[Frontispiece: Abraham Lockwood. ]

LITTLE ABE;

OR, _THE BISHOP OF BERRY BROW_. 

BEING THE LIFE OF

ABRAHAM LOCKWOOD, _A Quaint and Popular Yorkshire Local Preacher in the Methodist New Connexion. _

BY

F. JEWELL. 

TWENTY-SECOND THOUSAND. 

London:

PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETOR, ROBERT CULLEY, 25-35 CITY ROAD, AND 26 PATERNOSTER ROW, E. C. 

Abraham Pilling, Esq. , ASTLEY BRIDGE, BOLTON, I DEDICATE TO YOU THIS RECORD OF THE

LIFE AND LABOURS OF ONE WHOSE WORTH YOU KNEW

AND APPRECIATED, AS A

MARK OF ESTEEM FOR YOUR ZEALOUS EXERTIONS

TO

ADVANCE THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST. 

PREFACE. 

I desire to express my thanks to all those friends who have kindlyassisted me in collecting materials for these pages; and I amespecially indebted to my friends the Rev. T. D. Crothers and the Rev. W. J. Townsend for the cheerful services they have rendered me inpreparing the little work for printing. 

Whilst trying to give a faithful account of the life and character ofAbraham Lockwood, I have done my best to make the narrative bothreadable and profitable; but I am sensible that there are many faultsin the volume. Such as it is, however, I humbly offer it to thepublic, with the earnest prayer that it may prove a blessing to many. 

F. JEWELL. 

BETHEL VILLA, HULL, 1880. 

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH AND PARENTAGE

CHAPTER II. 

EARLY INCIDENTS

CHAPTER III. 

HIS CONVERSION

CHAPTER IV. 

ABE A NEW CHARACTER IN THE VILLAGE

CHAPTER V. 

IN MEMBERSHIP WITH THE CHURCH

CHAPTER VI. 

"FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE"

CHAPTER VII. 

WIND AND TIDE AGAINST

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE CLOUDS BEGIN TO BREAK

CHAPTER IX. 

SALEM CHAPEL

CHAPTER X. 

ABE BECOMES A LOCAL PREACHER

CHAPTER XI. 

IN PRACTICE

CHAPTER XII. 

"BUTTERFLY PREACHERS"

CHAPTER XIII. 

VARIOUS WAYS OUT OF DIFFICULTIES

CHAPTER XIV. 

ABE'S TITLES AND TROUBLES

CHAPTER XV. 

A BASKET OF FRAGMENTS

CHAPTER XVI. 

"I AM A WONDER UNTO MANY"

CHAPTER XVII. 

ABE AS A CLASS LEADER

CHAPTER XVIII. 

"WORKING OVERTIME"

CHAPTER XIX

METHODIST LOVEFEAST

CHAPTER XX. 

PATIENT IN TRIBULATION

CHAPTER XXI. 

"THE LIBERAL DEVISETH LIBERAL THINGS"

CHAPTER XXII. 

USED UP

CHAPTER XXIII. 

"BETTER IS THE END OF A THING THAN THE BEGINNING"

CHAPTER I. 

Birth and Parentage. 

Abraham Lockwood was born on the 3rd November, 1792. His birthplace, also called Lockwood, is situated about a mile and half out ofHuddersfield. 

It makes no pretensions to importance in any way. The only publicbuilding which it boasts, is the Mechanics' Institute, a structure ofmoderate size, yet substantially built. Its one main street is linedwith some very excellent shops, some of whose owners, report says, havemade a nice little competency there. It still boasts a toll-bar of itsown, which is guarded on either side by two white wooden posts, thattake the liberty of preventing all cattle, horses, and asses fromevading the gate, and of unceremoniously squeezing into the narrowestlimits every person who prefers pavement to the highroad. Lockwood isalso important enough to receive the attention of two or three 'buseswhich ply to and fro between there and Huddersfield, as well as to havethe honour of a railway station on the L. And Y. Line. Of course yearsago, when Abraham Lockwood was brought into the world, this localitywas not so attractive as it now is; only a few cottages straggled alongthe level or up the hill towards Berry Brow, mostly inhabited byweavers and others employed in the cloth manufacture of theneighbourhood. Among these humble cottages there stood, on what isknown as the Scarr, one even more unpretentious than the rest: itboasted only one story and two or three rooms in all; it was what Abeused to call a "one-decker. "

In this little hut dwelt the parents of Abe Lockwood; the fact of theirresiding in such a humble home, shows sufficiently that they were poor, perhaps poorer than their neighbours. However, in that samesingle-storied cot in Lockwood, Abe Lockwood was born, a Lockwoodite bydouble right, and though age has seriously told upon its appearance, itstands to this day. We sometimes see little old men living on, andyear by year growing less and less, until we begin to speculate aboutthe probable time it will require at their rate of diminution fornothing to remain of them; and the same may be said of the little oldhouse in which Abe Lockwood was born; it was always little, but asyears have slowly added to its age, it has gradually begun to lookless, and now, as other houses of larger size and more improved stylehave sprung up all around the neighbourhood, it has shrunk into themost diminutive little hut that can well be imagined as a dwellinghouse, and it only requires time enough for it to be gone altogether. [1]

Abe's parents were a poor but honest pair, and laboured hard to makeends meet. William Lockwood, his father, was a cloth-dresser, andworked on Almondbury common, about a mile from his home, earning but ascanty living for the family. In those days, when machinery was almostunknown in the manufacture and finish of cloth, the men had to workharder and longer and earned much less than now. Those were the timeswhen hard-working men thought that the introduction of machinery intocloth mills would take all the work out of their hands, and all thebread out of their mouths; and this was the very locality where thegreatest hostility was shown by the people to such innovations. Many athreatened outbreak was heard of about that time, and in two or threeinstances the smouldering fire in the men's minds actually burst forthinto riot and rising, when they found that the great masters weredetermined to have their own way and introduce machinery into theirmills. Abe himself was led, some years after, to take part in one ofthese risings, and narrowly escaped the hands of the law, while severalothers were lodged for some time in York jail in recognition of thepart they had taken in the riots. 

Abe's father was a quiet, moral-living man, whose chief aim for manyyears seemed to be to provide for his own household; but in after timeshis thoughts were drawn to things higher as well, and he became aGod-fearing man; yet during Abe's early life, the most that can be saidfor his father is that he was an honest, hard-working, andwell-disposed man. 

His mother was a good Christian woman, and was for a long time a memberwith the Methodists in Huddersfield, and attended the old chapel whichformerly stood on Chapel Hill. There is no doubt that the earlyteaching of his kind and pious mother had a great deal to do with theformation of Abe's Christian character in after years. Certainly along time elapsed before there was any sign of spiritual life in herson; indeed, she was called away to her eternal rest before there wasany indication of good in his heart; what matters that? the good seedwas there; it would bide its time and then grow all the stronger. Sometimes people conclude that because there is not immediate growththere is no life; this does not follow; the grain may slumber foryears, then wake up and grow rapidly. I on one occasion saved someorange pippins, dried and planted them with the hope that they mightgrow; as time went on, I watered and watched them, but there was noindication of growth; months went by: I lost heart, gave over watering, threw the plant-pot in which they were sown out of doors; a year wasgone by and more, when one day my eye fell on this same pot all coveredwith green growth. "Hey! what's this?" why, positively, they are youngorange plants, standing up hardy and healthy, protesting against mywant of faith and patience. It is often the same with the growth ofother seed in the human breast; when parents have waited long in vain, their faith grows gradually less and less, until it dies out indespair; but the good seed may not die, it is sleeping, it lives itswinter life, and then under the tender and genial touch of somespring-like influences it begins to grow. "Be not afraid, onlybelieve, " said the Master of the vineyard. 

Why the young baby that had come to reside in that little cot shouldhave the honourable name of Abraham may be a subject of question bysome. It evidently was not to perpetuate his father's name, thoughfrom the beginning of generations this has been a sufficient argumentfor calling son after father; on that ground John Baptist had a narrowescape from being called Zacharias. That however could not influencethe decision in Abraham Lockwood's case, because his father's name wasWilliam. Perhaps it was that the child indicated a patriarchal spirit, and conducted himself like a _stranger in a strange land_, in whichcase there might be a suggestion of that name. Perhaps it was a pieceof parental forethought, for knowing well that they could never conferriches upon him, or place him in a position to make them himself, theydetermined to do that for him, which everyone must say is far better, they would see to it that he had a _good name_ among men, and so theycalled him Abraham. This ancient and venerable name, however, soonunderwent a transformation, and appeared in the undignified form of"Abe. " The alteration at least exhibited a mark of economy, even if itinvolved the sacrifice of good taste; there certainly was a saving oftime in saying "Abe" instead of "Abraham, " which is very important whenthings have to be done in a hurry; and then it may be that to some earsit would sound more musical and familiar than the full-lengthdesignation. Howbeit, there always seemed a strange contrarinessbetween Abe and his name. When he was a baby they called him by theantiquated name of "Abraham. " As he grew older and bigger, theyshortened his name to "Abe, " and when he was a full-grown man, andfather of a family, he was commonly known as "Little Abe. " The nameand the bearer seemed to have started to run a circle in contrarydirections, till they met exactly at the opposite point in old age, when for the first time there was seen the fitness between the man andhis name, and he was respectfully called "Abraham Lockwood. "

[1] Since the above was written, this little cottage has been removedto afford room for a larger building. 

CHAPTER II. 

Early Incidents. 

Nothing particular is reported of his early life in that little home;there are no accounts of any hair-breadth escapes from being run overby cart-wheels, or of his being nearly burnt to death while playingwith the kitchen fire, or of his straying away from home and taking tothe adjacent woods, and the whole neighbourhood being out in quest ofhim, or that he even, during this interesting period of his history, either fell headlong into a coal-pit, or wandered out of his depth inthe canal near by; there is, however, every probability, consideringhis lively disposition, that his mother had her time pretty welloccupied in keeping him within bounds. 

On reaching the notable age of six years, a very important change cameover the even course of his young life. His parents sent him to workin a coal-pit; people in these days will scarcely credit such a thing, but it is nevertheless true; nor was this an extraordinary case, forchildren of poor parents were commonly sent to work in the pits at thatearly age, when Abe was a child. The work which they did was notdifficult; perhaps it might be the opening or shutting of a door in oneof the drifts; but whatever it was our hearts revolt at the idea ofsending a child of such tender years into a coal mine, and thanks tothe advance of civilization, and an improved legislation on thesethings, such an enormity would not now be permitted. 

In some dark corner of that deep mine poor little Abe was found day byday doing the work assigned to him, and earning a trifle of wages whichhelped to keep bread in the little home at Lockwood Scarr. He went outearly in the morning, and came home late at night, with the men whowrought in the same pit, his little hands and feet often benumbed withcold and wet, and he so tired with his toils that many a time his poormother has had to lift him out of bed of a morning, and put his littlegrimy suit of clothes on him, and send him off with the rest almostbefore the child was awake. Many a time he was so weary on coming outof the pit that he has not been able to drag himself along home, andsome kind collier seeing his tears has lifted him on his shoulder andcarried him, while he has slept there as soundly as if on a bed of down. 

Some few years passed on, during which time Abe continued to work inthe coal pit with but little change, except that as he grew older andstronger he was put to other work, and earned a better wage. Hisparents, however, were not satisfied that their son should live and diea collier, they thought him capable of something else; besides that, there were always the dangers associated with that calling in which somany were maimed or killed. They therefore determined that their sonshould be a mechanic, and learn to earn his bread above ground. Aftera while they found a master who was willing to take him into his employand teach him his handicraft. It was customary in those days for amaster to take the apprentice to live with him in his house, and findhim in food and clothes. So Abe was given over to his new master, withthe hope that he would do well for him, and the boy would turn out agood servant. 

Now it is quite possible all this was done by the kind parents withoutconsulting Abe's mind on the subject, which certainly had a good dealto do with the realization of their hopes, more perhaps than theythought; however they soon discovered it, for in a day or two Abereturned home with the information that he didn't like it, and shouldnot be bound to any man. It was a sad disappointment to the honestpair, who had begun to indulge in expectations that some time "aar Abemay be mester hissen;" they however saw that it was of no use pressinghim to go back, and so they compromised the matter by setting about tofind him another master. Abe was again despatched from home with manya kind word of advice, and the hope that he would mind his work, learnthe trade, and turn out to be a good man. But what was their surpriseand pain at the end of about a week to see Abe walk into the houseagain with a bundle in his hand. "Oh, Abe, my lad, what's brought theehere so sooin? what's ta gotton in th' bundle?" exclaimed his mother. "Why, gotton my things to be sure; I couldn't leave them behind whenI'm going back no maar;" and sure enough he had come home with theinformation as before, he didn't like being bound to any man. 

The probability is that there was something in the kind of treatmentAbe met with in both those cases that helped to set his mind so muchagainst the life of an apprentice away from home. All masters in thosedays were not particularly kind in their manners towards apprentices:some honourable exceptions could easily be found no doubt, but as arule, boys in such positions were not very kindly used; hard work fromearly morning to late at night, hard fare at meal times, hard cuffsbetween meals, and a hard bed with scanty covering at nights, --it wasno very enviable position for a youth to occupy, and certainly not oneto which a spirited lad would quietly submit. It may be that Abe, during the short probations he had served at these two places, hadlearnt too much of the ways of the establishments for so young ahireling, and found they would not suit his peculiar tastes, andtherefore he decided twice over to return home, bringing his bundle ofclothes without giving any explanations or notice to any one. 

Be that as it may, here he was at home again a second time, much to theannoyance of his father, who was bent upon the lad learning somehandicraft. Abe remained at home a short time, when one day his fathertold him he had got another place for him, with an excellent man, whowould take him a little while on trial, and if they liked each other hemight then be indentured. His father had been at some trouble to finda master farther away from home, in the hope that when once Abe was agood way off he might be induced to stay; in this he was acting on theprinciple that the power of attraction is weakened by a wider radius, which may be correct when applied to some things, but not to all. Thisnew master lived in Lancashire, and thither young Abraham was sent indue course. A month or so passed away, and all seemed to promise asatisfactory arrangement, until one morning Abe heard a conversation inthe family, from which he gathered that his master was going toMarsden, where he expected to meet Mr. Lockwood at a certain inn, andmake final arrangements for Abe's apprenticeship. This opened the oldsore; Abe couldn't rest: "he wouldn't stay, that he wouldn't, he wouldbe off home;" but how was he to get there? he didn't know the way, andthirty miles or more was a long journey in those days. He determinedtherefore to keep his eye on his master until he saw him off forMarsden, which was more than half the distance to his home, and then heset away after him on the same road, never losing sight of him for oneminute. On they went mile after mile along the roads until theyreached Marsden, where he saw his master enter the inn. Now Abe had topass in front of this very house, but he didn't want to be discovered, so he adroitly turned up his coat collar over the side of his face, andpulled down his cap, and set off running as fast as he could, and justas he was passing the inn he took one hurried look from under his mask, and there, in the open window, he saw two men side by side, his masterand his father. Of course he concluded they must have seen him, andwould be out immediately to fetch him back; this idea only lent speedto his weary feet, so that he ran faster than ever on through thesolitary street of the old village, away out on the road, never turningto look behind, lest he might see all Marsden coming in pursuit of him. Exhausted nature however at length compelled him to slacken his pace, and on turning to look back he found he had only been pursued by hisown fears. The two men sat still in the inn, talking over and settlingthe terms of the apprenticeship, fixing the time when the indentureshould be signed and the boy bound to his new master. Each of themtook his journey homeward; neither of them was prepared for whatawaited him. One of them found on arriving home that Abe had gone, andthe other discovered the very opposite, that he had come, and both werealike vexed. 

It is likely that poor Abe would have had to trot back again the nextday if his mother had not taken his part. Dear woman, she had been awhole month without seeing her boy, and many an anxious thought had sheabout him during that period; many a time when her fond heart yearnedfor him, she had well nigh said she wished they had never sent himaway; many a time when some foot had been heard at the door her heartstopped at the thought, that it might be him; and now that he had come, really come, had run so far to be near her, had come so weary, footsore, and hungry, had laid his weary head on the end of the tableand wept tears of trouble and pleasure, had fallen asleep there as hesat, she put her kind arms around him, kissed his hot forehead andsaid, "Dear lad, they shall not take him away from his mother any morefor all the masters and trades in the land. " So it was of no use thatMr. Lockwood should argue for his going back; he had to yieldinevitably, for what man can think to contend long against his _better_half? From that time all attempt to bring Abraham up as an artificerended, and he found employment with his father as a cloth-finisher, atwhich he worked most of his lifetime afterwards. 

Soon after these stirring little events had gone by, another happenedin that household which brought far more pain and anxiety than anythingthat had preceded it. The youth who would not be parted from hismother, could not prevent his mother from leaving him, and theseparation took place; death stept in, and without regard to the fondfeelings which bound that little household together, bore away the wifeand mother to the spirit land, while her body was laid among the dustof others in the yard of the old brick chapel in Chapel Hill, Huddersfield. 

What a gap it made in that house! in the hearts of its inmates it leftan open wound which only long months of patient endurance could heal. When a mother's dust is carried out and laid in the grave, it is thelight of the domestic hearth gone out; it is the sweetest string gonefrom the family harp; that bereavement is like the breath of winteramong tender flowers; the live tree around which entwined tendercreepers is torn up, and they lie entangled on the ground, disconsolateand helpless, until the Great Father of us all shall give them strengthto stand alone. 

Abraham Lockwood's mother was dead, and a kind restraining hand, whichmany a time kept his wild and wayward spirit in subjection, was therebywithdrawn, and the ill effects in time began to show themselves in hisconduct. As he grew older, and the trouble consequent on the loss ofhis mother wore off, Abe gradually associated with evil companions, fell into their habits, until he became a wild and wicked young man. He never sank into those low habits of which some are guilty, whoneglect the appearance and cleanliness of their own person, and goabout on Sundays and weekdays unwashed and in their working attire. Abe had more respect for himself, and was always looked upon among hisfriends as a dandy. I have heard old people say he was a proud youngman, and withal of a very sprightly appearance. 

Abe took great pride in his personal appearance, and when not in hisworking clothes he usually wore a blue coat in the old dress style, such as "Father Taylor" would call "a gaf-topsail jacket. " There werethe usual and attractive brass buttons to the coat, drab knee-breeches, blue stockings, low tied shoes with buckles; and really everyone whoknew Abe thought he was a proud young man. Perhaps he was, but it isnot always an indication of pride when young people bestow more careupon their appearance than do their fellows; it may arise from a desireto appear respectable and be respected. No one will think I am tryingto extenuate the foolish and extravagant love of dress which somepeople show, who adorn themselves in silks or broadcloth, for whichthey have to go into debt without the means of paying. Some are mostunsparing in the way they lavish money on their own persons, but onlyask them to bestow something on a charitable institution, or on thecause of God, and how poor they are; how careful not to be guilty ofthe sin of _extravagance_; how anxious not to be _generous before beingjust_. 

There is a propriety which ought to be observed with regard to dress aswell as other things, and it will commend itself to the judgment aswell as to the eye. Some young people are the very opposite to Abe;they bestow scanty attentions on their appearance, --how can they thinkthat any one else will pay them any regard? Their appearance is likethe index to a book; you see in a minute what the work contains, and soyou may generally form a correct idea of the character of an individualby his habitual personal appearance. "Character shows through, " is agood saying, and would make a profitable study for most of us; it showsthrough the skin, the dress, the manners, the speech, througheverything; people ought to remember this, and it would have a goodinfluence on their conduct. 

A few years after his mother's death his father married again, andremoved about a mile further up the hill, to a place called Berry Brow. This village is situated about two miles out of Huddersfield, and isthe notable place where "little Abe" spent the greater part of hisdays. It stands on the brow of a hill which bounds one side of thewealthy and picturesque valley that winds along from Huddersfield toPenistone. It boasts one main street, which sidles along down thehill-side with here and there a clever curve, just enough to preventyou from taking a full-length view of the street; on and down it goes, the houses on the one side looking down on those opposite, andevidently having the advantages of being higher up in the world thantheir neighbours, until it terminates in the highroad leading out ofthe village towards Honley and Penistone. 

Run your eye down over the breast of the hill, and you have adelightful landscape picture, comprising almost everything which anartist would deem desirable for an effective painting, and a _little tospare_. There, nearly at the bottom of the gradient, stands thehandsome old village church, with its tower and pinnacles, reaching upamong the tall trees; and around it, a consecrated enclosure, guardingthe monuments of the dead, which are mingled with melancholy shrubs, planted there by hands of mourners whose memories of the departed arefitly symbolized by those perpetual evergreens. On this side andbeyond the sleeping graveyard, on either arm, are scattered, in prettyconfusion, the houses of those who have retired from the main streetfor the sake of a little garden plot or other convenience. Now thereis some pretence at a terrace, numbering two or three dwellings; thenan abrupt break, and houses stand independent and alone as if quietlycontemplating the lovely scenery of valley, hill, and forest, which arevisible from that spot. Down there in the bottom of the valley, standthose mighty many-windowed cloth mills, whose great flat, unspeakablefaces, seem to be covered all over with spectacles, out of which theycan look for ever without winking; there the men, women, and children, born and bred in the hills, find honest toil with which to win breadand comforts; while with a twisting course there runs along the wealthydale a little river, from which these giant mills suck up their dailydrink. Across the narrow valley and you are into a dense woody growth, which climbs the hills to their very crown, and sweeps away, minglingwith the sky. 

To this village the Lockwood family removed; and coming more directlyunder religious influences, the father very soon became converted, andunited with the Methodist Church, along with his wife. This had agreat influence on Abe for good; he began to attend the Sunday-school, which was conducted in a room, in what was called the Steps Mill, onthe road between Berry Brow and Honley. This was Abe's college; herehe began, and here he finished his education; no other school did heever attend; and for what little knowledge he had, he was indebted tothe kindness of those who taught in that school; yet all he learnt herewas to _read_. _Writing_ was a branch of study which Abe thoughtaltogether beyond his power; many times he endeavoured to learn themysterious art, but after struggling on as far as the stage of pothooksand crooks, he gave up in disgust, and never tried again. He used tosay he firmly believed the Lord never meant him to be a writer, or hewould have given him a talent for it. Now in this Abe was certainlylabouring under a false impression, and underrating his own ability; hewas as well able to learn the art of writing as many others in similarcircumstances. How many persons have we known who have grown up tomanhood and womanhood, before they knew one letter from another, andyet they have commenced to learn, and persevered in the work, untilthey have attained at least a moderate proficiency, and some even morethan that. What Abe lacked more than talent, was a determination tolearn; for if he had been resolved, he could have become a good penmanas well as others; in this he was to blame, whether he thought so ornot. Education can only be had by those who will work for it, andconsidering its immense value to every person, all who neglect it areblameworthy, and must pay the penalties, as Abe did all through hislife. 

CHAPTER III. 

His Conversion. 

