WE must not forget that Mary Slessor had enjoyed the great blessing of a christian mother, who though her own path had often been one of trial and difficulty, had done her utmost to train her children for the Lord.
Mary, who was far from strong, was even from early childhood thoughtful beyond her years; not that she was remarkably grave or grown-up in her ways. Her love of fun often came very near getting her into trouble, though her affectionate disposition made her really sorry if by her thoughtlessness she had given pain to any one she really loved.
It might have been said of her, as of Timothy of old, "From a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus." (2 Tim. 3:1515And that from a child thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus. (2 Timothy 3:15).) But though she knew the way of salvation, and could repeat many hymns and portions of scripture, she did not seem to feel her need, as a lost and guilty sinner, of a Savior; and it was not the sweet story of His love that led to her awakening.
If we want to know how she was converted, we must again take a peep into the humble room mentioned in our last chapter.
The winter's night seemed more than usually cold and cheerless, as the great bell of the weaving factory rang the welcome hour of six; the gates were thrown open, and some hundreds of workpeople poured out. The streets were wet and sloppy, and the lamps shone with a dim, feeble glimmer through the thick mist that hung like a heavy curtain over the town.
But the widow, whose home was just one humble room, felt that even the cheerless outlook might be for her a God-given opportunity. She had swept up her hearth and put a fresh supply of peat on the fire, that blazed and crackled cheerfully. "They'll be here in a minute, and it's a bad night," she said half aloud, as the sound of young voices reached her. Throwing her door wide open as a group of girls, of whom Mary was one, passed, she invited them to enter and have a warm before going to their homes.
Mary even as a girl had a great deal of influence over her companions, who looked up to her as a leader, though perhaps they might not have found it quite easy to explain why they did so. She accepted the kindly given invitation; seats could not be found for all, but as they did not intend to stay long no one minded, as they warmed their chilled hands by the cheery blaze, and talked over the news of the day or the doings in the weaving shed.
But the widow would not let the girls depart without a faithful word of warning. Her object lesson was close at hand. "Do ye see that blaze?" she exclaimed so suddenly that a silence fell upon the group, as she continued, "If ye were to put your hand into it, it would burn ye sair; but if ye do not repent of your sins and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, your souls will burn forever and ever in the fire of God's wrath.”
No more was said, and Mary went home; but tired as she was with a long day's work, there was no sleep for her that night. The arrow of conviction had entered her soul; unseen things had become strangely real. She might die, and " after death the judgment,' and she trembled at the thought of having to meet a holy God.
At last she could bear the misery no longer, and the prayer, "O God, for Christ's sake, be merciful to me a sinner," rose from her burdened heart. She simply believed what God had said in His word, and peace and joy filled her soul.
Years after, in telling the story of her conversion, she said, “I was saved as by fire. Fear drove me into the kingdom; but when I came to Christ, I found His rule was one of love. I proved that His yoke was easy, and His burden light. For her, old things had passed away, all things had become new. Her Bible seemed a new book, and she searched and studied it with real delight. For other reading she had but little time, except by carrying a book in her lunch-basket and, when the light permitted, reading on her way to and from work; or during her long hours of daily toil, by placing it open on her loom, and getting a glimpse at it as she passed to and fro, she managed to read a number of useful and interesting books which friends were always willing to lend her.
But in all her reading the Bible had the largest place. To a young girl who worked near her at the loom, and who had asked her for something to read, she offered her Bible, saying, "Read this book, it has made a different lassie of me.”
She longed to do something for the Savior who had done so much for her, and she began to teach a class of "lovable little lassies" in the Sunday School. She also became a regular helper in the work of taking a gospel paper, called the Monthly Visitor, to the houses of people living in one of the lowest parts of the town. In this way she got to know quite a number of very poor people, and, young as she was, what she had known of sorrow helped her to understand and enter into their troubles.
Her heart often ached over the crowd of hatless, shoeless children who poured out from the courts and alleys around. They were rough, wild and dirty, but she loved them, and longed to do something for them; and when a mission and week-night school was opened in a very poor neighborhood, she became one of the first teachers.