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E^^  A  Book  for  every  Protestant.  =^ 
HISTOEY 


FRENCH  PROTESTANT  REFUGEES, 

FEOSr  THE   EEYOCATION   OF   THE   EDICT   OF   NANTES  TO 
THE   PRESENT   DAT. 

BY    CHARLES    WEISS, 

Professor  of  History  in  the  Bonaparte  Ljcsum,  Paris. 

Translated  from  the  Frencli  by  Henry  William  Herbekt,  Esq. 
Wilh  an  Appendix,  from  tae  pen  cf  an  eminent  American  Historian  and 
Statesman,  gi%-ing'  a  full  and  complete  History  of  the  French  Protestant 
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tory ;  the  characteristics  of  their  descendants,  their  influence  upon  the 
formation  of  our  present  national  institutions,  their  names,  localities, 
histories,  &c.,  &c.  Illustrated  with  an  accurate  portrait  on  steel  of  the 
cruel  and  intolerant  Pope  Pius  V.,  and  a  fac  simile  of  the  memorable 
medal  struck  by  that  celebrated  Pontiff,  Greg-ory  XHL,  in  honor  of  the 
participants  in  the  frightful  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew. 

Two  Vols.  12mo.,  Assorted  Cloth. 
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EXTRACTS   FROM   BLACKWOOD's   MAGAZINE. 

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Mr.  Weiss  has  devoted  many  years  of  labor  and  research  to  the  produc- 
tion of  these  two  volumes.      This  work  is  not  of  an  ephemeral 

class.  It  is  a  valuable  addition  to  the  political  and  religious  history  of  an 
important  period,  and  as  such  it  will  be  prized  by  future  historians. 
Originally  undertaken  at  the  instigation  of  the  most  distinguished  of 
living  French  Protestants,  Francois  Guizot,  and  followed,  in  its  progress, 
through  many  years  of  laboi-,  vsrith  unceasing  interest,  by  the  brilliant 
historian  Mignet,  its  author  had  also  the  benefit  of  the  counsels  and  en- 
couragement of  other  eminent  members  of  the  French  academy.  The 
book  addresses  itself  not  only  to  the  historical  student,  but  to  all  persons 
of  cultivated  mind  who  take  an  interest  in  the  progress  and  development 
of  the  human  intellect  and  of  TRUE  Chiistianity — and  to  Protestants  it  is 
particularly  attractive.  It  will  be  eagerly  read  and  discussed,  not  only 
in  France  and  Germany,  but  in  this  country  and  the  United  States,  and 
will  become  a  favorite  companion  to  D'Aubigne's  History  of  the  Re- 
formation."' 

To  be  had  of  all  Booksellers,  and  of 

STRINGEE  &  TOWNSEND,  Publishers, 

222  Broadway  (under  tlie  Museum),  N.  Y. 


i^°A  Book  for  the  Christian's  Fireside...®! 

SACRED  STREAMS  ; 

OR,  THE 

ANCIENT  AND   MODERN  HISTORY 


THE    RIVEES    OF    THE    BIBLE. 

EDITED  BY  GEO,  B.  CHEEVER,  D.D. 
Einbellislied  witli  Fifty  Elegant  Illustrations. 

The  subject  of  the  vohjme  is  a  beautiful  and  fruitful  theme.  The 
Sacred  Rivers  are  like  celestial  lines  whereby  the  reader  may  trace 
story  and  poetry,  and  count  many  divine  lessons,  not  as  orient  pearls 
at  random  strung,  but  having  a  great  historic  life  and  unity  of  meaning. 
The  author  has  selected  his  sacred  localities,  and  interwoven  his  de- 
scriptions with  a  pleasinff  and  natural  mixture  of  devout  reflection, 
which  is  at  once  profitable  to  the  student  and  grateful  to  the  feelings 
of  the  Christian. 


LIST   OP   SOME  OF   THE   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


24.  Sugar  Canes  and  Poppies  on  '.lie  River 

Ulai. 
'Jo.  Coins  of  Persia, 

26.  Ancient  Gem. 

27.  Source  of  tlie  Jordan. 

28.  The  Mandrake. 
29-  Lotus  Lilies  on  the  river  Jordan. 

30.  Apple  of  Sodom. 

31.  Fords  of  Jordan  (Place  of  Baptism), 

32.  Mount  Tabor. 

33.  Freshwater  Tortoise. 

34.  The  Egyptian  Buffalo. 

35.  Oaks  of  Bashan,  on  the  river  Jarmuk. 

36.  Wild  Boars  in  the  Forests  of  Gilead, 

37.  The  River  Arnon. 
33.  The  Gazelles  of  Palestine. 

39.  The  Brook  of  Kidron, 

40.  The  Pomegranate. 

41.  The  Wahar,  or  Cony,  of  Palestine, 

42.  The  Pool  of  Siloam, 

43.  The  River  Kishon. 

44.  Grapes  of  Palestiae. 

45.  The  River  Nile, 
I    46.  Vignette. 

This  elegant  work  is  put  at  a  price  which  places  it  within  reach  of 
every  one. 

Price,  in  Clotli* $1  00. 

"        Gilt  Gdges  and  Gilt  Sides 135, 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  and  by 

STRINGER  &  TOWNSEiro,  PublisTiers, 

222  Broadway  (under  tlie  Museum),  N.  Y. 


Frontispiece. 

Oriental  Vegetation. 

The  River  Euphrates, 

Bricks  from  Babylon. 

Birs  Nimroud. 

A  Mesopotamian  Valley. 

The  Persiaii  Cyclame*. 

Oriental  Cattle. 

Women  at  the  Well. 

Eagle-Headed  Idol, 

The  Sacred  Vessels. 

The  Taltine:  of  Babylon  by  Cyrus. 

Environs  of  Ancient  Babylon. 

The  Town  of  Bir,  on  the  Euphrates. 

The  Town  of  Hillah. 

The  Jerboa. 

The  Tigris  at  Mosul. 

Lion  Hunting. 

Assyrian  Horses. 

Jonah's  Gourd. 

Chariot  of  Nineveh. 

Flamingos  of  the  River  Chebar. 

An  Assyrian  S'ege, 


^'£:ARLY  READY, 

MARGARET- 

OR. 

PEEJUDICK  AT  HOME  ASD  ITS  VICTfflS 

Formino-  "\"oI    VT  nf  <^    k^  n-  , 
Tales,  embracing    he  btt  bo^.k^n^i.^^r'^*'*^'^  ^'b^'^'-J  of  Mo 
^pular  series  consists  of-        ^'  ^^  *^"  ^''^  =^"thors.     This  ve 

.oaabJe  io.b]es/^-X.  y.  E^^g^fi^fuHi  ^"o»kIh  a.,d  saiucary  satire  upon  fa 
"«■     THE  ARTIST-WIFE       Rv  M  „        »<^^>^^e.vs. 

-^ixK/Sf .="  -  ™-  S,f 5S, ...  „„  ,.„., 

■sai  -Broadway,  New  Yor 


ANCl 

TH] 

E; 

The  subj 
Sacred  Ri\ 
story  and  p 
at  random  i 
The  author 
scriptions  v 
which  is  at 
of  the  Chri 


1.  Front!:- 

2.  Orient: 

3.  The  Ri 

4.  Bricks 

5.  BirsNi 

6.  A  Meso 

7.  The  Pel 

8.  Orienta 

9.  Women 

10.  Eagle-H  '' 

1 1.  The  Sac 

12.  The  Tal 

13.  Environ 

14.  The  Tom 
1.3.  TlieTov 

16.  The  Jerb 

17.  The  Tigr 

15.  Lion  Hu 

19.  Assyrian 

20.  Jonah's  ( 

21.  Chariot  c 
92.  Flamingc 
23.  An  Assyr 


This  elegan 
every  one. 
Price,  i 

For  sale  b 


THE 


OLD    BREWERY, 


AND    THE 


NEAT  MISSION  HOUSE 


AT 


THE  PIYE  POINTS. 


All  speech  and  rumor  is  short  lived,  foolish,  untrue. 
Genuine  ■work;  alone,  what  thou  workest  faithfully  is  eternal. 
Stand  thou  by  that,  and  let  Fame  and  the  rest  of  it  go  prating;. 


NEW  YORK: 
STRINGER  &  TOWNSEND, 

222    BROADWAY    (under    THE    MUSEUM). 
1854. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  i*  the  year  1S54,  by 

STEIXGEK  &  TOWNSEND, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  United  States  District  Court  for  the  Southern 

District  of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


A  CLERGYirAX,  full  of  worldly  wisdom,  or  philosophy 
falsely  so  called,  asked  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who  had 
resided  some  years  in  India,  whether  he  thought  it  likely  that 
the  preaching  of  the  gospel  to  the  natives  of  that  country 
could  do  them  any  material  good.  "  That,  sir,"  replied  the 
old  soldier,  "  is  none  of  your  business.  How  reads  your 
commission  ?     Go  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature." 

The  clergyman  had  been  making  his  calculations  aside 
from  the  great  commission.  He  had  been  estimating  the 
probabilities  of  success  upon  philosophical  principles ;  and 
he  found  that  according  to  the  general  experience,  in  relation 
to  cause  and  effect,  the  gospel  was  not  adequate  to  the  con- 
version of  the  natives  of  India.  But  he  had  lost  sight  of 
the  gospel  commission,  and  of  Him  who  gave  it.  He  forgot 
that  it  was  written,  "  not  by  might  nor  by  power"  in  the 
Messengers,  is  the  gospel  to  accomplish  its  design,  "  but  by 
my  spirit  saith  the  Lord."  He  who  ordained  his  gospel  to 
be  the  means  of  deliverance  from  the  guilt,  power  and  conse- 
quences of  sin,  whatever  be  the  condition  of  the  sinner,  ac- 
companies it  with  a  power  unknown  to  human  philosophy, 
and  makes  it  adequate  to  the  end  he  has  proposed.  Of  this 
truth,  the  success  which  has  already  crowned  the  efibrts  of 
the  Mission  at  the  Five  Points,  adds  one  more  to  the  many 
glorious  demonstrations  which  are  found  in  the  history  of  the 
Church. 


Vi  PREFACE. 

Mucli  as  tlie  world  is  indebted  to  the  learned  labors  of  the 
great  and  good,  who  have  defended  revealed  religion  against 
the  assaults  of  infidelity,  it  still  remains  for  Christianity  to 
make  its  way  to  the  hearts  of  men  by  an  appeal  to  individual 
consciousness — to  show  its  adaptation  to  the  universal  want, 
and  earnest  cravings  of  human  nature ;  and  the  most  irre- 
sistible evidence  of  this  is  its  effects,  wherever  it  is  received 
in  the  love  of  it ;  even  upon  those  who  have  strayed  farthest 
from  God  and  holiness.  Every  human  being  seeks  happi- 
ness. It  is  not  a  matter  of  calculation  or  choice,  but  an 
instinct  of  his  nature.  Many  err  as  to  the  means,  but  all 
have  the  end  in  view.  Now  all  human  experience,  as  well 
as  sound  reasoning,  testifies  that  no  earthly  possession  or 
enjoyment  confers  abiding  happiness — that  riches,  honors, 
power,  and  sensual  gratifications  are  unsatisfying  even  in 
the  possession,  and  are  moreover  uncertain  in  their  continu- 
ance. They  do  not  confer  peace  and  tranquility  of  mind ; 
but  harrass  the  possessor  with  care  and  anxiety.  And  then 
the  fear  of  death  is  so  terrible  that  men  are  compelled  to 
drive  it  from  their  minds  by  immersing  themselves  in  worldly 
business,  pursuits  and  pleasures.  It  is  not  right  to  say  that 
they  find  no  real  enjoyment  in  these  things.  AU  we  say  is, 
that  whatever  of  pleasure  they  afford  is  temporary,  and 
always  leaves  behind  it  either  the  sting  of  guilt,  or  a  sense 
of  mental  weariness  and  exhaustion.  The  spirit's  cravings 
are  not  met,  and  the  soul  still  cries,  "I  know  not  what  I 
want,  but  I  feel  that  I  am  wretched."    But, 


-  G  rant  to  life,  and  just  it  is  to  grant 


To  lucky  life,  some  perquisites  of  joy. 
A  time  tliere  comes,  when,  like  a  thrice  told  tale, 
Long  rifled  life  of  sweet  can  yield  no  more 
But  by  our  comments  on  the  comedy: 
Pleasing  reflections  on  parts  well  sustain'd, 
Or  purposed  emendationa  where  we  failed." 


PREFACE.  vii 

Alas!  who  can  derive  pleasure  from  reflections  on  the  come- 
dy of  a  life,  where  all  has  been  devoted  to  objects,  foreign, 
if  not  hostile,  to  the  interests  of  the  immortal  being  within 
him  : — that  which  will  survive  the  body  ;  and  to  secure  tlie 
eternal  welfare  of  which  his  probation  on  earth  was  as- 
signed ? 

To  meet  this  essential,  instructive,  universal  desire  of  hap- 
piness— this  earnest  craving  of  the  soul,  the  Holy  Scriptures 
present  to  us  a  God  who  is  essentially  "Love,"  who  has 
manifested  his  love  to  man,  in  providing  for  him  a  sure  way 
to  happiness — solid,  abiding  happiness.  A  happiness  not  de- 
pendent upon  any  outward  thing,  or  any  physical  condition 
of  life ;  but  the  same  to  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  exalted 
and  the  lowly ;  the  man  rejoicing  in  health,  and  the  son  of 
affliction.  We  must  suppose  a  time  in  eternity  when  God 
existed  alone.  When  there  were  neither  angels  nor  men  to 
proclaim  his  glory.  But  he  was  then,  as  he  is  now,  tho 
holy,  happy  God ;  needing  not  the  worship  of  Angels  or 
men  to  add  to  his  happiness.  If  then  he  put  forth  his  cre- 
ating energy,  and  made  Angels  and  men,  it  was  the  effect  of 
his  love.  He  proposed  to  impart  to  them,  some  portion  of 
his  own  happiness,  by  imparting  to  them,  some  portion  of 
his  own  holiness.  Hence  it  is  that  holiness  and  happiness 
have  been  from  the  beginning  inseparably  united.  God  is 
love,  and  loves  the  whole  family  of  man  better  than  any 
earthly  parent  loves  his  children.  He,  therefore,  who 
dwelleth  in  love,  dwelleth  in  God,  for  God  is  love. 

Nor  is  love,  as  it  constitutes  an  essential  attribute  of 
God,  a  mere  feeling,  or  emotion,  or  sentiment.  It  is  bene- 
ficence going  forth  throughout  creation  in  acts  of  benevo- 
lence and  goodness.  If,  then,  any  are  unhappy,  it  is  be- 
cause, that  in  the  exercise  of  their  freeagency  they  resist  his 
will,  and  perversely  insist  upon  seeking  happiness  where  it  is 


Vm  PREFACE. 

not  to  be  found.  God  is,  nevertheless,  Love ;  and  not  only 
is  lie  governed  by  love  in  his  administration  and  providence  ; 
but  he  has  made  every  religious  and  moral  duty  -which  his 
law  requires,  to  consist  in  its  exercise.  Love  is  the  fulfilling 
of  the  law.  And  the  requirements  made  of  man  in  the 
Gospel  are  summed  up  by  our  Lord  in  the  love  of  God,  and 
our  neighbor ;  not  in  the  sentiment,  or  emotion,  but  in  the 
actual  working  of  it.  "  This  is  the  love  of  God,  that  we 
keep  his  commandments."  "  Let  us  not  love  in  word,  nor  in 
tongue,  but  in  deed,  and  in  truth."  "He,  that  hath 
my  commandments  and  keepeth  them,  he  it  is,  that  loveth 
me." 

But  the  population  at  the  Five  Points  ;  the  utterly  aban- 
doned, profligate  refuse  of  humanity  in  those  dens  of  iniquity 
at  the  Five  Points,  did  the  pious  Ladies,  who  instituted  a 
mission  among  them,  believe  that  God  still  loved  such  as 
these  ?  Yes  ;  nothing  else  could  have  induced  them  to  en- 
ter upon  their  mission  of  mercy  but  this  conviction  ;  and  it 
was  a  conviction  founded  on  the  whole  history  of  redemp- 
tion. We  read,  "  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  son,  that  whosoever  believeth  on  him  should 
not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life."  Now,  what  was  the 
condition  of  the  world,  when  this  unspeakably,  glorious  man- 
ifestation of  love  was  made  to  mankind.  The  whole  world 
— all  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  except  in  the  little  terri- 
tory of  Judea,  had  renounced  the  authority  of  the  true  God^ 
did  not  retain  Him  in  their  thoughts  ;  but  had  made  to 
themselves  gods  of  silver,  of  gold,  of  wood,  and  of  stone , 
and  some  worshipped  four-footed  beasts  and  creeping  things. 
And  as  to  their  moral  conduct,  what  a  horrible  description 
does  the  Apostle  give  of  it  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Eomans. 
And,  as  to  the  exception  to  this  general  defection,  the  in- 
habitants of  Judea,  though  they  acknowledged  the  true  God 


PREFACE.  IX 

in  their  service,  they  drew  nigli  to  liim  with  their  lips,  while 
their  hearts  were  far  from  him.  "  They  made  void  the  law 
of  God  through  their  traditions,  teaching  for  doctrines  the 
commandments  of  men."  Yet,  this  was  the  vrorld  into 
which  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father,  full  of  truth  and 
grace,  came  on  his  errand  of  mercy.  For  such  a  world  as 
this,  he  offered  himself  as  a  lamb  without  spot,  unto  God, 
that  he  might  redeem  those  who  were  otherwise  without 
hope.  Did  not  this  sacrifice  for  sin,  include  all  classes  of 
sinners,  even  such  as  those  at  the  Five  Points.  Yerily 
whosoever  believeth  on  Him,  shall  not  perish. 

Let  us  look  a  moment  at  this  manifestation  of  divine  love 
And,  to  do  so,  let  us  imagine  ourselves  in  Jerusalem,  just 
prior  to  the  advent.     The  Jews  expected  the  Messiah  about 
this  time.     The  prophecies  concerning  him,  pointed  unmista/- 
kably  to  this  age  of  the  w^rld  as  the  time  of  his  co  m  ing.    We 
should  iave  inquired  who  is  this  Messiah ;  and  should  have 
been  answered,  "A  Messenger  from  Heaven."  Who  would  not 
have  been  alarmed  at  this  announcement  ?    Ever  since  the 
fall,  man   has    been    afraid  to  hear  from  heaven ;  and  we 
should  have  remembered,  too,  that  for  the  wickedness  of  the 
world,  God  did  afore-time  sweep  it  with  a  flood  ;  only  eight 
of  the  human  family  being  spared.    And,  what  now  is  the 
state  of  the  world  ?    Are  not  its  inhabitants  in  open  rebellion 
against  their  rightful  sovereign  ?      What  then,  will  be  the 
Message  from  Heaven?    What  new  species  of  punishment 
does  God  design  for  a  race  which  neither  mercy  nor  judge- 
ment hath  reclaimed?    But  hark!     Some  Shepherds  have 
arrived,  who  declare,  that  as  they  watched  their  flocks  by 
night,  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  came  upon  them,  and  the  glory 
of  the  Lord  shone  round  about  them ;  and  they  were  sore 
afraid.    And  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  said  unto  them,  fear 
not,  for,  behold,  I  bring  you  good  tidings  of  great  joy, 


X  PREFACE. 

which  shall  be  unto  all  people ;  for  unto  you,  is  born  this  day, 
in  the  City  of  David,  a  Saviour,  which  is  Christ,  the  Lord. 
It  is  a  Saviour  then,  not  a  messenger  of  vengeance  "who  has 
come  from  heaven,  and  straightway  we  join  the  song  of  the 
multitude  of  the  heavenly  host  who  were  with  the  Angel, 
"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest,  and  on  earth,  peace ;  good 
will  toward  men." 

This,  then,  is  the  great  secret  of  success  in  Christian  Mis- 
sionary effort.  God  is  love  :  loves  all  the  creatures  he  hath 
made.  "  All  are  concluded  under  sin,  for  that,  all  have 
sinned."  They  are  guilty ;  he  offers  pardon  ;  they  are  pol- 
luted ;  he  has  provided  the  means  of  purification  ;  their 
moral  powers  are  weak ;  he  has  provided  supernatural  aid  : 
' — ^he  giveth  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him  ;  strength- 
ening with  all  might  and  power  in  the  inner  man.  He  is 
love,  and  his  mercy  extends  to  all.  It  sweeps  close  down  to 
the  gates  of  hell,  saving  all  who  consent  to  be  saved. 

The  following  pages  will  show  that  the  success  which  has 
crowned  the  efforts  of  the  Five  Points'  Mission  has  been  pro- 
duced by  a  conviction  of  the  foregoing  truths,  and  a  practi- 
cal application  of  them  in  the  means  used  for  the  reforma- 
tion of  the  vicious  population  of  that  district.  The  love  of 
God  is  not  an  emotion,  or  feeling  only,  but  active  beneficence  ; 
and  so  is  this  love,  when  "  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  given  unto  us."  It  follows  the  example  of  our 
Lord,  "  seeking  and  saving  them  who  are  lost."  The  Ladies 
of  the  Mission  convinced  those  to  whom  they  Ministered  that 
they  were  still  the  objects  of  their  Heavenly  Father's  love  ; 
and  that  he  had  put  it  into  their  hearts  to  love  them,  and  do 
them  good.  This  effectually  opened  a  door  to  the  Mission. 
They  entered  their  filthy,  dark,  and  dreary  hovels,  and,  under 
their  active  beneficence,  such  places  became  comfortable 
abodes.    Especially  were  the  sick  cared  for,  and  attended. 


PREFACE.  Xi 

Bodily  comforts  were  supplied,  and  prayer  and  exhortations 
followed.  The  children  were  fed  and  clothed.  A  chapel 
and  a  Missionary  Minister  were  provided.  A  day  and  a 
Sabbath  school  were  opened.  The  hardest  hearts  were  melt- 
ed under  such  manifestations  of  love.  The  schools  were  fill- 
ed with  children  ;  and  the  chapels  with  the  adult  popula- 
tion. The  thrihing  incidents  recorded  in  this  little  book,  ex- 
hibit cases  of  reformation  which  no  human  philosophy  can 
explain  or  account  for.  And  they  are  not  fictitious  stories  ; 
but  facts,  the  truth  of  which  hundreds  are  ready  to  attest — 
all  going  to  prove  that  the  Gospel  is  still  as  in  the  begin- 
ning, '•'  the  power  of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that 
believeth." 

"We  have  only  to  add,  that  whatever  profits  may  arise  from 
the  sale  of  this  book  will  be  applied  to  the  support  of  the 
Ladies'  Mission  at  the  "  Five  Points."  TVe  hope  the  sale  will 
be  extensive  and  rapid ;  not  only  for  the  sake  of  the  Mis- 
sion, but  because  we  think  it  cannot  be  read  without  edifi- 
cation. 


CONTEIfTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGE 

NOW  AXD  THEN J.  M.  0.  15 

CHAPTER  n. 

THE  FIVE  POINTS I.  M.  31, 

CHAPTER  ni. 

THE  OLD  BREWEEY I.  M.  44 

CHAPTER  lY. 

LIGHT  SHIXIN-G  IX  DAEKXESS I.  3J.  64 

CHAPTER  Y. 

THE  MISSION  -WORK I.  M.  76 

THE  NEW  MISSIOX  HOUSE J.  M.  0.  80 

CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  REFORMED  INEBRIATE I.  M.  94 

TEIUMPHAXT  DEATH I.  M.  1G3 

CHAPTER  YH. 

SEED  SOWN  IX  THE  MOEXIXG J.  M,  O.  108 

THE  RESCUED  FAMILY C.  E.  D.  116 

CHAPTER  YHI. 

MARY  D C.  E.  D.  125 

THE  DYING  MOTHER C.  E.  D.  130 

THE  DYIXG  mother's  LEGACY I.  M.  135 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  TWENTY-SHILLIXG  PIECE C.  R.  D.  141 

THE  WITHERED  AEM C.  E.  D.  147 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  CHILDREN  OP  THE  FIVE  POINTS I.  M.  152 

THE  DYING  GIRL I.  M.  156 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XI.  PAGE 

WILD  MAGGIE J.  M.  O.  162 

THE  CHILDREN  THAT  SWEEP  THE  CROSSINGS.     .       J.  M  O.  167 

LITTLE  ELLIE J.  JI.  O.  170 

SHADOWS J.  M.  O.  1  71 

GLEAMS  OP  LIGHT J.  M.  O.  173 

CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  ASTOR  HOUSE  BEGGAR C.  R.  D.  177 

MAGGIE  RYAN C.  R.  D.  182 

THE  TIDY  BEGGAR H.  S.  191 

CHAPTER  XHI. 
jSketches  from  a  Missionary''s  Hfota-'book.    B.  M.  A. 

THE  DEAD  CHILD 195 

THE  DEAD  CHILD  IN  LEONARD  STREET 197 

A  WOMAN  IN  COW  BAY 198 

THE  IRISH  WAKE 202 

CHAPTER  XIY. 

THE  ONE  INFIRMITY  CONQUERED J.  M.  0.  204 

NIGHT  SCENES  IN  THE  OLD  BREWERY.      .       .      .     J.  M.  O.  214 

CHAPTER  XT. 

THE  MAYNOOTH  PRIEST I.  M.  223 

THE  RICH  POOR  MAN C.  E.  D.  239 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  LAST  OP  THE  BLENNERHASSETTS.        ...         I.  M.  246 

THE  LITTLE  ITALIAN  BOY H.  S.  263 

MORAL  INFLUENCES I.  M.  267 

PIC-NIC  OP  THE  FIVE  POINTS'  MISSION  SUNDAY  SCHOOL. 

:               I.  M.  268 

THANKSGIVING  SUPPER  AT  THE  FIVE  POINTS,  IN  1852  AND 

1853 277 

CHAPTER  XVn. 

A  VISIT  TO  THE  CRYSTAL  PALACE I.  M.  290 

CONCLUSION I.  M,  300 


THE  OLD    BREWERY, 


AST)    THE 


M¥  MISSION  HOUSE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

NOW      AXD      THEN. 

Before  presenting  a  picture  of  the  Five  Points  in 
the  days  of  its  "  bad  pre-eminence,"  it  may  not  be  un- 
interesting to  look  at  it  ninety  years  since,  as  we  find  it  in 
an  old  map*  of  the  city  of  New  York,  as  surveyed  in  1*766, 
and  1767.  On  this  map,  dedicated  to  "  Sir  Henry  Moore, 
Captaia  General  and  Governor  in  and  over  his  Majesty's 
Province  of  New  York,"  we  see  Fresh  "Water  Pond  on 
this  spot.  Broadway  then  terminated  at  Duane  street, 
and  the  Hospital  was  in  the  country.  Orange  street 
ran  on  the  margin  of  the  pond  which  prevented 
Queen,  now  Pearl  street,  from  pursuing  its  present 
course.     From  this  pond  which  extended  towards  Canal 

*  Now  in  Uie  possession  of  The  New  York  Society  Library. 


16  KO"W    A^'D    THEX. 

street,  flowed  a  creek  vrhicli  ran  tliroiigli  Lispenard'a 
meadows.  Most  suggestive  of  the  repose  tliat  reigned 
liere  is  the  law  passed  ia  1733,  to  preserve  the  fish  in 
Fresh  Water  Pond.  The  first  records  of  human  his- 
tory, in  this  place  are  stained  with  blood,  and  the  suc- 
cessive scenes  of  life  here,  have  not  been  out  of  keep- 
ing with  the  opening  tragedy.  In  lY'il,  when  there 
were  in  I^ew  York  but  twelve  thousand  inhabitants,  of 
whom  one  sixth  were  slaves,  the  celebrated  "negro 
plot"  occurred,  and  a  great  panic  was  created  bj  fre- 
quent fires  and  robberies.  Of  the  17-i  persons  who 
were  committed  to  prison,  thirteen  negroes  were  burned 
at  the  stake,  at  the  intersection  of  Pearl  and  Chatham 
streets,  and  twenty  were  hung  (one  in  chains)  on  an 
island  in  Fresh  "Water  Pond.  Only  the  poorest  class 
of  houses  were  built  on  the  low,  marshy  grounds  in 
this  vicinity,  already  claimed  by  poverty  and  crime. 

When  Broadway  was  continued  and  opened  through 
Thomas  Randall's  property,  (called  the  Sailors  Snug  Har- 
bor,) to  meet  the  Bowery,  the  hills  were  levelled  and 
carted  into  Fresh  Pond  till,  it  became  dry  land.  But 
as  again  in  1842,  we  see  this  place  through  the  eyes  of 
an  observant  foreigner,  it  would  seem  to  cry  aloud,  for 
its  ancient  waters  to  cleanse  it  from  the  pollution  and 
degradation  ot  man's  presence. 


I 


N  O  \V     A  JS"  I)     'I  H  E  N  .  17 

"  Let  us  go  on  again,"  says  Mr.  Dickens,  in  his  walks 
about  New  York,  *  "  and  plunge  into  the  Pive  Points. 
But  it  is  needful  first,  that  we  take  as  our  escort  these 
two  heads  of  the  police,  whom  you  would  know  for 
sharp  and  well-trained  officers,  if  you  met  them  in  the 
Great  Desert.  So  true  it  is  that  certain  pursuits, 
wherever  carried  on  will  stamp  men  with  the  same 
character.  These  two  might  have  been  born  and  bred 
in  Bow  street. 

This  is  the  place :  these  narrow  ways  diverging  to 
the  right  and  left,  and  reeking  every  where  with  dirt 
and  filth.  Such  lives  as  are  led  here,  bear  the  same 
fruit  here  as  elsewhere.  The  coarse  and  bloated  faces 
at  the  doors  have  counterparts  at  home  and  all  the  wide 
world  over.  Debauchery  has  made  the  very  houses 
prematurely  old.  See  how  the  rotten  beams  are  tumb- 
ling down,  and  how  the  patched  and  broken  windows 
seem  to  scowl  dimly,  like  eyes  that  have  been  hurt  in 
drunken  frays.  Many  of  these  pigs  live  here.  Do  they 
ever  wonder  why  their  masters  walk  upright  in  lieu  of 
going  on  all-fours  ?  and  why  they  talk  instead  of  grunting  ? 

So  far,  nearly  every  house  is  a  low  tavern,  and  on  the 
bar-room  walls  are  colored  prints  of  Washington  and 
Queen  Victoria,  and  the  American  Eagle.     Among  the 
*  "  Amierican  Notes." 


18  NOWANDTHEN. 

pigeon  holes  that  hold  the  bottles,  are  pieces  of  plate 
glass  and  colored  paper,  for  there  is  in  some  sort  a 
taste  for  decoration  even  here.  And  as  seamen  fre- 
quent these  haunts,  there  are  maritime  pictures  by  the 
dozen  :  of  partings  between  sailors  and  their  lady-loves ; 
portraits  of  William  of  the  ballad  and  his  black  eyed 
Susan ;  of  Will  Watch,  the  bold  smuggler ;  of  Paul 
Jones  the  pirate,  and  the  like :  on  which  the  painted 
eyes  of  Queen  Victoria,  and  of  Washington  to  boot,  rest 
in  as  strange  companionship  as  on  most  of  the 
scenes  that  are  enacted  in  their  wondering  pres- 
ence. 

What  place  is  this,  to  which  the  squalid  square  con- 
ducts us  ?  A  kind  of  square  of  leprous  houses,  some  of 
which  are  attainable  only  by  crazy  wooden  stairs  with- 
out. What  lies  beyond  this  tottering  flight  of  steps 
that  creak  beneath  our  tread?  A  miserable  room 
lighted  by  one  dim  candle,  and  destitute  of  all  comfort, 
save  that  which  may  be  hidden  in  a  wretched  bed. 
Beside  it  sits  a  man  ;  his  elbows  on  his  knees  :  his  fore- 
head hidden  in  his  hands.  "  What  ails  that  man  ?" 
asks  the  foremost  officer  ;  '  Fever,'  he  sullenly  replies, 
without  looking  up.  Conceive  the  fancies  of  a  fevered 
brain  in  such  a  place  as  this  ! 

Ascend  these  pitch-dark   stairs,  heedful   of  a   false 


KOW     AND     THEN.  19 

footing  oil  the  trembling  boards,  and  grope  your  way 
with  me  into  this  wolfish  den,  where  neither  ray  of 
light,  nor  breath  of  air,  appears  to  come.  A  negro  lad, 
startled  from  his  sleep  by  the  officer's  ^'oice — he  knows 
it  well — but  comforted  by  his  assurance  that  he  has 
not  come  on  business,  officiously  bestirs  himself  to 
light  a  candle.  The  match  flickers  for  a  moment, 
and  shows  great  mounds  of  dusky  rags  upon  the 
ground,  then  dies  away  and  leaves  a  denser  darkness 
than  before,  if  there  can  be  degrees  in  such  extremes. 
He  stumbles  down  the  stairs,  and  presently  comes  back 
shading  a  flaring  taper  with  his  hand.  Then  the  mounds 
of  rags  are  seen  to  be  astir,  and  rise  slowly  up,  and  the 
floor  is  covered  with  heaps  of  negro  women,  wakino- 
from  their  sleep  :  their  white  teeth  chattering,  and  their 
bright  eyes  glistening  and  winking  on  all  sides  with 
surprise  and  fear,  like  the  countless  repetition  of  one 
astonished  African  face  in  some  strange  mirror. 

Mount  up  these  other  stairs,  with  no  less  caution 
(there  are  traps  and  pitfalls  here  for  those  who  are  not  so 
well  escorted  as  ourselves,)  into  the  housetop  ;  where 
the  bare  beams  and  rafters  meet  overhead,  and  calm 
night  looks  down  through  the  crevices  in  the  roof. 
Open  the  door  of  one  of  these  cramped  hutches  full  of 
sleeping  negroes.    Bah !     They  have   a  charcoal    fire 


^20  NOW    AND    THEN. 

within,  there  is  a  smell  of  singeing  clothes  or  flesh,  so 
close  they  gather  round  the  brazier ;  and  vapors  issue 
forth  that  blind  and  suffocate.  From  every  corner,  as 
you  glance  about  you  in  these  dark  streets,  some  figure 
crawls  half-awakened,  as  if  the  judgment  hour  were 
near  at  hand,  and  every  obscure  grave  were  giving  up  its 
dead.  Where  dogs  would  howl  to  lie,  women,  men 
and  boys  slink  off  to  sleep,  forcing  the  dislodged  rats 
to  move  away  in  quest  of  better  lodgings. 

Here  too  are  lanes  and  alleys  paved  with  mud 
knee-deep ;  under-ground  chambers  where  they  dance 
and  game  ;  the  walls  bedecked  with  rough  designs,  of 
ships,  and  forts,  and  flags,  and  American  Eagles  out  of 
number ;  ruined  houses,  open  to  the  street,  whence 
through  wide  gaps  in  the  walls,  other  ruins  loom 
upon  the  eye,  as  though  the  world  of  vice  and  misery 
had  nothing  else  to  show ;  hideous  tenements  which 
take  their  name  from  robbery  and  murder :  all  that  is 
loathsome,  drooping  and  decayed  is  here  !" 

Thus  as  delineated  by  a  careful  observer  whose  quick 
eye  noted  the  details  that  make  the  tout  ensemble  of 
horrors,  is  this  spot  brought  before  us.  Was  there  no 
remedy  for  all  this  sin  and  wo  1  No  "  lever"  to 
"  stay  the  growing  avalanche  of  sin  ?"  apparently  there 
was  none.  Six  years  from  the  time  of  Pickens'  visit  pass- 


NOW     AND     THEN.  21 

ed  In  the  old  miserable  way,  without  the  putting  forth  of 
Christian  effort.  No  sanitary  influences  reached  this  spot 
steeped  in  vice  and  wretchedness.  The  graphic  picture  of 
Dickens  was  still  true  to  the  life.  We  would  faithfully 
chronicle  however  one  improvement,  and  the  only  one 
as  far  as  we  know  to  which  those  years  will  testify, — 
those  dark  years  of  crime,  whose  secret  history  will  only 
be  known  in  that  day  when  the  hidden  things  of  dark- 
ness shall  be  revealed.  The  improvement  was  an  out- 
ward one.  It  was  the  purchase  by  the  Corporation, 
(the  property  holders  being  taxed  for  half  the  amount) 
of  a  small  triangular  space  intended  for  a  park,  which  is 
now  literally  a  green  spot  in  this  "  wilderness  of  brick 
and  mortar."  An  opening  was  thus  made  for  more  light 
and  air,  a  movement  heraldino^  the  liojht  of  truth  that 
was  soon  to  penetrate  the  darkness.  In  1848,  the  regards 
of  some  Christian  women  were  attracted  to  this  place 
accompanied  with  an  earnest  desire  to  test  the  power 
of  Christianity  to  give  life  even  here.  They  were  told 
by  gentlemen  whom  they  requested  to  survey  the 
ground,  that  no  suitable  room  could  be  procured,  but 
they  expressed  their  determination  to  send  a  missionary 
there,  which  they  did  in  1850. 

Their  modes  of  working  and  some  of  the  results  of 
their  efforts  are  detailed  in  the  following  pages,  and  we 


22  NOW     AND     THEN. 

may  be  permitted  to  express  our  gratification  at  finding 
that  they  had  unwittingly  followed  "  the  model  or 
normal  specimen  of  the  process,"  by  which  West  Port 
— the  Five  Points  of  Edinburgh,  was  redeemed.  As  Dr. 
Chalmers  may  be  considered  the  highest  authority  on 
a  subject  to  which  he  devoted  his  best  thoughts  and 
energies  we  may  be  pardoned  for  quoting  from  his  life, 
by  Dr.  Hanna,  a  history  so  similar  to  that  of  our  own 
mission  that  we  may  appeal  to  the  issues  of  his  great 
experiment  with  confidence  and  hope,  and  feel  ourselves 
justified  in  our  plans  by  the  example  of  a  great  and 
good  man  who  looked  upon  the  completion  of  this  ex- 
periment as  the  most  joyful  event  of  his  life. 

"It  was  true  that  in  each  locality  he  desired  to 
see  a  church  erected,  which  must  be  connected  with 
some  Christian  communion.  It  was  equally  true,  that 
in  that  particular  locality  which  he  might  himself 
select,  the  church  so  raised  would  come  naturally  to  be 
connected  with  the  Free  Church ;  but  with  some  hope 
of  his  motives  being  understood  and  appreciated  among 
his  former  opponents — the  Voluntaries — he  could  in- 
dignantly repudiate  all  sectarian  aims  and  in  the  ferver 
of  intense  excitement  could  exclaim — '"Who  cares  about 
the  Free  Church,  compared  with  the  Christian  good  of 
the  people  of  Scotland  V     Who  cares  about  any  churc\ 


,  NOW     AXD     THEN.  23 

lut  as  an  instrument  of  Christian  good  ?  for  bo  assured 
that  the  moral  and  religious  well-being  of  the  popula- 
tion is  of  infinitely  higher  importance  than  the  advance- 
ment of  any  sect !" 

The  locality  selected  by  Dr.  Chalmers  as  the  scene 
of  his  projected  enterprise  was  the  West  Port ;  a  part 
of  Edinburgh,  to  which  a  few  years  previously  an 
infamous  notoriety  had  been  attached  by  those  secret 
murders,  the  discovery  of  which  sent  a  thrill  of  horror 
through  the  land.  .  .  ,  Out  of  a  population  of  2000 
three-fourths  were  lost  to  all  the  habits  and  all  the  de- 
cencies of  Christian  life.  In  these  families  the  number 
of  children  capable  of  attending  school  was  only  411, 
and  of  these  290  were  growing  up  altogether  untaught. 
The  physical  and  moral  condition  of  this  community  was 
deplorable ;  one-fourth  were  paupers  on  the  poor  roll, 

and  one-fourth  were  street  beggars  thieves,  &c 

It  was  a  somewhat  formidable  enterprise — to  many  it 
would  have  seemed  altogether  hopeless — to  come  into 
close  quarters  with  such  a  population.  Aided,  however, 
by  a  band  of  zealous  associates.  Dr.  Chalmers  went 
hopefully  forward.  The  West  Port  was  divided  into 
twenty  districts,  containing  each  about  twenty  families. 
Over  each  of  these  districts  a  visitor  was  appointed, 
whose  duty  i    was  to  visit  once  each  week  all  the 


24  NOW     AND     THEN. 

families  committed  to  Ms  care  ;  by  all  such  attentions 
and  services  as  lie  could  offer  to  win  their  good  will — 
by  reading  tbe  Scriptures,  by  distributing  tracts,  by 
entering  into  conversation  and  by  engaging  in  prayer — 
to  promote,  as  fit  openings  were  given  bim,  their  spirit- 
ual welfare.  A  printed  slip  drawn  up  by  Dr.  Chalmers 
was  to  be  left  in  every  house  by  each  visitor  explaining 
the  object  of  his  present  and  future  calls. 

A  school-room  was  at  last  obtained.  It  lay  at  the 
end  of  the  very  close  down  which  Burke  and  his  as- 
sociates decoyed  their  unconscious  victims.  Fronting 
the  den  in  which  those  horrid  murders  were  committed, 
stood  an  old  deserted  tannery,  whose  upper  store-loft, 
approached  from  without  by  a  flight  of  projecting 
wooden  stairs,  was  selected  as  affording  the  best  ac- 
commodation which  the  neighborhood  could  supply. 
Low-roofed  and  roughly  floored,  its  raw,  unplastered 
waUs  pierced  at  irregular  intervals  with  windows  of 
unshapely  form,  it  had  little  of  the  scholastic  or  the 
ecclesiastical  in  its  aspect ;  but  never  was  the  true  work 
of  school  and  church  done  better  than  an  that  old 
tannery  loft  of  the  West  Port.  Dr.  Chalmers  invited 
all  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighborhood  to  meet  him 
there  on  Wednesday,  the  6th  of  November.  By  this 
time  the  frequent  calls  of  the  visitors  had  awakened  a 


NOW    AND    THEN.  26 

general  curiosity,  and  the  invitation  was  accepted,  the 
loft  presenting  a  larger  assembly  of  what  he  called 
"genuine  "West  "Porters"  than  had  met  together  for 
many  years.  Acting  upon  the  saying  of  Talleyrand, 
which  he  so  often  quoted,  "That  there  .is  nothing 
formidable  in  meeting  with  the  very  lowest  of  the 
people  if  you  only  treat  them  frankly,"  Dr.  Chalmers 
told  them  all  that  he  and  his  friends  meant  to  do  for 
them,  and  all  that  he  expected  that  they  would  do  for 
themselves. 

The  school  was  opened  with  sixty-four  day  scholars 
and  fifty-seven  evening  scholars,  on  the  11th  I^ovember, 
1844;  and  in  the  course  of  a  single  year,  no  fewer 
than  250' were  in  attendance,  and  those  chiefly  from 
the  West  Port.  The  educational  part  of  the  process 
having  been  fairly  set  a-going,  the  higher  and  more 
diflScult  operation  was  commenced,  of  bringing  the 
adult  population  under  regular  spiritual  instruction. 
On  the  forenoon  of  Sabbath  the  2 2d  December,  Dr. 
Chalmers  opened  the  tan-loft  for  public  worship.  We 
were  present  on  the  evening  of  that  day,  when  the  city 
missionary  oflBciated,  and  when  we  looked  round  and 
saw  that  the  whole  fruit  of  the  ad^dces,  and  requests, 
and  entreaties  which  for  many  previous  weeks  had  been 
brought  to  bear  upon  all  the  famihes  by  the  visitors, 


26  NOW     AND    THEN. 

was  the  presence  of  about  a  dozen  adults,  and  those 
mostly  old  women,  we  confess  to  strong  misgivings  as 
to  the  result.  But  the  services  were  regularly  con- 
tinued thrice  each  Sabbath,  and  the  private  agencies 
were  renewed.  In  April,  1845,  Dr.  Chalmers  was  so 
peculiarly  fortunate  as  to  secure  the  services  of  the  Key. 
Mr.  Tasker — the  attendance  grew  under  his  ministry, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  year  the  nucleus  of  a  good  con- 
gregation began  already  to  apj)ear.  The  scheme,  how- 
ever, was  obviously  working  at  disadvantage  so  long  as 
an  apartment  so  difficult  of  access,  and  so  rudely  fitted 
up,  formed  at  once  the  school-room  and  the  church. 
Ground,  therefore,  was  purchased,  and  all  other  needful 
steps  were  taken  for  the  erection  within  the  West  Port 
of  a  church  and  a  school-room. 

The  liberality  of  many  Christian  friends  supplied  Dr. 
Chalmers  with  funds  sufficient  not  only  to  build  a 
church  and  school-room,  but  to  purchase  and  fit  up  a 
tenement  of  houses  for  working-men,  in  which,  at  a 
low  rent,  additional  means  of  cleanliness  and  comfort 
were  enjoyed. — On  Fi-iday,  the  19th  February,  1847, 
the  West  Port  church  was  opened  for  pubhc  worship, 
by  Dr.  Chalmers,  and  on  the  25th  of  April,  he  pre- 
sided at  the  first  sacrament  administered  within  its 
walla.     On  the  following  Monday,  he  said  to  Mr.  Tas- 


NOWANDTUEN.  27 

ker — "  I  have  got  now  the  desire  of  my  heart.  The 
church  is  finished,  the  schools  are  flourishing ;  our  eccle- 
siastical machinery  is  about  complete,  and  all  in  good 
working  order.  God  has  indeed  heard  my  prayer,  and 
I  could  now  lay  down  my  head  in  peace  and  die." 

"  Scarcely  more  than  two  years  had  elapsed,  yet  how 
great  was  the  transformation  !  When  the  work  began, 
the  number  attending  all  places  of  worship  did  not  ex- 
ceed one-eighth  of  the  whole  population  of  the  West 
Port.  In  the  new  church  300  sittings  were  taken  as  soon 
as  it  was  opened;  and  of  the  132  communicants,  100 
were  from  the  West  Port.  When  the  work  began,  of 
those  capable  of  education,  three-fourths  were  not  at 
school :  already  the  ratio  had  been  reversed,  and  three 
fourths  were  in  regular  attendance.  The  change  was  be- 
ginning to  show  itself  even  in  the  outward  appearance 
of  the  district — in  the  increased  cleanliness  and  tidiness 
of  the  children,  in  quieter  Saturday  nights,  and  more 
orderly  Sabbaths. 

"  It  was  but  the  dawning  which  he  (Dr.  Chalmers) 
was  permitted  to  behold.  A  few  weeks  after  that  first 
commuion  in  the  West  Port,  he  was  removed  to  the 
communion  of  the  heavens,  and  the  work  was  left  in 
other  hands.  There  were  some  who  thought  that  hia 
removal  would  be  fatal  to  ita  success ;  and  that  it  was 


28  NOW    AKD     THEN. 

only  by  sucli  impulse  as  lie  could  give,  that  sucli  an 
enterprise  could  be  sustained.  But  five  years  bave 
passed  since  be  was  at  its  bead  ;  and,  under  the  admir- 
able management  of  Mr.  Taslier,  eacb  year  bas  wit- 
nessed an  advancing  progress.  In  its  educational 
department,  tbe  work  is  complete.  In  the  different 
scbools,  male  and  female,  day  and  evening,  betvs'een 
400  and  500  children  are  in  attendance ;  nor  is  it 
known  that  there  is  a  single  child  of  a  family  resident 
within  the  West  Port  who  is  not  at  school.  Tbe  eccle- 
siastical department  presents  us  with  a  no  less  gratifying 
result.  The  habit  of  church  attendance,  has  become 
as  general  and  regular  within  the  West  Port  as  it  is  in 
the  best  conditioned  districts  of  Edinburgh.  The 
church  is  filled  to  overflowing,  and,  while  these  pages 
are  passing  through  the  press,  the  people  of  the  West 
Port,  who  among  themselves,  contributed  no  less  than 
£100  to  the  building  of  their  church  at  first,  are  con- 
tributing, at  an  equal  rate  of  liberality,  for  the  erec- 
tion of  a  gallery.  It  (the  West  Port  enterprise)  stand.s 
the  only  instance,  in  which  the  depths  of  city  igno- 
rance have  been  sounded  to  the  very  bottom,  nor  can 
the  possibility  of  cleansing  the  foul  basement  story  of 
our  social  edifice  be  doubted  any  longer." 

We  will  close  this  interesting  account  so  applicable 


NOW     AND     THE2^.  29 

to  our  owa  work,  by  an  extract  from  Dr.  Chalmers' 
sermon,  on  the  opening  of  the  West  Port  Chapel — aa 
confirmatory  of  our  own  views,  the  wisdom  and  expe- 
diency of  wliich  have  been  questioned.  After  dwelling 
upon  the  advantage|  of  local  conveniency  to  attract  to 
the  house  of  God,  Dr.  Chalmers  says,  "But  local  con- 
veniency will  not  detain  the  attendance  of  multitudes, 
unless  there  b^  a  worth  and  a  power  in  the  services 
which  are  rendered  there.  To  fill  the  church  well,  we 
must  fill  the  pulpit  well,  and  see  that  the  articles  of  the 
peace-speaking  blood,  and  the  sanctifying  Spirit  are  the 
topics,  that  be  dearest  to  the  audience  and  on  which  the 
Christian  orator  who  addresses  them,  most  loves  to  ex- 
patiate. These  form  the  only  enduring  staple  of  good 
vigorous  preaching."  After  speaking  of  the  moral 
ascendancy  given  by  the  pastoral  relationship  he  says, 
"  It  is  utterly  a  wrong  imagination  and  in  the  face  both 
of  experience  and  prophecy,  that  in  towns,  there  is  an 
impracticable  barrier  against  the  capability  and  tri- 
umphs of  the  gospel — that  in  towns,  the  cause  of  hu- 
man amelioration  must  be  abandoned  in  despair — ■ 
that  in  towns,  it  is  not  by  the  architecture  of  chapels, 
but  of  prisons,  and  of  barracks,  and  of  bridewells,  we 
are  alone  to  seek  for  the  protection  of  society — that 
elsewhere  a  moralizing  charm  may  go  forth  among  the 


30  vow    AJTT)    TH"EK. 

people  from  village  schools  and  sabbath  services,  but 
that  there  is  a  hardihood  and  ferocity  in  towns,  which 
must  be  dealt  with  in  another  way,  and  against  which 
all  the  artillery  of  the  pulpit  is  feeble  as  infancy." 

And  may  we  not  in  the  use  of  the  same  means  look 
for  the  same  blessed  results  that  cheered  the  laborers 
at  West  Port  ?  Yea,  have  not  our  eyes  seen  "  genuine''' 
Five  Pointers  "walking  erect  in  newness  of  life?" 
are  there  not  a  number  even  now  thriving  to  lead 
sober,  righteous,  godly  lives  ?  Can  we  not  visit  them 
in  their  cheerful,  pleasant  rooms  in  the  Mission  house, 
and  j5nd  them  with  busy  hands  "  plying  their  daily 
task,"  while  their  children  are  attending  the  Mission 
school  ?  Do  we  not  see  a  gradual  improvement  in  the 
appearance  and  behavior  of  the  children  of  the  school, 
and  whenever  we  enter  the  infant  class-room  with  its 
sixty  children,  are  they  not  uniformly  quiet,  cheerful 
and  obedient? — the  dull,  heavy  look  of  neglected 
childhood  fading  away  before  the  coming  ray  of  intel- 
ligence in  their  young  faces.  Our  well  attended  evening 
meetings,  drawing  out  many  who  blush  in  their  deep 
poverty  to  meet  the  light  of  day — and  the  large  and 
attentive  congregations  assembled  in  the  chapel  for  the 
Sabbath  services — the  quietness  and  order  reigning  in 
the   formerly    tumultuous   streets — all   these   are   not 


THE     FIVE     POINTS.  31 

merely  omens  of  good,  but  they  are  indications  that 
God's  blessing  has  already  accompanied  this  truth. 
For  we  would  express  our  firm  conviction  that  while 
other  instrumentahties  may  be  good  in  their  place,  the 
religious  element  must  be  our  main  dependence  in  any 
comprehensive  plans  for  the  reformation  of  the  de- 
graded poor.  "Without  this,  relief  may  be  afforded  for 
a  dav,  but  the  seat  of  all  the  evil  remains  untouched. 
"  It  is  not  always  the  dark  place  that  hinders,  but 
sometimes  the  dim  eye" — and  any  efforts  unaccompa- 
nied with  the  inspiring  motives  of  Christianity  must 
fail  in  accomplishing  permanent  results. 


CHAPTER  n. 

THE     FIVE    POINTS. 

"  Life  hath  i*^  contrasts,  its  realities, 
Which  make  humanity  itself  aghast! 

A  STRAXGER,  taljjjng  his  position  in  Broadway,  near 
ths  City  Hospital,  would  find  himself  at  one  of  the 
central  points  of  the  wealth,  the  fashion,  and  the  com- 
merce of  the  largest  and  most  influential  city  of  the 


32  TJTE   FIVE    POINTb". 

Union.  The  Hospital,  of  massive  stone,  surrounded 
hj  fine  trees  and  spacious  grassplots,  wliicli  present  a 
beautiful  oasis  amid  the  desert  of  brick  and  sand  that 
encompasses  its  outer  railing,  tells  loudly  that  active 
benevolence  has  here  its  sphere,  and  Christian  charity 
its  appropriate  work.  Elegant  stores,  crowded  with 
merchandise  of  the  most  costly  description ;  carts 
bending  beneath  the  pressure  of  valuable  loads ;  hand- 
some carriages,  containing  fair  occupants,  whose  rich 
attire  bespeaks  an  utter  disregard  of  the  value  of 
money ;  well-dressed  hundreds,  crowding  the  innumer- 
able omnibusses,  or  passing  with  rapid  steps  through 
this  great  thoroughfare  of  fashion  and  of  business ; 
everything  betokens  progress,  wealth,  and  happiness. 


"Bill  there  is  just  behind  a  drearier  scene; 

The  peopled  haunts  another  aspect  wear; 

Midst  wealth  an  I  splendor,  wasted  forms  are  seen, 

Yictims  of  ceasele-s  toil,  and  wa.t,  and  care ; 

Ard  there  the  sterner  nature  ihat  will  dare 

To  live,  ihqu>;h  l.fe  be  boa  :ht  with  infamy  ; 

There  guilt's  bold  emissaries  spread  th  'At  snare, 

"Who  law,  or  human  or  divine,  defy^ 

And  live  but  to  perpetuate  crime  and  misery." 


One  minute's  walk  from  that  Broadway-point  of 
wealth,  commerce,  and  enjoy men^*will  place  him  iu 
another  world  of  vision,  thought,  and  feeling.  Passing 
down  Anthony-street  but  two  squares,  a  scene  will  be 


THE     FIVE     POINTS.  33 

presented,  forming  so  entire  a  contrast  to  that  lie  has 
just  left,  that  imagination  would  never  have  pictured, 
nor  can  language  in  its  utmost  strength  successfully 
portray  it.  Standing  a-t  the  lower  end  of  xinthony- 
street,  a  large  area,  covering  about  an  acre,  will  open 
before  him.  Into  this,  jBve  streets,  viz.,  Little-Water, 
Cross,  Anthony,  Orange,  and  Mulberry,  enter,  as 
rivers  emptying  themselves  into  a  bay.  In  the  center 
of  this  area  is  a  small  triangular  space,  known  as 
"Paradise-square,"  surrounded  by  a  wooden  paling 
generally  disfigured  by  old  garments  hung  upon  it  to 
dry.  Opposite  this  little  park  stands,  or  rather  stood, 
the  "  Old  Brewery,"  so  famed  in  song  and  story. 
Miserable-looking  buildings,  liquor-stores  innumerable, 
neglected  children  by  scores,  playing  in  rags  and  dirt, 
squalid-looking  women,  brutal  men  with  black  eyes 
and  disfigured  faces,  proclaiming  drunken  brawls  and 
fearful  \*iolence,  complete  the  general  picture. 

Gaze  on  it  mentally,  fair  reader,  and  realize,  if  you 
can,  while  sauntering  down  Broadway,  rejoicing  in  all 
the  refinements  and  luxuries  of  life,  that  one  minute's 
walk  would  place  you  in  a  scene  like  this.  Gaze  on  it, 
men  of  thought,  when  treading  the  steps  of  the  City 
Hall  or  the  Hall  of  Justice,  where  laws  are  framed,  and 
our  citv's  interests  discussed  and  cared  for — one  min- 


34  THE     FIVE     POINTS. 

ute's  walk  would  place  you  in  this  central  point  of 
misery  and  sin.     Gaze  on  it,  ye  men  of  business  and 
of  wealth,  and  calculate  anew  the  amount  of  taxation 
for   police   restraints  and  support,  made  necessary  by 
the  existence  of  a  place  like    this.     And  gaze  on  it 
Christian  men,  with  tearful  eyes — tears  of  regret  and 
shame — that  long  ere  now  the  Christian  Church  has 
not  combined  its  moral  influences,  and  tested  their  ut- 
most strength  to  purge  a  place  so  foul ;  for  this,  reader, 
is  the  "  Five  Points  !" — a  name  known  throughout  the 
Union,  in  England,  and  on  the  continent  of  Europe. 
The  "Five  Points  !" — a  name  which  has  hitherto  been 
banished  from  the  vocabulary  of  the  refined  and  sen- 
sitive, or  whispered  with  a  blush,  because  of  its  pain- 
ful and  degrading  associations.     The  "Five  Points!" 
What  does  that  name  import  ?     It  is  the  synonym  for 
ignorance  the  most  entire,  for  misery  the  most  abject, 
for  crime  of  the   iarkest  dye,  for  degradation  so  deep 
that  human  nature  cannot  sink  below  it.     We  hear  it, 
and  visions  of  sorrow — of  irremediable  misery — flit  be- 
fore our  mental  vision.     Infancy  and  childhood,  with- 
out a  mother's  care  or  a  father's  protection :  born  in 
sin,  nurtured  in  crime ;  the  young  mind  sullied  in  its 
first  bloom,  the  young  heart  crushed  before  its  tiny 
call   for   afi'ection   has  met   one   answering    response. 


THE     FIVE     POINTS.  36 

Girlhood  is  there ;  not  ingenuous,  blushing,  confiding 
youth,  but  reckless,  hardened,  shameless  effrontery, 
from  which  the  spectator  turns  away  to  weep.  Wo- 
man is  there  ;  but  she  has  forgotten  how  to  blush, 'and 
she  creates  oblivion  of  her  innocent  childhood's  home, 
and  of  the  home  of  riper  years,  with  its  associations 
of  fond  parental  love  and  paternal  sympathies,  by  the 
incessant  use  of  ardent  spirits.  Men  are  there — whose 
only  occupation  is  thieving,  and  sensuality  in  every 
form,  of  every  grade,  and  who  know  of  no  restraint, 
except  the  fear  of  the  strong  police,  who  hover  contin- 
ually about  these  precincts.  And  boys  are  there  by 
scores,  so  fearfully  mature  in  all  that  is  viciou-s  and  de- 
grading, that  soon,  0  how  soon,  they  will  be  fit  only 
for  the  prison  and  the  gallows. 

This  fearful  spot — this  concentration  of  moral  evil — 
this  heathendom  without  the  full  excuse  of  ignorance 
80  entire  as  creates  a  hope  for  foreign  lands — why  do 
we  portray  it  ?  Why  dwell  for  a  moment  upon  scenes 
at  which  even  a  casual  glance  causes  the  warm  blood 
to  mantle  to  the  cheek,  and  sends  it  rushing  through 
the  heart,  until  it  quivers  and  aches  with  intensest 
sorrow  ?  Why  ?  Because  we  believe  the  time  for  ac- 
tion, the  most  wise,  the  most  earnest,  the  most  vigor- 
ously sustained,  is  fully  come.     The  voice  of  benevo- 


36  THE    FIVE    POINTS. 

lence  has  sounded  there,  and  has  been  echoed,  not 
faintly,  not  equivocally,  but  by  a  cry  deep,  agonized, 
impassioned.  The  wail  of  infancy,  the  moan  of  neg- 
lected childhood,  the  groan  of  mature  years  sick  of  sin, 
yet  almost  despairing  of  rescue,  have  united,  and  the 
cry  has  reached  the  ear  of  Christian  kindness,  and 
Christian  hearts  have  responded  to  that  call,  and  are 
now  united  to  prove,  as  far  as  they  may  be  enabled, 
the  utmost  power  of  redeeming  grace  to  raise  the  fallen 
and  to  save  the  lost. 

For  several  years  the  New- York .  Ladies'  Home  Mis- 
sionary Society  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  had 
been  anxious  to  include  this  point  within  the  sphere  of 
their  operations.  Their  report  of  1848  contains  this 
language : — "  Vv^e  intend  to  make  a  new  point  in 
Centre  or  Elm-streets,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Tombs. 
The  deepest  interest  was  manifested  by  the  Board  res- 
pecting this  effort.  Several  ladies  pledged  their  per- 
sonal labors  to  the  Sunday  school,  and  all  feel  that  this 
is  emphatically  '  mission  ground.''  We  plead  for  the 
children — for  we  commence  with  the  Sabbath  school — 
the  children,  because  through  them  we  hope  to  reach 
the  parents — the  children,  because  ere  long  they  will 
hold  the  destiny  of  our  city  within  their  hands.  We 
expect  to  employ  a  missionary  there,  who  will  avail 


THE     FIVE     POINTS.  37 

himself  of  every  providential  opening  for  usefulness^ 
Urged  by  sucli  feelings,  the  Board  selected  a  commit- 
tee of  intelligent  and  judicious  gentlemen,  to  survey 
the  field  and  select  a  place  for  action.  After  a  careful 
survey,  the  committee  reported  that  a  suitable  room 
could  not  be  found,  and  therefore  the  ladies  must  defer 
their  hopes  and  plans.  The  point  was  sadly  yielded, 
but  never  for  a  moment  forgotten ;  and,  before  the 
Annual  Conference  of  1850,  it  was  resolved  "to  apply 
for  a  missionary,  in  full  faith  that  a  way  would  be 
made  plain  for  him  to  act  efficiently  and  profitably  " 
It  was  done,  and  most  cheerfully  responded  to  by  the 
Bishops,  and  a  missionary  was  appointed. 

