English hearts and English hands; or, The railway and the trenches

LIRRARY

OF THK

University of California.

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ENGLISH HEARTS
AND ENGLISH HANDS.

[UII7BRSITT]

Bnglkh Hearts.

VRONTISriECK.

ENGLISH HEARTS
AND ENGLISH HANDS ;

OB,

TilE EAILWAT AND THE TKENCHES.

BT THE AUTHOB OF THB

"MEMORIALS OF CAPTAIN HEDLEY VICARS."

^ 111 iSS CcvUV^i^rM^ '\X[cLh.lk'\

Love found me in the wilderness, at cost
Of painful quests, when I myself had loafc.

Love on its shoulders joyfully did lay
Me, weary with the greatness of ray way.

Love lit the lamp, and swept the house all round.
Till the lost money in the end was found.

Love the king's image there would stamp again.
Effaced in part, an I soil'd with i-ust aud stain.

Twas Love whose quick and ever-watchful eye
The wand'rer's first step homeward did espy.

}m its own wardrobe Love gave word to bring
I needed — shoes. ai.d robe, and ring.

.r.-'^ Ot THB ^

ftjiitibsiit;

ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,

No. 530 BROADWAY.
1860.

75 y^ ^ / 6

c-c

^zd

PREFACE.

It is but a few summers since the sun shone upon the
w(X)dy heights of the Sydenham and Norwood hills,
and now his rays may be seen gleaming from the
crystal roof of that vast temple to the arts of peace,
which has suddenly displaced the oaks and elms of the
green woodland.

Whose were the hands that reared that colossal
building? Its massive iron pillars, its huge girders,
the ponderous supports of its complicated roofing, all
tell us that it was the work of some of the hardiest
and strongest of Britain's sons. But while those who
survey the stores vrith which the wide structure is
enriched, may perchance give a passing thought to the
strength of frame and mechanical skill of the workmen
who so speedily accomplished the setting up of such a
fabric, it was the privilege of a few, whose dwelling
had, in the providence of God, been fixed near Its site,
at the time of its constmction, to become acquainted
with a large proportion of the labourers, and to form
and cultivate a trleTidship with them based upon the

VI PREFACE.

firm foundation of '^ tlie hidden man of the heart in
that which is not corruptible."

When the author of these pages first began to speak
to the earliest groups of stragglers who came to seek a
labouring man's lodging in Beckenham, it was little
thought whereunto this would grow. It was little
expected that two or three hundred navvies could take
up their abode in a country village for two winters,
and, instead of spreading moral contagion, set a good
example to many of its inhabitants. It was little sup-
posed that memory would be crowded, as it is, with
incidents and recollections of deep and hallowed, as
well as of warm and manly friendship on the part of
some of them, who, having witnessed a good confession,
have finished their course with joy.

By what instrumentality so much has been effected
— so much at least beyond the author's own anticipa-
tions— the narrative itself will explain. It is compiled
from a diary which was at first intended only for pri-
vate use ; and the object of its publication is to interest
our countrymen and countrywomen in a class of men
possessing not only many noble and generous qualities,
but even many latent feelings of gentleness and tender-
ness, pent up perhaps for years, and only waiting for
the helping hand of cordial Christian sympathy, to
flow forth in rich abundance.

PREFACE. vil

The circumstance should not be unnoticed, that the
interest attaching to some of the details is attributable
to the providence of God having so ordered the times
and seasons, that scarcely had the finishing stroke been
put to a fabric specially dedicated to the pursuits of
peace, before the whole nation was aroused by the
alarm of war, and many of the bands which had lifted
the burden, wielded the hammer, or otherwise wrought
in the work at Sydenham, were suddenly called, if not
" to hold the weapon," yet to labour in the mighty
appliances for the siege before the terrible fortress of
Sebastopol.

As might have been expected, some who thus left
their country never returned : but both among those
who have been gathered to their last resting-place in a
foreign land, and among those who have been brought
back and still survive, it is humbly hoped there are
not a few, of whom, through the grace of God, it
shall one day be said, " With joy and gladness shall
they be brought, they shall enter into The King's
Palace" — the heavenly Jerusalem, "having the
glory of God, and her light clear as crystal."

FREDERICK CHALMERS,

Bector of Beckenham, Kent.

AUTHOR'S POSTSCRIPT.

This little book is not written for those who are
usually called the Working Classes. Its purport, as
has been said, is to shew men and women who are
placed by the providence of God in another position
of life, how much of high and delicate feeling is to be
found amongst that great mass of their countrymen
who eat their bread under the heavier portion of the
primoeval curse. Its object, also, is to suggest how
much of that trial may be softened, and of that labour
lightened, by tlie manifestation of a kindly interest in
their daily toil and rare pleasures ; of a ready appre-
ciation of their better feelings, and of a true sympathy
with all that they know of earthly sorrow or of hea-
venly hope.

After the publication of this diary had been urged
by several persons in whose judgment I have con-
fidence, I still hesitated long from a fear lest its pub-
lication might lessen the freedom of future intercourse

X author's postscript.

with its subjects. During the interim, nearly all the
men personally named have been removed from any
risk of being affected by it, either by emigration or
by death.

With respect to the dead, this book is simply on the
same standing as that of any other biography.

No surname of a living man is mentioned. With
regard to the possibility of the very few who may be
left to recognise their own initials, counsel was taken
with two men of sound sense and humble piety who
had been navvies themselves, and have since been em-
ployed as Scripture readers.

The first replied to the question, Would the navvies
be pained by the publication of these conversations
and letters ? " As far as I can say, they would feel
a pleasure in your care that they should be put
straighter with otner people."

To the query, Would it be likely to promote vanity
in any of them ? the other answered with character-
istic honesty and simplicity —

" Dear Madam,— You ask me what I think would
be the effect of publishing an account of your inter-
course with the navvies, whether it would be likely
to promote vanity? 1 cannot see how it could in
any one but yourself j and I hope and believe, not
that."

author's postsceipt. zi

The originals of these letters which have been in-
troduced were sent to the press, in the first instance,
untouched ; but, on further consideration, it seemed
due to the surviving writers to correct those words
which were mis-spelt, leaving all else intact. It was
just possible that those errors in orthography might
have been so pointed out to some one of the writers
as to occasion pain ; and dearly bought, indeed,
would have been the preservation of the charm of the
truly phonetic spelling chiefly in use, if it had caused
the least vexation to one of those honest manly hearts,
for the truer or more general appreciation of which this
book is sent forth to plead.

Of T^BM

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER L

FiOl

Making Fbiends . . •' • 1

CHAPTER IL
Confirmation and First Communion . 21

CHAPTER III,
Honest Heakts 35

CHAPTER IV.
Happy Dying • • . • , 55

CHAPTER V.
Fears and Hopes .... 63

CHAPTER VI.
Wanderers Reclaimed ... 70

Xiv CONTENTS.

CHAPTER YII.

VAOB

Self-Conquest 91

CHAPTER YIIL
Last Meetings and Last Partings . 101

CHAPTER IX.
The Bible in the Camp . . . 113

CHAPTER X.
The Aemour of Light . . • 137

CHAPTER XL
More Hearts to Win . . . 147

CHAPTER XIL
Hard Fighting with Old Foes • 167

CHAPTER XIIL
The Fight . . . , . 177

CHAPTER XIV.
Human Brotherhood . . . 187

CHAPTER XV.
Brotherly Love . • • . 205

CONTENTS. XV

CHAPTER XVL

V40B

Safe at Home .... 219

CHAPTER XVII.
True and Trusty .... 237

CHAPTER XVIII.
Prison-Doors Opened . . . 267

CHAPTER XIX.
The Welcome Home . . . 279

CHAPTER XX
Gladness and Singleness of Heart 313

CHAPTER XXI.

WOBK TO DO FOB GOD XSD OUB BbOTHEB 345

OHAPTEK L

The rugged rock oft holds within its bosom,

i>eep hidden, a fount of sweet and living water,

That needs but the soft power of some meet iDfluenoe

To call it gushing forth ; — thus, too, the heart

Of many a rough, neglected child of labour,

When gejitly touched by the mild words of kindnesfc,

I3 found to be a source whence flow all plenteoualy

Trust, gratefulness, and truth, and those sweet syiofathiis

¥hai mako man loved and lovely."

<•

[miVBRSITTj

Ka wly In the year 1853, -a lar^e number of Hallway ex-
cavators, amounting at length to nearly three thousand,
were gathered from different parts of the kingdom, to
work at the grounds of the Crystal Palace at Sydenham.
Many a pleasant meeting tOvok place. Fathers and sons
who had hardly expected to grasp each others' hands
again, met there ; and brothers who had parted in boy-
hood, to follow their wandering course of life apart,
found they were working side by side.

Nearly two hundred of these men lodged in the
village of Beckenham; so that, in visiting the cottages,
we heard of them, but seldom met them, as they were
generally employed till late in the evening. It was on
Sunday, the 13th of March, that I first attempted to
seek them out. About seven in the evening, I went
to a cottage where several were lodging, and asked
for one of the family (whom I had formerly visited in
his illness), as an easy introduction to the strangers.
A tall, strong man, in a fustian jacket, opened the
door scarcely wide enough to shew his face. " Harry
amt here just now."

4 MAKING FRIENDS.

" But I suppose I shall see him if I wait, shall I
not? I will walk in, if you will allow me."

" Well, you can, if you like ; but we're a lot of
rough uns."

"Oh, thank yon, I do not mind that; you will be
very civil to me, I am sure. Would you get me a
chair?"

An intelligent-looking youth darted forward, dusted
a chair with the tail of another man's coat, and placed
it for me near the table.

I inquired if any of them had been at church ; but
not one had thought of it. They listened with
attentive interest to an account of Mr Chalmers'
morning sermon, on the occasion of the death of a
medical man who had been residing in Beckenham,
with a sketch of his history.* Several of them ex-
pressed strong admiration of Dr R 's kindness

and generosity to the poor, whilst himself working
hard, mentally, for his own support ; and the young
man, whose name was Edward Perry, said, " I know
that brain-labour is harder than hand-labour."

When the narrative was ended, he said, " Well,
ma'am, it 's a beai'tiful story, but in a measure it passes
by me, because I don't believe the Bible."

I dreaded an argument, yet felt it necessary to
reply, so prayed silently for wisdom ; and then in-
quired the reason of his unbelief.

. • The subject of " The Victory Won."

MAKING FllIENDS. 5

*' Because 1 read in the Bible that God is a God of
love, and yet that He has prepared from all eternity a
place of torment for us poor pitiful creatures."

" In my Bible/' I replied, '' I have never read any-
thing of the sort. I read that God is love ; and that the
Lord Jesus Christ will say, at the judgment day, to those
who have believed and obeyed Hiip^ 'Come, ye blessed
of my Father, intitrit tho khigdci.! prepared for you
from the foundation of the world.' But to those who
have rejected Ilisj salvation, and despised His laws,
He will say, ' Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire
prepared for the devil and Ms angels.'' If man chooses
to reject God's ofier of mercy through a Saviour, and
to prepare himself for that place of punishment, he
has no rght to charge God with the result of his own
sin and wilful madness."

"Well," he replied, ^'I do see that is a different
case from what 1 thought before. But now, look
hetts. i am a poor fellow — don't pretend nor profess ;
yet I have a quarrel with a mate — feel to hate him —
will drub him well next time we light on one another.
Think better of it — ofier him half my bread and
cheese, when we chance of meeting — and we're friends.
Now, Avhy can't Gol do a generous action like that,
and forgive us outright ? "

"Well, my friend, we must try and look at the
case upon both sides. Suppose a father of a well-
trained family — very obedient to his orders — an

6 MAKING FRIENDS.

ornament to the neighbourhood — a blessing to liim
and to each other. Suddenly he discovers one of
them has fallen into disobedience to him, and is
indulging in lying, swearing, or stealing. What is
the father to do ? His tender heart says, ' I can't bear
to inflict punishment on my son ; ' his wise head says,
' But if I do not, disorder, sin, and misery will soon
run riot in my family. The rest will say. Father
does not mind our disobeying him — he makes no dif-
ference between the good and the bad ; there can't be
much harm in sin, then, after all. I also will follow
my own inclinations, if nothing is to come of it.' "

" Well, I see what you mean, and it is sense, too.
But how do you know that God has any other
family besides men?"

*' I know it from His word. I read of ^ angels '
and ^ hosts of heaven.' And ' that unto principalities
and powers in heavenly places might be known by
the Church the manifold wisdom of God.' But tell
me, when you are at work beneath the dark blue
midnight sky, and iook up from your shovelful of
earth to the thousand stars that are glittering there,
most of them worlds much larger than this, do you
think they are only hung there for lanterns? Do
you not rather think that God, who w^astes nothing
in His creation, as we see more the deeper we look
into it, has probably peopled many of them with
beings as intelligent as man? And what if the

MAKING FKIENDS. 7

news should be carried throughout God*s creation,
that a world had rebelled against Ilim, and that
lie had taken no notice of it — would not other
worlds be liable to take the infection ; and sin
and its sister misery spread throughout God's beau-
tiful universe — and blacken the whole? But
He has taken notice of it. He has punished sin
with death. ' Death hath passed upon all men,
for that all have sinned.' And He threatens eternal
death to unrepenting sinners. Yet, ^ God SO loved

THE WORLD, THAT He GAVE HiS ONLY BEGOTTEN

Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should
not perish, but have everlasting life.' that
Son of God became man ; He was born into this world
for dhe purpose. To bear the punishment due to
our sins. To make an infinite sacrifice with infinite
suffering — all for one purpose. Tliis is that purpose.
' The Son of man is come to seek and to save
THAT WHICH WAS LOST.' He is drawing nigh — Ho
is come to you^ now. He is speaking these words of
His own bj my feeble lips. Are you willing to let
Him save you?"

" I am, I am," he said, with fervour, drawing his
chair nearer to me as he spoke. " I never thought
of Him before but as an angry God. You make
Him out a Friend P

" And so will you^ when you read His Word.
But I want you to kneel down and join with me in

8 MAKING FIUENDS.

praying that God would give you His Holy Spirit
from this hour — that these better thoughts and feel-
ings may not pass away. Shall 1 pray with you?"

^' 1 should like it. But this man," pointing to
one behind him, " never opens his mouth but to
swear."

" But he will open it to pray now. Will you not,
my friend?"

"Yes!"

And as we all knelt together, their voices followed
mine, and two or three sobs burst from those strong
men. As we rose up, I told them how much I should
have liked to stay to read with them ; but as it was
growing late, would they therefore read the Bible
together when I had left ?

" 1 will read to the rest," said Edward ; and took
down the landlady's Bible. I opened it on John iii.
for him ; and lingered at the door to hear the full
tones of his earnest voice, and to thank God, and
take courage.

He sat up reading on, in that Gospel of St John,
till ten o'clock that night. I was told afterwards
that when speaking of our conversation, he said, " It
was all true that she said to me. I felt it in my
heart."

We have never met again. I fear now that we
never shall meet until the day when we shall hear
those two sentences passed, the solemn words of

MAKING FRIENDS. 9

which began our friendly discussion. He left before
the Bible which I sent him reached his lodging.
Bitterly have I regretted, ever since, a few days' delay
in sending it. Every effort to trace him since has
failed. But He who stood at the door of that honest
heart then, and knocked, and said, ^^ If any man hear
my voice and open the door, I w^ill come in to him,
and sup with him and he with me," will, I hope and
believe, give him the victory that overcometh the
world — even faith — and say to him, at the last, ^' To
him that overcometh, will I grant to sit with me on
my throne, even as I also overcame and have sat
down with ray Father on his throne."

Encouraged by the cordial reception given to my
friendly advances by these strangers, I felt anxious
to meet them for the purpose of giving religious
instruction on the Sabbath evenings, and twice in
the week; especially as I found on inquiry that
few. if any, of them, at that time, ever seemed to
think of entering any place of worship. Some visits
to cottages where they lodged brought several volun-
teers for these Bible classes ; and two rooms, with an
open doorway between them, were offered for the
purpose. From that time Testaments were given
to those who attended. One evening as I passed a

cottage door, I heard a man called Jacob K

reading from his Testament to an Irish Koman
Catholic, who vrould not before that day come to the

10 MAKING FRIENDS.

'' readings," hut dropped in from time to time after-
wards. Another, named Isaac R, , was laving tlia

pipes at the Exhibition, when the earth fell in upon
him. He said, that as he lost sight of the sun, he
thought of the words read at the last cottage meeting,
" Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt
be saved." The earth was cleared away, and he and
three others were drawn out alive, but sadly bruised.
At the time he seemed much impressed, but the
impression, alas, wore away, although his gratitude
and friendly feeling always remained.

William G was one of my earliest friends

amongst the navvies. Three weeks before he came
here, a serious accident had happened to him. He and
another man were taken out alive from under a land
slip, and went to a public-house to recruit themselves.
His companion drank hard, and two hours afterwards
fell down dead. "William was deeply shocked, and
began to pray that God would lead him to some place
where his soul would be cared for. He had been
well brought up by a good mother, who taught him
early to reverence the house of God. But a wander-
ing life had in some degree broken the habit, and

MAKING FRIENDS. 11

rendered him careless. William intended to emi-
grate to Australia in the course of the summer which
he spent at Bcckenham. On the last Sunday in
July, he said to me, '^ I have attended all the read-
ings, ma'am, since the day you first picked me up for
one, and I bless God for them. I should have liked
one more before I sail. You are going to be away
next Sunday, are you not?''

" Yes, William, and perhaps the following Sunday
also."

" Well, ma'am, I am going to Cheshire, to bid my
mother good-bye ; and if you would come back for the
second Sunday, I would, too, and have another Sun-
day evening here before I go to Australia."

This, of course, was settled at once.

William returned to his lodging on Saturday
night. Early on Sunday morning, I went down to
see him. He was looking out of spirits.

^' You have been feeling your parting with your
mother, William ? "

^' Wliy, the worst is, I have not parted. I have
promised her not to go. Mother had fretted herself
ill. I am her only son; and she never stopped
fretting until I gave over going."

" Cheer up, then, William ; for God has said,
^ Honour thy father and thy mother, that thy days
may be long in the land.' God has a blessing in
store for you, for giving up your great wish for the

12 MAKING Fill ENDS.

sake of comforting your mother. I believe He has a
great reason for letting you be detained in England.
And I cannot help being glad when such men as you
do not go out of the country."

The next day he found he had lost his work at
the Exhibition by his absence, and went oif to Wind-
sor for work. I went down to invite him to a pro-
jected tea-party j but found he had left^ to ray great
disappointment.

His landlady said, William had been trying to
persuade her husband to go to church with him on
Sunday ; but that the landlord answered, " It is all
very well for you^ William, with your good clothes
and spruce boots ; but look at my old slioes with the
holes in them. I won't go till I can go like other
people." At once William took off his new boots,

saying, " Take them, P , and I '11 wear your old

shoes, sooner than you should not go to the house of
God."

His tranquil, generous nature seemed now always
awake to be doing good. The same morning that
he told me he had given up going out to Australia, a
friend of his, who was to have been his ^^ mate "
thither, came in, and mentioned that he had no Bible.
William said, after a moment's pause, " You won't
think, ma'am, that I don't love the little Bible you
gave me ; but hadn't he better have it ? He may not
be able to get one out there."

MAKING FRIENDS. 13

About the time of first meeting William G , I

addressed a youth of nineteen or twenty, on mj way to
the cottage where we assembled on Sunday evening, and

asked him his name, &c. His name was John H .

His fair face, straight features, and almost white hair,
were eminently Saxon, and he himself the wildest
piece of nature I had then seen.

'• Will you come to church next Sunday?'-

^•' Church ! No ; I never goes to such places ! '*

" Will you come to a cottage "where we have a
Scripture-reading for Crystal Palace workmen?"

" No ; I goes to nothing of that sort."

'^ Perhaps you would like a little Testament to
carry in yom* w^aistcoat pocket?"

" I shouldn't mind tliat."

Crossing the road, I spoke to another young man.
who looked two or three years older, and received the
same refusals; but met wdth fixed attention, when I
told him of my father's first sermon, and the story of
a man, who was called '' Swearing Tom " before he
heard it, and '' Praying Tom " ever after. Turning

round, I saw John H had followed me, and was

listening earnestly.

" I '11 come now to that 'ere reading you spoke of.
Where is it?"

" And so will I," said the other, a ruddy, fresh-
faced youth. " I 'm Henry, elder brother to he."

They came, and attended regularly from that day.

14 MAKING FRIENDS.

Soon afterwards, I carried the little Testament to
John's lodgings ; he was not at home. A man and
a boy sat on the door-stone, and answered bj mono-
syllables. Presently some street m.usic was heard, and
a party of young men rushed down a by-lane, dancing
to the measure, with John H at their head.

" Holloa, John," shouted the boy from the door-
stone, "2/ere's our lady."

John came back, and eagerly seized his Testament;
then sitting down on the door-step, twirled it round
between his finger and thumb.

" Now, aint it a rare beauty ? I '11 cover it with a
slice off my best red choker."

The first time that many of the navvies came
to the school-room service, was when my father
lectured — the evening after his seventy-eighth birth-
day. I went about the village inviting our new
friends, and found between thirty and forty who were
really pleased to come. John brought some friends
with him.

On leaving Beckenham for a few days, I wrote
notes in printing characters to several of these men,
to request them to attend the house of God regularly.
Upwards of thirty responded to the appeal, on the
next Sunday morning, filling the middle aisle, in
their clean stiff white slops. News of this was
sent to me ; so I wrote letters to thank them, and to
mention, that on the following Thursday evening a

MAKING FRIENDS. 15

missionary meeting would be held in the school-room.
More than forty came. After it was over, I asked
John H if he had received my letter ?

" A letter for me ! — all the way from where you
went ! " And he shouted for joy. " Well, the post-
man did bring one, and I said, 'T aint for me. No-
body cares to write to me ; so I sent it back. But
I '11 go and pull the post-office about their ears if they
don't give it me back again."

A few days later, I met John with a noisy, singing
party of young men. On the next Thursday evening,
when I spoke to him, whilst the school-room bell
was ringing for the lecture, he looked very much
ashamed, and said in a low tone, " You aint agoing
to ask me to come to the lecture after the way you
heard me shouting the other evening ? I had been to
the ' public' "

" I was sure of it, John. But still, I want you to
come this evening."

" No, never again."

"Why not?"

" Because it don't do to live two Uves.''^

" I know it, John; and that 's the reason I want you
to come to-night, and to begin all over again. The
Saviour of the world invites you to come and be
pardoned. Come and hear about Him now. Don't
put it oif. You may never have another Thursday
evening."

16 MAKING FRIENDS.

" I '11 come, then. And I '11 bring six ! "

True to his word, he came, marshalling six com-
rades with a leader's pride. From that time, he regu-
larly attended the services and readings.

Soon after this, it occurred to us that it would be
a pleasant little plan to have a tea-party for our new
friends, who, from their wandering life, seem so much
cut off from innocent social enjoyments. We also
felt it would be an expression of approbation of their
attendance upon public worship, and at school-room
and cottage-readings. As it was the height of sum-
mer, the late hour at which they returned from their
work was no hindrance to their accepting invitations
to a tea party, which were duly sent to each man,
and were received with a kind of subdued excite-
ment. Orders were given for shirts and smock-
frocks (technically termed "slops") to be washed
and starched with double care, and a large supply of
soap was bought up for the occasion.

The school-room was decorated with festoons of
flowers, and a button-hole bouquet of geranium and
jessamine was tied up with blue ribbon, and laid
upon each plate.

Long afterwards, I saw some of these flowers care-
fully preserved in books !

Whilst we were arranging these important matters,

with no small joy we saw William G 's calm,

happy face at the gate. A letter from one of hi^i

MAKING FRIENDS. ] 7

Mends had advised him of the coming event^ and
he had returned from Windsor to take his seat at the
tea-table.

To a minute, at the appointed time, our friends
arrived ; each man looking as clean as a baby on
its christening day. Faces and hands had been
scrubbed till they shone again. They quietly and
quickly seated themselves ; and no gentlemen in the
United Kingdom could have conducted themselves
more admirably.

There was no constraint of manner; on the contrary,
perfect ease. There was no loud talking, but many
a cheerful remark. Not an expression was used
which we could have wished had been otherwise ; but
the frank and hearty enjoyment of the evening was
deiightful to see.

Some good pictures, and a missionary transparency
were shewn them ; and " God Save the Queen" was
sung early in the evening. Towards its close, my
father addressed them ; and concluded with prayer,
and the hymn, beginning —

** Come, let us join our cheerful songs,
With angels round the throne,"

in which they all joined with great zest.

As the clock struck ten, the chief speaker amongst
them, after a short conference with the leaders of the
party, said, " We have taken up a great deal of the
ladies' time, and had better go now." Several said^

B

18 MAKING FRIENDS.

as they went out, ** Kever spent a happier evening
— never, nohow ! "

As they walked through the village, it was ar-
ranged, by universal consent, that not one should bo
absent from the school-room lecture the ensuing even-
ing. " It would look so ! as if they only came foi
tea and cake."

William G was " set on " again at the

Crystal Palace work the next day, and returned to
his former lodging in the village, to our true con-
tent.

On Saturday evening, August 13th, William M

came *^to speak about his difficulties," he said, "if
it was not giving too much trouble."

" My mate and I were working in a pit ; and,
says he, ^ I wonder. Bill, whether it is true what
they say of heaven being so happy — whether, now, it
can be liappier than sitting in the public, over a good
jug of ale, with a fiddle going? I don't know a
pleasure as comes up to that.' "

I thought of their homeless lives, and wishing to
sympathise as far as I could, said, " Well, I dare say
you do find a pleasure in it."

"A pleasure!" he inteiTupted me, to exclaim, "you
can't think the pleasure of it! " with an earnestness
that was truly affecting, as the thought arose, " Is
this the highest pleasure within the grasp of these
noble fellows?"

MAKING FRIENDS. 19

" But that pleasure must p^ss away, William, and
you must die. Would that pleasure help you to ' die
happy/ and to live in happiness beyond death?"

" No ! If you come to that, I Ve seen the two ways
of dying. I had an uncle. You couldn't come into
his room for horrors when he was dying — saw terrible
things. And I had a grandfather — he loved his Bible
— died a'most too full of peace. Couldn't speak for
joy, like."

" And which way of dying are you bound for, Wil-
liam?"

" Well" (with a navvy's usual slow enunciation
and pauses in the course of giving utterance to any
religious sentiment), "I think — I'd rather — setoff —
to live so as to die like grandfather."

This same William M came up to the Rectory

the night before the tea-party, to say that seven men
who had not sent in their names, so as to receive notes
of invitation, were waiting outside the gate, " too shy
to come in."

I went out to speak to the shy seven, and as they
received their notes, William said, " It will be so
pleasant to us to talk of the tea-party when we meet
one another by chance hundreds of miles away."

On Sunday night, after the services of the day were
over, they assembled on the Eectory lawn to take
leave of us, before we left home for some weeks, and
to receive prayer-books, as an encouragement to con-

20 MAKING FRIENDS.

tinue attending Divine service, and to assist them in
attention and devotion.

When each man stepped up to the hall door, to
have his name written in his book, after having
listened to farewell words, there were not many dry-
eyes ; and we parted with a solemn impression that
we should never meet all together again in this world.

The next day a fearful accident befel a large num-
ber of the Crystal Palace workmen. A scaffolding
gave way, and in its fall crushed out the strong young
life from some of those manly forms in a moment.
Without a warning, they passed into eternity.

Oh ! were they keady ? Or was even their last
breath a cry for mercy to Him whose ear is ever open,
and who stipulates not for time nor for repetition
when He says, " Whosoever shall call upou the
name of the Lord shall be saved."

CHAPTEB II.

(&Mxm\m M)i i'mt ([^mm^mru

" A sacred burden is the life ye bear;
Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly ;
Stand np and walk beneath it steadfastly;
Pail not for sorrow, falter not for sin ;
Bat onward, upward, till the goal ye win.
God guard ye, and God guide ye on your way,
Tvroig pilgrim-warriors who set forth to-day. '

It was a great relief to hear that none of the men
■whom we had known best, had suffered from the fatal
accident of the 15th of August.

During the time of our ahsence, in Ireland, the
navvies continued to attend the school-room lectures
in large numbers ; and some came, for the sake of fur-
ther instruction, to Mr Chalmers' and his curate's cate-
chetical lectures to the candidates for confirmation.
Five navvies persevered in their wish to be confirmed.*
One of these young men, named James Hewson, was
only able to remain in Beckenham for about three
weeks atter his confirmation, as just at that time
fewer workmen were rec[uired in the Crystal Palace
grounds. His manner of devout attention at church
and at the cottage readings, and his earnest desire to
find work anywhere in the neighbourhood, so as to
enable him to remain in Beckenham, interested me
not a little. After all his efforts to find work within
daily walking distance had failed, he called to say

* The Archbishop of Canterbury, who confirmed them, afterwai-da
expressed both interest and satisfaction in. their solemn and devout nian*
ner, as they knelt, alone, the last of the candidates to receive the rite.

24 CONFIRMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION.

good-"bye. He was very young and sailor-like in his
appearance, with an open, true face, and broad,
strong shoulders. As he stood in the doorway of
my sitting-room, after a parting prayer, with a chok-
ing voice he said, ^' You 've been a mother to me.
As long as I live I shall never forget you. And
God grant I may practise what you've taught me.''

Shortly afterwards the following letter was re-
ceived : —

"November 11, 1853.

"Dear Madam, — I now take the pleasure of
writing to you. I do hope you are in good health,
as it leaves me at this time, thank God for it. I
often wish I had stopped at Beckenham. I went to
Birmingham to work, but did not like to stop there,
for there was nothing to do me any good. It was a
wild and drunken set about me. It did not suit me
at all. I want to be somewhere where it is more
still, so that I can do what is right in living for God.

" 1 always think of the words and good advice you
gave me when .1 left. It never leaves me. I am
sorry to say that I have been far from being right,
but I hope that the Lord will help me, and give me
a new heart, and teach me to do better than I have
done before. I want to be nearer and dearer to Him
who gave Himself loi me. Your prayers, I believe,
has reached me, I feel such a pressure on me.

" I hope the Lord will have mercy on me, a poor

CONFIRMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION. 25

sinner, and bring me in tlie right way for heaven.
Oh that I may never turn away from Him no moi-e,
but ever live to Him who sent His only-begotten Son
to die for me, and all to redeem us from sin.

" May He watch and keep a guard over us, and
bring us all to heaven, to sit at His right hand, for
the Redeemer's sake. 0 Lord, do thou help us,
and bring us to thy heavenly throne of grace !

" From Birmingham I went to Liverpool, but
there was very little work there, and a great many
hands out of employ, so I came into Staffordshire,
to my brothers. I think, if I stop about here, of work-
ing in a coal-pit, near to my brothers. If there was
plenty of work at the Crystal Palace, I would come
to Beckenham again. I long to be near you again.
— I remain your humble scholar,

" James Hewson."

Then came another letter, written in gi'cat distress
at having received no reply. He had forgotten to
give me any address. Before I could obtain it by
inquiring amongst his friends, he had sailed for
America.

One more letter has been received from him, en-
treating some advice for his soul, which he said was
in great danger. But as "Kansas Territory" was
its only date, I have little hope that my answer ever
reached Lim. It is painful to be unable to assure

26 CONFIRMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION.

him that his manly, grateful young spirit has never
been forgotten, and that his name is rememhered in
prayer to this day, that he may ^'be faithful unto
death," and ^'receive a crown of life."

It may be that we shall meet next in the presence
of Him who has said, " If ye shall ask anything in
my name, I will do it." " And this is the confidence
that we have in him, that if we ask anything accord-
ing to his will, he heareth us." *

William G had been confirmed in his boyhood ;

and as his life was bearing testimony to the reality of
the change in him, it was pressed upon him that he
should come and partake of the Lord's Supper, with his
five mates, on the Sunday following the confirmation.

A book had been lent him, named ^' Thoughts on
the Lord's Supper," by Thomas Doolittle. It had
been diligently studied ; and William's quiet, con-
sistent walk and conversation was remarked by all
his companions.

On the previous Saturday night, he called to see
me. "I have given np coming to the Lord's Table."
His countenance was sad as he spoke.

* If this book should fall into the hands of any relative or friend of
James Hewson, the "vriter would be greatly obliged for any inforn>j«.tion
concerning him«

0» TH«

CONFIRMATION ANDiFJJ5| CQ^tfWfattlflVl

" Oh, William, this is a grie'
to me."

" I knew it would be. And it is worse to me.
IBeckenham has been, I believe, my birthplace for
heaven. So here I would have liked, of all places,
to come for the first time for the Lord's Supper. But,
you see, I live in the world, and there is a tempting
devil, and I have an evil heart. And if I make a
slip after that^ they '11 say, ' There goes your Sacra-
ment man.' And it will bring a shame on the name
of my Lord. And that I could not bear."

All this was spoken, as is usual with William,
slowly and reverently.

" Well, dear friend, I too live in the world, and
have an evil heart, and there is a tempting devil for
me. But just for all this, I find the deeper need of
obedience to my Lord's last command, ' Do this in
remembrance of me.' My feeble faith needs the
strengthening ; my shallow humility, the deepening ;
my cold love, the warming, which I find by the Holy
Spirit's blessing upon the sacrament of our Lord's
Supper. Never does sin seem so hateful to me as when
I receive the remembrancers of the death it cost Him."

He listened with fast filling eyes.

" Your faith does not waver, does it, William?
You believe in God as your Father?"

^^Yes."

" In Jesus Christ as your Saviour?"

28 CONFIRMATION AND FIKST COMMUNION.

'^ Yes."

^' And in the Holy Spirit, as God willing to dwell
with man?"

^' Yes ; and I have asked Him to dwell with me.
And what 's more, He has come. Only I want more
of Him."

I then led him to Mr Chalmers' study, and asked
him to converse with William about his present doubt
and difficulty. Mr Chalmers said, " William, can
you tell me to whom our Lord administered His last
Supper?"

" To His twelve apostles, sir."

" And what did Peter do, within a few hours later?"

" Denied Him, with oaths and curses."

" Did our Lord foreknow this ? "

" Yes, sir ; He must."

" Then, why did He allow him to partake of it ?"

After a few moments' thought, ^' I suppose, sir,
He knew that he had grace enough left to bring him
back again, and set it all straight."

" Right, William. And has He not restoring
grace, and preserving grace, too, enough for you? "

" Thank you, sir ; I see. I believe. I am satisfied.
By God's help, I shall come."

He came. And it was a thing to thank God for,
to see his serenely peaceful face as he left the house
of God, after his first communion.

From that time, all who were much with him.

CONFIRMATION AND FIRS T COMMUNION. 29

" took knowledge of him that he had been with
Jesus."

Soon after that Sacrament Sunday, William went
to Deptford to work at the docks. But the first Sun-
day in every month was spent in Beckenham. The
two services in the church, and the Sacrament, seemed
to be a deep and sacred delight to him ; and he never
returned at night until after meeting for prayer and
reading the Bible at the cottage, which, he said^
always seemed " like his cradle in the new life ! "

On the first Sunday, he dined with the servants at
the Kectory ; but afterwards ate his own dinner on a
stile in one of the meadows. On being pressed to
say why he would not come in to dine every Sunday
when he had walked over to Beckenham, he replied,
" Why, you see, ma'am, the world talks ! And if
they said, ^ Here 's your Sacrament man coming for
his good dinner ! ' don't you see the harm it would
do to the Name by which I am called?"

One evening he visited with me a man with whom
he had worked at the Crystal Palace grounds ; and
finding he was in distress, slipped back, unperceived
by me, to put a sovereign quietly into his !^and.

This must have been an effort of faith, as well as a
mark of generosity and kindness ; for he believed he
had then just discovered the loss of thirty shillings,
and did not remember that he had left them in
the pocket of his working clothes, until after his

30 CONFIEMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION.

return to Deptford. This he mentioned to nie whe-n

I told him that James W wished to return

part of the money, and inquired whether he really
could afford so large a sum. ^' Oh, fairly, thank you,
ma'am, and find myself thirty shillings richer than I
thought I was."

A day or two afterwards I received the following
letter : —

"January 6, 1854.

'■^ Dear Madam, — I now take the liberty to write
these few lines to you. I received your letter with
great pleasure, and thank you for it. I am afraid I
am giving you a deal of trouble. The tract you sent
in your letter is a very instructive and pretty one.
I can only recompense your kindness to me by my
prayers, that your own intercourse with God may be
abundantly blessed to you and to all with whom you

speak. I saw Jacob K last Sunday, and I had

a little talk with him, but I think he seems quite
altered; he would not come to any point, but appeared
to want to talk of different trifling things, so that I
cannot give you any satisfactory account ; but we
must pray for him, and hope that he thinks more
than he appears to do. I often think of those words
that the Lord said to Elijah, when Elijah complained
of being the only prophet left of the L.«^'d: '• Yet,' He
said, ^ have I prepared me seven thousand in Israel.'
I think this should give us great encouragement;

CONFIRMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION. 31

thougli he may seem careless, let us not give up pray-
ing that little prayer of yours — ^ Fill him with the
Holy Ghost;

" I felt much last Sunday morning under Mr
Chalmers' sermon. I think he was in great earnest.
Let us pray it may make others in great earnest about
their souls.

^' Dear Madam, the three half-sovereigns I found all
right; I had left them in other trousers pockets, for-
getting to take them out. Your letter stated I must
send you word which of the Beckenham lodgers I
should see, and you would send by him a purse for
me. I am much obliged to you, it is very kind of
you ; but as I shall come to Beckenham, if God will
and nothing turns out more than I expect, next Sacra-
ment Sunday, I will not trouble you to send it. So
now I must conclude, dear friend. — From your affec-
tionate son in the Lord,

"William G .

" If I err in boldness, pray pardon me.

" I consider the Saviour saying to you as He did to
Peter, ^Lovest thou me?' and may your heartfelt ex-
perience say, ^ Lord, thou knowest all things j thou
knowest that I love thee."

Henry Hunns also, who had just been confirmed,
was deeply affected by his first communion. It waff

32 CONFIRMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION.

some weeks afterwards that he said to me, '' Them
tears that Sabbath day were pleasanter than the best
smiles I ever had on." He was a much more de-
monstrative character than William, and had none of
his peculiar composure and self-possession. The
warm heart was in his glowing face and ready speech,
and, that day, in his fast-flowing tears. He seemed
only just able to check a sob, under the remembrance
of the quiet solemnity of the service and the place.

During a few weeks absence from Beckenham, he
wrote the following letter : —

" November 16 1853
^' Madam, — i received your Kind Letter and was
very glad for your kind advice and i tell you the
truth i am a tetotaler and by the Grace of Cjd and
health and strength i shall continue my six weeks of
it and i hope by blesings of God i shall never drink
the same again as i have done for i have been very
wricked all my life and i hope and trust that the
Saviour of sinners will help me to fight manfully
under Christs banner against the world the flesh and
the Devil and above all let me say teach me to do
thy will O Lord and keep thy commandments and
may the Saviour of sinners help me to do so for i have
been a Great friend of the devil for 20 years and i
am often sorrey when I think about it but praised be
the Lord he had compassion on me and spared my

CONFIRMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION. 33

Life from being in hell for i could not have expected
nothing else had he eut me down in my sins but
thank God their is a Saviour daily pleading for me
may i not Greive his holy Spirit but watch and pray
that i may not enter into temtation and in the hour of
temtation may the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ
help me to Look up and say God be merciful to me a
sinner and teach me to be on my watch at the hour of
temtation for that very often is the time when Satan
lead me by the hand where he like to Get me in the
publick house and make a beast of Myself but may
God help me by his Grace to say Get thee behind,
me Satan for i have been thy servant two long already
Lord may I cling to the Crucified may his death be
life to me life for eternity so now kind friend i con-
clude with my best wishes to you and hope you will
enjoy a state of Good health as I have at present I
remain a tetotaler and by the Grace of God I shall
continue so. Henry Hunns."

During the winter, the attendance of the navvies at
church continued to be large and regular: and the
cottages, where "readings" were given, were thronged.

On the last day of 1853, the sergeant of the police,
stationed at Beckenham, called to return thanks for
the interest that had been taken in these noble fellows.
He said that his duty had never been so easy before
in Beckenham, for their example had restrained tho

c

34 CONFIRMATION AND FIRST COMMUNION.

wilder young men of the place, and had even shamed
a few into attendance at public worship.

So, we wrote at the close of onr first year's inter-
course with the navvies — " Hitherto hath the Lord
helped us."

CHAPTER III

** Tis a rich, rough gem— deny it wLo ca&,
Tte heart '-^ ft true-born Eng'/ahman."

On New Year's Day, 1854, when I was on my way to

visit James W- , I met Henry Hunns, and gave

him the Bible which had been promised him in re-
membrance of his first day of partaking of the Lord's
Supper. He told me that he " had felt more peace-
able-like" in his mind, since cur conversation and
prayer the evening before ; and, with an expression of
deep and earnest feeling in his honest face, he added,
that he " did so hope he should not be permitted to
fall away."

Poor James W had been suffering severely dur-
ing the night, and was obliged to give up his cherished
hope of coming with his " mates " to the morning
service and sacrament. Two or three of his friends
were by his side, and had been uniting in prayer. I
took the opportunity of giving them their Bibles,
with which they were delighted ; and especially with
the texts written in them on the subject of the sacra-
ment.

William G was in church, and remained for

the communion with Charles F , Edward G •

B8 HONEST HEARTS.

William C , and Henry Hunns. They were all

very serious and earnest in their deportment, and
seemed to realise the solemnity of the service in which
they had been engaged.

William G walked up with me in the evening

to the cottage reading. On our way, we called at Gib-
bon's lodging-house, to inquire why George P , bet-
ter known amongst his companions as ^'tall George,"
was absent from the last week's readings. He was
there, cap in hand, but unwilling to come. " Paget
had been so rule to him of late — I a 'd as good as
determined never to set foot inside his house again."

"Oh, George, then you mind more about Paget
than you do about me. I care for your soul, and
want to ask you to-night to set out in earnest on the
road to heaven ; and it will vex me if you do nol
come."

" Well, now ! 1 care more lor you, ma'am, than
for Paget, a thousand times. So, I '11 not mind aboui
him being rude. I think I '11 go."

Just before I had left the Eectory, a basket had
been brought me, furnished with writing and work-
ing materials, and intended to carry Testaments and

tracts. A letter was inside it, from Isaac R ,

Thomas Dibley, Thomas Paget, William M ,

Frederick E , and John D , begging my

acceptance of it, " to remind me of them when they
are many miles away." I found Isaac, Frederick,

HONEST HEARTS. 89

and Paget, at Mrs Elliott's. They seemed de-
lighted to see my pleasure in their gift ; and Isaac
said, " They hoped the books in that basket would
do a power of good to a many souls ; though it might
be, the books I had given them had not yet done
them so much good as they should, by this time."

After a pause, and re-examination of the contents
of the basket, Paget said, " I am sorry to say any-
thing to vex you ; but I 'd best speak it out. If tall
George comes to-night to the reading, I shall order
him out."

"Oh, Paget, why so?"

" Because he said at the works, as I stole a medal
off your Christmas-tree, that last tea-party you gave
us."

