Milo

I’LL NEVER STEAL AGAIN – IF FATHER KILLS ME FOR IT

A friend of mine, seeking for objects of charity, got into the room of a tenement house. It was vacant. He saw a ladder pushed through the coiling. Thinking that perhaps some poor creature had crept up there, he climbed the ladder, drew himself up through the hole, and found himself under the rafters.

There was no light but that which came through a bull’s-eye in the place of a tile. Soon he saw a heap of chips and shavings, and on top a boy about ten years old.”Boy, what are you doing there?” “Please don’t tell anybody— please, sir.” “What are you doing here?” “Don’t tell anybody, sir; I’m hiding.” “What are you hiding from?” “Don’t tell anybody, if you please, sir.” “Where’s your mother?” “Mother is dead” “Where’s your father?” “Hush don’t tell him don’t tell him! but look here!” He turned himself on his face, and through the rags of his jacket and shirt, my friend saw the boy’s flesh was bruised, and the skin broken. “Why, my boy, who beat you like that?” “Father did, sir.” “What did your father beat you like that for?” “Father got drunk, sir, and beat me ‘cos I wouldn’t steal.” “Did you ever steal?” “Yes, sir. I was a street thief once.” “And why don’t you steal anymore?” “Please, sir, I went to the mission school, and they told me there of God, and of heaven, and of Jesus; and they taught me, ‘Thou shalt not steal; and I’ll never steal again, if father kills me for it. But, please, sir, don’t tell him.” “My boy, you must not stay here; you will die. Now, you wait patiently here for a little time; I’m going away to see a lady.

We will get a better place for you than this.” Thank you, sir; but please, sir, would you like to hear me sing a little hymn? Bruised, battered, forlorn, friendless, motherless, hiding away from an infuriated father, he had a little hymn to sing. “Yes, I will hear you sing your little hymn.” He raised himself on his elbow and then sang:

“Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,
Look upon a little child;
Suffer me to come to Thee.
Fain would I to Thee be brought,
Gracious Lord, forbid it not;
In the kingdom of thy grace
Give a little child a place.”

“That’s the little hymn, sir. Good-bye.” The gentleman went away, came back again in less than two hours, and climbed the ladder. There were the chips, and there was the little boy with one hand by his side, and the other tucked in his bosom, underneath the little ragged shirt dead. — John B. Cough.

INSTANTLY HEALED OF RUPTURE

During the fall of 1888 we witnessed the remarkable healing of Brother J.S. Whiting, then a pastor at Hilliards, Mich. The night of his cure we were wonderfully led out in prayer. We give the circumstances in his own words, as published in the Holiness Record a short time afterwards.

He says: “About three weeks after my conversion the Lord told me to go preach His gospel. I obeyed the call the best I could, but have been trying to believe that I could work in the mill through the week and just preach on Sunday; but found that the Lord wanted me to give up all and work for Him. Still I hesitated. About one year ago, while about my work, I fell, and ruptured myself so very badly that I could not stand on my feet without a truss, and sometimes even that was not sufficient, and I had to lie on my back.

“Last Thursday night, while I was preaching, my rupture began to pain me so badly that I had to stop and let Brother Shaw finish. That night we went to stay with one of the members. I suffered a great deal of pain all the next day. When night came, it rained so hard we could not have any meeting, so remained where we were. During the evening I lay on the couch, as I was unable to be on my feet, or even sit up with any comfort. Finally Brother Shaw said: ‘Let us pray’ At first I thought I could not get on my knees, but with the Lord’s help I got down, and began to pray for God to heal my body. Then I thought something said: ‘Get up, and take off your truss.’ So I got up, and took it off, and went to the stove, opened the door, and threw it into the fire, as I felt clearly directed to do. Then God came and made a sound man of me. I can jump and praise Him now, and all is right.”

From what he told us, we think the Lord has done more for him than would be inferred from his words. We were with him one week before his healing, and a few days after, and certainly God wrought a most wonderful cure in his case. When we met him months afterward, we found him still well and sound. May God use this and other similar cases to inspire faith in others.

