 
 I3th chapter of ist Corinthians, which I shall read." 
 
 Dr. Randall J. North read ist Cor. xv. 41-58 as 
 the second Scripture lesson. 
 
 Miss Bertha Irene Chapman sang, " Thy Will be 
 Done." 
 
 At this point Dr. A. T. Pierson spoke, saying: 
 
 " There are two ways of looking at such an event 
 as this. One is to look at it as the close of a life;
 
 196 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 the other way is to look at it as the beginning of a 
 life. Looking at it as the close of a life I am inv 
 pressed that there is not a man living that is adequate 
 to write a true story of the career of S. H. Hadley. 
 I have never known a man that equalled him as a 
 winner of souls. I do not believe that the Church of 
 Jesus Christ in this country has sustained so severe a 
 loss in half a century as it sustains to-day. Hadley 
 was a Christian statesman. 
 
 " There are seven problems that confront society 
 that the wisest men in the church and in the state 
 have found themselves unable to solve: the problem 
 of drink; the problem of lust; the problem of crime; 
 the problem of labour and capital ; the problem of dis- 
 tance between church and masses ; the problem of the 
 uplifting of American negroes; and the problem of 
 reaching the outcast classes. While we have been 
 talking about the last problem Samuel H. Hadley has 
 been working, and while we have been scheming to 
 solve it he has been practically solving it. God has 
 His Hall of Fame, but no human judges determine 
 who shall have a monument and a memorial within 
 it. God sees not as man sees; man looks on the out- 
 ward appearance, but the Lord looketh upon the 
 heart. But He gives us some conception in His 
 blessed Word as to the conditions of a place within 
 the Celestial Hall of Fame. Those are counted worthy 
 of a place there who have a simplicity like that of a 
 little child, who have a soul humility, and are great 
 in God's eyes because they are little in their own ; 
 and especially those who are willing to learn the 
 sweet lesson of cheerful sacrifice of self for the salva- 
 tion of others. I submit to anyone that knew Mr.
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 197 
 
 Iladley whether he had not these three great attri- 
 butes and characteristics: a childlike simplicity, a 
 lowly humility, and a mighty passion for human souls. 
 He has learned that suffering is the price of service. 
 If ever a man learned the lesson of cheerful self- 
 abnegation it was Samuel Hadley. He was content 
 to starve that others might be fed; to deprive himself 
 of what seemed necessary that more imperative needs 
 might be supplied. He would take off his coat to 
 clothe a naked man, and he would give away his last 
 cent to help a poor one. But in nothing was he more 
 remarkable than in the inexhaustible patience that he 
 manifested toward those whom he sought to help. 
 
 " I said to him one day, ' Hadley, don't you often 
 get cheated ? ' He said, ' Cheated is no word for it.' 
 'Does your patience never give out?' He replied, 
 ' Never, by God's grace. His patience has never given 
 out with me. If a man beats me nineteen times I 
 shame him by trusting him the twentieth.' And this 
 was the simple truth about this wonderfully Christlike 
 man. I tell you, beloved, some of us who have perhaps 
 been more conspicuous before the public eye will take 
 a back seat in the heavenly mansions and see him 
 march to the front line. 
 
 " But there is quite another way to look at this 
 event, as the beginning of another life. I think one 
 of the severest tests of the genuineness of our Chris- 
 tianity is a funeral occasion. We give to the world 
 a great deal of flat contradiction of our theories when 
 we come to stand about the bier of the dead. We 
 profess to believe that death is the vestibule to an 
 eternal life ; that to pass through death as a Christian 
 believer is to enter into the presence of the Lord
 
 198 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 Jesus and the company of glorified saints. But no 
 outsider looking upon many of our gatherings around 
 the body of the dead would have any idea that we held 
 so sublime and so uplifting a doctrine. I have been 
 seeking, especially in the later years of my life, to 
 rise to an attitude where I could make the truth Jesus 
 taught us in Christian faith a reality to myself and 
 those about me, and to act as I stand beside the bier 
 of such a man as Hadley somewhat as I believe our 
 Lord Jesus Christ would have us act in the presence 
 of the death of a saint. We must not forget his 
 infinite gain in our unspeakable loss ; we must think 
 of him as in the presence of the Jesus whom he so 
 devotedly loved. ' The lame man leaps as an hart/ 
 and his eyes with transfigured vision look on the 
 glory of the Christ whom he loved, adored, and 
 imitated. 
 
 " Now there are four Scriptures that I would like 
 to bring to your notice with great brevity, but simply 
 by way of suggestion. They let a flood of light upon 
 the whole subject of the believer's death. 
 
 " The first is what Christ said to the Sadducees. You 
 know they were the doubters of His day ; they not 
 only believed that there was no resurrection for the 
 body, but that there was no disembodied existence for 
 the spirit. And Christ said to them by way of rebuke 
 that God was called the God of Abram and of Isaac 
 and of Jacob, and He said, ' God is not the God of the 
 dead, but of the living, for all live unto Him/ and 
 the only way to understand those words is to under- 
 stand that He represented those whom we call dead 
 as living. This man is not dead ; he never lived before 
 in the highest sense. You look upon not Hadley, but
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 199 
 
 Hadley's discarded mortal tenement. As Socrates 
 said, ' You may bury me if you can catch me.' It 
 is not in the power of anybody to bury S. H. Hadley. 
 The Hadley we love is there [pointing upwards]. 
 
 " Then I want you to notice what our Lord said 
 about the Father's house of many mansions. And the 
 Father's house isn't merely heaven; the Father's 
 house is the universe. Every house is built by some- 
 one, but He that built all things is God. The Father's 
 house is the universe. This is part of it. There are 
 other mansions higher up, beyond the mist and the 
 clouds, and death is the leaving of the lower apart- 
 ments and going up the golden spiral staircase to the 
 higher rooms. We must not think of death as the 
 cessation of existence, or the interruption of existence. 
 It is the change of sphere. And this beloved man has 
 simply gone out of the low, dark, damp, earth-room; 
 the curtain has fallen behind him, and he has gone up 
 the shining stairs to the upper apartments, to look out 
 beyond clouds and darkness and shadow on the eternal 
 realities of God. 
 
 " Now, there is another Scripture I'll call your at- 
 tention to. I will not tarry longer, but it is the most 
 important of all. In the fourteenth chapter of Revela- 
 tions occurs that marvellous post-Pentecostal view of 
 death : ' And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto 
 me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
 from henceforth ; Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may 
 rest from their labours; and their works do follow 
 them.' 
 
 " Now, I submit to anyone who knows the original 
 that these words do not properly convey the sense of 
 the original. In the first place, will vou notice the
 
 200 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 two words that seem to us synonymous, ' labours ' and 
 ' works.' They are not the same in the English ; they 
 are not the same in the original. ' They rest from 
 their labours ' ; that word means ' toils that are vex- 
 atious/ toils that imply brain sweat and brow sweat, 
 discouragement and difficulty, toils where we have 
 all we can do to get through with the work. When 
 the Christian dies he rests from all his vexatious and 
 toilsome labour. ' Works ' mean ' activities.' Ac- 
 tivities don't cease when a man dies ; they then more 
 gloriously begin. And although that word is trans- 
 lated ' follow,' the original is ' go with them.' They 
 rest from their toilsome, vexatious labour, but their 
 holy activities go with them into the world beyond. 
 Do you suppose that man is idle ? My friends, he has 
 got more to do for God than he ever had. 
 
 " Charles Haddon Spurgeon said, ' Do you suppose 
 that when I die I, who have preached to 8,000 people 
 on every Lord's Day, am going to do nothing? I may 
 be preaching to 50,000 where I preach to 5,000.' Some 
 work God has for S. H. Hadley, and his activities have 
 gone with him into the eternal. What his work is we 
 don't know, but you don't suppose that God is going 
 to train a man for service, and then just as he is ready 
 for service take him away from all spheres of service? 
 Do you suppose they sit up there on golden chairs 
 meditating? 'They rest not day nor night,' not only 
 from acts of worship, but from acts of service. 
 
 " I feel ashamed when I go through our ceme- 
 teries and see the memorials of our dead. I went 
 through a cemetery one day and watched the me- 
 morials, broken columns over Christians' graves, 
 quenched fires, flowers plucked from their stems,
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 201 
 
 withered and fallen to pieces, the memorials of defeat, 
 despair, disaster, and destruction. And the only me- 
 morial I saw that was fit for a Christian was a full- 
 sculptured sheaf of wheat over the grave of the worst 
 man I ever knew. 
 
 " That is the way our Christian faith contradicts our 
 Christian testimony ; that is the way our Christian 
 testimony contradicts our Christian faith. My be- 
 loved, let me give you as I sit down an epitaph for 
 Samuel Hadley. I would like to see these words 
 engraved upon the headstone where his body lies : 
 
 " ' When the ear heard me, then it blessed me ; and 
 when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me; because 
 I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and 
 him that had none to help him. The blessing of him 
 that was ready to perish came upon me ; and I caused 
 the widow's heart to sing for joy. I was eyes to the 
 blind, and feet was I to the lame. I was a father to 
 the poor.' " 
 
 J. Wilbur Chapman delivered the funeral oration, 
 which was as follows : 
 
 " Dear friends, I feel we have come to-day to pay 
 our tribute not only to one of the greatest men that 
 New York has produced, but I feel as if I had the 
 right to say that we have come to pay our tribute to 
 one of the greatest men that our country has known in 
 a generation. We never could measure his great- 
 ness in money, although I suppose very few men in 
 Christian work have been able to command so great 
 means as he. You never could measure his great- 
 ness in fame, as men speak of fame. 
 
 " But if you measure his greatness in love for the 
 lost, and in a passion for souls, and in a desire to be
 
 202 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 like Jesus Christ, he was the greatest man that New 
 York has seen in a century. And I can say with 
 truth to-day that I had rather with this memory be 
 Samuel H. Hadley lying here in this casket, with all 
 these sorrowing friends about, but rejoicing while 
 they sorrow, than to be any other living man I know. 
 If I speak briefly to-day you will attribute it, I am 
 sure, to a full heart, and if I should speak brokenly, 
 I am sure you will attribute it to an expression of the 
 sense of sorrow which I feel this afternoon. 
 
 " It is as if one were called to stand beside the 
 casket of his brother, and yet he was more to me 
 than a brother. It is as if one should be asked to 
 stand by the casket of a member of his own house- 
 hold and try to say these words, for I think I loved 
 him as I love one of my own flesh and blood. He 
 was the dearest soul I have ever known, and the 
 greatest. For twenty-three years, nine months, and 
 seventeen days he served the Lord Jesus Christ. He 
 was great any way you may look at him. 
 
 " He had a great ancestry. The blood of Jona- 
 than Edwards throbbed in his veins, and I suppose 
 that gave him something of his concern for the lost. 
 His father was a great man ; his mother was a sweet, 
 gentle soul. Dr. Pierson said over in Water Street 
 that he never had heard anybody speak the name of 
 Jesus as Samuel Hadley spoke it. There is another 
 name I should like to add to that: I think I never 
 heard anybody say the word ' mother ' as he said it. 
 I have sat by his side in the railroad train, visited with 
 him in my home, and never tired of hearing him tell 
 the story of his noble mother. He was a great man 
 in his ancestry.
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 203 
 
 " In the second place, he had a great fall ; he made 
 a sad wreck of his life. I have heard his story, I 
 suppose, hundreds of times, and I never have heard 
 him tell of the depths of his shame that I have not 
 felt myself shudder. I have said every time I have 
 heard him tell his story, ' Surely, that cannot be so ! ' 
 He was a man of the finest spirit I have ever seen; 
 he hated everything that was mean and low. And to 
 imagine this dear, sweet soul as having ever gone to 
 the depths of sin described by him so often is to me 
 an inconceivable thing. He made a great wreck of 
 his life. 
 
 " But he had a great repentance. Not long ago I 
 heard the Bishop of Connecticut preach an evangelistic 
 sermon ; he was speaking about repentance, and said 
 that when one repented he had to go back as far to God 
 as he had gone away from Him. But I thought as 
 I sat listening to the Bishop that the difference be- 
 tween coming back and going away was this, that 
 when you went back you had Jesus with you. So 
 this man wandered far away from Him ; but in all these 
 twenty-three years, nine months, and seventeen days 
 he kept step with Jesus Christ as I never have known 
 a man to keep step. He was the most like Jesus 
 Christ as he limped his way through the streets of 
 our city and into our homes of any man I have ever 
 seen. And I had rather have my friends say that 
 about me, and so would you, than to have them say 
 that I was the greatest man the world had ever known. 
 
 " He had a great recovery from his falling away 
 from God, and the great recovery was manifested in 
 the complete transformation of his nature. I never 
 have known a man that had such a passion for souls. I
 
 204 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 have heard him say that he used to swear in his sleep. 
 I look down at that precious face to-day, and think 
 of those lips ever framing an oath, and think of them 
 as I have heard him preach the glorious Gospel of 
 the Cross as I never heard any man preach it, and I 
 say, ' What a marvellous transformation ! ' That is 
 grace. I never have known a man in all my minis- 
 try, as Dr. Pierson has said, that would go as far 
 after the lost, wait so long for them to return, deal 
 with them so patiently, and love them so persistently 
 as this man who had the great recovery in Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 " And he always preached a great salvation. There 
 never was a man too low for him. He used to say 
 at our Bible Conference that when men were kicked 
 out of every other place in the city they had their best 
 welcome at Water Street. I have never read the an- 
 nouncement of his services in the Saturday papers 
 that my eyes haven't been blurred with tears and my 
 heart hasn't given a great bound when he has written, 
 ' Everybody welcome, drunkards especially.' There 
 never was a man so far away but S. H. Hadley had 
 a Gospel for him. There never was a woman so 
 depraved in all this world but he had a word of cheer 
 for; and there are women to-day in this city of New 
 York who feel as if they had lost indeed the best friend 
 that ever lived for them in the going away of this 
 saint of God. He had a great recovery. 
 
 " I have been told that at the foot of the cliff over 
 against the Castle Merrion, the castle that used to 
 be occupied by the Emperor Maximilian of Mexico, 
 that away down eighty feet below the surface of the 
 Adriatic there is a little bit of a crevice that has been
 
 cut in the cliff, and down in that cleft there are some 
 of the most priceless pearls that are known. They 
 belong to an archduchess. They have not been worn 
 for a long time, and experts decided that the only thing 
 that could bring back their brilliancy was to give 
 them this continual bath in the sea. And these ex- 
 perts say that these pearls which have gone ' sick,' as 
 the experts say, are now coming back to their old 
 brilliancy. And pearl-fishers say that the deeper the 
 water the more priceless the pearl. I do not know 
 whether that is true or not, but I do know this, dear 
 friends, that what the sea is doing to-day for those 
 priceless pearls of the archduchess, Samuel H. Hadley 
 did for lost men here in this city of New York. Mr. 
 Edwards, I wish you would stand up just a moment; 
 you can do it. This is the first man that Samuel Had- 
 ley ever won to Jesus Christ after taking .charge of 
 the Water Street Mission. Stand out near the cas- 
 ket, Mr. Edwards ; you will like to stand near him. 
 And if we had time this afternoon I should ask all of 
 these men to file past this casket, and ask you to sit 
 and look on. Oh, but he preached a marvellous sal- 
 vation. His was a great, great story, this life trans- 
 formed and transfigured, and the lives of hundreds 
 of men in and outside of this church. Do you wonder 
 that I say to-day, dear friends, that I consider him one 
 of the greatest men that our city as well as our land 
 has known? Remain standing there a moment, Mr. 
 Edwards, though I know it will cause the tears of 
 some of you to flow as you sit looking into his face, 
 but you will love my brother more. 
 
 " The first time I ever saw him was in a dive in this 
 city. I was preaching near this city, and one of my
 
 206 S. 'H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 friends said, ' Would you like to see New York at 
 its worst ? ' I said, ' I would.' He said, ' Come with 
 me, and I'll give you a guide.' We came across the 
 ferry and went down to the lowest part of the city, 
 and there I saw this man of God. He said, ' I'll take 
 you into some of the saloons.' I saw him throw his 
 arms about a poor, drunken man and cry over him. 
 I walked with him into a place of ill-fame, and I 
 saw him lay his hand on the head of a young girl 
 painted and sinful, and saw the hot tears rain down 
 his cheeks and fall upon her upturned face. I saw 
 him go into one of the lowest dens of the city and 
 take in his arms just as many people as could get near 
 him, and I heard him sing. It was the sweetest sing- 
 ing I have ever heard. I have heard Patti sing, but 
 Patti never thrilled me as this man thrilled me when- 
 ever he sang. And when we came out of this place 
 of sin he stopped for a moment under the gaslight, 
 and I looked up into his face, and he said, ' Well, I 
 must be going now. Good-night.' He limped away 
 a few steps and then he came back and took my hand, 
 and gave it one of those pressures that were so peculiar 
 to him, and he said, ' Oh, oh, oh, oh ! ' Haven't you 
 heard him say it ? ' Oh, oh, oh, oh ! brother, as long 
 as you live/ he said, ' preach a Christ that can save 
 these lost people.' And if there has been any tender- 
 ness in my preaching, if there has been any special 
 passion for lost men and women, I owe it in part to 
 the saint of God who lies here so still in our presence 
 to-day. 
 