" How very wrong of him ! But if I were you, I
would not take any notice ; even if he said that you
stole a hundred. No judge or jury, looking at your
honest face, could ever say anything but ^ Not
Guilty!'"

Paget listened with a broad, hearty smile, which
grew into a short laugh of satisfaction; but Isaac
could not so easily pass over the affront offered to his
friend ; so he said,

" It is very kind of you to have such a good opinion
of us ; but it is not pleasant to be pointed at all over
the works, as him as stole a medal off the Ladies*
Christmas-tree."

4Q HONEST HEARTS.

"No," added Paget, stoutly; "I'll order George
out."

" Oh no, Paget ! you will not, I am sure. You
lend me your room for a church ! Now, if anybody
were to say, Mr Chalmers was a thief, he would not
order that man out of church, but would let him stay
to learn not to bear false witness against his neigh-
bour."

"Well, I see! That's very good. Tall George
may stay."

George, however, was invisible, having taken his
place in the inner room. After the little congrega-
tion had dispersed, I asked Paget whether he did not
think a Sunday and a New Year's Day in one, would
be a delightful day for making up a quarrel ; and
therefore whether he would forgive George, if he
fchould come and tell him he felt sorry for what he
had said ?

" Well, it would be a goodish thing, I think."

On the strength of this I walked back to George's

lodging, with William G , who was waiting with

my lantern in his hand, to see me safe within the
Kectory gate before he returned to Deptford.

"May I not go back with you and George,
ma'am?"

" No, thank you, William. It would make Paget
and George think I was afraid of a fight coming on,
and wanted you to take care of me. That would

HONEST HEARTS. 41

never do. It would be all over with my hope of
making peace."

" That 's true ! And God will go with you."

George was at supper with four fellow-lodgers.
He came out of the house to speak to me — standing
up like a church-tower, in his massive height and
strength. ^' George, I am sorry about this matter
between you and Paget."

" Well, I daresay you are ; but I am not. What
business had he to say that I drank ten cups of tea,
and ate seven bits of cake at your tea-meeting ? "

'' Indeed, that was bad manners, George ; and I am
surprised to hear it of Paget. But if I had been you,
I would have answered, if I had eaten a dozen slices
of cake, and drank twenty cups of tea, she would
only have been the better pleased."

'^ Well ! that would have been a good 'un ! I wish
I'd thought on 't."

" So do I. But if you did not think of a ready
answer, you had no right to say that Paget stole a
medal. He never said that you stole the seven bits
of cake."

^^ I didn't say he stole it. I said, I seed two
medals in his hand, and never seed him put down
neither."

" Oh ! George, that was almost wcrse. It was so
mean. I could not have thought it of you. And
then the next person said he had stolen it — and so

42 HONEST IIEAIITS.

the story went round. How sorry y«>u oiiglit to have
felt when you heard it."

" No, I wasn't ; I was very glad."

" That was very wrong. But you are growing
sorry now ? Come with me and tell him so."

'' No, I can't — no, never."

" Then I shall go home sorry."

After a short pause, and with a strong eiSbrt, he
rejoined, "No, no, you shan't do that, for my doings.
I'll go to Paget."

When we reached the cottage door, I knocked
quickly, for George looked half-disposed to walk
away again. Paget opened it, and I said, " George
is come to say he is sorry," and trusted that Paget
would at once shake hands with him, and so that
all would he right between them, Paget, however,
wished to speak his mind before he gave his hand;
and then there came such loud speaking of mutual
reproaches, that I feared a fight would follow, and
began bitterly to repent my folly and temerity in
bringing the combatants together. Fists were raised
and shaken so near each other's faces, that I thought
best to glide between, and warn the disputants to
stand further off as they spoke. The clamour grew
louder and louder, until a pause for breath gave me
opportunity for speech. Then I said, "Oh! Paget,
Oh! George, this is terrible. On New Year's night,
on Sunday night, and under the roof where half an

HONEST HEARTS. 48

hour ago we were worshipping God, to have such
angry words said ! It will not do. It is very sinful.
We must have no more. Let us kneel down and
pray that the God of peace and love would prove
Himself here, to be stronger than the father of strife
and hatred, that is the devil."

At first I knelt alone, hut soon heard the two men
suddenly fall on their knees ; and when we rose up,
the tears were rolling down Paget's cheeks. ^^ I '11
never say another word about it, after that prayer,"
he said. " I '11 forgive him from my heart, out."

George, however, stood with his hand on the
latch, and said, " No, no ! I '11 never cross my hand
on a man's as says he'll put me in the lock-up for a
word. I never seed the inside of a gaol in my life,
and now to be put in for a few careless words ! "

" O George, how can you be so silly ? Paget has
just said he will forgive you from his heart. He
would never dream, now, of getting you into prison.
You hnow he would not. You have both been hot,
and have spoken sinful words ; but both are sorry
for them. I am not going home until I have seen
you friends, by God's help."

He stood irresolute, but sullen,

" Give me your hand,"

"That I will."

" And now, Paget, give me yours."

Two huge, rough hands met in mine, and then,

44 HONEST HEARTS.

independently, shook each other as heartily as if the
men had been friends from the cradle, and would he
to the grave.

" Thank God ! It is all right now. Good night,
Paget ; you have behaved like a king. God bless
you." As we went back, George confessed that
^' his heart felt more lightsome like," and there was
a choking sound about his voice as he said, '•^ God
bless you, ma'am," at parting.

Faithful William G was waiting for me, a

few doors further on. I told him how sorry I was
that he should have waited so long a time, and asked
him why he had not gone back to Deptford at once,
as I had begged he would.

" Why, ma'am, you see we are a rough lot before
we get the grace of God in us, and I was afraid you
might see a bit of fighting, and be frightened. Yet I
thought God would give you the power to make it
all straight."

" And so you stood here praying that He would,
and waited to hear that He had answered you."

" Yes, ma'am. I knew you were right to go alone,
and shew your trust in them. So all I could do was
to pray, and I believe there's nothing like it."

When we came to the Rectory gate, John Mynott
was standing by it. He had waited an hour for a
farewell. " Blessed Beckenham ! " he said ; ^^I wish
I could spend all my days here."

HONEST HEARTS. 45

I never saw him again. He was killed by the
falling of some timber about a year afterwards.

On Monday evening, three hundred villagers and
navvies assembled in the schoolroom, to see the dis-
solving views of scenes connected with the Jewish mis-
sions, for which my father had sent, to provide them
with an evening's amusement. The navvies' excla-
mations of approbation were very cheerful to hear.
I took the opportunity of privately thanking John

D , William M , and Thomas Dibley for

their share in the gift of my basket ; and it was better
than all the dissolving views in the world, to see the
sparkle of their honest faces — one broad smile, as I

held it up for their admiration — and M- said,

*^ We are so pleased you like it."

Another man said to me, in a low, confidential
tone, " You '11 be glad to hear that when Paget and
George met this morning at the works, they shakes
hands, and speaks as friends each time they passes."

It was, indeed, a cause of thankfulness to God,
that He made the generous impulse of those two
noble natures a lasting principle. From that day
they were friends.

In the course of the same week, I heard that some
of the navvies were almost starving, the heavy snow
having prevented them from carrying on their work
since Christmas Eve. I found great difficulty in

46 HONEST HEARTS.

making them acknowledge their distress. Henry
Hunns said, " What's the good of telling you? you've
done too much already." A soup ticket was sent to
tall George, amongst others. Meeting him afterwards,
1 inquired if he had received it. " Yes, thank ye" —
and he was passing on. "And did you get your
soup? " " No, ma'am ; there was none left when I got
to the kitchen." " What f o d have you had to-day ?"
" None." "What had you yesterday?" " Bits. Bill
and Tol gave me. I must have starved but for them "'

I wrote an order for some beef-steak and a loaf for
him. A hearty " thank ye" followed ; but weak to
the warmth of his reply when I said, " George, I
was so much pleased to hear that you and Paget met
again as friends on Monday, I was praying that you
might, as I awoke on Monday morning ; and above
and beyond all, that you might be friends with your
God and Saviour. That is what I long for."

" I know you do" — and the tears filled his eyes ;
'^ I know ye care for our souls."

On the following Sunday morning, Henry Hunns
met me, with his face more than usually bright. " Well,
Henry, I hope you are going to have a holy, happy
Sunday."

" I hope I am. I think I went the right way to
work for it, please God. I began it comfortable."

" How did you begin it ?"

" I got up at a quarter past ^yGj and came down

HONEST HEARTS. 47

and sat by the candle to read my new Bible, and got
a good long bit alone with my God, and felt peaceable-
like."

The distress amongst the Kail way men continued
through the week, and rather increased, although a
change in the weather had enabled them to resume
their work. But tiie wages were not due until Satur-
day afternoon, and at very few of the shops could any-
thing be obtained on trust by comparative strangers.
I had understood that the wages would be paid daily
for a few days, in consequence of the distress from
the long frost. But on calling at Gibbons' lodging-
house, I found that George had gone to bed supper-
less the night before, and to work without a breakfast;
so we had a grand soup-making immediately arranged
for the whole set of unfed workers during the re-
mainder of that week, by means of the kind help
of the Mr Wilkinsons ; with additional meals sup-
plied for those who had been prevented by illness or
other accidents from laying by anything for a time
of need. They seemed more than half-pained by
having to accept it. ^'It do seem so!" said Henry
Hunns, " to live on gentlefolks in this way."

One cold dark evening, as I was walking down the
hill into the village, a man who was going in the
opposite direction, turned round, and walked in the
road on a lino with my position in the path. Just
as I was going to cross to the other side, he said,

4S HONEST HEARTS.

" Not there, ma'am ; you '11 be up to your knees in
tlie snow-drift." It was Henry Ilunns, who knew
my step, and thought he had better take care of me.
He went with me to the sick people whom I was on
my way to visit, and then begged to be permitted to
carry a lantern to light me back to the Rectory. He
was walking silently up the hill, when suddenly his
thoughts burst forth in the exclamation, "It's the
happiest • life for a man to live — to live for God — ■
even if there were no heaven."

Thus had this young reckless one, by the teaching
of the Holy Spirit, learned to say, with David, " I
had rather be a door-keeper in the house of my G od,
than to dwell in the tents of wickedness."

From the day when the treaty of ]3eace was con-
cluded between Paget and tall George, I had noticed
an increased earnestness in Paget's manner at the read-
ings. One evening he came to the Rectory to tell me
of the cure of his rheumatism which Mr Williams'
remedies had effected. After duly discussing this
subject, we went on to other matters j and, whilst
speaking earnestly to him, I saw his head sink down
so low behind the hat he held in his hand, that I
fancied he had fallen asleep. But when at last he
raised it, I could see why ho had hidden it, and had
not answered two or three questions as to his faith in
the Saviour's love to his soul, and the response in his
own heart. His face was wet with tears.

HONEST HEARTS. 49

A few days after this, Mary E told me that

another man, who was slightly intoxicated, had sworn
terribly at Paget ; but that Paget had held his peace,
and only said quietly afterwards, ^' I can't swear now;
and it makes me sick to hear it."

During the dangerous illness of my beloved sister,
the sympathy of the navvies was peculiarly delicate
and true. They sent two or three of their number,
as A kind of deputation, every evening, to inquire
about her j and met for prayer concerning her, when
I was unable to leave her room. One day 1 had a

visit from a young man, named Edward Gr , whom

my sister had met at some distance from Beckenham,
wandering — he knew not whither, with two fingers
of his right hand crushed, and whom she had brought
back, to provide him with board and lodging until
he was able to go to work again. I told him that I
had felt rather surprised that he had not sooner been
amongst those who came personally to inquire after
hex. Tears started to his eyes.

" It wasn't that I didn't mind. I waited and
watched for them as came, to ask how she were ; but
I didn't like to come to the house. I have been going
on pretty middling badly of late, till just lately."

" What made you change just lately ? "

" Why, I did not like to be going on so, whilst she
lay ill." There was wonderful feeling in his voice
and eyes as he said it.

D

50 HONEST HEARTS.

" What is your besetting snare, Edward ? "

"Evil companions, and going along with them.
You see I 'm lively ; and when they come alongside of
me and jeer, I jeer back ; and my spirits carry me
off."

"But Henry Hunns is lively enough, isn't he?
And yet he is trying to live like a Christian."

" Henry Hunns is quiet-lively now. I a'most
think I like it better. He's a changed man. I think
I '11 go along with him more than I have done."

Two or three weeks afterwards, a lecture on che-
mistry, with entertaining experiments, was delivered
in the schoolroom. I gave Edward a shilling to pay
for tickets for himself and Henry Hunns. He could
not find Henry in time for the lecture, so he made
use of the second sixpence for tobacco — having no
money of his own till the week's wages were due.
Meanwhile, I had met Henry, and fearing that he
might be too late, had given him another ticket.
Two or three days afterwards, when Henry inquired
what had become of the sixpence, Edward told him
he should settle about it with me. Accordingly, one
evening in the following week, he came to the Kectory
to speak to me about it. I said, " I should have been
better pleased, Edward, if you had asked my leave
to borrow it. You know how gladly I would have
lent or given it to you."

" Yes, I do ; and that 's what makes me sorry

HONEST HEARTS. 51

I spent it without your leave. But I meant to return
it."

" Still, to borrow without leave is first cousin to
stealing, is it not ? "

" Well, I think it 's closer than that. But I 've
brought it with me now. Here it is."

It went to my heart to have to take it ; yet I felt
that the lesson of rigid honesty must be taught. It
would have burnt a hole in my purse ; so I brought
the Connemara Orphan box, and told him about little
orphans being fed, clothed, and taught, for two pounds
a-year each ; and asked if he would like to have a
fortieth share of the pleasure of supporting one. He
smiled, and said, " Yes, indeed ! but the sixpence is
not mine. I haven't a right to the pleasure of drop-
ping it in,"

" But I give it you, to do as you like with it."
He then put it in, with cordial delight.

About the same time, I was much distressed to
hear that a young married man, of whom I had hoped
better things, had gone away in a state of intoxica-
tion. It was a subject of grief, and of prayer also,
at the cottage reading. A stout young navvy,
named Samuel Bush, said, " Don't you remember,
ma'am, when you first saw me, I was just like he.

52 HONEST HEARTS.

Next day you saw me sober j and asked me to come to
a reading. I thought I wasn't fit, but you persuaded
me ; and for five weeks past, now, I 've kept sober —
but only by praying hard whenever I see a public."

Young James was one of the summer tea-
party whom we had not seen since that time. He
had left, whilst we were in Ireland, to work as a
bricklayer in Essex, and on his return to this neigh-
bourhood had found work about four miles hence.
From his elder brother, William, he had heard that
I had expressed a wish to see him again, and walked
over, in consequence, one evening. He seemed
touched by hearing that he had been remembered by
name, in prayer, for so long a time ; and as we rose
from our knees, his eyes were cast down, and I saw
it was to hold back the tears. " I '11 come to the
reading to-morrow night," said he at last, "let it
be ever so. I never thought when I went back to
Essex that I should be asked for again, nor prayed
for, like a child from home."

The next evening, William called to express his
thanks for the kind words to his brother. I besought
him to make sure of his own happiness by accepting
at once God's free offer of salvation through Jesus
Christ ; and told him that if a man did not close with
it when his heart was softened, it would grow harder
than ever soon afterwards. He said Avith quivering
lips, " I desire to do so."

HONEST HEARTS. 53

He seemed, as William G used to express it,

'^Id great earnest about his soiil." He said he ^^ had
been a pretty regular church-goer before he came to
Beckenham — but never had a pleasure in it before."
And he added, " those cottage readings seem to make
me love my church and my Bible better, and matter-
stand more about them both."

CHAPTER IV.

" The pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window
opened towards the sun-rising. The name of the chamber whx
Peace ; where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke aiK;

aaiig-^

' Where am I now ?— Ts tliis the love and care
Of Jesns, for tlie men that pilgrims are,
Thus to provide ! 'J'hat I should be forgiven.
And dwell already the next door to heaven.'"

Early in the year 1 854, one of the Crystal Palace
men, who lodged at Norwood, came to Beckenham
to ask for an hospital ticket, as he believed he had an
affection of the chest. We provided him with board
and lodging at one of the cottages for a week, that
he might have the kind and skilful medical attendance
of Mr Williams of Bromley. He was then sent to
one of the hospitals in London- Six weeks after-
wards, he called to say that he was well enough to
go to work again. He added that he had thought
a good deal, whilst in hospital, of what he had heard
at the readings he had attended during his short stay
in Beckenham, and had talked to the other men in
his ward about it, especially to one who was dying.
This man had aroused him, one night, by suddenly
exclaiming, " Oh ! I am dying — I am dying —
where am I going?"

John N rose, and went to the side of the sick

man's bed, and asked, " What is your hope, for
getting to heaven ?"

" Well, I have done no murder, nor wronged my
neighbour."

58 HAPPS- DYING.

" But that is not enough," said John. " I used
to think so ; but just of late, I 've learned different.
I've got a bit of a printed letter to us Exhibition
workmen, Avhich tells the whole story, and I '11 tell it

to you. It says, ^ I AM A LOST SINNER, — I HAVE A

GRACIOUS Saviour.' And a card of prayer which
came with it says, ^ My sins are very many, and
only Christ's blood can wash them away.'"*

The poor man begged him to repeat the whole of
the short prayer to him again and again, until he had
learned it.

* TO THE WORKMEN OF THE CRYSTAL PALACB.

Feiends and Neigebouks,— You are buiULUij a wonderful edifice, and
we hope that it will be for the welfare, and not for the injury, of the
people of Great Britain. You have witnessed a fearful accident. Oh I
let it lead you to two thoughts,

I AM A LOST SINNEE, —
I HAVE A GRACIOUS SAVIOUR ;

And let every one of you lift up your hearts and say,—

LORD JESUS, SAVE ME, —
GIVE ME THY HOLY SPIRIT.

Let U3 beg of you to read the Word of God daily ; and never let a day
pass in which you look at the Crystal Palace without praying God to give
you a ** house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

C M .

Almighty God ! x»rdon all my past sins ; they are very many, and
only Christ's blood can wash them away. Turn me, by the power of
Thy Holy Spirit, from all my evil ways. Give me a iiew heart, guide
and direct me in the right way, and help me to live a new and holy life.
I ask these things in the name and for the sake of Jesus Christ.
Amen.

HAPPY DYING. 59

Two or three times the next day he begged John
to read to him out of his New Testament ; and in the
night he died — repeating almost with his last breath,
" Mj sins are very many, and only Christ's blood
can wash them away."

A stranger, named Henry Randall, called one day
to ask for an hospital ticket. He said the ladies at the
Rectory had sent him a letter and a card of prayer ;
and so he thought he might come to them in his
trouble. He then shewed the printed letter and
prayer sent to each of the 3000 workmen at the
Crystal Palace, as his credentials. We sent him to

board at James? W 's, whilst we waited for a

ticket from a subscriber to one of the London hospi-
tals. When it was all arranged, James brought him
to the Rectory to say good-bye. After giving him a
Testament and some little books and other small pre-
sents, with a few words of advice, I was parting with
him, when James stepped back and said, " I hope
it 's not a liberty, ma'am, but would you have a bit of
a prayer with him ? I don't much think you or I will
ever see him again alive."

It touched my heart to be kept up to my duty by
a navvy — six months before, a dninkard !

A year afterwards, my sister and I received a letter
by post from a poor woman, requesting us to visit
her dying husband at Norwood. The signature and
address were indistinctly written, so that we had

60 HAPPY DYING.

some difficulty in tracing them. When at last we
entered their cottage, it was Henry Eandall who
stretched out both his emaciated hands, with the
words, " Oh, I am so happy ! I wanted to see you,
to tell you that I am so happy in Jesus Christ."

In the course of the visit, he told us that during
the time he was in the hospital, he had remembered
the words said to him as he left the Kectory, " You
have heard of a Saviour now ; tell the sick and dying
around you of that Saviour. Remember His own
words, in the last chapter in the Bible, ^ Let him that
heareth say, Come.' " At once he offered to read the
Bible every evening to the ward, which was willingly
accepted. He believed that God had blessed this
reading of His Word to two men who had died there.
" Yet," he said, " I had not found Christ when I
asked them to come to Him. I was only seeking Him.
Now I have found Him, and He is my own Saviour.
He has washed away my sins in His own blood. He
has given me life by His death. He has opened
heaven to me. My nights of pain and coughing used
to seem so long ; now they are too short for praising
my Saviour, and enjoying His presence."

During two months of lingering sufferings, he
continued " rejoicing in hope," and then quietly fell
asleep in Jesus, " the life of them that believe, and
the resurrection of the dead."

He was buried in the cemetery at Norwood ; and

HAPPY DYING. t51

by his dying request to his wife, the first letter he
had received, telling him of a Saviour's love, was
buried with him. He said he should lik i to awake
up with it in his hand at the morning of uie Besur-
r^ction.

CHAPTER V.

Footprints, that perhaps another*
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

9caie forlorn and shipwreck'd brothtTf
deeing, shall take heart agua."

About this time I remarked that Thomas Dibley, a
navvy of about eight-and-twenty years of age, had
become regular in his attendance at church and at
the cottage readings; and from his earnest coun-
tenance, it was easy to see that his heart was
awakening to the solemn importance of beginning a
new life.

Desirous of knowing what was passing in his
mind, I asked him to carry my lantern for me one
evening after a cottage reading. As he was walking
by my side, he suddenly exclaimed, " I thank God
I ever came here ! "

" Do you believe, Thomas, that God has really
changed your heart, and has given you His Holy
Spirit, so as to make you believe in your Saviour's
love to you, and to enable you to wish to love and to
live to Him wholly ? "

" I do believe He has changed me. I do believe
in the Lord Jesus Christ's willingness to save me,
and I wish to live to Him." He could not add
another word, and walked away from the Rectory

E

66 FEARS AND HOPES.

gate, without saying, "Good-night" — but ran back
before I had reached the house, to say, " God bless
you, ma'am.'

The next evening, he came for an hour's earnest
conversation. He mentioned that the first serious
thought he had ever had about his eternal salvation
was when I had ventured to enter the supper-room of
a beer-shop in the village, to invite the lodgers to
come to an evening lecture of Mr Chalmers' in the
schoolroom, and to attend the services in church on
Sunday. A short prayer was then written in a Tes-
tament, and given to him ; the words of which he
pleaded that night : — " O GOD, WASH ME FEOM ALL
MY SINS IN MY SAVIOUR'S BLOOD, AND I SHALL
BE WHITER THAN SNOW. FiLL ME WITH THE HOLY

GHOST, FOR JESUS CHRIST'S sake. Amen."
From that time he continued to kneel down, night
and morning, tc pray its brief words, and then he
read a few verses of his Testament. The next Sun-
day he came to church, and afterwards attended the
services and the cottage readings regularly.

" In three weeks," he added, with a thankful smile,
"my little prayer had pulled me up so far that I
could not bear lodging at a beer-shop, nor to miss
going to the house of God twice of a Sunday. But now,
I do hope it is agoing to strike at my heart as well
as my life. I think it has, I think God is hearing
my prayer, and pardoning my sins, and making me

FEAKS AND HOPES. 67

wish to belong to the Lord Jesus Christ and His
people." He added that, before he had removed to
a quiet cottage, from the time he had begun to pray,
the conversation he heard around him at supper-time
had become so painful to him, that he used to take
his bit of supper and eat it out of doors, and stay
there until it was time to go to bed.

I asked him if he had not had a good mother ;
for I thought all this must be the answer to a pious
mother's prayers. He hid his face in his hands, and
said, ^^ She was a tender-hearted woman, and taught
me a prayer when I was little, and sent me to
school, Sundays and week-days. She died four years
ago, when I was four-and-twenty. She was a good
mother,''''

James W returned to his work in the month of

February, after a long illness, accompanied with much
suffering. At the close of his first day's work, he
looked so worn and faint, that 1 insisted on his rest-
ing a week or ten days longer, and, with the help of
a friend, enabled him to do so. He came to the
E-ectory one morning for conversation. Seldom have
I more enjoyed half an hour's communion of spirit.
He said that, whilst he was laid by with great suffer-
ing in his knee and leg, his soul was lifted up with joy
in believing. ^' I felt that Christ was my own, and
that we two should never part — for He bought me
with a price. But now I have got back into life

68 FEARS AND HOPES.

and the world again, I feel so fainty-like in my body,
as if I should go right off, and it is nigh as bad with
my soul I fear I may go right off from Jesus. I
find my love to my good Saviour is so little, it
a'most daunts me."

" But would you give up that little for anything
in this world?"

"Not to be a king! And oh, I do love Him
dearly ! only it is such pitiful love by the side of His
great love to me. Pray God give me better and more
in my heart."

He thought he ought to go to his home (in a village
in Berkshire), if he did not get strong enough for work
soon. ''- Parish and old friends might do a little for
me. But I did so wish to live and die at Becken-
ham. Anyhow, if the Lord Avould give me strength
for a bit, it would be a great thing. I owe a debt
or two ; and now I am a Christian, I should not like
to leave in debt. I pray about it, and I believe the
Lord will raise me up for it."

Ten days afterwards, he was enabled to resume his
work.

Shortly after this conversation, James W called

again, and seemed unwilling to communicate the
object of his visit. At length he said, he would be
so very sorry to vex me — did I think I could bear it ?
I asked anxiously what he meant.

" AVell ; it 's about Henry Hunns."

FEABS AND HOPES. (J9

" If it is anything bad of him, I do not think I can
bear it, James. I have so rejoiced over him. But
you had better tell me at once ; for I do not believe
there can be much to say against him."

" He bid me come and break it to you. He 's
been to a public-house."

" But he has not given way to drinking, has
he?"

" Not been insensible-like, but bad enough; and
yet it wasn't his fault, over and above going in at all.
Perhaps you don't know that he used to go very often

to a public-house at , before he got changed ; and

the landlord of it said the other day he'd make him
drunk, as sure as he was alive, because Henry had left
off drinking, and grown religious. So, as he passes by,
two young men stands there — one of them calls out,
' Henry, treat us to a mug. You're grown rather near
of late.' And you know, ma'am, to us navvies to be
called near is as bad as murder a'most. So Henry
stops still. And then the landlord says, ^ I 've a kind
of ale that 's very good, I 'd like you to taste it. Red
Neck ' (that's the name he goes by, because of that
long red comforter he always wears, cold and hot).
So landlord goes in and brings a mug, and Henry
goes in and tosses it off. And all in a minute he
feels it in his head, and knows landlord has drugged
it tc make him drunk. And Henry said it was a
judgment on him foi going into temptation again,

70 FEARS AND HOPES.

and that he deserved the trick and the disgrace it has
brought. And he wanted to come and tell you on it ;
but he said he had not cheek enough. So I said,
she won't scold you, Henry; 'taint her way with us.
And he said, ^ No ; I'm not afraid of that. But it 's
them two tears I can't abear. They came in her
eyes when I told her I had got drunk when I was
with the militia last autumn, and she told me she
was afeard of my falling away out of the right path.
And I said to myself, I 'd never make them tears
come again. But it will be worse now that I 've
gone on straight so long, and received the sacrament,
and shall bring a scandal on it all now.' And it
made the poor boy so miserable, he couldn't go to
his work."

I told James that I must see Henry, so that he
had better send him that evening. He came accord-
ingly, looking wretched — his eyes swollen with cry-
ing. "It's a bad business," he said at once. "I
had better not think of going to the sacrament to-
morrow ; but I did so wish it ; " and then came a
fresh burst of tears. After a few words of mine, he
replied, " Yes, ye see, that 's just what I mind so bad.
It brings a disgrace on the name of the blessed Saviour,
now I 'm called after Him — a Christian." He stayed
for the meeting of those who intended to partake of
the Lord's Supper next day, and seemed full of heavi-
ness.

FEAIiS AND HOPES. 71

On Sunday morning, lie called again, before the
morning service ; and said, " I think He would for-
give me, and even let me come to His table to-day.
But it would do hurt to others' souls — so I won't do
it. I '11 not go back to my dinner, though. I '11 walk
about in a quiet way after church, and read my Bible ;
and wish I was along of them that go up."

We shewed him the quiet shrubbery walk, where
he might take his Bible and read, undisturbed, for
which he was thankful ; and he seemed more com-
posed afterwards. On Monday evening, we had the
51st Psalm at' the cottage reading. I was disap-
pointed by not seeing Henry there, at first; but a
few minutes afterwards, the door opened with a pecu-
liar suddenness, and somebody came in with a kind
of fling. I was sure it was Henry, and that he was
feeling very awkward and unhappy about what had
passed. After the concluding prayer, I turned round,
and saw that he had been standing the whole time
(for the room was full), and that tears were in his
eyes.

On the next Saturday night, he came to the Eec-
tory, and told me he thought he should never be
happy again. " Ye see the fellows have at me so,
about it — and chaff so about religion ; and what is
worse, I feel away from my God."

" Read the 51st Psalm to-night, on your knees,
Henry, and turn it into prayer."

'of THX

'ir»I7BRSITT]

72 PEAKS AND HOPES.

" I Ve done it every night since you read it on
Monday at the cottage ; but I '11 try it again. I won't
give up my hope, please God, without a pull for it."

On Sunday, he had his joyous face again ; only it
was more seriously and humbly joyful in its expres-
sion than before. He said he had spent nearly two
hours alone with his God and his Bible, before the
other inhabitants of the house where he lodges had
awaked that morning. " And peace has come back
to me," he said ; " only with it a fear lest I should
drive it away again. So I have asked God to keep
it for me."

I had heard a high character in the village oi

young Kichard B , and had noticed his attention

at the cottage readings. When I remarked this to
him, he said he might well listen — those readings had
made him go to church and read his Bible, and try to
live a new life. I asked him if he had yet found
peace in believing that his sins were forgiven him,
for the blessed Saviour's name's sake ? He said, " I
believe they are. He 's so willing to do it, if we ask
heartily."

1 found he had laid by a considerable sum of
money, and yet had contrived to send a handsome
present to his parents.

FEARS AND HOPES. 73

Another young man, whom I met returning from
his work, early in the spring of that year, told mo
that he had never entered a place of worship! I
could not persuade him to go to church at first, hut
he came to a "reading," and after it was over, said
he should like to come again, and bring his " mate,"
which he did regularly from that time.

During the weeks that had elapsed from the peace
made between Paget and George, the latter had been
constant in his attendance at the readings. But one
Sunday night, towards the end of February, he was
missing. I heard that he had gone to Croydon, and
had my fears as to the manner in which he would
spend his Sabbath evening there. On Monday even-
ing, I sent to his lodgings, to ask if he would like to
come to the Rectory, and to carry my lantern to the
cottage. As this was a little gratification much
thought of amongst these kind-hearted and truly
courteous men, I was surprised that he did not appear.
On my way, I called at the lodging-house. George
did not look up from the supper-table, where he was
sitting, but said, in a low voice, that he had not long
come back. " Then," said I, " you must not leave
your supper to come to the reading. Those who
work ought to eat."

" I will come, though — it 's better than supper ; "
and he rose up, with two others, to accompany me.

The next day, I called at the same house, to see a

74 FEARS AND HOPES.

sick child. The landlady said, " George was sadly
put about by your message, ma'am. He was led
away to drink a little too much when he went to
spend Sunday evening with his cousin at Croydon,
and it troubled his mind all yesterday. And when
the message came, he said, ^ No, no, I can't go. To
be walking by her side, as if this hadn't happened ;
I couldn't do it, and I don't deserve to be treated so
kindly again.' And what vexes him worse still, is,
you see he had become so changed of late — never
swearing now, and asking the others to leave it off ;
and one throws it at him that he 's a saint ; and he
says, ^ No, I 'm not. But I wish I were. It may
come to you, Joe, some day, to feel what I feel now ;
and I wish it would.' And now, all this grieves him
so, lest he should have done a harm to their souls ;
and last night, after he came home from the reading,
he told them how ashamed he was of himself, and
said he prayed God it might not so fall out again."

The little boy in the house had been seized with
croup in the night, and thought that he should die.
" Oh, mother," he said, '^ I 'm frightened to go before
such a good God!" Then suddenly he added, " But
I have prayed to Him to make me a better boy; and
mother, there 's the navvies' prayer that they pray
beside their beds in the next room." And then the
little child knelt up in his bed, and, amidst paroxysms
of coughing, prayed, ^' O God, wash me from all my

FEAES AND HOPES. 75

Sins in my Saviour's blood, and I shall be whiter than
snow." Almost directly afterwards, with the sim-
plicity of childhood's eager faith, he said, " Now,
mother, I need not mind dying, because I am washed,
you see, in that blood of Jesus Christ."

Information having reached me, that some new

lodgers had come to 's beershop, I ventured to

visit the strangers' supper-room again, to invite them
to Mr Chalmers' schoolroom service. After a little
conversation, four men promised to go, and kept their

word. Charles S , who had begun to attend

the readings a short time before, was standing near
the lane which led to a small inn, with the sign of
" The Coach and Horses," kept by his father.
He came forward to tell me that there was a large
party of lodgers in their great kitchen, and that his
mother and he would go into the circle with me, if I
would like to speak to them. Under this escort I
went with great comfort. The strangers listened
respectfully ; but not one promised to attend. How-
ever, about ten minutes after the service had com-
menced, a trampling of heavy shoes upon the newly-
shingled path announced the arrival of " The Coach
and Horses." Our new friends had '^thought better
of it," and had followed us.

William and James came to the Rectory after-
wards, for conversation and advice. James shewed
me his well-worn card of prayer, which he said had

7fi FEARS AND HOPES.

never left his pocket since the day he had received it,
excepting when he took it out each night and morn-
ing, to remind himself to use it. William said that
he kept his Testanient and card of prayer on a little
table by his bed, that he might remember to read and
pray the last thing at night and the first in the morn-
ing. I begged them to be firm in not missing the
Sunday morning service, because it was best to begin
the day with God; and a morning at home was seldom
so spent as to be a good preparation for the afternoon
service. William said " he had found that out, and
wished to come regularly of a morning." He begged
me to write down on a card the passage of Scripture
quoted to him, " If thou turn away thy foot from the
Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day;
and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the LoED,
honourable ; and shalt honour him, not doing thine
own ways, nor finding thine own pleasure, nor speak-
ing thine own words : then shalt thou delight thyself
in the Loed ; and I will cause thee to ride upon the
high places of the earth — for the mouth of the Lord
hath spoken it."

One Sunday morning, I met Henry Hunns, gaily
dressed in a blue jacket, blue cap, red tie, and white
trousers, as a sort of anticipation of summer on a
bitterly cold day in February- Without waiting to
speak to me, he rushed into a cottage, and brought
out a fine little boy of three years old, the child of

FEARS AND HOPES. 77

his sister, who had just arrived with her hushand
from Norfolk. ^^ I am going to take him to church
now," said Henry. " He is young for that," I
replied. "Yesj I like him to learn his duty be-
times." As they walked by my side to the churcli,
he remarked, " I suppose we militia men will soon
be called out now to defend the country, as the
regulars are off. I don't mind about going, so much,
now that I hope I 've learnt Who I can look to, to
teach and strengthen me."

Some strangers were lingering about the village
street, who had succeeded the previous day in obtain-
ing the promise of work at the Crystal Palace. They
were glad to hear of the evening reading, having no
Sunday clothes wherewith to make their appearance
in church to their own satisfaction. The navvy has a
peculiar enjoyment in being cleanly and well-dressed
on Sunday. These strangers expressed great delight
when Testaments were given, after the "reading" was
over, to all who had not yet received them. All the
men from "The Coach and Horses" were present.
One of them, a lad of eighteen, gladly promised to
teach the short prayer to those who could not read ;

and Charles S said that this youth had borrowed

a Bible belonging to his mother, the landlady, to
read to the rest, after supper, the last few evenings.

On the way home, I saw a young man sitting at
the door of a lodging-house ; and, after a few remarks

78 PEAES AND HOPES.

to him about the place, inquired whether he had
attended either service in church that day ?

" No. I never go to such a place."

" Will you tell me why you do not?"

" Because it would do me no good."

" Do you read your Bible?"

" No. That would do me no good neither."

" Shall I tell you whr.t would do you good?" He
looked up. " If you and I pray every day that God
would fill you with His Holy Spirit. I will pray it
for you, by God's help, if you will promise to pray it
for yourself."

His lip trembled, as he slowly and earnestly
replied, " I will."

CHAPTER VI.

"And some of them of trnderstanding shall fall, to try them, and to
purge and to make them white, even to the time of the end, because it
is yet for a time appointed."

It was towards the close of the month of March that
a dark shadow fell upon the heart-cheering work
which had hitherto, by the grace of God, been made
to prosper in our hands.

One Monday morning, Mary E came to tell

me a miserable story, which made my whole heart
cold with disappointment and distress. On Sunday

afternoon, Martha W had asked her husband not

to go to church, but to take a walk with her, instead.
He told her that he would go with the greatest pleasure
after service, but could not " miss his church." She
became irritated, and spoke bitterly of his " church-
going ways." This was renewed at tea-time, until
at length his spirit was stung ; and he said in his
anger, " Then I '11 throw away my religion alto-
gether, and you shall have a drunkard again for your
husband."

His fearful word was kept, that night. The next
day his misery and shame were so great, that he drank
again, to drown remembrance and remorse. News
of this, also, reached me on my way to the reading.

F

82 WANDERERS RECLAIMED.

I went to his cottage, and found his wife alone with
her babjj in an agony of remorse and fear. She had
heard that he had been seen last on his way to a
reservoir, a few miles distant, and believed he might
be tempted to drown himself, to avoid the shame of
returning to Beckenham — the scene of his new life
and holy happiness, and then of his grievous fall. She
saw so clearly her sin and folly, and the wreck thus
made of the happy home with which God had blessed
her for many a month past, that there was little need
for me to add to her misery by pointing it out.

The cottage rooms that night were more than usually
crowded. But the loss of that happy face of James

W from his accustomed place, with a haunting

fear lest I should never see him here again, or see
him happy hereafter, and a whisper that Henry
Hunns had been likewise led astray, overwhelmed me,
and at the close of the thirteenth verse of the eighth
of Komans, my voice failed.

They all looked up in consternation, and then I
told them that two men amongst them, whom I had
known longest, and of whom I had almost the best
hope, had gone astray like lost sheep, having been
taken captive by the devil, at his will.

There were very fervent voices joining in prayer
that night. On my way from the cottage, I found
them waiting in groups to say " God bless you," or
" please take heart again," in low, kind tones, as I

WANDEREKS RECLAIMED. 83

passed. Near James W 's cottage door, I saw

Henry Hunns leaning against a wall, looking heavy
and unhappy. I spoke to him strongly of his sin ; and

then asked him if he had seen James W . He

said, " Yes — in a tavern at Penge, half an hour ago."

Mrs W said she would go and fetch him home.

Knowing that it would not be safe for her to meet him
alone, in a stata of intoxication, as they had parted

with a quarrel, I told her to accept Mary E 's kind

proposal of accompanying her, with Isaac K for

an escort, as he had become so steady as to be safely
intrusted with such an enterprise.

They found him where Henry said he had
seen him, surrounded by about thirty or forty of the
navvies who were lodging in that neighbourhood,
and succeeded in leading him home. At half-past
seven the next morning, I walked to his cottage.
Five minutes more, and he would have left Becken-
ham, never to return. He was just looking his last
at his little boy. But even that did not soften his
heart. His face was so changed that it was difficult
to recognise him. A possessing spirit had altered the
expression of every feature.

My heart sunk so low that I could not speak at
first. When I did, he would neither look up, nor
answer a single question. No appeal to past expe-
rience had any effect. At last he said, " I have given
it all up. I have sold my soul for drink — and all

84 WANDERERS RECLAIMED.

through rage and revenge. There remains no more
pardon for me — nor would I seek it if there was."

Nearly an hour passed. There was no softening.
Never before had I so learnt my own utter powerless-
ness to influence the soul of another. All the powers
of darkness seemed leagued against my feebleness.
There was but one hope left. I knelt down and
poured out my heart in prayer that God the Holy
Spirit would drive out the Evil Spirit, and take pos-
session of that soul again. He would not kneel, but
seemed somewhat touched. " You have been like a
mother to me," he said. "If anybody could per-
suade another out of sin, you would persuade me.
But it is done — past hope. I am going now, for
ever, from my wife and Beckenham, and from you,
and from my God."

He rose to go. I took his wife by the hand, and
led her to him, and told him of her grief and peni-
tence for her great sin, whereby she had stirred
up his. And then Martha wept, and said, "Oh,
James, I will go to church with you every Sunday
henceforth, and be obedient and kind — God helping
me — if you will come back to your God, and forgive
me.

He sat sullenly. I knew then it was " now or
never;" and with the silent prayer, "0 God, help
now ! " I said, " James, give your hand to your wife
now; or you throw back her soul to Satan." He

WANDERERS RECLAIMED. 85

stretched out his hand to her, turned his head aside,
and wept.

Two evenings afterwards, on my way for a class of
navvies who had met to read on the subject of the
Lord's Supper, I called again. James met me with
tears and blessings. ^' You saved me, then, by the
help of God. But my sin has been grievous." Of
course he did not attend the class that night. Henry
Hnnns was lodging in the house where it was held.
He hid himself in the back room. I spoke sorrowfully
to him for a short time afterwards. Thomas Dibley
carried my lantern home. I asked him if, as he

returned, he could spare time to see James W

and read him the chapter we had just been reading —
Ephesians v. He did so. On Saturday night I
found those two reading it again. James pointed
out the words '^ nor foolish talking nor jesting, which
are not convenient" — adding, ^' all that condemns
me. It has always been the beginning of evil with
me."

Just before I left the Eectory that evening, Henry
Hunns called to see me. He hid his face in his
hands and sobbed, " It has been down hill almost

ever since I was 'ticed into that public-house at ,

nigh six weeks ago. I have gradually grown colder to
the things of God, and not thought so hard of sinj
and then came this fall."

"Who led you into it?"

86 WANDERERS RECLAIMED.

"My own evil heart. I've no cause to n^ention

others ; only it wasn't James W , and needn't

have been anybody, if I hadn't been sinful enough
to yield."

His grief was great, and there seemed a clearer
view of the injury to the cause of God, and the real
personal wrong he had done to his Saviour, than
even in James's mind. " I have wept bitterly every
night since it happened," he said.

The genuine and deep repentance of that poor
young man — brought up, as he had been, without a
single religious advantage — taught me a lesson!
When the balance shall be struck between small
sins (so called) with great privileges, in the one scale j
— and crying sins with few responsibilities, in the
other scale — who shall say that infinite justice may
not see deeper guilt in the unkind word, the uncharit-
able suspicion, the selfish act, and other manifestations
of an un-Christ-like spirit, in which Christians are too
often tempted to indulge, than in the more glaring
departures from the law of God of those who have but
just begun to hear of a Saviour's love, and to know
anything of its constraining power.

When I told Henry that he might carry my lantern
by my side down the village, his countenance ex-
pressed great surprise, and he said, " What, after all,
will you let me?" At the door of the cottage where
the men who gave me the basket on New Year's Day

WANDERERS RECLAIMED. 87

were to meet me for each to receive the gift of a well-
bound Bible, I bade Henry " good night." " May I
not wait for you, ma'am?" " It is Saturday night,
Henry, and you have some shopping to do." " I can
get all I want, and come back again." He was " in
waiting" as usual, when I came out of the cottage;
so I walked home, with the returning wanderer by
my side, thanking God, with an overflowing heart,
for this fresh fulfilment of His own promise, " I will
he? \ their backsliding, I will love them fireely ; for
m'-.ie anger is turned away from him."*

In the evening, something of his old brightness
shone in his eyes, as he entered the cottage, after
having attended the school-room service. But on the
way back, he said, " I'm not a bit happier, beyond
for a time, when I can forget it all. I'm very
miserable."