The  ladies,  feelino;  the  difficulties  that  beset  them  in 
a  field  like  this,  and  encouraged  by  the  expressed  inter- 
est of  husbands,  brothers,  and  friends,  selected  a  num- 
ber of  gentlemen  of  the  highest  respectability  and 
standing,  who  were  formed  into  an  "Advisory  Com- 
mittee" to  the  Board,  and  were  empowered,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  missionary,  to  find  a  suitable  place  and 
make  all  necessary  arrangements  for  the  opening  of  the 
Sabbath  school.  Obstacles  seemed  to  vanish  before 
them.  A  room  was  found,  the  corner  of  Little-Water 
and  Cross-streets,  some  twenty  by  forty  feet,  thoroughly 
cleaned  and  seated,  and  thus  made   capable  of  accom- 


88  THE     FIVE     POINTS. 

modating  about  two  hundred  persons.  The  first  Sab- 
bath it  was  filled.  By  whom  ?  By  what  1  A  friend 
described  it  as  "  a  more  vivid  representation  of  hell 
than  she  had  ever  imagined."  Neglected  childhood, 
hardened,  reckless  maturity,  encased  in  filjth  and  rags. 
But,  through  the  power  of  grace,  there  were  those 
there  who  had  moral  and  physical  nerve  to  bear  the 
sight — the  sound.  They  sang,  and  prayed,  and  ex- 
horted, explained  their  motives  and  designs,  and  urged 
the  importance  of  cleanliness  upon  their  wretched  lis- 
teners. The  school  opened  with  seventy  scholars.  The 
first  few  Sabbaths  the  children  were  rather  unruly. 
The  hoys  would  throw  somersets,  and  knock  each  other 
down,  or  follow  any  other  inclination  which  arose.  In- 
deed, the  entire  want  of  self-restraint  was  one  of  the 
most  painful  features  of  the  scene,  for  who  could  re- 
press the  anxious  question,  "To  what  will  all  this 
lead  ?"  But  soon  the  school  was  perfectly  organized, 
and  each  succeeding  Sabbath  witnessed  its  increase  and 
improvement. 

Immediately  upon  the  establishment  of  the  mission, 
the  necessity  of  a  day-school  became  apparent ;  it  was 
found  that  weekly  impressions  were  too  evanescent  to 
be  of  much  benefit  to  children  who,  during  the  other 
six   days,  were  exposed  to  influences  which  ever  rest 


THE     FIVE     POINTS.  39 

upon  those  residing  there.  Preparations  were  made 
for  its  organization  ;  donations  of  books,  maps,  and 
slates  were  received,  a  teacher  selected  with  the  appro- 
val of  the  entire  Board,  and  the  ladies  were  rejoicing 
in  the  prospect  of  the  fulfillment  of  their  most  cherished 
plan,  when,  in  its  initiatory  stage,  adverse  influences 
intervened,  which,  by  placing  the  school  in  other 
hands,  removed  it  entirely  from  the  control  of  the 
society,  and,  of  course,  in  a  degree  from  the  direct 
influences  of  the  mission. 

Intemperance  prevailed  so  fearfully  in  this  region 
that  all  immediately  realized  that  nothing  could  be 
eflfected  until  this  tide  could  be  stayed.  Preaching 
fell  on  besotted  ears  in  vain ;  all  moral  truth  was 
wasted  ;  it  was  "  casting  pearls  before  swine."  Tem- 
perance-meetings were  instituted,  and  held  almost 
weekly  in  the  mission-room.  The  friends  of  the  cause 
rallied  there,  sang  temperance-songs,  and  made  earn- 
est speeches.  In  the  first  year  one  thousand  had 
signed  the  pledge,  including  some  of  the  very  worst 
of  the  inhabitants.  Since  then  there  has  been  a 
steady  increase,  and  the  closest  scrutiny  reports  that 
in  the  large  majority  of  cases  the  pledge  has  been 
fully  kept. 

Next   to   intemperance,   the   missionary   found   the 


40  THE     FIVE     P0IKT3. 

greatest  liindraiiice  to  consist  in  the  want  of  steady 
employment  for  the  surrounding  poor.  The  majority- 
were  vicious,  and  unused  to  work ;  many  were  anxious 
for  employment,  but  could  not  get  it,  because  the 
large  establishments  which  give  slop-work  to  the  poor 
would  not  trust  their  material  in  the  Five  Points  ;  and 
yet  they  were  obliged  to  remain  there  because  of  the 
cheapness  of  the  rents.  The  missionary,  by  becoming 
responsible,  found  one  house  willing  to  co-operato  in 
his  design.  After  many  experiments  and  many  difficul- 
ties a  regular  establishment  was  formed  in  which  fifty 
or  sixty  men  and  women  found  constant  employment, 
^nd  boarded  in  the  house  of  the  missionary.  The 
inmates  generally  attended  the  religious  services  of  the 
mission,  the  children  came  to  the  Sabbath  school,  and 
the  Society  regarded  it  as  a  valuable  adjunct  to  their 
undertaking.  At  the  end  of  the  first  year  the  same 
adverse  influence  which  had  already  removed  the 
day-school  from  the  control  of  the  Board  also  operated 
here  ;  and  although  they  have  been  successful  in  ob- 
taining employment  for  numbers,  yet  the  want  of  suffi- 
cient Toom  has  prevented  their  eSbrts  in  this  line  from 
being  apparent  to  casual  visitors. 

The    second  conference  year  opened  with   the    ap- 
pointment of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Luckey  (late  chaplain  to 


THE     FIVE     POI>"TS.  41 

the  Sing-Sing  State-prison)  to  that  field  of  labor.  His 
influence  among  the  convicts  of  Sing-Sing,  was  a  good 
preparation  for  the  work  which  now  devolved  upon 
him.  He  and  his  devoted  wife  have  penetrated  its 
dark  alleys,  and  have  explored  every  avenue  of  Cow- 
Bay  and  the  Old  Brewery.  The  wretched  inhabitants 
of  cellars  and  garrets  have  had  their  word  of  counsel, 
and  their  cheering  aid  ;  their  utmost  influence  has  been 
exerted  to  induce  the  children  to  attend  a  day-school 
supported  by  various  benevolent  individuals ;  tliey 
have  visited  the  sick,  and  directed  the  dying  to  Him 
who  could  save  to  the  uttermost ;  and  through  them, 
aided  by  ladies  and  gentlemen  connected  with  the 
mission,  a  moral  influence  has  been  exerted  which  is 
felt  throughout  that  entire  community.  Nor  have  they 
rested  here ;  scores  of  men  and  women  have  through 
them  been  supplied  with  work;  children  have  been 
placed  in  the  "  Home  of  the  Friendless,"  or  in  responsi- 
ble families ;  and  they  have  spared  neither  time  nor 
trouble  to  efl'ect  tlie?e  objects. 

During  the  year  the  mission-room  became  so 
crowded  with  children  and  adult  listeners,  who  also 
flocked  to  the  weekly  means  of  grace,  that  the  ne- 
cessity af  a  larger  place  was  painfully  felt.  While 
somewhat  anxiously  debating  about  ways  and  means  to 


45  THE     FIVE     POINTS. 

accomplisli  this,  a  path  entirely  unexpected  opened 
before  the  Board.  Mr.  Harding,  lessee  of  Metropolitan 
Hall,  (the  largest  and  most  beautiful  place  in  the  city 
for  a  public  meeting,)  offered  it  to  the  Society  for  one 
evening  free  of  expense.  The  Hutchinsons  and  Alle- 
ghanians,  being  apprized  of  this,  volunteered  to  sing 
gratuitously,  and  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Beecher  and  Wakely 
consented  to  speak  on  the  occasion.  This  association 
of  circumstances  induced  the  Board,  with  the  appro- 
val of  their  Advisory  Committee,  to  hold  a  public 
meeting  and  call  upon  all  interested  in  the  object  to 
aid  in  the  renovation  of  a  spot  which  for  years  had 
been  a  by-word  for  all  that  was  deg]^ded  in  human 
character  and  extreme  in  human  misery.  The  house 
was  filled  to  overflowing ;  the  interest  manifested  was 
great ;  and  $4,000  were  contributed  toward  that 
mission.  Thus  encouraged,  the  ladies  called  upon 
their  Advisory  Committee  to  redeem  a  former  promise, 
viz. :  that  if,  after  two  years'  trial,  the  success  should 
warrant  the  outlay,  they  would  aid  them  in  obtaining 
a  more  commodious  place.  After  a  thorough  survey 
they  concluded  that  the  "  Old  Brewery"  was  the  most 
eligible  point.  This  place,  celebrated  for  years  as  'the 
stronghold  for  crime  in  that  dark  region,  whose 
avenues  were  familiarly  known  as  "  Murderer's  Alley" 


THE     FIVE     POINTS.  43 

and  the  "  Den  of  Thieves,"  was  inhabited  at  the  time 
by  at  least  three  hundred  wretched  immortal  beings,  l^o 
language  can  exaggerate  its  filth  or  the  degradation  of 
its  inmates ;  and  the  cleansing  of  this  alone  we  deem 
missionary  work.  Believing  that  the  renovation  of  a 
place  like  this,  in  the  very  heart  of  our  great  city, 
would  prove  a  general  benefit,  the  Society  called 
upon  the  public  to  aid  them  still  further  in  the  arduous 
work.  Promptly  and  nobly  was  that  call  responded 
to  ;  ere  six  months  had  passed  |1 3,000  were  subscri- 
bed ;  and,  although  $3,000  of  the  required  sum  was 
yet  needed,  the  committee  felt  emboldened  to  make 
the  purchase. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE      OLD      BREWERY. 

"  Work,  work  -with  rigtt  endeavor. 

Walls  of  brass  resist  not 
A  noble  underiakiu;;- — uor  caa  Vice 

Raise  sny  bulwark  to  make  good  a  place 
Where  Viitue  seeks  to  enter." 

^'I  SPE^'T  some  days  at  "New  York,"  writes  Miss 
Bremer  in  lier  "Homes  of  the  New  "World,"  in  makino" 
a  closer  acquaintance  with  that  portion  of  the  life  of 
the  great  city  which  belongs  to  its  night  side  ;  to  the 
dark  realm  of  shadows  and  hell  as  it  exists  on  the  earth. 
I  wandered  through  it,  however,  accompanied  by  an 
angel  of  light.  I  cannot  otherwiso  speak  of  the  Quaker 
lady  "who  accompanied  mo,  for  her  countenance  was 
bright  and  beautiful  as  the  purest  goodness. 

"I  went  with  her  one  day  through  that  part  of  New 
Y"ork  called  Five  Points,  because  I  wished  to  see  this 
region,  in  which  the  rudest  and  most  degraded  portion 
of  the  population  of  New  York  were  thronged  together, 
probably  through  the  attraction  which  causes  like  to 


b 


I 


THE     OLD     BREWERY.  45 

seek  like.  Not  long  ago  it  was  unsafe  for  a  stranger 
within  these  purlieus,  but  the  Methodists  of  New  York 
conceived  the  divinely  bold  idea  of  building  a  church 
to  God  in  the  heart  of  this  central  point  of  vice  and 
misery.  They  hired  a  house,  sent  a  minister  to  reside 
there,  established  schools,  work  rooms,  &c.,  which 
would  give  ample  space  for  "the  other  master." 

"  The  Five  Points  is  one  of  the  oldest  portions  of  New 
York  and  received  its  name  from  five  streets,  which 
open  here  into  a  large  square.  These  streets  and 
especially  the  square  are  the  haunts  of  the  extremest 
misery  of  that  great  city.  Lower  than  to  the  Five 
Points  it  is  not  possible  for  human  nature  to  sink.  Quar- 
rels and  blows,  theft  and  even  murder  belong  to  the  order 
of  day  and  night.  There  is  in  the  square,  in  particular, 
one  large,  yellow-colored  delapidated,  old  house  called 
"the  Old  Brewery,"  because  formerly  it  was  employed 
as  such.  This  house  is  properly  the  head  quarters  of 
vice  and  misery,  and  the  old  brewer  of  all  the  world's 
misery  has  dominion  there  at  this  day. 

""We — Mrs.  G.  and  myself — went  alone  through  this 
house  where  we  visited  many  hidden  dens  and  conversed 
with  their  inhabitants.  We  considered  it  better  and 
safer  to  go  about  here  alone  than  in  company  with  a 
gentleman.     Neither  did  we  meet  any  instance  of  rude- 


46  THE     OLD     BREWERY. 

ness  or  even  incivility.     "We  saw  a  young  lad  sitting  at 
the  gaming-table  with  old  rufEans — unfortunate  women 
suffering  from  horrible  diseases — sickly  children — giddy 
young  girk — ill-tempered  women  quarrelling  with  the 
whole    world — and   some    families    also    we    saw   who 
seemed  to  me  wretched  rather  through  poverty  than 
moral  degradation.     From  unabashed,  hardened  crime, 
to  those  who  sinking  under  the  consequences  of  vice 
are  passing  down  to  death — without  an  ear  to  listen  to 
their  groans,  without  sympathy,  without  hope — is  there 
in   every   grade    of    moral    corruption,    festering    and 
fermenting  in  the  Old  Brewery  ;  filth,  rags,  pestilential 
air — every  thing  was  in  that  Old  Brewery,  and  yet  there, 
after  all  I  did  not  see  anything  worse  than  I  had  seen  be- 
fore in  Paris,  London,  Stockholm.   Ah  !  in  all  large  cities 
where  human  masses  congregate  may  be  found  the  Old 
Brewery  of  vice  and  misery,  and  where  the  Old  Brewer 
distils  his  poison.     The   off-scouring    of  society  flow's 
hither,  becomes  more  corrupt,  and  will  thence  corrupt 
the  atmosphere  of  society,  until  the  fresh  and  better  life 
obtains  power  over  the  old  leaven — the  IN'ew  Church 
over  the   Old  Brewery.     A  great  movement  exists  in 
this    direction   at  the   present  time.     The   Church   of 
Christ  extends  itself  not  merely  to  the  soul,  but  is  be- 
ginning  to   comprehend,  the  whole   human  being,  to 


THE     OLD     BREWERY.  47 

develop  itself  in  schools,  in  sanitary  wardship,  in  every 
kind  of  institution  which  promotes  the  whole  somework 
of  Christian  love  on  earth,  both  for  soul  and  body,  and 
repeats  the  word  of  the  Lord  to  the  leper.  *  I  will,  be 
thou  clean,' " 

To  this  vivid  description  we  add  the  following  picture 
of  the  "  Old  Brewery,"  taken  from  one  of  the  daily 
papers  : 

"  An  alley  extends  all  around  the  building  ;  on  the  north 
side  it  is  of  irregular  width,  wide  at  the  entrance,  and 
gradually  tapering  to  a  point.  On  the  opposite  side  the 
passage-way  is  known  by  the  name  of  '  ^Murderer's  Alley,'  a 
filthy,  narrow  path,  scarcely  three  feet  in  width.  Thei'e  are 
double  rows  of  rooms  throughout  the  building,  entered  by  the 
alley-ways  on  either  side.  Some  of  these  rooms  are  just 
passably  decent ;  the  majority  are  dirty,  dark,  and  totally 
unfit  for  occupation.  The  dark  and  winding  passage-ways, 
which  extend  throughout  the  whole  building,  must  have  af- 
forded a  convenient  means  of  escape  to  thieves  and  criminals 
of  all  kinds ;  there  are  also  various  hiding-places  recently  dis- 
covered, which  have  also,  no  doubt,  afforded  the  means  of 
escape  to  offenders  against  the  laws.  In  the  floor  in  one  of 
the  upper  rooms,  a  place  was  found  where  the  boards  had 
been  sawed  ;  upon  tearing  them  up,  human  bones  were  found, 
the  remains,  no  doubt,  of  a  victim  of  some  diabolical  murder. 
The  whole  of  the  building  above-ground  is  rickety  and 
dilapidated — some  of  the  stairs  even  creak  when  trodden 
upon.  Our  way  was  explored  by  the  aid  of  a  single  lamp,  in 
company  with  two  gentlemen  and  a  guide ;  beside  these  there 
were  a  number  of  rather  rough-looking  customers,  who  ap- 


48  THE     OLD     B  R  E  Vr  E  R  Y . 

peared  as  mucli  interested  as  any  one  else.  But  it  ■was  not 
until  one  of  the  gentlemen  complaine-d,  in  one  of  the  dark 
passage-ways,  of  a  strange  hand  in  his  pocket,  that  these  three 
characters  were  suspected.  Then  our  guide  informed  us,  in 
an  under-tone,  that  we  were  surrounded  by  a  gang  of  the 
most  notorious  pickpockets  and  thieves  of  that  section,  and 
that  we  must  take  good  care  of  our  watches,  or  we  would  lose 
them  before  we  were  aware.  To  grope  one's  way,  at  night, 
through  the  dark  passages,  when  the  light  was  within  sight 
only  a  part  of  the  time,  and  to  be  surrounded  with  a  crowd- 
ing, pushing  gang  of  desperadoes,  was  not  altogether  the  most 
pleasant  way  of  spending  our  evening. 

*•■  The  above-ground  part  of  the  premises  cannot  be  better 
imagined  than  by  supposing  it  just  as  bad  as  it  can  be, — once 
plastered,  but  now  half  the  wall  off,  in  some  places  mended  by 
pasting  newspapers  over  it,  but  often  revealing  unsightly 
holes.  The  under  part,  or  basement  of  the  building,  is  even 
still  worse  on  the  south-west  corner ;  in  a  lower  room,  not 
more  than  fifteen  feet  square,  twenty-six  human  beings  reside. 
A  man  could  scarely  stand  erect  in  it ;  two  men  were  sitting 
by  the  blaze  of  a  few  sticks  when  our  company  entered ; 
women  lay  on  a  mass  of  filthy,  unsightly  rags  in  the  corner — 
sick,  feeble,  and  emaciated  ;  six  or  seven  children  were  in 
various  attitudes  about  the  corner  ;  an  old  table  covered  with 
a  few  broken  dishes  ;  two  women  were  peeling  potatoes,  and 
actually  pulling  off  the  skins  with  their  finger  nails  ;  the 
smoke  and  stench  of  the  room  was  so  suffocating  that  it 
could  not  be  long  endured,  and  the  announcement  that,  in 
addition  to  the  misfortune  of  poverty,  they  had  the  measles 
to  boot,  started  most  of  our  party  in  a  precipitate  retreat 
from  the  premises. 

"  On  the  front  side  of  the  building  the  basement  is  deeper, 
but  if  possible  worse.     Here  were  seen  only  a  few  miserable- 


THE     OLD     BRE  WERT.  49 

looking  women — one  was  drunk  and  stupid,  and  lay  upon  the 
bare  floor  in  the  corner  :  in  a  side  room,  in  front  of  a  fire- 
place, and  before  a  full  blaze,  sat  two  women,  who  looked  as 
low  and  debased  as  any  human  beings  could.  No  furniture 
was  in  the  room,  with  only  the  floor  for  their  bed,  and  the 
scant  dresses  they  wore  for  their  only  covering. 

'•  But  it  may  be  asked :  "What  do  these  wretched  people  do 
for  a  living  ?  We  answer  :  The  men  are  street-sweepers  and 
thieves,  the  women  beg  and  steal  what  they  can,  the  children 
sweep  crossings  in  wet  weather,  and  cut  up  the  kindling-wood 
which  we  all  see  them  carry  about  the  streets.  A  great  deal 
of  this  last  business,  we  observed,  was  carried  on  in  the  '  Old 
Brewery.'  What  more  they  do  who  can  rtell  ?  Miserable 
beings !  life  is  at  best  but  an  unpleasant  necessity,  but  to 
them  it  must  be  an  awful  punishment." 

This  was  the  state  of  the  "  Old  Brewery"  in  1850, 
when  the  Society  first  entered  the  field,  and  for  the  twc 
succeeding  years.  We  learn  from  an  old  inhabitant  of 
New  York  that  it  was  erected  in  1792,  and  then  known 
as  Coulter's  Brewery ;  that  it  was  changed  to  a  tenement- 
building  in  1837,  and  seems  almost  immediately  to  have 
attained  its  "  bad  pre-eminence." 

We  now  return  to  the  history  of  its  purchase  and 
demolition.  The  advisory  committee  met  to  redeem 
their  promise,  mentioned  as  having  been  given  at  the 
commencement  of  the  enterprise.  During  the  discussion 
of  places  and  prices,  Mrs.  D.  mentioned  the  "  Old  Brew- 
ery."   The  proposition  was  received  with  hearty  laughter 

3 


5U  T  H  E     O  L  D     B  R  E  Y\^  E  R  Y  . 

on  the  part  of  the  gentlemen,  so  chimerical  at  that  time 
seemed  the  idea.  A  committee  was  appointed  to  survey 
the  premises,  to  ascertain  what  was  to  be  sold  and  at 
what  prices,  &c.  They  met  again  on  February  5,  1852, 
and  reported  "  that  they  had  examined  a  number  of 
situations,  and  in  their  -opinion  the  '  Old  Brewery'  was 
the  most  eligible  place ;"  and  after  considerable  dis- 
cussion, it  was  resolved,  "  That  the  business  of  examin- 
ing the  '  Old  Brewery,'  and  also  of  waiting  upon  Mr. 
Lynch,  the  owner  of  the  property,  to  get  the  refusal  of 
it  for  a  short  time,  be  referred  to  a  committee  consisting 
of  Rev.  Mr.  Luckey,  Messrs.  W.  B.  Skidmore,  L.  Kirby, 
D.  Drew,  J.  Cornell,  N.  Worrall,  and  0.  D.  M'Clain." 

This  was  a  memorable  meeting  to  the  Society  ;  for 
the  gentlemen,  practical  business  men,  SA^mpathized 
fully  with  their  ardent  wishes,  and  expressed  themselves 
ready  to  give  their  time,  influence,  and  money,  to  aid 
to  the  utmost  in  this  favorite  mission.  On  the  evening 
of  February  23d,  the  following  resolutions  were  passed  ; 
and  we  give  them  to  show  how  thoughtfully  and  care- 
fully all  these  plans  were  laid,  and  how  judiciously  the 
gentlemen  appointed  to  receive  and  expend  the  public 
funds  acted  in  reference  to  every  point. 

First :  "  That  in  view  of  the  benefits  that  have  resulted 
from  the  experiment  of  the  Ladies'  Home  Missionary  Society 


THEOLDCKE'SVERT.  51 

in  the  establishment  of  a  mission  at  the  '  Five  Points,'  and 
also  in  view  of  the  prospects  of  its  increasing  usefulness,  we 
deem  it  of  the  utmost  importance  that  a  permanent  location 
be  purchased — the  rooms  now  occupied  being  too  small  and 
inconvenient  for  the  use  of  the  mission."     And, 

Secondly  :  •'  That  we  pledge  ourselves  to  purchase  the  pro- 
perty known  as  the  '  Old  Brewery,'  situated  at  the  '  Five 
Points,'  on  Cross-street,  for  the  use  of  the  Ladies'  Home 
Mission  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  provided  it  can 
be  obtained  for  a  sum  not  exceeding  §16,000  ;  and  also 
provided  that  subscriptions  be  obtained  toward  the  payment 
of  said  purchase  of  not  less  than  310,000  by  the  10th  day  of 
March  next ;  and  we  hereby  pledge  ourselves  to  use  the 
utmost  of  our  endeavors  to  obtain  the  amount  by  the  time 
named." 

After  several  intermediate  meetings,  on  March  8th,  it 
was  moved  by  Mr,  Leonard  Kirby,  and  seconded  by 
Mr.  Daniel  Drew, 

"  That  the  committee  forthwith  close  with  the  offer  made 
by  the  owner  of  the  '  Old  Brewery,'  and  agree  with  him  for 
the  purchase  at  the  sum  named— §  16,000." 

It  was  carried  iinauimously  ;  Messrs.  Kirby  and 
Worrall  were  appointed  a  committee  to  eflect  a  pur' 
chase,  and  in  a  few  days  the  joyful  announcement  was 
made  that  the  "  Old  Brewery"  was  redeemed.  But 
more  was  to  be  done  ;  money  was  to  be  raised,  and 
this,  too,  by  thousands  ;  and  the  Board  of  Managers, 
feeling  most  deeply  their  obligations  to  the  gentlemen 
who,    for    them,    had   incurred    so    heavy    a    personal 


52  THEOLDBREWERT. 

responsibility,  aroused  themselves  to  the,  most  vigorous 
and  persevering  action. 

The  public  met  their  appeals  nobly,  immediately,  and 
before  one  year  had  closed  the  entire  sum  was  sub- 
scribed ;  and  then  their  cautious  committee,  who  had 
previously  resolved  not  to  build  until  the  purchase- 
money  was  entirely  raised,  sounded  the  note  of  victory. 
Ere  we  proceed,  in  our  narrative,  to  raze  the  old  build- 
ing to  its  foundations,  we  will  give  several  incidents  as 
a  speciAien  of  missionary  labor  in  connection  with  it 
before  it  was  redeemed  by  the  Society. 

One  Tuesday  evening,  in  the  winter  of  ISS^l,  the 
usual  weekly  prayer-meeting  was  in  session  at  the 
Mission  Room,  which  was  directly  opposite  the  "  Old 
Brewery."  Two  men,  under  the  influence  of  liquor, 
abruptly  entered,  and  inquired  for  the  missionary.  Mr. 
Luckey  asked  them  their  business.  They  replied  that 
a  sick  man  in  one  of  the  upper  rooms  of  the  "Old 
Brewery"  desired  his  immediate  attendance.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  men,  the  hour  of  the  night,  the  locality 
specified,  beside  the  fact  that  the  prayer-meeting  re- 
quired his  presence,  caused  Mr.  Luckey  to  hesitate,  and 
he  dismissed  the  men  with  the  promise  that  he  would 
come  the  next  day.  In  a  little  time  one  returned, 
urging  that   the  man  was  dj'ing,   and  must  see   him  *- 


THEOLDBREWERY.  53 

immediately.  The  call  was  thus  decisive,  and,  laying 
aside  every  personal  consideration,  Mr.  Luckey  resigned 
the  charge  of  the  meeting  to  his  wife,  and,  taking  one 
of  the  mission  converts  with  him,  followed  his  rough, 
half-drunken  guide.  They  crossed  the  street,  and  en- 
tered the  dark,  narrow  passage  known  as  "  Murderer's 
Alley,"  groped  their  way  b^ck  to  the  "  Den  of  Thieves," 
and  then  commenced  ascending  a  creaking  stairs.  The 
guide  reached  back  his  hand  to  Mr.  Luckey,  and,  thus 
escorted,  he  proceeded.  Standing  on  the  first  platform, 
a  sflimmerino-  liaht  throuo-h  the  cracked  walls  and  the 
sound  of  noisy  mirth  proclaimed  a  drunken  revel.  The 
guide  unceremoniously  placed  his  foot  against  the  door, 
which  yielded  to  the  heavy  pressure,  entered  the  room, 
and,  snatching  a  burning  brand  from  the  hearth,  again 
appeared,  and  they  continued  their  upward  path  until 
they  reached  a  long,  low  room,  near,  if  not  in,  the  attic. 
On  entering,  Mr.  L.  found  the  sick  man  on  a  miserable 
bed,  evidently  near  the  grave,  agonized  with  fear  and 
remorse,  and  a  pale-looking  wife  and  daughter  almost 
faintino;  with  frio-ht.  The  man  besoucrht  Mr.  L.  to 
remove  him  from  that  dreadful  place ;  and  when  he  at- 
tempted to  direct  his  mind  to  the  Saviour,  the  imploring 
response  was  :  "  0  take  me  first  from  here  ;  take  me 
where  Jesus  can  comeT     Mr.  L.  proposed  prayer.     "  0  ! 


54  THE     O  LD     B  RE  WEIt  Y  . 

they  will  murder  us  if  you  pray,"  was  the  trembling 
response,  as  the  sound  of  oaths  and  curses  from  the  next 
room  fell  upon  the  ear.  The  missionary,  strong  in 
faith,  knelt  down — the  first  words  of  prayer  brought  a 
number  of  fierce,  half-drunken  men  and  women  into 
the  room,  who,  as  soon  as  they  recognized  him,  fell 
back,  whispering  "  'tis  the  minister — 'tis  Mr.  Luckey," 
and  as  his  voice  rose  in  pleading  prayer  to  God  for  the 
sick  and  the  wretched  around,  every  sound  was  hushed, 
and  they  retreated  to  their  own  dens  in  perfect  stillness. 
When  Mr.  Luckey  was  about  leaving  the  room,  the 
family  clung  around  him,  beseeching  hiin  not  to  leave 
them,  but  to  take  them  hence ;  and  their  fear  and  im- 
portunity were  so  excessive,  that  Mr.  Luckey  despatched 
a  messenger  to  a  neighboring  house,  to  knowifthey 
could  be  accommodated  for  the  night.  Keceiving  an 
aflSrmative  answer,  they  took  him  in  their  arms,  and, 
followed  by  the  wife  and  daughter,  descended.  The 
man  lay  with  clasped  hands  and  eyes  upraised,  praying 
incessantly,  and  when  laid  down  in  a  quiet  place  ex- 
claimed, "  j^ow  Christ  can  save  me !"  In  a  few  days 
he  was  removed  to  the  City  Hospital,  where  Mr.  Luckey 
visited  him,  and  although  he  sank  and  died  within  a 
week,  yet  apparently  he  learned  to  trust  in  Christ  and 
'•est  on  Him  as  his  Saviour.     The  wife  (who  became 


T  IIE     O  L  D     B  R  E  W  E  R  r  .  55 

such  by  Mr.  Luckey's  performing  the  ceremony  of 
marriage  in  the  Hospital)  survived  but  a  short  time, 
and  the  daughter  is  now  residing  with  a  respectable 
family  on  Staten  Island. 

On  the  first  establishment  of  the  mission  at  the  Five 
Points,  it  was  thought  extremely  hazardous  for  .ladies 
to  visit  families  in  that  neighborhood,  and  to  gather  in 
children  for  the  schools.  Two  of  the  ladies  of  the 
Board,  however,  years  before  associated  with  the 
New  York  "Clothing  Society,  were  the  committee  of 
visitation  to  the  Sixth  Ward,  which  includes  the 
Five  Points,  and  they  thought  there  was  no  ground 
for  these  apprehensions.  The  first  year  proved  their 
views  correct,  as  nearly  every  house  and  family  were 
visited  by  some  lady  of  the  Board,  and  no  where  did 
they  meet  with  rudeness  or  incivility.  Even  the  Old 
Brewery  with  its  numerous  cellars,  dark  passages  and  at- 
tics,became  familiar  to  a  few  who  had  moral  and  physical 
courage  enough  to  bear  the  sight,  inhale  the  air  and  hear 
the  sounds.  "  Our  first  introduction  to  this  '  pest  house 
of  death,'  "  writes  Mrs.  D.  "may  not  be  without  its  moral. 

"  A  person  by  the  name  of  Brennan,  had  kept  a 
grocery  and  liquor  store  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
building  for  a  number  of  years.  He  had  been  irritated 
by  the  conduct  of  the  first   missionary,  employed    to 


66  THE     OLD     BREWERY. 

labor  in  that  locality,  who  had,  he  said,  denounced  him 
from  the  pnlpit,  holding  him  up  to  the  derision  and 
scorn  of  the  children  of  the  school,  and  it  was  said  that 
he  would  not  allow  ladies  to  enter  the  building. 

"One  morning,  several  of  the  children  were  absent 
from  -the  school.  They  lived  in  the  attics  of  the 
Old  Brewery,  passing  to  their  miserable  homes  through 
the  passage  called  Murderer's  Alley,  or  through  the  oth- 
er, known  as  the  Den  of  Thieves,  We  own  to  the  feeling 
of  timidity  in  venturing  through  these  darksome  ways, 
without  the  escort  of  some  gentleman,  but  what  wa^  to 
be  done  ?  ^o  teacher  could  be  spared  from  the  school- 
room, and  no  visitor  had  arrived.  I  hesitated,  my 
heart  began  to  beat  faster,  and  I  found  myself  involun- 
tarily drawing  longer  and  deeper  inspirations  while  resolv- 
ing to  go  alone.  I  crossed  the  street,  praying  as  I  went, 
'  Lord  preserve  me,  O  protect  me,  for  thy  name's 
sake.' 

"  As  I  v/ent  up  Murderer's  Alley,  Mr.  Brennan,  who 
was  the  agent  for  the  building,  stood  with  a  determined 
air  in  my  path.  I  smiled,  retraced  my  steps,  and 
thinking  I  would  reach  the  attics  by  the  other  passage, 
I  entered  it,  but  was  again  met  by  Mr.  Brennan,  who 
had  passed  round  the  rear  of  the  building  to  oppose 
my   entrance.      I   then   resolved   to   speak     to    him. 


THE     OLD     BREWERY.  57 

'  Good  morning,sir,'  said  I,  '  a  beautiful  morning,  but 
some  of  our  children  are  very  late  at  school,  and  I 
am  in  search  of  them.  Can  you  tell  me  in  what  room 
I  shall  find  Mrs.  Heston  and  Mrs.  Sullivan,  and  is  there 
any  danger  in  my  ascending  these  old  rickety  stairs  to 
look  after  them  V 

"  I  appeared  very  brave,  but  my  heart  beat  not  a 
little,  for  the  most  awful  oaths  and  curses  fell  upon 
my  ear,  from  the  adjoining  '  Den  of  Thieves.'  He 
gave  me  my  directions,  and  then  said  very  kindly, 
'  You  may  go  all  over  the  house,  wherever  you  please, 
and  so  may  any  of  the  ladies,  and  if  anybody  speaks 
wrong  to  you,  let  me  know.  I  am  unwilling,'  he  added, 
'  to  allow  Mr.  Pease  to  enter  these  doors,  for  he 
never  comes  to  relieve  poverty  and  suffering,  but  mere- 
ly to  exhibit  it  to  his  visitors  as  he  would  a  menagerie, 
and  when  I  open  a  menagerie,  I  will  charge  twenty-five 
cents  admission.'  I  began  to  breathe  more  freely 
when  I  left  him,  although  the  passages  and  stair 
ways  through  which  I  groped  my  way  were,  in 
Bome  instances,  so  dark  that  I  had  to  pass  my  hands 
along  the  wall  until  I  felt  the  casement  of  the  door 
opening  on  some  poor  family  or  families — for  soi^e- 
times  there  were  two   or  three   families   in    a   room. 

"Oa  some  of  the  landings  I  stopped  and  listened,  almost 

3-^ 


Ob  THE     OLD     BREWERY. 

afraid  of  the  sound  of  my  own  steps ;  but  I  reached 
the  attic,  and  found  the  families  of  whom  I  was  in 
search.  Mrs.  Heston  had  her  two  little  girls  ready 
for  school,  and  expressed  her  surprise  that  I  should 
have  ventured  up  alone,  but  I  told  her  nothing  had 
harmed  me.  She  seemed  to  fear,  however,  and  insisted 
upon  leaving  her  door  open  to  light  the  ■  two  girls 
and  myself  down  the  stairs.  I  thanked  Mr.  B.  for 
his  kindness  when  I  returned,  and  this  opened  an 
acquaintance  with  him  of  a  most  friendly  kind  ;  and 
from  that  time  to  the  present  I  have  found  him  to 
be  a  true  friend  to  the  Mission.  A  few  months  after 
this  my  sister  and  myself  were  in  conA^ersation  with 
Mr.  B.,  and  asked  him  his  views  of  some  of  the  families, 
their  poverty,  improvidence,  intemperance,  &c.  He 
admitted  that  intemperance  was  the  cause  of  nearly 
all  their  misery.  I  then  took  occasion  to  ask  him  if 
he  had  ever  thought  he  had  been  the  cause  of  any 
of  that  misery.  He  replied,  'I  do  not  know  that  I 
have.  I  never  drink  myself,  and  I  often  talk  to  these 
people  about  it,  but  it  is  of  no  use  ;  and  if  I  did  not  sell 
it  to  them,  still  they  loould  drinks  '  Yes,'  said  I, 
'  that  may  be  so  ;  but  your  influence  ;  did  it  never 
strike  you  that  you  were  making  drunkards  by  keep- 
ing a  liquor-store  ?  may   not  the  first  glass  of  liquor 


THEOLDBRE^V'ERy.  59 

you  have  soli  to  some  boy  or  girl,  by  creating  a  taste  for 
another  and  yet  another,  have  led  to  certain  destruc- 
tion ?  He  did  not  make  much  reply,  but  the  next 
time  I  saw  him,  he  said  he  had  been  thinking  seriously 
of  the  conversation  between  us.  I  then  tried  in  the 
best  way  I  could  to  show  him  the  influence  a  bad 
example  would  have  on  all  coming  time,  and  that 
eternity  alone  could  unfold  all  the  evil  it  had  wrought. 
He  admitted  he  had  never  taken  that  view  of  it  before, 
and  promised  that  as  soon  as  he  possibly  could  he 
would  give  up  .he  sale  of  liquor  ;  for,  he  continued, 
'  of  all  places  in  the  world  to  rear  a  family,  the  Five 
Points  is  the  very  worst,  and  no  consideration  could 
induce  me  to  move  my  family  into  its  precincts.' 
His  wife  and  live  children  resided  in  another  part  of 
the  city.  A  little  while  after  this  last  conversation, 
when  I  met  him  one  morning,  his  face  brightened  as  he 
held  out  his  hand,  saying,  *  I  have  good  news  to 
tell  you  ;  I  have  done  with  the  sale  of  liquor  ;  I  have 
long  despised  the  business,  and  have  now  made  up  my 
mind  never  to  sell  another  drop  while  I  live.'' 

"  He  was  one  of  those  candid,  prompt  sort  of  men 
whose  word  is  believed  without  question.  I  bade  him 
Grod-speed  in  his  purpose.  He  was  as  good  as  his 
word,  although  at  the  time  he   had  no   prospect  of 


60  THE     OLD     BREWERY. 

support  far  his  family.  We  bad  promised  to  try  and 
providvi  a  situation  for  lili»,  lui!:  bo  bas  obtained  one 
for  himself  in  the  adjoining  coal  yai*d  as  clerk,  which 
office  he  still  retains.  He  often  expresses  his  pleasure 
at  having  been  induced  to  give  up  the  sale  of  liquor, 
and  he  is  a  warm  friend  to  the  Mission,  rejoicing  in 
its  prosperity,  and  declaring  that  it  has  been  the  great- 
est blessing  to  the  neighborhood. 

"  This  instance  has  been  a  source  of  encourao-emeut 
to  us,  and  it  has  not  been  without  its  effect  in  that 
locality,  where  the  Mission  bas  met  with  general 
favor.  While  the  large  tent  was  located  in  the  little 
park  (known  as  Paradise  Square)  befoi'e  the  erection 
of  our  new  mission  buildings  on  the  site  of  the 
'  Old  Brewery,'  a  grocer  at  the  corner  of  little  Water 
and  Anthony  street,  kindly  sent  us  coal  without  charge 
to  supply  the  furnace  lent  to  us  by  Keyser  &  Co. 
He  has  since  given  us  a  donation  in  money,  and  says 
he  wishes  us  well,  which  he  proves  by  encouraging 
the  children  of  his  tenants  to  attend  our  schools. 
May  we  not  hope  to  exert  a  still  greater  influence 
on  the  retailers  of  liquors  ?  We  believe  that  nothing 
but  kindness  will  reach  the  hearts  of  these  people,  and 
that  police  restraints  are  not  so  powerful  as  the  law  of 
love  by  which  we  haj")e  ever  to  be  governed  in  our  work." 


THE     OLD     BREWERY.  61 

We  could  multiply  such  scenes  if  we  had  room,  but 
deem  it  best  to  give  a  few  in  the  condensed  form  in 
which  they  were  prepared,  to  be  sung  at  a  publir. 
meeting. 


€^t        (Dli    foTimtt^/' 


BT   REV.    T.    F.    R.    MERCEIN. 

G-od  knows  it's  time  thy  walls  •were  going! 

Through  every  stone 
Life-blond,  as  through  a  heart,  is  flowing ; 

Murmurs  a  smother'd  groan. 
Long  years  the  cap  of  poison  filling 

From  leave?  of  gall ; 
Long  years  a  darker  cup  distilling 

From  wither'd  hearts  Ihat  fall ! 
0  I  this  world  is  8t?m  and  dreary, 

Everywhere  they  roam ; 
God !  hast  thou  never  call'd  the  weary 

Have  they  in  thee  no  home  ? 

One  sobbincr  child,  beside  a  mother, 

Starved  in  the  co"d  ; 
Poor  lamb !  thy  moan  awakes  no  other, 

Christ  is  thy  only  fold  ! 
One  gen'.le  girl  that  grew  in  gladcess, 

Loved — was  betray'd — 
Jeers  met  her  dying  shriek  of  madneM, 

Oaths  mock'd  the  words  she  pray'd. 
O !  thii  world  is  stern  rid  dreary, 

Everywhere  they  roam ; 
God !  hast  thou  never  call'd  the  weary  ? 

Have  they  ic  thoe  no  home  ? 


C2  T  11  E     O  L  D     B  R  E  TVER  Y. 

Sweet  babe  !  that  tried  to  meet  life  smiling 

Smiled  nevermore ! 
Fo-ul  sin,  a  motlier's  breast  defiling, 

Bligtited  the  yonng  heart's  core  ! 
No  holy  word  of  kindness  spoken — 

No  lisped  prayer — 
Law  crush'd  the  virtue  want  had  broken, 

Shame  hardened  to  despair. 
O !  this  world  is  stern  and  dreary, 

Everywhere  they  roam ; 
Q-od !  hast  thou  never  call'd  the  weary  ? 

Have  they  in  thee  no  home  ? 

Foul  haunt !  a  glorious  resurrection 

Springs  from  thy  grave  ! 
Faith,  hope,  and  purified  afifection, 

Praising  the  "  Strong  to  save !" 
God  bless  the  love  that,  like  an  angel, 

Flies  to  each  call, 
Till  every  lip  hath  this  evangel, 

"  Christ  pleadeth  for  ns  all !" 
O !  this  world  is  stern  and  dreary, 

Everywhere  they  roam ; 
Praise  God !  a  voice  hath  call'd  the  weary 

In  thee  is  found  a  home  ! 


The  last  verse  is  prophetic,  but  vsrill,  we  hope,  soon 
be  realized — for  in  the  middle  of  December,  1852,  the 
demolition  of  the  "  Old  Brewery"  commenced,  and  in  a 
week's  time  not  one  stone  was  left  upon  another. 
During  the  past  year,  though  much  hindered  by  want 
of  room,  and  misjudged  by  many  who  did  not  understand 
the  reasons  which  actuated  the  Ladies'  Society  in  many 
of  their  actions,  the  Mission  has  nevertheless  strength- 
ened its  stakes  niicl  enlarged  its  borders,  and,  judging 


THKOLDBRETVERY.  63 

from  the  results  of  the  last  great  public  meeting,  ob- 
tained an  increasing  interest  in  the  public  mind.  Mr. 
W.  E.  Harding  renewed  his  offer  of  Metropolitan  Hall 
for  a  public  demonstration,  free  of  expense  ;  on  tho 
I7th  of  December,  a  concert  was  held  in  the  afternoon, 
and  in  the  evening  Mr.  J.  B,  Goug-h  addressed  a 
crowded  audience,  after  which  $4,000  were  again  sub- 
scribed for  the  building  to  be  erected  on  the  site  of 
the  "  Old  Brewery."  The  Ragged  School  is  in 
vigorous  operation,  containing  already  one  hundred 
and  fifty  scholars.  The  Common  Council  not  only 
gran^d  $1,000  to  the  Society,  but  also  the  privilege 
of  erecting  a  temporary  building  in  the  little  park,  in 
which  to  hold  the  day-school  until  the  Mission  Room  m 
completed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LIGHT      SHINING     IN     DARKNESS. 

The  era  so  long  anticipated  at  length  arrived,  and 
on  Dec.  2d,  tlie  sun  shone  for  the  last  time  on  the 
doomed  "  Old  Brewery."  This  event  so  marked  in 
the  history  of  the  Society  awakened  the  deepest  interest 
in  the  public  mind,  as  illustrative  of  which  we  give  the 
following  graphic  sketch  from  the  pen  of  R.  A.  West, 
Esq. : 

"  The  day  of  its  demolition  deserves  to  be  distinguished  as 
a  red  letter  day  in  the  annals  of  our  city's  history.  The  great 
landmark  of  vice  and  degradation,  the  haunt  of  crime  and  the 
home  of  misery,  will  soon  be  among  the  things  that  were — a 
remembrance,  but  no  longer  a  fact.  In  its  stead  will  rise  a 
landmark  for  virtue  and  morality,  and  a  home  for  the  dis- 
consolate and  the  desolate.  The  drunkard,  and  the  debased 
and  the  stealthy  murderer,  will  no  more  hie  thither  for  con- 
cealment, but  sobriety,  and  purity,  and  mercy,  will  stand  with 
open  arms  to  receive  whomsoever  will  eschew  vice  and  make 
fellowship  with  virtue.  "What  no  legal  enactment  could  ac- 
complish— what  no  machinery  of  municipal  government  could 
efiect — Christian  women  have  brought  about,  quietly  but 
thoroughly  and   triumphantly.     From  henceforth  the  Old 


LIGHT     SHINING     I\     DARKNESS.  65 

Brewery  is  no  mere.  Had  any  one  predicted  this  ten,  or 
even  five,  years  ago,  the  laugh  of  scorn  or  the  smile  of  in- 
credulity would  have  greeted  his  prophecy.  The  great 
problem  of  how  to  renovate  the  Five  Points  had  engaged 
the  attention  of  both  the  legislative  and  the  executive 
branches  of  the  city  government,  and  both  had  abandoned 
the  task  in  despair.  The  evil  was  deemed  incurable,  and  so 
it  seemed  to  be. 

"  Xay  even  some  Christian  associations  were  scarcely  more 
hopeful,  and  hesitated  to  employ  their  means  on  what  seemed 
a  Utopian  enterprize.  This  may  seem  marvellous,  but  it  is 
no  less  true,  and  is  to  be  accounted  for,  we  presume,  by  the 
sense  of  responsibility  to  the  donors  of  the  fands  by  which 
such  associations  are  supported,  which  the  members  felt  made 
it  imperative  upon  them  to  employ  their  means  in  those 
undertakings  only  where  the  benefit  would  be  obvious  and 
certain.  Only  on  this  supposition  can  we  account  for  the 
long  delay  in  establishing  a  mission  to  the  heathen  at  the 
Five  Points.  It  is  to  the  credit  of  the  religious  denomination 
known  as  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  that  they  were 
the  first  to  enter  the  then  unpromising  field ;  and  it  will  be 
an  imperishable  honor  to  the  Ladies'  Home  Missionary 
Society  of  that  church  that  with  them  the  idea  originated, 
and  by  them  has  so  successfully  been  carried  on.  In  1849, 
at  their  request,  a  missionary  was  appointed  to  labor  among 
the  unhappy  residents  of  this  famed  locality,  the  society 
engaging  to  give  him  an  adequate  salary.  Subsequently  a 
change  of  agency  seeming  desirable,  the  Society  applied  tor 
and  obtained  from  the  Bishop  the  appointment  of  the  Eev. 
'Mv.  Luckey.  Under  Mr.  Luckey's  active  care  the  mission 
has  so  far  prospered,  and  has  met  with  such  liberal  pecuniary 
aid,  that  the  crowning  triumph  has  thus  speedily  been  brought 
about,  and  the  Old  Brewery  is  virtually  no  more. 


66  LIGHT     SHINING     IN     DARKNESS. 

"  Some  years  ago  the  newspapers  made  partial  revelations 
of  the  scenes  daily  and  nightly  enacted  in  the  Old  Brewery. 
Something  more  than  personal  courage  was  then  needed  for 
an  exploration  of  those  regions  and  of  that  building.  The 
aid  of  the  police  was  essential,  and  of  the  most  intelligent, 
shrewd,  fearless  and  experienced  of  the  department.  Mur- 
derer's Alley  was  no  romance  ;  and  if  it  had  been,  the  interior 
of  the  building  was  yet  full  of  all  villainy  and  iniquity,  and 
of  wretchedness  which  at  any  moment  might  become  a 
temptation  to  the  worst  of  crimes.  It  was  a  place  of  which 
all  but  the  utterly  degraded  stood  in  fear.  The  entire  locality 
swarmed  with  those  who  prey  upon  their  fellows.  Even  in 
open  day,  citizens  avoided  the  Five  Points  if  possible,  or  if 
compelled  to  pass  through  it,  hurried  on  in  fear  of  their 
personal  safety.  By  night  none  dared  to  traverse  its  dark 
labyrinths.  It  was  a  bye-word  and  a  reproach  to  the  city. 
A  foreign  author  explored  its  horrible  enormities,  well 
guarded  by  policemen,  and  told  a  tale  that  astonished  the 
civilized  world  and  shamed  ourselves.  But  even  he  revealed 
not  the  half  that  could  have  been  storied.  The  private 
records  of  police  officers,  were  they  accessible,  would  unfold 
darker  mysteries  connected  with  the  Old  Brewery  and  the 
Five  Points  than  even  public  imagination  ever  conceived ; 
while  in  wretchedness  and  woe,  in  penury  and  want,  as  well 
as  in  low  orgies  and  drunken  revelry  in  their  most  debasing 
forma,  the  place  now  about  to  be  pulled  down  was  unequalled. 
It  is  probable, — for  how  otherwise  could  an  agent  of  good 
have  been  tolerated  in  that  pandemonium  ? — that  the  in- 
creased, systematized  efficiency  of  the  police  had  wrought 
some  melioration  and  restraint  in  that  locality  before  this 
mission  was  established,  but  the  mission  of  mercy  was  con- 
ceived before  such  melioration  was  wrought,  and  put  into 
operation  while  yet  the  streets  were  flooded  with  iniquity  and 


LIGHT     SHI  XING     I.V     DARKNESS.  67 

the  Old  Brewery  was  a  pest-house  of  vice  and  of  vilest  de 
gradation. 

"  On  Sunday  afternoon  we  visited  this  ill-famed  locality,  and 
made  a  last  iaspection  of  the  Old  Brewery.  Divine  service 
was  held  at  3  o'clock  in  the  large  tent,  pitched  in  Paradise 
Square.  There  were  present  boys  in  ragged  clothes  and  girls 
in  tattered  habiliments,  and  men  and  women  uncouthly  attired. 
But  mingled  with  these,  and  evincing  a  lively  but  unpre- 
tending interest  in  their  behalf,  were  those  of  high  and  re- 
cognized position,  nobly  giving  countenance  and  support  to 
the  great  work  of  reformation.  A  tent  necessarily  presents 
great  temptation  to  disorder  and  unsettledness,  yet  a  more 
attentive  audience  we  have  rarely  seen  ;  and  the  children  con- 
ducted themselves,  with  but  one  or  two  exceptions,  as  well  as 
the  more  favored  youths  of  a  regular  Sabbath  school.  In 
one  respect  we  certainly  have  not  seen  their  superiors — their 
docility  when  kindly  dealt  with.  In  every  instance  where 
there  was  a  disposition  to  become  restless  or  unruly,  we  found 
a  reproving  smile — the  reader  will  comprehend  our  meaning 
— all-sufficient  to  preserve  quiet  and  restore  order.  After 
the  service  we  accompanied  a  sister  of  charity — say  rather  an 
angel  of  mercy — on  her  Sabbath  afternoon  inquiries  after  the 
welfare  of  the  families  housed  in  the  Old  Brewery.  We 
dived  into  its  cellars— for  cellars  they  are,  not '  basements/ 
— and  mounted  into  its  attics,  and  peered  into  its  dark 
chambers,  and  found  that  even  there  the  mission  had  wrought 
a  most  salutary  work,  and  sweeter  music  we  never  heard  than 
the  hopeful  voice  of  our  companion,  as  with  woman's  depth 
of  feeling  she  asked  after  the  welfare  of  each  family,  calling 
the  members  of  each  by  name  ;  and  very  pleasant,  too,  were 
the  words  of  welcome  which  every  where  greeted  the  visitant. 

"  But  thanks,  a  thousand  thanks,  on  behalf  of  morality  and 
religion,  to  the  noble  generosity  of  our  citizens,  and  thanks 


68  LIGHT     SHiyiNG     IN     DARKNESS. 

no  less  to  the  Christian  heroism  and  energy  of  the  Ladies' 
Home  Missionary  Society,  that  the  dark  &nd  rrcketty  old 
building  is  to  be  entirely  removed.  Few  can  comprehend 
what  it  has  been ;  but  it  is  bad  enough  as  it  is.  There  is 
probably  not  a  stable  in  this  city  that  is  not  a  palace  in  com- 
parison with  it.  For  the  honor  of  the  city  and  of  our  com- 
mon humanity,  we  rejoice  that  its  days  are  numbered." 

"  On  the  2'7th  of  Jan.,  the  corner-stone  of  the  new 
mission  building  was  laid.  The  exercises  opened  by 
the  reading  of  the  Scriptures  by  Rev.  J.  Luckey,  the 
Missionary  there.  Rev.  Stephen  Martindale,  P.  E.,  then 
read  a  hymn  which  was  sung  by  the  congregation  ;  after 
which  prayer  was  oflfered  up  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Scott, 
of  the  First  Reformed  Dutch  Church  of  K'ewark. 
Rev,  Dr.  Holdich,  Secretary  of  the  American  Bible 
Society,  then  read  a  brief  history  of  the  operations 
of  the  Society,  at  the  Five  Points,  in  which  grateful 
and  especial  mention  was  made  of  the  success,  thus 
far,  of  the  pecuniary  efforts  of  the  Society. 

"  Rev.  Dr.  De  Witt  then  addressed  the  assemblage. 
He  said  that  it  gave  him  pleasure  to  witness  the  scene 
which  he  there  beheld,  and  to  take  a  part  in  the 
exercises  of  this  occasion.  He  had  heard  and  read 
much  of  the  enterprise  here  going  on,  and  had  felt 
a  lively  interest  in  its  progress  and  success.  He 
had   intended   to    visit  the  place,    but  circumstances 


LIGHT     SHINING     IN     DARKNESS.  69 

had  prevented ;  and  now  he  beheld  with  his  eyes  the 
fair  transformation  that  is  taking  place.  A  building 
where  vice  and  miserv  in  their  most  abhorrent  forms 
existed  has  been  leveled,  and  in  its  place  is  goino- 
up  a  new  structure  which  will,  in  part," be  devoted  to 
the  service  of  God,  in  the  beauty  of  holiness.  Here 
a  spring  of  life  will  be  opened,  with  its  purifying 
influences.  There  are  buildings  in  other  parts  of  the 
city  for  the  rich  ;  but  have  we  not  been  neglecting  the 
masses  ?  Have  we  not  been  too  much,  like  the 
Priests  and  Levites,  avoiding  the  degraded  classes? 
This  effort  in  this  locality  seems  to  have  originated 
in  the  spirit  which  actuated  the  Saviour,  and  thus 
far  to  have  been  crowned  with  His  blessing.  May 
this  be  the  origin  of  a  reviving  spirit  in  the  Churches  ! 
"  The  gospel  applies  to  all,  but  to  the  poor  and  wretch- 
ed of  this  world  it  is  especially  adapted.  The  impression 
that  those  residing  in  this  locality  were  too  degraded 
to  be  benefited  has  tended  to  paralyze  Christian  effort. 
The  gospel  is  for  the  poor,  and  it  will-  be  deteriorating 
to  the  higher  classes  if  reformatory  influences  are 
neglected  among  the  lower  classes.  Dr.  DeWitt 
referred  to  the  condition  of  Religion  in  England  at 
the  time  that  Wesley  and  Whitfield  appeared  upon 
the  field,  and  an  influence  was  awakened  in  the  evan- 


70  LIGHT     SHINING     IN     DARKNESS. 

gelical  world,  which  has  not  subsided  to  this  day. 
The  great  amount  of  good  done  in  the  world  by 
the  Moravian  United  Brethren  was  spoken  of.  Aftei 
some  further  remarks  the  speaker  closed  by  reminding 
them  that  in  their  good  work  they  could  remember 
the  dying  words  of  one  much  beloved,  '  The  best  of 
all  is,  God  is  with  us.'  Continue,  then,  the  labor  of 
love  in  the  patience  of  hope. 

"  Rev.  Dr.  Potts  spoke  of  the  Five  Points,  as  a  fes- 
tering spot  which  ought  long  ago  to  have  been  the 
scene  of  especial  Christian  efforts — but,  thanks  to  God, 
it  is  now  !  He  looked  upon  this  movement  as  one 
of  the  most  important  religious,  social  'and  municipal 
efforts  existing  in  the  City.  Let  those  who  complain 
of  the  police  expenses,  of  the  taxes,  of  the  crowding  of 
the  alms-houses,  and  of  the  prisons  bursting  with 
criminals,  not  turn  aside  when  asked  to  give  to  this 
object.  None  can  call  in  question  the  practicability 
of  cleansing  the  Five  Points,  nor  pf  the  many  Four 
Points  in  our  City  which  seriously  require  renovation. 
There  is  much  to  be  done  in  the  City  by  Home 
Missionaries.  He  hoped  that  the  practicability  of  this 
effort  would  be  established  by  the  ladies.  If  the 
public  did  not  sustain  these  local  societies  in  their 
efforts  to  keep  down  vice,  we  may  become  as  bad   as 


LIGHT     SHIXIXG     IX     DARKNESS.  7l 

London,  where  dissipated  youth  exist  to  the  number 
of  over  200,000,  who  are  called  '  City  Arabs.'  Afte^ 
some  further  remarks  Rev.  Dr.  Kennedy  addressed 
them  at  some  length.  Twenty-nine'  years  ago  he 
knew  of  this  place.  He  gave  some  reminiscences  of 
his  own  labors  at  that  time  on  this  spot.  The  first 
passage  of  Scripture  which  he  ever  undertook  publicly 
to  explain  was  in  one  of  the  alleys  of  this  spot  to  a 
dying  woman,  and  a  number  of  the  residents  gathered 
around  him.  Who  can  tell  what  influences  may 
result  from  the  operations  here  going  forward  ?  Who 
knows  what  instrument  may  be  raised  up  here  to 
promulgate  Gospel  truths  ? 

"  After  the  conclusion  of  the  addresses,  contributions 
and  a  collection  of  8400  to  8500  in  amount  were 
made.  The  audience  then  repaired  to  the  front  of 
the  new  building,  to  witness  the  ceremonies  of  laying 
the  corner-stone.  There  was  singing  by  the  children 
of  the  school,  who  were  ranged  upon  a  temporary 
floor  laid  upon  the  joists  of  the  first-story  of  the 
building ;  and  there  was  a  large  audience  present  to 
witness  the  ceremonies. 

"  After  reading  a  list    of  the  articles  deposited  in  the 

box,  placed  in   the  cavity   of  the   corner-stone.   Bishop 

ones   rem'trked    upon    the    objects    of  the    building. 


72  LIGHT     5HININ&     IN     DARKNESS. 

'Education  is  to  be  promoted — therefore  here  is  tc 
be  a  free  school-room  ;  virtue  and  temperance  are  to 
be  advanced,  and  here  we  have  a  lecture-room  ;  the 
salvation  of  immortal  souls  is  an  end  in  view,  and 
there  will  be  a  chapel  in  this  edifice ;  and  as  temporal 
blessings  will  be  an  object,  here  will  be  accommodation 
for  the  sick  and  needy.'  The  Bishop  then  proceeded 
to  lay  the  corner-stone,  saying  :  "  For  the  j^romotion 
of  Education,  of  Virtue  and  of  Religion,  and  to 
promote  the  best  interests  of  men,  and  the  glory  of 
God,  we  now  lay  the  Corner-Stone  of  this  edifice, 
in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost. 

"  Rev.  iN'athan  Bangs,  D.  D.,  then  pronounced  the 
benediction  ;  after  which  the  audience  separated,  the 
service,  novel  in  that  neighborhood,  having  passed 
without  interruption." 

Slowly  the  building  arose  upon  the  foundation,  thus 
laid.  At  length  its  completion  was  announced,  and 
preparations  were  made  for  the  dedication.  "  The  Daily 
Times"  thus  describes  the  services  of  the  occasion,  which 
took  place  June  18th,  1853. 


LIGHT    SHIXING    IN'    DARKNESS.  73 


Erected  on  tlie  site  of  the  Old  Brewery,  was  opened  yester- 
day afternoon  with  religious  services,  as  the  centre  of  mis- 
sionary and  humanitarian  enterprise  in  that  infected  district 
of  the  city.  JSTotwithstanding  the  excessive  inclemency  of 
the  weather,  a  very  numerous  and  highly  respectable  audi- 
ence, assembled  in  the  chapel  of  the  Mission  House.  The 
children  of  the  schools  attached  to  the  Mission  were  also  in 
the  room,  and  sang  some  simple  hymns  during  and  after  the 
services. 

After  the  usual  religious  exercises,  the  Eev.  Dr.  Floy  de- 
livered an  appropriate  discourse,  taking  for  his  text  the  fol- 
lowing words  :  "I  beseech  thee  show  me  thy  glory."  Exodus 
xxxiii.  18. 