 " The last time I saw him was a short time ago. I 
 was sitting alone in a room, when I heard that pecrliar 
 thump, thump, thump of his cane in the hallway ; the
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 207 
 
 door opened, and in he walked, the sweetest smile on 
 his face I have almost ever seen ; and he said, ' I 
 thought I'd just come and visit with you. I am a 
 little bit tired, and I thought I'd just like to come 
 and visit with you.' While in the city he told his 
 matchless story, made his last appeal to men; and 
 as I went to a midnight meeting in the theatre, he 
 threw his arm around my shoulder, the last time 
 for this world, and he said, ' Good-bye ; when we go 
 south together I'll give you three weeks of my time, 
 and we'll see what we can do in Texas to win the 
 drunkards for Christ. Good-bye.' And he went 
 away, to stay until I see him with you in the resur- 
 rection morning. 
 
 " Between those two experiences with him there 
 has stretched out the most beautiful life I have ever 
 known. 
 
 " Add one more picture and you have his beautiful 
 life complete. Mrs. Hadley tells me that while this 
 precious body was lying in the Mission last night 
 there came up a man who once before had claimed 
 to follow Christ, but had drifted away from Him, and 
 he threw his arms round about the casket, and bent 
 over with the hot tears raining down his cheeks, and 
 said, ' Samuel Hadley, when he was alive, gave me 
 one vision of Christ, and now that he is dead I want 
 to have another.' That was his life. Oh, you match- 
 less man of God, I never have known your like, never. 
 
 " I want to close with just a word by saying he was 
 a true friend. Did any of you ever have a better 
 friend? Jim Edwards, did you ever have a better 
 friend? No, and no other man ever did. 
 
 " He left me two precious treasures. When he was
 
 208 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 sending his greetings to his friends, as he did to many 
 of you, my brethren, he spoke my name with those 
 lips of his, and said, ' Just tell Chapman that I can 
 do him more good at the Throne than I could do him 
 here.' I rather imagine I shall have a better ministry 
 from to-day. I rather believe that I shall preach a 
 sweeter story from to-day. 
 
 " The other inheritance is this [holding aloft Mr. 
 Hadley's familiar cane]. He doesn't need it. As 
 Dr. Pierson says, ' The lame shall leap as an hart.' 
 He doesn't need it. 
 
 " He was a great example of love. He was a cul- 
 tured Christian gentleman. He had that rare talent 
 and ability of going down to lost men, poor, depraved 
 drunkards, and outcast women, making them feel that 
 he was one of them ; and yet he had the ability of 
 going into the homes of wealth in New York, and 
 he never crossed a threshold but the richest people 
 in the land didn't feel they had met their equal. He 
 was a true gentleman, a true gentleman. He was a 
 great man. 
 
 " We had at our Bible Conference, where he came 
 every year for ten blessed, happy years, some of the 
 greatest men that this country has ever known. We 
 had that matchless intellectual giant, Dr. Francis 
 Patten. I remember one evening, when Dr. Patten 
 had just lifted us up to the throne of grace, and we 
 had almost gone through the gates, Mr. Hadley came 
 up to him and said, ' Doctor, some of those big words 
 of yours just about flabbergasted me, they just about 
 did.' But the tears rolled down his cheeks as he said, 
 ' But you know I love Jesus better since I heard you 
 speak than I ever loved Him before.' Dr. Patten
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 209 
 
 looked back at him and said, ' Mr. Hadley, nobody 
 moves me like you, nobody.' The ministers all loved 
 him. 
 
 " Mr. Bowne was right when he said the world 
 seems lonesome without him. I don't know how in 
 the world we'll ever get on. New York seems to me 
 as if a great part of it had moved out. It must 
 seem so to you, my brethren ; really the best part of 
 it for me has gone. We have a sense of loneliness 
 to-day such as we have not known in years. Some 
 of us will never be the same again, never. Some of 
 our family circles will never be the same again. Mine 
 never will. One of my children has prayed for Mr. 
 Hadley since she first learned to talk, ' God bless Mr. 
 Hadley and the Water Street Mission.' 
 
 " It was always a great gala day in our home when 
 S. H. Hadley arrived ; from the smallest baby in the 
 household to myself we lined up to see him come 
 in ; and we all of us said, ' Now, so long as he's here 
 we'll not any of us work. We'll just sit around and 
 love him.' And we laughed and cried and all but 
 shouted from the moment he came in until he went out. 
 We have a broken family circle in our household, and 
 I suppose the most of you have. 
 
 " There must have been a great commotion in 
 heaven when he went in. Yesterday must have been 
 a high day in heaven. The first Sunday in Glory ! 
 Can you imagine it? 
 
 " I have a friend, the Rev. Henry Ostrom, D. D., 
 who tells the following story of the visit of William 
 Arthur to this country, and of his telling the students 
 in one of the seminaries about an old friend of his, 
 Robert Sutcliffe, who was very dangerously ill, and
 
 210 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 an old friend of the two of them, Dr. Mahan, went to 
 see him. He took the old man's hand, and he said, 
 ' Robert, did you know that Benson had gone home ? ' 
 The old saint said, ' Benson gone home ? ' ' Yes, and 
 did you know that so-and-so had gone ? ' giving the 
 name of a mutual friend. ' What, has he gone ? ' ' Yes, 
 and did you know that so-and-so had gone ? ' naming 
 still another. ' No, has he gone, too ? ' ' Yes, Robert, 
 everybody seems to have gone but you and me of the 
 old circle.' Robert Sutcliffe lay still for a moment; 
 then he opened his eyes and smiled, and said, ' I rather 
 think that some of those old friends up in glory have 
 met together and they have been looking around for 
 me, and they must have said, " Where's Robert Sut- 
 cliffe ? He must have lost his way." ' Then his eyes 
 were shut for a moment, but presently he opened them, 
 and the sweetest smile came across his features as he 
 said, ' I'll soon be there, and I can hear Benson and all 
 the rest of them shouting down the streets of Glory, 
 " Here comes Robert Sutcliffe ! He hasn't lost his 
 way ! " ' 
 
 " I think it was like that with our beloved friend. 
 I can well believe Jerry McAuley must have met him ; 
 I think his own dear brother surely greeted him ; I 
 believe the Old Colonel must have saluted him ; I 
 am sure ' Phil ' McGuire must have thrown his arms 
 around him ; I imagine that all the redeemed drunk- 
 ards in heaven must have filled the arches of the 
 Glory shouting, ' Here comes S. H. Hadley ! Here he 
 comes! He hasn't lost his way.' 
 
 " Farewell, clear friend, farewell. One of these 
 days we shall meet, all of us, in glory. And until that 
 day God give us the passion for souls that you pos-
 
 FUNERAL SERVICES AT CHURCH 
 
 sessed, and until that day God give us the Spirit of 
 Jesus with which you were filled. Farewell." 
 The quartet sang " The King's Business." 
 The Rev. Dr. Frank Mason North offered the clos- 
 ing prayer, and the last hymn sung was " Just As I 
 Am."
 
 XVIII 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 
 
 NUMEROUS services were held in memory of 
 the Superintendent of the Water Street Mis- 
 sion. Rich and poor alike seemed to delight 
 to do him honour. 
 
 No more notable service was held, however, than 
 that in the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, one 
 of the greatest churches not only in the Presbyterian 
 denomination, but in the United States. The church 
 is located at Fifth Avenue and Fifty-fifth Street in the 
 heart of the most aristocratic section of New York 
 City. It has been a church of notable gatherings, but 
 none more notable than this; and a church of great 
 pastors. 
 
 The Rev. John Hall, D. D., served this church for 
 years, and when he died great men seemed to vie with 
 each other to say great things about him, but nothing 
 better was said about the notable preacher than about 
 the humble servant of Jesus Christ, the Superintendent 
 of the Water Street Mission. 
 
 The Rev. George T. Purves, D. D., succeeded Dr. 
 Hall, and after a brief ministry passed to his reward, 
 but the work of so distinguished a preacher as Dr. 
 Purves was not more notable than that of S. H. 
 Hadley. 
 
 The Rev. J. Ross Stevenson, D. D., is the present 
 pastor, but Dr. Stevenson himself confessed that to 
 
 212
 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 213 
 
 have had S. H. Hadley in his church was one of the 
 greatest privileges in his ministry, and to have the 
 memorial service held in the Fifth Avenue Church 
 was an honour not to be lightly esteemed. 
 
 The following is the order of service printed and 
 distributed Sunday afternoon, February 25, 1906: 
 
 FIFTH AVENUE PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH. 
 
 FIFTH AVENUE AND FIFTY-FIFTH STREET 
 
 Minister, Rev. J. Ross Stevenson, D.D., 19 East 66th Street. 
 
 Telephone, 150 Plaza. 
 
 Assistant Minister, Rev. George H. Trull, 600 West U4th 
 Street. Telephone, 5444 Morningside. 
 
 ORDER OF AFTERNOON SERVICE. 
 
 Four o'clock. 
 In memoriam Rev. S. H. Hadley, late Supt. of the Water 
 
 Street McAuley Mission and of Wesley Rescue Hall. 
 Organ Prelude Allegretto from 7th Symphony. Beethoven. 
 Anthem " What are These " .... Stainer. 
 Hymn 948. 
 
 Introductory Remarks By Dr. Stevenson. 
 Address By Mr. Walter M. Smith, Chairman. 
 Scripture Lesson and Prayer By the Rev. Frank Mason 
 
 North, D.D. 
 Hymn Glory Song. 
 Addresses By Lieutenant-Governor M. Linn Bruce. 
 
 The Rev. J. Wesley Johnston, D.D. 
 
 The Rev. Donald Sage Mackay, D.D. 
 Singing Messrs. Fitzgerald and Brown. 
 Testimonies from Converts of the Mission. 
 Address By Mr. John Willis Baer. 
 Hymn 609. 
 
 The congregation will resume their seats for the Bene- 
 diction and for a moment of silent prayer. 
 Benediction. 
 Organ Postlude March from Saul . . . Handel,
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 It was one of the most miserable rainy days of the 
 winter, but that did not prevent some 2,000 people 
 from gathering in this edifice to pay honour to their 
 friend and helper. For two hours the late friend of 
 the outcast was eulogised, and it is very probable that 
 if the weather had been fair, there would not have 
 been standing room in the great church. It was rather 
 an odd audience. Millionaires and their handsomely 
 dressed wives sat alongside of the men of the street 
 and the women of the humblest walks in life. The 
 men from the Mission and also those from the Rescue 
 Home marched to the church in a body and occupied 
 specially reserved seats in the middle aisle near the 
 pulpit; and sprinkled throughout the entire audience 
 were plain people. But some way or other all class 
 distinction seemed to be forgotten in the common pur- 
 pose of doing honour to Mr. Hadley. Even the regu- 
 lar Presbyterian church hymnals were laid aside, and 
 instead, some of Mr. Hadley 's favourite gospel songs 
 were sung with great fervour. The quartet sang 
 "And I Shall See Him Face to Face" and "The 
 Glory Song," and the vast congregation joined in the 
 chorus. There was no note of desolation in the ren- 
 dering, but rather one of victory. 
 
 The Rev. Dr. J. Ross Stevenson, the pastor of the 
 Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, made the introduc- 
 tory remarks, and compared Mr. Hadley to St. Paul 
 the Apostle. " If Paul should come to New York, I am 
 afraid he would pass by many of our churches, but 
 his chief interest would be in a work like the Mc- 
 Auley Mission," he said. " Mr. Hadley has immor- 
 talised the Water Street Mission. How strong were 
 the rays of mercy and of hope that he sent forth from
 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 215 
 
 that lighthouse of God. His influence was not con- 
 fined to the Mission. It was known at home and 
 abroad. It has been a demonstration to the city that 
 love is the greatest power in the world. Mr. Hadley 
 was also greatly interested in summer religious con- 
 ferences and in evangelistic enterprises. The city of 
 New York owes him a debt it cannot pay. The work 
 he did was the work we ought to do. This church, 
 like many others, helped support his work. It was 
 our privilege to have him speak here. I want to say 
 that I count it one of the greatest privileges of my 
 life to have known him and to have entertained him 
 in my home. Mr. John S. Huyler, one of the trus- 
 tees, was to have been here. In the absence of Mr. 
 Huyler, I will place this meeting in charge of Mr. 
 Walter M. Smith, also a trustee." 
 
 After Mr. Smith was introduced, he said among 
 other things : " I regret with Doctor Stevenson 
 the absence of Mr. John S. Huyler, for many years 
 president of the McAuley Mission, who was ex- 
 pected to preside at this meeting; he is unavoidably 
 absent. It devolves upon me in behalf of the family 
 of Mr. Hadley, and of the trustees of the Mission, 
 to thank Doctor Stevenson for his kind words, and the 
 officers of this church for the privilege so courteously 
 extended, of holding here this memorial service to 
 one who for twenty years gave 'the best that was in 
 him,' yes, his life, to help the wretched and the 
 lost. 
 
 " Samuel H. Hadley endeared himself to every soul 
 with whom he came in contact. He was always wel- 
 come in the home of luxury ; the thief of the slums 
 met him as a friend ; they all knew him ; they all loved
 
 216 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 him and he loved them. If ever a man walked in the 
 footsteps of his Saviour, he was that man. 
 
 " We meet here to honour his memory, and in doing 
 this we honour ourselves." 
 
 The Rev. Dr. F. Mason North offered prayer. 
 
 " We thank Thee, O God, for giving this man the 
 willingness to go where Thou didst want him to go," 
 said Dr. North in his prayer. " We thank Thee for 
 this mediator between the kindness of God and the 
 misery of men. May the influence of his life be last- 
 ing in our city. We cannot tell where Thou hast 
 another to do the work he has done. Our hearts long 
 for that deeper life and simpler faith which was his." 
 
 Lieutenant-Governor Bruce spoke in part as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 " As a citizen of this great city and of this State, 
 I am glad of this opportunity to pay a tribue of respect 
 to Samuel Hopkins Hadley. I know that I have but 
 an inadequate appreciation of his wonderful work 
 and his heroic service. Only the shipwrecked mariner, 
 rescued after all hope has fled, fully appreciates the 
 self-sacrifice and daring of the life-saver, who, making 
 his way through surf and storm, brings hope and life. 
 And it is only the outcasts around whom this great 
 man placed his strong arms, lifting them out of the 
 gutters and setting their feet upon the rock, that 
 feel and know of his mighty works of faith and his 
 labours of love. 
 
 " Samuel II . Hadley needs no memorial, no monu- 
 ment. Everywhere throughout this broad land there 
 are thousands of men whose honourable lives testify 
 to his greatness and his goodness. They will hold his 
 mgmory. as the dearest treasure of earth and will hand
 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 217 
 
 it down from generation to generation long after many 
 so-called great men of his time are forgotten. 
 
 " But I wish as a citizen to express the debt of 
 gratitude which I feel the city and the State owe 
 Mr. Hadley for his great service in reclaiming from 
 careers of vice and crime thousands of men and women 
 residents of this city, and restoring them to law-abid- 
 ing, useful citizenship. For twenty-two long years, 
 amid the heat of summer and the cold of winter, he 
 stood at his post in the old Jerry McAuley Mission, 
 under the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge, rescuing 
 the perishing, caring for the dying, speaking words of 
 hope to the fallen, feeding the hungry, clothing the 
 naked and pleading with the wanderers to return to 
 the Father's house, to begin a life of honour and of 
 self-respect. No matter how often a weak one fell, 
 he never chided, never a word of reproach, never 
 condemned ; his pleadings were always words of love, 
 of encouragement and of hope. It is estimated that 
 more than 75,000 men came under Mr. Hadley 's per- 
 sonal ministry, thousands of whom are to-day useful 
 members of society. 
 
 " The keynote of his life was, ' Not to be ministered 
 unto, but to minister.' " 
 
 The Rev. J. Wesley Johnston, D. D., Mr. Hadley's 
 pastor, spoke as follows : 
 
 " He was more my pastor than I his pastor. It 
 is only those who have known what it is to have had 
 such a man in the congregation who can sympathise 
 with us," he continued. " Many philanthropists have 
 had severe things to say about the attitude of the 
 church to the poor. I sometimes feel that these re- 
 formers are responsible for much of the so-called
 
 218 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 class distinction. But this was not so with Brother 
 Hadley. He brought all of his manhood to the church 
 and took much from the church in return. These mis- 
 sions, to him, were simply doorways to the church. 
 No man in the last fifty years, not even the great 
 evangelist Moody, has done more to bring the church 
 and the common people together than S. H. Hadley. 
 I declare to you that there is not a church in the 
 United States that is not indebted to this man for what 
 he did in bridging the gap. Hadley never considered 
 any man's reclamation complete until the convert 
 had identified himself with some church. There was 
 nothing superficial about his conversions. Because a 
 man came to the mourner's bench and said he wanted 
 to begin over again Hadley did not consider that all 
 sufficient. With Brother Hadley there was a living 
 figure, a tremendous personality. And he was not 
 content until his converts had been brought face to 
 face with Christ as a living Saviour. And he never 
 recommended a single convert for membership in the 
 church of which I am pastor until he had some guar- 
 antee that the man had had such an experience. He 
 laboured to make Christ a real man to every man, 
 and a real Saviour to every sinner. He taught them 
 that it was not a reformation, not a vow or a promise, 
 but that it was only through trust in Christ that they 
 could be reclaimed. God, Heaven, Christ, Redemp- 
 tion these to him were fibres that entered into his 
 very being. But I affirm he has rendered a service 
 to the church, a service we can never pay. He has 
 rewritten the Acts of the Apostles, and he has 
 written in flesh and blood. He has transferred that 
 which happened two millenniums ago in another land
 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 219 
 
 down to to-day over in Water Street, New York. And 
 there he has illustrated again and again the marvel- 
 lous display of God's power, which was shown in the 
 early church. When Saul stood up before Agrippa 
 and told the story of his conversion, he did not tell it 
 with any more reality than Hadley told of his mar- 
 vellous regeneration. The question is now, Is the 
 work to stop because he has gone? There are mul- 
 titudes more, not in the valley of decision, but in 
 the valley of poverty and sin and despair, who are 
 victims of habit and the slaves of appetite. Who will 
 save them? God grant that a man may be raised up." 
 The next speaker was the Rev. Dr. Donald Sage 
 Mackay, who said in part : " There were three great 
 realities in Mr. Hadley 's life the reality of sin, the 
 reality of conversion, and the reality of service. The 
 man lived a life of apostolic devotion such as is rarely 
 known. In these days when there are so many arti- 
 ficial people, and when so many are flitting their lives 
 away on non-essentials, it is comforting to think of 
 a man spending his time and energy as Hadley did. 
 To him God was a great reality. He lived in the 
 presence of God. It was this that gave him power. 
 He knows of his great results, but we don't know of 
 the hard nights, the bitter experiences, and of the 
 wrestling with God in prayer. This man fought his 
 way day by day. Hadley was not a man of senti- 
 ment, but he was a man of profound emotion. He 
 could read character. He could find out whether a 
 man was in earnest. His own conversion was a great 
 reality. He never told it as a matter of history, but 
 always with new life. Scientists are discussing the 
 subject of conversion. Well, friends, hard names
 
 220 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 won't do any harm. But with Hadley, conversion was 
 the incoming of the Holy Spirit. With him conver- 
 sion meant service, and it should be so with every- 
 one. No conversion was allowed to lax into for- 
 getfulness. That life has wrought itself into the 
 spiritual history of New York, America, the world." 
 
