SERMONS. (continued 3)
Reading edition
True, I was converted after I was forty years of age, but it was a bare chance. And oh, how hard it was for me. And if I had not had the most patient of friends to sympathize with me, encourage me and guide me, I should never have gotten along. I beg you do not follow my example in putting off your return to God.
Look at the men whom you know. How little interest they take in religion and their interest grows less and less all the time. The years have already come when they have no pleasure in the things of God. They have encouraged all their feelings, desires and ambitions but this, and this has almost died out. They have devoted all their thought and affections to making money and enjoying it, to seeking pleasure and enjoying it, to acquiring fame and enjoying it, and so their hearts are completely hardened and insensible to the religion which they cast aside ten, twenty or thirty years ago. And they will probably never feel the all-absorbing interest in religion which is necessary to obtain it. Hence, they will go on blinder and blinder, colder and colder, more and more hardened down to old age and to the grave and to a hopeless eternity. I beg you, my young friends, all who hear me to put off your return to God not one day longer.
Note.—The address, of which this is the outline, was delivered on a Sunday-school occasion and is a specimen of Mr. Holcombe's talks to young people.—Ed.
MARK II: 15.
"And it came to pass, that, as Jesus sat at meat in his house, many publicans and sinners sat also together with Jesus and His disciples; for there were many, and they followed Him."
1. This class of persons feel that they are outcast, and not recognized by those who are esteemed the good. Hence, they feel backward, and will not make advances toward the good for fear of being slighted.
2. If those who are looked upon and honored as good and pious and pure, will show that they want to be friendly and sociable, it will take these persons by surprise, and will win their feelings—and this is nearly half the battle.
3. Besides, if the good, instead of waiting for these sinners to make advances, which they will not do, will take pains to show their interest in the welfare of these, their unfortunate brothers, it will make them believe that the pious are sincere, and not hypocritical, and that religion is a reality and not a mere profession. This is a great step toward gaining them. Most of this class believe in the Gospel in some vague sense, but it is too vague to amount to anything. But when they see the grand principle of the Gospel—Love—embodied in the Christian, and coming after them in their lost condition, it makes an impression, and it moves them to action. You can not drive men, nor can you convince them by abusing them and by shutting them out as too vile to be your associates. This only drives them further away. But all men have a chord in their natures that can be touched by love and kindness. It was this gentleness and sympathy that drew the thousands around John Wesley. It was this wonderful tenderness that made the publicans and sinners and harlots, the outcast and the low and the vile seek the company of the loving Jesus and press into His presence, even when He was the guest of the great and noble of His day. They knew Jesus would never repulse them—they knew He would love them, help them, save them.
"Down in the human heart Crushed by the Tempter, Feelings lie buried that grace can restore; Touched by a loving hand, wakened by kindness, Chords that were broken will vibrate once more."
4. There has to be such an interest felt for those of this class as will make you cease to care for what people will say about your going among them and working with them. This was the sort of interest Jesus had for them.
5. Imagine your own dear son to be one of this number, and see what feelings you would have, what earnestness and what planning. These are some of the ways and means of getting at this class of persons. For we have to use means and reason in all things.
6. But the agent, the only one who can accomplish anything is God's Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit comes only in answer to prayer and trust. Prayer is to be first and second and third and everywhere and always, and then we may hope that our plans will succeed.
PREPARATION FOR WINNING SOULS.
I am sure, my dear brethren, that in the discussion of this topic we are to be allowed some liberty and some latitude; and, if I shall speak in a general way, I trust I shall not be counted out of order. And, not to detain you with preliminaries, I say that, to be a winner of souls, a man must have the anointing of the Holy One, reproducing the mind that was in Christ, who "though he was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, that we through His poverty might become rich," and who "being in the form of God, thought it not a usurpation to be equal with God, but He emptied Himself and took upon Him the form of a servant; and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient as far as unto death, even death on a cross."
A sympathy that arises from any other motive, or comes from any other source, than His divine and supernatural anointing, will fall short of the mark, and will be found too shallow and weak to bear with the hardheartedness, the perversity and the ingratitude of sinful men.
This anointing, on the other hand, brings with it a yearning love and a profound sympathy for those who are in the blindness and bondage of sin, which impels one to seek out the lost, to be at patient pains to save them, and to bear with all their dullness, slothfulness, selfishness, perverseness and thanklessness, while they are under training, so to speak.