After  referring  to  the  dedication,  it  says  : — "  The  cere- 
mony is  over — the  ceremony,  but  not  the  results.  The  be^ 
ginning  is  small  enough,  perhaps,  but  it  is  a  great  step  taken. 
Let  us  look  back  a  few  years,  and  see  what  the  Old  Brewery 
was.  That  it  was  the  nest  of  crime ;  that  the  worst  pas- 
sions which  deform  our  common  human  nature  had  there 
their  sowing-time  and  their  fruit-season  :  that  young  children 
were  there  immolated  to  Moloch,  and  men  and  women  of 
ripe  years  were  transplanted  thence  to  bloom  upon  the  gal- 
lows, is  not  half  the  truth, — is  but  a  small  portion  of  it. 
There  were  deeds  done  in  the  body  that  will  only  be  revealed 
in  the  spirit,  when  the  Book  of  Accounts  shall  be  opened. 
The  foulest  crimes  were  hatched,  and  fostered,  and  often  de- 
veloped there.  There  was  the  home  of  the  assassin,  the 
thief,  and  the  prostitute.  Riot  swaggered  and  drunkenness 
staggered  thence,  bent  on  brawls  and  brutalities ;  and  up 
those  curious    stairs   and  along   those  winding  passages, — 

4 


74  LIGHT     SHINING     IN     DARKNESS. 

through  nests  of  chambers  ingeniously  contrived  to  prevent 
the  escape  of  the  victim  or  elude  the  search  of  his  friends, 
has  been  borne  many  and  many  an  unhappy  wretch,  who  by 
his  friends  was  never  heard  of  again,  and  never  will  be  heard 
of  till  the  morning  of  the  resurrection.  The  old  Brewery 
was,  at  one  time  of  its  history,  not  excelled  by  any  haunt  in 
London  or  Paris,  as  the  lazar-house  and  infectious  centre  of 
crime. 

"  It  is  gone :  it  is  now  a  matter  of  history.  '\^ere  it 
stood,  a  church  has  been  erected,  with  a  house  for  the  preach- 
er, school-rooms  for  the  ignorant,  bath-rooms  for  the  dirty, 
and  tenements — clean,  wholesome,  and  inviting — for  the 
homeless.  Such  a  change  has  been  affected  by  a  few  earnest, 
pious  ladies,  who  have  succeeded  the  apostles — who  teach 
Christianity  not  by  words  only,  but  by  deeds ;  who  think 
it  not  enough  to  counsel  the  erring  to  sin  no  more,  but 
who  take  them  by  the  hand,  and  lead  them  to  the  pleasant 
places. 

"  Honor  to  them  if  they  desire  it ;  but  they  do  not.  They 
solicit  help,  not  honor.  And  who  will  honor  himself  by 
helping  them  ? 

"  That  the  aid  extended  to  these  ladies  will  not  sink  into 
the  earth  for  lack  of  fruit,  we  may  assure  ourselves  by  what 
has  already  been  done  by  them.  In  the  tenements  provided 
for  the  desolate  class  of  beings  who  occupied  the  chambers 
of  the  Old  Brewery  when  it  was  tolerably  purged  of  crime 
and  was  the  habitation  merely  of  misery — which  was  after 
public  attention  had  been  awakened  to  it,  and  just  before  it 
was  pulled  down — we  found  resident  yesterday  an  orderly 
class,  who  know  the  virtues  of  water,  and  are  not  disdainful 
of  a  well-swept  floor,  aud,  in  their  little  way,  of  a  well-ap- 
pointed household.  A  few  ornaments  some  of  them  had  ; 
and — start  them  on  the  right  road  and  a  love  of  nature  will 


LIGHT    SHI5ING    IN    DARKNESS.  75 

creep  in — in  two  apartments  we  beheld  flowers.  And  these 
were  the  same  people,  many  of  them,  who  were  found  in  the 
Old  Brewery  when  it  was  demolished.  Such  a  change  can 
any  successor  of  the  apostles  bring  to  pass,  if  he  or  she  will 
it,  and  work  for  it. 

"  We  looked  into  the  school-room.  Children  who  had 
friends,  and  children  who  had  none — in  whose  faces  God  had 
not  written  thief,  murderer,  or  harlot,  but  who,  if  left  to 
themselves,  would  probably  have  hereafter  become  one,  or 
both,  or  all — these  little  men  and  women  interested  us  deeply. 
They  sang  some  verses  for  our  behoof,  at  the  bidding  of  the 
excellent  directress  of  the  institution.  They  lisped  with  tiny 
voices,  '  I  love  to  go  to  the  Mission-School,'  and  though  it 
seemed  to  us  that  perhaps  the  warmth  of  their  singing  was 
no  proof  of  the  sincerity  of  their  hearts,  yet  we  were  glad 
to  accept  that  evidence  of  the  rescuing  hand  which  had 
withdrawn  them  from  the  defilement  of  the  streets." 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE     MISSION     ■WORK. 

"  That  one  saying  of  oir  Lord  Jesns  Christ  '  There  Is  .}oy  In  heavea 
over  one  sinner  that  repentefh,' has  done  more  for  suffering  humanity,  more 
for  the  masses  of  guiltj"^  perishing  men  in  this  Tvorld  than  all  the  schemes 
of  benevolence  that  have  originated  in  any  quarter." — Olin. 

After  the  establishment  of  the  Mission,  months 
rolled  away,  months  of  unceasing  prayer  and  effort  by 
those  most  deeply  interested  in  its  welfare  ;  much  was 
accomplished,  very  much.  The  temperance  movement, 
was  abundantly  successful.  The  day  and  Sunday 
schools  were  in  successful  operation.  In  outward  ap- 
pearance the  reformation  of  that  region  was  truly 
great ;  yet,  at  the  close  of  the  first  year,  we  were  con- 
strained to  write  thus: — 

"We  are  standing  now  at  a  point  of  intensest  interest. 
The  way  has  been  clearly  opened,  the  ground  is  marvelously 
prepared ;  mature  plans  are  in  operation,  warm  hearts  have 
enlisted  all  their  energies,  the  necessary  funds  await  our  call, 
and  yet  we  pause.  Why?  We  ask  the  question,  we  wish 
the  question  asked — Why  ?  Because,  as  yet, '  the  Spirit  has 
not  been  poured  out  from  on  high.'  The  anxious  inquiry, 
'What  must  we  do  to  be  saved  ?'  is  not  heard.  We  are  waiting 


THE     MISSION     WORK.  77 

■watching,  and  praying  for  the  sigh  of  penitence,  the  manifesta- 
tion of  remorse,  the  fear  of  judgment.  The  seed  is  sowing ; 
there  is  a  struggle  in  many  a  heart,  tears  are  shed  iii  secret 
places;  but  brethren,  friends  of  the  mission,  until  all  this 
issues  in  clear,  midoubted  conversions,  we  have  no  sure 
footing." 

This  was  the  abiding  feeling  of  the  missionaries,  class- 
leader,  and  the  ladies'  board,  as  month  after  month  the 
former  toiled,  and  the  latter  listened  to  reports  of  alter- 
nate discouragement  and  hope.  Conversions  were  cau- 
tiously reported,  because  of  the  peculiar  ignorance  and 
degradation  of  the  subjects. 

At  a  quarterly  meeting,  held  during  the  second  year, 
the  class-leader,  Mr.  North,  gave  a  most  interesting 
account  of  the  class,  of  their  gradual  increase  in  know- 
ledge, of  their  advance  week  by  week  in  spiritual  light 
and  experience,  from  the  first  faint  conviction  which 
led  them  to  join,  through  the  successive  stages  of 
penitence,  faith,  pardon,  and  the  exulting  joy  which 
followed.  He  said,  it  had  been  clear,  marked,  decided 
in  every  instance,  and  expressed  his  most  entire  confi- 
dence in  their  present  religious  experience. 

Two  weeks  after,  the  members  having  stood  their  six 
months'  probation,  the  Church  was  organized  by  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Luckey,  and  they  were  received  into  full 
membership.     The  23  rd   of  November  dawned  clear 


78  THEMISSIONWORK. 

and  bright,  and  many  friends  hastened  to  the  mission 
room,  to  be  partakers  in  a  scene  which  fulfilled  their 
warmest  hopes,  which  realized  their  fondest  antici- 
pations. The  Sabbath  school  was  convened  as  usual, 
and  was  remarkably  quiet  and  attentive.  The  room 
was  soon  filled  by  an  audience  of  a  mixed  description, 
but  the  utmost  solemnity  and  decorum  prevailed.  We 
could  not  restrain  our  emotion,  as  the  emblems  of  re- 
demption's finished  work  were,  for  the  first  time  in  that 
region,  spread  before  the  eyes  of  the  people, — there, 
where  sin  had  reigned — for  years  had  had  unbroken 
triumph — had  slain  its  thousands  and  its  tens  of  thou- 
sands, as  though  the  Saviour  had  not  died,  and  lived 
again.  But  now  the  spell  was  broken,  redeeming  grace 
had  shown  its  utmost  power,  for  here  were  men  and 
women  rescued  from  the  most  sottish  intemperance, 
from  the  deepest  moral  degradation  into  which  human 
beings  can  sink,  reformed,  converted,  made  "  sons  of 
God,  and  heirs  of  everlasting  life." 

Mr.  Luckey  preached  a  most  appropriate  and  im- 
pressive sermon,  from  "Do  this  in  remembrance  of 
me  ;"  after  which  the  names  of  ten  persons  were  called 
who  immediately  surrounded  the  altar,  and,  after  a 
suitable  exhortation,  received  the  right-hand  of  fellow- 


THE    MISSION    WORK.  79 

ship  from  their  pastor,  to  do  the  same,  which  with 
much  emotion  he  did. 

After  the  usual  service  was  read,  Mr.  Luctey  re- 
quested the  new  converts  to  surround  the  first  table 
together.  Together  they  had  wept,  and  striven,  and 
prayed ;  together  they  should  commemorate  their  deli- 
verance, and  anticipate  their  blood  bought  victory, 
when  together  they  should  drink  new  wine  in  their 
Father's  kingdom.  A  solemn  influence  rested  upon  the 
congregation ;  the  children  seemed  awed  into  perfect 
silence,  and  even  at  the  "  Five  Points,"  we  said,  "  Lo  ! 
God  is  here  !  let  us  adore,"  and  with  feelings  too  deep 
for  expression,  the  friends  of  the  Mission  succeeded  those 
with  whom  they  were  thus  made  "  one  in  Christ,"  in 
commemorating  the  dying  love  which  had  rescued  each 
and  all.  With  a  solemn,  earnest  benediction  the  scene 
closed,  never,  never  to  be  erased  from  the  memory  of 
some,  to  whom  it  will  ever  remain  an  era  of  solemn 
feeling,  of  reahzed  hopes,  of  joyous  anticipations. 


80  THEMISSIONWORK. 

The  New  Mission  House  is  a  substantial  five  story 
edifice,  built  of  brick,  twenty -five  feet  front  and  forty 
five  deep.  The  entire  expense  of  its  erection  is 
$36,000,  of  which  $23,000  have  been  paid.  The 
principal  building  is  the  chapel  which  will  com- 
fortably seat  five  hundred  persons.  It  is  neatly  fitted 
up  and  in  every  way  suited  for  the  purpose  for  which 
it  is  intended — the  worship  of  God  by  the  outcasts 
redeemed  from  the  streets.  Services  are  held  here  three 
times  each  Sabbath  day,  and  on  three  nights  in  each 
w^eek.  Adjoining  the  chapel  is  a  neat  parsonage  where 
the  Missionary  and  his  family  reside.  Over  the  chapel 
are  twenty  tenements,  consisting  of  three  rooms  each, 
in  which  poor  and  deserving  families  are  provided  with 
.  very  comfortable  accommodations  at  the  low  rent  of 
five  dollars  a  month.  Beneath  the  chapel  is  a  large 
school-room,  fitted  up  with  handsome  desks,  one  for 
each  pupil.  A  School-room  for  the  Infant  Class  where 
from  fifty  to  seventy  are  in  daily  attendance,  and  two 
rooms  for  the  bath  and  wardrobes,  occupy  the  remainder 
of  the  ground  floor. 

With  enlarged  accommodations,  the  Society  hope  to 


THE     MISSION     WORK.  81 

employ  other  agencies  for  the  moral  and  social  elevation 
of  the  degraded  poor.  They  intend,  as  soon  as  the 
benevolence  of  the  public  allows  them  to  enlarge  the 
sphere  of  their  operations,  to  extend  their  building  in  the 
rear,  and  there  to  open  a  room  where  work  will  be 
given  to  the  poor,  and  a  temporary  hospital  where  those, 
who  are  suffering  from  disease,  or  are  without  shelter, 
may  be  taken  in,  visited  and  cared  for.  Another  plan 
which  the  Missionary  intends  to  carry  into  effect  this 
winter  is  the  opening  of  a  reading-room,  to  be  supplied 
with  papers,  periodicals  and  useful  and  attractive 
volumes,  where  the  laboring  man  may  spend  an  hour 
so  usefully  and  happily  that  he  may  lose  all  ta^te  foi 
the  low  haunts  of  ignorance  and  vice. 

These  plans,  "  the  past  being  the  best  prophet  of  the 
future,"  we  hope  to  see  effectively  carried  out,  and 
working  their  kindly  mission — ^in  this,  the  lowest  strata 
of  society.  We  give  some  of  the  present  aspects  of  the 
Mission  in  a  simple  narration  of  what  we  saw  and  heard 
there  on  the  third  Sabbath  in  November. 

As  we  entered,  the  children  of  the  Infant  Class,  were 
singing  their  sweet  hymns  and  twelve  or  fourteen  men 
and  women  were  seated  in  the  Bible  Class  room,  listen 
ing  attentively  to  the  instructions  of  their  teacher,  Mr. 
Fessenden.     The  school  was  smaller  than  usual,  and  on 


82  THEMISSIONWORK. 

inquiry,  we  found  that  the  Missionary,  the  Rev  Mr. 
Adams,  had  been  invited  to  address  a  Missionary  meet- 
ing in  the  Pacific  street  church  in  Brooklyn,  and  to 
bring  over  a  delegation  from  the  Mission  Sunday  school. 
Accompanied  by  Mr.  Peet,  the  teacher  of  the  day  school, 
he  took  a  number  of  the  children  over.  Most  cordially 
and  kindly  were  they  received.  A  donation  of  $100 
was  given  to  the  Mission,  and  the  innocent  face  and 
sweet  singing  of  little  Charley,  one  of  the  infant  scholars, 
attracting  general  attention,  a  kind  thought  srpang 
up  in  some  generous  heart  and  met  with  ready  favor, 
and  a  hundred  dollars  a  year  for  four  years  was  pledged 
to  educate  some  hopeful  child  to  be  selected  from  the 
Mission  School. 

The  chapel  was  filled  with  a  large  congregation 
representing  all  the  j^hases  of  social  life,  when  Mr. 
Adams  returned  in  time  to  commence  the  afternoon 
service.  Every  eye  was  fixed  upon  the  preacher,  and 
tears  flowed  freely,  as  he  spoke  to  them  simply  but 
touchingly  from  the  words,  "Lord  evermore  give  us 
this  bread."  As  the  body  cannot  live  without  bread, 
the  soul  can  have  no  spiritual  life  \Nathout  that  living- 
bread  that  cometh  down  from  heaven — we  need  this 
bread  daily — there  must  be  a  daily  communication  of 
grace  from  above — bread  is  the  food  of  all  the  nations 


THKMISSIONWORK.  83 

of  the  earth,  and  so  this  bread  of  life,  Christ  in  the 
heart  of  man,  is  adapted  to  all  tastes.  Of  bread  we 
never  tire,  the  old  man  eats  it  with  the  same  relish  that 
he  did  when  a  boy — it  never  cloys  the  appetite,  and 
60  this  bread  of  life,  this  grace  of  God  is  always  new, 
always  satisfying  the  hunger  of  the  soul.  As  bread 
gives  strength  ;  so  this  living  bread  gives  life  and  im- 
mortality. These  were  his  leading  topics,  and  the 
abundant  and  appropriate  illustrations  with  which  he 
illuminated  his  subject  evidently  went  home  to  the 
hearts  of  his  hearers — even  the  children  listened  with 
an  eaofer  interest  which  showed  that  thev  too  could 
understand  the  words  of  the  preacher.  The  whole 
congregation  joined  in  the  closing  hymn  and  quietly 
retired. 

In  the  evening  when  the  people  assembled  for  prayer- 
meeting  in  the  large  school-room,  the  place  was  found 
too  small  for  them,  and  the  chapel  was  lighted ;  more 
than  two  hundred  persons,  most  of  them  "  genuine 
Five  Pointers,"  being  present.  There  were  the  children, 
who  after  being  at  church  and  Sunday  school  twice  in  the 
dav,  were  all  there  uninvited  in  the  eveninsr — there  were 
the  members  of  the  Mission,  respectably  dressed,  show- 
ing by  their  outward  aspect  and  bearing,  the  change 
religion  had  wrought — there  were  seated  together    ten 


84  THEMISSIONWORK. 

or  twelve  lads,  from  sixteen  to  eighteen  years  of  age, 
who  had  strayed  in,  and  were  very  serious  and  attentive 
— and  there  were  heads  grown  gray  in  tl  .  service  of 
sin — poor  wrecks  of  humanity.  The  story  of  the 
Prodigal  Son,  as  related  by  Mr.  Adams — his  want  and 
misery  in  that  far  off  land — his  determination  to  come 
to  his  father  in  his  rags  and  wretchedness — was  singularly 
apjoropriate  to  that  assembly,  and  after  the  close  of  the 
services  one  man  without  a  coat  and  with  a  face  bloated 
by  intemperance,  lingered  till  the  congregation  had 
retired,  and  then  walked  up  the  aisle  and  asked  the 
Missionary  to  pray  for  him.  "  Sir,"  he  said,  "  when  you 
told  of  the  Prodigal  Son,  I  did  not  breathe  for  two 
minutes."  Mr.  Adams  had  some  conversation  with  him 
and  he  left  promising  to  be  there  again  on  Tuesday 
evening. 

It  was  interesting  to  look  at  the  group  of  faces 
solemnized  by  the  influences  of  the  sacre ""  services,  and 
to  remember  from  what  depths  of  sin  they  had  been 
rescued.  It  was  comforting,  too,  to  remember  that  as 
their  "  day  is  so"  their  "  strength  shall  be,"  and  that  the 
merciful  Saviour  who  breaks  not  the  bruised  reed,  will 
be  especially  mindful  of  these  returning  wanderers. 
One  old  black  woman  who  has   repented  of  her   sins 


THEMISSIONWORK.  &5 

and  believed  in  Christ,  is  letting  her  light  shine  even  in 
Cow  Bay,  and  from  that  den  of  iniquity  she  brought 
six  of  her  neighbors  to  the  evening  prayer-meeting.  With 
another  woman  from  the  same  vicinity  familiarly  known 
as  "  Debby,"  the  Missionary  had  conversed  upon  the  great 
truths  which  he  holds  forth  to  these  people,  and  which 
she  professed  not  to  believe.  In  his  sermon,  a  short 
time  after,  having  dwelt  on  these  truths,  he  earnestly 
asked  as  he  looked  around  upon  the  people  "  Do  you 
beheve  this  ?"  Debby  imagining  herself  to  be  addressed, 
rose  up,  and  solemnly  said,  "  Yes  I  do  believe  every 
word  of  it."  "  Then  will  you  try  and  be  good  ?"  said  the 
preacher,  somewhat  amused  at  the  interruption  and 
touched  by  the  simplicity  and  sincerity  of  the  poor 
ignorant  woman,  who  replied — "  By  the  help  of  God  I 
will,"  and  took  her  seat.  "  Elsewhere,"  said  the  mis- 
sionary "  I  should  have  been  disconcerted  by  such  an 
incident,  but  here  one  is  not  astonished  by  slight  devi- 
ations from  the  ordinary  law  of  proprieties." 

But  to  return  to  the  prayer-meeting, — among  those 
who  prayed,  and  spoke  with  simplicity  and  feeling  was 
one,  whose  "father's  prayers  had  reached  over  the 
ocean,"  and  had  been  heard  in  his  behalf — another, 
who  trained  in  a  Methodist  Sunday  school,  in  the  old 
country,  had,  on  his  arrival  here    made  shipwreck  of 


86  THEMISSIONWORK 

his  prospects  and  his  hopes  in  the  great  gulph  of  in- 
temperance— he  came  to  a  prayer-meeting  last  sum- 
mer, partially  intoxicated,  and  signed  the  pledge,  and 
was  wretched  the  next  morning  when  he  found  that 
he  had  committed  himself.  After  some  conversation 
with  Mr.  Adams,  he  became  a  regular  attendant  at  the 
chapel,  and  the  blessed  influence  of  other  days,  soften- 
ing his  heart,  he  resolved  once  more  to  seek  the  God 
of  his  fathers.  From  that  time,  he  has  been  steady 
and  prayerful,  and  though  his  wife  is  sadly  intemper- 
ate, he  has  ceased  to  do  evil,  and  is  learning  to  do  well. 
There  was  an  old  blind  man  too,  who  said  that  praying 
without  the  Spirit,  was  like  wandering  in  the  woods 
without  a  compass,  or  like  a  blind  man  seeking  the 
door  of  a  large  building. 

The  class-meetings  on  Thursday  evening,  are  still 
more  interesting  than  the  prayer-meetings.  They  are 
attended  only  by  those  who  are  walking  in  the  good 
path,  or  who  are  seeking  to  enter  it.  About  thirty  of 
these  people  meet  together  to  speak-of  their  difficul- 
ties and  trials,  or  to  express  their  gratitude  for  that 
heavenly  grace  which  has  dehvered  them  from  the 
yawning  destruction,  and  has  given  them  a  good  hope 
of  eternal  hfe.  It  is  surely  the  great  power  of  God 
that  can  work  such  changes  even  here,  that  can  enable 


THE    MISSION    "^ORK.  87 

these  people  to  break  away  from  their  habits  of  sin, 
and  to  walk  in  the  narrow  way  that  leads  to  eternal 
life.  These  social  meetings  are  for  them  peculiarly 
needed.  They  must  be  watched  over — and  warned,  and 
counselled  that  they  tm-n  not  to  the  right  hand,  nor  to  the 
left — and  the  weekly  class-meeting  brings  its  hour  of 
close  self-examination,  to  see  whether  they  be  in  the 
faith — to  prove  their  own  selves. 

Varied  are  the  demands  upon  the  Missionary,  leaving 
him  scarce  any  time  of  preparation  for  the  pulpit — his 
former  preparations  availing  him  nothing  here,  as  he 
has  been  obliged  to  simplify  his  modes  of  thought  an  d 
speech  to  be  fully  comprehended  by  his  hearers.  They 
complain  when  strangers  occupy  the  pulpit,  that  they 
do  not  understand  the  sermons.  "The  common  peo- 
ple heard  Jesus  gladly"  as  He  spake  to  them  in  para- 
bles, and  this  messenger  in  Christ's  name  has,  found 
that  truth  can  be  better  understood  and  retained  in 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  this  "  peculiar  people,"  when  he 
conveys  it  to  them  through  some  anecdote  or  familiar 
illustration.  During  the  week,  as  the  almoner  of  pub- 
lic bounty,  he  has  constant  applications  for  relief,  and 
he  is  brought  into  contact,  at  every  point,  with  the  vice 
and  misery  of  this  wretched  place.  Great  need  has  he 
of  patience  and  careful  examination  as  to  the  real  ob- 


88  THE    MlSSIOHf     WORK. 

jects  of  cliarity,  and  wMle  much  that  is  scattered,  is 
like  "  bread  sown  upon  the  waters  that  may  only  be 
found  after  many  days,"  in  some  instances,  he  is  cheer- 
ed by  reaping  the  present  reward  of  his  labors.  One 
of  these  instances,  was  related  to  us  by  the  Missionary . 
"  Not  long  since,"  said  Mr.  Adams,  "  as  I  was  sit 
ting  in  the  office,  a  poor-looking  Jew,  with  the  longest 
possible  face,  and  most  wo-begone  expression,  came  in 
and  asked  me  if  I  could  do  "  something  for  him."  I 
told  him  I  that  did  not  know  what  he  wanted.  He  said, 
"  I  wants  some  clothes  to  make  me  look  so  as  people 
will  like  me,  and  give  me  work."  "  What  is  your  bus- 
iness ?"  said  I.  "  I  am  glazier  ;  but  my  diamond  is  in 
de  pawn-shop,  and  I  has  not  de  means  to  get  it  out,  so 
as  I  can  work."  "  Where  do  you  live  ?"  "  Around  in 
de  next  street ;  but  I  is  very  poor,  and  cannot  get  any 
sleep  all  tree  nights.  I  wish  you  could  give  me  some 
place  to  sleep."  I  told  him  I  would  help  him  in  some 
way.  He  brightened  up  at  this,  and  I  asked  him,  "  Do 
you  love  Jesus  ?"  "  No  !"  "  Do  you  believe  in  him  ?" 
"  No  !"  "  Do  you  believe  in  God  2"  "  Yes  !  but  not 
Jesus.  No !  no  !  not  Jesus  !"  "  Do  you  believe  the 
New  Testament?"  "No!"  "Well,  come  with  me," 
said  I,  as  he  followed  me  to  the  wardrobe,  where  I 
clothed  him,  and  then  enq^uired.     "  Do  you  think  Na- 


THEMISSIONWORK.  89 

lure  a  sufficient  teacher  ?"  "  Yes  !  do  you  know  my 
faith  ?"  I  said  I  did  not.  "  Well,  den,  I  am  pantheist, 
and  don't  believe  notino-."  "It  was  the  religion  of 
Jesus,"  I  replied,  "  that  put  it  into  the  hearts  of  Chris- 
tians to  send  these  clothes  to  me  for  you,  and  then  put 
it  into  my  heart  to  give  them  to  you,  and  (handing 
him  some  silver)  gave  others,  and  me  a  heart  to  give 
you  this  ?  Do  you  not  think  there  is  something  in  the 
religion  of  Jesus  2"  "  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  shaking 
his  head  ;  but  as  he  was  going  out,  I  saw  the  big  tear 
roll  down  his  cheek.  I  was  deeply  moved  with  his 
cold,  cheerless  unbelief,  and  as  I  knew  not  how  to  meet 
his  many  objections  to  the  religion  of  Jesus,  I  the  more 
earnestly  prayed  for  him. 

It  was  some  time  before  I  saw  him  again  ;  and  when 
I  did,  he  said  he  was  sick,  and  I  sent  him  to  Doctor 
McNaire,  who  examined  him,  and  found  his  liver  some- 
what affected  ;  though  convinced,  as  he  has  since  told 
me,  that  his  trouble  was  more  of  the  mind  than  the 
body.  He  came  back  to  me  from  the  Doctor,  and  said 
he  "  felt  very  bad."  I  at  onoe  began  the  old  story. 
"  You  must  be  converted — the  blood  of  Jesus  can 
alone  take  away  your  sins,  and  without  it,  you  will  be 
lost  after  all  your  good  thoughts,"  He  sighed  deeply, 
and  I  spoke  earnestly  to  him  showing  him  that  imme- 


90  THEMISSIONWORK. 

diate  reconciliation  with  God  through  Jesus  Christ  was 
his  only  way  of  escape.  I  was  called  away,  and  when 
I  came  back,  he  was  gone. 

Some  time  elapsed  before  I  saw  him  again,  and  then 
I  met  him  in  the  street.  I  asked  him  how  he  felt,  and 
to  my  great  surprise  and  wonder,  his  only  answer  was, 
"  I  tink  I  need  de  blood  of  Jesus."  "Without  another 
word,  I  went  on  my  way,  thinking  that  the  Spirit  was 
doing  the  work,  and  needed  me  not.  Some  days  after, 
I  met  him  full  of  smiles,  with  the  queerest  expression 
of  face  imaginable  ;  a  tear  standing  in  each  eye,  and 
his  mouth  in  a  half  laugh,  half  cry  form.  "  How  do 
you  do  ?"  said  I.  With  deep  earnestness,  he  replied : — 
"  I  feels  such  a  loveness  to  Jesus,  I  could  not  sleep  last 
night."  "  Do  you  believe  the  Bible,  now  ?"  I  asked. 
"Yes  !  I  believe,  but  I  do  not  understand."  "  Are  you 
sure  your  sins  are  all  forgiven  ?"  Laying  his  hand  on 
his  breast  he  said,  "  0,  yes  !  I  know  it  here." 

Mr.  Adams  closed  the  narration  with  a  prayer  that 
this  stranger  who,  "  feeling  after  the  unknown  God"  had 
found  a  compassionate  and  mighty  Saviour,  might  be 
kept  from  aU  evil — -and  with  a  thanksgiving  for  the 
power  which  made  so  few  words  fitly  spoken,  so  won- 
drously  efficacious. 

He  gave  another  incident  of  his  Mission  work. 


THEMISSI  oil    WORK.  91 

On  the  morning  of  tlie  26tli  of  July,  as  Mr.  Adams 
was  seated  in,  his  office,  a  woman  with  a  little  girl,  came 
in,  shabbily  dressed,  and  looking  wo-begone  and 
dejected.  After  a  few  moments  conversation  he  found 
from  her  simple  and  elegant  language  that  she  must 
hare  known  better  times,  and  he  told  her  that  he 
thought  that  she  was  more  than  her  appearance  indi- 
cated. She  burst  into  tears,  and  told  him  her  story. 
She  was  born  in  Dublin,  of  respectable  parents,  and 
had  the  advantage  of  a  good  common  education.  She 
married  at  an  early  age  with  very  good  prospects 
for  happiness,  but  her  husband  unfortunately  contract- 
ed bad  habits,  and  the  consequence  was  that  a  snug 
fortune  of  sixteen  hundred  pounds  was  very  speedily 
dissipated.  He  died  three  months  before  the  birth 
of  her  youngest  child,  and  at  the  invitation  of  her 
brother  then  doing  business  in  this  city,  she  arrived 
here.  This  brother  paid  her  rent,  and  she  took  a  few 
boarders,  but  he  fell  into  habits  of  dissipation  and  soon 
neglected  her.  He  married  a  woman  of  bad  character 
and  sank  lower  and  lower  in  vice — then  left  the 
city,  and  she  had  not  heard  from  him  since. 

"  Woes  cluster,  rare  are  solitary  woes."  At  this  time 
her  ■^dest  daughter  a  fine  girl  of  sixteen,  her  comfort 
and   ler  pride,  was  taken  ill,  of  typhus  fever,  and  after 


92  THE     MISSION      WORK. 

■wearisome  days  and  nights  the  broken  hearted  mother 
closed  her  eyes  in  death.  She  too,  worn  with  watch- 
ing and  sorrow,  was  sizeed  with  the  same  disease,  and 
with  no  kindred  or  friends  to  smooth  her  pillow  and 
minister  to  her  wants,  she  was  under  the  necessity  of 
going  to  the  hospital. 

She  recovered  and  returned  to  her  room,  but  found 
that  during  her  absence  many  of  her  things  had 
been  taken  away,  and  were  not  to  be  found.  Since 
that  time  she  had  lived  by  selling  and  pawning  her 
articles  of  furniture,  till  she  was  now  utterly  destitute. 
She  occupied  a  room  in  buildings  which  were  being 
torn  down,  and  as  boys  came  at  night  and  tore  away 
th«  bricks  to  get  at  the  wood,  she  lived  in  constant 
fear. 

The  Missionary  looked  at  her  wan  pale  face,  and 
asked  her  how  long  it  was  since  she  had  tasted  food. 
For  two  days  she  had  eaten  nothing.  He  had 
just  dined,  and  he  took  her  at  once  into  the  dining 
room,  and  seated  her  and  her  little  girl  at  the  table. 
There  was  a  nice  beaf-steak,  and  as  he  filled  their 
plates,  and  saw  the  appetite  with  which  they  almost 
devoured  the  food  set  before  them,  he  experienced  a 
satisfaction  which  he  said,  he  was  sure  those  who  fared 


THE    MISSION-WORK.  93 

sumptuously  every  day  never  experienced  at  their 
lordly  feasts. 

Mr.  Adams  at  once  gare  lier  a  room  in  tlie  Mission 
building  until  some  permanent  measures  could  be 
adopted  for  her  relief.  A  situation  could  easily  have 
been  obtained  for  her,  but  she  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  being  separated  from  her  little  girl  who 
was  only  six  years  of  age  and  needed  a  mother's  care. 
She  is  now  in  a  good  place  in  Brooklyn  where  she 
has  plenty  of  work — sewing  and  embroidery,  in  which 
she  excels. 

A  little  timely  relief,  like  a  word  spoken  in  due 
season — 'how  good  is  it  ?  and  daily  opportunity  is  afford- 
ed to  extend  such  relief  in  visits  to  these  houses  with 
their  "  teeming  load  of  life" — in  "  many  a  garret," 
where  one  may  see  "  the  patience,  and  the  fortitude, 
and  the  self-sacrifice,  and  the  love  stronger  than  death 
shining  in  those  dark  places  of  the  earth." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE     REFORMED     INEBRIATE. 

*  Strive  to  day,  one  effort  more  may  prove  that  thou  art  free, 
Here  is  faith  and  prayer,  here  is  the  Grace  and  the  Atonement. 
Here  is  the  creature  feeling  for  its  God,  the  prodigal  returning 

to  his  Father."  Tijppee. 

Amid  the  many  evils  which  stood  in  formidable  array- 
to  impede  the  efforts  made  by  the  Ladies'  Home  Mission- 
ary Society,  to  benefit  the  wretched  inhabitants  of  the 
Five  Points  ;  that  of  intemperance  was  foremost  and  most 
gigantic.  It  seemed  to  be  the  root  from  which  every 
other  evil  grew,  and  its  universal  prevalence  was  fearful 
in  the  extreme.  How  to  meet  and  overcome  it,  wa3 
one  of  the  earliest  questions  discussed.  A  Temperance 
Society  was  immediately  formed — temperance  meetings 
were  held — interesting  addresses  made — popular  songs 
were  sung — and  good  results  soon  followed  from  these 
efforts.  Many  were  induced  to  take  the  pledge,  many 
kept  it.  But,  alas  !  many  relapsed  and  preached  anew 
the  lesson,  that  fallen  man,  unaided  by  the  grace  of 
God  is  perfect  weakness.     Over  some,  we  were  called. 


THE  REFORMED  INEBRIATE.       95 

to  weep ;  after  weeks,  yea,  montlas  of  amendment  had 
given  promise  of  permanent  success — over  others,  we 
have  been  permitted  to  rejoice  with  an  abiding  joy. 

We  shall  narrate  some  circumstances  connected  with 
the  history  of  one  of  the  latter  class,  as  the  test  of  a  year 
and  a  half  has  made  us  rather  confident  in  the  reality 
of  his  amendment.  The  Missionary,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Luckey,  was  sitting  in  his  office  in  the  Old  Brewery, 
(soon  after  its  purchase  by  the  Society,  in  May,  1852,) 
when  a  tall,  dark  complexioned,  and  intelligent  look- 
ing, middle  aged  man  came  staggering  in ;  and  in  a 
wild  incoherent  manner,  said  : — "  Sir — sir,  you  are 
a  just  and  good  man,  and  therefore,  I  come  to  beg  you 
to  go  and  help  me  get  back  my  boots."  Mr.  Luckey 
asked  him  to  take  a  seat,  and  quietly  tell  him  his  dif- 
ficulty. He  soon  learned  from  him,  that  he  had  been 
engaged  in  a  drunken  frolic  for  some  three  weeks.  (He 
had  been  accustomed  for  several  years,  to  have 
such  sprees  once  in  about  three  months,  and  had  thus 
spent  all  his  money.)  He  had,  that  morning  arisen 
from  his  bed,  and  searched  around  his  miserable 
home  for  something  which  he  could  pawn,  to  satisfy 
the  burning  thirst  within.  The  only  thing  that  could 
be  found,  was  a  pair  of  new  boots  which  he  had  pur- 
chased a  few  days  before.     Taking  them  in  his  hands, 


96  THE     REFORMED     INEBRIATE. 

lie,  with  confused  and  trembling  steps,  turned  towards 
the  pawn-broker's  shop. 

As  he  stood  before  the  Old  Brewery  in  vacant  mood, 
a  man  issued  from  Murderer's  Alley;  and  accosting 
liim  kindly,  asked  if  lie  wished  to  sell  those  boots.  He 
stretched  out  his  hand  to  take  them,  they  were  yielded 
almost  unconsciously,  and  the  thief  rushed  back  into 
the  "  Old  Brewery."  He  rushed  after  him,  and  by  a 
sudden  turn,  entered  Mr.  Luckey's  oflBce.  He  recog- 
nized him  as  the  good  Missionary  of  whom  he  had 
heard,  and  thinking  he  would  aid  him  to  recover  his 
lost  property,  addressed  him  as  above  related. 

"  What  is   your  name  ?"    asked  Mr.  Luckey.     "  My 

name,  Sir,  is  John  T ."     He  proceeded  to  give  a 

short,  but  as  we  afterwards  learned  a  correct  account 
of  his  drunken  career,  and  then  added,  "  I  am  at  pres- 
ent, in  an  awful  state,  both  of  body  and  mind ;  and,  I 
want  you,  Sir,  to  remove  this  dreadful  spell  from  me." 
Mr.  L.,  perceiving  that  the  delirium  tremens  was  rap- 
idly increasing  upon  him,  and  that  it  was  useless  to 
reason,  said — "  none,  but  God,  with  your  earnest  pray- 
ers, can  keep  you ;  I,  cannot."  The  man  arose,  and 
staggering  towards  Mr.  L.,  said,  with  maniac  energy, 
"  you  cannot,  you  cannot !  Don't  that  good  Book  say, 
the  fervent,  effectual  prayer  of  a  righteous  man  avail- 


THE     REFORMED     I^"EBKIATE.  97 

eth  raucli  ?  Yes  ;  God  will  hear  you,  but  he  will  not 
hear  such  a  wretch  as  I  am."  "  I  have,"  he  added  "  as 
nice  a  wife  and  children  as  any  body  has,  and  if  I  am 
too  far  gone  to  be  helped,  which  I  fear  is  the  case,  you 
can  benefit  them.  I  have  ruined  them,"  said  he, 
weeping  bitterly,  "  I  have  ruined  them,  vrretch  as  I  am. 
Mr.  Luckey,  won''t  you  come  and  see  them  ?"  "  Yes," 
was  the  answer,  "  if  you  will  do  as  I  shall  direct,  I  will 
come  and  see  you  all."  "  When  ?"  he  asked.  "  At 
three  o'clock  this  afternoon."  Holding  out .  his  hand 
In  token  of  assent,  and  grasping  Mr.  L.'s  with  the  ut- 
most energy,  he  immediately  left  the  office.  At  the 
appointed  hour,  the  Missionary  was  there  :  but,  Oh ! 
what  a  scene.  His  wife  weeping,  his  children,  fine 
looking,  intelligent  boys,  nestled  in  a  corner  in  deep 
aflfright ;  while  the  father  lay  stretched  upon  his  miser- 
able bed,  trembling  from  head  to  foot,  as  he  grappled 
with  all  the  horrors  of  delirium  tremens.  He  saw 
fearful  sights — he  heard  dreadful  sounds — snakes  ana 
vipers  were  crawling  over  him,  and  winding  round  him  ; 
and  as  Mr.  Luckey  entered,  he,  in  tones  of  agony  be- 
sought him  to  keep  the  demons  off". 

Mr.  L.",  succeeded  in  diverting  his  mind  long  enough 
to  get  his  consent  to  take  an  opiate,  and,  after  ob- 
taining a  promise  that  he  would  come  to  tlie  ofiice  and 

5 


98  THE     REFORMED     I'STEBRIATE, 

take  the  pledge,  and  giving  such  relief  to  the  wife  as 
circumstances  demanded,  he  left  the  wretched  man  with 
the  earnest  prayer,  that  God  would  come  to  his  rescue. 
Deep!  J  did  the  Missionary  feel  that  only  an  Omnipotent 
arm  could  break  those  fearful  chains,  and  set  that 
struggling  captive  free.  The  next  morning,  Mr.  T.  ema- 
ciated and  desponding,  was  there  as  he  had  promised, 
and  willingly  took  the  pledge — this  was  the  first  step, 
but  it  did  not  bring  peace.  His  mind  seemed  fully 
awake  to  the  fact  that  his  present  misery  was  only  the 
result  of  a  previous  cause.  He  was  assured  by  Mr.  L., 
that  his  only  hope  of  success  was  in  obtaining  a  radical 
change  of  heart.  He  said  he  was  fully  convinced  o-f 
this,  and  believed  that  this  was  his  last  chance — that 
the  Spirit  now  resisted,  would  depart  forever.  Mr.  L., 
encouraged  him  to  believe  that  God  was  willing  to  aid 
and  strengthen  him,  and  being  alone  in  the  ofSce,  they 
solemnly  covenanted  together  to  pray  for  this  object, 
and  he  assured  Mr.  L.,  that  he  would  regularly  attend 
the  relio'ious  meetings  connected  with  the  Mission. 

Mr.  Luckey  advised  him  to  take  a  room  in  the  Old 
Brewery,  that  he  might  be  thus  removed  from  former 
evil  associations.  He  frankly  confessed  that  he  had 
no  money  to  pay  for  the  room.     Mr.  L.  promised  to 


THE  REFORMED  INEBRIATE.       99 

become  responsible  to  the  agent  for  one  month's  rent 
and  to  aid  in  obtaining  work  for  him. 

This  was  done — the  outward  pressure  was  removed — 
the  chains  of  watchful  kindness  were  thrown  around 
him,  words  of  sympathy  and  love  were  ever  spoken,  but 
day  after  day  elapsed  and  found  him  bowed  in  deep 
and  utter  condemnation. 

He  regularly  attended  the  class,  the  prayer-meeting 
and  listened  to  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel,  with  wrapt 
attention,  but  the  agony  of  deep  remorse  seemed  to 
press  him  to  earth,  and  in  vain  was  Christ  offered  to 
him  as  a  present  Saviour.  Wasted  time,  wrecked 
powers,  broken  health,  a  desolated  home,  and  a  future 
retribution  followed  him  like  spectres,  and  stood  be- 
tween him  and  a  profiered  salvation. 

Again  the  hour  of  the  weekly  Class-meeting  arrived 
and  Mr.  T.  sat  in  his  accustomed  seat.  The  Missionary 
in  his  turn  stood  before  the  penitent  man,  scarcely 
knowing  how  to  address  him.  Was  not  prayer  to  be 
answered  ?  Had  he  not  proclaimed  God  faithful  and 
true  ?  How  could  he  discover  the  hindrance  and  lead 
that  burdened  soul  to  rest.  Raising  his  heart  in  earnest 
prayer  for  direction,  and  asking  that  noio  might  prove, 
the  hour  of  deliverance,  he  asked  the  usual  question, 
"  How  do  you  feel  to-night,  brother  T. !"     The  tall  form 


100  THE    REFORMED     INEBRIATE. 

arose  before  him,  the  dark  eye  rested  sadly  ujoon  him, 
and  the  earnest,  mournful  answer  came,  "  I  have  tTied 
to  do  as  you  advised  me,  sir,  but  the  more  I  pray  and 
the  more  I  reflect  upon  my  sinfulness,  the  worse  I  ap- 
pear to  get.  I  can  do  no  more,  I  give  myself  up  into 
the  hands  of  my  God."     "  Do  you  ?  do  you  ?"  answered 

the  Missionary,  "  this  is  all  that  he  requires." 
He  requested  the  Class  to  sing 

"  But  drops  of  grief  can  ne'er  repay 

The  debt  of  love  I  owe, 
Here  Lord,  I  give  mj'self  away, 

'Tis  all  that  I  can  do." 

"  Do  you,"  asked  Mr.  L.,  "  do  you  V  To  which  he  re- 
sponded "  yes  I  do,  I  do,"  and  immediately  his  chains 
fell  off,  and  glory  to  God  swelled  from  his  freed  heart 
and  burst  from  his  loosened  tongue.  The  tall  form 
grew  taller  as  it  erected  itself  in  conscious  freedom, 
the  dark  eye  kindled  with  a  living  light,  the  clear  tone 
lost  its  sadness,  and  with  indescribable  energy  he  con- 
tinued "  I  feel  as  I  never  felt  before,  I  feel  that  God  has 
pardoned  all  my  sins,  and  this  is  the  happiest  hour  of 
my  life.  Oh  !  help  me  to  praise  God  and  pray  that  he 
may  strengthen  and  keep  me."  We  will  not  attempt 
to  describe  the  joy  of  that  hour.  The  missionary's 
heart  was  full,  and   they  bowed  and  wept  together. 


THE     REFORMED     INEBRIATE.  101 

Weeks  and  months  rolled  away,  and  the  man  gave 
evidence  of  entire  transformation.  He  was  intelligent, 
and  able  to  give  a  reason  for  his  hope.  He  soon  began 
to  take  part  in  the  prayer-meetings  and  temperance 
meetings,  and  the  influence  of  his  words  and  looks  was 
felt  deeply  throughout  the  mission  bounds. 

In  a  conversation  with  him,  one  of  the  ladies  learned 
that  his  former  wife  was  a  devoted  Christian ;  and 
years  before  he  had  bowed  beside  her  triumphant  death- 
bed, and  heard  her  last  prayer  for  him  tremble  on  her 
dying  lips.  Years  of  sin  and  misery  had  fled  since  then 
— and  memory,  faithful  to  her  trust,  had  often  recalled 
that  scene,  awakeningHhe  most  bitter  anguish.  Now, 
it  arose  before  him,  to  deepen  his  gratitude  and  strength- 
en his  faith.  The  sudden  and  total  disuse  of  liquor 
seemed  to  create  a  lassitude  and  weakness,  and  for  a 
time  we  feared  that  consumption  was  doing  its  fatal 
work.  The  inner  man  grew  strong — peace — deep  peace 
was  so  written  upon  a  naturally  expressive  countenance, 
as  to  attract  the  attention  even  of  casual  visitors ;  but 
those  who  were  watching  him  with  the  most  earnest 
Christian  solicitude  were  anticipating  his  speedy  removal 
to  his  home  above. 

Just  at  this  crisis,  an  unexpected  opening  invited  him 


102  THE     REFORMED     INEBRIATE. 

to  the  country.  All  urged  his  departure,  for  his  own 
benefit,  and  that  of  his  two  fine  boys. 

We  parted  with  deep  regret,  for  amid  the  many  dis- 
couragements which  pressed  upon  our  hearts,  the  sight 
of  that  peaceful  countenance,  bright  index  of  a  renovated 
heart,  that  visible  proof  of  what  the  grace  of  God  could 
accomplish,  always  brought  strength  and  encourage- 
ment ;  and  it  seemed  hard  to  let  the  lights  of  the 
Mission  thus  remove. 

The  summer  fled — his  health  became  renovated,  his 
steady  piety  continued ;  business  prospered,  and  he  is 
now  a  respectable,  thriving  mechanic,  a  happy,  consistent 
Christian,  a  living  monument  of  God's  almighty  power, 
a  reformed,  converted  inebriate. 

Eighteen  months  have  rolled  away  since  that  misera- 
ble drvmtard  staggered  into  the  office  of  the  "Old 
Brewery,"  which  had  just  been  redeemed  from  Satan's 
possession,  by  the  liberality  of  a  generous  public.  If 
the  Missionary  had  not  been  there,  and  been  faithful  to 
his  ministry,  such  results  could  not  have  followed.  God 
Bet  his  seal  of  approbation  thus  early  on  the  eflbrt,  and 
encouraged  those  engaged  to  press  on  amid  innumerable 
difficulties.  In  answer  to  a  letter  of  inquiry  just  written, 
Mr.  Luckey,  v/ho,  by  the  Conference  removal,,  was 
stationed  at  the  same  place  to  which  T.  had  removed 


THB     REFORMED     INEBRIATE.  103 

says,  "  Brother  T.  and  his  wife  (who  experienced  reli- 
gion  a  few  days  after  he  did,)  have  been  received  into 
full  membersliip.  They  are  very  much  respected  and 
beloved  here  as  well  as  at  the  Mission  on  account  o^ 
their  exemplary  deportment,  and  humble  devotion.'* 
He  adds,  "  Brother  T.  paid  his  rent  at  the  Old  Brewery 
before  the  month  was  out,  and  regularly  ever  after.  He 
has  now  all  his  winter  provisions  in  and  paid  for,  and  is 
out  of  debt.  He  has  not  to  my  knowledge  trangressed 
the  strictest  principle  of  Christianity  since  the  day  o£ 
his  conversion,  eighteen  months  ago  !" 


"  The  being  bom  to  toil,  to  die. 

To  break  fortb  from  the  tomb, 
Unto  far  nobler  destiny 

Than  waits  the  sky-lark's  plume  I 
I  saw  him,  in  that  thoughtful  hour, 
Win  the  first  knowledge  of  his  dower ! 

"  It  seemed  as  if  a  temple  rose 

Before  me  brightly  there, 
And  in  the  depths  of  its  repose. 
My  soul  o'erflowed  -nith  prayer, 
■  Feeling  a  solemn  presence  nigh — 
The  flower  of  new-stamped  sanctity !'' 

On  one  of  the  coldest  days   of  the   extremely  cold 
winter    of    1851-52,  a  visitor    entered  a    basement 


104  THE     KEFORMED     INEBRIATE. 

Toom  in  Cow  bav.  This  locality  and  "  the  Old  Bre-w- 
ery,"  are  the  two  most  famous  spots  in  that  dark 
region.  For  miseiy,  degradation,  filth,  and  multitudes 
they  cannot  he  exceeded,  and  it  requires  considerable 
physical  and  moral  courage  to  climb  to  garrets  and 
descend  to  cellars,  where  every  sense  is  offended  by 
the  extreme  wretchedness  which  abounds  on  every 
hand. 

In  this  basement  room,  from  which  some  women 
were  vainly  trying  to  exclude  the  rain-water  which 
had  just  rained  down  in  torrents  and  was  overflowing 
the  guttei-s,  which  were  choked  with  ice  and  refuse,  a 
young  man  was  found  in  the  last  stage  of  consumption, 
Ivinof  on  the  floor,  without  sufficient  clothing  to  shield 
him  in  any  degree  from  the  excessive  cold.  Such 
relief  was  afforded  as  was  in  the  immediate  power  of 
the  visitor,  and  the  case  was  reported. 

A  day  or  two  after,  two  ladies,  interested  in  the 
mission,  called.  Conversing  with  him  they  found 
him  in  a  subdued  state  of  mind,  seeming  to  recognize 
the  hand  of  God  in  his  affliction,  and  prepared  for 
further  teaching.  They  gave  him  instruction  in 
the  simplest  manner  possible,  (for  he  had  been  an 
Ignorant  Catholic,)  sang  for  him,  "  Arise,  my  soul, 
arise,"  to  which  he  listened  with  the  utmost  interest, 


THE     REFORMED     INEBRIATE.  106 

occasionally   responding    to    the    sentiments    uttered, 
and  after  joining  in  prayer,  left  liim  in  strong  faith 
that  God  had  visited  the  man,  and  by  his  providence 
and  his  Spirit  was  assuredly  leading  him  to  himself. 
Through  the  interest  and  care  of  several  benevolent 
friends   he  was  soon   removed  to. a  quiet  attic  room, 
supplied    with    comfortable     bedding    and     clothing, 
furnished  with  nourishing  food,  and  visited  continually 
by      the     Missionary     and     his     wife.       Previously, 
however,    to  his  removal,   and  immediately  after  the 
ladies'  visit,  Mr.  Luckey  called.     He  then  found  him 
with  a  broken  and  a  contrite  heart.     He  instructed 
him  in  the  nature  of    simple,  immediate   faith  in   a 
present  Saviour,  and  loieeling  in  prayer  endeavored  to 
lead  his  mind  to  Jesus.    As  he  prayed  faith  strengthen- 
ed, and  when  he  arose  the  countenance  of  the  man 
plainly  revealed  that  the  crisis  had  passed,  and  Barney 
Hart  was  rejoicing  in  conscious  pardon. 

"  The  soal,  the  awakening  soul  I  saw, 

My  watching  eye  could  trace 
The  shadows  of  its  new-bom  awe, 
•  Sweeping  o'er  that  pale  face. 

**  And  reverently  my  spirit  caught 

The  reverence  of  his  gaze ; 
A  sight  with  dew  of  blessing  fraught 

To  hallow  after-days ; 
To  make  the  proud  heart  meekly  wise, 
By  the  sweet  faith  in  those  calm  eyes." 


106  THE    REFORMED    INEBRIATE. 

After  his  removal  from  the  terrible  place  in  which 
he  was  found,  he   was  visited  almost   daily,   either  by 
the  missionary  and  his  wife,  or  by  the  friends  deeply 
interested   in  the   Mission.      He   was   instructed  and 
examined  until  all  were  satisfied  of  the  reality  of  the 
change    within  him.     His    mind  was  kept    in   perfect 
peace ;  calmness  was  written   on   every  feature   of  his 
countenance.      The   Lord   in    mercy    to   his    sufiering 
frame  kept  the  tempter  from  exerting  his  usual  influence, 
and  day  after  day,  and  week  after  week,  witnessed  the 
gradual  and  painful  decay  of  the  outer  man,  while  the 
inward  man  grew  strong   and  yet  stronger  in  faith   and 
hope     and   love,   until   the   ransomed   spirit   took  its 
triumphant  flight  to  heaven.     On  the   suceeding  Sab- 
bath the  funeral  services  were  held  in  the  Mission-room. 
The  coffin  was  brought    in,    and  by  its    side  was  a 
little  one   containing  a  child  three  years  of  age,  who 
had   died   the   day    before.      A   funeral    sermon  was 
preached  to  a  crowded  audience,  (among  whom  were 
many    Catholics,)      by    the     Missionary,    who    most 
judiciously  improved  the  solemn  occasion,  and  then  the 
bodies  were  borne  to  Greenwood  Cemetery,  the  expenses 
"being  defrayed  by  many  friends.     As  Barney's  name, 
by  Ms  own  request,  had  been  enrolled  upon  the  Church- 


THE     REFORMED     INEBRIATE.  107 

book  cjf  tiie   Mission   weeks   before  he  died,  we   had 
promised  to  bury  him  in  a  Protestant  ground. 

Thus  passed  one  spirit  from  the  Five  Points  to  the 
throne  of  God,  but  not  the  only  one,  for  of  several 
adults  we  have  entertained  the  strongest  hopes,  and 
some  of  our  Sabbath-school  children  have  died,  singing, 
"  There  is  a  happy  land." 

We  have  sowed  the  seed  v,'ith  trembling,  and 
watered  it  with  tears ;  we  have  hoped,  yea,  believed 
that  it  was  taking  deep  root  in  many  hearts,  and 
occasionally  we  have  exulted  over  the  ripe  fruit  which 
was  soon  garnered  in  heaven.  We  are  looking  for 
greater  things,  hoping  it  is  but  the  first-fruits  of  the 
harvest,  and  we  ask  the  continued  prayers  and  aid  of 
our  friends. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SEED     SOWN     IN     THE     MORNING, 

"  "When  parental  influsuce  doe3  not  convert,  it  hampers.  It  hangs  on 
the  wheels  of  evil.  I  had  a  pious  mother  who  dropped  things  in  my  way 
— I  could  never  rid  myself  of  them" — Ckoii,. 

The  bistoiy  of  one  of  the  members  of  our  Mission  so 
forcibly  illustrates  the  truth  that  early  impressions,  thcugh 
seemingly  lost,  frequently  re-appear  in  after  life, — as 
parchments  whose  first  records  have  been  displaced  by 
vain  legends,  are  enabled  by  a  chemical  process  to 
reveal  their  original  inscriptions — that  its  narration 
may  not  be  without  its  lesson. 

J.  A.  was  born  and  brought  up  in  a  pious  family.  All 
recollections  of  his  parents  recognize  the  pervading 
element  of  their  piety.  A  Methodist  class-leader  for 
fifty  years,  his  father  ever  mair^ained  a  character  with- 
out reproach.  "  Never  did  I  see  in  him,"  said  his  son, 
"  anything  that  would  condemn  him,  he  was  a  praying 
man,  and  in  harvest  time,  when  we  had  seven  or  eight 
men  employed  on  the  farm,  all  were  required  to  be 
present  at  the  regular  family  prayer,  morning  and 
evening."     Parental  admonition  and  example  seemed 


SEED     SOWN    IX    THE    MORNING.  109 

for  the  time  lost  upon  the  son,  who  joined  the  Orange 
men  and  was  thus  brought  into  associations  most  unfa- 
vorable to  his  piety.  His  father  frequently  remonstrated 
with  him  upon  his  course  of  life,  and  told  him  with 
sorrow  of  heart,  "  that  everything  would  go  agin  him 
until  he  turned  to  God — and  that  he  would  be  brought 
very  low  before  the  Lord  would  raise  him  up." 

One  day  as  he  was  carrying  a  load  of  potatoes  which 
his  father  had  sold  to  the  teacher  of  a  school,  he  was 
attracted  by  a  young  girl  seated  in  the  window.  "  I 
liked  her,"  he  said,  "  and  I  thought  she  liked  me,"  and 
though  she  was  above  his  degree,  he  found  some  means 
of  making  kaown  his  attachment.  Shortly  after,  hav- 
ing had  a  violent  attack  of  fever,  and  been  given  over 
by  the  physicians,  he  sent  a  message  to  this  young  girl 
begging  her  to  let  him  see  her  once  before  he  died. 
She  came  and  standing  on  the  porch,  raised  the  win- 
dow and  leaning  on  the  window-sill,  she  spoke  to  him, 
and  as  he  looked  upon  her  he  saw  the  tears  stealing 
down  her  face.  Whether  this  interview  was  as  healinsr 
medicine  to  the  sick  man,  we  know  not,  but  he  recov- 
ered, and  married  the  object  of  his  affections,  much  to 
the  displeasure  of  her  family.  Her  father  gave  her 
some  money  and  fine  cattle  for  her  husband's  farm,  and 
then  refused  all  further  intercourse  with  her. 


110  SEE'D     SOWN     IN    THE     MOBl*f 

She  soon  accommodated  herself  to  her  new  circum- 
stances, and  though  unused  to  labor,  after  a  few  months, 
she  dismissed  the  servant-girl  and  worked  with  her  own 
hands.  An  increasing  family  and  a  diminishing 
income — the  potato  rot  and  the  high  price  of  provis- 
ions,— all  things  seemed  indeed  "to  go  agin"  the 
struggling  husband  and  father.  With  the  hope  of 
bettering  his  condition,  he  opened  a  store,  and  purchased 
a  stock  of  provisions,  partly  on  credit,  but  their  hearts 
were  "  too  soft"  to  demand  fair  prices  from  their  starving 
customers,  and  the  store  proved  a  losing  concern.  The 
grocer  from  whom  he  had  made  his  purchases,  for  a 
debt  of  £2  6s,  threw  him  into  prison,  where  he  remained 
for  four  months.  He  found  "  favor  in  the  sight  of 
the  keeper  of  the  prison,"  and  as  he  neither  drank  nor 
smoked,  he  was  entrusted  with  the  task  of  allotting  to 
the  prisoners  their  portion  of  food.  For  this  service  he 
received  one  and  sixpence  a  week,  and  when  his  wife 
came  to  visit  him  once  a  fortnight,  he  always  had  three 
shillings  to  give  her  to  aid  in  supporting  the  five  helpless 
children  at  home. 

One  day  one  of  the  turnkeys  brought  in  four  loaves  of 
bread,  which  he  had  stolen  from  the  baker's  cart,  and  waa 
proceeding  to  divide  them,  giving  J.  A.  his  portion,  when 
he  asked  him  how  he  obtained  them,  and  on  being  told 


SEED     SOWN     IN    THE     MORNING.  ]11 

remomstrated  with  him  on  his  dishonesty,   and  insisted 

upon  their   being   returned.     The   baker,   who   was  a 

Catholic,  on  becoming  acquainted  with  the  circumstance, 
and  knowing  A to   be  an   Orangeman,   was  much 

pleased  with  the  man's  honesty,  and  soon  had  an  oppor- 
tunity of  manifesting  his  gratitude  by  kind  deeds.  A 
new  law  was  passed,  by  which  all  who  were  imj)risoned 

for  debts  under  £10,  were  set  free,  and  A regained 

his  liberty.  His  fiiend,  the  baker,  filled  a  box  with 
bread  for  the  freed  prisoner  to  carry  home,  and  took 
him  nearly  all  the  way  in  his  car. 

It  was  eleven  at  night,  and  thinking  that  his  wife  in 
her  poverty  might  have  no  candle,  by  the  light  of 
which  he  could  once  more  see  her  face  and  the  loved 
faces  of  his  children,  he  stopped  to  purchase  one ;  for 
he  had  five  shillings  in  his  pocket.  He  first  went  to  his 
father's  house,  and  the  mother  came  and  threw  herself 
upon  his  neck,  and  wept  over  her  son,  come  back  to 
her  again.  But  a  few  months  after  this,  she  passed 
away  into  that  land  where,  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  away. 
She  went  with  him  to  be  present  at  the  joyfid  meeting 
with  his  family.  Sore  days  and  hard  work  were  still 
before  him,  and  though  hi  had  his  own  land,  he 
wrought  for  a  neighbor  for  four-pence  a  day. 

His  wife's  father  paid  her  passage  and  that  of  her 


112  SEED     SOWN     IN    THE    MOKNING. 

eldest  daughter ;  and  witli  a  baby  in  her  arms,  she  em- 
barked for  this  country.  On  the  voyage,  One  who  could 
do  better  for  that  little  one  than  its  mother,  took  it  to 
a  world  where  "  there  is  no  sea" — neither  trouble  nor  cry- 
ing. The  stricken  wife  and  mother  who  never  com- 
plained of  the  life  of  privation  and  labor  to  which  her 
marriage  had  introduced  her,  soon  after  her  arrival  pa- 
tiently began  her  work,  the  avails  of  which  were  to  re- 
unite her  to  her  husband.  She  was  seamstress  in  a 
family  in  Westchester  County, — and  not  a  cent  did  she 
spend  for  herself,  till  her  husband's  passage  money  was 
transmitted  to  him.  There  was  no  surplus  to  defray 
little  Johnny's  passage,  but  how  could  the  father  leave  his 
three  year  old  boy  behind  ?  The  two  girls  remained 
with  their  grandfather,  but  Johnny  must  share  his  for- 
tunes, and  with  the  child  in  his  arms,  he  travelled  to 
Belfast,  where  he  was  to  take  shipping,  with  the  hope 
of  receiving  aid  from  a  friend  there.  That  hope  was 
disappointed  ;  but  on  hearing  his  story,  some  one  con- 
nected with  the  ship  advised  him  to  take  his  trunk  be- 
low and  await  the  issue.  The  next  day,  as  two  gentle- 
men were  calling  the  roll  of  the  passengers,  the  father 
came  forward  with  his  boy,  and  said  he  had  only  mo- 
ney to  pay  for  himself,  but  he  could  not  leave  his  child 
an   orphan — and  if  not   allowed  to  take  him,  he  must 


SEED     SOWN     ;N    the     MORNING.  113 

go  to  Liverpool,  to  try  what  he  could  do  there.  The 
one  gentleman  whispered  to  the  other,  and  they  told 
him  to  pass  on  ;  and  he  was  permitted  to  bring  his  boy 
out  free.  Thus  Providence,  he  said,  was  beginning  to 
open  his  way  for  him,  and  he  began  then,  on  the  sea,  to 
pray  to  the  God  w/hose  claims  he  had  so  long  neg- 
lected. 