 A portion of the exercises was the reading of a 
 telegram from Rev. Dr. J. Wilbur Chapman, a close 
 friend and warm admirer of the mission worker, and 
 who was one of the speakers at his funeral. 
 
 " I want to pay a tribute to one of the princes of 
 men, and to pledge myself in some way to help carry 
 on his work," wrote Dr. Chapman. The despatch 
 was sent from Florida, where Dr. Chapman was at- 
 tending the Florida Winter Bible Conference. An- 
 other despatch was read from Charles M. Alexander, 
 the great evangelistic singer, who said he regretted not 
 being able to attend the memorial service. From 
 Dr. Reuben A. Torrey, the evangelist, came the fol- 
 lowing letter, which eulogised Mr. Hadley. Both of 
 the latter messages were sent from Philadelphia, 
 where Dr. Torrey and Mr. Alexander are holding a 
 mission. 
 
 The following is Dr. Torrey's letter: 
 
 " 505 So. 42ND STREET, PHILADELPHIA, PA., 
 
 "February 21, 1906. 
 
 " I have known Brother Hadley for many years, and 
 I have loved him as I have loved few men. He has 
 taught me to love others as I did not love them before. 
 One of the greatest blessings of my life came through 
 a talk that Brother Hadley once gave in my own 
 church on Love. I think I have loved the fallen since
 
 that, and have learned to be patient with all men as 
 I never was before. Not only his words, but his life, 
 was a benediction to me. I have had the deepest 
 interest in his work in New York for years. I have 
 rarely visited New York but what I have taken oc- 
 casion to run over to Water Street Mission at least 
 once. While one is not impressed with the largeness 
 of the meeting at Water Street Mission, the thing that 
 has impressed me has been the solidity of the work. 
 I know many men, personally, who are leading 
 earnest Christian lives to-day, who were once the 
 very off-scouring of the world. I have many a friend 
 who found Christ at the Water Street Mission. We 
 have had a number at the Bible Institute who have 
 come there to study after having been converted at 
 the Mission, and they were men that we loved and 
 honoured. 
 
 " I got a great blessing to my own soul from the 
 book ' Down in Water Street,' and it has been a joy 
 to recommend it to others, who have also been blessed 
 and encouraged through reading it. I think that the 
 Water Street Mission under our Brother Hadley has 
 been one of the greatest of present-day illustrations 
 that 'the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation 
 to everyone that believeth.' 
 
 "R. A. TORREY." 
 
 But the most pronounced feature of the entire pro- 
 gramme was the testimonies given by some of the con- 
 verts of the Water Street Mission and of the home. 
 
 " Samuel Hopkins Hadley led me to Jesus. I loved 
 him, and I will follow him to eternity," said a manly- 
 looking fellow. " I was a drunkard. I had Christian
 
 222 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 parents. When I was a boy I went to Sunday School 
 and church. I took to drinking whiskey. This got 
 me to gambling. Gambling led me to steal. Eight 
 years, one month, and two days ago I wandered into 
 the Water Street Mission. I had slept off two drunks 
 that day, and I went to sleep in the Mission, and 
 Brother Hadley woke me up. And he helped me find 
 Jesus that night." 
 
 The assistant superintendent of the Mission said 
 that seventeen years and five months ago he was 
 converted under Mr. Hadley. 
 
 " Nineteen years, nine months, and twenty-three 
 days ago," said a great, tall man, " I staggered into the 
 door of that Mission, and I heard S. H. Hadley tell 
 what Jesus had done for him. I have learned this 
 lesson, that no matter how far down a man is, God 
 can pick him up." 
 
 There were several others who spoke along the same 
 line. All of these men showed by their appearance 
 that their conversion had been genuine. Just before 
 the closing hymn, which was " Just As I Am With- 
 out One Plea," all those present who were converted 
 under Mr. Hadley were asked to rise. Fully 400 men 
 immediately stood up, and for several moments there 
 was a sacred stillness. They responded like soldiers 
 to a call, and they were proud to testify their leader. 
 
 Dr. John Willis Baer, formerly Secretary of the 
 Board of Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church, 
 and now President of Occidental College, was the last 
 speaker. " Have you ever thought how Hadley 
 hated ? " he asked. " He hated sin, and he hated 
 saloons. If the church of to-day hated the saloon the 
 way Hadley did, it would be swept out of existence.
 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 
 
 And have you ever thought how Hadley loved? He 
 loved men back to Christ. O God, that we could love 
 the way Hadley did. His mantle is big enough to 
 fall on all of us. God will possibly never make an- 
 other Hadley. I believe that to-day Hadley sees 
 you just as you are, not as you appear to be. Oh, 
 how ashamed to-day I am that I did not do more for 
 him. There is a great responsibility resting on every 
 one of us. God has blessed us with certain gifts, 
 and we should consecrate them to His service, as 
 Hadley did. Are we going out of that door any better 
 than we came in? This is our responsibility." 
 
 The newspapers of the city of New York, without 
 exception, gave an unusual amount of space to the 
 telling of the story of his life. The New York World, 
 under date of February 26, with striking headlines 
 referred to the memorial service as follows: 
 
 "RICH, POOR, GOOD, BAD WEPT FOR 
 HADLEY. 
 
 " Wealthy Congregation and ' Sinners' Club ' Cry 
 Together at Service for ' Angel.' Memorial 
 Services for the late Samuel Hopkins Hadley, 
 Who Died Feb. 9, After Serving Nineteen 
 Years as the Head of the Old Jerry McAuley 
 Mission in Water Street, Were Held at the 
 Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church Yesterday 
 Afternoon. 
 
 " No greater tribute to the memory of this friend of 
 sinners could be found than was presented by the au- 
 dience gathered in the fashionable church to listen to 
 the eulogies of the dead man. In the galleries were the
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 silk-clothed congregation of the church, for the most 
 part wealthy persons who knew little of the life of the 
 mission worker. In the body of the great church was 
 gathered a strange assembly of men, women, and 
 children. All of them cried during the service. All 
 of them wore little badges to tell the curious that 
 they were members of the ' Sinners' Club.' The 
 ' Sinners' Club ' had been given the place of honour 
 in the rich church. 
 
 " As many of the ' club ' as could crowd into the 
 seats were there. Many stood in the entry. Some 
 were reformed. Many of them were not. Many 
 bore hard faces left by lives of vice and sorrow. 
 They all knew Samuel Hopkins Hadley personally, 
 and they knew what he had done for their kind. 
 Whether or not they had lived better themselves 
 through his teachings, they were there to testify to 
 the memory of the man who had saved so many of 
 their friends. Reformed thieves, drunkards, social 
 outcasts sat together weeping. 
 
 " Lieutenant-Governor M. Linn Bruce was one of 
 the speakers. He had known the mission-worker in 
 life, and he had been by his side in death. 
 
 " ' " What will become of my poor men ? " were the 
 last words of the good man,' said Mr. Bruce. At 
 that the ground floor cried afresh, and when the 
 speaker sat down several shabby-looking men and 
 women arose to pay their tributes. Their tributes 
 were such as were heard in the Water Street Mission 
 every night. 
 
 '' The fashionable congregation for the most part had 
 never heard these simple, impassioned ' testimonials ' 
 before, and it was their turn to cry. The Rev. Dr. J.
 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 225 
 
 Wesley Johnston and the Rev. Dr. Donald Sage Mac- 
 kay spoke of the life of the mission worker. Samuel 
 Hopkins Hadley was rescued from a life of drunken- 
 ness himself in the early 8o's, and the speakers dwelt 
 long on his redemption and the thousands he had re- 
 deemed. They said that 5,000 persons had been made 
 to lead better lives through the work of this mission 
 ' angel.' 
 
 " At the close of the meeting the fashionables from 
 the galleries mingled with the shabby people below, 
 and it was an hour after the services ended that the 
 last little group gathered around members of the 
 ' Sinners' Club ' and went away." 
 
 The New York preachers' meeting was the fourth 
 religious body to observe a memorial to Samuel Hop- 
 kins Hadley. "Old Water Street," "Old John 
 Street," and the venerable Fifth Avenue Presbyterian 
 Church had held solemn services of holy triumph over 
 the memory of their fallen hero, brother and saint. 
 So it was in no sense strange that the gathering of 
 preachers was swelled by the best of the throng who 
 had assembled also at these other shrines. 
 
 The memory of S. H. Hadley levels the rich and 
 poor, the high and the low, the fortunate and the less 
 fortunate. And on that sad and tender occasion all 
 voices joined in paying affectionate tribute to " one 
 of the greatest sons of our Christian century." 
 
 The services, which were conducted by the officers of 
 the New York City Church Extension and Mission- 
 ary Society, were characterised by outbursts of ec- 
 static song, words of mellow sweetness, and tears of 
 godly joy mingled with tears of sorrow that such a 
 conquerer had gone to his native heaven. And after
 
 226 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 a series of well-chosen eulogies had been spoken, the 
 meeting passed a series of memorial resolutions which 
 pledged all to fill up the gap and make up the hedge 
 where Brother Hadley had fallen. 
 
 " A sad duty devolves upon us at this time in re- 
 cording the death of one of our Board of Managers, 
 the Rev. S. H. Hadley, for many years the superin- 
 tendent of the far-famed Jerry McAuley Mission in 
 Water Street, and the superintendent of the Rescue 
 Mission on the Bowery. 
 
 " Few men in Methodism were more widely known 
 than Brother Hadley, and few have left behind them 
 a more enviable record as a successful evangelist and 
 a winner of souls for Christ. 
 
 " Having experienced when in the depths of sin a 
 conversion as definite as that of Saul of Tarsus, he 
 was able to preach with a singular power the blessed 
 Gospel of the grace of God, and point lost men and 
 women to One who could save to the uttermost. For 
 more than twenty years it was his supreme joy to tell 
 the story of redeeming love, and this he did with 
 such tenderness, such pathos, such simple unaffected 
 eloquence, and with such manifest approval of God, 
 that thousands were translated from the power of 
 darkness into the kingdom of God's dear Son. 
 
 " To the poor, the outcast, the sinful, the aban- 
 doned, he was as a chosen apostle, labouring among 
 them with a love that was divine, a tenderness that 
 was Christlike, a sympathy that was inexhaustible, 
 and a patience only possible to such a nature as his. 
 
 " He was a man of rare quality, a combination of 
 exquisite degree, having the power to win earnest 
 attention from both high and low, rich and poor,
 
 NOTABLE MEMORIAL SERVICES 227 
 
 and never failing everywhere to impress himself as 
 a disciple of the Lord Jesus. We earnestly pray 
 that the great work to which he so faithfully de- 
 voted his ministry may go on with unabated energy 
 and success. 
 
 " To Mrs. Hadley, who has been so devoted to the 
 same glorious work as her now sainted husband, and 
 to his associates and helpers in the Rescue Missions, 
 we extend our sincere sympathies, and pray that God's 
 richest blessings may rest upon their labours."
 
 XIX 
 HIS MONUMENT 
 
 SH. HADLEY has left many an enduring monu- 
 ment of his work. He was the immediate suc- 
 cessor of Jerry McAuley, and built well upon 
 the foundation laid by that most distinguished of all 
 rescue mission workers in his day. He was also in 
 a sense the founder of the Wesley Rescue Hall, the 
 name of which has since been changed to the Hadley 
 Hall. He made the following address when the 
 founding of this second mission was under con- 
 sideration : 
 
 " I have the honour, the pleasure, to be in the old 
 Jerry McAuley Mission. We seek men that are lost 
 because they are lost ; for no other reason but because 
 nobody loves them. I was once speaking in the peni- 
 tentiary, and I asked the men to come and see me 
 when their time was up, and, oh, how many of them 
 came. I have been ordained a Methodist preacher. 
 They had to jump over the discipline pretty strongly 
 to accomplish it, but they did it. I preached in the 
 prison once, and I invited eight hundred men to come 
 to see me. I have said : ' If you are sober men, I'm 
 glad to see you, and if you are drunk, I'm glad to see 
 you, too. Come without spending your money.' I 
 say to them : ' There's a man who wants to see you 
 down in Water Street.' I never give that invitation 
 but it has cost me a thousand dollars. There's hardly 
 a meeting given in our Mission but that some men 
 
 228
 
 HIS MONUMENT 229 
 
 from there who've been invited have come to our 
 place and been saved, and are standing up testifying 
 to the salvation of God. And they received that in- 
 vitation in the penitentiary. 
 
 " Now the Methodist Church has not a Rescue Mis- 
 sion in its whole boundaries. The only two mission 
 reports given here to-day were in Allegheny and 
 Pittsburgh. Some of you have talked about raising 
 debts. When you were boys, your dear old fathers 
 were preachers, and they thought of only one thing 
 to get men on their knees before God and shout- 
 ing happy, and then there was not much trouble about 
 raising money or raising the devil, or anything else. 
 Now we have forgotten that. In our city, New York, 
 we ought to have on the Bowery on the great thor- 
 oughfare to hell we ought to have a Rescue Mission 
 not a woodyard, or a mothers' meeting, or a kinder- 
 garten, but a Rescue Mission, a great, beautiful place 
 to hold four or five hundred, a cheery place lighted 
 up, with a banner outside telling what is inside, that 
 you could see a mile, and inside a lot of saved men 
 who can sing and pray and terrify the devil. We 
 ought to get in the great public, the great unreached 
 masses. My very soul aches for it the poor, help- 
 less, dying, drunken men ! Nobody cared for me. I 
 didn't know a Christian in New York, not one. And 
 I had been here a long time. That's what we ought 
 to do. Every Methodist minister would be electrified 
 by it. Some would perhaps go forward for prayers. 
 They would get really converted. 
 
 " The Methodist Church ought to do this work. I 
 was raised in a log Methodist church. My father 
 built it on our farm. Jacob Young preached in it once.
 
 230 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 There was one hymn-book and one Bible in the house. 
 Our benches were of the thickness of rails. Some- 
 times the rails would warp and one leg stick up in the 
 air, but they were benches, ' mourners' benches.' I 
 have seen wonders of God's saving grace. I have 
 seen men fall and lie as posts for hours, and not one 
 but came to and was a faithful Christian to his death. 
 
 " New York City ought to have a rescue mission. 
 The Presbyterians have Rescue Missions ; the Baptists 
 have Rescue Missions ; the Episcopalians have, but we 
 haven't. In the lower part of our city the percentage 
 of Christians is hardly worthy of our mention. It is 
 greater in Calcutta and Bombay, in portions of China, 
 than in New York City below Fourteenth Street. We 
 can't get rid of it until the judgment day, and we say 
 we are not able. We could do much more than we 
 do. We start a church in the suburbs and the mem- 
 bers pack their traps and leave the lower part of the 
 city to the devil." 
 
 Wesley Hall, now known as Hadley Hall, was 
 opened for work and worship on Saturday evening, 
 March 12, 1904. 
 
 Fully 450 people found their way to this unaccus- 
 tomed place on Saturday night. Over the door in 
 large letters of light they saw " Wesley Rescue Hall." 
 Passing through the long hallway, brilliantly lighted 
 with electricity, they came to the ample assembly 
 room a great, rough loft transformed by tool and 
 brush and light into one of the brightest and most 
 attractive mission halls in our city. 
 
 The services were simple, informal, reverent. While 
 the people gathered some hymns were heartily sung. 
 The corresponding secretary of the society called upon
 
 HIS MONUMENT 231 
 
 Dr. E. S. Osborn, Mr. J. F. Cryer, and Dr. G. E. 
 Strobridge to offer prayer. He then, after a short 
 statement, introduced Dr. J. W. Johnston, of John 
 Street Church, and Dr. C. S. Wing, presiding elder of 
 the district in which the mission is located, to speak 
 for the Committee. Then Dr. Louis Klopsch, also a 
 member of the board and president of the Bowery 
 Mission, most felicitously welcomed the new work. 
 Bishop Andrews followed with earnest and appro- 
 priate words, and, inviting the people to stand and 
 join in a prayer of consecration, solemnly dedicated 
 this new hall to the unique and blessed work for which 
 it has been prepared. 
 
