Little Abe, or, the Bishop of Berry Brow / Being the Life of Abraham Lockwood

by F. Jewell

"If thaa will n't knug beside the' wife and bairns, I'll go haam agean," said Abe.

The man was conquered; the devil was strong in him, but the father was stronger. He could not bear the thought of paying a slight to his dying child. "I'll knug," said he, and that instant he full on his knees. Abe baptized the child, and then all of them knelt together, while he poured out his soul in earnest supplication to God for the child and the family; but especially for the father who was now, almost for the first time in his life, found humbly kneeling at the throne of grace. It would have been very gratifying if we could say that this was the turning-point in that man's life; but here our knowledge of the case ends. It is, however, not too much to hope that the memory of that sad night, coupled with the loss of the little child, would have a good influence on the subsequent life of the man, and perhaps be the means, under God, of leading him to seek that grace which alone could afford him hope of meeting his child again in the kingdom of glory.

Whether this was so or not, the incident shows the high esteem in which Little Abe was held by the people among whom he lived. We see that he gained a decided advantage over the hardened sinner when he constrained him to kneel before the Lord; and it also shows that when scoffers and so-called unbelievers are brought into the shadows of death, their unbelief forsakes them, and like devils, "they believe and tremble."

It was no uncommon thing for Abe to be called out of the mill to conduct the burial service at Salem, in place of the minister, who perhaps had never been informed of the funeral, or even of the death. No matter, poor man, he has sadly lowered himself in the opinion of the family and friends by not being present. He might have known he would be wanted, and at what time of the day, and in what place, and it is very unkind of him not to be there. Where is he? Poor innocent, he is tramping off to a distant country appointment in simple ignorance of the misdemeanour of which he is guilty. A minister ought to know everything—know who is well and who is not; ministers are different from all other people, and more is expected from them. If, for instance, any one is ill, the doctor must be sent for; but the minister is expected to come without being requested. It is his duty to attend to the sick of his flock. It is no matter whether he knows of the illness or not, he ought to know of it; a pretty shepherd he must be not to know if any of his sheep are ill; he should make inquiries for himself among the people. Are any persons dead here, or any sick? any to be prayed for? or are there any disaffected parties waiting to be coaxed into a good humour? any croakers in want of a good subject to vent their bile upon? or anything at all in the general ministerial way that wants doing? A man could easily find out what is going on, and what is going off, with a little ingenuity and perseverance; and it would save all the trouble and expense of a post card to the minister asking him to call. Let us hope, therefore, that in future there will be no misunderstanding upon these important matters, because every place in the land is not favoured with such an able, willing, and acceptable substitute as the people of Berry Brow had in Little Abe.

Reference has already been made to the esteem with which he was regarded by his fellow-work-people. As years went on this regard was, if possible, intensified, and it was beautiful to see how the younger men in the mill would strive to lighten his work, and make his duties as easy for him as possible. Nor was this kindly feeling confined to the mill operatives; his masters, gentlemen of high position in the locality, held him in great esteem, for they knew him to be a honest, upright man, and a faithful servant. He had, in his latter days, many liberties and favours which could not be permitted to their employes generally; often one or another of his masters would come into the mill, and have a few minutes' conversation with him about his work as a preacher, and his religious zeal, enlivened by his irrepressible humour, almost invariably sent the master away with his face covered with smiles, and his good opinion of the Little Bishop confirmed.

CHAPTER XXII.

Used Up.

As time went on, and year after year was added to his age, Little Abe began to show, by unmistakable signs, that he was becoming an old man; and although his lively temperament enabled him to hold up against his infirmities for some time, the day came when he confessed he was an old man and stricken in years; he began to speak of himself as being "used up," "worn aat," "done for," and the like. All the marks were upon him; his hair was snowy white, his face was furrowed with age, his sight was dim, his step was slow and feeble, his voice tremulous, and the signs were plainly seen that the Little Bishop was drawing near the end of his journey.

One day he was unexpectedly called to go into his master's office, and immediately he made his way there, when something like the following dialogue took place. "Well, Abe," his master began, "I am sorry to observe that you are getting so infirm that you cannot do a day's work now. I have seen this for some time, yet did not want to turn you away, but now I am sorry to say you will have to leave the mill, and I must put another man in your place."