Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration]
THE STORY
OF
Mary Jones and Her Bible.
_BY MISS MARY EMILY ROPES._
NEW EDITION.
[Illustration]
_CHRISTIAN WITNESS COMPANY_
151 WASHINGTON STREET, CHICAGO. ILL.
COPYRIGHT, 1892
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY
PREFATORY NOTE.
THE narrative which follows has been carefully founded upon facts
obtained from the most trustworthy material—written and verbal—at the
disposal of the writer. Since its publication in 1882 the little book
has been extremely popular: versions in various languages have been
issued, and an American edition has been prepared. It need only be
added that the text of this edition has been read by the accomplished
authoress, that some statistical information has been added, and that a
considerable number of the illustrations are new.
INTRODUCTION.
BY REV. EDWARD W. GILMAN, D. D.,
SECRETARY OF THE AMERICAN BIBLE SOCIETY.
[Illustration]
NOT a long story this, but one full of pathos, of a little girl in
North Wales, a hundred years ago, who hoarded her pennies for six long
years that she might save enough to buy a Bible, and who then walked
twenty-five miles, from Llanfihangel to Bala, in her bare feet, to
procure the treasure which she had so long desired to own. We mark the
record of her desire and faith: "Oh if I had but a Bible of my own!"
"I must have a Bible of my own, if I save up for it for ten years."
"I shall never rest until I have a Bible of my own." "Though I have
waited so long, the time will come when I shall have my Bible." "Dear
Lord, let the time come quickly." The fulfilment of her cherished wish
rounds out the record of a personal incident and leads us to share the
maiden's joy that at last she became the owner of a Bible in her own
tongue.
But the pathos of the story is less important than its connection with
a great movement which has to do with the enlightenment and welfare of
all nations in all coming time.
"Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth." It may be only a
spark, but in one moment it becomes a blaze, and if rightly used, its
radiance and warmth yield a perpetual blessing. Mary Jones could not
prepare her weekly lesson for the Sunday school because in her father's
house there was neither Bible nor Testament. Every Saturday she walked
to a farm-house two miles away, because there only could she see a copy
of the sacred volume. Her parents were poor weavers, but even if they
had been well-to-do, Bibles in Welsh were not only costly, but rare,
and no one had yet conceived the idea of making the book so portable
and so cheap that a copy of God's Word might be found in every dwelling.
But when the story of Mary Jones became known through the Rev.
Mr. Charles, of Bala, who supplied her need, when it suggested to
God-fearing men the possible condition of thousands of youth in other
cottages in Wales, when it revealed to lovers of the Bible the intense
desire for the book felt by those who had never had it in their homes,
Christian sympathy was bound to make some response. Something must
be done. What could be done? Might not some association be formed to
print and distribute the Scriptures in Wales? "And if for Wales," said
the Rev. John Hughes, one of the Secretaries of the Religious Tract
Society, "why not for the world?"
The problem was solved; and so out of the needs and savings and prayers
of Mary Jones came in 1804 the British and Foreign Bible Society, an
organization catholic in its membership, based on reverence and love
for the Holy Scriptures, considerate of the wants of the humble and
needy, concentrating its efforts on one definite object, and with a
wide and far-reaching enthusiasm for the human race extending its
beneficence to all nations, whether Christian, Mohammedan, or pagan. No
wonder that the Committee of the Society cherish among their archives
the identical Bible which Mary Jones bought in 1800, with her autograph
attesting the fact of its purchase when she was sixteen years old.
The key-note of this first movement to supply the world with the Holy
Scriptures was sympathy "with the cry that was ascending all over Wales
for the Word of God;" but mingled with this tender regard for those who
craved the book must have been pity for those who had never even heard
of it, and a desire to share with them the blessings which the Bible
brings to mankind.
A few years ago a little boy in Connecticut, seven years of age, was
sick and nigh to death. He belonged to a "Sunbeam Circle," and had
his "mission box" in which his little contributions were treasured up
for the foreign field. At his request his mother opened the box that
he might see how much there was for "the poor heathen children," and
noticing a piece of newspaper among the pennies, she asked, "Why,
Miller, what is this? You don't want this in." "Oh yes, I do, mamma.
They are beautiful verses about God, and I want the heathen to have
them too; I know they will like them." "The Scriptures principally
teach what man is to believe concerning God and what duty God requires
of man;" and why shouldn't the heathen have them too? If for Wales, why
not for the whole world? It is interesting to note that in after years
Mary Jones was a constant contributor to the British Bible Society,
practising through life the self-denial she had learned in her youth,
and that on one occasion when a collection was made at Bryncrug for the
"China Million Testament Fund," a gold piece neatly wrapped up between
half-pence, and thus hidden until the money came to be counted, was
her expression of sympathy for the poor heathen. Mary was fortunate in
securing one copy of ten thousand which were printed in Oxford in 1799,
for they were all disposed of before one quarter of the country was
supplied. Since then the British Bible Society has printed more than
two and a half millions of volumes of Scripture for Wales alone, and
about fifty times as many for the world besides.