 But the most enduring monument left by Mr. Had- 
 ley will be the lives of those whom he had the privi- 
 lege of leading to Jesus Christ. It is impossible to 
 mention all the names which should be recorded in 
 this book in connection with such a chapter. There 
 is Benjamin Watson, who was a drunken tramp and 
 converted over seventeen years ago ; Joseph G. Hester, 
 an Englishman, who was found by Mr. Hadley as he 
 was almost freezing to death and taken into the Mis- 
 sion and saved. There is C. C. Fowler,, who occupied 
 a position of trust in one of the great New York 
 houses and was slain by the power of strong drink, 
 only to be rescued by the grace of God ; Harry E. 
 Prentice, also an Englishman, brought to the Mission 
 by a companion and started the first night for Christ, 
 and for five years Mr. Hadley's assistant; Arthur H. 
 Rice, who for fifteen years has been kept by the power 
 of God, after he had travelled around the world for 
 assistance and failed to find it ; Peter E. Yotmgblood, 
 whose parents were foreign missionaries, stationed at
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 Borneo, sent to this country to be educated, graduated 
 at Rutgers, but slain by his appetite, and afterwards 
 rescued by the power of God; Frank F. Fitzgerald, 
 one of the sweetest singers in the country, who was an 
 opera singer and member of a famous quartet, but 
 finally was reduced by sin to singing in the gin mills 
 of New York, he, too, was saved. He with others 
 sang at Mr. Hadley's funeral, and while in Canton, 
 Ohio, about one year ago was asked to sing for the 
 wife of the martyred President, McKinley. W. L. 
 Anderson, who says that words cannot describe his 
 past sinful life, was converted in 1898, and writes: 
 " Now I have a home of my own, a dear wife and 
 baby, for all of which I thank God." E. C. Mercer, 
 also saved by the grace of God, and now associated 
 with Mr. Wyburn in the Water Street Mission. All 
 these and hundreds of others should be mentioned at 
 length, but material concerning them has not been sent 
 me, and so I can only say, that in almost every city 
 in the land, and possibly in almost every city in the 
 world, there is to be seen to-day some fruit of the 
 work of this distinguished servant of Jesus Christ. 
 
 HIS FIRST CONVERT 
 
 Mr. Hadley's first convert was James C. Edwards. 
 The following is his testimony : 
 
 "1621 6/th St., BROOKLYN. 
 " Rev J. WILBUR CHAPMAN, 
 " Winona Lake, Ind. 
 " MY DEAR SIR AND BROTHER: 
 
 " Some few weeks ago you sent me a letter in re- 
 gard to our late brother, S. H. Hadley. I may state
 
 HIS MONUMENT 
 
 that the first time I saw him was about twenty-two 
 years ago, but I never became acquainted with him 
 until the night of the 3Oth of May, 1886, and since 
 that time I have been very close to him until the day 
 he went home to glory. 
 
 " You ask me to say something about him. Well, 
 all I can say is that I as well as thousands of others 
 have missed not only a friend, but a brother, for if 
 there ever was a Christian man it was S. H. Hadley. 
 He was a man the image of our Saviour. When I 
 had troubles or trials I would go to him at 316 Water 
 Street and talk and tell him about it. We would pray, 
 and the warm shake of his hand, and ' God bless you, 
 Jim/ I will never forget. Of course you know how 
 much I loved him. 
 
 " I would have answered your letter sooner, but I 
 waited until I celebrated the twentieth anniversary of 
 a Christian life. Now, Brother Chapman, in regard 
 to my conversion, you can get it in the book of S. 
 H. Hadley, ' Down in Water Street.' 
 
 " With prayers, I remain, 
 
 " Yours in His Name, 
 
 " JAMES C. EDWARDS. 
 " ' Scottie the Bum/ 1886. 
 " J. C. EDWARDS, 1906." 
 
 TOM FARMER'S TESTIMONY 
 
 " Two years ago to-night I wandered into this 
 Mission, and knelt down at this front bench and cried 
 to God to be merciful to me, a poor sinner, and I 
 know my prayer was heard and answered, and that 
 God sealed me for His own that night.
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " I was born and raised in this city. My father 
 owned and ran a saloon on Washington Street for 
 thirty-five years. I began to steal before I was ten 
 years old. I may not tell this story in detail again, 
 but I want to tell it to-night, so that you may see 
 what God has brought me out of. It is not a pleasant 
 story for me to relate, but I want to do it in order 
 to show you how, if a man will trust Jesus, He will 
 bring him out of darkness into light. 
 
 " I started first to tap tills in this city. From that I 
 used to snatch pocketbooks from people in the vicinity 
 of the Desbrosses Street Ferry. My own people knew 
 what I was, and it cost them hundreds of dollars to 
 keep me out of trouble. When my father died he left 
 me several thousand dollars. After getting the money 
 I started for the West. I went from here to Phila- 
 delphia. In the State of Pennsylvania I started out 
 on a criminal career that cost me many years in 
 prison. I robbed a post office in that State, was ar- 
 rested, but was acquitted, but it cost me $800 to 
 get out of that scrape. I then went to California, and 
 was not there long before I was arrested on a charge 
 of highway robbery, and was convicted and sentenced 
 to San Quentin Prison. After serving my sentence 
 there, I had to leave the State at once, as there were 
 enough charges against me to send me up for 
 life. I then went to the State of Oregon, and con- 
 tinued in the highway business, but had to get out 
 of that State pretty quick. Next I drifted into Mon- 
 tana. I was arrested in that State for burglary, and 
 got five years in Deer Lodge Penitentiary. Upon my 
 release from that prison I went to the State of Wash- 
 ington and in the city of Tacoma was arrested on
 
 HIS MONUMENT 235 
 
 several charges of burglary and highway robbery, but 
 escaped from jail and turned all hands loose with me. 
 I then went back to Seattle and was arrested again on 
 two charges of highway robbery, but managed to get 
 away. I went back to try and get my partners away 
 from the officers, but was caught. While in jail await- 
 ing trial, we nearly managed to escape again by tun- 
 nelling our way out, and would have succeeded but 
 for a United States prisoner, who squealed on us, 
 and I was sent to Walla Walla Prison for seven 
 years. 
 
 " While in Walla Walla I plotted to escape. I gave 
 a man money to bring me in a couple of guns. While 
 in this prison they made us work in a brick yard, and 
 while we had it all arranged to grab the warden and 
 throw him on the engine that came in the yard, and in 
 that way escape, as one of my pals said he knew how 
 to run the engine ; when we got on the engine, however, 
 instead of running out of the yard, he ran the engine 
 further into the prison yard, and both my pals were 
 shot dead by my side. They caught me and gave me 
 eighteen months in solitary confinement, and for the 
 first twenty days they hardly gave me any water to 
 drink, or any bread to eat. After being released from 
 this prison I was nearly dead, and they took me down 
 to the train, and sent me out of the State into Oregon, 
 but I came back to the State of Washington in a few 
 weeks. It was while in this State that my partners 
 and myself planned to hold up a train. I stationed 
 my partners at the entrance to the cars, while I went 
 through and took all the money and valuables ; while 
 I was in the car, however, my partners got cold feet, 
 and deserted me, and matters got so hot for me
 
 236 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 that I had to drop the bag and run. Bullets were fly- 
 ing all around me, but I managed to escape without 
 injury. 
 
 " A short while afterward my partners blew open 
 a safe in a little town just outside of Spokane Falls, 
 and two weeks later myself and my pals were arrested, 
 and the goods found on me; my pals turned State's 
 evidence and got two years in prison. I stood trial 
 and beat the case and was acquitted. 
 
 " I next went to Butte City, Montana, and after com- 
 mitting innumerable crimes in that State, I went back 
 again to the State of Washington, and was arrested 
 about eight miles from Spokane Falls for burglary. 
 I was tried, convicted and sentenced once more to 
 two years' imprisonment. 
 
 " After the expiration of this sentence I came back 
 to New York City, and for many years continued 
 robbing and stealing over on the West Side. I went 
 into the office of a business man; nobody was there 
 except himself, and I robbed him of all the money he 
 had something like two thousand dollars. Often, 
 since I gave my heart to God, I have seen that man's 
 face, and I can see the awful look on it as I took 
 the money. 
 
 " Shortly after this I met an old thief who knew 
 me and knew of my career, and I told him I was sick 
 and tired of the old life of crime, and he told me about 
 the McAuley Mission, and advised me to come down 
 and see Mr. Hadley. I didn't come until about five 
 days after he told me, but at last I wandered in one 
 evening and asked for Mr. Hadley. The janitor went 
 up and told Mr. Hadley that there was a man down- 
 stairs that wanted to speak to him; it was just before
 
 x 
 S 
 
 C!
 
 HIS MONUMENT 237 
 
 the evening meeting, and soon Mr. Hadley came down 
 and spoke to me. He asked me how I felt, and I 
 told him, and he spoke encouragingly to me, and asked 
 me if I intended to take Jesus as my Saviour that 
 night, and I said that I would if I died in the streets 
 that night. Jesus came into my life that night, and 
 the past two years have been full of happiness and 
 sunshine, and I intend to continue in God's work to 
 the end. 
 
 " I feel grateful for all the love and mercy that 
 have been shown me. Brother Hadley took me here 
 as janitor ; I had no idea that he was going to offer me 
 this position until I received a letter from him asking 
 me if I would accept it. 
 
 " I was down South at the time with Mrs. Hadley, 
 and she told me to take it. After that I was made a 
 leader here on Wednesday nights. I asked Brother 
 Hadley one day how I was doing on the nights, and he 
 said : ' You're all right, Tom.' I have had no educa- 
 tion but my trust, and day by day He leads me 
 along. 
 
 " If there is a sinner in the house who has ever 
 been tempted along lines similar to what I have 
 been, I pray to God that He will make a change to- 
 night. I want to thank all the friends of this Mission, 
 and all the converts who have helped me along. I 
 do not bear animosity against a single person in the 
 world ; I pray every night for all the converts of this 
 Mission, and I want you to pray for me, and I want 
 to promise you that I will be kinder and do everything 
 that lies in my power in the future to help the con- 
 verts in any way I can. 
 
 " I want to thank you sincerely for your kind pres-
 
 238 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 ent to me. I also hope you will continue to help me 
 out on Wednesdays. If I have ever spoken a harsh 
 word to anyone, it is not because of any ill feeling I 
 have towards him, for I do not bear a grudge against 
 a single person, either in this Mission or any place 
 on the earth. I want to lead a good Christian life and 
 do all that I can to win souls for the Master. 
 
 " I never knew what a Christian life meant until 
 two years ago. I had spent all my life in crime, 
 scheming how to rob people out of their money, but 
 I want to say now, that so long as I have breath, I 
 will cling to Jesus." 
 
 CHARLES S. YATES 
 
 " I was brought up in a good Christian home, but 
 unknown to my parents I learned to drink when a 
 mere boy. The habit grew and in early manhood I 
 was a slave to the accursed appetite. For years I tried 
 to conquer it, but could not. At last, having walked 
 the streets night after night from Monday until Sat- 
 urday, homeless, friendless, despairing, I stood on the 
 corner of Chatham Square, New York. 
 
 " Having heard that McAuley Water Street Mis- 
 sion gave lodging tickets to homeless men, I sought 
 out the place for that object alone. Thank God for 
 the reputation of this Mission; for here I heard the 
 Gospel of Christ proclaimed as I had never heard it 
 before. That night God answered my prayer for par- 
 don and I was born again. From that hour no good 
 thing has lie withheld. No longer homeless, I have 
 a home where Jesus reigns supreme, a good Christian 
 wife, a dear little boy, and for nearly three years I 
 have had the privilege of spreading the Gospel among
 
 HIS MONUMENT 239 
 
 seafaring men. Thank God the only power that can 
 save the drunkard is free to all." 
 
 LOUIS W. BROWN 
 
 " In the winter of 1887 I was in Philadelphia trying 
 to recover from a drunken debauch, and wandered into 
 a church where B. Fay Mills was holding a series of 
 evangelistic meetings. I was attracted by the singing. 
 I took a seat in the rear of the church and listened 
 to Mr. Mills, but was not particularly interested until 
 a lame gentleman arose and sang a song, entitled, 
 ' Waiting at the Pool.' After the song he gave a 
 testimony which strangely affected me, on account of 
 its similarity to my own experience ; it was a testi- 
 mony which I have heard thousands of times since, 
 and was delivered by S. H. Hadley. It was the first 
 time I had ever heard anybody admit publicly that he 
 had been a drunkard and a crook, and as I listened to 
 his description of how Jesus came to him in a saloon, 
 detailing in his inimitable way his awful conviction 
 of sin, his experience in the station house to which 
 he went to have himself locked up, and his subsequent 
 conversion in the Jerry McAuley Cremorne Mission, 
 I became deeply convicted of my own sins, and at the 
 close of the meeting when Mr. Mills invited those 
 who were interested in their soul's welfare to remain 
 to an ' after-meeting,' I remained, and when the op- 
 portunity was given I arose to my feet and stated how 
 I had been affected by the lame gentleman's testi- 
 mony. When I had finished Mr. Hadley arose and 
 made his way to where I was sitting; he put his arm 
 around me and asked me to wait for him after the 
 service, which I did, and he took me to his hotel. The
 
 240 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 next morning he gave me some money and invited 
 me to attend the Mills meetings for a few days, and 
 then come to his Mission at 316 Water Street, New 
 York City, where I was converted about two weeks 
 after my first meeting with Mr. Hadley. I had been 
 an opera singer for several years previous to my con- 
 version, having sung leading baritone parts with dif- 
 ferent companies in every large city in the United 
 States. I began to drink in moderation and drank and 
 attended to business for years, but alcohol gradually 
 got the better of me ; I became unreliable and at last 
 my system became so impregnated with alcohol that 
 I was not normal except under its influence. My wife 
 died of a broken heart, and I sank lower and lower; 
 became estranged from my family, and everything 
 else that was worth having in this world. I signed 
 pledges, made resolutions, but it was all to no avail 
 until I met Mr. Hadley. Since then at different times 
 I have returned to my old profession, against Mr. 
 Hadley 's advice, and invariably have fallen ; he had 
 repeatedly told me that I would never find a place to 
 rest my feet in the Christian life until I gave up my 
 old profession, and made an unconditional surrender 
 to God of my life and service. He always received 
 me back with open arms, and always believed in me, 
 and said that the Lord had laid me upon his heart, 
 and that he would never give me up. I thank God 
 that he lived to see me rooted and grounded in Jesus. 
 I have been very intimately connected with Mr. Had- 
 ley off and on ever since I first met him ; have sung 
 for him on his evangelistic trips, and have lived with 
 him in his own home. He was the kindest man I 
 ever knew ; he was possessed of that love that we read
 
 HIS MONUMENT 
 
 of in the First Corinthians, thirteenth chapter, ' the 
 love that thinketh no evil, but hopeth all things, be- 
 lieveth all things, endureth all things.' " 
 
 MATTHEW J. GALLAGHER 
 
 " BROOKLYN, N. Y., May 9, 1906. 
 "DEAR BROTHER: 
 
 " As per your request I send you a brief sketch of 
 my life. It is just one year, six months, fourteen days 
 since I entered the ' old McAuley Mission,' 316 Water 
 Street. I started a Christian life before, but, relying 
 too much on my own strength, and feeling that I could 
 again resume the company of my old companions 
 and keep from drink I did so, forgetting the Mis- 
 sion, and at the same time gradually turning my back 
 upon the truest friend of all sinners, Jesus Christ. 
 It was not long before I again found myself down 
 deeper in the mire of sin than I had ever been before. 
 I began to feel that all hope for me was gone. I de- 
 termined to give up my old companions, and I did so. 
 I went to the Salvation Army Hotel on Chatham 
 Square, feeling that I might possibly regain my self- 
 respect away from those who were near and dear to 
 me, as well as my old companions. While sitting in 
 the reading-room I got restless ; nothing seemed to 
 satisfy me, the spirit of Jesus working on one hand 
 and the devil on the other; it would be useless for me 
 to try to describe the mental anguish I suffered on 
 that occasion. I finally decided to visit the Water 
 Street Mission. I took a seat near the back, thinking 
 that no one would know me. I did not have the 
 least intention of going forward to the mercy seat,
 
 242 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 as I felt that all hope for me was gone, I could see 
 nothing before me but a drunkard's grave. When 
 the invitation was given, Brother Wyburn came di- 
 rectly to where I was sitting and asked me to go for- 
 ward, but I refused. I felt, as I said before, that I 
 was beyond redemption, but after some persuasion 
 I consented to go forward. I must confess it was 
 to please Brother Wyburn, and what a blessing it 
 has been to me since. I surrendered all to Jesus that 
 afternoon, October 23, 1904. I always remember the 
 prayer I offered, which was : ' My dear Jesus, I 
 leave myself in Thy hands, Thy will be done, not 
 mine.' What a wonderful transformation it has been. 
 The Lord has blessed me abundantly in the short space 
 of time I have been converted ; I have not found the 
 Christian life a bed of roses, the thorns are there 
 also. Two days after my conversion I had seven 
 hemorrhages ; I applied to the Bellevue Hospital for 
 admission, but they were so crowded they could not 
 take me in, but treated me at the dispensary, giving 
 me medicine to take three times a day before meals. 
 I had only one meal a day with the exception of 
 Sundays for two weeks, all this time taking the medi- 
 cine. I would wait for the whistles to blow, then put 
 the bottle to my lips and take what I thought to be 
 a teaspoonful (I did not have a spoon to take it with). 
 The Lord was good to me on that occasion, as with 
 the odds against me I rapidly regained my health, 
 and to-day can tip the scales at 178 pounds. I thank 
 God for the many friends which He has surrounded 
 me with. I thank Him that it was my great privi- 
 lege to know Brother S. H. Hadley, whom I learned 
 to love dearly, as I have been his assistant janitor,
 
 HIS MONUMENT 245 
 
 and janitor at Wesley, now Hadley Hall on the 
 Bowery, where I have the pleasure nightly of seeing 
 many souls won for Jesus. I had known the joy and 
 happiness of religious life in my younger days ; at 
 sixteen I became a member of the St. Vincent de 
 Paul Society of the Roman Catholic church, and for 
 ten years it was my pleasure nightly to go around 
 among the poor of my district lending a helping hand 
 and dropping a word of comfort and cheer wherever 
 I could. Words cannot describe the horror I felt 
 when I realised that I had become a slave to drink; 
 I fought it for over seven years, but it seemed that the 
 harder I fought the lower I descended into sin and 
 iniquity. I have sometimes walked through the 
 streets cursing the God that gave me life in one breath 
 and calling upon Him for mercy in the next. I was 
 always a firm believer in prayer, and I felt that some 
 day the Lord would answer my prayer. I thank God 
 that He did hear and answer my prayer one year, 
 six months and fourteen nights ago. I have never 
 wanted to drink since, or to swear or to do a great 
 many of the things I did in the old life. 
 