People talk of great changes in life, and point to periods and eventswhich seem to have turned their whole course into a different channel;but there is nothing that can happen to any individual which will makesuch an alteration in his life _as conversion_. Thousands of personswho had been almost useless in the world, after that event have becomevaluable members of society; others who have neglected and abused theirtalents and opportunities, have become thoughtful and diligent; otherswho have lived in riot and sin, wasting the energies of body and mind, have learnt to live at peace with all men, and walk in the fear of Godand hope of heaven. Having become new creatures, they have shown it inevery line of their conduct. "Old things have passed away, and behold, all things have become new. "

It was never more strikingly illustrated than in the case of AbrahamLockwood. For a length of time after he had begun to attendSunday-school, there was a manifest difference in Abe's manner. Notthat he was really living a better life, for he was just as sinful asbefore, only he was _not now thoughtless_; he might go to the ale-housewith his associates, but he went home to think about it after; he mightswear and laugh like the rest of them when they were together, but hewas no sooner alone than he felt the stings of a remorseful conscience;he was gradually getting into that state when a man dreads to be alonewith himself; there was always something speaking to him from within, and the voice was getting stronger and stronger every week, tillsometimes it fairly startled him, and made him afraid; often he wouldtry to run away from it, but it was of no use; the moment he stopped, panting from the exertion, it was there again; many a time he tried todeaden the voice in the deafening noise of the mill, but the more heendeavoured to destroy it, by some mysterious contradiction, the moreintently he found himself listening for it; it spoilt all the pleasuresof sin by its presence; it was with him night and day; it followed himin his sleep, and was waiting for him when he awoke; it made himmiserable. Poor Abe was _under conviction of sin_; he was tasting thewormwood of a guilty conscience, than which nothing is more dreadful, and nothing is more hopeful, because it is the bitter that oft workethitself sweet; it was so with Abe. While he was in this state of mind, the Rev. David Stoner came to preach in the Wesleyan Chapel atAlmondbury. His fame drew many to hear him, and among the rest AbrahamLockwood. He went partly out of curiosity, and partly in the hope ofgetting relief to his mind; however, he only came away worse thanbefore; he was miserable, and it now began to show itself to hiscompanions. "Pain will out, " like murder. "What's the matter, Abe?"they would say to him. "Oh, nothing particular, " he would reply. Andthen among themselves they said, "Abe looks very queer, he's ill;" thenthey tried to enliven him. "Come, cheer up, old boy, we'll have ayarn. " One would tell some droll tale, and another would say somethingcomical in order to make him laugh; and laugh he did, he must laugh; itwould never do to let those fellows know what was passing in his mind;so he laughed loud as any of them, but what a laugh!--how empty andhollow, how joyless and unreal, how unlike his former bursts offeeling!--a got-up laugh, which shewed plainer than ever _something waswrong_. Abe knew it, and he felt it was of no use trying any longer tokeep up a sham happiness, and all the time be in torments from a guiltyconscience; he therefore resolved to give up sin and lead a new life. He probably was hastened to that decision by a remark which fell fromhis father's lips; the old man had noticed for some time that Abe wasnot in his usual spirits. He would come home of an evening and sitlooking into the fire for an hour without speaking or moving; he hadgiven over singing in the house, and he seemed as if he hadn't spiritenough left to whistle to the little bird in the cage; his meals layalmost untasted, and his tea would go cold before he had taken any. 

"Come, my lad, thaa mun get thee tea thaa knows, " said the old fatherone evening. 

"Yes, " said Abe, as he pretended to push something into his mouth. 

"What's matter with th'?" the father inquired; "thaa's not liketheesen, nor hasn't been for mony a week. "

Abe's eyes grew moist, and his chin trembled, but he called himself toorder, no babyism now. 

The old man, still looking at him, and keen enough to notice thestruggle he had to master his feelings, went on to say, "Thaa's poorly, my lad, thaa mun goa to th' doctor, and see if he canna gie theesome'at. "

"No earthly doctor can do onything for me, " answered Abe; "it's th'Physician of souls that I want. Oh, father, I am unhappy; my sins aretroubling me noight and day; I don't know what will become of me: _Ifeel like lost_. "

"My poor lad, the Lord have mercy on thee, " replied the old man, as Abeput on his cap and walked hurriedly out of the house. He went outscarcely knowing why; perhaps to hide his trouble from his dear oldfather; perhaps to smother his emotions, which were rapidly gaining themastery over him, or maybe he knew not why, --an impulse was upon him, and it carried him forth into the cool evening air; away he went at abrisk walk from the village in the direction of Almondbury common. Faster and faster he went, faster and faster as if to keep up with therapid current of his thoughts; the distance was uncounted, thedirection unheeded, the time forgotten; one thought only occupied histempest-torn mind, what must he do to be saved! There are some whowould think him very foolish to give himself so much concern on amatter of that sort; but the fact is, Abe was just beginning to act thepart of a wise man in renouncing his old habits and declaring forChrist. No human eye followed him on that lonely walk to the common, and no human friend accompanied him; he was alone, the thought pleasedhim; he looked around all over the face of the common, but no personwas visible. _Abe was alone with God_, and he determined to speak toHim, and tell Him all his burden of sorrow. Near to where he stood, there was a large tree growing, whose lofty branches were uplifted toheaven; it stood just at the bottom of a little grassy slope of four orfive yards deep, and close to the side of a small clear stream ofwater, which ran gurgling and rippling along, moistening the greatroots of this tree; it was here, under its spreading boughs and gnarledtrunk, _Abe found a place for prayer_. Down on his knees he casthimself, and his first utterance consecrated that spot as a closet, "God be merciful to me a sinner!" He only needed to utter the firstcry, others followed in rapid and earnest succession, till all therestraints upon his soul were broken asunder, and in an agony hewrestled for salvation. Hour after hour fled by; twilight gave placeto darkness; lights shone from the cottage windows away on thehill-sides; distant watch-dogs answered each other's unwearying bark;neighbours in the village yonder, stood chatting by their open doors inthe quiet night, and in many a cottage home hard by, children andgrown-up men sat quietly eating their last meal before retiring to bed:but none of them knew that out on Almondbury common, at the foot of agreat rude tree, a man, one of their neighbours, a sinner likethemselves, _was praying_. No, no, they didn't know: there is many athing goes on of vital interest to us, which even our nearest friendsknow nothing about; but there are other eyes, invisible, which lookdown upon us from their starry heights seeing all our ways. So theylooked, while Abe wrestled for liberty. His chief snare at this timewas, that he was _too bad for Christ to save_; it was a terriblethought to him, and had so much of seeming truth in it, that he attimes almost despaired; then again he remembered that he could not betoo bad for Christ to save; no, HE could save to the very uttermost allthat came unto Him; Abe tried to believe that with all his heart, andas he struggled against his doubts and fears, faith grew stronger andbolder, then in a moment the snare broke, the dark cloud over his soulburst, and out from the cleft there came a voice, which thrilled hiswhole being. "Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory ofthe Lord is risen upon thee. " "Glory! Glory!! Glory!!!" burst fromhis enraptured lips; his "light was come, "--what a light! a soul full, _full_ of the light of Divine smiles. No wonder Abe forgot everythingelse, in the joys of that ecstatic moment. He leaped, laughed, weptshouted the praises of God till his voice might have been heard faraway over the waste, as he turned his steps towards home that night. "Why, he's made a bron new man o' me. I hardly know mysen. Hallelujah!"

He was not long in reaching home, nor long in letting them know, whenhe got there, what a change had come over him. In he went, with a faceshining in all the brightness of his new-found joy. "He's made a bronnew man o' me! He's made a bron new man o' me. Hallelujah!Hallelujah!"

The change in his whole manner and appearance was so great, that hispoor old father was at first alarmed lest he had gone wrong in hismind; but Abe assured him he had just got right, and by God's help hemeant to keep so. 

Oh, if Abe had just got right by the wonderful change which God hadwrought in him, (and who can doubt it?) how many there are in the world_who are all wrong_, living the wrong life, striving for the wrongthings, going the wrong way, and running towards the wrong goal! Oh, how many are spending this short life in the pursuit of things whichare worthless and worse; sacrificing their souls' best interests forthe brief indulgence of sinful tastes, or spending the rapidlyaccumulating years of their life in dark indifference to eternal things!

The escape of one such sinner as Abe from the captivity in which theungodly are all held, may for a brief hour excite remark, perhaps adesire for liberty, too, in the minds of some others; but these gooddesires are often only of short duration, they die where they wereborn, and almost as soon, and the soul returns to its former state; thesleeper slumbers on; the drunkard drinks harder; the swearer blasphemesmore fiercely; the libertine indulges in greater excesses; and allthese hordes of ungodly men push on again down the broad and easyincline to the pit of Hell. Do people know that the end of a sinfullife is Hell? Do people believe? Why, then, do they press their waydown to such a place?

CHAPTER IV. 

Abe a New Character in the Village. 

"Hast ta yeard th' news?" said one neighbour to another, on the morningfollowing the happy event narrated in the preceding chapter. 

"What news dost ta mean?"

"Aye well, thaa has'n't yeard what happened last noight; doan't look soscared, mon; th' mill worn't burnt daan; nor th' river droid up; norAmebury (Almondbury) common transported; but some'at stranger nor that. "

"Why, whatever dost ta mean?"

"I mean that Abe Lockwood's been and gotton converted last noight, andhe's up and off to his wark this morning, shaating and singing like amadman. "

"Abe Lockwood converted!" replied the other in astonishment, andpausing between each word, as if to realize his own sayings. "Nay, --I'll niver believe that. "

"It's as true as thaa and me is here; his father telled me he wor aathoalf at noight on Amebury common, crying and praying by a big treeroit, and he gat converted there all alone; and when he came into th'haase, his face was shining like th' moonloight. "

Here was news for the people of Berry Brow, and how it flew from mouthto mouth, and from house to house, till, before many hours, almostevery person in the village knew of the wonderful change which had comeover Abe. Some doubted the report, --"It canna be soa, " said one;another "would sooiner think of ony one than him; he's making gameon't, I'll lay onything. " Others thought, "If he's turned religious, it's no matter; he'll be as wild as iver by th' week-end. " It was outof all character for Abe Lockwood to be anything else than he had been, a rollicksome, laughing, drinking, ungodly young man. 

How often people talk in this way, when they hear of some giving theirhearts to God; "They won't stand long; give them a month, and it willbe all over, " and such like injudicious things are said even by somewho ought to have more discretion. People talk without thinking, ormake such statements to cover their own shortcomings and faults. Whyshall they not stand? are they in the keeping of a feeble or fickleSaviour? isn't His grace as strong as sin? is not Jesus always mightierthan the devil? and have not millions of the greatest sinners who havefound the Lord, stood firm against the snares of the world, and all thedevices of the wicked one? "He won't stand, " is an old lie, whichevery young believer must set at defiance. "Stand fast, therefore, inthe liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangledagain with the yoke of bondage. "

"Weant I stand, " said Abe, "then I'll fall, but it shall be at the feetof Jesus. " Ah, that is the best way to stand; fall at the feet ofJesus. It may seem a paradox in terms, but it is not in truth; it ison the Apostolic principle, "When I'm weak, then am I strong. " So poorAbe laid himself down in order that he might not fall, and this is aplan which others might try in times of spiritual peril, and so escapethe danger of backsliding. 

Among others who canvassed the subject of his conversion were his oldcompanions. One had gone out from among them that they were sorry tolose; he was such a merry fellow; his face was always sunny; hiscomical sayings had filled the public-house with roars of laughter manya time; he could sing a song better than any of them, and he was alwaysready; he was open-handed with his money whenever he had any; andindeed, he possessed most of the qualities which make a man a favouriteamong boon companions. His going out left a blank which was more feltthan seen; a vacant seat in a public-house is soon filled; so if Abewas not there to occupy his own place someone else was; but no matterwho of his old associates were present, everyone felt Abe was absent, and couldn't help showing it in some way. 

They had all observed that he had not been exactly himself lately; "alittle down in the mouth, " and very quiet at times; but never diviningthe reason, they had put it down to the wrong cause, or thought verylittle about it; and then Abe had so often roused himself out of thesemoods of mental abstraction by taking "another glass, " and havinganother song, that he had kept his companions completely ignorant ofthe work which was going on in his mind. So now it burst upon themlike a gun-shot; they were amazed; but the devil seldom deserts hisvictims at a time like that; it would not be safe, he might lose somemore of them; he comes to their help and counsels them as to theirconduct. "Well, " says one of them as they gathered in their usualplace of resort one night, "I s'pose Abe Lockwood will be gone toprayer-meeting to sing Psalms with the old women, " at which the wholecompany burst into a loud laugh at Abe's expense, and yet it cost himnothing, which was more than any of them could say of the drink theyconsumed that night. 

Abe Lockwood had left them, --he was a changed man; he had beenconverted on Amebury common; he had turned off into an entirelydifferent course from theirs; he was a better man than any of them:many such thoughts as these would obtrude themselves on the minds ofhis former friends, and linger there in spite of all their efforts tokeep clear of them. 

Some time elapsed before any of these old associates were brought intoimmediate contact with Abe; whether they purposely kept out of his way, or he out of theirs, is not easy to say; perhaps both would be correct. He no doubt felt safest and happiest away from his old companions andeverything which reminded him of them; they, too, had a misgiving thatwhenever they did meet Abe, he would say something that might make themuncomfortable; for they knew he would not beat about the bush, he wouldtell them his mind about their ways: so on the whole it was best tokeep out of his way as long as they could. 

Meanwhile, Abe was gathering strength day by day, for he was living inthe constant spirit of prayer, which is the way to be strong. Nightafter night, a lone man might be seen kneeling at the root of a greattree on Almondbury common, pouring out his soul in prayer to God, untilthat spot became to the new convert the very gate of heaven; and forlong years after, when Abe was established in the faith, he stillfrequently found his way there to pray; during the whole of hissubsequent life, he never passed that spot without turning aside tohear what the Lord would say to him. Many of the most delightful timeshe ever had were experienced at the foot of that tree; and a visitthere, where he breathed the native air of his spiritual life, invariably brought the glow of religious health to his soul. 

As weeks and months went by, the people of Berry Brow became used tothe fact of Abe Lockwood's conversion, and it ceased to excite anyparticular remark, except such as might pass between neighbours onseeing him go by. 

"Aye, mun, what a change is in yon lad, " one would say. 

"You are roight naa, " would be the response. 

"He wor as big a rake as ony i' th' parish a few months sin'; I'd neverha' thowt o' Abe Lockwood turning religious. "

"No, nor me noather, but we niver know what 'll come to us. "

"No, --gooid-noight. "

One day Abe and a former companion of his met full in front; there wasno sliding away on either side, --they must speak. Both of themexperienced a slight nervousness at first, but Abe plucked up courageand came boldly on. 

"Naa, lad, haa art ta?"

"Oh, why, middling like, haa's yersen?"

"Aye, mun, " said Abe, "it gets better and better, religion is th' bestthing i' th' world; it's made me th' happiest chap i' Berry Braa. "

"Why, thaa looks merry, " said his companion. 

"I is merry, and only wish thaa wor like me, " and then Abe went on inhis own simple, earnest, and homely manner to preach Jesus to hisfriend; and before they parted, the man had proof enough that Abe hadfound a better way of living than his former one. 

Many a time, as weeks and months rolled by, he was thrown for a shorttime into company with one or another of his old yoke-fellows in sin;and often did they endeavour to lead him back again into the ways andhaunts he had forsaken; but no, no, he was not to be moved out of thenew path which he had taken for time and for eternity. 

Abe was a very plain-spoken man, and sometimes used phrases which wereanything but refined, but this was compensated for by their good sense. Sometimes, when Satan was tempting him to give up his religion, andreturn again into the ways of sin, he would exclaim, "What! give up myblessed religion and return to thy swill-tub agean; I should be a greatfooil to do that, --does th' want to mak' me like an owd saa (sow), that's been weshed, and then runs back into t' muck agean; nay, thaa'srolled me i' sin lang enough; I'm thankful to be aat o' thy mud-hoil, and by the help of God, thaa'll get me there no maar. " Then perhaps, when in conversation with some unconverted neighbour on theall-absorbing theme of religion, he would break out, "Aye, mun, yoadoan't know haa grand it feels being weshed, weshed i' th' blood of th'Lamb. I wor that mucky, all th' waiter i' Holmfirth dam couldn't mak'me daacent, but a drop of His blood did it in a moment. Glory to God!"

Ah! the precious blood of Jesus can make the foulest clean; no matterhow long or how deep sin has reigned in his heart, Jesus is able toremove it entirely, and bring in His grace and peace. He is awonderful Physician, there is none like Him; He has never been baffledyet, though for nearly two thousand years He has been called toexercise His power on the outcasts and incurables of our race. Heknows the disease with which every poor sinner is afflicted, and Healso understands the cure; sinners who have long been given up bythemselves, and others as well--poor, abandoned things, who have beenkicked out of all orderly society, and left to rot in the moral filthof the streets, or die in the sewers of iniquity, have been found byHim, lifted out of the mire, washed in the streams of His grace, clothed in His righteousness, and made fit to sit among princes. 

 "Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness My beauty are, my glorious dress; 'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed, With joy shall I lift up my head. "

CHAPTER V. 

In Membership with the Church. 

As soon as Abe Lockwood found the Lord, he felt it was his duty andprivilege to unite himself with the people of God, and he thereforelost no time in seeking membership. 

THE METHODIST NEW CONNEXION at that time had no chapel in Berry Brow, but conducted prayer-meetings, and held a weekly class in a cottagesomewhere in the village. Abe knew these humble, earnest people, andfelt drawn towards them by strong sympathy; he was sure he could feelat home among them, and they would be of very great assistance to himin building up his Christian character. What made him all the morewilling to throw in his lot among them, was the fact that some of themhad frequently shown an interest in his spiritual welfare before hebecame converted, and had endeavoured to induce him to attend theirmeetings; and now when they all knew the change that had taken place inhim, they were the first to go after him and offer him the right handof fellowship, --so he at once united himself heart and hand to theirlittle band. 

It would be well if that zeal and watching for souls, whichcharacterized the early Methodists, were more frequently displayedamong their successors; how many who are now merely hovering outsidethe Christian Church, afraid to run after the pleasures of sin, ashamedto avow themselves in quest of salvation, would be brought to decision, and enabled to lead a happy and useful life. 

There are many thus hanging on the skirts of almost every Church, waiting to be gathered up, and shame on the members who quietly andindifferently permit this! It must not be; men's souls are tooprecious to be trifled with; they have _cost too much_ for us to allowthem to starve and die on our doorstep; open the door, put forth yourhand, draw them kindly, but firmly, into the family of the Lord; few ofthem will have heart to resist such efforts to save them; but if theydo, then go out to them, stay with them, persuade and entreat them, pray for them, pray on and on, and in the end you will prevail. Wewant more of this watching and waiting for souls in Churches; may Godlay these souls on our hearts!

Abe became a member of the Methodist New Connexion in Berry Brow whenit could scarcely be considered a Church, inasmuch as neither Christiansacrament nor preaching services were established there: it was merelya class belonging to the society in Huddersfield. That class, however, was the living germ out of which was in due time developed a strong andflourishing Church, having now a commodious chapel, and also anexcellent Sunday School, in which are growing up hundreds ofinteresting children, who will some day be a blessing to theneighbourhood, and an honour to the Church of Christ. 

To this little band of disciples our friend Abe was a most valuableaddition; not that either then or afterwards he brought them wealth, for he was always poor, but because he contributed a zealous, prayingspirit, and encouraged the little flock to fresh exertions. 

He was no sooner admitted among them, than he began to exercise histalents in prayer-meetings, and although he sometimes got confused inhis utterances, he didn't care much, for he used to say, "Th' Lordknows what I mean, and He can soort th' words, and put 'em in theirroight places; bless Him, He can read upsoide daan, or insoide aat. "But time and constant exercise made a wonderful improvement in thisrespect, and as Abe felt less difficulty in uttering what he meant, healso experienced less restraint of spirits, and began to show himselfin his own peculiar style. 

He had a way of responding to almost everything that was prayed for, and interlacing remarks, and sometimes explanations, when he thoughtthem necessary. Possibly these comments were more to himself than forany one else, and were often made quite unconsciously--a kind ofthinking aloud. A rather amusing instance is given where Abe's notesof explanation were called forth. It appears that one night the weeklyprayer-meeting was conducted as usual in the cottage of one of themembers. Abe was there among a number of others, and they were havinga very lively time together. As one after another engaged in earnestintercession at the throne of grace, the feelings of all present becamevery elevated, and they shouted for joy. At length, while one brotherwas praying, another got so happy that he could remain on his knees nolonger. Springing to his feet, therefore, he began to jump, and in oneof his upward movements he brought his head into sudden and violentcontact with a basket of apples, which hung by a nail to the ceiling;the basket oscillated a time or two, then slipped over the head of thenail, and spilt its contents on the head of the man that was praying. This singular event was deemed by him a sufficient reason forsuspending his exercises, and opening his eyes to ascertain the cause. As soon as Abe observed the suspension of prayer, he exclaimed, "Prayon, lad! it's nobbut th' owd woman's apple-cart upset, " on receivingwhich timely exposition of the state of things, the good man resumedhis intercessions, and the meeting returned to its former happy flow offeeling. The time came when Abe was looked upon as the life and soulof these little meetings: his quaint sayings, his earnest prayers, hishappy experience, always animated and strengthened those who werepresent, and made the meetings real means of grace. Then Abe wasalways there; he could be relied upon whoever might fail, so that theyall began to depend upon him, look to him, and follow him, till, almostwithout knowing it, he had become greatly responsible for the spirituallife of the little flock in Berry Brow, and mainly instrumental inlaying the foundations of the cause there, which has now grown to veryinteresting and influential proportions. 

CHAPTER VI. 

"For Better, for Worse"

Marriage is a most important step in the life of any person; happinessor misery in this world depend on it far more than many young peoplethink. Nothing demands more careful thought, discrimination, andprayer, than the choice of a life partner. Especially professors ofreligion should consider this, lest they be tempted to break theapostolic injunction, and become "unequally yoked together withunbelievers. "

It is painful to see how little regard is paid to this subject by somewho profess to be disciples of Jesus, and yet allow their affections tobe centred upon someone of the world. Pleased by an attractiveappearance, winning manners, or something else of this kind, they arebeguiled away beyond the line of demarcation which divides the churchfrom the world, until, by-and-bye, they consummate a union of theflesh, where there cannot be a union of spirit, and light and darknessmake a poor attempt to dwell together. 

Self-deception is a very easy thing in matters of this sort; it isseldom difficult to find arguments in favour of that which the heart isset upon. The one that knows the Lord, will pray until the other isbrought to him; neither will be guilty of casting the slightesthindrance in the way of the other, etc. , etc. , but how often have thesepretty delusive devices been cast to the winds, or broken to atoms likeglass toys in after life, and their framers made to pay the bitterpenalties of disappointment, regret, and even backsliding for theirearly transgressions? The selection of a husband or wife is not aquestion of mere sentiment or feeling, but one which involves animportant principle. In making it, we should take God into ourcounsel, and abide by His decisions. A young man who was a member inone of our churches once opened his mind to me on this subject; he verymuch admired a young person whom he mentioned; he said he had beenpraying about marriage with her for some time, and had left it entirelywith the Lord, but said he, "I must have her, come what may. " Prayerwith submission like that is only a solemn mockery, and is sure to meetwith its deserved reward. If we ask God to guide us, we must permitHim to lead; and whether the outcome suit our feelings or not, we mayrest assured it will be for our ultimate welfare. 

In the choice of his wife Abe Lockwood was wisely led, as a long andhappy life together afterwards proved. It appears that soon after hisconversion, Abe, who was always fond of singing, joined the choir ofthe Huddersfield Chapel. That was the age before organs were thoughtof in Methodist places of worship; other musical instruments obtainedin those good old times: fiddles and bass viols, clarionets, flutes, hautboys, cornets, trombones, bassoons and serpents, delighted the earsand stirred the souls of our forefathers with their sacred harmony. Grand old times those were too; there was some scope for the musicalgenius and taste of men in those days, when if a man could notmanipulate the keys and evoke the religious tones of a clarionet, hemight vent his zeal in the trombone, or make melody on a triangle;then, the orchestra was a kind of safety valve, where zealous men mightexert their powers until they were bathed in perspiration andexhausted. In those days the musicians were men of considerableinfluence in the public services; they could any time keep thecongregation waiting while they tuned up to harmony, or while the firstfiddle mended his string, or rosined his stick. True, a littleaccident would occasionally happen in the midst of the service, such asthe falling of a bridge, but nobody was hurt, it was only afiddle-bridge; a nervous preacher might be just a little startled bythe thwack behind him, and a few of the light sleepers might besuddenly aroused from their deep meditations to venture aninappropriate response; and other little matters might occasionallyhappen, as when some conspicuous instrument became excited, and playedsomewhat sharper than the others in the band, thereby giving a twingeof neuralgia to a few sensitive persons in the congregation; but thenthey shouldn't be so sensitive, --others were not, not even themusicians, and why should they? Besides, all these things, and a greatmany more, too numerous to mention, helped to throw some variety andfeeling into the proceedings, and frequently afforded matter for livelyconversation when the people came out of chapel. Can any one wonder, therefore, that the musical taste of the past should steadfastly resistevery effort to bring about a change in the composition and conduct ofour chapel orchestras?

Abe lived and flourished as a singer in those good old days, and it wasone of his greatest enjoyments to take his place among the singers inthe old High Street Chapel, and raise his alto voice in honour of Him"whose praise can ne'er be told. "

But there was another little pleasure which Abe very much enjoyed afterthe services, and that was to walk home in company with a young woman, one of the singers, too, named Sarah Bradley. She lived at Berry Brow, and was a member in the same class as himself; she was about his ownage, and while she made no pretensions to beauty, she was what theneighbours called "a real bonny lass. " Abe thought her the nicest andhandsomest young woman he ever gazed upon. She was the very light ofhis eyes, and her conversation was real music to him; he was so charmedwith her, that he would run a mile any time to look at her bonny face;his affections were entirely won by her, --which was, by the way, nolittle pleasure to herself, inasmuch as she regarded him with verysimilar feelings. 