It makes a man as ready and anxious to save the soul of a solitary sinner, however humble and degraded he may be, as to preach with power to the great congregations. It was this that made John Wesley as willing and careful and patient in talking to a negro servant girl as to a multitude. And it was this which lead a greater than John Wesley to lead with patient love along, the poor Samaritan adulteress whom He met at the well of Jacob.
But what is more important and imperative for the immediate work of getting a dead soul to a living Saviour, this divine anointing imparts that peculiar and energetic pungency which pierces to the heart and conscience of a sinner, rouses his fears, and prepares him for the reception of Christ.
Not only so, this unction from the Holy One is accompanied with a practical wisdom and insight which discerns, if not all things, yet, at least, many practical things. It enables a man to see that the first thing to be done in the way of saving a sinner is to convict him of sin. To get him to admit theoretically that he is a sinner, is equal to zero, amounts to nothing. But, in a way not to repel him, he must be made to feel that he is sinful, and so, wretched. It is wonderful what tact some men have in this respect. Here lies, undoubtedly, the secret of Sam Jones' power. He turns all classes of men, Pharisees in the church and sinners out of it, inside out, and makes them see, in spite of all spiritual apathy and all self-deception, what they are. He shows them secrets which they thought nobody knew but themselves.
But a greater than he did the same thing—Jesus touched the sore spot in the conscience of the Samaritan woman and compelled her to say: "He told me all things that I have done." This revealing the secrets of the heart is a thing that fascinates and attracts and wins a sinner; and he feels, if you know so well without being told, all the particulars of his inner life and all the desperate trouble of his case, you surely can not make a mistake in pointing out the way of escape. Just as a patient yields immediate and unquestioning confidence to the physician who can tell him all his symptoms and describe his feelings better than he himself can do it.
If preaching the love of Christ without convicting of sin would have saved people, then most people in the United States would have been saved long ago, for the love of Christ has been told and retold and preached and re-preached, and it does not bring sinners to repentance. To be sure there are some sinners who have found, by bitter experience, the ripe fruits of sin, and these may be already prepared to accept a deliverer and a deliverance as soon as offered to them.
The possession of this unction presupposes that a man is correct, upright, holy in his life; for God would not give it to one who was not so. I believe Mr. Moody was right when he said: "If a man's life is not above reproach, the less he says the better." A friend of mine says he knows a minister who, though no doubt a good man and a fine talker, will lie now and then. Of course, he would not call it lying, nor would his admirers call it lying, but lying it is; and so he has no power. His preaching is like a sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal.
There are some men who have some little success in soul-saving, but who would have much more success, if their lives were thoroughly holy, and Christlike. And indeed some men would not have the success they do have, if the public knew their secret life. For example, there are some men who indulge evil thoughts (if they do not go further) and who are not chaste in their associations with women; and there are others who are ill-tempered, cross, fault-finding, sour and bitter in their home life. If these things were publicly and generally known, they would lose what power they have with the people. Brethren, we can hardly be too careful of these things. But a full and constant anointing of the Holy One would correct all these evils at the source, namely, in the heart. It makes a sober Christian man tremble to know how little some of the preachers and evangelists of the day pray. It would be no wonder if under stress of some sudden and strong temptation, they should fall into scandalous sin and disgrace themselves and the cause they represent. There is an old and true saying that "when a man's life is lightning, his words will be thunderbolts."
We are advised to make ourselves familiar with the Scriptures, to equip ourselves with weapons from the armory of God's word; and excellent advice it is.
No man can maintain a spiritual life who does not habitually and diligently study God's holy word. No man is prepared to understand the wants of souls or to deal with them who is not familiar with the Scriptures. It is a marked characteristic of our honored brother, D. L. Moody, that he can, not only discern the deeper, inner spiritual sense of all the Scriptures, both of the Old Testament and the New, but he can handle and apply them with a skill, effectiveness and power that are truly wonderful. And, what is more, he is peculiarly apt in selecting just the right passages for any particular case or occasion. He is truly a masterly handler of the sword of the spirit, and his success is largely due to this fact.