" But do you not believe in these words, " If we
confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us
our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."
And " the blood of Jesus Christ, his Son, cleanseth
us from all sin."

" I believe in my head, but not in my heart."

I saw the conviction of sin was very deep, and
felt it v/as Avell not to disturb it ; only to suggest the
remedy, and to trust to the Holy Spirit to apply it,
with power, in His own time.

• Hosea, xir. 4.

88 WANDEREES RECLAIMED.

The next evening, James W began again to

attend the readings. He did not venture into his old
place, but took a seat at the furthest corner of the
room. His whole countenance and manner were
remarkably subdued. Thomas Dibley said to me
afterwards, "James feels his sin wonderful."

Shortly afterwards, during a few days' absence
from Beckenham, I received the following letter in
Henry Himns' handwriting : —

•' April 23, 1854.

" Dear Friend, — ^With sorrow I write these few
lines to you for dissgracing myself and setting a bad
example to the other young beginers but I hope it
will pleas God to forgive me all past sins, and blot
out all my iniquities, and give me firmer faith to stand
against the sin that so easily besetts me ; but I will
pray to God with my whole heart to strengthen me,

and James W too. I know it will be a great

temtation for me when I am in the militia for I
expect we shall all have to be in different public-
houses but I must not doubt, but trust in the Lord,
for I know He can keep me from it but I must
pray more earnestly than I have done these few
weeks past. I have gave way a great deal to the
devil ; but the Scripture says to him, ' So far shalt
thou go, and no farther' and may the Holy Spirit
of God keep me and James W in the know-

WANDERERS RECLAIMED. 89

ledge and fear of God and our Saviour Jesus Christ,
and all that ever come to your kind lectures and
readings and I hope none of them will fall into

temtation the same as me and James W . But I

liope the Lord will not give me over to the devil any
more. I have better faith that He will keep me from
sin now. Me and James have had a comfortable
Sunday morning. The text was, ' Then were the
disciples glad when they saw the Lord.'

" So I conclude, with better faith through Jesus
Christ our Lord.

'^ Henry Hunns.
" James W ."

About the same time Jacob K , who had so long

wandered from the good way which he seemed to
have chosen at the first, desired an interview. "I
wished to tell you, ma'am, how very unhappy I
have been. There 's no happiness for me in this
world, if I can't come back to my God."
" What has revived this desire, Jacob ?"
" I went to see a friend at the village of Bedding-
ton, and went to church with him. There I heard a
beautiful sermon on a verse of the psalm that first
spake home to me when I was at sea a few years
ago — the Fifty-first Psalm, and the verse was — ^A
broken and a contrite heart, 0 God, thou wilt not
despise.' Then it kept troubling my heart how to

90 WANDERERS RECLAIMED.

get my spirit broken. But that might have passed

away if it had not been for what James W did.

I never thought James would have gone back like that.
And I said to myself, if the devil gets such power
over him again — him as has walked with his God so
many months, close-like — what will he not do with
me when he gets into me strong ? I haven't touched
a drop of beer since, and I Ve been praying night and
morning."

"And do you also pray for James?"

" Yes, I do ; and he prays for himself, and is sore
sorry."

Wonderful is the overruling power of that gi-ace
which can bring back a wandering sheep even by a
brother's fall, and then raise up the fallen one again,
" To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein
he hath made us accepted in the Beloved ; in whom
we have redemption through his blood, even the for-
giveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace,
wherein he hath abounded towards us in all wisdom
and prudence."

CHAPTER VII.

** He also had a brave victory over his enemy : let Him grant that
dwelleth above that we fare no worse, when we come to be tried, than
he r'-— Pilobim's Prooress.

Whilst waiting for a train at Sydenham Station
one day in the spring of that year, 1 gave some small
books to two young railway men who were standing
on the platform, and asked if they had either a Bible
or a Testament. One replied, " I Ve a little pocket
Testament, and T wouldn't sell it for ever so much —
no, never ! "

" I am glad you prize it so highly."

^* Well, I do ; and the kind friend as gave it me."

"Who gave it to you?"

"You! Nigh a year ago, I lodged at Mrs

D 's in Beckenham ; and you came in twice of

Sunday evenings, and read and talked to us. I
have read my Testament most nights since, and
thought a deal of what you said, and wished I was
back again to hear more. I'm at work in Essex,
and only came down to fetch a mate of mine, as I
didn't know how to direct to. And little did I
think I should light on you, ma'am. It is a plea-
sure indeed."

That short interview was like a wave bringing

94 SELF-CONQUEST.

back, after many days, the bread "cast upon the
waters."

The sensitiveness of these fine natures to every
word of praise or blame from a friend whom they
valued was almost affecting in some cases. Mary

E came to the rectory one evening to tell me

that "Martin had been talcing on terribly, because
one of them had told him at the works that I had
said he was false." On the previous Sunday even-
ing, after the "reading," it so happened that I had
remarked —

"I thought Martin would have been here. He
said he should come, and I thought he was sure to
keep his word."

He had been sent for to visit a sick sister-in-law
at Sydenham, to whom his kindness was most bro-
therly and tender until her death, some weeks later.

Mary E said, "He was broken-hearted when

he heard the men say that you had called him
^ false,' ma'am. He has such a tender spirit. When-
ever a man of his gang falls sick, he sends for Martin
to put his pillow right and say a kind word ; and
many a nice bit of fish or something delicate he buys
for his sister-in-law, now she is ill."

Of course, I lost not a moment in writing him a
letter in printing hand, to tell him the precise words
I had used, and how sorry I felt that even so small
a foundation should have been laid by me for the

SELF-CONQUEST, 95

charge brought against him — adding, that I would
take his word as trustfully as any man's bond.

He stopped after the school-room service was con-
cluded on Thursday evening to thank me, with tears
in his honest eyes. " It was so good of ye, and made
me feel so happy and satisfied — a most proud-like."

Early in the spring, John J came to bid me

good-bye, employment having been offered him in
the neighbourhood of Paddington. He said he had
brought on a terrible disease in his chest by hard
drinking, a year or two before he came to this neigh-
bourhood ; yet when, after much severe suffering, he
had left a London hospital cured, he had gone back
to the evil habit, and never had known how to stop,
until he came to Eeckenham, and went to the read-
ings, and then to church. I said, " If you do not
find your soul cared for, at the place to which you are
going, as mucb %b it K^ been h^-vt, will you come
back again, John ?''

^'Well, that I don't look for, go where I may.
But if I can't stand temptation away from here, I '11
come back."

He had kept his little Testament carefully, yet
bearing signs of having been read ; so I gave him a
small Bible, to his great joy. "I was just thinking
of buying one, but shall love to have this as a part-
ing gift. Please, ma'am, look at Revelation ii. 10,
the end of the verse."

96 SELF-CONQUEST.

I read — " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will
give thee a crown of life."

" A few days after you gave me the Testament, I
happened to open it on those words. What they
have been to me ever since ! God send I may never
forget them!"

He promised to go to church regularly, and added,
" I shall sometimes run over and spend my. Sundays
here. It will be a pleasant ten-mile walk to take at
five in the morning to get a Beckenham Sunday
again, I have so loved my Sundays here."

He, too, had a praying mother.

A few weeks after he had left Beckenham, he
wrote to tell me that he went to church twice every
Sunday — adding, " and in the evening I walk in the
cemetery for quiet, and read the words on some of
the gravestones, being, as there is, no lectures here on
Sunday nights."

He came to Beckenham for Easter Sunday, and,
three months later, wrote the following letter : —

" Dear Friend, — I received your letter on Sunday
morning, and was very glad to hear from you, and a
very comfortable letter it was to me. It gave me
great pleasure on reading it. I will come over next
Sunday, if I can get any-ways. I have been very
ill. I have not done any work these last seven
weeks but thank God I am getting better now. I

SELF-CONQUEST. 97

intend going to work this week if I can. I should
like to see you once more again. I will be sure and
come over next Sunday, if God spares my life. I go
to Westbourne Grove School Monday and Wednesday
night, and I go to St John's Church, Nottinghill,
on Sunday. I have never neglected going to church
since I left your place nor I hope I never shall. I
have had several friends to see me since I have been
ill. I gave them a tract a-piece — what you gave me
when I left. I have not got one left now; but my
Bible, Prayer-book, and Testament I still keep, and
always will. I would sooner part from anything I
have than them. I shall bring them with me when
I come. I have not seen any one but little Charles
that was at Beckenham, and he is listed for a soldier
in the Eifle Brigade. When I met him I had a little
conversation with him, and told him not to forget
his Saviour, who died for him. He told me he
would not. I told him to be steady. He said he
would. I asked him whether he saw you. He told
me he had not since he left. I told him to go to
church when he could : what would it profit a man
if he should gain the whole world and lose his own
soul, or what would he give in exchange for it?
Let him seek the Lord while He may be found, and
call upon him while he is near. ^ Let the wicked for-
sake his ways, and the unrighteous man his thoughts,
and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have
G

98 SELF-CONQUEST.

mercy upon hirrij and to our God, for he will abun-
dantly pardon.' I had a few more words with him.
He said, ^I wish I was like you,' and the tears
flowed in his eyes. I put my hand in my pocket,
and gave him a shilling. He thanked me for it and
for my advice to him, and we both parted, perhaps
never to meet again. 1 shall be over on Sunday
morning by church-time. I have no more to write
this time. So no more from

"John J ."

One Sunday evening, Thomas Dibley asked for
special prayer for a dying friend at Sydenham, whom
he visited daily throughout his illness (of brain fever),
in the hope of being able to speak to him about the
things concerning his peace. " I had such an answer
to prayer, to-diiy," he said. " The delirium ceased
for full ten minutes, and I repeated by him the
prayer that I love so dearly, and made a bit more,
and he caught at it so !"

The next day I found the poor man was quite
clear in his mind, and eager for prayer, and the
readings of God's Word. He had been in the habit
of drinking to excess whilst working in Sweden;
but on the day he landed in England, he deter-
mined to break it off by a desperate effort. Per-
haps he did it too suddenly; but there was some-
thing to be honoured in that effort to reform at any

SELF-CONQUEST. 99

sacrifice. He continued to thirst for the Word of
God and prayer to his last conscious moment. Cap-
tain Vicars' prayer by his side was almost the last he
heard, but his own fevered lips murmured the words
which Thomas Dibley had taught him, almost from
hour to hour, until his death. His " mates" took it
in turn to sit up with him at night, mindless of their
hard work by day; and treasured up every word
which encouraged their hopes that he had found peace
with God upon his dying bed.

About the time that Henry Hunns left for two
months' service in a militia regiment in the spring,
a brother-in-law of his, who had been much opposed
to religion, and had been in the habit of making-
bitter jests at him, came to a cottage-reading, and
asked leave to bring a letter of Henry's to the Rec-
tory for me to read. When he brought it to me,
he said, " I never knew such a changed man as
Henry has been the last half-year. Just look at his
clothes ! " It is an indisputable sign of steadiness
when a navvy replenishes his wardrobe !

William C then spoke of his lovely little baby,

whom I was visiting in its dangerous illness. " As
white as alabaster," he said, *' isn't he? and eyes
like violets. I believe he won't live — he 's too clever
• — knows everything — never sees anything that 's nice
but he cries for it — too clever and too pretty to live,
hut I dont liki lie should die,*

100 SELF-CONQUEST.

'' God grant he may be spared to grow up a good
and happy man. And oh ! William, do yon think
that God liked to see His own Son die upon a cross j
and yet He let Him do it for the sake of saving us —
you and me, and every other poor sinner that will
take Him at His word, and let Him save us. Do
let Him save you^

His heart was softened, and he could scarcely
reply " God bless you," as I gave him Walter
Cradock's beautiful, brief words, called, " Good news
from heaven to the worst of sinners on earth."

CHAPTEE VIII.

fast il«tiiigs aitJr fast |arlrap.

'-* Farewell ! ' But not for ever/ Hope replies;
' Trace but his steps, and iseet him in the skiail"'

The warmest interest was taken by the navvies in
everything touching the welfare of our army, from
that day in the month of February 1854, when the
order for the Guards to hold themselves in readiness
for active service in the East, startled England into
the sudden conviction that the peace of forty years
was broken.

Some ten weeks earlier, a private of the Grenadier
Guards, named Henry Bonfield, was passing through
the village, when I was on ray way for a Sunday even-
ing " reading." He accepted a Testament gratefully,
and asked me to write his name in it, with the short
prayer which I had mentioned to him. For this
purpose, we entered a cottage, and its owners gladly
united with ns in praying that the Word of God
might be made the means of his being brcught from
darkness to light. The day before the regiment
Bailed for the East, he wrote to say that his Testament
and his little prayer were his chief comforts. He
begged that the souls of his wife and child might
be cared for; and asked for further advice to be

104 LAST MEETINGS AND LAST PARTINGS.

written to meet him at Malta. From thence, he
wrote to say that he had copied the prayer for a great
many men in his own regiment, and in others ;
because it had brought grace and peace to his own
soul. He did not live to return home.

This man was one of fifteen soldiers and officers
whose names were specially pleaded in prayer at all
our cottage meetings from the time of their being
sent out on active service. Very earnest was the
interest of the navvies in uniting in prayer that God
would teach us what could be done for the spiritual
welfare of our soldiers. And when the plan was
suggested for an immediate subscription to be raised
to purchase Testaments for each man in the regi-
ments then under orders for the East (before the
Bible Societies came forward with their liberal grant),
it was by the navvies combining with a few villagers
who attended that cottage reading, that the first dona-
tion, of fifteen shillings, was offered for this supply.
Their anxiety was great to hear that the Testaments
were in time to reach the regiment on the point of
sailing (the Scots Fusilier Guards). A letter from
a missionary of the Soldiers' Friend Society, to
whom we entrusted the work of carrying them to the
ship, was listened to with two or three scarcely
repressed shouts of joy ; and his details of the faci-
lities afforded him for their distribution, by the com-
manding officer, at the request of Captain A——

LAST MEETINGS AND LAST PARTINGS. 105

of that regiment, called forth, at the conclusion,
an irrepressible cheer, which ended in an earnest
"Thank God!"

The warm attachment, amounting almost to venera-
tion, formed bj these men for Captain Vicars of the
97th Regiment, during his visits to us in the preced-
ing autumn and winter, together with the strong ties
of relationship which bound many of them to our
soldiers, gave the character of prayer meetings for
the army to our little gatherings, from that time.

Letters from the seat of war were listened to with
thrilling interest, especially those which were written
by Captain Vicars, during the ten months which
followed his embarkation for the East, before he
entered into his rest. In the course of those months,
three of the railway men who had known him in
Beckenham, enlisted in regiments recruiting for the
war, chiefly for the sake of going to the Crimea, to
be within reach of Captain Vicars. Only one of the
three saw his face again.

It was on the 29th of March that he gave them,
as we then thought, his farewell address and prayer.
About one hundred and twenty were present. Many
of them were deeply affected. Several lingered near
the door afterwards, to catch his hand, as he left, for
a parting grasp ; and there agreed amongst themselves
to have a little gathering of their own, every Sunday
morning, at James W 's house, to pray for him.

M)6 LAST MEETINGS AND LAST TARTINGS.

But the delay of seven weeks before the 97th
Regiment actually sailed, gave them several more
opportunities of hearing the words of life from the
lips of one whose manly simplicity and power of
character, combined with the most genial warmth of
hearty peculiarly qualified him to obtain an influence
over these noble children of nature.

On the 10th of May, he addressed upwards of a
hundred of them, for the last time, on the 5th chapter
of the 2d of Corinthians, especially dwelling on the
words, "We must all appear before the judgment-
seat of Christ," and "The love of Christ constraineth
us."

We were obliged to be absent from home, at that
time, and many regrets were expressed to me by
letter, that I had missed hearing "the good, kind,
beautiful things" that were said in that farewell
address.

William G walked over from Deptford to hear

it; and fearing to make Captain Yicars too late for
the train, if he added to the thicket of hands sur-
rounding him for a parting shake, he ran after the
carriage which conveyed him to Sydenliam station,
but missed him in the dark. He then wrote to ask
me if he could see Captain Vicars any where again.
I mentioned that at the railway station, London
Bridge, he might be able to see him for a few minutes
about eight o'clock the following evening.

LAST MEETINGS AND LAST PARIINGS. 107

An hour before the time appointed William G-

was at the station ; and then was well repaid by an
hom-'s -walk and talk with this so loved and honoured
friend, who wrote of it to me thus — " Never have I
more heartily enjoyed an hour's communion with a
brother in the Lord Jesus."

Henry Hunns had received orders to join his regi-
ment, then the Westminster Militia, on the morning
of the 10th. But, with the independence of the navvy
not yet merged into the obedience of the soldier, he
wrote me word that he " should give himself leave to
wait and see Captain Vicars." In a reply, by return
of post, I said " Captain Vicars will not notice you
if you neglect your duty as a soldier." So he went
at the time appointed. But it laid heavily on my
heart that I had cut him off from his last chance of
an interview with one whose words and example had
so powerful an influence for good over him, and that
I could not calculate the amount of benefit of which
I had thus deprived the poor young man.

He had promised to write to me with his address
in London, and I had planned to send him to Ken-
sington barracks for a parting word with his valued
friend ; but Captain Vicars' last day in England had
come, and yet there was no letter from Henry. So
by the early post I sent off a despatch, directed only
" Westminster Militia, London," to tell him, if he
could get leave, to go at seven o'clock that evening

108 LAST MEETINGS AND LAST PAHTINGS.

to Mr Goodliart's church at Chelsea, and to wait for
Captain Vicars at the vestry door, after the service
was over, for a shake of the hand and a parting bless-
ing.

The letter found him that afternoon. He went at
once for leave, and then ran from Shepherd's Bush
to Chelsea in time to hear the sermon. At the
appointed place he met Captain Vicars, who, with a
night of work before him, and a farewell in prospect
for the next morning, which a voice within his heart
foretold was final, cheerfully spared an hour to walk
with the militia-navvy, speaking words of wise and
kindly counsel which were never to be forgotten.

On the evening of the 1st of June, a lecture was to
be delivered at the school-room with reference to the
keeping of the Sabbath, by Mr Baylee, the Secretary
of the Society for promoting the Observance of the
Lord's-day. I ventured to go, with a friend who
was staying with us, to the doors of the public-
houses, to request the strangers who had recently
arrived to attend. They came in large numbers, so
as to fill the school-room. As I knocked at the door
of a beer-shop, a notorious drunkard in the supper-
room saw me, and said, " Here 's the lady comes that
spoils our peace with the beer-jugs ! "

LAST MEETINGS AND LAST PARTINGS. 109

" Bar her out, then," said a fine young man, with-
out deigning to turn round. I turned to invite the
landlady ; and then stood still for a minute, waiting
for courage to speak to the men in the supper-room.
The landlady said, " Would you like to invite them,
ma'am ?" I then asked the youth who had proposed
the " barring out." He said he could not go, as he
was a stranger, and must leave in a few minutes.
His dog-cart stood at the door, with beer-bottles in
the " well." " Have you a Bible of your own at
home?"

"Quantities! but they have never done me any
good. They do for women and cowards."

" Very good for them, without a doubt," I replied,
" and for brave men, too. I happen to have in my
pocket a letter from a young friend of mine, who
writes from the Guards' camp at Varna. Listen to
what he says about the comfort of the Word of God
and prayer for the Holy Spirit."

The young man listened to it with melting eyes ;
and then said, " There 's both power and beauty in
that." He was moved to tears by the story of
Hedley Vicars' conversion ; and when it was pressed
upon him that the words, " the blood of Jesus Christ
His Son cleanse th us from all sin," were just as true
for Mm; and would he not likewise say, " Then,
henceforth, by the grace of God, I will live as a
washed man should," he was entirely overcome, and

110 LAST MEETINGS AND LAST PARTINGS.

rushed out of the house. When T went out, he was
waiting for me, to say, " I thought, ma'am, you would
let me speak to you alone. Will you let me buy
one of your little Testaments, and will you write my
name in it, and that text^ to remind me of what you
have been saying to me, and to shew to my two
young sisters." His lip trembled ; and he said again
and again, " God bless you," as I left him, with the
promise of sending him a Testament as a remem-
brance, and a letter with it, to recall to him, when at
a distance, the subject of our conversation.

On Whitsunday, the 4th of June, William G ■

and Thomas Dibley w^alked from Deptford to spend
their communion Sabbath in Beckenham. I met

them walking to church with James W and

Richard W (another whose steady walk and

diligent attendance at all the services and readings
gave me great satisfaction that year). They referred,
in the evening, with affectionate warmth, to their
deepened interest in the prayers for the army since
the preceding sacrament Sunday, Captain Vicars hav-
ing sailed for the East on the 19th of jMay. William

G spoke of the hour he spent with him on the

platform of the London Bridge Station, as one of the
best delights he had ever known. And several of
the men alluded with deep feeling to his farewell
address to them in the month of May.

Towards the end of June I left home for threo or

LAST MEETINGS AND LAST PARTINGS. Ill

four weeks. Henry Hunns was the last who lingered
at the gate to bid me farewell. ^' I sometimes feel,"
he said, " as if I had better die than grieve the
Lord by living on to fall away, as I have done.
But He will take His choice about me ; and all I
say to Him is, I'm very weak, and easily led away.
If I can't stand, hadn't I better go Home pretty
soon?"

That was the last time I ever heard the frank con-
fessions of his simple, true, young heart. He enlisted
in the army the following week, and wrote me word
that his best hope in so doing was to get ordered out
to where Captain Vicars was, that his blessed example
might strengthen him to walk with God. " I am a
poor sinner," he added, " but I pray twenty times a
day to be washed from it all in my Saviour's blood,
and to be filled with His Spirit, and sooner or later
God will answer me, Avill He not?"

That He did answer him, who can doubt? When
did He ever say to a pleading soul, " Seek ye my
face in vain!" " What soul ever perished with his
face toward Jesus Christ?" He died of cholera soon
after landing in the Crimea. Perhaps in gracious
accordance with his own suggestion, " Hadn't I better
go Home pretty soon."

Of *»»

CHAPTER IX.

^t libit in t\t Camj.

** Lord, it is not life to live.
If Thy presence Thou deny ;
Lord, if Thou Thy presence gin^
*Tis no longer death to die.

Source and Giver of repose.
Only from Thy love it flows :
Peace and happiness are Thite j
Mine they are, if Thou art minr,"

H

Few features ir Ire cliaracter of tI\o navvies have
attracted my admiration, and interested me so warmly,
as their power of strong brotherly friendship for each
other. Separated, as so often they are in mere boy-
hood, from the sweet influences of home — as beauti-
ful and binding in the cottage as in the castle — the
yearning of the young heart for human affection
often finds its response in a friendship formed after
the fashion of the unrivalled love which glorified the
lives of Jonathan and David. An unselfish regard,
and even generous preference for each other's benefit,
is no uncommon trait ; and many a man have I seen,
in time of siciuiess, supported by his " mate" with si
brother's kindness, and nursed with a mother's gentle
care.

The friendship between Samuel Bush and Joseph

W was an instance of this. They had wandered

about the country together, and had worked side by side,
mutually sharing their gains, and nursing each other
through illness and accident. Together they had too
often joined in the reckless revelry of the public-

116 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

house ; together they had striven against its tempta-
tions ; had fallen back into them again ; and together
they had made fresh efforts to live a new life.

It was in the month of February 1854, that Joseph

W first became personally known to me, although

Samuel had been in the habit of bringing him to the
readings for some time previously.

One morning Joseph came to the Rectory in breath-
less haste, with a request that I would come and see
his landlord, whom he believed to be dying from a
sudden attack of inflammation. I promised to go
immediately after breakfast; but he would not hear
of any delay, urging that it might be too late.

When we reached the cottage we found that the
poor man was quite sensible, and anxious for prayer.
As I rose from my knees, I heard Joseph going down
stairs, sobbing ; and as I passed through the kitchen
on my way out, he was sitting with his arms on the
table and his face hidden. I said, " Joseph, I hope
Clarke's sudden illness speaks to you to be ready."

" It do, it do," he said, without looking up ; '^ and
I hope it will speak to Sammy, too. Sam is a good
boy, if it weren't for the drink ; but that has been the
ruin of us both."

" But you and Samuel are both trying to live bet-
ter lives now ? Be earnest in asking the Holy Spirit
of God to help you to make the change at once, for
* the time is short.' "

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 117

"Yes; is it not?" (with his face still hidden.)
" Look at Clarke ! Oh, I hope he'll be saved ! "

" I think you must have had a good mother, Joseph,
who taught you something of the value of an undying
soul."

^' A good mother ! Oh, hadn't I ! " (looking up
brightly through his tears.) " She taught me to pray,
and all sorts of good ways" — then, suddenly drop-
ping his head again — " but I broke her heart nine
years ago."

" Oh, Joseph ! how sad for you to lose so good a
mother !"

" Oh, but she's not dead though ! only she broke
her heart about my taking to the drink, and going
away from her on navvy work."

" Have you been to see her lately?"

" No, not for nine years."

" You write to her, of course?"

" Well, no, I don't."

" Why, how is that ? You can write, can you not ?"

" Oh yes ; but you see there 's so many things to
think of in writing — too many for a navvy. There's
the cover, and the stamp, and the paper, and the
seal, and the pen and ink ; that 's six."

"Well, if you will come with me, I will give you
a 'self-sealing' cover with a stamp on it, and the
pen and paper, and the ink you can borrow from
your landlady."

118 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

" Well, I will give you half-a-crown for them/*

" No; Joseph ; that would be a great deal more
than they are worth, and you shall have them as a
present. But go to the post-office, and spend your
half-crown in stamps, and put them in your letter to
your mother, to buy a new cap as a gift from her son."

" Well, that is a good thought."

He was off like an arrow, and arrived at the
Rectory shortly afterwards, in great glee, to receive
his treasures ; and especially appreciated a steel-pen
with a brilHant blue pen-holder.

On the next Sunday evening, I asked him if he
had received an answer. He said, " No j and so I '11
never write again as long as I live."

" Oh, Joseph, think better of it, and write again ;
if you have taken nine years to write your letter, you
may allow your mother more than three days for
answering it."

After the next cottage-reading, he said, " Well, I
wrote again, and have got no answer. Mother has
thrown me over anyhow ; so I '11 never write no
more, to the end of my days."

" But your mother may be ill — too ill to write.
What do you think of writing to your sister to
inquire about her?"

" Mother ill ! Ah 1 to be sure. I never thought
of that, poor dear old soul ! Well, I '11 try it once
again, and see what it '11 fetch,"

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 119

On the next Sunday evening Joseph was early at
the cottage, and before the rest had assembled he
handed an open letter to me. ^' There now, please
read that, ma'am, and tell me what you think of
mother. She was ill, bless her!"

The letter was so beautiful, that I read it, with
Joseph's proud permission, to the little assembly, at
the close of our Scripture reading ; and the hearts of
other sons responded to that Christian mother's
tender and solemn appeal. It had so happened, in
the awful providence of God, that the drunkard who
had first led Joseph, when a boy of sixteen, to a
public-house, had left a beer-shop in a state of in-
toxication, and had fallen into a reservoir, and was
dro^vned. This took place the same day that Joseph's
letter had caused his mother to say, in the gladness
of her heart, " This my son was dead, and is alive
again ; he was lost, and is found."

On returning the letter, I asked Joseph to copy
it for me. Accordingly, the next evening a copy,
beautifully written on thick, gilt-edged paper, was
left at the Eectory.

The fate of his first tempter had a great effect
upon his mind; and he became extremely steady
from that time, and diligent in his attendance at
church and at the lectures. Two months afterwards
he left Beckenham to work in London. The day
after the opening of the Crystal Palace he called to

120 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

see me. A pleasant smile flashed across his dark
face at first meeting; but then he sat down and
cried.

" Nothing has happened to your dear, excellent old
mother, I hope, Joseph?"

" Well, that 's it — about the worst thing that
could. I've gone and enlisted in the India Com-
pany's service, and mother's heart will break. And
I sha'n't be in England to close her dear eyes ; no,
nor to go to any more of the readings after to-night's
last one."

" Oh, Joseph, what made you do it?"

" Why, a new mate of mine (ah, if Sammy had
been with me, he'd have had sense) says to me, ^ Mate,
would you like to see foreign countries ? We could
do it for nothing in the India Company's service.
Let 's go and enlist ! ' So says I, ^ With all my heart ! '
and off we went."

" Well, Joseph, if I had been by, I should have
said, ^ Think it over first, and count the cost.' But
there is no help for it now ; so cheer up, and go to
your new duties with a hearty good will. God can
bless you as a soldier as well as He has blessed you
as a workman, if you do your duty as unto Him.
What if God the Holy Spirit should make you,
amongst your brother-soldiers, something like Cap-
tain Yicars is in his regiment — a light to shew others
the way to heaven."

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 121

This thought greatly cheered him. A short time
afterwards, the following letters expressed the warm
feelings of his grateful heart : —

" Warley Barracks, June 19, 1854.

^' Dear Feiend, — I received your kind letter and
presents, and I thank you kindly for them j and may
the Lord reward you kindly for the trouble you have
taken on my behalf since I first saw you at Becken-
ham. And oh, ma'am, I have a very kind letter
from your aged, honoured father, and he gave me a
good advice ; and oh ! may the Lord bless him and
you, both, and if I should not see you to thank you
in this world, may I meet you at the right hand of
God, when He shall summon all nations to His bar.
And I should like not to go to India till you come
back to Beckenham. Oh, ma'am ! I should like to
come to Beckenham once more before I go, for it is
as dear to me as my native place ; and I should like
to be at one of your lectures once more before I go,
for very likely I shall not meet with such a friend as
I did when I saw you.

" And there are two or three young men there that
I should like to warn against that evil of drinking.
Oh, ma'am, I can see the evil of it, and that makes
me in earnest about others; but if I should not see
them I will write a few lines, so that you may say it
came from my own lips. My dear mother is sore

122 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

troubled about mj going, and so is my sister ; but I
tell them that God will be my guide through life,
and safely bring me to glory if I put my trust in
Him ; and I shall be as safe in the field of battle as
I am in England. I shall write to you again in a
few days, for I shall never forget your kindness as
long as I live, for you are as dear to me as my own
mother for the instructions and advice you have given
me. Oh, remember me in your prayers, for they are
worth more than thousands of gold and silver. So I
remain your most humble servant,

"Joseph W ."

" "Warley Barracks, July 3, 1854.

"Deae Christian Friend, — I now take the liberty
of writing a few lines to you, hoping that you will
not be offended with me for taking so much liberty,
for I know that I am troubling you very much ; but
I shall value your letters as if they were gold. And
if I should never see you again before I go, I shall
take them with me ; and if God should spare my life
to return, and if you are living, you shall see them
again, for I will never part with them as long as I
live, for they will pass many a dull hour away. And
I must inform yoa that I have had a letter from my
dear, good, kind mother, and she is nearly broken-
hearted about me, for there are some family affairs to
be settled next October, and they cannot be settled

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 123

unless I am present. Without my being present it
will be a great disadvantage both to her and myself;
and she wishes me to ask you if you would write a
few lines to the Colonel to ask him if he would allow
me to stop at the depot till October, so that I might
have an opportunity of going to see her and settle
this affair. You may tell him that I have no wish
to be bought off, or to be discharged ; and if he will
grant my mother that request I will endeavour to
obey all orders in a soldier-like manner as long as I
remain in the service. This would be doing both
my mother and myself a great kindness, if it would
not be troubling you too much. And oh, ma'am,
may God reward you for the kindness that you have
done for me, for it will never be in my power to repay
your kindness; but there is one thing I can do, I
can remember you in my prayers, for I shall never
forget your instructions as long as I live ; for if you
had been my own mother you could not have been
in more earnest about my never-dying soul than you
have been since I first saw you at Beckenham. And
if I should never see you again, may the Lord bless
you and reward you for all your trouble; and may
your prayers be answered, and may I meet you in
heaven. Oh, ma'am, if there is as much wickedness
carried on in India as there is here, I shall go out of
my mind, for I thought before I enlisted that I should
not liave so much temptation here, but I find that I

124 THE BIBLE IX THE CAMP.

have ten times as mucli. Oh, ma'am, it is a blessed
thing that I came to Beckenham, or else, I think, I
should have been lost for ever. Oh, how thankful
ought I to be to the Lord for not cutting me down
in the midst of my wickedness, for great would have
been my condemnation, after the advice that I have
had from time to time. And there is one thing I want
to ask of you, that is, to remember me in your
prayers, that the Lord may give me strength against
all temptations, and fill me with His holy Spirit, and
give me the power of winning many souls to the
Lord Jesus Christ; for the Scripture says that one
man's soul is worth more than the whole world. Oh,
ma'am, if every one that knew the love of God in his
own heart were to endeavour to gain one soul, what
a happy change we should see in a short time. And
may God grant that the time may soon come when
we shall see it so.

" I must conclude, hoping that, if I never see you
in this world to thank you for your kindness, I shall
meet you in glory; so I remain your most humble
servant, trusting in God for all help through this
life for ever,

"Joseph W ."

*' Warley Barracks, August 4, 1854.

« Kind Friend, — I received your letter this day,
and was very glad to hear from you ; but I am very

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 125

Sony that I did not answer your letter that you sent
before with the one enclosed that you received from

Colonel , but I wrote a letter home to my mother

and sister, and I was waiting to get an answer from
them, so that I might be able to tell you what she
said, but I have not had one yet ; but I can answer
for her and myself, and I thank you kindly for your
kindness, and may God bless you for the trouble
that you have taken in my wxlfare.

" This is the day that I should have had to embark
for India. There are just about three hundred gone
to-day to a distant land, perhaps never to return
again ; and I fear many of them are gone in a dread-
ful state of wickedness, and that death may overtake
many of them before they repent of their sins. Oh,
ma'am, what an awful thing it will be if, after living
in this Christian country, they should be lost for
ever. Oh, ma'am, God forbid that it should be my
lot, after having the instructions and the good
examples that I have had shewn me.

" And, ma'am, I was very much pleased Tvith what
you said in your letter about Captain Vicars going
into the cave to read his Bible, for I am just the
same myself; I often take my Bible and go into the
woods where I can open my heart to the I^ord, and
tell Him my wants without being molested by any
one. Oh, ma'am, I shall never forget Beckenham,
for it was there where I first felt the love of God shed

126 THE BIBLE IN IHE CAMP.

abroad in my heart ; and, oh, may it never part from
me again. Although at times I do not feel so much
of the love of God as I would wish, still I will
never give over praying till I get a blessing, for I
often think of a little hymn that I learned when a
Sunday-school scholar, where it says: —

* 'Tis religion that can give
Sweetest pleasures while we live ;
'Tis religion must supply
Happy comforts when we die.'

" I think, ma'am, now that I am going to stay till
October, that I shall have an opportunity of seeing
you before I go away, perhaps never to see your face
again in this world ; but if I should not, may I meet
you in heaven at the right hand of God, where those
that love the Lord will never part again for ever, but
live in glory with the angels of God. So I remain
your most humble servant,

" Joseph W ."

" "WAttLEY Barracks, January 2, 1855.
" Kind Friend, — I received your letter this morn-
ing, and I was very glad to hear from you, for it is quite
a pleasure to me to read your letters, for it often gives
ease to my troubled mind. When alone, I fr^equently
get and read all of them ; for they speak so much of
that dear Saviour, who took upon Himself the sin of
mankind, when nothing but the death of the Cross
could make atonement for the whole world. Oh,

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 127

ma'am, I often think what encouragement this is for
mankind to give their whole hearts to the Lord ; for
sm*ely He who died for the sin of man will not be
against him if he call on Him while He may be found.
But delays are dangerous; for He has said in His
lioly Word, that His Spirit shall not always strive
with man. But may the Lord give me grace and
faith sufficient for my day, that- 1 may go on conti-
nually seeking Him. And, oh, may I not be satis-
fied by the saving of my own soul, but may I be in
earnest about the souls of others ; and may I be the
means of bringing many to seek that Saviour, who
had compassion on me when I was on the very brink
of hell. And how very thankful I ought to be to
Providence, who guided my feet to Beckenham ; for
if I had not met with you, and went to your lectures,
I believe I should have been lost for ever. But
thanks be to Him who died for my sins, that I am
still where hope and mercy may be found. The
Scriptures tell us that ^ God is not a man that he
should lie, nor the son of man that he should repent;'
then how can He refuse us that everlasting happiness
which He has promised to all who call upon Him?
And oh! may that day soon come, when we need
not say to each other, ^ Know the Lord, but all shall
know Him, from the least to the greatest.'

" If I should never see you again in this world,
may I meet you in glory, where you may see the

128 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

fruit of jour labours, and the answers to your prayers,
kind madam.

" So I remain your most humble servant, trusting
in God for all help through this life,

"Joseph W ."

Joseph W remained in England until the

autumn of 1856. His conduct in the regiment was
excellent; and before the close of his first year of
service he rose to be a sergeant. Shortly afterwards,
he became desirous of entering the company of Sap-
pers and Miners, and passed the necessary examina-
tion with credit.

Twice, by the leave which was kindly accorded by
his colonel, he was enabled to spend some days with
his excellent m.other, and married, with her blessing,
an amiable and pious young woman, who sailed with
him for India shortly after their wedding had taken
place. He brought her to Beckenham, on his fare-
well visit. Both seemed desirous of " following the
Lord fully."

Samuel Bush left Beckenham at the same time

with Joseph W , to share his fortunes as usual.

But, failing to find work under the same master, he
left his mate, with the full intention of joining
company with him again, when Joseph's temporary
employment should have ceased. But, impressed
with the idea that he could never become a steadily

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 12#

religious character, unless assisted by the advice and
example of such a man as Captain Vicars, he enlisted
in a draft for the 77th Eegiment, in the hope of being
sent to the seat of war, and of finding that regiment,
as he expressed it, " alongside of the 97th ! "

He came to Beckenham, in the summer, to bid us
good-bye, and to fetch his books. I was absent from
home, but I heard that he had said " his Bible and
he should never part company again." It was under
his pillow when he died.

The next time I heard of his welfare was through
a letter of his own, written in the autumn of the same
year, by the hand of a Roman Catholic soldier in the
same regiment, to whom Samuel Bush's Bible, and
the brief words of the prayer written on its fly-leaf,
brought the message of pardon and peace through
the blood of the cross.

" Isle of Wight, September 25, 1854.

" My Dear Madam, — You will no doubt feel sur-
prised when you find who sends you this, and that I
am now a soldier. But though I am removed thus far
from you, I now feel the full extent of my obligrtions
to you. Yes, madam, you were the first to teach me
that which now I feel is better by far than any
worldly things. Indeed, words cannot convey the
gratitude I would express to you for teaching me a
knowledge of Jesus. I feel quite happy, as I have

I

130 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP*

hope in the mercies and all-atoning blood of a
Saviour.

" I have time in my present calling to read the
Testament Avhich yom- goodness supplied me with ;
and I find in it, that if the sinner turn from his evil
ways, He will not cast him out ; and mine, you know,
madam, has been one continued series of wickedness
till I came to Beckenham. I attend church every Sun-
day to hear the Word of God ; and I am getting better
at school, for I can now read my Bible pretty well.

"And now I have no more to say, but to ask
your prayers.

" Jdy much respected friend, accept the feebie
thanks of my repentant, grateful heart, and join with
me in extolling the mercies of my God, in whose
hands you were an instrument of snatching me from
the brhik of that bottomless pit, over which T was
hanging. Was it not for this, I might still be
wallowing in the mire of my iniquity, or, having
incensed my merciful Saviour, be buried in Hell.

" Believe me to be, yours in gratitude and sin-
cerity, Samuel Bush."

" Direct to Samuel Bush, private, 77th Depot,
I Co., No. 69, Parkhm^st Barracks, Isle of Wight."

"iV.5. — I sent you a letter long since, but the
directions were wrong, and it came back again."

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 131

" Octoler 25, 1854.

" My Dear Madam, — I feel very thankful for your
kind gifts. I continually read, or repeat, some of
one of your little prayers. I find great comfort in
repeating them. Oh ! what pleasure do they not
find who seek the Lord ! Hitherto I sought to satisfy
my thirst with muddy water, and my hunger with
husks, like swine ; but I hear those consoling words,
^ Come to me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest.' Oh I that I had
sooner known faith in His blood. Oh! why do so
many drink of those muddy waters, which will not,
nor cannot satisfy them. Is there no balm in Gilead,
or is there no physician there ? Is there no compas-
sion in the heart which is tenderness itself? Why
do not all fly to the atoning blood of Him, who said,
^ If you ask the Father anything in my name, He
will give it you.'

'' I got a letter from our friend Joseph W , and

have good reason to hope in the Lord that He has
opened the treasures of His grace to him. I expect
to go out in a draft soon, but your letters will follow
me. I am not in the India service, but in the 77th
regiment of infantry. It is to the present seat of war
I am to go ; but my Jesus will be with me. In
the army it is very difficult to find a Christian friend;
but yet I have a Christian friend, though a sinful
one. He who writes this, and my other letters, claims

132 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

that title, not throtigli his own meritS; but through
the conquering blood of his Divine Master, and who
now begs leave to recommend himself to you, and
your friends' prayers. If it would not be too much
trouble, me and my friend would wish to receive
more of these soldiers' prayers at your hands, humbly
hoping that our use of them will correspond with your
wishes.

" And now, my dear madam, I conclude with
grateful prayers that God, in whom you trust, will
bless you in this life j and when you leave this earth,
may He take you to the place where no care, nor sor-
row can appear — where the sorrowful shall cease
mourning, and the weary shall be at rest. I remain,

" S. Bush."

" Pakkhukst Barracks, October 30, 1854.

" My Dear Madam, — We would be very happy
in getting some tracts, they would be of much use ;
and any other prayers that you have, please send
them to us. Nearly all have got Bibles now. We
strive to disperse the tracts, and we often borrow
from others. The schoolmaster lends all his books

to L , and we read them together. He is just

reading to me part of the ^ Anxious Inquirer,' by
John Angell James.

" My dear madam, you pray that we may meet
with Jesus. Of that I have a good hope, through

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 133

His grace; for, though I never deserved to rejoice
with Him, yet it is not through my own works that
I hope to earn heaven, but through the merits of His
blood; and those who come to Him He will in
nowise cast out. Oh, yes ! there is in His Word
that which makes me happy.

" And now, my dear friend in Jesus, pray for me.

" There is a hundred men going to Russia one of
these days ; but me nor my friend are not going yet.

" My love, through Jesus, to you ; through Him

henceforth all my wishes be conveyed ; and in Him

rest all my cares, even the important affair of my

salvation.

' Though heaven and earth may pass away,
And sinners tremble for that day ;
Yet I '11 secure and happy be.
For Jesus' blood was shed for me*

" Your humble friend, S. BuSH."

