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THE SECRET OF JAMES CAUGHEY’S WONDERFUL SUCCESS

This wonderful evangelist was known to only a few of the present generation. He died at a good old age in New Brunswick, N.J., but two or three years before the publication of this book.

In one of his books, Mr. Caughey says: “I am now fully persuaded that in proportion as the Spirit of God shall condescend to second my efforts in the gospel message, I shall be successful. No man has ever been signally used in winning souls to Christ without the help of the Spirit. With it, the humblest talent may astonish earth and hell, by gathering into the path of life thousands for the skies; while, without it, the finest, the most splendid talents, remain comparatively useless”

Mr. Caughey was called of God to visit England and Ireland, in which countries he labored seven years with the most signal success. During this time, ” nearly twenty-two thousand persons professed conversion under his immediate labors, and nearly ten thousand entered into the rest of full salvation.” He gives the following account of his call, in a letter to a friend, from which we extract as follows

“You will remember our Conference of 1839 was held in the city of Schenectady, N. V. That year I was appointed to Whitehall, N. V. Shortly after, I had my library study furniture forwarded to my station.

“It was then I began seriously to reflect upon the propriety of choosing a wife, believing that ‘marriage is honorable in all men.’ I had traveled a number of years, studied hard, and expended all my time and strength in winning souls to Christ. My brethren approved of my intention. But while indulging in this purpose-for some reasons I could not explain-my heart became very hard. The Lord seemed to depart from me; and that countenance, which so often beamed upon me from above, and had daily, for many years, brightened my soul into rapturous joy, appeared now to be mantled in the thickest gloom.

“The more I reflected thus: ‘I can see no good reason why I should be singular among my brethren, nor continue to lead this solitary life, my heart became harder, and my dark-ness increased. I was soon involved in a variety of evil reasonings. My will seemed to be in a conflict with some-thing invisible. God, who had honored me with such intimate communion with himself since my conversion, apparently left me to battle it out alone. So it appeared to me then; but now I see God himself was contending with me. I was about to step out of the order of his providence; and he was resolved to prevent it, unless I should refuse to understand why he thus resisted me. Had I continued the conflict, I believe he would have let me take my own course; nor would he have
cast me off; yet I solemnly feel he would have severely chastised my disobedience.

“My distress and gloom were so great, I could not unpack my library, nor arrange my study. I began to reflect most solemnly upon my unhappy state of mind, and became more concerned to regain my former peace and joy in God, than to obtain any temporal blessing whatever. The world was a blank, a bleak and howling wilderness, to my soul, without the smiles of my Savior. In fact, that I could not live, but must wither away from the face of the earth, without his comforting and satisfying presence. Like a well-chastised son, I came back to the feet of my Heavenly Father, and with many tears I besought him to reveal his face to my soul; that if my purposes were crossing his to show me; and whatever was his will, I would at once, by his help, yield my soul unto it. “Lord God,” I said, “if my will crosses thy will, then my will must be wrong; for thine cannot but be right.” Now I cared not what he commanded me to do, or to leave undone; I stood ready to obey. I felt assured clear light from God on some points would soon reach my soul; and I was fully prepared for it. But I no more expected such an order as came soon after, than I expected he would command me to fly upward and preach the gospel in another planet. During three days I cried to God, without any answer. On the third day, in the afternoon, I obtained an audience with the Lord. The place was almost as lonely as Sinai, where Moses saw the burning bush. It was under open sky, a considerable distance from the habitations of men; steep rocks and mountains, deep forests, and venomous reptiles, surrounded me. Here, and in a moment, the following passage was given me to plead: “And the Lord descended in the cloud, and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the Lord. And the Lord passed by before him, and proclaimed: “The Lord, The Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and transgression, and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty.” — Exodus 34: 5-7. I took hold of this; many of the words were as fire, and as a hammer to break the rocks in pieces before the Lord. The fountains of tears were opened, and the great deep of my heart was broken up. I left the place, however, without receiving any light; but my heart was fully softened and subdued, and I felt assured I had prevailed in some way with God. I was confident light and direction were coming; but of what nature I could not tell.

