From Death into Life by William Haslam

W >> William Haslam >> From Death into Life

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21

Before he left us, he made a particular inquiry about the two other
houses which had been built, who lived in them, and especially if all
the "dwellers were converted." Then he declared his intention to go and
see the parties, and rejoice with them, and testify how fully the Lord
had accomplished the promise He gave him upon that very hill, twenty
years before.

According to promise, I went to Billy Bray's preaching-house, or
mission-hall. It was the first time that I had preached anywhere outside
my church and schoolroom since my conversion. There it pleased the Lord
to give me much help, and a great work followed, such as Billy had never
seen in that place before. Several times we were detained there all
night through, with penitents crying aloud for mercy, and believers
rejoicing.

As a rule, the Cornish man would remain at a meeting for hours, and come
again the next day, and the day after, if needful, till he felt that he
could cry for mercy, and then he would begin and continue crying until
he felt he could believe.

At the conclusion of these services we returned to the schoolroom, where
our meetings were continued.

Our friend Billy remained with us at Baldhu, and was very useful. He
spoke in the schoolroom with much acceptance and power in the simplicity
of his faith, and souls were added to the Lord continually.

At this time he was very anxious for a cousin of his, a man somewhat
older than himself, of the same name. This Billy was as famous for his
drunkenness and dissolute habits, as the other Billy was for his faith
and joy. The former used to go by the name of the "lost soul." The very
children in the lanes called after him, "Ah, Billy, you are a lost
soul," and laughed at him. I was then in the freshness and power of my
first love, and could not help regarding this pitiable object, and
considering his case; for I could not imagine why any man should remain
unsaved and without Christ.

Accordingly, one wet morning, when I felt pretty sure that old Billy
would not be out working in the field, I made my way down to his house.
As I expected, he was at home in his chimney comer; so setting down my
dripping umbrella, I told him how glad I was to find him there, for I
wanted to have a talk with him.

"Ah, it's all very well for you gentlemen, who have none else to do but
to go about and talk; but we poor men must work." So saying, he rose up
from his "settle" and went to the door.

"But, Billy, it is raining quite hard; you cannot work in rain like
that."

"Can't help it; we must do our work," and so he slammed the door after
him and departed.

His wife made all kinds of apologies for him, because "he was a very
singular kind of man; he did not mean bad--he was 'that curious,' that
he said and did curious things, and that I must not mind him."

I confess I was much disappointed at his abrupt departure from the
house, but I remained a little longer, till the worst of the storm was
over.

After the lapse of nearly a quarter of an hour, Billy crept back to the
door, and lifting the latch quietly, whispered to his wife, "Is the
passon gone?"

"No, Billy," I said, "here I am. Come in out of the wet. I am so glad
you have come back."

"What d'yer want with me?" he inquired. "I want to talk to you about
your soul. I have been thinking much about you lately, Billy. They call
you a 'lost soul.'"

"What's that to you?"

"Ah, a great deal," I said, "because I have a message for lost people. I
am not a doctor for the body; my business is about the soul."

"I ain't so bad as all that yet," he replied.

"But you are bad enough, Billy--bad enough."

"Yes, indeed," interposed his wife.

"You hold yer tongue; you're no better."

I beckoned to her to be still, and went on to say, "You are bad enough,
Billy, for an old man. How old are you?"

"Up seventy years."

"Seventy years!" I repeated. "Well, now, that's a great age--that's the
age of man. Threescore years and ten! It is like giving you notice to
give up the keys of the old tabernacle. I wonder why God spares your
life? I am afraid you have been a cumberer of the ground all this time,
Billy. Do you know why the good Lord has spared you for so long?"

"I can't tell," he said, getting more and more impatient.

"Well, do you know, I think I can tell you. He is such a loving and
merciful God, He wants to have mercy on you. You could not have greater
proof of it, could you? You set a horribly bad example; you do nothing
but drink, and smoke, and swear. You have asked God to damn your soul
over and over again, and yet here you are still. Why is this?"

He did not answer, but seemed interested; so I went on to speak of the
forbearance of God towards him. I said, "Billy, do you know that I think
the Lord wants to have mercy on you? He wants to save you!" As he
listened, I went on to tell him that God loved him, and gave His Son to
die for him. Then I proceeded to speak of the wonderful patience and
long-suffering of God--a kind of crown upon His love; and what a shame
it was to sin against such love as this.

