Читать книгу: «Prisons and Prayer; Or, a Labor of Love», страница 24
ANOTHER VISIT TO A HOSPITAL
The following is a description of a visit to another hospital, as published in a paper at Chattanooga, Tenn. This was also early in my work.
A BAT CAVE
A SANITARIUM FOR CATS AND HOTEL FOR DOGS—CALLED BY COURTESY THE CITY HOSPITAL OF CHATTANOOGA
Mrs. E. R. Wheaton, the eloquent female evangelist, who has been in the city for the past week carrying on a series of prayer meetings in the jails and houses of ill fame, came into the Commercial office yesterday afternoon and gave a full and detailed report of the neglected condition of the city hospital. She says:
"As I approached the building I could not convince myself that I was really in sight of a hospital, for it reminded me more of a stable than anything else I could conceive of. I approached the gate and met a colored female mute who raised her hand in a deprecating manner as if to warn me of some unseen danger that I was about to come in contact with. I motioned the negro girl to lead the way and followed her into a dreary looking house that I had been told was really the only hospital of which Chattanooga could boast. Just as I opened the door six big hounds sprang from the different beds within the building and would have torn me to pieces had not I hastily slammed the door and shut them in. I applied to a poor cripple man who had the appearance of a half-fed mendicant where to find the keeper and I was informed that he was asleep, but if I would wait he (the cripple) would go and wake him up, and in a few moments he returned accompanied by a healthy looking man who seemed to care little whether I went in or remained out of doors in the rain.
"As I followed the keeper into the room six well fed hounds and one emaciated looking man occupied the beds that were in the rooms.
"I have wandered from one end of the land to the other, I have visited prison cells, opium joints, houses of ill-fame, almshouses, reformatories and every dreary den from New York to San Francisco, from Florida to Montreal, but with all the sights with which I have been confronted I have never seen a more cheerless abode and one so utterly void of comfort and cleanliness as the one occupied by the poor, hungry invalid that shared the beds of the well fed dogs.
"The sick man said he was suffering for the want of food and had been shamefully neglected since he was placed in charge of the manager of this cheerless institution. Two inmates have died within the past week and two are left to suffer.
"The other inmate was a colored man who evidently has little more of life's suffering to endure in this world.
"In this room six cats occupied seats of prominence, two purring on one bed and three others romping from place to place over the apartment, while the sixth was helping himself to the sick man's dinner.
"The buildings are without warmth in the winter and have no means of ventilation for summer. The confined air is contaminated with the odor that rises from unemptied and neglected vessels that are allowed to stand neglected from day to day. The keeper seems to be utterly indifferent with regard to the ease or comfort of the sick and it is very evident that while the city pays for food to support the sick and suffering, the countless and useless dogs and cats eat a large portion of the food which should be used exclusively for the unfortunate inmates."
Mrs. Wheaton has done much commendable work not only in Chattanooga but from one end of the land to the other. She has consecrated her time, wealth and character to the uplifting of fallen people, and by her devotion to Christianity and her liberality has won thousands of friends throughout the country.—Chattanooga Paper.
WORDS OF CHEER FROM OTHER RESCUE WORKERS
The first of the following letters I carried with me on my second visit to Europe, mentioned elsewhere:
FLORENCE CRITTENTON HOME,
21 and 23 Bleecker Street, New York
J. F. Shirey, 67 Farrington Road, East Coast, England.
Dear Brother: This will introduce to you Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton, a prison evangelist. She is alone and unprotected in London. Please make the way for her as best you can where she can speak for God to the poor prisoners. She lives by faith and trusts Him for all.
God bless you.
Mother Prindle.
New York, October 16, 1903.
My first acquaintance with Mrs. Elizabeth Wheaton was made in the Florence Crittenton Midnight Mission, New York City, in 1890. She impressed me then and has ever since as one whom God has called and endowed with special gifts for a grand and noble work. Her one strong hold is faith in God. When under the power of the Spirit she verily treads upon serpents and scorpions and all the powers of darkness seem to flee before her. As a singing evangelist for prison work, I do not know her equal. Her preaching is in the demonstration of the Spirit and with power. She gives the Lord's message with holy boldness, fraught with tender love to the sinner, and blessed are the results.
The midnight call given on train, when it was my privilege to be with her, was an hour never to be forgotten. Many will rise up and call her blessed in that great day who but for her favored and wonderful ministry would have gone into outer darkness. God bless her and her book.
Mother Prindle.