He continued to correspond with me occasionally
from that time. Early in the month of January
1855 he landed in the Crimea, where the wish of his
heart was gratified. The 77th was *^ alongside the
97th," and he and his friend had unrestricted leave to
visit Captain Vicars for his advice, and for the read-
ing of the Word of God, and prayer, until the 22d
of March, when Hedley Vicars ended his brief, but
bright career of love towards God and man, and of

134 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

heroic discharge of his duty as a soldier, on the
ground before Sebastopol.

In the month of June, Samuel Bush was visited
by Mr Duncan Matheson, whose apostolic self-
denial and exertion, as a soldier's missionary in the
Crimea, enabled him to sow the seed of eternal life
broadcast, in faith of seeing the harvest in heaven.

He passed through a crowd of men, most of whom
were cursing and swearing. In the midst sat a
young man, who had just come back from night
service in the trenches, refreshing himself by reading
his Bible. There he sat, on the roots of a tree
which had been cut down, reading almost as peace-
fully as if he had been in heaven. The peace of
God, which passeth all understanding, was keeping
his heart and mind through Christ Jesus.

Mr Matheson sat down by his side, and the two
held communion together with Him whom their
souls loved.

"What do you think of Samuel Bush?" asked
Mr Matheson, as he made his way back through the
crowd an hour afterwards.

" He is a solid Christian, and a good soldier," was
the answer.

In the following September he received his mortal
^ound, and died three or four weeks afterwards.

Meeting some wounded soldiers, about two months
kter in that year, who had the number " 77th " on

English Hearts.

p. 134

THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP. 135

their caps, I asked if they knew Samuel Bush of their
regiment, and how, and where he was.

" He died of his wounds some weeks ago," was
the repl J.

" Was he happy when he was dying?"

" Happy ! " said one man, starting forward, " if
ever a man died happy, he did. There was a little
Bible he read till his eyes were dim, and then kept
it under his pillow till he died. He was a happy
man, living and dying."

The manner of his death, and of his entrance into
Life, was written to his aged parents ; and the follow-
ing letter was received in reply : —

'* February 10, 1S56.

" Madam, — I have taken my pen in hand to write
these few lines to you, hoping to find you in good
health, as they leave us at present, bless God for it,
but not very well in spirits ; but we are happy, by
the grace of God, to hear that my «5on Samuel died
with the grace of God in his heart, and hope, by
what you say, he has gone to rest, and is far better
off than we that he has left behind; but we hope
to meet him in heaven.

" And I must say, that I feel very much obliged
to you for all your favours towards my son Samuel
Bush ; and as it does not lay in my power to repay
you again, I hope there is One above that will repay

136 THE BIBLE IN THE CAMP.

you for all. Now I must conclude, with our best
respects to you,

" Mark and Mary Bush.

** SOREMBr.

"And on the other side I have sent you a few
lines that he sent in his last letter that he wrote

me

' I was a wandering sheep,
I did not love the fold ;
1 did not love my Shepherd's voice —
I would not be controU'd.

* I was a wayward child,

1 did not love my home j
I did not love my Father's voice—
I loved afar to roam.

' I was a wandering sheep,
I would not be controU'd ;
But now I love my Shepherd's voice—
I luve, I love His fold.

* I was a wayward child,

I once preferr'd to roam ;
But now I love my Father's voice —
1 love, I love His home.'"

" And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.
And when he cometh home, he calleth his friends and neighbours,
saying unto them. Rejoice with me ; for I have found va^ sheep which
was lost."

CHAPTER X

* There is a path that leads to (Jod,
All others go astray ;
Narrow, but pleasant, is the road,
And Christians love the way.

•* It leads straight through this world of i
And dangers must be past;
£at those who boldly walk therein.
Will come to heaven ac last**

The last of the three Crystal Palace workmen who
enlisted in regiments recruiting for service in the
Crimea, chiefly for the sake of being within reach of
Captain Vicars, was a young Scotchman, named

James K , the son of pious parents, whom he

had not seen for several years. When I saw him
first, early in the year 1854, he was standing at the
door of his lodgings one Bunday morning in his
working clothes. On my requesting him to come to
church, he replied, "I do not like the churches in
this country. I cannot accommodate myself to your
bits of prayers."

^' I can quite understand your preference for the
Church of your fathers. But when I am in Scotland
I can be thankful to God for the privilege of attend-
ing your Church, in which I have found much profit
and blessing to my soul, though I love the manner
of my own Church the most dearly."

"I think that's sensible," he said; "and perhaps
I would go up if I knew where to sit. But it's all
strange to me, you see."

140 THE ARMOUR OF LIGHT.

I promised to call for him in good time, and to
shew him a seat in the church. From that day for-
ward he became a regular attendant at the house of
God, and availed himself of all the opportunities for
instruction 5 and he dated from that time the com-
mencement of the change which soon became apparent
to all who knew him. There was a peculiar thought-
fulness and manly simplicity about liim which in-
terested me from the first time I saw him ; and his
progress in the new path was even and steady.

In the course of the next winter he enlisted in the
Coldstream Guards, and wrote to announce it thus : —

" Kind Lady, — I am a soldier 5 and I have enlisted
for the hope of doing my duty to my Queen and
country, and especially of being near that blessed
man of God, and good soldier and officer. Captain
Vicars, whom I hope to be setit out near to pretty
soon, and to gain the profit of his advice, and his
prayers and example."

My answer to this communication missed him ; and
it was sometime before he wrote again. To the
letter which at last reached him from Beckenham he
thus alludes : —

" PoRTMAN Street Barracks, January 7, 1855.

"Dear Lady, — I received your kind letter this
morning, just before Divine service. I am happy to

THE ARMOUR OF LIGHT. 141

think that our dear friend Captain Yicars is so well,
and has gone through so many hardships and dan-
gers ; but he bears it bravely ; but Jesus shields His
people from all dangers ; for if they should fall on
earth, they rise in heaven — so that death to one of
Christ's soldiers is just to raise him into glory ; for
the Lord is our shepherd, He will not let the sheep
of His hand fail. I read Captain Vicars' letter over
to my comrades. They were all happy to hear it,
as it was from the seat of war. And we can do no
more for him but pray that it may please Jesus to
guide him through this war, and bring him home to
his native land and friends. I had not much oppor-
tunity of prayer ; but I had a few words by myself,
like the sailor boy, alone in the croAvn of my cap. I
have not time for more, for I have to get ready for
the Bank picquet. The drum calls me to my arms.
No more at present, but good-bye ; and God bless
you, kind lady, James K ,

" Coldstream Guards."
"PoRTMAN Street Barracks, January 4, 1855.

"Kind Lady, — I received your kind letter on
Monday night when I was on the Queen's guard, just
as I was going on sentry, so I could not stop to read
it till I came off sentry. I never spent two hours so
unhappy all my life till I came off sentry, and then I
read it ; and I got your kind present that you sent

142 THE ARMOUR OF LIGHT.

me yesterday. I cannot return your kindness, but
by offering up a prayer to Jesus- for you. I have
read it over and over again, and those little books
that I got from you when I was at Bcckenham. I
take great delight in reading them. When I am
off duty, and sitting reading them, some of my

comrades will say to me, ' Come man K , into

the canteen and have a pint ; you will be so religious
that you can't do nothing.' I make no return, but
call on Jesus to give me strength to stand against
these temptations. When I call on God he never
forsakes me. That little prayer that you gave me, I
have it always in my mind. When I am on guard
I always have one of your little books with me. I
have a good many temptations to bear; but the
Lamb of God, when I call on Him, he puts a double
strength in me, so I can stand them all. I have read
that copy of a prayer that you sent me in your letter,
and shewed it to some of the rest. They laughed at
it, and said that there would not be much time for
reading when they went out to Russia ; but others
said that it would just be a go:d thing to have, and
they would like to have one ; for the thought . f going
out to the East, it gives many one of them a thought
of their souls ; and they will come to, and sav to me,
^ Are you not afraid to go to the war ? ' and I tell
them no ; for I tell them that Jesus will save my
soul if I should get killed ; and He will in no wise

THE ARMOUR OF LIGHT. 143

cast them out if they will but call on Him in time.
I would like very well, if you please to send me the
letter that came from Captain Vicars. No more at
present ; but God bless you.

" James K ,

" Coldstream Guards.**
'•St George's Bakracks, April &th.

" Dear Lady, — "When I opened the paper it made
the tears come into my eyes, for to hear that my
beloved friend had left this world. He is gone to
sleep in Jesus. I wish I had been by his side, and
seen him fall asleep. But I know that he is in greater
glory than is to be had in this world. When last I
saw him in Beckenham amongest ns, little did I think
that it was the last. But he fell in duty and glory.

" I expect we shall leave for the East in a day or
so. We are all at a minute's notice. I have all the
little books you gave me packed up in my kit.

" I was always living in the hopes of seeing that
beloved, respected Captain, and honoured brother in
the Lord, out there, when I got a chance of going out
to him ; now I am disappointed, but I will put no
trust in princes to get me to heaven, but I look on
the blood of Jesus on the Cross. I will trust in Him,
and He will never forsake me. For Jesus says —

' All ye that tliirst approach the stream
Where living waters flow.'

144 THE ARMOUR OF LIGHT.

" Our beloved friend is drinking of those living
waters now.

^^ So no more at present from your humble and
grateful friend,

" James K ,

" Coldstream Guards."
" St George's Barracks, April 8, 1855.

" Dear Lady, — I take the boldness of writing
these few lines, to let you know that I leave London
to-raorrow morning. We are all in heavy marching
order at six o'clock to-morrow morning. I put my
trust in Jesus, and He will lead me safe through all
the dangers of this world ; and I hope that I shall
meet my dear, kind friend Captain Vicars in heaven.

* And, oh, that will be joyful,
"When we meet to part no more.*

" I have not much time — we are all getting things
ready to start to-morrow morning. We take the
train at Waterloo Station for Portsmouth. I must
bid you farewell ; and God bless you ; and pray
for us when we are on the field of battle. Youi
grateful, humble friend,

"James K ."

Of the letters received from him whilst he was in
the Crimea, the following, perhaps, best expresses his
thoughts and feelings : —

THE ARMOUR OF 1 IGHT. 145

" Camp before Sev isxopoL, August 6, 1855.
" Dear Lady, — I take the opportunity of writing
to you to let you know that I am in good health,
and thanks be to God for the same — who is the
Giver of all good. I would have answered your kind
letter before this time, but our duty has been so
hard that I have not had time. We are in the
trenches almost every night, and I am for them to-
night again ; but them I never think about. Many
a one says that they don't like the trenches, for they
are afraid of the shot and shell that is always flying
about us; but them I don't fear, for I know that
Jesus' right hand can take care of me in the hour
of danger as well there as if I was in my tent. So I
put my trust in Him. I fear no danger, for His
right hand guides my way. I always take my little
friend in my pocket, that is my little Testament that
you gave me. I have had many naiTOw escapes for
my life in these trenches, but my loving Saviour
guards me through all dangers and hardships ; and
I must say our regiment has been the most fortunate
in the trenches of any I know of. The most we have
had wounded in one night yet was seven ; one lost
his leg and another his arm. I was close by when
the shell burst that took them both, for the Eussians
are not bad marksmen. They murder our poor com-
rades the French most terrible with shot and shell ;
but they stand their ground, and are gaining upon

K

146 THE ARMOUR OF LIGHT.

the Kussians' advanced works, as we are. But I
must draw to a close, as it is getting near time to be
ready for the trenches again. I have seen some of
the men of our dear Captain Vicars' Regiment ; and
they all mourn the loss of him very much. I have
read to nigh all my comrades that little book about
him ; and they like it.

" Give my love to James W and all my old

mates in Beckenham ; and if the great King of kings
gives me health and strength, I hope that I will see
them all again at that place where I learned to know
and love my Saviour ; and you who taught me, by
His grace.

" So no more, dear Lady, but remain,

" James K ."

The prayer of faith was answered ; and the soldier
returned home ^'in health and strength," by the
good providence of God.

CHAPTEE XL

Mm 3mh k Mm.

Hearts are not steel, and steel is bent;
Hearts are not stone, and stone is reni."

Scarcely had the latest lingerers amongst the Crystal
Palace workmen disappeared from Beckenham, in the
spring of 1855, before a new interest had sprung up
for us in the gathering of the Army Works Corps.

It was formed by the suggestion, and under the
aiTangement of Sir Joseph Paxton ; for whose cour-
teous and cordial readiness to afford us facilities of
intercourse with the men, as for that of every gentle-
man connected with the service, and in particular
Mr Milner, the chief officer at the Crystal Palace de-
partment, we shall always feel truly grateful.

The Coi-ps amounted, from first to last, to nearly
four thousand men. The -first detachment consisted
only of railway labourers, sent out to make them-
selves generally useful in all works connected with
the army and its position in the Crimea, which could
be performed by manual labour. But in the succeed-
ing draughts, the numbers of artisans of various kinds,
smiths, stonemasons, bricklayers, &c., &c., preponde-
rated above the labourers. The first ship sailed early
in July, and the last about the middle of December,

150 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

1855. The men assembled to be chosen at the
Crystal Palace Office, and remained in the neigh-
bourhood until their several embarkations.

News was brought to the Rectory, on the evening
of the 19th of May, that several strangers had arrived
to look for lodgings in the village ; so we went out to
meet them, to begin acquaintance with them at once,
knowing that the time would be short for the work
before us.

It had been a sorrowful day ; the anniversary of
our last parting with Hedley Vicars occurring whilst
we were yet in the first freshness of a sorrow which
can never grow old. One of his sisters went with me;
and we had agreed to plead, for that evening's work,
the promise which seemed one of peculiar beauty to
us just then, " They that sow in tears shall reap in

joy."

As we walked^ through the village we saw a
group of young men, who were described to us as
" the roughest lot as ever come to Beckenham." At
the first words addressed to them they looked sur-
prised, and somewhat disposed to walk away; but
they soon began to shew signs of pleasure in the
cordial interest taken in their prospects, and in hear-
ing better information concerning the country they
were bound for, than it had been in their power to
obtain before. At the first few words about " another
country," the smile of one bright, young face spread

MORE HEARTS TO WIN. 151

into a broad laugh ; but before we parted an expres-
sion of grave and serious feeling was there instead.

I briefly told the story of grace touching him
whom we had seen for the last time on earth that
day year. For a moment one or two seemed dis-
posed to doubt its truth ; so I said, " The young lady
by my side is Ms sister, ''"' They almost started; and
sympathy, as gently respectful as any man in England
could manifest, was expressed in their countenances
and manners. An Irishman, called Tom Hagan,
said, after a few moments' silence, " I'm not a gentle-
man like he, but I'm a brother, and have a little
sister that I love, so I can feel for her."

We had their hearts and confidence, then, for we
stood upon equal ground. We had met them with
friendly interest; they had returned it with gene-
rous sympathy. So it was easy to ask and obtain
the promise of their attendance in church next day —
a promise kept by all ; and in the evening we met
again for a cottage-reading.

By Monday night they had added to their num-
bers for another ^' reading," and listened with earnest
attention.

We went to some of their lodging-houses the next
evening to leave some little books. At one of these
houses the landlady remarked, " I have three of the
tallest, darkest, wildest men lodging here that I ever
set eyes on. But one of them cried like a child

152 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

for an hour or fo after he came back from last
night's readmg, .'nd said he wislied he might have
listened to it ell night. His name is Richard
J ."

We promised to wait till he came in ; and just then
the doorway w^s filled by a figure of magnificent
strength and bf auty, whose very royal bearing con-
(.rasted rather amusingly with his speech, '^ I can't
abear to wa)/: into the room where the ladies are
sitting ; I am so horrible dirty." He was a man in

the meridian of life, named William W , who

had been a private in the 88th Regiment; but was
now dressed in the dusty fustian of a working man.
He had married a wife in a position of life which he
thought somewhat superior to his own, and had pur-
chased his discharge, to obtain, instead, " waterside
work " at his native place, Sunderland. He con-
fided to me that he was sadly troubled in his mind
about having left his wife without a word of kind-
ness for a farewell. They had quarrelled ; he went
out to drink, as too often was his wont, and had been
led into the railway carriage by his friends in a state
of unconsciousness.

" Had he written to her since, and expressed his
regret?"

^' He could not write himself, but a mate had done
it for him, and she would not answer."

" Should I write at his dictation ? '*

MORE HEARTS TO WIN. 153

His countenance brightened, and the evening and
hour were fixed for the purpose.

When I said a word or two ahout the misery
which sin always brought, he interrupted me by ex-
claiming, " Now, don't ye say any more about that.
You pressed me so hard about it at the reading
that I could have cried out, and I did when I got
back."

"And did you cry to God?"

" I did ; and have prayed that pretty prayer you
taught us, every night since."

Just then the other men came in, and we all knelt
down for prayer.

Ten minutes after I had left these fine, impulsive,
full-grown cliildren with tears upon their cheeks,
they were fighting with knives !

Two letters were lying on the table for the men
who came in last. They were from their wives ; and
these men began to taunt William about the silence
of his wife. He could not stand it, and seized his
supper-knife. Just as they were attacking each
other, the landlady nobly rushed between them, ex-
claiming, " Stop, for the lady's sake, stop. It will
break her heart to hear of your fight, and after that
])rayer, too."

The men desisted, and sat down ashamed. She
then told William W to seek lodgings else-
where. He was received at a public-house — a

154 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

dangerous home for a man with his propensity ta
intemperance.

The evening he had appointed came, hut no Wil-
liam W appeared; nor did I see him again for

some days.

Several of these strangers walked to Elmer's End —
a hamlet at one extremity of the parish — for the cot-
tage-reading, which is always held there on Friday
evening. One, after conferring with his friends,
remarked to me, " I wish the whole lot could hear
these things. We're all together outside the Crystal
Palace at seven of a morning ; and the paymaster
says we're the finest lot he ever saw, and the wildest
■ — ^just like four hundred roaring lions."

The hint was taken, and by seven o'clock the

next morning, L and I drove to the ground

appointed, where we found about fifty men assem-
bled. We sent the carriage away for a time, and
occupied ourselves at first in distributing little
books and cards of prayer. Conversation easily
followed; and by the time the remainder of the
four hundred began to make their appearance, the
first fifty had become our firm friends. Not one
uncivil word was said ; not one unwillirg hand
received the prayer. As they gathered round in
increasing circles, I was struck with the earnest-
ness of their listening countenances. They were
the most peculiar body of men whom I have ever

MORE HEARTS TO WIN. 155

met. Advertised for, in this first instance, for strength
alone — men, whose muscle and sinew constituted
their character, and whose working power, therefore,
stood for their morale^ were thus gathered together on
that ground from all parts of the country. The north
of England had sent most — from Lancashire, Dur-
ham, and Northumberland. But we had our Cornish
men, too, and our Kentish, and a sprinkling from
nearly all the coast; and a knot of "kindly Scots,"
and some warm-hearted Irish Roman Catholics.

Wild they might be; and absolutely undisciplined,
doubtless, they were ; but it is difficult to judge hardly
of those who received every friendly advance with a
cordial but ever-respectful confidence ; who combined
their manly courtesy with the trust of childhood ;
and who valued the kindly regard shewn them, during
a few weeks of intercourse, so warmly, as to be
unable to speak of it, many months afterwards, with-
out emotion. And here I may mention, that in all
my acquaintance with working men, never have they
let me hear a single oath, nor one expression which
could, in the remotest degree, shock or pain me.

In the background of the furthest circle, on the

morning just referred to, stood William W ^

vainly trying to conceal himself, remarkable for
height and strength even amongst that remarkable
four hundred. When he saw that I had perceived
liim, he bowed gravely and respectfully ; and, as we

156 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

drove away from the crowd, I appointed him io call
at the Eectory the same evening, that I might falfil
my promise of writing to his wife for him. We left
with many a kindly " God bless ye," to cheer us on
our homeward way.

At one o'clock a woman came to the Rectory, ask-
ing to " see the lady who had spoken to the navvy
men ; because her husband had sent her to have the
same things said to her." She said he had been a
hard drinker, and very unkind to her ; and " that he
had refused to allow her any part of his wages during
his absence in the Crimea. But when she came down
to Sydenham that morning, he had said that he had
just been hearing things which made him wish to
live different; and that he would allow her twenty
shillings a-week out of his thirty shillings' wages,
and wished they could both turn good, and be friends.
After what he had heard about the good Saviour's
love, he did not wish to live in hate, leastways with
his own wife." Here the woman wept, and added,
" I never heard the like from him, nor half such
kind words since he became a London navvy five
years ago."

On the Sunday week, both husband and wife walked
from Londorij for the afternoon service at Beckenham
Church, and were invited into the Rectory afterwards
for refreshment. I asked him what were the words
which God had made a message to his heart on the

MORE HEARTS TO WfN. 157

day they liad first met ? He replied, " The story of
the young officer, who had read in another man's Bible
that the blood of Jesus Christ clean seth from all sin,
and had made up his mind at once to live as a washed
man should — and then you said as we had better
begin that morning, and so I did; and have been
going on the same ever since, by God's help."

Punctual to his appointment, William W came

at seven o'clock that Saturday evening. He was
shewn into the dining-room on his arrival, where I
found him taking a lively interest in the portraits on
the wall, and the size of the folio volumes in the

book-cases. He said afterwards to Mary E , " She

had me into a sitting-room, and it was just like
heaven : such a sight of books, and such a large din-
ner-table." A luxury which, I suppose, we can
hardly appreciate, w^ithout attempting to dine at a
cottage dinner-table, some two feet in diameter, en-
circled by seven or eight children, and at last to find
we must retreat to take refuge in a chimney corner,
reduced to resting our plate upon our knees.

When I had brought in my portfolio, and asked
William W to dictate his letter, his look of ani-
mated observation was subdued at once into grave
though tfulness.

That letter was a sacred confidence between tw(
hearts, of which I was in all honour bound to con-
sider myself but as the mere pen to communicate

158 MOKE HEARTS TO WIN.

But to the liigh tojie, which it conveyed, of that man's
moral feeling, to his sensitiveness of conscience, to
his noble and manly frankness in the confession of
that which pressed upon his heart, to a wife who was
then imsoftened towards him — no description couhl
do justice.

When I had written three or four pages, he paused,
and 1 inquired what else he would like me to say.

" Nothing more, ma'am, thank you."

"Then how would you like to conclude?"

" Not to conclude yet, if you please."

I looked perplexed. After a moment's hesitation
he added earnestly, " Please, ma'am, would you work
up her feelings a bit ?"

^^ If your letter fails to do so," I silently thought,
" my postscript will be to little purpose indeed."

However, I saw that his heart was set upon this,
and accordingly I added a vivid description of the pro-
bable dangers of his life in the Crimea, and suggested
that she would not be altogether happy if she should
hear of his death there, without having written him
one word of forgiving love.

The combination of letter and postscript did its
work well ; for she left Northumberland for Becken-
ham within twenty-four hours aft3r she had received it.

When William had heard the whole letter read,
and had pronounced it ''as just what it should be,"
he confessed frankly, but with an expression of deep

MORE HEARTS TO WIN. 159

remorse and shame, that he had been very unkind to
his wife when he was under the influence of intoxi-
cating liquors.

" Never otherwise, I am sure, William ! You are
not the sort of man who could be unkind to a woman,
except when you are not yourself^

The tears stood in his eyes ; " I don't think I could
be, least of all to my good wife. I married when I
was a boy, as ye may say, twenty-three years ago ;
and Margaret is as good a wife as any man was ever
tied to."

This led to my urging him to give up drinking —
to make a resolution at once about it, in the strength
of the Lord of Hosts.

I told him that I could not bear to see men with
fine intellects, and noble generous natures, degrading
themselves lower than the beasts that perish j and
then I spoke of the dignity of man before the fall,
when he lived in the likeness of Him who had created
him ; and not alone his restoration, but his elevation
to a still higher dignity by the life and death of the
God-man, Jesus Christ our Lord — who had redeemed
us unto God by His blood, and had made us " kings
and priests unto our God."

There was something wonderfully interesting in
watching the latent intellect and fine feeling in that
remarkable man burst forth, as he listened to truths
*bat were new to him then j and which opened the

160 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

way to a higher and holler life for him thenceforth.
The tears glittered in his eyes, and his whole counte-
nance grew radiant. Little did he think that before
another year had passed, he should have entered into
eternity; to realise in full, as I humbly hope and
trust, through the merits of his Eedeemer, that high
and holy life, the first glimpse of which had wrought
upon his soul so powerfully.

After the concluding prayer at the cottage, the next
evening, he knelt on, with his face covered, after the
others had risen up. A day or two later I took occa-
sion to speak with the landlord of the public-house
where he lodged. I rejoiced to hear him remark —
" We have a man here, madam, who will thank God,
I believe, that he ever came to Beckenham. He sat
up with me for an hour and a half on Sunday night,
and said he had felt as he had never felt before, at
that reading and prayer, and seemed ready to cry any
minute ; I never saw a man more in earnest. He
told me that he had had terrible fits of drinking, but
that he wanted to give it all up now. And, says he,
^ Landlord, don't ask me to take a glass, because I'm
weak still, ye see, like a new-born baby.' "

Just then William W walked in, and requested

to be allowed to speak with me alone for a moment.
A letter from his wife had crossed his own. He had
carefully wrapped it in various papers, and for further
safety all were bound up in a crimson pocket hand-

MORE HEARTS TO WIN. 161

kerchief. Its contents were not v<^ry remarkable ;
but lie said "it was kinder than he deserved," and
his heart was gladdened. He said '' he had got a
friend to write a line for her to come to Beckenham,
if she liked. It could be paid for out of his wages.
He should like to see her once again, and hear her
say a kind good-bye."

These " country gentlemen " of the working classes
— men of free, warm hearts and open hands — never
harass themselves on the question of " What will it
cost?" And least of all where their affections are
concerned.

At this time Thomas Dibley and some others,
whom we had formerly known, returned to lodge in
Beckenham previously to going out to the Crimea,
and joined with the strangers, with whom we were
just making acquaintance, in attending the cottage-
readings, which were held almost every evening, as
the time was short, and many more wished to be
present than could be accommodated at one time.

We now drove regularly to the place appointed
for their "roll-call" each morning; and always met
with a cordial and respectful reception. On Whit-
Tuesday a general invitation was given for those
who would like " a cottage- reading" under the
trees on the Kectory lawn, to assemble for that pur-
pose at ten in the morning. As rain came on, the
coach-house -was cleared, and sejpjiP^"% eighty took

162 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

shelter there, and listened with lively interest to the
9th chapter of Acts, and other portions of St Paul's
wonderful biography. Then my father came, and
addressed them, and prayed with them. Many were
in tears as they rose up, and thanked us heartily.

On the next Sunday morning, John R , a

navvy of considerable education and natural talent,
who had great influence with his companions, called
to say that a large number of the men, who were
within walking distance, had agreed to come from
their various quarters to attend Beckenham Church
in the afternoon, and then to assemble on the Eectory
lawn, if permitted, for a farewell address and prayer
for themselves, believing it would be their last Sun-
day before leaving England.

Every aisle and every corner of the church were
crowded with these men, who listened with profound
attention, and especially when my father earnestly
addressed them at the close of his sermon.

For some little time after the service was over,
they walked about the Eectory grounds in com-
panies, taking scrupulous care of the borders of beds
in the floAver garden. About a hundred were there.
Each man received a Testament, with his name
written in it, and a Cottage Hymn-book. Then they
formed a half circle before the hall door, and united
in singing Cowper's hymn, beginning,

" There is a fountain fill'd with blood."

^Pi ill.' ■ , ■

MORE HEARTS TO WIN. 163

Mr Chalmers then addressed thera, and afterwards
Captain Vandeleur.

Those who had walked from a distance were
invited to remain and have some tea ; but it grieved
us that any should go away without it. So the next
day we consoled ourselves by writing an invitation
to all who had come for any of these gatherings for
religious purposes to meet at the Rectory that after-
noon for tea, coffee, and cake. A deputation of four
arrived to refuse it ! " They had rather not."

I felt pained ; and probably they saw this, for a
noble fellow, named Job liesketh, said, " Don't ye
think we shouldn't like it ; but it goes against us,
after that sight of beautiful books you have given us,
to take anything more out of ladies' pockets. Why,
we've cost you a fortune already."

We explained that the pleasure was beyond the
expense of tea, coffee, and cake, and that we could
not bear to be disappointed ; but that, as it was
growing late, the tea-party should be changed into
a breakfast-party for the following morning.

Job Hesketh said, " I shall want you to put by a
pound a-week for me, and to spend the interest of it
on your scholars, like us, that you want books for."

" Thank you. Job ; but I would rather put by the
interest for you, and you shall give it to God your-
self, Avhen you come back by His kind care."

*^ Well, you'd do it best, anyhow. And we're all

164 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

saying we'd feel our money safer in a lady's hands
than in our own, any day."

Job was alter wards discharged by the surgeon, as
unfit to go to the Crimea, owing to an injury to his
chest, from the blow of a cricket-ball. He looked
the picture of health and strength.

In the afternoon we drove to the Palace, and found
several new faces. They wished their names to be
written down for the gift of Testaments, and begged
that the list might be preserved to insure their being

remembered afterwards. L overheard one of

them saying, '• She will have we to become religious."

An overflowing number came to the cottage-read-
ing that evening. I heard men sobbing outside the
open door. On my way back a respectable and
nice-looking young woman stopped me, exclaiming,
in a voice half choked by tears, " I've come from
Sunderland to see my husband a changed man ; and,
oh, ma'am — God for ever bless you — it would be
worth going to the world's end to see him so." It
was Richard J 's wife.

William W had brought Ms wife to the Rectory

two or three evenings before. She was a very re-
spectable-looking person, who spoke her mother-
tongue without any vernacular, and had very good
manners. He was decidedly proud of her, as ^' upper
crust," according to his own expression. There was
something truly great in the way in which he

MORE HEARTS TO WIN. 165

listened to her exposition of his faults — great in its
manly, yet humble acquiescence. A sort of manner
which said, " She can't say too much, for I know too
well that I deserve a great deal more."

At length I ventured to suggest that bygones
should be bygones, and that we should all strive, by
the grace of God, to follow the example of the father
in our Saviom^'s wondrously beautiful parable of the
prodigal son, who welcomed his penitent back to his
bosom, without one word of reproach, and called for
all the treasures and honours of his house to lavish
upon the beloved one.

To my satisfaction she replied, " 0 yes, ma'am 5
and it is only to make you see how great the change
is that I have been telling you of wliat went before
it."

Half-past ten was the hour appointed the next
morning for the breakfast-party. The gates were
thrown open ; and we felt rather surprised when the
hour came and none entered. But on walliing to the
chief entrance, my sister found the three roads which
met there literally lined with men, '^ waiting for one
of tl\e family to bid them welcome before they could
take the liberty of coming in." They walked to the
lawn four abreast, and sat doAvn under the shade of
the old trees. It was a most picturesque scene.
Those magnificent men, who might have been coveted
for the Queen's company in the Grenadier Guards,

1G6 MORE HEARTS TO WIN.

dressed in their easy and becoming costume of white
'' slops," here and there diversified by a blouse, with
rose-red neck-ties. They were very quiet, but very
cheerful — ready for any little joke from those who
waited upon them. Captain Yandeleur was in pecu-
liar favour in this point of view, and also for the sake
of his fresh information from the Crimea, whence he
had just arrived. As we were to leave home that
day, and the men expected to sail for the Crimea
within two days later, I shook hands with them all
after breakfast, and bade them farewell. Then Mr
Chalmers prayed, and all their voices joined with
his, audibly, as they knelt on the turf; and then
they rose to sing " The Parting Hymn " in the
Cottage Hymn-book.

An hour afterwards we left Beckenham to go into
Essex. They were all " lining the roads " again
by the Eectory gates, waiting for another farewell.
Some of the younger men had proposed to cheer us
as we passed, but the elder ones had said ^' it was
too solemn for that." So there they st )od, with hats
held high above their heads, voice after voice mur-
muring '' God bless yel"

CHAPTER XII.

Deal gently with the erring I

Ye know not of the power
"With which the dark temptation camc^

In some unguarded hour.
Ye may not know how earnestly

He struggled, or how well.

Until the hour of darkness came.

And sadly thus he fell.
* * * •

Heir of the self-same heritage.
Child of the self-same God,

He hath but stumbled in the paA
Thou hast in weaknefs trod,"

The expedition ol the first detacliment of tiie Army
Works Corps met with a considerable delay in its
embarkation for the Crimea ; and the men were con-
sequently remanded to the neiglibomhood of the
Crystal Palace.

Until ten days after the date of the farewell break-
fast-party, Mr Chalmers was able to remain at
Beckenham, and to meet the men for a short service,
twice a-day, under a railway bridge in his parish,
very near the Crystal Palace grounds. He found
them uniformly attentive and grateful. They attached
themselves to him heartily, calling him " our parson,"
and always inquiring for him afterwards with unqua-
lified afiection and regard.

A few days afterwards, Mr Chalmers having been
obliged to leave home for a time, a sort of " round-
robin '' reached me, containing a pressing request
from the navvies for my immediate return, " to give
them some more good advice before they should go
away from their own country, perhaps never to
return."

170 HAKD FIGHTING WITH OLD FOES.

This appeal at once recalled me ; and as we drove
from the Sydenham station I passed several of their
friendly faces, and received many a hearty welcome.
On my way to the cottage for a gathering of as many
as C3uld be called together at so short a notice, I saw

William W standing at the door of the small

inn where he lodged. He turned his head away, and
I felt too sure that all was not right with him. His
wife stood by his side, and said, ^' Oh, ma'am, whilst
the Kector was here, and had him up to family
prayers every day at the Rectory, he went on as well
as ever you saw him, but he has fallen back since
terribly."

It saddened me so much that I could hardly speak
just then, so I only said, "Come with me to hear
God's Word, and to pray to Him, whatever may
have happened."

They came; and William wept as he heard of
St Peter's fall and recovery, and of his great love for
his Master ever after, and how his heart warmed as
he wrote of having been not " redeemed by corruptible
things," but " by the precious blood of Christ."

On Sunday afternoon a large number came to
church, and into the Rectory grounds afterwards. The
weather was threatening, so they were invited into
the house, and filled the inner and outer hall, and the
rooms opening into them. They seemed much in
earnest, and nearly every voice united in prayer, after

HARD FIGHTING WITH OLD FOES. 171

we had read the first chapter of St Peter's First
Epistle.

William W was not there j neither had he been

seen at church, morning or afternoon. It was clear
that he was determined now to take the downward
path, and to avoid whatever would remind him of his
better hopes and purposes. The only thing left was
to go and seek him out, like the woman, who, when
siie had lost her piece of silver, s^ept diligently until
she had found it.*

At the door of the inn where William lodged stood
the landlord's niece. She enteied heartily into the
wish to see him reclaimed ; and led me into a quiet

sitting-room, whither she sent for Mrs W . The

poor wife told me, that the day after Mr Chalmers
had left Beckenham, some old friends of William's
had come to see him, near the Palace grounds, and had
reproached him for being too religious now to " treat "
them, and had called him " near " (the fatal word
which drives so many of these poor fellows back into
sin). He was stung to the quick, and then sold his
clothes, in order to feast his friends with the money

thus made. Mrs W seemed iQUch distressed, and

joined fervently with me in prayer for her husband, and
for grace and wisdom for herself to enable her to win
him gently back again. Then she went to see if she
could persuade him to come and see me, but she said

* Luke XV. 8,

172 HARD FIGHTING WITH OLD FOES.

" he had ahnost vowed that he never would again."
'Where was the good," he argued, " of bemg pulled
up to be better for a day or two, only to go down the
lower afterwards ? "

" Tell him," I said, " that I shall stay here until
he comes." A long time passed. It was close upon
the hour of the cottage-reading. At length a slow,
unwilling step was on the stair. It was William's.
The door was opened by his wife; and closing it
upon him, she slipped away. He sat down with a
sullen, desponding countenance, and made no answer
to anything I remarked or inquired, until at last he
said, in a low but determined voice, '' It is no use at
all ; I have sold my soul to the devil."

" But he shall not have it, William ; it is not yours
to sell ! Jesus Christ has bought it with His own
blood. Oh, William, I must — I w411 have it for
Jesus Christ."

I could not say more, for my voice failed ; but
his whole countenance altered, like the face of a man
fi'om whom an evil spirit had gone out. The strong
man bowed his head and Avept. " What shall I do ?
what can I do ? "

'' You can pray. Let us pray now."

He laid his head on the table as he knelt, and
cried like a child. He had become " a little
child " again j in the sense of our Saviour's words,
"Except ye be converted, and become as little

HARD FIGHTING WITH OLD FOES. 173

children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of
heaven."

As he rose up, I asked, " Did you pray, too ? "
" A little," he replied, with characteristic truthful-
ness.

He and his wife were at the cottage-reading
almost immediately afterwards. When we sang the
hymn, beginning,

*' Come, thou fount of every blessing,"

he was much affected ; and he could only " make
melody in his heart to the Lord " with lips that
trembled too much to sing, as we came to the last

verses —

*' Jesus sought me, when a stranger.
Wandering from the fuld of God,
He, to save my soul from danger.
Interposed His precious blood.

" Oh, to grace how great a debtor
Daily I 'm constrain'd to be ;
May that grace, Lord, like a fetter.
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

** Prone to wander. Lord, 1 feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love ;
Here 's my heart — Lord, take and seal it^
Seal it from Thy courts above 1 **

The 18th of June was a day of intense interest. A
report had reached me that the men would leave the
neighbourhood to go on board the following morn-

174 HARD FIGHTlNa WITH OLD FOES.

ing. In consequence of this, M L and I

drove to the Crystal Palace grounds by eight in the
morning to take leave of them, and to give Testa-
ments, &c., to all who had not yet received them.
The men were gathered in groups in front of their
tents. An officer ot the corps kindly arranged them
in companies of fifty — comprising two "gangs" in
each, with the "gangers" at their head — to be
addressed separately. They were all grave and
grateful; and many expressed thankfulness to God
for having led them to this neighbourhood.

Previously to this interview, I had offered to take
charge of any portion of their large wages which
they chose to empo ver me to receive for them during
their engagement in the Crimea, to deposit them in
the Savings' Bank, in the form of a Friendly Club,
and to keep a private account for each man. A
large number of men gladly accepted this proposition.
Many of them requested us to forward to needy
relatives a portion of the money thus saved, which
varied from ten tc twenty shillings weekly. Kot
only wives and children were thus provided for, but
amongst the majority, who had no such ties, an aged
mother, an infirm vather, a widowed sister, a sickly
brother, or orphan nieces, were remembered, with a
generous care for their comfort, in this " time of their
wealth " by those who toiled for it night and day in
the service of their country, and in many car?c? paid

HARD FIGHTING WITH OLD FOES. J 70

for it by laying down their strong, young lives c?^
that unhealthy shore.

Strangers, as the majority of those who daih
arrived to swell the ranks necessarily Avere to us
and the rest only friends of a few weeks' standing,
I thought it but right to give a stamped receipt tc
each man for the money-order which had been drawn
out in my name, and carried these receipts to the
Crystal Palace grounds on tlie afternoon of the 18th.
It must have been a noble trustfulness in those
manly natures which made them fling back those
receipts into the carriage, by common consent, with
something like a shout of disdain at the supposition
that they could possibly require such a pledge of
honesty from a friend and a lady.

On the back of those money-orders we wrote their
"wills" — the disposition of the property thus
entrusted to us, in case they should not be spared to
return to claim it. This afforded us an opportunity
of quiet conversation and prayer with each man, as
they visited the Rectory at all hours on their pecuniary
matters.

Numbers whom I cannot name here interested ua

deeply. James C y, a youth of about nineteen

or twenty years of age, told me that he was an orphan,
and had a young sister whom he should like me
to watch over. He said, " ]\Iother's dying words are
always on ray mind, and I think God has helped me

176 HARD FIGHTING WITH OLD FOES.

to trust in Him, live steady, and take care of my
sister, as she bid me with ahnost her last breath."
His countenance, remarkable for its pure and peaceful
simplicity, bore witness to his words.

On the evening of the 18th of June, I walked
through the village for the cottage-reading. William

W and his wife were waiting for me on the slope

near the church; she was looking hopeful and happy,
and he. full of earnest feeling.

At the cottage we read the fifth chapter of the
Second Epistle to the Corinthians, and illustrated the
words, " We must all appear before the judgment-
scat of Christ," by the wonderful parable of Matthew
XXV. 31-46. We humbly believed that the Holy
Spirit's life-giving presence was there, making the
words, which the Lord Jesus Himself had spoken,
"spirit and life" to our souls. We felt it to be our
little Waterloo — and called it so. Battles were fought
and won ; souls were trampling down their old ene-
mies, sin and Satan, by the mighty help of the Great
Captain of their Salvation.

Kichard J and William W , two of the men

who had lately fought with knives, were sitting near
each other, with overflowing eyes, and with brotherly
love in their countenances. The hands that wrung
mine at parting had been lifted up in prayer to the King
eternal, as they pledged themselves, by His grace, to be
His faithful soldiers and servants to their lives' end.

CHAPTER XIIL

^i Mi'

*' it is nothing with Thee to help, whether with many or with them
thftt have no power."

Tuesday came, but brought with it no order for
the men to embark ; so we met again, morning and
evening. At night their wages were paid in full.

Was it wonderful that, out of six or seven hundred
men, who had received full wages, with no work for
some weeks, with no officers on the spot to super-
intend them, and no restriction save the morning and
evening roll-call — a number, somewhat under a hun-
dred, should spend that night in drinking, taking
it for granted that it was their last in England?
It is only just to state that none of the regular attend-
ants at the ^^ cottage-readings " joined in that revelry;
but some there were beneath whose wild spirits I had
discerned a deeper tone, and of whom I had before
— and have again, thank God ! — a better hope.

On Wednesday afternoon we drove to the Crystal
Palace gates to inquire when the embarkation was
likely to take place. Two of the men of business of
the Corps were standing there, and came to the carriage
to entreat me to drive to Penge without a moment's
loss of time. *' There is a fight going on between the

180 THE FIGHT.

police and some of our men," they said; '^ and if you
ask them, they will go away quietly, drunk or sober."
The duty was plain — so we did as we were bidden.
On reaching Penge, I saw two policemen who were
terribly hurt ; but the mob had dispersed, and seven
men had been taken prisoners. After we had done
what we could for the wounded police, they told
me that about fifty navvies, who were all more
or less intoxicated, had formed a ring, and a few
began boxing. Two women became frightened,
and insisted upon a policeman entering the ring
to stop the fight. The policeman, a brave but
prudent man, argued, very discreetly, that " if they
were let alone they would soon be tired of fight-
ing under a burning sun, and would fall asleep and
wake up ashamed ; but that if a staiF were laid about
them, they would be roused into tigers." But the
women were not to be persuaded by logic, and insisted
on his encountering the crowd of combatants. At first
they defeiTcd to authority so far as to remove their
ground to some distance ; but upon the policeman's
second attack, truncheon in hand, with which vigorous
blows were dispensed right and left, the natural result
occurred — the boxing men made common cause against
an armed foe. A second policeman came up, and fought
desperately, but both were compelled by the numbers to
retreat to the house of the first. The crowd followed,
and its leaders broke in. Women and children were

THE FIGHT. 181

carefully put aside, even in that moment of fury, mad-
dened as they were by intoxication; but their rage
with men who had struck them with bludgeons knew
no bounds. It was a matter of thankful astonishment
that the two policemen escaped with their lives on that
unhappy day. In the thick of the fight, two or three
gentlemen came up with a fresh force of police ; and
to the gentlemen the principal men concerned in the
fight surrendered themselves, whilst the rest dispersed
to their various quarters.

