Accomplished through sacrifice

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REV. BERT N. EVERETT

BY

BERT N. EVERETT

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And he said to them all. If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me . — Luke 9-23.

He that loveth father or another more than me is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. — Matt. 10-37.

THE REVIEW PRESS

DECATUR, ILL.

Copyright, 1910

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Preface

T he writer does not pose as an author, but is sending forth this story which came to him in a very short space of time, while watching with a sick wife in the month of January, 1908. He began to pray in behalf of the work of the church he represented. As he prayed the outline of this story came into his mind and remained with him until it was completed on the ninth day of April, 1909.

This book is sent forth trusting that God will make it a means of salvation to many. The writer has vowed unto God to use in church work all money derived from the sale of this book. Therefore it is sent forth dedicated to the Home Mission Cause as God may direct.

Bert N. Everett.

Accomplislied Tkrougli Sacrifice

Chapter I

“Hello, girls! Where are you going?’'

“Why, hello, Daisy Miller. We are going down to the skating-rink to spend the evening. Where are you girls going?”

“We have started to church.”

“To church! Since when did you get good?”

“Oh, I am not good,” replied Daisy, “I just realize I ought to be.”

Such was the greeting between Daisy Miller, a modest young girl of seventeen summers, and Maud Smith, a high spirited girl some two years her senior.

The companions of each stood in silence while the conversation took place. Daisy, remembering her friend, said, “Miss Smith, I will make you acquainted with my friend, Miss Lillian Jones. Miss Jones are you acquainted with my friend Miss Edith Long?”

“Yes indeed. Miss Long and I have been friends for a long time.”

As Miss Jones spoke about their being friends a blush passed over Edith Long’s face, for she knew that if she had a friend anywhere among her young acquaintances, that friend was Lillian Jones. It brought to her mind at once that she had not always been a friend to Lillian ; but being of a self-possessed disposition she quickly controlled herself and taking the advantage said, ‘‘Yes, Lillian and I used to work in the factory together before she joined the church and then she gave up her position because we were compelled to work on Sunday.’’

“Indeed, Daisy,” spoke Maud Smith, “Miss Jones is your guardian angel then as she is taking you to church.”

“No,” said Lillian before Daisy had time to answer, “It is Daisy who is taking me to church. Where we are going is not the church to which I belong.”

“Well, Daisy, that seems more strange than ever. Come and tell us about it. You haven’t turned churchy, have you?”

“No, not exactly. I am acquainted with the lady who preaches down there. She is a neighbor to us and I go sometimes to come home with her and, — ” with a little hesitancy in her voice, “I am getting a little interested.”

“A lady preaching!” exclaimed Edith Long, “I never heard of the like. Pray, where does she preach ?”

“Down here on the corner of Second and Walnut Streets.”

“Over there in that little frame building?”

“Yes, that is the place.”

“Maud, let us go and hear her.”

Maud laughed aloud at the thought of her going to church, a place she had not been since she used to go with her mother before she died, leaving her an orphan at the age of seven years.

“No,” said Maud, “my date is out and I am headed for the skating-rink. Why, it would scare the people to see Maud Smith coming to church.” Yet as she said this there was a tremor in her voice for her mind, in a moment of time, had gone back over years of misspent life and in memory she saw that thin-faced, loving mother standing in the classmeeting praising God, and again as she knelt at the family altar asking God to protect her only daughter and make of her a good Christian woman. As these thoughts came to her mind they brought the tears to her eyes, for she was tender-hearted.

''Let us all go in and sit together,’’ said Lillian Jones.

"No,” said Maud, "let us all go to the skating-rink. The two champion skaters will be there tonight and besides, my word is out.”

"Yes, that is so,” spoke Edith Long, for she was young and the skating-rink held great attractions for her. "Come girls, let us go to the rink to-night and then we will all go to church to-morrow night,” she said, looking toward Maud to sanction it. But Maud was slow to speak.

"That would be a good idea,” spoke Daisy, for she had a great weakness and that was worldly pleasure. As she spoke she looked at Lillian to get her consent, for although Lillian was a church member, Daisy knew her love for the skating-rink.

"Well,” said Maud, who had been reflecting and was allowing her conscience to work for the first time in years, "if you girls agree to that, we will go to the rink to-night and then all meet at Daisy’s house to-morrow evening at seven o’clock and go to church.”