There seemed quite a propriety in the mutual affection of these twoyoung people; it was, to say the least of it, quite patriarchal thatAbraham should love Sarah; but whether Abe ever thought of Scriptureprecedent for indulging such sentiment or not, one thing is certain, hefollowed the example set by one of old, and took Sarah to be his wife. 

The wedding took place on the 10th May, 1818. There was no extravagantor improvident display on the occasion. Abe did, however, put on hisbest clothes, and stay from work for that day; and Sally, as he nowbegan to call her, appeared in a stuff dress, that served as her Sundayfrock for a long time afterwards. A few friends attended the ceremonyby invitation, and a few more of the gentler sex just dropped in asthey were, to see that the affair was properly done, as well as toindulge a pardonable liking for that kind of religious service. Someof them probably never attended a place of worship except on suchinteresting occasions, or in connection with a christening. Here, then, was an opportunity for these people to indulge their selecttastes, and they failed not to embrace it. 

The ceremony over, the happy pair came forth to be pelted, according tocustom, with rice and old shoes, symbolizing the wishes of thebystanders, that all through life they might enjoy plenty, prosperity, and good luck. Then came the walk home through the village arm-in-arm;Abe nervous, and Sally blushing under the kind yet familiarcongratulations of their friends. 

The day was spent in a quiet, happy manner among the members of thewedding party, and nothing particular occurred until a little beforeseven o'clock in the evening, when all at once Abe got up, reached downhis hat, and prepared for going out. 

"Where's ta going?" someone asked. Sally was looking at him rathercuriously, as if she could not understand his movements. 

"Why, " said he, "doant yoa know it's my class noight?"

"Well, what by that? they'll niver expect thee t'-noight. "

"Oh, but I mun goa. "

All present laughed right heartily at his remark, and one of them said, "Nay, lad, thaa mu'nt goa t'-noight and leave th' wife and all th'friends; foak 'll laugh at thee. "

"Let 'em laugh; th' devil 'll laugh if I doant goa, and foak 'll laughif I do. I'm sure to be laughed at, ony way; I'll goa. " He looked atSally for a moment, and saw, at any rate, that she understood him, although she did smile; so opening the door he shot out, saying, "Ishalln't be long, lass. " He went to his meeting just the same asusual, and no matter to Abe if his leader and class-mates were allsurprised to see him, he was quite as comfortable as if a wedding werean every-day event with him. Abe's maxim was to allow no hindrance tostand in the way of his duty to God. Christ came first with him, hiswife stood next; and as he began, so he continued through all hismarriage life. 

This worthy couple began housekeeping in a very humble way, --it wasreally "love in a cot, "--and with very limited means; but they werehappy in each other and happy in God. Sally made a good wife, andcontributed greatly not only to her husband's happiness, but also tohis usefulness in the Church. Too much can hardly be said in honour ofthat humble and devoted woman, whose great study, during all their lifetogether, was to make home most attractive to her husband, and hispath, as a Christian, easy. When the charge of a large family cameupon them, she cheerfully and studiously undertook the multitudinouslittle offices and cares that always come, under the circumstances, andthrew as little as possible upon her partner in the house; for she usedto say, "Dear man, he has enough to do to find us in bread, withouttroubling to put it into our mouths. " Ah, and when there was scarcelyeven bread for them, which often happened in those hard times, shewould scorn to murmur at her husband, or utter a word that seemed likea reflection upon him; no, she was united to him "for better, forworse, " and she bore whatever came with a noble and patient fortitude. Many a time, however, had she, poor thing, to go to her heavenly Fatherwith her cares, and vent her anguish in a shower of tears, which Abenever saw, and perhaps never heard about; and when he came home fromhis day's toil, she always tried to have a cheerful face and a smilefor the dear man. 

Besides attending to the duties of her household like an exemplarywife, she was often engaged in her own house _burling_ cloth for themanufacturers, by which means she earned a scanty addition to theirincome. Frequently when Abe retired to rest, she would pretend she wasscarcely ready, and then, after he had fallen soundly asleep, she mightbe seen by the dim light of a candle, hour after hour, till far awayinto the morning, picking at the cloth in order to get it finished;then, tired in body and spirit, she would throw herself down to sleep, and recruit for the struggles of another day. Whenever the childrenhad any new clothes, which was too seldom, they were made by her hands. Necessity had taught that thrifty little woman many a thing, until intime she learnt not only to earn and make their clothes, but even tomend their shoes herself. Many a homely patch did she put upon theirclogs, and many a sole, too. She had fingers for anything, and neverstood fast whatever came in her way. While many others in her positionwould have sat wondering and despairing, she arose, stuck to her task, got it done, and if she had any time, she did the wondering afterwards. 

Go when you would to Sally Lockwood's house, it was always tidy, andthere was a clean chair for you to sit upon. Although their clotheswere coarse, and patched with more pieces, if not more colours thanJoseph's coat, the children were always clean, though many a time theyhadn't a change of garment to put on. What that means in a largefamily, the thrifty wives of hard-working men will understand. Thefrequent late washings on Saturday nights, when the little ones weregone to bed, were something wonderful, and what was even moreremarkable still was, that Sunday morning found their things all cleanand dried, ready for them to go to school like other children. 

Ah, Sunday morning, beginning of the day of rest, --how welcome to poorSally after her hard week's toils and anxieties! When the family weregone to school, and her honest man was somewhere at work in theMaster's vineyard, she could slip on her bonnet and shawl and just runinto the preaching service close by, and gather strength andencouragement from the earnest prayers and humble exhortations of thosemen whom God had found in the quarry, at the loom, in the mine, or atthe lapstone, and sent forth Sunday by Sunday into the villages topreach a homely gospel to the poor, and comfort to His flock. 

And thus she struggled on from week to week and year to year, bearingwith uncomplaining fortitude her own burdens, and lightening, when shecould, those of her husband; setting an example of patience, industry, and piety before her family, thus by example, as well as precept, training them up in the fear of the Lord. 

No wonder that one of Abe's greatest boasts was his wife. Next to hisLord and Master, whose praise was ever on his lips, Sally came in forhonours. "Aar Sally, " which was the usual homely and affectionate wayin which he spoke of her, was, humanly speaking, his sheet anchor; herword was more to him than counsel's opinion, and considerably cheaper;what "aar Sally" said was Act of Parliament in that little house. Shehad gained a power there which was due to her, and which she exercisedfor the benefit of the whole. 

"Aar Sally" often figured in Abe's sermons, and always in a favourablelight, which shows the estimation he cherished for the worthy partnerof his joys and sorrows. Although, as years went on, time, labour, andanxiety made their unmistakable impressions upon her, she was alwaysbonny to Abe; and up to the last, when he was a feeble old man, and shewas stricken in years, he used to say, "Aar Sally is th' handsomestwoman i' th' world. " It is possible that this assertion may have beenthe occasion of some tender disputes in some quarters, but nothing wasever heard to that effect, and no one ever openly ventured to enterinto competition with Sally for the honour which was ascribed to her, so that she was, _without dispute_, the handsomest woman in the world. 

 "Handsome is he, that handsome doth, And handsome, indeed, that's handsome enough. "

Beauty is only skin deep, but goodness goes right through. Sally was agood wife, a good mother, a good Christian, and now her soul rests inthe presence of Him "who is fairest among ten thousand, and altogetherlovely. "

CHAPTER VII. 

Wind and Tide Against. 

When Sally gave her hand to Abe, we have said it was "for better, forworse, " but she soon found there was a good deal of "worse" in it. What a sad thing it seems that nearly all the pretty castles whichyoung people build for themselves in the air, should so soon fall topieces! What a wonderful contribution it would be to the science ofarchitecture if the ideas of these erections could only be realized insubstance! Ah, but such is the nature of things, that castles withoutfoundations can only be built in the air, and commonplace men areunable to do that. It has been a great disappointment to theconstructors of these buildings, that they have never been permitted tospend a single hour in them; so very attractive as they looked, too, covered all over with gilt and flowers, and furnished in a style thatout-rivalled the pictures of the "Arabian Nights. "

A real prince might be happy if he could only get in. Some of themhave taken years to bring to such a state of perfection; now, a littleaddition is made here, and then a slight alteration there, until it isfinished, and the happy pair set off to take possession of the fairypalace. But they never enter it: the more eager they are to get in, the more confused they become as to the position of the doorway; onethinks it is at the front, the other fancies it must be at the side, and every time they go around the house seeking the entrance, by somemysterious means the house seems further from them, and another effortis necessary to reach it. How tiresome! but they must be in, forstorms begin to gather, and they are not prepared for them; the windblows and whistles as if calling up other evil forces for mischief;night, like a dismal monster in a black cloak, and barefooted, iscoming on; the pretty castle is fading out of view among the darkeningobjects around, --quick! quick! we must be in, for the hour is wild. Onthey hurry, and in their haste, they find an open door and enter; thereis shelter and rest for them, but when daylight comes they open theireyes, and lo, the lovely castle is gone, and the home is a weaver'scottage!

There is no doubt that Abe and his young wife played their part atcastle-building, like most others in their position, and like othersthey found it a great deal easier to erect than inhabit. However, there is this to be said for them, which cannot be said for all, theyhad fortitude to endure their lot without complaint; and though theircastle was but a very little cot, it was commodious enough to holdthem, and left room for a variety of joys and sorrows as well. 

At the time when they were married, Abe was working as a cloth-finisherin a mill near Almondbury common, but not long afterwards, the work atthis place failed, and he, with a number of others, was thrown out ofemployment. This was a sore reverse, for which they were ill-prepared. If trade had been good in the neighbourhood, he could easily haveobtained work under some other master, but alas! the reasons whichinduced his employer to discharge his men, operated with others in thesame way, and consequently left no opening for Abe. 

What was to be done? Ah! that was the inquiry which often passedbetween Abe and Sally in their little home. The bread-winner wasstopped, then the bread must soon stop, and then would come a dark_period_, that is, a full stop. 

In their day of trouble they carried their case to the Lord, and askedHis fatherly aid; many a time did they go together to vent their burdenof trouble in His ear, and obtain strength to endure their trial. Oneday, after Abe had been in this way asking help and counsel of theLord, he came and sat in a chair at one end of the table, while hiswife sat near him, quietly stitching away at an old garment she wasmending. For a few minutes neither of them spoke; by-and-by Sallylooked up from her work to thread her needle, and their eyes met. Shehad a very sad look upon her face, for her heart was full of trouble, and she was just ready for what she called "a good cry;" but the momentshe saw his face, which was covered all over with a comical smile, shecaught the infection, and burst into a laugh, --a kind of hystericallaugh that had more sorrow than mirth in it. She laughed and helaughed, one at the other, till tears came from the eyes of both, andtheir poor sorrow-sick hearts seemed as if they would rise into theirthroats and choke them. 

"Naa, lass, what's matter with the'?" at length exclaimed Abe. 

"Why, it's thee made me laugh soa. "

"Me, what did I do?"

"Ay, thaa may weel ask, " said Sally, wiping her eyes with her apron. "Why, thaa looked a'most queer enough to mak' a besom-shank laugh;thaa's made my soides ache. "

"Well, it 'll do thee gooid; thaa wants a bit of a change, for thaa'shad heartache lang enough, " responded her husband. 

Sally resumed her work, but said nothing; her only response was adeep-drawn sigh. A few moments of silence again ensued, which Abebroke by saying, "Sally, haa would the' loike to see me wi' a blackface?"

"What's 'ta say?"

"Haa w'd th' loike to see me wi' a black face?" repeated Abe. 

"What art ta going to blacken thee face forr doesn't th' like thee owncolour? what does ta mean?" inquired Sally looking at him. 

"I mean, " replied Abe with great earnestness, "that I'm gooin to turncollier. "

"Nay, niver, lad!" cried his wife in dismay. 

"Why, it's only for a bit till things brighten up in aar loine, andthen thaa knows I can get wark at th' mill agean. "

Poor Sally wept in earnest now; it was a shock to her feelings that shewas not prepared for. At length she said, "I niver thought of theegoin daan a coil-pit, thaa isn't used to it, and thaa 'll happen breakthee neck. "

"Nay, not soa; I've warked mony a day in a coil-pit, " said Abe. "Blessthee, my lass, when I were nowt but a bairn I used to wark i' th' pits;niver fear, I'm an owd hand, I can do a bit o' hewing wi' ony on um. "And then when Abe saw the first burst of feeling on his wife's part wasgiving way, he went on to make good his position: "Thaa knows I mun dosome'at, and there is nowt else I can see to turn to, and it 'll keepus going till I can get back to my own wark; we mu'nt be praad in thesetimes, thaa knows. I'll promise to wesh th' black dust off my faceevery day, " said he, laughing, and trying to get her to do the same. "Cheer up, my lass, we mun look th' rock i' th' face. "

"Ah, th' Lord help us, " responded Sally. 

"Naa I like to year thee say that, " said Abe, "because I believe it wasthe Lord that put it into my yead, for I niver thowt abaat such a thingtill I were telling Him my troubles just naa, and then it came to meall in a moment, like as if someone spake to me, and I says, I'll goa. "

And he did go, and he got employment in one of the coal-pits in theneighbourhood, where he received so much per week as wages, and a lumpof coal every day as large as he could carry home, as a perquisite. Ofcourse he took as big a lump as he could manage, and sometimes he wastempted to overtax his strength. Many a time poor Abe had to stop onthe way home, lift the coal down from his head, where he usuallycarried it, and rub the sore place; and many an expedient, in the wayof padding, had he to resort to, in order to compensate for the softplace which nature, so prodigal in her gifts to some, had denied him. However, day after day he struggled along under his dark and heavyload, each day finding himself oppressed by another weight--of coals. 

The new work was hard and trying to him, but he kept toiling on, andpatiently waiting for the time when his heavenly Father would open upanother sphere for him; meanwhile there was this consolation, that histoils kept fire in the hearth, and bread in the cupboard at home, andknowing this he was happy. He didn't envy any man his wealth, or hisease; he many a time on his way home, with the lump of coal on hishead, was happier than the rich employer who passed him in hiscarriage; he had no ambitious schemes with which to harass his mind, his highest object was to glorify God in a consistent Christian life, and try to lead others to do the same. When his day's work was ended, he could lift his burden on his head, and journey homeward with a lightheart; the only weight he felt was upon his head; many a day he cameover the ground singing, certainly _under a difficulty_, but no matter, he did sing. Abe was an alto singer in the chapel choir, but in thesehomeward songs one would almost fancy he would have to take anotherpart, as the lump on his head would render it rather inconvenient forhim to reach the higher notes; ground-bass would be more in keepingwith his circumstances, and probably he himself was more inclined tosink than soar; be that as it may, he sang and trudged along home, andany one that met him, might know he was happy as a king, aye, andhappier than many. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Clouds begin to Break. 

Abe had not long laboured in the coal-pit before all about him began tofeel he was a good man. He did not hide his light from anyone, mastersor men, and though they may not have followed his godly example andChristian counsel, they all respected him for his pious and consistentlife among them. 

It so turned out that one day the foreman ordered all the men to stayand work overtime at night, in order to complete some important matterwhich they had in hand. This was a terrible blow to Abe, for it washis class-night, and he had never yet missed that means of grace, norwould he, if he could by any possibility get there; but now, what washe to do? He felt it was his duty to obey his master, and take hisshare of the extra work if required; on the other hand, his heartyearned for the fellowship of saints: how dear that little classroomseemed to him then. All the day his mind dwelt upon the subject; hefancied his own accustomed seat empty, and his leader and classmateswondering why he was not there; he prayed earnestly for deliverancefrom this snare, and yet saw no way of escape. Evening came, and theusual hour for leaving work, but no bell rang the men out; on they allwent at their task, and Abe along with the rest, yet all the time hewas groaning in spirit; half an hour passed away, when the foreman camein. He was a hard, resolute man, that seemed to have neither fear ofGod nor devil before his eyes. "Abe Lockwood, " said he, "isn't thisthy class noight?" Abe looked up in an instant, and replied, "It is. ""Drop thee wark this minute and go then; if I'm going to hell, I won'thinder another man from trying to get to a better place, " and beforeAbe could find time to thank him, he was gone again. In a twinklingAbe was out of the place, and away over Almondbury common, like a fleethound just slipt from the leash. He went to his class-meeting and wasvery happy there, but he did not forget in his own happiness to prayfor the man who in this instance had bowed to the better spirit withinhim, and shown him such a mark of favour. 

There is a heart in every man, however hard he may be, and when oncethe Spirit of God assails that heart, He may break it, or at leastreason it into submission. We don't know all the power that God has, nor the many ways in which He can exert that power on the minds of men;we often hinder its operation by our want of faith. O Lord, increaseour faith! Then "all things are possible to him that believeth. "

For some time Abe continued working at the coal-pit. Although he madeno complaints, he greatly disliked the employment, and looked forwardwith intense longing to the time when he could again return to his owncalling. He told the Lord all his heart upon this subject, and oftenimplored Him to lift him out of the pit and bring him again to theemployment that was more congenial to his feelings. Nor did he pray invain, as the following incident will show:--One day a gentleman came tothe pit, and said, "Have you got a man here called Abe Lockwood?" Onbeing answered in the affirmative, he expressed a wish to see him. Abewas at once communicated with, and fetched out of the place where hewas working. On seeing him all begrimed with coal-dust, the gentlemansaid, "I'm sorry to see thee like this, Abe; I have been troubled aboutthee for some time. "

"Have you, haa's that, maaster?"

"Why, I hardly know, but I have felt for many a day that I ought tocome and offer thee work in my place, and now I've come, and if thouwants to leave here, I will find thee something to do in my mill. "

Abe's grateful heart was almost in his throat; his eyes swam in tears, his face beamed with smiles, and he shouted, "Hallelujah! When mun Icome?"

"Come at once if you can. "

"All roight, " said he, "I can leave here ony time. I'll come i' th'morning; bless th' Lord! I knew my Father would foind me another jobsomewhere. "

That night he went home singing with the usual lump of coal on hishead. When he got into the house he threw it down with a crash thatstartled Sally, his wife. "There, " he said, playfully pretending to bevexed, "I'll fetch thee na moor coils on my yead, so thaa needn'texpect it. "

"What's matter wi' the' naa?" she said, looking at him. 

"I tell the' I'll fetch the' na maar coils, " he responded, rubbing hisscalp as if it hurt him. 

"Well then, we may as weel let t' fire goa aat first as last, " rejoinedthe good wife, a little ruffled. 

"Noa thaa shalln't. I loike a gooid foire as weel as onybody; and ifthaa grumbles ony maar, I weant go to th' pit agean. "

Sally looked hard at him for a moment or two, and in spite of the thicklayer of coal-dust on his face, she could see there was a smile justunderneath struggling to burst through. "What dost ta mean?" she said, half laughing herself. 

"Mean!" exclaimed Abe, jumping from his seat, and seizing hold of herhand, "Mean! Why, I mean that I've done with coil-pit; the Lord hasgotten me a job in Huddersfield at my own wark, and I'm goin' in th'morning, bless th' Lord!"

Sally smiled, wiped her eyes, and said quietly, "Well I niver; aye, butI am glad; come and get thee teaa, my old collier. " And that nightthere was sunshine in Abe's cottage hours after the great orb of dayhad gone down and left the world in darkness. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Salem Chapel. 

Close to the entrance of the village, at the top of the main street, and within five minutes' walk of the railway station, stands theMethodist New Connexion Chapel of Berry Brow. It is situated on theright-hand side of the street coming from Huddersfield; being on lowerground than the road, it has from this point a stunted appearance. Pursuing the decline and curve of the street a little further bringsyou to the vertex of a triangle of level ground, on the base of whichthe chapel stands. It is fronted by a graveyard, whose two sidesgradually converge towards a little iron gateway at the entrance. 

Seen from here the chapel presents a more pleasing appearance, thougheven now an observer could not fail to be struck with the dwarfish lookof the building; there is a want of height to give it properproportion. It shows a plain stone front, which suggests that the goodpeople who built it had no money to spend in costly ornamentation. SALEM, the honoured name of the chapel, is inscribed on the front. TheSunday-school, which is of more recent date, stands adjoining it on theleft; the foreground treasures up the dust of many pious pilgrims who, in the days gone by, came to this house of peace. The chapel has twodoors in the front; inside, the appearance is exceedingly plain; thepulpit is stationed with its back against the front wall, and isenclosed by a pew that was formerly occupied by the choir, but nowmostly by the speakers at the public meetings, for, being somewhatelevated, it serves as a permanent platform. The plan of the sittingsis a simple rising gallery, springing from the floor half-way to theceiling, and traversed by two aisles leading direct from eitherdoorway; in a recess abutting through the right-hand wall, the organ isfixed. The chapel is capable of accommodating about three hundredpersons, though there have been times when, somewhere or other, it hasafforded room to much larger numbers of people that have crushed withinits limited space. Altogether, it is a plain, unpretentious structure, by no means equal to the growing requirements of the prosperous Churchthat worships there in these days. 

Salem Chapel, like many other places of worship, has its story, full ofsacred incident and interest. It has been the religious birthplace ofhundreds of precious souls, many of whom are now in glory, while othersare journeying thitherward. Many of the ablest ministers the MethodistNew Connexion has ever had, have counted it a joy to preach in that oldsanctuary. 

Several revivals of the work of God have broken out within those walls, and spread with such rapidity and power through the neighbourhood, thatSatan's strongholds have trembled before them; and in the great day ofthe Lord it will be said of Salem, "This and that man were born there. "

But before it was built the people used to attend the High StreetChapel, Huddersfield, which involved a walk of over two miles each way, and this in unfavourable weather was no light task. The time came, however, when they began seriously to entertain the idea of having aplace of worship in their own village. 

Abe Lockwood was among the chief advocates of this scheme, and it wasmainly owing to his activity in the matter that the undertaking was atlength commenced and completed. In the month of July 1823, Abe, fullof the new Chapel enterprize, entered a harvest field belonging to Mr. S---- of Armitage Fold, where several members of the Society were atwork, and took upon himself to announce that there would be a meetingin a certain house that night, for the purpose of considering whetherthey were to have a Chapel in Berry Brow. The meeting was held, andthe decision taken in favour of the movement. They would arise andbuild, so in God's name they began the work. 

It was a serious undertaking for them, as most of the members were poorworking people, but they were in earnest, and at once opened asubscription list, each of them promising something to the fund beforethey went outside to solicit help from any one else. They thenobtained further promises from others, and arranged to gather the moneyby weekly instalments, some being as little as a penny. Then, in orderto save cost as much as possible, the men themselves went and delved inthe quarry for stones, and borrowed horses and carts of the farmers toremove the material to the chapel site, and when it sometimes happenedthat they could not obtain the use of horses, they got the loan ofcarts, and the men, old and young, took the horse-work themselves, anddrew the stones to the building place. 

In all this Abe was a foremost worker, toiling early and late, andasking any one and every one to come to their help, by which means theygot many of the wild young men of the village to assist in the work. This did not, however, meet with universal approval; there were somefew very good people, who mostly employed themselves in looking on, giving directions, and finding fault, who said it was not right tobring a lot of ungodly young men into a work so sacred; theyexpostulated with Abe on the subject, he being the chief cause of theirenlistment, but he replied, "Not roight for them to help in buildingth' Lord's haase! It must be roight; if they soil th' stones withtheir fingers, God will put them roight again when He gets into it. Iwouldn't care if th' devil hissen were to come and drag stones for th'place, if only Jesus is preached in it afterwards;" so the croakersdidn't gain anything by their complaints, except rejoinders from Abe, which taught them a little good sense, and they went on with thebuilding. 

The foundation stone was laid on Shrove Tuesday 1824, and the chapelwas opened for religious services on Good Friday 1825. The Rev. ThomasAllin preached on that occasion with his usual extraordinary ability. From that time until now the cause has never looked back, but hasmaintained a steady onward course. Seasons of trial and depressionhave occasionally gathered over it like dark clouds, but the earnestband of Christian people it has drawn together, have been conductedunder the clouds in safety, and have lived to come out again into thesunshine of prosperity. 

There is not a trouble or a joy, not a throb of sorrow or a thrill ofdelight that ever came to that church during those years, which AbeLockwood did not feel. He was so mixed and wrapt up in its history andworkings that he counted its very pulsations as distinctly as he felthis own. In later years, when other labourers were brought into thechurch, and his services as a local preacher came into greater demand, many of the duties involved in conducting the cause fell into otherhands; but Abe's love for Salem never did and never could diminish; tohim it was the most beautiful sanctuary in the Circuit or out of it;and there it stands as a monument of the zeal and devotion of thoseearnest men who more than fifty years ago laid its foundations, andreared its sacred walls in the name of the Lord. 