“This was on the 9th of July,1839. The same evening, about twilight, eternal glory be to God! When reading in, small, room adjoining my study, a light, as I conceived from heaven, reached me. . My soul was singularly calmed and warned by a strange visitation. In a moment I recognized the change; the following, in substance, was spoken to my heart; but in a manner, and with a rapidity, I cannot possibly describe. Every ray of Divine glory seemed to be a word that the eye of my soul could read, a sentence which my judgment could perceive and understand: ‘These matters which trouble thee must be let entirely alone. The will of God is, that thou shouldst visit Europe. He shall be with thee there, and give thee many seals to thy ministry. He has provided thee with funds. Make thy arrangements accordingly; and, next Conference, ask liberty from the proper authorities, and it shall be granted thee. Visit Canada first; when this is done, sail for England. God shall be with thee there, and thou shalt have no want in all thy journeyings; and thou shalt be brought back in safety again to America’

‘I arose from my knees under a strong conviction that God had called me to take this tour. Letters were written immediately to Canada, etc. The next day my soul was calm and happy. My books were unpacked, and everything in my study arranged with a glad heart and free. Eleven months were before me, to criticize the impressions on my soul.

With delight I commenced my pastoral work, visited from house to house, and had the pleasure of seeing a most powerful revival of religion in my circuit. During this period not the least wish entered my heart to form any connection or engagement whatever that would entangle or hinder me from fulfilling what I conceived to be the high and solemn commission I had received from the Lord. I continued to resign the whole matter to God, entreating him to overrule all to his glory, and to hedge up my way if it were not his will I should leave America.”

THE QUAKER WHO REFUSED TO FIGHT

We clip the following from Lossing’s Pictorial Field Book of the Civil War, Vol. 3, p. 79. It is certainly a remarkable evidence of God’s power to deliver them that put their trust in him. — Editor.

There were some Friends or Quakers from South Carolina in the battle at Gettysburg, who were forced into the ranks, but who, from the beginning to the end, refused to fight. They were from Guilford county, which was mostly settled by their sect, and as the writer can testify by personal observation, presented the only region in that state where the evidences of thrift, which free labor gave in a land cursed by slavery, might be seen. These excellent people were robbed and plundered by the Confederates without mercy. About a dozen of them were in Lee’s army at Gettysburg and were among the prisoners captured there. They had steadily borne practical testimony to the strength of their principles in opposing war. They were subjected to great cruelties.

One of them who refused to fight was ordered by his colonel to be shot. A squad of twelve men were drawn up to shoot him. They loved him as a brother because of his goodness, and when ordered to fire every man refused. The remainder of the company was called up and ordered to shoot the first twelve if they did not execute the order. The intended victim folded his hands, and raised his eyes, and said: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” The entire company threw down their muskets and refused to obey the order. Their exasperated captain, with a horrid oath, tried to shoot him with his pistol. The cap would not explode. Then he dashed upon him with his horse, but the meek conscript was unharmed. Just then a charge of some of Mead’s troops drove the Confederates from their position, and the Quaker became a prisoner. He and his co-religionists were sent to Fort Delaware, when the fact was made known to some of their sect in Philadelphia. It was laid before the President, and he ordered their release.

The PRODIGAL

Theodore Clapp, for many years a minister of religion in the city of New Orleans, narrates the following incident, which occurred within his experience:Several years ago there was a lady, mother-, residing in one of the Northern States, distinguished for her wealth, social position, and religious character. She had a favorite son, for whose advancement in life great efforts had been made. But notwithstanding, he became a profligate and vagabond. I had known the youth in our school-boy days.

The mother addressed to me a letter concerning her lost child. From the latest information she believed that he was wandering in the Southern States. She besought me, if I should meet the hapless fugitive, to acquaint her with the facts, and extend to him such offices of kindness as I might judge expedient. A few days after the receipt of this letter, the young prodigal made his appearance in New Orleans, and found his way to my study. He was in a most woeful plight, both physically and morally. In manners he was rude, audacious, and grossly profane. He wanted money. “Money will do you no good,” said I, “unless you reform your life.” “Reform! ” repeated he; “it is impossible. It is entirely too late. I have no hope; I can never retrieve my steps. I have nothing to live for. I am the execration of all who kn6w me. I have not a friend left in the wide world.”