He  landed  at  night,  with  three  pence  in  his  pocket, 
and  went  to  the  Alms-house  for  shelter.  In  the  morn- 
ing, he  went  forth,  holding  his  boy  on  his  back,  and  a  lit- 
tle bare  foot  in  each  hand,  to  protect  it  from  the  cold.  By 
his  side  were  two  children,  whose  mother  was  dead, 
and  who  had  come  out  to  join  their  father,  to  whom 
he  was  taking  them.  A  gentleman  touched  with  the 
forlorn  aspect  of  the  group,  stopped  and  put  a  shilling 
in  the  boy's  hand,  gave  a  piece  of  money  to  each  of 
the  children,  and  took  them  all  to  an  eating-house, 
where  he  gave  them  a  good  breakfast.  How  grate- 
fully has  that  way-side  benefaction  been  remembered  ! 

J.  A.  had  been  brought  up  on  the  same  farm  with 
Archbishop  Hughes,  and  on  the  recent  visit  of  this 
dignitary  to  the  home  of  his  boyhood,  he  had  rambled 
with  him  over  every  nook  of  the  farm.  To  his  resi- 
dence, therefore,  he  directed  his  steps,  and  on  hearing 
his  name,  the   Archbishop   came    out,   asked  him   in 


114  SEED     SOWN     IN     Xti_    MORNING. 

the  parlor,  and  received  him  kindly.  He  gave  hira 
two  dollars  and  a  letter  to  a  bookseller,  to  furnish  hira 
with  books  for  sale.  And  at  a  subsequent  time,  when 
the  poor  man  "  got  in  a  great  strait,"  he  gave  him 
further  assistance  of  money  and  clothes.  The  book- 
seller furnished  him  with  a  stock  in  trade,  by  which  he 
contrived  to  make  a  living.  He  was  soon  joined  by 
his  wife,  and  they  took  a  room  in  Mulberry  street.  He 
found  his  way  to  the  Green  street-  church,  where  the 
pastor  "  clothed  him  from  his  skin  out,"  for  he  found 
it  hard    to    support   himself  and  his  family. 

As  he  lived  not  far  from  the  Five  Points  Mission,  he 
he  went  there  to  church,  and  while  listening  to  the 
preaching,  and  the  faithful  personal  admonitions  of  the 
Missionary,  his  heart  was  entirely  subdued.  When  he 
went  there  to  the  Prayer-meetings,  he  said,  all  the 
early  religious  privileges  he  had  slighted,  rose  up  before 
him,  and  he  resolved  with  strong  crying  and  tears,  to 
seek  the  God  of  his  fathers.  And  he  did  seek  him 
with  an  earnest  heart  for  three  months,  and  he  "  at 
length  found  the  pearl  of  great  price."  It  was,  one 
morning  early,  at  four  o'clock,  while  he  was  lifting  up 
his  heart  to  God,  he  felt  a  sweet  peace  and  joy,  that 
God,  for  Christ's  sake,  had  pardoned  his  sins,  and 
brought  him  from  darkness  into  light.      He  rose,  and 


SEED     SOWy     IK     THE     MORNING.  115 

kneeling  down  beside  Ms  bed,  he  thanked  God  for  his 
great  mercies  to  a  poor  unworthy  sinner.  And  from 
that  time  he  has  been  endeavoring  to  lead  a  new  life. 

A  tail,  handsome  man  is  his  wife's  father — with  a  fine 
estate  just  inherited  from  an  aunt — an  elegant  equipage 
— a  train  of  dogs  fed  from  his  plentiful  table — can  he 
"  hide  himself  from  his  own  flesh  ?"  Those  two  little 
girls  for  whom  a  mother's  heart  yearned,  as  she 
thouo-ht  of  the  broad  ocean  that  rolled  between — can 
their  mother's  father  withhold  the  boon  which  would 
restore  them  to  the  arms  of  their  parents  ?  When 
they  ask  bread,  will  he  give  them  a  stone  ?  Yes,  verily, 
— but  kind  friends  were  found  at  the  mission,  and 
their  proftered  aid  once  more  reunites  the  scattered 
family. 

They  are  all  together  now,  in  their  cheerful  room,  in 
the  Mission  building — and  all  the  children  in  the  Mis- 
sion school.  And  the  patient,  uncomplaining  wife  is, 
we  trust,  learning  in  the  school  of  Christ,  where  she 
will  find  a  rest  she  never  knew  before — a  peace  which 
makes  the  heart  of  her  husband  glad,  and  which  will 
prove  to  her  a  satisfying  portion.  "  He  prays  for  her 
night  and  day,"  he  says,  and  gratefuUy  does  he  ac- 
knowledge that  "  God  even  makes  his  worldly  business 
to  prosper" — that  his  "  father's  prayers  have    reached 


116  THE     RESCUED     FAMILY. 

him  over  the  ocean,"  and  have  brought  down  blessings 
upon  him.  And  when  he  heard  of  the  poverty  of  his 
father,  who,  by  the  failure  of  the  crops,  had  been  re- 
duced to  "  the  walls  of  his  house,  grass  for  a  goat,  and 
turf-bog  for  the  winter,"  he  hastened  to  the  coal-yard 
where  he  had  just  purchased  a  ton  of  coal,  and  leavrng 
his  own  necessities  to  be  supplied  as  he  had  need  and 
means,  he  requested  the  money  to  be  returned  that  he 
might  send  it  to  his  father.  The  early  prophecy  was 
verified — he  was  brought  to  the  lowest  depths  of  want 
— ^he  had  left  his  father's  house,  and. the  farm,  where  his 
careless  boyish  years  were  spent,  and  had  sunk  down  even 
to  the  Five  Points,  and  there  the  Lord  raised  him  up  ! 


"Look  on  this  "picture  of  joy  and  remember  that  portrait  of  sorrow. 
Behold  the  beauty  of  goodaess,  behold  the  deformity  of  sLa." — Tupp£k. 

lu  the  early  part  of  June,  1850,  shortly  after  the  opening 
of  the  Mission-room,  I  observed,  one  Sunday  morning,  among 
the  children  gathered  in  the  school,  a  girl  of  eight  or  nine 
years  of  age,  whose  innocent  expression  of  countenance  was 
so  strongly  contrasted  with  the  bold  air  of  most  of  her  as- 
sociates that  it  attracted  my  attention.  When  the  school 
was  dismissad  I  asked  her  name,  and  where  she  lived.    She 


THE     RESCUED     FAMILY.  117 

seemed  to  slirink  from  the  glance  wlaicli  I  cast  upon  her 
tattered,  filthy  garments,  and  dishevelled  hair. 

"  Do  you  know  where  the  Tabernacle  is  ?"     I  asked. 

"  0,  yes  ;  I  sweep  the  street  there  sometimes,  and  sell  mint 
at  the  hotel  near  it." 

"  "Will  you  come  to  my  house  to-morrow  morning,  at  Xo.  — , 
near  the  Tabernacle  ?    I  wish  to  see  you." 

At  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning  she  was  at  the  door.  I 
took  her  to  the  laundry,  had  her  put  into  a  tub  of  water, 
where  she  got  a  thorough  ablution,  and  had  afterward  her 
hair  well  combed — an  operation  to  which  it  seemed  it  had 
been  months,  if  not  years  a  stranger.  As  I  had  a  little 
daughter  about  her  age,  whose  clothes  would  fit  her,  I  clothed 
her  from  head  to  foot,  and  when  the  bonnet  was  put  upon  her 
head  the  poor  child  looked  up  with  a  pleasant  and  happy  ex- 
pression of  countenance,  and  broke  the  silence  which  she  had 
maintained  throughout  the  entire  ceremony,  as  she  exclaimed, 
"  0,  ma'am,  how  good  I  feel !"  Soap  and  water,  with  clean 
clothes,  had  made  a  potent  transformation ;  and  the  little, 
clean,  satisfied  face  that  looked  out  from  the  bonnet  amply 
rewarded  me.  On  leaving,  she  was  told  she  must  keep  her 
clothes  neat  for  the  coming  Sabbath,  and  another  suit  was  in 
part  provided  for  her.  The  following  Sabbath  she  was  one 
of  the  first  at  the  Mission  School,  in  as  neat  a  trim  as  she  had 
left  me  the  Monday  before.  In  the  interim  she  had  re-assumed 
her  usual  garb,  to  pursue  her  ordinary  avocation,  which  was 
sweeping  the  street  and  supplying  markets  and  hotels  with 
mint  for  mint-juleps.    % 

Little  Jane's  altered  appearance  made  so  favorable  an  im- 
pression on  her  associates,  that  I  thought  the  rude,  rough 
boys  might  be  benefited  by  an  example  of  cleanliness  among 
their  number.  My  eye  again  sought  out  and  found  the  same 
innocent  expression  of  face  in  an  honest,  well-bebaved  lad  of 


118  THE    RESCtTED    PAMILT. 

about  fourtden  years  of  age.  He  was  so  retiring  and  modest 
in  his  bearing,  that  I  resolved  to  speak  with  him  when  school 
should  be  dismissed.  I  did  so ;  invited  him  to  my  house ; 
had  him  dressed  ;  sent  him  to  the  hatter's  for  a  cap,  and  had 
him  fully  prepared  for  the  next  Sabbath.  Upon  inquiry,  I 
learned  to  my  surprise  that  he  was  a  brother  to  little  Jane.  The 
pantaloons  which  we  had  provided  for  him  being  too  long,  I 
told  him  to  ask  his  mother  to  put  a  tuck  in  them,  just  where 
I  put  the  pins  for  a  mark. 

The  next  Sabbath  both  the  children  were  at  the  Mission 
School,  clean  and  neatly  dressed,  but  no  alteration  had  been 
made  in  the  pantaloons,  the  pins  remaining  just  where  I  had 
placed  them  as  marks  for  a  tuck.  He  caught  my  eye  as  I 
entered,  and  while  speaking  with  him  I  observed  he  was 
chewing  tobacco.  I  desired  him  to  come  to  my  house  again 
on  the  morrow.  When  he  came  I  asked  him  if  he  believed  I 
was  his  friend  ?  "0  yes,  ma'am,  I  guess  I  do."  "  Then  I 
wish  you  to  feel,  my  boy,  that  what  I  say  to  you  is  the  ex- 
pression of  my  interest  in  your  welfare,  and  I  wish  you  to  be 
open  and  frank  with  me,  and  answer  me  truly.  Do  not  be 
afraid  to  own  anything  that  is  wrong  in  yourself ;  for  I  know 
you  are  surrounded  by  much  to  lead  you  astray." 

From  the  look  he  gave  me,  I  felt  I  had  his  confidence. 

"  Do  you  swear,  Joseph  ?"    ."  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Do  you  drink  ?"     "  N"o,  ma'am." 

"Do  you  break  the  Sabbath?"  "  Yes,  ma'am,  I'm  afraid 
I  do." 

"  Do  you  steal?"  His  no  was  ei^hasized  and  elongated, 
as  with^  look  of  almost  triumphant  innocence  lie  said,  "I  never 
stole  a  pin  in  all  my  life." 

"  Well,  Joseph,  do  you  chew  tobacco  ?"    "  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Quarrel  with  bad  boys  in  the  street  ?"  "  Yes  ;  they  lick 
rae  first,  I  pay  them  back,  that's  all." 


THE    EESOUED     FAMILY.  119 

Upon  further  inquiry,  I  found  he  had  bfien  employed  for 
two  years  to  set  up  nine  pins,  in  an  alley  in  the  basement  of 
one  of  our  principal  hotels.  For  this  work  he  received  two 
dollars  and  a  half  a  week,  but  the  poor  child  was  kept  up 
nearly  all  night,  and  then  sold  papers  to  fill  up  his  other 
waking  hours. 

When  I  asked  him  why  he  had  not  had  his  pantaloons 
made  shorter,  he  hesitated,  he  seemed  unwilling  to  answer  ; 
but  on  my  re])eatiug  the  question,  with  the  assurance  that  it 
was  no  fault  if  he  had  forgotten  to  ask  his  mother,  he  replied, 
while  his  eye  filled  with  tears,  and  his  lip  quivered  with  emo- 
tion, "  My  mother  drinks,  ma'am." 

"  Cannot  you  persuade  your  mother  to  become  sober  ?" 
said  I.     "  No,  ma'am,  she  wiU  not  take  the  pledge." 

I 'took  down  a  book,  and  asked  him  if  he  could  read? 
"  Quite  imperfectly,"  was  the  sensible  reply. 

I  then  read  to  him  various  incidents  related  in  anecdotes 
for  the  young,  by  the  late  Eev.  Daniel  Smith,  concerning  the 
swearer,  the  Sabbath  breaker,  and  the  drunkard,  showing  him 
how  signally  God  would  bless  even  the  efforts  of  a  child  to 
rescue  a  parent  from  intemperance.  The  silent  tear  rolled 
down  his  cheek  as  I  urged  upon  him  the  necessity  of  doing 
all  he  could  to  free  himself  and  family  from  the  vices  to  which 
they  were  addicted ;  and  he  said  most  earnestly,  "  I  won't 
swear  any  more,  nor  chew  any  more  tobacco." 

A  few  days  after  this  promise  was  made,  I  observed 
Joseph  again  chewing.  I  said  kindly  to  him,  "  So  Joseph 
your  habit  of  chewing  was  so  strong  you  could  not  keep 
your  promise."  "  0  yes  I  have ;  I  am  chewing  camomile 
flowers  ;"  taking  them  from  his  vest  pocket.  He  said  his  ' 
appetite  left  him  when  he  gave  up  his  tobacco  and  he  was 
obliged  to  break  off  by  this  means,  and  he  did  succeed ;  a 
pattern,  we  think,  for  older  heads. 


120  THE     RESCUED     FAMILY. 

"  Will  you  take  me  to  see  your  mother,  Joseph  ?"  said  I, 
"  Not  to  day,  ma'am,  please." 

"  But  why  ?"  "  She  is  not  up  yet ;  she  is  not  sober." 

"  Never  mind,  let  me  go  with  you  now  ;  I  think  she  will 
be  up  by  the  time  Vv-e  get  there." 

After  much  persuasion  he  consented.  On  our  way  down 
Anthqny  street,  as  if  to  prepare  me  for  the  wretchedness 
of  his  miserable  home,  he  said  I  would  find  the  house  rery 
dirty ;  but  no  anticipation  could  equal  the  sad  reality. 
The  entry  through  which  I  was  obliged  to  pick  my  steps 
led  to  the  door  of  a  room,  the  air  of  which  was  almost  in- 
tolerable, so  ofiensive  was  the  odor  on  opening  the  door. 
It  was  on  the  ground  floor,  and  the  crevices  and  holes  of  the 
broken  flooring  were  a  receptacle  for  the  refuse  food  and  slops. 
The  front  of  the  room  had  been  used  as  a  bar-room,  but 
the  partition  had  been  taken  down,  and  with  it  large  pieces 
of  the  wall  and  ceiling.  On  a  broken  table,  braced  up 
against  the  wall  to  keep  it  from  falling,  lay  a  dog,  beside  a 
piece  of  bread,  a  dirty  plate  of  butter,  a  broken  tea-pot,  and 
an  iron  pot  with  a  few  potatoes  ;  a  few  plates,  knives,  and 
forks.  Other  furniture  there  was  none,  save  an  old  chair 
without  a  back,  a  few  dirty  rags  serving  for  bed  and  bed- 
clothes, and  a  broken  bedstead  thrown  down  in  a  drunken 
frolic  a  week  before.  And  this  was  the  home  of  those 
children,  with  their  sweet,  innocent  faces — this  was  '  the 
atmosphere  of  physical  and  moral  pollution  in  which  these 
young  creatures  were  being  trained  for  eternity  ! 

A  man  was  seated  on  a  bundle  of  old  and  fresh  herbs, 
with  three  boys  opposite  him,  all  busily  engaged  tying  up 
and  arranging  mint  in  bundles,  for  the  markets  and  hotels. 
Could  the  drinkers  of  mint  juleps,  as  they  lifted  the  cup  from 
the  marble  table  of  the  gilded  saloon,  have  seen  the  untold 
filth  of  the  room  in  which  the  mint,  gathered  by  the  side  of 


THE     REtSCUED     FAMILY.  121 

tae  limpid  brook,  was  prepared  for  their  use,  tliey  would 
Lave  dashed  down  the  draught  with  disgust  from  their  lips> 
and  would  never  have  felt  an  inclination  to  taste  it  again. 

In  the  far  corner  of  the  room  another  scene  presented 
itself.  There  lay  the  mother  of  the  interesting  children 
drunk,  upon  the  floor.  The  boy,  approaching  her,  pushed  her 
with  his  foot,  saying,  with  almost  despairing  earnestness  in  his 
tones,  "  Mother,  get  up  ;  do  get  up ;  here  is  the  lady  who  gave 
Jeannie  and  me  our  clothes  ;  do  get  up."  She  was  at  length 
aroused  by  the  child's  appeal,  and,  staggering  toward  the 
mantel-piece,  against  which  she  leaned  heavily,  she  said, 
"Tou  are  very  good,  ma'am,  for  what  you  did  for  my 
children — and  I  am  very  sick."  "  I  think  you  look  ill," 
I  replied,  "  and  I  came  here  to  see  if  I  could  do  you  any 
good."  She  was  evidently  affected  at  these  words  of  kind- 
ness but  she  only  reiterated  that  siie  was  so  sick.  And 
so  she  was,  poor  creature,  with  a  sore  and  grievous  sickness 
overpowering  both  body  and  mind  ;  but  she  was  to  me  a 
most  interesting  woman,  her  face  indicating  that  she  had  not 
aways  been  so  degraded. 

The  man  on  the  herbs,  who  had  been  listening  to  our  con- 
versation, and  had  not  before  spoken,  now  exclaimed,  "  You 
know  you  are  not  sick  at  all ;  you  know  you  have  been  drunk 
all  night ;  and  I  had  to  get  the  breakfast  this  morning  my- 
self. That  is  what  ails  her,  ma'am"  "  Is  this  your  husband  ?" 
I  asked  the  woman.  "  Yes  ma'am ;  no,  ma'am,"  she  hur- 
riedly answered.  "  No,  ma'am  ;  he  has  lived  here  with  me 
since  the  children's  father  died,  and  he  is  very  good  to  my 
ehiidren,"  "  Are  these  three  boys  all  your  children  ?"  "Only 
one ;  the  other  two  lads  who  are  bundling  mint  are  not  mine. 
I  have  but  two  boys  and  one  girl.  Those  two  boys,  ma'am, 
are  orphans,  whose  parents  died  with  the  cholera  ;  and  they 
have  lived  here  ever  since,  for  I  promised  their  mother  to 


122  THE     RESCUED     FAMILY. 

look  after  tliem."  And  in  all  her  degradation  and  porerty 
she  had  sheltered  these  orphans  in  her  wretched  home,  and 
they  accompanied  the  man  when  he  went  into  the  country  to 
gather  herb?,  and  assisted  him  to  prepare  them  for  sale ;  and 
in  this  way  the  family  was  supported. 

I  now  expostulated  with  her  on  her  vicious  course  of  life. 
How  could  she,  a  mother,  with  three  such  very  interestir^g 
children  growing  up  around  her,  so  debase  herself?  She 
replied,  that  she  had  no  decent  clothes,  or  they  would  have 
been  married.  The  man,  contradicting  her,  said  that  was 
not  the  case ;  for  he  had  been  willing  several  times  to  be 
married,  but  "  she  would  go  on  a  spree,  and  then  he  would  not 
have  her."  He  added,  that "  if  she  only  would  keep  sober,  she 
was  as  respectable  as  any  lady  in  New-York."  I  suggested, 
and  then  urged,  that  she  should  sign  the  pledge,  and  if  she 
remained  sober  till  after  the  Fourth  of  July,  and  they  were 
still  of  the  opinion  that  it  would  contribute  to  their  happiness 
to  be  married,  that  suitable  clothing  should  be  provided,  and 
the  ceremony  should  take  place  in  the  Mission-room.  She 
took  the  pledge  and  kept  it :  and  on  the  evening  of  the 
5th  of  July,  1850,  they  stood  respectably  arrayed  in  front  of 
the  altar  in  our  Mission-room,  while  the  missionary  performed 
the  marriage  ceremony  with  great  solemnity,  and  at  the  close 
gave  them  an  instructive  exhortation  to  be  on  their  guard 
against  the  evils  of  intemperance. 

They  promised,  as  they  returned  home  with  lighter  and 
happier  hearts  than  they  had  known  for  many  a  day.  A 
comfortable  room  was  then  procured  for  them.  It  was  neatly 
white-washed,  and  furnished  with  the  luxuries  of  bedsteads, 
bedding,  chairs,  and  a  table.  A  place  was  found  for  tlie 
man  in  a  coal-yard,  and  the  elder  boy,  Joseph,  was  placed  at 
a  trade,  the  younger  children  at  school,  and  the  orphan  boys 
at  trades. 


J 


THE    RESCUED     FAMILY.  123 

After  some  months  the  watchful  oversight  of  the  woman 
was  thought  to  be  no  longer  necessary,  and  she  broke  her 
pledge.  We  besought  her  again  to  sign  it ;  and,  to  our  sur- 
prise, she  not  only  consented  to  do  so,  but  said,  with  a  strength 
of  resolution,  "  I  shall  now  sign  it  as  I  ought :  I  feared  my 
habits  were  too  strong  when  I  signed  before,  and  therefore 
allowed  you  to  write  my  name,  while  I  put  my  cross  under 
it :  I  feared  I  would  break  it,  but  now  with  the  help _^ of  the 
Lord,  I  think  I  can  keep  it ;"  and  she  wrote  her  name  as 
well  as  we  could  have  written  it  for  her  ;  and,  though  nearly 
two  years  have  elasped  since,  yet  she  maintains  her  integrity, 
and  has  never  tasted  anything-  that  could  intoxicate.  The 
husband  has  never  broken  his  pledge  at  all,  but  is  considered 
a  strictly  honest,  sober  man,  and  stiU  retains  his  place  in  the 
coal-yard.  Joseph,  by  his-  strict  attention  to  evening  school, 
has  learned  to  read  and  write ;  and  his  employer  intrusts  him 
with  every  valuable  article  in  his  store,  and  believes  him  to 
be  worthy  of  unlimited  confidence.  And  as  we  visit  them 
from  time  to  time  in  their  altered"  home,  they  show  us,  with 
great  satisfaction,  some  addition  to  its  comforts — a  clock, 
bureau,  and  a  few  pictures,  &c.,  which  their  savings  have 
enabled  them  to  purchase ;  and  if  a  new  dress  or  coat 
is  purchased,  they  wish  us  to  see  it,  even  before  it  is  worn, 
knowing  how  fuUy  we  rejoice  in  all  their  prosperity.  At 
the  last  Thanksgiving  supper,  when  seven  hundred  of  the 
locality  were  fed  in  the  mammoth  tent,  we  invited  them  to 
be  present,  but  Joseph  replied : — "  We  are  out  of  the  Five 
Points  now,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  eat  with  them ;"  thus 
proving  that  when  self  respect  is  gained,  they  will  not  desire 
to  live  among  the  degraded. 

This  is  but  one  of  the  families  rescued  from  deep  degrad- 
tion  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Ladies'  Home  Mis- 
Bionary  Society ;  and  there  are  still  innocent  young  faces 


124  THE     RESCUED     FAMILY. 

pleading  for  their  neglected  childhood  their  miserable  homes 
and  their  abandoned  parents.  Will  not  the  citizens  of  New- 
York,  by  their  liberal  gifts,  enable  this  society  to  carry  out 
their  plans  to  satisfactory  issues  ?  The  Mission  has  a  public 
good  in  view,  and  it  looks  for  public  sympathy  and  support. 
It  endeavors  to  elevate  the  temporal  condition  of  these  poor, 
forlorn  ones,  so  long  uncared  for,  but  it  also  aims  to  throw  the 
Christian  element  among  these  degraded  masses,  with  the 
strong  faith  that  it  will  even  here  attest  its  divine  origin  and 
its  wonder-working  power — that  the  little  leaven  will  leaven 
the  whole  lump. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


MART     D 


Life  to  life,  and  dust  to  dust ! 

Christ  hath  bled  upon  a  tree, 
Tiime  the  promise,  ours  the  trust, 

"We  are  weak,  but  God  ia  just ; 

Miserere  Domine.  Head. 

One  Sabbath  afternoon  in  the  wmter  of  1852,  I  was 
looking  for  the  residence  of  some  of  our  school  chil- 
dren, who  lived  at  ISTo.  2  Cow  Bay.  Not  knowing 
which  room  in  the  building  they  occupied,  I  knocked 
at  each  door  successively  till  I  reached  the  second  stoiy 
front  room.  The  door  being  opened  I  observed  a  very 
sickly  looking  woman  shivering  with  an  ague,  sitting 
upon  a  hard  bench.  On  enquiring  the  cause  I  found 
she  was  just  recovering  from  a  hemorrhage  of  the 
lungs,  and  she  said  the  sitting  posture  gave  her  more 
relief.  I  did  not  doubt  it,  for  the  bed  (if  it  might 
be  called  one)  was  a  poor  pallet  on  a  few  planks  nailed 
against  the  wall  to  serve  for  a  bedstead,  while  the  scanty 
covering  scarcely  sufficed  to  keep  her  from  freezing. — ■ 
We  were  enabled  from  the  Mission  wardrobe  to  supply 


126  MART    D . 

her  with  comfortable  bedding,  some  pillows,  and  a 
warm  double  gown  ;  our  Missionary  and  his  wife  took  a 
lively  interest  in  her  case,  and  this  care  for  a  stranger 
exciting  her  wonder  prompted  the  question,  if  we  were 
not  of  the  "  Sisters  of  mercy  ?"  We  told  her  that  our 
Mission  was  one  of  mercy,  but  we  were  not  entitled  to 
that  name  as  she  understood  it.  A  gentleman  attached 
to  the  Mission  sent  her  a  large  easy  chair,  another 
provided  her  with  fuel,  and  she  was  thus  made  com- 
paratively cpmfortable. 

Her  husband,  who  when  he  was  sober,  was  very 
kind,  at  other  times  treated  her  brutally.  At  last 
he  was  prevailed  upon  by  our  Missionary  to  sign 
the  pledge,  which  he  faithfully  kept  for  about  three 
months.  In  an  hour  of  temptation  he  broke  it ; 
and  as  he  became  very  harsh  in  his  treatment  of 
his  sick  wife,  at  times  her  distress  of  mind  and  body 
bordered  upon  distraction.  In  the  visits  of  the  ladies 
she  would  narrate  all  her  sorrows  to  us,  saying,  "I 
know  you  pity  a  poor  creature  like  myself."  We  urged 
her  constantly  to  carry  her  sorrows  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  and  tried  to  instruct  her  in  the  truths  of  the 
Gospel.  She  expressed  great  willingness  to  be  taught, 
and  in  the  simplicity  of  her  heart  would  say,  "  I  will  do 
all  you  bid  me.     I  will  pray  just  as  you  tell  me."     But 


MARY    D .  127 

the  poor  creature  was  so  totally  ignorant  of  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Gospel,  that  she  seemed  to  think  it  a  reli- 
gious act  to  invoke  God's  judgments  on  her  intem- 
perate husband.  Soon  her  appetite  failed,  and  con- 
sumption was  manifestly  doing  its  work.  We  felt  that 
she  was  utterly  unprepared  to  meet  her  God,  and  asked 
her  what  church  she  attended.  She  replied,  "  the 
Catholic  Church  in  Chambers  street."  She  had  not  how- 
ever gone  much  of  late,  for  when,  she  had  had  a  former 
hemorrhage  and  thought  she  would  die,  she  had  sent  to 
the  priest,  who  finding  the  crisis  was  past,  had  told  her 
not  to  send  for  him  again  till  she  was  sure  she  was 
dying.  This  troubled  her,  and  she  did  not  dare  again 
to  send  for  him,  althouo:h  she  felt  that  she  "  ouojht  to 
be  confessed."  We  told  her  to  confess  her  sins  to  God, 
and  beseech  him  for  the  sake  of  Christ  to  pardon  her, 
that  the  blessed  Jesus  was  the  all-atoninof  sacrifice 
and  one  Great  High -Priest.  She  asked  if  it  were 
indeed  so,  and  while  we  were  praying  with  her,  weak 
and  emaciated  as  she  was,  she  arose  and  knelt  by  our 
side,  occasionally  sobbing  out  as  we  implored  forgive- 
ness in  her  behalf. 

Weeks  rolled  on,  and  at  every  opportunity  the 
Missionary  and  friends  visited  her,  endeavoring  to  teach 
her  to  lay  hold  on  Christ  by  simple  faith.     Her  mind 


128  MART    D . 

seemed  gradually  to  become  enlightened,  she  was  ex- 
ceedingly patient  and  submissive,  but  vrould  often  say? 
"  What  an  awful  place  to  die  in." 

Thus  eight  months  passed  by  on  that  bed  of  disease 
in  that  comfortless  room,  for  while  we  had  been 
enabled  to  supply  her  with  food  and  clothing  through 
the  kindness  of  friends  and  from  the  wardrobe  of 
the  Mission,  yet  sleep  was  almost  driven  from  her 
eyes  by  the  noises  in  the  adjoining  rooms  and 
houses  which  resounded  by  night,  as  well  as  by  day? 
with  the  most  awful  blasphemies  and  brawls.  Many 
times  while  praying  with  this  poor  woman  have  Chris- 
tian hearts  been  almost  appalled  at  the  sounds  which 
broke  upon  their  ear.  But  even  in  Coiu  Bay^  close  hy 
the  pit  of  darJcness^  God  heard  and  answered  prayer  ; 
comfort  was  poured  into  that  dying  woman's  heart,  and 
she  was  made  to  rejoice  in  the  forgiveness  of  her  sins. 
From  this  time  the  fear  of  death  was  taken  from  her, — • 
she  said  her  peace  was  made  with  God — and  she  could 
look  for  and  welcome  death. 

On  Sunday  Kov.  6,  1853,  in  our  usual  visit,  we  found 
her  greatly  changed ;  she  was  fast  falling  away,  and 
when  I  entered  her  room,  she  did  not  at  first  recognize 
me,  but  when  I  approached  the  bed  and  said,  "  Marv 
how  are  you  to  day  2"     She  smiled  her  recognition 


MART    D .  129 

stretched  out  her  hand,  and  answered,  "  Almost  gone." 
"  Are  you  still  happy  in  God,  Mary  ?"  "  Oh  yes,  I 
would  not  get  well  again,  for  any  thing."  "  What  are 
your  feelings  now  towards  Charles  ?" — the  husband  to 
whose  cruel  treatment,  she  attributed  her  sufferings,  and 
whom  she  had  declared  herself  unable  to  forgive.  "  Oh, 
ma'am"  (placing  her  hand  upon  her  heart,)  "  I  forgive 
him  from  here,  and  I  have  been  praying  that  my  death 
might  bring  him  to  God,  I  am  willing,  yes  ma'am,  I 
long  to  die,  and  be  with  Christ,  I  shall  soon  be  in  a 
better  habitation  than  this.  She  then,  in  strong 
language,  expressed  her  gratitude  for  the  kindness,  and 
care  she  had  received.  On  the  Friday  following,  she 
sent  for  me  about  ten  o'clock.  The  rain  was  pouring 
in  torrents,  and  as  I  left  the  rail-car,  with  the  little  girl 
who  had  been  sent  for  me,  a  gentleman  standing  on 
the  corner,  seemed  to  wonder  what  could  be  our 
errand  in  that  neighborhood,  and  followed  us  to  the 
house.  He  was  told  the  facts,  and  as  he  turned  away, 
remarked,  "  I  am  utterly  surprised  that  any  lady  would 
venture  in  such  a  place  as  this,  to  see  any  body."  He 
little  knew  the  changes  which  three  years  had  wrought 
in  that  locality.  We  found  Mary  in  a  kind  of  slumber, 
but  the  woman  who  had  been  engaged  to  watch  by  her, 
said,  "  Mary  here  is  your  friend,  Mrs. ,  who  has  come 


180  THE     DYING     MOTHER. 

at  your  bidding."  At  the  sound  of  my  voice,  she 
turned  her  head,  opened  her  eyes,  and  smiled.  "  Mary, 
is  Jesus  precious  to  you  now  ?"  Clasping  her  hands,  an 
affirmative  nod  was  the  answer.  "  Do  you  feel  that  you 
will  soon  stand  before  your  God,  and  are  you  happy 
at  the  thought  ?"  "  Yes,"  was  the  answer.  "  Are  you 
resting  and  trusting  in  Christ  alone  ?"  "  Yes."  "  Shall  I 
pray  with  you,  Mary  ?"  an  affirmative  look  was  her  only 
reply.  "We  kneeled  at  her  bed-side  for  the  last  time,  her 
hands  were  tightly  clasped  in  prayer,  and  in  this  manner 
she  lay  about  an  hour,  when  her  Master  called  her,  we 
himably  trust,  from  her  dark  abode  on  earth,  to  one 
of  the  "  many  mansions"  prepared  for  those  who  love 
him. — 

"  Tenant  of  a  hovel  for  a  day, 
Thou  art  heir  of  the  universe  forever." 


"  The  shadow  of  the  grave  was  nigh, 

But  to  her  face  was  given 
A  holy  light  from  that  far  home. 

Where  she  was  hastening — Heaven !" 

In  the  winter  of  1851  a  fine,  hearty,  frank-looting  lad  at- 
tracted our  attention  by  his  excellent  bass  voice,  and  we  in- 
invariably  looked  for  him  at  the  opening  of  the  school.     In 


i3  O^ 


THE  UYING  MOTHER. 


THE    DYING    MOTHER.  131 

a  little  while  he  got  the  soubriquet  of  Chorister  among  the 
children,  and  we  would  ask  him  to  raise  a  tune,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  superintendent.  We  learned  his  residence,  and 
visited  his  parents ;  found  them  industrious,  but  poor  Eo- 
man  Catholics.  The  mother  appeared  very  feeble.  There 
were  sis  children — four  of  their  own,  and  two  orphans 
ef  a  deceased  sister.  We,  learned  also,  that  the  eldest 
boy  (our  chorister)  was  the  greatest  help  to  the  parents 
Dy  selling  newspapers  in  the  morning,  and  extras  when  issu- 
ed. We  invited  them  to  our  mission  school.  The  children 
came,  improved  greatly,  and  we  soon  felt  a  most  lively  inter- 
est in  their  welfare. 

"  The  eldest  boy  came  as  often  as  he  could  the  second  year, 
as  he  had  so  far  advanced  in  his  business  of  news-selling  as 
to  be  able  to  obtain  the  situation  of  newsboy  for  the  first 
fifty  miles  on  the  New  York  and  Erie  Railroad.  This  situar 
tion  he  kept  until  the  awful  accident  which  occurred  one 
evening  when  he  was  in  the  car.  Our  readers  may  recollect 
a  boy  being  thrown  from  the  car,  and  almost  buried  in  the 
ground.  This  was  our  chorister  boy.  The  circumstance  so  in- 
timidated him  that  he  could  never  be  persuaded  to  go  again 
in  the  cars,  and  we  obtained  a  situation  for  him  to  learn  a 
trade. 

"  We  found  the  other  children  equally  interesting,  and 
they  soon  learned  to  read  with  facUity.  We  gave  one  of  the 
younger  boys  a  Bible,  and  told  him  it  was  a  rule  of  the 
school  to  present  a  Bible,  with  gilt  edges,  with  the  name  in- 
scribed, to  every  child  who  should  commit  to  memory  the 
Saviour's  sermon  on  the  Mount — the  5th,  6th  and  7th  chap- 
ters of  Matthew.  The  boy  promised  to  try,  and  next  Sab- 
bath  came  to  school  with  the  chapters  committed  to  memory 
The  children  were  regular  attendants  upon  the  day-school 
iilSD,  and  the  ladies  of  the  mission  took  the  en  lire  chai-ge  Cf 


132  THE    DYING    MOTHER. 

clothing  them.  This  opened  an  intercourse  with  tha 
parents,  and  they  looked  to  us  for  aid  in  sickness,  and  advice 
in  health. 

"  One  day,  last  fall,  the  daughter  came  to  me  to  say  her 
mother  was  very  ill,  and  wished  to  see  me.  I  went  immedi- 
ately, and  found  her  quite  ill  with  cancer  of  the  stomach,  and 
in  great  agony.  We  sent  from  the  mission  wardrobe,  both 
clothing  and  bedding  to  make  her  more  comfortable ;  visited 
her  very  often,  and  were  careful  to  prove  to  her  that  her 
temporal  comforts  were  subjects  of  our  thought  and  care ; 
for  it  is  a  fact,  that  if  this  course  is  not  pursued,  the  people 
of  this  locality  will  not  listen  carefully  to  what  you  say  about 
their  spiritual  interests.  Their  confidence  in  your  sincerity 
once  gained,  you  have  access  to  their  hearts,  and  they  will 
give  attention,  believing  you  are  truly  their  friend. 

"  I  hinted,  from  time  to  time,  that  she  might  not  recover, 
hoping  to  draw  her  out.  I  found  her  one  day  much  changed, 
her  disease  making  rapid  progress  on  her  poor  body.  She 
then  told  me  her  physician  gave  her  but  Kttle  hope  of  recov- 
ery, I  asked  her  if  she  herself  entertained  any  hopes  of  re- 
covery. She  replied  she  did  not.  '  WeU,  my  dear  friend, 
said  I,  '  how  does  the  future  look  to  you  ?  Are  you  prepar- 
ed for  the  great  change  of  worlds  ?'  She  answered,  '  I  trust 
in  God ;  he  will  prepare  me.'  '  "What  makes  you  think  you 
will  be  saved,  and  on  what  do  you  ground  your  hopes  that 
God  will  prepare  you  V  I  inquired.  '  0,  madam,'  said  she, 
' '  God  is  good — ^he  is  mercifal  to  a  poor  creature  like  myself ' 
'  So  he  is,'  said  I, '  good  as  well  as  merciful,  and  just  as  well 
as  good.  -He  is  a  God  of  justice,  and  has  distinctly  said,  in 
Ills  holy  word,  that-without  pardon  and  change  of  heart  we 
cannot  enjoy  his  presence.'  '  But  how  is  a  poor  creature  like 
rie  to  know  if  God  does  pardon  ?'  I  tried  to  point  her 
to  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world ; 


THE    DTINa     MOTHER.  133 

showed  her  the  necessity  of  the  new  bh*th  ;  and  tried  to  ex- 
plain the  goodness  of  God  in  the  witness  of  the  Spirit.  She 
listened  with  profound  attention,  and  bid  me  talk  on.  I  then 
told  her  of  the  Saviour's  conversation  with  Nicodemus, 
(which  was  all  new  to  her ;)  of  the  impossibiL'ty  of  an  im- 
pure human  creature's  living  with  God  and  his  angels  without 
change.  She  asked,  "  But  how  am  I  to  get  this  change  ?  I 
am  willing ;  yes,  I  long  to  live  with  God  when  I  die.'  I  re- 
plied, '  it  is  only  by  confessuig  our  sins  to  God,  and  begging 
him,  for  Christ's  sake,  to  change  our  heart.'  I  then  said, 
'  raise  your  heart  continually,  and  say.  Lord  Jesus  forgive  my 
sins,  pardon  my  offences,  and  give  me  the  witness  that  I  am 
thy  child — that  my  sins  are  pardoned.' 

"  I  prayed  with  her.  She  wept,  while  she  repeated  after 
me  nearly  every  word  of  our  supplicatory  prayer.  I  told 
her  to  continue  looking.  God  did  not  require  her  to  exhaust 
her  strength ;  (for  she  thought  it  was  not  praver  unless  she 
could  rise  and  kneel,  God  would  hear  the  unbreathed 
desire,  only  she  must  keep  looking,  and  expecting  the  change. 

"  The  next  Sabbath,  I  called  in  company  with  one  of  the 
gentlemen  of  our  advisory  committee,  who  spoke  in  a  very 
instructive  manner  to  her,  prayed,  and  committed  her  to 
God.  The  following  week  I  visited  her  again.  She  bright- 
ened up  as  I  entered,  saying,  '  0  how  glad  I  am  you  have 
come !  I  want  to  tell  you  what  has  happened  me.  On  Sun^ 
day  night  I  was  trying  to  lift  up  my  heart  as  you  and  the 
gentleman  told  me,  and  all  at  once  I  felt  the  patience  of  an 
angel  come  over  me.  I  felt  that  I  wanted  to  die  right 
away ;  and  it  has  lasted  me  ever  since.  I  have  not  felt  a 
pain  worth  thinking  about,  my  mind  is  so  happy.' 

" '  Does  this  change  prove  what  I  told  you,  that  God 
could  speak  to  the  heart  in  a  way  that  man  could  not  ex- 
plain ?'    '  0  yes,'  sherephed ;  '  all  that  was  toW  me  was  truth. 


134  THE     DYING     MOTHER. 

I  am  very  liappy.  I  can  leave  my  husband,  cWldren,  and  all 
in  the  hands  of  my  God.'  In  this  happy  frame  of  mind  she 
continued  for  several  weeks  before  her  death. 

"  One  Tuesday  morning,  about  eight  o'clock,  two  of  the 
children  came  to  my  house,  to  say  that  their  mother  was  dy- 
ing, and  wished  to  see  me.  I  left  my  breakfast,  and  hastened 
to  her  bedside.  When  I  entered,  she  had  her  eyes  closed, 
and  hands  clasped  in  prayer.  The  Spirit  had  taught  her  to 
make  intercession  in  language  that  need  not  be  uttered.  I 
beckoned  the  children  not  to  disturb  her,  but  they  were  anx- 
ious she  should  see  me.  I  told  her  I  was  ready  to  do  any- 
thing she  might  wish.  '  Well,'  she  replied,  '  I  am  about  to 
leave  you,  my  dear,  dear  friend,'  clasping  my  hands,  and  kiss- 
ing them  over  and  over  again.  '  And  I  have  sent  for  you 
to  ask  you  to  take  the  care  of  my  children.'  I  then,  for  the 
first  time,  said  to  her,  '  You  are  aware  that  I  am  a  Protest- 
ant, are  you  not  ?  And  in  giving  me  your  children  I  must 
do  what  I  should  conceive  to  be  my  duty  toward  them. 
Their  education  must  be  such  as  is  directed  by  the  word  of 
God.'  'I  know  all  that,'  she  replied ;  '  will  you  have  a  look 
over  them?'  'I  will,'  I  answered.  She  then  gave  me  the 
children,  one  by  one,  exhorting  them  to  be  good  and  obedi- 
ent ;  and  said,  when  putting  the  two  orphans  under  my  care, 
.'  These  are  double  orphans ;  God  have  mercy  upon  them.' 
The  husband  now  came  in,  and  she  repeated  to  him,  in  sub- 
stance, all  we  had  said.  He  seemed  affected,  and  said  he  felt 
we  would  have  a  motherly  oversight  of  the  children. 

"  I  asked  the  famUy  to  kneel  with  me,  and  ask  God's  bless- 
ing upon  them,  their  mother,  and  myself;  and  while  we 
commended  each  to  God  by  name,  with  their  father  and 
mother,  our  own  hearts  partook  of  the  audible  sympathy  of 
the  family,  and  it  was  a  most  heartfelt,  solemn  time.     When 


THE     DYING     MOTHEr's     LEGACY.  135 

we  rose  from  our  knees  I  sent  for  a  friend  of  the  mission, 
who  had  often  called  on  the  family,  with  our  former  mission- 
ary, Mr.  Luckey.  He  sang  the  *  Dying  Christian ;'  and 
when  repeating  the  words,  '  Tell  me,  my  soul,  can  this  be 
death  ?'  she  exclaimed,  *  0,  no ;  it  is  closing  my  eyes  to  open 
them  on  God.'  She  was  both  tranquil  and  triumphant  in 
death,  and  while  repeating  David's  passage,  'through  the 
valley  and  shadow  of  death,'  she  said,  '  I  understand  it  all ; 
I  fear  no  evil,  for  God  is  with  meJ 

"  In  the  afternoon  I  called  again  with  two  Christian  friends  ; 
she  was  too  far  spent  to  converse  much,  but  regretted  she 
had  forgotten  to  give  me  a  poor  woman's  blessing  in  the 
morning,  which  she  then  did.  I  asked  her  if  she  would  not 
like  me  to  call  for  a  minister  or  priest.  She  said,  '  No  ; 
better  than  all,  the  Lord  Jesus  was  with  her ;'  and  thus  she 
continued  communing  with  her  God  till  the  summons  came. 
The  last  thing  she  said  was  to  her  husband  :  '  No  liquor  at 
my  burial;  no  wake  over  my  body ;''  and  soon  after  she  ex- 
pired." 


"  Her  prayer  is  heard — ^it  is  traced  above 

In  the  glowing  light  of  a  mother's  love ; ' 
And  now  when  at  rest  ia  her  silent  grave, 

That  prayer  shall  have  power  to  guard  and  save." 

She  had  lon^  been  confined  to  her  bed,  sufFeriuo-  the 
intensest  anguish,  but  during  that  time  through  the 
instrumentality   of   friends    of   the    Mission,    she    had 


136  THE    DYING-    MOTHER'S    LEGACY. 

been  instructed  in  tlie  cardinal  truths  of  Christianity  ; 
and  through  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  had  heen 
enabled  to  exercise  faith  in  Christ.  For  many  days 
perfect  peace  and  triumphant  joy  had  reigned  succes- 
sively within  ner  heart,  and  the  light  of  Heaven 
seemed  reflected  on  her  wan  and  weary  face — but  now 
the  last  hour  had  come,  and  a  cloud  of  anxiety  was 
resting  there.  Had  the  promises  failed  in  their  fulfill- 
ment ?  Had  the  Rock  of  Ages  proved  an  uncertain 
resting-place  ?  Did  the  soul  trembling  on  the  verge  of 
eternity,  doubt  its  personal  acceptance,  and  fear  to 
enter  the  unknown  world,  l^ay,  nay,  'twas  none  of 
these.  Love  reigned,  faith  was  triumphant,  the  soul 
seemed  anxious  to  escape,  but  there  were  those  around 
that  dying  bed  upon  •  whom  that  mother's  eye  was 
resting  with  deep,  unutterable  solicitude  Her  children 
living  there  in  an  atmosphere  of  sin,  surrounded  on 
every  side  by  vice  in  its  greatest  forms.  Six  children 
to  be  left  without  any  of  the  restraining  influence  which 
home  sanctified  by  maternal  love,  (though  lacking 
everything  else)  always  exerts.  Self,  with  its  happiness 
and  its  prospects,  was  forgotten,  and  gazing  upon  the 
anxious  weeping  children,  she  exclaimed,  "  Go,  O  go  for 
Mrs  D.  Let  me  see  her  once  again  before  I  die — she 
has   helped  me  ki  my  troubles,   let  me  see   her  once 


THE    DYING     MOTHEr's     LEGACY.  137 

again."  Two  of  the  children  were  despatched  and  in  a 
little  time  her  kind  friend  was  by  the  bed  of  the  dying 
woman.  That  closing  scene  is  depicted  in  the  preceed- 
ing  narrative. 

The  mother  was  laid  in  the  cold  grave,  and  deep 
was  the  solicitude  of  that  lady's  heart  for  the 
children  thus  solemnly  committed  to  her  care.  They 
belonged  to  the  J?Iission-school,  and  were  regular  in 
their  attendance,  but  there  was  evidence,  sad  and  cer- 
tain that  they  were  suffering  from  the  evil  influences 
which  surrounded  them.  The  only  hope  of  permanently 
benefitting  them  was  to  remove  them  to  a  better 
atmosphere,  and  many"  diiBculties  stood  in  the  way  of 
this  arrangement.  First  the  father's  and  children's 
consent  was  to  be  gained,  and  when  that  was  secured, 
a  home  was  to  be  found,  such  as  the  friends  would  be 
willing  to  entrust  them  to. 

The  first  difficulty  was  overcome  by  kind  and  gentle 
entreaty,  the  second  by  the  kind  offer  of  a  home  from 
Mr.  C.  L.  Brace,  connected  with  the  "  Children's  Aid 
Society,"  who  stood  security  for  the  Home  which  he 
had  selected.  On  Wednesday,  the  26th  of  October, 
several  ladies  met  at  the  Mission,  to  consult  and  act  as 
passing  circumstances  dictated.  "We  found  Mrs.  D. 
preparing  Barney  and  Alice  for  their  journey  to  their 


138  THE    DYING    MOTHER'S     LEGACY- 

new  home.  These  two  had  been  selected  as  beinor  most 
exposed,  they  were  fine  looking  youths  about  14  and 
16  years  of  age.  The  wardrobes  were  searched,  and 
after  a  comfortable  bath,  they  were  clad  in  strong  and 
suitable  clothing.  A  second  suit  for  each  was  then 
secured,  a  new  Bible  with  their  names  as  members  of 
the  Mission-school  and  some  Sunday  school  books  were 
added — sundry  little  tokens  calculated  to  please  were 
placed  in  tne  box — loving  words  were  spoken,  good 
advice  given,  a  bright  future  depicted,  correspondence 
promised,  and  hours  passed  unheeded  by.  Three 
o'clock  arrived,  the  hour  for  the  dismissal  of  the  school, 
and  Alice  expressed  a  wish  to  say  good-bye  to  her 
schoolmates.  Mrs.  D.  led  her  into  the  school,  and 
in  simple  language  referred  to  her  past  history  and  her 
present  destination.  The  tear  trembled  in  the  eye 
of  the  child,  and  the  lady's  voice  grew  husky  as  she 
portrayed  the  dying  scene  and  told  of  the  solemn  trust 
reposed  in  her.  The  children  of  the  school  seemed 
quiet  and  subdued,  and  when  the  lady  asked  them 
if  they  would  remember  Alice  when  they  said  their 
prayersj  an  aj03rmative  response  broke  from  every  lip. 

Then  all  shook  hands  with  Barney  and  Alice  and 
departed  to  their  homes.  The  boat  did  not  leave 
until   six,  and   it   was   now   but  half-past  three.      A 


THE     DYING     MOTHER's     LEGACY.  139 

prayer-meeting  had  been  appointed  by  the  Missionary, 
and  a  few  friends  were  assembled  to  pray  for  the 
prosperity  of  the  Mission.  The  children  accompanied 
us  to  the  Chapel,  and  earnest,  fervent  prayers  were 
offered  to  their  mother's  God,  that  those  children 
might  be  guarded  on  their  journey,  and  be  brought  in 
safety  to  its  end — that  the  home  selected  might  prove 
such  as  we  hoped,  and  that  in  future  years  these 
children  might  prove  themselves  a  blessing  to 
others. 

The  parting  hour  came,  the  farewell  words  were 
spoken,  and  they  departed  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Adams 
to  the  steamboat. 

While  they  were  waiting,  Mr.  Adams  related  to 
Barney  an  incident,  that  he  had  known  of  a  poor  boy 
departing  under  far  less  favorable  circumstances  to  the 
West,  who  became  one  of  the  Chief  Judges  in  the 
State  in  which  he  resided.  The  boy's  eye  kindled,  his 
form  straitened  and  he  exclaimed,  "  you  shall  see,  what 
I  will  become  Mr.  Adams."  Several  o;entlemen  over- 
heard  the  conversation  and  expressed  much  interest  in 
the  children — Mr.  Adams  narrated  their  history,  and 
they  pi'omised  to  take  charge  of  them,  so  far  as  they 
travelled  the  same  path. 

Their  tickets  had   been  secured  and  all  was  ready. 


140 


THE     DYING     MOTHER'S     LEGACY. 


Alice  threw  lier  arms  around  her  kind  minister,  aa 
though  she  could  not  sever  that  last  kind  bond.  But  the 
bell  rang,  and  placing  them  hurriedly  in  the  steamboat 
which  was  to  carry  them  to  Piermont,  the  Missionary 
returned  strong  in  faith  and  hope,  that  the  Christian 
efforts  thus  put  forth  would  in  due  time  receive  their 
full  and  adequate  reward. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE     TWENTY-SHILLING     PIECE. 

" '  A  trifle' — granted — ^but  on  trivial  things 
'fhe  moral  destiny  of  ni£«i  oft  turns." 

In  tlie  winter  of  1850,  mj  servant  entered  the  parlor 
one  evening  quite  late,  to  inform  me  that  a  man  who 
seemed  in  great  distress  was  at  the  front  door,  sajing 
he  had  been  sent  to  my  address,  hearing  I  was  one  of 
the  ladies  of  the  Home  Mission.  It  was  inconvenient 
for  me  to  see  the  man  at  the  time,  (having  a  party  of 
friends  spending  the  evening  with  me,)  but  I  felt 
inclined  to  help  him,  and  giving  the  servant  some  money 
to  procure  his  supper  and  lodging,  I  told  her  to  bid 
him  come  to  me  in  the  morning. 

'Next  morning  he  came,  looking  pale,  sick,  and 
emaciated.  On  inquiry  I  learned  he  was  an  English- 
man, and  had  been  induced  to  come  to  this  country  to 
dissipate  the  melancholy  which  settled  upon  his  mind 
after  the  death  of  a  beloved  wife.  He  had  suiScient 
means  when  he  arrived  (in  July  before)  to  have  kept 
him  several  months,  until  he  could  have  procured  a 


142 


THE     TWENTY -SHILLING     PIECE. 


situation,  but  immediately  on  his  arrival  he  had  been 
seized  with  a  disease  which  became  chronic,  and  he 
had  been  obliged  not  only  to  spend  all  his  means,  but 
to  dispose  of  every  article  of  clothing,  and  in  their 
stead  take  up  a  suit  which  was  little  else  than  rags. 
.Almost  the  first  question  I  asked,  after  he  had  given 
me  his  history,  was,  "  Are  you  a  strictly  temperate 
man  ?"  Pes,  madam,  I  am.  You  can  have  no  proof 
but  my  word,  but  I  am  in  every  sense  a  strictly  temper- 
ate man,  although  my  appearance  is  sadly  the  reverse 
of  the  condition  you  expect  to  find  a  sober,  honest  man 
in."  There  was  such  an  air  of  sincerity  in  all  he  said 
and  withal  such  a  woe-begone  expression  of  counte- 
nance, that  I  felt  all  the  sympathy  in  my  heart  roused. 
I  sent  to  a  neighbor,  who  had  kindly  offered  to  assist 
me  when  a  true  case  presented,  for  a  suit  of  men's 
clothes.  They  were  sent,  including  hat,  boots,  &c.  I 
gave  him  money  for  his  breakfast  and  shaving ;  told 
him  to  take  the  clothes,  and  return  to  me  again  in  the 
course  of  the  day.  He  left,  with  great  thankfulness, 
and  about  two  hours  afterward  called  again,  looking 
like  another  beinsf.  I  imagined  he  looked  even  in 
better  health  than  in  the  morning.  I  then  felt  anxious 
to  know  how  he  found  his  way  to  the  Five  Points.  He 
replied,  that  when  his  money  was  all  spent,  and  nothing 


THE     TWENTY- SHILLING     PIECE.         113 

remained  in  prospect  but  a  deatli  in  the  poor-house  He 
thouglit  of  some  friends  who  had  left  England  some 
years  before  (but  who  were  in  very  reduced  circmn- 
stances)  that  wer  eliving  in  New- York,  somewhere.  He 
succeeded  in  finding  them  in  Anthony-street,  near  Cow 
Bay,  and  they  kindly  offered  to  give  him  a  corner  of 
their  room  to  lie  upon ;  but  they  were  so  poor 
themselves  that  they  could  do  nothing  more  for  him. 
He  then  learned  that  the  Ladies'  Home  Mission  would 
help  him  to  clothes,  and  might  possibly  obtain  a 
situation  for  him. 

The  more  I  saw  of  the  man,  the  more  enlisted  my 
feelings  became,  and  the  strong  intelligence  which 
marked  his  conversation  proved  to  me  he  had  been 
both  well-bred  and  educated.  I  inquired  what  business 
he  thought  he  could  engage  in,  with  his  weak  state  of 
health.  He  said  he  had  been  "  an  out-door  clerk  at 
home,  and  wrote  evenings ;"  and  his  doctor  had  said  he 
should  try  and  find  some  out-door  employment  now.  I 
asked  him  if  he  thought  he  could  undertake  to  get 
subscribers  for  periodicals.  He  replied  that  that  would 
just  suit  him,  as  he  was  better  acquainted  with  books 
than  anything  else. 

I  gave  him  a   twenty-shilling  gold  piece,  (a  small 


144  THE     TWENTY-SHILLIKG     TIECE. 

sum,  the  reader  will  say,  to  establish  a  man  in  business,) 
provided  him  with  a  carpet-bag,  and  told  him  to  go  to 
Harpers'  and  get  some  of  their  cheap  monthly  issues, 
and  get  a  few  from  Virtue's,  and  make  the  attempt, 
and  to  come  to  me  in  a  few  days,  if  he  thought  he 
could  succeed,  and  we  would  help  him  still  further.  In 
about  a  week  he  called,  but  I  was  not  at  home.  Months 
rolled  on ;  he  again  called  but  I  was  in  the  country. 

I  saw  nothing  more  of  my  man,  and  I  thought  it 
would  prove  perhaps  another  of  the  many  instances  of 
ingratitude  which  we  meet  with  in  passing  through 
life.  But  I  was  mistaken.  On  "New  Year's  day, 
when  friends  were  making  their  accustomed  calls,  a 
man  was  standing  near  the  house  waiting  until  a 
number  of  gentlemen  passed  out,  when  he  rang  the 
bell,  gave  the  servant  a  card  with  his  name  written 
upon  it,  asking  her  at  the  same  time  to  ascertain  "  if  I 
was  quite  alone,  as  he  did  not  wish  to  intrude  upon 
company."  She  thought  this  rathex  a  strange  request 
for  such  a  gentlemanly-looking  man  to  make,  but 
replied  that  I  was  quite  alone.  He  came  into  the 
parlor,  and  I  did  not  at  first  recognise  him,  but  on  his 
beginning  at  once  to  apologize  for  calling  on  ^N'ew 
Year's  day,  I  recognised  his  voice. 

He  continued,  "  No  one  madam,  that  calls  on  you 


THE    TWENTY-SHILLING    PIECE.         145 

to-day  calls  to  pay  a  visit  of  gratitude  ;  I  come  to  ex- 
press mine."  Expecting  to  hear  of  some  efficient  help 
from  his  friends,  or  some  good  fortune  that  had  met  him, 
I  congratulated  him  on  his  improved  health  and  appear- 
ance, and  asked  him  what  had  wrought  the  change.  I 
felt  humhled  when  he  told  me  that  my  poor  little 
offering  of  twenty  shillings  had,  with  the  blessing  of 
God,  effected  it  all.  He  then  said  the  evening  he  came 
to  our  dwelling  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  put  an  end 
to  his  existence  if  help  did  not  come  ;  but  he  had  great 
reason  to  bless  God,  who  had  not  only  given  him  tem- 
poral relief,  but  had  enabled  him  to  call  upon  God  in 
the  hour  of  trouble,  and  He  had  heard  his  prayer  ;  his 
heart  was  changed,  and  he  owed  his  Maker  a  debt  of 
gratitude  he  could  never  pay. 

He  said  the  Messrs.  Harper  treated  him  very  kindly, 
and  afforded  him  every  facility  in  his  work.  And  he 
has  succeeded  beyond  his  most  sanguine  expectations, 
delivering  his  books  in  New- York,  Brooklyn,  and 
"Williamsburgh.  Drawing  his  purse  from  his  pocket, 
he  said,  "  I  have  not  only  this  good  suit  of  clothes  upon 
me,  but  I  have  sent  out  money  for  my  only  son,  and 
h-ave  saved  in  the  year  besides,  fourty  dollars."  He  had 
paid  for  his  lodging  at  his  friend's,  and  was  now  board- 
ing at  a  druggist's  in  a  respectable  part  of  the  city.     I 


146  THE    TWENTY-SHILLING    PIECE. 

wept  at  Lis  recital,  and  in  truth  it  was  to  me  tiie  most 
pleasant  visit  of  the  New  Year's  day. 

He  appeared  afraid  to  take  my  time,  and  seemed 
hurt  when  I  refused  to  allow  him  to  return  me  the 
money.  Next  spring  he  called  on  me  to  say  his  son 
had  arrived,  and  he  was  still  prospering  in  his  business, 
making  from  twelve  to  fifteen  dollars  a  week.  He 
seemed  as  if  he  never  conld  express  his  gratitude  for  his 
comforts,  and  read  to  me  a  letter  in  answer  to  one  he 
had  written  to  England  expressive  of  his  great  thank- 
fulness. 

A  few  months  after,  a  card  accompanied  by  a  hook 
was  left  at  my  door,  with  the  request  that  I  would  not 
pain  him  with  the  refusal  of  this  small  token  of  grati- 
tude. Since  then,  we  hear  of  his  continued  prosperity. 
This  is  but  one  of  the  many  instances  which  have 
brought  to  light  the  fact  that  there  are  those  living  in 
the  Five  Points  who  have  once  known  and  seen  better 
days ;  that  many  hundreds  are  virtuously  poor,  and  that 
they  are  alive  to  kindness,  and  most  grateful  for  our 
attentions  to  them  and  their  children. 