"It is a go,” chimed in Edith and Daisy, and Lillian did as too many church members do, let silence give consent, and went along with a willing mind but not an easy conscience.

The four girls turned their faces about and went down the street toward the skating-rink, sometimes talking about the church and sometimes talking about the champion skaters, but each heart was carrying its own burden for the girls knew where they ought to be.

The rink was reached and all was stir and bustle. All seemed to be at their best to enjoy the evening. The champions were there and did some fine skating.

Their performing was wonderful and every one said it was the best of the season. But somehow our four friends did not enjoy it; they were at the rink but their minds had a strange drawing toward the little frame church on the corner of Second and Walnut Streets. At nine thirty Lillian made the fact known to her companions that it was time for her to go home, so not having had the enjoyment they thought they would, they all consented to go home. As they parted on the corner of Seventh and George Streets each girl going her way, Daisy reminded them of the promise for to-morrow evening.

''Yes, we will be there and go to hear the girl preacher,” cried Maud and Edith at the same time from opposite sides of the street.

"What did that girl say, Grace?” cried Mayme Black to her friend and neighbor, Grace Sharp.

"I did not catch the words, but it was something about a girl preaching.”

"Well, there comes papa,” cried Mayme as Lawyer Black came walking up the broad stone walk which led from the street to their elegant mansion. He had been to prayer meeting and while there the pastor had, at the close of the service, called a meeting of the official board of which Mr. Black was president.

"Good night, Grace.”

"Good night, Mayme,” cried Grace as she was half way across the lawn.

Lawyer Black and his daughter disappeared from view and the large door closed behind them.

CHAPTER 11.

We left our four friends as they parted on the corner of Seventh and George Streets, Maud and Lillian going south but on opposite sides of the streets since Lillian had less than half a block to go. Daisy went east and Edith north for a few blocks.

Lillian was wishing the folks would be in bed so none of them would ask her about the meeting. She was at ease when she found that the light was turned low and all had retired. She stole softly upstairs, fearing she would waken her mother, who was always uneasy about her when she was out. She reached her own room without causing any disturbance and was thankful. The first difficulty being past, she had time for reflection and sat down to think.

‘‘Why do I feel this way? I have been to the skating-rink before and have attended card-parties and a dance at my Sunday-school teacher’s home and I never felt like this before. I am actually ashamed of myself for going to the skating-rink tonight and I would not have mama know it for anything. What shall I tell her about the meeting if she asks me?” The poor girl, although a church member, for the first time in her life really breathed her soul out to God in prayer; “Oh God, if you will keep mama from asking me anything about the meeting and will help me out of this trouble I will never go to a skating-rink as long as I live.”

Meanwhile Maud Smith was going south on Seventh Street in a deep study. Something strange and unusual had come over her. All at once she stopped and stamping her foot unusually hard said with all the firmness of her character. ‘T will.”

This was said aloud and it brought her to herself. She realized that she had gone several blocks past her home — alas, what she called home. She turned about and retraced her steps, still saying, “1 will, I will,’’ and for the first time in her life she found she had an enemy to fight that was stronger than herself and she, too, like Lillian Jones, for the first time really prayed. She said from the heart, “Oh, God, if yon will help me I will do that thing this very night.”

She quickened her pace and instead of stopping at what she called home she hurried back to the skating-rink. They were just ready to close for the evening and she easily found the object of her errand, a tall, portly man of thirty-five, whose hair was just beginning to turn a little gray. She met him in a convenient place to have an open, frank talk with him.

“I have met you according to agreement, but not to keep my date. I have been home and have returned here just to see you. My past life and my mother and my mother’s prayers have come before me to-night. I cannot tell you how I feel, or why I feel as I do, but this one thing I must say, T will not keep my engagement with you to-night. I am determined, by God’s help, to live a better life and my advice to you, Mr. Brown, is to change your way of living. Go home to your wife and children and live happily together. You can if you will.”

As the last words died on her lips she turned and walked rapidly away, leaving the astonished man as much bewildered as if some one had struck him a blow. He was a man with some heart left, so when he realized what had occurred he did not try to overtake her and influence her against her resolution. He went to the livery-stable and ordering his buggy drove home. He was considered a fast driver, but this time his horse took its leisure. All he could hear was, ‘^You can if you will. You can if you will.’'