The following taken from "Beulah Home Record," Chicago, Ill., March 1, 1902, is explanatory in itself. Also the letter that follows:
We have had with us for a time, as our honored guest, Mother Wheaton, the Railroad Prison Evangelist. Like Jesus, the friend of poor sinners, she goes up and down the land in state prisons and homes where mothers' girls are sheltered, down into the coal mines, into the great lumber camps, and on crowded railroad trains, while speeding along, she preaches the everlasting gospel of our Lord and Savior, and gives out tracts. Thus she goes as God's flaming minister, sowing beside all waters, singing and praying poor sin-sick, tempest-tossed souls into the kingdom of God. Do you ask what is the secret of her success? It may be found in the Psalms, 126:6—"She goeth forth weeping," she has a burning love for souls. So you and I, dear reader, if we are to succeed in winning souls, our hearts must be full of love for them. We give Mother Wheaton a warm welcome to this great and wicked city of Chicago and a hearty welcome always to Beulah Home.
Berachah Home for Erring Girls,
2719 Lawton Ave., St. Louis, Mo.
We feel in Berachah Home that we shall not forget Mother Wheaton. She came into the "Home" and our lives just as God was leading us out in rescue work, and as she stood among us in our first "open meeting," we felt, "Here is a strong, brave soldier of the cross." We found hope and encouragement as she spoke to us of His service, and the Spirit witnessed "This is of God," as she sang one of her songs as only Mother Wheaton can sing them. We did not see her again until in the Baltimore Convocation of Prayer, January, 1904, when God again used her to bring Mrs. Chapman and me to God's full thought for us there. She with others laid hands on us, with prayer, setting us apart for the "work whereunto we were called." May God bless her ministry to others, as He has to us in Berachah Home.
Mrs. J. P. Duncan, Mgr.Mrs. B. G. Chapman, Treas.
THE PRODIGAL DAUGHTER
"To the home of his father returning,
The prodigal, weary and worn,
Is greeted with joy and thanksgiving,
As when on his first natal morn;
A 'robe' and a 'ring' are his portion,
The servants as suppliants bow;
He is clad in fine linen and purple,
In return for the penitent vow.
"But ah! for the Prodigal Daughter,
Who has wandered away from her home;
Her feet must still press the dark valley
And through the wilderness roam;
Alone on the bleak, barren mountains—
The mountains so dreary and cold—
No hand is outstretched in fond pity
To welcome her back to the fold.
"But thanks to the Shepherd, whose mercy
Still follows His sheep, tho' they stray;
The weakest, and e'en the forsaken
He bears in His bosom away;
And in the bright mansions of glory
Which the blood of His sacrifice won,
There is room for the Prodigal Daughter,
As well as the Prodigal Son!"
We've a Home for Prodigal Daughters,
Our Saviour says gather them in;
Will you help rescue these dear ones—
Who have fallen in paths of sin?
Your girl may be one of the "fallen,"
And you long to see her return;
Oh, there's room for the Prodigal Daughter,
As well as the Prodigal Son.
—Horace.
CHAPTER XIX.
Work in Canada and Mexico
In my several visits to the prisons of Canada I have generally found the officers very courteous. There are sometimes there, as here, changes of administration, making the work of reaching the prisoners more difficult. In the large prison at Toronto the officers were especially kind and gave me the privilege of preaching the gospel to the prisoners as often as I could attend chapel services. Much interest was manifested and I trust good was accomplished.
MY SECOND EXPERIENCE IN STREET PREACHING
was in Hamilton, Canada. There for weeks, night after night, rain or shine, I sang and preached the gospel in the open air. I was especially helped of the Lord and met with blessed success.
In 1886, I took with me from Toronto, a dear young sister, who was called of God to join me in my work. She went with me to Florida and many other states. She afterward married an evangelist but died a few years later, being true to God, so far as I know, to the last.
SERVICE WITH Y. M. C. A
During a visit to London, Canada, after visiting the prisons I went to the hospital to visit the sick. While singing, a message came over the telephone saying that the Secretary of the Y. M. C. A. requested me to lead their meeting on Sunday afternoon. Would I come? I said, "Better wait till I return to the city. I can't tell." The secretary had to know at once, so he could announce it through the papers. So I promised to go, as they had no speaker. I felt discouraged, as I could think of no message suitable for that large, mixed audience, and prayed for guidance. Sunday afternoon—still with no message in mind—I started to the hall. As I walked along the street, praying, I said, "Lord, give me at least a text to read." Just then I saw on the ground a scrap of paper, the torn leaf of a Bible. I picked it up, looked at it, and there my message, text and all, opened up to my mental vision. I went into the pulpit depending entirely on God, and the light broke in on my soul, and the power of God fell on the people. I told them how I was depending alone on the Lord for the words as He gave them to me. It was a victorious meeting. I leave results with the Lord.