Poor Billy looked at me with tears in his eyes, and said, "You are a
dear man!"

"Dear man!" I answered. "What, then, is God, if I am 'dear' only for
telling you of His love? Ah, Billy, take and give your heart to God at
once. He is waiting for you. It is a shame to refuse such a God."

I knelt down and began to pray for him. He soon fell on his knees too,
and sobbed aloud; then he commenced to pray in his own way. He needed
much teaching, so when he rose from his knees I said to him, "Now,
Billy, I have been to see you; it is your turn to some and see me next.
When will you come?"

"This afternoon," he said. "Very good; come this afternoon." And he did.
More than that, this poor "lost soul" found peace in my study, to his
great joy; and he was not ashamed to acknowledge it openly, nor afraid
to praise God for His great goodness.

The same evening he stood up in the schoolroom meeting, and told the
people what the Lord had done for his soul. There was great excitement
that night, and well there might be, for every one knew what a daring
and wicked man he had been. One man said that "if a corpse had come out
of the churchyard and spoken, he could not have been more frightened"
(more surprised, he meant).

Old Billy's conversion gave a new and fresh impetus to the work, and
many more souls were added to the Lord.

This dear man lived for three months after this, verifying the words I
was led to say to him at the beginning of our intercourse--that the Lord
was keeping him alive in order to have mercy upon him. At the end of
this time, his daughter came to me one morning in great haste, and said,
"Father is dying, and does so want to see you. Will you come?" I went
immediately. On reaching his house and entering: his bedroom, his wife
said, "You are too late; he is dead!" Softly I moved forward to the bed,
and looking on that face once more, I thought that I could still see
signs of life. Pressing his cold hand, I spoke a few words about the
loving kindness of the Lord. He knew me, and a smile brightened his face
at the precious name of Jesus. While we stood silently round his dying
bed, he said (evidently in reference to what he had heard), "not dead;
just beginning to live." Thus, with a sweet, triumphant smile, he
departed.

CHAPTER 13

Cottage Meetings, 1852.

Our steps were now directed to another part of the parish, where we
commenced a series of cottage meetings in alternation with services in
the church. These meetings were inaugurated in a very remarkable manner,
in the house of a man named "Frank," who was well known as an
exceedingly wicked and careless fellow. His wife was among the fruits of
the revival, and prayed much for him; but the more she did so, the worse
he became. I used to try and comfort her with the thought that if he did
not give himself to God to be made better, it was well that he got
worse, for it was a proof that her prayers were telling; total
indifference would have been a far more discouraging sign.

This was poor comfort to her, however, for he came home night after
night drunk; or if not so, swearing about the revival in the church, and
her praying. He often declared that if he ever caught me in his house,
he would "give me something for myself." He was at all times a very
irascible man, and being troubled with a wooden leg, it made him worse.
As he was unable to work in the mine, he was dependent for his support
on the parish authorities, who employed him to break stones on the road.

Notwithstanding his bad temper and ill-feeling towards me, I always
stopped at his heap of stones when passing, and talked to him either
about the weather or some other trivial subject, being quite satisfied
that he knew the plan of salvation, as I had spoken to him about his
soul at the time of his wife's conversion.

One day, when coming along, I observed Frank before me in the road,
busy, as usual, breaking stones, and began to think what I would speak
to him about, having no particular news to communicate. While I was thus
pondering, I came to his place, when, to my great astonishment, he was
not there. I looked around on all sides, and called, "Frank--Frank!" but
in vain--no one answered. There was no hedge or tree within sight for
him to hide behind; where could he be? All at once, I remembered that
there was a small gravel-pit about twenty-five or thirty yards from the
spot, but scarcely thought it possible he could be there. I went towards
it, however, still calling, "Frank--Frank!" and yet received no answer.
On looking in, sure enough, there was my man, lying down in the pit,
close up to the side, with his face to the ground. I said, "Frank, is
that you? What are you doing there? Are you ill?"

"No," he replied, "I'm not. What d'yer want with me?"

"Nothing in particular," I said; "but to tell the truth, I was so
surprised at your disappearance, that I could not pass on without
looking for you. I was so sure that I saw you in the distance, sitting
in your place; and then, when I came up, you were not there. I wondered
whether I had seen your ghost instead of you, and whether you were dead
or what. Are you hiding away from me?"