Daisy Miller went home but not to sleep. She spent a restless night and on the following day it seemed to her that she never wanted to hear of another skating-rink. She had almost made up her mind to be a Christian.

Edith Long, who had but little, if any, spiritual conception, having been reared in a home without any religious influence, had no thought of becoming any better than the present moral condition of her neighborhood, which was very poor. Although a good natured, light-hearted girl, at times she felt a strange feeling creeping over her which she could not account for and sometimes she really felt as if she had done wrong. The girls at the factory said her best beau had gone back on her, but she would readily arouse herself and go on in her light-hearted, jovial way. In a few short weeks she knew why these queer feelings had come upon her.

At the appointed time the four girls were gathered in Mrs. Miller’s quaint, little sitting room ready to start for church. The usual gay conversation, which is a natural characteristic of a company of young girls, was absent, especially so with Maud and Lillian. Edith was quite talkative and kept up the conversation, while Daisy tried to be light-hearted in the presence of her mother. The time soon came for them to start so as to be on time at the church. Mrs. Miller asked the girls to come back again and expressed herself as being well pleased at their going to church. Daisy kissed her mother and with the parting words from her for Daisy to be home early, she closed the door leaving the four friends alone once more.

It was a beautiful, moonlight night in the early part of November. They stood for a moment, then Daisy catching Edith by the arm took the lead, leaving Lillian Jones and Maud Smith to follow.

Though they had known each other but one brief day and their stations in life were different, they became fast friends at once and their friendship grew stronger as the years passed. The air was cool and they walked quite briskly for they had more than half a mile to go. Sometimes they were all four talking to each other at once and sometimes the conversation was on personal matters between the companions. Especially was this so with Maud and Lillian. Lillian was of a sympathetic nature and had a loveable disposition and poor Maud, though a down-trodden girl, had the qualities which go to make up the excellency of a true woman.

They reached the little church and found that the song service had begun. There was quite a crowd of boys on the outside, but it was nothing unusual for boys to stand there, for they liked to have the freedom of talking and smoking. The girls paused a moment on the steps and in that moment Maud received a dagger, as it were, to her heart, for words are sometimes like daggers. They had just finished singing a hymn and the last two lines fell upon Maud’s ears with a weight which made her tremble: ''If you love your mother meet her in the skies.” This was not the first time Maud had heard these words, but they awakened her as she had never been awakened before, and as she stepped inside the church for the first time in years such a strange sensation went through her entire being. She had been in the gilded ball-room, in the wine-rooms, at the opera and many worldly places of amusement, — but this strange feeling, what was this? This was something new. She never thought she was a bad girl, but now she thought she was the worst creature living.

Lillian leading the way, they found seats near the middle of the church where the four were seated together. Daisy and Lillian were quite at home, having been there before. Maud was too much troubled in mind to notice anything or anybody. Edith was all eyes and ears trying to see and hear everything at the same time.

They had not been there long before a young, slender girl arose with a Bible in her hand, walked upon the rostrum and stood behind the desk. Everything was unusually quiet ; Maud and Lillian could hear nothing but the beating of their own hearts. They thought this the most beautiful woman they had ever seen ; her face seemed to shine with a heavenly radiance. She stood for a few moments in silence, then with a sweet, calm voice which seemed more angelic than human she requested the Christian people to pray for her while she tried to speak on the love of God to a lost world, how ^‘He gave His only begotten son that whosoever believeth on Him might not perish, but have everlasting life.”

The speaker certainly had the help of God in speaking, for no mortal could speak as she did without divine help. It seemed not so much what she said as the way she said it. It came from her heart and went to the hearts of the hearers. A number of them sat in tears as she told of the sufferings of Jesus and how he could save people from their sins and make them happy and help them to live right. No matter how far in sin they had gone this Jesus would make them all equal and claim them as brethren. As she waxed eloquent by the help of the spirit many were almost persuaded to step into the fountain. ^'Now is the time to seek this Jesus. Come while we sing, kneel down here, confess your sins and God will own you as his child,” she said.

'"As His child,” thought Maud Smith. It sent a chill through her heart. She heard no more. She never could tell why, but she arose at once, made her way to the altar and began to call upon God for mercy, while her three companions looked on in amazement.