About an hour later, the men of the Corps came
from the different villages where they lodged for their
usual afternoon roll-call at the Crystal Palace Office.
Hearing rumours of the recent fight, they stopped to
inquire particulars ; and at this moment a fresh de-
tachment of police arrived. These had heard that two
of their fraternity had been murdered ; and supposing
that the men around them were the guilty combatants,
began knocking down and taking prisoners promis-
cuously.

Our coachman begged me to allow him to drive
amidst the crowd to the Crystal Palace, as a restraint

to violence on both sides. Eichard J 's wife was

nearly fainting. I bade him place her in the back of
the phaeton and walk by the side, for which he re-
ceived three heavy blows between his shoulders from
an official truncheon, probably under its owner's
notion that Richard was taking an unwarrantable

182 THE FIGHT.

liberty. I saw the northern navvy's dark eyes flash
fire, and his arm uplifted to return the blow. One
entreaty made it drop quietly by his side. Kemp
stopped the ponies for me to shake that hand heartily
with a " Thank you, Eichard ! I honour you from my
soul. If Lord Raglan has got Sebastopol by now, I
hold you the greater man at this moment ; for God's
Word says, ^ He that ruleth his spirit is greater than
he that taketh a city.' "

" I'd have borne a dozen blows for this," said he,
heartily.

A sort of captain amongst the men, named John
Thorndale, who, from his bright, cheerful spirits,
strength, and manliness, had a leader's place always
accorded him, at this moment dragged the policeman
who was collaring him to the side of the carriage, and
appealed, " You know me : speak for me ! You
know I never drink or fight."

" I know it, John, and will answer for you in every
court in England ; but for pity's sake go quietly now
with the policeman, if he will not take my word for
your character. The worst will be a night in prison.
I will have you freed to-morrow j and if you begin a
fight now, there will be bloodshed."

Just then a great accession of navvies poured down
from the top of the hill, and from the Crystal Palace
gates, with cries of " Down with the police ! — rescue
the prisoners ! — punish the police well ! "

THE FIGliT. 183

The police stood to their arms gallantly enough,
for the numbers against them were overwhelming, and
the men not unjustly enraged. The moment was
come. We drove between ; and, like Nehemiah, in
that moment's pause ^* I prayed to the God of hea-
ven." Then, turning to the crowd of some five hun-
dred men with already upraised missiles, I said, ^^ The
first man who throws a stone is my enemy. We
will have no more fighting to-day, by God's help !
Haven't we had enough of it already — two policemen
nearly killed, and seven of our poor fellows perhaps
to be transported for life, or hanged, if the wounded
men die. Go back and give over, for my sake — for
the sake of that God of peace of whom I have so loved
to speak with you."

A brief silence followed, and then some remon-
strated : ^' Do you go away, ma'am. We wouldn't
hurt you for anything ; but it is not fair to hinder us
paying off the p'leece."

" I shall not go away till you are gone, if I stay
here till midnight. You will not murder men before
my eyes, T know."

^'We don't v»ant to vex you," said two or three
spokesmen ; " hit we will set our mates free."

" They shall be free," I said — " these innocent
men whom we have seen taken prisoners before our
eyes. If there be justice in England, they sliall
be free to go with you to the Crimea. I pledge

184 THE FIGilT.

myself not to rest till it is done. Will you trast
me?"

There was a pause; and then a short conference
between leading spirits was followed by loud shouts
of "Trust ye to the world's end!"

" Then prove it by going back within the Crystal
Palace gates."

In five minutes I was left alone with the police and
with the prisoners.

The police were very grateful, saying, "YouVe
saved a deal of bloodshed." They promised me to
deal gently with the prisoners, and willingly then
gave me back John Thorndale, for whose good cha-
racter I could answer. It was " worth a king's ran-
som " to see his fine yoimg face brilliant with smiles
of joyful gratitude at finding himself free again, and
to hear the shouts of the crowd as we restored to them
their favourite. We met the superintendent at the
foot of the hill, collecting fresh forces, but assured
him that the precaution was unnecessary. He ex-
pressed his surprise and gratitude.

An hour after, Mr Chalmers, who had just then re-
turned from Essex, drove back with me to see that all
was still peaceful. They welcomed him with warm
affection, and told the story of the afternoon with great
point ; adding, " A lady's gentle voice do more with
us than forty thousand p'leece." They were all in
high good-humour, shouting, " God bless the peace-

THE FIGHT. 185

maker! " till their kindly voices must have been tired ;
and then they were ready to listen seriously to Mr
Chalmers' service.

We thanked God heartily for the peaceful close of
that day; nor could we help saying likewise —
Honour to the noble natures, who, with the passion of
revenge at its height, and with overwhelming num-
bers to insure for the moment its fearful success,
ebbed back, like a quiet tide, at the earnest entreaty
of a woman whom they held their friend, and ful-
filled the Divine command, " In malice be ye chil-
dren."

CHAPTER XiV.

3mu ltot^^rfeo0Jr*

" The manliest man that you saw going in ."i ragged coat, did yea
reverence him 1 Did you so much as know that he was a manly man afc
all, till his coat grew bettw t "

In tlie midst of the general enthusiasm which wrought
up the feelings of this crowd of men, on the occasion
just described, into an unusual state of excitement,
eflfervescing in great good-humour, as just before it
had been on the point of exploding in indignant
wrath and rage, there was no lessening, but rather
an increase of their respectful courtesy of demeanour.
Universal was their condemnation of one poor
man, from whom I heard the only word which ever
reached my ears from the lips of a working man
which could possibly be construed into an expression
of disrespect. A half-intoxicated navvy, amidst the
general overflow of kindly feeling, committed him-
self by saying three or four times over, " She's my
sister ! "

" What do you mean,'' cried the indignant by-
standers, " by daring to call the lady your sister !
Say it again, and we'll teach you ! Take care you
don't get torn in pieces ! " And strong arms were
seizing the unfortunate culprit to bear him outside
the ring. Fearing a measure of "Lynch law," I

190 HUMAN BROTHEEHOOD.

entreated to be allowed to settle the question for
myself, and requested that the man should be per-
mitted to come near the carriage for this purpose.
When he stood by my side, I said to him, " Every
sober, honest Englishman is my brother, and I am
proud to call him so. But I have never had a
drunkard for my brother — and 1 never will."

The poor man had sense enough left to be ashamed,
and he slunk quietly away, amidst a murmur of satis-
faction and approval of the verdict from the crowd.
The next day he made a respectful apology, adding,
with genuine frankness, " From this day forward, I'll
try to be one of the ^ sober Englishmen ; ' I think I'm
an honest one already."

It may be well to state here, that by the time the
first ship sailed for the Crimea we had been able to
prove to the satisfaction of the magistrate of the
police court, to whose kindness and jonsideration we
felt much indebted, that the men who were taken
prisoners under our eyes were innocent of the previous
fight, and accordingly they were all set free, to re-
sume their position in their Corps.

On the morning of the 21st of June, a message
reached me at the early hour of half-past five, to say
that the men were to embark at Blackwall that day.

By seven o'clock, M L and I entered the

Crystal Palace grounds, and remained till nine,
taking leave of the men. I thanked them from my

HUMAN BROTHERHOOD. 191

heart for their forhearance the previous day, and for
their generous courtesy and kindness in yielding to
my entreaty for peace ; adding, that I believed it to
be a distinct answer to my prayer to Almighty God
in that moment of terrible suspense.

After shaking hands with each man, I took my
leave, but was requested by an official to return, to
hear the subject of a communication which had been
passing from the men to the foremen of the Corps.
It was to express the united wish of these warm and
grateful hearts that I " should go out with them to the
Crimea, to keep them straight, and to be with any of
them who should die out there, in their last hours.
And they humbly begged to know if they might take
the best place on board for me, and pay for it amongst
themselves."

It went to my heart to refuse to do for them what
God might enable me, on that distant shore of danger
and death. But when I explained to them the sacred
home duties which withheld me from leaving England,
they recognised them at once as paramount claims,
and satisfied themselves by asking for a promise of
one more farewell visit, on board their ships, — a
promise, 1 need scarcely say, cheerfully given and
fulfilled.

Meantime, many letters from them followed me
into Essex, a few extracts from which are now
given : —

192 HUMAN BEOTHERHOOD.

" Grebnhive, June 23.
"Deae Feiend, — I hope you will excuse the liberty
I have taken in writing to you ; but my name is John

W . We should be most happy to see you on

board with us once more before we do sail. The
same God that protected Daniel in the lion's den, and
Jonah inside of the whale, can save me if I put my
trust in Him ; and I hope, if we should not meet again
in this world, I hope we shall meet in that upper and
better region, where troubles will be unknown. I
must conclude ; and may God guard you is the hourly
prayers of John W until death."

"Monday, June 24, 1855.

"My Dear Friend, — I write to tell you that

John S and me James C , went on board

ship on Saturday last, and we saw that old gentle-
man and that young lady on our ship, and we were
both happy to see them ; and we should be happiest
to see you, my dear friend, for there is much talk of
you on our ship amongst us men. Those little books
that you gave to us we find very acceptable in pass-
ing many an idle hour away, but not in idleness or
mocking God, but in sincerity and truth. And I
hope it will please the Almighty God to bring us
back safe to our dear friends again, and fill us with
the Holy Ghost for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.
We will write again as soon as we get to the Crimea,

HUMAN BROTHERHOOD. 193

and tell you the truth of the country, if it please God
to spare us. — So no more at present from your ever

well-wishing friends, " John S .

" James C ."

" Grbenhithe, June 25, 1855.

" Dear Madam, — I have just received your kind
letter, and am very thankful for your kindness. I
will endeavour to follow your directions, and keep
from drinking and swearing ; and I do not forget the
little prayer, but use it every night and morning.
Dear Madam, I hope you will not be offended with
me that I have enclosed the stamp, but when I con-
sider the expense and trouble you have already been
at, I think that it is very wrong to put you to any
more expense, or cause you any more trouble than we
can possibly help. I will now conclude with the best
wishes of all, and the sincere gratitude of yours, &c.,

" Thomas B— w— r."

*' June 25, 1855.

" Kind Lady, — It is with the greatest pleasure,
mixed with sorrow, that I write these few lines to
you, trusting you are well both in body and soul, as
it leaves me in body — but I cannot say I am happy ;
but I am determined not to rest till I am. happy
ill Christ my Saviour. But this I am not able
to do of myself; but I trust in the Lord for help, and

N

194 HUMAN BROTHERHOOD.

I am convinced I shall not trust in vain. I am sorry
to tell you that I am afrai.l we have not many pray-
ing men at present in my gang ; but I think we have
a few. But if I have to travel the road alone, by
God's help I will do so. But I will try to do all I
can to form a few together to serve God. May God
help us ; and let your kind prayers intercede for us.

" Kind Friend, — Tt is my desire that you will be so
kind as to take five slililings every month towards
anything tliat may be sent out to promote religion
among us sinful navvies. May the Lord bless you
and me ; and if we never more meet in this world,
may we meet at the right hand of God, there to
praise Him for ever and ever. I shall feel thankful
for a few lines from your kind hand. I remain your
humble servant, " John L ."

" Simoom Ship, Jiinell, 1855.

" Dear Friend, — I was very glad to hear that
letter read that you sent for all the men who were on
board. We gave three cheers for you, and three cheers
for Mr Wakefield as read it to us ; and I was very

much pleased to hear it, and so was John R and

Jacob K J so were we all very much pleased to

hear it. They said that it was the best letter they
ever heard in their lives. They all send their best re-
spects to you, and that pleased me most that ever I
have been since I have been in the Corps. I felt more

English Hearts.

p. 195

HUMAN BROTHERHOOD. 195

rejoiced than for some time before with them all ; for
I am sm-e jou would have liked to have been there to
have seen them. I know that I should have liked to
have seen yon there. So I must conclude with all
our kind loves to you for that letter you sent for us
all. The writer is Thomas Diblet."

On the 27th of June, my sister, G. V., and I left
Essex early in the morning for Blackwall, where we
imagined the ships would be anchored which were
to carry the " first battalion " (as it was now called)
of the i^rmy Works Corps to the Crimea. But on
arriving at Blackwall we found that the ships had
dropped down the river to Greenhithe ; and accord-
ingly we followed them as quickly as we could. The
only ship within sight from Greenhithe was the
Lanffdale, where a large number of the men were
simply kept in floating barracks, until the Simoom
was made ready for sailing. Cheery was the welcome
which pealed in hurrahs from the side by which our
little boat approached the ship. But a large number
had gone on shore, as they did not expect us that
day. " And how are we to tell them they've missed
you?" said one and another 5 ^^ Couldn't ye come
again to-morrow?"

We promised to telegraph to the friends with
whom we were staying in Essex that we should not
return to them till the next day ; and then the men

196 HUMAN BROTHERHOOD.

proposed our having "a cottage-reading" between
the decks before parting. One of the men of business
connected with the Corps came on shore with us, and
watched with evident interest every fresh meeting we
had with the men, who were returning In small com-
panies. Looking into a public-house, he said, ^^ There
are thirty of our men in a large sitting-room here ;
will you be afraid of going in? — they seem pretty
sober."

This was true ; the poor fellows rose up to welcome
us, and joined earnestly in a short prayer. Every
man of the thirty went back to the ship, sober, almost
immediately afterwards. When we passed through
the outer room the landlord and landlady thanked us
respectfully.

Just as we had seated ourselves In the train at
Greenhithe, a ^^ down-train " arrived with a large
number of the men who had been to London on leave.
It made my heait glow to see their faces brighten
with sudden surprise and joy, and to hear the ex-
clamations of '^ Why, Joe, yere's our kind lady — and
there be her sister — bless 'em! — Why, where ever
did they fall from?" The open window of our
carriage was suddenly darkened with a shoal of hands
stretched out for a farewell shake, to the evident
astonishment of two young gentlemen who sat op-
posite to us, enjoying the satisfaction of their very
delicate primrose- coloured gloves, which certainly

HUMAN BROTHEHHOOD. 197

were never intended to come in contact with such
brawny hands as those of our honest working men.

The next morning we went again to Greenhithe,
and had a solemn and yet delightful hour on board
the LangdaJe, We visited the Barvaclzjpm^e^ off
Blackwall, on our way back. The navvies manned
the rigging like sailors, and welcomed us with hearty

cheers. John E 's and Thomas Dibley's were

the first faces I recognised. It was the last time
I ever saw poor Dibley's grateful, beaming smile.
He and John had bought a charming little travel-
ling hand-bag for me, chosen by Thomas himself.
It was recognised by a shopman, with whom we
were in the habit of dealing, as I held it in my
hand a few days afterwards ; and he told me that he
had never had greater difficulty in '''• giving satisfac-
tion ; " " the navvy was so particular about the pattern
of the snap and steel chain ! " That bag has a sacred
value about it now.

Thomas H , a Roman Catholic, whom we saw

the first evenmg that a party of the Corps had come to
Beckenham for lodgings, shewed me that his Testa-
ment was safe in his waistcoat-pocket. One of the

numerous '^ John W 's " was there, and said, " I

was glad to have joined the Corps before that day you
shook hands with them in the Crystal Palace grounds
— I should have been proud for a year past to know
as I was coming in for it."

198 HUMAN BROTHERHOOD.

" Why, are you one of my old friends, John? I
had looked upon you as a stranger just arrived."

" Not quite a stranger, ma'am. In the hard frost at
the beginning of last year, you stopped me in the road
leading through Beckenham, and asked if I was ill or
hungry. I suppose I looked bad enough, for I had
slept on the snow the night before, and hadn't broke
my fast for twenty-four hours. So you took me to a
shop or two for something to eat, and ga-ve me a
shilling. It set me up like a fortune. I never wanted
from that day. Don't know but I should have
been lost without it. But what I cared most for was
your speaking to me firstj ye see, and saying you
knew navvies didn't like to beg — they only wanted
to work, and then to eat. I didn't know your name,
but I prayed God I might see your face again, — and
I knew it in a minute up at the Crystal Palace."

James C again asked me to be kind to his

good, young, orphan sister j and two or three left their
children under our care, making an allowance for their
maintenance to respectable persons in Beckenham.

Many pleasant, hopeful words were said, and then
the sound of their parting cheers rang till we reached
the shore.

The next morning's post brought a letter from the
chief officer of the Corps, conveying an earnest request
from the men that I would join them in their first
Sabbath service on board ship, as they were not to

HUMAN BROTHBRHOOD. 199

sail till the next day. The officer urged that it might
have a permanently advantageous effect upon the men,
by teaching them to set a value upon their newly
appointed chaplain's services.

Accordingly, on Saturday evening, L and I

went to London. We felt some difficulty about going
to and from the ship on the Sabbath-day. To go by
the railroad we felt was impossible : it might be set-
ting an example of Sabbath excursions to those who
might possibly recognise us, without any opportunity
being afforded of explaining our object and errand.
The steamboat had similar disadvantages. We then
determined to engage a cab for the day ; and to tell
the cabman to put up his horse, and then to accompany
us on board for Divine service. I may as well mention
now, that when we returned to London, this cabman
expressed himself as so much pleased with his Sabbath
that he begged to be allowed to return half the fare,
and seemed almost uneasy at being made to pocket it.

The chief officer of the Corps and two others cour-
teously came on shore to receive us, and row us back
to the ship. Mr Hall ward, the chaplain, arrived
soon afterwards, and manifested, then and ever after-
wards, the most cordial sympathy and benevolent satis-
faction with the strong tie of friendship between the
men committed to his spiritual care and those who had
first sought their immortal welfare.

He read the Morning Prayers impressively, con-

200 HUMAN BROTHERHOOD.

clading with an earnest and excellent address.
" Never," said he, after it was over, '^ have I preached
to such a congregation — so attentive — so evidently
absorbed in the subject."

The men stood the whole time ; William W

and Henry H p scarcely withdrew their eyes

from him for a moment.

Soon after the service was over, Mr Hall ward
retired to his cabin, leaving us for an hour of last
words with the men. Then we left them, followed by
their quiet blessings from the ship-side.

*' On board of the ship Langdale,
June 28, 1855.

" Dear Friend, — I am striving to take your advice.
Every day your words have taken a great impression
on my mind. With the help of God, I shall write to
you when I get to the Crimea, if ever I get there, and
you v/ill send a word of instruction to me, and I will
promise you that I will persevere in reading God's
holy Word. As for drinking and swearing I have
left off that. — From your true and obedient friend,

" On board the Simoom, June 30.

" Dear Madam, — We are full now — aboard of thef
Simoom — and ready to be off. We think a great deal
of Beckinghani and you ; I have long cause. I pray
God bless all your teaching to us. I saw some of

HUMAN BROTHERHOOD. 201

those little prayers that you gave to the men that last
Sunday we were there, and I was glad to see some of
them reading them ; and I am glad to see some are
anxious to read them. I will write and tell you of
our journey, and hope it will please God that we may
land safe in the foreign land. We shall keep a little
company together, for we have already got together
about twenty of our companions to sing, pray, and
read ; and I hope that from to-night we shall be quiet-
like to ourselves, at a corner of the deck. With my
kind love to you and to Mr Charmer, good bye, and
God bless you all. — Your sincere friend,

" Thomas Dibley.
" Jacob K joins in all with John and me."

" Dear Friend, — I received your kind letter, and I
am glad to see you have got my order to lay by in
the savings bank for me ; and I find the little books
you gave me very handy. We sang the 189th hymn
before dinner, and after that we read a chapter — Mark
ix. ; and a great many of our fellow mates came and
joined in with us ; but I am sorry to say, yesterday
they would not join in with me ; so I sat down and
read my book by myself; but I don't think it will be
hard to get them now, as I have got them once.
They say they would sooner join in hymns than
swearing. So no more at present from your sincere
friend, Charles R ."

202 HUMAN BROTHERHOOD.

" Grayesbnd, June 29, 1855.

^' Dear Friend, — Pardon me for addressing you so
freely; but your kindness to me has convinced me
you are a true friend, and I most humbly thank you
for granting my request. You may depend I will
attend to the prayer with which you so kindly pre-
sented me. I am most happy that I should have the
honour of receiving a letter from you. I will write
to you, and tell you if I arrive in safety at my
journey's end. Until then, believe me to be your
obedient servant, JoHN B ."

"July 2, 1855.

" My Dear Friend,— I did hear that letter read
to us, as you wished it to be, on Sunday before
prayers ; and we enjoyed ourselves quite well in sing-
ing of hymns and reading our Bibles and books, on
Sunday ; and I heard many of our men say, * I wish
that our kind lady was with us to-day ; she would
keep us all together and peaceable more than any
officers could.' So no more at present from your dear
friends, James C and John S ."

^^ God bless us all, my dear Friend."

" At Sba, Jul?/ 1, 1855.

"Dear Friend, — I send these few lines to you,
with my sincere thanks for the trouble you are taking
for us poor, sinful men. Dear Friiend, this is the first

HUMAN BROTHERHOOD. 203

Lord's Day we have had at sea. May the Lord
enable me and all of us to give our hearts unto Him,
and give us His holy Spirit, to lead us in the way of
all truth, and to teach us the meaning of His holy
Word, so that we may come to the Lord Jesus Christ
and find pardon for all our sins, so that we may be
received by Him into glory. May God bless you,
ana may we meet in heaven !

«JohnL ."

*' If I can, I will send you a few lines from Gib-
raltar."

CHAPTER XV

•* One standeth not as oa a hill, beckoning to another to foUcnf ;
CaijetoU up hand in Land, and carry eacb other's burdenB,"

During the remainder of the time of my absence
fiom home, my sister daily visited the new candidates
for admission to the Corps, who arrived in considerable
numbers each morning at the Crystal Palace, from
divers parts of the country. On our way home,

L and I drove to the Crystal Palace, and found

my sister seated in a sort of a chair of stones which
the navvies had built up for her, on a little green hil-
lock within the Crystal Palace grounds. About two
hundred men were standing around, receiving Testa-
ments from her, and listening to her gentle words of
instruction and counsel with rapt attention.

On the previous day she had been pained by that
which never reached her ears on any other occasion
of intercourse with these working men — the sound of
an oath. The man who used it was slightly intoxi-
cated. Murmurs arose of " Shame, shame ! to let a
lady hear you swear ! and so kind as she is, to come
amongst us like this ; " and then followed threats of
condign punishment, and the man was forcibly borne
outside the ring for the purpose. My sister was

208 BKOTHERLY LOVE.

obliged to insist upon taking tlie offender under hex
protection ; and then solemnly and earnestly spoke to
him, and to the bj-standers, upon the sin against
God of taking His holy name in vain ; and of making
a prayer the channel for a curse instead of a blessing.
On Sunday night we heard that the Langdale was
to sail, either on Monday or Tuesday, with the re-
mainder of the " battalion." M and I went early

on Monday morning to Greenhithe, and visited the
ship. William W 's face was the first to wel-
come us. He had been transfei-red to the last ship,
why, we knew not, unless it were that the kind provi-
dence of God had so ordered it, to enable us to see
him once again, and to have the joy of hearing from
his own lips that he had begun in earnest to '^ seek
Jesus, and to hate sin." Whilst my sister spoke to
the men about those wonderful words in the 1 7th verse
of the 22d of Revelation, " The Spirit and the bride
say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come.
And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever
will, let him take the water of life freely," I
noticed, amongst the earnest eyes around, none more

earnest than William W 's. When M said,

" I wish you all to carry to the Crimea two thoughts
from those words — Come, and say. Come," he
rejoined in a low voice, " I tried to say, ^ Come,' a
little, yesterday. I got together a bunch of the men,
as we'd no parson aboard this ship, and read ray

BROTHERLY LOVE. 209

Bible and good books with them, and then lots more
came round us, and enjoyed themselves in listen-
ing."

The next time I heard of William was by a letter

from Mr Ilallward. He wrote that William W

desired him to communicate from himself, with great
grief, that he had once been overcome in drinking
the Crimean brandy, in the great heat of their arrival
at Balaklava and march to the camp ; and had bitterly
rued the consequences. lie could not be easy, he
said, till I knew of this fall; but that, since then, he
had been enabled, by God's grace, to walk more like
a Christian, and believed that God would help him to
do so more and more. He had a long illness shortly
afterwards, during which time Mr Hallvvard's unre-
mitting labours in the hospital were of great value and
comfort to our poor friend. His constitution never
recovered the shock. He went to Scutari a few months
later. Whether he died there, or on his way home, I
have never succeeded in tracing. But it is all one to
him, now, whether his body lies amongst thousands of
his countrymen, in their distant burial-ground upon
the Turkish shore; or was dropped alone into the
ocean caves. We have an earnest trust that he " held
on his way/' I know that he spoke truth when he said
to me, " I believe in Jesus Christ as the Saviour of
sinners."

" When Thou hast overcome the sharpness of
0

210 BROTHERLY LOVE.

death, Thou didst open the kingdom of heaven to all
believers."

The four men who had been acquitted at the police
court of all concern in the Penge fight, were on board
the Langdah; and they expressed hearty gratitude
for the efforts which had been made in their favour.

All the Army Works Corps men on board listened
with earnest interest to the story of Zaccheus, in
the 19th chapter of St Luke's Gospel; and when
the words had been dwelt upon, ^' He is gone to be
guest with a man that is a sinner," and the question
was urged, " Will not you ask him to be your guest
— now — this very day — and for ever?" many a fer-
vent '^ Yes" was uttered with a choking voice.

Just before taking leave, we discovered that all the
books which we had sent for the use of the three
ships had been divided by mistake between the
Simoom and the Barrackjjore, The men frankly
confessed that they gambled all day long for want of
any other occupation.

We tried to point out the evils and consequent
miseries of gambling, and then asked, " If we send
you down some games for your amusement, would
you pledge yourselves that there should be no betting
connected with them in any way?" This pledge was
earnestly given, and rigidly kept during the whole
voyage. Of this fact one of the officers kindly in-

BEOTHEKLY LOVE. 211

lormed us, by letter, oh the arrival of the Langdale at
Balaklava, adding an excellent account of the conduct
of the men.

On our way home from the ship we made a little
detour to the London Bridge Station, and, at the
Arcade Bazaar, purchased boxes and boards for chess
and backgammon, games of " railways and coaches,"
Chinese puzzles, puzzles made of " Scripture pictures''
and historic scenes, and last, but greatest in favom*,
as we afterwards learned, a huge Noah's ark.

In the course of the evening a still larger supply
of similar treasures was sent down by the benevolent
members of the firm of Mead and Powell, who had been
informed of the object of the purchase at their bazaar,
and generously added this handsome present for the
men of the Army Works Corps on board the La7ig-
dale^ with a letter expressive of their kind wishes for
the welfare of the men, and the success of the Corps.

Early the next morning Mr Chalmers' coachman
took the packages to the ship just before she sailed.
He arranged with the men that the Scripture puzzles
should be kept for the Sundays' amusement, when tliey
were tired of reading ; but that the other games should
bo put away on Saturday night, and not brought out
again until Monday morning. A universal assent
was given; and this word of honour was never broken.

On the 14th of July I visited the men who had

212 BROTHERLY LOVE.

been taken prisoners at the fight at Pciige. They
were then under confinement in Horsemonger Lane
gaol. As I entered the court where they were stand-
ing, the first momentary expression of surprise and
pleasure which lighted up their countenances gave
place to a look of shame and distress, and five out of
the seven sobbed like children. Those were the five

guilty men. They all told me that Thomas H

had taken no part in the fight, and was a steady

man ; and that young William K , who had

been taken up, at eight o'clock the evening after the
fight, upon suspicion, was absent from Penge at the
time it took place, and could call upon the tent-
maker who was employing him that day to prove an
alibi. No sort of request was made to me to help them
in their great strait 5 but when I promised to retain
an able counsel on their behalf, their surprise and
gratitude were truly affecting. It is only right to
mention here the generous conduct of Mr Yokes, the
landlord of a public-house at Sydenham, with whom

Thomas H and his wife and child had lodged

for some weeks. Three times he gave half a sove-
reign for a pleader for him in the police court, and
supported the helpless Avife and child until he could

obtain permission to stand bail for H , and thus

set him at liberty to return to his work. Thomas

H was acquitted at the trial.

I visited them constantly at this time, and met

"UKIVBESITT

BROTHEELY LO^^ *» ^ * - -rCV^^

Uim^'W

with the most polite consideration from the benevo-
lent and sensible governor of the gaol, and from his
like-minded son. They both said the men behaved
admirably, and were evidently honest, straightforward
vrorking men, very unlike the majority of their pri-
soners. They added that every night and morning
the poor fellows took out their cards of prayer, and
knelt down to pray the words together, and then read
their books.

One day the poor men expressed deep regret for
having brought me into so much trouble: " To think
now of your name being talked over as coming to
see prisoners, and they your own men, who had
Testaments and all given 'em. And how it '11 be said,
this comes of them Bible-readings — ending of such
a way — drinkings, fightings, and prison! — and no
account taken of the lots as kep' steady."

I told them that this last thought had also occur-
red to me, and had troubled me; and that I had been
thinking of the triumph which Satan had got on the
20th of June, until it had made me quite miserable.
But then it had come into my mind, that the Lord
Jesus Christ might yet bring a greater triumph out
of it all to Himself, by giving them his Holy Spirit,
to change their hearts and make them children of
God in that gaol ; and then, whether they left it for
liberty or for another prison, they would walk out
of it Christ's freed-men ! Then I stopped, and said,

214 BROTUERLY LOVE.

"Which would you like to get the triumph — the
devil, who wants to get you into his power, to tor-
ment you; or Jesus Christ, wbo loved you, and died
for you, and lives again to love you and make you
happy for evermore?"

From the most hardened man amongst them, the
man said by the police and the witnesses to have been
the leader and the fiercest in the fight — from the lips of

William burst forth, with a sob and a gush of

tears^ the words, " Jesus, Jesus — only Jesus " — in a
tone which I can never recall ^\ithout believing that,
then and there, that man made his choice '' whom he
would serve." Nor has he ever given me cause to
doubt it since.

'* Then will I praise my Lord and Saviour,
That angels shall
Admire man's fall,
When they shall see God's greatest glory grow
Where Satan thought to root out all."

There was in the manners and expressions of each
a humble penitence ; and they were all deeply con-
scious that it was the curse of drunkenness which had
brought them into this great evil and trouble. These
men shuddered, in their sobriety, at the remembrance
of the ferocity of their drunkenness, more than at tlie
prospect of years of penal labour and imprisonment ;
heavily as that, too, pressed upon their freedom-loving
natures.

Oh ! what can be done to rid Britain of this beset-

BKOTHEIILY LOTE. 215

ting sin of her working classes ? V/Ill no great soul
give to this subject serious thought and persevering
effort? Is there no ^^ wise man" who will stretch forth
his hand to " save a city " or a nation by his wisdom
in suggesting, and his energy in carrying through, a
moral or legislative cure for this corroding disease?
Will the day never come when we shall be able to
give our working brother.; their holiday, their one
little green isle here and there upon a sea of toil,
without its ending by numbers of them drhiking
themselves into ferocity or idiotcy?

It cannot be that our working men are incapable of
higher pleasures. Men who have such great hearts —
and the heart of an Englishman is the home of every
generous and noble feeling, when that " house is set
in order " by the grace of God — must also have a
capacity for refined enj oyment. Gentlemen of England,
these working men are "the raw material" from which
you have been moulded. They are bone of your bone,
and flesh of your flesh. The same sea-girt land has
given them, as their birthright, the independence of
your o^vn island spirit. The same breezes of ocean
from every side have brought them their like bodily
and mental health and f^'eshness. The same time-
honoured institutions have given them your own
steadfastness of character, your chivalrous loyalty,
yom- even-handed justice, and your love of liberty
without license.

210 BROTH EliLY LOVE.

The same open Bibles have spread an atmosphere
of light before eyes that could not, as before those
amongst you that would not, study its sun-bright
letters, nourishing a higher sense of honour, a purer
standard of morality, a larger generosity of heart, and
a grander nobility of soul, than can be found in any
other nation in civilised Europe.

Such men are worth an effort — the effort of a life-
time— to deliver them from the enthralment of one
fatal habit, which deprives them, for the period of its
power, of every good gift of God to lieart and intel-
lect. Save such men from crowding our prisons and
overflowing our penal settlements. True it is, while
the world standeth, that the gospel of Jesus Christ is
the one and only remedy for the disease of sin in any
form. In the peace of a free pardon through the blood
of His cross ; in the gladness of a free salvation won
by His merits ; the heart of man is set at liberty
from its toil after vain or sinful excitement, to con-
secrate every power to the service and glory of that
Saviour who has redeemed him ; and has made him
^' unto his God a king and a priest." But the loving
wisdom of the Eternal Father has ordained that
through the channel of human affection these waters
of life should mainly flovr. Few souls have ever been
threatened into a Christian life. How many have
been loved into it will never be known until the
Becrets of all hearts sliall be revealed.

BROTHERLY LOVE, 217

Remember these men are your brothers. " Love as
brethren: be pitiful, be courteous." The working
man values your courtesy above your liberality,
and your friendship most of all. Let him feel that,
whatever may be the difference between you, occa-
sioned by the accidents of birth, education, and
fortune, you and he are friends. Shew him your
interest in his welfare, your desire for his im-
provement, your care for his happiness, and, above
all, your trust in his honour. But let him feel he can
give back as much as he gains. Tell him your trials.
Let him share your hopes. Let him give you his
sympathy. You will find it as generous and delicate
as your own. Allow him the glorious equality of
being able to repay friendship with friendship. God
gives it to you, and will you not give it to your
brother ?

It was a noble sentim^ent and a great truth which
Judge Talfourd died in uttering — " That which is
wanted, to hold together the bursting bonds of the
different classes of this country, is not kindness, but
SYMPATHY."

CHAPTER XVL

Safe at |0me.

-' No more away we '11 go.
No more from Him we '11 sever ;
From our wand'ring woe, in the vale below.
We rest with Him lor ever.
In His world of light, i^od His kingdom briglilj
We 've a borne and a hearty welcome."

Amongst the varied sources of interest and pleasure
occasioned by the gathering of the Army Works
Corps, by no means the lightest was the return of
some of our old friends who had formerly worked at
the Crystal Palace, with news of many more whom
they had chanced to meet again in their wanderings.
Of some, indeed, we heard things that deepened our
anxieties, and painfully quickened our prayers for
them. But of others there were tidings which glad-
dened our hearts. There was one, especially, to whom
the words could truly be said, " I thank my God upon
every remembrance of you, for your fellowship in the
gospel from the first day until now." There was a

time when we all believed that William G was

dead. And truly was he then mourned by all who
had known him in Beckenham. He had been seized
with cholera in Deptford, in the autumn of 1854;
and, on partially recovering, had left the place. This
I had heard on my return from a visit in the north of
England ; and every effort to trace him failed. We
did not know where his mother lived, so as to be able

222 SAFE AT HOME.

to inquire of her what his fate had been. Great was
our joy, therefore, some months afterwards, when a
letter from that excellent woman announced that her
son was still living, although he had been long and
seriously ill. After his recovery he worked as a
farm-servant for some time, and was in the habit of
gathering together his fellow men-servants, in an
evening, to read the Word of God. His master said
he was a most faithful and diligent servant.

When he was able to write again, his letters were
a real refreshment to us. In one he wrote, — " There
are many changes in this life. I pray that every
change may find us better, more humble, more love
to our neighbour, to our own soul, and, above all, to
our God ; that when old age come upon us, we may
not have to look back upon a misspent life. I often
think, when I come to look back upon only a few days
even, there are many things which I might have done
that would have been more to the good of my soul,
or to the honour of my God ; but when I look back
over my whole life, I could oftentimes- cry, and I
think sometimes I could lay down with Elijah, and
say, ^ It is enough ; now, 0 Lord, take away my life,
for I am not better than my fathers.'

" Dear ma'am, please to send me a few lines to say

how your dear sister is, and how James is.

Perhaps you may think it curious of me offering you
half a sovereign for James j so I will tell you my

SAFE AT HOME. 223

reasons ; because I know you have done a great deal
for him, and I thought you would lay it out better
for him than he would for himself, as I have thought
him rather thoughtless that way. I hope by me so
saying I shall not hurt your feelings towards him,
for I have no very particular reasons for so saying ;
and even if I had, we all have faults. I know I
have many. So now I must conclude witli say-
ing you must continue to pray for me, that I
may daily increase in grace and wisdom ; and God
ever bless and prosper you in all you lay your
hand to."

Again, in Febniary 1855, he writes, — " I was very
glad that dear Captain Vicars is still alive, and in
good health and spirits, amid all the war and pesti-
lence to which he has been exposed ; and I pray God
he may still be spared to the glory of God and the
good of souls. Dear ma'am, I very often pray for
him, I loved him so well. And I pray God to bless
all your labours of love for the Lord Jesus, and for
poor souls, and to bless you and all that belong to
you abundantly. I am sorry to hear that good Mrs
Elliott died of the cholera last summer. She was an
excellent kind woman, and I know you thought a
great deal of her ; and her poor family must miss her
very much. But I am glad you say she died so full
of love, and trust, and peace in Jesus.

" I often think how great a blessing It was to me

224 SAFE AT HOME.

that I came to Beckenliam. They were happy days
indeed. But I shall have their like again and better
still in heaven."

"Jfay 11, 1855.

"Dear Madam, — T received your kind, inter-
esting, though sorrowful letter — and I do as it were
share a part of the sorrow. Although I knew little
of Capt. Vicars, he was a man that I loved very
greatly — and I hope he is now with his Saviour
whom he so loved. It seems quite a pity that such a
young man, and one that promised to be so useful for
the comfort and eternal welfare of mankind, should
be cut off in the very prime of life — but we must
resign to the will of God. He alone knows what
is best for us. It must indeed be very trying to those
who loved him so much. And who can tell (if he
lived any time after he received his deadly wound)
what thoughts, prayers, and troubles would cross his
mind about them; not but that I believe he would
resign himself to the will of God. I have oftentimes
thought of him and prayed for him and I hope I shall
meet him and you and your aged and honoured father
and the young lady-nieces and Mr and Mrs Chalmers,
and many more for whom I would pray particular
(nay indeed all the world) in heaven at last where
sorrow, parting and death shall be no more — where
we shall praise God to all eternity. So no more at

SAFE AT HOME. 226

present irom your humble, affectionate son in our
Lord Jesus Christ and your most humble servant,

u Wm. G /'

One evening, in the spring of 1855, I went into

Mary E 's cottage. Half hidden behind the door

sat two travellers, who had just come to Beckenham to
seek for lodgings, as I gathered by a glimpse at their
dusty clothes and baggage. On turning to look at
them again, admonished by the expression of Mary's
eye, I recognised Thomas Paget's broad, bright face,
and hearty smile ; and welcomed him and his good
wife back to Beckenham right gladly. " She knowed
me again," said he, half aside to Mary, '^ and I
thought she 'd forgotten me ;" and for a few minutes
his face was hidden on his arms, as he leant them on
the table. Then came out, in broken sentences, his
recollections of his life in Beckenham ; and how
" God had kept him from drinking them away after
he had left, and made him and his wife keep up
praying, and reading their Bible, and church-going."

Very shortly after this he became seriously ill ;
and although we had able medical advice for him, all
remedies failed to arrest the disease. He slowly fell
away from his great size and strength, and, at last,
gave back his spirit to his God.

P

226 SAFE AT HOME.

He was like a little child in that illness, so grate-
ful and simple. He knew our steps as we drew near
the cottage, and would often spend hours by the win-
dow, watching for the mere sight of any of us in the
village street. His failing appetite was only gratified
by little dinners cooked at the Ilectory, and flowers
from our garden were his peculiar joy. He would
arrange them carefully in a little jar, and have them
placed on a table where he could constantly see them.
A pillow which v/as given him to raise his aching
head from the hard mattress, '' made him feel a' most
in heaven," he said, " so easy and comfortable-like."

One day his wife sent me word that he was much
worse, and was not likely to live many hours. As I
took leave of him that night, not expecting to see him
again in this world, I was quite overcome. There was
something ever to be remembered in the mingled ex-
pressions of his countenance at that moment. Sorrow
to see another's sorrow, it was not in his nature to
avoid feeling ; but this was almost swallowed up by
his extreme surprise and pleasure at finding the value
set upon his simple, honest friendship. Kindness he
had looked for, but not to have his death mourned ;
and it was plainly an exquisite enjoyment to him,
which I thank God he had, although he was going so
soon afterwards to inherit fulness of joy for ever.

It was surprising to see how his spiritual imder-
standing grew and was strengthened as his physical

SAFE AT HOME. '227

power failed. The Bible was his great delight ; '^ and
Mr Chalmers," he said, " made it all as clear as
glass to him."

He bore his great sufferings with unmurmuring
patience, and prayed his favourite little prayer (the
Soldier's Prayer) oftentimes a day. The last evening
that 1 saw him he was speechless ; but when I said,
" Paget, dear friend, if you know that the Lord Je^us
is with you, so that you fear no evil, raise your hand
for a sign," he raised it at once, and waved it joy-
fully.

In the course of the night he recovered his speech
enough to say to his wife, as she cooled his hot head
with fresh water, " Who will wash me next, Lyddy ?"

" Who do you mean, Tom ?"

" God !" he replied; "quite clean, in the blood of
Jesus."

Soon after that he went to join the company of
those who wear white robes, " made white in the
blood of the Lamb."

Shortly after the Langdale had sailed, and with her
the last men left of the First Battalion of the Army
Works Corps, I left home for some. weeks, under-
standing that the numbers of the Corps would not be
increased until the experiment of sending the first
detachment was found to be successful.

228 SAFE AT HOME.

Early In August, however, fresh advertisements
appeared for working men of various trades, and rail-
way men amongst them, to form a second battalion.

My sister drove to the Crystal Palace grounds
every morning to converse with the men, to distri-
bute books, and to take down their names for Testa-
ments. She found all were obliging and respectful,
and many of them full of warm and grateful feeling.

As we were obliged to spend that autumn by the
sea-side, we fixed upon Brighton, as the coast which
was the most easy of access to and from Beckenham
and the Crystal Palace; and twice a-week we visited
the new candidates for the Corps in the Crystal Palace
grounds. Through the kindness of Sir Joseph Pax-
ton's chief agent in London, Mr Wragge, a telegra-
phic message summoned us to the Tliames whenever
another ship received its complement of men for the
Crimea, so that my sister and I had the satisfaction
of exchanging parting-words with each man, and of
giving to all a Testament as a last remembrance,
accompanied generally by a Cottage Hymn-book. A
large number of prayer-books were supplied by Go-
vernment to the chaplains, for distribution amongst
the men. Both the Bible and Religious Tract Socie-
ties were most liberal in making several grants of
Testaments and hymn-books to us for the same pur-
pose, and in allowing us to purchase many more at
half price.

SAFE AT HOME. 229

A large number of the men applied to me to receive
their money-orders, as had been done for those who
went out in the first detachment. This arrangement
now became rather a formidable matter, the receipts
averaging about £500 a-month. I should have found
myself very unequal to the calculation, but for the

able help of L , who undertook ^' to keep the

book" for me, and, assisted by her sister, to corre-
spond with those relatives of the men to whom allow-
ances were made. The correspondence with the men
themselves about this time began to average about
fifty letters a-Aveek from the Crimea.