But there is a class of workers who seem to think that it is sufficient to know by heart some Scriptures, or to have a certain facility in referring to different passages, and they rely upon this, congratulating themselves that they are doing well. But it is all perfunctory and lifeless and dead. There is no charm, no warmth, no power in it. A man must be more than a mechanical text-peddler in order to impress, arouse, comfort and save the souls of men. You may pitch cold lead at a man all day long and never break his skin; but let a full charge of ignited gunpowder drive it out of a well-aimed rifle, and the effect is terrific. So these text-mongers may throw Scripture at people all day long, and they laugh at it. But let the same missile be hurled forth with the energy of a soul on fire of the Holy Ghost, and the slain of the Lord will be many.
So, my brother, there is absolutely no substitute for this unction of the Holy Spirit. And this unction is given in answer to self-denying and daily prayer.
If we would know the secret of power with men, we must spend much time in secret communion with God.
Note.—This address is one of two delivered by Mr. Holcombe before the convention of Christian workers of United States and Canada in the Broadway Tabernacle, New York, September 21-28, 1887.—Ed.
THE MISSION—PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE.
I. THE PAST.
Two years ago I was working in the Fire Department of the city, because I could get nothing else to do. The close and slavish confinement, the necessity of being always at my place, both of nights and Sundays, and the consequent lack of opportunity to do anything for the cause of my Master, made it almost intolerable for me, and several times I made up my mind I would give up the place, even though I had nothing else to fall back on for a living for myself and family. But through the advice of friends and the help of God, I was kept from that rash step. However, I determined I must do something for my Lord and for the men of my acquaintance and former occupation who would not, I knew, go inside of a church. So, though I was getting under sixty dollars a month, and had a large family to support, I determined to rent a room at my own expense in the central part of the city for holding Gospel meetings, and to hire a substitute to take my place in the Fire Department when I was absent and engaged in the work of my Lord.
I made known my plans to my former pastor, and he became interested and promised to help me. He was living in the country, and hardly ever attended the preachers' meeting here on Mondays; but it happened on the next Monday after I told him of my purpose that he was at the preachers' meeting, and, on my name being mentioned by some one present, he took occasion to speak at length of my conversion, trials, poverty; my intense yearning to engage entirely in the work of God, and my immediate purpose to commence Gospel meetings in entire dependence on God alone for help. He went so far as to ask the preachers present to speak of the matter to their members and make an effort to get assistance from them for the expenses of my proposed work. But one of the preachers present, though saying very little at the time, was moved to lay before his official board a proposition not to assist in paying the expenses of such a plan of work, but to take me from the Fire Department and pay me a regular salary and defray all the other necessary expenses of such a Mission work as my heart was set on doing. And his official members were also moved to agree to his proposition, and when he came to me and told me of what had taken place, I was constrained to say: "This is God's doing, and it is marvelous in my eyes." So the very thing I desired above all other things; the very thing I should have chosen if I could have had my wish, was brought to pass. And I saw that by waiting God's time, He rewarded me in granting me the desire of my heart, and meanwhile I had learned lessons of patience and preparation that I could not have learned so well anywhere else. (Mr. Holcombe went on to speak of the beginning of his work in the Tyler Block, with the assistance and co-operation of Rev. Mr. Morris; of the results accomplished during that first period; of the removal of the Mission to Jefferson street, between Fourth and Fifth streets, and the results accomplished there, and, lastly, of the removal to the present building, etc. See his life.)
II. THE PRESENT.
At present we have the house on Jefferson street. We have a Sunday-school of scholars who do not attend any other school, and would not. It is supplied with able and devoted teachers, such as Brother Atmore and others. The devotion of Brother Atmore is shown by his refusing to leave his class one Sunday to go to the Masonic Temple during Sam Jones' meetings. The children show a wonderful improvement since they have been coming to the Sunday-school. Brother Atmore's boys were almost unmanageable at first, but they are now so changed that it is very noticeable. This Sunday-school feature of the work is one of the most important and promising parts of it, and we believe the results to be accomplished by it alone will amply repay all the outlay of labor, time and means that has been made in the enterprise. We have also a reading-room in connection with the Mission-room, where we have papers, magazines, books, etc. The words of invitation and welcome painted on the door have drawn in some who, but for the reception, sympathy and help which they found there, might have gone on in their wretchedness to suicide.
While we furnish lodging, food, etc., to those who are destitute, yet it is with a view to their spiritual welfare and ultimate salvation. And so soon as we find a man is availing himself of our charity with no intention or effort to become a Christian, we let him go.