Rising up, he said, "I had a terrible dream last night which frightened
me very much. A voice said, 'Go and see Mr. Haslam about your soul.' I
said, 'I will, I will, the first thing in the morning.' When the morning
came, I thought the evening would do; and when I saw you coming, it made
me tremble so, that I got up and hid myself here."

I said, "Frank, it is no use for you to fight against God, or to stand
out against your wife's prayers. You had far better give in."

He then told me that his dream referred to something in his past life,
and sitting down on the bank or side of the gravel pit, he said, 'When I
was ill with my leg (which was taken off), the doctor told me what I
should die. I then cried to the Lord to have mercy on me, and said that
if He would raise me up, I would give my heart to Him. I began to
recover from that day, and kept on intending and intending to give my
heart to God; but I never did it. I got quite well in health, but ever
since that time I have been getting worse and worse in mind. When my
wife was converted, it seemed as if the devil took possession of me
altogether, and the Lord warned me again last night."

"Come now," I said, "you had better kneel down here and give up." It was
a lonely road on a bare common. "Kneel down," I repeated, "and let us
pray." He did so, and after prayer he said, "By God's help. I will give
up."

"No," I replied, "that will not do. Say, 'Lord, take my heart. I
do'--not 'I will'--give up.'"

After a short pause, he solemnly said, "I do; Lord, take my heart!" and
then began to cry.

I gave him the text, "God so loved the world, that He gave His
only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish,
but have everlasting life" (John 3:16). "Think over that," I said, "and
come to the schoolroom to-night." He did so, and was saved, to the great
joy of his soul. After the meeting was over, he remained behind a long
time, and gave vent to his feelings with tears, when he remembered the
goodness of God to him.

"This wooden leg of mine," he said, "is a monument of God's mercy!"

"How is that?" I inquired.

"Several years ago," he said, "I was playing cards for money in a
public-house, and was cheating in order to win, when the man I was
playing with said, 'You would not have won that money if you had not
cheated.' I swore at him, and said, 'God strike my limbs if I did so!' I
knew I had; and the man would not believe that I had not. So we parted."

"The next morning, I was working in the mine, close to a very large
piece of rock, which had been loosened with the blasting, when it
slipped from its place, and carried me along with it into the shaft. As
the heavy end was uppermost, it turned with its own weight, and fell
across the shaft, pinning me against the side. This rock was not less
than two or three tons weight. Notwithstanding the fearful shock, I
retained my senses; but one leg was smashed, and the other severely
wounded. 'God struck my limbs!' I cried for help; and when the men who
were attracted by my screams found me, they saw at once that it was
impossible to extricate me without moving the rock. There I remained for
more than two hours, till they had put a sling around my body. Having
done that, they adjusted a strong chain to the rock and lifted the end.
As soon as they succeeded in raising it, down it went, carrying plate,
ladders, and all before it, to the bottom of the shaft, which was many
fathoms deep, whilst I was left hanging in the sling. They then drew me
up, and took me to the hospital, where one leg was taken off and the
other set; but I was very ill for a long time. Oh, just think, if that
rock had not pinned my legs to the wall of the shaft, I should have been
in hell now! The Lord saved my life then--and has saved my soul now!"

Dear Frank became a very zealous Christian, and for many years preached
the Gospel with much power and acceptance. After his conversion, he came
one morning to beg my pardon for having forbidden me his house, and to
ask if I would come and hold a meeting there for his neighbours.

I did; and there was such a crowd inside, and also outside the house,
and so much blessing, that I was not satisfied with one visit, but went
again and again.

The place was most inconveniently full; they turned out the chairs and
tables to make standing-room inside, and opened the windows and doors
for the people to hear outside; and sometimes, before the address was
over, men and women cried aloud for mercy. We could not kneel down to
pray--praying, singing, and hearing was done standing, and, that very
close together. The house was so uncomfortably thronged, that a miller
in the neighbourhood, who had a large room in the mill, begged me to
come and preach there instead. I accepted his invitation, and we went;
but, alas! there was no power there; it was hard to pray or preach; and
the people were not even attentive. Thus it was clearly seen that it is
not by might or by power of men, but by the Spirit of the Lord; and that
if the Lord was not present to work, no work was done. We went back to
Frank's cottage, and there again the manifest presence of God was
discernible; and every time we did so souls were saved.