In the early part of the month of September, two
young men of the name of B wrote from Wands-
worth gaol to request me to pay a fine of £10 for
them, to set them free to go to the Crimea. They
were in gaol for having been found in a riotous state
of intoxication.

Before answering this application, I wrote to in-
quire particulars of the governor, to whose firmness,
discrimination, and benevolence — those high qualities
which alone can fit a man for such a post — it; is
unnecessary for me to attempt to do justice. Mr
Onslow replied that, from what he had seen and heard
of the young men, he believed they were deserving of
the effort, although they had been guilty of an excess
which had brought upon them their present punish-
ment Of course the money was sent forthwith, and

230 SAFE AT HOME.

few things gratified me more than the anxiety mani-
fested by these young men to justify the confidence
which had been reposed in them, both in their steady
conduct from that time, and in securing to me the
repayment of the sum lent, by having their money-
orders drawn out in my name, so that I should receive
the £10 owing to me before laying by any money for
them in the Savings Bank. In consequence of the
pressure of business at the office, a delay of some
days occurred before this could be done. Meantime
one or other of the brothers wrote almost daily to
assure me that " they had not forgotten the arrange-
ment, nor never would forget the kindness."

A navvy named John F., for whom my sister had
advanced a sum of money under similar circumstances,
r?hewed equal anxiety until she was repaid, and intro-
duced her on board ship as ^' this here 's the lady that
paid two pounds ten shillings to get me out of prison."

There were many artisans, in this battalion, of
superior education and character, whose conversa-
tions greatly interested us ; but as no notes of these
interviews were written down at that time, owing to
the pressure of the work amongst them, nor in the still
busier winter months, we are afraid of trusting our
memories now, lest the details should not be verbally
accurate. On our return home, we formed an ac-
quaintance with Mr Hudson, the chaplain who went
out with the Third Battalion of this Corps, whose

SAFE AT HOME. 231

manly simplicity of character — not forgetting the
physical powers which had led him up Mount Blanc
by the direct ascent — combined with his earnest
desire to promote the best welfare of the men com-
mitted to his charge, qualified him well to be a
chaplain to the navvies.

It was about this time that we heard of several
deaths which deeply affected us, amongst men whom
we had known in the First Battalion. Our old friend
Thomas Dibley was amongst the earliest who, in his
own simple language, " took a short cut to heaven,
without going round by old England."

He and several others had met regularly for prayer
and the reading of God's Word ; and in navvy phrase,

'^ he had lived according." His friend, John E ,

told us the remainder of his earthly history.

** August 30, the Year of our Lord 1855.

" From John R ,

" Frenchman's Hill, Balaklava.

"Dear Friend in the Lord — I now write to inform
you of my bodily health, and spiritly wellfare, tho I
am very poorly to day, but I thank God that I am
spared to write to you, hoping this will find you all in
good health as it leaves most of our company ; tho
we have lost some men very sudden, one was drowned
on the 15 of x\ugust by coming on board drunk, when
we lay in the water, and Eobson was took ill at six
oclock in the morning and died at one, and we have

232 SAFE AT HOME.

BIX more very ill at the presant, and I hope that
God will remove the heavy hand of death from ns,
if it be his will, and if not, I hope that the Lord Jesus
will receive their souls to glory and I have not been
landed a week un til the 24th and we have 3 more
men dead in the same way, it is the cholera. Beloved
Friend in the Lord, Thessalonians ii. 3 : finally,
Brethren pray for us, that the word of the Lord may
have free course and be glorified, even as it is with you,
and that we may be delivered from unreasonable and
wicked men, for all men have not faith : I remember
last time I wrote to you it was in heaviness of spirit,
but I thank God, through the faith and love of Jesus
Christ, and the assistance of thi holy Spirit. I am
able to say this —

" Peace, doubting heart : my God's I am ;

Who forra'd me raau, forbids me fear ;
The Lord hath call'd me by my name.

The Lord protects, for ever near ;
His Blood for me did once atone.
And still he loves and guards his own.**

my dear friend, I will tell you how I have perseverea
on my pasage over. Thomas Dibley and I formed A
reading class for all them that would attend it we
used our little testaments and hymn Books, every
day, and I exhorted a text every night and prayed
witii them and sung a hymn or two, and these is the
two hymns we often sang, 136. — 138, and I have felt
the Lord to be very precious to ray soul, and we had

SAF!-: AT HOMK. 233

a many members and 1 trust that the Lord will add
hundreds more to his fold. The disease is raging,
and death devouring us daily, and the grave is swal-
lowing us up ; there is four men died of it today, and
the same almost every day. Oh, may the Lord have
mercy on their souls, and I am still determined to
pei*severe in the love of Christ, to find my way to
heaven. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away ;
for it has pleased the Lord to take my dear companion,
Thomas Dibley, he died on the 28 of August, his
illness was very severe ; he was only fifteen hours ill.
I \asited him every opportunity, he said he was in
good spirits for heaven. I begged him to look to
Christ, and for the holy Spirit to comfort him, in the
valley and shadow of Death, and this is his dying
words, I am only going to Him a little bit before
you ; as he grasped my hand fast in his ; and Wil-
liam Mason is dead, we have lost 28 men, from the
seven teciith of August; this is on my Dear friend
Thomas Dibley's death :

Here are afflictions, and trials severe,

Here is no rest — here is no rest ;
Here I must part with the friend I own dear.

Yet I urn Blest ! I am Blest.

flow sweet is the promise I read in his word.
Blessed ;u-e they wlio have died in the Lord,
Fcr they shall be called to receive their reward.
There is rest, there is rest.

SO God Bless you all at the present and J. K is

234 SAFE AT HOME.

well, and I will write as soon as I can to you another
letter so I hope and trust dear honored Lady to meet
you all in heaven if not on earth Amen."

Young George Willis was one who had especially
interested me in the summer. He was always ready
to open the carriage door, to pull oiF his neckcloth as
quick as lightning to dust a book or parasol, if it
fell to the ground, or to render any other of those
delicate little attentions by which these strong men
shew their sense of a lady's friendly interest in them.
One day I had noticed the earnestness of his fine
countenance, as he listened ; so I said to him after-
wards, " George, you have a good mother, I am pretty
sure?"

" Safe enough ! Now, who could have told ye ? "

"And I think you are a good son."

" Well ! you are out there ! But I should like to
be, uncommon."

" How do you mean to begin ? "

" Why, by leaving my money order with you, to
allow mother something handsome out of it 5 and if
I don't live to come back, you '11 please give it all to
her."

The excellent Rector of the parish where George's
widowed mother lived, wrote, in the course of the

SAFE AT HOME. 235

autumn^ to express the poor woman's joy in the duti-
ful consideration of her son, and the hope it raised
within her that it might result from a real change of
heart and principle, as he had, previously, been some-
what wild in conduct and neglectful of her wishes.

A sorrowful task was it, indeed, to have to say, in
answer to that letter, that her son was dead. " The
only son of his mother, and she was a widow."

Little as there was to tell her of what had passed
between us, there was enough for Hope. I could not
even write his name without remembering that those
young eyes used to fill with tears and light at every
description of a Saviour's dying love. I besought
her to reckon on seeing those tears exchanged for
smiles of joy in Paradise ; for surely no single spark
of love to Jesus ever went down to be quenched in
everlasting darkness.

On our return home at the close of the autumn,
amidst a large heap of letters there, we found one from
George, written whilst he was in the full vigour of
health, some weeks before his death. God only knows
the depth of thankful joy with which it was sent to
that widowed mother, with the words written upon it,
without one haunting doubt, " This your son was
dead, and is ALIYE again; he was lost, and IS

236 SAFE AT HOME.

** From George Willis, Army Works Corps,
''gone to the Crimea."

" Dear Madam — i received your kind letter, and
was happy to hear from you. Will you be so kind
as to keep my order and to let my Mother Mary
Willis have 5s. a week until i do return, if it do
please God that i may. if i never do return again,
it T-'^ • be for mother Mary Willis, at Queen's Camel.
Madam you can let my Mother have it as you please,
and I thank you kindly for your Prayer and Hymn-
book and your Blessing that was in your kind letter,
and God's Blessing as well Which i am sure of if
i do put my trust in Ilim, and i hope i shall for
evermore, i hope to keep your Litel prayer con-
stantly with me for your sake, and own Saviour's
that shed His Blood for us.

" & I do remain your obedient servt.

" George Willis."

CHAPTEK XVII.

The honest man, though e'er 80
I« king o' men for a' that/'

Many more individual instances of holy living and
dying, like George Willises, and Thomas Dibley's,
rejoiced our hearts, and filled us with fresh confidence
in Him who loves to hear and answer prayer. But
the statement of the conduct of a large portion of the
Corps, after they had landed in the Crimea, made us
anxious and disappointed. Perhaps it was too much
to expect of men, who had grown up to the prime
of their life in the enjoyment of entire liberty and
independence, the freest hearted men in the land,
that they should submit to the rigid discipline of
martial law as well as if they had been trained to it,
like soldiers, from their youth up.

One of their stumblingblocks was the order given
to touch their caps to every officer who passed. They
said " they had gone out to work, and couldn't
awhile to do manners." For this many got into
trouble. More than one wrote to me, " The men
as is flogged say they 've one comfort ; and that is
that you are not here to see how they 're served ;
for you 'd wear your heart out with fretting about

240 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

them." A devoted missionary to the soldiers, who
had heard something of our interest in the Corps,
told me, that after being disappointed by the general
character for wildness which was given him of the
men after their landing in the Crimea, he could not
but be moved, when he went amongst them during a
sort of extempore emeuiej and said, " Is this the
lesson you learnt at Beckenham? what would she
say if she heard of it ? '' to see many amongst them
shew strong emotion, and the majority, for that day
at least, return to order.

The last detachm^^^^ of the Third Battalion was
selected during the month of November. A scarcity
of work at that time, broUji,ht candidates for the Corps
from all parts of the country, including mechanics
from the manufacturing towns, at the rate, accord-
ing to the Times newspaper, of one thousand a-day.
For the most part, these men brought very small
means for iheir support during the time of waiting on
the chance of be'ng chosen ; numbers were unable to
afford lodgings, and therefore slept without a roof over
their heads in the damp, cold November nights ; many
were almost starving. My sister and I, in our daily
visits to them, were in the habit of buying from a
pieman, who came down from London on speculation,.

TRUi: AND TliUSTY. 241

from one to two hundred " hot penny pies/' contain-
ing a marvellous supply of nourishment for the cost,
or coffee and bread and butter, for those who had
had no meal in the course of the day.

It was a fine thing to see several hundred men fall
back, leaving a ring around us of only the absolutely
famished men, not to trespass on the little kindness,
although many of those who retired had had but one
meal in the course of the day.

The first day that we discovered this terrible state
of destitution, I had only a few shillings with me,
and with a keen sense of " what are they amongst so
many?" I turned to one of the men by my side, and
said, " Will you take the money and lay it out to the
best advantage? I do not know who you are; but
I am sure you will deal fairly by the rest. I have
never yet found cause to doubt the honour of a work-
ing man."

^' Then you shan't learn mistrust from me," he said.
And many told me next day, how good and faithful
a steward he had been.

At this time, characters were required of the men
before the appointments could be made. And the
men found that it greatly added to their chances oi
success, if we wrote for them to their former masters,
and when satisfactory testimonials were thus received
direct, we forwarded them to the chief officer engaged
in selecting the candidates. And here again, I must

242 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

bear m j testimony to Mr Milner's unwearied patience
and coui'tesj, not to us only, but to every applicant
who obtained an interview with him.

The Eectory was now transformed into an office
for writing for and receiving characters of artisans of
all descriptions, and of railway labourers. The men
came daily from half-past nine till half-past three.
This afforded us opportunities of speaking with each
man separately, upon his interest in a world the
fashion of which will not pass away. There were
many whose names I should mention with pleasure
and interest, were it not, that from their present
position and circumstances, it is probable this record
may fall into their hands, in which case, it will be
enough for them to learn that they are all remembered
constantly in prayer to God, that we may meet again
to praise Him throughout a blessed eternity.

To provide more adequately than the pitiful allow-
ance of the penny-pics, for a few of the most distressed
and yet superior men amongst the candidates — men
who would rather have starved than begged — we
noAV boarded about a score of them at a time at
cottages in Beckenham, until their appointments

could be obtained. Two of these men, James P ,

and John M , I shall have occasion to mention

further. It was during this winter — of 1855 — that
we first became fully acquainted with the character
of the sergeant of police at Beckenham — a man who,

TEUE AND TRUSTY. 243

with spirit and courage equal to any emergency, has
never, in any mob or fight, either received or struck
a blow, though firm and strict in all the duties of his
calling. In him, every honest working man who
comes within his reach, finds a friend ; and from his
gentle and benevolent wife, every starving man, with
almost equal certainty, receives a slice of bread and
cheese, or a basin of soup.

Encouraged by his admirable Inspector* in every
plan for the moral improvement of the men under his
charge, and influenced, like that superior officer, by
the highest of all motives in seeking the welfare

of his fellow-creatures. Sergeant , with his

staff of police, has been invaluable in preserving
the peace and good order of Beckenham, when filled
with strangers from all parts of the country. No
collision in Beckenham is ever dreamt of between the
wildest of the navvies and our policemen. Even in
such a case as that of a man having to be imprisoned
for misconduct, a pat on the shoulder, and " You 'd
better come quietly with me, my man," is found to be
^' the utmost rigour of the law" which is required to
be exercised.

During this time, also, we experienced constant
civility and courtesy from the policemen employed
about the Crystal Palace and its neighbourhood;
who all took a cordial interest in our friendship with

• F. M. MaUalieu, Esq.

244 TRUE AND TflUSrY.

the men ; and latterly, in all threatenings of disorder-
liness, seemed to look upon iis as a sort of " available
contingent." "Oh! ladies," was their salutation,
when we had missed a day in coming, and a slight
disturbance had occurred, " if you had been here last
evening, the men would all have gone away without
giving us any trouble."

Shortly before the last five hundred of the Corps
who composed the Commissariat branch, sailed in the
Jura^ from off Deptford, they gave me a Bible and
Prayer-book^ bound together in a very beautiful
" antique fashion," as a parting remembrance of our
pleasant intercourse — an intercourse which had left
not a single painful remembrance. In all our after-
noon visits to them, including the large crowds of
unchosen, and therefore disappointed men, not one
rough word was ever spoken to us. Darkness often
came on, as we stood under an old oak, with these
men around, reading and talking with them about the
things wliich belonged to their peace; and when a
torch was sent out from the Crystal Palace office, to
light us back to the carriage which had brought us
thither, it flashed on faces so full of feeling, that we
understood by it the reason of the hush which had
prevailed.

At last came the day in December when the Jura
was to receive her complement, and to sail for the
East. It was the sharpest day of a short, but intense

TRUE AND TRUSTY. 245

frost. My sister and I, with a beloved young friend,
who has since entered into the ''joy of her Lord,"
drove over to Deptford, and spent six hours on board
the Jura^ in taking leave of the five hundred. Amongst
them were two men whom I have named, John

M , and James P , whose honest faces had

attracted us a few weeks before, in the crowd of men
endeavouring to gain admission at the Crystal Palace
gates.

We had then found it unnecessary to write for
further testimony to tlieir characters. The documents
which they had brought with them had been signed
not only by their employers, but also by the rector
and curate of the parish, and the two churchwardens.
Their countenances alone would have been amply
sufficient recommendations, — they literally shone with
honest and simple worth. At the time we first noticed
them they were almost starving ; so we told them to
come to the Eectory for supper that evening; and
then, finding they had nothing left to pay for a night's
shelter, we lodged and boarded them in the village.
As soon as they were appointed to the Corps, they
commenced laying by the larger portion of their wages
to repay us ; and had time enough to do so, fiilly.
A few days before the Jura sailed, they asked to see
me, and with some hesitation and fear, '' lest it sli-ould
be lh uiglit taking advantage of kindness," requested
tlie loan of half a sovereign to each, to enable them to

246 TRUE AND TRUST Y.

go down into shire, to take leave of their wives

and children.

The night before the vessel sailed, both came to the
Eectory, to repay the loan. "Are you sure, my friends,
that you can afford to give it back?"

" Quite sure, and thank you, ma'am, a thousand
times."

" But what have you left for your lodging to-night
and breakfast to-morrow ? "

" Oh, we Ve paid our lodging, all 's square."

"But for breakfast?"

A moment's pause ensued ; then came the cheerful
answer, "With the good supper we've just made
here ; and the good dinner we shall get aboard ship,
we don't want no breakfast."

Of course, that arrangement was not permitted to
stand. But when we met on board ship, we found
that whilst other men had been laying out from ten
to twenty shillings a-piece in warm vests, John and
James had been obliged to do without them to enable
them to repay their debts. So there they stood on
deck in that biting cold, with nothing warmer than a
slop over their shoulders, and with small chance of
having the warm clothing, provided by Government,
given out for some days. It was not to be borne.
So, early in the day we despatched a messenger for
four warm knitted vests from London. Five o'clock
came ; the darkness of a December night was deepen-

TKUE AND TRUSTY. '"§1^

ing. Our last farewell words were said; and the
last man's hand had been shaken; there was no
longer any reason for remaining ; yet our messenger
had not returned. There was, plainly, some mistake,
and the ship would probably sail before the parcel
could now reach our friends.

The colder blew the night breezes about us, as we
drove through Deptford, the more unbearable was
the thought of these two men suffering for their high
and delicate sense of honour towards us. We drove
from shop to shop before anything like the articles of
clothing which we wanted could be found. At last
at the fifth shop searched, they were obtained. But
who was to take them back to the ship ? No shop-
man could be spared.

Beneath a lamp in the street stood a group of boys.
Its light fell on a face which seemed to introduce
the sort of messenger I desired. The story was told
him. ^^ Now, my boy, we are strangers, and I do
not want to know your name or where you live, nor
any clue to either. You might take these vests and
make twenty shillings upon them, or give them away
to yom- father and brothers, if you choose. I should
never send the police after you. But my confidence
in the honour of English boys, which stands so
high now, would be broken down. And those two
nobly honest men would suffer, and might take
cold and go into a consumption, and .die ; and

248 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

their wives and children break their hearts about
them."

The boy's eyes flashed under the lamp-light, and
snatching the parcel, he said, '^ Trust me. I 'm the
boy for it."

Eighteenpence happened to be the worldly all we
had with us, after paying for the vests. I told him
how sorry I was for this ; but that it would pay his
boat each way, and he would have sixpence and a
happy heart to lie down with at night.

*' It 's a plenty. Father 's a waterman. I shall
get his boat for nothing. All 's right ! " and off h3
ran.

A note had been enclosed in the parcel to one of
the officers with whom I had had some conversation,
requesting him to send me one line by post that night
or next morning, to say that the parcel had reached
its destined owners.

The next day passed, and the next, but no letter
came from the Jura. We read in the Times that she
bad sailed on Thursday morning. The day posts of
Saturday arrived, but brought no news of the parcel.

My trust failed. ^^ My boy is dishonest," I said ;
" and my confidence in human honour can never be
the same again."

But by the last post on Saturday evening came a
note from the officer alluded to, to say that about
seven o'clock on Wednesday evening, a boy ha^^

TRUE AND TIIUSTY. 249

brought a parcel on boards and had requested per-
mission to deliver it to two men, named James P

and John M , in the presence of the captain of the

ship, the chief officer of the Corps, and the medical
officer.

Having discharged his duty, tlie last sound heard
amidst the splashing of his oars, as he left the ship's
side, was the shout, " Tell that ere lady I kept my
word, and the jackets was in time."

All honour to the English boy, who sustained my
right to trust my brothers, young or old. The world
is not so wide, but we shall meet again, I hope ; and
meet when we may, the trusty and the trusting will
be friends.

The following letters have been selected, with no
slight difficulty, from amongst very many of nearly,
if not quite equal value, in point of truth, simplicity,
and freshness : —

" February, 2nd 1856.

" Dear Lady and Dear Friend, — I now take the
pleasure of writing to you, as well as I am able, hop-
ing that you are quite well, as I am, thank God for
it. Since I took the last sight of you at Deptford, I
have many times thought of you. We had a very
fine voyage ; on the Bay of Biscay, I was half afraid
we should have been all lost, but God took care of

260 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

US, and guided us safe to Balaclava. We were three
weeks on the water — we made it our practice, a few
of us, to have a prayer-meeting with Mr Young, and
bless God, for He was there too. We should have
been in the harbour one day sooner, but it was full,
so we was forced to go back to sea again ; but we got
in quite safe at last ; then we went to work at Bala-
clava two days, and then we volunteered to go in front
of Sebastopol; working at the commissary of the

Fourth Division, me, P , and W , and we have

got a very good place. I have not seen L since

I left the Jura, but he is quite well I have heard.

Me and James P received the four flannel shirts,

and was so thankful for them. I hope God will bless
you for all your kindness. I wish you was here,
that I could hear you lecture, for there is nowhere
here that I can get any good from but God and your
Bible ; I value that as much in the Crimea as you do
your'n at home ; I can sit in my little hut and read it.
I am as happy as I can be, for I have everything that
heart can Avish for as regards this world's goods; and
I trust I am living for the next. I should love to have
a letter from you if it be not too much trouble ; this
country suits me very well at present, I cannot tell
how long I shall be here, but if you will write, please
to direct to me, at the fourth division commissary at
the front of Sebastopol Crimea, or elsewhere. We
have no clergyman up with us, more 's the pity. Give

TRUE AND TRUSTY. 251

my love to Mrs Hewitt, and all enquiring friends at
Beckenham, for I have to thank God that I ever came
there, but I should never have come, had it not been
for you. I cannot say any more at present, only, if
God don't spare me to come home, to see you again;
I hope I shall meet in heaven, so I remain yours,

"JohnM ."

" Balaklava, November the 9.

"Most Honoured Lady, — I feel in duty bound to
answer your most kind and affecting letter, and I am
sure it gave me great pleasure to receive a letter
from you. I hope this may find you and the rest of
your family in the enjoyment of good health, as that
is the greatest blessing we can expect in this sinful
world — poor unworthy creatures ; I am happy to in-
form you, this leaves me much better, than the last
time i wrote to your ladyship ; but this is a veiy un-
healthy part of the country, where we are living.
There is nearly 6 hundred more navvies landed here
this Day from England, and there is a great many
more expected out here. The Chief of our employ-
ment, is making a new Road from Balaklava, to the
front right up to Sebastopol, close side of the rail
road ; but every night or morning, i never forget the
soldiers prayer, you was so kind to give me, and I
pray to God to give me strengh to uphold it. I am
happy to inform you, that our tent is Convenient to

252 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

the .Church, and a very kind minister we have; "but
his work has been very laborious. I am sorry to inform
you, they do not regard the sabbath in this country,
for they keep open the shops the same as any other
day.

** * but a sabbath well spent, brings a week of content,
and health for the toil of to morrow ;
but a sabbath profaned, what e'er may be gained,
is a certain forerunner of sorrow.'

" I should feel very thankful, if you would be so
kind, as to answer those few lines, and give me all
the information you can Concerning the affairs of old
England ; and you will Confer a great obligation on
your humble servant Henry S ."

"Balaklava, January <Ae 21.

"Dear Friend, — ^i now embrace this favourable
opportunity of answering your most kind and serious
letter, which gave me great comfort to hear from
you, and likewise to hear you was in the enjoyment
of health, as that is the greatest blessing we can
expect in this sinful world. I am happy to inform you
this leaves me in perfect health, thank the Lord for his
kindness to me. I am happy to inform you we have
left the tents, and gone into wooden huts, and we
find ourselves much more comfortable, for we have
got a very nice little Stove, but I am sorry to inform
you I cannot devote my time so much to religious
ordinance as i should like to do, for I can assure you

TRUE AND TRUSTY. 253

there is great swearing, and so many temptations, that
I really abhor it, and I wish I was back in old England

again. Me and John W Sleep Next bed to each

other, and there is never a night pass over our heads
but we offer up a prayer for your w^elfare. we are
given to understand that peace is about to be pro-
claimed; and God grant it may be so, and then
I shall be able to live in a much better way, and live
more in the fear of the Lordj but while the lamp
holds out to bum, the vilest sinner may return. J
hope, my Dear friend, you will be kind enough to
answer this letter, as it will be a great relief to my
drooping spirits, for it gives me great pleasure always
to hear from you at any time. I must conclude with
prayer for your future happiness, and may God guard
you, as is the constant prayer of H. S ."

(From one of the men who was burnt in the confiagration
of twelve huts in the middh of the night.)

" Feb. 7, 1856.
" 'Out op sight out op mind.*

"Dear Madam, — I hope you will excuse me in
taking the liberty to send these few lines .to you,
hoping they will find you in a good state of health.
I have the pleasure to inform you that we have a
public worship on Sunday mornings and evenings, in
one of our huts, but I should be very glad to see
many more of the men belonging to the Army Works

254 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

Corps going to worship God and keep his Day. The
old proverb is as I said above, ' Out of sight out of
mind ' — that may be true. But I must acknowledge
this, that Beckenham, and the lecture one Tuesday-
night in Beckenham, is not out of my mind ; those
Excellent remarks on the words, ^ Come unto me all
ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest j ' your solemn remarks come often to my
mind, especially when I observe many of the working
men in the Army Works Corps neglect the happiness
of their immortal souls, and spend their time in non-
sense and corruption, and through that neglect their
own salvation : may God bring all to light, and con-
vert their ignorance. If the soldiers are fighting
against their Enemies, So the little militant Church
of God here in the wilderness against a strong army.
If our brave soldiers are fighting to Conquer, So the
few Christians are labouring to conquer Satan, and
to save souls. May the blessed time come soon that
the Christian's w^ar be over, and peace reign for ever,
a sanctuary in every country, and the Lord be revered
in every city, in every town, in every House, and
every family, from pole to pole. May God soon grant
the blessed time. 0 ! what a word of Comfort is the
following, ^God so loved the world That He gave
His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth,' &c.
0 ! what a consolation. 0 ! what a fact, a blessed
factj that Jesus took upon Him all our sins, Bore the

TKUE AND TKUSTY. 255

pnnisliment in our stead, The chastisement of our
peace, and by His stripes we are healed. Here's
another word of Comfort to tlie wandering sinner,
* The Son of man is Come to seek and to save that
which is lost.' Also, ^ Let the wicked forsake his
way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts, and let
him return unto the Lord, and He will have mercy
upon him, and to God, for he will abundantly j^ardon^
May God enlighten the mind of them in the Crimea
to seek the way of salvation, and trust in God and
serve him all the days of their Lives. I have no
need to desire one favor from you, to Eemember the
little Church in the Crimea^ and every Sinner here,
Because I Believe that you think often of the men of
the A. W. C. here.

" May the God of all Bless you in all your Prayers
and Labours, and kindness to the poor, and all work-
ing Classes of all kind, and Bless you in all your
efforts to Save Souls, that is my Prayer. — I am your
humble servant, K. W ."

" N.B. — Please to excuse me send the above to you.
My Best respect to Mrs Chalmers, may God bless
her Body and Soul.

" I am rather short of Books to Read here, there
is no Book selling in the Crimea.

" The Rev. C. Hudson is well, and follow hia
Divine Ministry. R. W ,

•• 3d Division, Balaklava, Crimea."

256 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

" Kadikor, near Balaclava.
" Honored Miss, — With pleasure I take this oppor-
tunity of letting you know that God has so far been
gracious to me in preserving me from all dangers
since I left England. This is a very wild and desolate
country, and I am sorry to have to inform you that
the Sabbath is almost entirely disregarded out here ;
intemperance is so prevalent, that it is ruining both
the bodies and souls of the majority of our Corps, but
now, as there is every appearance of peace, I suppose
we shall all be sent home soon : but, whether 1 return
sooner or later, I hope to return thanking God for his
many mercies to me, both in temporal and spiritual
concerns. Hoping God, in His tender mercy, will
long spare you to assist others in the way they should
go, and thanking you for all your past kindness to me,.
— I remain, your Ever Obedient and humble Servt.,

« Edwin G ^

" Sbbastopol, March the 20. 1866.

" Madam, — I Duly Keceived your very kind letter
and tract, for which I send you My Sincere thanks, as
I often Derive a great Deal of Comfort, from that and
the testament that you was so kind as to give Me
before we came Away. I thank you very much for
the kind Advice, and the good Wishes that you sent
me in the Letter, And the kind Advice that you gave
us all before we came Away, which is all for oiu: good.

TEUE AND TRUSTY. 257

what yovL said to us About the Drink out here is very
true, for there is A great Many of our Men is in the
hospital through the Drink, but I thank God for giving
me strength to withstand against the many temptations
that are here to Drink, but thank God I have taken
your Advice Since I have been out here, for I Do Not
use the Drink, And I sincerely wish that ray Comrades
Would Do the same, for it is a sad thing to see them
Drove to Madness, and killing themselves for the sake
of Drink, and, after enduring the Crimea hardships
to come home to england, if it should please God to
spare us, in Worse poverty then what they came out
in, I am sure they Will think then What A good
thing it Would have been for them if they had took
your kind Advice. We have shifted our quarters since
I sent My last letter to you. We are quartered in
Sebastopol Now, But I hear that We Are soon coming
back to England again, for We hear that the War is
at last over, thank God. I hope. Madam, these few
Lines Will find you And your sister in good health.
As, thank God, this Leaves me At present, — I remain,
Your humble servant,

"Williams ."

"Sebastopol, April 1st, —56.

" Respected Friend and Lady, — I received your
kind and most Welcome letter this afternoon, and us
Was most Happy to hear that you Was all quite well,

B

258 TRUE AND TKUSTT.

also to Hear that you Was receiving both of our
moneys quite safe. The 10s. lent, which you men-
tioned in your letter, Was also quite right, and we hope
you will Thank Mrs Chalmers kindly from both of us,
for being So kind as to lend it to us When in need. I

and my Comrade J. L are quite well, and in good

Spirits, Thank God for it, I read the Little testament
When I Can make time, and Last Sunday I read the
Little book Called, ^Walking With God Before Sebas-
topol,' to 3 or 4 of my Comrades, and they liked it Very
much Indeed. We Very often goes by the grave
yard Where Captain Vicars was buried, and many
more of his Fellow-officers. We are living about one
mile from the North Side Where the Russians are.
We can See them quite plain, and they can See us,
but they dont fire now, they did When us first came
down into the town, — But now We can go for a Walk
on a Sunday down on the Tcherneya and shake hands
with plenty of them. I dont know as I have any
thing more to Say at present, only Wishing you All
quite well. — We both Eemain, your Well Wishers,
« Thos. L and John L ."

" Balackava, April 7, 1856.

" My Dear Friend, — I received your most kind
letter on friday last, and was glad To hear from you,
as I promised to write to you The day we came on
board. I am one of the nmslcians That was playing

TEUE AND TRUSTY. 259

on board. I was very sick all my Voyage over, but
thank God I have been very well All the time I have
been here, and With God's Blessed w411 I trust I
Shall while I am here. Thank God we are as well
provided for as we Can expect out here. I am Happy
and comfortable in My place, but I miss my little
home and fireside, my Dear Wife and little children

which I left behind. They live at No. 7 place,

Brixton. If you Should wish to call or write at any
time if You are that way, they would be glad to see
you. I am Happy to tell you that Mr Hudson is
with us Still, I was With him in Chapel last even-
ing. And he is quite well I am happy to say.

" My Dear Friend, you say You think of us, and
pray for us, and beg of us to pray for ourselves, our
blessed souls we have within us. I pray daily for
mine And others j thank God My prayers are an-
swered hourly on myself. I see My fellow creatures
sick And afflicted all around me Daily, butlam spared
untouched, thank God for it. I hope with God's
Blessed will this will find You quite well and com-
fortable.— With my best wishes, I am your ever obe-
dient Servant, Arthur M "

** Camp Before Sebastpool, March 7th, — ^56.

" Honored Friend, — I take the Opportunity Of
answ^ering your Kind and Welcome Letter, In hopes
of finding you all well, as it leaves me. I have had

260 TRUE AND TKUS'iy.

a Severe cold, But thanks Be to the Lord I am a
great deal Better, the Climate is so Changeable,
perhaps for 2 or 3 days we have fine Weather, and
then we have Severe Winds, frost and snow, we
have at the present Severe Frost, and Snow 1 8 Inches
Deep, but perhaps in two or three days we Get South
or South West Winds, it will Sweep it all away in a
few hour, and We Get a field of Mud very near up
to our knees, but I hope we shall Soon Get through
the Worst of the bad Weather. Dear Friend, I must
tell you I have been to Sebastopol twice, and 1

found a Young Gentleman, Mr J D , I did one

time live with his Uncle as Gardener, he was very
pleased to see me, he with Great kindness asked me
in to his house, and I taken a Glass of Sherry and a
cigar with him. his house is in front of the Dry
Dock, as they Our fellow Countrymen have Blown
up, and the following Thursday I went to dine with
him, I very much enjoyed my treat, he has invited me
to call on him at any time, he had a very large Shot
Came through the roof of his house, but thanks be to
the Lord he was not at home at the time it happened.
May the Lord Bless him and Protect him. Sebas-
topol has been no doubt a beautiful place, a great deal
is Levelled to the ground, there was 10 Thousand
Houses, with 50 Thousand inhabitants ; how dreadful
it must have" been for the poor creatures to have had
to depart in One Night, Leaving every thing Behind

TKUE AND TRUSTY. 261

them, they had splendid Dock yards, and every
thing Comfortable for their use. We are very Glad
it is peace. I think we shall not be Long Before we
are all Home. Give My kindest love to my Dear
Children. Glad to hear they are all well ; tell them
I have got a little Medal for each of them. ]\iay the
Lord Bless them. — From your humble servant,

"William A ."

"CeiheA, April 10.

"Dear Friend, — I am very comfortable in the
Crimea. I am living with our Paymaster as his
servant j but I should like to see home again, as we
do not get half the comforts as we get at home. We
have beautiful weather out here, though it is very
changeable. We have plenty of crocuses and snow-
drops grow out here. I hope I shall soon see you
again, and thank you for your kindness to me. I
have seen a great deal of Turkish religion ; they are
as bad as heathens. Some Turkish ladies left their
homes because the telegraph wires run over the tops
of their houses ; they imagined that the wires could
tell all their secrets. I do not think 1 have any more
to say. I will conclude. — From

"James L ,"

262 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

" Balaklava, April \Uh, 1856.

" Missus , and sisters, I was very glad to liear

from you, Also I feel glad to hear that our savings are
all right; as several of our men have had a great deal of
trouble to get their money, we all shall soon be at
home. On Saturday 12th, there was 560 started from
Balaklava, on Cleopatra a screw steam ship, please
God all will arrive safe to England.

" Madam, I remember you speaking of Captain
Vicars who was killed at the storming of the Redan,
no sooner did I see his grave stone then it reminded
me of you speaking about him, he has a beautiful stone
at the head of his grave, and the grave yard is walled
all round with stone.

" As I read through your letter, I find you urge me
and all to attend to the chaplain's instructions, I am
glad to inform you he does all that Lays in his
power, I go to have Lessons in writing, we have pens
ink and paper and all instructions, we have papers
and a good variety of books, I must say Mr Hudson
has done all that he can do. I must Conclude. — your
Deal Mend,

« James M.S ,

third Divison No. 3571."

" I received a letter from home to say that you sent
home that money which I spake to you about, I

am very very much obliged to you, Missus , and

Sisters."

TEUE AND TllUSTT. 263^

" Sebastapol, Crimba, May 5tk, 1856.

" Dear Madam, — I am happy to inform you that
we are now under orders for home, and we expect to
Sail to Morrow, in a Vessel named the Clyde, and I
hope with the Blessings of God, we may all arrive
home safe, for I know that the same Lord that has
protected on Land, is also able to preserve us on the
sea ; and I think wlien I get home, I shall never
have cause to regret leaving my native home. My
Dear Madam, I am happy to tell you that since
peace has been proclaimed, the Russians have been
over here and I have been over their side ; but it is
very painful to see the ignorance the poor creatures
are living in, by all appearance I take them to be of the
Catholic religion, for in every house, let it be ever so
humble, they have a picture or figure of the blessed
Virgin, and they keep a candle or Lamp constantly
burning, for I enquired of a Eussian that could speak
English, and he informed me that they keep it
burning night and day. They never partake of any
thing without asking a blessing before and after
eating it, but they do it in a manner quite unusual
to the English, for they cross themselves several
times about the chest and forehead, but I think
that most of them are very religious in their way.
And now, dear ^fadam, I think I have told you
all, so now I must conclude with my best re-

264 TRUE AND TRUSTT.

spects and wishes to you, remaining, Your Humble
Servant,

'' William S ."

" Aemy Works Corps,
"Camp BBtoRE Sebastopol, June Zd, —56.

" Honored Lady, — I beg to inform you that I sent
you an Oil-Painting* that was taken from the large
Church in Sebastopol at the time the Town fell into
the Hands of the Allies, and which I beg to offer for
your acceptance, as a small return, on my part, for
the many Kindness, and for the great Interest you
have allways shown to the Men of our Corps. I shall
be very glad to hear of its safe arrival at Beckenham
Eectory. I am very happy to say that we are
Expecting very soon to return to England, Thank
God for it, as the Climate does not Seem to suit the
Constitution of our men. The weather is Beginning
to get very hot, But I am happy to say that we have
But very little Sickness, thank God. We have but
13 men in Hospital at present,— and God grant that
it may remain so ; for it was a shocking sight to See
the Way our men Suffered, and the number who Died
at the time of our arrival in the Crimea, — God Forbid
that I should ever witness such Sights again. We
have had as many as one Hundred and twenty nine
at one time in Hospital, I am happy to inform you

• It never i-eached its deBtination.

TRUE AND TRUSTY. 265

that I have had the Satisfaction to hear a Book read
Last week, Entitled, 4he Memoirs of Captain Hedley
Vicars, of the 97th Kegiment,' and you will no doubt
be glad to hear that it was very carefully Read, and
attentively Listened to by all the Patients in the
Hospital, which gave great Pleasure to all present. I
knew Captain Vicars, said two of the Patients, and a
true Christian he was, if ever there was one, — and God
send that he is at rest in Heaven, where we all hope
to meet again, to part no more. I have to Humbly
thank you, dear Lady, on my own part, Likewise on
the Part of all the Patients in Hospital, for the great
interest you have shown for us all in sending us so
many Little Books and Tracts, for. Believe me, they
have been the means of many tears being shed in the
Camp, for it tells us, that, although so many Hundred
miles away, that the Army Works Corps are not
forgotten by you. I must tell you that the Book I
have been speaking about was sent by our Kind
Chaplain, the Rev. Mr Hallward, who is always
ready to do any of us all the good he can. I have
myself seen the spot where Capt. Vicars is interred, —
and I am happy to say that the Grave yards are all
neatly attended to, — there is several of our men that
have got a Miniature Stone as a Remembrance of that
good man — and I must at the same time mention that
the grave yard where so many of our Poor Fellows
Lie is very nicely Laid out, and a very neat Stone

266 TRUE AND TRUSTY.

erected to their Memory, as a last sad Eemembrance
to the Departed.

" I must now beg to close this note with my Duty
to yourself, likewise your Honored Father, and
Sister, Mrs Chalmers, — hoping you will Excuse my
Boldness, I beg to Remain, Your Humble Servant,

"George M "

CHAPTEE XVIIL

|ris0n §am ijmi.

' Stone walls do not a prison make.

Nor iron bars a cage ;
Minds innocent and quiet take

That for a hermitage.

' For though men keep my outward ;

Within their locks and bars.
Yet in the faith of Christ I can

Mount higher than the stars."

TJIIVBRSITTI

oar

"-ix^

In the montli of February 1856, permission was
granted my sister and myself to visit the six
prisoners who had been convicted of having taken
part in the Penge fight. Four were confined in
Wandsworth House of Correction for a year and a
half; two in the Pentonville Penitentiary, under sen-
tence of four years* penal servitude. The governors
of the respective gaols gave all the men excellent
characters.

The men at Wandsworth were first visited. The
governor kindly permitted us to see them in his
study. The interview was an afiecting one. Young

William K , who was brought in first, said : —

" I am innocent of the fight ; but I deserved trouble
at the hand of my God, if not of man. I have been
wild, and drinking, and thoughtless. If I had not
been drunk the night after the fighting at Penge,
they wouldn't have taken me up and said I had been
along of them as did fight. But I thank God I ever
came here ; I never might have stopped to think, but
for this. But when I had to part firom my mates,

270 PRISON DOOES OPENED.

and go alone for the first time into a cell all by my-
self, and felt gone down in my heart, I remembered
the story you had told us of the young lady of five
year old, who spoke up out of her cradle one night
and said, I think anybody wants but three things in
this life — ' The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ ' to
make him holy ; and ' the love of God ' to make him
happy ; and ' the fellowship of the Holy Ghost,' that
he may always be in gjod company. And, said I,
then I '11 ask for all that in this little narrow place,
and I shan't feel lonely. And I did ask ; and hoio
I 've loved my Bible and praying ! And we go twice
of a day to chapel, and it 's beautiful to hear our
clergyman. He tells us such fine things about the
blessed Saviour, and makes such prayers ! and I go
down of my knees when I get back to my cell, and
bless God for sending me here to learn of such a
good man."

All this was said with unusual eagerness and fer-
vour. He had treasured up these thoughts for three
months, and it was his first opportunity of pouring
them out into the ear of his friends. For the time being,
it changed the character of the strong, independent
English navvy, slow to express his feelings, and far
behind the mark of their real warmth and depth in
his utterance of them, into the nature of a child,
yearning for sympathy, and desirous of communicat-
ing that which was occupying his heart and mind.

PRISON DOORS OPENED. 271

Our conversations with the other men were scarcely
less interesting ; but the impression of William

R 's innocence, which we found was shared by

those in authority over him, was an idea which neces-
sarily filled our minds. After receiving an indefinite
account of the neighbourhood in London where the
one man, who could prove an alibi for him with
regard to the place and hour of the fight, might pos-
sibly be found, or at least traced, we left the prison,
asking God to enable us to procure freedom for an
innocent man, if innocent he were.

The search was successful ; the tentmaker who had
employed him and worked with him in the Crystal
Palace Gardens, at the very hour of the fight, made an
affidavit before the Lord Mayor on a deposition taken
down by a lawyer. The same day it was presented
at the Home Office ; and justice was done promptly.

In a few days William R was with us at

Beckenham, and boarded at a cottage until he could
find work. He arrived one Friday evening. On
Sunday night, after being twice at church, he disap-
peared. My anxiety about him was great. On Tues-
day evening, the Serjeant of police brought me word
that " on Monday evening William had been to see
his old friend, Mr Yokes, at the Dolphin, Sydenham ;
had refused to drink a single glass of beer, because
^ drinking had begun his troubles ; ' and had told
the story of the blessing he had found during the

272 PRISON DOORS OPENED.

time of his imprisonment, so powerfully as to take
off all tlie men who were there from drinking, for
that evening at least — so that thej went away .ns
sober as himself."

This account cheered me not a little ; and the next
evening William re-appeared.

"Oh, William! how could you go away without
telling me? I have been grieving about you, fearing
you had got into mischief and trouble."