If a union of Churchmen and Dissenters in one society was a good
thing in England, why not in other parts of the world? The idea met
with favor in Europe and led to the formation of Bible Societies in
Germany, Prussia, and France; but nowhere was it taken up with greater
promptness and ardor than in America. British laws had denied to the
colonies the privilege of printing the Bible, so that when Mary Jones
was born, in 1784, one edition, and one only, of the authorized version
had ever been printed on this side of the Atlantic. When we consider
that the colonists were thus dependent on the king's printers for their
supplies, that the Revolutionary War had for a long time caused a
suspension of traffic, and that the country lacked facilities for the
production of large editions of the Bible, we can readily believe that
the experience of Mary Jones was often repeated here, especially in the
new settlements which were being made in the interior.
The necessities of our land were as urgent as those of Wales, and
following the example of England, local Bible Societies in great
numbers began to be formed. Philadelphia took the lead in 1808, and was
soon followed by Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, and New Jersey.
Societies were organized as far south as Charleston, Beaufort, and
Savannah. Such men as Jedediah Morse of Charleston and Elias Boudinot
of New Jersey were earnest promoters of the movement. The interest of
these societies was enlisted in efforts to reach the inhabitants of
the great valley of the Mississippi. In 1812 Samuel J. Mills travelled
from Boston to Pittsburgh, and from there to New Orleans, exploring
the country on both sides of the Ohio and the Mississippi and noting
the needs and opportunities of the field. Again he went over the same
route, distributing Bibles and tracts.
A region so extended was too vast for the local societies, and to
promote harmony, efficiency, and economy they united, in 1816, to form
the American Bible Society. It was patterned after that in London,
on the same broad, catholic principle, with the same avowed object,
with the same world-wide aim. Responsible for a territory vastly more
extended than Great Britain, it pledged itself from the first to extend
its influence as far as possible to other lands, Christian, Mohammedan,
and pagan. Among its earliest publications were Scriptures for the
Indians of North America and the Spaniards of South America and Mexico.
It has enrolled thousands of auxiliary societies, and with their aid
has carried through four general efforts to visit every family in the
United States with the offer of the Holy Scriptures. As the nation
has acquired new territory in the South and West it has pushed on to
provide the Scriptures for the people of Texas and the great States
of the interior and the Pacific. In nominally Christian lands it has
been a pioneer of missions, preparing the way by the distribution of
the Scriptures for the founding of churches and the establishment of
evangelical institutions. As American missionaries have made their way
to pagan nations, reducing rude languages to writing and enriching them
with new versions of the Bible, it has stood by their side, giving
liberally to make their work effective and circulate the printed book.
Its Arabic Bible, in the sacred language of a hundred and twenty
millions of men, has found circulation in regions as remote as Western
Africa and the eastern shores of China. It has its agents resident
in the Turkish Empire, in Persia, China, and Japan, in Mexico and
Cuba and the various republics of South America, and under their care
more than three hundred colporteurs devote their lives to the work of
distributing the printed Bible.
Confidently relying on the providence of God, sustained by
contributions and legacies and prayers, aided by the willing
cooperation of unpaid workers, joining hand in hand with other
Societies that look for the evangelization of the world, considerate
always for the oppressed and ignorant, the needy and the blind, the
prisoner and the immigrant, the mariner and the soldier, the American
Bible Society seeks to hasten the time when the open Book shall be
found in every household in the land and in the world, and all men
shall rejoice in the glad tidings which it brings. And its friends may
well join with their brethren in Great Britain in honoring the memory
of the humble Welsh maiden whose quenchless love for God's Word was so
helpful at the outset of these heaven-blessed charities.
PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL
EDITION.
THIS little book tells how one of the least of seeds has grown to be
greatest of trees. It was the earnest desire of the late Mr. William
Coles, of Dorking, who was through life a warm and liberal friend of
the British and Foreign Bible Society, to learn all he could about its
birth. At his suggestion the trustees of the College at Bala generously
presented Mary Jones's Bible to the Library of the Bible House in
London, where it may now be seen. He was very anxious that the story
should be re-told in a way likely to interest the young; and though he
did not live to see this volume published, he did from his deathbed see
and approve the draft submitted to him. A few days before his death he
wrote as follows: "The sketch came to me as a glorious finish to my
aspirations. I may never see the book, but from the bright Happy Land—I
shall be with Christ and know all."
It must not be forgotten that others besides Mr. Charles helped to
found the Bible Society. The Rev. Thomas Jones, curate of Creaton,
deserves specially to be mentioned. He was the "clergyman in Wales"
who is referred to in Owen's "History of the Society" (vol. i. p. 3),
as having interested himself for more than twelve years in calling
attention to the dearth of the Word of God in Wales. Let due honour be
done to him, and to others like him; but, above all, let Him be praised
who disposed His servants to establish an organization for distributing
the bread of life to the hungry multitudes of mankind.
THE BIBLE HOUSE,
_1st December,_ 1882.
CONTENTS.
CHAP.
I.—AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN
II.—THE ONE GREAT NEED
III.—COMING TO THE LIGHT
IV.—TWO MILES TO A BIBLE
V.—FAITHFUL IN THAT WHICH IS LEAST
VI.—ON THE WAY
VII.—TEARS THAT PREVAIL
VIII.—THE WORK BEGUN
IX.—YOUTHFUL PROMISE FULFILLED
X.—HER WORKS DO FOLLOW HER
THE STORY OF MARY JONES
AND HER BIBLE.
[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF CADER IDRIS.]
CHAPTER I.
AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN.
O Shepherd of all the flock of God,
Watch over Thy lambs and feed them;
For Thou alone, through the rugged paths,
In the way of life canst lead them.
IT would be hard to find a lovelier, more picturesque spot than the
valley on the south-west side of Cader Idris, where nestles the little
village of Llanfihangel-y-Pennant. Above it towers the majestic
mountain with its dark crags, its rocky precipices, and its steep
ascents; while stretching away in the distance to the westward, lie
the bold shore and glistening waters of Cardigan Bay, where the white
breakers come rolling in and dash into foam, only to gather afresh, and
return undaunted to the charge.
The mountain, and the outline of the bay, and the wonderful
picturesqueness of the valley, are still much as they were a hundred
years ago. Still the eye of the traveller gazes in wonder at their wild
beauty, as other eyes of other travellers did in times gone by. But
while Nature's great landmarks remain, or undergo a change so gradual
as to be almost imperceptible, man, the tenant of God's earth, is born,
lives his brief life, and passes away, leaving only too often hardly
even a memory behind him.
And now as, in thought, we stand upon the lower slopes of Cader Idris,
and look across the little village of Llanfihangel, we find ourselves
wondering what kind of people have occupied those rude grey cottages
for the last century; what were their simple histories, what their
habits, their toils and struggles, sorrows and pleasures.
To those then who share our interest in the place and neighbourhood,
and in events connected with them, we would tell the simple tale which
gives Llanfihangel a place among the justly celebrated and honoured
spots of our beloved country; since from its soil sprang a shoot which,
growing apace, soon spread forth great branches throughout the earth,
becoming indeed a tree of life, whose leaves are for the healing of the
nations.
In the year 1792, nearly a hundred years ago, the night shadows had
fallen around the little village of Llanfihangel. The season was late
autumn, and a cold wind was moaning and sighing among the trees,
stripping them of their changed garments, lately so green and gay,
whirling them round in eddies and laying them in shivering heaps along
the narrow valley.
Wan and watery, the moon, encompassed by peaked masses of cloud that
looked like another ghostly Cader Idris in the sky, had risen, and now
cast a faint light across a line of jutting crags, bringing into relief
their sharp ragged edges against the dark background of rolling vapour.
In pleasant contrast to the night with its threatening gloom, a warm
light shone through the windows of one of the cottages that formed the
village. The light was caused by the blaze of a fire of dried driftwood
on the stone hearth, while in a rude wooden stand a rushlight burned,
throwing its somewhat uncertain brightness upon a loom where sat a
weaver at work. A bench, two or three stools, a rude cupboard, and a
kitchen-table—these, with the loom, were all the furniture.
[Illustration: A WELSH COTTAGE.]
Standing in the centre of the room was a middle-aged woman, dressed in
a cloak and the tall conical Welsh hat worn by many of the peasants to
this day.
"I am sorry you cannot go, Jacob," said she. "You'll be missed at the
meeting. But the same Lord Almighty who gives us the meetings for the
good of our souls, sent you that wheezing of the chest, for the trying
of your body and spirit, and we must needs have patience till He sees
fit to take it away again."
"Yes, wife, and I'm thankful that I needn't sit idle, but can still ply
my trade," replied Jacob Jones. "There's many a deal worse off. But
what are you waiting for, Molly? You'll be late for the exercises; it
must be gone six o'clock."
"I'm waiting for that child, and she's gone for the lantern," responded
Mary Jones, whom her husband generally called Molly, to distinguish her
from their daughter who was also Mary.
Jacob smiled. "The lantern! Yes," said he; "you'll need it this dark
night. 'Twas a good thought of yours, wife, to let Mary take it regular
as you do, for the child wouldn't be allowed to attend those meetings
otherwise. And she does seem so eager after everything of the kind."
"Yes, she knows already pretty nearly all that you and I can teach her
of the Bible, as we learnt it, don't she, Jacob? She's only eight now,
but I remember when she was but a wee child she would sit on your knee
for hours on a Sunday, and hear tell of Abraham and Joseph, and David
and Daniel. There never was a girl like our Mary for Bible stories, or
any stories, for the matter of that, bless her! But here she is! You've
been a long time getting that lantern, child, and we must hurry or we
shall be late."
Little Mary raised a pair of bright dark eyes to her mother's face.
"Yes, mother," she replied, "I was long because I ran to borrow
neighbour Williams's lantern. The latch of ours won't hold, and there's
such a wind to-night, that I knew we should have the light blown out."
"There's a moon," said Mrs. Jones, "and I could have done without a
lantern."
"Yes, but then you know, mother, I should have had to stay at home,"
responded Mary, "and I do so love to go."
"You needn't tell me that, child," laughed Molly. "Then come along,
Mary; good-bye, Jacob."
"Good-bye, father dear! I wish you could come too!" cried Mary, running
back to give Jacob a last kiss.
"Go your way, child, and mind you remember all you can to tell old
father when you come home."
Then the cottage door opened, and Mary and her mother sallied out into
the cold windy night.
The moon had disappeared now behind a thick dark cloud, and little
Mary's borrowed lantern was very acceptable. Carefully she held it,
so that the light fell upon the way they had to traverse, a way which
would have been difficult if not dangerous, without its friendly aid.
"'Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path,'" said
Mrs. Jones, as she took her little daughter's hand in hers.
"Yes, mother, I was just thinking of that," replied the child. "I wish
I knew ever so many verses like this one."
"How glad I should be if your father and I could teach you more; but
it's years since we learned, and we've got no Bible, and our memories
are not as good as they used to be," sighed the mother.
A walk of some length, and over a rough road, brought them at last to
the little meeting-house where the church members belonging to the
Methodist body were in the habit of attending.
They were rather late, and the exercises had begun, but kind farmer
Evans made room for them on his bench, and found for Mrs. Jones the
place in the psalm-book from which the little company had been singing.
Mary was the only child there, but her face was so grave, and her
manner so solemn and reverent, that no one looking at her could have
felt that she was out of place; and the church members who met there
from time to time, had come to look upon this little girl as one of
their number, and welcomed her accordingly.
When the meeting was over, and Mary, having relighted her lantern, was
ready to accompany her mother home, farmer Evans put his great broad
hand upon the child's shoulder, saying:
"Well, my little maid! You're rather young for these meetings, but the
Lord has need of lambs as well as sheep, and He is well pleased when
the lambs learn to hear His voice early, even in their tender years."
Then with a gentle fatherly caress the good old man released the child,
and turned away, carrying with him the remembrance of that earnest
intelligent face, happy in its intentness, joyful in its solemnity,
having in its expression a promise of future excellence and power for
good.
"Why haven't we a Bible of our own, mother?" asked Mary as she trotted
homeward, lantern in hand.
"Because Bibles are scarce, child, and we're too poor to pay the price
of one. A weaver's is an honest trade, Mary, but we don't get rich
by it, and we think ourselves happy if we can keep the wolf from the
door, and have clothes to cover us. Still, precious as the Word of God
would be in our hands, more precious are its teachings and its truths
in our hearts. I tell you, my little girl, they who have learned the
love of God, have learned the greatest truth that even the Bible can
teach them; and those who are trusting the Saviour for their pardon and
peace, and for eternal life at last, can wait patiently for a fuller
knowledge of His word and will."
"I suppose you can wait, mother, because you've waited so long that
you're used to it," replied the child; "but it's harder for me. Every
time I hear something read out of the Bible, I long to hear more, and
when I can read it will be harder still."
Mrs. Jones was about to answer, when she stumbled over a stone, and
fell, though fortunately without hurting herself. Mary's thoughts were
so full of what she had been saying, that she had become careless in
the management of the lantern, and her mother not seeing the stone, had
struck her foot against it.
"Ah, child! It's the present duties after all that we must look after
most," said Molly, as she got slowly up; "and even a fall may teach us
a lesson, Mary. The very Word of God itself, which is a lamp to our
feet, and a light to our path, can't save us from many a tumble if we
don't use it aright, and let the light shine on our daily life, helping
us in its smallest duties and cares. Remember this, my little Mary."
And little Mary did remember this, and her after life proved that she
had taken the lesson to heart—a simple lesson, taught by a simple,
unlearned handmaid of the Lord, but a lesson which the child treasured
up in her very heart of hearts.
[Illustration: Chained Bibles.]