INSTANTANEOUSLY HEALED

Brother E. B. Williams, of Warren, Ill., writes us of instantaneous recovery of a woman in answer to prayer as follows “In the year 1830, in the town of Shelby, Orleans county N.Y., a woman of middle age lay very sick for a time under the doctor’s care without any benefit and pronounced by all as incurable As I was praying one morning in church, without thinking of the case, there came a voice to me from some source which was as distinct as a man could speak, saying: ‘Go, and pray with and for that woman.’ I went to her home the next week, and tried to make her comfortable. She was apparently in a dreamy state. I left the house without prayer, and thought no more of it, until a day or two after, when father and I went to the same place on business.

She saw me and beckoned me to come to her, and I did so. She whispered to me, asking why I did not pray for her the other day, and added: “Something told me thee came to pray for me,’ (she was a Quaker.) I told her I was sent to do so, but diffidence and timidity prevented at that time. I felt no call to pray then but a day or two after, while I was alone and going by the place, without thought on the subject, the words came to me again, as plain as man could speak them: ‘Go, and pray for that woman’ I went in, and called the family together and while we engaged in prayer, an invisible power was felt by all in the house, and that woman was healed at once, and was well.”

INSTANCES OF DIVINE POWER

In the spring of 1858, during the prevalence of the wide-spread revivals described in Prime’s “Power of Prayer,” I was soundly converted to God. At that time I was in mature young manhood, and in business. My health had been poor for a number of years, and when I gave my heart to the Lord Jesus, I appeared to myself to be standing on the very verge of death and hell.

A short time after the mighty change, I was led to pray for “Hezekiah’s fifteen years.” Hezekiah, the pious king of Judah, was “sick unto death;” but “he turned his face to the wall, and prayed unto the Lord,” and the Lord was pleased to restore him to health, and made him the promise: “I will add unto thy days fifteen years.”

My case occurred long before faith-cure received the attention that it does at present. In fact, nothing special appears to have been known or thought about it in those days. The impression upon my mind was doubtless born of the Holy Spirit. I was not led to pray for restored health, but simply for fifteen years of continued life.

My prayer became very earnest, until it resulted in a settled and grounded faith. I most certainly and most devoutly believed that I should yet live fifteen years. But there was a condition in my mind to the promise. This was, that I should not backslide. I felt that if I turned from the service of the God who had wonderfully saved me, I should soon die.

The promise of God — the witness, if you please — that my life would be spared, was so clear and pronounced, that I scarcely ever thought of doubting it. Indeed, in preaching funeral sermons, and speaking as one naturally would sometimes of the uncertainty of life, in such a way as to include my own, the words would gag my throat, and I would have to use language that was more guarded and more in accordance with what I understood to be the facts in my own case.

Of course, my life went on in fact, nothing could destroy it while I carefully kept the one only condition-that of fidelity to God But at no time was I impressed or permitted to make any public statement of my assurance, or, indeed, in private, except in possibly a couple of instances, where I thought special good might be the result.

The result was, I not only lived fifteen years — years added to my natural allotment — but also, I am now actually considerably advanced on my third fifteenth year! The last fact indicated is no doubt a result of the many prayers of the people of God, as well as my own, that my days of usefulness might still be lengthened out. To God be everlasting glory!

2. I received my first appointment to a pastoral work by Bishop Simpson, in 1860. It was to a comparatively new work, on the northern border of the great “North woods,” and not far from the Adirondacks, in the State of New York. It was a lumber region.

There were two lakes, the Upper and Lower Chateaugay, and a river, the Chateaugay, running out from them northward until it crossed the frontier, and emptied into the river St. Lawrence. On the east side of the lower lake was an isolated neighborhood, having a schoolhouse. I learned that the gospel was not preached there at all. I was therefore led to send an appointment into the neighborhood for a meeting. It was to be held at a certain hour in the afternoon. This was during the latter part of the summer of 1860.