 " I have found the cure for drunkenness in the 
 solid rock Jesus Christ. It is my great privilege to 
 lead the Friday night meeting at Hadley Hall, 293 
 Bowery, also to have the honour of being the presi- 
 dent of the Wesley Brotherhood of the old John 
 Street M. E. Church, as well as being vice-presi- 
 dent of the Blue Button army at Water Street Mis- 
 sion. The way looks brighter as I travel steadily on. 
 I thank God for the Mission and the life of S. H. Had- 
 ley, in that his life was a benediction to me, for he 
 has taught me to love my fellow-man and lend a help-
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 ing hand to all who are low down in sin and wicked- 
 ness. Though the Lord has wonderfully blessed me, 
 I find that I need Jesus as much in my life to-day as 
 I did the first day I started out to serve Him. I find 
 the Christian life is a fight from start to finish, but 
 thank God, the harder the battle, the sweeter the 
 victory." 
 
 OTTO F. YOUNGS 
 
 ^ 
 " Rev. J. WILBUR CHAPMAN, D. D., 
 
 " DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 " Our mutual friend, Mr. Wyburn, tells me that you 
 wish some facts relating to some of the men who 
 were led from lives of drunkenness and sin, at the 
 McAuley Mission, 316 Water Street, New York, dur- 
 ing the superintendency of the late Mr. S. H. Hadley. 
 I am one. I was born and brought up here in New 
 York by Christian parents ; had a good home ; good 
 education; fine business prospects; married a fine 
 girl and had a bright family; and I lost home, love 
 of children, respect of friends, business opportunities, 
 my own self-respect, sense of honour, and all that 
 man holds dear in this world through sin and drink. 
 I had tried m every earthly way to shake off the hold 
 that whiskey had upon me, the so-called gold cures, 
 etc., but my will power was gone, no human power 
 seemed to help me. It was a life of ups and downs 
 until three years, four months and thirteen days ago, 
 after a prolonged debauch, absolutely homeless, friend- 
 less and penniless, right in this great city, where I 
 was once in an enviable position in every way, unable 
 to borrow even ten cents, for I had tried to in order 
 to get a drink and am thankful now that I failed,
 
 HIS MONUMENT 245 
 
 for had I got it it might have given me a little tem- 
 porary courage and I never would have gone into 
 that Mission ; but in the condition stated, and when 
 no one in the world seemed to have the least particle 
 of confidence in me, and I never blamed them, 
 I dropped into that God-blessed place. I was tired 
 and weak for want of food and sleep, and shaking 
 from debauch. It was about half-past four Sunday 
 afternoon, December 28, 1902. Mr. Hadley was 
 there ; Mr. Wyburn was giving the invitation after 
 Mr. Fitzgerald had sung, ' Under His wings I am 
 safely abiding.' My very soul was touched; all the 
 good that remained in my poor heart welled up, and 
 entirely broken in spirit, I went forward, and kneel- 
 ing at a settee along with three or four other sinners, 
 I prayed the prayer of the publican. When I arose 
 Mr. Hadley greeted me, then other gentlemen, and 
 Mrs. Hadley, Mrs. Lamont and others. I felt a sense 
 of sin forgiven, and although I had only fifteen 
 minutes previously been hopeless and ready to plunge 
 into the river from despair, I had a hope and a 
 courage such as had not been mine for years. God 
 had mercifully restored my soul. Mr. Hadley stood 
 by me and assisted me with money and sympathy and 
 advice and by his many Christlike examples until I 
 got on my feet. I and mine thank God for Mr. 
 Hadley and the McAuley Mission. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 "OTTO F. YOUNGS." 
 
 Mr. Hadley's work was of course almost entirely 
 among men, but his great heart went out to both 
 lost men and women. As has been said elsewhere,
 
 246 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 he searched the newspapers daily to find the names 
 of those awaiting burial and had no friend to weep 
 over them. The following appeared in the New York 
 World: 
 
 " Instead of a burial among the unknown dead in 
 Potter's Field, the body of the handsome young 
 woman who ended her life by poison in Central Park 
 ten days ago was taken last night to the rooms of 
 the Jerry McAuley Mission in Water Street, where 
 a simple funeral service was held. The body will 
 remain in the undertaking rooms at Nineteenth Street 
 and Eighth Avenue until to-morrow, when it will be 
 buried in Maple Grove Cemetery." 
 
 He was also used of God in the conversion of Cora 
 L. Dettinger, and at Mr. Hadley's request she wrote 
 the following as the account of her conversion: 
 
 " It is known to many that under God the Water 
 Street Mission has been the greatest blessing of my 
 life, and by God's great goodness I am enabled to 
 recount some of the wonderful things He has done 
 for me while I have been going there. Oh, the guilt, 
 and sin and shame I brought to Him there, and how 
 many a burden, how many a care, and how much sor- 
 row I left there when temptations threatened to over- 
 whelm me, and physical pain and weariness almost 
 made it impossible for me to go on, and when doubts 
 and fears oppressed me and entered my soul, and the 
 devil worked on my weakest points, and held out an 
 easier and pleasanter path, then I flew to my old ac- 
 customed place, second bench front, to tell Jesus all 
 about it, and He would make the devil leave me and 
 lift the burden, and angels would come and minister 
 to me, and Jesus Himself would take up His abode in'
 
 MR. AX1) MRS. OTTO YOUXci
 
 HIS MONUMENT 
 
 my heart, and gladden and comfort me, and health 
 and strength were given me from on high to help me 
 fight on. But the struggle is over, the fighting done. 
 I have made my unchanging choice for Christ. Vic- 
 tory has been mine and is mine. 
 
 " It is known to those who know me that Water 
 Street Mission holds a warm place in my heart, and 
 all feel it right that it should be so. It could not 
 very well be otherwise. To some the place may be 
 dear, to others perhaps precious and blessed, but to 
 me it was even more than that; it was absolutely in- 
 dispensable to me to persevere in the face of such 
 stupendous obstacles as faced me. 
 
 " When I had at length struggled to my feet and 
 secured a position at Child's restaurant, trouble as- 
 sailed me on every hand. Imagine a girl who has 
 done all she could for twenty years to destroy body 
 and soul (and I well-nigh succeeded), working 
 among people wholly uncongenial to her, to say noth- 
 ing of the physical and mental strain. Again and 
 again my strength would be taxed to the utmost, and 
 I would be compelled to leave my work, but I was 
 willing to do the most menial task, and bear most 
 anything to retain my hold on Jesus, the tender Sav- 
 iour, and make a living. 
 
 " It looked, however, as though the great sacrifice 
 of Jesus had been in vain after all. A very trying 
 ordeal, for which I was wholly unprepared, nearly 
 swept me off my feet. I had an alarm clock which 
 belonged to a girl who was my chum in the old life. 
 She took it, and I was left without any sort of clock 
 or watch. All my jewelry was left in pawn, and 
 how to be able to rise without an alarm clock was a
 
 248 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 problem. I was so fretful and worried for fear of 
 not waking up that I could neither sleep nor rest. I 
 had to keep a sort of all-night vigil in order not to 
 be late to my work. It was the custom then for all 
 the girls to change their shirt waists on Thursday. So 
 all unsuspecting of my new difficulty I went to the 
 laundry, when much to my dismay the man informed 
 me that there had been a fire, and in fact he showed 
 me my very own waist, all burned to rags. I told the 
 girl who was over me, and she said, ' To-morrow, then, 
 change/ but where was I to get the waist? 
 
 " The idea came to me to wash the one I wore my- 
 self, and I had to put it on half damp. I felt so 
 uncomfortable all day and altogether out of sorts 
 from lack of sleep and rest that when I got home I 
 was so disheartened I lost all my courage, and I 
 thought it was not in human flesh and blood to en- 
 dure more. 
 
 "The devil nearly triumphed, for I brought my 
 clenched hand down on my desk and with an oath I 
 swore it had all been a failure. I was a fool for ever 
 thinking I could remain saved and kept, and so I 
 turned my back on the crucified Redeemer, and was 
 about to rush headlong downtown to a place where 
 I spent years in sin. I had reached the steps when 
 a woman on the first floor shouted lustily after me 
 that here was a letter, had been there in fact all day, 
 only she did not hear me come home from work. 
 
 " When I looked at that letter I was quite positive 
 I had never seen the scratch of that pen before in my 
 life. I never had. It was from Mr. S. H. Hadley. 
 He quoted this verse to me : Isaiah liv. 10. ' The 
 mountains shall depart and the hills be removed ; but
 
 HIS MONUMENT 249 
 
 my kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall 
 the covenant of my peace be removed, saith the Lord 
 that hath mercy on thee.' But I found something 
 very substantial besides the verse of Scripture. I 
 felt many things. Here was this letter actually lay- 
 ing there, sent, I believe, by the Lord Himself to 
 cheer and help me, and I all the while getting more 
 irritable, and allowing myself to take my eyes off 
 God even for one minute. I felt so humiliated I went 
 back to my room. It took me a long time to climb 
 the stairs. I could hardly get myself to face God. 
 I was conscious of having wounded and grieved the 
 heart of the Saviour, when He in all thoughtful care 
 stood near me. When I imagined Him to be far off, 
 He was really nearest. 
 
 " I picked up my broken lamp which I had knocked 
 off my desk and after spending a long time in prayer 
 I went to bed by a candle light, and so shall I be 
 excused in regarding this Mission with the tenderest 
 affection of which my nature is capable. When I 
 further tell you of its incomparable worth to a life 
 broken and blighted by sin, held in chains which 
 Satan himself wound around me for years, and you 
 could see no way out of it, save to continue the degra- 
 dation and wickedness, to be delivered and released 
 from such an existence, such a bondage, and having 
 the old hideous sins taken out of your heart and life, 
 and have implanted pure and noble thoughts and in- 
 spirations, to which you had been a stranger for years, 
 that would have been enough. I should have been 
 devoutly thankful for so much, and would not have 
 been so greedy as to expect any more, but after re- 
 deeming my life from destruction ' He crowned me
 
 250 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 with loving kindness ' in giving me the friendship 
 and love of the entire household at 316, and He 
 lavished ' tender mercies ' upon me, for all of which 
 I am unworthy. In making me a welcome guest 
 at the Home and table upstairs I thought my cup was 
 full, but it was filled to overflowing one evening when 
 we all knelt around the dinner table and Mrs. Lamont 
 singled me out of the crowd and asked me to pray. 
 
 " I have only felt once or twice in my whole life 
 as I felt then, and I count it the richest experience of 
 my Christian life to associate and mingle in with these 
 godly people. What I have seen missing in my own 
 character I have seen depicted plainly enough in one 
 of them. That it has been quite easy for me to bring 
 my own shortcomings and failings to God and ask 
 Him clearly to put them right, I thank Him from my 
 deepest heart for all He has made the Mission and 
 the people I met there to me, but I thank Him even 
 more that He has claimed me for His child, that I 
 am His, and that I want to be more like Him every 
 day I live. He has laid the lost ones on my heart, and 
 has given me a boundless love and a high ambition to 
 help those who are so utterly lost and helpless, and it 
 has actually come to where I can say that I have been 
 made a blessing to some lives, and I thank Him, oh, 
 so much, for all that. 
 
 " I have often wondered and I have often been 
 asked, what might, or what could be the hidden, mys- 
 terious, secret power back of the great soul-saving 
 work going on night after night in the Water Street 
 Mission. Suggestions came and went to my mind, 
 but I could not arrive at any satisfactory conclusion 
 until very recently it came to me all of a sudden,
 
 HIS MONUMENT 251 
 
 while I was reading the story of the blind beggar, 
 and it is pity, real, true, genuine pity. 
 
 " It is an exceedingly rare possession, but it is 
 the great power in Water Street. Love never faileth. 
 
 " It was manifested in such marvellous degrees by 
 Jesus that the outcast and sick and sinning called 
 Him the Man of Compassion. The suffering blind 
 man never dreamed of such pity. The sinner never 
 looked for, nor imagined such depths of compassion. 
 How Jesus loved, because He first had pity, and pity 
 makes us all tender. When one has the power to 
 pity, you find power to help, comfort and bless. 
 
 " When all those sick people crowded around Jesus 
 with their sores and diseases, He looked on them with 
 compassion. He never turned away with disgust, al- 
 though the demand on Him was ceaseless, but he 
 blessed and healed all. It is so Christlike, the power 
 of pity, and there is such power in it still, for we see 
 it in Water Street practised, and given freely to all 
 who come and ask, and even those who don't ask get 
 an equal share and amount of pity and love and 
 tenderness. 
 
 " I ask God to so fill me with pity and love, so as to 
 make me a great blessing to His lost ones, and thus 
 bring great glory to His matchless name." 
 
 HARVEY GRAEME FURBAY 
 
 A miracle of grace indeed is Dr. Furbay. I knew 
 him in the days of his prosperity, and rejoice in his 
 great conversion. Of Mr. Hadley's influence he writes 
 as follows : 
 
 " To speak of S. H. Hadley as my heart prompts 
 or a sense of gratitude suggests, would seem fulsome.
 
 252 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 My going to Water Street Mission can never be con- 
 sidered other than a providential direction. Wander- 
 ing about the city of New York without definite pros- 
 pect and almost hopeless concerning deliverance from 
 drink, I met accidentally, no, providentially, a young 
 man with whom I had roomed in North Dakota when 
 doing some work for the Board of Publication and 
 Sunday School Work during my junior year in the 
 seminary, 1889. Seeing my condition, he said: 
 ' Why not go down to the McAuley Mission and 
 see Hadley?' Finally I did. When I saw Mr. Had- 
 ley and told him my name, he knew who I was. He 
 gave me a substantial meal, and a little money; then 
 asked me if I would pray and I told him that I did 
 not think it was of any use. He said : ' If you feel 
 that way it probably isn't.' He wanted me to come 
 to the meetings. I went once, but was not impressed, 
 did not respond to the invitation extended. Two or 
 three weeks later I went back ; no questions were 
 asked, no lecture was given, I was not chided, nor 
 scolded, nor reproached. 
 
 " I was almost hopeless. I had been treated for 
 alcoholism in seventeen different institutions. I had 
 prayed. I had isolated myself for weeks and months 
 at a time, all to no purpose. I listened to men giving 
 testimony in Water Street, and gradually hope, new 
 born on the wings of faith, arose in my heart, and I 
 began to pray. I cannot explain it ; but without 
 clothing, occupation, friends, or home ; separated from 
 and anxious about my two motherless girls, grad- 
 ually I became contented, lost my anxiety and experi- 
 enced that peace which comforts with ' Let not your 
 heart be troubled.' I dared not think of the future.
 
 HIS MONUMENT 253 
 
 From the many places where I had been treated for 
 inebriety I had come sober, but with no assurance as 
 to the future. When asked if I would refrain from 
 drink, my reply had always been ' I hope so.' 
 
 " Within less than ten days after my complete sur- 
 render and sincere willingness to do whatever Christ 
 would direct me to do, confidence that He would 
 never leave me nor forsake me took possession of 
 my heart. One trial came to me not many days after 
 giving my first testimony in Water Street. Two 
 clergymen came in and were seated near me, but did 
 not see me. They were men with whom I had spent 
 three years in a theological seminary my classmates. 
 I did not want to get up and give a drunkard's testi- 
 mony before them. I reasoned, I have started an 
 honest fight for my life and soul and I will preserve 
 my sincerity. Arising, I gave my testimony, and with 
 it came unexpected strength to my character, and I 
 have never wanted a drink of liquor from that day 
 to this. Mr. Hadley's knowledge of men, their hopes 
 and fears, their struggles and lapses, their environment, 
 nature and habits, gained by experience as drunkard 
 and gambler, and by association as lodging-house 
 keeper on the Bowery and as the dean of rescue 
 mission workers, was so sanctified that he was 
 ' touched with the feeling of our infirmities.' So, his 
 Christlike patience. 
 