They are nearly all gone to their reward, Abe among them, but in nosense more than this is the Scripture fulfilled, "He being dead yetspeaketh. "

CHAPTER X. 

Abe becomes a Local Preacher. 

Several years had passed away from the date of Abe's marriage, and afamily of young children had sprung up around him, filling his cottagewith life, and keeping him and his active wife constantly employed tosupply their daily necessities. Hard times they had during thoseyears, but they held on their honest way, content with what they got, and envying no one that was in better circumstances than themselves. 

During all these years Abe continued a devoted follower of Christ; hewas always at the means of grace, and his chief aim was to be a truedisciple of the cross. At the same time he was slowly acquiringability to speak in the meetings with more propriety and effect. 

Methodist prayer-meetings and class-meetings are excellent trainingschools for public speakers. Most of the best ministers in Methodismfirst learnt to talk in these little meetings, where they have had, week by week, opportunities of expressing their thoughts and feelingsupon their religious life and experience; and although there are somewho have profited but very little by the benefits afforded in this way, there are many others who have made their way from that humblebeginning up to the highest ranks of the Christian ministry. 

In this training institution Abe slowly and steadily improved hispowers, till some of his friends began to think he ought to have hisname placed on the Circuit plan as an exhorter. It was accordinglymentioned to him, but for some time met with no very favourableresponse from Abe. "Come on t' plan, " exclaimed he; "nay, not soa, unless you want to mak' a clerk o' me; but I can say Amen, withoutbeing planned. "

However, circumstances sometimes happen which have more force ofargument in them than anything that men can say. It occasionallytranspired, that some local preacher who was planned to preach in SalemChapel did not come to his appointment, and some person in thecongregation had to take the vacant place, and conduct the service aswell as he might be able without any previous preparation. Now itappears that Abe found himself placed just in this very unenviableposition. The congregation were all in the chapel; the hour of servicehad come, and passed, yet no preacher arrived; the people werewhispering and looking at the clock; one brother went to the door tosee if there were any sign of the preacher's coming; two or three ofthe leading brethren were whispering together, and then one of themcame over to Abe and said, "I'm afraid there's going to be no preacher, thou'll be like to try and talk a bit this morning. "

"Me, noa, I canna praach, mun, " said Abe, evidently agitated. 

"Aye, but thou can; thou'll have to try, and we'll pray for thee. "

Abe turned pale, looked up at the little pulpit, then down on theground, and then said, "I've now't to talk abaat, noa, I canna tak'it. " Then another brother came and united his persuasion to that ofthe man already with him, and at length Abe arose and went into thesinging pew in front of the pulpit, pale and trembling, and announced ahymn. The service began, and grew into a kind of compromise between aprayer meeting and preaching. The preacher took a text, and in his ownstyle did his best to speak from the words, --the probability is he _didspeak from them_, further from them than critical hearers would judgeproper, but what of that? He did his best, and there were none in thecongregation but knew him and knew his consistent life; and althoughwhat he said was very unpreaching-like, it did not matter; the peoplewere well pleased, and Abe was very glad when it was over. 

After the first time this occurred again and again in Salem, until Abebegan to be looked upon as the general stop-gap, as they called him. But he was not to occupy that post always; it was only thestepping-stone to something else, for by-and-bye some of the localpreachers would take him out with them to their appointments, and lethim talk to the people as well as he was able. Wherever he went theysaid he must be sure and come again; he was so quaint, droll, plain, yet withal so fervent, that everyone enjoyed his remarks, and wished tohear him again. 

About the year 1833, and during the ministry of the Revs. J. Curtis andG. Bradshaw in the Huddersfield Circuit, an incident took place whichwill give an idea of the style of Abe's early preaching efforts. Itwas on one Shrove Tuesday afternoon that he had to preach atPaddock;--the service was at that time conducted in a cottage;--a gooddeal of talk had been indulged in by the people in anticipation ofAbe's visit, and a great amount of curiosity and interest was excited. The place was full. Abe arrived, rubbing his hands, and blessing theLord, and immediately took his place, and commenced the service. Hisprayer was like himself, rough and earnest; Divine power came down uponthe little company, and tears of joy ran from all eyes. He selected alesson with which he was familiar, and managed the reading verycreditably. Abe then took his text, the subject being Abraham offeringup his son Isaac on Mount Moriah. Just at that moment the Rev. J. Curtis came into the service. Now the unexpected appearance of theSuperintendent Minister, under circumstances like those, would haveunnerved most young preachers, but it had no such effect on Abe; he nosooner set his eyes on him, than he said, "Naa thaa sees I'm at it, we're just baan off to Mount Moriah, and thaa mun goa too, " and off hewent in a style peculiarly his own. 

He drew some very amusing pictures of the patriarch, his son, and theyoung men preparing for the journey; he had Abraham ordering theservant men to do this, fetch that, undo something else; he had a dealof trouble in saddling the asses, those animals exhibiting theobstinate tendencies for which their descendants are even yet sorenowned; all was at length ready, Abraham and his attendants weremounted and setting off, when the door was again opened, and in walkedthe Rev. G. Bradshaw, the young minister. At sight of him Abe shouted, "Aye, lad, thaa art baan to be too late, we've gotten th' mules saddledand had a'most gone withaat thee, but niver moind, thaa mun catch amule for theesen, and come on behind. " So away they went, Abe takingthe lead, and the people mentally following. 

He preached them such a sermon as they had never heard in theirlives--nor anybody else. Now they laughed at his odd sayings andgrotesque pictures, and then with melting feelings they praised God asthey listened to some of the simple yet truly beautiful sayings whichfell from his lips. As a sermon, there was enough to find fault with, for he knew nothing about the art of sermonizing, and cared as little;but it was so full of homely truth and spiritual feeling, that everyone, ministers not excepted, forgave the faults, and said it was ameans of grace. 

In this way Abe continued for some time, occasionally preaching withoutbeing officially recognized, but at length his name was placed on theplan as a local preacher on trial. When the term of his probation wasalmost expired, Abe was required to preach one week-night in HighStreet Chapel, Huddersfield. 

HIS TRIAL SERMON. 

It was a terrible trial for him, which appears strange, considering howeasy he felt when the Circuit ministers heard him in the little room atPaddock, yet so it was; and as the time came on, Abe thought he nevercould show his face in High Street. Had it been anywhere else he wouldnot have cared, but he had a dread of the Circuit Chapel. He had goneto several of the country places during the year, and sometimes didvery well; but then, he felt at home among the plain village people;they could understand his broad vernacular, and make allowance for hisblunders, which he knew were not a few, but in High Street everythingwas different. He thought they could not exercise the same forbearancetowards him, and so he shrank from the task. 

But then he remembered it was not a place of his own seeking; that itwas a trial which other plain men had undergone before him, and woulddo again, and he could not expect more favour than his brethren; so hemust go and do his best, trusting in the Lord for help. And thatevening Sally brushed him up, and had his clogs polished, and away hewent to Huddersfield. There was a good congregation to hear him, andamong others several local preachers. Abe was very nervous, andeverything around conspired to make him so. He was in High StreetChapel, awful; he had to preach, worse; to preach a trial sermon, worsethan ever; before all these grand folks, and in the presence of theSuperintendent, it was blinding, sickening, confounding. He started atthe sound of his own voice, and when he tried to speak, he somehow saidjust what he didn't intend, and made more mistakes than he had eithertime or sense to rectify; then, whenever he moved his feet, his clogsclamped on the floor in such a way as he had never heard them anywhereelse; he was in a fever of excitement and fear. However, he had topreach; so having announced his text, he commenced his sermon, but itwas evidently hard for him to say anything; he tried and tried, rolledhis eyes up and all around, clasped his hands, uttered a few sentences, scratched his head, and exclaimed, "Friends, I'm plogged" (meaning hecould not go on), "she weant goa; if this is preaching trial sermon, I'll niver try another; we'll be like to swap texts" (try anothertext). Now while he was finding another text, the congregation sang ahymn, and by the time this was done, Abe was ready with his text, whichhe announced and again started to speak, but with no greater success, for it seemed as if all his ideas were gone wool-gathering. Hecoughed, stammered, and sweat at every pore, but brought forth nothingelse; an encouraging word or two from one of the brethren was verywelcome at that moment, for looking towards him, Abe said, "She weantgoa, but we'll try another. "

Twice breaking down in one service would have satisfied any ordinaryman in his circumstances, and so daunted many as that they would neverhave been heard of again; but Abe was no ordinary man, and was not soonkilled; he had come there to try to preach, and it was evident toeveryone that he was trying; he knew that if he made another attempt hecould not do worse than he had done, and he might do better, and if hedid break down there would not be anything very unusual in it, seeingit would make the third time, so he found another text and announcedit. Everybody was wide awake and ready for another stop, but Abesmiled, brightened up, and went on; "She's baan to goa this time, I dobelieve, " said he, and so it proved, for when he got into his subjecthe spoke very fluently, sensibly, and naturally, and all present feltthat Abe could preach when he got started, and how could he or any oneelse preach without starting?

A short time after this eventful service Abe had to pass throughanother trying ordeal. His case had to come before the Circuitquarterly meeting, the tribunal which has made many an innocent mantremble. There he had to be examined as to his acquaintance with andbelief in the Methodist doctrines, rules, etc. What may have been themerits of this examination we are unable to state; probably there was agood deal of leniency shown by the meeting towards Abe. If he wasdeficient on some points, he compensated in others; if he could notdefine and defend all the articles of our faith, he could believe themas fully as any one else; be that as it may, there was no seriousobjection taken to him on the ground of his examination, but the affairof the trial sermon was not so soon got over, and a good deal ofspecial pleading had to be done for him by his friends, which is nounusual thing when the merits of a candidate are under discussion. That "swapping of texts" no less than three times was a veryextraordinary feature in the case, and called forth some severecensures. A man that did so could not be fit to come on the Circuitplan as an accredited local preacher, so some in the meeting felt andsaid; but others thought differently; they could not but admit thatunder the circumstances he had done a good thing even in changing textsthe third time, and why impeach the man for doing a good thing? Theman who changes horses in crossing a stream may incur great risks; butif the horse he is riding be sinking under him, he must change seats orsink too, and this is just what Abe did, and the outcome showed that hedid the best thing, for the third horse carried him over. He at leastpossessed an amount of perseverance which few men in similarcircumstances would have exhibited; then he must not be estimatedsolely by what he was when under trial in High Street chapel. How hadhe done in other places? Here the tide began to tell in his favour, asfirst one and then another spoke in commendation of his labour in otherplaces, and at length Brother Haigh rose and said, "Abe Lockwood waswith me on Sunday night at Mills Bridge; I heard him preach, and he didmy soul good. After the sermon an old man seventy years of age cameout, sought the Lord, and found Him; that old man was impressed underAbe's sermon, which shows that God can do with his preaching. Whatmatter if he does sometimes break down in his sermons? he knows how tobreak sinners down too, and after all, that is the best sort ofpreaching. " He was at once cordially received into the ranks of thelocal preachers, and appeared as such in January 1837; and from thattime to the end of his life was as earnest, devoted, and popular as anyman among that band, as worthy a band of men as ever worked a Methodistcircuit. 

So Abe became a local preacher, and while he always felt and said thatthe office honoured him, he, on the other hand, did his utmost tohonour the position which the Church had called him to occupy. Methodism owes very much to those brave, earnest, and godly men whohave, during all her history, through all her struggles, labouredcheerfully on, year after year, often at immense personal sacrifice andsuffering, carrying the tidings of salvation to outstanding districts, which would seldom have heard the Gospel but for their disinterestedservices. Their toils cannot have been for worldly honours, wherecould they win them? They cannot have been for pecuniary gain, becausetheir labours have ever been gratuitous, and often expensive tothemselves;--pelted with hailstones, dripping with rain, torn bystorms, blistered with sun-heat, in all parts of the land, over milesof barren hills and wild moor, through dirty lanes and new-ploughedfields, giving ungrudgingly of their strength; Sunday after Sundayleaving the home enjoyments of their family and the sanctuary to carrythe Gospel of Christ to those afar off. What will the Master do tothose brave labourers of His in the day of award? He will make themgreat in the Kingdom of Heaven. 

CHAPTER XI

In Practice. 

We may now consider that Abe had really commenced practice as a localpreacher, and before long the numerous demands made upon himprofessionally showed the estimation in which he was held among thepeople. But there was one thing which gave him considerable trouble, and that was his preparation for the pulpit. This was a great toil tohim, but he counted himself abundantly rewarded when he found that Godmade his simple, earnest sayings a blessing to the people to whom hepreached. Abe had no quiet room in his house into which he couldretire for the purpose of meditation. His home was full of children, and each of the little rooms resounded with their merry or troubledoutcries from morning till night. His study was elsewhere. There wasone spot more sacred to him than any other in the world, and that wasat the old tree-root on Almondbury Common, where, years before, hefound the blessing of Divine pardon. To that Bethel he often turnedhis steps, and there would he run through his sermons with no audiencebut the old tree and the little brook; and although his earnestaddresses produced no manifest change either on the stoical old elm, orthe unstable stream, the practice of speaking did him good, and helpedto make him more effective when he came to address a more appreciativeassembly. 

His frequent visits to this sacred and secret spot began, by-and-by, tobe known among his acquaintances, and some of them determined to go andwatch him, and make fun of it. They accordingly went and hidthemselves where they could both see and hear all that passed. Abecame and began the service, prayed and preached with great liberty, considering the irresponsive audience before him; but while he waspreaching and pointing out the folly and danger of sin, and exhortingto repentance, his words were reaching unknown ears, and searchingtheir way into more hearts than he was aware of. These spies werecaught in their own net; they felt the truth of the simple preaching. They knew those words applied more to themselves than anything else. They listened in fear and silence, and when they would gladly have gotbeyond the sound of his voice, they dared not move lest he shoulddiscover them, and make his discourse even more personal. When thepreacher had prayed earnestly, and had retired from his ruralsanctuary, the hidden and moveable part of his congregation were gladto get away. Some of the callous ones endeavoured afterwards to chaffAbe about the open-air service, but most of them were glad to saynothing on the subject, inwardly determining never again to ventureprofanely within the sacred precincts of the good man's sanctuary. 

Abe gradually grew in the esteem of the people throughout the entireCircuit, so that his coming to preach was quite an event of interestamong them. They knew he was in earnest for his Master's glory; andthough he sometimes said and did things which some men would shrinkfrom, and some would condemn if done by others, no one was displeasedat them in little Abe. He was a favourite, and special privileges wereaccorded him, so that he could say and do just as he pleased. He knewthis quite well, and, though he seldom fell into the error of using itas a license, it had the effect of bringing him out in his own truecharacter. 

Sometimes he became very happy in the pulpit, and fairly jumped forjoy. He was preaching at Shepley, and, as was his frequent custom, hehad a brother local preacher in the pulpit with him, to assist in thepreliminary exercises. On this occasion our old friend T. Holden actedas his curate. Abe was blessed with great liberty during the deliveryof the sermon: he wept, clapped his hands, stamped his feet, andrattled his clogs together. Brother Holden shuffled about to make roomfor him as well as he could in the narrow area of the pulpit, but hewas not quick enough; down came Abe's foot on the curate's toes, almostcapsizing the preacher, without in the least disconcerting him. "Moindthee toas, lad, steam's up, I mun jump a bit. " And he did jump, themore freely, too, when his assistant retired from his exalted position, and left him all the pulpit to himself. It is evident from this littleevent just narrated, and others which might be given, that Abe did, intime, overcome his nervousness in the pulpit; being "plogged, " and"breaking down, " became things of the past, and he began to feel asmuch at home in the pulpit as in his own house. So far did he showthat "practice makes perfect. "

CHAPTER XII. 

"Butterfly Preachers. "

Abe had no sympathy with men who allowed themselves to be calledpreachers, and yet could treat with indifference the work which wasallotted to them on the Circuit plan; men who seldom made their mindsup to go to their work, until they saw what kind of weather it waslikely to be; men who didn't like going out in the rain for fear ofgetting damp, nor in the wind because it exhausted them, nor in the sunbecause it broiled them, nor in the dark for fear they might miss theirway. He called them "Butterfly preachers, " and often declared he wouldbe ashamed to be counted among them. 

Yet he did not lay all the blame of their conduct upon the shoulders ofthese men, because he thought the people helped in some measure to put"butterfly notions" into their minds. If a good man came to hisappointment through the rain and wind, and got somewhat badly used bythe weather, someone was almost sure to say something to frighten anddishearten him from ever doing so again. "Oh dear, have you come inall this rain? Well, I hardly thought you would be here; nobody couldblame you for staying at home on such a day; you are very wet, you'llbe sure to take cold and be laid up, " and Abe used to say that kind oftalk was enough to give a chill to any man, and tempt him to stay athome next time for fear it might rain. 

It did not make any difference to him, however; he went in allweathers, rain or sunshine, winter and summer. There is a little dittyhe used to sing--

 "Come rain or come blow, A Methodist preacher, I must go. "

One Sunday morning he was planned to preach at Shepley, and it waspouring down rain. He, however, set off under his umbrella; but longbefore he reached his destination he was drenched to the skin. Priorto going into the chapel he called at the house where he was going todine that day; the good woman was grieved to see him in such acondition. "Dear me, " said she, "you are almost drowned; come in, takeyour wet clothes off, and go to bed. " "Nay, nay, " replied Abe, "yo'mun't tak' me for a butterfly preacher; I'm noan going to bed i'dayloight, I'm baan to praach. " And turning to her husband, who was abig man, he said, "Thaa mun lend me some o' thy claathes. " Theproposal to adorn himself in his host's clothes seemed so ridiculous, considering that Abe was a little man, that both husband and wifelaughed right out. "Aye, " said the man, "thou would look a queerbutterfly going into th' pulpit in my wings. " But Abe wasn't to be putoff: "Come, " said he, "thaa mun foind me some o' thy claathes. " Theyfound him a spare suit, and in a few minutes he came downstairs fullyattired, and presenting such a figure that the man and his wife werealmost ill with laughing at him. It signified nothing to Abe wholaughed or who didn't; off he went to chapel. He was a few minuteslate, and most of the congregation were in their places. He wastherefore very eager to get to the pulpit; but in going across thechapel for this purpose, one of his borrowed shoes slipped off, whichbrought him to a sudden standstill, and caused special attention to bedrawn to his singular outfit; and the moment the people comprehendedthe state of things, it was impossible to suppress a laugh in old oryoung; and yet while they laughed at his odd figure, their heartswarmed towards him as they thought of his zeal in coming so far, onsuch a day, to preach to them. 

That morning Abe had a good time in the pulpit. He was very lively, and knocked about a good deal; but it was noticed that he hadfrequently to be looking down on the pulpit floor, and shuffling aboutwith his feet. It afterwards came out, that, in his excited moments, he had dropped his shoes off, and in getting them on again, had mixedthem, and put his feet into the wrong receptacles. This occasioned hima considerable amount of inconvenience, which ultimately exhausted hispatience. He kicked the shoes aside, and said, "I have been trying allth' mornin' to stand in another man's shoes, and I canna' manage it;I'm in borrowed claathes, too, but, thank God, my sermon is my own. "This little diversion set him off in another direction, and he turnedthe incident to such good and practical account, showing that Jesusonce stood in our place and bore our stripes, that many have longremembered that service with very great pleasure. 

TOILING ON. 

On one occasion, when going to a distant appointment, his zeal was putto the test in such a degree that surely he would have been excusableif he had turned back and gone home again. Abe had a dread ofdisappointing a congregation. He used to say, "If I slip them once, two to one they'll pay me back; noa, I mun goa. "

He had to set out one Sunday morning in a pelting rain for a walk ofabout six miles. It had been raining more or less for several days;the roads were in a sad condition for a "travelling praacher, " as heoften styled himself. The streams by the roadside were swollen over, and pouring their abundance out on the highroad, until it was verylittle better than a bog. Under these circumstances the wet soon foundits way through Abe's boots and clothes. "Ne'er moind, " he said tohimself, "I'll find some dry claathes when I get there. " So on he wentover the rough bleak hill that wouldn't afford shelter for a rabbit, much less for a man, down the steep slope, through the running guttersof water. "Aye dear, " said he, "I'm weshing my feet withaat taking mybooits off. " At the bottom of the hill, known as Stone's Wood Bottom, he was brought to a standstill. Along this bottom runs the river whichtakes the course of the valley through Berry Brow, before named; it washere spanned by a good strong bridge, having a wall on either side. The water in the river had risen so high with the rainfall, that it ranright over the bridge at both ends, and threatened to carry it away;all the low ground about the bridge was under water to some depth, andhereby Abe was brought to a halt. His only way was over that bridge, and now that was not available. "Well, " thought he, "I'm done thistime; haa can I get over?" Further up and down the river was swollen, over its boundaries, and was out into the fields, while at the bridgeit rushed along like a torrent. "Naa, Lord, " Abe began, "Thaa knowswhere I'm plann'd to-day, and Thaa knows this is my only rooad to th'place; that's Thy watter, and I'm Thy sarvant; I mun be over somehaa;tak' care o' my body while I try. " And into the water he plunged, andmade straight for the bridge. On reaching this he tucked his umbrellaunder one arm, and climbed up on the wall of the bridge, and scrambledacross on his hands and knees, while the torrent rushed alongunderneath at a horse-pace. Had he fallen into the water he wouldprobably have been found drowned on one of the banks down the river, but it was not permitted. "Bless the Lord, " he exclaimed, when he wassafe on the other side, "I'm over! Ah! but I'll do better nor thatwhen I come to pass the swellings o' Jordan! Hallelujah! I'll go overJordan withaat wetting a threead on me!"

So thou wilt, Abe. Jordan's waves could not harm a brave, God-fearing, and God-honouring man like thee; they know a true-born saint by thetramp of his foot in the darkest night of death, and on his approach, they fall back into line like Royal Guards when the king goes past. 

 "Though waves and storms go o'er my head, Though strength, and health, and friends be gone; Though joys be withered all and dead, Though every comfort be withdrawn; On this my steadfast soul relies, Father, Thy mercy never dies. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

Various Ways out of Difficulties. 

Almost any one can get into trouble, but it is not always so easy forany one to get out again. Abe knew both ways, --the way in and the wayout, --and many a time he had to run the gauntlet, and save himself asbest he could. 

There is an amusing story told of a little passage which the Rev. P. J. Wright once had with him. They met on a Sunday morning at the Honleyrailway station. Mr. Wright was at that time Superintendent of theCircuit, and was on his way to preach at Woodroyd, whilst Abe was goingto Honley on a similar errand. After exchanging the ordinarysalutations, the reverend gentleman said, "Well, Abe, what are yougoing to give them at Honley this morning?" On being informed of Abe'ssubject, he further inquired how he intended to treat it; whereupon hiscompanion began to give an outline of his sermon. When he hadfinished, his interrogator rejoined, "Why, you are wrong, altogether, Abe, you must change the order of your divisions, and put the firstlast, and the last first; you have got the cart before the horse. ""Ne'er moind, " said Abe, "I'll back her up th' hill. Good-morning, sir. " "Cart before the horse" was no insuperable difficulty with Abe;he knew how to manage his own pony, and must drive in his own way; hewas not very particular which came first so long as he could "mak' hergoa. " He took what suited his mind best, and paid very littleattention to the rules of sermonizing; he was in this respect a lawunto himself, and the favour with which his humble ministrations werereceived was a sufficient excuse for him. 

We have heard a sermon described as a thing having three or more heads;it is said to be sometimes altogether void of body or matter of anysort; at other times it appears as a skeleton, without form orcomeliness, having only the barest outline. Perhaps this in somemeasure explains why some people so seldom attend our places ofworship; they fear to come _within the reach_ of a sermon, andtherefore stay away, --they have heard of some persons that have been_actually struck_ with a sermon, and of others _being fastened to theirseats_ by it; how dreadful! Ah, anything will do for an excuse whenpeople don't want to go to the Lord's house; "a poor excuse is said tobe better than none at all, " but in this case we doubt the wisdom ofthat saying. 

Abe Lockwood was not very particular about the number of heads in hissermons, or whether they had any heads at all; his care was that thesermon should have some soul in it, wherefrom mainly resulted his powerin the pulpit. 

