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What a rich and
ever-accumulating treasure of facts, exemplifying the providence of God
towards His chosen children, is inherited by the Church ! Every one who
contributes to the treasury is a benefactor to his brethren. In the course
of a lengthened and extensive ministry, it has been my privilege to
witness many such facts. Let me chronicle one or two of them in a
periodical with the tone of which they will so happily harmonise, and
through the medium of which they will be so widely circulated.
Not long after my
ordination, whilst labouring in Yorkshire, I became acquainted with
Rebecca L------. She was a very poor woman, grossly ignorant, living in
utter neglect of all religious observances, and dragging on life in
deepest want and woe, owing to the drunkenness of her husband, and the
insanity of her eldest son. A poor neighbour, an excellent woman, induced
her, one Sunday afternoon, to accompany her to the church where I
ministered. My subject on that occasion was, "To the poor the gospel is
preached." It pleased God that His Holy Spirit should bring home the
message of life to her heart. Thenceforward she never was missing in the
sanctuary. After a season of sore conviction and conflict, her Saviour
revealed Himself to her in all the fulness of His grace, giving her
"beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise
for the spirit of heaviness." She survived the blessed change for about
thirty-five years; she walked in "the beauty of holiness;" "her peace was
like a river," and her last end lighted up with glory.
About a year after her
conversion, calling upon her one afternoon, she burst into tears on seeing
me. And when I asked her anxiously what had occasioned her agitation, it
was long before she could recover herself sufficiently to answer. At
length she said, ''Oh, sir, God only knows what I have felt to-day! I have
been filled with shame, and wonder, and praise. This day seven years ago I
was at the lowest point of want and wretchedness. My husband was never
sober, and my poor son was very outrageous; and he and I were almost
starving, for we had not a morsel nor a farthing in the house. About two
o'clock in the afternoon I could stand it no longer; a great darkness came
over me, and seizing a knife which lay on the table, I sharpened it on a
stone, bolted the door, went up stairs, lay down upon my bed, and grasped
the knife to cut my throat. A minute or two more and I should have been
lost for ever. But just as I was going to draw the knife across my neck
there was a loud rapping at the door. I thought I would make haste and not
be interrupted. The knocking, however, was so alarming, that at last I
rose, went down, and unbolted the door.
Before it stood Miss
G------, who said, 'I am in a great hurry, Rebecca; but here are five
shillings for you, which we got for some things we made to sell for your
relief, as we thought you must be very badly off.' I took the money with
tears, and the wish to make away with myself left me. And now, sir, to
think that a poor wretch, who was on the door-step of hell, should be a
brand plucked out of the fire, should be rejoicing in the Lord! Oh, what
can I do for Him who has done it all for me!"
Such was the touching tale
told me by Rebecca. It needs no remark. It makes bare the gracious hand of
God. An angel sent to rescue could not have made it more plain.
Having adduced a wondrous
instance of the interposition of God on behalf of one who was subsequently
to be His child, let me now sketch an exemplification of the same gracious
Providence, in the case of one of the Lord's dear children—an intervention
less marvellous, but not a whit less manifest than the former. Some time
after entering upon my present sphere of labour, I was requested to visit
a suffering man. His name was William C------. I found him in a cellar—a
dark, dirty, desolate cellar—stretched on straw; a wife and child, looking
half-starved, were crouching before a scanty fire, whilst the man himself
was groaning in sore agony. He had for many years been a seaman in the
royal navy, a drunken, profane, profligate man. He was obliged to quit the
service in consequence of a complication of rheumatism and scurvy, which
brought him to the brink of the grave. It has seldom fallen to my lot to
find a sinner more hardened and blind than he was in the first instance,
or more gloriously changed than he became in after years. Slowly, very
slowly, but most effectually, did the Holy Spirit work in him, till he
became a model of consistency, a pattern of holy cheerfulness, mighty in
the Scriptures, and full of faith and love. His wife became partaker of
the same grace, and still survives, a simple, lowly, loving disciple. All
things were changed with them. Their cellar became clean, their
countenances radiant, and their whole conversation such as became the
gospel of Christ. After a time, the man was able for some years to crawl
about; and how often have I delighted to see him bending low in my church,
and kneeling at the table of communion! Accustomed to. patch his clothes
when a sailor, he became a rough kind of jobbing tailor, and thus to a
great extent supported himself and family. Sometimes, however, he was
reduced to sad straits, yet would never disclose his distress, so
contented and trustful was he. On one occasion, as he afterwards told me,
he was brought into such extremity that for twenty-four hours he and his
wife and child were wholly without food. The second evening was far
advanced, and no relief had come. The child, from her little bed, was
crying out for food. The poor wife, weaker in faith than her husband,
could refrain no longer, and bursting into a paroxysm of grief, exclaimed,
"What are we to do! we shall all be clemmed!" [An expressive Lancashire
word, signifying starved..] "Hold thy peace," he said; "kneel down, and we
will tell it all to God." She fell on her knees, and he poured out his
heart in artless accents to Him who feedeth the young ravens. In the midst
of his prayer, a loud rapping at the door interrupted them. On its being
opened, a livery servant, carrying a large loaf under his arm, asked if
such a family dwelt here; and on their replying in the negative, he said,
''My mistress sent me with this loaf for them. I have searched for them
till I am tired; let me leave the loaf on your table till I go and tell
them at home." He put it down. There stood the loaf. The wife and child
were bent on attacking it at once. But "No," said the good man; "it's not
ours." In about ten minutes, however, the servant returned, and said, "My
mistress bade me say, that as you seemed very poor, you might keep the
loaf." "There," exclaimed William, "I told thee the Lord would see to us
!" And having poured out their hearts in praise, they all made a hearty
supper.
Was the hand of the Lord
more clearly seen when the ravens brought the prophet his daily bread of
old, than it was displayed in thus supplying the wants of this praying
family? "Oh that men would therefore praise the Lord for His goodness, and
for the wonders He doeth for the children of men!" |