 " He often said to me : ' Always treat a man so that 
 he will come back to you if he falls.' This accounts 
 for the ' hold he had on men.' A man's past was 
 of no concern to him. A declaration of Christ was 
 sufficient credential. Haclley said : ' That's all God 
 requires. If He is satisfied, I ought to be.'
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 " His forgiveness was not a mere formal declara- 
 tion, but an attitude of his nature which the outcast 
 perceived, and at once began to feel the thrill of re- 
 turning self-respect so essential to stability. 
 
 " One day in August, 1905, Mr. Hadley said to 
 me : ' People do not rightly understand the Scripture 
 which says, " Whosoever sins ye remit, they are re- 
 mitted unto them ; and whosoever sins ye retain they 
 are retained." That power is not limited to any 
 person or set of persons. It belongs to me ; it belongs 
 to any consecrated believer in Jesus Christ. We for- 
 give men's sins every day in Water Street. We say 
 to the poor broken man : " You have accepted Christ, 
 your sins are forgiven. You are not a drunkard, nor 
 a thief, nor a murderer, but our brother. We be- 
 lieve in you." ' 
 
 " This spirit, the spirit of the Master manifested 
 when He wrote on the sand, is what held men up to 
 their highest endeavours. From a human standpoint, 
 it is what gave me confidence during the early strug- 
 gle. This was the spirit with which Mr. Hadley had 
 imbued the Mission. It was not a place of suspicion, 
 but confidence. Men are not watched, but embraced. 
 Queries about possible stability were not entertained. 
 There was no exploiting of one and ignoring an- 
 other. The coal heaver or 'longshoreman was in 
 the Kingdom of Christ of same honour as the col- 
 lege-bred man or the offspring of some notable 
 family. The communism of the Gospel prevailed, 
 hence the convert had that best of environment dur- 
 ing his early struggles, brotherly love. 
 
 " Mr. Hadley never even remotely suggested the 
 possibility of a man not remaining ' saved.' Therein
 
 HIS MONUMENT 255 
 
 was manifested the simplicity and sublimeness of his 
 faith; and was supplied strength for the weak in the 
 hour of depression. 
 
 " By me, Samuel Hopkins Hadley must ever be 
 remembered as the providential agent through whom 
 I recovered my faith, was redeemed from destructive 
 habits and vices, and restored to activities for which 
 I had been trained and seemed to be endowed."
 
 XX 
 HIS MONUMENT (CONTINUED) 
 
 A FEW years ago the visitors to the Water 
 Street Mission were always impressed by the 
 presence of a grey-haired old gentleman. His 
 testimony was thrilling. One night what he said was 
 taken down and his testimony was sent us. 
 
 " Boys," he said, " if you think it's too late for you 
 to be saved, just look at me. I'm getting to be eighty 
 years of age, yet it was only a few years ago that I 
 was picked up, worse off than any of you. It wasn't 
 anything but drink that brought me down. I had a 
 good family and a good wife, but the liquor had a grip 
 on me that nothing could shake. When I found the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, boys, the whole thing passed away 
 like a dream. What was impossible before, was easy 
 then, boys. It don't matter what you think about it 
 now, boys; it'll be just as easy for you, once the love 
 of Jesus takes a hold. 
 
 " I began drinking when a boy, my friends just a 
 little beer and a little wine now and then, but it was 
 the reason of my complete downfall later. At thirty 
 I was a drunkard. I had to sneak away to keep the 
 fact from those who loved me, and I only returned 
 when I knew that I could keep sober for a week or so. 
 Gradually the desire got stronger, and I reached the 
 age of fifty, a sot. I was as hopeless a case as any of 
 you ever saw worse than any of you are now. Nine 
 
 256
 
 HIS MONUMENT 257 
 
 times after I was fifty I went to the Kings County 
 Inebriates' Home. There every human means to save 
 me was tried. It was all of no avail. Even the hor- 
 rors of delirium tremens failed to keep me straight. 
 Boys, I have helped to hold raving crazy men crazy 
 with the awful torture of delirium tremens; have had 
 them die in my arms, and knowing that the same ter- 
 rible end awaited me, have gone out and filled myself 
 with rum simply because I couldn't fight it! 
 
 " Boys, it was after I had come out of the home for 
 the ninth time that I wandered, shivering and cold, 
 into the Madison Square Park. I had been drunk for 
 days and was a physical and mental wreck. I sat down 
 on a bench and somebody spoke to me. I looked to 
 see who it was, but there was nobody near. Again I 
 heard the voice, and quaking with fear, I went to 
 another bench. The voice followed and then I knew 
 it was my old friend, the delirium tremens. 
 
 " Boys, I knew in an hour I would be suffering the 
 tortures of hell. I had just a few minutes to make 
 up my mind what to do. Should I go to the home 
 again? It had never done me more than temporary 
 good. Suddenly I remembered having seen the light 
 of this Mission, having heard the singing through the 
 closed doors, and having once heard a man who was 
 speaking say that Jesus Christ could save anybody. 
 ' I'll go there for a last chance/ I said to myself, 
 ' and, boys, I came here. They took care of me, and 
 though I fell more than once, they brought me to be 
 a good man. It's years since I have touched a drop, 
 boys, and I'll die when my time comes, without again 
 touching the poison. The Lord did it for me, boys, 
 and He'll do it for you."
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 Now he is unable to be at the Mission, but when he 
 heard that the story of Mr. Hadley's life was being 
 written, he wrote as follows: 
 
 " No. i Elm St., NEWBURGH, N. Y. 
 
 "June 18, 1906. 
 " Rev. SIR AND DEAR CHRISTIAN BROTHER : 
 
 " Knowing that you were to write up the life of 
 our precious brother, Hadley, that wonderful mis- 
 sionary to the lost, I thought that it was most fitting 
 that his great helpfulness, untiring sympathy and ex- 
 haustless Christian patience in securing my release 
 should be recorded along with those of others. 
 
 " My first acquaintance with Brother Hadley oc- 
 curred some time in 1889, then in my sixty-ninth year: 
 it happened in this wise. Being on the West Side of the 
 city, I strolled into Brother Stephen Merritt's Mission 
 on Franklin Street, bitterly conscious of my rum- 
 ruined condition, which every known means (except 
 the Divine) had failed to relieve. At the conclusion 
 of the services, Brother Merritt furnished me with 
 means and a note to Brother Hadley, at that time 
 managing a lodging house on the Bowery, which I 
 reached about ten o'clock. Brother Hadley had just 
 retired for the night, but after plying the clerk with 
 many persuasive importunities, he finally consented to 
 deliver the note which brought my dear brother from 
 his bed to my aid. He soon joined me in the vestibule 
 of the premises, receiving me with the most cheerful, 
 assuring and loving expression, so natural to him, and 
 took me to a near-by restaurant, where I got the best 
 in the house, with instruction to return to him when 
 through with my supper. Doing so, I found that he
 
 HIS MONUMENT 259 
 
 had arranged with his clerk for my lodging and food 
 for a time. My nature had become so perverted by the 
 habit of my life that anything beyond the mere grati- 
 fication of it had no force with me, and whatever else 
 might be done for me, the desire for drink was ever 
 uppermost. 
 
 " Having come to know Brother Hadley, I was 
 brought in touch with the dear old Mission in Water 
 Street, coming and going, not yet ready to part with 
 my misery, but oh, the I3th of September, 1890, in 
 my seventieth year, with Brother Hadley and dear 
 Sister Sherwood kneeling beside, I gave my heart to 
 God. He wrote His name thereon, sealed me to Him- 
 self. I am now in my eighty-seventh year and the 
 psalm of my life is ' Praise God from Whom all bles- 
 sings flow ' and the Missions where lost souls may go. 
 " With sincere Christian love, 
 
 " UNCLE REUB. JOHNSON." 
 
 JOHN H. WYBURN 
 
 Mr. Hadley's assistant for many years in his mis- 
 sion work at Water Street was John H. Wyburn. He 
 was brought out of the darkness of infidelity, and also 
 out of the power of strong drink, into glorious Chris- 
 tian manhood. His devotion to Mr. Hadley could 
 scarcely be put into words. He writes as follows : 
 
 "On September 25, 1888, I first met Rev. S. H. 
 Hadley. I shall never forget the first words he spoke 
 to me. I was telling him what I wanted to do (I was 
 in an awful drunken, miserable condition, too drunk 
 to live), to get sobered up, get back to my business, 
 when he said in a very significant tone of voice, ' Is 
 that all you want? ' I was astonished at his answer,
 
 260 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 and I thought, ' If you only knew how impossible it is 
 for me to get sober and keep sober,' but in a moment 
 he said with the love and light of heaven in his face, 
 ' What you need, my dear boy, is Salvation, Jesus 
 Christ in your heart; He's the one that will restore 
 to you what you have lost, will restore unto you all 
 things.' He invited me to stay and I did so. Never 
 shall I forget the wonderful testimonies I heard. I 
 thought they were all speaking especially for my bene- 
 fit. I stood up and said that I wanted some of that ! 
 It was a cry for redemption. I knew not what it was 
 at the time, but Jesus knew, bless His dear Name, and 
 on that night the devils were cast out. The old hard 
 heart of unbelief was made new, the cursed appetite 
 for whiskey was taken out of my life. 
 
 "From that night Mr. Hadley has been the guid- 
 ing star of my life ; it was he who led me to Jesus, 
 and for over seventeen years, nearly fifteen of which 
 I have had the privilege of being associated with him 
 in this wonderful work, into my heart and life, through 
 his influence, have come the love and pity he had for 
 lost souls who come into the Mission. For over 
 five years I have practically had charge of the work 
 down in Water Street, so far as the spiritual part goes. 
 Mr. Hadley was away the best part of the year, it 
 was a treat to have him here. Our work had become 
 so great that he was compelled to be absent raising 
 money for the needs of the Mission ; but his heart 
 was always here and I believe he is still with us in 
 spirit." 
 
 JOHN R. M'CONICA 
 
 S. H. Hadley was used not only to assist in lead- 
 ing men to Christ at Water Street, but he was enabled
 
 HIS MONUMENT 261 
 
 to send many a man out to do rescue work in other 
 cities ; such a man is the writer of the following : 
 
 " My conversion antedates Brother Hadley's super- 
 intendency of the Water Street Mission about one 
 year, having been converted when Mr. John F. 
 Shorey was the superintendent. I was in attendance 
 at the first meeting Brother Hadley conducted in the 
 Mission, and I was the first one Brother Hadley re- 
 quested to pray at that service. On that occasion I 
 learned to love him very dearly, and as the days went 
 by, my love for him intensified, until I looked upon 
 him almost as a brother in the flesh, as he surely was 
 in the spirit. I am also sure of the fact that he loved 
 me. With Mrs. Hadley he has been a guest at my 
 house when in Montreal, Fall River, Savannah and in 
 Norfolk. I have listened to him as he made me the 
 confidant of many of the secrets of his great soul, bar- 
 ing his heart, and surprising me by the glimpses I thus 
 received of the Christlikeness of his beautiful charac- 
 ter. I am indebted to him in every way, for material aid 
 in times of stress financially, and for wise counsels and 
 loving admonitions of a spiritual nature by which I 
 have been ' built up in my faith ' and received clearer 
 conceptions of the God-love manifested through the 
 blessed Jesus to me. This memory will ever be an 
 inspiration to me and an incentive to greater efforts 
 for the greater uplifting of those who are ' down and 
 out.' How we (my family and I) miss him. We can 
 scarcely realise, as yet, that he has gone to his reward. 
 Dear Brother Chapman, may all of us so live that ' at 
 the sounding of the trumpet when the saints are gath- 
 ered home, we shall greet each other by the Crystal 
 Sea/ " Sincerely your Brother in Christ."
 
 2G2 S. H. HADLEY OF 'WATER STREET 
 
 WILLIAM F. ELLIS 
 
 " Fifteen years ago I came to New York after I 
 had deliberately thrown a business away. On Sun- 
 day night, in a drunken frame of mind in an Eastern 
 city, not very far from here, I took the key of my 
 business, a saloon, and threw it over the transorp 
 of the door, and took a midnight train for Baltimore, 
 where I had relatives living ; but I made it so unpleas- 
 ant for them with my drinking habits that they soon 
 got tired of me, and gave me money and a ticket to 
 go back to the city I had come from; like many an- 
 other fellow I got no further than the Bowery in New 
 York City, and there I began to go down and down, 
 until I finally reached the gutter. Time and time 
 again I had to be sent to institutions for drunkenness, 
 but all to no avail. On the night of November 10, 
 1903, God in His infinite goodness touched my guilty 
 soul in the dear old McAuley Mission and set me free, 
 and thank God I have been free ever since. If God 
 had only saved me from the appetite for strong drink, 
 I would even then be a most happy man, but I never 
 knew what genuine happiness was until I got the 
 grace of God deeply rooted in my heart. The dear 
 Master has given me love for others that are down in 
 the horrible pit and miry clay like I once was, and He 
 has also restored my darling little daughter to me, who 
 was lost to me for about six years. There is only one 
 thing in my life that I wish for now, and that is to 
 know more of Him who died for me. Praise His 
 Holy Name."
 
 HIS MONUMENT 263 
 
 W. H. QUINN 
 
 From Hell to Heaven 
 
 " There was no time in my life that I did not know 
 the taste for liquor. One of the first things that I 
 remember is drink and its surroundings. As a child 
 I just loved the taste of it and was ever ready and 
 willing to go for a can of beer or a bottle of whiskey. 
 I well remember how I would take a drink in the hall 
 and then look for more in the house. So I had an 
 early start on the road that would surely land me in 
 hell. Unlike most boys, I had no early Christian train- 
 ing or Sunday School teachings. I have often testi- 
 fied that I came into this world, and then became like 
 the people I grew up among, a drunkard and a 
 crooked man. At the age of fourteen I had already 
 been arrested and in court twice. As I grew older 
 and had a taste of prison life, the longing came over 
 me many times to lead a different life. How well I 
 remember on Sunday morning, seeing well-dressed, 
 smiling, happy people going and coming from church, 
 and I wished that I was like them. At that time I 
 thought it was because they had friends, and home, 
 and money, that they looked so happy. Then I would 
 go and do something wrong to get money, and that 
 would mean more whiskey and more misery. When 
 I wanted whiskey I would stop at nothing to get it. 
 I remember one Sunday afternoon while walking 
 along the streets half crazy from Saturday night's de- 
 bauch, I came to a saloon, in the window of which 
 was a display of bottles of whiskey. The very sight 
 of these was like putting a match to dynamite, and I 
 broke in that large plate glass window and taking
 
 264 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 several quart bottles of the whiskey ran and got away 
 with them. I do not think it would have been safe 
 for anyone to have attempted to stop me that Sunday. 
 I kept going from bad to worse. Of course, there 
 were times when locked up, that I had no whiskey, 
 and at such times I would say, ' When I get out of 
 here, I will disappear. I will go to another city where 
 no one knows me and get work, stop drinking and be 
 an honest, respectable man.' But it was of no use. I 
 could not change my way of living. I knew no other 
 life, yet I longed to be good. Then I enlisted in the 
 United States regular army, thinking that the disci- 
 pline, etc., there would lead me at least to live a 
 straight life. But there I was soon regarded as 
 crooked, and I did not like that name, among over 
 eight hundred men. Before long I had had my first 
 court-martial, and several others followed with guard- 
 house sentences. Coming back from the funeral of 
 the late President McKinley, my company being there 
 on duty, I got on a frightful drunk, and when my 
 money was all gone, I borrowed all that I could, sold 
 all my clothes, got trusted for as much whiskey as I 
 could, and then I was not through. I still wanted 
 drink and I got it, and the police got me. I committed 
 a crime at night that enabled me to satisfy for a time 
 my craving for drink, and a few days later I was ar- 
 rested, tried and again was behind the bars. Then my 
 discharge was mailed to me from the Army. It read: 
 ' Discharged without honour for being held by civil 
 authorities.' While in that prison one day, a Christian 
 lady asked me where I was going when released ; 
 where was my home? I told her I was going to get 
 away from that part of the country. I did not know
 
 HIS MONUMENT 265 
 
 where to go, I had no home, I had nothing, I was 
 nothing. In time I reached New York and got work 
 several times, but could not keep it. So I slept in 
 parks and on docks, living off ' free lunch ' bars. But 
 I did not ' live/ I merely existed until September 25, 
 1902. That day in a half-dead condition in a saloon 
 on Park Row, New York City, not knowing what to 
 do, another drunkard asked me where I was ' putting 
 up.' I told him I was holding down that pier at the 
 foot of Twenty-fourth Street. He said : ' How long 
 are you in New York ? ' I replied : ' A few months.' 
 When he learned that I did not know where Water 
 Street Mission was and that I did not know Mr. Had- 
 ley, he told me that I was ' slow ' ; then he began to 
 teach me a new way of getting a living without work. 
 He said : ' This Mr. Hadley used to be a drunkard, and 
 now he wants to help the man that is down and out. 
 So you get as drunk as you can and go down to the 
 Mission, and if you are only foxy you can work that 
 place all winter. When you are through there, I will 
 give you a list of other places.' That night found me 
 in the Mission, with no good intentions in my heart. 
 The man who was with me asked me how much I was 
 going to touch Mr. Hadley for, and what story I 
 would give him. I replied : ' I can't tell until I size 
 him up.' I do not know anything about the first part 
 of the meeting, only when a man had finished his solo 
 I wanted to applaud and bring him out again. I had 
 never been in a mission before. But when men stood 
 up and testified that they knew all about the life that 
 I was living because they had lived it, and told how 
 Jesus had come into their lives, and had taken away 
 all desire for whiskey and wrongdoing, then I was
 
 266 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 awake. One man said that only two weeks ago he was 
 a drunkard in the gutter and Jesus had saved him. 
 I sprang to my feet and said, ' I want to be like those 
 fellows.' I was told to sit down and I would get a 
 chance later on ; the man that was with me said I was 
 getting crazy; when the invitation was given to those 
 who wanted to start in the new life the Christian 
 life I was one of the first to come forward, and as I 
 knelt there I forgot all that man had told me about 
 ' working ' the mission. It just seemed like the Holy 
 Spirit came into my life and illuminated my darkened 
 understanding, and made it very plain to me why I 
 was a homeless drunkard and a crooked man. It was 
 because I was a sinner. So I knelt at Jesus' feet with 
 a sincere desire in my heart to get away from a sinful 
 life. I was asked to pray, but did not know how. 
 Then I was told to say, ' God be merciful to me, a 
 sinner, for Jesus' sake.' I did so, and because I was 
 sorry for my sins and meant business and wanted to 
 know this Jesus that the men told me about, God 
 heard and answered my prayer. Praise His Name. 
 Now I want to be like Him, for He has taken out of 
 my life all desire for whiskey, lying, stealing, and in 
 fact, every evil that was in my old life. ' Old things 
 have passed away and all things have become new.' 
 How I want to tell out the glad news of the power of 
 God to save and keep such as I was. There is sel- 
 dom a day but there is someone to whom I tell of the 
 power of God to save all that come unto Him. One 
 day a minister told me about a man whose wife was 
 a member of his church. He was often drunk, and 
 the dear wife with a breaking heart would ask this 
 pastor to do something for him. But he did not know
 
 HIS MONUMENT 267 
 
 what to do. He said, ' When a man is drunk I know 
 it is no use talking to him, and when he is sober, I 
 have not the courage.' Right here I believe God used 
 me. For I told this good man that God could save a 
 man when drunk as well as when sober, and told him 
 of several men who came to the Mission and knelt 
 down drunk, and got up sober and, praise God, have 
 been sober ever since. He said, ' I am glad I met you 
 and had this talk. The next time this man is drunk 
 I am going to get him on his knees/ Indeed, he 
 seemed somewhat anxious that he would get drunk 
 soon; that he might tell him that Jesus could remove 
 the desire for whiskey from him forever. 
 