There is sometimes very great danger of sermonizing all the force outof a discourse; making it so very proper that it serves more as anornament than a thing of practical use; it appears more a work of _art_than a work of _heart_. Abe didn't profess to understand the rules ofsermonizing, nor did he make any particular effort in that direction;as may be supposed, therefore, he was often disconnected and irregular, but he knew nothing about it, and nobody else cared; people liked himas he was. His sentences were not like beautiful stones turned andpolished by the hand of a lapidary, but they were rough lumps, in allshapes, broken from the great rock of Gospel truth, having their sharppoints and jagged edges on them; the consequence being that when slungfrom the hand of this humble champion they left a mark wherever theystruck. He didn't care for that round, smooth kind of preaching whichalways rolls off; he liked the word to strike, mark, and abide where itfell. He had no sympathy with high-flown sermons which shut out theCross of Jesus and those good old Gospel truths associated with thatdear emblem of God's love to the world. If such a discourse weredelivered in his hearing he was sure to say something about it. "Praacher brought us a lot of butterflies and fancy birds and let 'emfly abaat th' chapel, and while we wore starin' abaat after th' birds, we niver gat a soight o' th' Cross. "

A young student from Ranmoor College came to preach at Berry Brow. Abewas in the vestry waiting to see him before he went into the pulpit. He shook him warmly by the hand and blessed him, then added in his owndroll but kind way, "Naa, my lad, don't let's hav' ony starry heavenst' day, tak' us t' th' Cross!" Had Abe known this young man he wouldalso have known there was no need to exhort him to "tak' them t' th'Cross. " The fact was, Abe didn't want to follow any astronomicalpreacher all through the heavens, striding from star to star withscales in his hand trying their weight, sizes, and distances! "TheCross" was his watchword and rallying-point; there he loved to begin, and there he would always end. Christ the Redeemer was his star, andin the clear unclouded view of that Divine orb he was happy whoever wasthe preacher. 

"PUCKER IT IN, LADS. "

In his pulpit exercises Abe generally enjoyed great self-command, andthings which would have disabled many a man in the same position, hadlittle or no effect on him. This was not always the case, as we shallhave occasion to show, but usually nothing disturbed the even balanceof his mind. We have already seen how if a text "wouldn't goa, " hecould "swap" for another that would "goa. " So if he failed to get holdof a thought which had been in his mind before, he did not troublehimself about the matter; he would just tell the people "he hadforgotten th' next idea, " and then pass on to something else. 

His self-possession stood him in good stead one day, and helped tocarry others through a trouble as well. He was in one of the countrypulpits, and had just announced the second hymn, which was a longmetre. The choir commenced to sing a common metre tune to the hymn, but before they had got through the second line they found out themistake, and one after another dropped their voices and ceased to sing. One tenacious brother, who did not like to be beaten, held on, and madea jumble of the words for a few moments, and then he stopped; whereuponAbe clapped his hands, and turning around to the choir, he exclaimed, "Ne'er moind, lads, pucker it in! pucker it in! Onybody can mak' along metre tune goa to a long metre hymn, but yo' mun beat that, " andthen he joined heartily in the puckering exercise, and helped themthrough their trouble. 

"BREAD OF LIFE FREE. "

At another time he had been preaching about the Gospel being the breadof life for the world, and showing up its qualities and worth;especially did he dwell upon its freeness for all, that it could be had"without money and without price;" this was his last point, and he mademuch of it. Now it so happened that immediately on concluding hissermon he had to announce a collection. On sitting down in the pulpitwhile it was being made, the thought flashed into his mind that he hadcontradicted his own teachings by announcing that collection. He knewwhere the snare had come from, and at once in his own way broke itasunder. Rising again to his feet and bending over the pulpit front, he cast his eyes around the chapel as if trying to find someone. "Iknow that voice, " he began, "it's the devil's. " Every eye was on himin a moment. "What does thaa say?" "That I ha' not been spaking th'truth, because I telled them th' bread of life wor free, and naa I'masking th' people to pay for it. Thaa knaws as weall as I do th' breadis FREE, but we mun pay for th' baking. Mak' th' collection, friends, to pay for th' baking, and ne'er moind him. " We need hardly say thepeople gave willingly to this collection, for they knew very well thatthough the Gospel was free to the whole world, expenses were incurredin carrying on God's work which they should help to disburse, so Abegot out of that difficulty. 

"MY GOD SHALL SUPPLY ALL YOUR NEED. "

The Wesleyan Superintendent Minister was planned to preach oneweek-night near Berry Brow, and on some account he could not attend. Asubstitute had to be found, and Abe was waited on during the day, tosee if he would act in that capacity. "I'll try, " he said, andaccordingly when the time came he set out for the chapel. Some of thecongregation knew who was to preach, others did not. At length thedoor opened, and in walked Abe, and made straight for the pulpit, clamp, clamp, with his wooden clogs on the floor and up the pulpitstairs. He began the service with the usual smile on his face; then heannounced his text, "My God shall supply all your need, " and closed theBible as he always did as soon as the text was read. "Naa, " said he, "I knaw some o' yo are disappointed at seeing me here instead of yourpraacher, but it was oather me or nobody. Naa, if th' travellingpraacher had come to-noight, he moight easily ha' praached a muchbetter sermon than I can, but I'll defy him or onybody else to foind agrander text than this; it's a raight un, and it's your own fault ifyou doan't get some good aat on't: if the Lord had thought you _needed_it, He would have sent you somebody better than me, for He will supplyall your need. " The congregation saw at once the condition they wouldhave been in if Abe had not come to their help. They smiled at hisremarks, and from that moment forgot their disappointment, nor did theythink of it again during all that service. Thus Abe's tact in managingpeople helped him happily through this difficulty, as it had throughmany others in his lifetime. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Abe's Titles and Troubles. 

It is time we said something on this subject, as we are come to thestage in his life when he began to be known by various dignifiedecclesiastical titles. He loved his own plain name, Abe Lockwood, better than any other, and therefore wanted no improvement. That wasthe name in the roll of the Church, and that was the name written inthe Lamb's book of life; he wanted no other. If any one addressed himas Mr. Lockwood he would often break in, "They call me Abe Lockwood!"and this was no pretended humility on his part, but the expression of asincere preference for the name by which he had always been known amonghis friends: but the time came when it was impossible for him to resistthe universal custom of saluting him by some title, so he had to yieldto the inevitable. 

A story is told, how that on one occasion a parcel of clothes came tothe house for his wife and children. It was wrapped in strong brownpaper, and on the address-label was written "Abraham Lockwood, Esq. "Soon after this, he was taking part in a public meeting in the placefrom which the present was supposed to have come, and in his speech hethanked the unknown donor; and having done this, he proceeded tocorrect a mistake which, he said, had occurred; the person who sent himthat parcel had addressed him as Esquire. "Naa, " said he, "I doan'tstand much upon titles, but if I am to have ony, I think I ought tohave what falls to me by my birth. Yo' know, I'm a Prince of th' RoyalFamily, I'm a King's Son, my Father is th' King of Glory, and no mancan say that, unless he is born of God, and I am, Hallelujah!"Although there may not be anything original in this, yet the happy wayin which he worked it into his speech, and the use he made of it toshow the necessity of the new birth, was exceedingly pleasing. 

The title of "Bishop, " or "Bishop of Berry Brow, " was one of those bywhich he became familiarly known. This arose out of the position heheld in the society there, almost like that of father among themembers, and also from the amount of preaching he did all over theCircuit. Although this very reverend title brought him no increase tohis stipend, nor any change in his social standing, it helped to showthe general feeling with which he was everywhere regarded. 

But the designation by which he was most familiarly known was "LITTLEABE. " This came into every-day use, and was unconsciously adopted byalmost every person either in speaking to him, or speaking of him. Even the little children in the streets and in the Sunday Schools, hearing it from their elders, insensibly fell into the habit of stylinghim "Little Abe. "

As this title is somewhat expressive of size, it may be well to conveysome idea of

ABE'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE

He was below the average height and of slender build, yet withal atough little man, and capable of performing as much work, and enduringas great fatigue, as men who are much bigger and stouter made. Abeused playfully to say, "Good stuff is mostly wrapped in small parcels. ""A penny is a great deal bigger than a sovereign, but yo' all knowwhich to tak' when yo' have your choice. " "I'm nobbut a little un, butbless God, I'm big enough for th' Holy Ghost to dwell in. " "I doan'ttak' up much room in th' world, but I'm as happy as if I were as big asBerry Braa Church. " "I'm a little un mysen, but my Father is greaterthan all. "

His face was one of the happiest it was ever our good fortune to meetwith. A smooth, round, ruddy, comfortable face, over which the razorhad almost unlimited sway; his mouth was always in shape for a smile;his eyes were of a light blue colour, and twinkled with life andvivacity; his hair was always brushed back behind his ears, terminatingbehind in a pretty little natural curl and whether it had the blackgloss of his younger days, or the snowy white of old age, it was alwaysneat and orderly. In early life he was very proud of his hair, andbestowed a great deal of care in its cultivation and arrangement. Whenhe became converted, Abe's hair underwent a marvellous change. Thebeautiful locks which had been so much admired and preserved with suchcare, were roughly taken off by the family scissors and thrown into thefire, and while they frizzled into smoke, Abe felt he had done theright thing in casting down every idol and putting away every mark ofpride. Many and many a time in after years would he say to his wife, "Naa then, lass, where's th' shears? Thaa mun clip my locks agean. Samson gat clipt by his wife, and he were worth nought after, but thyshears mak's me strong. " Then Sally would gently snip the ends of thecurling fringe all around, while Abe, by way of encouraging her, wouldput in, "We mun shun th' appearance of evil, thaa knows; cut a bitmore, lass;" and then she would very reluctantly sever another lock ortwo, until he could be persuaded enough was taken off. 

Abe was in the latter part of his life particularly neat in his attire, wearing an orthodox suit of black cloth, and cut in the Methodistpreacher style. He wasn't at all sparing in white neckcloth, for hewore one that travelled around and around his neck in such profusion, that it might have been intended as an extra security against the lossof his head. Altogether he was quite the type of an old-fashionedMethodist preacher. In the pulpit his appearance was exceedinglyprepossessing; he always had a smile on his face while talking, as ifhe thoroughly enjoyed the good news he was telling to others. Inbeginning to speak, or when about to say something which he thoughtparticularly good, he had a way of holding his head a little over onone side, and clapping his hands together. These movements, accompanied with an occasional shrug of his shoulders, were among thegeneral signs that the "Little Bishop" was having a good time, and whenAbe was happy in his work, everyone that heard him had a liberal shareof enjoyment and profit as well. But of course, like other men, hesometimes felt the misery of preaching in what he quaintly andappropriately called

"THE TIGHT JACKET. "

Taking into account the want of education from which he suffered, thedisadvantages he was at in preparing for his public duties, as well asother occasional depressing circumstances, we cannot wonder that heshould sometimes have been the subject of the most painful restraints, likened by him to a "tight jacket. " There was a wonderful differencein his preaching when he had one of these "hard times, " and when heenjoyed liberty. If in the latter mood, as was generally the case, histongue was like the pen of a ready writer, and streams of beautifultruth, sparkling with pious humour and accompanied with strikingoriginal illustrations, would pour from his lips; but if he had the"tight jacket" on, he could scarcely say anything, and it was a pain tolisten to him. 

Poor Abe had one of these "pulpit fevers" in Salem Chapel one day, andSally, his wife, was there; she sat all the time in a nervous torment, and as soon as he had finished, she rushed off out of the place ashamedof him. Dear woman, her homely criticisms were sometimes very severeupon him, partly because she was jealous for his reputation, and partlybecause she so loved him, and that was her way of showing the ardour ofher affection; she used a liberty which by some universal law falls tothe right of all affectionate wives whose husbands are preachers, andshe occasionally said some very terrible things to him about hissermons. On this particular day, therefore, Abe knew pretty well thatwhen he got home he would get something besides his dinner. He wincedas he thought about it, and made the walk home as long as he could, inthe hope that something might cool down a bit; however, he had to goin, so, shrinking into the smallest possible dimensions, he glidedsilently into the house, hung up his hat, and sat down. Sally was in aflutter, she was full, it must come:--"What hast ta been trying to dothis mornin'?" she began, looking hard at him. 

"Why, I couldn't mak' her goa a bit somehaa, " meekly replied her goodman. 

"Goa! No, haa does th' think she could goa, thaa niver gat her on herfeet. "

Abe made no response, but sat mute in his misery, and poor Sally felt areaction setting in, which made her feel as if she had allowed herardent affection for him to carry her too far. Meanwhile, she wasbustling about preparing the dinner, and when all was ready, she wentover to him, and kissed his forehead, adding, "Naa, lad, come and getth' dinner, and don't moind what folk say; thaa'll do better nexttoime, th' Lord help the'. " Abe was healed by a touch. 

Ah, but he didn't like those dry, hard times, when he couldn't find ahandful of green-meat to give to the Lord's dear sheep, and it wouldtrouble him deeply to think that he had led the flock to expect greenpasture, whereas he had only brought them to feed among rocks andstones. Then the old enemy would beset him, and say what an old foolhe was to think he could preach; that the people only laughed at himand made sport of his sayings, and that he had better give uppreaching, and try no more. But Abe would say, "Why, devil, thaa 'rtvary much troubled abaat my praaching; if I'm such an old fool as thaamak's aat, I canna do the' so much harm. " But all the banter andstrife he had with the devil did not conquer that arch-enemy; talkingto him is mostly waste time and ill-spent breath; there is another waywhich a good man has of finding relief; he can go to God in prayer. This was Abe's sure refuge; here he vented his trouble, here he gotcomfort, here he gained fresh strength, and when he came warm from thecloset struggle to the pulpit work he was another man. After passingthrough one of these temptations, he was almost sure to tell thepeople, the next time he preached, how the devil had harassed him, andwanted him to give up preaching, but how the Lord had bidden him to goon, and on he would go and did; his restraints were broken, his tongueloosed, and his soul fired, it was a joy to hear him then. 

He was one day rejoicing in his regained liberty, when he said, "Aye, bless yo', I wor as fast as a thief in a man-trap; I couldn't get awaytill th' Lord came and let me aat. " And then turning upon the unsavedpart of his congregation, he used a simile, which, on his behalf, Iclaim to be original if not elegant. Said he, "Yo' may think I wasfast enough, but let me tell yo', not hoalf as fast as some of yo'sinners. Yo' are like a flee" (fly) "in a treacle-pot; the more hekicks the faster he sticks. " And there was truth in the saying, andalthough the figure might amuse, the moral would remain in many a mindfor after-thought. 

THE BLACK CLOTH SUIT. 

When Abe had been some time preaching, and was making a good name forhimself in the Circuit, a desire began to be felt by many of thefriends to hear him in High Street Chapel, Huddersfield. This wasbefore the present splendid sanctuary was erected. Accordingly whenthe next plan came out, he was appointed to take a Sunday morningservice. Many a time did he tell of the consternation both he andSally felt on making this discovery. He was sitting at the end of thetable one evening with the plan in his hand marking off his work, andhis wife was busy about something in the room, when, all at once, Abeexclaimed, "Eh, lass, what dost ta think they've done?"

Sally looked rather startled and said, "Who? what?"

"Why, they've plann'd me in High Street on a Sunday mornin'. "

"Niver!" gasped Sally, coming to look at the plan herself; "where isit?"

He placed his finger on the number which indicated his work, and shesaw it was a fact. 

"Well, " she said, "thaa canna goa; thaa has no claathes fit to wearamang them grand foak. "

Now Abe would never have given his clothes a thought if she had notbrought the matter before his mind in the way she did; now, however, heremembered his coloured suit and his thick boots, and felt they werescarcely befitting the place he was called to occupy, however well theymight do among plain people in the country places. At length he said, "But if I'm plann'd, I mun goa, and if they don't loike my claathes, Icanna help 't. " Meanwhile the date of the High Street event drew near, and the following Sunday would find "Little Abe" at his post of duty. He was far more anxious about his work than his appearance, so that allthe care on this matter fell upon his wife. She was bothered sadlyabout his clothes. Saturday came, and, poor thing, she was bestowingespecial attention upon his old coat, mending button-holes, cleaningspots out, brushing, shaking, and scrutinizing the old garments as shehad never done before. That evening they were sitting together, justbefore Abe went out to the Band Meeting in the Chapel; a loud knockcame to the door. In a moment Sally opened it, and a man handed her alarge parcel, simply saying, "That's for Mr. Lockwood, " and immediatelywent away. 

"What's this?" exclaimed Sally, feeling and patting the parcel. 

"Nay, lass, don't ask me; thaa mun open 't, and then I'll tell the'. "

A table-knife soon severed the string by which it was tied, and thegood woman proceeded with nervous fingers to unfold the wrapping, andout came a black cloth suit for her husband. Neither of them couldspeak for a moment or two; she lifted her apron to wipe her eyes; Abe'slip quivered, and his eyes brimmed over; he couldn't help it, big roundtears fell on his clasped hands as they rested on the table; both ofthem looked at the parcel. "Does the' see that?" at length said Sally;"thaa'll look loike a travelling praacher naa, lad. "

That broke the spell. Up jumped Abe and began to leap about the house, clapping, rubbing his hands, and blessing the Lord. All the childrenjoined the chorus, laughing, jumping, and shouting "Daddy's got somenew claathes! Daddy's got some new claathes!" and poor Sally, full ofsmiles, holding up one garment after another, kept interjecting, "WellI niver!" "Law me!" "Eh, dear!" Abe's heart was full, and he mustneeds empty it before Him who had inclined some unknown friend to sendthis handsome and appropriate present just at the right time. From aninner room the voice of the good man was heard going up to God ingrateful acknowledgment of His kindness; and the children were hushedinto quietness hushed, --hushed while Daddy was praying. The next dayAbe appeared in his new clerical attire, and from that time was neverwithout the requisite black cloth suit in which to go about his belovedMaster's work. Oh, how much we may learn from a little incident likethis--how much of humble trust in God under all the circumstances oflife, how much assurance that "your heavenly Father knoweth ye haveneed of these things, " and that "My God will supply all your need!"

CHAPTER XV. 

A Basket of Fragments. 

The fame of "Little Abe" was not confined to his own Circuit, it spreadamong the villages and towns for many miles around, so that he wasgreatly sought after to preach anniversary and other sermons, andwherever he went the people felt he was "a man sent from God. " Thereare some who well remember his first visit to Elland, and thedelightful day they had with him in the Lord's house. His text was, "My God shall supply all your need. " He read these words, and thenclapped his hands together, while his face beamed with smiles. "Well, "said he, "do you want me to praach ony after that? what can onybody sayafter Paul spakes? He says everything with once opening his maath;with one scratch of his wonderful pen, he writes more than I couldspake in a lifetoime, if I were left to mysen, 'My God shall supply allyour need. ' Friends, there's nowt left, yo've gotton all in that, ivery thing yo' need, and I reckon you'r weel off. "

From this simple and easy beginning, he gradually got away into hissubject, explaining, illustrating, and applying his text in a way thatwarmed every heart. He was condemning the want of faith whichcharacterized some professors: "Bless yo', " he said, "sooiner than aarGod would see His faithful children want, He would mak' apple-dumplinsgrow on ash-trees. " And then he exclaimed, "Don't yo' believe thesewords? Ah, 'tis nowt unless yo' believe; you might be eating th'dumplins and smackin' your lips on th' apples, but if you doan'tbelieve, yo'll say it's a dream. Wake up, and believe naa, and you'llfoind your maath is full of good things. "

"DISH-CLOTH. "

I have said that some of Abe's similes were not very elegant, and whenthe following is related, my readers will agree with me; but they werewell understood by the people among whom they were uttered. Speakingone day of the pardoning mercy of God, and showing that He does notgrudgingly forgive the penitent sinner, Abe said, "Yo' womenfolk knowhaa to wesh a pie-dish, I reckon? Yo'll tak' th' dish and put it intoth' hot waiter, and then tak' dish-cloth and rub it raand and raand, insoide and aatsoide, till it's clean, and then yo'll wipe it wi' aclean towel, and mak' it look just loike a bron new dish; and that'shaa th' Lord does wi' a poor sinner: He gies him a plunge into th'Gospel fountain, weshes all his sins away, and brings him aat a bronnew man. " An old woman sitting there caught the figure in a moment, and responded energetically, "Maa th' Lord tak' th' dishcloth and wipesome aat here t'-noight!" "Amen, " exclaimed "the Bishop. "

"TASTE AND TRY. "

Abe's remarks on Psalm xxxiv. 8, "O taste and see that the Lord isgood, " etc. , were very characteristic. "David was nooan a bad man todeal with; he didn't try to deceive onybody and mak' them believe alie, like th' devil does; he says, yo' may 'taste and see. ' Naa, thatought to satisfy yo' particular talk; yo' loike to taste th' butter andcheese afore you buy, and if it's gooid, you say, 'I'll tak' a pund o'that;' naa, then, come and try if th' Lord is gooid. Aye, bless yo', He is gooid! He's as fresh as th' morning dew, and sweet as newcream, " and then with a quaint look he would add, "and there's a dealmore on Him than you often foind on your milk. "

He used to say that religion could be tested in two ways;--you cantaste it yoursen, and you can see it in others. See what it has donefor your neighbours--how it has changed th' lion into a lamb, th'raving sot into a sober and happy man; weshed th' tongue and purifiedth' heart o' th' blasphemer, and filled th' maath of the dumb withsongs of thanksgiving, see!--"See that the Lord is good!" Then raisinghis voice and reaching out his arm he would exclaim, "There's noan sobloind as those that weant see! but remember, yo' weant always be ableto play th' bloind man, God will crack a thunderbolt close to your earsome day, and yo'll open your eyes to see th' judgment before yo', andthen what will yo' say?"

His only aim in what he said was to reach the people's hearts and bringthem to decision for Christ; that was the reward he coveted, nothingmore, nothing less; only let him see sinners coming to Jesus, and hewas happy. He would stay all night by a penitent, and never leaveuntil he knew the poor soul was safe in the kingdom of God. Time wasnothing to him; the long, dark journey home brought no misgivings tohis mind. When his work was done, and another soul safe in the arms ofJesus, the humble village preacher would take his stick, or, as hesometimes called it, his pony, and set off home, where many a time hearrived faint and tired in the dead of the night, but with his soulfull of that peace which only a man feels who has ungrudgingly laid hislast remnant of energy at the feet of his Divine Master. 

"WHO'S BEEN HERE?"

"Little Abe" used everything that came to hand in order to make theGospel plain, and enforce its teachings upon his hearers. Zeal for thework, and a devout bias to his mind, enabled him to find religiousteaching in many things, wherein perhaps others would never havediscovered any. 

He was in one of his sermons exhorting the people to watch against thedevil, lest he should gain an entrance to their hearts and spoil thework of God. "Naa, " said he, "I'll tell yo' some'at. Aar lads" (hisown sons) "took a fancy for a bit of garden; we had a little patch ofgraand by aar haase; well, they set to wark, mended th' fence allraand, dug up th' soil, threw aat th' stones and rubbish, raked it overand marked it aat into beds, and planted flaars, and you may depend t'lads wor praad o' their wark; for mony a week they kept doin a bitnoights and mornin's to keep it raight. By-and-bye, flaars came intobloom, pinks, panseys, and other things came aat all over th' garden;weren't they praad naa, and so wor I. One mornin', just afore we weregoing t' th' mill, th' big lad went aat to look at th' garden a minute, and th' first words he said wor, 'Who's been here? Who's been here?'Aat I went, and I wor raight grieved to see all th' garden spoilt, flaars broken off, little beds trampled aat o' shape, and th' wark ofmonths all undone. I saw in a minute haa it wor: an owd ass had gottenin during th' noight and done all th' mischief. 'Haa could he get in, 'said th' lad, 'th' fence was all roight and safe?' But I said, 'Did tafasten th' gate last noight?' He looked at th' gate and said, 'I don'tknaw, father. ' Ah, that wor it, there wor his foot-tracks through th'gateway. Ah, friends, the devil is like an owd ass, goin' skulking andshuffling abaat in th' dark when other folks are in bed sleeping, andhe is always trying to get into th' Lord's garden and spoil th' flaars;yo' may mend th' fence as much as yo loike, but if you don't fasten th'gate, he'll be in and undo all th' good wark in your hearts. Shut th'gate, and fasten it; nail it up, raather than let th' owd cuddy get in;he hates everything that is good in nature and grace; he'll spoil th'best wark of God in a single noight; th' track of his owd hoof meansmischief, and one of his kicks would lame onybody; keep th' devil aato' th' heart, fence it raand with prayer; watch against th' enemy, andyou'll be roight noight and day. "

"When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace"(Luke xi. 21). 