During  the  past  year  alone  over  sixty  children  have 
been  placed  in  good  homes — boys  at  trades,  women 
supplied  with  work,  and  fifteen  hundred  have  signed 
the  temperance  pledge.     We,  therefore,  feel  greatly  en- 


THE    ■WITHERED    ARM.  147 

oou  raged,  and  believe  our  labor  will  not  be  in  vain,  for 
in  due  time  we  will  reap  if  we  faint  not. 


"What  good  a  little  kindness  may  effect ! 
"What  pain  relieve — what  destiny  avert !" 

Passing  up  Cross-street  one  bleak  winter's  morning, 
I  observed  a  little  girl,  whose  appearance  was  so  forlorn 
and  sad,  that  I  felt  anxious  to  know  where  she  lived, 
and  what  caused  her  intense  expression  of  sorrow.  I 
therefore  asked  her  name  and  where  she  lived,  and 
desired  her  to  take  me  to  see  her  mother.  "  I  have  no 
mother,"  she  replied,  "but  my  father  lives  in  the  attic 
of  No.  — ,  Cross-street,  and  you  may  go  up  and  see  him." 

I  followed  her  to  the  third  floor,  up  a  narrow,  dirty 
stair-case.  Knocking  at  the  door,  we  were  met  by  a 
man  who  seemed  both  surprised  and  pleased  to  see 
me  in  his  wretched,  miserable  home — for  home  it  was,  al- 
though destitute  of  chair  or  table.  In  the  middle  of  the 
room,  which  was  about  nine  feet  square,  stood  a  small 
cylinder-stove,  the  pipe  passing  through  a  pane  of  the 
window.  Beside  the  stove  was  a  basket,  containing  a 
small  supply  of  shavings.     Upon  a  few  dirty  rags,  which 


I 


148  THE    WITHEimD    ARM 

covered  some  shavings,  lay  a  sick  boy,  about  five 
years  old.  Upon  the  stove  some  miserable  food  was 
cooking,  the  fumes  of  which,  mingling  with  the  smoke  of 
pine  shavings,  filled  the  room,  causing  the  little  sufferer 
to  cough  constantly. 

The  father  appearing  to  be  perfectly  sober,  I  asked 
him  what  had  brought  upon  him  this  extreme  destitu- 
tion. He  replied,  "Want  of  work  and  poverty," 
adding  that  he  had  always  got  on  well  until  his  good 
wife  died,  about  four  years  before,  and  then  misfortune 
took  hold  of  him.  He  had  nearly  lost  the  sight  of  one 
eye,  and  during  the  stages  of  its  inflammation  and 
subsequent  loss,  had  been  obliged  to  spend  all  he  had 
earned  or  saved.  The  loss  of  his  eye  preventing  him 
from  carrying  his  hod,  he  had  no  other  means  left  for 
his  support  than  visiting  the  markets  and  carrying 
baskets  for  the  purchasers  at  the  stalls,  his  little  girl 
going  out  daily  to  beg  the  food  she  would  prepare 
(young  as  she  was)  for  his  return.  Sometimes  he 
made  but  25  cents  a  day.  I  asked  him  if  he  had 
signed  the  pledge.  "  Yes,  indeed,  madam,"  was  the 
reply,  "  more  than  twelve  years  ago,  when  I  married 
my  wife,  I  took  the  pledge,  and  have  never  hroTcen  itP 
I  asked  him  if  it  would  not  be  well  to  let  us  get  good 
places  for  the  children,  and    then  he  could  support 


THE     "VVITnERED     ARM.  149 

himself  more  comfortably,  for  I  had  learned  in  the 
course  of  conversation,  that  he  paid  a  dollar  a  week 
for  his  wretched  room,  and  was  often  left  without  a 
cent  when  the  rent  was  paid.  But  he  said  nothing 
in  the  world  could  induce  him  to  part  with  his  children 
for  he  had  promised  his  dying  wife  not  to  part  with 
them,  under  any  circumstances.  "When  about  leaving, 
I  offered  the  girl  a  piece  of  money.  I  found  she  could 
not  reach  out  the  hand  next  to  me  to  receive  it,  and 
that  it  hung  powerless  by  her  side.  I  took  the 
withered  arm,  covered  with  filthy  rags,  and  could  have 
wept  over  the  expression  of  her  face  when  I  said, 
"  Dear  girl,  how  did  this  come,  and  how  long  has  your 
hand  been  so  useless  ?"  "  Indeed,  madam,"  the  father 
replied,  "  ahe  went  to  bed  well  at  night ;  the  visitation 
of  God  came,  and  in  the  morning  she  was  just  as  you 
see  her.  I  do  not  complain ;  but  the  poor  dear 
child  will  never  get  over  it ;  she  scarcely  ever  smUes." 

"With  a  heavy  heart  I  took  the  girl  home  with  me 
the  next  day,  had  her  well  washed  and  dressed  from 
head  to  foot,  then  had  her  taken  to  a  physician,  who 
said  her  arm  was  paralyzed,  most  probably  from 
exposure  and  cold  at  night.  The  arm  was  electro- 
magnetized,  and  every  pains  taken  to  restore  its  use, 
but  it  was  only  partially  restored.     Subsequent  visits 


150  THE    "WITHERED     ARM. 

proved  all  the  statements  of  the  man  to  be  true,  and 
never  have  I  seen  a  more  touching  proof  of  devoted 
parental  love  than  in  this  poor  man  in  his  miserable 
habitation.  The  little  boy,  with  care,  was  restored 
to  health.  The  children  were  placed  in  school,  and 
more  profitable  work  was  soon  obtained  for  the  man. 
But  the  poor  children  were  still  left  daily  surrounded 
with  everything  to  contaminate,  without  any  one  to  look 
after  them,  or  to  attend  to  the  washino:  of  their  clothes. 
Even  the  comfortable  clothes  the  Mission  provided  were 
soon  so  filthy  that  we  had  to  take  them  oif.  On  one  of 
my  visits  I  asked  him  if  it  would  not  be  well  for  him  to 
look  out  for  a  suitable  companion  who  would  take  charge 
of  his  children,  and  by  taking  in  work,  be  a  help  to  him. 
He  smiled,  and  said  he  had  thought  that  was  all  that 
could  make  a  man  of  him  again  in  feeling  ;  and  he  did 
know  an  excellent  woman,  who  lived  in  New-Jersey, 
with  whom  he  had  been  acquainted  for  fifteen  years ; 
and  he  often  thought  if  God  directed  him  he  would 
like  to  be  married  to  her. 

Without  much  ceremony  he  visited  his  old  friend, 
moved  his  residence,  and  became  known  by  his  unifoim 
sobriety  and  honesty.  He  soon  presented  so  good 
an  appearance  that  he  was  made  the  agent  of  the 
tenement  house  in  which  he  lived.     He  married  the 


THE    WITHERED     ARM.  151 

choice  of  his  heart,  and  now  they  are  happy.  I  visit 
them  in  their  new  home,  and  find  every  little  comfort 
in  their  dwelling  ;  the  house  the  perfection  of  neatness  ; 
the  children  well  managed.  The  fjirl  has  learned 
both  to  read  and  write,  and  they  often  tell  me  very 
interesting  histories  in  the  Bible  she  has  read  to  them. 
The  man  seems  like  a  changed  bein^,  brio-h.t  and 
happy.  The  woman  assists  in  supporting  the  family 
by  taking  in  sewing  and  washing,  and  although  nearly 
three  years  have  elapsed,  I  have  seen  a  continued  im- 
provement in  them  all,  and  in  no  instance  have  felt 
that  my  confidence  was  misplaced,  or  my  advice  un- 
wisely given.  These  people,  in  many  instances,  only 
want  some  one  to  tell  them  what  to  do.  They  need 
to  be  instructed  in  the  very  first  steps  toward  making 
their  condition  better ;  and  we  generally  find  them 
very  teachable.  In  some  respects  it  would  be  rather 
hazardous  to  ad%ase  a  man  to  marry  in  the  midst 
of  his  destitution  and  misery ;  but  here  no  other 
remedy  could  meet  the  case — the  father  obstinately  re- 
fusing to  allow  his  children  to  be  taken  from  him,  even  if 
they  were  placed  in  better  homes  and  well  provided  for. 
And  any  one  to  see  them  now  in  their  comfortable  home, 
with  their  neatly-furnished  apartments,  would  say,  it 
could  not  be  so,  if  woman  had  not  a  share  or  hand  in  it. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE     CHILDREN     OF     THE     "fIYE     POINTS.'' 

"Ala? !  to  think  upon  a  child 
That  has  no  childish  days, 
"So  happy  home,  no  connscl  mild ; 
No  words  of  prayer  and  praise  I 

"■Man  from  the  cradle — 'tis  too  soon 

To  earn  their  daily  bread, 
And  heap  the  heat  and  toil  of  nooo 
Upon  an  infant's  head. 

"  To  labor  ere  their  strength  be  come. 

Or  starve — snch  is  the  doom 
That  makes,  of  many  a  hapless  home, 

One  long  and  living  tomb." 

When  tbe  ladies  commeEced  their  mission  in  this 
miserable  locality,  the  hope  of  rescuing  the  children 
from  the  almost  certain  result  of  corrupt  parental  ex- 
ample was  perhaps  the  strongest  feeling  that  influenced 
them. 

The  children  !  hundreds  of  them  with  drunken  fath- 
ers and  drunken  mothers,  who  made  no  provision  for 
their  comfort,  and  scarce  any  for  their  physical  exist- 
ence, beyond  the  miserable  dens  they  called  their 
homes,  and  in  which,  after  a  day  of  begging  and  per- 


THE     CHILDREN     OF    THE     FIVE     POINTS.     153 

haps  want,  and  after  a  day's  exposure  to  eveiy  evil  in- 
fluence, they  crept  to  sleep — greeted  with  oaths  and 
curses,  and  oft-times  with  stripes  and  heavy  blows  ! 
Children  !  precocious  in  self-reliance,  in  deceit,  in  every 
evil  passion,  while  the  better  nature  within  them  slum- 
bered or  had  been  destroyed  because  no  suitable  means 
had  ever  been  used  to  vivify  or  awaken  it ! 

"  For  here  the  order  was  reyersed, 

And  infancy,  like  age, 
Knew  of  existence  but  its  worst, 

One  duU  and  darkened  pao:e, 
"Written  with  tears  and  stamped  with  toil, 

Crushed  from  the  earliest  hour, 
"Weeds  darkening  on  the  bitter  soil 

That  never  knew  a  flower." 

The  ladies,  with  woman's  instinct  and  woman's  tact, 
recognized  them  not  only  as  depraved  little  human  be- 
ings, but  as  children  ;  their  young  hearts  beating  with 
childish  hopes  and  fears,  with  childish  yearnings  and 
desires ;  awake  to  every  tone  of  kindness,  and  yet  so 
unaccustomed  to  any  government  but  that  of  hasty 
blows  and  brutal  caprice,  that  it  seemed  almost  impos- 
sible to  subdue  and  retain  them  by  those  laws  of  love 
and  gentleness  which  yet  were  the  only  means  deemed 
expedient  or  useful.  There  are,  however,  bright  excep- 
tions. "We  gaze  on  a  few  sweet  young  faces,  and 
smooth  the  silken  hair  of  some  whose  appearance  de- 
clares maternal  care,  and  in  the  visits  made  we  find 


164    THE     CHILDREN    OF    THE    FIVE    POINTS. 

now  and  then  a  cleaner  home,  and  hear  all  a  tender 
mother's  anxiety  and  thankfulness  for  her  children  ex- 
pressed, and  listen  to  tales  of  privation  and  sufferings 
which  words  could  scarcely  exaggerate.  We  also  have 
occasionally  touching  illustrations  of  the  finer  shades 
of  character,  which  awaken  peculiar  sympathy  and 
hope.  On  one  of  the  regular  days  for  the  distribution 
of  clothing  a  lady  was  attracted  by  the  countenance 
of  a  pale,  weary-looking  child  about  nine  years  of  age. 
She  carried  with  diflSculty  a  large  baby,  more  than  a 
year  old,  and,  although  the  children  all  around  her 
were  full  of  life  and  hilarity,  she  sat  listless  and  una- 
mused,  no  smile  betraying  childish  interest  or  joy.  On 
inquiry,  Mrs.  Luckey  remarked,  "  That  child  has  a 
drunken  father  who  abuses  her  mother  dreadfully,  and 
she  lives  in  a  constant  state  of  terror  and  dread."  The 
lady  resolved  to  watch  over  that  little  girl,  and  throw 
some  sunshine  over  the  darkened  path  of  the  drunkai'd's 
child.  Closer  acquaintance  revealed  ?  maturity  of 
thought  and  a  strength  of  sympathy  with  her  suffering 
mother  touching  in  the  extreme.  She  came  regularly 
to  Sunday-school,  but  always,  during  the  session,  would 
whisper,  "Mrs.  Luckey,  please  let  me  run  home  and 
see  how  mother  does — I  am  afraid  father  will  come 
home  and  hurt  her,"  &c.     Her  little  heart  seemed  at 


THE    CHILDREN    OF    THE    FIVE    POINTS.      155 

rest,  and  her  face  had  an  abiding  look  of  weary- 
despondency.  After  some  acts  of  exceeding  violence, 
the  mother  was  obliged  to  complain  against  her  hus- 
band. Maggie  loved  her  father ;  for,  when  sober,  he 
was  kind,  and  she  pleaded,  "  0  mother !  do  not  let 
them  take  him  away,  for  what  shall  I  do  without  a 
father?"  He  was  committed  to  the  Tombs,  and  the 
next  morning  early,  Maggie  took  her  little  brother,  four 
years  of  age,  by  the  hand,  went  to  the  prison,  and  sat 
houi"  after  hour  by  the  window,  talking  to,  and  trying 
to  amuse  her  father  until  his  time  of  liberation  came. 
Of  late  her  countenance  has  brightened,  and  she  greets 
the  lady  (who  in  heart  adopted  her)  with  somewhat 
of  childish  glee. 

One  little  news-boy  was  found  who  regularly  paid  his 
drunken  mother's  rent  out  of  his  scanty  earnings,  and 
had  remained  comparatively  untainted  by  the  scenes  of 
vice  that  met  his  every  step. 

The  children  give  evidence  also  of  bright  intellect 
and  quick  perception.  One  afternoon  a  number  of 
them  had  collected  around  the  door  of  the  "  Old  Brew- 
ery," waiting  for  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Luckey.  The 
rain  poured  in  torrents,  and  they  stood  without  a  shel- 
ter of  any  kind.  Mr.  Luckey  opened  his  office  door, 
and  kindly  urged  them  to  run  home ;  that  Mrs.  L.  was 


THE    DYIITG    GIRL. 

detained  by  tlie  rain,  and  might  not  arrive  for  some 
time.  Turning  from  them,  he  dosed  the  door ;  but, 
quick  as  the  hghfcning's  flash,  his  ear  was  greeted  by  the 
full  chorus  of  one  of  their  hymns, 

"  We'll  stand  the  storm,  it  "sron't  be  long, 
We'll  anchor  by  and  bye," 

snd  they  stood  it  until  Mrs.  Luckey  appeared,  and  an- 
ehored  them  by  a  good  fire^  and  applied  the  hymn  thej 
Lad  so  sweetly  sung« 


*'  She  lay  down  in  her  ixjverly 

Toil  stricken  though  so  young, 
And  words  of  human  sorrow 

Fell  trembling  from  her  tongus. 

There  were  palace  homes  around  her  j 

And  pomp  and  pride  swept  by 
The  poor  deserted  chamber 

Where%tie  lay  down  to  die."— Mabt  How 

The  work  of  faith  is  blessed ;  but  when  the  fruit  is 
permitted  soon  to  appear,  we  may  and  ought  to  rejoico 
with  exceeding  joy.  Amid  many  discouragements,  wo 
have  always  been  comforted  and  strengthened  by  tho 
fitioeess  of  the  Sabbath  eohool ;  and  as  our  children  are 


THE     DYING     GIHL.  15? 

one  after  anotlier  translated  into  heaven  from  their  com- 
fortless homes  on  earth,  we  exult  in  imagination  of  the 
mighty  contrast  from  the  <3reary  cellars  and  garrets  of 
the  Five  Points,  to  the  radiant  paradise  of  God ;  from 
the  neglect  of  callous  and  degraded  human  hearts,  to 
the  eternal  and  everflowing  love  of  their  redeeming  God ; 
from  hunger,  and  weariness,  and  pain  to  that  glorious 
land  of  which  it  is  written,  "  there  shall  be  no  more 
death,  neither  sorrow,  nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be 
any  more  pain ;  for  the  former  things  are  passed  away." 
Several  children  have  died  during  the  past  year.  In 
each  instance  the  little  books  given  in  the  Sunday 
school  had  been  treasured  and  enjoyed.  During  their 
illness  the  hymns  they  had  learned  were  constantly  re- 
peated and  sung,  and  one  little  spirit  passed  away  in  the 
very  utterance  of  those  cheering  words,  "  There  is  a 
happy  land." 

This  hymn  takes  special  hold  on  every  young  heart 
far  more  than  any  other  we  have  ever  tried  to  teach. 
Why  ?  Is  it  the  utter  absence  of  evei^thing  that  makes 
childhood  happy  in  the  present,  that  leads  them  thus 

early  to  anticipate  that  future  ?  or  does  God  open  to 
those  destined  early  to  pass  from  these  miserable  scenes 

of  earth,  a  vista  through  which  they  perceive,  with 

more  than  childish  vision,  the  beauty  of  that  happier 


158  THE    DYIKG     GIRL. 

laud  to  wliicli  they  are  hastening  ?  We  know  not ; 
but  the  fact  is  evident,  that  the  hymn  has  a  powerful 
and  peculiar  charm. 

On  the  first  Sabbath  the  school  opened,  a  timid- 
looking  girl,  about  12  years  of  age  hovered  around  the 
door.  She  resisted  every  effort  to  induce  her  to  enter, 
generally  fleeing  as  soon  as  she  was  spoken  to,  to  her 
home  in  the  Old  Brewery,  where  she  lived  with  a 
wretched,  drunken  mother.  At  times  the  teachers  pur- 
sued her  with  words  of  kindness,  but  in  vain.  After 
some  time,  of  her  own  accord,  she  entered,  and  imme- 
diately became  an  attentive  and  interested  scholar. 
Months  rolled  away  and  her  improvement  became  evi- 
dent, but  being  retiring  and  reserved  we  could  learn 
but  little  of  her  feelings. 

Last  winter  it  was  announced  that  Mary  was  ill,  and 
she  was  visited  in  her  wretched  home.  "We  found  her  in 
bed  in  a  corner  of  a  large  room,  where  at  least  twenty 
persons  were  accommodated  at  night,  and  where  cook- 
ing and  eating  was  done  for  and  by  all.  She  did  not 
seem  sick  but  she  would  not  rise,  nor  eat,  nor  scarcely 
speak.  It  was  ascertained  that  grief  for  her  wretch- 
ed mother  and  her  own  forlorn  condition  were  pressing 
her  to  the  grave,  yet  she  resisted  all  wishes  to  remove 
her  to  the  hospital,  and  thus  separate  her  from  her 


THE     DYING     GIRL.  159 

mother.  She  was  supplied  with  needful  things,  was 
comforted  and  encouraged,  and  for  a  little  time  seemed 
to  rally,  and  crept,  pale  and  sad  looking  into  the 
Mission  room. 

Soon  however,  its  became  apparent  that  she  was 
failing  fast.  She  had  been  removed  to  a  comfortable 
room,  and  was  continually  visited  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Luckey,  and  other  friends  of  the  ^Mission. 

A  friend  who  visited  her  one  day,  after  conversing 
on  spiritual  things,  asked,  "  Is  there  anything  you 
would  like  to  have,  Mary  ?"  She  shook  her  head, 
and  said  "  Nay."  "  Can't  you  think  of  anything ;  I 
will  get  you  whatever  you  wish,"  (thinking,  perhaps 
her  sickly  appetite  might  be  craving  some  of  the 
luxuries  of  life.)  Again  a  languid  negative  was  given. 
Her  kind  friend  still  lingered,  and  suddenly  the  color 
mounted  to  the  pale  face,  a  look  full  of  animation 
succeeded  the  languid  glance,  the  thin  lip  quivered, 
and  she  exclaimed,  "  0,  yes,  I  want  one  thing," 
and  raising  herself  in  the  bed,  reiterated,  "I  want 
one  thing."  "What  is  that,  Mary,  I  promise  you, 
you  shall  have  it?"  A  moment's  pause,  and  the 
answer  came,  "  I  want  you  to  bring  some  of  the 
Sunday  school  children  here,  and  let  them  sing  for  me. 
O,  wiU  you  ?" 


160  THE    DYING     GIRL. 

The  Sunday,  after  the  request  was  granted;  and 
the  exquisite  enjoyment  written  on  that  pale  suffer- 
ing face,  the  tearful  eye,  and  the  unspoken  gratitude, 
formed  a  scene  for  a  painter  to  witness  and  pourtray. 
"There  is  a  happy  land,"  was  the  favorite  hymn, 
and  many  times  since  then  has  the  only  wish  she 
has  expressed  been  thus  gratified.  She  is  slowly  fading 
away ;  she  converses  but  little,  but  when  we  speak  of 
the  Saviour  her  color  rises  and  her  eyes  fill  with  tears. 
She  says  she  is  trusting  in  Christ,  and  those  who  know 
her  best  have  full  confidence  that  our  God  is  thus 
gently  preparing  her  to  enter  the  "  happy  land." 

In  her  home  of  poverty,  amid  her  many  privations, 
sinking  in  langour  and  pain,  she  utters  no  complaint, 
nor  breathes  one  earthly  wish.  Thank  God  for  the 
wondrous  power  of  his  redeeming  grace  to  strengthen 
and  to  satisfy ! 


CHAPTER  XL 


THE    CHILDREN-. 

"  '  Who  bids  for  the  little  children 

Body  and  soul  and  brain  ; 
"Who  bids  for  the  little  children — 

Young  and  without  stain'  ? 
'  I  bid,'  said  Beggary,  howling, 

'I'll  buy  them  one  and  all, 
I'll  teach  them  a  thousand  lessons — 

To  lie,  to  skulk,  to  crawl.' 

"  '  And  I'll  bid  higher  and  higher,' 

Said  Crime,  with  wolfish  grin, 
•  For  I  love  to  lead  the  children 

Through  the  pleasant  paths  of  sin. 
They  shall  swarm  in  the  streets  to  pilfer, 

They  shall  plague  the  broad  highway, 
Till  they  grow  too  old  for  pity,         ♦ 

And  ripe  for  the  law  to  slay.' 

• '  Oh  shame !'  said  true  Eellgion, 

'  Oh,  shame  that  this  should  be 
I'll  take  the  little  children — 

I'll  tal^e  them  all  to  me 
I'll  raise  them  up  with  kindness 

From  the  mire  in  which  they've  trod, 
I'll  teach  them  words  of  blessing, 

I'll  lead  them  up  to  God.'  " 


162  WILD    MAGGIB. 


ETili  3Siiggif. 


Poor  Wild  Maggie  Carson  !  Plain  features,  disfigured 
by  the  small-pox — a  sullen  disagreeable  expression,  a 
gruff  voice,  a  convulsive  habit  of  rubbing  her  eyes 
with  her  clenched  hands — matted  tangled  hair,  and  a 
filthy  ragged  dress.  Such  vsras  the  forbidding  aspect 
of  the  little  outcast,  who  seemed  to  scorn  the  efforts 
made  to  win  her.  No  clear  untroubled  glance  ever 
met  the  eye  of  those  who  accosted  her,  and  no  response 
was  ever  made  to  words  of  counsel  and  kindness.  Impa- 
tient of  restraint,  she  could  not  be  induced  to  remain  in 
school  more  than  ten  minutes  at  a  time.  When  ad- 
dressed she  would  maintain  a  sullen  silence,  or  start 
and  scream,  or  ^ugh  with  scornful  fearful  merriment. 
Poor  Maggie  had  known  only  the  roughest  ways  ;  and 
her  seamed  face  was  but  a  symbol  of  the  marred 
Bcarred  nature — the  down-trodden  heart  and  soul. 
Air  and  sunshine,  and  careful  culture  was  needed  for 
life  and  growth. 

No  mother  had  cared  for  her  childhood.  Her 
mother  was  a  confirmed  drunkard  who  sent  her  child 
forth  to  beg  the  alms  which  were  their  only  support, 
and   when   Maggie   was    comfortably   clothed   at   the 


WILD    MAGGIE.  163 

Mission,  the  wretched  woman  pawned  the  clothes  for 
rum.  '  • 

Mrs.  Howe,  who  taught  in  the  Mission  Sunday 
school,  often  loolred  with  tearful  solicitude  upon  the 
poor  wild  girl,  and  wondered  if  that  sullen  nature,  so 
closed  against  kindlj  influences,  could  ever  be  sub- 
dued and  rightly  cultiyated.  Being  asked  by  a  lady 
to  procure  an  orphan  child  from  the  Five  Points, 
to  live  in  her  family,  she  went  there  in  quest  of 
such  an  one,  and  visited  a  number  of  families  of 
whom  she  made  inquiries.  Her  search  was  on  this 
occasion  unsuccessful.  Returning  home  through 
Anthony  street,  she  was  startled  by  Wild  Maggie 
who  running  eagerly  toward  her  with  outstretch- 
ed arms,  cried  out  with  almost  despairing  earnestness. 
"Do  Mrs.  Howe  take  me,  oh  take  me,  I  am  very  bad, 
but  I  will  try  to  be  good,  do,  do  take  me."  Why 
Maggie,  where  is  your  mother  ? 

"  On  Blackwell's  Island,  and  the  woman  I  live  with 
makes  me  bes:  all  the  victuals,  and  does  not  ^ive  me 
enough  to  eat.  I  sleep  on  the  bare  boards  in  the 
corner  of  her  dirty  garret.  Won't  you  take  me,  I  will 
try  to  be  good  ?" 

Mrs.  Howe  was  touched,  not  only  with  the  tale  of  wo, 
but  with  the  sudden  transition  in  the  child's  nature — 


164  WILDMAGOIB, 

the  dogged  silence,  the  defiant  spirit  had  gnven  place  to 
life  and  earnestness.  There  were  germ  of  good 
beneath  that  rough  exterior.  What  was  to  be  done  ? 
She  could  not  be  recommended  to  the  ladv  who  had 
asked  for  the  orphan  child,  and  placing  her  under  the 
care  of  the  Missionary  for  the  night,  Mrs.  H.  went 
home  to  work  out  the  problem.  "  We  will  take  her," 
was  her  husband's  prompt  reply,  when  told  of  Maggie's 
thrilling  appeal.  Mrs.  H.  spoke  of  her  wickedness,  her 
unsightly  face,  and  uncouth  ways.  "  Never  mind,"  said 
Mr.  Howe,  "  the  more  reason  why  some  one  should 
care  for  her — I  would  rather  take  one  of  the  worst, 
the  triumph  will  be  greater  if  we  succeed." 

The  effort  was  made — the  child  was  taken  by  this 
kind  family  ;  she  was  well  washed  and  dressed,  and  she 
soon  gave  evidence  of  a  desire  to  please.  Most 
unwillingly  did  she  return  to  her  former  modes  of  life, 
about  a  fortnight  after,  when  her  mother,  released 
from  imprisonment,  came  at  once  and  demanded  her. 
Her  clothing  soon  went  to  the  pawn-broker's  as  before, 
but  in  a  short  time,  the  vagrant  mother  was  again 
committed  to  prison  for  six  months.  Maggie's  friends 
however  had  not  lost  sight  of  her",  and  before  the 
proper  authorities  at  the  City  Hall,  Mr.  Howe 
adopted  her. 


WILD    MAGGIE.  165 

Poor  wild  Maggie  had  many  things  to  learn  and 
more  to  unlearn.  Chary  of  her  words,  rude  and  rough  in 
her  ways,  with  nothing  to  attract  in  face  or  voice  or 
manner — untaught  and  untrained — nurtured  in  sin — 
it  was  a  great  thought  to  see  the  possibility  of  evoking 
good  out  of  this  mass  of  evil,  and  a  great  resolve 
seriously  to  undertake  the  task.  There  was  the  charity 
that  hopeth  all  things,  and  believeth  all  things,  and 
that  hope  and  faith  were  not  in  vain.  The  daily 
teachings  of  a  Christian  family — example,  kindness, 
effort  and  counsel  were  not  lost  upon  her,  and  the 
gradual  development  of  mind  and  character  was  most 
gratifying  to  those  who  were  training  this  wild  vine. 
Though  eleven  years  of  age,  it  wa?  nearly  a  year  before 
she  could  learn  the  alphabet,  but  when  that  was 
mastered,  her  progress  was  rapid.  She  soon  learned  to 
read  very  well  and  became  so  fond  of  reading  that  she 
hastens  through  her  daily  duties  to  gain  time  for  her 
books.  As  there  are  no  public  schools  in  the  rural 
neio-hborhood  where  Mr.  Howe  now  resides,  he  has  paid 
forty  dollars  for  her  schooling  during  the  past  year, 
and  he  feels  himself  amply  repaid  by  her  manifest  im- 
provement. She  sews  well  and  is  most  useful  in  the 
household,  the  members  of  which  would  not  be 
willing  to  part  with  Maggie  Carson  on  any  terms.  She  is 


166  WILD     MAGGIE. 

always  the  first  to  enter  -  the  room  for  morning  and 
evening  prayers,  and  one  would  find  it  difficult  to 
recognize  in  the  tidy,  respectable  looking  girl  who  with 
her  Bible  and  hymn-book  takes  part  in  those  hallowed 
services — Wild  Maggie  of  the  Five  Points. 

When  taken  by  Mrs.  Howe  to  the  first  Thanksgiving 
supper  given  to  the  children  of  the  Five  Points,  Maggie 
declined  partaking  of  the  feast,  and  she  never  speaks 
of  her  former  abode.  She  has  turned  over  a  new 
bright  page  in  life,  and  she  cares  not  to  look  upon 
the  previous  tracery  of  sin  and  sorrow.  A  similar 
feeling  is  generally  manifested  by  the  children  for 
whom  good  places  have  been  obtained.  With  no 
attachment  to  their  former  haunts  and  pursuits  they 
do  not  like  even  to  hear  the  Five  Points  alluded  to. 

A  residence  of  six  months  on  Blackwell's  Island 
was  of  use  to  Maggie's  mother.  Having  been  for 
that  length  of  time  without  liquor  she  was  pre- 
pared to  take  the  temperance  pledge  when  presented 
to  her  by  the  friends  of  her  child.  Maggie 
too,  in  her  own  gruff  way,  urged  her  to  take 
it,  and  for  nearly  three  years  she  has  never  broken  it. 
She  came  to  claim  her  child,  but  on  hearing  that 
Maggie  had  been  adopted  by  her  kind  benefactor,  she 
expressed    great    satisfaction    with    the    arrangement 


THE    CHILDREN    THAT   SWEEP    THE    CROSSIKaS        167 

She  procured  a  good  situation  as  cook  and  lias  retained 
it  ever  since.  A  short  time  since,  she  brought  Maggie 
a  dress,  which  she  begged  Mrs.  Howe  would  allow  her 
to  accept,  saying  that  she  knew  Maggie  did  not  need 
dresses,  but  that  she  had  six  dollars  a  month,  which  was 
more  than  she  wanted  for  herself,  and  she  had  no  one 
else  to  provide  for.  What  a  contrast  with  the  old  time, 
when  she  stripped  her  wretched  child  of  her  comforta- 
ble raiment  that  she  might  obtain  the  maddening 
stupefying  draught !  "  Clothed"  and  in  her  "right  mind," 
she  now  utters  her  thanks  to  that  kind  Providence 
which  through  the  instrumentality  of  that  Mission,  has 
rescu^  mother  and  child  from  the  sin  and  misery  in 
which  they  had  well-nigh  been  lost. 


Children  with  short  ragged  garments — old  shawls 
tied  round  their  waists — bare  feet  bespattered  with  the 
mud  with  which  they  are  waging  warfare — tangled 
locks  straying  from  beneath  their  dark  hoods — faces 
prematurely  old  and  care-worn !  Can  we  look  for  good 
in     such     as    these  ?      Do  they    remember    kindnea- 


k 


168      THE    CHILDREN   THAT   SWEEP   THE    CROSSINGS. 

Bes,  or  liave  ih-ej  any  to  remember  ?  Do  these  forlorn 
ones  take  note  of  auglit  but  the  pennies  that  fall  upon 
tbeir  path,  as  they  ply  their  brooms  amid  the  rush  of 
omnibusses  and  rail-cars,  of  carts  and  carriages,  while 
the  stream  of  hurrying  action  rolls  on  its  resistless  tide  ? 
Can  they  discern  among  that  restless  multitude  a  face 
associated  with  memories  of  kindness — one  face  that 
will  give  the  little  street-sweepers  a  smile  of  recogni- 
tion ?  Many  of  them  have  been  gathered  in  at  the 
Mission  school;  and  though,  at  times,  they  resume 
their  old  occupation,  and  with  it  their  street-sweeper's 
garb ;  yet  on  other  days  they  may  be  seen  tidily  dress- 
ed, and  with  clean  faces,  learning  to  read  ,and  to 
write,  to  cypher  and  to  sew  in  the  pleasant  school-room 
at  the  Mission  House.  That  love's  labor  is  not  lost 
there,  the  following  incidents  will  show  : 

One  day  a  minister  of  one  of  the  city  churches,  who 
had  the  Sunday  before  preached  in  the  big  tent  in  "  Par- 
adise Square"  at  the  Five  Points,  was  crossing  the  well- 
swept  walk,  which  enabled  one  to  walk  dry-shod  over 
Broadway.  He  handed  some  pennies  to  one  of  the 
children,  who  promptly  declined  the  gift,  saying — 
"  Oh,  no  sir ;  we  heard  you  preach  in  the  Big  Tent  on 
Sunday,  and  we  don't  want  to  take  any  pennies  from 
you."     He  had  given  them  something  better  than  pen- 


THE    CUII.DREN    THAT    SWEEP    THE    CROSSINGS.       169 

nies,  and  tliey  were  glad  to  make  a  clean  path  for  the 
feet  of  him  who  had  "  published  peace"  to  them  and 
theirs. 

As  a  lady  who  constantly  visits  the   Mission   school 
drew  near  the  crossing,  the  little  girl  exclaimed,  "  Here 

comes  Mrs.  D ,  sweep  the  walk  clean  for  her."  And 

when  she  handed  one  child  a  three  cent  piece,  her 
con^panion  put  back  the  little  outstretched  palm,  saying, 
"  Ain't  you  ashamed  to  take  money  from  our  teacher  ? 
No,  Ma'am,  we  don't  want  you  to  pay  us."  And  the 
little  silver  bit  was  resolutely  declined,  till  the  lady 
dropt  it  on  the  pavement  and  walked  on. 

Here  was  a  lively  feeling  of  gratitude  shining 
forth  in  these  children  that  sweep  the  crossings- 
children  already  old  in  the  bitter  experience  of  life, 
trained  up  amid  evil  and  wrong — proving  that  some  of 
the  seed  freely  scattered,  had  taken  root  in  the  poor 

neglected  soil  of  their  young  hearts. 

8 


170  LITTLE     ELLIE. 


"  Will  you  please  come  and  see  a  poor  woman  wlio  is 

almost  frozen  to  death  ?"  said  little  Ellie  H one 

cold  Sunday  morning  to  one  of  the  ladies,  as  she  en- 
tered the  school-room  door.  The  little  thing  had  been 
awaiting  her  arrival,  and  with  ready  steps,  she  guided 
her  companion  to  the  fireless,  desolate  room.  Cold — 
cold — no  warmth — no  ray  of  cheerfulness, — there  she 
lay — the  poor  forlorn  one — with  scarce  any  covering 
for  her  benumbed  limbs.  But  little  Ellie  had  been 
there,  stujBfing  rags  in  the  windoAvs  to  keep  out  the 
biting  blast — and  she  had  brought  part  of  her  scanty 
breakfast  to  give  to  one  who  was  poorer  than  she. 
And  now  her  active  benevolence  had  brought  a  helper, 
who  could  provide  the  comforts  which  Ellie  had  not 
to  give.  "  She  is  all  alone.  Who  will  take  care  of 
her  ?"  said  the  lady.  "  Oh,  I  will,"  said  the  child  with 
an  important  air — not  doubting  her  own  fitness  for  the 
task. 

Ellie  looked  downcast  some  days  after,  when  the 
same  kind  lady  came  to  visit  her.  It  was  not  because 
her  home  was  poor  and  scantily  furnished — but  her 
father  and  mother  had  been  quarrelling,  and  her  father 


SHADOAVS.  171 

had  struck  her  mother.  "  Oh,  Mr.  H. !"  said  the  hidy, 
"  a  man  should  never  strike  a  woman."  "  It  is  because 
she  was  drinking,  Ma'am,"  he  repHed,  "  I  never  would 
strike  her  if  she  were  sober."  Poor  Ellie !  she  hung 
down  her  head  as  she  accompanied  her  kind  friend 
down  the  stairs  and  into  the  street.  "  Indeed,  Ma'am," 
said  she  earnestly,  in  her  child-like  fashion,  "  my  father 
would  never  beat  my  mother  if  she  were  sober ;  but  if 
one  of  them  nails  in  the  floor  were  to  drink  rum,  my 
father  would  murther  it." 

Little  Ellie — true  sympathy  for  suffering  gleam- 
ed out  in  thy  care  for  the  forsaken  one,  and  a  child's 
feeling  of  sorrow  and  mortification  for  the  transgres- 
sion of  those  who  should  have  taught  thee  the  right. 
Such  gifts  as  thine  are  not  unmarked  in  His  sight, 
who  remembers  even  the  cup  of  cold  water  given 
in  His  nanje. 


I  jjninitrs. 

One  morning  Mrs. was  asked  by  a  little  girl  of 

the  Mission  school,  who  had  learned  the  lesson  of 
mercy,  to  come  and  see  a  very  sick  woman.  She  fol- 
lowed her  into   a  house   in  Anthony  street,  passed  by 


172  SHADOWS. 

two  rooms,  in  one  of  which  was  gathered  a  company 
of  young  ]ads  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  who  wero 
drinking  and  smoking,  and  entered  a  third  room  which 
seemed  built  out  into  the  ground.  It  was  so  dark  that 
for  a  few  moments  the  lady  could  discern  nothing.  As 
her  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  she  saw 
a  poor  woman  on  a  wretched  pallet  in  the  corner — her 
wan  face  not  as  white,  but  as  black  as  the  bed  clothes. 
Dyino-  with  consumption — no  hand  to  smooth  the 
tangled  hair  or  wipe  the  death-damps  from  her  brow  ! 
The  lady  told  the  little  girl  to  bring  some  water  and 
wash  the  poor  soiled  face,  and  part  the  matted  hair. 

It  had  not  always  been  thus  with  her.  S^e  had 
known  the  peace  and  plenty  of  a  comfortable  home — 
the  daughter  of  a  Christian  minister,  she  married 
against  the  will  of  her  parents — became  estranged 
from  all  the  charities  of  the  home  of  her  childhood, 
and  sank  lower  and  lower  till  she  lay  here  in  her  mise- 
ry. "  Pride  and  poverty  have  brought  me  to  this," 
she  said,  "  for  I  would  never  make  known  my  wants — 
but  indeed,  I  am  a  virtuous  woman."  Intemperance, 
thought  the  lady,  as  she  went  to  the  Mission  wardrobe 
for  clean  clothes  and  bedding,  has  probably  wi'ought 
this  ruin.  Poor  creature  ;  the  life-gates  were  well-nigh 
closed  behind  thee — but  little  could  be   done  for  thee 


GLEAMS     OF     LIGHT.  173 

now !  The  radiant  vision  of  thy  childhood  could  not 
dissipate  the  gloom  of  that  darkened  chamber  ;  and 
those  heavenly  hopes  which  could  give  light  even  here, 
where  were  they  ? 


"  Gather  them  in — slather  them  in,"  from  the  "  stiflinor 
street,"  and  the  dusky  lane — gather  them  in — these 
little  ones  to  whom  the  sunny  gladness  of  childhood  is 

denied who  are   familiar  with    cold    and   hunger — 

with  want  and  wo  and  vice — who  know  nothing  of 
cleanliness  and  comfort,  of  the  sanctity  of  home,  and 
prayer,  and  the  Sabbath  day — who  see  nothing  but  the 
night-side  of  life.  Gather  them  in,  that  they  may  be 
washed  and  clothed  and  have  glimpses  of  better  things. 
Here  is  material  that  may  be  fashioned  into  forms  of 
beauty — it  is  still  plastic — it  has  not  become  hardened 
by  exposure,  and  it  now  invites  the  moulding  hand. 
Despise  not  these  little  ones,  for  they  are  destined  to 
live  for  ever.  Be  hopeful  and  believing  and  cast  thy 
bread  freely  on  the  waters,  and  thou  wilt  find  it  again 
after  many  days.     There  are  pledges  and  promises  of 


174  GLEAMS     OF     LIGHT. 

good  to  cheer  thee  even  now.  There  are  innocent 
faces,  manifestations  of  dehcate  feehngs,  fine  traits  of 
character,  and  high  aspirations  even  here — witness  tho 
following. 

A  little  girl  in  the  infant  class  heard  a  lady  who 
constantly  visited  the  school  speak  of  her  love  for 
flowers.  The  remark  was  not  forgotten, and  every  day 
she  begged  her  father  to  bring  her  some  flowers  to 
give  to  her  kind  friend.  At  length  he  complied 
with  her  wish,  and  the  little  thing  neatly  dressed,  with 
a  beaming  face,  and  the  pretty  bunch  of  flowers  in  her 
hand, waited  at  the  door  of  the  Mission  room.  When 
the  lady  came,  the  timid  child,  afraid  to  present  her 
offering,  gave  it  to  a  larger  girl  to  put  into  the  hand  of 
the  lady,  who  could  not  repress  her  tears  at  this  touch- 
ing tribute  of  affection.  Flowers  always  beautiful — 
always  welcome — any  where — every  where — had  indeed 
A  language  as  they  trembled  in  the  hand  of  the  grateful, 
expectant  child  ! 

One  little  fellow  with  a  good  honest  face  and  amiable 
expression — little  Jemmy  Hyde — for  although  fourteen 
years  old,  he  is  small  for  his  age — by  his  orderlj' 
conduct  and  his  diligence  in  study  merited  the  ap- 
probation of  his  teachers.  On  Thanksgiving  day  a 
silver  pencil  was  given  to  him  as  the  best  boy  in  the 


GLEAMS     OF     LIGHT.  l75 

school.  And  Jemmy  bad  an  opportunity  of  proving 
the  strength  of  his  principles.  One  day  as  he  ^Yas 
walking  in  Broadway,  he  picked  up  a  handsome  gold 
watch.  Jemmy  had  never  had  anything  so  beautiful 
in  his  hands  before — there  was  a  rich  gold  chain 
fashioned  like  a  serpent,  and  a  gold  locket  containing 
two  pictures,  and  two  rings,  and  a  little  gold  purse,  and 
other  charms  the  like  of  which  he  had  never  seen. 
He  took  these  beautiful  things  home  to  his  mother, 
and  she  put  them  in  her  trunk.  Jemmy  wanted  to 
advertise  them,  but  she  said  she  had  no  money  to  pay 
for  the  advertisement,  and  she  kept  them,  looking  daily 
for  an  advertisement  and  reward.  None  met  her  eye, 
and  as  several  weeks  passed,  she  was  afraid  to  let  it  be 
known  that  she  had  the  watch  in  her  possession.  But 
Jemmy's  conscience  was  troubled — he  could  not  rest — 
he  knew  that  he  ought  not  to  keep  what  did  not  belong 
to  him — and  he  came  and  told  the  Missionary  all  about 
it,  and  his  face  looked  brighter,  and  his  heart  felt  lighter 
for  the  telling. 

The  watch  was  advertised, and  the  same  day  a  gentle- 
man brought  a  letter  in  which  every  article  was  de- 
scribed. The  watch  belono-ed  to  a  ladv  residino-  in 
Boston,  a  niece  of  the  Hon.  Ptufus  Choate,  and  it  was 
the  last  gift  of  her  father,  so  that  she  had  mourned  over 


176  GLEAM  SOFLIGHT. 

the  loss  of  this  precious  memorial  of  his  afi'ection.  SKu 
kindly  sent  fifty  dollars  for  the  boy,  with  the  assurance 
that  she  should  ever  feel  a  lively  interest  in  the  welfare 
of  her  little  unknown  friend,  and  in  the  Mission  school 
where  such  good  principles  were  instilled.  The  money 
has  been  placed  in  the  Savings  Bank  till  Jemmy's 
eighteenth  year,  when  it  will  be  a  nice  capital  for  him 
to  begin  the  world  with.  But  this  is  not  all.  James 
said  that  he  wanted  to  get  away  from  the  evil  influences 
of  the  Five  Points,  and  the  Missionary  was  about  to 
procure  him  a  place  in  the  country  where  he  could 
learn  a  trade.  But  a  lawyer,  in  whose  office  Jemmy 
has  been  employed  a  short  time,  pleased  with  the  in- 
telligence and  integrity  of  the  boy,  has  offered  to  give 
him  a  home,  to  clothe  and  educate  him.  Thankful  and 
happy  for  the  fair  prospects  opening  before  her  son,  the 
mother  exclaimed,  that  always  from  the  time  he  was  a 
very  little  boy.  Jemmy  had  said,  "  I  will  be  a  jintle- 
man  yet."     Nous  verrons. 

"  Por  character  groweth,  day  by  day,  and  all  things  aid  it  in  unfoldings. 
And  the  bent  unto  good  or  evil  may  be  given  in  the  hours  of  infancy," 


CHAPTER    XII. 

THE     ASTOR     HOUSE     BEGGAR. 

Very  small  of  her  age  is  Mary  R.  She  would  be 
thought  a  child  of  five  rather  than  ten — so  stunted 
has  been  her  growth  by  over-mnch  work  and  care  not 
suited  to  her  tender  years.  In  vain  we  tried  to  induce 
the  little  beggar  girl  to  attend  school,  and  one  day  I  took 
her  aside  and  said,  "  Mary,  why  do  you  not  love  to  come 
to  our  school?"  " Because," was  her  quick  reply,  "I 
was  told  that  you  were  all  bad  people,  and  that  you 
}jept  a  Protestant  school,  and  that  was  not  a  good 
place."  We  at  last  succeeded  in  winning  her,  by 
telling  her  to  come  in  and  warm  herself  by  the  stove 
in  the  Mission-room.  We  took  off  her  filthy  garments 
and  clothed  her  from  head  to  foot  in  a  new  warm  suit, 
and  the  little  pock-marked  face  with  the  gleaming 
black  eyes,  looked  very  pleasantly  upon  us,  as  we  told 
her  that  we  loved  her.  The  idea  of  being  loved, 
wakened  a  new  chord  in  the  heart  of  this  little  girl, 
who  looked  upon  us  as  her  friends,  and  gradually  stayed 
longer  and  longer  in  school. 


178  THE     AST  OR     HOUSE     BEGGAR. 

Why  do  you  wear  such  dirty  clothes,  Mary  ?  I  said 
to  her  one  day.  "  Because  my  mother  won't  wash 
them.  Come  and  see  where  I  Hve,  and  you  will  not  asl? 
me  why  ray  clothes  are  dirty."  She  led  the  way  to  the 
last  house  in  Cow  Bay,  through  a  dark,  dark  passage 
and  stairway  to  the  attic — the  floor  in  some  places  so 
broken  that  T  feared  I  might  fall  through.  We  met 
several  men  on  the  stairs,  but  Mary  heralded  our  ascent 
by  "Make  room, my  teacher  is  coming  with  me,"  and 
in  each  instance  they  fell  back  to  give  us  room  to  pass. 
We  reached  the  attic.  On  a  heap  of  dirty  rags  in  one 
corner  lay  her  drunken  mother — her  father  half  intoxi- 
cated sat  Up  on  a  chest,  for  there  was  no  chair,  and 
another  drunken  wom.an  sat  shivering,  over  a  few 
embers.  The  man  immediately  recognized  me,  saying, 
"I  remember  you, Lady,  ten  years  ago,  when  you  called 
in  City  Hall  place  to  see  me,  when  I  was  sick.  I  was 
better  off  then,  but  now  I  am  as  bad  off  as  I  can  be." 
Will  you  not  let  us  provide  a  comfortable  home  for 
Mary?  "Oh,  no,  ma'am,  we  cannot  spare  her,  for  she 
supports  the  family.  My  poor  wife,  as  you  see,  can  do 
nothing."  "  Wliy,  you  support  the  family,  Mary,  how 
can  you  do  that?"     "By  begging, ma'am." 

How  fearfully  Intemperance  reverses  all  the  relations 
of   life !       An    entire    family    depending   on    this   tiny 


THE  HOME  OF  THE  ASTOR  HOU^  BEGGAR. 


THE     AS  TOR     HOUSE     BEGGAR.  179 

creature  for  their  daily  bread — the  strong  arm  idle — - 
the  stalwart  frame  paralyzed,  the  old  heads  stupified  with 
strong  drink,  while  upon  these  young  shoulders  rested 
the  heavy  burden. 

*'  But  why  will  you  not  sign  the  pledge,  and  become 
sober,  and  thus  become  more  comfortable  ?     We  would 
then  have  an  oversight  of  you,  and  you  would  be  more 
able  to  support  yourself.     Do  you  not  know  that  your 
poor  child  is  most  fearfully  exposed  to   all   that  is  evil 
by  her  course  of  life  ?"     "  Oh  yes,  ma'am,  but  she  only 
goes  to  the  Astor  House."  "  YeSjma'am,"  responded  little 
pock-marked  Mary,    "  I   am   a  great  pet  there ;  they 
always  save  me  the  best  pieces  of  chicken  and  turkey,  and 
sometimes  they  give  me  money.     I  have  been  up  stairs 
too,  and  a  lady   gave   me   a  silk  frock,    in  one  of  the 
pretty  rooms  she  lived  in."     As  I   went  down    stairs 
with  the  child,  I  said,  "Mary,  why  do  you  not  wear 
your  silk  frock  on  Sunday  ?"     "  Because  I  have  no  bon- 
net would  look  good  with  it,"  was  the  shrewd  reply. 
"  Come  with  me  and  T  will  give  you  a  bonnet  and  a  sack, 
and   to-morrow   come    to    Sunday    school   all   dressed 
neatly."    She  came  as  we  desired,  behaved  well,  and  from 
that  time  she  has  been  an  attendant  on  our  day  and 
Sabbath  school. 

One  day,  as  I  passed  the  Astor  House,  the  steps  of 


loU  THE     A  ST  OK     HOUSE     BEGGAR. 

which  were  crowded  with  gentlemen,  the  little  beggar 
girl  putting  down  her  hasket,  rushed  towards  me  with 
outstretched  arms,  and  witli  :i  look  of  dehghted  recog- 
nition. I  own  to  some  degree  of  embarrassment  at  her 
childish  caress,  and  merely  saying,  "  Have  you  been  to 
the  Mission  School  to-day,  Mary  ?"  and  hearing  her 
answer,  "  No,  ma'am,  but  I  am  going  in  a  little  while,'* 
I  passed  on,  leaving  Mary  to  answer  the  questions  of  the 
spectators  of  this  ludicrous  scene. 

One  day,  a  visitor  at  the  school  gave  her  two  pennies. 
in  a  few  moments  she  was  missing,  but  she  soon 
returned  with  a  larg*e  apple,  which  she  offered  to  me. 
I  said,  "  Mary,  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  offer,  but  I 
prefer  not  to  eat  the  apple."  She  moved  to  the  windo^y 
of  the  school-room  and  wept.  One  of  the  children 
whispered  to  me,  "  Mary  is  crying  because  you  did  not 
take  her  apple."  I  called  her  to  me  and  said,  "Mary, 
do  you  want  me  to  take  your  apple  ?"  "  Yes,  ma'am,  I 
bought  it  for  you — it  is  clean,  ma'am."  I  took  the  apple 
and  told  her  it  was  so  large,  I  could  not  eat  it  all,  but 
as  it  was  now  mine,  I  had  a  favor  to  ask  of  her,  and 
that  was  that  she  should  share  it  v/iih  me.  This  was 
done  to  the  satisfaction  of  both  the  giver  and  receiver 
of  the  little  gift.  Little  pock-marked  black-eyed  Mary, 
\eft  to  herself,  and  obliged  to  care  for  herself,  and  for 


THE     AS  TOR     HOUSE     BEGGAR.  181 

.hose  who  should  have  cared  for  her,  proved  that  she 
had  an  aflfectionate  heart,  and  a  generous  nature.  The 
two  pennies  were  all  she  had,  but  she  freely  gave  them 
to  purchase  a  gift  for  one  who  had  shown  her  kindness. 
Whenever  or  wherever  she  meets  a  teacher  or  frequent 
visitor  of  the  Mission-School,  she  thinks  she  can  claim 
acquaintanceship. 

She  is  a  smart  •  little  thing,  learns  rapidly,  and  she 
has  a  sweet  voice  in  singing.  She  has  recently  received 
two  premiums  for  being  one  of  the  best  children  in  the 
school.  Of  late  she  has  been  a  much  more  regular 
attendant  in  the  day-school.  On  inquiring  the  cause 
she  said,  '''•  Kase  I  gind  my  father  and  mother  wo  peace 
till  they  signed,  the  pledge,  and  now  she  washes  my 
clothes,  and  I  only  go  to  the  .Istor  House  at  three 
o'clock,  after  school  is  out."  Early  has  Mary  begun  to 
play  an  important  part  in  life,  her  parents  looking  to 
her  for  support,  and  she  their  adviser  and  counsellor. 
God  speed  thee,  little  Mary  ! 


182  MAGGIE     n  TAN 


A  few  weeks  after  the  opening  of  the  Mission,  the 
Ladies  visiting  the  School  and  Mission,  became 
deeply  interested  in  a  little  flaxen-haired  girl  of  about 
ten  years.  One  of  the  ladies  had  her  taken  to  her  own 
home  and  well  clothed,  and  she  appeared  the  next 
Sabbath  in  so  neat  a  trim  that  several  remarked  her 
changed  and  happy  appearance.  She  was  unlike  most 
of  the  children  in  that  neighborhood,  her  manners  being 
very  gentle  and  I  might  almost  say  lady-like,  though 
by  nature  very  sprightly,  yet  exceedingly  teachable  and 
docile.  One  Sabbath  morning  she  came  up  to  me 
saying,  "  Will  you  please,  ma'am,  to  come  and  see  my 
father,  who  is  very  sick  and  poor  ?"  Accompanied  by 
my  sister,  Mrs.  H.,  I  followed  the  child  home.  She 
led  us  up  Cross  street,  two  doors  above  Orange. 
Passing  through  a  filthy  entry  to  the  yard,  she 
took  us  down  a  steep  flight  of  steps  to  a  back 
basement  room  or  cellar,  which  was  so  dark  that  it  was 
several  moments  before  our  eyes,  become  accustomed 
to  its  gloom,  could  perceive  it  was  most  scrupulously 
clean.  The  floor  had  been  well  scrubbed,  and  what 
little  furniture  there  was,  bore  the  mark  of  that   of  a 


MAGGIE     RYAN.  183 

tidy  housekeeper  ;  a  few  chaii's,  a  clean  pine  table,  and 
the  few  articles  of  the  cupboard,  with  a  bedstead,  com- 
pleted the  furniture  of  the  room.  "We  commended  the 
woman  for  her  neatness,  but  she  modestly  replied,  "  I 
ought  to  be  more  tidy,  but  I  cannot,  for  when  it  rains, 
the  water  runs  down  into  my  room  till  it  comes  up  so 
high,  faith  to  half  the  depth  of  the  bedstead,  and  my 
poor  husband  has  the  rheumatism,  and  we  have  not  had 
anything  to  eat  to-day."  I  approached  the  bed,  (the 
man  having  drawn  the  covering  over  his  face  when  he 
heard  strange  voices  in  the  room,)  and  said  in  a  kind 
tone,  "  Are  you  ill,  sir  ?  We  have  called  as  friends,  at 
request  of  your  little  daughter,  to  aid  you.  What  can 
we  do  for  you  ?"  The  man  seemed  subdued  by  the 
tone  of  kindness,  and  raising  himself,  with  some  diffi- 
culty, and  leaning  upon  his  elbow  he  said,  "  The  Ladies 
have  been  very  kind  in  doing  so  much  for  my  little 
girl.  The  Lord  reward  them  !  And  she  insisted  on 
bringing  you  here  ?"  "  How  can  we  aid  you,  sir  ?"  "  I 
want  but  little,"  replied  he,  "for  I  am  such  a  poor 
creature — a  poor  miserable  man ! "  "  Wliat  has  brought 
this  destitution  upon  you  ?"  asked  my  sister,  (for  it  was 
evident  they  had  seen  better  days.)  "  Intemperance^'' 
replied  the  man,  laying  the  strongest  stress  upon  the 
word.     "  It  has  nearly  ruined  me,  soul  and  body,  and 


184  MAGGIE     RYAN. 

my  Avife  also.  But  two  years  ago,  I  came  to  this  city 
with  two  thousand  dollars  in  my  pocket,  the  avails  of  a 
farm  I  had  sold,  but  I  fell  in  company  with  the  in- 
temperate, till  step  by  step  I  was  hurled  down  the 
declivity  of  ruin.  I  have  been  robbed  while  in  liquor  of 
all  my  money,  and  my  poor  wife  was  obliged  to  seek 
a  service-place,  but  she  too  had  learned  to  love  the 
intoxicating  cup,  and  while  at  service^  fell  from  a  second 
story  window,  while  washing  it,  into  the  area, and  had 
to  be  taken  to  the  Hospital  to  get  well ;  and  she  has 
very  dizzy  turns  now,  all^  all^  because  she  drank,  and  I 
helped  her  to  it.  Oh,  if  my  friends  knew  I  was 
brought  down  to  live  in  the  '  Five  Points,'  they  would  be 
wretched !"  We  encouraged  the  man ;  and  bade  him  hope 
that  better  days  were  in  store  for  him.  My  sister  took 
the  child  immediately  home,  relieved  their  wants  for  the 
day,  and  told  her  to  come  again  to  her  house  in  the  morn- 
ing. The  morning  brought  little  Maggie,  and  we  both 
became  more  and  more  interested  in  the  child.  We  visited 
the  family  often,  and  urged  both  husband  and  wife  to  sign 
the  temperance  pledge.  The  man  said  his  habits  were 
so  confirmed  that  he  could  not  keep  it  if  he  did  sign, 
but  the  woman  soon  complied  with  our  request, 
and  the  earnest  appeals  of  her  sweet  child  Maggie. 
The  parents  of  this  little  girl  were  very  fond  of  her,  and 


MAGGIE     R  V  A  X  , 


we  hoped  through  her  influence  to  effect  the  father's  res- 
toration to  sobriety.  The  wife,  too,  besought  him  to  take 
a  step  which  she  thought  might  introduce  him  to  a 
more  hopeful  life.  A  -watchful  oversight  was  kept  over 
them,  encouragement  given  to  the  mother,  and  every 
exertion  made  through  the  daughter  to  induce  him  to 
sign  the  pledge.  At  last  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  ab- 
stain from  drink  one  day.  The  temperance  meeting  was 
held  on  the  evening  of  that  day,  and  the  room  in  which 
it  was  held,  was  filled  with  many  who  shrank  from 
daylight  exposure.  The  Missionary  was  at  the  altar, 
an  appeal  was  made  for  the  intemperate  to  break  their 
fetters,  when  little  Maggie  came  running  up  to  me, 
saying,  "Father  is  at  the  door,  and  he  savs  he  will  sign." 
*'  Wont  you  come  and  coax  him  to  come  in  ?"  I  commu- 
nicated the  fact  to  the  Missionary  ;  a  bustle  at  the  door 
ensued.  Mrs.  Ryan  was  leading  her  husband,  and  urging 
her  way  through  the  crowd  that  thronged  the  passage, 
when  the  Missionary  exclaimed,  "Make  way  for  Mr.  Ryan. 
Come  along,Mr.  Ryan,and  sign  the  pledge,  and  may  God 
help  you  to  keep  it." — He  did  sign  it,  and  from  that  time 
beo-an  to  feel  that  he  was  a  man  asjain.  The  woman  also 
showed  the  greatest  signs  of  amendment.  Maggie  became 
a  decided  favorite  with  all  by  her  very  pleasing  manner — 
and  when  the  work-room  was  opened,  Maggie  was  the 


186  MAGGIE     RYAN. 

favored  one  who  took  the  work  back  and  forward  in 
the  room.  She  arranged  the  pieces  which  made  up  tlie 
garments  they  were  sewing,  and  was  loved  by  all 

But  Mrs.  H.  never  lost  sight  of  her  best  interests  for 
one  moment,  and  we  all  felt  that  they  were  a  family  that 
should  be  removed  away  from  that  locality,  where  the 
moral    atmosphere    by  which  they   were   surrounded 
was  not  the  best  for  them.      Temptations  stood  before 
them  in  too  formidable  a  phalanx  to  be  steadfastly  resist- 
ed. With  the  wish  to  aid  them  in  their  effort  to  retrieve 
their  character  and  fortunes,   a  gentleman  offered  them 
a  room  in  a  tenement  house  of  his.   A  carman  was  sent  for 
their  effects,  and  some  more  furniture  was  added  to  make 
their  new  apartment  in  Howard-street  home-like.    Mrs. 
H.  having  previously  taken  Maggie  to  her   house   to 
live,   she  remained     there   six  months,    attending   the 
public  school  in  Grand-street,    where  she  made  rapid 
improvement.     She  was  a  great  favorite   here,  also.    A 
little  incident  occurred  that  proved  this.    She  was  peel- 
ing peaches  one  day,  and  while-  putting  the  pits  in  her 
mouth  she  accidentally  got  one  in  her  throat.  The  house 
was  in  instant  alarm,  and  every  effort  used  to  extricate  it 
for   several   minutes,   but  in  vain.      Messengers   were 
despatched  for  the  physician,  with  but  little  hope,  for  she 
was  strangling.   Presently  she  grew  black,  she  stiffened. 