Chapter III

The girl preacher, as she was termed, was Miss Jessie Wells, a young woman who had been reared in luxury and refinement, but who, in just such a meeting as this she was now holding, was wonderfully converted to God and God had called her, as He did Abraham, out from her father’s house. Her parents being very wealthy and of a proud spirit greatly opposed Jessie’s taking the real, uncompromising way of the cross. It was too plain and but few took that way ; she ought to go to the church which was more respected. But Jessie was honest with her convictions and loyal to God and stood firm in the midst of opposition. When she made known the fact to her parents that she was going out in the church of her choice to preach the gospel, it was a blow and excited all the carnal nature Colonel Wells ever possessed. He threatened her with whipping and heaped much abuse upon her. The mother, being of a more cunning nature, used persuasion and tried to hire her. But Jessie had real religion and had given up all for Jesus. She told her parents it was God calling and she must go. She did not love them any less, but more than she ever did, but she loved God more now than all and she must obey Him.

Colonel Wells was of an iron-clad nature, yet he relented somewhat and tried to hire Jessie. The parents talked the matter over and decided they would give Jessie the one hundred and sixty acre farm or the elegant home where they were living. After supper one evening they called Jessie into the drawing room where they could have a private conversation. When they were in the drawing-room and the door was closed, Colonel Wells was the first to break the silence. '"Jessie. He called her name in an unfamiliar tone, one the family was unaccustomed to, for Colonel Wells spoke with a rough, commanding voice, but his voice as he spoke now was full of persuasion. The girl looked around in astonishment at the change he had affected. The Colonel had to swallow a big lump which had come up in his throat, but he calmed himself and went on : "Jessie, you are our youngest child. Your brother George has made a fine business man and is an honor to the city and to his business firm and is a great honor to the family. Mabel, your only sister, has acquired fame as a writer and is bringing the praise of the world to herself every day. Our family has never had a blot upon it.’' As the Colonel said this there was just a little blush came to his face, but he quickly overcame it and went on. "Now, you are our only child left at home. You have great prospects before you. In a few years you can be at the head of the music department in our establishment or be anything else you choose. This foolish notion you have in your head will wreck your mind, ruin your prospects of usefulness in the world, and bring your old gray-haired father and mother down in disgrace and spoil their happiness for the rest of their days.”

It was a blow to Jessie to hear her father talk like this and it was only God who kept her from screaming out with grief.

The Colonel went on: "Now, Jessie, this notion will soon blow over and you will look at it then with common sense. Your mother and I have decided we will not compel you to give up this foolishness, but we have an offer to make you. We will give you as your own, if you will give up this foolish notion forever, the one hundred and sixty acre farm on the Hopedale Road, or this beautiful home in which we live, either of these to be your own, on the condition that you will never name this nonsense or go down to that mission again. Refuse to do this and go out with those religious fanatics and I will disinherit you forever/’

The last was said in the Colonel’s rough manner of speaking. Jessie sat with her face in her hands, and not a motion did she make. The Colonel, expecting a reply, but receiving none, advised Jessie to study over the proposition until morning and then give him an answer before he left the city for a ten days trip to Colorado.

He left the room and mother and daughter sat in silence for some minutes. The mother could bear the burden no longer. She arose, went to her daughter, put her arms around her, planted a kiss upon her forehead and then hastily left the room to find relief in tears.

Jessie sat there for a few moments in silence. 'T was to lead the meeting to-night at the mission,” she thought, ^'but I cannot now. My mind is so disturbed.” Looking at her watch she saw it was almost time for the meeting. She hurried to the ’phone. ^^Give me ninety-nine.”

The Colonel heard ninety-nine. ''What is that? I will listen.” For the first time in his life Colonel Wells was guilty of eavesdropping.

"Hello, Laura,” rang out the clear voice of Jessie.

Colonel remarked aloud, "How can she be so calm? It beats me.”

Laura returned the greeting. Then the Colonel listened in breathless silence.

"Laura, will you take charge of the meeting tonight, I cannot be there.”

"Why?” rang the voice of Laura, so surprised. "What is the matter?”

"I cannot explain, but will tell you later. Pray for me. Good night/’

"Well,” said the Colonel, that is encouraging. She is not going to-night. Pray for me, — I do not like that. It makes me think — Oh, but that is buried long ago and I will never dig it up again.” So saying he strolled out on the porch and lighted his cigar for his evening smoke.

Jessie hurried to her room, but not to sleep, for there was little sleep that night for these three of the Wells family.