"ELLOW! WHO'S THERE. "

Abe had a very quaint and original way of rendering the parable of ourLord on the importunate neighbour (Luke xi. 5). 

"There was a good man who said one noight to his wife, 'Naa, lass, wemun be getting to bed, I ha' to be up i' th' mornin' i' good toime. ''Aye, ' she said, 'thaa has?' So she put supper things away, and thenshe and th' childer sat daan while th' good man read a chapter i' God'sBook; then they all knelt together at the family altar, and committedtheir souls to the keeping of Him who never slumbers nor sleeps. In alittle while after that they were all in bed and th' candle blown aat;they were just settling daan into sleep, when there came a loudknocking at th' front door, ran, tan, tan, tan. 'Ellow! who's there?'exclaimed th' good man of th' haase as he raised himself up in bed. 

"'It's me!' answered a voice from th' aatside. 

"'Me, who's me?'

"'I'm th' neighbour, thaa knaws. '

"'Aye, and a bonny neighbour thaa is to be comin' here knocking up sicha row at this toime o' th' noight. '

"'Why, I'm vary sorry, ' chimes in th' voice aatsoide, 'vary sorry totrouble you, but a friend o' mine that's on a journey, has just come toaar haase, and wants his supper and a noight's lodgings, and we ha'nt amorsel o' bread to set before him, and I want to knaw if thaa'll lendus a loaf till my wife bakes. '

"'Get away hoam wi' the', ' replied the man of th' haase. 'I'm i' bed, and canna be bothered; candle's aat, and we ha' no matches upstairs; gohome and come agean in th' mornin', and I'll lend the' some. Rememberme to the' friend, good-noight:' whereupon he shuffles daan into bedagean, and tries to compose himsen to sleep. 

"But th' man aatsoide has been and fetched a big thick stick, and withthis he starts to hammer th' door laader than ever, till he startlesall th' sleepers in th' haase. 

"'Naa then, what's th' matter?' shaats th' man from insoide, 'I thoughtthaa war gone hoam. '

"'Will thaa lend me a loaf till my wife bakes?' This was said in sucha deliberate, determined voice, that the good man knows in a moment hewon't be put off. 

"'What thinks ta, lass? Mun I get up and gie him one? I don't believehe'll goa away; he'll bray t' door daan afore dayloight. '

"While th' wife is rubbing her eyes and hesitating a bit, th' manaatside rings sich a clash of bells on th' front door, as brought th'good man aat on th' floor in a twinkling. 

"'Hold on! hold on, mon, I'm coming!' and he was off daanstairs to thecupboard like a shot, aat with a loaf, unlocked th' front door, handedforth th' bread to the man, who was just getting ready for anotherknock. 'I see, ' said he, 'thaa weant be put off; tak' this, and gohoam wi' the'. '"

This story, told in the vernacular of the district, of which this is avery imperfect rendering, and accompanied with Abe's expressivegestures, was exceedingly effective, and not easily forgotten. Nor didhe omit the beautiful moral of the parable, showing the necessity ofprayer, importunate prayer, prayer at all times. "Keep knocking!" Abewould say, "God is only trying you a bit in not answering first knock;it's His way of proving whether you really mean it or not. Knocklaader, pray on and on, He hears, He is coming, bless Him! He neversaid to th' seed of Jacob, 'Seek ye my face in vain. '"

"PUT UM ON THEESEN. "

The Prodigal Son was a favourite subject with the "Little Bishop, " andmany are the quaint sayings which fell from his lips while dwelling onthis interesting parable. The singular pictures which he drew of thisyoung man in his degradation brought many a smile on the faces of thecongregation. But his chief aim always was to get the youth back tohis father's house again; here his emotions often overpowered him, andhis joy was so great that he hardly knew what he was saying. Many ofthe friends still remember him on one occasion at Outlane. He hadbrought the poor prodigal to the top of a lane leading down to hisfather's house; there he stood, covered in rags and dirt, his head bareand his shoes gone; he is just timidly stopping at the corner of thelane debating whether he shall go on or turn back, when at that momentout comes the old man to look up and down the road; he sees that bit ofhuman misery at the lane end, and in an instant recognizes him as hisson, "'Mother! mother!' exclaims th' owd man, 'quick! quick! here's aarJack standing at top o' th' loin. Oh, run! run my owd legs, tak' me tohim! Here, Jack, my lad, come to me, the' father wants thee--come, come!' And in another moment the old man is hurrying with totteringsteps and open arms towards his son, and folding him, rags and all, tohis bursting heart. " It was so real to Abe, and he was so carried awaywith the picture which was before his vivid imagination, that when hegot the lad into the house, he exclaimed, "Put shoes on his hands, andrings on his feet, "--whereupon a brother in the chapel called out, "Nay, nay, Abe lad, thaa mun't put shoes on th' lad's hands, and th'rings on his feet; put um on roight, man. " But Abe responded at thetop of his voice, while tears came rolling over his face, "Put um ontheesen and let me aloan! 'This, my son, was dead, and is alive again, he was lost and is faand!'" By that genuine burst of feeling, hereached a climax of eloquence that has seldom been surpassed in thehistory of preaching. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

"I am a Wonder unto Many. "

Such were the words of David in olden times, and with propriety did"Little Abe" frequently adopt them in his day. Considering hiscondition prior to his conversion, --a wild, thoughtless, and wickedyoung man, having neither fear of God nor man before his eyes, and thencontrasting it with what he had become by the grace of God; rememberinghis want of education, that he never could write, and by that meanscommit his thoughts to paper, and yet that his preaching was acceptableand profitable to the people, that he drew large congregations whereverhe went, some people coming to hear him who seldom attended the placesat any other time; that he was used by God in bringing many sinnersinto the fold of Christ, who are now useful members in the Church onearth, or enrolled among those who serve God in His temple in heaven, "Little Abe" really was "a wonder unto many. "

A woman once said to him, "Aye, Abe, I like' to hear the' preach. "

"Bless th' Lord for that, " responded Abe. 

"But, " continued she, "I many a toime wonders where thaa gets all th'sense from, and haa thaa foinds t' words to say, for thaa's niver beento college, nor ony place loike that. "

"Who says I wor niver at college?" he replied. "I have been to acollege where they mak' a roight job on um, woman. "

"Why, what college hast ta been to? Not Ranmoor, I'll be baan?"

"Noa, not Ranmoor; it would puzzle th' Doctor to mak' onything o' me;I've been to th' fisherman's college, where Peter and th' rest on umwent. I've learnt a bit at th' feet o' Jesus, bless Him!"

Yes, he had learnt to devote what little talent he possessed to thehighest and happiest service in the universe, and his success as alabourer for Jesus shows that the great Master can make good use of anyfeeble instrumentality for the spread of truth and the salvation ofmankind. "We have this treasure in earthen vessels that the excellencyof the power may be of God and not of us, " was a saying of apostolicdays, but as true now as when uttered by St. Paul. When great scholarsand brilliant orators or men of extraordinary natural and acquiredparts become successful as the advocates of our Christian faith, thereare always some more ready to pay a tribute to the powers of these men, than to the Gospel which they teach, ascribing their success not to theinherent power of truth, but to the extraordinary talent of itsadvocates. But when men like our friend "Little Abe" are raised up forthe Lord's work, and the Gospel preached by them becomes mighty inchanging the hearts and lives of others, these opponents of our blessedreligion are at a loss to find some human arm to which they can ascribethe glory, and while they vainly seek such arm, others can plainly see"that the excellency of the power is of God, and not of us. "

A great deal of the favour which "Little Abe" met with was due to his_sincerity_. He was very droll in his sayings; he was very original inhis manner of dealing out truth; his illustrations were mostly drawnfrom things in everyday life which everybody understood; his languagewas the plain home-spun provincialism of the locality where his hearerswere born and brought up; but however much may be due to these things, those who knew him best would say, that his almost universal acceptancewas due to his undoubted sincerity. This made everything he said inthe pulpit quite proper. What would appear out of place in any otherman, was becoming in him; all his odd sayings and gestures were kindlyreceived, and never an unpleasant feeling was excited in the breast ofany who really knew the man. 

Oh, it is a grand thing when a man has so lived and proved himselfamong those around him, that they all feel his religion to be sincere!What good may not such a man be capable of doing? He may be unschooledand unread, he may be poor, and hold but a humble position in the ranksof life, and yet withal, he may exert a power which neither rank norlearning can acquire, nor wealth purchase. He rules hearts; learningmay rule heads, and wealth may influence manners, but sincere goodnessenshrines itself on the throne of the heart. 

Men among whom "Little Abe" lived and worked, with whom he met from dayto day, --men who professed to have no regard for religion as such, respected Abe's presence more than they would that of their ownfathers, and stopped their unclean conversation at his approach, or bysome other unmistakable means indicated their deep respect for him. They all knew what grace had done for him, and they honoured thegenuine work, thereby entitling Abe to say, "I'm a wonder unto many. "

One man says, "If there were no other evidence that religion is a goodthing, there was proof enough in Little Abe. I have had ampleopportunities of watching his daily life for many years, having workedin the same mill with him, and I know what the other mill hands thoughtof him as well; everybody believed in the 'Little Bishop, ' and therewasn't a man to be found that would utter a disrespectful word of him. He was often employed in what is called 'cuttling, ' that is, drawingcloth from the machine. To do this he had to kneel on the ground; itwas easy work, and required very little thought. Many a time have Iseen him, while in this position, praying and drawing off the cloth, and I have thought that Abe couldn't help praying if he got on hisknees, whether it was in the mill or anywhere else. 

"Sometimes on a Saturday the young people in the mill would say, 'Well, Bishop, where are you going to preach to-morrow?' and then, with thebrightest, kindest smile, he would tell them where his work for thenext day lay, and perhaps he would ask them to go with him; but ontheir refusing, he would add, 'Ah, my lads, yo' want your heartschanging by th' grace of God, and then yo' would be glad to runonywhere in His Name. ' As years grew on him and he became infirm, Ihave seen him come into the mill on a Monday morning looking verytired, and I have said I thought he was working too hard on Sundays. 'Canna do that, ' he would reply; 'I would do a thausand toimes maar forJesus if I could;" and then brightening up, he would add, "I'd raatherwear aat loike gooid steel, than rust aat loike owd iron;' and he wastrue to his word; he did wear out. "

Many such testimonies might be added if it were necessary, all showingthat religion in "Little Abe" was the all-engrossing thing, but letthis suffice. It is delightful to see how a good man may live in themidst of the ungodly, and keep his garments unspotted, and his nameunsullied by the adverse influences around him. What a rebuke such alife is to many who excuse their looseness and irregularities becausethey are thrown among the irreligious; and how stimulative it becomesto others that are similarly situated, and trying to live consistentlyin the midst of all their evil surroundings!

CHAPTER XVII. 

Abe as a Class Leader

The Class-meeting is one of the best institutions in Methodism. It hasdone as much as anything else, if not more, to keep up the spirituallife of the churches; it has been a refuge for tens of thousands oftempted ones; it has been a seasonable corrector to many who were justbeginning to fall into the paths of sin, and has brought them back toChrist again; it has supplied the social need of our Christian faith, and gathered friends together for spiritual communion; it has been asafeguard against the devices of the devil by affording opportunitiesfor the disciples of our Lord to compare their experiences, tell theirtemptations, and impart mutual encouragement to each other in theDivine life; it is a natural, seemly, and modest vent for the spiritualfire which glows and flashes in every heart that loves the Lord withsincerity. It was almost self-appointed; it came to be, or grew out ofa class of circumstances which would at any other time have producedessentially the same thing; it is the outgrowth of the fervent pietywhich marked the lives of our fathers in the churches, and it has metthe tendencies of glowing Christianity among us ever since. It is anencumbrance only where this kind of Christianity is not maintained; asgodly zeal declines, so sinks the estimation for class-meetings; justas the appetite for food forsakes a sickly person, so the desire forexperience meetings declines in a sickly church. Persons who never didattend class-meetings cannot be judged by them; their piety may deepenor diminish, but other tests must be found for them. The class-meetingis a Methodist gauge, and only here can it apply. 

"Little Abe" was a class leader for many years, and there was no workmore heartily enjoyed by him than this. The members of his class whosurvive him often talk of the grand times they had with the little manin this way; it was often like heaven on earth. He was a verysuccessful leader, and always kept his members well together. If anyof them absented themselves he was soon on their track, hunting them upand bringing them back to the fold. 

"MY FATHER'S GOT PLENTY O' TIMBER. "

His class was conducted in a neat little cottage near the chapelbelonging to one of the members, who week by week opened his doors forthe accommodation of Abe and his flock. Their meeting was held in acomfortable room which served the family as kitchen and parlour; hereevery Monday night the quaint old shepherd came to meet his sheep. Thebig family table was pushed back against the window, the elbow-chairwas placed at the end for the leader, all the chairs and seats in thehouse were brought into this room and ranged around as conveniently aspossible to accommodate the weekly visitors, and sometimes when thiswas done there were more people than seats, and the big table had to bedrawn out again, and made use of as a resting-place for the homelypeople who gathered there; or a long board would be brought down fromupstairs and its ends placed on two chairs, and thus an additional seatwas extemporized. 

This very board had the misfortune to snap in two one night while abrother was engaged in praying. He was a _powerful_ man in prayer; hissoul was inspired with zeal, and his body animated with strength, whichon this occasion he vented in a succession of heavy blows on thisdevoted piece of timber, until suddenly it gave way with a loud crackand fell in two pieces on the floor, to the great discomfiture of thosewhose weight added to the strain. For some moments there wasconsiderable confusion in the room, as may be supposed, and the prayingwas brought to a sudden halt, when Abe's voice was heard above all, "Ne'er moind, lad, go at it! My Father's got plenty o' timber, andHe'll send thee a new seat, " whereon the meeting went on, as lively asbefore. Abe wouldn't allow any such trifles to interfere with thehappy flow of feeling in his meetings; indeed, such incidents servedrather to stimulate than abate the exuberance of his spirits. He knewthat all things belonged to the Lord, and that He would make good allthat was lost in His service, and therefore "he took joyfully thespoiling of his goods, " and other folk's too. It is needless to saythat the old seat was replaced by a new one. 

"MY FATHER 'LL GIE THE' THIS HAASE" (House). 

When Abe had been conducting his class for some years in the cottagebefore named, an event transpired which greatly disturbed his mind, andled him to fear he might have to remove his meeting to some otherplace. Now this was a sore trouble ta him and to every one of hismembers; they had got accustomed to going there, and some of them hadnever met anywhere else, so that they could not bear the thought ofbeing obliged to leave, yet there was some ground for the fear. 

The person who owned the cottage was mother-in-law to the man by whomit was occupied; she died and left her property, which consistedchiefly of cottages, to be divided equally among her children. Soonafter the funeral the family met in this very house to arrange thedivision of the estate. The plan adopted was to draw lots for houses, and as they were nearly of the same value, this seemed equitable. Sothe lots were all prepared and placed together, and each person was todraw one, and take the house named on the lot; the drawing was tocommence with the eldest, and go down to the youngest. Now the wife ofthe man in whose house the class met was the youngest member of thefamily, and therefore must take what all the others left. Wheneverything was ready for the drawing to begin, the proceedings wereinterrupted by a knock at the door. The man of the house opened it, and found, to his surprise, "Little Abe" there. "Come aat a minute, "said he, "I want to spaike to the'. " On getting outside Abe resumed, "I knaw what ye are baan to do in there. "

"Haa dost ta knaw?" said the man. 

"Ne'r moind, I knaw;" and going close up to his ear and placing hishand on the man's arm, he said, "My Father 'll gie the' this haase, Hetelled me soa; I've been to Him abaat it, and I have His word on 't;but afore thaa gets it, I want the' to promise me that while I live Ishall have my meetin' here. "

"Yo' shall, " was the ready response; "as long as thaa and me lives thishaase shall be oppen to the' if we get it. "

"Bless the Lord, " said Abe, rubbing his hands, "I could loike to shaat"(shout) "but they'd hear me insoide. Ne'er moind, I knaw tha'll getit;--gooid-noight!"

His friend then returned into the house, and immediately the drawingbegan. Each drew one lot; then they all read them together, and as Abepredicted, the house in which they were assembled fell to the share ofthe man who lived in it. But this is not the end of the story: itappears that one of the sons was not satisfied with his portion, andbegan to complain. The fact is he wanted this house, and if he had gotit Abe and his class would have been turned out. So, rather than haveany unpleasantness in the family, they all agreed to cast lots againand abide by the issue. This was done, and to the astonishment of all, this house fell a second time to the same man, and though it wasconsidered the best lot, everyone felt it was fairly his, and he has itto this day. 

It may suit some people to say this was a mere accident; yes, just thesame as the world is an accident and a thing of chance. Perhaps it wasan accident, too, that "Little Abe" was able to foretell the issue ofthat lottery with such confidence, and was so eager to make his bargainfor the use of the room before the lots were known. The chance thatcan show such intelligence, foreknowledge, and power, that cancommunicate its intentions beforehand, and afterwards verify them inthis manner, has the attributes of God, and must be Divine; a chancethat can hear and answer prayer, that can work out its own designs andbaffle those of others, that can reveal secrets to His favourites andhonourably keep covenants, deserves the faith and worship of all men:this was Abe Lockwood's God, and He shall be ours for ever and ever. There are some who say, "What is the Almighty that we should serve Him?and what profit shall we have if we pray unto Him?" These scientifictheorists and unbelievers are intensely anxious to prove that prayer isonly wasted energy, that nothing can possibly come as direct answeringto prayer, that if things do follow which seem to be in response toearnest and devout petition, they result from some other causes, whichhave no connection, except coincidental, with prayer. 

Men who talk so don't pray, never did. They don't know what prayer is;they are wrong in their first principles, and therefore all theirdeductions are awry; it is impossible for anyone who discredits prayerto know what he is talking about. Prayer is a something going onwithin the soul, it is something which must be experienced to beunderstood; and yet those who have no experience presume tophilosophize on the subject as if they had spent all their life in theexercise and study of prayer. Just as well might "Little Abe" try totalk scientifically, as those scientists speak on the merits or worthof prayer, it is out of their sphere, they are out of their depth, andtherefore it was a sad want of discretion which first tempted them toventure so far. 

"Little Abe" was a much better judge of the value of prayer than thesetheorists; he was much further learnt in this direction than any ofthem, and therefore his testimony was more reliable than theirs; whatto them was a mystery and impossibility was to him a simple dailyenjoyment. They that would test the value of prayer _must really praythemselves_, and believe while they pray, otherwise they will be nowiser. Prayer is not disproved by the failure of improper petitions, but it is proved by the success attending supplications presented inthe right spirit. If men expect nothing, they get what they expect, the Bible says so; "But without faith it is impossible to please Him;for he that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is arewarder of them that diligently seek Him" (Heb. Xi. 6). 

Prayer was an exercise in which Abe was a proficient and spent muchtime; at his work he prayed, and in his chamber, long and earnestly, until he prevailed. Sometimes in the meetings, as Abe would say, "theygat agaat o' wrestling, " and then he often became so importunate in hisintercessions that his whole body prayed as well as his soul, and quiteunconsciously he beat the bench at which he knelt, struck the floorwith his clogs, sweat at every pore, and really wrestled with God inmighty prayer, and then the glory was sure to come down and fill theplace. Certainly at those times Abe and those who were with him werevery noisy, and some who had no sympathy with anything of the sort, would make some disparaging remarks. There were some of old who wouldhave silenced the loud cries of poor blind Bartimeus, but they couldnot, nor can they stop the voice of vehement prayer. Pray on, brethren, get hold of God, and then make what noise you like. 

We want more of this praying spirit among the Lord's people, and lessof the cold calculations of the unbeliever. Here lies the strength ofthe Christian Church, and not in its immense wealth, its high culture, its refined pulpit, or luxurious pew; it is that praying power whichbrings the Divine unction down. May God give us the praying power. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

"Working Overtime. "

The time came when "Little Abe" was much sought after to speak atweek-night meetings, such as tea-meetings, missionary meetings, and thelike. It was considered a great point to have him as one of thespeakers; they were sure to have a lively time if Abe came--for whatwith his own original speech, his running comments and responses whileothers were talking (a liberty which every one allowed him), he keptthe whole meeting alive throughout. 

This was what he called "working overtime. " All his Sundays weregiven, as a matter of course, to the Lord's work, and the week-days tohis daily calling; consequently what he did, in this way had to be doneat nights, after his day's work was finished. Now as this kind of workgrew upon Abe, there were some who would tell him he was doing toomuch, that he would injure himself; but he would remind them that whenhe had to work at the mill night after night, week after week, no oneever thought of telling him he was doing too much. "No, " would be theresponse, "because you were paid for that. " Then Abe's soul wasroused. "Well, and does the' think my Father doesn't pay me? BlessHim, He owes me nowt, He's paid me double wages for every minute I havewarked for Him. " And so he went on serving the Church and honouringGod to the utmost of his ability. 

LITTLE ABE AND THE MULE. 

He had a singular experience one dark rainy night when going to amissionary meeting at Shelley. He was late in arriving, so that themeeting was somewhat advanced when he put in an appearance. As heentered the chapel he was greeted by a burst of clapping, and in amoment every face brightened at the sight of him, though, to tell thetruth, he was rather unsightly, for he was bedabbled with mud from hisfeet to his head, and his big umbrella looked as if it had been on thespree and rolled in the gutter; altogether he appeared in unusual stylefor a public meeting. It was no matter to him, however. He just shookhimself like a dog out of the water, placed his bundle of whalebonesand gingham in a quiet corner, rubbed his numbed hands together, andwent smiling on to the platform. Nothing would satisfy the people butthat he should speak at once, so he rose to his feet amid the heartyclapping of the whole audience, and said, "I niver knew so mich of th'trials of missionary wark in my loife as I do naa. I've been intrainin' for this meetin'. I've had to endure storms, rain, tempest, and dangers seen and unseen, for it wor that dark on th' road I couldhardly see mysen, so, loike a returned missionary, I think I ought tolet yo' knaw some'at abaat my trials. " (Hear, hear. ) "Well, yo' knaw, when I promised to come to this meetin', I meant being here somehaa, but I 'av had a job. I thowt as I wor comin' I would mak' it as easyas I could for mysen, so I borrowed aar neighbour's mule. I didn'tknaw mich abaat riding, so he telled me I wor to keep tight hold o' th'bridle, as th' owd mule had a way o' tumblin' fore'ards. Well, I gaton th' back wi' my umbrella oppen, for it wor pouring daan rain, and weset off, all three on us, umbrella, th' mule, and me. We gat onalroight most o' th' way. I had to scold th' owd animal sometimes, andtell him to get on or we'd be too late for th' meeting, so we keptgaining a bit o' graand by degrees, but troubles wor ahead. What wi'thinking abaat my speech and holding th' umbrella roight, I forgat tokeep a toight hold o' th' bridle, and all at once th' mule tript, andth' umbrella and me went roight over his head into th' dike. I reallywor astonished at mysen, and didn't know which to blame--th' mule orme. I think I ne'r gat off a cuddy so quick in my loife afore; and th'owd mule would hardly understand me I daresay, for he stopt in a momentand look'd over at me as if he wor wondering if I always gat off inthat fashion. However, I soon scrambled aat o' th' dike, and after agood bit o' trying I maanted agean and set off on th' road; but Ihadn't gone far before I faan some'at wor wrang wi' th' bridle. Icouldn't guide th' beast roight somehaa, so I felt abaat to try if Icould foind aat what it wor, and behold I had gotten th' bridle all onone soide. Well, I dar'n't get off to set it roight, so I wor fain tolet th' owd beast goa his own gait till we gat to Shelley. "

The whole story was so amusing, and the more so as told in Abe'sinimitable style, that the people laughed themselves into tears; andyet they could not but admire the zeal of the little man, and theirhearts warmed towards him, and to the missionary cause as well, for assoon as Abe resumed his seat, the chairman, who knew how to take thetide at its flood, called for the collection to be made, and there isno doubt it was a good one. Just at that moment Abe shouted out, "Bless the Lord, I've made th' collection speech to-noight. "

A QUOTATION FROM SALLY. 