MAGGIE     RYAN.  18V 

The  whole  house  wept.  "  Maggie  is  dying — dear  Maggie 
is  dying — she  can't  breathe !"  Added  to  this,  Mrs.  H.  was 
from  home.  Despair  and  anguish  were  felt  by  every  heartj 
when  a  gentleman  happened  to  come  in  ;  and  in  that 
moment,  when  seemingly  past  hope,  he  succeeded  in  ex- 
tracting the  stone,  and  thus  saved  her  life.  It  was  some 
time  before  she  recovered,  as  he  drew  the  blood 
with  the  ftoue,  and  lacerated  her  throat  greatly  by  its 
removal.  We  felt  she  was  spared  for  some  good 
purpose. 

Mrs.  H.  had  previously  adopted  a  little  girl  called 
"  "Wild  Maggie  Carson,"  and  thoughtit  best  to  secure  a 
good  home  in  some  pious  family  in  the  country  for 
Maggie  Ryan,  and  at  her  request  the  Missionary  was 
desired  to  obtain  a  home  for  her.  He  succeeded,  and  the 
little  girl  was  well  supplied  with  good  clothing  and 
taken  to  the  Missionary's  house  to  wait  for  the  person, 
to  convey  her  to  her  new  home.  She  was  all  spirit  and 
life,  and  beguiled  the  hour  in  sing-ing  (for  she  has  a  pleas- 
ing voice),  and  she  had  learned  many  of  our  hymns  and 
childish  songs.  '•  What  do  you  like  to  sing  best  ?"  asked 
the  Missionary.     "  I  like  to  sing :" 

"  I  think  whea  I  read  that  sweet  Story  of  old, 

Whea  Jesus  was  here  amonsj  men, 
How  he  called  little  ehildrea  as  lambs  to  his  fold, 

I  should  like  to  have  been  -with  him  then." 


188  MAGGIE     RYAN. 

Which  she  did  sing  in  a  most  touching  manner, 
bringing  the  tear  to  the  eye  of  Mrs.  H.  who  took  leave 
of  her  charge  with  much  regret,  for  she  had  become 
greatly  attached  to  her. 

A  sad  misfortune  happened  to  the  poor  mother,  while 
hanging  up  some  clothes  from  the  second  story  of  her 
house.  The  dizziness  to  which  she  was  subject,  caused 
her  to  lose  her  balance  on  the  plank  upon  which  she 
was  standing,  and  she  was  precipitated  into  the  yard. 
Nothing  remained  but  the  hospital  for  the  poor  woman, 
and  she  was  sent  to  Bellevue,  with  the  fear  that  her 
ancle  was  broken  ;  but  it  proved  only  a  severe  con- 
tusion. Her  husband  being  left  thus  alone,  obtained 
through  a  relation,  a  situation  at  unloading  vessels,  and 
kept  his  pledge  most  fully.  In  a  few  weeks,  Mrs.  R. 
returned,  somewhat  recovered,  yet  still  in  broken 
health,  but  much  improved  in  mind,  with  an  easier 
conscience,  and  a  lighter  heart ;  for  her  afflictions 
had  led  her  to  learn  of  Christ,  and  to  seek  in  him 
the  aid  her  soul  needed.  Mr.  H.  felt  there  would 
be  some  risk  in  allowing  her  to  do  heavy  work, 
and  he  agreed  to  pay  two  dollars  a  week  to  the  Mis- 
sionary, Mr.  P.,  until  she  could  be  able  to  earn  her 
living.  The  husband  was  now  providing  for  himself, 
and  was  part  of  the  time  out  of  the  city. 


MAGGIE     RYAN.  189 

But  poor  Maggie,  in  her  country  home,  felt  deeply 
anxious  to  see  her  parents.  From  her  birth,  she  had 
never  been  placed  where  she  could  not  see  them  when 
she  liked ;  and  learing  her  place  she  was  brought  again  to 
her  mother.  Did  some  pitying  spirit  whisper  to  the  child 
to  come  ?  It  was  on  Saturday  when  the  mother 
and  child  were  reunited  for  a  brief  season  before  the 
life-long  parting.  The  next  day,  the  husband  and 
father  came,  and  the  three  were  gathered  at  the  Mis- 
sion. Divine  service  had  been  held  in  the  Chapel,  and 
on  returning  home  most  touchingly  did  Mrs.  R.  plead 
with  her  husband  to  attend  church  and  to  seek  the 
salvation  of  his  soul.  The  words  of  entreaty  had 
scarcely  passed  her  lips,  when  she  fell  back  and  instantly 
expired.  She  was  doing  her  Master's  work  when  tlie 
solemn  summons  came — poor  heart-stricken  Maggie  saw 
her  mother's  last  look  of  death,  and  heard  her  last 
words,  which    she    surely    never  can   forget. 

But  the  friends  of  the  family  did  not  forget  the  now 
^^  motherless  child^  And  shortly  after  one  of  our 
gentleman  visitors,  Mr.  E.,  obtained  a  situation  in  his 
father's  family  for  her,  where  she  remained  the  greater 
part  of  the  year.  But  her  father  maintaining  his  integrity, 
and  having  proved  he  could  live  a  life  of  sobriety, went  to 
housekeeping  with  his  daughter.     He  has  constant  em- 


190  MAGGIE     RYAN. 

ployment  as  a  stevedore,  and  tliey  are  now  living  in  more 
comfort  than  they  have  known  for  years  before.  He 
has  become  a  strong  advocate  for  -the  cause  of  tem- 
perance, and  we  are  informed  he  has  been  the  means 
of  causing  his  brother  to  sign  the  pledge,  and  is  doing 
all  he  can  to  promote  the  great  cause  among  his  class, 
Could  the  friends  of  the  Mission  see  the  apparent 
change  wrought  in  this  family,  from  the  damp  cellar  in 
Cross  street,  where  we  found  them,  and  their  now  com- 
fortable aj)artment  in  James  street,  they  would  feel  that 
of  a  truth,  "  The  bread  cast  upon  the  waters  shall  be 
seen  after  many  days."  We  regret  one  thing,  however, 
that  this  same  girl  should  now  be  exhibited  as  "  Y/ild 
Maggie,"  of  the  "  Five  Points,"  while  to  us,  who  first 
found  her,  and  to  those  who  subsequently  became 
acquainted  with  her,  she  has  always  been  considered 
one  of  the  most  gentle  and  interesting  children  we  have 
met  at  the  Mission. 

The  character  of  Maggie  Carson,  adopted  into  Mrs. 
Howe's  family,  and  the  history  of  Margaret  Ryan,  just 
related,  have  been  blended  together,  and  told  with  great 
effect  in  the  story  of  "  Wild  Maggie,"  in  the  Tribune. 
They  were  the  only  children  connected  with  the 
Mission,  at  that  time,  who  were  known  by  the  name  of 
Maggie — and  their  veritable  histories  are  given  in  these 
pages. 


THE     TIDY     BEGGAR.  191 


"  Please  give  me  something  for  my  sick  mother  ?" 
The  words  were  spoken  without  the  professional  whine 
which  so  often  grates  upon  the  ear,  and  the  little  girl 
who  uttered  them  was  neatly  dressed,  with  an  intelli- 
gent pleasing  countenance.     Mr.  H ,   attracted  by 

her  appearance,  called  his  wife  to  walk  home  with  her 
and  loarn,  if  possible,  why  her  parents  sent  her  out  to 
beg.  The  little  girl  listened  with  eager  interest  to  his 
words,  and  then  burst  out  into  an  uncontrollable  fit  of 
sobbing.  Mrs.  H.  tried  to  soothe,  her  by  telling  her 
that  she  only  wished  to  see  if  she  could  not  assist  her 
sick  mother,  and  after  awhile  the  child  was  pacified, 
and  led  the  way  to  her  wretched  home  in  the  attic  of  a 
poor  tenement. 

There  was  an  air  of  cleanliness  and  order  about  the 
room  ;  the  well  patched  dresses  of  the  children  were 
arrayed  against  the  roof  with  a  look  of  precision  that 
suggested  the  thought  that  these  people  had  known 
better  days.  'Here  dwelt  the  mother,  an  interesting 
German  woman,  and  three  children.  Her  history  was 
a  sad  one.  Xo  fearful  history  of  crime,  with  its  con- 
sequent  punishment, — but    the  one    imprudent    step, 


192  TPIE     TIDY     BEGGAR. 

aad  the  gradual  loss  of   ease,  and   comfort,  and  respec- 
tability. 

She  had  married  without  the  consent  of  her  friends, 
and  unwilling  to  live  where  her  husband  was  not 
liked,  she  thought  that  in  this  country  she  could  find 
a  happier  home  for  her  little  family.  They  came,  but 
the  land  where  he  had  hoped  to  secure  a  happy  home, 
only  afforded  him  a  grave.  Alone,  unaided,  she  began 
the  struggle  of  life,  with  three  helpless  children  depen- 
dent on  her  exertions.  Early  and  late  she  toiled, 
supporting  her  family  by  washing, — but  sickness  that 
has  palsied  many  an  active  frame,  put  an  end  to  her 
labors,  and  her  life  was  threatened  by  a  hemorrhage  of 
the  lungs. 

Mrs.  H.  was  greatly  interested,  and  after  a  very 
gratifying  interview  left,placing  a  piece  of  money  in  the 
hand  of  the  poor  woman,  to  meet  the  pressing  wants  of 
her  family.  A  physician  was  sent  immediately ;  and  she 
then  called  on  a  grocer,  a  friend  of  the  Mission,  who 
supplied  her  with  a  considerable  quantity  of  groceries, 
which  however  were  the  unfortunate  means  of  subse 
quent  misfortunes.  Hitherto  she  had  been  able  to  do 
something  for  herself,  and  was  not  altogether  dependent 
on  charity.  The  aid  she  had  received  from  visitors 
from  the  Mission,  provoked   the  jealousy  and  hostility 


THE     TIUY     BEGGAR.  193 

of  a  neighbor  in  the  adjoining  room,  to  so  great  an 
extent,  that  to  have  peace  at  all,  she  was  forced  to 
remove  from  the  house.  Moving  in  wet  and  unplea- 
sant weather,  brought  on  fresh  cold,  and  she  was  now 
entirely  prostrated.  The  great  difficulty  had  been 
that  scarce  a  word  she  said  could  be  understood ;  but 
one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Mission  school  speaking 
German,  I  brought  him  to  speak  with  her.  As  well  as 
her  feebleness  would  allow,  she  gave  us  her  history,  and 
the  account  of  her  misfortunes,  which  we  have  given. 
She  seemed  sadly  depressed  by  the  thought  of  the 
unprotected  state  of  her  children,  but  we  promised 
that  if  she  did  not  recover,  the  children  should  be  pro- 
vided for ;  and  one  of  them  was  accordingly  taken 
home  by  one  of  the  ladies,  and  kept  a  fortnight. 

This  gentleman  visited  her  very  often,  provided  her 
with  money,  and  with  the  delicacies  so  grateful  to  the 
taste  of  the  invalid,  and  he  did  not  forget  while  minis- 
tering to  the  wants  of  the  body,  the  demands  of  the 
immortal  spirit  within  the  decaying  tabernacle.  He 
tried  to  enlighten  her  mind  with  the  truths  of  the 
gospel,  and  read  to  her,  from  a  German  bible,  the  words 
of  Jesus.  She  expressed  her  pleasure  and  gratitude  at 
his  visits  and  prayers  ;  and  once,  when  she  thought  her- 
self near  death,  she  sent  for  one  of  the  ladies,  who  had 

9 


L 


194  THK     TI  D  V     B  E  G  G  A  R. 

first  found  her,  and  asked  lier  to  take  cliarge  of  the 
few  effects  she  had,  and  to  provide  for  her  children. 
Two  of  the  children  were  then  taken,  and  phiced  in 
the  Home  for  the  Friendless ;  but  the  quiet  of  her 
room,  where  the  hum  of  children's  voices  and  the  pat- 
tering of  little  feet  were  no  longer  heard,  and  the 
assiduous  care  of  those  who  visited  her  from  the  Mission, 
were  the  means  of  gradually  restoring  her  to  health. 

One  day,  while  conversing  with  the  kind  friend  whose 
perfect  knowledge   of  German  enabled  her  readily  to 
communicate  all  her  thoughts,  she   mentioned   the  fact 
that  her  husband's  father  had  died  in  Germany,  leaving 
a   handsome    property,    and    that    her    children    were 
among  the  heirs  to   the   estate.     The   gentleman   who 
took  so  lively  an  interest  in  her  welfare,  had  affidavits 
made    of  the  facts, — the  necessary  papers   prepared,  a 
statement  made  to  the  consul, — and  thus  was  obtained, 
from  Germany,  for  this  family    a    little   independence, 
which  placed  them   above   want.     The  children   were 
restored  to  her  from  the  Home   of  the   Friendless,  and 
with  them,  no  longer  needing  the  care  of  the  Mission,  she 
removed  to  a   comfortable  home;     Late   tidings  of  her 
tell  of  her  improved  health,  and  that    the  tidy  beg- 
gar is  now  a  studious  and  happy  little  school  girl. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

SKETCHES     FROM     THE     MISSIONARY'S     NOTE-BOOK. 

On  Monday,  July  the  29th,  a  woman  of  fine  appear- 
ance, with  one  of  those  deep  expressive  faces  that  throw 
out  a  flood  of  feehngs  with  every  word  the  lips  utter, 
came  into  the  office  and  said  that  she  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  begging,  but  that  she  had  been  di'iven  to  it  by 
her  necessities,  I  asked  her  what  she  wanted.  Her  eyes, 
already  swollen  with  weeping,  overflowed  again  with 
tears,  while  she  told  me  that  her  child  had  died  on 
Sunday,  and  up  to  that  time  she  had  not  obtained 
money  enough  to  bury  it. 

She  handed  me  a  paper,  which  on  examination,  1 
found  to  be  a  permit  from  the  sexton  of  St  Patrick's . 
Cathedral,  to  bury  the  child  in  Calvary  Cemetery.  I 
asked  her  if  she  were  a  Catholic,  She  said  she  was,  I 
then  told  her  to  go  to  the  priest,  and  tell  him  her  story, 
and  ask  his  assistance.  She  went,  but  came  back  ere 
long  in  deeper  distress  than  ever,  having  only  received 


196  T  PIE     DEAD     CHILD. 

twenty-five  cents.  On  her  way  she  had  called  at  a 
neighboring  Institution,  where  she  had  received  three 
shillings,  sixpence  of  which  she  paid  at  the  counter  of  the 
establishment  for  bread,  leaving  her  two  and  sixpence. 
As  she  counted  out  her  money,  her  face  was  the  pic- 
ture of  despair.  Oh,  how  my  heart  yearned  over  her. 
I  sent  a  man  to  the  poor  woman's  house  to  see  that  all 
was  right.  He  saw  the  dead  child — a  lovely  boy  of 
about  a  year  and  a  half  old,  with  auburn  curls  clustering 
around  his  pretty  face.  I  thought  of  my  own  little 
boy,  and  how  I  would  feel  if  he  should  die,  and  I  had 
no  money  to  bury  him. 

I  lent  her  money  enough  to  bury  the  child,  and  she 
went  away  with  a  lighter  heart. 

I  thought  that  this  was  the  last  of  the  woman,  but 
yesterday  morning  I  was  called  into  the  oflBce,  where  I 
found  her  with  her  husband.  They  both  clasped  my 
hands  in  theirs,  and  wept  their  gratitude.  I  invited 
them  to  our  chapel,  and  exhorted  them  to  seek  God. 
And  though  they  did  not  promise  to  do  either,  I  felt 
that  perhaps  seed  was  sown  that  would  produce  fruit 
in  time  to  come.  They  seemed  at  a  loss  to  find  words 
to  express  their  thanks,  and  I  needed  no  words  to  make 
known  unto  my  Heavenly  Father  the  desires  of  my 


THE    DEAD    CHILD    IX    LEONARD    STREET,  197 

heart,  that  he   would  follow  them   by   his  Spirit,  and 
save  them  with  their  angel  boy  above. 


€\)t  Brai   (Bljili  m  Irnnari  Shut 

I  was  called  on  by  two  colored  women,  to  come  and 
pray  with  a  family  that  had  lost  a  child,  three  vears  of 
age.     It  was  quite  difficult  for  me  to  leave  the  Mission, 
which    was   thronged   with   visitors,  but    I    went,  and 
found  a  house  full  of  negroes  and  Irish   citizens.     I  in- 
quired for  the  family,  but  could  not  ascertain  its  where- 
abouts.    On  going  up  stairs,  I  was  asked  into  a  room 
where  lay  a  dead  child  that  had  been  born  the  evening 
before,  and  died  during  the  night.     Its  mother,  a  poor 
black  woman,  lay  on  a  wretched  pallet   in  a  corner  of 
the  room.     A  woman,  who   seemed  to  be  a  nurse,  said, 
"  Are  you  a  doctor  ?"     "  No  !"     "  Well,  you  are  a  soul- 
doctor,  ain't  you  ?"     "  Yes ;  I  am  the  Missionary  at  the 
Five  Points."     "  "Well,  then,  you  had  better  pray  with 
that   woman,  and   see    what   you  can  do  for  her."     I 
talked    with    the    poor    woman,  and  prayed  with  her, 
leaving  them   some   aid,  and  hoping   that   God  would 
bless  them. 


198  WOMAN     IN     GOV/     BAY. 

It  was  a  lono;  time  before  I  found  the  child  I  soiiofht. 
At  last  I  came  to  the  place.  It  Avas  truly  touching  to 
see  and  hear  their  affecting  lamentations.  I  gave  them 
a  word  of  exhortation,  and  prayed  with  thera.  They 
melted  into  tears  of  penitence,  and  when  I  referred  to 
the  happiness  of  the  departed  child  taken  from  these 
scenes  of  vice  and  misery,  and  "  safely  housed"  in  one  of 
the  many  mansions  prepared  by  our  Father,  they  wept 
aloud.     May  God  in  his  mercy  help  -.and  bless  them. 


My  assistant  and  myself  went  out  to  visit  the  sick, 
and  among  others,  we  called  to  find  a  woman  in  Cow- 
bay,  who  had  sent  for  us.  We  entered  one  house  and 
searched  in  every  room,  without  success.  We  then 
tried  the  adjoining  one,  and  after  climbing  rickety 
stairs,  and  stooping  along  low  narrow  passages,  we 
reached  the  attic,  at  one  end  of  which  we  saw  a  door, 
where  we  knocked  for  some  time,  and  at  last  opened  it 
ourselves.  Our  hearts  grew  sad  within  us,  as  away  in 
one  corner,  between  a  huge  chest  on  one  side,  and  the 
brick  wall    on    the   other,  we   found  the  object  of  our 


WOMAN      IN      COW      BAT 


199 


search,  lying  on  the  dirty  floor.  Without  a  rag  of  cloth- 
ing, she  was  lying  under  a  wretched  cotton  quilt,  (which 
formed  no  contrast  in  color  with  the  floor.)  She  pre- 
sented a  fearful  picture  of  humanity  wrecked.  On  in- 
quiry, we  found  she  was  sufi'ering  the  results  of  crime, 
the  most  awful.  She  had  been  for  many  months  pur- 
suing a  course  of  most  fearful  intemperance,  and  was 
then  living  with  a  black  man.  The  present  sickness 
was  occasioned  in  the  first  place  by  excess,  and  had  af- 
flicted her  about  a  year,  but  had  been  greatly  increas- 
ed by  shocking  scenes  in  the  room.  A  white  woman, 
who  had  been  horribly  beaten  by  the  black  man  with 
whom  she  was  living,  died  on  the  Sunday  previous  to 
our  visit,  and  had  not  been  buried  until  the  succeeding 
Wednesday,  the  putrid  body  spreading  contagion  m 
every  direqijon  through  the  house,  and  especially  in  this 
low  narrow  room.  Too  weak  to  go  out,  this  poor  crea- 
ture lay  in  the  room  with  this  corpse  three  days  and  three 
nights — a  situation  horrible  beyond  description.  Her 
decline  was  hastened  by  this ;  and  the  wretched  crea- 
ture lay  before  us,  writhing  in  excruciating  agony.  My 
assistant  went  for  the  doctor,  and  I  talked  with  the 
poor  woman  about  her  soul.  She  had  been  piously 
brought  up,  and  her  parents  still  lived  in  one  of  the 
most  aristocratic  portions  of  the  city,  not  knowing  any 


200  WOMAN     IN     COW     BAY. 

thing  about  her.  She  had  often  felt  in  her  wildest  rev- 
elry that  she  was  a  sinner,  but  intemperance  and  its 
kindred  crimes  had  hurried  her  onward  until  she  had 
been  brought  to  her  present  position,  at  the  early  age 
of  twenty-three.  I  prayed  with  her^  and  found  her,  to 
all  appearance,  deeply  penitent.  Such  fearful  self- 
condemnations  I  never  heard ;  such  wailings  of  des- 
pair, as  my  mind  had  fancied,  belonged  only  to  the  pit 
itself.  I  directed  her  to  Christ,  who  could  save  even 
from  these  abysses  of  sin,  and  felt  great  satisfaction  in 
telling  the  poor  lost  one  the  blessed  story  of  the 
cross. 

Several  men  and  a  woman  now  came  into  the  room, 
and  stood  silently  looking  on.  Alone,  as  I  was,  among 
so  many  who,  from  their  looks,  were  adepts  in  crime, 
my  position  was  not  at  all  pleasant,  especially  when,  as 
I  arose  to  take  my  seat  on  the  great  chest,  some  pennies 
in  my  pocket  jingled,  and  I  noticed  a  quick  look  from 
one  to  the  other.  A.  thousand  thoughts  flew  like  light- 
ning through  my  mind  as  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  I  was  so 
completely  in  their  power,  that  they  might  accomplish 
any  purpose  they  saw  fit,  and  I  could  only  by  a  miracle  es- 
cape. My  suspense  was  soon  ended  by  the  appearance  of 
my  assistant  and  the  Doctor,  who  prescribed  for  the  sick 


W  O  M  A  X     IN     COW     BAT.  201 

"woman.  Among  other  things,  ice  was  ordered.  He  sent 
the  woman  who  had  come  in  for  it,  and  I  never  shall 
forget  the  look  of  mingled  satisfaction  and  pain 
that  spread  over  her  face  as  she  saw  me  Avith  my 
knife  break  the  ice  into  small  lumps  and  put  them  into 
the  poor  woman's  mouth.  She  said,  as  I  arose  from  the 
pleasant  task,  "  Well,  sah,  you  is  kind."  This  opened 
the  way  for  some  conversation  between  us ;  and 
following  it  up,  we  exhorted  the  whole  company  to 
forsake  the  ways  of  sin.  The  exhortations  were  honest 
ones,  and  the  audience  a  wretched  one.  "We  knelt  to 
pray  ;  the  whole  company  knelt,  and  as  my  assistant 
poured  out  his  prayer  to  God,  groans  and  cries  filled 
the  room.  The  wretched  creature  in  the  corner  cried, 
"O  God,  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner;"'  and  the  same 
prayer  rolled  forth  from  other  lips,  whose  only  prayers 
had  been  imprecations,  and  whose  penitence,  despair. 
If  angels  ever  weep  they  must  have  wept  then.  After 
a  few  days  we  had  the  sick  woman  brought  to  our 
building,  and  she  began  to  improve,  but  the  burning 
thirst  for  liquor  seemed  to  haunt  her  like  an  avenging 
spirit.  One  day  we  missed  her,  and  we  have  not  been 
able  to  find  her  since.  From  some  information  we 
have  gleaned,  we  think  she  went  out  to  satisfy  her 
craving  thirst  for  the  fiery  stimulant,  now  become  so 


I 


202  THE     IRISH     WAKE. 

fatally   necessary  to  her,  and   met  her   companion  in 
crime,  who  has  her  locked  np  in  Cow  Bay. 
Mat  God  save  her. 


During  the  hot  weather  in  August,  many  died 
from  the  intense  heat,  and  one  death  from  this 
cause  occurred  in  our  building.  Dr.  McNaire  called 
upon  me  to  visit  the  dying  woman,  whom  I  found 
lying  on  the  floor  with  her  head  slightly  elevated 
on  a  chair,  turned  down  on  the  face — her  mouth 
filled  with  foam,  and  her  pulse  quick  and  thready. 
A  number  of  Irish,  newly  arrived,  were  sitting  around, 
or  lying  on  the  boxes  in  the  room.  It  was  a  solemn 
scene.  I  knelt  and  poured  out  my  soul  in  prayer 
to  God  ;  but,  oh !  how  fearful  to  pray  at  such  an  hour 
— when  life  is  ebbing  away,  and  every  moment  may 
decide  the  destiny  of  the  soul  "  quivering  on  the  ridge 
of  life." 

Just  as  I  had  ended  the  prayer,  Mrs.  F.,  who  rented 
the  room  v/here  the  sick  woman  lay,  came  running  in, 
and  seeing  that  she  was  dying,  went  immediately  for  a 


THE     IRISH     WAKE.  203 

priest,  io  perform  extreme  unction,  and  as  I  came  out, 
I  met  him  going  in.     The  woman  soon  died. 

Then  commenced  the  preparations  for    a  wake.     I 
gave  orders  that  it  should  not  be  ;   but  my  orders  were 
disregarded.      At   midnight,    I    heard    that    wild  wail 
rolling  upoii  the   air,   and   I    was     reminded    of  that 
ancient  cry  at  midnight  in   the  laud   of  Egypt,  when 
Pharaoh  rose  up  in  the  night,  he  and  all  his  servants, 
and   all  the  Egyptians,  and    there    was    not    a    house 
where  there  was  not  one  dead.     I  thought,  too,  of  the 
startling"  summons  soundins:  out  at  midnio-ht :  "  Behold 
the   bridegroom   cometh,    go    ye    out  to    meet   him." 
I  waited  awhile,  and  while  it  was  still  dark,  I  went  up 
to  the  room  of  death.     There  stood  two  rows  of  women,  - 
with    their  left  hands  around   each  other's  waists,  and 
their  right  beating  upon  their  lips,    making,  as  they 
shouted,  a  most  horrible  noise.     Most  of  the  women 
had  never  known   the  deceased  until  they  saw  her  in 
her  dying  agonies,  and   yet  the  tears  rolled  down  their 
cheeks   in   torrents.      I   succeeded    at    last,   much  to 
my  joy,  in  breaking   up   this   strange   wild   scene  of 
frantic  wo. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE     ONE     INFIRMITY     CONQUERED. 
'  Every  man  is  the  hero  of  a  triumph  or  tragedy,  as  wide  as  the  universe." 

Strange  histories  are  there  at  the  Five  Points, 
Striking  contrasts  between  the  past  of  comfort  and 
respectability,  and  the  present  of  weariness  and  wo. 
An  enemy  has  done  this.  From  happy  homes,  and 
honored  positions,  Intemperance  has  driven  his  thou- 
sand victims  down  the  "  easy  slope"  of  sin,  until  all 
their  pleasant  places  are  hidden  from  their  sight.  It 
was  a  noble  resolve  in  j^oung  Warren  Hastings,  a  boy, 
poor  and  unfriended,  to  regain  the  broad  lands  of  his 
ancestors,  and  to  be  Hastings  of  Daylesford — a  pur- 
pose not  lost  sight  of  when  he  reigned  over  the 
millions  of  India,  and  accomplished  by  the  force  of 
his  indomitable  will.  It  is  nobler  when  a  poor,  despoiled 
child  of  earth  resolves,  in  the  strength  of  a  heaven- 
born  purpose,  to  arise  and  go  to  his  father,  to  recover 
his  alienated  inheritance,  and  to  have  his  name,  which 
had  become  a  by-word  and  reproach,  enrolled  in  the 


THE    ONE    INFIRMITY    CONQUERED.  205 

peerage  of  Heaven,  These  resoU'es,  though  not 
chronicled  on  earth,  have  their  record  on  high  I 

One,  we  know  at  the  Mission,  who  had  a  comfortable 
home  and  respectable  position.  His  father  being  in 
good  circumstances,  intended  him  for  the  church,  and 
sent  him  to  one  of  the  minor  colleges  at  the  University. 
But  while  there,  his  father  died,  leaving  his  property 
much  involved,  and  a  new  aspect  was  given  to  his  life. 
He  left  college,  and  thrown  at  once  upon  his  own 
resources,  entered  the  police  service,  and  became  head 
constable  of  the  constabulary  in  Dublin,  with  fair  pros- 
pects of  promotion  in  her  Majesty's  service  ;  but  "  this 
infirmity"  hindered  his  preferment,  and  brought  him, 
through  all  the  descending  stages  of  social  life, to  the 
Five  Points. 

During  the  time  that  he  held  this  office,  he  was  in 
the  receipt  of  a  good  salary,  and  he  gave  his  daughter 
a  very  fine  education.     While  on  a  -snsit  to  a  friend  in 

Dublin,  she  attracted  the  favorable  notice  of  Lieut. 

of  the  l7th  Lancers,  who  married  her,  much  against  the 
wishes  of  his  family,  who  were  people  of  high  birth 
and  fortune.  She  was  however  received  by  them,  and 
soon  after  accompanied  her  husband,  who  had  sold  his 
commission,  to  the  continent.  We  have  seen  her 
daguerreotype  in  her  father's  room  at  the  Mission.     It 


20G  THE     ONE     INFIRMITY     CONQUERED. 

portrays  ci  fair  creature,  richly  attired,  with  soft  eyes, 
delicate  features.,  a  well  turued  head,  hair  gracefully 
arranged,  and  a  modest,  gentle  expression  of  countenance. 
She  paid  her  father's  and  sister's  passage  to  this  coun- 
try, gave  her  picture  as  a  keepsake  to  her  step-mother, 
and  since  then  they  have  heard  nothing  from  her.  In 
her  "  travelled  and  cultivated  luxury,"  does  she  think 
of  the  struggling  ones  to  whom  she  is  so  nearly 
allied  ? 

Mrs.  B.  brought  out  to  this  country  furniture  to  the 
value  of  three  hundred  dollars,  a  good  supply  of  cloth- 
ing for  winter  and  summer,  for  herself  and  the  children, 
and  $275  in  money.  She  was  an  industrious  woman, 
and  perfectly  temperate  in  her  habits,  and  she  secured 
the  washing  of  some  gentlemen  in  the  Merchants'  Hotel 
for  a  year.  Their  first  location  was  an  unfortunate 
one,  in  a  house  in  Liberty  Street,  where  there  were  always 
smoking  and  drinking,  and  consequently,  temptations 
too  strong  for  Mr.  B.  to  resist.  His  occupation,  too, 
canvassing  the  city  with  books,  brought  him  into  daily 
contact  with  friends  from  the  old  country,  with  whom 
he  was  induced  to  take  a  social  glass,  and  so  the 
course  was  still  downward — downward. 

Removing  from  Liberty  street,  they  took  three  rooms 
in  Mulberry  street,  at  five  dollars  and  a  half  a  month, 


THE     ONE     INFIRMITY     CONQUERED.  207 

and  let  out  one  of  tuem ;  but  an  old  man,  connected 
\yitli  the  Five  Points  House  of  Industry,  "who  had 
known  Mr.  B.  in  the  old  country,  came  to  him  and 
advised  him  to  rent  a  basement  room  in  Mr.  Pease's 
house,  saying,  that  he  could  have  it  for  four  dollars  a 
month,  and  that  he  could  do  a  good  business  there. 
In  an  evil  hour  he  consented.  "  I  never  heard,"  said 
his  wife,  "  of  the  Five  Points  until  I  was  landed  in  it." 
The  room  was  in  wretched  repair,  the  plaster  fallen 
down  from  the  ceiling — and  worse  than  all,  so 
excessively  damp,  that  Mrs.  B.  was  soon  attacked  with 
inflammatory  rheumatism.  "Xot  a  hand  nor  foot, 
body  nor  bone,"  said  the  poor  woman,  "  could  I  move ; 
and  what  with  doctors'  bills,  and  other  necessary 
expenses,  the  forty  dollars  I  had  when  I  went  there, 
were  soon  gone."  Mr.  Pease,  on  being  told  of  the 
dampness  of  the  room,  had  her  carried  up  into  an  attic, 
where  the  air  was  drier  ;  but  the  change  failing  to  pro- 
duce any  amendment,  she  was  advised  to  go  to  the 
Hospital.  With  no  means  to  procure  admission  into 
the  IS'ew-York  Hospital,  she  reluctantly  consented, 
that  she  misfht  reo-ain  her  health  and  work  for  her 
family,  to  go  to  the  Hospital  on  Ward's  Island.  Her 
children,  weeping  around  her,  were  to  be  left  exposed 
to  the  terrible  influences  of  the  Five  Points,     Her  hus- 


208  THE     ONE     INFIRMITY     CONQUERED. 

band's  "infirmity"  she  knew  full  well;  and  in  her 
despair  she  turned  to  the  Superintendent  of  the  House 
of  Industry,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  take  charge  of 
her  furniture — her  feather  bed,  and  dinner  and  tea-set, 
of  stone  china,  and  all  the  other  articles  of  which  her 
memory  has  taken  a  strict  account.  Her  mind  was 
quite  relieved  when  Mr.  P.  promised  her,  as  she  was 
lifted  into  the  carriage,  that  he  would  store  her  furni- 
ture in  an  unoccupied  loft  until  her  return. 

Her  recovery  was  more  rapid  than  she  expected,  and 
though  still  on  crutches,  she  returned  home.  '•'•Home^'' 
did  I  say?  There  were  the  four  walls  of  the  room — a 
table,  with  a  loaf  of  bread,  out  of  which  a  piece  had 
been  broken  ;  for  knife  there  was  none ;  nor  spoon, 
nor  plate.  On  inquiring  of  Mr.  Pease  for  her  furniture, 
he  told  her  that  he  knew  nothino-  about  it :  that  he 
had  too  much  else  to  attend  to,  to  look  after  her  things. 
Two  of  her  children  had  been  sent  to  the  Home  of  the 
Friendless,  and  the  other  was  there,  dirty  and  neglected. 
The  poor  woman  looked  round  upon  the  empty  room, 
and  said,  "  I  brought  nothing  into  this  world,  and  I  can 
carry  nothing  out."  Mrs.  Hewlen,  the  teacher  of  the 
day  school,  came  in  to  comfort  and  pray  with  her,  and 
words  of  kindness  melted  the  heart  of  the  poor,  desolate 
creature.     Lame  as  she  was,  she  got  a  tin  pan,  and 


I 


THE     ONE     INFIRMITY     CONQUERED.        209 

washed  her  child,  and  a  few  soiled  clothes  she  found  in 
a  corner,  to  make  ready  a  clean  garment  for  the  poor 
little  neglected  one.  She  then  scoured  a  black  tin 
plate  she  found  there,  and  ate  her  "bit  off  it,"  and 
obtained  credit  with  a  neighboring  grocer  for  a  bowl, 
of  the  value  of  three  cents,  for  her  tea.  She  could  bear, 
she  said,  the  "  spoiling  of  her  goods,"  but  she  must  leave 
that  place,  for  she  hated  the  very  walls  where  she  had 
known  so  much  sorrow. 

Her  children  came  to  her  from  the  Home  of  the 
Friendless,  and  a  way  was  opened  for  her  to  depart.  A 
kind  friend  in  Greenwich  street,  who  had  known  her  in 
Ireland,  gave  her  six  dollars,  which  she  paid  at  once  for 
the  rent  of  a  room  in  Trinity-place,  where  she  remained 
for   eighteen   months,    during   which    time    she    was 

frequently  visited  by  the   Rev.  Mr.  J ,   of  the 

Floating  Chapel.  They  then  moved  to  City  Hall  place, 
where  they  were  found  by  one  of  the  Ladies  of  the 
Mission. 

One  Sunday  morning  the  lady  was  accosted  by  a  little 
girl,  who  asked  her  to  come  and  see  her  sick  mother. 
Accompanied  by  a  gentleman  associated  with  the 
Mission,  she  followed  her  little  guide  to  the  fourth 
story,  front  room,  of  a  house  in  City  Hall  Place.  Deep 
poverty  was  there,  but  there  was  still  an  air  about  the 


210       THE      ONE     INFIRMIIY     CONQUERED, 

room,  that  betokened  some  idea  of  comfort  and  respecta- 
bility. The  poor  woman  was  suffering  great  agony  from 
inflammatory  rheumatism,  her  hand  being  enormously 
swollen.     Sympathy  and   kindness   soothed   even   the 
anguish  of  disease,  and  as  the  gentleman  knelt,  and 
earnestly  commended  the  afflicted  family  to  the  care 
and  keeping  of  a  merciful  Father,  both  husband  and 
wife  were  deeply  affected.     The  husband  returned  with 
the  lady  to  the  Mission,  and  was  furnished  with  flannels 
and  sucli  articles  of  comfort  as  the  invalid  required. 
Some  days  after  he   came  again,  saying  that  his  wife 
was  now  attacked  with  inflammation  of  the  chest,  and 
was  very  low.     Mrs. at  once  sent  her  own  Physi- 
cian, who  blistered  her,  and  "  saved  her  life,"  said  her 
husband,  "for  she  would  have  surely  died  without  that 
timely  help,  as  the  Dispensary  Doctor  but  seldom  came 
to  see  her,  and  she   needed  careful  treatment."     She 
soon  recovered  ;   and  the  lady,  who  was  most  favorably 
impressed  with  Mr.  B.'s.  intelligence  Imd  gentlemanly 
bearing,  saw  that  there  were  elements  of  goodness  in 
him,  which  only  needed  culture  to  make  him  a  respec- 
table and  useful  man,  and  she  urged  him  to  take  the 
pledge.     He  did  sign  a  temperance  pledge,  which  he 
has  most  faithfully  kept,  and  he  says,  he  trusts  by   the 
grace  of  God,  that  he  never,  under  any  circumstances. 


THE     ONE     INFIRJIITY     CONQUERED.  211 

will  touch  a  drop  again.    Mrs. told  him  that,  in  the 

Spring,  there  would  be  rooms  in  the  Mission-building  to 
be  rented  at  a  low  rate,  and  that  there  he  would  1-e 
shielded  in  some  measure  from  the  temptations  which 
had  been  so  fatal  to  him. 

"  And  I  thank  God  that  I  came,"  said  he,  "  and  that 
I  ever  saw  the  Five  Points  ;  for,  but  for   the  Mission,  I 
should  have  been  lost,  body  and  soul.     And  now  every- 
thing goes  well  with  me."     The  infirm  of  purpose  has 
been  led  by  wise  counsel,  and  watchful  care,  to  a  stead- 
fast reliance  on  that  Power,  who   to  them   that   "  have 
no  might,   increaseth   strength."     The   Missionary  ob- 
tained an  excellent  situation,  with    a    good    salary,  for 
Mr.  B,,  who,  by  his  faithful   performance  of  his   duties, 
gives  great  satisfaction  to  his  employers.     Mrs.   B.   fin- 
ishes shirts  for  a  store  in  Broadway,  where  she  has  ob- 
tained work  for  two   years,  and  in  which   she  has  now 
secured  a  good  place  for  her  step-daughter,  who  very 
much  resembles  the  sister  who  is  moving   in  so   widely 
different  a  sphere.     Their  yoimgest   child  is  one  of  the 
neatest,  prettiest  little  girls  in  the  Mission  school ;    and 
their  lightsome,  tidy,  comfortable  room  in  the  Mission 
building,  tells  of  better  days. 

"  It  is  better  and  better  every  day,"  he   said,  with  a 
beaming  face,  the  day  before  Thanksgiving,  which  was 


212  THE     ONE     INFIRMITY     CONQUERED. 

probably  the  first  real  Thanksgiving  day  he  had  ever  kejjt, 
when,  with  a  full  heart,  he  could  pour  forth  his  thanks 
for  the  blessed  hopes  and  brighter  days  now  dawning 
upon  him.  The  son  is  with  an  excellent  family,  on  a 
large  farm,  in  Connecticut.  On  a  recent  visit  to  him, 
Mrs.  B.  was  delighted  to  find  him  so  happy  in  his  coun- 
try home,  away  from  the  temptations  and  dangers  of  a 
city — in  a  pious  family,  where  he  is  present  at  morning 
and  evening  prayers,  and  where  he  is  trained  up  to  the 
useful,  vigorous  life  of  a  New  England  boy.  Her  little 
daughter  who  accompanied  her,  wished  "  that  all  the 
Five  Points'  children  could  have  such  a  large,  beautiful 
place  to  play  in."  After  speaking  of  her  visit,  Mrs.  B. 
told  me  of  a  "good  dream"  she  had  had  the  night  be- 
fore. She  thought  that  our  Saviour  had  come  upon 
the  earth,  and  that  all  were  rushing  to  see  Him.  She 
too,  went,  and  saw  a  mountain  of  rolls  of  bread ;  and 
the  Saviour,  whom  she  did  not  see,  for  he  seemed  to 
be  hidden  in  this  bread,  gave  her  two  of  the  rolls,  with 
which  she  returned  home  entirely  satisfied.  The  sweet 
prayer,  "Lord,  evermore  give  us  this  bread,"  which 
perhaps  suggested  the  dream,  rose  to  my  lips,  and  Mrs. 
B.  added,  that  she  hoped  to  eat  of  that  bread  which 
would  fully  satisfy  the  hunger  of  the  soul.  This  dream 
recalled  another  to  her  mind,  which  years   before    she 


THE     ONE     INFIRMITY     CONQUERED.  213 

had  written  "  on  a  bit  of  an  old  copy  book,"  tiiat  she 
migbt  not  forget  it.  She  thought  that  she  saw  the  Sa- 
viour extended  on  the  cross,  but  that  she  saw  him  dimly 
through  a  stained  glass  window,  and  she  woke,  crying 
out, 

"  Oh,  that  I  might  my  Savioxir  see, 
With  anbeclouded  eyes." 

Lines,  that  she  said,  she  had  "  travelled  in  vain  through 
many  a  hymn  book  to  find,"  and  her  prayer  was  for 
herself  and  her  husband,  that  they  might  their  Saviour 
see  Avith  unbeclouded  eyes.  We  trust  that  her  hus- 
band has  found  that  "  the  right  hand  of  the  Most 
High"  can  give  hira  strength  to  conquer  his  "infirmity," 
enabling  him  to  walk  prayerfully  and  steadfastly  in  the 
narrow  way  upon  which  he  has  entered ;  and  that 
years  of  improved  prospects — happier,  holier  years, 
may  justify  the  wife's  declaration,  "  I  feared  the  Five 
Points  would  ba  the  death  of  me,  but  I  trust  I  have 
found  here  my  rasurrection  and  my  life." 


214     NIGHT  SCENES  IN  THE  OLD  BREWERY. 


"In  the  dark  they  dig  through  houses,  which  they  had  marked  for  them* 
selres  in  the  day  time.    They  know  not  the  light." — Job. 

After  tlie  purcliase  of  the  Old  Brewery,  rumors  were 
rife  of  hidden  treasures  buried  in  its  dark  cellars  and 
passages,  of  vestiges  remaining  of  the  crimes  that 
had  so  long  held  high  festival  in  that  gathering  place 
of  the  workers  of  iniquity.  That  there  v/as  som.e 
foundation  for  such  rumors  may  he  gathered  from  the 
following  incident.  Soon  after  the  purchase  of  the 
property,  a  man  called  on  the  agent  to  inquire  if  the 
lower  under-ground  cellar  was  to  let.  The  agent, 
though  perfectly  ignorant  of  the  fact  that  there  was 
such  a  cellar,  replied  that  he  presumed  so,  and  followed 
the  man  down  into  a  long  dark  damp  cellar  without  a 
floor,  which  had  held  some  of  the  machinery  of  the 
Old  Brewery  in  its  days  of  business.  "  For  what  purpose 
can  you  use  this  doleful  cellar  ?"  asked  the  agent,  "  I 
am  a  trader  in  vegetables,"  was  the  ready  reply,  "  and 
I  wish  to  hire  this  cellar  to  store  them  in."  The 
agent,  thus  unexpectedly  put  into  possession  of  more 
available  room,  named  his  price  for  the  month.     The 


KIGHX    SCENES    IN    THE    OLD    BREWElir.  215 

man  immediately  handed  him  the  sum  required,  took 
possession  of  the  key,  and  departed.  He  did  not 
appear  again  during  the  month,  and  but  for  the  occas- 
ional  thought  that  the  vegetable  dealer  was  very  quiet, 
the  circumstance  passed  from  the  mind  of  the  agent. 

On  the  first  of  the  following  month,  he  again  called, 
and  tendering  the  key  to  the  agent,  said  he  should  want 
the  cellar  no  longer  as  he  found  it  too  damp  for  his 
j)urpose.     There  was  an  undefinable  something  in  the 
manner  of  the  stranger  that  excited  the  curiosity   of 
the  agent,  and  taking  the  key,  he  went  immediately  to 
the  cellar.     There  were  no   indications   that  vegetables 
had  been  stored  there ;  but  there  were   evidences   of  a 
more  mysterious  transaction.     Two  holes  were  dug  in 
the  ground,  one  sufficiently  deep  and  wide  to   admit  a 
large  chest,  and  directly  over  this  hole,  an  iron  hook  was 
fastened  in  the  beam  supporting  the  floor  above,  and 
this  beam  broken,   as  if  some   very  heavy   body  had 
been    drawn   out   of  the   ground   by   a   tackle.     The 
ground  was  newly  turned  ;    the  beam  recently  broken  ; 
and    that  the  vegetable  dealer  had    taken  out  of  the 
cellar  more  than  he  put  in,  was  a  conclusion  to  which 
the  agent  speedily   arrived.     But  conclusions  were  all 
he  could  reach ;    and  with  these,  he  was  obliged  to  be 
satisfied. 


216  KIGHT    SCENES    IN    THK    OLD    BREWKRV. 

A  few  weeks    after   this,  it   v.-as    deemed   necessary 
that  the  old,  rickety    building  should  come  down. 

On  the  evening  of  Thanksgiving  day,  it  was  illuminated 
preparatory  to  its  demolition,  and  the   broad   blaze  of 
light  shone  out  cheerily  in  that  dark  place.     All  were 
willing  to  see  in  it  a   symbol  of  the   coming  light   of 
truth,  which  could  penetrate  even  that  gross  darkness. 
For  three  or  four  nights,  the   Old  Brewery  was  thrown 
open  to  the  public,  and  thousands  came   to  visit  it,  ere 
it  was  blotted  from  the  face  of  the  earth.     Each  visitor 
was  furnished  at  the  door  with  a  candle,  and  by  its 
light,  he  wandered  through  the  dark  passages,  and  up 
and  down    the    creaking  old   stair-ways — peering  into 
low,    damp,  mouldering    rooms,   and    pasting   through 
breaches  made   in   the   blackened   walls   to  afford   free 
passage  through  the  building.     It  was  curious  to  see  the 
lights  flitting  to  and  fro  in  the  darkness,  and  to   mark 
the  expectant  look  of  mingled  curiosity  and  awe  on  the 
young  faces,  many  of  whom  had   never    before    been 
brought  into  such  close  contact  with  poverty  and  crime. 
For    though  the  inmates  had  departed,  yet  the    very 
"  stones  in  the  wall  seemed  to  cry  out,"   and  echoes  of 
wailings  and  wild  revelry  to  linger  there.     And  now  the 
strange  hum  of  cheerful  voices,  and    the   open  look  of 
honest  faces,  were  in    strong   contrjist    with    the   past, 


NIQHr    SCENE3    IK    THE    OLD    BREWERT.  217 

which    pictured    its    horrors    vividly    to   imaginations 
excited  by  the  novelty  of  the  scene. 

The  work  of  demolition   was  begun ;    and  while  the 
discolored  walls,  upon  which  might  have  been  written 
whole   histories  of  sin,    were  being  taken    down,  two 
men  were  observed  to  come  frequently  and  stand  there 
with  the  air  of  unconcerned  spectators.-     One  night,  at 
one  o'clock,  a  carriage  drove  up  and  stopped  near  the 
Old  Brewery,  and  shortly  after  the  door  of  the  office 
in  the  building  was  shaken.     The  man  hired  to  watch 
the  premises  at  night,  opened  the  door,  and  was  accost- 
ed by  two  well   dressed  men :    "  Can  we  see  the  Old 
Brewery ;  we  have  heard  so    much    about  it  ?"     The 
watchman  said  it  was  rather  an  untimely  hour   for  a 
visit.     But  they  told  him  that  they  had  come  from  a 
distance,  and  were  anxious  to  see  it;  and  he  replied,  "  You 
can  see  what  is  left  of  it."     One  of  the  men,  apparently 
familiar  with  the  premises,   passed  through  the  office 
into  the  yard,  when    as   the   light    from    a   handsome 
amp  which  he  had  brought  with   him,  flashed   on   his 
face,  the  watchman  recognised  him  as  one  of  the  two 
men  whose  frequent  visits  had  been  remarked.    "  Where 
about  these  premises  do  you  live  ?"  asked   one   of  the 
strangers.     "  Up  stairs,  in  the  rear  of  the  Old  Brewery." 
"  Will  you  show  me?"  said  he,  leading  the  way  up  the 

10 


218  NIGHT    SCENES    IN    THE    OLD    BREWERY. 

old  stairs.  "  So,  here  is  where  you  live.  Will  you  take 
a  glass  of  brandy  ?"  said  he,  drawing  a  flask  from  his  side- 
pocket.  "No,  thank  you,"  said  the  watchman,  "I  am 
a  temperance  man."  "  Well,  but  you  are  out  in  the  cold, 
and  this  is  a  disagreeable  business  to  be  thus  exposed." 
Finding  that  no  entreaty  could  prevail  upon  the 
watchman  to  drink,  and  evidently  wishing  to  detain 
this  "Parley  the  Porter"  in  conversation  as  long  as 
possible,  he  offered  him  a  cigar,  and  plied  him  with 
questions  and  inquiries,  from  which  he  found  it 
diflicult  to  break  away.  He  offered  him  ten  dollars  if 
he  would  allow  two  men  to  come  on  the  premises  for 
a  few  nights  unmolested.  The  watchman  refused. 
Fifty  Dollars !  A  hundred  were  then  offered,  but  the 
watchman  still  refused  the  tempting  offer,  until  he  had 
consulted  some  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  Advisory 
Committee  by  whom  he  was  hired.  The  watchman,  ra- 
ther doubtful  of  the  propriety  of  his  course  in  thus  parley- 
ing with  the  strangers,  returned  to  the  yard,  followed  by 
his  companion,  who  asked  permission  to  look  about  him 
a  little.  He  then  measured  twelve  feet  from  the 
corner  of  the  wall,  and  looking  curiously  at  the  place, 
pulled  out  a  copper  bolt.  At  a  certain  number  of  feet 
from  another  point,  he  pulled  out  two  copper  bolts;  then 
going  down  into  the  cellar  afiid  measuring  four  feet 


KIGHT    SCENE3    IX    THE    OLD    BREWERY.  219 

from  the  ■srindow,  they  found  two  copper-nails  driven 
cross-wise  into  the  wall.  The  measurements  completed, 
apparently  to  their  satisfaction,  they  told  the  watch- 
man to  keep  his  own  secrets  and  they  would  make  him 
as  happy  a  man  as  any  in  the  Points,  and  left  him 
with  the  permission  to  return  the  following  night. 

On  communicating  these  facts  to  some  gentlemen 
of  the  Advisory  Committee,  the  watchman  was  instruct- 
ed to  have  a  police  oflScer  on  the  spot,  as  the  visit  of 
these  men  who  "  loved  darkness  rather  than  light" 
might  lead  to  the  recovery  of  stolen  property.  The 
next  night,  the  police  officer,  wrapped  in  an  old  great- 
coat, was  snuorlv  ensconced  in  a  dark  corner  of  the 
office  when  the  strangers  entered.  His  presence  was 
soon  detected  by  their  quick  eyes,  and  they  remonstrat- 
ed with  the  watchman  for  allowing  any  one  to  be 
there,  when  they  had  told  him  they  must  be  aloq/e. 
One  was  for  putting  the  man  out,  but  the  other  said, 
"  Never  mind  him,  he  is  only  a  drunken  loafer  not  able 
to  heed  anything,"  and  they  went  to  the  spot  they  had 
previously  marked.  The  police  officer  came  to  the  back 
door,  and  watched  their  movements.  They  found  a  soft 
place  in  the  ground,  apparently  of  some  decaying  matter, 
and  with  a  sharp  pointed  stick  they  "  speared"  the 
ground   here  and   there,  till  they  seemed  to  discover 


220  NIGHT    SCENES    IN    THE    OLD    BREWERY. 

what  thej  wanted.  They  found,however,  on  coming  back 
to  tke  office  that  the  sleeping  man  had  disappeared,  and 
looking  out  of  the  door  they  saw  him  rapidly  hasten- 
ing in  the  direction  of  the  Tombs  for  assistance.  "  We 
have  been  entrapped,"  said  one  of  the  men,  "  and  we 
must  be  off  at  once  ;"and  they  immediately  disappeared. 
The  counter-plot  was  not  successful.  The  watchman  tried 
to  follow  out  the  clue  they  had  given.  He  removed 
a  large  stone  from  the  wall  of  the  "  Den  of  Thieves" 
■whence  they  had  taken  the  copper  bolt,  but  he  found 
no  casket  concealed  behind  it.  He  dug  in  "  the  soft 
place"  where  the  strangers  had  "  been  spearing,"  but  no 
gleam  of  golden  treasure  rewarded  his  toil. 

Night  after  night  passed,  and  no  tidings  of  the 
mysterious  strangers.  At  length,  the  watchman  saw 
five  of  them  in  the  yard,  they  having  effected  their 
entrance  in  the  rear.  Fearing  that  they. might  tie 
him  up  while  they  carried  away  what  must  be  of  some 
worth  to  involve  such  trouble  and  expense — he  went 
to  his  room  for  his  pistol,  the  firing  of  which  was  the 
signal  agreed  upon  with  the  police.  He  fired,  and 
at  once  stones  and  brick-bats  were  hurled  at  him 
without  mercy,  but  he  could  easily  shelter  himself 
behind  the  fragments  still  standing,  of  the  wall  of  the 
Old  Brewery.     "  Kill  him  !  kill  him  !"  they  cried  out,  as 


NIGHT    SCENES    IN    THE    OLD    BREWERY.  221 

he  again  fired,  and  filling  the  air  with  imprecations, 
they  climbed  over  the  rear  wall  towards  Pearl  street, 
leaving  behind  them  their  implements  of  digging. 

No  more  parleying  with  the  porter  after  this !  The 
mystery  was  still  unravelled,  the  nightly  visitation  still 
unexplained !  The  significant  marks  on  the  stone  in 
the  wall — the  bribe  ofi'ered  to  the  watchman — all 
suggested  visions  of  jewels  and  precious  things  to 
those  made  acquainted  with  what  was  passing  at  the 
dead  hour  of  the  night,  amidst  the  crumbling  walls  of 
the  Old  Brewery. 

But  vice  is  often  on  the  alert  when  duty  sleeps  at  her 
post.  How  or  when  we  know  not,  but  probably  while 
the  watchman  slept,  the  persevering  strangers  effected 
their  purpose,  and  carried  off  the  object  of  their 
search.  Silently  and  surely  they  did  their  work, 
though  they  were  obliged  to  remove  a  large  heap  of 
rubbish,  which, by  the  order  of  the  contractor  for  the 
building,  had  been  placed  upon  the  spot.  A  hole  had 
been  dug  near  the  place  indicated  by  their  marks,  and 
nothing  was  left  but  the  void  from  which  may  have 
been  taken  treasures  of  great  price. 

The  Old  Brewery  may  have  had  its  brilliant  jewels 
carefully  hidden  from  the  light  of  day,  but  we  have 
not  seen  them.      We  have  seen  the  jewels  of  the  New 


222  NIGHT    SCENES    IN    THE    OLD    BREWERY. 

Mission  House  ;  precious  stones,  gatliered  from  deep 
caverns  of  crime,  yawning  abysses  of  iniquity — need- 
inp-  to  be  "  cleared  of  the  dark  incrustations  of  sin," 
and  to  be  "fretted"  and  polished,  tliat  tliey  may 
shine  in  that  day  when  the  Lord  of  Hosts  maketh  up 
his  jewels. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE     MAYNOOTH     PRIEST. 

The  experience  of  those  who  visit  at  the  Five 
Points,  is  singularly  varied  and  interesting.  Some  new 
phase  of  human  life  is  continually  presented — not 
always  portraying  the  gradations  of  vice,  and  leading 
us  step  by  step  to  the  lowest  point  that  fallen  human- 
ity can  reach  ;  not  merely  relieving  the  dark  picture 
by  a  faint  flash,  which  seems  only  to  reveal  what 
might  have  been,  if  purer  influences  had  sooner  exerted 
their  power,  and  which  was  not,  because  the  Christian 
Church  had  failed  to  perform  its  appropriate  work 
here,  until  hundreds  of  adults  were  hardened  in  vice, 
and  scores  of  children  blighted  in  their  opening  years. 

Not  always  are  pictures  such  as  these  permitted  to 
agonize  the  Christian  hearts,  who,  in  the  providence  of 
God,  are  called  to  labor  in  this  fearful  place. 

Ever  and  anon,  amid  this  desert  waste,  is  discovered 
an  oasis  so  green  and  so  refreshing,  that  the  despond- 
ing   laborer,  gazing  on  the  scene,  feels  new  life  rushing 


224  THE     MAYNOOTH     PRIEST. 

through  his  exhausted  spirit,  reviving  him   afresh,  for 
the  continued  path  of  painful  eflfort. 

This  chapter  will  illustrate  our  meaning.  We  leave 
the  openly  vicious,  whose  lives  have  been  reformed 
through  the  influences  issuing  from  the  Mission.  "We 
forget  the  drunkard,  the  swearer,  and  the  gambler,  and 
turn  to  the  moral  man,  who,  with  a  cultivated 
intellect,  and  an  irreproachable  character,  was  brought 
in  the  providence  of  God,  from  a  far  country,  to  the 
Five  Points,  there  to  learn  that  morality  is  not  reli- 
gion ;  there  to  be  made  a  partaker  of  that  inward 
life,  for  which  he  had  sought  through  many  weary 
years.  It  is  pleasant  to  trace  his  onward  course 
of  usefulness,  and  leave  him  in  the  strength  of  his 
manhood,  occupying  a  sphere,  which  in  the  language 
of  a  poet, 

"  Miglit  fill  an  angel's  heart, 
And  filled  a  Saviour's  hands." 

Then  we  depict  the  strangest  sight  of  all.  A 
Christian,  sick,  aged  and  in  utter  poverty,  living  in  the 
Five  Points — strong  in  hope,  triumphant  in  faith, 
irreproachable  in  life,  powerful  in  example,  victorious 
in  death.  "'Tis  strange,  'tis  passing  strange,"  and  we 
pause  and  wonder  before  these  varied  manifestations  of 
the  Holy  Spirit's  power,  of.  the  wondrous  adaptation  of 


THE     MATNOOTII     PRIEST.  225 

redemptiou's  glorious  plan  toman,  irrespective  of  country, 

name,  and  all  those   adventitious  circumstances  which. 

so    affect    human   judgment    and    human    estimation. 

The    second  year  of  the  Mission  opened    amid    many 

difficulties  and  trials.     The  bold  idea  of  purchasing  '  the 

old  Brewery,'  had  not  yet  been  uttered  except  in  the 

form  of  a  suppressed  wish,  which  it  seemed  extravagant 

to  cherish ;  and  the  germ  of  all  the  embarrassments, 

which  in  succeeding  months   gathered  darkly  around 

us,  was  even   then  unfolding ;  creating  an  atmosphere 

so  dim,  that  the  eye  of  faith  alone  could  look  beyond 

it,  and  discern  the  star  of  Bethlehem  pointing  us  onward 

to  that  visible  manifestation  of  the  Saviour's  power  and 

glory  in  this  benighted  place,  the  hope  of  which  had 

inspired  us  to  attempt  a  Mission   here,  and  sustained  us 

thus  far  in  oui"  weary  work. 

While    sending    abroad    our   temporal    charities,    as 

far  and  wide  as  oui*  limited  means  would  permit,  the 

main   design    of   the   Missioi^  was  never  for  a  moment 

forgotten.     What  though  the  drunkard  was  reformed, 

the   vicious    reclaimed,   the  idle   supplied  with  work  ? 

What  though  the  children  were  gathered  into  school, 

and  their  miserable  parents  in  some  degTce  influenced  by 

the  kindness  thus  shown  ?     While  all  this  was  effected, 

in  numberless  instances,  time  was  giving  place  to  et^Y- 

1 0 -^ 


226  THE     MAYNOOTH     PRIEST. 

nit  J.  Together,  the  Christian  laborers  and  the  hardened 
sinners  were  hurrying  to  the  judgment  seat.  The 
soul,  the  immortal  soul,  encased  in  the  diseased  and  loath- 
some body,  and  almost  benumbed  under  the  combined 
pressure  of  ignorance  and  sin,  seemed  ever  to  utter  a 
low  and  plaintive  cry  for  rescue  and  for  aid,  to  those 
who  were  rejoicing  in  the  personal  consciousness 
of  a  present  and  Almighty  Saviour — and  stronger  and 
yet  stronger  grew  the  resolve,  that  no  plan  of  outward 
success,  no  prospect  of  worldly  popularity,  no  rapid 
advance  of  visible  improvement,  should  for  one  moment 
usurp  the  place,  or  occupy  the  time  of  those  direct, 
religious  influences,  which  alone  can  work  the  abiding 
moral  renovation  of  the  undying  spirit. 