III. THE FUTURE.
In looking at the past, we find there are several plain and striking results of the work. The most apparent is the radical and astonishing change for the better that has taken place in the cases of many unhappy men and their families. Two years ago these men "sat in darkness and in the shadow of death," being bound in affliction and iron, because they rebelled against the laws of God. Therefore He brought down their hearts. They fell down and there was none to help. And none but themselves and God knew the bitterness of their bondage and the depth of their dark and unrelieved despair. But they were brought into contact with a new force and a new agency by means of the efforts and sympathy and instructions of those engaged in this work, and to-day their old life with its bitterness and bondage and darkness is left behind from one to two years in a path that, it is hoped, is not to be retraced forever, and now these men are happy again, and some of them prosperous in business. And what shall be said of their families—their wives and children, innocent sufferers from the vices of husbands and fathers?
Husband is husband again, father is father again, and the long dark night of hopeless sorrow and bitter tears has ended—ended at last, and ended, let us hope and pray, forever.
But if it be also true, as He said, who spake as never man spake, that it profits nothing to gain the whole world and lose one's own soul; if there is for the unsaved an undying worm and an unquenchable fire, and for the saved an inheritance of joy that is incorruptible and a glory that fadeth never more away, then where or how shall we begin to compute the result of this mission work? It is recorded in eternity, and only the unfolding of eternity can unfold the good that has thus far been done.
But aside from these direct results, there is another one which can not be estimated, namely the demonstration of the power of the Gospel to do for helpless, enslaved, lost men what nothing else in the universe can do. There is naturally in the hearts of men a doubt as to the divinity of that religion which fails to do what it proposes to do, and so in times of religious deadness, men lose faith, and unbelief grows stronger and more stubborn in proportion as they see no actual instances of the power of the Gospel to save bad men. But when bad men have been reached and quickened and convicted and made holy by the Gospel, then the tide turns and faith becomes natural and easy and contagious, not to say necessary. Many of my old companions were brought to believe in the Gospel when I was changed by it; and now when scores of the worst cases in Louisville have been reached and saved, and have stayed saved so long, men are brought back from unbelief to faith, and naturally turn to the Gospel with increasing hope.
But this return of faith has not only been noticeable in the case of the unsaved classes, the churches have seen this work, and have had their faith in the divine power of the Gospel to save all men increased, and a corresponding activity is witnessed among many of the churches in the city. They have learned also that to save lost men we must, like Jesus, not wait for them to come to us, but we must go to them and after them, just as has been done in this work.
There is a passage in Malachi which says, "Bring all the tithes into my storehouse and prove me herewith if I will not open the windows of heaven and pour you out such a blessing there shall not be room enough to receive it."
This Walnut-street church, led by its devoted pastor, was willing to accept God's challenge, and they brought the tithes, they laid down their money, they made the venture, and God has given them a great blessing.
But this is only the pledge of far greater blessings yet to be given them, if they will continue to honor God, by the faith that lays upon His altar, sacrifices that cost something and amount to something.
Let us not stop to congratulate ourselves upon what has been done and rest satisfied with that, but accept it only as an indication of what He will do for us if we have faith to claim a deep wide-spread and continuous revival.
Note.—The foregoing is the substance of an address delivered by request of the Directors of the Mission on the occasion of a reunion of the converts and mass-meeting of the Christian people of Louisville, in the Walnut-street Methodist Church, in April, 1886.—Ed.
CHRISTIAN WORKERS.
From September 21st to 28th, the second convention of Christian Workers in the United States and Canada was held in Broadway Tabernacle, New York City. From the published report of the proceedings, this speech of the Rev. S. P. Holcombe is taken:
It would be presumptuous in me to stand up here and say how you should conduct a "Gospel Meeting." I do not propose to do that; but will simply tell you how, for six years, I have conducted one at Louisville, Kentucky, and with some success. I say some success, for we have succeeded in gaining the confidence and respect of all classes—preachers, Christians, gamblers, drunkards and infidels. Not only have we succeeded in reaching the hearts of the people, but also their pocket-books.
Beginning in a basement room, at a rent of twenty dollars per month, we now own a building of thirty rooms. As an instance of the respect all classes have for our work, while we were negotiating for this property a German Singing Society also wanted it. This kept the price up above our figures.
I called on the President of the Club, who is an infidel, told him I wanted that property for my Mission work. Said he: "Mr. Holcombe, I am not a Christian, neither do I believe in the churches, but I do believe in the kind of work that you are doing. I shall withdraw until the Holcombe Mission is done." We soon had the property.