A GIRL RESCUED
In one of the Canadian cities I found in the jail a beautiful girl who was very dissipated and unruly. The officers could not control her—no one had any good influence over her. The Lord laid the burden of her soul on my heart. I treated her with love and respect, and tried in every way to win her for God. Finally, she realized that I loved her soul, though no one else cared for her. Then she sought the Lord. She was a Roman Catholic. I told her I would go to the House of the Good Shepherd and speak to the Mother Superior, and see if they would not take her in, as she had no home. She wept with joy at this, and told me of a plan some wicked men had made to be at the jail when she was discharged at 6 o'clock Saturday evening and take her to haunts of sin. I hurried out to the Sisters early in the morning and found them at mass, and waited, determined to save the poor girl from further downfall, and drunkenness. The Sisters, seeing my anxiety and sincerity, agreed to help me. Then I went to the officers of the jail and got them to release the girl at noon. She was taken to another city and thus saved. When the hour came for her release from the jail in the evening, sure enough several men made their appearance and watched and waited for her to come out. At last they began calling her name. Then the officers went out and told them the girl had been pardoned, and had left at noon for another city, with protectors. Another brand had been plucked from the burning for the Master's Kingdom.
SHUT OUT—OTHERS ADMITTED
At one time amidst great inconveniences I reached Kingston Prison. I saw some of the officers Saturday night and they were kind and willingly consented that I should have opportunity to hold or assist in services the next day. The next morning I went to the prison through a drenching rain—without an umbrella, arrived early and waited for the chaplain. When he came, I told him my desire and what the other officers had said. But he refused to even let me go inside to listen to the service. When I asked his reason he said they would not allow women in the prison. Yet while I had been waiting I had seen several Catholic sisters enter. I have had similar experiences in our own land.
STONED
One day as I was passing along the street in the quaint walled city of Quebec, some boys threw stones at me, while an old man urged them on, saying, "If it's Salvation Army ye are, ye should be killed." The Lord have mercy upon them and upon all who oppose His work or His workers. For ourselves we must not count these things strange. "It is enough for the disciple that he be as his Master, and the servant as his Lord."
AN INFIDEL DEFEATED
While in Toronto, Canada, I often went to the parks on Sabbath days and held services—the mayor of the city, who was a devoted Christian, often himself helping in these open-air services. One stand in the park was usually occupied by the infidel element. They would hold the place all day so that others could not have the privilege of doing work for God—so as the place was public property upon which they had no rightful claim I went early and so secured the place before them. When their leader arrived the people were listening to the gospel in song and testimony from worthy witnesses. He was very angry—said it was his place to speak and he must have it, and ordered me to stop and leave the stand, but I kept on with the service as God directed and he went away a few steps and called for the people to follow him, and he would address them. No one seemed inclined to go and a bystander told him his followers were few and he had better desist from trying to disturb a religious service. So we had the victory and God was honored that day in the work which He sent his servants to do.
Among my papers I have found the following letters of introduction given me while in Canada by Hon. John Robson, Provincial Secretary:
Provincial Secretary's Department,Victoria, B. C., Oct. 5.
Dear Brother:
The bearers of this are prison evangelists of a very high and deserving character, whom I asked to call upon you. If you could get up a meeting at Y. M. C. A. rooms for them, it might do good.
In haste yours,John Robson.
Provincial Secretary's Department,Victoria, B. C., Oct. 5, 1888.
Dear Mr. McBride:
The ladies whom this will introduce to you are prison evangelists who are desirous of doing some work in the penitentiary, and I take the liberty of bespeaking for them a kind reception at your hands. They enjoy a high reputation and are well deserving of your kind attention.
Very sincerely yours,John Robson.
A. H. McBride, Esq., Warden Penitentiary.
Victoria, B. C.
Mr. Robson bespeaks for Mrs. Wheaton and lady companion courteous attention at the hands of the warden of the Victoria gaol.
WORK IN MEXICO
Not many years after engaging in special prison work I went into Mexico and have since gone there quite frequently. As a rule the people are ignorant and superstitious and consequently hard to reach with the gospel. But though I was compelled to speak through an interpreter it is surprising how soon they know if one is sincere and earnest. In the prisons they are very poorly cared for, often having to wait years for trial and sometimes dying of neglect. I am told that natives of our own land if thrown into prison there fare worse than others.