Prominent  among  the  religious  meetings  thus 
sedulously  maintained,  was  the  class-meeting,  but  so 
modified  to  suit  the  existing  want  of  the  people  that  the 
original  idea  of  its  institution  was  almost  lost ;  for  it 
was  not  the  meeting  tog^kher  of  Christians  to  compare 
the  actual  experience  of  renewed  hearts,  and  to  receive 
encouragement  and  instruction  from  a  leader  in  ad- 
vance of  them  in  deep  spiritual  knowledge.  It  was 
more  properly  an  inquiry-meeting,  where  the  ignorant, 
the  superstitious,  or  the  half  awakened  sinner  came  to 
ask  questions,  to  propose  doubts,  to   admit  increasing 


THB     MATNOOTH     PRIEST.  227 

light,  and  to  be  led  from  the  first  dawn  of  spiritual 
day,  into  the  noontide  brightness  of  conscious  personal 
salvation. 

One  Sunday  morning,  the  Mission-room  was  filled,  as 
usual,  with  rescued  children,  and  attentive  adult  lis- 
teners. The  Missionary  preached  from,  "Except  ye 
repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish."  He  explained 
simply  and  solemnly  the  nature  of  true  repentance, 
its  necessity,  and  the  fearful  results  of  neglecting  it. 

While  enforcing  the  subject,  his  eye  rested  upon  a 
countenance  he  had  not  seen  before.  It  was  that 
of  a  respectable  looking  man,  in  the  prime  of  life.  It 
indicated  deep  and  troubled  thought,  but  as  visitors 
wei'e  frequent  at  the  Mission,  and  his  whole  appearance 
seemed  to  show  that  he  did  not  belong  to  that"  region, 
the  natural  conclusion  was,  that  he  was  a  casual, 
though  deeply  interested  visitor.  The  time  and  place 
of  the  class-meeting  were  announced,  and  a  general 
invitation  was  given  to  all  anxious  on  the  subject  of 
religion  to  attend. 

The  evening  came,  and  in  the  little  Mission  room 
were  assembled  from  twenty  to  thirty  ignorant  and 
degraded  men  and  women.  In  some,  curiosity  had 
been  the  predominant  motive ;  in  others,  a  vague  alarm 
had  been  awakened ;   in  some,  the  influence  of  eailier 


228  THE     MAYNOOTH      PRIEST. 

years  were  asserting  their  power  ;  in  othei's,  the  spirit 
of  true  repentance  was  reyealing  the  past,  and  awakeii- 
ing  a  faint  hope  for  the  future.  As  the  Missionary 
glanced  over  his  httle  flock  to  take  anew  the  gauge 
of  their  necessities,  he  saw  the  stranger  who  had 
attracted  his  notice  on  the  preceding  Sabbath.  He 
was  there  in  that  little,  simple  meeting.  Who  was 
he  ?  What  brought  him  there  ?  thought  the  Missionary, 
too  much  accustomed,  however,  to  strange  things  to 
feel  more  than  a  momentary  hesitation.  The  hymn 
was  sung,  the  prayer  uttered,  the  usual  testimony 
elicited,  suitable  advice  given  to  all  who  w^ere  in  the 
habit  of  attending,  and  the  Missionary  accosted  the 
stranger. 

He  arose,  and  in  a  calm  and  impressive  manner, 
made  (in  substance)  the  following  remarks  :  "  I  was 
brought  up  a  Roman  Catholic.  I  was  for  many  years 
a  priest  in  that  communion,  but  several  years  ago 
through  the  reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  I  became 
convinced  that  neither  the  doctrine  nor  the  practice 
of  that  Church  is  in  accordance  with  the  word  of  God. 
I  left  it,  and  have  ever  since  been  seeking  after  light 
and  rest.  I  left  my  native  country,  and  am  here  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land.  Last  Sunday,  sir,  I  heard 
you  preach.    You  explained  the  nature  of  true  repen- 


THE     MATNOOTH     PRIEST.  229 

tance.  With  exceeding  power,  the  question  was  forced 
upon  my  mind,  Have  I  repented  ?  I  felt  I  had  not, 
according  to  that  rule.  You  spoke  of  forgiveness  of 
sins,  and  the  consciousness  of  pardon.  I  saw  there 
was  an  experience  I  had  never  known.  I  had  profes- 
sed for  years  to  forgive  the  sins  of  others,  and  I  felt 
that  hour,  that  mine  were  not  forgiven.  You  enforced 
the  text  that  all  would  perish,  except  they  repented. 
I  saw  I  was  among  the  number,  and  I  became  alarmed. 
I  went  home  to  read,  and  think,  and  pray,  but  the 
conviction  continues.  I  am  alarmed  to-night.  Yf  hat 
must  I  do.  Sir,  to  obtain  rest  and  safety  1  I  came  here  to 
be  instructed  in  these  important  truths."  He  sat 
down,  and  for  some  moments  silence  prevailed.  The 
Missionary  was  praying  for  "  the  wisdom  that  is  profita- 
ble to  direct."  A  conversation  then  ensued.  Feelings 
were  expressed,  difBculties  stated,  and  explanations 
given.  The  plan  of  redemption  was  simply  unfolded, 
and  passages  of  Scripture  marked  for  examination  and 
for  proof.  They  parted,  with  the  mutual  agreement 
to  pray  earnestly  for  the  enlightening  influences  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  until  they  should  meet  again. 

For  weeks,  a  similar  course  was  pursued.  On  the 
Sabbath  he  was  a  wrapt  and  prayerful  listener.  In  the 
temperance  meetings,  he  exerted  all  his  influer  ce,  and  in 


230  THE     MAVNOOTH     PRIEST. 

the  class-meeting,  he  narrated  his  struggles  and  his  de- 
sires.    His  manner  was  singularly  calm  and  quiet.    He 
would  give  tlie  most  perfect   analysis  of  his   emotions, 
compare   them   with  the    word   of    God,  note   where 
they  were  in  accorda^ee  with  it,  and  where  they  came 
short  of  its  requirements.     But  to  his  own  perception, 
this  seemed  a  mere  intellectual  process.     He  complain- 
ed that  he  did  not  feel,  while  the  Missionary  and  his 
wife,  who  were  sympathizing  with   him   at   every  step, 
saw  clearly,  that  while   light  increased,  his  spirituality 
increased   also,  and  that  he  was  gradually  approaching 
that  point  where  the  witness  of  acceptance  would  seal  the 
perfect  consecration,  and  the  consciousness  of  adoption 
fill  him   with  joy  unspeakable.     Three   months  passed 
by :  for   occasionally   he   was   impeded   by    harassing 
doubts  and  fears.     "  Justification  by  faith"  was  a  mys- 
tery not   yet   grasped.     He  saw  clearly  his  need  of  a 
Saviour.    He  recognized  Jesus   as  that  Saviour.     He 
rejoiced  in  the  redemption  accomplished  for  the  world. 
He  believed  that  he  was  included  in  it,  but  the  simple 
reliance  of  the  soul  upon  Christ,  as  a  personal  present 
Saviour,  was  not  yet  exercised.      The  transition  point 
was  not  yet  passed. 

Some   months  previous   to  this,  a  youth  connected 
with  the  Sabbath  School  of  the  Mission,  had  been  taken 


THE     MAVNOOTH     PRIEST.  231 

31,  and  was  now  about  to  die.    Peace  reigned  in  his  heart, 
and   Heaven   was   opening  before  him.      A  summons 
came  to  the  Missionary  to  visit  him  once  more,  and  he  in- 
vited his  anxious  friend  to  accompany  him.     Together 
they   stood   beside   that   bed  of  death.      The   wasted, 
pallid  face  grew  bright  at  their   approach,  and  to  the 
Missionary's  question,  "  How  do  you  feel  now,  Thomas  ?" 
came  forth  the  triumphant  response  :  "  Oh,  I  am  happy, 
Mr.  Luckey.     I  feel  I  am  going  home.     My  sins  are 
all  forgiven,  praise,  praise  the  Lord."      They  bowed  in 
prayer  and  praise,  and  then,  having  an  engagement, 
the  Misssionary  immediately  left.     His  companion  re- 
mained beside  the  dying  lad.     Weak  and  exhausted,  he 
lay  motionless,  with  his  eyes  closed,  looking  as  though 
the  vital  spark  was  even  then  extinguished.     Solemn  and 
varied  were  the  thoughts  that  occupied  that   watcher's 
mind,  and  filled  his  heart   with   almost  uncontrollable 
emotion.  Not  that  the  scene  in  all  respects  was  new.  He 
had  stood  beside  scores  of  death  beds,  and  heard  con- 
fessions, and  given  absolution,  and  applied  holy  oil.    He 
had  seen  souls  trembling  on   the  verge  of  Purgatory, 
and  shrinking  in  utter  dread  from  the  undefined  process 
which  was  to  prepare   them   eventually  for   a  distant 
Heaven ;  and  he  had  soothed  them  with  the  promise  of 
nnumerable  masses  (vhich   were  to  redeem  them  from 


'232         THE  MAYNOOTH  -PBIEST. 

the  bondage  of  another  sphere.  But  in  the  clear  light 
which  had  lately  shone  into  his  mind,  he  saw  that 
this  was  not  the  truth.  He  saw  that  earth  was 
the  place  where  redemption  was  achieved,  and  where 
victory  was  promised.  In  the  Bible  he  had  read, 
"  0,  death,  where  is  thy  sting,  0,  grave,  where  is 
thy  victory  !"  "  Thanks  be  unto  God  who  giveth  us  the 
victory,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  And  hero, 
before  his  eyes  was  a  living,  yet  dying  exemplification 
of  these  glorious  truths.  He  saw  clearly  that  Christ 
was  indeed  a  Saviour — an  Almighty  Saviour.  The  tri- 
umphant words  of  the  dying  la  1  were  ringing  in  his 
ears,  "  I  am  happy.  I  am  going  Home.  My  sins  are 
all  forgiven."  Unconsciously,  his  personal  confidence 
was  increasing,  and  faith  and  hope  were  gaining  ascen- 
dency over  doubt  and  fear.  He  sat  gazing  on  the  boy. 
Suddenly  the  closed  eye  opened,  and  fastened  its  earn- 
est gaze  upon  him,  and  with   supernatural   energy,  the 

dying  lad  exclaimed,  "  Mr. ,are  your  sins  forgiven  ? 

Is  Christ  your  Saviour  ?"  The  dim  eye  closed  agam, 
and  the  mortal  put  on  immortahty.  "  Is  Christ  your 
Saviour?"  the  question  echoed  through  that  gazer's 
heart.  Eapidly  his  mind  surveyed  the  past,  the  present, 
and  the  future.  The  fulness  and  freeness  of  redeem- 
ing grace  opened  to  his  spiritual  vision.     His  weary 


THE     MAYNOOTH     PRIEST.  233 

heart  reposed  itself  on  Christ.  The  wilness  of  accept- 
ance was  clearly  and  joyously  experienced,  and  he  ex- 
claimed,— "  0,  yes.  I  feel  He  is  my  Saviour.  O, 
Thomas,  would  that  you  had  lived  till  I  could  have  told 
you  so  !" 

The  work  was  done,  and  the  man  stood  forth  a  re- 
deemed and  willing  Agent.  To  find  a  proper  sphere  of 
action  was  now  the  question  which  he  naturally  refer- 
red to  his  Christian  friends.  Many  difficulties  arose. 
Those  who  did  not  know  the  minutise  of  his  history 
were  afraid  he  might  be  insincere — he  mio-ht  be  a 
Jesuitical  teacher.  But  the  Missionary  knew  better. 
He  knew  how  gradually  and  thoughtfully  that  "  inner 
work"  had  been  accomplished,  and  he  had  daily 
evidence  that  it  was  deep  and    thorough.      He  stood 

surety   for   him,  and   Mr. was  employed  by  the 

American  Bible  Society,  as  Agent  in  various  places,  and 
by  the  American  and  Foreign  Christian  Union,  as  col  ■ 
porteur  and  reader.  This  general  work  did  not  satisfy 
him.  His  heart  yearned  for  the  communion  in  which 
he  had  found  light  and  peace,  and  he  wrote  to  Mr.  L., 
stating  his  diflBculties  and  wishes. 

The  influence  of  his  spiritual  father  was  again  ex- 
erted.    He  was  introduced  into  the Conference  and 

tie  is  now  the  pastor  of  a  charge  in  a  neighboring  state. 


234  THE     MATNOOTH     PRIEST. 

A  sphere  seems  opeuing  before  him,  which,  if  he 
lives  to  fill  successfully,  will  reveal  with  sunlight  clear- 
ness why  he  was  brought  to  the  Five  Points,  there  to 
have  his  deepest  sympathies  for  the  Mission  enlisted, 
and  to  feel  a  tie  to  his  spiritual  birth-place,  stronger 
than  that  which  binds  him  to  ease,  fame,  or  a  more  hon- 
orable position  among  men. 

The  facts  contained  in  the  above  sketch  were  per- 
fectly familiar  to  many.  But  to  make  assurance  doub- 
ly sure,  the  writer  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 

,  requesting   information   on   some   points.      We 

give  his  answer,  even  at  the  risk  of  repetition,  as  confirm- 
atory of  many  facts,  particularly  those  public  ones  which 
are  known  to  many,  and  must  be  interesting  to  all. 

Dec.  10,  1853. 

In  compliance  with  your  request,  I  hasten  to  give 
you  a  sketch  of  the  history  of  my  past  life,  in  the 
hope  that  it  may,  in  some  measure,  contribute  to 
advance  the  interests  of  the  "  Mission." 

I  was  born  in  Ireland,  in  the  town  of  C ,  County 

of  M ,  and  Province  of  Connaught.  From  my  child- 
hood I  had  been  intended  for  the  Romish  Priesthood. 
I  was  accordingly  educated  for  that  profession ;  was 
in  due  time  sent  by  the  then  Bishop  of  the  Diocese 
(Killala)  to  the  Roman  Catholic  College  of  Maynooth ; 
finished  my  Collegiate  course  therein  ;  was  "  ordained"  in 


THE     M^Y^■OOTH     PRIEST.  235 

College,  and  immediately  after  was  sent  by  the  Bishop 
to  Dean  L.'s  parish  with  full  power  and  extraordina. 
ry  jurisdiction,  to  officiate  there  as  Roman  Catholic 
Priest.  I  said  extraordinary — for  while  no  other 
priest  in  the  Diocese  had  the  power  of  absolving 
in  the  confessional  any  man  or  woman  who  was  guilty 
of  the  awful  crime  of  going  into  a  Protestant  House 
of  worship,  dm-ing  (they  would  not  say  Divine) 
service,  I  had,  as  I  then  foolishly  imagined,  the 
power  of  absolving  in  such  a  case.  That  is  called 
a  "  reserved  case,"  because  it  is  reserved  to  the  Bishop. 
I  have  made  a  digression  from  my  subject,  for  the 
purpose  of  letting  the  reader  know  the  reason  why  my 
Catholic  countrymen  are  so  much  afraid  of  entering  any 
of  our  Meeting-Houses  on  the  Sabbath  day.  But  to 
return.  I  officiated  as  Priest  for  the  space  of 
eight  years  —  reading  masses,  hearing  confessions, 
giving  absolutions,  enjoining  penances,  giving  the 
Eucharist,  banishing  the  Devil  out  of  tubs  full  of  pure 
water  by  reading  certain  Latin  prayers  over  them, 
and  thiowing  in  some  salt,  and  then  sprinkling  the 
people  with  the  same,  or,  in  other  words  with  "  Holy 
Water,"  anointing,  not  the  sich^  but  the  dying,  giv- 
ing them  the  "  Viaticum,"  and  reading  masses  for  the  re- 
pose of  their  souls,  after  their  death.  For  a  con- 
siderable time  before  the  expiration  of  the  period 
above  named,  I  was  harassed  and  perplexed  with 
doubts,  in  reference  to  Tr  an  substantiation  and  priestly 
absolution.     T  endeavored  to  shake  them  off  by  falling 


236  THE     MAYNOOTH     PRIEST. 

back  on  tLe  "  Infallibility"  of  The  Church,  and,  as 
I  was  bound  to  do  in  such  a  case,  by  going  to  confession  ; 
and  in  tbat  tribunal,  it  Avas  invariably  decided  that  my 
doubts  were  a  temptation  of  the  Devil !  but  all  this  did 
not  remove  them,  for  though  sometimes  checked 
by  the  various  restraints  imposed  upon  me,  they  were 
sure  to  return  with  renewed  force.  In  this  state  I 
spent  many  sleepless  nights  and  wearisome  days,  till 
at  length,  by  frequent  and  attentive  reading  of  the 
Bible,  I  found  myself  in  good  faith,  constrained,  though 
reluctantly,  to  come  to  the  conclusion  that  these  doc- 
trines not  only  had  no  foundation  in  the  word  of  God, 
but  were  repugnant  thereto.  This  being  the  case, 
and  therefore,  not  being  able,  conscientiously  or  consist- 
ently, to  remain  any  longer  in  "  Mother  Church,"  I 
resolved  to  leave,  and  accordingly  did  so,  and  joined 
the  Church  of  England,  in  connexion  with  which 
I  vfas,  after  some  time,  appointed  curate  in  my 
native  town.  This  of  itself  is  proof  positive  that  my 
previous  moral  character  was  unexceptionable,  and 
also  that  the  step  which  I  had  so  lately  taken  must 
have  proceeded  from  conviction  alone,  in  the  absence 
of  any  other  motive  whatever.  As  it  appears  to  me 
to  be  of  the  utmost  importance  to  establish  this  point, 
I  here  give  the  words  of  the  Church  of  England  Minis- 
ter himself,  whose  assistant  I  had  been  : — 

"  The    Rev. ,  who  was  for  many  years  a  priest 

in  the  Church  of  Rome,  oflBciated  by  permission  of  the 


THE     MAYNOOTH     PRIEST.  237 

Lord  Bishop  of  Tuam,   as   assistant   to  me  for    more 
than  a  year  in  this  parish. 

"  Rich'd    St.    George, 
Vicar  of  Killala,  Ireland. 
''August  12th,  1850." 

I  sent  Rev.  R.  St.  G-eorge  a  written  resignation  of 
my  curacy,  and  then  had  a  far  wider  field  for  work, 
for  I  was  soon  invited  by  Presbyterians,  Baptists,  and 
Methodist  ministers,  far  and  near,  to  preach  in  their 
respective  churches ;  and  I  did  so,  and  have  been 
instrumental,  I  trust,  in  doing  much  good  by  preaching 
in  the  Irish  language  to  hundreds  of  Romanists,  who 
could  not  be  reached  in  any  other  way.  I  subsequent- 
ly began  to  hold  meetings  in  the  rural  districts 
amongst  the  Roman  Catholics,  on  week-day  even- 
ings, and  continued  to  preach  in  three  diflferent  places 
on  the  Sabbath.  At  length  being  left  to  my  own 
resources  almost  entirely  for  maintenance,  and  being  a 
very  poor  hand  at  making  my  wants  known  to  those 
who  would  be  ready  to  assist  me  with  pecunia- 
ry aid,  I  came  to  the  determination  of  setting  out 
for  America.  Accordingly  I  left  Ireland  in  April, 
1851,  and  sailed  from  Liverpool  for  New  York,  I 
arrived  here  without  suffering  in  any  way  from  the 
voyage,  not  having  been  even  sea-sick ;  and  found 
difficulties  in  my  way,  for  some  time,  by  reason  of  not 
being  then  connected  with  any  particular  section  of 
the  Church  of  Christ ;  but  after  some  time,  I  had  to  say 


238  THE     MAYNOOTH     PRIEST. 

witli  tlie  Psalmist,  "Bless  the  Lord,  0,  my  soul,  and  all 
that  is  within  me,  bless  his  holy  name." 

Having  heard  of  the  Mission  at  the  Five  Points,  and 
what  was  being  done  there  in  the  cause  of  Temperance 
and  the  Gospel,  I  went  thither,  became  acquainted 
with  Brother  Luckey,  then  the  Ladies'  Missionary  in 
that  place,  and  the  more  I  saw  of  him  the  better  I 
liked  him.  I  heard  him  preach  on  the  ensuing  Sab- 
bath, assisted  in  keeping  drunken  men  and  women 
from  talking  during  sermon,  and  children  from  pulling 
each  other  by  the  hair.  I  endeavored  to  get  every 
one  of  the  degraded  and  abandoned  creatures  in  the 
shape  of  human  beings,  to  sign  the  pledge,  and  pray 
to  God  to  give  them  grace  and  strength  to  keep  it. 
I  attended  the  prayer-meetings  and  class-meetings 
while  in  New  York.  It  was  here  I  was  led  to  see 
and  feel  that  during"  the  time  past  I  had  been  only 
drawing  a  line  of  demarcation  between  truth  on  one 
hand  and  error  on  the  other,  but  that  I  never  really  ex- 
perienced the  love  of  God  in  my  heart  before  ;  never  up 
to  that  time  knew  anything  of  the  power  of  religion 
in  the  soul.  Instead  of  preaching  to  others,  I  now  began 
to  preach  to  myself,  and  to  read,  meditate  and  pray. 
While  I  thus  continued  to  progress  in  spirituality,  I 
did  what  I  could  to  promote  the  religion  whose  power 
I  then  felt,  among  all  those  with  whom  I  came  in 
contact,  especially  in  that  part  of  the  city.  I  have 
been  successively  and  successfully  employed  by  the 
Rockland  County  Bible  Society,  as  their  agent  in 
that  county ;  by  the  American  Bible  Society  in  New 


/ 


THE     RICH     POOR     MAN 


239 


York  at  Staten  Island ;  by  the  American  Foreign  and 
Christian  Union,  in  Norfolk  County,  Mass.,  and  am  now 
pastor  of  the  M.  E.  Church.  In  all  these  stations  I 
have  discharged  my  duty  faithfully  and  fearlessly, 
"  being  strong  in  the  Lord  and  in  the  power  of  his 
might."  Yours   respectfully, 

G " 


%\i  airjr  l^nnt   3Hiin. 

"How  poor,  how  rich,  how  abject,  how  august, 
How  complicate,  how  woaderful  is  man !" 

In  the  fall  of  1851,  my  attention  was  called  to  an 
old  man,  who  had  taken  a  seat  in  the  Mission 
room.  His  whole  appearance  bore  the  marks  of  re- 
spectability, although  his  clothing  was  very  common, 
and  the  cane  upon  which  he  leaned  for  support,  was 
but  a  rude  stick.  He  was  evidently  in  declining  health, 
but  his  face  seemed  the  index  of  patient  resignation. 
For  several  succeeding  Sabbaths  he  continued  to  come, 
and  one  day  I  resolved  to  follow  the  old  man  home,  un- 
noticed by  him.  He  walked  slowly  up  Anthony  street, 
till  he  passed  Centre.  When  a  few  doors  above,  he 
went  down  a   crooked  pair   of  steps,  to  the  basement 


240  THE     RICH     POOR     MAN. 

of   an  old  house.      I    waited    till    he    had   entered, 
and  then  knocked  at  the  door.     It  was  opened  by  a 
pleasant-faced   Irish  -woman,  who   bade   me  come   in. 
"  Have  you  any  children  who  do  not  attend  Sabbath- 
school  ?"    I  asked,  (this  being  the  question  we  often, 
put   when   visiting  strangers  in   this  locality.)     "N"©, 
ma'am;  this  is  all  I  have,"   holding   up   her  infant  for 
my    admiration.     I    spoke    to    the  child,  while  at  the 
same  time  I  took  a  survey  of  the  apartment.     It  was 
not  a  large  room,  yet  four  bedsteads  were  placed  against 
its  sides,  with  no  division  or  compartment,  save   a  strip 
of   muslin.      Reader !    this  was  a   hoarding  house,  of 
rather  a  better  class  than  mianv  we  witness  in  the  Five 
Points,  for   it   had    the  luxury  of  bedsteads,  which,  if  I 
might  judge  from  their  appearance,  had   comfortable 
beds  upon  them.     I  found  it  was  near  dinner  time  ;   the 
boarders  were  expected  home.      One  had  arrived,  and 
had  taken  his  seat  upon   a  bench,   and  was  opening  a 
Bible.     It  ivas  our  old  friend  from  the  Mission  room. 
"  You  read  the  Bible,  I  see,"  said  I,  addressing  the  old 
man.     "Is  it  a  favorite  book  with   you,  sir?"     "Oh, 
yes,  indeed,"  he  replied,  while  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  ; 
"  it  is  all  I  have  in    this    world.     It   is    my    treasure. 
Nothing  is  left  me  in  this  world  but' this."     The  woman 
continued,  "  Yes,  he  seems  to  take  great  comfort  in  his 


THK     XII CH     I'OOIi     MAN.  241 

reading,  but  though  I  don't  think  just  as  he  does,"  said 
the  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  "  yet  it  seems  to  be  his  greatest 
comfort,  and  makes  him  very  happy,  though  he  is  so 
poorly."  "  Do  you  board  here  ?"  I  asked.  "  I  lodge 
here  when  I  can  pay  a  shilling  a  night,  and  that  dear, 
good  woman,"  pointing  to  the  hostess,  "gives  me 
nearly  all  I  need  to  eat."  "  Indeed,  ma'am,"  said  the 
woman,  "  I  think  it  is  a  pity  for  such  an  old  man  to  be 
without  a  home,  poor  creature ;  and  I  tells  him  to  be 
aisy,  for  my  boarders  all  love  him, — the  creature,  he  is 
so  harmless."  "  But  the  Lord  opens  my  way  all  the 
time,"  said  this  aged  saint,  "I  have  been  down  the 
street  a  ways,  to  hear  Mr.  Luckey,  the  Missionary,  preach, 
and  I  like  him  much  ;  and  he  is  good  to  me.  And  a 
lady  has  given  me  some  money ;  see  here,"  showing 
twenty-five  cents,  "  this  is  all  I  need,  and  this  has  she 
done  three  times.  The  Lord  reward  her."  Fearing  I 
was  intruding  upon  their  dining  hour,  (for  the  food  seem- 
ed already  to  be  served  from  the  stove,)  I  was  about 
taking  my  leave,  but  the  woman  bade  me  stay,  and  I  was 
glad  of  the  opportunity ;  as  it  enabled  me  to  gather  a  Httle 
of  the  old  man's  history.  He  said,  "  I  have  served 
God  from  my  youth.  I  can  scarcely  recollect  when  I 
did  not  love  him,  ^d  he  has  never  left  me  nor  forsaken 

me.     Poor   health,    and  a  broken    fortune  in  Ireland, 

11 


242  THE     RICH     POOR     MAX. 

induced  me,  at  the  request  of  friends,  to  come 
to  this  country  in  search  of  a  son,  who  had  left  Ireland 
a  number  of  years  before,  and,  though  I  failed  con- 
tinually in  health,  and  thougli  I  have  not  succeeded  in 
findino-  my  son,  yet  God  has  not  left  me  one  moment. 
My  feet  were  led  to  this  neighborhood ;  and  subse- 
quently my  ear  caught  the  sound  of  singing  at  the 
Mission  room,  and  surely  God's  hand  was  in  this  direc- 
tion. I  am  rich.  I  do  not  heed  these  poor  wants  of  the 
body,  for  I  am  always  supplied.  I  have  need  of  noth- 
ing." "  Oh,  the  thankful  creature  !"  interrupted  the  Irish 
woman.  "  Yes,  ma'am,  I  have  need  of  nothing ;  for  the 
Lord  is  with  me.  He  is  my  comj)anion  by  day  and 
night.  The  streams  of  mercy  and  salvation  are  al- 
ways full."  My  heart  swelled  with  emotion  ;  tears  flow- 
ed from  my  eyes,  as  I  looked  upon  this  humble,  patient, 
expectant  heir  of  salvation.  I  said,  as  I  left,  "  Oh,  the 
riches  of  God's  grace  ;  this  is  the  strongest  proof  of 
abiding,  lively  faith  I  have  ever  witnessed."  We  visit- 
ed him  often,  and  in  the  Missionary  he  found  a  good 
friend  who  assisted  in  supplying  his  temporal  wants. 
He  began  to  fail  more  rapidly,  and  it  was  thought  ad- 
visable to  remove  him  to  a  room  in  the  "  Old  Brewery," 
where  he  would  have  more  quiet,  andf  where  a  person 
could  be  in  attendance  upon  him.     The   Missionary 


THE     RICH     POOR     MAX.  243 

had     a    little    room    partitioued    off     from    a    large 
apartment    for    old    "Father  Best,"    as    we   used    to 
call    him  ;    and    the    wardrobe    supplied    comfortable 
pillows  and  blankets.     And  when    the   aged  saint  was 
put  in  his  quiet  room,  such  a  strain  of  thanksgiving  as 
ascended  thence,  was   never  heard  before  in   the  Old 
Brewery.     There^  where  a  few  months  before,  nothing 
met  the  ear  but  the  most  awful  curses  and  blasphemies, 
where    none    but    thieves    and    assassins    frequented, 
there  lay  an  heir  of  God,  a  joint  heir  of  the  Redeemer 
of  the  world,  from   whom  the  high  praises  of  his   God 
were  continually  ascending.     His  gratitude   was  most 
touching.     "  It  is  more  than  I  deserve.     I  do  not  wish 
any  thing  more.     It  is  more  than  my  Master  had  ;  less 
will  answer  me.     You  give  me  pain  by  the  trouble  you 
take,"  were  the  replies,  continually  given  to  our  desires 
to  help  him.     The    strong  faith    and  confidence  that 
had  supported  him  through  many  years  of  privation 
and  suffering  were  eminently  triumphant  now.     To  our 
enquiries  as  to  his  spiritual  enjoyment  as  he   declined, 
he  would  answer,  "  God  is  good  ;  he  is  sweetly  near. 
Soon,  I  shall  dwell  with  him  forevermore."     The  Bible 
seemed  all  his  own.     He  had  been  so  constant  a  reader 
of  its  truths,  that  he   seemed  to  know  every  promise 
it  contained,  and  rested  on  them  most  unwaveringly, 


244  THE     RICH     POOR     MAN. 

and  as  he  had  been  taught  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  to 
appropriate  them  to  himself.  "  I  am  nothing,"  said  he 
to  me,  during  the  last  conversation  I  had  with  him, 
"  but  Christ  is  my  rock — he  is  my  all  and  in  all." 

On  the  Thursday  preceding  his  death,  he  seemed  so 
far  spent  that  his  friends  thought  he  was  dying,  and 
we  surrounded  his  bed  side.  "  Father  Best,  you  are 
about  to  leave  us."  "  No  !  I  shall  be  here  a  few  days 
longer.  If  I  have  a  wish,  it  is  that  I  may  enter  the 
house  of  my  rest  on  Sabbath  morning,  the  morning  of 
my  Redeemer's  resurrection." 

That  wish  was  gratified.  A  few  days  passed  on,  and 
in  the  midnight  stillness  which  preceded  the  Sabbath's 
dawn,  were  heard  from  that  rudely  constructed  room, 
the  exclamations,  "  Almost  gone !" — "  Glory  be  to  God  !" 
"The  promises  are  yea  and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus."  "My 
Redeemer,  my  everlasting  portion."  Gradually  he  sunk, 
but  the  lamp  of  life  continued  to  flicker  until  six  of 
the  clock  proclaimed  it  to  be  indeed  the  day  on  which 
the  Saviour  burst  the  bars  of  death  ;  then  exclaiming 
while  the  light  of  heaven  rested  on  his  countenance, 
"I  knew  I  should  enter  into  rest  on  the  Lord's  day," 
his  triumphant  spirit  passed  the  portals  of  the  skies. 
A  neat  coflSn  was  provided,  and  a  grave   secured  in 


THE     RICH     POOR     MAN.  245 

Greenwood,  where  liis   earthly   remains  were   left   to 
repose  until  summoned  by  the  archangel's  trump. 

During  his  illness  he  had  expressed  much  solicitude 
respecting  that  part  of  his  family  whom  he  had  left 
in  Ireland,  with  the  expectation  that  they  would  soon 
follow  him  to  this  country.  When  it  became  evident 
that  he  was  sinking,  and  that  they  would  no  more 
meet  on  earth,  he  expressed  a  strong  desire  that  some 
of  the  friends  would  write  to  them,  and  tell  them  that 
the  promises  of  God  had  all  been  verified  in  his  experi- 
ence, and  that  now  when  every  earthly  support  was 
failing,  the  rock  on  which  he  had  built  his  hopes  for 
eternity,  stood  firm  beneath  him ;  and  that  although 
they  would  never  meet  again  on  earth,  he  confidently 
expected  to  meet  them  all  in  heaven.  After  his  decease, 
that  letter  was  written  to  his  wife  in  Ireland,  and  very 
soon  an  answer  was  returned  by  his  widow,  expressing 
the  warmest  thanks  for  the  kindness  which  had  been 
shown  to  her  suflfering  husband,  and  praying  that  hea- 
ven's richest  blessings  might  rest  on  those  who  had 
thus  administered  comfort  to  the  dead,  and  to  the 
living. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE     LAST     OF     THE     B  L  E  N  N  E  R  H  A  S  S  E  T  T  S  . 

The  vicissitudes  of  fortune  is  a  subject  of  trite  and 
common  remark.  In  every  rank  of  life,  through  all 
the  grades  of  human  society,  the  changing  wheel  of 
fortune  is  elevating  and  depressing  families  and  indivi- 
duals ;  and  no  prophetic  eye  can  read  the  destiny 
of  the  man,  as  it  gazes  upon  the  unconscious  infant, 
slumbering  in  the  cradle.  The  insignia  of  wealth  may 
be  stamped  upon  everything  which  greets  that  infant's 
waking,  wondering  glance — tones  of  love  may  wake 
its  young  affections,  and  cherish  them  into  strong 
and  happy  life  ;  parental  care  may  multiply  its  fostering 
influences,  and  centre  all  its  ambition  in  schemes  for 
the  elevation  and  aggrandizernent  of  that  darling  child, 
and  yet — and  yet 

"  A  whirlwind  from  the  desert  comes,  and  sweeps  them  in  the  iuat }" 

And  many  a  cherished  one  of  earvh  lives  to 
encounter  its  fiercest  tempests,  to  feel  its  keenest 
pangs,  and  to  prove  "  how  much  the  human  heart  cau 


THE  LAST  OF  THK  BLEN^VERHASSETTS.     247 

bear,"  ere  it  breaks,  and  bleeds,  and  dies.    We  may  rend 
and  hear  and  believe,  but  we  do  not  realize  the  force  of 
facts  like  these,  until  they  are  actually  brought  within 
the  sphere  of  our  own  vision  ;  and  then,  in  our  new  and 
powerful  interest,  we  forget  our  past  experience,  and  an 
almost  irresistible  influence  impels  us  to  narrate  the  story 
to  others,  in  the  hope  of  awakening  a  sympathetic 
feeling,  and  perhaps,  receiving  their  practical  aid.     This 
is  our  apology  for  the  following  narrative,  which  is  not 
as  relevant  to   our  Mission  work    proper,  as  are  the 
former  histories  related  in  this  little  book ;   and  yet  it 
was  in  the  prosecution  of  our  Mission  work,  that  this 
sad  history  was  brought  before  our  minds,  and  it  was 
within  the  range  of  our  Mission  walks  that  the  subject 
of  our  sketch  was  first  found,  and  in  the  prosecution  of 
its  regular  duties  was  he  again  providentially   thrown 
upon  our  care. 

Who  has  not  heard  or  read  of  Blennerhassett,  so 
famous  in  his  connection  with  Aaron  Burr,  fifty  years 
ao-o  ?  Who  has  not  dwelt  with  pleasure,  on  the  picture, 
drawn  by  the  eloquent  pen  of  the  celebrated  Wirt,  of 
the  Eden,  in  the  Ohio  river,  ere  the  tem.pter  entered  to 
beiray  and  to  destroy  ?  And  who  has  not  burned  with 
indignation  or  melted  with  sorrow,  over  the  fearful  deso- 
lation which  swept  that  happy  home,  when  the  sad 


248  THE     LAST     OF     THE     BLENNERHASSETTS. 

alliance  with  Aaron  Burr  was  consummated,  and  tho 
full  result  of  treachery  was  felt  by  its  innocent  and 
unsuspecting   inhabitants. 

While  all  was  bright  and  blooming  in  that  happy 
isle,  ere  "  coming  events  had  cast  their  shadows  before," 
to  awaken  the  slightest  apprehension,  a  prond  father  and 
a  happy  mother  bent  rejoicing  over  the  couch  of  an 
infant  boy  who  seemed  destined  to  enjoy  all  that  earth 
could  promise  of  luxury  and  ease.  Fond  hopes  and 
joyous  anticipations  were  indulged,  and  through  a  bright 
vista  of  happy  childhood,  promising  youth,  and  suc- 
cessful manhood,  they  saw  in  imagination  all  that  the 
fondest  parental  hearts  could  picture  or  desire. 

Alas  for  the  reality  !  That  boy  is  the  subject  of 
our  simple  narmtive — and  for  the  benefit  of  our  youth- 
ful readers  who  may  not  be  familiar  with  the  previous 
history  of  this  celebrated  family,  we  subjoin  a  sketch, 
ere  we  proceed  with  the  facts,  which  have  been  so 
strangely  brought  before  our  notice. 

"  Harraan  Blennerhassett,  the  father  of  the  subject 
of  our  narrative,  was  the  son  of  an  Irish  gentleman, 
but  born  in  England  during  a  temporary  visit  of  his 
parents.  If  not  of  the  Irish  nobility  they  were  at  least 
of  the  superior  gentry  of  their  native  land ;  and  theif 
son,  educated    at   Westminster    and    Trinity   College, 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  BLENNERHASSETTS.     249 

graduated  with  honor,  and  entered  upon  tlie  study  of 
the  Law  at  King's  Inn — how  successfully,  is  shown 
by  the  significant  appendage  of  L.  L.  D.  which  occa- 
sionally accompanies  his  name.  An  Irishman,  and  an 
Irishman  living  during  the  excitement  of  the  French 
Revolution,  Blennerhassett  could  not  but  feel  deeply  the 
depressed  state  of  his  country,  yet  preferring  the  paths 
of  literature,  and  the  quiet  of  domestic  life,  to  the 
turmoil  of  the  political  arena,  he  soon  after  his  marriage 
with  Miss  Agnew  (daughter  of  the  Lieutenant  Gover- 
nor of  the  Isle-of-Man,  and  grand-daughter  of  the  cele- 
brated general  of  that  name,  who  fell  at  the  battle  of 
Germantown,)  left  Europe  for  New  York  in  1'797, 
determined  to  make  this  country  the  land  of  his  adop- 
tion. After  some  inquiry,  he  purchased  a  beautiful 
island  on  the  Ohio  river,  and  there  built  a  residence, 
in  whose  construction,  economy  and  simplicity  were 
unthought  of.  "  The  sum  of  sixty  thousand  dollars,  it 
is  said,  was  expended  by  Blennerhassett,  in  fully  estab- 
lishing himself  in  his  new  abode.  To  the  mind  of  the 
voyager  descending  the  river,  as  the  edifice  rose  ma- 
jestically in  the  distance,  spreading  its  wings  to  either 
shore,  the  efifect  was  magical ;  and  emotions  were 
produced,  not  unlike  those  experienced  in  gazing  on 

the  Moorish  palaces  of  Andalusia.     Theie  was  a  spell 

11* 


250  THE     LAST     OF     THE      BLEXXERHASSETTS. 

of  encliantment  around  it,  whioli  -would  fain  induce 
the  credulous  to  believe  that  it  had  been  created  by- 
magic,  and  consecrated  to  the  gods.  On  a  nearer 
approach  -was  observed  the  beautifully  graded  lawu, 
decked  with  tasteful  shrubbery,  and  interspersed  with 
showy  flowers ;  while  a  little  in  the  distance  the  elm 
threw  its  dark  branches  over  a  carpet  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful greensward.  Beyond  these,  the  forest  trees  were 
intermingled  with  copse- wood,  so  closely  as  to  exclude 
_the  noon-day  sun  ;  and  in  other  places  they  formed 
those  long  sweeping  vistas,  in  the  intricacies  of  which 
the  eye  delights  to  lose  itself;  while  the  imagination 
conceives  them  as  the  paths  of  wilder  scenes  of  sylvan 
solitude.  The  space  immediately  in  the  rear  of  the 
dwelling  was  assigned  to  fruits  and  flowers,  of  which 
the  varieties  were  rare,  excellent  and  beautiful  ;  and 
the  manner  in  which  they  were  disposed  over  the 
surface,  unique,  elegant  and  tasteful.  Espaliers  of 
peach,  apricot,  quince  and  pear  trees,  extended  along 
the  exterior,  confined  to  a  picket  fence  ;  while,  in  the 
middle  space,  wound  labyrinthine  walks,  skirted  with 
flowering  shrubs,  and  the  eglantine  and  honey-suckle 
flung  their  melliferous  blossoms  over  bowers  of  various 
forms.  On  the  south  was  the  vegetable  garden  ;  and, 
adjoining   this,   a    thrifty    young    orchard,    embracing" 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  BLEXXEUHASSETTS,     251 

many  varieties  of  fruit,  promising  abundant  supplies  for 
future  use,  not  entirely  nesrlectinof  the  useful  for  the 
ornamental.  Blennerhassett  had  cleared  a  hundred 
acres  below,  and  cultivated,  in  great  perfection,  the 
various  crops  adapted  to  the  soil.  The  hall  was  a 
spacious  room — its  walls  painted  a  sombre  color, 
with  a  beautiful  cornice  of  plaster,  bordered  with 
gilded  moulding,  running  around  the  lofty  ceiling, 
while  its  furniture  was  rich,  heavy  and  grand.  The 
furniture  in  the  drawing-room  was  in  strong  contrast 
with  that  of  the  hall — light,  airy  and  olegant ;  with 
splendid  mirrors,  gay-colored  carpets,  classic  pictures, 
rich  curtains,  and  ornaments  to  correspond,  arranged 
by  Mrs.  Blennerhassett,  with  nicest  taste  and  harmoni- 
ous effect.  A  large  quantity  of  silver- plate  ornament- 
ed the  side-boards  and  decorated  the  tables.  The 
whole  establishment  was  chastened  by  the  purest  taste, 
and  without  that  glare  of  tinsel  finery,  too  common 
among  the  wealthy." 

This  sounds  like  a  fancy  sketch,  does  it  not,  dear 
reader  ?  Yet  this  Eden  of  beauty  once  existed,  and 
.here  resided  the  parents  of  him  whom  we  will  soon 
introduce  to  you  in  scenes  of  startling  contrast.  In 
this  favored  spot  the  days  of  his  infancy  and  childhood 
were  spent ;   and  here  amid  scenes  of  such  unrivalled 


252  THE     LA8T     OF     THE     BLENNERHASSfiTTS. 

beauty,  the  ai-tist-spirit  awoke  to  life,  and  expanded, 
and  received  sucli  strength,  iluit  all  the  miseries  of  his 
mature  years  have  failed  to  extinguish,  or  even  to 
weaken  it. 

It  would  be  unnecessary,  in  a  sketch  like  this,  to  enter 
into  the  controverted  points  relating  to  the  celebrated 
conspiracy  of  Aaron  Burr.  After  his  unsuccessful 
nomination  for  the  Presidency  of  the.  United  States, 
disappointed  in  his  hopes  of  political  preferment,  deeply 
chagrined  by  the  more  peaceful  measures  of  Jefferson, 
and  probably  wryng  v/ith  remorse  for  the  death  oi 
Hamilton,  he  determined  to  enter  into  schemes  of  con- 
flict and  aggrandizement  so  extensive,  as  would  almost 
blot  from  his  mind  the  memory  of  the  past,  and  trans- 
mit his  name  to  the  future  as  a  conqueror,  the  compeer 
of  Pizarro,  or  as  Charlemagne,  the  founder  of  a  Western 
Empire.  Whether  treason  to  the  United  States  was 
meditated,  we  will  not  now  inquire  ;  but  in  the  prosecu- 
tion of  his  design,  it  became  necessary  to  secure  the 
eo-operation  of  the  most  influential  men  of  the  West,  and 
Blennerhassett  was  too  conspicuous  to  be  overlooked. 
On  Burr's  first  visit  to  the  Island,  Blennerhassett  was 
absent,  having  gone  to  New- York,  to  meet  and  welcome 
to  America,  his  former  playmate  and  friend,  the  celebrat- 
ed  Emmet.     But  a  second  visit  was  more  successful, 


THE     LAST     OF     THE     BLEXNERHASSETTS.  253 

and  as  this  interview  has  been  eloquently  alluded  to  by 
the  distinguished  William  Wirt,  we  give  it  as  descriptive 
of  the  domestic  situation  of  Bleunerhassett,  ere  he  was 
betrayed  into  those  schemes  which  subsequently  proved 
his  ruin.  "  A  shrubbery  which  Shenstone  might 
have  envied  blooms  around  him  ;  music  which  might 
have  charmed  Calypso  and  her  nymphs,  is  his.  An  ex- 
tensive library  spreads  its  treasures  before  him ;  a  philoso- 
phical apparatus  offers  to  him  all  the  mysteries  and 
secrets  of  nature.  Peace,  tranquility,  and  innocence  shed 
their  mingled  delights  around  him  ;  and,  to  crown  the 
enchantment  of  the  scene,  a  wife  who  is  said  to  be 
lovely,  even  beyond  her  sex,  has  blessed  him  with  her 
love,  and  made  him  the  father  of  her  children.  In  the 
midst  of  all  this  peace,  this  innocence,  this  tranquility, 
the  destroyer  comes ;  he  comes  to  turn  this  paradise 
into  a  hell,  yet,  the  flowers  do  not  wither  at  his  approach, 
and  no  -  monitory  shuddering  through  the  bosom  of 
their  unfortunate  possessor,  warns  him  of  the  ruin  that 
is  coming  upon  him.  A  stranger  presents  himself. 
Introduced  to  their  civilities  by  the  high  rank  he  has 
lately  held  in  his  country,  he  soon  finds  way  to  their 
hearts  by  the  dignity  and  elegance  of  his  demeanor ; 
the  light  and  beauty  of  his  conversation,  and  the 
seductive  and  fascinating   power  of  his  address.     The 


254     THE  LAST  OF  THK  BLENNERHASSETTS. 

conquest  was  not  a  difficult  one.     Innocence  is  evei 

simple  and  credulous . 

"Such  was  the  state  of  Eden,  when  the  serpent  enter- 
ed its  bowers.  The  poisoner,  (Burr)  in  a  more  engag- 
ing form,  winding  himself  into  the  open  and  unprac- 
tised heart  of  Blennerhassett,  found  but  little  difficulty 
in  changing  the  native  character  of  that  heart,  and 
the  objects  of  its  affections.  By  degrees,  he  infuses  in- 
to it  the  poison  of  his  own  ambition ;  he  breathes  into 
it  the  fire  of  his  own  courage  ;  a  daring  and  desperate 
taste  for  glory ;  an  ardor  panting  for  all  the  storms, 
and  bustles,  and  hurricanes  of  life.  In  a  short  time,  the 
whole  man  is  changed,  and  every  object  of  his  former 
delight  relinquished.  Greater  objects  have  taken  pos- 
session of  his  soul.  His  imagination  has  been  dazzled 
by  visions  of  diadems,  and  stars,  and  garters,  and  ti- 
tles of  nobility.  He  has  been  taught  to  burn  with 
restless  emulation  at  the  names  of  Caesar,  Cromwell, 
and  Bonaparte."  Into  Burr's  ambitious  plans,  Blenner- 
hassett freely  entered,  and  soon  they  were  matured  and 
ready  for  execution.  The  result  of  Burr's  expedition 
is  matter  of  history.  Rumors,  which  not  only  connect- 
ed him  with  warlike  designs  against  a  nation  with 
whom  we  were  at  peace,  but  which  dared  to  affix  trea- 
son to  his  name,  were  rife  in  the  land  ;  and  by  orders 


THE     LAST     OF     THE     BLENNERHA68ETTS.  255 

from  Washington,  he  was  arrested,  and  carried  there 
to  stand  his  trial  for  the  crime  alleged.  He  was  ac- 
quitted, but  his  country  refused  to  believe  liim  to  be  in- 
nocent, and  after  an  unsuccessful  struggle  to  retrieve  his 
fallen  name,  he  retired  from  political  life,  and  died  un- 
honored  and  unsung.  Blennerhassett,  as  an  accomplice 
of  Burr,  was  also  arrested  and  carried  to  Richmond, 
and  there  confined  in  the  gloomy  walls  of  a  prison  for 
some  time  ;  but  as  Burr  was  discharged  on  the  indict- 
ment against  him,  those  against  Blennerhassett  were 
not  prosecuted.  He  was  merely  required  to  enter  into 
bonds  to  appear  upon  requirement  at  Chillicothe  to 
answer  to  a  charge  of  misdemeanor,  for  preparing  an 
armed  force,  whose  destiny  was  the  Spanish  territory, 
of  which,  however,  no  notice  was  ever  taken. 

Thus  ended  the  conspiracy  of  Burr.  But,  alas !  not 
so  ended  the  misfortunes  of  Blennerhassett.  His  pecu- 
niary afiairs  had  become  embarrassed.  His  beautiful 
mansion  had  been  regarded  and  used  as  public  proper- 
ty. Almost  bankrupt  in  purse,  and  with  a  family  de- 
pendent on  him,  he  knew  not  where  to  look  for  help  in 
his  fallen  estate.  He  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  on 
a  cotton  plantation  in  Mississippi ;  but  ten  years  passed 
slowly  away,  and  the  prospect  of  regaining  a  fortune 
became  less  and  less  flattering.     A  temporary  hope  led 


256  THE     LAST     OF    THE     BLENNERHASSETTS. 

him  to  dispose  of  his  plantation,  and  remove  to  Can* 
.*ida.  But,  alas  !  the  hope  allured  only  to  destroy. 
Leaving  Canada,  he  returned  to  Ireland  in  1822,  there 
to  prosecute  a  reversionary  claim,  which,  in  his  more 
prosperous  days,  he  had  regarded  with  indifference.  All 
his  efforts  were  unsuccessful,  and  finally,  he  sunk  to  his 
last  repose,  in  the  island  of  Guernsey,  attended  by 
the  faithful  wife  who  had  shared  his  every  joy,  and  so- 
laced (so  far  as  devoted  affection  could  do)  his  every 
sorrow.  After  his  death,  the  heart  of  that  stricken 
one  yearned  to  embrace  her  child,  and  she  returned  to 
New  York,  and  with  a  devoted  slave,  and  an  affec- 
tionate son,  strove  once  again  to  create  an  atmosphere 
of  love  in  a  quiet,  though  humble  home. 

For  a  few  years  they  struggled  on ;  but  who  can 
portray  the  sufferings  of  that  lovely  and  accomplished 
woman,  as  visions  of  the  past  rose  before  her  mind  ? 
The  lovely  mansion,  the  devoted  husband,  the  playful, 
happy  children,  the  troops  of  servants,  the  crowd  of 
friends,  all,  all  would  pass  in  sad  review,  making  the 
dark  present  still  darker  by  the  contrast ;  while,  as  she 
gazed  upon  her  feeble,  suffering  son,  unfitted  by  his 
long  privation  for  those  arduous  struggles  by  which 
alone  he  could  have  regained  his  father's  lost  property, 
and  thus  been  reinstated  in  his  former  position  in  soci- 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  BLENXERHASSETTS.     257 

ety,  the  future  must  have  seemed  shrouded  in  more 
than  midnight  darkness.  Sad  forebodings  filled  that 
mother's  heart,  and  planted  their  thorn  in  her  dyino- 
pillow.  The  saddest  have  all  been  realized  by  that 
idolized  son,  who  cannot  even  now  refer  to  that  tender 
parent,  without  exhibiting  the  most  intense  emotion, 
which  causes  his  delicate  frame  to  shake  as  though  the 
fiercest  ague  were  expending  its  power  upon  his  physi- 
cal system. 

We  shall  give  but  a  simple  outline  of  the  dark  pic- 
ture which  has  been  strangely  and  nnexpectedly 
brought  before  our  vision,  and  leave  our  readers  to 
realize  the  contrast  and  deduce  the  moral. 

One  morning,  Mr.  E.,  one  of  the  visitors  of  the  Mis- 
sion, invited  a  lady  to  accompany  him  on  a  visit  to  a 
most  interesting  old  gentleman,  whom  he  had  found  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  Mission.  She  immediately  compli- 
ed, and  on  the  way,  was  informed  that  his  name  was 
Blennerhassett. 

They  entered  a  forlorn  and  comfortless  room,  and 
found  an  interesting  looking  man,  delicate  and  refined 
in  appearance,  even  amid  the  utter  poverty  which  sur- 
rounded him ;  and  whose  manner  and  language  gave 
unequivocal  evidence  that  he  belonged  to  a  difterent  po- 
sition in  society  from  that  which  he  then  occupied.  He 


258     THE  LAST  OF  THE  BLENNERH  A.SSETTS. 

was  attended  by  a  colored  woman,  whose  every  look 
and  act  betokened  tbe  most  entire  and  devoted  attach- 
ment to  her  master.  Yet,  no  familiarity  of  word  or 
manner  intimated  that  she  had  ever  forgotten  the  rela- 
tive position  which,  from  his  birth,  she  had  maintained 
towards  him. 

He  received  his  visitors  cordially,  but  with  consider- 
able emotion.  He  referred  to  his  past  history  and  his 
present  circumstances ;  and  he  and  the  old  colored  wo* 
man  wept  together,  as  past  scenes  of  happiness  and  of 
misery  were  described.  He  referred  with  much  bitter- 
ness to  those  who  had  crowded  around  his  father  in  the 
days  of  his  wealth  and  prosperity,  and  who  could  for- 
get his  son  amid  adversity  and  sorrow. 

"  Do  you  see  that  black  woman  ?"  he  exclaimed,  as 
she  was  about  leaving  the  room,  "  she  has  more  heart 
than  all  the  people  I  have  known.  She  has  clung  to 
me  amid  all  my  poverty  and  sorrow,  without  the  slight- 
est prospect  of  remuneration  or  reward.  My  father 
was  the  friend  of  hundreds.  He  set  up  merchants  and 
mechanics,  he  patronized  literature  and  the  arts,  he 
was  courted  and  flattered  in  his  days  of  prosperity, 
and  when  splendid  fetes  were  given  to  Aaron  Burr 
and  Blennerhassett,  there  were  enough  found  to  do  him 
homage.     But  when  the  storm  burst  upon  his  devoted 


THE     LAST     OF     THli:     BLENNEUHASSETl'S.  25G 

head,  how  few  were  found  to  rally  around  him,  or  to 
befriend  his  innocent  and  suffering  ftxraily  !  I  am  poor. 
I  cannot  work.  I  am  too  infirm  ;  and  this  old  woman 
(turning  again  to  his  devoted  servant)  has  done  for  rae 
what  all  the  rest  of  the  world  have  failed  to  do — given 
me  a  quiet  home,  and  a  grateful  heart."  Yet,  as  he 
spoke,  the  look  of  interest  was  succeeded  by  one  of  sad 
and  mournful  import. 

The  visitors  relieved  his  pressing  wants,  spoke  kindly 
to  his  attached  servant,  and  left  to  meet  the  other 
claims  which  were  pressing  them  on  every  side. 

Months  rolled  away,  and  the  old  man  removed  his 
residence  far  beyond  the  lady's  walks.  But  he  was  not 
forgotten  ;  and  again  and  again  he  was  referred  to  with 
interest,  and  commented  on  as  one  of  the  saddest  in- 
stances of  the  reverses  of  human  fortune.  A  record  of 
this  visit  was  preserved,  when  again  in  the  most  inci- 
dental manner,  his  residence  was  discovered.  Two  of 
the  ladies  immediately  called.  It  was  a  decent-looking 
house,  but  the  hall  and  stairs  proved  that  it  was  only 
a  tenement  house,  and  with  sad  forebodings,  we  ascend- 
ed to  the  upper  story.  We  knocked  at  the  door,  and  a  . 
faint  voice  said,  "Come  in."  We  entered.  One  glance 
at  the  desolate-looking  room,  uncarpeted  and  un warm- 
ed, at  the  miserable  bed,  without  a  pillow  or  proper  cov- 


260  THE     LAST     OF     THE     BLENKERHASSETTS. 

ering.  One  glance  at  the  pallid  face  and  shaking  form 
of  its  invalid  occupant,  and  we  sat  down,  (accustomed 
as  we  were  to  scenes  of  misery)  almost  powerless  tc 
act  or  speak.  Such  a  tale  of  want  and  woe,  of 
physical  and  mental  suffering,  was  revealed ;  such 
loneliness  and  seeming  neglect ;  such  a  contrast  with 
what  we  knew  of  the  early  years  and  prospects  of  the 
unfortunate  man,  that  the  heart  would  swell,  and  the 
tears  would  flow,  though  the  trembling  invalid  had 
raised  himself  upon  his  arm  nervously,  yet  politely, 
enquiring  who  we  were,  and  what  we  wanted. 

"  We  are  friends,"  said  Mrs.  D ,  advancing  to- 
wards the  cot,  "  and  we  have  called  to  see  if  we  could 
not  aid  you ;  if  we  could  not  do  something  to  make 
you  more  comfortable."  He  gazed  at  her  earnestly, 
and  said,  "  I  know  your  countenance.  Who  are  you  ?" 
She  mentioned  her  name,  recalled  the  past  to  his  mind, 
and  then  gradually  led  him  to  the  recital  of  his  own 
woes  and  wants. 

Many  questions  were  asked  and  answered,  and  much 
information  elicited ,  but  in  a  broken  and  sometimes 
incoherent  manner  on  his  part :  and  we  could  not  de- 
scribe the  interview  and  give  it  the  interest  it  possessed 
for  those  who  saw  and  listened  to  the  mournful  tale  in  that 
cold  and  dreary    room.      We  promised  him  permanent 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  BLENNERHASSETTS.     261 

relief,  and  assured  him  that  so  far  as  our  means 
and  our  influence  could  prevail,  he  should  never  again 
know  the  destitution  from  which  he  had  so  deeply  suf- 
fered. We  told  him  God  had  sent  us,  and  we  hoped  to 
benefit  his  soul  and  body.  We  left,  and  immediately 
sent  him  suflScient  bedding  and  clothing  to  make  him 
perfectly  comfortable.  In  a  subsequent  interview, 
many  facts  were  related.  For  though  weak  in  body, 
and  occasionally  confused  in  expression,  his  memory 
seemed  unimpaired,  and  he  gave  a  continuous  account 
of  his  past  life.  To  our  utter  surprise,  we  found  he 
was  but  fifty  years  of  age,  though  we  had  judged  hint 
much  older  from  his  appearance. 

We  sketch  his  history  as  narrated  by  himself.  "  1 
was  the  second  son  of  Harman  Blennerhassett,  bearing 
my  father's  name  ;  and  was  born  on  the  Island  in  the 
days  of  my  father's  greatest  prosperity.  My  infancy 
and  childhood  were  guarded  by  the  love  of  a  most  de- 
voted mother,  and  my  education  during  my  youth  was 
mostly  superintended  by  my  father  at  home.  I  after- 
wards went  to  school  in  Canada,  and  finished  my  edu- 
cation. Then  having  a  predilection  for  the  law,  I  en- 
tered the  office  of  David  Codwise,  in  IS^ew  York,  and 
studied  three  years  for  that  profession.  Not  being 
particularly  successful,  I  found  my  early  taste  for  paint- 


262  THE     LAST     Oh-     THE     BLENNERHASSETTS. 

ing,  reviving  in  all  its  strength,  and  resolved  to  yield  to 
the  visions  which  were  forever  floating  through  my 
brain,  banishing  all  legal  details,  and  unfitting  me 
for  the  prosecution  of  that  arduous  profession.  I  placed 
myself  under  the  instruction  of  Henry  Inman,  and 
soon  became  a  proficient  in  the  art,  and  supported  my- 
self comfortably  by  ray  labors.  During  this  time,  my 
parents  were  in  Canada  and  Europe.  But  in  1831, 
my  father  died,  and  my  mother  returned  to  this  coun- 
try. We  took  a  house  in  Greenwich  street,  (that  col- 
ored woman  accompanied  her)  and  although  straitened 
in  our  means,  did  not  suffer  from  actual  poverty.  My 
mother's  health  and  heart  were  broken,  and  she  rapidly 
declined.  Watched  by  that  faithful  servant  and  my- 
self, she  sank  peacefully  away,  and  was  interred  in 
Robert  Emmet's  vault,  by  a  few  faithful  and  sympathiz- 
ino-  friends.  It  is  false,"  he  exclaimed,  with  the  ut- 
most  indignation,  "  it  is  false,  that  her  last  days  were 
spent  with  an  Irish  nurse.  It  is  false,  that  sisters  of  . 
charity  followed  her  to  the  grave.  She  was  a  member 
of  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  was  buried  according  to 
their  form,  in  Mr.  Emmet's  vault ;  and  the  man  who 
wrote  that  life,  knows  nothing  of  my  father's  history. 
For  all  the  authentic  documents  are  in  that  trunk," 
pointing  with  his  finger,  "  and  I  only  can  supply  them. 


THE     LITTLE     ITALIAN     BOY.  263 

I  aided  Wallace  to  write  his  sketch.  I  lent  the  papers 
to  Matthew  L.  Davis,  when  he  wrote  the  life  of  Aaron 
Burr,  and  I  alone  can  give  the  proper  information  for 
my  father's  biography.  Why  did  they  not  apply  to 
ine  ? 