Next door to Frank lived a tall, gaunt, gipsy kind of woman, whom they
called "the wise woman." She had a marvellous gift of healing, and other
knowledge, which made people quite afraid of her. This woman took a
great interest in me and my work, and often came to church, besides
attending the meetings at Frank's house.

One day, during these services, she paid a visit to the Parsonage, and
said, "My dear, have you a lemon in the house?" I went to inquire and
found that we had not. "Well, then," she said, "get one, and some honey
and vinegar, and mix them all together. You will want it. Mind you do,
now," she said, drawing herself up to her full height; "mind you do, you
will want it!" Then she put the bowl of her pipe into the kitchen fire,
and having ignited the tobacco, went away smoking.

The servants were very much frightened by her manner and her warning,
and begged of me to get the lemon, saying, "It was about you, master; it
was about you that she came."

I did not know where to get a lemon within three miles, but it so
happened that a man came to the door with a net full, for sale, that
same afternoon. We bought two, just to pacify the servants, and let them
make the mixture, thinking nothing more about it.

In the course of the afternoon a very heavy thunder-storm fell upon us,
deluging the roads and lanes; and before it ceased I had to go to the
meeting. I took the precaution to put on thick shoes, and then set off
and walked through the rain. When I arrived at the cottage, I thought my
feet felt wet; but they were not cold, so that I soon forgot all about
them, and went on with the meeting, which lasted till ten o'clock; then
I returned home. On taking off my shoes, I was surprised to see how wet
and muddy my socks were. I had been standing with wet feet all the
evening. To guard against any ill effects, I put my feet in hot water
before going to bed. However, at three o'clock in the morning I awoke,
nearly choked with a severe fit of bronchitis; the thick, hard phlegm in
my throat almost suffocated me; I had to struggle for breath and life.
After an hour or more of the most acute suffering, my dear wife
remembered the lemon mixture, and called the servant to get up and bring
it. It was just in time. I was black in the face with suffocation; but
this compound relieved, and, in fact, restored me. I was greatly
exhausted with the effort and struggle for life, and after two hours I
fell asleep. I was able to rise in the morning and breathe freely,
though my chest was very sore.

After breakfast, the "wise woman" appeared, standing outside the window
of the drawing-room, where I was lying on the sofa.

"Ah, my dear," she said, "you were nearly gone at three o'clock this
morning. I had a hard wrestle for you, sure enough. If you had not had
that lemon, you know, you would have been a dead man by this time!"

That mysterious creature, what with her healing art, together with the
prayer of faith and the marvellous foresight she had, was quite a terror
to the people. One day she came, and bade me go to a man who was very
worldly and careless, and tell him that he would die before Sunday.

I said, "You go, if you have received the message."

She looked sternly at me, and said, "You go! that's the message--you
go!"

I went. The man laughed at me, and said, "That old hag ought to be
hanged." I urged him to give his heart to God, and prayed with him, but
to no effect. He was thrown from his cart, and killed the following
Saturday, coming home from market.

Her sayings and doings would fill a book; but who would believe the
things?

She was not always a bird of evil omen, for sometimes she brought me
good news as well as bad. One day she said, "There is a clergyman coming
to see you, who used to be a great friend of yours, but since your
conversion he has been afraid of you. He is coming; you must allow him
to preach; he will be converted before long!" Sure enough, my old friend
W.B.--, came as she predicted. He preached, and in due time was
converted, and his wife also; but his story shall come in its own place.

The work at Frank's cottage stopped as suddenly as it began. I cannot
theorize about the subject; I merely state that so it was. It began, it
continued, and continued only in that house, and then it stopped.

Another remarkable thing may here be observed--that on visiting the
cottages within a limited distance round Frank's house, people were
softened, and it was easy to persuade them to yield themselves to
Christ. They appeared to be quite ripe and ready. Just beyond this limit
the people were as hard and careless as ever. It seemed as if the power
of God overshadowed only a certain spot, and that all within that were
under Divine influence for the time, though all were not converted. They
acknowledged, however, that they felt the Spirit's power striving with
them, and they knew afterwards that it was withdrawn. "The wind bloweth
where it listeth."

CHAPTER 14

Open-Air Services, 1852.

