Stillwater, Nov. 14, 1888.
Dear Mother Wheaton: I received your letter and it came just right to comfort me, for I am in the hospital. In prison—not alone. In the hospital—not alone. Jesus is always with me. How I love Jesus who died for me! My heart always turns to Him, and when I heard I had to come to the hospital I just prayed to Jesus and left it all to Him, and I am cheerful and happy and hopeful even here. He is the Great Physician.
I can do anything for Jesus' sake but I am in such a queer position! Poor mother has been nearly killed and heart-broken about this, and she claims my presence for a time at least if I get out. Poor mother is nearly worn out but full of faith and hope. May God bless you and be with you forever.
Your son and brother in Christ,
H. R.
Little Rock, Ark., June 10, 1888.
Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton.
Dear Sister: I will take the liberty and let you and Sister M. know who I am. My name is C. S. I guess you remember the coal mines and that evening when I was singing with Sister M. in her book. O I wish I had them songs!
I am so happy in Christ. I am going home to my mother above. I hope it will be very soon. That song
"A Ruler once came to Jesus by night To ask Him the way of salvation and light,"
made me a different man.
O the happy thoughts of a home which Christ our Redeemer has prepared for us and calls us to come to Him. "Come unto me all that are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." O, such a Saviour! Pray for me and I hope we may meet above. I hope to hear from you soon.
From your servant,
C. S.
Little Rock, January 13, 1889.
Mr. J. M. Ryder,
Indianapolis, Ind.
I received your most welcome letter and thank you for the information you have given me, but I haven't heard yet from your sister. The last letter I got she said that she was going to California. At that time she was at Salem, Oregon. Have you heard from her yet? There are some boys and men here would like to hear from her, for she came where some of us could not see the sun in a week, and about 150 feet under the surface of the earth. That was at a coal mine.
We all hope and pray to God, our dear Redeemer, for her to come back to us again.
Please answer this for I am a convict and glad to hear from such friends. In hope to hear soon, I remain,
Yours sincerely,
C. S.
Germantown, Ark., Nov. 29, 1889.
My Dear Sister: I am at Germantown at the present time working on Mr. W. H. Ward's farm or plantation, and the Warden of the camp and the guards are followers of Christ. There are several of the boys with me which were at Coal Hill at the time you were there.
O sister, God worked that all right, His name be praised. One of the Coal Hill wardens got five years in the penitentiary. That is God's work.
God be with you and bless you is my daily prayer, that you will keep strong and well to preach to the poor prisoners and pray for them that they will "flee from the wrath to come." O sister it is terrible to think and study over how the Book of Life tells us about that everlasting torment, and how sweet it is to think that there is a life eternal.
Sister, there are three ways, "a broad road," "a narrow way" and "a highway," that are thus brought to our attention in the Scriptures.
The broad road to destruction, the narrow way to life, the highway to holiness.
"And an highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called the way of holiness; the unclean shall not pass over it; but it shall be for those, the wayfaring man, though fools shall not err therein. No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon; it shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there." Isa. 35: 8, 9. Sister, am I right or wrong?
The first great judgment (trial and sentence) was at the beginning, in Eden, when the whole human race, as represented in its head, Adam, stood on trial before God. The result of that trial was the verdict—guilty, disobedient, unworthy of life; and the penalty inflicted was Death. "Dying, thou shalt die," and so "In Adam all die." But, dear sister, the sweet and dear thought in "Christ we all shall live" is a great comfort to our poor souls. Ours is a rugged, steep and narrow way, and were it not that strength is furnished for each successive step of the journey, we never could reach the goal, but our Captain's word is encouraging: "Be of good courage, I have overcome"; "My grace is sufficient for thee, and my strength is made perfect in weakness." The difficulties of this way are to act as a separating principle to sanctify and refine "a peculiar people," to be "Heirs of God and joint-heirs with Jesus Christ." In view of these things, "let us come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need," "while we fight the good fight of faith and lay hold of the crown of life." Immortality, the divine nature.
Sister, I hope that we may meet together here in this world once more in life so we can talk about what Jesus has wrought, God will be with you. I know He is with me. Sister, I gave myself to Jesus and I feel more satisfied, and how sweet it is to have Jesus with you.
THE DAY IS AT HAND.
"Poor, fainting pilgrim, still hold on thy way, The dawn is near; True, thou art weary now, but yon bright ray Becomes more clear. Bear up a little longer; wait for rest; Yield not to slumber, though with toil oppressed. The night of life is mournful, but look on the judgment near. Soon will earth's shadowed scenes and forms be gone. Yield not to fear. The mountain's summit will, ere long, be gained And the bright world of joy and peace attained. Joyful through hope, thy motto still must be— The dawn is near. What glories will that dawn unfurl to thee! Be of good cheer. Gird up thy loins, bind sandals on thy feet, The way is dark and long, the end is sweet."
I hope to hear soon from you, dear sister. Meet me in heaven. Jesus is with me. Because He cometh to judge the earth, let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice.
Your brother,
C. S.
Germantown, Jan. 27, 1890.
Dear Sister: I received yours of the 28th. I am so glad that you have not forgotten me, and the words which I heard you say, although it is a long time since you said them at Coal Hill. "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved." Acts xvi., 31. Jails are dark, dull, damp, loathsome places even now; but they were worse in the apostolic times. I imagine tonight we are standing in the Philippian Dungeon. Do you not feel the chill? Do you not hear the groan of those incarcerated ones who for ten years have not seen the sunlight, and the deep sigh of women who remember their father's house, and mourn over their wasted estates? Listen again. It is enough. Oh, it is the cough of the consumptive, or the struggle of one in a nightmare of a great horror. You listen again, and hear a culprit, his chains rattling as he rolls over in his dreams, and you say: "God pity the prisoner." But there is another sound in that prison. It is a song of joy and gladness. What a place to sing in. The music comes winding through the corridors of the prison and in all dark wards the whisper is heard: "What's that? What's that?" It was the song of Silas and Paul in prison, and they cannot sleep. Jesus went to prison then, and as you say He will and does come nowadays also to visit the prisoners as they are shut up. God will be and is our helper. I will not fear, He leadeth me in pastures green.
Your brother in Christ,
C. S.