"After  my  mother's  death,  I  moved  to  street, 

where  you  first  found  me ;  and  since  then,  I  have  lived 
here.  An  old  friend  pays  my  rent,  and  a  kind  Irish  wo- 
man assists  me  in  my  room,  &c. ;  but  I  am  feeble  and 
suifering.  I  am  dreading  paralysis,  and,  ladies,  I  need 
attention,  and  such  as  you  only  can  give."  And  as  he 
spoke,  his  frame  shook  with  a  strong  nervous  agitation, 
and  he  turned  imploringly  from  one  to  the  other,  and 
was  only  soothed  by  the  promise  that  they  would  do 
what  they  could  to  make  his  declining  years  comforta- 
ble and  happy.  May  there  be  "  light  in  the  evening 
time  1" 


€^t  litth  StaliaB  13n^ 

Giovanni  C.  was  a  little  street  beggar,  with  ragged 
clothes,  unwashed  face,  and  long  tangled  hair ;  oaths 
were  the  only  English  words  he  knew,  and  the  only 


264  THE     LITTLE     ITALIAN     BOY. 

change  from  his  clingy  miserable  home,  was  to  the  debas- 
ing scenes  and  polluting  influences  of  the  Five  Points* 
The  entrance  to  his  home,  which  is  near  "  Farlow's 
Court,"  is  through  a  covered  alley,  leading  into  an 
area  which  gives  access  to  the  upper  stories  of  several 
houses,  up  the  old  wooden  stairs,  through  the  low  dark 
hall,  to  the  front  room,  into  which,  however,  we  can 
only  advance  for  a  few  steps.  A  cradle  is  the  first  thing 
we  stumble  against,  then  comes  the  stove,  a  high 
bedstead  on  one  side,  and  a  table  on  the  other,  while 
in  the  corner,  on  a  chest,  stands  a  hand-organ.  Various 
articles  of  wearing  apparel,  among  which  a  pair  of 
heavy  boots  is  most  conspicuous,  are  displayed  upon 
the  blackened  walls,  while  on  a  clothes-line,  stretched 
diagonally  across  the  room,  hang  many  garments  to  dry. 
On  one  side  of  the  table  sits  the  owner  of  the  hand- 
organ,  who  speaks  a  little  French,  but  is  as  ignorant 
of  English  as  the  other  Italians  in  the  room.  On  the 
other  side  is  the  father  of  the  baby  in  the  cradle. 
These  two  men  pay  half  the  rent  of  the  room,  which 
is  four  dollars  a  mouth,  and  the  other  half  is  paid 
by  the  father  and  mother  of  Giovanni.  The  father  is 
almost  blind,  and  his  plain  features  are  slightly  scarred 
by  the  small-pox.  The  mother  has  a  fine  face,  large 
black  eyes,  olive  skin,  and   regular  features,  and  when 


THE     LITTLE     ITALIAN     BOY.  265 

young  must  have  been  handsome.  She  has  been 
disabled  in  consequence  of  a  fall,  and  she  never  leaves 
the  room.  Do  they  not  look  back  with  longing  to  the 
sunny  skies  and  lovely  views  of  Genoa  la  Superba, 
their  own  native  city  ?  True  they  were  very  poor 
there,  but  poverty  in  their  own  fair  Italia,  with  its 
mild  climate,  and  its  beauty  of  earth  and  sky,  is  far 
more  tolerable  than  life  at  the  Five  Points.  And  the 
dream  of  brighter,  better  things  than  they  had  known 
in  their  own  land,  which  played  before  their  fancy  as 
they  sought  the  shores  of  this  New  World,  must 
all  have  vanished  at  the  touch  of  the  hard  cold 
reality.  They  had  two  boys,  and  Giovanni,  the  eldest, 
leading  his  father  by  the  hand,  would  go  out  to  beg 
alms  of  the  passers-by  in  our  great  thoroughfares. 

One  day,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  the  little 
neglected  Italian.  I  had  him  washed,  his  long 
black  hair  cut,  and  having  clothed  him  comfort- 
ably, led  him  to  the  Mission-school.  He  there  im- 
proved so  rapidly  that  in  a  short  time  he  was  appoint- 
ed monitor  to  a  little  class  of  Italians,  taught  several 
evenings  in  the  week  by  the  wife  of  the  Missionary. 
He  continued  in  the  Mission-scbool  for  more  than  a 
year,  when  I  was  enabled  to  obtain  a  good  place 
for  him.      He  is   employed  in  packing   mustard,    and 

12 


266  THE     LITTLE     ITALIAN     BOT. 

he  earns  two  dollars  a  week,  by  wliich  he  is  enahlecl 
to  support  his  parents,  though  in  their  own  poor  way, 
for  cleanliness  and  order  are  as  foreign  to  their  habits, 
r.s  is  the  Enghsh  to  their  tongues,  and  total  ignorance 
of  the  language  removes  them  from  the  good  influences 
which  might  otherwise  be  thrown  around  them. 

Giovanni  is  now  fourteen  years  old  ;  he  is  their  only 
child,  for  his  little  brother  of  nine,  died  last  week ;  and 
the  blind  and  the  lame  look  to  Giovanni  for  their 
support.  I  have  engaged  his  tuition  at  an  evening 
school,  and  Giovanni  seems  disposed  to  profit  by  the 
advantages  afforded  him.  The  ragged  Italian  beg- 
gar has  been  metamorphosed  into  a  handsome  boy, 
well  dressed  in  a  suit  of  grey  clothes,  the  gift  of  his 
employer — with  soft  black  eyes,  fine  features,  a  good 
head,  and  an  expression  of  mingled  sweetness  and 
intelligence.  One  of  the  most  hopeful  graduates  of 
the  Mission-school,  he  seems  already  to  belong  to  a 
higher  class  than  his  parents,  and  may  prosper  as  well 
in  the  race  of  life  as  many  whose  opening  years  were 
crowned  with  the  choicest  earthly  gifts 


MORAL     INFLUENCES.  267 


"  Go  into  t"ae  dark  desolate  places — bring  out  in  Christ's  name,  the  for- 
gotten unwashed  sons  and  daughters  of  want  and  sin,  and  pour  into  their 
minds  the  light  of  truth.    It  is  probably  their  only  chance  for  Heaven." 

Olin. 

The  societ}^  liave  endeavored  to  unite  every  moral 
influence  in  their  plans,  respecting  these  children. 
Their  object  has  been  by  education,  by  kindness,  and 
especially  by  religious  instructions,  to  prepare  the  minds 
of  these  little  sufferers  for  the  reception  of  that  higher 
influence  which  alone  can  regenerate  and  save.  They 
have  always  remembered  that  they  were  influencing  chil- 
dren, and  have,  therefore,  accounted  innocent  recreation 
as  a  valuable  auxiliary  in  this  great  work.  We  give 
a  few  sketches  as  illustrative  of  our  meanino;. 


L 


208  PIC-NIC    OF    THE    FIVE-POINTS 


^^ir-Jir  nf  tb  fin  ^HhW  Mhmn 

""  JUNE,  1852. 

"  They  came  whence  the  pale  mechanic's  board, 

The  six  days'  toil  had  bat  scantily  stored; 

They  came  from  the  widow's  lonely  hearth, 

Whence  the  prayer  of  the  father  no  more  went  forth ; 

Some  from  the  cot,  where  no  mother's  voice 

Made  the  hearts  of  childhood  and  youth  rejoice*  > 

And  some  from  the  dwelUngs,  where  shame  and  sin, 

Desolation  and  anguish  had  entered  in.' 

In  June,  1 85  2,  our  Mission  school  was  kindly  invited 
by  the  Sabbath  school  belonging  to  Greene  street  church, 
on  an  excursion  to  the  country. 

On  Friday  morning,  June  25th,  the  sun  rose  bright 
and  clear ;  the  atmosphere  was  remarkably  cool ;  and 
at  seven  o'clock  we  hastened  to  the  Old  Brewery,  where 
we  found  the  friends  who  had  labored  in  the  prepara- 
tions, clothing  the  children ;  pinning  on  each  a  badge, 
that  we  might  know  them,  and  reiterating  much  past 
instruction  as  to  behavior,  &c.  Every  face  looked 
bright ;  the  greatest  excitement  prevailed,  and  the 
scene  was  amusing  and  interesting  to  all  beholders. 
We  formed  them  in  procession,  and    were  surprised  to 


THE  FIRST  MISSION  ROOM 


MISSION     SUNDAY     SCHOOL.  209 

find  how  respectable  we  looked.     Bpa-ring  some  bare 
feet,  we    would   scarcely    have    been    recognized    as    a 
Mission  school.     At  eight  o'clock  we  were  seated  com- 
fortably in  a  commodious   car,  and  started  at  a  rapid 
pace  for  Hastings.     We  questioned  the  children  around 
us,  whether  <liey  had  ever  been  in  a  car  before.     No  ! 
Had    they    ever    been   in  the    country  ?     No  !     What 
pleasure   there    was  before   them — what   entirely   new 
scenes  would  greet  their  vision — how  would  their  minds 
receive  enlargement  and  elevation,  when  they  gazed  upon 
the  clear  blue  sky,   and  saw  nature   in   her   glowing 
beauty  !     We  looked  beyond  the  mere  day's  pleasure, 
fully  believing  that  some  young  hearts  would  receive 
Impressions  never  to  be  erased,   and  which  would  in 
some  way  affect  their  entire  future ;    that  a  desire,   an 
ambition,  would  be  awakened  to  escape  the  precincts  of 
the  Five  Points,  its  degrading  associations,  which  in  this 
.    blessed  land  of  light  and  liberty  might  be  largely  grati- 
,  fied.     We  had  no  trouble  during  the  ride,  and  at  half- 
past  nine   arrived   at  Hastings.     We  recollected   that 
probably  two-thirds  of  the  children  had  not  yet   tasted 
food,  so  immediate  preparations  were  made  for  break- 
fast.    Mrs.  B.'s  kindness  had  provided  amply  for  all,  and 
we  expended  the  first  hour  in  supplying  the  wants  of 


270  PIC-NIC     OF     THE     FIVE-POINTS 

one  hundred  hiuig-ry  little  rebels,  who   pressed   around 
"  us  wild  with  excitement  and  joy. 

This  task  finished,  they  had  permission  to   roam,  un- 
_  der  certain  restrictions.     Away  they  went  with  a  shout, 
their  superintendent    keeping  only  a  general   supervi- 
sion over  their  movements.     After  an  hou^  or  two,   Mr. 
Perrigo,  with   a  few   who   had   gathered   around  him, 
commenced  singing  a  favorite  hymn ;  in  five  minutes 
he  was  surrounded  by  scores  ;  he  led  them   to   a  beau- 
tiful hill,  arranged  them  in  a  semicircle   on   the   grass, 
and  for  an  hour  the  grove  was   vocal   with   songs  of 
praise  to  God.     This  was  the  hour  of  deepest  gratifica- 
tion to  those  M^ho  had  the  charge  of  that  happy  group. 
Gratitude  for  the  past  and  present,  and  hope  strong  and 
believing  for  the  future,  took  possession  of  our  hearts, 
and  we  could  but  weep,  and  pray,  and  trust.     Again 
they  were  disbanded,  to  roam   at  pleasure   until  three 
o'clock,  when  they  were  assembled  and  seated  in  ranks 
upon  the  grass,  and  treated  to  pie  and  cake. 

At  five,  we  again  gathered  them  by  singing.  The 
Greene-street  friends  had  some  instruments  of  music, 
and  aided  us  in  this  effort.  They  had  been  counted 
when  we  started,  and  it  was  now  quite  desirable  to  keep 
them  still  long  enough  to  do  the  same ;  but  this  requir- 
ed considerable  ingenuity  on  the  part  of  their  teachers, 


I 


MISSION     SUNDAY     SCHOOL.  271 

for  they  had  become  almost  uncontrollable  from  the  ex- 
citement of  their  day's  rambling.  But  by  making  sol- 
iiers  of  the  boys,  forming  them  in  a  line,  marching  and 
countermarching,  and  appealing  to  their  military  pride, 
we  at  last  succeeded.  We  re-entered  the  car  at  six 
o'clock,  and  without  accident  or  hindrance,  arrived 
safely  in  New- York  at  dusk.  On  reviewing  the  day, 
the  friends  unanimously  concluded  that  we  had  not 
had  any  more  trouble  with  our  Five  Points  than  we 
would  have  had  with  one  hundred  children  froifl  any 
other  quarter.  Some  were  rather  unruly  ;  there  was  a 
little  quarreling ;  but  no  bad  words  spoken,  no  marked 
and  peculiar  misconduct.  And  thus  we  learned  anew 
the  moral  power  of  kindness.  There  was,  there  could 
be  no  authority  than  that  which  love  created ;  and  we 
found  that  sufficient,  to  control  those  who  came  from 
the  homes  where  drunken  parents  raved,  and  unc-on- 
trolled  passions  had  full  sway.  . 


272  THANKSGIVING     SUPPER. 


€ljniikHgtiiing  §ufpt   at  tjiB   fmt  ^niufe 

November  27th,  1852. 

"When  thou  makest  a  feast,  call  not  thy  friend?,  nor  thy  brethren,  nor 
thy  kinsmen,  nor  thy  rich  neip;hbor3  ;  lest  they  also  bid  thee  again,  and  a 
recompense  be  made  thee.  But  when  thou  makest  a  feast ,  call  the  poor^ 
the  maimed,  the  halt  and  the  blind,  and  thou  shalt  be  blessed ;  for  they 
cannot  recompense  thee  ;  for  th  m  shalt  be  recompensed  at  the  resurrection 
of  the  just." — Je8F3. 

Month  after  montli  rolled  away  in  connection  with 
this  mission,  burdened  with  anxiety  and  care,  until  even 
its  warmest  friends  felt  almost  sinking  beneath  the  pres- 
sure. Thanksgiving-day  was  appointed,  and  we  resolv- 
ed for  a  little  time  to  lay  aside  our  ordinary  duties, 
and,  by  change  of  occupation,  to  find  relief,  and  bestow 
gladness. 

The  view  presented  was  formidable,  for  many  obsta- 
cles were  in  our  path.  But  there  were  warm  Chris- 
tian hearts,  determined  spirits,  strong  wills,  and  liberal 
donors,  united  in  action,  and  what  could  stand  before 
such  a  combination  ?  We  were  not  permitted  to  have 
the  room  in  which  we  had  held  our  festival  the  two 
previous  years,  so  the  Advisory  Committee  engaged 
the  mammoth  Tent  of  the  City  Temperance  Alliance, 


THANKSGIVING     SUPPER.  273 

which  was  erected  in  the  little  park,  opposite  the  Old 
Brewery,  and  known  as  Paradise  Square, 

The  morning  of  Thanksgiving  dawned  in  cloudless 
beautj,  and  as  the  day  advanced,  not  a  shadow  dim- 
med the  horizon.  The  cool,  pure  atmosphere,  and  the 
glowing  sunshine,  seemed  to  inspire  every  heart  with 
courage. 

We  met  in  the  ofBce  of  the  Old  Brewery,  formerly 
the  liquor  store  of  the  establishment.  This  was  a  low, 
long  room,  with  cracked  and  stained  walls,  its  only 
furniture,  besides  the  Missionary's  bookcase,  being  some 
benches,  and  the  boxes  of  clothing  supplied  by  our 
kind  friends  from  abroad.  Provisions  began  to  arrive, 
and  soon  it  presented  a  most  ludicrous  aspect.  Tur- 
keys, chickens,  and  meats  of  every  kind  mingled  in 
sweet  confusion  with  cakes,  pies,  fruits,  &c. — ever- 
greens on  the  floor,  crockery  on  the  window-sills 
and  benches,  huge  piles  of  clothing  waiting  for  dis- 
tribution, visitors  pouring  in,  childish  faces  peeping 
through  every  window  and  open  door — commands, 
opinions,  directions  issuing  from  every  quarter. 

The  tent  is  sixty  feet  in  diameter,  and  very  lofty.    It 

is   circular  in  form,  and   around  it  were   tiers  of  seats, 

meeting  at  a  small  platform,  where  the  speakers  stood, 
12* 


274  THANKSGIVING     SUPPER. 

at  the  temperance  meetings,  and   on  tlie  Sabbath,  ta 
preach. 

Eleven  o'clock  arrived,  and  notice  was  given  that  the 
tables  in  the  tent  were  ready  for  the  ladies.  The  seats 
had  all  been  removed,  and  four  tables,  nearly  the  length 
of  the  tent,  and  about  three  feet  wide,  had  been  arrang- 
ed, two  on  either  side  of  the  furnace,  leaving  wide  pas- 
sages between  for  the  visitors.  Soon  the  evergreens 
were  festooned  around  by  the  gentlemen,  then  the  floor 
was  strewed  with  clean  straw,  and  table-cloths  of 
white  muslin  laid  over  the  tables.  By  this  time,  hun- 
dreds of  ragged,  dirty  children,  had  collected  around 
the  tent  and  Brewery.  The  food,  all  gathered  in  the 
Brewery,  had  to  be  removed  to  the  tent.  A  door-keep- 
er was  stationed  at  each  place,  a  passage-way  cleared, 
and  then  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  transformed  into 
carriers  and  waiters,  (we  could  not  trust  any  of  the  lit- 
tle rebels  to  help,  though  we  had  plenty  of  offers.) 
As  they  passed  through  rank  and  file  of  the  hungry 
watchers,  loud  cheers  were  given  for  each  successive  tur- 
key, and  three  long  and  loud  for  a  whole  pig  with  a 
lemon  in  his  mouth,  and  it  was  diflScult  to  conclude 
whether  it  was  most  appropriate  to  cry  over  the  want 
displayed,  or  laugh  over  the  temporary  plenty  provided. 


THANKSGIVING     S  C  T  P  E  R  .  275 

During  the  time  of  these  preparations,  others  of  a 
different  character  were  transpiring.  The  ladies  were 
trying  to  select,  first  our  Sunday  school  children,  and 
next  any  who  seemed  hopeful.  These  were  washed 
and  dressed,  and  then  each  received  a  ticket  which 
admitted  them  to  the  Mission-room,  where  friends 
received  and  entertained  them.  In  the  tent  was  a 
scene  of  activity — gentlemen  carving  the  meats,  ladies 
cutting  the  pies  and  cakes,  and  forming  them  in 
towering  pyramids,  the  younger  girls  filling  paper 
bags  with  candies  and  fruit,  workmen  hanging  the 
lamps,  others  filling  a  large  wicker-stand  with  dolls 
and  toys  of  various  kinds.  At  half  past  four  all 
was  ready.  On  our  tables  were  sixty  turkeys,  with 
beef,  ham  and  tongue,  in  proportion,  and  sundry  chick- 
ens, geese,  <fec.  Pies,  cakes,  bread,  and  biscuit,  celery 
and  fruit,  and  candy  pyramids  filled  the  slight  intervals, 
and  the  whole  presented  an  appearance  inviting  to 
the  most  fastidious  appetites.  Plates  and  cups  were 
arranged  around  for  more  than  three  hundred ;  the 
lamps  were  lighted,  and  the  signal  given.  Hundreds 
of  visitors  stood  in  silent  expectation,  and  in  a  moment 
the  sound  of  childish  voices  was  heard,  and  they  enter- 
ed in  regular  procession  singinar— 


276  T  H  A  K  KS  G  I  V  I  K  G     SUPPER. 

"  The  morn  of  h  pe  Is  breaking. 

All  doubt  now  disappears, 
For  toe  Five,  i'.>iiils  u/e  waking 

To  penitcntinl  tears; 
And  many  :ia  ouicast,  feeiing 

Bowed  down  by  sin  and  shame. 
Finds  pardon,  peace  and  healing. 

In  the  Redeemer's  name. 

Peace  !  peace!  peace? 

In  the  Redeemer's  name. 

"  We  children  learn  the  lessoa 

In  our  dear  Mission-school, 
Then  to  our  homes  we  hasten. 

And  tell  of  Siloa's  po&l  ; 
And  some  have  parents  beiiding 

Before  thu  God  you  Jove, 
Who  feel  his  grace  descending 

To  fit  for  Heaven  above. 

Grace  !  grace !  grace ! 

To  fit  for  Heaven  above." 

They  took  the  circuit  of  the  tent,  and  were  then 
arranged,  standing  around  the  tables  They  stood, 
with  folded  hands,  while  all  sang  the  doxology,  and 
the  Missionary  asked  a  blessing  upon  the  occasion.  Not 
a  hand  was  raised,  not  a  voice  was  heard,  imtil  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen  who  had  charge  of  the  tables 
supplied  their  hungry  visitors  with  food.  Then  all 
was  glad  commotion,  and  then  was  the  time  for 
joyous  tears.  Three  hundred  and  seventy  poor,  neg- 
lected, hapless  children,  placed  for  an  hour  in  an  at- 
mosphere of  love  and  gladness,  practically  taught  the 
meaning  of  Christian  kindness,  wooed  and  won  to  cling 


THANKSGIVING     SUPPER.  277 

to  those  whose  inmost  hearts  were  struofofhng;  in  earnest 
prayer  for  grace  and  wisdom  to  lead  them  unto  God. 
We  gazed  on  them  with  tearful  eyes,  these 

"Children,  who  seldom  know  a  parent's  care, 

In  whom  the  woes  of  erlder  years  are  seen; 
"Whose  earliest  steps  must  be  upon  a  snare, 

Un'ess  some  watchlul  stranger  intervene, 
And  stand  those  frail  young  things  and  the  darli  gulf  between." 

And  many  a  resolve  was  formed  to  be  more  zealous 
with,  and  for  them,  than  they  had  ever  been  before. 
They  ate  and  drank  without  restraint  until  all  were 
satisfied,  then  again  formed  and  commenced  singing. 
In  the  central  aisle  was  placed  the  stand  containing 
the  toys  and  cornucopias  of  candy,  and  another  filled, 
-vith  oranges  and  apples.  By  these,  two  ladies  were 
seated.  The  children  marched  by  them,  in  as  much 
order  as  the  dense  crowd  would  permit,  singing  as  they 
went,  "  We  belong  to  this  band,  hallelujah,''  and  in 
each  hand  the  ladies  placed  a  gift  as  they  passed,  until 
all  were  supplied.     Then  all  the  children  left  the  tent. 

There  was  now  an  interval  of  a  few  moments.  The 
tables  were  hastily  replenished,  and  then  notice  was 
given  to  the  visitors,  that  the  company  now  about  to 
assemble  were  the  "  outsiders,"  about  whom  we  knew 
nothing,  save  that  they  were  poor  and  wretched,  and 


i 


278  THANKSGIVING     SUPPER. 

all   were  warned    to    take    care  of  their  watches  and 
pocket-books. 

They  came  in  scores,  nay  in  hundreds  ;  they  rush- 
ed in  and  surrounded  the  tables,  men,  women,  child- 
ren, ragged,  dirty,  forlorn.  What  countenances  we 
read : 

"  Victims  of  ceaseless  toil  and  want  and  care, 
And  hero  the  sterner  nature  that  will  dare 
To  live,  though  life  be  bought  with  infamy ; 
Who  law,  or  human  or  divine,  defy — 
And  live  but  to  perpetuate  crime  and  misery." 

A.nd   the  children   who  accompanied  them,  miniature 
likenesses,  both  physically  and  morally.      Alas !  alas  ! 

'  It  needed  no  prophetic  eye  to  see 

How  many  yet  must  the  same  ruin  share." 

And  we  could  scarcely  hope  to  snatch  these  from  the 
vortex.     We  spoke  to  them  woi"ds  of  kindness  and  en- 
couragement,  and  they  partook  until   not  a  fragment 
was  left,  and  then  quietly  left  the  tent. 
We  felt  as  we  looked  upon  them, 

•'Tis  fearful  to  look  around  and  see  this  waste 

Of  human  intellect — the  dark  lines  traced, 

Where  every  mark  of  mind  the  withering  breath 

Of  ignorance  hath  from  the  brow  erased  ; 

The  apathy  that  shows  a  moral  death. 

The  worse  than  death  that  lurks  an  eye  of  Are  beneath," 

Our  weary  company  now  hastened  over  to  the  Brewe- 


THANKSGIVING     SUPPER.  279 

ry,  which  was  ilkimiuated  from  every  window,  and 
again,  with  joy,  we  anticipated  the  hour  when  from 
our  Mission-room  a  light  would  emanate,  both  mental 
and  moral,  of  which  this  illumination  would  be  only 
the  foreshadowing  and  the  faint  emblem. 


'ffljimltHgiiiiiig  luppr. 

NOVEMBER    24th,    1853. 
"  Send  portions  unto  them  for  whom  nothing  Is  prepared." 

NEHBlOAa. 

Every  great  moral  enterprise  has  its  outward  and  its 
inward  history.  These  act  and  react  upon  each  other, 
giving  coloring,  direction  and  stability  to  the  whole  ; 
yet  are  so  intermingled  or  entwined  that  it  is  oft-times 
dijBScult  to  decide  which  is  the  most  predominant  or 
even  the  most  important  part. 

Deep  in  some  human  mind  the  germ  first  struggles 
into  life.  Revolved  and  re-revolved,  it  takes  form ;  it 
gathers  strength ;  it  becomes  too  powerful,  even  for  the 
capacious  heart  that  conceives  it.  It  is  spoken.  The 
thought  responsive  awakes  in  thousand  other  hearts. 
Discussion  succeeds ;  the  interest  deepens,  and  concerted 


280  THANKSGIVING     SUPPER. 

action  is  the  result.  That  action,  that  visible  expoiien* 
of  invisible  thought  and  determination,  is  the  epoch  of 
the  enterprise.  It  is  the  fact  which  embodies  past 
thought,  desire  and  resolve ;  and  from  which  we  start 
anew  with  more  expansive  thoughts,  more  intense  desires, 
more  vigorous  resolutions,  and  with  far  deeper  and  more 
extended  plans  of  action. 

The  purchase  of  "  the  Old  Brewery  "  was  that  fact  to 
the  Ladies'  Home  Missionary  Society,  the  inhabitation  of 
the  new  mission  building  was  its  sequel  and  the  crowning 
point  of  its  outward  success. 

If  our  readers  will  refer  to  the  account  of  the  last 
Thanksgiving  supper,  they  will  realize  why  thoughts  like 
these  rush  in  upon  the  minds  of  those  who  can  trace 
the  cause  and  efiect  of  events  which  have  occurred 
since  the  commencement  of  their  Mission  in  this  place. 
The  links  of  the  chain  are  visible  to  their  internal  or 
external  vision ;  and  while  ever  and  anon  they  present 
some  isolated  fact  to  their  interested  friends,  it  is  the 
great  whole,  so  stamped  with  providential  care  and 
direction,  which  makes  them  grateful  for  the  past, 
strong  for  the  present,  and  hopeful  for  the  future. 

Last  year,  on  this  "  festive  day, "  we  convened  in  the 
liquor  store  of  the  Old  Brewery  to  make  our  prepara- 
tions for  the  annual  feast.     It  was  a  happy  day — for 


THANKSGIVING     SUPPER.  281 

th3  famed  old  place  was  ours.     Ours  by   purchase,  by 
possession.     Even   then  it  was   renovated.     Redeemed 
souls  inhabited  it — happy  children  gambolled  through 
its  decaying  rooms  ;   the  song  of  praise  and  the  voice  of 
prayer   nightly    reverberated  through  its  dark  apart- 
ments ;  but  the  future  filled  every  mind   and   warmed 
every  heart.     We  had  plans  that  could   not  be  prose- 
cuted— hopes  that  could  not  be  realized  until  the  new 
Mission  building  should  arise  upon  that  firm  foundation. 
We  had  watched  the  demolition  of  the  old  building, 
and  then  the  gradual  rise  of  that  which  was  to  give  our 
Mi&sion  stability  and  place,  with  feelings  akin  to  exulta- 
tion. We  had  witnessed  the  completion  of  the  Mission 
House,  and   its    dedication    to    the     highest    interests 
of  humanity,  with  deep  and  solemn  emotion.    Revolving 
months  had  realized  the  success  so  fondly  anticipated, 
and  on  this  festive  day,  as  we  stood  in  our   Chapel,  or 
descended  to  the  school  rooms,  or  exchanged  glad  words 
with  Christian  friends, 

"  Thoughts  upon  thoughts,  a  countless  throng, 
Eushed  chasing  countless  thoughts  along," 

and  we  are  sure  our  readers,  our  Christian  readers,  will 
enter  into,  and  sympathize  with,  feelings  too  deep  and 
full  to  find  utterance  in  words.  To  such  we  dedicate 
our  long  digression. 


282  THANKSGIVING     SUPPER. 

On  November  23d,  the  day  preceding  Thanksgiving, 
the  "  Five  Points"  was  rife  with  life  and  activity.  Hun- 
dreds of  hearts  were  beating  in  pleasant  anticipation 
of  the  approaching  holiday,  and  sundry  preparations 
gave  due  notice  of  its  approach.  In  the  Chapel  were 
many  young  ladies,  employing  their  time  and  exercis- 
ing their  taste  in  decorating  it  with  evergreens.  Men 
and  women  were  performing  the  more  menial  services, 
which  a  very  rainy  week  had  made  particularly  neces- 
sary, and  the  Missionary  taking  note  of  the  provisions 
which  were  already  flowing  in  from  various  quarters. 
The  usual  speculations  respecting  the  weather  were 
freely  indulged  in,  and  that  "  it  could  not  rain  on 
our  Thanskgiving,"  seemed  to  be  the  universal  deci- 
eion. 

True  to  prophecy,  and  to  hope,  the  24th  dawned  in 
brightness  upon  our  expectant  host.  We  hastened  to 
the  Mission  House,  and  there  apparent  confusion  reigned. 
It  looked  as  though  the  famed  magician  wand  would 
be  necessary  to  bring  order  out  of  such  chaos,  but 
past  experience  had  taught  Us  to  smile  at  apparent 
impossibilities. 

The  wardrobe  rooms  were  reserved  for  the  prepara- 
tions, and  soon  on  every  side,  geese,  turkeys,  chickens, 
beef,   salt  and  fresh,  bread,  biscuits,  pies,  cakes    and 


THANKSGIVING     SUPPER.  283 

crackers,  were  placed  in  heterogeneous  order,  and  scores 
of  busy  hands  were  carving,  cutting  and  arranging 
them  for  the  tables. 

In  the  adjoining  large  schoc  I-room,  the  seats  had 
been  removed,  and  three  tables,  about  fifty  feet  long, 
and  capable  of  accommodating  two  hundred  children, 
were  ready  for  the  feast.  The  school-room  is  parti- 
cularly light  and  cheerful  in  its  aspect ;  the  bright 
sun  shone  through  the  clean  windows,  notwithstanding 
the  scores  of  little  heads  and  faces,  which  were  peering 
in  at  every  open  spot  to  watch  the  preparations ;  and 
the  inscriptions  made  of  evergreens  by  the  young 
ladies,  contrasted  agreeably  with  the  white  walls  on 
which  they  were  suspended.  Arched  over  the  teacher's 
platform  we  read,  "I  was  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me, 
hungry,  and  ye  fed  me  ;"  the  authority  and  encourage- 
ment of  our  labor  of  love. 

By  one  o'clock,  the  tables  were  laden  with  substan- 
tials,  while  the  extras  were  held  in  reserve  until  a  later 
hour.  Visitors  by  scores  now  flocked  in  to  express 
their  interest,  leave  their  donations,  and  then  hastened 
with  lighter  hearts  to  their  own  annual  gatherings,  in 
their  respective  homes.  'Twas  pleasant  to  realize  how 
many  kind  hearts  were  sympathising  with  the  poor  and 
needy,  on   whom   no  festive   day  would    ever   shine, 


28  t  THANKSGIVING     SUPPER. 

were  it  not  created  by  the  dwellers  in  happy  homes,  by 
those  on  whom  the  God  of  Providence  had  showered 
gifts  so  abundantly,  and  who  had  pondered  until  they 
practically  believed  the  glorious  truth  :  "  It  is  more  bles- 
sed to  give  than  to  receive."  In  the  Chapel,  many  hands 
were  busy  in  completing  the  arrangements  for  the 
evening.  It  is  a  lofty  room,  with  large  arched  windows, 
a  plain  pulpit,  a  neat  carpeted  altar,  and  a  commodious 
back  gallery.  The  wood  is  painted  dark,  and  grained 
to  resemble  black  walnut,  while  the  walls  are  still  in 
their  pristine  white. 

High    over    the    pulpit,    forming    a   semicircle,  was 
written  in  evergreen  : 


%  "  Go  ye  into  the  highways  and  hedges."  % 

■H-  ■k 


Under  this  was  placed  the  banner  of  the  school  of 
the  society,  giving  the  date .  of  its  organization,  &c.,  aa 
follows : — 


%  Old  Brewery,  1850.  % 

*  "        Day  and  Sabbath  vSchool  of  the  * 
%                           Five  Points'  Mission  % 

*  Of  the  Ladies'  Home  Missionary  Society.  * 

*  * 


THANKSGIVING     SUPPER.  285 

The  pulpit  itself  was  neatly  wreathed  with  evergreens^ 
and  a  large  table  in  front  of  it  was  covered  with  an 
innumerable  variety  of  toys. 

At  half-past  three,  the  children  of  the  school  were 
admitted  into  the  gallery  of  the  Chapel — two  hun- 
dred clean,  well-clad  and  rapidly  improving  children. 
TVe  pause  to  make  a  remark.  On  the  last  Thanks- 
giving day,  we  were  obliged  to  make  preparations 
to  have  the  children  washed  and  dressed  under  our 
supervision.  Wearisome  hours  were  spent  ere  two 
hundred  could  be  made  ready.  At  the  laying  of  the 
corner  stone  we  advanced  a  step.  The  clothes  were 
all  fitted  the  day  before,  and  made  into  bundles  with 
the  names  of  the  wearer  attached.  The  children  were 
directed  to  come  washed  and  combed.  Many  of  them 
were  sent  home,  two  or  three  times,  ere  our  ideas 
of  cleanliness  were  realized.  Such  as  could  be  trusted, 
then  received  theij;  bundles,  the  others  were  dressed 
in  the  Mission  room.  On  the  Tuesday  of  this  week 
the  society  had  been  favored  with  a  concert  by  "  the 
Ilutchinsons,"  and  many  of  the  children  had  at  that 
time  been  supplied  with  the  needful  winter  clothing  ; 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  garments  having  been  distribut- 
ed. They  were  now  simply  informed  that  they  must  come 
elean  and  well  dressed  from  their  homes  or  they  could 


/ 

286  THANKSGIVING     SUPPER. 

not  come  to  the  supper,  and  without  any  further  in- 
tervention of  the  ladies,  two  hundred  came  from 
cellars  and  garrets,  from  habitations  too  miserable 
for  any  to  picture,  who  have  not  had  some  ocular 
demonstration  of  such  scenes.  They  came,  as  we  have 
said,  all  clean  and  happy,  and  to  the  observant  mind 
there  is  a  most  encouraging  fact  behind  this  outward 
improvement.  The  jnothers  are  reached,  or  this  could 
not  have  been,  and  this  is  universal,  or  so  great  a 
number  could  not  have  thus  appeared.  Is  not  "  the 
leaven  working,  which  shall  eventually  leaven  the 
whole  lump  ?" 

Visitors  now  flocked  in,  until  the  Chapel  was  crowd- 
ed to  overflowing,  while  the  supper-room  was  continu- 
ally thronged.  The  children  sang  some  of  their  best 
pieces,  and  then  the  audience  were  addressed  by  Mr. 
Joseph  Hoxie,  an  old  New  Yorker,  whose  emotions 
seemed  almost  uncontrollable  at  findinor  himself  at  the 
Five  Points  on  such  an  occasion.  He  remarked  that 
"  he  had  spent  fifty"  Thanksgiving  days,  but  that  this 
only  seemed  worthy  of  the  name.  That  never  had 
such  feelings  crowded  upon  him,  and  that  the  audience 
must  excuse  his  want  of  calmness  while  making  his 
unexpected  speech.  He  addressed  the  children  aflfec- 
tionately,  encouraged  the  society  to  persevere  in  their 


THANKSGIVING     SUPPER.  28  I 

work  of  love,  and  with  much  power  exhorted  the 
audience  to  aid  to  the  utmost  this  glorious  work. 

Father  Gavazzi  was  also  present,  and  addressed  the 
audience  for  the  space  of  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes. 
His  enthusiasm  was  awakened  by  the  scene,  and  the 
work  going  on  there  called  forth  his  eloquence.  At  the 
time  of  his  remarks,  the  Chapel,  aisles,  gallery,  door- 
ways, and  every  available  spot  within  hearing,  was 
crowded.  After  prayer  by  Rev.  Mr.  Luckey,  the  for- 
mer pastor  of  the  mission,  "The  Maine  Law  Song" 
was  sung  by  the  children,  and  a  collection  taken  up, 
Father  Gavazzi  being  one  of  the  plate  bearers. 

At  5  o'clock  it  was  announced  that  supper  was  ready. 
Stewed  oysters,  pyramids  and  ice-cream  had  been  sup- 
plied (all  sent  as  donations),  and  the  tables  presented 
an  appearance  of  great  abundance  and  luxury.  The 
children  descended  from  the  gallery  led  by  the  mis- 
sionary, all  singing  to  a  lively  tune, 

"  Children  go,  to  and  flro, 
In  a  merry,  happy  row," 

and  making  the  circuit  of  the  tables,  until  all  were 
arranged.  GiHce  was  said  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hatfield, 
and  then  commenced  '  the  tug  of  war.'  Ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen, young  and  old,  served  as  waiters  to  these 
Five   Points  gentry,  and  the  visitors  gazed  upon  the 


288  'J'  H  A  K  K  S  G  I  V  1  ^•  G     B  U  P  P  E  R  . 

scene  with  varying  emotions.  Some  laughed,  for  it 
was  ludicrous  to  hear  the  general  refusal  of  beef  and 
other  common  things,  and  the  pleading  tone  of  "I  want 
turkey,  or  chicken,  please  ma'am."  But  many  wept  in 
hope  and  fear,  for  the  future  of  this  multitude  of  children 
was  yet  unwritten,  and  while  these  fostering  influences 
were  around  them  for  good,  yet  evil  influences  were  also 
pressing  upon  them  with  fearful  power,  and  uncertainty 
was  stamped  upon  their  earthly  and  eternal  history. 

They  ate  until  all  were  fully  satisfied,  and  then 
reascended  to  the  Chapel,  and  took  their  seats  in  the 
lower  part  of  the  room,  to  await  the  distribution  of  the 
toys,  which  filled  two  tables  in  front  of  the  pulpit.  These 
had  been  watched  with  longing  eyes  for  many  hours,  and 
were  now  distributed,  with  candies,  &c.,  according  to 
the  best  judgment  of  two  of  the  ladies. 

During  this  interesting  scene  in  the  Chapel,  another 
was  enacting  in  the  supper-room.  The  tables  had 
been  hastily  cleared  and  replenished,  and  then  the  doors 
were  thrown  open,  and  the  "outsiders,"  to  the  number 
of  two  hundred,  men,  women  and  children,  rushed  in 
and  surrounded  them. 

What  a  scene  ?  how  can  it  be  described  ?  Have  not 
our  readers  in  their  daily  walks,  sometimes  met  one 
man   or  woman,  or  child,   so  abject,  so  haggard,  so 


THANKSGIVING     SUITS  11.  289 

pitiful,  that  tht  inmost  nature  lias  been  stirred  to  its 
depths,  as  they  have  seen  how  low  humanity  could  fall, 
how  nearly  the  Maker's  image  could  be  defaced  ?  Ima- 
gine then  two  hundred  ^uoh,  casting  furtive  glances 
around,  as  if  engaged  in  some  unlawful  work,  and 
eating  with  a  voraciousness  which  could  not  be  appeased, 
while  aught  remained  within  their  reach  to  satisfy  it. 
Yet  they  were  quiet,  subdued,  and  left  the  room,  when 
satisfied,  as  orderly  as  our  more  trained  band.  Others 
again  partook,  and  when  the  last  had  departed,  nought 
remained  of  our  abundant  stores. 

We  gazed  on  the  last  guests  at  our  tables,  with 
deepest  interest,  for  these  are  the  '  material'  for  future  op- 
erations. We  hope  thus  to  make  them  feel  that  some  are 
caring  for  them,  even  amid  their  utter  degradation — and 
when  the  hour  of  penitence  or  of  sickness  comes,  they 
will  know  where  to  look  for  counsel  and  for  aid.  We  hope 
thus  to  draw  the  children,  and  therefore  we  view  our 
annual  Thanksgiving  feast,  not  merely  as  a  gratification  of 
physical  appetite,  but  as  an  important  moral  influence. 

The  anniversary  has  passed,  but  ifs  pleasures  will  not 

soon  be  forgotten;  and  we  indulge  tlie  hope  that  during 

the  coming  year,  many,  very  man3\  vv'ill  phice  themselves 

within  the  reach   of  those  higher  influences,  which  will 

eventually  prepare  them  for  'the  great  supper  of  the  Lamb.* 

13 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A      VISIT     TO      THE      CRYSTAL      PALAOK. 

"  We  know  not  from  a  burning  brand, 
Which  spark  kindles  the  flame." 

In  how  many  hearts  has  the  desire  to  see  the  Crys- 
tal Palace,  with  its  many  wonders,  been  awakened,  and 
how  varied  has  been  the  nature  of  that  emotion  ! 

Froiii  a  vague  and  simple  curiosity  to  see  the  out- 
ward manifestation,  without  the  slightest  thought  res- 
pecting the  world  of  science  and  of  art  which  stood 
thus  revealed,  to  the  most  thoughtful  analysis  of  the 
wondrous  power  of  man's  physical  and  mental  nature, 
which  is  declared  in  each  specimen  of  handiwork  thus 
displayed,  every  phase  of  desire  has  been  elicited  and 
gratified. 

When,  therefore,  that  wish  found  utterance  in  the 
Five  Points  Mission  school,  it  was  deemed  desirable  to 
gratify  it.  From  the  earliest  establishment  of  the  mis- 
sion, these  children  had  awakened  the  most  anxious 
thoughts  of  the  Society.  The  question  to  be  settled 
vras  not   merely,    how    can     we    educate  the    mind  ? 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE.  291 

Our  successful  public-school  system  had  satisfactorily 
answered  that ;  but  how  can  we  educate  the  hearts  of 
children  who  have  no  homes  in  which  their  younor  af- 
fections are  expanded,  or  their  ohildish  desires  sympa- 
thized with  and  gratified  ? 
A  poet  sings, 


"  How  litOe  is  the  happiness 
That  will  content  a  child — 
A  favorite  dog,  a  sunny  flower 
A  blossom  growing  wild.' 


But  that  is  only  true  where  the  young  heart's  deeper 
yearnings  are  first  satisfied.  There  was  a  restlessness 
and  wildness  about  these  neglected  children,  which  for  a 
long  time  it  seemed  impossible  to  subdue,  a  sel- 
fishness which  their  independent  habits  of  life  had  nat- 
urally engendered,  and  a  grasping  spirit  which  no 
amount  of  favors  appeared  suflScient  to  satisfy.  Kind- 
ness, lohich  they  could  appreciate,  added  to  those  higher 
forms  which  toe  Icnew  would  elevate  and  improve 
them,  appeared  to  be  the  main  element  of  success. 
And  as  their  hearts  could  only  be  reached  through 
their  senses,  we  not  only  clothed  and  fed  them,  but 
took  them  to  see  sights  and  hear  sounds ;  that  by 
gratifying  them  in  every  way,  those  young  aflfections, 
which  in  happier  children  are   placed   upon   kind    and 


292  A    VISIT   TO    THE    CKYSTAL    PALACE. 

indulgent  parents,  might  be  transferred  to  us ;  and 
thus  enable  us  to  exert  that  moral  influence  which  no 
scholastic  training  can  create. 

Again  ;  the  Society  have  remarked  that  these  chil- 
dren are  citizens  of  a  free  and  happy  land,  in  which 
are  no  insuperable  barriers  to  the  highest  moral  and  so- 
cial elevation  of  each  and  all,  whose  •  course  is  rightly 
directed,  and  whose  ambition  is  properly  awakened. 
Therefore,  they  have  rejoiced  in  the  opportunities  of 
showing  their  children  those  public  exhibitions,  which 
each  them  that  there  is  a  world  of  science,  of  indus- 
ry,  and  of  art,  into  which  they,  too,  may  enter,  and 
earn  a  name  and  secure  a  position  such  as  they  see 
others  now  occupy  and  enjoy. 

With  much  pleasure,  therefore,  we  prepared  to  com- 
ply with  the  invitation  of  Theodore  Sedgwick,  Esq., 
President  of  the  Association  of  the  Crystal  Palace. 

The  scholars  assembled  at  the  usual  hour,  prepared 
for  their  excursion,  clean,  comfortably  clad,  and  happy. 
After  receiving«sundry  directions  relative  to  their  be- 
havior, they  started  with  their  teachers,  the  missionary, 
and  a  number  of  ladies  connected  with  the  mission,  for 
he  cars  in  Chambers  street.  A  pleasant  drive  brought 
is  to  the  Palace,  which  was  hailed  by  a  simultaneous 
shout  from  the  delighted  children.     Again  forming  a 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE.  293 

.ine,  with  the  banner  of  the  school  before  us,  we  enter- 
ed the  spacious  building,  singing  "  merrily,  merrily," 
as  we  advanced  toward  the  central  dome,  and  formed  a 
ring  around  the  colossal  statue.  As  the  interest  of  the 
numerous  visitors  seemed  to  be  excited  by  the  children, 
and  much  pleasure  was  audibly  expressed,  the  mission- 
ary engaged  them  in  singing,  while  the  necessary  pre- 
parations were  made  by  the  superintendents  and 
teachers.  Six  children  were  then  assigned  to  each  lady 
and  gentleman,  and  we  dispersed  to  roam  at  pleasure 
amid  the  bewildering  scenes  around  us,  with  the  simple 
direction  not  to  touch  any  thing,  and  to  meet  at 
that  spot  at  one  o'clock. 

That  was  a  strange  position  we  occupied  once  and 
again,  beneath  that  lofty  dome,  which  crowned  this 
most  perfect  specimen  of  original  design,  and  successful 
execution.  Around  us  was  the  congregated  Avealth 
of  nations — man's  mental  and  physical  power  was 
stamped  on  every  picture  that  entranced  the  artist's 
eye,  or  by  its  life-like  power,  evoked  the  passing  gazer's 
praise — by  every  sculptured  form  which,  in  its  inan- 
imate beauty,  seemed  only  awaiting  the  word  which 
should  s  :)eak  it  into  instant  and  most  perfect  life — it 
was  proclaimed  by  the  powerful  yet  noiseless  machinery 
which    so    fully    accomplished    its     complicated,   yet 


294  A    VISIT    TO    THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE. 

strangely  simple  end.  In  all  the  varied  forms  of 
beauty,  which  met  the  bewildered  gaze,  was  written  the 
triumph  of  intellect,  the  subjugation  of  matter  to  the 
control  of  mind,  the  rapid  approach  of  that  glorious 
era  "  when  that  which  is  perfect  has  come,  and  that 
which  is  in  part,  shall  be  done  away." 

We  gazed  above,  around,  and  the  eye  rested  where — 
on  what  ?  Upon  the  children  of  the  Five  Points ! 
denizens  of  one  of  the  most  morally  degraded  spots  on 
this  wide  earth.  Thought  travelled  back  for  years, 
when  not  one  redeeming  influence  was  resting  upon 
them ;  it  paused  a  moment  on  the  present :  they  were 
there  awakened  into  purer  life,  beneath  the  fostering 
care  of  Christian  benevolence,  and  they  would  be  where  ? 
when,   amid 

'•  The  wreck  of  matter  and  the  crush  of  worlds," 

this  "  wide  magnificence"  of  thought,  design  and  execu- 
tion, would  be  among  the -ephemeral  things  of  earth — 
forgotten  amid  the  inconceivable  splendor  of  "  the  new 
heavens  and  the  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteous- 
ness." 

Our  meditations  were  soon  banished  by  the  innumer- 
able questions  pressed  upon  us — not  very  wise,  noi 
pertinent  to  the  scene,    but  still  to  be   answered   if 


A    VISIT   TO    THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE.  295 

possible — for  the  day  was  theirs,  not  ours.  We  ■wander- 
ed around  two  hours,  and  if  their  anticipations  were 
realized,  it  was  well ;  for  ours  were  not. 

We  had  started  in  the  morning  with  some  very 
pLilosophic  views.  We  thought  we  would  watch  the 
direction  of  unsophisticated  tastes — we  would  listen  to 
the  expression  of  wondering  admiration  from  unculti- 
vated mind  in  its  simplicity,  and  then  we  would  make 
comparisons  and  draw  inferences,  and  positively  decide 
upon  "innate  ideas,"  and  other  similar  points,  which 
from  ancient  times  have  puzzled  bookish  men  who  had 
not  the  Five  Points  of  human  nature  open  to  their 
inspection — but,  alas  !  for  our  philosophy.  Our  young 
ladies  only  wished  for  the  handsome  dresses  and  big 
dolls!  Machinery,  painting  and  statuary  failed  to 
awaken  their  admiration,  and  as  this  evidence  of 
genuine  taste  was  not  particularly  flattering,  we  deferred 
our  system  until  a  more  favorable  opportunity.  Other 
friends,  however,  were  more  successful.  Writes  one, 
"  Being  tired,  we  sat  down.  One  of  the  little  girls  asked 
*  tne  if  I  thought  Heaven  was  as  beautiful  as  this  place  ? 
I  tried  to  explain  the  difference  to  her  childish  mind. 
I  referred  to  the  description  ol  the  New  Jerusalem 
in  the  Apocalypse,  and  said,  '  Maggie,  do  you  know  what 
figurative  language  means  V     She  signified  her  assent. 


296  A    VISIT    TO    THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE. 

I  dwelt  upon  the  figures  there  used,  and  tried  to  make 
her  understand  how  every  thing  that  was  beautiful  and 
costly  on  earth  was  mentioned  to  represent  those  glorious 
scenes  above ;  and  assured  her  that  all  she  saw  in  the 
Crystal  Palace,  were  but  faint  emblems  of  those  won- 
drous things  which  all  would  behold  who  would 
eventually  enter  into  the  Palace  of  our  God.  She 
listened  with  profound  attention,  and  said,  "  Well,  I  am 
determined  to  be  good,  so  that  I  can  get  there."  "  I  am 
trying  my  best,"  said  another  little  girl,  "  but  I  do  not 
know  what  is  the  reason  I  cannot  be  good  ;  some  of  the 
children  are  so  ugly  they  make  me  so,  too."  I  explained 
to  her  the  way  to  grow  better,  &c.  Another  little  one 
being  asked  what  pleased  her  most,  replied,  "  The  Savi- 
our and  his  Apostles  are  the  very  best  things ;  the 
Saviour  has  such  a  loving  face."  On  the  following 
Sunday,  that  child  referred  to  it  again  with  the  remark, 
"  I  seem  to  see  Him  all  the  time."  Some  of  the  boys 
manifested  much  interest  in  the  machinery,  and  made 
some  very  thoughtful  remarks.  In  after  conversation 
we  found  that  the  case  which  contained  the  Lord's 
prayer,  traced  on  a  gold  dollar,  had  riveted  their 
attention  most  fully.  On  the  next  Sunday  before  school, 
one  remarked  to  two  of  the  larger  boys,  "  What  did 
you  like  best  in  the  Crystal  Palace  ?"  One  answered,  "  The 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    CUVSTAL    PALACE.  207 

macbineiy  ;"  the  other  said,  "  The  things  from  France.'' 
"  Boys,"  said  the  lady,  "  did  you  remember  that  all  those 
beautiful  things  were  made  by  men's  hands,  and  that 
all  those  men  were  once  boys,  many  of  them  poor  boys, 
and  if  you  are  good  and  industrious,  there  is  no  reason 
why  you  should  not  learn  to  make  such."  Pat 
laughed  and  turned  away  his  head,  but  his  companion 
sat  with  his  large  expressive  eyes  riveted  on  the  lady's 
face,  and  as  she  spoke,  his  countenance  lighted  up,  and 
he  was  about  to  say  that  which  she  would  have  liked 
to  hear,  when  the  bell  rang  which  summoned  them  to 
order  and  to  prayer. 

The  utmost  decorum  was  observed  by  all.  We  had  felt 
it  to  be  somewhat  of  an  experiment,  for  in  no  other  exhi- 
bition had  there  been  so  much  to  tempt  them  to  touch 
and  to  handle.  To  our  great  pleasure  we  found  that 
various  influences  produced  as  much  self-control  in 
these  as  in  any  other  children  who  had  gazed  upon  these 
exciting  scenes.  The  superintendent  of  the  exhibition 
remarked  to  one  of  the  teachers,  that  among  the  many 
schools  who  had  visited  the  Palace,  the  Five  Points 
Mission  school  stood  preeminent  for  order  and  good 
conduct. 

At  one  o'clock,  we   reassembled   at  the  appointed 

place,  to  be  ready  for   some  refreshments   which   had 
13* 


■''•^»<»-*-. »-•<>.*  -*-'%~t»-—m.-i  *»    I  ■nu.iL-'^''""*    *\  ■  '—iWfcM  M«»*— <fc»W»>«i>4>^ 


298  A    VISIT    TO    THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE. 

been  provided.  We  marched  in  order  to  the  re- 
freshment saloon,  where  we  found  a  long  table  la- 
den with  abundant  substantials,  beside  cakes  and  ice 
cream.  The  large  punch-bowl  filled  with  orangeade 
occupied  the  centre,  and  while  we  were  thinking  of  the 
provident  care  of  our  superintendent,  to  our  surprise  we 
were  informed  that  all  had  been  provided  gratis  by  Mr. 
Pettilier,  proprietor  of  the  saloon,  who  had  only  been 
informed  that  morning  of  our  intended  visit.  If  more 
than  a  hundred  happy  childish  faces  were  a  reward,  if 
the  silent  gratitude  of  a  score  of  more  reflective  minds 
was  a  compensation,  for  the  trouble  thus  voluntarily 
assumed,  then  our  kind  host  had  a  full  measure  awarded 
him  during  the  busy  hour  spent  in  his  saloon.  We  sang 
the  doxology,  the  missionary  pronounced  the  blessing, 
and  then  all  partook  until  we  believe  all  were  satisfied. 
Mr.  Pettilier  was  introduced  to  the  children,  and  made 
a  few  appropriate  remarks ;  after  which  his  little  son 
presented  the  children  with  a  basket  of  candies,  which 
were  duly  distributed  among  them. 

One  pleasing  evidence  of  their  regard  for  truth  was 
given.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  feast,  a  fresh  supply  of 
ice  cream  was  brought  in.  The  taste  for  ice  cream  wo 
have  found  to  be  rather  excessive,  and  very  diflicult  to 
satisfy.     The  remark  was  made,  that  if  any  child  in  the 


A    VISIT    TO    THE    CRYSTAL    PALACE.  299 

room  had  not  been  helped  to  ice-cream,  he  or  she  might 
come  forward  and  get  some.  The  Superintendent  stood 
by  the  inviting  pyramid,  and  waited  for  the  suppliant. 
But  not  one  child,  from  the  rank  of  one  hundred,  moved 
or  spoke. 

Once  more  we  formed  and  left  the  saloon,  again  sang, 
again  surrounding  the  statue,  marching  until  notified 
that  the  cars  were  ready,  when  we  left  the  splendid 
palace  with  grateful  hearts  for  the  many  favors  thus 
bestowed  upon  our  Mission  school,  and  with  the  full 
assurance  that  this  "visible  proof  of  what  the  Ladies' 
Home  Mission  Society  had  already  effected  for  the 
children  of  the  Five  Points  would  strengthen  their  hold 
upon  the  public  interest,  and  lead  to  yet  more  liberal 
aid  for  their  establishment. 


(C^nctliisintt. 

Our  simple  annals  are  ended,  and  we  give  them    a^ 
the  best  exponent  of  the  operations  of  the  Society,  and 
their  results  so  far. 

When  the  Mission  at  the  Five  Points  was  commenc- 
ed, no  thought  of  the  publicity  which  has  since  at- 
tended it  was  anticipated  by  the  ladies,  who  qui- 
etly and  unobtrusively  attempted  the  experiment. 
They  believed  its  success  to  be  possible,  because 
Christianity  had  wrought  moral  miracles  in  foreign 
heathen  lands,  and  could  and  would  effect  the  same, 
if  properly  and  patiently  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
heathen  of  a  nominally  Christian  land. 

When  Mr.  Pease  was  appointed  by  the  Conference 
to  aid  them  in  carrying  out  their  long  cherished  plans, 
they  pledged  themselves  to  raise  nine  hundred  dollars 
a  year  for  his  salary,  which  was  paid. 

Being  dissatisfied  with  Mm  as  an  agent  and  mis- 
sionary, the  Board  unanimously  resolved  not  to  ast 
his   reappointment  to  that  station,  and  the  Eev.   Mr. 


CONCLCrsiON.  301 

Luckey  succeeded  him  at  the  commencement  of  the 
second  Conference  year.  Finding  their  progressimpeded 
by  want  of  room,  and  relying  upon  the  pubHc  sympa- 
thy which  had  been  warmly  manifested,  they  called  a 
pubhc  meeting  at  Metropohtan  Hall,  in  Dec.  1851,  at 
which  Anson  G.  Phelps  presided,  and  Francis  Hall  was 
acting  Secretary.  The  large  sum  of  five  thousand  dol- 
lars was  raised  at  that  time,  for  the  purpose  of  obtain- 
ing a  permanent  location. 

By  this  time  the  Five  Points  Mission  had  arrested 
so  much  attention,  and  awakened  so  wide  an  interest, 
that  the  Common  Council  of  the  city  voted  the  appro- 
priation of  one  thousand  dollars  towards  the  purchase 
of  "  the  Old  Brewery,"  which  had  been  decided  to  be 
the  most  eligible  place ;  and  to  aid  the  Society  still 
more  in  their  contemplated  purchase,  another  public 
meeting  was  held,  in  the  winter  of  1852,  in  the  same 
place.  At  this  meeting  the  Mayor  of  the  City  presided, 
thus  recognizing  the  Mission  as  a  public  benefit,  and 
nearly  five  thousand  dollars  was  again  pledged.  This 
general  sympathy  from  all  classes  and  denominations 
gave  a  new  impetus  to  the  Society,  and  enabled  them 
to  form  wider  plans,  which  have  since  been  carried 
into  successful  operation. 

The  experience  of  four  years  has  taught  us  that  the 


302  CONCLUSION. 

idea  of  drawing  ofl'  the  populatiou  of  the  Five  Points 
through  the  agency  of  any  institution  is  chimerical  in 
the  extreme  ;  both  because  of  the  numbers  who  com- 
pose its  population,  and  their  unwillingness  to  enter 
into    any    plans    which    would   restrain    their    liberty. 
In   a    vast    majority  of  instances  they  cling    to  their 
own  homes  with  a  tenacity  which  is  truly  astonishing, 
when  we   consider  their   wretchedness.     We  desire  to 
take  advantage  oi  this  fact,  and  by  Christianizing  those 
homes,  to  kindle  lights  throughout   these  dark  regions, 
and  teach  by  the  contrast  they  present,  that  "  godliness 
is  profitable  to  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life 
that  now  is,  and  that   which  is  to  come."     As   well 
might  missionaries  in  foreign  climes  send  away  theii 
converts  to  Christian  lands  to  save  them  from  the  influ- 
ences around  them.     Do  they  not  rather  retain  them  as 
one  of   the  strongest  evidences  of  Christianity  ?     Do 
they  not  say  that  the  influences  of  these  purified  family 
relations  are  of  incalculable  benefit  to  the  mass  around , 
them  ? 

The  Society  have  no  controversy  with  any  institution, 
but  are  perfectly  willing  that  such  an  one  should 
exert  all  the  influence  it  can  over  the  limited  number 
it  can  shelter.  The  work  of  this  Society  is  still  un- 
touched ;    for   theirs    is   the    high    ambition    to    send 


CONCLUSION.  303 

abroad  an  influence  which  shall  renovate  the  Five 
Points.  Their  design  is,  to  visit  the  sick,  to  relieve 
the  poor,  to  clothe  the  naked,  to  educate  the  children, 
to  warn  sinners  to  flee  the  wrath  to  come,  to  lead  the 
penitent  to  an  atoning  Saviour,  and  never  to  consider 
their  work  complete  until  renewing  grace  has  trans- 
formed these  degraded  outcasts  into  obedient  children 
of  the  living  God.  The  Mission  has  been  made 
public,  the  eyes  of  the  Church  and  of  the  world  are 
upon  it,  and  it  is  our  hope  and  continual  prayer,  that 
through  it  God  may  give  a  derdonstration  which  may  be 
seen  and  read  of  all  men  of  what  His  grace  can  ac- 
complish, in  raising  the  fallen,  purifying  the  degraded, 
and  saving  the  lost. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  plans  which,  with 
increased  means,  we  hope  to  carry  out.  We  hope,  when 
the  debt  on  our  Mission  House  is  liquidated,  to  erect  a 
back-building  with  more  tenement  rooms,  where  poor 
families  can  cultivate  the  virtues  of  cleanliness  and 
sobriety — rooms  where  work  can  be  given  to  the  indus- 
trious— a  hospital  where  the  sick  can  be  removed 
from  low  damp  cellars,  and  where  all  needful  care  can 
be  taken  of  the  suffering  body,  while  the  wants  of  the 
undying  soul  are  not  unheeded  ;  and  a  reading-room, 
made   inviting   by    light,    and    warmth,    and    pleasant 


304  CONCLUSION. 

books,  and   kind  words  to  those  who.  have  no  cheerful 
friends  or  happy  homes. 

These  are  some  of  our  plans  for  elevating  the  con- 
dition of  these  people,  and  we  would  tremble  at  the 
magnitude  of  the  work  which  seems  demanded  of  us, 
did  we  not  cherish  the  hope,  that  when  the  true  aim 
and  object  of  this  Mission  is  fully  known ;  when  the 
clouds  which  misrepresentation  and  misconception 
have  caused  to  obscure  our  true  purpose  and  design, 
have  been  dissipated  by  the  light  of  truth,  and  the 
evidence  of  facts,  too  striking  to  be  misunderstood — 
that  then  the  Christian  Church  of  every  name,  and 
philanthropy  of  every  mode,  will  gladly  aid  us  in 
carrying  out  this  grand  experiment  of  love  and  mercy 


THE    END. 


No.J£l_  Sect.  (JL  S.       Shelf. 
CONTENTS 


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Collateral  Lincoln  Library 


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