" There now ! I said so to ganger ; I know
her '11 fret, I said. And ganger said, ' Don't think
her '11 trouble herself about you. Her mayhap got
ye out of prison, because yer innocent; but her '11 be
glad enow yer gone off to provide for yerself.' Yer
don't know her, I said. I '11 give up a quarter-day's
work and wages, and just run over this afternoon,
and let her see I 'm all right."

" But what took you away, William, so suddenly?"

" I met my old ganger on Sunday evening, and he
said, ' Come along o' me and lodge at my house, three
mile away, and at four to-morrow morning you shall
be at work again, to keep yourself, like a man.' "

" And you never thought of sending a note or a
message ? "

" I should think I didn't. 'Twould have seemed
a liberty, like."

From that time William, the ganger, and the
ganger's little brother, came over to Beckenham

PRISON DOOES OPENED. 273

every Sunday to attend the Church services and
the evening reading^ bringing their dinner in their
pockets, and having tea at a friend's lodging. The
ganger told me that it was a pleasure to have Wil-
liam lodging with him, " he is so steady, and cheerful
too ; and we read our Bible together of nights, and
he makes a bit of a prayer, quite comfortable like."

On the day of our visiting the Wandsworth House

of Correction, to tell William K of his freedom,

the governor considered it unadvisable to allow us to
see the three other prisoners so soon again.

Little did we think that one of them was watching
us, and went sorrowfully back to his cell, all the
more lonely because his friends had seemed to for-
sake him.

" the 6 of March 1856.

" Kind Lady and Friends, — I write these few
lines to you to thank you for the Good books that
you have sent me, I thank you very much for them,
i read them with Great care, i shall keep them till i
come out of this prison, and there is a long time yet
for me to stop here. I saw you on the first of March
in the prison, and when i went to my cell and found
that you was not coming to speak to me i sheded
many a tear that night, but thank God I feals hap-
pier now then ever I did in my life before. I wish
that I had took more notice what you told me on the
Sunday when i was haven tea on your lawn in the

274 PRISON DOORS OPENED.

front of jour house. So I must conclude now for my
time is up, so I must go to my work,

" Henry K ."

The governor, with his wonted genuine kindness,
had added the following postscript : —

" My Dear Mauam, — I did not know till this

moment that Henrj K had seen you and Mra

Chalmers the other day. I shall explain to him that
you came on some other particular business, and that
it was my fault, and not yours, that you did not go to
see him. R. O.

" If you please to write to him he shall have the
letter."

It need scarcely be added that Henry received a
letter by return of post, and a visit shortly afterwards.

Some time before this, I had endeavoured to see the
two prisoners at Pentonville ; but had been informed
that no interview with them could be permitted with-
out an order from the Home Office. The excellent
chaplain, Mr Kingsmill, offered to convey a message
for me, and left the door ajar as he entered each cell.

Thus I heard his kind words, and William 's

answer, " Tell her, I read my Bible and pray the
prayer she taught me — that 's what she '11 care most
to hear." The deep depression of the tone, and the

PRISON DOORS OPENED. 275

languid utterance, struck me painfully ; and when per-
mission to visit them was most kindly offered me by
the chief authority, shortly afterwards, I discovered
how heavily solitary confinement weighs down the
navvy. The punishment to him is one of double
severity, owing to his being accustomed to spend
his life in the open air. The excessive monotony
of the employment supplied to the men — weaving a
Penelope's web of coarse canvass for " wrappering,"
with no variation in it, yard after yard, for day after
day, and month after month* — is surely an unnecessary
aggravation of the terrible mental trial of the sepa-
rate system ; a system of unquestionable merit in its
effect upon the moral condition of the prisoner, where
some liberty is accorded to the Executive to relax
its conditions with judicious and discriminating
humanity.

I am, of course, taking it for granted that the
governor has these qualities in no common measure.
And I believe, in almost all the appointments made

* As this work is substituted for oakum-picking, by way of a reward
for good conduct, it may be allowable to suggest, that in the centre of
every seventh yard of canvass should be woven, in red, a large V. R.
I believe that the brightness of the bit of colour would act like the
charm of a cheerful vuice in the lonely cell, and that on the **red
letter day" many a man would break his sullen silence, to shout, " God
save the Queen!" He would be a better man and a more loyal subject
from that day forth, for the relief granted to the dreary sameness of each
hour's work in his oppressive solitude, by being permitted, at intervals,
to adorn his canvass with the initials of his gracious Sovereign.

276 PRISON DOORS OPENED.

of late yearSj the most earnest pains have been taken
by Colonel Jebb, Chairman of the Directors of
Prisons, to secure such men.

At Preston Gaol, where a chaplain of singularly in-
fluential heart and character is nobly supported by the
governor, all those miserable partitions in the chapel,
which render each man invisible to his neighbour, are
pulled down; and a generous confidence, that the
prisoners will not tamper with each other during the
time set apart for the worship of God, has never been
abused. There, also, those prisoners who have con-
ducted themselves particularly well, are allowed to
meet together for a certain number of hours in the
work-room ; and although communication is strictly
forbidden, by word, touch, or look, the very sense of
being assembled together h^" th^. effect of preserving
them from an injurious Tesp ).idency. That these
modifications of the system nave been found truly
beneficial in their results, I was informed when visit-
ing that gaol in the autumn of 1856 ; and could well
believe it from the humble and softened expression of
many of the prisoners' countenances.

Both the navvies were seriously altered in appear-
ance, and were so weakened, bodily and mentally, that
they could only welcome my sister and myself with
tears. One had a sort of goitre growing in his throat,
the result of the general depression of his system. We
ventured to ask the governor — who treated us with

PRISON DOORS OPENED. 277

the most cordial courtesj — to put him on the sick list,
in the hope that he might be ordered a nourishing
diet for some little time to come. This request was
most kindly complied with ; and thus the poor fellow's
constitution did not quite give way before the order
was considerately given for them to be sent to Port-
land Island, for penal servitude more suited to their
nature and habits of life. A few months more in
that dark prison, and those men themselves believe
their health would have been lost for ever. Owing to
their good conduct throughout, the term of their
imprisonment was shortened to half the time of their
sentence ; and they visited us the day after their libe-
ration, with humble, thankful hearts.* The same
favour was accorded to the remainder of the men,
according to the measure of their sentences.

* They spoke with much gratitude of the kindness and seal of the Rer.
T. Dobie, chaplain to the convicts at Portland Island.

CHAPTER XIX.

Mdtmt 3mt

* The feast is spread through England

For rich and poor to-day ;
Greetings and laughter may be then

But thoughts are far away.
Over the stormy ocean.

Over the dreary track,
"Where some are left whom En^jmd

Will never welcome ba^"

On the 8th of May 1856, the Cleopatra anchored
off Portsmouth, and six hundred of the men of the
Army Works Corps, with exuberant joy, stood again
on English ground.

From that time, until the last detachment of work-
ing men landed from the Crimea, we were in the
habit of keeping open house for their visits. They
came, usually in comj^anies from three to a dozen in
number, from London or other places, at once for a
welcome back to England, and for a farewell before
proceeding to remote parts of the United Kingdom —
to the Continent, for the formation of foreign railways
— or to America, Canada, or Australia, to remain there
for life.

There was something both surprising and touching
in the discovery that months of hardship, toil, and
privation, amidst scenes of war in a foreign land, had
not lessened the glow of grateful fiiendship formed,
during so brief an intercourse, before they had left
their own country.

Generally speaking, we had conversation with each

282 THE WELCOME HOME.

man separately, and heard much to give ns hope, and
sometimes full satisfaction — though too often, also,
things which grieved us.

J, L 's confession was one of the saddest. For

three months after landing in the Crimea, he had
found the peace and the pleasantness of seeking to
walk with God. But the long and grievous depar-
ture which had followed, he traced to his first wilful
breach of the Lord's commandment, " Eemember the
Sabbath-day to keep it holy." In the afternoon of
an autumn Sabbath, he had walked to the French
camp for amusement. Hot and wxary, he drank a
glass of brandy, " and then I forgot my happiness —
I forgot my God — and have gone down deeper and
deeper from that day."

" And have been miserable ? "

" Yes ;" (in a firm but sullen tone) "miserable !"

" And have you ever thought of the dishonour you
were bringing on your Saviour's name; or of the
souls you were dragging down with you to Satan,
instead of leading up to Jesus ? "

He had been standing till then with something of
the defiant air of a Red Indian chief, his tall, power-
ful form wrapped round in a Crimean cloak. But
after pondering that question for a moment, he drop-
ped into a chair, turned aside his head with a gush of
tears, and went on weeping till every limb shook with
his great distress.

THE WELCOME HOME. 283

Surely, I thouglit, the Spirit of God is still striving
here, and striving mightily. After seeking to render
him help by silently praying for him, I said a few
plain words about the Saviour's goodness to the
backsliding ones, and then besought him not to go
on putting this forbearing, gracious Saviour "to an
open shame."

" I want to get back to Him," he said at last ; " and
I believe I should, hut for this drink. It is drink
that keeps me from Hirrij and from hcype^

" I know it. And from this day forward, you must
give it all up. You must make a tremendous effort,
in the strength of God. This ^ drink ' is the great
wave which is washing your soul down to the mouth
of hell. It must be manfully resisted, by the help of
God. Promise me you will give it up from this day."

He paused for some moments, then promised to
make the effort, and joined earnestly in prayer for
grace to keep his word.

It was some time before we heard of him again.
When he wrote at last, he informed us that " he was
engaged in a very serious bit of work, going to be
married to a very comfortable person, and he hoped
it would prove a blessing to all the parties con-
cerned." From the tone of two subsequent letters,
we trust and hope that he had escaped from the snare
of drinking, and was seeking his God with an earnest
heart.

284 THE WELCOME HOME.

As many of our friends came from some distance
to see us, we provided coffee and cake for them — a
little attention which seemed to give much gratifica-
tion. Few came to us empty-handed. Some small
remembrance, brought from the Crimea with anxious
care, bore its little testimony to the thoughtfulness
of their generous hearts. Coins of various descrip-
tions ; Kussian charms ; a Jewish phylactery box, dug
up at Sebastopol ; brooches and seals, cut and polished
by their own hands from the rocks at Sebastopol and
Balaklava; a pair of pigeons; coloured engravings
from Malta ; and, far more touching than all, stones,
dust, blades of grass and flowers from one grave in
the Crimea, to which all seemed to bend their steps.
Many had attempted sketches of it. Others had
spoken with the men of the 97th, and had treasured
up their words of love and respect for Captain Vicars'
memory.

Pleasant was it to hear their short, strong state-
ments of not having forgotten us in the Crimea.
"Once we heard as you was dead, and nigh two
thousand of us ran together and prayed God it wasn't
true ! " And again : " Whenever any more comed
over, we said, first thing, ^ Been to Beckenham,
mates ? How was they ? " '

Henry B told us of the death of his mate,

William Hawkesworth. " He never was the same
man after he came to Beckenham lawn, for the

THE WELCOME HOME. 285

breakfast and prayer ; never swore from that morn-
ing ; took to his Bible, and seemed quiet and happy.
We used to sing our hymns together. He never fell
off out of that way, but v. ent straight on towards his
Saviour, till the day he was blowed up by gunpowder
— and I believe he went straight up to heaven."

" And how are you going on, Henry?"

" I'm trying to go on as he did. 1 never drank a
pint of nothing in the Crimea, that I might keep me
out of harm's way."

Henry was gravely glad to see the large sum of
money to which his savings had amounted, and then
inquired, " Pray, ma'am, what do I owe you?"

<^ Nothing, Henry."

" Oh yes, ma'am, if you please ; I should like to
pay something handsome for the trouble. It 's but
fair."

*' Not fair to us, Henry ; for that would spoil our
pleasure in having done it for friendship."

" Well, then, you can't refuse to take a pound to
put to getting Bibles for them as has none."

I saw his heart was set on giving a thank-offering,
so I let him give a portion of the sum he named to the
Bible Society.

Young Robert S came the same day. He was

a fine specimen of a Highlander, with a broad, open
brow, an honest, noble countenance, and a true,
strong, Scottish heart. He did not say much, but all

286 THE WELCOME HOME.

that dropped from his lips was to the point j and ho
was full of gratitude, both for the goodness of God,
and for the little kindnesses of friends.

A few days later he came again for his savings, and
to take leave. He was delighted, with a child-like sim-
plicity, to find that we had once spent a day or two in a
house in the Highlands where his father had lived as
butler. He chose only to take a third of his joroperty
home, deciding to write for the rest when he should
have need for it.

After putting the gold into his purse, I saw him
open and shut it two or three times, with something
of nervous anxiety, unlike his usual calm, forceful
manner; then, colouring up to the roots of his hair,
he drew out two sovereigns. " I hope you won't be
offended, ma'am ; here are two pounds for you and the
young lady, if you '11 just be pleased to take them for
the trouble you have both had."

" Thank you, Kobert, all the same as if we could
take it from you. But you must put it back into your
own pocket. If you had done any thing to serve a
friend, to the best of your ability, out of hearty good-
will, would you be half as happy about it if you
accepted a reward for it?"

He thought the question well through before he
replied, " No, I think not ; and if it would spoil your
pleasure, I '11 say no more about it."

There was character in all this. It was not the

THE WELCOME HOME. 287

open-handed fling of a recklessly-generous heart — like
that of a navvy who was throwing half-crowns and
shillings to a knot of women and children in the road.

But it was clear that Robert S felt it was the just

thing to do, and he would do the just thing hand-
somely, with a full knowledge of the value of his two
pounds, and of the use he had for them himself. He
put them back, slowly too — not greedily, nor even
readily, but with a conviction that it was as manly
and generous to accept the free service of friendship,
as it was to offer, in the first instance, to pay for it.

After some conversation touching deeper interests
than even his well-earned little " capital," in the
course of which he gave me reason to hope that his
heart and his treasure were laid up in heaven, he
stood with glistening eyes by the door, and said, ^' I
had brought you, and all them at home, some nice
presents ; but my kit was stolen at Portsmouth.
What I minded the worst was that your Testament
was in it, that I had taken such care of in the
Crimea.'*

We were glad indeed to replace it. After he had
left the room, he looked back to say, " Father has to
do with the salmon-fishing. If a salmon comes from
Inverness some day, you'll not be hurt about it?"

I need scarcely say we assured him that it would be
the best salmon we could ever eat.

On the 18th of May we went to meet the whole

288 THE WELCOME HOME.

body of the men then returned, on our old ground by
the Crystal Palace Pay Office. Their welcome was
very cordial and pleasant. Whilst speaking to them,
with the certainty of its being the last time on earth,
excepting in isolated instances, about the things that
belong to our peace, a man who called himself " an
artisan," a stranger to me and to most of the men,
interrupted me with an attack upon the character of
our blessed Redeemer. Praying silently for wisdom,
I answered him briefly, and then continued to address
the rest. Just as he was about to speak again, an-
other mechanic, with a pale, intellectual face, drew

him aside, and L heard him say : " The lady has

offered to discuss these points with you, if you will go
to Beckenham for the purpose. When she comes
here, it is to speak to us all of what is in her heart ;
and the hearts of nearly all the men go with it while
they listen. I am a Catholic, but I can listen to it all,
and agree with the main things."

" But I can't and won't," replied the infidel ; " and
I don't want to set her right alone, but all of you.
1 want all to hear me."

" Then get up on that heap of stones," said our
friend, " and talk to all as likes to hear ye ; nobody
hinders. Only don't expect the hearts of us to go
with you, as they do with a lady that cares for us as
if we were her own brothers."

This colloquy was not repeated to me until after

THE WELCOME HOME. 289

we had left the ground. 1 went back to seek out the
pale thoughtful face, and to thank its owner for his
timely support. He stepped aside from the crowd.
"You and I have a strong bond of sympathy," I
said ; " the love of that Saviour whose name we could
not bear to hear spoken against."

" We have, madam," he replied. " We have one
Father, and one Saviour."

" And one Holy Ghost, the Comforter," I added.

" Yes," he replied solemnly ; " but I have not
heard or thought much of Him. He is not much
spoken of in our chapel."

He listened earnestly to the words, " And I will
pray the Father, and he shall give you another Com-
forter, that he may abide with you for ever ;

" Even the Spirit of truth ; whom the world cannot
receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth
him : but ye know him ; for he dwell eth with you,
and shall be in you.

" The Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom
the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you
all things, and bring all things to your remembrance,
whatsoever I have said unto you.

" When he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will
guide you into all truth."

" Is He not worth seeking — asking to dwell in
yom^ heart? Oh, would you begin from this day
to entreat His presence, and never leave off asking

T

290 THE WELCOME HOME.

to be ^ filled with the Holy Ghost ' (like the disciples
of old) until you are enjoying the presence of your
Saviour face to face in glory? "

With earnestness he promised to pray that prayer,
and to accept a Bible, which was sent by post that day.
Our last words were a mutual agreement to pray for
the conversion of the poor scoffing unbeliever.

Charles R , a bricklayer, took back the whole

of his capital at once to build a cottage at , " And

you shall be the first to step across its floor, if you
please, ladies." He began to have "family prayers"
with his wife on his return from the Crimea.

A young navvy, with a bright, honest faoe, and
sailor-like manner, returned to shew us how he had
invested the first instalment of his savings. " I knew
you 'd be glad to see I had not wasted the £12."

" Not wasted," indeed ! The investment included
a silver hunting watch and gold chain ; a blue pilot
coat ; neat plaid trousers ; and as the crowning glo-
ries, a green velvet waistcoat and a blue Glengarry
bonnet, with a red band. Within this holiday attire
dwelt a sober and steady little soul, who was return-
ing to the home of his elder brother, a schoolmaster
in the west of England, probably to provoke no
small amount of excitement and admiration in the
" circle of his acquaintance."

Another of the men, who had returned at an earlier
date in bad health, came from his widowed sister's

THE WELCOME HOME. 291

house, in Staffordshire, to visit us about this time.
He brought with him the present of a handsome
China jug, which he had ordered according to his
fancy, with an inscription in gold letters upon it.
He tried to procure work in the neighbourhood ; and
said, ''Ye see I wish to live and die here, for mj
soul's sake." But, alas ! the temptation of meeting
with some of his wilder mates, on their return from
the Crimea, was too much for him, and he was led
away to intemperance. He did not return to his
lodging at Beckenham after this, nor should I have
met him again, had I not gone to see a fresh detach-
ment of the corps which had come for payment to the
Crystal Palace upon their arrival in England. Poor
T B was lingering about, but retreated out-
side the crowd when he saw I had noticed him. I

followed. '' Oh, T , I have been in great trouble

about you. Are you not coming back to Beckenham ?"

" No ! I came there for my soul's sake, and then
up here for its ruin. The devil has got hold of me
at them lot of gin-shops down yon, and now I 'm
going away as far off as I can."

With some difficulty he was persuaded into a pro-
mise to spend the next day, Sunday, in Beckenham,
and to come to the Rectory before church. His peni-
tence was very affecting. But was this to be the end
of his wish " to live and die in Beckenham"? We
could hardly bear it.

292 THE WELCOME HOME.

Young William E stood outside tlie Eectory

gate, waiting for a recognition and a word from us on
our way to church. I called him aside, and told him

my trouble. T had been a mate of his when the

Army Works Corps was assembling for the Crimea.
They used to drink together then ! After church,
Yv^illiam came to me, his countenance radiant with
an idea. " I couldn't help thinking on 't in church,
and praying, too. I '11 take him to my ganger, and
get him to give him work alongside of me. He wants
a helping hand. And he shall lodge along o' me.
And he '11 be at our prayers of nights ; and at
them readings of yourn, whenever work 's over
sharp enough for us to get in time for them from
Penge."

"Oh, William, God bless you!"

From that time, for a fortnight, all went on delight-
fully. Then I missed both for four days. After one

of the readings, I saw William E 's bright young

face overclouded. He wanted to see me alone, but
could not speak. " What of T , William '? "

He turned his head away, with a burst of tears.
In a minute or two, recovering himself he said,
"We had been so happy, and he seemed to love
reading the Bible and praying along of me. But last
Friday he met some of the old mates, and they treated
him, and he never came back. I 've been all about
the country these three days, looking for him ; but

THE WELCOME HOME. 293

he 's gone right off; and you '11 be so disappointed;
and, what 's worse, he 's away from his God again."

This came out, sentence by sentence, with a sob
between each. I never saw that fine young man
shew half so much feeling for himself, when he was
unjustly imprisoned. Some time afterwards he

heard of T on a distant line, and went off to

work there, in the hope of being again a helper to

him. God gave him his heart's desire. T has

become a sober and steady man, and, I trust, a real
Christian, by the grace of God.

Many of the men, after receiving their savings, or
whatever portion they chose to have at first, came
again from some distance for one of the cottage read-
ings. George K , an honest, simple, noble spe-
cimen of an English labourer, came from Stratford,
in Essex, on a Monday, with this intent, and finding
the reading was not till Tuesday, went back again,
and returned the next day. He seemed to be " fol-
lowing the Lord fully." A few days afterwards he
sailed for Australia. He begged to be allowed to
leave a portion of the interest of his savings for the
Bible Society, as did many others.

Alfred H said that he had been ill for many

months after he landed in the Crimea. " When
I went into hospital, and was laid on my bed^ day
after day, thinking each would be my last, God re-
minded me of all I had heard in Beckenham. I

294 THE WELCOME HOME.

believe I did come to Jesns then, and that He has
kept me hard by Him ever since."

" And do you pray much for grace to live as a
Christian?"

" I do pray ; and God does help me. He has made
me give up drinking. I don't believe I 've spent one
penny in drink since I stepped ashore in the Crimea."

George S gave much the same sort of account

of himself, excepting tlie illness. He said that on
the day of hearing the farewell words on board the
Berwick^ he had pledged himself to his God, and that
his God had kept him ever since, and prospered him,
too, on every side. His savings were partially ex-
pended on the purchase of a green-grocery business.

James G was one of the few men out of the

whole number who caused us distress, by coming in
a state of drunkenness. Five times in one week he
came in the same condition ; silly, yet always respect-
ful and obliging. Each time I refused to give him
his money until he could come for it perfectly sober.
The sixth time he was himself. Then I spoke to him
earnestly. He said, after a little while, "Don't go
on. Missus; you'll make me cry."

This alarm was not suflficient to deter me. Finally,
he did cry, and promised, by God's help, to give up
drinking. I believed he would, because he joined in
prayer so solemnly and earnestly. A week afterwards
he came again, looking very much more of a man,

THE WELCOME HOME. 299

but pale almost to illness. He had not tasted beer
or any other intoxicating liquor for seven days. A
steady, respectable man, who came with him, said,
*'I lodge in the same house, and have seen his
mates persuading of him. But it's no use. He
won't touch a drop. He says he has promised his
God and promised you, and he '11 keep to it."

He went down to his father's house, in Norfolk,
the next day, and we have never seen him since,
God grant him grace to " hold on his way."

An Irish Roman Catholic, named Dennis M ,

had long won our esteem by his generosity to a con-
sumptive brother-in-law, to whom he transmitted the
larger portion of his savings. He called for the re-
mainder, which proved to be only the sum of £8, 15s.
With less hesitation and shyness than it had cost
our fine young Highlander to make a similar request,
he earnestly besought us to " accept of a sovereign."
^' What ! Dennis, do you think we would lessen
your store, and after all your generous kindness to
your poor brother-in-law? "

" Ah, then, lady dear, but I should be so happy
if you and the young lady that has done so much
would take the pound for your throuble."

It was with difiiculty we could convince him that
the thing was impossible. But with a love of giving
which would not be overcome, and a delicacy that
forebore to press a matter painfully, that man, with a

296 THE WELCOME HOME.

royal heart under a ragged coat, sent back a crown
piece, for " getting Bibles for poor souls like him,
because his own Bible that was given him at Becken-
ham, had spoken many a beautiful word to him when
he was far away ; and he would never give it up, no,
never ! "

Jack B brought his brother-in-law and his

niece for the remainder of his money, which was to
be settled upon the young girl. " Now I 've got rid
of it all, and I 'm going to sea again. I was born and
bred a sailor, and don't like digging the earth so well
as ploughing the sea, by half."

The only part of his property which he retained
was his Testament with the " Soldier's Prayer."
" That shall go with me over the world, and I '11 pray
that little prayer when I 'm aloft."

As we walked up the village an hour afterwards,
we caught a view of ^' Jack," his brother, and the
little niece, in a grocer's shop. Jack shouted from it,
" Oh ! ma'am, here we are ! eating bread and cheese.
I would not have you catch me in a public-house for
any money."

We found afterwards that they had declined the
coffee and cake provided at the coachman's house by
the Eectory gate, for all the Army Works Corps men
who came from a distance, considering that, as two of
the three were not belonging to the Corps, it would be
"imposing" to accept it.

THE WELCOME HOME. 297

The coachman's wife remarked to me, that the thing
which touched her heart the most, about the majority
of those whom she thus entertained, was their delight
in seeing little children again, after having only seen
^' grown men " for so many months. They w\itched
the gnmbols of her own little boy, and of my sister's
little son, upon the lawn, and said, " They looks like
angels to us, after camp life in the Crimea."

Alexander S and Andrew M gave us

great satisfaction. They were two of the Scotchmen
who had written a letter nobly characteristic of their
Bible-honouring country, in thaf its purport was to
thank me for " having taught them nothing without
appealing to the Word of God to prove it."

These men were strong, intelligent, and affection-
ate-hearted. Alexander had £40 in our hands, and
said '' he was going home, and would send for it."

" And where is your home? "

" Scotland."

" Whereabouts in Scotland?"

" Nowhere ! I have no other home than the
country. ^^

'-'' We are going to Scotland this autumn, God will-
ing. If either of you should chance to see me, and I
should not have seen you, you will come and shake
hands with me."

^^ Would we not?" with a short, quiet laugh ot
surprise, at the request being supposed to be neces-

298 THE WELCOME HOME.

saiy. "We would walk twenty miles to see ye.
None of the men of the Corps thanked God for ye
mair than the Scotch."

" Oh, Alexander ! did you read your Bibles, and try
to live as the Word of God told you?"

" We did try, and often thought of the words you
used to say; and read, and prayed, and sang psalms
amongst ourselves."

This man begged to leave the interest of his savings
for the Bible Society. Andrew had no money to
receive from us, having left his allotment paper with
his relatives.

On the following Monday morning six men, all
more or less intoxicate 1, caiiie to the Rectory. Only

one of them, poor John W , liad laid by money

with us ; but the chief speaker, Edward W r, a

" rough and ready" Lancashire man, was vehement in
insisting that I should immediately give £10 to John

W , which it was clear they all intended to share.

I said it was my rule to give no man his money
without first seeing his Army Works Corps' Engage-
ment Paper; nor would I, even then, give him his
money unless he came sober. After some little time,
seeing that I was determined, they gave up ilie point,

John W saying, " Take care what you say to

she — her's been very kind to me." The poor fellow
remembered, even in his half-senseless state, that I
had paid his fine of 10s. when he was imprisoned

THE WELCOME HOME. 29^

for drinking, that he might be set free in time to go to'
the Crimea. He gave himself no rest till he had re-
paid the money. Before they went away, I said to
them, "It would have been well if you had all laid by
money, instead of lavishing it on drink in the Crimea;
but what is worse than wasting your money, you. are
selling an eternal inheritance for a few miserable mugs
of beer. And even if you sold it for a life of honours
and pleasures, ^ What shall it profit a man if he gain
the whole world and lose his own soul ; or what shall
a man give in exchange for his soul?'"

I spoke thus solemnly to them for a few moments,
and one by one they turned half round on the bench
on which they were sitting, and laid their hcad^ on

the hall table, and wept. Edward W made an

ineffectual effort to get at the table, but it was too
full, so he turned and w^alked away to hide his
tears.

On Tuesday they all came again, sober, but with-
out the Engagement Paper. Edward W had

resumed his resolute bearing, eyed me firmly, and
said, they would not stir without the £10, I felt it
absolutely necessary to be firm, for although I well

remembered poor John W , it was essential

strictly to observe the rule made of never giving up
any money committed to my keeping, without the
proof of identity afforded by the Engagement Paper.
I therefore answered quietly, but in terms which I

300 THE WELCOME HOME.

knew they would understand, that " if the 3800 men
of the Army Works Corps were to come and to in-
sist on my breaking a rule which was made for the
real interest of the men who laid by their wages with
me, I would not give them one farthing if they waited
till Christmas for it." I then left them, and from an
adjoining room heard Edward say, '' D'ye 'ear, she 's
made up 'ur mind — there '11 be no turning she."

They were now anxious to go and fetch the paper,
which had been left in London; so, finding they had
no money left, I lent them a couple of shillings, and,
after giving them some bread and meat, sent them
away. About four o'clock they returned. Poor John
consented to leave £20 of his money in my hands for
a time, and carefully reminded me of every shilling
which had been lent him, that it might be withdrawn
from the sum which was to be paid to him at once.
Whilst his companions surveyed his treasure, I said
to them, "You see what a good thing it is to lay by
your money instead of spending it recklessly."

"Yes," said Edward, "if I had laid by I might
have had enough to have bought a wife with."

" If a woman is to be bought, Edward, she is not
worth having."

" Ah ! that 's true ; and Solomon says they are all
vanity and vexation of spirit.'*

" That was said of all the things of this world, not
of wives only."

THE WELCOME HOME. 301

" Oh ! SO it were, and I learnt a proverb at school
which said a good wife is from the Lord."

" Well, then, you must serve the Lord, Edward,
if you want His good gifts."

I then said a few earnest words to them all. As
we prayed, Edward was again overcome, and rising
from his knees, went towards the door, but whilst
endeavouring to open it, in his agitation he bolted it,
and so knelt down again, leaning his head against the
panel, and sobbing like a child. They were all as
humble and grateful as children when they went
away.

I must add that this was the only instance in
which I have met with any failure in the utmost
civility and gentleness of demeanour.

One Sunday, Eichard T , the hero who was

^' greater than he that taketh a city," on the occasion
of the Penge fight, appeared at Beckenham Church
in a fine suit of black cloth and a flaming red velvet
waistcoat. In the afternoon he came to the Kectory,
and we found him as strong, and simple, and warm
of heart as ever. By God's grace he had stood his
ground, and had brought back a high character for
steadiness and excellence of conduct. He shewed me
a charming letter from his wife which was worn
about his heart. His mate, James H , had re-
turned with him, and was speaking on Saturday
night with great joy of being up with the lark on

302 THE WELCOME HOME.

Sunday to go down to Beckenham; lie didn't "know
a pleasanter place/' he said, " or a better friend." A
little while afterwards he fell back upon his chair in
a fit, and never spoke again. Every book and letter
which he had received from Beckenham were found
about his person after his death. Richard said he
had been a steady man, and loved his books ; more
than that he could not tell me. But I hope he went
on that Sabbath morning to a "pleasanter place" than
Beckenham, to find "a Better Friend" indeed than
any poor mortal one.

A day or two afterwards there stood in the hall,
head and shoulders above the crowd, a huge Irish-
man. There was no forgetting the kindly heartiness
of his smile. " Welcome home, Peter F ."

" Och now, she reniimlers me, bless her sowl."

"You are come for your savings, Peter, and I
think we have nearly £50 for you."

" Not a bit for the money to-day, but for the plea-
sure of seeing ye 're alive. Then, lady dear, I'm going
to lodge in the village a day or so."

The next evening I called at his lodgings to give
notice of a "reading" next door. He was just sit-
ting down to a smoking hot supper. " You must not
come till you have done justice to that hot pie, Peter."

But in two minutes he was on one of the benches
before me. " Oh, Peter, you have left your supper
unfinished.'*

THE WELCOME HOME. 303

*'Aud wasn't it fitting I should when you were
going to speak for our sowls, lady ? "

The next day he called for a small portion of his
money, requesting us to send the rest after him to
Ireland. lie had worn out the binding of his Testa-
ment, so I gave him a pocket Bible. It so happened
that I had never asked him if he were a Protestant
or a Roman Catholic; in fact, a single question on
the subject would, I believe, have frightened away
some of my Irish friends. But whilst speaking of
the commandments, in this conversation, I quoted
the second, of which he had never heard. After he
had shewn me his Catechism, in which it was omitted,
with another commandment divided into two to make
the number correct, I just said, " When you are in
Ireland, perhaps you "will see graven images of the
Lord Jesus. Do not worship them. Look above
them — up to the Living Man in Leaven, the God-
man, Jesus Christ our Saviour."

" I 've thought more of Him and less of therrij'' he
said, '^ since I read that little Testament you gave me.
Often IVe blessed it, and you too. I brought ye
some beautiful pictures home, but they were stolen
with my kit as we landed. But IVe one pretty
thing left, I bought it at Malta," and he slowly drew
out of his pocket a little silver crucifix ; " you must
have that."

" Oh no, Peter, T could not take it; it is too costly."

dM THE WELCOME HOME.

'^ No, lady, I did not pay mucli for it, and you had
better take it — you had hettery

"Why had I better take it, Peter?"

"It is safer with you. You will not worship it.
Perhaps I should."

I marked the effort of a struggling conviction, and
thought of the words, " Ye have turned to God from
idols." I took it, with tears in my eyes, from the
great trembling hand ; " Peter, each time I see this,
I shall look up to heaven and pray, ^ Lord Jesus,

help Peter F to worship Thee, Thine own

blessed self, and not a graven image.' "

A little more conversation followed, and then I
told him of Cardinal Bellarmine's dying words,
when prayers to the Virgin had been said for him,
"It is safest to trust hi Jesus."

After he had gone away, his little crucifix weighed
heavily on my heart. It was "not safe" for him to
keep it, he had said. But what had he left that
could refine his taste, or be associated with softened
feeling? Something he must have to make a little
treasure of. A silver pencil, with an onyx-stone seal,^
was on my desk, and a carved ivory box for its case.
It was the sort of thing to remind him of our conver-
sation, and of the marked texts in his Bible. So I
hastened througli the village in the hope of finding
him still at his lodgings. He stood at the door,
and I put the pencil-case into his hand. It was

THE WELCOME HOME. 305

delightful to see his look of astonishment and plea-
sure.

^* Did you walk so fast and come here out of breath
to bring this for me? "

Then he held up the pencil-case delicately with the
tip of his great finger and thumb, as if fearful of
crushing it ; and after a pause added, " It shall be
buried with me."

I knelt down in the cottage, and prayed that God
would give him a living faith in a living Saviour, and
keep him worshipping, serving, and trusting in Him
only. As we parted, he said, " I have never forgot-
ten my kind dead father, and I '11 never forget you
to my dying day."

" Nor my last words to you at the Rectory, Peter ?
Those are what I want you to remember."

" How can I think of you, lady, and not remember
them? It is safest to trust in Jesus."

He wrote afterwards for his money that he might
be able to go to America; since then we have never
heard of him. God grant we may see him again, at
the right hand of the King !

A Prussian, who had left his money-order with us
in the previous autumn, after hearing some of the men
of the Corps speak of us, came for his savings, and to
inquire for a German Bible which Mr Chalmers had
procured for him then, but which had failed to reach
him. He was greatly pleased with it. After receiving

V

306 THE WELCOME HOME.

liis draft, lie said in broken English, " You liave taken
great trouble about my moneys, and I cannot recom-
pense you, ladies, and you would not receive a recom-
pense. But will you grant me the favour to spend
a sovereign for me on the poorest old person you know
in your village?"

I said, " Not a sovereign. It is too much out of
your small capital. But if you like to give five
shillings to the poor, as a thank-offering to God for
your preservation, I will do with it as you direct."

" Ah, madam, take ten shillings."

" No, not ten. Five."

He laid them down; and then quietly slipped a
third half-crown under the two, as he walked away,
blessing us in broken English.

It was to the kind though tfulness of Mr Parrott,
the chief agent at the office for the Army Works
Corps in London, that we owed our being enabled to
see almost all the men who returned, whether tliey
came to the Kectory or not. Notice was given us of
the hour of their rendezvous at the old spot, in the
Crystal Palace grounds ; and very pleasant were those
short meetings. Once, and once only, the notice did
not reach us in time. We were told afterwards that
the three hundred men who came that day lingered
for some hours, watching each carriage which came
to the Crystal Palace, and often shouting as one came
in sight, " There they be, at last." It was a grievous

THE WELCOME HOME. 307

thing, never to be able to tell them how it was that
they were unconsciously neglectiid ; nor how often
they have been prayed for since — perhaps with double
earnestness, because no little farewell charge was given
to them as to the others.

The men who had returned in the Tynemouth
were charmed to hear the delightful testimony to their
good conduct borne by Captain Stewart's letter to
the TtmeSj which I read aloud to them, suggesting,
if it was so pleasant to know that all England was
reading this testimony in their favour, how over-
whelming would be their gratitude and joy when they
heard the King of glory own them, before an assem-
bled universe, as those who had "confessed Him
before men." There was an earnest Amen from many
voices, as I said, " God, of His grace, grant it to be
Slid of every one of you."

The next day was the pay-day for the carpenters
of the Corps. We had a good deal of conversation
together. They were, for the most part, " radical
reformers;*' and alluded to the want of sympathy
between the different classes of society, with some
bitterness.

I admitted that there was an absence of it too gene-
rally, simply because they did not know one another ;
adding that if they were to meet more frequently,
nnd with more confidence in each other, they would
soon find what cordial friendships could be formed

308 THE WELCOME HOME.

without losing their position on either side — positions
made "by the providence of God, and which, in their
very variations, made the strength and excellence of
Great Britain. After talking this over together, quietly
and amicably, I said, ^' Let us never forget that there
was One of Koyal Birth, who for sympathy's sake be-
came a working man, in the days when working men
had their wages reduced by fraud or seized by violence,
and dwelt with his foster-father, a carpenter, and was
^ subject unto him.' " A few more words touching
His sorrows, and His suflferings unto death, were
listened to with feeling earnestness, — and then those
words of living power, "Now then, as ambassadors
for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; we
pray you in Christ's stead, be ye reconciled to God,"
seemed almost to startle them into a resolution to
live with a new aim. Many a hand was stretched
out to mine from every side, with the simple words,
or others of like import, " I '11 try to do it, and to get
others along with me, if God will help me."

Amongst all the men who had left their money-
orders with us, there were not more than six to whom
we gave up their savings with the fear that they
would be imprudently or improperly spent. Nearly
all the others took time to consider in what manner
they should invest their fortunes ; and most of them
consulted us about the mode of investment, in the
most confiding manner. Tn one and all we met

THE WELCOME HOME. 309

with cordial gratitude, variously expressed. Many-
seemed to take delight in recalling each little
act of kindness shewn them before they went out.
Frequent allusion was made to the sums of money
which had been advanced to all who required it, for
the purchase of a few comforts for their wardrobe,
beyond the outfit provided by Government. The
repayment of these loans was secured by their leaving
their money-orders with us, involving only the risk
of desertion or of death before their wages were due.
Two deaths occurred, but no desertion, before these
debts were repaid.*

We were enabled to carry out on a liberal scale the
plan of advancing these loans upon the money-orders,
by the thoughtful benevolence of one whose sun has
gone down while it was yet day, the lamented SiR
Henry Lawrence.

Of the public character of this great and good man,
it is not for me to speak. The highest in authority
have borne testimony to the energy and wisdom with
which he ruled a vast province. Those who served

• Later in the period of the engagement, one of these men deserted.
He was the only real navvy whom I have ever known to be a systematic
beggar. He has since traded with an old letter of mine, from which he
had torn off a reproof for drunkenness, retaining only the part which
contained good advice. On the strength of this letter, he has ** bor-
rowed," far and wide, " money for a shovel to go to work with next day,"
to an amount sufficient to stock all the honest navvies on an average
length of line. He is an athletic, gigantic man, possessed of great readi-
ness of speech.

310 THE WELCOME HOME

under him and knew him best, describe him as a
chivah-ous soldier, a dignified commander, a steadfast
friend, a generous and forgiving foe — in a word, the
Bayard of the camp, " Sans peur et sans reproche."

My record is of the warm heart and open hand
that, amidst all the cares of his high station, and his
own extensive schemes of benevolence, could yet lend
aid to these distant and humble labours of ours.
No sooner had he heard of the plan of inducing
the men of the first detachment of the Army Works
Corps to lay by a portion of their wages, than he
sent over a hundred pounds to make a temporary
loan-fund for the rest. A portion of this, when re-
paid, was to be expended upon any cases of peculiar
distress amongst the sick, the widows, and the
orphans; whilst the remainder was to be added to
the large contribution he had akeady sent for the
relief of wounded Crimean soldiers.

A few words of his own w411 reveal the spring of
this world-wide benevolence. They are quoted from
a letter written by him on his way to Oude, when, at
the earnest entreaty of the Governor-General, he had
undertaken to restore that province to order; urgently
tliough his failing health demanded a return to Eng-
land for a season: —

" The texts you have chosen, as prayers for the
year, are most applicable to myself; for, indeed^ I
need to have my iniquities blotted out; to have a

THE WELCOME HOME. 311

clean heart and a renewed spirit. I want, also, both
thankfulness and trust. Above all, I want the Holy
Ghost, and more faith in Jesus. And I want to lay
aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily
beset me, and to run with patience the race which is
set before me, looking unto Jesus, the Author and
Finisher of my faith.

" Most gladly do I share your prayer for the year
and for life; and much, very much, do I need your
own and your dear and honoured father's prayers ;
and especially at this time, when I have a new and
arduous field before me — a Sebastopol of civil life —
an Augean stable of strife and contention to cleanse ;
and, I trust, a reign of tranquillity and good-will to
substitute.

" I go," he adds, in the trae spirit of an English-
man, " simply and entirely because it is ray duty to
go. The province of Oude contains the homes of a
hundred thousand of our native soldiers, and much of
the future morale of the Bengal army may depend
upon the government of that province. I go thither
as a peace-maker. And as I succeeded in the Pun-
jab, I feel sure that, with the blessing of God, I shall
succeed there."

" Blessed are the peace-makers, for they shall be
called the children of GOD."

Of such was Henry LawTcnce, whose bright exam-
ple will long animate the earnest and the brave. Shall

312 THE WELCOME HOME.

-we speak of the fame he had won, of the hoiioura
which, with prolonged life, would have awaited him?
It is a light thing that he stood before kings on earthy
for now he has seen " The King in His beauty," and
realised another promise, "Blessed are the Pure in
heart, for they shall see GoD."

CHAPTER XX.

"Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with % merrf
heart. He hath given me rest by His gorrow, and life by His deafch."

ay THX

"Whilst the new line of railway was in process of
making through the East of Kent, a few gentlemen
residing in its locality felt desirous of promoting the
spiritual benefit of the men Avho came from different
quarters of the country to work there. Mr Munn of
Throwley House, near Feversham, was one of the most
zealous promoters of the plan of employing a Scrip-
ture reader, besides himself giving, in conjunction
with other gentlemen amongst both clergy and laity,
several lectures upon scientific and improving topics,
blended with religious instruction. He wrote to re-
quest us to recommend to him a Scripture reader, who
thoroughly knew navvy life and character, besides
being well qualified for so holy a calling. It occurred
to us to mention one of our first friends amongst the
navvies, known to us from the early Crystal Pal ace days,
of whose steadfast course we had continued to hear from
time to time with thankful joy. When Mr Munn had
heard of his character and qualifications, he requested
me to write to this young man and offer the situation.
His reply was to the effect that, " after taking three

316 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART.

days prayerfully to consider the proposal, he thought
it his duty to decline it, as there must be so many
men," he said, " better qualified than he for such an
office. But that as the providence of God seemed to
call him, by this offer, to labour for souls in that
neighbourhood, he would throw up his work near
Liverpool, and go across the country to the East Kent
line, in order to help the Scripture reader gratis, after
the hours of work each day, and between the hours for
Divine service on Sunday."

