PSYCHOLOGY
Now, science could not cure this case; all that science could do had been done for him. He had become so low that if he saw his children starving and he had ten cents, the money went to the saloon and not for bread. It is, as Professor James says, that “Conversion is the only means by which a radically bad man can be changed into a radically good person.” The agencies in any conversion are first prayer, then the Holy Spirit and the word of God. This man was so far gone that he did not believe in the existence of God. But the sympathy of the workers made them pray most earnestly for God's Spirit, which came with convicting power. The verse of Scripture which came like a wireless message to his soul was, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” He claimed and still claims the last clause as a message to him personally.
The reason that hundreds of sermons fail to comfort a saint or convert a sinner is because they fall on prayerless pews. You remember how what is known as the Great New England Revival came about. Dr. Jonathan Edwards was accustomed to go to his church every Saturday afternoon to think and to pray for his people.
On one occasion a beggar, known in the town as Old Betty, sat unseen in a back pew. The great preacher put his head down on the Bible and sobbed. As he came out Old Betty said, “What is it, Dr. Edwards, that so troubles you?” “Betty, I have not seen a soul converted in this church for a year. Why is it?” “It is because these pews are prayerless.” “Will you pray till you get the answer that God will come in power to this church?” “I will.” Betty hid when the janitor came to close the church, and the answer to her soul did not come till the dawning of the morning.
The following day Dr. Edwards started as usual to read his sermon, but he soon put it away and began a straight evangelistic talk, professed Christians stood in their places and asked for prayers, elders and deacons prostrated themselves before God, the whole town became a prayer circle, and the New England Revival had begun.
CHAPTER V
Big Feet
One day a very large man, well over sixty years, and with three fingers off each hand, in a very modest way said to me, “I am so ashamed to tell a lady my needs,” and he turned up his foot and showed me where the sole was worn out, so that at every step he made he left a track in blood. “You poor fellow, you need not be ashamed to tell me of need like that. I shall arrange for you to stay at the Mission till I get shoes for you.”
He was of the class who sell shoestrings and pencils, but in very cold weather people do not stop to buy from street merchants. That night, after the midweek service of my church, I rose in my place and asked for a pair of shoes number 9½ or 10. The men hooted, no one of them ever wore that size, declaring, of course, that I wanted them to wear myself.
“Well,” I said, “whether you wear them or not, you get them for me,” and I told the story of the bleeding feet. I did the same at my boarding house. By the next day one of the elders of the church came with two pairs of shoes which looked nearly big enough for boats, also one of the men of the boarding house sent to Annapolis to his father, a very large man, for a pair of shoes, which came to me by express. I put the three pairs into a basket and rushed to the Mission, when lo! the poor man could barely get his toes into the shoes. With trembling lip, he said, “It is simply disgraceful to be old and poor and so awful big that even one's friends cannot help a fellow.” “Indeed, it is no disgrace to be old, poor and big, but it is a disgrace to be a bad man of any size or age. Don't you worry, I shall find the shoes.”
That afternoon I met a Board composed mostly of men eminent in city affairs, among them was a distinguished lawyer, a very large man. He sat with his foot across one knee, when I leaned over and said, “Brother, would you mind walking home in your hose, and giving me those shoes for a poor chap as large as you are?” “Do you really mean it?” “Yes, I do; only I will let you wear them home, then send them to me with hose, under clothes, and any other clothing you can spare.”
By the next morning I had clothing for the poor fellow, and Mr. G.'s number 11 shoes fit as if made to order.
If the poor man had successfully sold pencils and shoestrings all winter he could not have been so well clothed as he was that day. But, best of all, while he was obliged to wait he read the four Gospels through several times, and he sought and found salvation in Jesus Christ. That was November, 1911. Since that he has gotten a place as night watchman in a large building, and he is a good and faithful man.
In Missions we have a large number of deserted wives with children, whom we clothe. By that help they can by their own labor keep their little families together, and then on every holiday, such as Christmas, Thanksgiving, etc., we bring them all to the Mission for reunion and a big dinner. The joyous seasons for the rich are the saddest times for the poor and the bereaved. It is such a privilege to be the administrators of the church people who send money and clothing for these purposes. In return, the Missions are the real protection of the city. A hungry man is dangerous, and a man with a hungry family is a menace.
My maid told me, one extreme cold day, that a man was at the door to see me. I found there one of the most dangerous housebreakers in the country. “Murphy,” I said, “I do not want to see any of you men at my home. What do you want?” “I am starving.” “Well, go to the Mission, we never turn a man away there.” “I wouldn't be caught dead there.” “Why not?” “Well, I hate Kline (the Superintendent) and the whole outfit, but I am starving, I tell you.”
I knew by that he had been stealing at the Mission. Thieves fold up the sheets and pillow-cases, even when they have been entertaining free, put the bedding under their coats and get away with it. In time we get to know them and will not put them in the dormitories, but only in the barracks fitted with shelving but with no pillows or covers, but fire is kept all night. The bath and toilet-room adjoins or is part of the barracks, so that men are made comfortable. I took Murphy to an eating house near by and filled him up, but at the same time warning him to get out of town as soon as possible or change his course and become a good man. Now, if that man had not been given food he would surely have gotten it, if it cost a human life. Bad as he was, he would have been fed had he gone to the Mission. I feared he would not go, but would commit some depredation. Speaking of thieves, reminds me of the case of a man whom I shall call