At one of the meetings where "Little Abe" was a speaker, he wasexhorting the people to give freely to the Lord's cause. "Some folk, "he remarked, "say that Methodists are always after money; well, wecanna' do very mich withaat it, I wish we could, it's a deal o' bother, and takes sich a lot o' getting; and yet it is a far worse job to bewithaat ony. " Then throwing his head over a little on one side he wenton, "Aar Sally says money is th' rooit of all evil, but I says, 'Aye, lass, I knaw it wad be, if I wor to come home on Saturday withaat ony. '"

A LIST OF THE FAMILY NAMES. 

At another meeting in which our little hero was speaking he got into anexceedingly happy mood, and was dwelling on the honour of being a childof God. His face shone with delight, his eyes glistened with joyfultears. "Bless the Lord, " said he, "I'm a King's Son, and one of aroyal line. Ah, and there are hosts maar in th' family besides me. Let's see, " said he, "there's Jonathan Cheetham, King's Son; there'sJames Crossland, King's Son; there's James Carter, King's Son; Glory!there's Mary Carter, King's Son. Hallelujah!" How far he would havepursued the list of family names we don't know, had not the wholemeeting burst into laughter and tears at Abe's unwitting mistake incalling Mary Carter a King's Son; but it was of no consequence to him;a little slip of his happy tongue didn't mar his meaning; the peoplecheered him, and on he went as blythe as ever. 

It was reward enough for Little Abe to know that he had done hisMaster's work and brought honour to His great name. The exertion whichthese extra meetings entailed upon him, the long weary marches out andhome, were all performed without a murmur or the slightest abatement ofzeal. He didn't serve the Lord with a footrule in his hand, measuringand marking off to the eighth of an inch. Abe strode over all narrowand stinted measurements, and served his Master out of the fulness ofhis warm and generous heart. 

That miserable devotion which does as little as possible for God, andmagnifies that little into importance, Little Abe knew nothing about, and he is a poor, pompous, pitiable thing that does; the open heart, the willing hand, the ready feet, are among the few things that GodAlmighty is pleased to see among His people; the penitent that shedshis tears by the dozen, the man that goes just the length of hissixty-feet tape-measure and no more, the champion that quenches hiszeal in the first obstacle that comes in his way, and turns back fromthe fight, is unworthy the name and honour of a Christian; he is unfitto march in the glorious succession of martyrs and confessors whofollow a Leader that dedicated His all to the world's welfare and HisFather's will. "For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, thatthough He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye throughHis poverty might be rich. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

Methodist Lovefeast. 

Methodism has created new institutions and coined new words to expressthe object of them. The lovefeast is purely Methodistic: it is ameeting of Christian people belonging to one or more societies, wherethey relate their religious experience, and bear their testimony to theworth and influence of Divine grace in the soul. 

Under the conduct of a minister, or someone duly appointed for thepurpose, the meeting is opened with singing and prayer; then, while thepeople are sitting, bread and water are distributed to all present, tosuggest that believers are members of one great family, and partners inthe same spiritual provision made by Christ who gave Himself to be theBread of Life for men. When this is done the offerings of the peopleare gathered, usually for the poor of the Lord's flock. Theformalities ended, the meeting is thrown open for the relation ofChristian experience, and any one speaks that is prompted. 

In every period of Methodism the lovefeast has been a precious andpopular means of grace. These meetings are held all through thecountry, every little church taking care to have its quarterly orannual lovefeast. And it is remarkable what a hold some of thesemeetings have upon the people; ten, or even twenty miles, have not beenconsidered too great a distance to be travelled in order to be presentat some of them, even though the entire journey has had to be performedon foot. Men and women, some of them stricken in years and bowed downwith the toils and cares of a long and hard life, have joyfully walkedmany a weary mile for the pleasure of attending a lovefeast; oldpeople, leading their grand-children by the hand, and telling them ofthe stirring times of early Methodism; younger people in groups, singing revival hymns as they plod steadily along the dusty or miryroads under melting sun or pelting rains, making their way to theseattractive and soul-stirring meetings, contending against everyobstacle and overcoming every hindrance, determined to be there and dohonour to the Divine Master, who said, "Ye are my witnesses. "

There have been some of the grandest manifestations of Divine power atthese gatherings, as seen and felt in the sweet, gentle, andunconscious melting of feelings, until the whole congregation has beenbroken down to tears and songs of joy and praise; or coming suddenlyupon them as a "rushing mighty wind, " without sound or sign, save inthe bending of heads, the breaking of hearts, the streaming tears, andthe adoring responses of the people. Then, believers have caught thespark of sanctifying fire from God Himself, and declared it; then, menhave been endued with the gift of tongues, and spoken with apostolicpower; then, sinners, drawn into the place by the peculiar attractionsof the occasion, have felt their souls shaken by Divine energy, likeforest trees in a tempest, and trembling, bending, rending, breaking, have fallen in the storm of Heaven's mercy, and cried for help andfound it. Oh, how many there are now in glory or on the way, of whomit may be said, "Convicted in a lovefeast! converted in a lovefeast!sanctified in a lovefeast!" Their name is "legion, for they are many. "Hallelujah!

Some things among the usages of the churches we may perhaps afford todispense with and suffer no loss, but not this glorious means of grace. If in any place they have lost their power, the fault is not in theinstitution, but in the Church; religious declension is the greatestenemy to this good old custom. If the Lord's people return to theirfirst love, the lovefeast will resume its former glory and power. Oh, Lord, "wilt Thou not revive us again, that Thy people may rejoice inThee?"

Methodism cannot afford to forsake her old ways for new and untriedones; they are intelligent, proper, and essentially Christian. Lovefeasts are the olive branch which we have received from the reveredhands of our fathers and mothers in the faith, not to be cast away, butto be prized and kept as a mark of our love for them, for each other, and for Christ our Saviour; and though the green branch which they leftus may be somewhat faded, and its leaves droop in our moisturelesshands, though it has lost some of the freshness it had when it firstcame to our keeping, thank God! thank God! it is not dead, it lives!and can be revived. It wants more moisture; sprinkle tear-drops ofpenitence upon its shrunken foliage; let the springs of our sympathyonce more flow over it; let us ask God to give us the "upper and thenether springs, " that _His_ love and ours may flow out in one unitedstream; let us come to that stream, near, nearer, to the brink, andolive branch in hand, plunge in, refresh ourselves, and revivify theblessed, beautiful, and sacred symbol. 

There was no meeting in which Little Abe was more at home than alovefeast; whether as conductor or in a private capacity, --if such aterm can be applied to Abe, --he gloried in a rousing lovefeast. Hislove for these meetings and his aptitude in conducting them occasioneda great demand for his presence. He had such a way of interspersingenlivening comments between the speakers. He was a good singer, too, and was always ready with some hymn expressive of the feeling of themeeting. Then he had the power to make everyone feel at home, so thathe was the very man to lead a lovefeast, although he did sometimes saythings that would shock very orderly and circumspect persons. 

DEVIL DIDN'T POP THEE. 

Little Abe was leading a lovefeast in Berry Brow Chapel; the place wascrowded, people had come from far and near; the Holy Spirit was presentin great power; there was no lack of witnesses, two or three beingoften on their feet together waiting for an opportunity to speak. Little Abe, as he said, "was fair swabbing o'er, " he wept for joy. 

A young man at length rose to relate his Christian experience. He hadbut lately been converted to Jesus, and before that had been a verywicked, drunken, degraded character. He proceeded to say what the Lordhad done for him, how He had found him in his sins and misery, andtaken hold of him when hardly any one else would look at him, except apoliceman, who felt as if he had a sort of right to him, and oftenfound him board and lodgings for a few weeks. At the time of hisconversion he was almost naked, and absolutely destitute; said he, "Ihad popt" (pawned) "my coat, and popt my shoes, my vest, my shirt, andeverything on which I could raise money, and I was almost in hell. "This was more than Abe could sit under; he sprang to his feet andexclaimed, "It's a rare job th' devil didn't pop thee and all, my lad!Praise th' Lord!" The young man fell on his seat and vented hisgratitude in a fresh burst of tears, and many an eye in that meetingran over as well. 

RELIGION ALL HUMBUG. 

Little Abe once got up in a lovefeast. "Friends, " said he, "a manasked me what I made so mich noise abaat religion for; he said, 'It'sall humbug, ' and I said, 'Thaa'rt roight for once, mon; it's th'sweetest humbug that iver I tasted. I have been sucking it for mony alang year, and it is sweeter than iver. '" (Humbug is the Yorkshirename for sweets and goodies). It was just in Abe's way to turn thetables on his assailant, and certainly in this case the Little Bishophad the best of the encounter, and the joy of the humbug as well. 

PENITENT PHYSIC. 

The Bishop was leading a lovefeast in Shelley Chapel (where it is saidthat the Rev. John Wesley once preached), and one of the speakers hadbeen a backslider, but had determined to return to the Lord. This manwas telling the meeting his bitter sorrow, and how he had drunk of thewormwood and gall of repentance, and as he spoke tears ran chasing eachother down his face. "Bless th' Lord, " said Little Abe, "I see myFather has been giving the' some penitent physic, and it's made the''een" (eyes) "run. Ne'er moind, lad, He'll heal thee heart, and wipe'away all tears from thee 'een. '"

HONLEY FEAST MONDAY. 

The Honley feast is one of the remaining relics of byegone times, andis tenaciously kept year by year throughout the parish as a holiday. It begins with Sunday, and extends over the greater part of the week, during which time the people enjoy themselves in ways suited to theirvaried tastes, too many of them indulging in the cup which bringsaching heads and empty pockets. What a pity it is that men, and evenwomen, too, are so infatuated as to think that pleasure can only befound in drunkenness and public-house brawling! Thank God there aremany who know the folly of this, and have other and better ways offinding pleasure. Ever since Salem Chapel was first built it has beenthe custom to hold a lovefeast there on Honley Feast Monday, and thisis perhaps the most popular meeting in the whole year, and is alwayslooked to with great interest. People come to this lovefeast from manymiles around, and the chapel is invariably filled to overflowing. 

This was always a great occasion with Little Abe--a real red letterday. I remember attending this annual meeting some years ago. Abe wasthere, and he certainly monopolised a good share of my attention. Hewas very happy, and kept on ringing changes with clapping, stamping, shouting, and sometimes, when under strong feelings, he pealed a clashaltogether, with hand, foot, and voice. "Hey, lads!" he said, "it'sgrand! it gets better and better, bless th' Lord!" His face wascovered with smiles from his smooth chin to his bald forehead; he neverceased smiling during all that service, --for no sooner had his joyouscountenance spent itself on one pleasant thing, and the light, dancingripples begun to subside, than something else presented itself to hisnotice, and another smile passed across his face like a playful breezeover a clear pool, shaking up the waves again; and so on he went, through all that service, with a face as bright as a sunbeam. 

At length Abe rose to his feet, still smiling, and his hands claspedtogether; every eye was on him in a moment, and smiles and tears of joymingled all over the chapel; the women wiped their eyes, and the menshouted, "Glory, Abe! God bless the', lad. " "Friends, " he began, "Iam happy, I mun spaike naa, or I'st brust mysen. " "Go on, Abe, " camefrom all parts of the chapel. "Hey, my lads, I mean to go on; I'm noangoing to turn back naa; it's heaven I set aat for, and heaven I mean. I've been on th' road aboon fifty years, and I'st get t' th' end aforelang. " And then he went on to say how glad he was to see them thereonce more, and to see the place full of earnest worshippers. "You knawit warn't always soa. I can remember when we wor just a few, but weagreed to pray for a revival, and gie th' Lord no rest until we shouldmak' His arm bare amang us. We started a prayer-meeting on Sundaymornings at five o'clock to th' minute, and they that worn't there attime should be locked aat. Well, yo' know, I wor' baan to be at thatmeeting. So I telled aar Sally on Saturday noight I mun be up i' th'morning at half-past four. Well, wod yo' believe it, I waked abaatfive minutes to five. I wor aat o' bed in a wink, and shoved my feetin my stockings, and then on wi' my breeks, scratted up my booits"(boots) "i' my hand, and off I ran in my stocking feet. When I gathoalf-way up th' Braa th' clock struck five, and I pushed one fooit inmy booit, fastened up my gallasses, and ran on agean panting up th'hill, and just as I came t' th' gate I saw th' chapel door shut in myface, so I wor locked aat; but I wor noan baan to looise my meeting. While they insoid wor getting ready, I finished dressing mysen. By-and-bye I hears one on 'em give aat a hymn, and I clapped my ear t'th' key-hoil and listened for th' words, and then I put my maath to th'hoil and sang with 'em, and so I kept on until they began to pray. Then I listened, and shaated Amen through th' hoil, and kept on whileiver they prayed. At last my owd friend Bradley stopped in th' middleof his prayer, --'Oppen that door, ' he said, 'I canna pray with thatchap shaating in at th' key-hoil that road;' so they oppened th' door, and I went in and had my meeting after all, --but yo' moind I wor niverlate agean. "

Our little friend will be remembered as a lovefeast man for many yearsto come. His name had quite grown to be associated with the Conferencelovefeast of the Methodist New Connexion, and many are the affectionatereferences to our brother in these grand annual gatherings even to thisday. His voice is not now heard as it once was, along with that ofThomas Hannam, John Shaw, and men of like spirit and notoriety; but hisname is still fragrant in the affectionate memories of those who are inthe habit of attending our Conference lovefeast. 

"BREED 'EM YOURSENS. "

Although Little Abe was no narrow-minded sectarian, he still loved tofoster in the minds of his own children a preference for the peoplethat had, under God, saved his soul, and made him what he was, and hetried to bind his family to the Church of his choice. Spending aSunday in the town of Dewsbury, in company with a devoted brother andlocal preacher who is now in heaven, they were led to converse aboutthe Community to which they both belonged. Abe said, "I was born inth' New Connexion, never aat of it, and by God's help I'st die in it, and I hope my children after me. " And then, taking up an incidentwhich his own words had called to mind, he said, "My lad went by acheap trip to Hull t'other day, and what dost ta think wor th' firstthing he axed for when he gat there?" "Don't know, " replied hisfriend. "Why, afore he gat aat at station yard, he goes up to a manand says, 'Can yo' tell me th' way t' th' New Connexion Chapel?' Naa, "he added, looking across at his friend; "if yo' want th' roight soort, yo' mun breed um yoursens;" a saying which, put into other words, simply means that if we are to have reliable members in the Church, pious parents must bring in their own children, and let them grow up inthe fear of the Lord and love of His people, and the maxim is correct. 

CHAPTER XX. 

Patient in Tribulation. 

Abe Lockwood had to encounter many troubles arising from a variety ofcauses but that which seemed to harass him most was poverty. Having alarge family to bring up, and earning but moderate wages by hisemployment, his head was seldom above water; he just managed to keepabove the drowning point. Only the brave, honest, and godly poor whohave struggled through similar difficulties, can really know what thatgood man and his wife had to contend against in this way. 

Yet how often do we find poverty and piety yoked together in one house. What a mercy it is that piety will condescend to dwell with poverty;sit down at the same dry crust, or sit without it; wear the samepatched and threadbare raiment, and not complain; stay in the samecircle, endure the same hunger, cold, sickness, and suffering withunmurmuring constancy, and taking more than half the load of trouble onher own neck will sit the long night through, and "sing of mercy" tillthe day breaks, and the light comes, and the sun shines again. "Godliness with contentment is great gain. "

How many of the Lord's jewels have been ground, cut, and polished onthe wheel of poverty; polished, but not set, for poverty is neither thegold nor silver for the setting. No matter, God does not care for thesetting, it is the diamonds He loves, "and they shall be mine, saiththe Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels. "

When, however, industry, economy, and patient courage had done all, poor Abe was sometimes almost overwhelmed by hardships, --almost, butnot altogether. He had a firm faith in God, and used to say, "MyFather knows haa mich I can carry to a grain, and He wean't lay a strawtoo mony upon me, bless Him. " In the midst of all the little Bishopmaintained a happy heart and a cheerful countenance; he made as littleof his poverty as some people do of their luxuries, and an ordinaryobserver might have supposed he never had a sorrow, or felt a care. The fact is he did not hoard his troubles as some persons do; he didnot like them well enough for that. They hung very loosely about himat any time, and he shook them off as soon as he could; instead ofbuttoning them up in his breast, and keeping them until they rankled, festered, or turned sour, he loosened his bands, bared his bosom to thefirst healthy breeze of joy that blew, and laughed the moment hissorrows were gone. 

"WATTER GRUEL. "

He was one day walking several miles to a preaching appointment, incompany with another brother who was going to the same place. On theway his friend's nose began to bleed, and they had to stop, though theman's nose still kept on bleeding. Abe tried to stop it: he put a coldstone to the man's neck, held his arms up over head, and resorted to avariety of acknowledged remedies, but with very little effect. "Whatmun I do, Abe?" said the man. The little Bishop thereupon proceeded togive him his advice. "I'll tell the' what to do, " said he; "thaa munstrike at th' rooit" (root) "o' th' evil; thaa lives o'er high; thaashould try watter gruel for six weeks, and thaa'd cure that nose, that's haa I do. " A burst of laughter from both hastened the cure, andon they went again with the journey. There was in this quaint remarkof his just the slightest reference to the poor fare on which he hadmany a time set out on a long journey and a hard day's work in thecause of his Divine Master; often enough dear old Abe was like braveGideon of old, "faint, yet pursuing. "

He used to say when he met people who carried their troubles in theirfaces, "Yo' ha' no need to pull such lang miserable faces, raand 'um upa bit! What! are yo' gotten on dark soid o' th' hedge? Yo' mun flitinto th' sunshine, there's plenty o' room. " And what a blessing itwould be if people who nurse their sorrows would begin to count andcherish their joys instead; the world, and especially the Church, wouldbe full of bright faces and happy hearts. 

THE HALLELUJAH COAT. 

There was a time when Little Abe was badly provided against the cold, wet, inclement weather which he had to encounter in the work of theLord, and coming out of the chapels on winter nights exposed him tomany a dangerous chill. His only extra covering was a thick woollenmuffler around his neck, yet in this way he bore uncomplaining thebrunt of storm and pelt of rain. One Sunday night after the littleBishop had been preaching, a man came and invited him to supper beforestarting for home, and he went. Supper over, Abe prepared to be off;it was a bitter night, cold and wet. On seeing him about to start, thegood man said, "I've got something for you, Bishop. " Abe looked roundand saw him standing with a big, thick overcoat open, ready for him toput on. Without a word of remark he thrust his arms into the coat, andhis host proceeded to button it up from his throat to his heels, smiling all the time; this done, he stood back to look at him. Abeclapped his hands together, and shouted "Hallelujah! hallelujah!! Ican say now't else--hallelujah! a top coit! a hallelujah coit!" Andaway he went out into the darkness and rain shouting, "A Hallelujah topcoit!" That garment was always known after as "the hallelujah coit. "

TEMPTED OF THE DEVIL. 

Every Christian knows something of the wiles of the devil, and howbusily he goes about to tease, annoy, and break the peace of the Lord'speople. Abe had many a tussel with this enemy, but in the strength offaith and prayer he conquered him. During the early years of Abe'sChristian life the devil often endeavoured to raise doubts in his mindon fundamental truths; but Abe was not to be moved from the faith. What he could not understand nor explain, he yet believed with all hisheart, so that in time the enemy yielded every point of dispute up tohim, and Abe kept his heart in perfect peace, so far as these thingswere concerned. If Satan came to him, it was generally on someunimportant thing which might harass and divert from better things. Abe would say "Th' owd enemy 's ge'en o'er playing 'th' roaring lion, 'and turned into a flee, running and hopping all o'er me. " And thus thedevil would sometimes assail him, rousing his feelings, exciting hisimagination and anger, and kindling his resentment to a pitch thatsometimes made Abe almost ashamed of himself, especially as it was allabout nothing. 

ACCUSED OF SWEARING. 

After preaching one Sunday at Wellhouse, a place about four miles fromwhere he resided, he was making his way home in the cool of the summerevening, and had got within a very short distance of Berry Brow. Following on the same road was a man that knew Abe very well, who wastrying to overtake him. As this man drew nearer he heard the Bishoptalking rather loudly, and giving expression to some very extraordinarylanguage, accompanied by sundry violent flourishes of his walking-stickand stamping of his foot, and the man was amazed as he heard Abe breakout, "Thaa 'rt a liar, thaa owd devil!" A few moments' silencefollowed this outburst, during which the little man was walking like achampion racer; then suddenly he broke out again, "I tell the' thaa 'rta liar, and I will n't believe a word on 't. " Then followed anotherbrief silence, and then another excited explosion, which brought Abe toa standstill. "Didn't I tell the' I don't believe the'? Away withthe', thaa lying old devil!"

By this time the man came up to him and said, "Why, Abe, whatever artta swearing abaat soa on a Sunday noight?"

"Swearing! me swearing!" exclaimed Abe. "I'm noan swearing, my lad. "

"But I yeerd the' mysen. "

"When?"

"Naa, this minute; thaa called somebody a lying owd devil, and sichloike. "

"Oh, " said the little Bishop kindling at the sudden recollection ofwhat had been passing in his mind, "I've left my Sundaypocket-handkerchief in th' pulpit at Wellhaase, and th' owd devil wortelling me aar Sally wod scold me, and I told him he wor a lyingowd devil, and so he is; but I didn't knaw onybody could yeer me. " Inthis way the enemy assailed him on his way home from his pious work, grudging him the peace of mind which a good man has in the service ofhis Master. Satan would not raise any vital point of faith or dutywith Abe, because he knew he would be beaten, and Abe would be blest, and would rise high on the wings of his faith out of the devil's reach;but he could spring a snare upon the good man about hispocket-handkerchief, and gradually worry and tease him into a conflictuntil he forgot altogether the thought of better things. 

COUNTING THE ORGAN PIPES. 

Another amusing story is told of Little Abe, showing how Satansometimes succeeded in trailing a false scent across his path, andleading his mind astray for a time, or, so to speak, shunting him on toa siding, and keeping him there until he discovered the snare. He wassitting in Berry Brow Chapel listening, or endeavouring to listen, tothe preacher; it was soon after the new organ was introduced into thatplace of worship. Abe sat just opposite the organ, so that he couldnot avoid seeing it. Several times during the service the littleBishop had fidgeted about, and indicated signs of impatience from somecause or another; when all at once, to the astonishment of preacher andpeople, Abe exclaimed, "I tell the' there's soa many pipes in thatorgan, I've caanted 'em a dozen times already; if thaa doesn't believeit, caant 'em theesen, devil. "

We may imagine the effect produced by Abe's outburst of indignation, that the devil should doubt the accuracy of his counting in a matter sotrivial, as well as the annoyance and shame he felt that he had allowedhis old enemy to make a dupe of him again. Yet it is only anillustration of the insignificant things that serve to call off ourminds from the pursuit of holy studies. The devil would disputethrough a whole service about a couple of flies, rather than permit asaint to wait upon God without distraction. It shows that we need tobe very watchful against the influence of that arch enemy, even in theLord's house. 

Little Abe, with all his excellences, had his infirmities like othermen, and he felt them keenly. It was a cause of great grief to himwhen, through unwatchfulness, he was led into folly. "Could ye notwatch with me one hour?" was said to the weary disciples of old, andmight often be repeated to the Lord's people to-day. "Watch, therefore, lest ye enter into temptation. "

AN EVIL TEMPER. 

One source of temptation to Little Abe was his temper; and yet here fewwould think he had any trouble at all. If people who knew him werecanvassed on this question, the uniform testimony would be that he hada most even disposition; few could be found to testify that they eversaw him overcome by anger. He was, however, naturally of a quick, sensitive temper, and had to keep a jealous watch upon himself, inorder to hold this tendency in subjection; the consequence was that itseldom gained the mastery over him after his conversion. Grace turnedthe lion into a lamb, and subdued the evil spirit within him, and as hegrew in grace, the marks of the old Adam became less distinct. Stillit was always an occasion for prayer and watchfulness with him; hewould not allow himself to be tempted from this side of his character, if he could avoid it. Should anything transpire which was likely torouse the evil spirit, Abe would take his hat and run away, rather thanlet the enemy gain ascendancy over him; he felt that it was oftenbetter to "hide than 'bide. "

All our readers may not be troubled with a fiery temper, but they whoare should watch it closely, or they will burn themselves. If you havefire about, keep powder and petroleum out of the way, or there may bean explosion; he that tempts the fire with combustibles must surely paythe penalty sometimes. The safest and wisest policy is to put the fireout altogether; get the evil temper destroyed by Divine grace, and thenthis "sin shall have no dominion over you. "

CHAPTER XXI. 

