EXPERIENCES IN PERSONAL EFFORT.
By C. E. Mandeville
A BIT of experience in my early ministry made a deep impression on my mind, and one which has helped me over some hard places many a time since. It relates to my first great revival, and had much to do with its success, and with the success of many in later years. Like many other young ministers, I was timid, and shrank from doing what I felt I ought; and this was especially true when I was impressed that I should speak to some one in the congregation during special services. One night I left the altar and went down the aisle fully determined to speak to some one, and as I neared the back seats I fixed my eyes on a group of young ladies, and the one nearest to the end of the pew, I had heard, was to be married in less than two weeks. I was impressed that I ought to ask her to give herself to the Lord; but something said to me: “Don’t do it; her head is too full of other things now to think of religion. Wait until she gets married and you will have a better chance.” I yielded to the temptation and returned to the altar feeling like a coward, as I was. A little over a week from that time news came to the parsonage that Miss ——, was dead. She was buried in her bridal robes. At the funeral, when I looked down into that beautiful casket at the face of the dead, my heart was smitten with condemnation, and a question propounded itself: “How changed might be the condition of this precious soul had you done your full duty on that night of opportunity.” But a little while after this, in the same series of meetings, I was going down the opposite aisle in search of some one whom I might speak to about the interest of his soul. I had not gone far before my eye rested on Major ——, the principal merchant of the town. “Why not speak to him?” whispered a voice. “But,” said another voice, “he’s old and wise enough to seek the Lord without your help. If you should speak to him he would be offended and never come to another service.” So I passed on and went the full length of the aisle; but on my return, when I reached the pew where the major was sitting, something said: “Remember the fate of the young lady. This man may likewise be beyond help in a few days.” My soul was greatly stirred. I said: “I’ll speak to him if it kills me;” and, without further parley with the devil, I leaned over and asked him a few questions, the last of which was: “Will you go with me to that altar and seek salvation?” Like a man, as he was, his answer was prompt: “I will,” and as he went there was a decided sensation in the audience. Only a couple of weeks after the eventful night a messenger came in great haste to inform me that the major was very ill, and wanted to see me at once. I went and found him near death’s door, but calm and peaceful. God’s will was his will, and he was ready for the summons. Three days after he died. When I looked in the casket which held his remains, a feeling of great satisfaction came over my soul, and I said: “Thank God that I had the strength and courage to do my duty to this man at that supreme moment.” O, that we could realize that “Time is flying and souls are dying.” Our friends and neighbors are slipping from us and we from them. What we do must be done quickly.—Dr. C. E. Mandeville.