 " Two days after the Lord saved me He gave me 
 a good job, and I have made an honest living for 
 almost four years. I think I get more out of this 
 salvation than most people I hear testify. They tell 
 how God has restored to them the things that Satan 
 had robbed them of; how they fell from a high social 
 position, etc. Well, I had never been up to come 
 down. 
 
 " But now God has blessed me with things I never 
 dreamed of, things that I never had. Now I go to 
 church, and am happy like those I once envied. All 
 because I belong to Jesus. Neither tongue nor pen 
 can express what Mr. Hadley's life and teaching and 
 influence have been to me. God used him to make me 
 comprehend what there is to enjoy in the Christian 
 life. I thank God for nearly four years of close fel- 
 lowship with this man of God. I am enlisted now in 
 the Army of the Lord, and when my enlistment is up 
 and the bugle calls me to my Saviour, the Commander- 
 in-Chief, I want an honourable discharge, and a place
 
 268 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 with Him in His Kingdom. What God has done for 
 me, He can do for anyone, no matter how low down, 
 if they will only come to Him and mean business." 
 
 THOMAS C. MILLERICK 
 
 How a rebel became a regular by the instrumen- 
 tality of Samuel Hopkins Hadley. 
 
 " Born in New York City, the first remembrance I 
 have of my being was at my mother's knee, where she 
 taught me my evening prayer, and then she would 
 lift me up and place me in her lap, and sing the old 
 familiar hymns, one I distinctly remember, ' Oh, 
 Happy Day that Fixed My Choice,' and after singing 
 she would talk to me. I now believe she was praying 
 about me, and asking God to take care of her boy. 
 Thank God for such recollections, which money could 
 not buy if they could be sold. When I was about five 
 or six years old she took me to a Methodist Sunday 
 School, and while she left me in the infant class, she 
 attended the Class Meeting; after classes were over, 
 we went upstairs, to the church service. This is the 
 life I lived and was brought up to until I was about 
 sixteen years old. Mother had died one year previous, 
 and father just three years later. After mother's 
 death I had my own way the greater part of the time, 
 stayed out late at night, went to theatres, balls, pic- 
 nics, and places of such kind. I was not content at 
 school, so I secured employment with a banking house 
 in this city. I remained eight years with this house, 
 during which time I had the brightest prospects of 
 making a name for myself in a business way, yet 
 ' What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world
 
 269 
 
 and lose his own soul ? ' But I neglected the early 
 training and went into sin by seeking the pleasures 
 of this world. 
 
 " When about seventeen years of age I found my- 
 self on the race track, and I became infatuated with 
 the game, so much so that I robbed my employers, 
 pawned any and everything obtainable to get money 
 to bet. At first I made money for three or four 
 years and never thought I would be in want of a 
 dollar, or a friend, but alas, alas, the things of this 
 world are fleeting. During these few years I had 
 learned to drink, for then I looked upon it as a manly 
 act to be able to drink whiskey. The habit grew and 
 grew, from just liking it to an appetite which I could 
 not control. 
 
 " Once I stood at the bar drinking in a fashionable 
 cafe, which I was accustomed to frequent, when the 
 bartender, noticing that whiskey had a hold on me, 
 said, ' Young man, if you stick to that stuff you will 
 wear old clothes.' I laughed at him, thinking he was 
 joking, and again he said, ' If you do, you will re- 
 member my words.' I shall never forget them, and 
 wish I could burn them in letters of fire before every 
 young man who is just beginning to drink intoxicat- 
 ing liquors, not because it brings old clothes, but 
 because of hell, and lost condition of soul it brings. 
 
 " From that time on I gradually went down, and 
 it took me about ten years to get to the bottom. This 
 incident in my life was brought home to me shortly 
 after my conversion in the Water Street Mission, by 
 the words which are painted on the wall, ' The drunk- 
 ard shall come to poverty.' 
 
 " It would be impossible for me to describe what
 
 270 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 I went through those ten years, each year growing 
 weaker and weaker, as to being able to recover myself. 
 At first given good advice by friends and employers, 
 I was helped in every way possible until they finally 
 had to drop me with the words, ' He is no good, he is 
 no good.' I secured position after position, only to 
 lose them by the appetite which mastered me. My 
 home was broken upon two different occasions, and 
 my relatives left me to the doom which was before 
 me, at last a wanderer, and an outcast. 
 
 " I often asked myself the question why I was born 
 to live such a hell on earth and often wished I was 
 dead. I would seek the most secluded spots I could 
 find, such as docks, parks, and the outskirts of the 
 city, so that I would not be seen by those who 
 knew me. 
 
 " In the daytime I was longing and wishing for 
 the night to come, and in the night wishing for the 
 day to come, hungry, tired, and hopeless of ever get- 
 ting away from such a life. Oh ! the life of a drunk- 
 ard, so filled with remorse and anguish, which cannot 
 be described. 
 
 " At this period of my life I often wandered into 
 missions ' to pass the time away/ in sleeping or get- 
 ting warm, often impressed with the service, but only 
 to go out again to wander, and think ' what is going 
 to become of me?' Why I did not embrace Chris- 
 tianity at this time I cannot say, unless it was that I 
 was not ready to give up a worldly life, with all its 
 misery. I wanted to be sober, but thought there was 
 no happiness in a Christian life. What a mistake! 
 The only true happiness and peace is found in living 
 a Christian life. I am glad I am a Christian to-day ;
 
 HIS MONUMENT 271 
 
 I am glad I am alive, for life with Christ is heaven 
 upon earth. Towards the end of this downward 
 career I would do and have done almost anything to 
 obtain money to satisfy my desires and appetites, and 
 have taken some desperate chances, so much so that 
 if I had been caught by the authorities, I could have 
 been sent away for a long term of years, and yet I was 
 never charged by the law with any greater crime than 
 drunkenness, for which I am grateful. 
 
 " On Saturday, January 2.2, 1898, I was discharged 
 from a position for drunkenness and dishonesty, a 
 politer way of putting it than calling one's self a thief. 
 With my salary in my pocket I went to a saloon and 
 there remained playing cards until the time of closing, 
 which was midnight. More or less under the influence 
 of whiskey, four of us adjourned to one of the players' 
 rooms, where we continued to play until six o'clock 
 Sunday morning. Then I arose from the table, stone 
 broke, and commenced to drown my sorrow in more 
 whiskey, and succeeded in that, for I slept off two 
 drunks that day. My last recollection of the afternoon 
 was at two o'clock. When I awoke I was in the Water 
 Street Mission about seven o'clock, Sunday evening, 
 January 23, 1898. 
 
 " Where I was or had been since the early after- 
 noon I cannot tell, nor can I tell how or when I got 
 into the Mission because of the utter intoxication I 
 was in. Here ends the first chapter of my life as a 
 drunkard, or rebel. 
 
 " But I will never be able to write by pen or convey 
 in speech the second chapter as a Christian, or regular, 
 until I see Jesus and thank Him for redemption and 
 for bringing Samuel Hopkins Hadley into my life.
 
 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 I was asleep as dear Brother Hadley came into the 
 Mission. He saw me and wakened me, saying, ' Is 
 this one of the regulars ? ' No, I was not ; as my life 
 story indicates, I was a rebel, and had lived in open 
 rebellion against God's Kingdom all my life until that 
 night. Brother Hadley has often said, ' Some men 
 will sleep themselves into hell,' and that was just 
 what I was doing after my debauch. 
 
 " The meeting was now beginning with song and 
 prayer. One song I remember: 
 
 " ' I stood outside the gate, a poor wayfaring child, 
 Within my heart there beat a tempest loud and wild ; 
 A fear oppressed my soul, that I might be too late 
 And, oh, I trembled sore, and prayed outside the gate.' 
 
 " Then I heard testimonies of redeemed drunkards, 
 and it seemed to sober me somewhat, for they were 
 telling over and over my life story, and they said that 
 Jesus had saved them out of it and they were now 
 living Christian lives, and they were happy and pros- 
 perous, and furthermore they said this Jesus would 
 do the same for anyone that came to Him. I believed 
 these men. 
 
 " Mr. Hadley at the close of the meeting said, ' It 
 was on Sunday evening that I was born again.' He 
 wanted to know if there was anyone in the room that 
 wished to be born again, and live a Christian life and 
 start for heaven, and then said if there was anyone, to 
 stand on his feet. 
 
 " I accepted the invitation by springing to my feet, 
 so eager was I that night to die to the old life. He 
 then invited those who stood to come forward and
 
 HIS MONUMENT 273 
 
 kneel down and pray. Eleven men responded. I was 
 somewhat dazed from the effects of my debauch, and 
 really did not know what to say or pray for, but 
 Brother Hadley said, ' Pray " God be merciful to me 
 a sinner, for Jesus' sake." : I did so, and I am glad 
 to say that God heard the prayer and answered it by 
 redeeming me from a sinful life. After we prayed 
 Mr. Hadley asked us to make a statement. We all 
 said something. I told him I had prayed God be 
 merciful to me a sinner and that I believed He had 
 done so, and I have been believing it ever since. 
 Brother Hadley then took us by the hand and wished 
 us God-speed in the new life. 
 
 " As I was leaving the Mission that night very 
 much sobered up, I was met at the door by a lady. 
 She greeted me with a smile and a warm shake of the 
 hand. I afterwards knew her as Mrs. Bentley, the 
 missionary. She asked me to come back the follow- 
 ing evening, but to trust God for the future. How 
 vague those words sounded then, but now I under- 
 stand them, and no good thing has He withheld 
 from me. 
 
 : ' This yielding myself to God was as wonderful a 
 conversion as St. Paul's, for in my mad career pre- 
 vious to finding myself in the Mission I was not 
 thinking of God, of Jesus, Church, or Mission. My 
 one thought for days had been to get away from rela- 
 tives, friends and self by going across the continent 
 to Frisco, Cal., but God works in a mysterious way 
 His wonders to perform, and while I thought I was 
 very far from Him, He was very near to me, and He 
 brought me to Himself. Oh, what a change in my 
 life from that night ! Words are inadequate to ex-
 
 274 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 press the joy, peace, and happiness I have experienced 
 in the knowledge of sins forgiven and Sonship of 
 God. 
 
 " The Christian life I had to live all over again just 
 like a little child. I did not even remember the Lord's 
 Prayer, and the Bible was a sealed book to me, just 
 like so much Greek. 
 
 " The Monday morning after my conversion when 
 I awoke, I did not want a drink, something unusual 
 in my life, especially after a debauch. I then recalled 
 the happenings in the Mission the night before, and 
 began to believe that I was saved, for I did not want 
 a drink that day, nor for months and months after. 
 Since that time a work of grace has been going steadily 
 on in my life until the old life has completely passed 
 away, and new desires and ambitions are now filling 
 its place. Surely, ' if any man be in Christ, he is a 
 new creature.' During the first and second year of the 
 new life I was weak in the faith, and on several occa- 
 sions temptation overcame me and I fell back in the 
 old ways for a few days, but only to return penitent 
 and with a stronger determination to live a Christian 
 life to the end. And the dear Lord by His Holy 
 Spirit has led me along thus far to know that ' Christ 
 is all in all.' 
 
 " About eight weeks after my conversion I secured 
 employment, the same which I hold at present, by the 
 grace of God. He gave my employer confidence in 
 me and since then I have held a responsible position. 
 Not long after that friends, relatives and home were 
 again what they used to be in bygone years. I united 
 with a church, the same church where I attended Sun- 
 day School. I became an active member, then a stew-
 
 HIS MONUMENT 275 
 
 ard and a little later those good people saw fit to make 
 me their class leader. When they are going to stop 
 bestowing their love upon me I do not know, but one 
 thing I do know, the happiest days of my boyhood 
 were spent in this church, and thank God I am now 
 enjoying them over again, with the blessed conscious- 
 ness that it is all real, very real. ' The grace of God 
 it is so sweet.' Brother Hadley made me a co-worker 
 with him at the Mission, appointing me a leader with 
 the blessed privilege of inviting sinful men to Jesus. 
 What joy it gives one to see His double returning 
 home again to the Father to wander no more ; to see 
 him changed and in his right mind, after receiving 
 power over the old life, and receiving the good things 
 which God has in store for them that trust Him. 
 
 " During these years I have learned much from 
 Brother Hadley. As he lived Christlike he has been 
 an example, a teacher and a guide to me, always of- 
 fering words of encouragement and comfort. I can 
 now say he was more interested in my welfare than I 
 have been myself. 
 
 " Can I ever thank God enough for Samuel Hop- 
 kins Hadley, and for his disturbing me in my drunken 
 sleep, which by so doing has brought me new life, 
 salvation and heaven right here? 
 
 " Hallelujah ! for freedom to-day from whiskey, 
 tobacco, and everything that is wicked and bad."
 
 XXI 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 
 
 NOT a very great while ago one of the most 
 distinguished politicians died. He was 
 formerly a member of the President's Cab- 
 inet and had rendered invaluable service to his country 
 along political lines. He was truly a great man and 
 yet the newspaper comments concerning his passing 
 away from his political career were not for a moment 
 to be compared with the references in the public press, 
 both secular and religious, to the life and work of S. 
 H. Hadley, whose mission in life was to help uplift 
 others from whom the world, and alas, too often, even 
 the Church had turned away. 
 
 The editor of the Westminster, Dr. Richard S. 
 Holmes, has placed in verse his tribute to Mr. Hadley : 
 
 A broken reed on which no life could lean : 
 
 A bit of floatsam tossed on hostile shore: 
 
 A human wreck was he, and nothing more. 
 Sometimes the thought of what he might have been 
 Fell on his soul. As snowflakes on the green 
 
 In late spring days, when winter's rule is o'er 
 
 Whiten a moment, then pass open door 
 Of waking earth into the vast unseen : 
 So fell the thought on this poor ruined soul 
 
 But left no impress for a future good. 
 And then the change, " Christ Jesus makes thee whole." 
 
 Grew straight the broken reed : the wave-tossed wood 
 Became a way mark: and the wreck a guide 
 To souls adrift out on Sin's whelming tide. 
 
 276
 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 277 
 
 Under the heading, " A Dramatic Religious Ca- 
 reer," the Literary Digest says: 
 
 " There is a certain dramatic appeal to the imagi- 
 nation in the story of a direct descendant of the 
 relentless theologian, Jonathan Edwards, who grad- 
 ually sinks from respectability and well being until 
 he is a hopeless drunkard, a gambler, a thief, and 
 ultimately that forlorn wreck known as a ' bum/ 
 and is then lifted from the depths to a life of 
 such efficiency that at his death it is seriously af- 
 firmed from one pulpit that he ' was the greatest 
 American of his time not measured in money or in 
 fame, but in love and in likeness to Christ.' Such is 
 the story of the Rev. Samuel Hopkins Hadley, for 
 more than twenty years at the head of the old Jerry 
 McAuley Mission in Water Street, New York." 
 
 Dr. Arthur T. Pierson, in the Missionary Review 
 of the World, says : 
 
 " I have never known the equal of Samuel Hopkins 
 Hadley as a winner of souls. In his death the Chris- 
 tian Church has experienced the greatest loss in this 
 respect in half a century." 
 