Colonel Wells lay worrying over what he con sidered a disgrace, but which he afterwards saw was his great blessing. Mrs. Wells spent a restless night with her mother heart breaking for her youngest child. She tried to pray for her daughter, for herself, and for her husband, but it had been so long since she had tried to pray. She used to pray and she wished that night that her life had been different. ''But we will make the best of it,’’ and so saying she smothered down her conscience.

Poor Jessie, with the love for father and mother and home burning brighter than it ever had and with the call of God upon her, her duty to Him and the lost world weighing heavily upon her, was struggling for the mastery of herself. She felt as she thought her Saviour must have when he was tempted in the wilderness. The enemy brought before her an indulgent father, a loving mother, brother, sister, an elegant home, fine clothes, jewels, fine company, pleasant rides, social gatherings of the young folks, and also the one hundred and sixt}^ acres of land. All of these were brought before her mind’s eye as plain as ever she saw anything in her life. On the other hand she would have an angry father, a heart-broken mother, a brother and sister who would desert her. She would be without a home and go out with a few who called themselves her friends. She would wear plain clothes and no jewels, be constantly meeting strangers, have no warm bed in winter time, but with aching head and tired limbs would go on and on. These two pictures of real life were before her and she must make her choice. ^^What must I do?” she cried out from the depths of her soul. ''Lord, help me.”

The Lord did help her, for as she was once more looking at the farm, father, mother, young friends, brother, sister, fine clothes, and an easy time in life, she heard the voice of Jesus speaking to her soul as did Peter, ''Lovest thou me more than these?'’ This was enough. Jessie remembered her consecration and by the help of God she kept it. She looked up and sang from her heart that beautiful stanza,

''Here I give my all to thee.

Friends and time and earthly store.

Soul and body thine to be Wholly thine forever more.”

As she sang the Lord wonderfully poured out His Spirit upon her and she was blessed. She felt that if her father should turn her out it would be for Jesus' sake. She looked at her watch and was surprised to find it almost three o'clock. She knelt once more and thanked God for his help, and then lying down was soon in sweet slumber.

She arose at the usual hour, dressed in a plain black suit and went down to meet her parents at breakfast. Colonel Wells looked up anxiously as his daughter came into the room, thinking he would see a forlorn looking creature who had given up hope of a cherished ambition ; but he was doomed to disappointment, for Jessie opened the door with a "Good-morning, papa and mama,” and going up kissed her father, saying, "You are the best papa.”

Colonel Wells was puzzled. He thought he understood this and yet he did not. Oh, this suspense. If the girl would only say something. But Jessie waited and the meal was eaten with the usual conversation.

After the breakfast was ended Jessie called her parents into the sitting-room and told her experience of the night. She told how everything was pictured before her, what she would have if she should stay at home and what she would have if she should go into the work. ''A voice seemed to say to me, ‘You must make a choice,' and if ever a soul heard Jesus speak I heard him say, ‘Lovest thou Me more than these?' I have made my choice, and papa, while I love you and mama more than I ever did, I love Jesus more and I will obey God."

The Colonel was white with rage and we cannot tell what might have happened had not Mrs. Wells with a scream fainted and fell back into her husband's arms.

Chapter IV

We left our four friends, Maud Smith, Edith Long, Lillian Jones, and Daisy Miller in the little church on the corner of Second and Walnut Streets. Maud had just gone to the altar and left her three companions standing in astonishment. They had never thought of such a thing as Maud going to the altar to seek religion. They would not have been surprised at Daisy, but Maud — they could not understand it.

Maud was in earnest. There were several others at the altar but she did not mind them. It was a great surprise when she went forward. A number of the people in the church knew her and it was very unexpected to them. The speaker saw this and the earnestness which the girl manifested and it drew her toward Maud. When the invitation hymn closed the speaker asked for all Christians who would to come around the altar and pray for the seekers. They had an old fashioned altar service, where the people were in earnest and the seekers wanted relief from their burdened hearts.

Two prayed through that night, but, while poor Maud received help, she did not get the victory. Miss Wells prayed and talked with her at the altar and found out some things about our friend which drew her toward Maud. She spoke to her about leaving all worldly companions and the pleasures of the world, the wearing of gold, and explained the Bible as best she could. She asked her to give up dancing and card-playing. Maud said she would give up everything for Jesus, that she would dress plainly and take the narrow way with all it might mean. But still she did not get through. At last