That which we propose to substitute should resemble, as nearly as possible, the home-training which we find to be so sadly deficient. These poor girls require friends who will supply to them the place of mothers. Much has been said and written about ladies devoting their leisure time to the poor, and there is no doubt that much more good might be done by them in this way than is done; but the work we refer to demands something far beyond the occasional call, the book lent, and the garment cut out.
There are so many points of difference between the child reared in the mansions of the wealthy, and the uncared-for, friendless infant picked out of the streets and alleys, that it is not strange if they should have few thoughts in common. It is true there is in some hearts, as in that of Elizabeth Fry, a sympathy strong enough to extend itself to everything with which it comes in contact. The moral power of such natures is very great: they are one of God’s best gifts to this fallen world, yet not the most common. In devising schemes of improvement, we cannot therefore rely upon the powerful assistance which they give; nor must we take it for granted that our plans will be worked out by their aid. Probably, the best suggestion that has been offered hitherto, is made by the writer of “The Book and its Mission,” who proposes that some of the best of the poor women, superintended by ladies, should be employed as missionaries; and that each missionary should be the mistress of a house, into which a number of homeless girls might be received on payment of a small weekly sum. Here, under motherly training, they might be fitted for their future duties.
The Marian above alluded to, soon after the commencement of her work in St Giles’s, says:—“I long to lift poor young girls, from twelve to eighteen years of age, out of the horrors of those overcrowded rooms; and how glad I should be to take a house and make a dormitory for them by themselves! I know forty who would come to me at once, and pay threepence a night each: they could well afford it, and it would take the money from those dancing-rooms and casinos to which they flock to their ruin. What new thoughts I might put into their minds in the evening! How I might read the Bible with them! and some of them might help me in my other work. There is no provision of the sort for the class I mean; and they are those who most want it. Such a change would be to them the beginning of a new life; and there are perhaps five thousand of those girls always growing up in St Giles’s.”
But how inadequate, some will say, are these means to meet so extensive an evil! To provide for forty out of five thousand is of little avail. So it, indeed, appears if we look merely on the surface of this great subject. But it must never be forgotten that, every individual is a centre of influence. It is a proverb that “one sickly sheep infects the flock,” but happily this law of infection is not always on the side of evil; and, I believe, the force of example is stronger in the class to which I am now referring, than amongst the reading and thinking people in a higher grade of society. “I thought he was right, at first,” a lady once said to me, “but when I sat down by the fire quietly in the evening with my Bible, and listened to the voice within, as well as to the teaching of the Word, I then saw it all in a different light; and I resolved more firmly than I had ever done before that God should be my guide, and not man.”
But we are not speaking of the few who sit quietly by their fireside in the evening to weigh the actions of the day in the balance of truth; we refer to the multitude whose rule of conduct is summed up in the words—“Follow my leader.” True, they do not always follow the same leader; and the defection of a comrade will cause them to halt. Yet, after a time, they are found walking behind another guide. They are contented even if he choose the old path. But whether old or new, they cannot advance without guidance. To such accustomed only to “move altogether if they move at all,” we would commend the great truth that God can work by and for the few as well as for the many; that He is often content with small beginnings where we should have expected mighty achievements. This lesson we learn from our Saviour’s teaching.
He often spoke to large audiences; but He never refrained because His listeners were few. What minister charged with such a message as, “Whosoever drinketh the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life,” would have told it for the first time to a poor sinful woman whom he met by the way-side? Would he not rather have reasoned that his church must be unusually full before such a wonderful message could be delivered? Surely many “masters of Israel” should have been present to hear the answer to the question that has vexed and troubled the Church in all ages, as to where and how the Father was to be worshipped. But no; the same wondering woman, standing with her water-pitcher in her hand, was taught that neither exclusively “in this mountain nor yet at Jerusalem” was the Father to be worshipped, but that “the true worshippers worship the Father in spirit and in truth.” Jesus knew she would go on her way and stop every one she met, to repeat what she had heard, and to say, “Come, see a man who told me all things that ever I did.” This, too, is our hope, when the thought depresses us, that these small means can never affect such masses of evil. Each rescued soul becomes a light set upon a hill that cannot be hid, and many will make use of this light to guide themselves out of darkness.
Let those who are actively and successfully engaged in their own peculiar duties, spare a little time to assist their less gifted or less fortunate neighbours. Let those who are weary of doing nothing, assist those who are weak and weary with doing too much. Let those who are strong, aid those whose burden of life is too heavy for them to bear. And let us all seek to fulfil the great Christian command—which should be the bane of selfishness, and must be the foundation of social elevation—“Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.”
CHAPTER I.
A Village—Not Picturesque.
“Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?”
The wish of the child for a picture of the story which has interested him, expresses a feeling that is found in those of maturer years. “Where did this happen?” is the question sure to follow a narrative that has awakened sympathy. We realise the truth of a description more forcibly when we have given to it “a local habitation and a name.” In the present instance there is more than the usual reason for detail. Characteristic peculiarities belong both to the place and the people whom I am about to describe. Origin, occupation, and habits will, to a great extent, account for much that would otherwise require explanation. Without a due regard to these particulars, much labour is lost in working among the poor. We know that the seed which flourishes in one soil, and brings forth fruit to perfection, will scarcely live in another; and as every successful gardener considers both ground and plant, so every labourer in the human soil is careful to adapt means to ends, or his toil is fruitless.