 Dr. James M. Buckley, in the Christian Advocate, 
 New York, says : 
 
 " Mr. Hadley's inexhaustible patience appears in 
 what he was wont to say of his methods, ' If a man 
 cheats me nineteen times, I shame him out by trusting 
 him the twentieth.' As a man he was of more than 
 ordinary ability his imagination was vivid, vocabu- 
 lary large and of good quality, his susceptibility and 
 suggestibility great, his wit unusually bright, his sym-
 
 278 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 pathies easily excited, and he was master of the art 
 of good-fellowship. Down to the depths he sank ; up 
 from the depths he rose ; regenerated and moved upon 
 by the Spirit he ' felt the infirmities ' of those he would 
 help. More than that, he loved them." 
 
 The following are grouped from the Literary 
 Digest: 
 
 " ' He has been a power for good beyond the pos- 
 sibilities of just estimation,' says the New York Ex- 
 aminer; and we are told elsewhere that he so quick- 
 ened the work of Jerry McAuley's Mission that 
 leaders of religious thought and sociological students 
 from all parts of the world came to the humble head- 
 quarters at Water Street to learn of him. ' The work 
 of this unique mission/ states the Episcopal Recorder, 
 f was carried on by converts, who were once thieves, 
 tramps, sandbaggers, or drunkards, and they have 
 proved themselves workmen that need not to be 
 ashamed.' Mr. Hadley used to say that more thieves 
 and drunkards had crossed the threshold of the Mis- 
 sion than that of any other building in the city, except 
 the Tombs Prison." 
 
 The Philadelphia Press says: 
 
 " The good man never dies. 
 
 " So ' Hopp ' Hadley is dead, and one of the coun- 
 try's greatest philanthropists has fallen. 
 
 " Yes, ' great philanthropist ' ; it is not the man who 
 gives millions that he will never miss, to keep his own 
 name blazoned forth in perpetuity, upon some public 
 building, that is the true philanthropist. Philanthropy, 
 as everyone who knows words understands at a
 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 279 
 
 glance, does not mean money-giving; it means 
 humanity-loving. A man may be a lover of his kind 
 and prove it, yet not know where his own next month's 
 rent is coming from. 
 
 " It is possible to be a penniless philanthropist ; and 
 it is also possible to be a million-dollar-giving enemy 
 of the race. 
 
 " ' Hopp ' Hadley, as a wide diversity of friends 
 affectionately styled him, because of his limp; Sam- 
 uel H. Hadley, as the records run, loved his fel- 
 low men with an intensity, a quenchless hopefulness; 
 and a tireless helpfulness marked him as one of the 
 saviours of his time. At close grips and at personal 
 cost he served mankind. No dilettante aesthetic he, 
 toying with the problem of poverty and wretchedness as 
 a drawing-room diversion. He went straight down to 
 the mire where the outcasts lie, and in spite of dirt 
 and drink and ingratitude, and all manner of unloveli- 
 ness, he persisted in lifting men up. 
 
 " Most social reformers would go out of business 
 in a week if they had to touch with their own white 
 hands the actual men and women who make up the 
 problems which they study. 
 
 " It was a great gratitude and a great love which 
 made Hadley an ' apostle to the drunkard.' Many 
 Philadelphia audiences have heard him tell the story 
 of his life, which was also the story of the Water 
 Street Mission, New York, for twenty years past. In 
 his own picturesque speech, which to the end retained 
 the flavour of the Bowery twenty-four years ago, he 
 was ' down and out ' a drunkard, a forger, an out- 
 cast, a ' bum.' Delirium tremens had all but com- 
 pleted the wreck of mind and body. Suddenly he made
 
 280 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 a resolution while sitting in a Harlem dive, a home- 
 less, penniless sot, that he would quit drink and the 
 old life. Alas, his will power was gone, and he had 
 made the same determination many times before. On 
 this occasion he had an illumination: He would have 
 himself locked up. And he did. There in a narrow 
 cell thronged with all the imps that haunt the drink- 
 crazed, he underwent a religious experience which 
 transformed his life almost beyond belief. Every year 
 since then, on the anniversary of his conversion, he 
 has gone back to that station house, and in the 
 same cell he has had a little prayer meeting by him- 
 self. 
 
 " There is no measuring the might of a man with 
 a tremendous purpose. 
 
 " The ex-crook, ex-drunkard, ex-' bum,' gave him- 
 self to the work of lifting up the men who are still 
 as low as he had been. On the East Side of New York 
 he found no lack of material. The romance of his 
 life lies in the fact that hundreds of men in honourable 
 places to-day, their past all unsuspected by their pres- 
 ent associates, were helped out of the Bowery gutters 
 by this indomitable optimist. This means more than 
 the commonplace fact that among the thousands of 
 poor wrecks whom Hadley succoured there were men 
 from every corner of America and the whole world, 
 who once had borne honourable names ; for even the 
 highest may fall to the lowest, ' Facilis descensus 
 Averni.' But the climb from a Harlem dive to the 
 heights of respectability and honour and usefulness 
 is a rugged and romantic way. 
 
 : ' This man Hadley knew that it was possible for 
 the lowest to be lifted up; his reason was the best in
 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 281 
 
 the world; he had gone through the experience him- 
 self. So his patience with the weak and the will-less, 
 the indifferent, and the mere pretenders, was nothing 
 short of divine. I heard him tell in the Garrick 
 Theatre one day of a ' bum ' to whom he had given 
 shelter, who straightway stole his overcoat. But that 
 didn't interfere with his welcome the next time he 
 could be reached. Time after time the poor drunken 
 rogue played his benefactor false. But Hadley lived 
 to see that particular wretch become an upright, useful 
 man. 
 
 " There will be no imposing mausoleum to hold 
 Hadley's body ; but thousands of men are scattered 
 over the earth, walking in their integrity, monuments 
 to his life. 
 
 " Illiterate, yet the author of a heart-gripping book 
 that has sold twenty thousand copies; unpolished in 
 speech, yet moving audiences of thousands of educated 
 persons ; unequipped with a theological education, yet 
 able to preach with a power which few doctors of 
 divinity ever attain; honoured by the great and yet 
 unspoiled and ever impatient to be back in the Bowery 
 with his ' bums/ for whom he prayed with his last 
 gasp such was this mighty philanthropist, S. H. Had- 
 ley, superintendent of the Jerry McAuley Mission, 
 ' down in Water Street,' New York. Few kings have 
 had such a funeral cortege as he ; for the poor, the 
 outcast, the drunken and the criminal of a great city 
 knew him as a friend and helper. 
 
 " The greatest usefulness is the greatest success : 
 ' Hopp ' Hadley was more successful than hundreds 
 of millionaires. 
 
 " Passersby wondered what it meant to see a silent
 
 282 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 stream of 400 men and women walk rapidly down 
 under Brooklyn Bridge, stop before a modest little 
 building on Water Street and then crowd into a little 
 room not half big enough to hold then. The reason 
 for this was that nearly everybody that had met Samuel 
 H. Hadley there in the last nineteen years wanted to 
 look once on his dead face and to tell of his living acts. 
 There was little time for these oral testimonies during 
 the brief funeral services. One convert, the first, 
 repeated his story, and some of the business men who 
 have helped to make possible the unbroken usefulness 
 of the Old Jerry McAuley Mission told how the sin- 
 cerity of this man's life had won their absolute con- 
 fidence. Many of the onlookers wept silently. 
 
 " Outside, the tugs in the East River whistled. A 
 band played for an Italian funeral two blocks away. 
 The picks of the street cleaners in the hard snow 
 clacked against the pavement. Nobody minded these 
 things. It was all a part of the life Sam Hadley be- 
 longed to. Somebody asked, after it was all over with, 
 where were the converts of the mission those ragged, 
 blear-eyed hulks. 
 
 " ' Why, these are all respectable, clean-looking 
 men ! ' exclaimed the visitor. 
 
 " ' They are now. That is what Sam Hadley was 
 good for.' " 
 
 The New York Tribune says : 
 
 " A good man is gone and a great loss is suffered 
 by the world in the death of Samuel Hopkins Hadley. 
 ' When our names are blotted out and our place knows 
 us no more/ said Huxley, ' the energy of each social 
 service will remain, like the unending stream of one
 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 283 
 
 of nature's forces.' There is no incongruity in com- 
 paring the energy of Hadley's social service with that 
 of even some of the greater of nature's forces. It is 
 said, probably without exaggeration, that at his meet- 
 ings at the Water Street Mission in those last twenty 
 years no fewer than seventy-five thousand persons 
 declared their intention to lead better lives. There is 
 reason for confidence that a majority of these were 
 true to their resolutions. Surely, to have rescued 
 thousands of lives from beggary, vice and crime and 
 to have made them industrious and law-abiding mem- 
 bers of the community is such a service to the state as 
 not many other men have performed. To have saved a 
 large number of souls from death is, from the spiritual 
 point of view, a service of simply immeasureable 
 greatness. 
 
 " But that was by no means all. It was directly 
 through his influence that his brother became inter- 
 ested in Christian beneficence and became the leader 
 of a large mission and the founder of some forty 
 others ; that the three sons of that brother also entered 
 the same field of usefulness ; and that many other men 
 most of them converts in the Water Street Mission 
 became the heads of Christian and benevolent enter- 
 prises. Thus his influence was through all those years 
 not only widening in its own circle, but it was estab- 
 lishing other centres from each of which similarly 
 widening circles of good works proceeded, and each 
 of which in turn created yet other centres, and so 
 on. 
 
 :t The sum total of the good thus done by this one 
 devoted man is something that cannot be computed. 
 It would be impossible to reckon how much it has
 
 284 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 amounted to just to the present time. But now Had- 
 ley's work has only just begun. It ' will remain,' like 
 the unending stream of one of nature's forces. 
 
 " There are those who lament the decline of faith and 
 the decadence of the churches. What a tremendous 
 rebuke to such does the career of a man like Samuel 
 Hopkins Hadley present! For the main-spring and 
 motive of his life, its Alpha and Omega, was Chris- 
 tian faith ' the feeling that there's a God, He reigns 
 and rules.' A Methodist in technical church member- 
 ship, purely undenominational in his mission work, 
 he had the same faith that Bunyan, and Baxter, and 
 Wesley had, and that his own famous ancestor, Jona- 
 than Edwards, had. He had precisely that ' old-fash- 
 ioned religion ' that so many of our churches deplore 
 the decline of and fitfully seek to restore. He had it, 
 and the power of it worked in and through him as 
 surely, as unmistakably, and as effectually as ever it 
 did through any of the canonised spiritual leaders of 
 the past. And he himself would have been the most 
 earnest in denying, and denying truthfully, that he 
 was any rare or unique exception to the rule. What 
 he did others could do. The church or the minister 
 lamenting the unfruitfulness of its or his work should 
 regard this example, and learn from it that failure 
 to effect results comparable with Hadley 's simply 
 argues failure to cherish the faith that he cherished 
 and practised, to make the consecration of effort that 
 he made, and spend the love that he spent." 
 
 The New York Herald devoted an entire page of 
 the Sunday edition of the paper in which a tribute was 
 paid to Samuel Hopkins Hadley, who was spoken of
 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 285 
 
 as " The Foe of Iniquity." The reporter wrote as 
 follows : 
 
 " If there is joy in heaven over one sinner that re- 
 penteth and turns but himself from evil ways, how 
 much must there be when that one not alone sets forth 
 upon the straight and narrow path, but takes with him 
 legions of others, and that not by Scriptural exhorta- 
 tion or empty homilies on the abstract advantages of 
 virtue, but by practical help, by giving food to the 
 hungry and shelter to the homeless, whatever the de- 
 gree of their iniquity, by sacrifices, abnegation and 
 devotion. 
 
 " Some there were, perhaps, who knew that he was 
 superintendent of the old Jerry McAuley Mission at 
 No. 316 Water Street, but how many of these could 
 tell you even now exactly what that Mission is and 
 what was accomplished under his care and direction. 
 Fewer still, only a small band of those who had 
 watched and profited by his career, could tell you that 
 he was one of the most remarkable men of his time, 
 because he possessed not only those great qualities of 
 soul which marked his illustrious progenitor Jonathan 
 Edwards, but manifested them by deeds which, how- 
 ever mean or sordid they may seem in the recital, are 
 glorified and illumined in their meaning and their con- 
 summation. 
 
 " Not only himself, but fully seventy-five thousand 
 others, Hadley raised from the depths of sin and deg- 
 radation and set upon the ways of decency. But to 
 be understood the story must be told from his own be- 
 ginning. Born in Malta township, Morgan county, 
 Ohio, in 1842, he was not only a direct descendant of 
 the great Calvinistic preacher of Enfield, but his
 
 286 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 mother was the daughter of a clergyman and his 
 mother's brother also was a clergyman. His early 
 boyhood and young manhood were spent in a log house 
 built by his father, and his formal education was ac- 
 quired in about four months in a log schoolhouse. 
 
 " In his later days, speaking of his early home, he 
 used to say : ' It was the purest spot on earth. Never 
 did I hear an evil word spoken there, and no whiskey 
 or tobacco ever passed the sacred threshold of our 
 log cabin home. As early as I can remember I had 
 promised my mother that I would never drink, and I 
 kept this promise until my eighteenth year.' 
 
 " He drifted to New York in 1870 and obtained a 
 position with a salary of $300 a month and a liberal 
 allowance for expenses, but the failure of the es- 
 tablishment he was working for threw him out, and 
 never again was he able to command a good salary. 
 Downward he kept slipping, until he learned to 
 know the horrors of what he called a ' drunkard's 
 hell.' 
 
 " ' Talk about hell/ he said, long afterward, ' I tell 
 you I know what it is, and any man who has been 
 along that line knows that I tell the truth. The Bible 
 describes hell as the place where the rich man, being 
 in torment, lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham afar 
 off and Lazarus in his bosom. Then the rich man 
 begged for one drop of water to cool his parched 
 tongue, for he was tormented in this flame. 
 
 " ' My idea of hell, from the experience I have had, 
 is that it is a place shut off, where all hope is lost, 
 where purity and love are strangers, and anguish of 
 the most poignant kind has taken possession of the 
 soul. That was what I felt the night I fled from a
 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 287 
 
 saloon fled for my life to a police station and had 
 myself locked up. 
 
 1 ' Love is heaven and when love has fled from the 
 human heart then hell begins. I had lost my friends. 
 I could not get five cents without stealing it. Then 
 came delirium tremens, creeping stealthily upon me. 
 Demons of the mist in hideous forms danced before 
 my horrified gaze. I closed my eyes, but I could not 
 shut them out. They danced closer and closer, until 
 their scorching breath burned me. Serpents twined 
 about my throat, choking me, and on all sides I heard 
 sneering, mocking voices plotting my ruin. Then a 
 lower voice came, whispering with shrill distinctness : 
 "Kill yourself! You have played for this for years. 
 You are mine now. Kill yourself ! " 
 
 " How that night passed, he said, he never could tell, 
 but in the morning he went to the home of his brother, 
 Colonel H. H. Hadley, who afterwards founded the 
 Church Army of the Protestant Episcopal Church. 
 On the following Sunday evening he went to the Jerry 
 McAuley Cremorne Mission, in West Thirty-second 
 Street, and put himself in the hands of McAuley, who 
 had been a river thief. He asked Jerry to pray for 
 him, but the reply was : ' All the prayers in the world 
 won't save you unless you pray for yourself.' 
 
 " Later, in his brother's home, he felt that the help 
 which he had craved had been given and he believed 
 that he had been converted. From that time he at- 
 tended the services with such regularity that he was 
 virtually an inmate of the place, and, finally, four 
 years later, in 1886, the trustees of the Mission asked 
 him to become its superintendent. He did so, and 
 remained there the rest of his life, with no other
 
 288 S. H. HADLEY OF WATER STREET 
 
 devotion, as he expressed it, than to be ' the friend 
 of the down and outs.' 
 
 " ' More thieves and drunkards,' he used to say, 
 ' have crossed the threshold of the Mission than any 
 other spot in the city except the Tombs prison. Water 
 Street is a place where drunken men are more welcome 
 than the sober, the thief more welcome than the honest 
 man, the fallen woman more welcome than the virtu- 
 ous one. If a man comes to our Mission without 
 shoes we give him a pair. That is the policy of our 
 Mission. 
 
 " Those were the principles upon which this remark- 
 able man conducted the old Mission down in the 
 slums under Brooklyn Bridge. The entire work of 
 the place was carried on by the converts, men who had 
 once been highway robbers, tramps, and drunkards. 
 Absolutely undenominational, Jew and Gentile, Cath- 
 olic as well as Protestant, were welcome to its bene- 
 fits. There is love enough for all, was Hadley's 
 doctrine, and if a man who is ' down and out,' only 
 shows a true desire to be ' up and in,' the workers 
 are well rewarded, and he may choose for himself 
 the Church agency which he thinks will be most satis- 
 fying and supporting to his new desires. 
 
 " In the years of service in Water Street not less 
 than seventy-five thousand persons have announced 
 their intention to live better lives. Not all of these 
 have stood firm in the new faith, of course, but it is 
 safe to say that the percentage has been as large as, if 
 not larger than, would be the case following an 
 ordinary revival. Men of all nations and of all pro- 
 fessions and trades have begun there life anew. One 
 of the wealthiest citizens of Australia, who is at the
 
 NEWSPAPER COMMENT 289 
 
 head of a great system of rescue work in Australia 
 and New Zealand, calls the Water Street Mission his 
 ' mother church.' Dr. John H. Kellogg, head of the 
 Chicago Lifeboat Mission and other rescue agencies, 
 refers to it as ' my inspiration/ and only recently the 
 vice-president of one of the great railroads in the 
 South, recalled that there was a time when he had 
 been one of Hadley's ' bums.' "
 
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