When the day came for filling the appointment, about a dozen of us started up the river toward the lake, in a boat. The most of the company went for the pleasure of going, but I went solely to preach the gospel of the Son of God.

The boat was moved with oars; there was a sail, but this was use while we were in the river. It was a considerable distance up the river, perhaps a mile. But there was a boom in the whole distance up to the lake, and this, added to the facts that the river was very narrow, and there were logs on one side of the boom a large part of the way, made our progress very slow.

As we at last emerged from the river into the lake, with two miles of lake between us and my appointment, I looked at my watch, and saw at once that by rowing we could not reach the school house in time. There was no wind, so the sail could not be used. I sat in the stern of the boat, and thought. Being late to meeting was particularly obnoxious to me; what should be done?

I prayed. Prayer always brings us out right; praise God! I said nothing to the company, but simply prayed. As I prayed I began to believe. Believe what? That the wind would spring up, so that I could get to the school-house on time. And, sure enough in a very short time the breeze began, at first very gently, and then increasing, until it became almost a gale. The sail was quickly unfurled, and we scud through that little lake at a wonderful speed. Arriving at the shore, the waves ran so high that it was with some difficulty we could safely land.

The result was, myself and wife arrived at the school-house before any of the congregation. In due time the people were on hand, and I had the pleasure of dealing out to them the saving word of God.

There was no wind, but there was a pressing necessity for it. Prayer was made, faith was exercised, and the wind came. Was it a miracle? That is what I call it — call it what you will. Praise God!

3. In 1882, I received an invitation to assist Brother S. B. Shaw, the editor of this book, in a series of campmeetings in the State of Michigan. I accepted the invitation, and was at several of the meetings. I was in those years as now, conducting the “Christian Harvester,” and depended on subscriptions, etc., received during the campmeeting seasons, for the means of buying a stock of paper, which was usually needed along in the month of September of each year.

This year, for some reason or other, I received but little money at the meetings though souls were saved and sanctified and arrived at my home in Ohio with the usual need of paper, and no money to buy it with. I went to God with my need-his need. He inspired my faith that the money should come. At that time of the year comparatively little money was wont to come in through the mails; but soon after praying, they began to bring in unusual amounts.

One man in Illinois sent me twenty dollars — a man who was an entire stranger possibly he had seen me, but I did not remember him. All he asked in return for the money was a year’s subscription to the Harvester, and that I should pray for him.

The unusual in flow of money continued until a sufficient amount was received to pay for the stock of paper then it immediately stopped. Sammy Hick, the eccentric Yorkshire local preacher, had faith for a wind to grind out his wheat, the flour being needed to feed the people who were coming to the “quarterly-meeting;” and the moment Sammy’s grist was ground the wind ceased, and none of the neighbors could get any grinding — unless, as the miller said, they had Sammy’s faith. So in my case — and showing that it was a matter of pure faith, and not in the usual order of things-when money enough came to supply the need, further supply was immediately withheld. Again, to God be all the glory! Amen. — Thos. K. Daly.

IN INDIA — IN ANSWER TO PRAYER

The following very interesting account was written by request, expressly for this book. The author was a missionary of the Methodist Episcopal Church in India for a number of years. He is, at the date of our publication, pastor at Huntington, O.: In January, 1888, my devoted wife, since gone to glory and myself, were appointed by Bishop Thoburn to open work in a district of the native state of Hyderabad, India.

Our parish embraced more than a thousand towns and villages, over a million souls — a district practically untouched Christian evangelism. Full of faith in God, the missionaries cheerfully proceeded to the new field of conflict. Six months later. visited for the third time, Kinnal, a village of probably souls, sixty miles from our center, for the purpose of supervising a day-school and Sunday school, recently begun, preaching the gospel to the people.

We had not a single Christian convert in the village except Andronika, our native teacher, and his young wife and these were imported for the purpose intimated. Weary from our long bullock-cart ride, we spent an h6ur in rest and at dinner, after which the school work was after. At five o’clock the people were called together to hear a short gospel talk, and witness the first Christian baptismal service they had probably ever seen.

