IT

CHAPTER X.

T was arranged to hold a prayer-meeting at Tommy Knill's on the following Thursday night. Miss Kemp undertook to let them know. Jimmy Templer and a few others intimated their intention of being present. It was rumoured that we were likely to find matters anything but pleasant, and we should act wisely to stay away from that quarter.

The landlords began to feel the effects of the good work that had been going on for some time; but this extra effort of the chapel people, and the fact that Tommy Knill's house was to be thrown open for singing and praying, was more than they could stand.

'What did the Methodists mean by hitting at their trade? Why should honest men have the bread taken out of their children's mouths?' The Winning Horse man and the Hare and Hounds man were blind to others' sufferings. They could not, or would not, see the misery of the persons who frequented their houses; homes bare of furniture, wives and

children destitute of the necessaries of life. The drink had made more hells than one in Hathercott for years past. The Mission Band would fight the devil Drink up hill and down. Many of them remembered the text from which the Rev. Pearson Strong preached some few months before: 'The battle is the Lord's, and He will give you into our hands.' The 'Midianitish' army had been scattered, and a mere handful of men had been enough for the work. The frail arm of Deborah was used by Jehovah to bring deliverance to His people. Had not Samson, with the jaw bone of an ass, slain hundreds of the Philistines? Did not David, with his sling and stone, bring down Goliath of Gath? Other persons spoke of drink as one of the good creatures of God; but we of the Mission Band saw in it a devil. Some of us had read Shakespeare, and remembered what the great poet said about it: 'O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let me call thee "devil." O that men should put an enemy in their mouths, to steal away their brains! That we should with joy, revel, pleasure and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! It hath pleased the devil Drunkenness to give place to the devil Wrath. One imperfectness shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself. To be now a sensible man, by-and-by a fool, and presently a beast!"

The battle-ground where this foe was to be fought was Tommy Knill's house. We had faith in the mighty weapon of prayer. At the appointed time we went to meet the enemy, Jimmy Templer taking the lead. When we were about fifty yards from the house, a few of the roughs, and the most reckless in that corner of reckless people, began to shout and

hoot; and we were at once convinced that the landlords had fitted them for the noisy and unmanly work by supplying them with the contents of the barrel. Our brave captain gave us no time to think of playing the coward. He started off at a rapid pace, both in singing and walking. The words

selected for singing were:

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'Am I a soldier of the Cross,

A follower of the Lamb?

And shall I blush to own His cause,
Or fear to speak His name ?

'Sure, I must fight if I would reign :
Increase my courage, Lord;

I'll bear the cross, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.'

The singing finished, Jimmy was on his knees in a moment, pleading with God. 'Blezzed Jazus,' he said, Thou biz ztronger than tho devil, ztronger than tho landlords an' thar drenk. Thou biz ztronger than thez poor mizerable mizguided men an' women. Tha' be doin' tho biddin' ov tho black un an' 'iz zarvants. Praps, Lord, tha' do me'n 'arm, but Tho' canz' change thar 'tentions in a vary zhort time, an' mek 'em be'ave tharzelves. We do wizh our vriends 'ere well, an' we do knaw Yo' do me'n 'em well. Zen' down Thy 'Oly Speret into thar 'earts, an' mek 'em zhek war tha' be ztandin'. Di'zt zave me, az bad un az avar liv'd in the-az village. 'Az zaved drunken 'Arry '-' Blezz Tho vor't,' said Henry Russel-'an' wicked Aubourn. Tha' be boo-eth 'ere, monimints ov Thy zpearin' marzy an' zevin' graze. O Lord, ze-av tho ol' uns in zin the-az vary night. But iv tha' do me-an wrong to uz, put Thy muzzle on a vew ov 'em, Lord. An' we beg it al' vor Jazus Chrizt's zek. Amen.'

'And now, vriends,' said Jimmy, 'we be gwain

into Tommy Knill's, to 'av' o bit ov zengin' an' prayin'; an' we ax yo' to jine uz.’

We went, and the room was packed as full as it would hold. Men and women were there that intended mischief; but they were kept in check by our faithful Redeemer. Had He not said, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world'? Yes; and if ever He was in the midst of His people, it was on that night in our cottage prayer-meeting. I know some Methodists that have not been to a cottage prayer-meeting for years. With them the temple is everything. They must worship in their chapel or nowhere. The Samaritans and Jews were no greater bigots in reference to this question than are many who live in our midst to-day.

Where did the disciples get the richest meal they ever had? In what meeting was it that the place was shaken, and the 'Holy Ghost fell on every one of them?' It was in the 'upper room,' at the cottage prayer-meeting, that the baptism was experienced which made the early followers of Christ witnesses for their Master. Our churches and chapels are the outcome of our cottage meetings. Our Methodist ancestors gained some of their greatest victories in cottages. And in Hathercott that night the Master did 'great things for us, whereof we were glad.'

Tommy Knill's wife wanted rest; had she not said as much on the Sunday evening? And more than once since then she had fallen down on her knees, in the midst of her work, and asked the Saviour if He would be kind enough to forgive her. She knew she had done wrong to leave the Sabbath school; she had lived a thoughtless, prayerless life; she thought she hadn't much longer to live: would

He give her some of the sunshine and happiness she used to have in 'the little chapel down yonder?'

Poor Carry Knill! thousands like you are asking us to leave our comfortably cushioned pews to visit them in their homes of indescribable ignorance, poverty, and moral wretchedness. The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which is lost."

Carry Knill, broken in health, weary, and sad, found peace, as Rachel Kemp knelt by her side that night in her own cottage. Jesus, Who visited the cottage at Bethany, paid her a visit of mercy. The old sunshine came back, the old peace filled her mind. She was thinly clad, her room all but bare of furniture: what of that? Jesus had come, and put on her His great cover-all, His robe of Righteousness;' and her heart and home were filled with His presence.