On his saying this I went to my desk, and took out the letter from his mother. Showing him the superscription, I asked him if he knew the hand-writing. A change came over his manner. He replied with a thoughtful air: “It is my dear mother’s.” I opened the letter, and read to him a single paragraph; and this was-the sentence I read to him “O my Heavenly Father, I beseech Thee to preserve, forgive, and redeem my poor lost child; in Thy infinite mercy, be pleased to restore him to my embrace, and to the joys of sincere repentance.” In a moment he seemed as if struck by some unseen power. He sank down upon his chair, burst into tears, sobbed aloud, and convulsively exclaimed: “O God, forgive my base ingratitude to that beloved mother!

Yes, the thought of that fond parent, in a far-distant and dishonored home, who cherished for him an undying affection, who overlooked all his baseness, who never failed to mingle his outcast name with her morning and evening prayers, the thought of such tenderness broke his obdurate heart, and the waters of penitence rushed forth. From that hour he was a reformed man. He is now an inhabitant of his native place, shedding around him the blessed influence of a sober, useful, and exemplary life. — Mother, Home, and Heaven.

THE MIDNIGHT CONFLICT

Shall I repeat a true story told me by the sufferer himself a few weeks ago? And may I repeat it, so far as memory serves me, in his own language? I can never forget the passionate energy of my friend, as he walked again in the darkened chambers of a wrecked life, and recalled the scene when alone he met the tempter. But to the story.

“I left my New England home in boyhood. As I kissed my mother good-bye, she put her hand on either side of my cheeks, and said: “You are pure now, my son. Ever keep your soul sweet and clean, and never touch a glass of intoxicating liquor.’ The pledge I then made to her I kept under strong temptations, and in circumstances that severely tried my good resolutions. Serving through the war, I came out with a cough that threatened quick-consumption. My physician recommended cod-liver oil and whiskey. I took his prescription. The former cured me of one disease; the latter brought on one of deeper and deadlier nature.

Yet I was not conscious of it, till one day a friend roused me with the words: “Major, you must be careful. You are bringing disgrace to your family.” I was shocked, and resolved that this should never be said of me again; but I still pursued the vile way
.

“A little later, my brother repeated the warning, and I pledged him that I would heed his kindly words. That pledge was broken. I had a delightful home, was blessed with wife and children, and to her wifely pleading I again said: “I’ll drink no more,” and went on to disgrace the name she bore.

“One morning as I passed the open door of my daughter’s room, I saw her on her bended knees, and heard her sweet voice crying out: “O God, spare my father, and save him from a drunkard’s grave.” Then and there, I vowed before God that I would never drink again. I was drunk before night! A little later I was summoned to see a loving sister that was sick. I hastened to her bedside only to find in a darkened room her dead body. As I leaned over that marble form, and my tears fell on her cold cheeks, there, with clasped hands, alone with the dead, I told my God that the cup should never again soil my lips. In three days I was as bad as ever! At last, in a fit of desperation, I sent for my father and mother to visit my home, securing for them a palace car, making their long journey as pleasant as possible.

They came to my charming home to meet their drunkard son. The dear mother begged and prayed with and for me, that my purity might be restored. “After their return, with the echo of her agonizing petition sounding in my ears, I said: “I will once more take the pledge, and if broken now, I will go to the Pacific coast, leaving wife and children, to hide myself where they shall never hear of me again. “With this came the resolve to invite in a few friends to take one more social glass together, and then to sign the pledge. I sent to Boston for the choicest liquors, and one night when I had been left alone in the house, invited them in. For an hour I waited, and no one came. I paced the floor, and looked out into the moonlight, longing for their presence, that I might satisfy the appetite that began to clamor.

