“Go with the name of Jesus to the dying,
And speak the name in all its living power;
Why should thy fainting heart grow cold and weary?
Canst thou not watch with Me one little hour?”
SEVERAL other visits in the neighborhood of Mrs. S—'s had to be paid, and the morning passed quickly. Soon, after twelve o'clock the children coming out of M— Street ragged school gathered round Lizzie, greeting her as quite an old friend. She had a smile and kind word for each, then, with one hasty glance at her watch, passed on, for it was the men's dinner hour, and taking quite a large parcel of gospel books and tracts from her bag, she quickened her steps towards Millwall, where for some time a large party of navvies had been employed on a new dock.
Before I go on with my story I must tell you of one gift Lizzie possessed, in I think, a greater degree than any one I have ever known—a singular fitness for carrying the gospel message among rough men, not in any way taking the place of a teacher. This, we are clearly shown by the word of God, could not be a woman's work; but in numberless quiet ways she would go among them, either singly or when, as often happened during their dinner hour, they were in little knots, and after a few pleasant words about their homes and children, offer scripture portions or gospel books, rarely, if ever, getting one refused.
Sometimes a man would say, "It's no use my taking a book, I don't know how to read." Then she would say, "Oh, I see, you want to hear me read it, only you did not quite like saying so. Go on with your dinner. I don't think we shall be disturbed here." And taking her seat on a log of wood, or more often still a heap of stones, she would read aloud till the ringing of a bell called the men to resume their work, and, as Lizzie rose to go, she would often find she had been surrounded by quite a little group of attentive listeners.
In the later years of her life I have known her enter an East London public-house, and after having asked permission—a permission which it seems almost strange to say was never refused—she would go in and out among the rough, often noisy, men and women, who were standing or seated in the bar, give them tracts and often read or repeat a few Bible words.
One evening a man who was employed in cleaning cans, &c., followed her into the street, saying, “I never had a day's schooling in my life, and I can't read a word in a printed book, more's the pity! but my wife now is quite a scholar, and so fond of reading too; would you please give me a little book for her? she'll read it to me, and be proud to do it." And as a gospel book was gladly given, we may hope that its message was heard by one who seldom, if ever, came within the sound of the preacher's voice.
One winter the distress in Limehouse and Millwall was even greater than usual. A misunderstanding between the shipwrights and their masters had been followed by a strike. Hundreds of men were out of employment, and their wives and families were in great distress; there was a great deal of murmuring and discontent-in some places the men even talked of forcing their old masters to give them higher wages than was really just. I could take my dear young reader into streets where in those days even the police did not care to venture except two or three went together. But in the midst of all the sorrow and confusion Lizzie went quietly on with her work for the Master, visiting the sick and carrying messages of peace and comfort to the sorrowful and lonely.
I asked her once if she was never afraid during those troublous times. She answered, "No; He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty." (Psa. 91:11He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. (Psalm 91:1).) Ah! she had told the secret of her peaceful, happy life—simple, quiet trust in the wisdom and love of God. For her to dwell beneath His shadow was as real as it was blessed.
Her time was very fully occupied. She would, as a rule, leave home about ten o'clock in the morning, and, taking her dinner in a tiny basket, spend the day in visiting, going on in the evening to hold a girls' sewing class, or to cut out work at a mothers' meeting. She was well known, too, in the homes of the sick and in the chambers of the dying.
Lizzie has finished her work now and gone to be forever with the One who loved and gave Himself for her; were it otherwise, I should not be writing the story of her life; but it is sweet to think how some who heard from her lips of a Savior for the guilty and the lost may yet be her joy and crown of rejoicing in the day of Christ's appearing.