A BULL FIGHT
Once while in Mexico I found there was to be a bull fight not far from the prison where I was to hold service. My heart was sad because of the intense anxiety of the Mexicans to see the exhibition. They came long distances and there were many very old people who seemed impatient for the hour to arrive when Mexicans, bulls and horses should be thrown helplessly together—that they might view the combat. This cruel sport—so long a favorite pastime both in Spain and Mexico—was at one time abolished but was afterward re-established out of policy—in order to please the Mexicans. For me to describe this kind of fiendish pastime would not glorify God, nor help the public, but would have a tendency to brutality, being neither elevating nor refining. But should we not, dear reader, try to do all in our power to lead people to a higher plane of morals and send missionaries to help people to know Jesus who satisfies every longing of the human soul, and gives peace and rest here, and a home in Heaven through eternity?
SIX UNDER DEATH SENTENCE
At another time I visited a prison in Mexico where there were six men under death sentence. They could not understand me, but I knelt by those great, strong men and wept and prayed to God who could carry the message of love through my tears to their hard hearts and they were so affected that we all wept together. I am sure they were remembered that day by the God who sent me to show them His love for the lost and who gave me a love for the poor criminals that nothing can destroy.
DIFFICULTIES
During my last trip into Mexico, 1902, I found the prisoners in one place in a most deplorable condition. They were almost starving and neglected in every way. I had considerable trouble in getting into the prison on that day, as I could find no one to interpret for me. So we went from one office to another trying to find some one to admit us to the prison. As I entered one public office a fierce dog came rushing at me from an adjoining room. I fled out of the door in dismay with the dog and an old Mexican woman at my heels. I tried to make her understand what we wanted and then hurried away. Finally we found a fellow decorated beyond description with tinsel and other adornings who furnished me an interpreter and admitted us to the prison. It was very difficult to make the poor prisoners understand how deeply I felt for them, but I could put my arms around the poor women who were there and I could take their little babes in my arms and thus show my sympathy, then telling the story of Jesus who said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."
MINISTERED TO A SUFFERER
I found one poor wounded man who had just been brought into the prison sitting on the ground with bloody clothing and matted hair. He was weeping and tried so hard to explain something to me. The interpreter was evidently slow to tell me what the poor sufferer wanted. I was heart-sick to know what to do, as we had only a short time to stay and I could not bear to leave him without in some way ministering to him. But I thought of the fruit remaining in my handbag. I thrust an orange into his bony hands. He grabbed it and with both hands thrust it to his mouth eating peel and all. Poor man—he was evidently starving. Reader I wish I could make clear to you the pitiful sight! The sequel showed me why that was providentially left in my handbag. How thankful I was to minister to that poor fellow's need in even a small degree. How I longed to help them all.
CHAPTER XX.
Across the Sea
I had greatly desired to preach the gospel in other lands and held myself ever ready to go at a moment's warning, anywhere the Lord should lead, and had been given letters of introduction to prominent people in Great Britain. In the year 1890 my mind was much exercised about the regions beyond—and without time for preparation, with but an hour's notice, the call came to go forward. I was in Philadelphia walking along the street praying—"O Lord, where next—what wilt Thou have me to do?" Looking up I saw the large posters of steamship lines and the thought came to me, "Go and inquire the price of a ticket to Europe." I obeyed the impulse and went in and talked with the steamship agent of rates and the time of departure of the first steamer. Then I left the office praying, O God, show me Thy will—make Thy way very plain to me. Then I went back to the office, feeling that I must get alone with the Lord. I asked the agent if I might go into a rear office which was unoccupied, to pray. He very courteously replied, "Certainly, madam." There I knelt before the Lord and inquired if He wanted me to go at once—that very night—on the first steamer, to Scotland. The answer came clearly: "Go, my child, nothing doubting." I arose, went into the front office and explained to the agent the nature of my mission work; and how for years I had obeyed the leadings of the Holy Spirit and that I had a sister traveling with me who was waiting at the depot for my return, to know where we would go next. Told him I would buy two steerage tickets for Glasgow, Scotland, if he would refund the money for the one in case the sister was unwilling to go with me. To this he consented, so I purchased the tickets and hurried to the railway station where I had left my friend. I knew we had only a few moments to catch the train for New York in order to reach the steamer Devonia for Glasgow. Hurriedly I said to her, "Do you want to go to Europe?" "Oh, yes," she replied. "When?" I asked. "Oh, some time," was the answer. Then I said, "I have two tickets. It is now or never. If you wish to go I will take you, if not, I will go alone and you can return the ticket and get the money for yourself." She said, "I will go." So we rushed to the gate, caught the train on the move, and reached New York in time to get aboard the Devonia.
