Although Mrs. Wheaton has visited every state in the Union many times during her fifteen years of missionary work, she has been in a sleeping car but once. Railroads give her passes. She has no property, and, of course, can collect no money from convicts, though occasionally she receives a contribution on trains.
"The trouble of it all," said she after her talk with the man in the bridewell, "is not in the prisons. It is after the convicts get out. For that, humanity is to blame. Prisoners have not much hope, and some of them accept religion in a tentative sort of way.
"When they are released they are hounded by the police, marked by all citizens as ostracized men, unable to get employment, and, in fact, the second termers tell me they are reduced almost to the necessity of choosing between starvation and stealing. Those whose conversion is real do neither, because no man need ever starve in this country, but the weak go under and are brought back to jail. What the world needs is more Christian charity. We should forgive, as our Saviour did, seventy times seven."
In addition to her charm as a speaker, Mrs. Wheaton is a singer of no mean ability. She is not a believer in men who accept religion for the sake of business and put on a sanctimonious air. The view that she takes of life meets with favor among the convicts, and she sings a song called "The Twin Ballots," which illustrates her opinion on the temperance question. The song is about two rum votes that sanctioned the license plan, "but one was cast by a cunning brewer and one by a Sunday-school man."
The evangelist left last night for Pittsburg, but will return next week. She said she wished to impress upon people the fact that converted prisoners are not hypocrites, although the guards often suspect insincerity and treat a converted man worse than any other, because they think he is seeking to curry favor.—A Chicago paper.
A Disgraceful Proceeding.
Thursday afternoon, Mrs. Elizabeth R. Wheaton, the noted prison evangelist, accompanied by a sister, asked permission from a policeman, which was granted, to hold a street meeting for religious purposes.
After singing some hymns, which, from their superior rendition, attracted a large crowd, Mrs. Wheaton, an elderly lady who has devoted seven years of her time entirely to prison evangelical work, began an earnest exhortation to sinners. After preaching for a few minutes Officer C. came up and said that the mayor had ordered him to put a stop to the proceedings.
Mrs. Wheaton said she would do her duty without fear of man and continued for a moment longer. Then the party knelt on the snow and began to pray for the mayor and the policeman. While they were praying the officer came up closely followed by Mayor J., and roughly pushed Mrs. Wheaton over. The mayor with fire in his eye as well as his complexion, spoke in a very rude manner to the ladies, practically endorsing the rough treatment already accorded the party.
Mrs. Wheaton showed The Dispatch credentials from very high sources and a very bulky bundle of railroad passes which gave substantial evidence of the manner in which she and her work are regarded elsewhere.