Since my conversion I have tried to be a man, just as much as before. As Dr. Pentecost said the other day: "When I put off the old man, I did not put on the old woman," and by this I mean no disrespect to the dear old women, for many of them have more manhood in them than some of us men, and my wife is one of them. What I mean is, that since I have become a Christian I have not lost any of my manhood.
When I was a gambler, I had gambling houses all over the country. The object was to get other people's money without giving them any equivalent, in order to gratify my base passion. I could not, of course, call on the police for protection, as my business was not legitimate. Hence, I had to protect myself, which I did at all hazards.
So, when I opened a house for the Lord, to win souls for Him, I determined I would take care of it at any cost. I think some who are engaged in Christian work are too stilted, others are too lax. I have tried to be both stiff and limber; when it was a matter of no consequence, to bend like the willow; when it was something vital to my Master's cause, to be as stiff as steel. In other words I have tried to be "all things to all men" that I might win some.
I think all Missions ought to have a leader. Ours has one. I am the leader of the meetings. Not that I do all the talking, but I look out for the details.
I have a time for opening and a time for closing the meeting, and I always close at the time. If my opening time is 7:30, I begin the meeting if there is no one there but myself, which, however, has never occurred; and if my closing hour is at 9 o'clock, I close at 9—not 9:30 or 10. We have in Louisville a class of poor people who attend the Mission and who work every day. They must be at their places of labor at an early hour in the morning. They love to be at the meeting, and when they know that they will be dismissed promptly, they will come. I feel that if I were to keep these men and women up till 10, 11 or 12 o'clock, and let them get up at 5 and go to a hard day's work, while I lie in bed until 8 or 9, that I would be a robber.
Now, I do not say that I go home at 9 o'clock; for if there is a single one anxious enough about his soul's eternal salvation to stay till the dawning of the morning, I will remain with him. I simply say that I have a time for opening and a time for closing, and I keep promptly to it.
I have no set way of conducting the meetings. I try to take advantage of the situation and do the best I can under the circumstances.
We always have a Scripture lesson read and a few remarks by the leader. If I ask him to speak twenty minutes, I mean twenty minutes; and, if he is a bishop, I will stop him when his time is up. I don't ask you to agree that this is right—I am only telling you how I conduct a Gospel meeting. After this we have Christians to give their experience, never allowing more than three minutes, and I make it my business to know what kind of lives those who testify are living. If one gets up and begins to talk about the love of Jesus, who I know has that day been drinking, or in a house of prostitution, I stop him right there. I do not allow him to talk, and injure the cause, and then tell him afterward. I say, "Brother, we don't want to hear from you to-night," and so I stop him at once.
I am very careful as to who testifies in my meetings and what they say. If a man who is not a Christian undertakes to exhort others to become Christians, I stop him, because he is trying to talk about something of which he knows nothing, and this is one of the hardest things in the world to do.
Where everybody is invited to take part in a meeting, we are apt to have cranks to deal with. They must be checked and kept down rather than encouraged. By cranks I mean those who have eccentric and unsound views, and think that nobody else can know as well about these things as themselves.
I was holding a series of Gospel meetings in Atlanta, Ga., on one occasion, and had been talking from Acts ii., 38, "And ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." In the address I undertook, as best I could, to show that He, the Holy Ghost, convinces men of sin, and that He reveals Jesus to poor sinners as their sin bearer and life giver, and that it is He that produces that change in men which we call conversion or regeneration or the new birth; and that He, the Holy Ghost, is the comforter of God's people, in their loneliness and trials and conflicts here in this world of exile, as well as our teacher to guide us into the truth. When I had gotten through, I said, "Now we will have short talks from others, and no one will talk more than three minutes." Up jumped a street preacher, who began saying that I had been talking about the Holy Ghost, but I did not know what I was talking about. He knew all about Him, and would tell them about Him. (This was pretty trying, but I kept mum, however.) He then began a harangue. When his time was up, I stopped him. "You are going to limit the Holy Ghost, are you? You are going to take the responsibility of stopping Him, are you?" "No, but I am going to stop you, and that at once." And at once he stopped.