On reading this letter, Mr Munn commissioned me
to press upon this disinterested young man his first
proposal. Again he delayed until he had taken time
for consulting his God in prayer. And then he went
to his work in a spirit thus described by Mr Munn,
five or six months later : — " Dear William continues
steadily and earnestly working for God. His humble,
cheerful, earnest piety refreshes my own soul each
time I commune w^ith him ; and his simple faith
seems to overcome all difficulties."

Perhaps it was to engage in this blessed work that
he was kept from going to Australia in 1853.

The following letter is chosen from several of equal
interest, because it enters into the details of his mode
of working amongst the men : —

*' Jan. 12th, 1857.

" Dear Madam, — I received your kind letter, &
was very thankful to hear your revered & dear Father

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART. 317

was recovering, & I join you in thanks to God for so
great a blessing, & I prav God, if it shall be His
blessed will, he may be long given you & the people
of Beckenham. I had a beautiful tract from Mr
Munn on Invitation to United Prayer, written by Dr
Marsh, Jan. 1st, 1857, & I pray God it may be a
means of doing much good for the honour & glory of
God & the good of souls. Dear Madam, I beg the
favour of your prayers for the outpouring of the Holy
Spirit upon me, that I may be able to teach accord-
ing to His holy will and word — a skilful workman,
rightly dividing the word of truth — & also that I may
be a means of bringing many to a knowledge of the
truth as it is in Jesus. I thank God for the success
I so far have had — though I have not had any meet-
ings in any house any further than the people that
live & lodge in an house. I generally go to the
houses where there are men lodging at nights, & stay
with them reading & talking to them, & sometimes
make a prayer. I cannot do much in the day time,
as the fore-men do not like the men to be any way
hindered. I manage, however, at dinner-times to get
a few together to read & talk to them — otherwise
than that, it is altogether private, with one & another,
as I can get opportunity ; but I pray God to enable
me to be daily growing in wisdom, that I may be
more fully qualified for the setting forth of His holy
will & wwd. I have been very well received gene-

318 GLADNESS AND SINGLI:NES3 OF HEART.

rally amongst my fellow men. I was very much
pleased this morning, as I was going along the line
one of the men called for me to stop, so I asked what
he wanted — he said, you never come to my lodge at
night. I asked him where & how many lodged with
him — so he told me 4. I promised to go to-morrow
night, as I could not go to-night, & I pray God to
enable me to set forth the goodness & love of God to
them.

" We have had two lectures in the school-room,
& they are to continue for some time weekly. Mr
Munn is to give one next Friday or the Friday after.
So now, dear Lady, I conclude, begging the favour
of your prayers. I do not forget daily to offer up a
prayer for you & your dear Father, and all the people
of Beckenham. from Your ever affectionate Son in.
the Lord, Wm. G ."

The following letter was from a man, whose honest,
friendly countenance we had well remembered, even
amidst the numbers of honest, friendly faces amongst
the men of the Array Works Corps : —

'* Garrison Hospital, Portsea,
Fehy. 28th, 1856.

" Dear Friend, — I take the present opportunity
of addressing A few lines to you, to let you know that

GLADNKJ^S AND SINGLENESS OF HEART. 319

T have been Invalided from the Crimea. But thanks
to my Great Creator. I am recovering very fast. I
have sufFerred A great deal ever since the 20th of
October, but through the mercy of God I have been
able to survive it, But not without having my eyes
opened to the awful state I was living in ; if it had
l)leased God to call me into eternity I knew that I
was a great sinner, and that I had a great deal to
answer for. I prayed my little prayer and read my
little testament, But I have never found that peace
of mind, yet more I pray and more I read the word
of God, and more I am convinced that I am a sinner,
But I have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and through
Him Cometh all good. I shall be able to leave the
Hospital very soon, and I would like you to send one
pound of mine if it will not put you to much trouble, as
I have no money. I have had no pay this 3 months,
and I will get none till I get to London. 1 hope
these few lines will find you enjoying good Health,
and I still remain your humble servant,

" Thomas B— w— r."

Some time after this Thomas came to Beckenham,

slowly regaining health and strength. He could

scarcely speak for the fulness of his heart, when first

he entered the house and was welcomed back. When

I had left the room, he said to L , " She has cured

me of two things, drinking and swearing." After
this, we had further conversation and prayer with

320 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART.

him, and could not doubt that there was a real work
of the grace of Grod going on in his soul.

A Bible and a "Pilgrim's Progress" were given
him at parting ; and shortly after his return home, in
allusion to the latter, he wrote, "I am still going
backwards and forwards between the Slough of
Despond and Giant Despair."

The next letter was written more hopefully: "I
think I am coming up near the Cross, and my burden
is loosening from my shoulders, and will fall into the
Sepulchre of my Saviour. It is not quite gone yet ;
but I am in the way, and you was Evangelist as led
me in at the Wicket Gate."

"Dear Friend, — I think it my Duty to write a few
Lines to you to inform you that I am in good health
and gopd spirits, at Present, thank God. I have got to
work, and I am doing well at present. I am at home
with my mother, and the happiest Days in my Life
is now. I am a total abstainer from all intoxicating
Liquors and Tobacco. When T Look back at the
Life I have Led it makes me tremble to think that I
was ever pei-mitted to Liv^e ; but, O Dear friend, T
have faith in Christ now, and do believe that the Lord
Jesus Christ Died to save me from my sins, and Dear
friend, you have been a messenger sent to snatch me
from the jaws of Death ; if you could only think with
what pleasure I go to the house of God twice every

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEAET. 321

Sunday, you would say that the good work has begun
in my heart ; you would say, Thomas, DoYou believe
that Christ Died to save you from your sins, and I
will say that I am a Christian, and that I am able to
say, Lord, Thou hast opened my lips, and my mouth
shews forth thy praise. Dear friend, I have got the
51st psalm off by heart, and I say it in my prayers
every night and morning, and if you will tell the
navvies to get it oft", and pray it, they will get a great
Deal of good from it. Dear friend, I hope you are all
in good health, and you must accept my heartfelt
thanks for the kind instructions I have received from
you — and Believe me to be yours faithfully,

" Thomas B— w— r."

In the month of August, I wrote to tell him that
we should, God willing, go to Scotland in a short
time, and pass a Railway Station in the north of
England, near which, I believed, he was living. I
mentioned the pleasure it would give us to see him
there, if he were near enough to come without incon-
venience. He responded to this with great joy ; and
carefully omitted to mention that it was a distance of
five and twenty miles from his village home.

On our arrival at the station, there was some hurry
rvA confusion, as it was a junction, and several trains
met. We looked about for Thomas, but failing to
see him, occupied ourselves concerning some lost

X

322 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART.

kiggage, and in parting with a friend who had tra-
velled with us to see the English Lakes ; and then
our train went off. Little did we think that Thomas
w^as watching us all the time ] too unobtrusive to dis-
turb us, although, as he afterwards wrote, " I went
back with tears in my eyes, which would not have
been there if I could have heard you and those good
young ladies speak again, and you had said, Thomas,
live for God, and keep close to Jesus Christ." I need
not say this contretemps, and the simple story of his
disappointment, brought tears into other eyes besides
Thomas's.

We sent him a copy of the large edition of the
Memorials of Captain Yicars, and had a serious
contest as to his accepting a sovereign to cover the
expenses of his journey and loss of time at his work —
a contest which would not have ended in our favom*,
had not a severe illness laid him low, and he then felt
that God had directed a little help to be pressed upon
him, to prevent him from being any burden upon his
aged mother.

" January 12, 1857.

" Dear Friend, — I take up my pen to return my
grateful thanks to you for your kind remembrance of
me, and I trust in God, that these few lines will find
your father much improved in Health. We are all in
good Health here at present, thank God, and I am

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OB HEART. 323

working for a farmer here, for 14s. a week, and
out of that I can save six, and I am happy and con-
tent. Do you think that I ever forget you in my
prayers or Do you think that I ever forget to repeat
the soldier's prayer many a time in the day. No,
Dear Friend, nor do I ever neglect going to hear the
Word of God preached on a Sunday, but I go
amongst my neighbom*s and read them all my tracts
and my beautiful book when I have any spare time.
I have found it to be profitable in the sight of God
and to myself. You were indeed the instrument in
God's hand that wrought the good work in my heart.
T Look back with Disgust when I scarcely had
clothes to Cover myself with, but the truth of the
scripture is verified in me — first seek tlie Kingdom of
God and all its righteousness, and all other things
shall be added. I can say, as St Paul said, there is
But one God and one mediator between God and
men, the man Jesus Christ. I have a lively faith in
Christ that through Him I shall be saved, can you
not see a change in my writing, will you be so kind
as to write back to me and Let me know whether
your Holy father is got better.

" May the Dew of the divine Benediction descend
on all your House, that the wisdom of God may
adorn you with every good and perfect Gift is the
daily prayer of your Humble Friend

" Good Night. T B_w— r."

324 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART.

" Fely. \1th, 1857.

"Dear Friend, — It is with pleasure that I sit Down
to thank you for the Little Book that you sent me,
and above all Do I thank you for that good Book the
memorials of Captain Vicars. You have been so
good and kind to me, that I think it my Duty to
inform you that I am about to get married to a very
pious young woman, on the 28th of this month, if it
please God and health permit. Dear Friend, I never
told you that I got £6 gratuity-money from Sir
Joseph Paxton's office, for being invalided home with
a good character from the Crimea. I do return my
sincere thanks to God and to you : first to God for
making you a instrument to spread his holy scripture
abroad among the working men of England, and to
you Do I return my Gratefid thanks for the friend-
ship you have shewn towards me, for oh you could
not tliink of the pleasure that I felt in receiving that
Little Book of friendship. I make it my rule to re-
peat the soldier's prayer thf* first thing on entering
the Church and on leaving it. The Lord opens my
lips and my mouth shews forth His praise. I trust
in God you are all well as we are at present. Praise
the Lord ; my God to praise, my soul its utmost powers
shall raise. God bless you and keep you in health
and strength long to live. From yours,

" T B— w— R."

" June 22nd, 1857.

"Deae Friend, — I thank God that I am spared to

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART. 325

write a few lines to you. I hope by this time, with
God's Blessing, you are all in the full enjoyment of
health as we are at present. You will think I have
been long in answering your kind letter. Oh if you
but knew the pleasure I have in receiving a letter
from you, you would be sure that I would write on
the first opportunity.

" But you will excuse me. I have been from home

a month. I am coachman to J G , Esq. of

H . I have had this situation 10 weeks. I came

here on Easter Monday. I find it rather tedious, but
with perseverance and God's Blessing I am getting
on very well. I am well situated in my own cottage.
I was married the Last day of February. Who have
1 to thank for this change — God and you — I feel that
Jesus loves me. My faith is strong in Christ. Dear
friend, if the navvies would only be induced to read
all those good Books you gave them they might not
find time to go to the beer-house, for since I saw you
and you shewed me the road to ever-Lasting Life, I
have been prosperous. Dear Friend, I received that
Little Book, and I have read it many a time over
since then ; receive my grateful thanks ; may God be
pleased to restore your blessed Father and your Dear
and Kind Sister to Health is the earnest prayer every
Night and Morning of your humble Friends,

" T and E B— W— B."

326 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART.

Amongst the men who have been working on the
new lines of railway in the neighbourhood of Becken-
ham, there are not a few who have caused us to thank
our God for the change T'- hns wrought in them.

These honest working hioii live just as near our
hearts as our earlier friends, although no record has
been kept of our intercourse together.

Four letters are selected, written by men who left the
neighbourhood in January 1857. The first two are
from a carpenter, employed for a few months about
the Station, &c., at Beckenham, the others are from
a Kailroad man, whose business was chiefly in " plate-
laying" on the lines.

" Jany. 15th, 1857.

" Madam, — I have taken the liberty of writing to
you to tell you how greatly sorry I am that I was
not able to see you again before I left Beckenham,
more especially as I had promised to do so ; the reason
why I did not call was, because I had been promised
another week's work by Mr Chesterton, my foreman,
and he only received orders to discharge me and
several others about half-past three on Satm'day, so
that I had not time to come.

" I beg to offer my most sincere thanks to you and
to Mr Chalmers for the great blessings I derived from
attending your meetings, and, the greatest of all, the
importance of prayer ; it is true I used to pray before,

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART. 327

but they were cold and formal, it was one thing over
and over again ; I trust you liave learnt me a great
lesson, to be earnest in prayer. Mr Hampton, In-
cumbent of St Luke's district, is president of the
Working man's Institute in Barnsbury park, which I
intend to join, where I can go nearly every evening
in the week, and where I shall recei\'e good instruc-
tion, where I hope I shall learn to love my Saviour
and serve him better. It is my earnest wish to know
more of the gospel truths, and of that glorious being
who died on the cross for me. I hope to come to see
you again soon, if I am spared . I should have so liked to
have stopped another week to have heard the lecture on
chemistry, and likewise to have heard Mr Chalmers
finish his story about that good man, Mr William
Tindall ; it always gave me great pleasure in hearing-
Mr Chalmers speak of those great reformers. I have
great pleasure in telling you that part of my most
earnest prayer every night and morning is, that the
Lord will bless you and all your friends, and I am
sure you will not forget me in your prayers. — believe
me to be your most obedient Servant,

" William H ."

" Tuesday, 20th, 1857.

" Dear Lady, — I know not how to express my
thanks to you for such a handsome present as that
beautiful book of Captain Vicars, but \ believe in

328 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART.

returning thanks 1 cannot give you better satisfaction
than a promise that I will often read the book, and,
with God's blessing, will try to live like him ; there is
so much, I think, to encourage the man to become
religious, when he reads Captain Vicars' beautiful
letters, that he cannot help wishing he might be as
good a christian ; my most sincere thanks, kind lady,
for your kind wishes and earnest prayers, for I stand
in need of many prayers, for I am A great sinner ;
how much valuable time have I wasted in sin and
folly! Oh ! I earnestly pray to my blessed Saviour
to give me grace to cast away the works of dark-
ness, and to put on the Armour of Light, and I believe
he will answer my prayers, because he has said, what-
soever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall
receive, and these blessed words give me confidence.
I have joined the working man's Institute, open
every evening, Bible class, Tuesday and Sunday, and
which I intend to join, so I hope, with God's blessing,
to go on and prosper. — Believe me your most grate-
ful and obedient Servant,

" William H ."

* South America, March the 15, 1857.

" Dear Uncle, — I take the pleasure of writing to
you hoping to find }v^u well as it leaves me at this
time, thank God for it. we arrived here on the 5 of
March all safe; but there is not one that come out

GLADNESS AND SINGLEXi-SS OF HEART. 329

but wishes he was back in England again, I know
I do, it is so hot now that we are obliged to carry a
umbrella with you to keep the sun from you ; it seems
very curious to carry a umbrella to work with you to
shade you. I have made a start at work with James

C he knows you ; he says it is curious work here

to work with black men and dont know how to speak
to them in a word, but I shall soon pick some of
theii language up if God spares me to stop here long.
If I live to come back again to see you again I shall
tell you some thing, how glad I are that no more
come with us out here. I will tell you the truth about
what I think about it; I would sooner work in England
for 12 shillings per week than here for 4 times twelve
shillings per week ; it dont suit a Englishman here,
and if it is so hot in the winter time, what will it be in
the summer time. There is plenty of cocoanuts here,
you can see them growing here, the trees run very
high here, the palm trees I mean, plenty of them
here ; you may buy a cocoanut here for aid. with a
pint of milk in them, it is so nice to drink when you
are dry. If this country would suit a Englishman
he could do well here, but a Englishman never feels
well the same as in England; the air seems different
from English air : if I thought that you could stand
the climate you could do well but I am sure it would
not suit you, so dont you come here, stop in England
on a bit of bread rather than come out here to live on

330 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART.

bread and meat. I wish I was back again in Beck-
enham with all my heart, give my love to Evans and
all my brotliers, and send my love to Tom, and
when you write to Tom, give my love to all inquiring
friends at home. Dear uncle, I think I am agoing to
be foreman over a Brickfield after awhile, w^here I
shall have a man to cook for me and to fetch victuals,
a native I mean ; there will be no Englishman with
me at all (but Mr Price, now and then, the master
over the Avork and he is a nice man), but I think I
shall be happy there if I go, there will be no one
there that I can speak to, but 1 know who wdll be
there with me, my Saviour will be there with me,
and He is all I want in this world, this world is no-
thing to what the next world is— that bright world
above; and uncle, if we never meet again on earth, we
shall meet again at that great day when our Saviour
come in the clouds of heaven to Judge the world and
Everything will be brought forward then before the
Angels of God then, and if we never read our
Saviour's word and believe in Plis word we shall be
found wanting then, and then it will be too late, then
seek the Lord while He may be foand, call upon
Him while He is near. Uncle, I will tell you the
tmth about myself; since 1 began to seek the Lord, I
never was so happy in all my life as I am now, thank
God ; and what is this happiness to heaven ! nothing ;
this is only the taste, by the grace of God T mean

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEAET. 331

to go to heaven to be with Jesus for ever ; and if I
never meet again in Earth o may we meet in heaven
there to part no more, the longest time in this world
is but short, give my love to gentlemen who are the
Adult school masters, and tell them I will write to
them by the next mail that go out, but tell them I
often think about them and you as well. And one
more I think of very often, and I should love to hear
her readings again of Sunday and week evenings,
they are all Roman Catholic church here, and if I did
go to a Koman Catholic church I could not under-
stand them, and I could not hold with them. I will
tell you how they go on after service ; they dance, and
the band of music plays, and the shops are open the
same as on another day ; you would think it was a
curious place if you could see them they are like
heathen here. I live in hope of coming back again ;
if God spares me to live to come back to England
once more, I shall never leave no more for South
America. But we are here, and we must put up with
it. They are small horses here to what they are in
England, but they can travel over the ground fast
with a good load upon their backs ; there is hundreds
of horsei comes by here every day wdth their load of
sugar upon their back, some with fruit, and some with
treacle ; the horses will not drink the water without
some of the treacle in it, and it helps them feed, you
cant walk far in a day in this country, for it is s^

332 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART.

sandy and dusly here ; we liad a very nice voyage
from England, it was rather rough, but we came all
safe, thank God. I am your affectionate nephew,

" ^r /'

"South America, September lith, 1857.

" Deak Friend, — I take my pen in hand to write
to you once more while I am in this country, and I
hope it will find you quite well, and your Sister too,
and all at home. I often think about your meetings
on a Monday and Sunday night, and wish I was
there with you and all the others too. I have never
heard a Sermon since I left the ship, but I don't forget
the words you told me, nor never shall forget them
I know — by the grace of God, and the love of our
Saviour Jesus Christ — it is more than words can tell ;
no one don't know till they have found it out by
praying. I can say that I never was so happy in all
my life. I can say it with a clear conscience before
my God and Saviour Jesus Christ. I mean happy
in my mind, and seem all different — no swearing
now, thank God, — no wicked oaths. My life seems
difterent, and it is different too, thank God for it.
Dear friend, I must tell you that I h ive seen some
ups and downs since I have been in this country, but
thank God, He guides me by His counsel, and After-
wards He will receive me to glory, to be with Him
for ever in the bright world above. I often read a

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS 01^ HEART. 333

verse in the testament, in the 5 chapter of Eevelation,
where there is so many thousands of angels ; and I
often read another in the 7 chapter of Revelation,
where there is that great Multitude, which no man
can number, of all nations, people, and kindred-
standing before the thrcne of God — all was in white,
and palms in their hands. I look at it some times,
and my thoughts are more than I can tell. I wish
I could always have them thoughts. Dear Friend, I
go to Dinner, and when I go, and when I come back
again, it makes me think of that world above ; and
when the sun is out on a clear day, it shines so
bright, and it is so hot, you are obliged to wipe your
eyes — it fetches the tears into them. I look round,
and I see hills on one side, and hills on the other,
and it 's beautiful to look at : but what will that be to
Heaven, where we shall shine as the Sun in glory —
not for a few days, not for a few weeks or months or
years, but for ever. It is Delightful to me to think
about it, no one can tell but me and the Lord, which
knows all things. I thank His blessed name for ever
for giving me health and strength while I am in this
countvy, and all the others have been ill with some
thing, but I am well, thank God a thousand times ten
thousand. There is one and another being called
away from us in a few days, our turn may be the
next to go, we don't know, but the Lord's will be
done in Earth as in Heaven. The Lord sends us

334 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART.

warnings to bring us closer to Him. Mr Slaney and
Mr Wilks was well, and dead and buried in less
than a fortnight — and Mr Wilks has left a wife at
home, and 8 children. We may soon be called away
to stand before our God and Saviour — if I never see you
again in this world, I trust we shall meet in heaven
at last ; there we shall sing His praises for ever — and
hear those harps of Gold — and to see those prophets
which foretold of our Saviour ! And we shall see our
Saviour there, and to sit down by his side in heaven,
it is Delightful. I think sometimes that I shall not
know how to contain myself before my Saviour,
because, see what poor creatures we are as soon
as we are ill, we are done for — we have not got
strength of ourselves to help ourselves — but glory be
to God for ever, I know He loves me, and I feel He
loves me, to a inward love which I cannot tell to no
man.

•' Hear Friend, I must tell you a little bit about
my poor mother, she lived a Christian, and died a
Christian ; and now she is with our Saviour in
heaven. When my Mother was ill she sent for me
to tell me things what concern this world, but she
did not forget things of that heavenly world — she
told me things which I never shall forget ; but I have
forgot them — but these words come fresh to my mind
now. Bless God for that last night of the old year,
when you begged of us to give ourselves to Jesua

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART. 335

Christ our Saviour, wlio had a right to us, for see He
had bought us with His own blood. And I did give
myself away to Him, thank God.

" Well I will tell you what my poor mother
said to me the morning before she died, that our
Saviour was with her all the time, and she said
that our Saviour died for her; she believed that
our Saviour died for her when she was well, but
when she was ill she knew He was with Ler, our
blessed Saviour who died for all the world. It was
true, I know, for when I was at home I never knew
her tell me a untruth in my life ; and she was a good
mother, used to love prayer, and so do I too. That
little book which you gave to me is come right, it is
the same as it says, if you begin to speak to God,
He will soon give you plenty to say to Him. I have
prayer in ray bed-room night and morning; I don't
mind who hears me ; I feel when I am praying that
God hears me. There is some of our men which live
with me, they give me a sneer sometimes; but
I love them all the same for that. I pray for them
and for my little brothers which are in England ;
when you see my brothers, give my love to them,
and I hope they go to church regular, and to your
meetings. I should love to go myself. I do think
about you, and most about the time of the meet'ngs ;
the time here is about 2 hours and 20 minutes later
than in England. On a Sunday I read, and then go

336 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART.

in my room, and read and pray, and seems as if
I was in England. Please to write to me as t^oon
as you can, and remember me in your prayers ; at
all times 1 think of you in my prayers, and all of
them which attend your meetings. We shall soon
Ijave a minister up here now, and I shall be glad
when he comes up. I can't go to these churches here
for to hear them, for they are all Roman Catholics
here, so I can't tell you half what I am seen since
I am been here. One day I was doing a small job,
and when I had been at work 2 hours there came a
gang of these poor slaves, and a whipper with them,
with a long whip with him ; they was fencing the
line out with rough wood ; there was 20 or 30 of
them ; most of them was women : I can't abear that.
Well, there came a man along with a kind of a doll
in a basket, and these poor slaves went and kissed
this doll, and them which had a vintem in their
pocket gave it to this man for kissing this doll, and
til en this man would go and spend it in liquor, and
got fresh. Oh ! if I could but have told them to have
made them understand me, but I told them as well
a^ T could, but not so well as I should like to Lave
done, and about Jesus Christ the sinner's Saviour ;
but T left it to the Lord which knows all hearts.
I oftLMi think what a day that will be when all must
appear before our Saviour ^Jesus Christ, and all
things will be brought forward. I must conclude

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART. 337

now, with my love and duty to all at the Rectory,
and receive the same your self from

«Wm. G H,

*' Brazils, South America.*'

From another,

" A^l the 24.

'' Dear Madam, — I take the opportunity of writing
these Few lines to you. I have no doubt but you
thinks it very unkind of me in not writing sooner.
I shall be glad to hear from you, if it is not
troubling you too much. I thank for your invitation
to your tea meeting, I enjoyed it very much indeed.
Dear Madam, I wish to rpeak a word or two by the
help of God's Holy Spirit, of my own experience of
His love. I do feel Jesus to be precious to my soul,
I can say with the Psalmist, in His Favour is life,
His loving kindness is better than life, in His Pre-
sence is fulness of joy, and believe that at His Right
hand there are pleasures For ever more. I do Feel
to be growing in grace, and in the knowledge of our
Lord Jesus Christ. May the Lord pour of His Spirit
upon us more abundantly, that we may live a life of
Faith in the Lord Jesus who loved us and gave Him-
self For us. Please to remember me in your prayers,
and I will remember you, so good bye for the present.
God bless you For Jesus Christ's sake Amen. T am
still your humble servant,

" Thomas N ."

T

338 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART.

The following letters tell their own storj, and mag-
nify the grace of God. Once more the soldier wrote
a few hurried lines, to say he was under orders for
active service. The Regiment sailed for India early
in the month of August 1857 : —

" CuRRAGH Camp, Now. \1th 1856.

" MADAMj-^Pardon me for taking the very great
liberties of writing these few imperfect lines to you
witli heartfelt thankfulness to you for your kind and
pious Instructions that I received from you while I
was at Beckenham, which is about 3 years ago, and T
trust that although I am living amidst sin and wicked-
ness aroundjthey have not been given in vain. Many a
time have I thought of you of a cold winter's night,
when lying before the Enemy in the Crimea, and often
would attempt to Avrite to you but again thought my-
self unworthy of writing to such a kind Lady, & often
did my heart beat with joy when I saw your name in
a small book or tract of any kind, particular in one,
^ The Victory won,' & in the account of the Death of
noble Captn. Vicars of tlie 97th who was killed one
night in a sortie before Sebastopol. I expect to come
home on Furlough shortly, & then perhaps I may
make it my Duty to come to Beckenham & hear once
more the words of Salvation under the roof of the old
parish Church. Madam, it is useless for me to men-
tion my name, as I am a perfect stranger to you, al-

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEAET. 339

thougli I attended your Lectures at the Cottages, but
I hope that one day I shall shine as a star in your
crown for ever in Glory,

" A British Crimean Soldier."

" CuRBAOH Camp, Ireland, July lith 1857.
" Madam, — Please to pardon the very great liber-
ties I take in addressing these i^w lines to you, which
is a thing I am sure you would do if you was aware
of the gratitude I feel I owe to you for what you have
done for me, in being the cause of bringing me to that
knowledge and sense as made me feel that I was a
sinner & stood in need of a Saviour & that unless I
repented I must perish, and blessed be God I have
found a Saviour and I feel him increasingly precious
to my soul, but Dear Madam I may attribute this
great change to no one but you & Dear Captn. Vicars,
for never shall I forget the few months that I spent
in the happy village of Beckenham during the time
that I was at work at the Crystal Palace & in that
neighbourhood in the Summer of 1853. Oh ! the
happy Evenings that I spent in going to the Cottage
or School Room to hear You or blessed Captn. Vicars
(Oh that I may have the grace of God to walk in
his footsteps and die a death like his) proclaim the
word of pardon and Salvation to sinners & to me the
vilest of sinners. I shudder when I think of the sin-
ful state that 1 was living in before & when I first went

340 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART.

to Beckenham, but ever since I have felt tliat I was a
sinner & had a soul to save, and although surrounded
by all kind of sin and temptation I have strived to
live to God & I trust I am walking in the road to
Heaven & can say, let others do as they will, as for
me I will seive the Lord.

" We have a very nice chaplain here, his name is
Hayward, & he is T believe a sincere & devout servant
of God, and all his aim is to win souls for Glory, he
holds a Bible class every Wednesday Evening, &
Divine Service on Friday Evenings & I am never so
happy as when there. Kind Madam, you will I hope
pardon my presumption when I tell you that it was
me who wrote to you a few months ago, but did not
sign my name as I thought you did not know me, I
am well known in Beckenham, I used to lodge at Mr
Milwards, Bricklayers Arms. Pray for me Dear Madam
that I may still press forward for the prize of the high
calling, & at last meet you in eternal Glory. — I am
Madam Your Humble Servant,

'' James S. B .

" P. 8. — Kind Madam, — I went on Furlough &
went to Beckenham with the hopes of seeing you to
declare to you what you had done for my soul ; I went
to Church but I could not see you there, & as I was
a stranger I did not like to take the liberties to go to
the Rectory, as I could not meet you coming From
Church, you might have been there & I not see you,

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OP HEART. 341

I dare say, but you will remember perhaps if I tell you
that my uniform was a white coat & red cap. God
bless you, Madam."

** CuRRAaH Camp, 21st July 1857.

"Dearest Madam, — I am almost at a loss how to
find words to express my gratitude to you for your
very great kindness in condescending to acknowledge
the receipt of my letter. I am happy to say I
received your kind answer to my letter on Saturday
last, & likewise the large memoir of Capt. Vicars,
with that joy that 1 am unable to express.

"Dear Madam, I have read the book once through,
and commenced it again, & oh ! what a blessed
ensample is there therein for a Christian soldier. I
do sincerely hope that I have enlisted under the same
banner that he did, & fought & died a Christian.
Life is one time of continual warfare, as dear Captain
Vicars found it, ^ & so will every Christian,' but by
the grace of God he came off conqueror. Oh ! that
I may do likewise. Dear Madam, the first account
that I read of his death was in a little book while
I was in the Crimea, but little did think then that
he was buried in the same ravine wherein I helped
to bury so many of my poor comrades ; if I had
known ho was buried there beside the Waranzoff
Road, often would I have visited his grave, and shed
a tear of affection over it, and offered up an humble

342 GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART.

prayer. It 's a splendid likeness of his grave in his
memoir. I am reading Taylor's Golden Grove, &
I find it a great help to me in my daily devotion.

'' Dear Madam, last Sabbath-day, for the first time
in my life, I partook of the blessed & holy sacrament,
but, Dear Madam, I did not presume to go to the
table of the Lord trusting in my own righteousness,
but in the manifold and great mercies of my God
and Saviour, bewailing my sins and wickedness
which I have from time to time most grievously
committed by thought, word, and deed, against his
Divine majesty, and I do hope that God answered
my prayers and supplications. Mj wicked heart,
which has ever before been like adamant, was ready
to break with grief when I thought of Him who
suffered and pleaded for me in Gethsemena, & at last
died an ignominious death on the cross, that I might
be saved from damnation. May the body &
blood of Christj whicli was given and shed for you
and me. preserve us body and soul unto life ever-
Listing. Amt' n. — I remain your humble servant,

" James B .

^^ P.8. — Oh! Dear Madam, do pray for mc that
I may not fall back upon the world again, ^for my
flesh is weak, and temptations strong and great,' but
that thro' all the changes and chances of this mortal
life, my heart may ever be fixed on that world above
where true joys are found. And, Dear Madam, it is

GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS OF HEART. 343

impossible for me to describe the value I have set en
the life of dear Capt. Vicars and your letter ; and
it will matter not how heavj my knapsack may feel
to me, my heart will be cheered when I think of two
things that I have in it, and what a companion it
will be to me in the hour of sickness, or stretched
in bed with a wound by an enemy, &, above all
the same faith in Jesus Christ our Saviour will give
me dauntless courage to face death as Captain Vicara
did

it J B V**

CHAPTER XXI.

(Hark t0 U kx ^ali ani mx §xtit\n

' B«ar ye one another's burdens, and bo faitH the law of Christ'

One of the subjects of regret which has occupied my
mind since I have become acquainted with " Life on
the Line," has been the want of sympathy, generally
speaking, between the contractors and the men whom
they employ. The usual manner in which contractors
are spoken of by the men is as " them as don't care
what happens to we, so their work gets done;" or,
less mildly, " All they think of is how much they can
squeeze out of the bones and life of the navvy !" *

Yet these contractors are Englishmen ; and doubt-
less have the genial, generous hearts of their countiy-

* Here and there a noble exception may be found. In this neighbour-
hood, Mr Knight, jun., has not unfrequently spent from ten to twelve
shillings a-week, unsolicited, in providing a meal for men whom he has
employed on other lines, who have walked many a mile from the place
of their last piece of work without a penny in their pockets, and, but
for kindly help such as this, would go starving through a hard day's or
cold night's work. And still there are numbers who do so.

If those who find their good breakfasts ready and warm every morning,
to strengthen them for a day of lighter toil, if not of idleness, would
remember this when they meet hungry men seeking for work, perhaps
kt'i't waiting for it for days, or disappointed altogether, and would give
them a good meal of bread and meat, it would save a vast amount of
distress, and positive injury to healtb.

348 WORK TO DO FOR GOD AND OUR BROTHER.

men, only needing to be rightly touched to rouse them
into active kindness. Here and there, too, one of them
has been a navvy himself at the outset of life, and
must therefore have a fellow-feeling for those who
still toil with the shovel and pick, whereby he has
made his own fortune.

It cannot be that these men in power are so bent
upon gold-getting, as wilfully to sacrifice their fellow-
creatures' health and life, and more precious things
still, to heap up riches a little the faster — striking the
foundations of their lines, and bridges, and tunnels, in
the flesh and blood of their brothers. But,

" Evil is wrought
By want of thought.
As well as want of heart."

The contract has been entered into — engaging for
the railway to be completed by a fixed date. The
common error seems to be, that too short a time is
named, at all events inclusive of allowance for un-
favourable contingencies. At the commencement, but
a few men are employed. By and by some unfore-
seen obstacle impedes progress — more hands are
called for — winter approaches, with its short days.
Now comes the grievance of but half-an-hour allowed
for dinner-time. Every Englishman reckons on a
whole hour as his undeniable right ; were this abridge-
ment of his day's chief comfort universally made by
masters in town and country, it would be enough to

WORK TO DO FOK GOD AND OUR BROTHER. 349

risk a revolution I Several of the navvies are in
the habit of going for dinner to their lodgings, if
within a moderate distance of the line : so that half
the time is occupied in the walk to and fro.

Then follows the night-work, often accompanied
by danger, not unfrequently by serious accidents If
the time is drawing on towards the close of the
contract, the work now becomes extremely severe.
In the winter of 1856, some of the men told me
that they had not had above four nights' rest in
three weeks, working day and night.

Then follows the worst grievance of all. The
Sabbath can be spared to them no longer. The
working man's one day of rest, after six of weary toil,
is taken from him. True, no slave-driver stands over
him with a whip to lash him to the unwelcome task,
but, if he refuse, he is dismissed ; and he may have
a hundred miles or more to walk, without a penny
in his pocket, to find fresh work on another line ;
where, on the next Sabbath, the same thing may
come over again.

Many a man complains bitterly of the loss of his
British birthright — his one day of peace and quiet
in the seven — who has not yet learned the higher value
of the Christian's privilege to spend it in the worship
of his God. But the saddest thing of all is to see
some of them going to work with consciences en-
lightened to feel the sin of it, whilst faith is not yet

350 WORK TO DO FOR GOD AND OUR BROTHER.

strong enough to run the risk of dismissal and its
penalties, by a refusal. Before you and I judge
them, let us try a week's starvation, and a few nights
of sleeping in a ditch under a November fog, or
amidst the snows of January. It goes to one's heart
when navvy boys leave word at the Sunday-school,
^' They can't stay, more 's the pity ; because they 've
got to go to work for the best part of the day. But
they do wish their lady would see to it, and not let it
be so any more ; " making one feel one's utter help-
lessness to move in the matter the more painfully by
their childlike confidence.

If each proprietor of land through whose ground
the railway passes, would not sell it without making
a stipulation that the working-man should have his
seventh day's rest secured, he would bring down a
blessing on both souls and bodies, and would find
that the Lord of the Sabbath would repay him seven-
fold into his own bosom. And if this became an
integral part of railway contracts, the contractors
would bestir themselves at first to secure a larger
jiumber of men, and so ^' take time by the forelock."

Is it right in the sight of God, to let His rational
creatures be driven harder than stage-coach horses
were, in the days before railroads were made, when
it was found not to answer to their owners to deprive
them of God's appointed rest for beast as well as
man?

"WORK TO DO FOli GOD AND OUR BKOTHEE. 3ol

What with Sabbath-work and night-work, I have
Been strong, fine young men aged in a few months,
as if by years of wear and tear. And where are the
old navvies 1 Are they to be found in villages or
workhouses ? Some few may be ; but I have never
yet seen or heard of them in either place. Here and
there I find one on the line ; but the vast majority,
I believe, die in what ought to be their prime.
There was a grey-haired man in Beckenham, who
was honoured by the sobriquet of " Old Edward."
yVe believed him to be at least on the shady side
of sixty. On inquiry, to our astonishment, we found
he was but eight-and- thirty. He had seen a quartei
of a century pass by him on the line.

Another boon wliich humanity seems to demand
for these poor men, is the construction of a shed close
to their work, in which they could sit down to eat
their dinner when the rain has soaked the ground
into a bog. In my daily visits to the men at their
dinner-time, whilst gladdened to see them run up the
side of the *^ cutting" at sight of a iriend, like bees
swarming up a hive, often does my heart ache to
have no pla-i^- to offer them to rest their tired limbs
upon, as they seat themselves in rows, three deep,
of twenty or thirty in a line, in grass almost as wet
as a pond; and when concern is expressed, the usual
reply is, " Well, if it 's good enow for you to stand
in, it 's good enow for we to sit in, and better than

352 WOBK TO DO FOR GOD AND OUR BROTHER.

the mud in the cutting, anyhow. But a bit of a
shed over our heads for when it 's a pouring of rain
would save many a poor fellow from catching of the
rheumatiS; whilst he^s a sitting still."

That "shed" is our vision of comfort, our chateau
en Espagne; and I hope we shall have it, in reality,
before another winter sets in.

And here I may just mention that the navvies
never seem to be disturbed by these dinner-time
visits, or to eat their meal less heartily ; on the con-
trary, polite inquiries are made, if the plan has been
interrupted for a few days, '' S'pose you've been to
the gangs at the other end of the line, ma'am, as we
haven't seen you here for a bit ? "

Indian news, in a digest of the Times; now and then
one of those noble and beautiful, yet heart-wringing
letters which have glorified those annals of horror, as
the faith of their writers hallowed even scenes of
bloodshed and torture ; or a fine, thrilling passage
from some leading article — make the usual commence-
ment of conversation at each daily rendezvous. This
is always concluded by some passage from the Word
of God — most frequently a parable, and usually it is
repeated, not read, to sustain attention and interest
at an hour of the day when anything like a service
would seem ill-timed.

In this manner many can be reached who lodge
too far away to attend cottage-readings, excepting

WORK TO DO FOR GOD AND OUR BROTHER. 353

now and then on a fine Sunday night. The intelli-
gent and sympathising interest they have expressed,
both by word and look, in the present terrible history
of British India, would have amply repaid, for the
effort to impart it to them, any man or woman in
England.*

In a word, what I now plead for, with those who
are called, and not without reason, "the privileged
classes" of this country, is : — When navvies, or
any other labourers either in fields or factories, are
within your reach, meet them with a frank and genial
friendliness. Alleviate their discomforts as far as lies
in your power. Provide some little innocent pleasure
— a tea-party, for instance — from time to time, for
their hard- worked existence. Above all, seek to secure
to them their Sabbaths ; and hold forth to them the
Word of Life. Give them Bibles or Testaments ; and
if the navvy's name be written therein, with a few

* Whilst these pages were in the press^ an unexpected result of those
readings was communicated to me. An oflEicer in the Royal Artillery
mentioned that a desei-ter from his company, who had been working as
a navvy on the new line of railway h( re, delivered himself up towards
the end of the month of October ''to suflfer," as he requested, "any
punishment short and sharp enough not to hinder him from going with
the next draft to India, to fight for all them women and children that
he had heard readings about in Beckenham."

His request was granted. He has sailed for India. But was it neces-
sary, to preserve the discipline of the army, that such a man should carry
for ever into the iront of his foes the branded "B" upon that generoui
brengtt

2

354 WORK TO DO FOR GOD AND OUR BROTHER.

words of friendly dedication, he will starve rather
than part with it at any price.

If the hearts of my countrymen and countrywomen
have warmed towards their working-brothers, whilst
reading these brief records of a few years' intercourse
with them, let not the generous fire die out with the
close of the book. If individual efforts, so light and
easy, have resulted, by the blessing of God, in so much
that is cheering and hopeful, what might not be ef-
fected if the educated and refined class of this country
determined, in dependence upon Divine help, to draw
out the higher and nobler feelings of the less favoured
classes ; setting themselves gently, patiently, stead-
fastly to work, to eradicate the notions of distrust,
suspicion, and envy, too generally entertained by the
poor towards the rich j until both should practically
realise the sentiment well and wisely expressed by a
gifted writer of the present day, ^^ O ye rich, respect
the poor. 0 ye poor, have charity for the rich."

Above aU, O favoured ones, who have the know-
ledge of the glad tidings of the redemption of the
world by our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, bringing
glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good
will towards men, God forbid that you should shut up
in your own hearts this message of life and peace, in-
stead of giving it in its fulness to every fellow-crea-
trire within your reach. If you have hut once heard
of it for yourselves, you are bound to bid others wel-

WORK TO DO FOR GOD AND OUR BROTHER. 355

come to drink of the river of the water of life. " Let
him that heareth sajj Come."

If you have long ago learned to love the gospel oi
Jesus Christ, but the fervour of that first love has
fled, speak to others of your half-forgotten Saviour,
and you shall find that there is a life-giving power
in the name of Jesus to restore vitality to your own
chilled soul.

A traveller was crossing moraitain heights alone,
over almost untrodden snows. Warning had been
given him that if slumber pressed do-vvn his weary eye-
lids, they would inevitably be sealed in death. For
a time he went bravely along his dreary path. But
with the deepening shade and freezing blast of night,
there fell a weight upon his brain and eyes which
seemed to be irresistible. In vain he tried to rea-
son with himself; in vain he strained his utmost
energies to shake off that fatal heaviness. At this
crisis of his fate, his foot struck against a heap that
lay across his path. No stone was that ; although
no stone could be colder or more lifeless. He stooped
to touch it, and found a human body half buried
beneath a fresh drift of snow. The next moment
the traveller had taken a brother in his arms, and
was chafing his chest, and hands, and brow ; breathing
upon the stiff cold lips the warm breath of his living
soul ; pressing the silent heart to the beating pulses
of his own generous bosom. The effort to save

356 WORK TO DO FOR GOD AND OUR BROTHER.

another had brought back to himself life, warmth,
and energy. He was a man again; instead of a
weak creature succumbing to a despairing helpless-
ness, dropping down in a dreamless sleep, to die.

He saved his brother, and was saved himself.

" Go thou," in the strength of the Lord and Giver
of Life, " and do likewise."

[TTIIVBRSITT]

THE END.

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UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY