GLASGOW EXPERIENCES.
ON one occasion, it becoming known that we had arranged for a special
Saturday afternoon Temperance demonstration, a deputation of Publicans
complained beforehand to the Captain of the Police--that our meetings
were interfering with their legitimate trade. The Captain, a pious
Wesleyan, who was in full sympathy with us and our work, informed me of
the complaints made, and intimated that his men would be present; but I
was just to conduct the meeting as usual, and he would guarantee that
strict justice would be done. The Publicans having announced amongst
their sympathizers that the Police were to break up and prevent our
meeting and take the conductors in charge, a very large crowd assembled,
both friendly and unfriendly, for the Publicans and their hangers-on
were there "to see the fun," and to help in "baiting" the Missionary.
Punctually, I ascended the stone stair, accompanied by another
Missionary who was also to deliver an address, and announced our opening
hymn. As we sang, a company of Police appeared, and were quietly located
here and there among the crowd, the sergeant himself taking his post
close by the platform, whence the whole assembly could be scanned. Our
enemies were jubilant, and signals were passed betwixt them and their
friends, as if the time had come to provoke a row. Before the hymn was
finished, Captain Baker himself, to the infinite surprise of friend and
foe alike, joined us on the platform, devoutly listened to all that was
said, and waited till the close. The Publicans could not for very shame
leave, while he was there at their suggestion and request, though they
had wit enough to perceive that his presence had frustrated all their
sinister plans. They had to hear our addresses and prayers and hymns;
they had to listen to the intimation of our future meetings. When all
had quietly dispersed, the Captain warmly congratulated us on our large
and well-conducted congregation, and hoped that great good would result
from our efforts. This opposition also the Lord overruled to increase
our influence, and to give point and publicity to our assaults upon the
kingdom of Satan.
Though Intemperance was the main cause of poverty, suffering, misery,
and vice in that district of Glasgow, I had also considerable opposition
from Romanists and Infidels, many of whom met in clubs, where they drank
together, and gloried in their wickedness and in leading other young men
astray.
An Infidel, whose wife was a Roman Catholic, became unwell, and
gradually sank under great suffering and agony. His blasphemies against
God were known and shuddered at by all the neighbors. His wife pled with
me to visit him. She refused, at my suggestion, to call her own priest,
so I accompanied her at last. The man refused to hear one word about
spiritual things, and foamed with rage. He even spat at me, I mentioned
the name of Jesus. "The natural receiveth not the things of the Spirit
of God; for they are foolishness unto him!" There is a "wisdom" which is
at best earthly, and _at worst_ "sensual and devilish." I visited the
poor man daily, but his enmity to God and his sufferings together seemed
to drive him mad. Towards the end I pleaded with him even then to look
to the Lord Jesus, and asked if I might pray with him? With all his
remaining strength he shouted at me, "Pray for me to the devil!"
Reminding him how he had always denied that there was any devil, I
suggested that he must surely believe in one now, else he would scarcely
make such a request, even in mockery. In great rage he cried, "Tes, I
believe there is a devil, and a God, and a just God too; but I have
hated Him in life, and I hate Him in death!" With these awful words he
wriggled into Eternity; but his shocking death produced a very serious
impression for good, especially amongst young men, in the district where
his character was known.
How different was the case of that Doctor who also had been an
unbeliever as well as a drunkard! Highly educated, skilful, and gifted
above most in his profession, he was taken into consultation for
specially dangerous cases, whenever they could find him tolerably sober.
After one of his excessive "bouts" he had a dreadful attack of _delirium
tremens_. At one time wife and watchers had a fierce struggle to dash
from his lips a draught of prussic acid; at another, they detected the
silver-hafted lancet concealed in the band of his shirt, as he lay down,
to bleed himself to death. His aunt came and pleaded with me to visit
him. My heart bled for his poor young wife and two beautiful little
children. Visiting him twice daily, and sometimes even more frequently,
I found the way somehow into his heart, and he would do almost anything
for me and longed for my visits. When again the fit of self-destruction
seized him, they sent for me; he held out his hand eagerly, and grasping
mine said, "Put all these people out of the room, remain you with me; I
will be quiet, I will do everything you ask!"
I got them all to leave, but whispered to one in passing to "keep near
the door."