I never allow those who testify to abuse others. Some will begin to talk about the gambling hells. I stop them and say: "No man will go farther to stop these things than I, but this is not the place for that kind of talk." Others, as soon as they are converted, begin to find fault with the churches, and abuse the ministers. I do not approve of this, and I discourage it. I am sorry to know that many who are conducting Gospel meetings are inclined to find fault with Christians, magnifying themselves and their work and underrating the churches and the work of their faithful pastors.
Some of these Mission workers have spent the best part of their lives in sin, never looking into the Bible—have been converted only a short time; have had a little success; got the big-head, and think they know better how to do God's work than those dear men who have been good all their lives and made a study of God's Word.
My dear brethren, in the Mission work, we must remember that all who have ever done any mighty work for God have been trained for it, and trained slowly. Moses, you remember, when he was going to his work down in Egypt, commenced killing people. He was the great chieftain, and was going to deliver his brethren by killing his enemies. This was not the way God wanted it done. God saw that there was good material in Moses, and that He could use him, but he must be trained. So He sent him away to the solitudes of Horeb and Sinai, and kept him there forty years. Then when God called him to go down and bring His people out, he had learned the lesson God wanted him to learn, had gotten down in the dust, was humbled, and he said: "Who am I, Lord?" Moses had gotten more of the Holy Ghost. The more we get of the Holy Ghost the closer we get to God. The more we see of Him, and the more we see of God, the less we think of ourselves; the more insignificant we become in our own eyes.
The Twelve had a grand work to do, but they were slowly trained for it. So, then, let us young converts, whose work God has honored and blessed, be very careful how we magnify ourselves, and underrate the regular ministry. These men are doing a noble work in their respective fields, and they are just as ready and willing to take hold of the poor outcast as we Mission workers are.
There are preachers who are occupying pulpits, where they are getting twenty-five hundred or three thousand dollars a year, and they are doing just as much to save poor drunkards as we ignorant, humble Mission workers are.
You who were at the Chicago Convention last year remember what Dr. Lawrence told us about taking one of these poor, wretched drunkards to his beautiful home; how, notwithstanding he was full of vermin, he had him take a bath, burned his clothes, put clean ones on him, gave him a bed and took care of him as a brother. I tell you, my friends, I was touched by that story as well as taught a valuable lesson. I know of many instances of the same kind that I might tell.
You remember Dr. John A. Broadus, a well-known Baptist minister in Louisville. I know him well. He has been one of my best friends. Not very long before I left home, a drunkard came to the Mission and showed me a note from Dr. Broadus, saying: "This man has called on me for help. I do not like to give him any money, as he is under the influence of liquor. Give him whatever you think best, and I will settle the bill." I asked the man, as I knew him well: "How did you happen to go to Dr. Broadus?" "Because I had heard so many say that he had helped them." I gave him nothing. My friends, we must not underrate the willingness of the preachers to help the poor outcast, for they are much interested in their very welfare.
I love the Missions and the Mission work. Just at this present time, the Missions have got a boom over the country, but if we are not very careful how we talk and act, the Missions will suffer. And the only reason some of them have not quit already is because those who support them, for want of time to hunt up real results, have had to take printed reports.
It is easy for us to find fault with Christians, rich Christians, and say they are cold and indifferent about the souls of men, but the history of the church proves that this is a great mistake. These Missions have to be supported by rich Christians, and when you find a man that has got much money, you will find that he is not a fool. He is generally a man with a long head and farsightedness. He wants to see where his money is going, and what is being done with it. If you use it properly, he will give it liberally. If he finds that you are one of those fellows that want to give his money to every beggar that comes along, he will stop his subscription at once. These are simple facts. If we want this Mission work to succeed we have got to be very careful.
I never allow any begging in my Mission, I don't care how pitiable the object may be. When tramps want food, I send them to the wood yard to work for it. If men will not work, neither shall they eat of the money intrusted to me for spiritual work.
I have no indiscriminate praying. When I want a prayer, I want to know something about the man or woman who is to make it. I ask some one who, I have good reason to believe, is a true Christian, that is, who walks and talks with God. I do not care about their name or denomination. I feel that there is a great responsibility in going to God for these poor sinners, and I want the best man or woman that I can get to talk to God for them. I say: "I am going to call on some one to pray. I don't want you to pray for Africans, Chinese or any other of the heathen nations here. When you go home, you can pray for them all night if you want to, but now we want you to pray for this special work."