“And the clock struck nine, and no friends came. Then rushed into my soul visions of my childhood, and the voice of my mother sounded out: “‘Keep your soul pure and clean, my son;” and her words of tenderness awakened memories that had long been sealed. I opened the Bible, and read: ‘No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God.” Ah! Does that mean me? Closing the book I paced the room, and longed for companionship, that these busy thoughts might be dispelled, and the clock struck ten. I listened for voices, but there was quiet everywhere save in my own tempest-tossed soul. Then it flashed upon me that alone I must meet the tempter, and alone take the promised pledge. I reached out my hand to unseal the bottle that never looked so attractive, when a voice seemed to sound. “Let it remain untouched-now is the decisive hour;” and again I paced the room, and again with greater force, appetite begged for satisfaction. The struggle began to be more bitter, the tempter made a heavier assault, the hour dragged wearily along, and the clock struck eleven. Then I felt that the next hour must be the point on which my destiny for eternity was poised. For I was impressed by the thought that if I could resist the tempter until midnight, in some way, I knew not how, God would bring to me a way of escape. Oh, how I longed to break the bottle, the contents of which were more attractive than anything on earth; and yet that voice sounded out: “Touch but a single glass, and you are lost.”‘ Then said the tempter: “Why not drink just once? You have resolved tonight to take the pledge; it will be all right to indulge in a parting farewell to an old friend.”

I again opened the Bible, and read: “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” I fell on my knees, and with the open Bible before me, and the bottle by my side, implored and prayed for strength to hold on till midnight. Oh! how appetite begged and clamored; and yet I was conscious that if I yielded it would be fatal, and my soul would be lost. The minutes dragged along, oh! so slowly, till eleven and a half o’clock, and the voice cried: “Only hold on till twelve, and you are safe.” Fifteen minutes passed, and then came the sorest, bitterest conflict of soul that man ever experienced. I had been in the midst of great physical peril on the battlefield many a time, when death came on the right and on the left in fearful form, but never had been in such deadly danger as now; for it was a conflict with heaven on one side and hell on the other. One who has never been under the maddening control of a master passion cannot realize the agony that can be concentrated, into even a few moments; and so the bitterness of that last fifteen minutes seemed prolonged into hours. Can I hold out? Will this struggle end in life and peace? Will the tempter vanish, a defeated, baffled spirit, and leave me free? Five minutes more and the agony increased, as appetite begged and clamored with tenfold power. There pealed out on the still hour of the night the stroke of the distant clock: one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven-twelve! I leaped to my feet and shouted, Victory! Saved by the grace of God! The burden rolled into the open sepulchre, and I felt that I was saved, and saved forever. I went out on my back piazza, and held the bottle up in the moonlight, and looked at it as calmly as a mother would look at a sleeping child; and then, hurling it upon the pavement, fell upon my knees in glad thanksgiving, and then and there yielded my soul, my life, my all, to Him who had redeemed me with His precious blood. The final stroke of the midnight bell, as it heralded a new day, was the dawn of a new life for me. I was made conscious on the instant, my sins were washed away. From that hour to this I have had no taste or craving for liquor, and my life is devoted to scattering the leaves which shall be for the healing of the nations.”

Such is the story of my friend, who, in a Western city, is today doing service for the Master. Years have passed since that midnight conflict, and his life has been one of consecration, and many a soul has been lifted and inspired by his burning, loving words:

“Touch not, taste not, handle not,” even though it is placed to your lips under the seductive guise of “only a medicine.” — Congregationalist.

THE LORD’S WAY OF SENDING HELP

A few years ago we were led out to pray for means to make a payment on our home, in Grand Rapids, Mich. The amount was one hundred dollars, and it was due in two weeks. We had no way of getting the money; and, realizing the promises of God to be reliable, we laid the matter before the Lord in prayer.At the time, we were holding meetings in the southern part of Michigan. When the answer to prayer came, we wrote home to wife, telling her that we had the evidence beyond every possibility of a doubt, that the Lord would send the money in time.

In a few days we received a letter from a brother in Texas, whom we had only met but once, saying that he was impressed to send us fifty dollars; which was enclosed in the letter. In a short time twenty-five dollars were received from a friend in our own State. The balance came in smaller sums.At the time the obligation was due, the money was on hand, and we praised God for his special help in a time of need. — Editor