Nearly the entire village, in an amazingly brief time, had congregated in the street just in front of our little mission-room, which we had –recently purchased for thirty rupees ($10).

The village was just being scourged by those deadly diseases, cholera and small-pox, and the deluded natives had sacrificed nearly all their poultry, sheep, goats, and much fruit, to appease the anger of their imaginary deities; and still the scourge went on. For eight months there had been no rainfall, and the people were in a semi-starved condition, and hence a ready prey to these virulent diseases. It is need. less to say that our simple discourse upon “Jesus, the all-sufficient sacrifice,” had many eager listeners in this sad, spirit-broken assembly.

Then followed a scene we shall never forget. Just in front of the missionary and his companion stood Andronika and his wife presenting their little babe for Christian baptism. Before the ceremony was finished, a man of the weaver’s caste prostrated himself before us, preparatory to the making of an urgent appeal. We beckoned him to wait until the close of the service. Then, after another prostration, the poor fellow advanced to make his request.

With a sad expression on his face and tremulous voice, he proceeded to say: “My wife is dying. For four days I have been breaking coconuts and making poojahs, and my wife has been growing worse all the time; now I beg of you — to pray to your God, to see if he will hear and save my wife!” We were conducted by the sad husband into a little mud hut near by, followed by the multitude. There lay the poor wife, unconscious and moaning.

A brief examination all the broken-hearted husband had said. It was quite evident that the case was beyond human help. An indescribable burden came upon my soul while contemplating the situation. I turned to my dear wife and said: “There no use giving this woman any medicine; it is too late, I can do nothing for her. Only God can help her. And if the purpose of the miracle on Mount Carmel, in answer to the prayer of Elijah, was to vindicate God’s cause before the worshipers of Baal, may not the Lord raise this woman to health, to vindicate himself in this province of a million devotees to false gods?” Her answer (I’ll never forget it) was: “According thy faith be it unto thee.”

Then I said to the husband: “Jesus Christ, who is the only God, can save your wife if he thinks best. Now if he cures her, will you then forever renounce your idols, and worship Jesus Christ only?” – A moment of intense anxiety, and his aged mother rushed up to him, and plead with him in tears to answer in the negative.

He replied: “I can make better answer after she is cured.” But I insisted that I could not feel justified in asking my Savior to interfere in his behalf, unless he was willing to answer the question in the affirmative, and worship Jesus if he showed Himself by His superior power to be God.’ Then there came to the poor tried soul another awful struggle.

All his relatives and the priests gathered around him and tried to persuade him that it would be better for his to die than that he should mal- such a promise.- Another moment of awful suspense, and the brave soul turned answered: “Houdu” (“yes,” in the Canarese tongue) Jesus Christ can save my wife, it shows that what you right — my gods are false, and I ought then to Christ”With eyes uplifted, we prayed the dear Lord to get Himself a great name among these benighted souls. Oh what a baptism of assurance came into our souls!We turned immediately to go away, and in less than a minute the excited husband came rushing after us, “Jesus Christ, He is God! My wife is well and began, in every conceivable way, to express his gratitude.

Till nearly midnight the voice of that joyful man, up and down the narrow streets of the village, was heard crying: “Jesus Christ, He is the only true God!” Towards morning, a copious shower of rain fell, and the natives said: “It is because the missionary is praying.” At five o’clock next morning, we left the village, with hundreds of its grateful people following in procession, to do honor to those whom they said brought so much blessing to their village.

For miles they followed, and not until we earnestly remonstrated, did they turn back. We believe that that event of providence will be blessed to the salvation not only of hundreds in that village, but to many in other places; or among those who witnessed what has been related, were more than a score who had been sent from adjoining villages to induce, if possible, the missionary to begin work in their towns. These may for a time continue in heathenism, but they will not forget the strange Power which wrought such wonders before their eyes. Praise the Lord for His wonderful goodness! — A.E. Winter.