I believe in good singing, and try to have it. I would like to have a hundred in the choir. I seldom have over two persons. I suppose the reason is that I will not allow any one to sit on my platform and sing these sweet hymns unless I have good reason to believe they are living pure, holy, consistent Christian lives. I think the man or woman who sits in the choir ought to be as good as he who stands in the pulpit.
Some will come to me and say: "So-and-so is a fine singer; has such a fine voice." "What church does he or she belong to?" "Oh, they are not members." "Well, then, excuse me, if you please." "But that might save them!" "I shall not try the experiment."
I have polite ushers to welcome the people, and to shake hands with them as they come in and also as they go out, and invite them back. They are also supplied with tracts for distribution, tracts that have passed under my observation, as I allow nobody to distribute tracts unless I know what they are.
I try to keep the run of the converts; in fact, I try to know all about them. I try to get them into some church of their choice, that one which they will feel the most at home in and where they will get the right sort of care. It is a very easy thing to get one of these poor drunkards, who hasn't got any place to sleep or anything to eat, to say, "I am going to try and be a better man and follow Christ!" It is a very easy thing, I say, and the poor fellows mean it. But, oh! my friends, how hard it is to get them up to the sticking point. They want to be watched over and given the very best nursing. If I had not had the very best care and nursing of one of the most godly of ministers, I do not think I should be standing before you to-day a Christian man.
I try to follow them up and help the pastors to nurse them. In order to keep track of them we use a book, something like a bank check-book. When they want to unite with some church, we give them a certificate of introduction. In it I ask the pastor to let me know when it is presented. On the stub I take the man's name, age, residence, where from, to whom introduced, with space for remarks as to future career, etc. If he has a home, we visit him at his home, and if he has not, I invite him to visit me at my home at any time, day or night, which is in the same building over the Mission, and we talk together and pray together.
Question. "Will you please state whether you ever recommend fasting as a means of keeping the body under?"
Answer. "I think it is a good idea. I think fasting a good thing to keep the body under. Owing to my poverty, since I have become a Christian, I have had little to feed on. This necessary self-denial has enabled me to keep my poor body down, and from betraying me into sin. No man was ever a greater slave to his passions than I. My passion for gambling was so great I would have committed murder to gratify it. I was very licentious. I just gave loose reins to my passions; but to-day, I thank God, I can stand up before you and say that I am complete master of myself. I know it is a help to live a plain life."
Q. "How many meetings a week do you hold?"
A. "We have them every night."
Q. "Do the men go to the churches when you send them? Do you prepare them?"
A. "I do not hurry them into the churches. And yet I don't say they must be converted before they go in. When a man is sick of sin, willing to give it up, I think he is about as ready for the church as we can get him."
Q. "Do you have much or little Bible reading in the services?"
A. "We do not have much Bible reading. I know that it is the power of God unto salvation; but the class of men who attend Missions, as a rule, are in no condition to be profited by a long Bible reading. The mission of the Missions is to stop these men in their downward course, put them to thinking, get them into churches; then have the Bible read and explained to them by those who are more competent than I am."
Q. "How long do you hold service?"
A. "Exactly one hour and a half; never more, sometimes a little less. The first half hour is taken up in prayer and singing, the other hour in exhortation and testimonies and prayers for the inquirers. After dismissing, we remain with any anxious ones."
Q. "When do you have your converts' meeting?"
A. "Every Sunday morning, beginning at 9:30 o'clock and closing at 10:30, in time for them to get to church."
Q. "Do the churches take good care of the converts?"
A. "As a rule, yes. Some better than others."
Q. "Do the converts come to your Mission after they have joined the church?"
A. "Oh, yes, sir. They feel more at home in the Mission than they do in church, because it was there they entered upon the Christian life. Many of our Christian workers make a great mistake. They find fault with the churches because they don't receive these tramps—I must call them tramps—in their filthy condition and give them the best seats, etc. I want to say right here that a clean church, where clean people go, is no place for a body of tramps. We must remember, my friends, that people who are clean, who have good clothes and clean homes, also have some rights to be considered. I say it is not right to take these people into a fine church, and put them side by side with the clean ones until they themselves are thoroughly clean. I took fifty or sixty of them into a church once, but afterward I was aware that I had made a great mistake. The Mission is the place to clean them up, and then send them to a clean church, and they will feel better themselves, and be warmly welcomed by the members. I don't like dirt any better than other folks, but some one has to do this work, and I am perfectly willing to do it."