Alone I sat beside him, my hand in his, and kept up a quiet conversation
for several hours. After we had talked of everything that I could think
of, and it was now far into the morning, I said, "If you had a Bible
here, we might read a chapter, verse about."
He said dreamily, "There was once a Bible above yon press; if you can
get up to it, you might find it there yet."
Getting it, dusting it, and laying it on a small table which I drew near
to the sofa on which we sat, we read there and then a chapter together.
After this I said; "Now, shall we pray?"
He replied heartily, "Yes."
I having removed the little table, we kneeled down together at the sofa;
and after a solemn pause I whispered, "You pray first."
He replied, "I curse, I cannot pray; would you have me curse God to His
face?"
I answered, "You promised to do all that I asked; you must pray, or try
to pray, and let me hear that you cannot."
He said, "I cannot curse God on my knees; let me stand, and I will curse
Him; I cannot pray."
I gently held him on his knees, saying, "Just try to pray, and let me
hear you cannot."
Instantly he cried out, "O Lord, Thou knowest I cannot pray," and was
going to say something dreadful as he strove to rise up. But I took up
gently the words he had uttered as if they had been my own and continued
the prayer, pleading for him and his dear ones as we knelt there
together, till he showed that he was completely subdued and lying low at
the feet of God. On rising from our knees he was manifestly greatly
impressed, and I said, "Now, as I must be at College by daybreak and
must return to my lodging for my books and an hour's rest, will do you
one thing more for me before I go?"
"Yes," was his reply.
"Then," said I, "it is long since you had a refreshing sleep: now, will
you lie down, and I will sit by you till you fall asleep?"
He lay down, and was soon fast asleep. After commending him to the care
and blessing of the Lord, I quietly slipped out, and his wife returned
to watch by his side. When I came back later in the day, after my
Classes were over, he, on hearing my foot and voice, came to meet me,
and clasping me in his arms, cried, "Thank God, I can pray now! I rose
this morning refreshed from sleep, and prayed with my wife and children
for the first time in my life; and now I shall do so every day, and
serve God while I live, who hath dealt in so great mercy with me!"
After delightful conversation, he promised to go with me to Dr.
Symington's church on Sabbath Day; there he took sittings beside me; at
next half-yearly Communion he and his wife were received into
membership, and their children were baptized; and from that day till his
death he led a devoted and most useful Christian life. He now sleeps in
Jesus; and I do believe I shall meet him in Glory as a trophy of
redeeming grace and love!
In my Mission district I was the witness of many joyful departures to be
with Jesus,--I do not like to name them "deaths" at all. They left us
rejoicing in the bright assurance that nothing present or to come "could
ever separate them or us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus
our Lord." Many examples might be given; but I can find room for only
one. John Sim, a dear little boy, was carried away by consumption. His
child-heart seemed to be filled with joy about seeing Jesus. His simple
prattle, mingled with deep questionings, arrested not only his young
companions, but pierced the hearts of some careless sinners who heard
him, and greatly refreshed the faith of God's dear people. It was the
very pathos of song incarnated to hear the weak quaver of his dying
voice sing out--
"I lay my sins on Jesus, The spotless Lamb of God."
Shortly before his decease he said to his parents, "I am going soon to
be with Jesus; but I sometimes fear that I may not see you there."
"Why so, my child?" said his weeping mother.
"Because," he answered, "if you were set upon going to Heaven and seeing
Jesus there, you would pray about it, and sing about it; you would talk
about Jesus to others, and tell them of that happy meeting with Him in
Glory. All this my dear Sabbath School teacher taught me, and she will
meet me there. Now why did not you, my father and mother, tell me all
these things about Jesus, if you are going to meet Him too?" Their tears
fell fast over their dying child; and he little knew, in his unthinking
eighth year, what a message from God had pierced their souls through his
innocent words.
One day an aunt from the country visited his mother, and their talk had
run in channels for which the child no longer felt any interest. On my
sitting down beside him, he said, "Sit you down and talk with me about
Jesus; I am tired hearing so much talk about everything else but Jesus;
I am going soon to be with Him. Oh, do tell me everything you know or
have ever heard about Jesus, the spotless Lamb of God!"
At last the child literally longed to be away, not for rest, or freedom
from pain--for of that he had very little--but, as he himself always put
it, "to see Jesus." And, after all, that was the wisdom of the heart,
however he learned it. Eternal life, here or hereafter, is just the
vision of Jesus.