"The Liberal Deviseth Liberal Things. "

Little Abe was endowed with a generous heart, but with very limitedmeans. He could generally say as the Apostles did to the lame man, "Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I thee;" yet heoften devised means whereby he could enjoy the luxury of giving toothers. His own children, and even those of the village, knew theycould get a penny from Abe if he had one in his pocket, although itmight be the last he had in the world, and many a time he might be seensurrounded by a swarm of children in the street, all begging sweets orsome other little trifle of him; and you want no better proof of aman's habitual kindness than to see him often beleaguered by littlechildren: they only beg where they get something. 

If any poor neighbour was in want, and Abe had any means of assistinghim, he would not wait to be asked. Many a time he has gone home toSally and told her of some poor creatures who had no bread in thehouse, and then he would wind up his tale of sorrow with, "Naa, lass, we'll be loike to tak' 'em a loaf, " whereupon the good woman would goto the cupboard and take out a big family loaf, and hand it to him, andhe would hurry away to gladden the hearts of the hungry children. 

People do not need to be rich to exhibit the spirit of true generosity, because it is not so much in the amount given, as in the spirit inwhich it is done, and the sacrifice involved in the act. It is a trulynoble thing for a wealthy man to bestow of his abundance on the needyaround him, and he who does so is sure to gain a place in theaffections of the people. Everyone admires a liberal man; indeed, itis questionable whether admiration for this quality may not sometimesblind us to other things in the same persons which are actual faults, and hence a man may be intemperate or profane or worldly, and peoplesay, "Well, but he is such a generous fellow, " and that is taken asmitigation of his faults: thus he is allowed to indulge in many wrongs, because he has one excellency in his character. Men are not oftenimpartial judges; their minds are warped by unduly regarding one virtuemore than another, and consequently their verdict on character is notalways reliable. Give a benevolent man his full meed of honour, butlet not his liberal gifts become the purchase price at which he mayobtain indulgence for other sins, or he makes morality only a mockery. 

Generosity is an essential mark of the Christian character, and shoulddisplay itself in every follower of our Lord. This is the spirit whichprompted the poor of the Lord's flock to share their scanty means amongtheir poorer brethren, and therefore, though Abe Lockwood was never inhis life worth many shillings at one time, he was one among a multitudeof humble and generous spirits moving in the lower walks of life, whooften enjoy the pleasure of relieving the wants of sufferers aroundthem. 

"A GOOD NAME IS BETTER THAN GREAT RICHES. "

Among the people in his own locality no one stood in better repute thanLittle Abe. If any sick person wanted spiritual direction or comfortthey would send for Little Abe. He was quite at home in the sick-room;the sight of his bright genial face would be sure to cheer thesufferer: and then he knew so well how to lead the penitent sinner tothe Saviour, that the gloom of many a bedside has been dispelled by hishumble ministrations in this way. 

He loved this work, and gave a great amount of his spare time invisiting the sick. He was ready to go anywhere, any time, night orday, that he might help to sustain the soul in the last trial of faith;and many an hour has he sat by the bedside of some dying neighbour, talking, singing, praying, and trying to cheer him through the valleyof death. 

The little Bishop was general religious factotum in his own village, and especially among those who were in any way connected with SalemChapel. In baptisms and burials he was held by many in as high reputeas the regular ministers. Often it happened that he was fetched bysome troubled parent to baptize a dying child, and he would perform therite with as great satisfaction to the friends, in his blue smock andclogs, as he could have done had he worn the white neckcloth, andpassed through ordination honours. 

"WILT TA KNUG?" (KNEEL). 

A man came one evening to Abe's house, knocked at the door, then openedit a little way, thrust in his face and said, "Is Abe in?" It was amost unusual thing to see that man there, for he was a wicked, drunkencharacter, a trouble to the neighbourhood where he lived, and often aterror to his poor wife and children. Many a time Abe had tried toinduce him to go to the Lord's house and begin to lead a new life; butsin had such a hold upon him that he only made light of everythinggood, and, in his ignorance and hardihood, professed to disbelieve inGod and His Word. 

"Is Abe in?" asked the face at the door. 

"Yes, I'm here, " replied the little man in question, looking up fromhis Bible, and peering over the lamp on the table to see who thespeaker was, "Come in, mon; open th' door and come in. "

And in a little further came the face and head, followed by a pair ofbroad shoulders and a huge body, whereupon Abe saw who they belongedto, and rising from his seat he noticed that the great hard face wasclouded and softened with sorrow. Ah, it is a hard heart that does notmelt sometimes. 

"What's ta want?" asked Abe, in a kind tone. 

"Arr bit bairn 's badly, " replied the big man, "and th' missus wantsthe' to come and sprinkle it. "

"Th' missus want me does she, --and what does thaa want?" said Abe, looking meaningly at him. "Does thaa want me to come?"

"Ay, " responded the man, looking rather humble, and feeling that Abehad obtained his first victory by that confession. 

"Well, I'll goa wi' the', " and, putting on his hat, they went outtogether, and betook themselves to the dwelling of the visitor. Arriving there Abe beheld a painful yet by no means uncommon picture. A room miserably furnished, and not the ghost of comfort anywhere;several little ragged children stood grouped together, and in the midstof them was the saddest figure of all--"the missus, " the wife, themother, in tears, and on her lap, wrapped in an old faded shawl, was adying infant. The woman tried to smile amid her tears as Abe came in, just the shadow of a smile, and then her poor face settled again tothat look of anguish it had before, as if all her meagre joy wereslowly dying with that little creature that lay feebly gasping on herlap. It was so like a woman to remember amid her grief, to give a signof welcome to her visitor. 

"Aye, my lass, I'm real sorry for the'; thaa has a mother's heart, Isee, and thaa'd loike to keep thee bairn, I knaw thaa wad; but thaa munremember God has first claim on 't, and if He wants it, thaa'll beloike to let Him ha' it. He can tak' better care on 't nor thaa can;bless it, it'll sooin be better off nor ony on us--don't fret, mylass--th' Lord comfort the'. " And so in this way Little Abe went ontalking, softening, comforting, and strengthening the bitter heart ofthat poor woman; at length he said, "Thaa wants me to baptize th'little un, I reckon. "

"If yo' pleeas, " she replied. "Jack, " added she turning to herhusband, who stood all the time with his back to the table, trying hardto keep his eyes dry and swallow down a lump that was continuallyrising into his throat, "get a basin o' watter, my lad. " It was saidso sadly and yet so kindly, that if Jack had had to go through fire tofetch that basin of water he would have got it. In a minute or two hecame with the basin in his big broad hand and stood close up to hiswife's side, looking down on his dying child. 

"This is a religious service, " said Abe, "and I want yo' to understandthat. " He had his doubts about the man, notwithstanding his evidenteffort to control his emotions; he knew the man's sinful character, knew his hostility to everything religious, and now that he had him tosomething like an advantage, he wanted to make the most of it. "I'mbaan to baptize that bairn in God's name, and we mun kneel daan andpray for it;" and then looking at the father he said, "Wilt ta knug"(kneel) "daan with us?"

The man made no answer, but still kept by his wife's side, looking downon the infant. 

"Wilt ta knug with us, Jack?" he repeated; "it's thy bairn, and it'llsooin be gone. " Still there came no reply; a conflict was going on inthe breast of that strong man, the wicked man of the world wascontending against the father. 

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

The man was conquered; the devil was strong in him, but the father wasstronger. He could not bear the thought of paying a slight to hisdying child. "I'll knug, " said he, and that instant he full on hisknees. Abe baptized the child, and then all of them knelt together, while he poured out his soul in earnest supplication to God for thechild and the family; but especially for the father who was now, almostfor the first time in his life, found humbly kneeling at the throne ofgrace. It would have been very gratifying if we could say that thiswas the turning-point in that man's life; but here our knowledge of thecase ends. It is, however, not too much to hope that the memory ofthat sad night, coupled with the loss of the little child, would have agood influence on the subsequent life of the man, and perhaps be themeans, under God, of leading him to seek that grace which alone couldafford 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 whichLittle Abe was held by the people among whom he lived. We see that hegained a decided advantage over the hardened sinner when he constrainedhim to kneel before the Lord; and it also shows that when scoffers andso-called unbelievers are brought into the shadows of death, theirunbelief forsakes them, and like devils, "they believe and tremble. "

It was no uncommon thing for Abe to be called out of the mill toconduct the burial service at Salem, in place of the minister, whoperhaps 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 thefamily and friends by not being present. He might have known he wouldbe wanted, and at what time of the day, and in what place, and it isvery unkind of him not to be there. Where is he? Poor innocent, he istramping off to a distant country appointment in simple ignorance ofthe misdemeanour of which he is guilty. A minister ought to knoweverything--know who is well and who is not; ministers are differentfrom all other people, and more is expected from them. If, forinstance, any one is ill, the doctor must be sent for; but the ministeris expected to come without being requested. It is his duty to attendto the sick of his flock. It is no matter whether he knows of theillness or not, he ought to know of it; a pretty shepherd he must benot to know if any of his sheep are ill; he should make inquiries forhimself among the people. Are any persons dead here, or any sick? anyto be prayed for? or are there any disaffected parties waiting to becoaxed into a good humour? any croakers in want of a good subject tovent their bile upon? or anything at all in the general ministerial waythat wants doing? A man could easily find out what is going on, andwhat is going off, with a little ingenuity and perseverance; and itwould save all the trouble and expense of a post card to the ministerasking him to call. Let us hope, therefore, that in future there willbe no misunderstanding upon these important matters, because everyplace in the land is not favoured with such an able, willing, andacceptable substitute as the people of Berry Brow had in Little Abe. 

Reference has already been made to the esteem with which he wasregarded by his fellow-work-people. As years went on this regard was, if possible, intensified, and it was beautiful to see how the youngermen in the mill would strive to lighten his work, and make his dutiesas easy for him as possible. Nor was this kindly feeling confined tothe mill operatives; his masters, gentlemen of high position in thelocality, 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, manyliberties and favours which could not be permitted to their employesgenerally; often one or another of his masters would come into themill, and have a few minutes' conversation with him about his work as apreacher, and his religious zeal, enlivened by his irrepressiblehumour, almost invariably sent the master away with his face coveredwith 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 Abebegan to show, by unmistakable signs, that he was becoming an old man;and although his lively temperament enabled him to hold up against hisinfirmities for some time, the day came when he confessed he was an oldman and stricken in years; he began to speak of himself as being "usedup, " "worn aat, " "done for, " and the like. All the marks were uponhim; his hair was snowy white, his face was furrowed with age, hissight was dim, his step was slow and feeble, his voice tremulous, andthe signs were plainly seen that the Little Bishop was drawing near theend of his journey. 

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

This coming so suddenly from the master was enough to stagger astronger man than Abe, and certainly he felt a little troubled at whathe had heard, but he could put his trust in God. 

"I'm vary sorry to laave, maaster, but I knaw I am gettin' owd and usedup. "

"And what will you do for a livelihood, Abe? I'm afraid you would notbe likely to get employment anywhere else at your age, what will youdo?"

"Well, I don't knaw what I mun do, but I'm sure my Father will niversee me want; 'I have been young and now am old, yet have I never seenthe righteous forsaken or his seed begging bread. '" This beautifultriumph of simple faith in God was soon followed by its reward; hismaster had carried the test far enough, he saw once more his oldservant was a man of God, his face broke out into a smile which showedhe had only been playing with Abe: "We have arranged to give you aweekly allowance sufficient to keep you and your wife as long as youlive. "

"Praise th' Lord!" exclaimed Abe, "I knew my Father would not see mewant. " So from that time our old friend received his weekly allowance, and was kept from want. The Lord takes care of His own children thattrust in Him, and He often does so through the agency of some otherindividual, yet whomsoever he be, he shall have his reward. "Whosoevershall give to drink unto one of these little ones a cup of cold wateronly in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall in nowise lose his reward" (Matt. X. 42). 

OUT OF HARNESS. 

When our old friend became so infirm as to be unable to work for hisdaily bread, we may naturally conclude that his labours as a localpreacher also necessarily terminated. It was a great trouble to him tohave to put off the harness; he struggled against it as long as hecould, until indeed it was no longer safe for him to go to his belovedwork; so he was compelled to stay at home, but never man left a callingwith greater regret than he did this, for he loved it with all hisheart. 

Nor was he alone in his regrets. Many shared in them when it was knownup and down that Little Abe was "out of harness, " and would come nomore. Some friends sitting together in one of the country places ofthe Circuit were talking about the preachers they had heard in thatplace, some of them in heaven, and some remaining till God should callthem home; reference was made to Abe Lockwood, or as he was oftencalled in the latter days of his life, "Old Abe!" "Ah, there's dear'Old Abe!' he'll never come again. " A fine little fellow that satlistening to the conversation rose to his feet, with his eyes full oftears, and exclaimed, "Why won't they let him come? If he only cameand stood in the pulpit for us to see him, it would do. " Old Abe was agreat favourite with children, and he was always fond of them;sometimes old age turns folks sour, crabby, and snarlish with children, but age only mellowed him, and made him more loving and loved. 

"WHERE'S 'T YOUNG PRAACHER?"

An amusing incident came under my notice during the time I was ministerat Wellhouse in the Huddersfield Circuit. I was in the front gardenone windy morning, attending to a few plants, and endeavouring toprotect them against the gusty wind, when I thought I heard someonecalling my name, but on looking up and seeing no one I resumed my task. In a moment or two I heard someone say, "Bless th' Lord! I've managedit at last, hurrah!" and on looking up, I saw Little Abe strugglingalong the steep pathway in a field just in front of my house, his headbare, his hat in his hand, his white locks tossed in wild confusion bythe gale, yet holding on by their roots, refusing to part from theirplace of nativity. 

"Well, I declare, here's Little Abe tipping about in the wind like ashuttlecock. " Out I ran, and getting hold of his arm towed him intodock. 

"Whatever has brought you here in such a gale of wind, Abe?"

"Hurrah! I'st see him naa, " was his only response. 

"See who?"

"Why, th' young praacher to be sure; ha'nt ye gotten a young praacherin your haase? I've come to see him. " So laughing heartily at Abe'sway of installing new members into the ministry, I opened the door andpushed him into the house. My wife was as much astonished at hisarrival as I was, yet very glad to see him, especially when he inquired"Where's t' young praacher? Let's see him. Come, hold him up; there, naa, put him on my lap and let me have a bit of talk to him. " And downhe sat, and the "young praacher, " at that time having advanced to theage of eight or ten weeks, was placed in the old man's lap, where helay complacently winking his eye at Abe while he told him how he hadleft home after breakfast and walked over the hills about five miles ina storm of wind on purpose to make the acquaintance of this "youngpraacher" whose name was already on the Circuit plan. And there hestayed for the day, talking, singing, and communing with his youngfriend till evening, when we sent him home by the train. 

Well, the time came when dear old Abe visited his friends nor stood inthe familiar pulpits any more; then everyone, young and old, felt theyhad sustained a loss. Yet this is the natural course of things all theworld over; the scenes of life are continually changing, so are themost familiar and most beloved faces in those scenes; they come, andcome, and come again, until we unconsciously acquire the habit ofexpecting them, but when at length they do not reappear as formerly, werealize an unexpected loss. 

How many grand and familiar faces have disappeared from our pulpits andsanctuaries since we first began to remember things! In running themind's eye back into byegone years, what a number we can call intorecollection who are gone, never to return; while the truth is forcedupon us, we are daily hurrying after them, and ere long some otherswill miss our faces from among the familiar scenes, and let us hope, will regret our absence. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

"Better is the End of a Thing that the Beginning. "

It was known by Little Abe that his infirmities were premonitory of theend which was not far off. He knew that though he might be permittedto linger for a while in the border land, he must soon receive commandto march over the boundary, and enter the eternal world. Just as ashock of corn remains in the field to dry and ripen after the shearing, so our old friend remained in his place here for a short time, ripeningfor the heavenly garner. 

He had just sufficient strength to go quietly about among his oldfriends in the village, and talk over the good things of his Father'skingdom; or he could get as far as the chapel, which was ever dear tohim, and the more so now that he felt the time was fast approachingwhen he should enter it no more. He knew that before long his happyspirit would be called up to worship in a grander temple, among amultitude of those "who had washed their robes, and made them white inthe blood of the Lamb;" and as he sat in old Salem, and listened to thesweet notes of the organ, his thoughts were oft carried away to thegreat temple above, where day and night the harpers are striking theirjoyous strings to the Redeemer's praise. Often when the choir chantedthe solemn words:--

 "What shall I be, my Lord, when I behold Thee, In awful majesty at God's right hand; And 'mid th' eternal glories that enfold me, In strange bewilderment, O Lord, I stand? What shall I be? these tears, --they dim my sight, I cannot catch the blisful vision right, "

he was like one enraptured, as with tearful eyes, quivering lips, andclasped hands he listened to the soul-stirring hymn. Little Abe wasripening for the end. 

"ARISE! LET US GO UP TO BETHEL. "

A touching little incident is told of him about this time. He alwaysretained an affectionate regard for the old tree on Almondbury Common, where many years before he had made his peace with God, and now astrong desire was felt by him to visit the consecrated spot once morebefore he died. It was his Bethel pillar; against that old tree he hadrested his weary head on the dark night of his desolation; there theLord God had appeared to him, and filled his soul with the joys of hissalvation; there the morning of a new life first broke upon histroubled spirit; there he had made a covenant with the God of Jacob. That old pillar was anointed with the first tears of sanctified joywhich ever fell from his eyes; it was the altar on which he offered hisbroken and renewed heart to God, and he felt as if the Lord had givenit to him as an inheritance and a monument of His pardoning mercy. 

He must see it once more and renew his vows to God; so one day theywrapped him up in his great coat, and gave him his stick, and sent himforth alone to his first sanctuary. Feebly and slowly the old man madehis way to the spot, and standing on the very ground, and with his handupon the same old tree, he saw how the locality was altered. Men hadbeen busy during these years, population had increased in theneighbourhood, houses were built in different places, and many changeshad taken place. But there still remained the little running streamclose by, --figure to him of the stream of Divine grace, that had neverbeen cut off, never dried up in the drought of summer, never stopped bythe chill of winter, never lost in the wild growth of the wildernessworld; but on and on it flowed, down the incline of the moral world, winding and turning from side to side, as if to gladden all in itscourse, away down the hill among the gaps of the rocks, and over thegravelly ground of human life, until it finds its way again into theriver of God's eternal love. And there too, stood the tree, themonument; but both man and tree bore unmistakable marks of age. Theunwearying fingers of time had planted innumerable mosses against itsbark; some of its old branches had withered, its foliage was scantierthan of old; it was ripe, too; man and tree were both ripe and ready tofall. 

What a sympathy there was between them, what a friendship, what asecret! How many storms had both those old trees encountered since Godfirst threw them together! The old elm had shaken, bent, and groanedunder the violent grasp of the tempest, which hundreds of times hadswept across that common. But it still stood, patiently and bravelywaiting, amid the rolling years, for the end. Brave old elm! There isno sympathy in a tree, or this final meeting would have awakened it;but what matter? There is enough in man for the tree and himself too, enough to kindle regard in his heart for every square inch of timber inthat old trunk; enough to make him see eyes in every joint--lovingeyes, looking at him in mute affection; enough to transform every limbinto strong arms stretched out to protect the old man in hisfeebleness, and enable him to see a smile in every wrinkling crack andfissure in thy hard, weather-beaten bark. Dear old elm, there needs noapology if a man love thee. 

Who could wonder if Old Abe felt something like this for that tree? weshould wonder if he did not. There, Old Abe, dear trembling old man, rest thy white, honoured head against the breast of that elm, and weepif thou wilt, and never mind whether man understand thee or not, Goddoes. Weep, old man, but not in fear; thou hast nothing to fear, Godis with thee, and "the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. " Itis the natural vent for those feelings which come crowding in uponthee, some from the long past, and some from the approaching future, now rapidly drawing on, with all its revelations of wonder and delight. 

And thus old Abe stood with his head resting against the tree, his eyesclosed, his tears running, and his lips silently moving in prayer toGod; so he paid his vows once more, and gathered strength for the fewremaining days of his pilgrimage; then he retraced his steps towardshome, and by the time he arrived there he was entirely himself again, and no one would guess the emotion he had felt at Bethel. 

"Well, Sally, " he exclaimed, as he re-entered his cottage, "I've beento th' owd spot! They have hewn all abaat it, but th' owd tree standsyet God 'll keep that tree while I live, and then they may do what theylike wi' it. "

So Abe went on, quietly severing himself from one tie after anotherwhich bound him to this world, and getting ready for his departure toanother and a better. His mind was now steadfastly turned towards thefuture, and he was continually looking for his promised rest. Thenearer he got, to the end of his life, the clearer his prospects ofheaven became; he enjoyed a most unclouded hope of glory. Often hewould say, when talking with his friends, "You'll be hearing somemornin' before lang that Abe is gone, and yo' needn't ask where. Tak'my word for it, I'll be in glory. If you should hear I'm dead, you mayset it daan that I'm in heaven. "

A brother local preacher had lain ill for some time, expecting everyday to be his last. Abe thought he would like to see him once morebefore he passed away, and accordingly he went, and the two oldveterans spent a happy time together, conversing about the joys whichwere before them. "We're both aat of harness naa, thaa sees, " saidAbe, "and we'll sooin be at haam. I want the' to tell them I'm coming, and shall n't be long after the'. "

Everyone thought that Abe would live the longer of the two, but hegained his prize first, passing away a little before his brother, andnow they both "rest from their labours, and their works do follow them. "

Abe's remaining strength rapidly failed him at the last, so that he wasunable to leave his room; yet he was always happy in prospect of theimmortal life before him. "No aching bones or tottering limbs there, "he would say; "Glory to God! I shall sooin be young agean. " The Bibleand hymn-book were his constant companions now, and in peacefulexpectation he waited for the signal that would open to him the portalsof the skies. 

The annual lovefeast was held during the time when he was a prisoner inhis room, and it was a privation to him not to be able to get thereonce more, but it was not to be. They would hear his voice no more inSalem, but before long he would have to relate his enrapturing storyamong listening angels and saints before the throne. Several of thefriends came down from the chapel to see him. He said, "Aye, lads, Icould loike to ha' been amang yo' once maar, but th' next toime I crossSalem doorstep I shall be carried over; but ne'er moind, I have seen adoor opened in heaven, and I shall sooin go through--hallelujah!"

At last he took to his bed never to rise again; the time of hisdeparture was at hand. As, however, his body lost strength, his spiritseemed to gain it; the words of the psalmist were ever on his lips, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fearno evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. "

"Listen, " he said one day, "when I can't spaike to tell yo' haa I feel, I'll lift my hand, and yo'll knaw all's weal. " This was for theirsakes. He wanted to leave a token with his dear wife and children thatshould antidote their sorrow when he was gone. 

A friend came one day from a distant town to see him; he felt very sadat finding him so near his end, and could not refrain from tears, butwhen the old man saw him weep, he began to repeat as well as his feeblevoice would allow--

 "Break off your tears, ye saints, and tell How high your great Deliverer reigns; See how He spoiled the hosts of hell, And led the monster Death in chains. "

And then he took the part of comforter: "Aye, my lad, what art talooking so sad abaat? Thaa mun't be cast daan, thaa mun come up aat o'th' valley; bless th' Lord!" he ran on, "I'm on Pisgah, and my soul isfull of glory. I'm in soight o' th' promised land, hallelujah! I'llsooin be at haam. "

In this happy frame he continued to the last. As long as he couldspeak at all, words of exultation and praise rose to his lips, and whenhe could no longer articulate, he fell back upon the signal, and liftedhis hand, in token that all was well. Dear old Abe, he was come to theend of his course, the shades of death were upon him, he was crossingthe narrow strip of neutral ground that divides the two worlds; friendsstood in the margin of the shadow-land, watching him feebly lift hishand as he went over, till he could lift it no more, and when thesignal dropt mourners knew that Old Abe was safe through. 

He died in the Lord in November 1871, and left a memory behind thatgrows more fragrant as years go on. His dust lies buried in thegraveyard in front of Salem Chapel, where, five years later, theremains of his devoted wife, Sally, were laid beside him. There lettheir dust sleep until that day "when they that are in their gravesshall hear His voice, and come forth. "

"Oh, " said a good woman one day when talking over the subject of thesepages, "I should just like to have an odd look into heaven, to see whatLittle Abe is about. " What is he about? He is praising God in theglorious temple above: "And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? And Isaid unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are theywhich came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, andmade them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they beforethe throne of God, and serve Him day and night in the temple. Theyrest not day and night saying, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come. "

THE END.