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Memories of Half a Century
No. 2. —Mother’s Strong Faith.
If there is a man living whom I love, it is the old
pioneer preacher. My early association with that
class of God’s faithful toilers, my familiarity with
their faithfulness and devotion to duty, led me
to esteem them lightly “for their work’s sake,”
and implanted in my heart a love and veneration
for them that the years have never obliterated.
The young preacher of today knows very little
of the hardships and privations of the old gospel
pioneers. The toil, the poverty, the long journeys—•
the “weariness often” —sometimes “cold and hun
ger”—all patiently endured, for Christ and lost
souls, and all recorded in “God’s book of remem
brance,” to purchase for them “a good report,”
and to constitute them “a royal diadem in the hand
of the King” at the last great day.
Ah, young preacher, see to it that "when you and
they shall meet at the Judgment, each to receive the
reward, theirs shall not be the brighter crown!
My father belonged to that class of preachers;
and I would to God that, at the end of my life, the
record of the son, for consecrated toil and faithful
devotion to the Master’s service, might be equal to
that of the father.
It is not humiliating to confess that we were
poor in those days, and knew by experience what
hardship and privation, yea, sometimes, what hun
ger, was. The settlements in Ontario, Canada, were
widely scattered, the country very new, the peo
ple poor, and money very scarce. It is not sur
prising, therefore, that father’s remuneration for
his service was meager indeed. Sometimes, after
weeks, possibly months, of absence, he would come
home with a little money, and his “portmanteau”
—some of my young readers will not know what
that is—full of clothing, to be washed and made
ready for another trip. A very little farm fur
nished a small portion of our living, but with all
this we often felt the sting of poverty; though
it was more easily borne then as everybody else
was poor around us.
It will be readily understood that, for mother,
these things involved a heavy burden, and oft times a
great trial of her faith. But, looking back over
those years of trial, I can bear testimony that
her faith never failed. When “worse came to
want,” she always had recourse to God’s throne
of grace. To her God’s promises were “yea and
amen.” She believed them. She trusted them.
She rested on them. She pleaded them, when nec
essity led her to seek her closet, and lay her bur
dens before God in prayer.
We children well knew what it meant, when
mother would lay down her work and go into her
bedroom and shut the door. We had learned that
this action always followed a scanty larder and a
gloomy outlook. At such times we would talk in
whispers, for we knew that mother was having an
audience with God. Presently she would come out,
and we knew by the shining of her face that God
had heard and answered, and beneath her were
“The Everlasting Arms.”
Then she would get the old Bible, and would
say: “Come, children; let us read our favorite
Psalm,” and as we gathered around her she would
read: “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures,” etc.,
Psalm 23. Then, kneeling, she would carry the
absent husband and father and herself and children
to God, in prayer and thanksgiving.
Dear, precious mother! The very tones of your
voice come to me now, floating over the vanished
years. Up in heaven can you know how your boy
longs once more to hear those accents of prayer and
that voice in song?
Did God answer her prayers? Yes, always.
Sometimes the provisions got low —sometimes al
most failed, but the cruse of oil and the barrel of
meal never were entirely empty.
I give one illustration of the many I remem
ber. It was a very hard, cold winter. For more
than a week the snow had fallen and drifted, till
the roads were blocked, and travel impossible, except
By H. P. Pitch.
where the neighbors had shoveled their way into
and through the fields.
Far to the north father was “snow-bound.” No
mails to tell him of our wants, or us of his con
dition. Then we knew that mother was going down
into the deep waters. Every day that season of
silent supplication was held in her bedroom. One
day she came out and her face shone like that of
Moses when he came down from the Mount of
God; and, instinctively, we knew she had met the
Master. The favorite Psalm was read, and a prayer,
which was nearly all thanksgiving, followed. Hardly
had it ceased, when there was a rap on the door,
and Deacon Maynard entered. I see him now, as he
stood there, a tall, light favored Scotchman, and
his words have followed me along life’s pathway
for more than sixty, years:
“Mrs. Fitch,” he said, “I killed a beef yester
day, and also some hogs. Last night I awoke from
sleep and thought of you, and feared you might
be in need, as your husband must be snow-bound
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this terrible weather. I have brought you a quarter
of a beef, some pork, a bag of flour and a bag of
potatoes. Can you use them?”
We all thought we could use them, and, standing
there, with her children around her, crying for joy,
mother lifted her hands and with faltering voice ut
tered her thanksgiving to God.
Nelv Home Tor Piercer Boys.
The new President of Mercer University at Ma
con, Ga., Dr. S. Y. Jameson, is winning laurels as a
vigorous and victorious leader in the field of Chris
tian education. He has been at the helm of Mercer
about nineteen months —facing many difficulties
w 7 hen he came, but during this time the electric
thrill which seemed to stir every fibre of the institu
tion from his first masterly touch, has stimulated
the friends of Mercer far and wide, bringing also
many new friends, both to the student body and the
financial support of the college.
More than three hundred young men have matric
ulated this year —the largest enrollment in the his
tory of the institution. The endowment movement,
under the wise and constructive leadership of Sec
retary John R. Jester, of the Georgia Baptist Edu
cation Board, has been eminently successful, and
but for the financial panic so keenly felt in Georgia,
this movement for $300,000 additional endowment
would have been rounded out before the close of
1907.
The Golden Age for February 27, 1908.
THE NEW CAMPUS HOME-MERGER UNIVERSITY.
But the one thing which is “holding the center
of the stage” right now for the Mercer students is
the completion of the beautiful new Campus Home,
a handsome brick building costing $50,000 and ac
commodating two hundred young men. The new
dormitory is so delightfully furnished and so mag
nificent in all of its appointments that it has done
much to popularize life on the campus. Although
college enthusiasm is always at par and generally
at a premium at Mercer, decorum is also at a prem
ium and the far-famed “Mercer spirit” manifests
itself to a remarkable degree in high ideals on the
campus. It has been truly said, “Manhood counts
at Mercer.”
The Phi Delta and Ciceronian literary societies,
which have long been the pride of Mercer and the
“grindstone” of college debaters and orators, are
flourishing this year, creating enthusiasm for the
spring contests and especially the coming battle be
tween Wake Forrest and Mercer.
The twilight meetings of the college Y. M. C. A.,
which are held every evening in Selman Hall, are
at once the spiritual barometer and tonic of the
student body. All told, the Mercer skies were never
so bright before in the more than half a century of
her glorious history.
"Tainted Nelvs. n
To editors throughout the country has come an
impressive proof-sheet of print and pictures, enti
tled “Prohibition in the State of Maine After 56
Years,” and thus addressed:
“To the Editor:
“This matter is sent to you without charge. . . .
“If you desire a mat of the entire page, includ
ing both type and cuts, or if you desire a plate of
the entire page, or a plate of the cuts alone, I am
prepared to forward them to you immediately on
receipt of letter or telegram stating which you de
sire. No charge will be made to you for cuts or
mats except that express charges will not be pre
paid. Edward Staats Luther.”
The long columns of print and the big pictures
of bottles, dives and sordid dens are all devoted,
with an air of judicial detachment, to showing that
“an impartial investigation proves that prohibition
is not a success.” Who paid the expenses of the
“impartial investigation”? Whose money paid
for setting the type and making the plates? Can
it be that the harried brewers are imitating Stand
ard Oil? Careless and indolent editors there are
who thoughtlessly use such stuff; others there are
to whom appeals the saving of the expense of set
ting a page of type; and all of them serve the in
terest of whoever is back of this philanthropic en
terprise.
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