1. PERRANZABULOE

AS the summer advanced, it was laid on heart to go and preach in the
parish of Perranzabuloe, where I had ministered in my unconverted days.
The vicar, would not consent to my having the church; but told me, in
writing, that he could not prevent my preaching on the common or the
beach. I thanked him for his suggestion as to the latter. As soon I was
able I made arrangements, and giving due notice, went down to the old
familiar place; but this time on a new errand, and it was to me a fresh
start in my work. I took my gown for this first open-air service; and on
arriving, found many hundreds of people already assembled at the
appointed place, on Perran beach.

After giving out a hymn, which was most heartily sung, I prayed,
thanking God for the change He had wrought in my soul, and begging Him
to show that He had forgiven the past, by bestowing a manifest blessing
upon the present service. All this was loudly responded to, in Cornish
fashion, with hearty "Amens" and various other ejaculations to which I
was well accustomed. Then I read the beginning of the fifth chapter of
St. Luke, taking for my text the words, "Launch out into the deep, and
let down your nets for a draught."

Having reminded the people how hard I had worked amongst them for four
years without seeing any conversions, I went on to show them, by way of
parallel, that Simon Peter had toiled all night and taken nothing, but
that when he went forth at the Lord's command, he enclosed a great
multitude of fishes. "Here," I said, "is encouragement for us to expect
a blessing now. Why did Simon Peter fail at first? and why did he
subsequently succeed? Why did he fail?--1. Because he went out in the
night. 2. At his own desire. 3. In the wisdom of men. Why did I fail?--1.
Because I preached and laboured in the night of my unconverted state. 2.
I laboured at the bidding of the Church. And, 3. According to the wisdom
and tradition of the fathers. Why did Peter succeed?--Because, 1. He
went out in the morning. 2. At the Lord's bidding. 3. With the Lord's
presence.

"I am come (I was thankful to be able to say) in the bright sunshine of
my first love. Jesus, the Saviour, is the 'Sun of my soul, my Saviour
dear.'" The people cheered me so much with their responding, that I felt
as happy as they. The opening heaven seemed to shine around us, indeed,
"with beams of sacred bliss." They shouted again and again, "Glory to
God! Glory to God! Hallelujah! .... I am come now," I continued, "to
tell you from my own personal experience, about salvation and the
forgiveness of sins." "Yes, yes!" "Thank the Lord!" "Bless Him!"

"I am come, dear friends, at the Lord's bidding. I feel sure that He put
it into my heart to do so. Oh, how much I longed to do you good when I
was your minister; but I could not, for I knew nothing about the Way
myself. Now, that I do, I am constrained to tell you. The love of God
within, and the Word of God without, compel me.

"I feel I have the Lord's presence, for He not only promised it where
two or three are gathered together in His name; but also to those who
preach the Gospel, He said, 'Lo, I am with you alway!' His presence is
power. It is His word I bring you, not mine; I merely deliver it. He is
here. And be sure He loves you, and, what is more, takes a deeper
interest in this preaching than we can. He died for you, and shed His
blood for your forgiveness; how, then, can He do otherwise than take an
interest in the delivery of His message, and, more, in the result which
is to follow?

"When Simon Peter let down his net, he was astonished; mark, it was a
net he let down into the deep, something which enclosed the fish, in
order that he might bring them out of their native element, the water.
So I preach the Gospel, not merely for the sake of preaching, but to
bring you from the power of Satan, in which we all are by nature, to
God, that you may receive the forgiveness of your sins.

"We read that he enclosed a great multitude of fishes; I have faith to
believe that the Lord will bring many to Himself to-night."

With shouting and praise the address was concluded and prayer was
offered. At the close, we found at least fifty people in that great
throng on their knees, crying for mercy. It was a most triumphant and
joyful time, and the people were loth to separate. We slept that night
at Porth, as that part of the village is called.

The next morning two fishermen came to my lodging, bringing a large
basket of fish as a present. Their hearts had been cheered the preceding
night, and taking my word in a natural as well as a spiritual sense,
they went out once again and let down their nets. They had gone out many
nights before and taken nothing; but this time their venture was crowned
with success, and they came back rejoicing ill the Lord, who had shown
them that temporal as well as spiritual blessings come from Him. The
basket of fish they brought me was an acknowledgment of their heartfelt
gratitude.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21