Glass3V&<£rtfe Book tC^IT^ Copyright^? COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. x^ OD.i'TpVE Col George R Clarke Sarah D Clarke founders of— tacGiraiioNl -yy*. iiiiiiii The Founding of Pacific Garden Mission OVER THIRTY- FIVE YEARS Contributed to THE MASTER'S SERVICE By SARAH D. CLARKE a € Copyright 1914 by The Bronson Canode Printing Company Ch icago LC Control Number tmp96 030348 JAN 25 1915 $ \ ©CU391573 To the Sacred Memory of MY DEAR HUSBAND this Book is Affectionately Dedicated This world is very lonely, dear, Since Paradise has called you there: No loving touch, no words to cheer, Nor all my joys nor sorrows shate. A Few Incidents from Daily Life I N the year 1910, at the solicitation of a friend, was persuaded to give a little sketch of my life, and the founding of Pacific Garden Mission, thinking it might encour- age — SOME — anxious heart, long- ing to be more used in the Master's service, I did so. But the busy responsibilities of daily life prevented me from put- ting it in print, 'til the year 1914, being disenabled by an accident, availed myself of this opportunity. ^PQ Was born November 13, 1835, in Cayuga County, New York — had the advantages of Sunday School, and from youth, longed to become a Christian, (having no knowledge of cards, theatres, or the dance) but no one ever asked me personally about the interests of my soul until the year 1855, when returning from Wilkesbarre seminary with a friend, while on the platform of Scranton Depot, about to separate, asked me if I would " give my heart to God." I then— and there— said I WOULD, — which was the beginning of my Christian life. A few years later — in 1861, moved to Waterloo, Iowa — where I received a God given message, controlling l 10 ) the whole trend of my future life. Was faithful in all my church re- lations, but never knew the value of consecrated time — until the comple- tion of an elaborate piece of work for the decoration of our family home, when an audible voice seemed to speak from Heaven, saying: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO DECORATE YOUR HEAVENLY HOME?" This soul-penetrating question so impressed me with time's sacred value — God's precious time — God's priceless time, being spent on earthly adornments that would per- ish — when souls won for the Master would adorn the Heavenly Man- sion through all the cycles of eternity. ( 11 ) The recognition of this stupend- ous fact, placed such a premium on time — such a value on souls — that it at once became the all absorbing and consuming passion of my life, and the agencies that have been set in motion, are still multiplying their influences in the world today — that will live — on and on — yes on — and — on — forever. Moving to Chicago a few years later, supposed I must conform to city customs, but when trying to make so called " fashionable " calls, began to remonstrate with my con- science in spending time so unsatis- factory — it seemed so perfunctory — only an empty void — so changing my attire — visited some poor fami- ( 12 ) lies and in ministering to their needs found such a real soul satisfaction — such a consciousness of God's ap- proval — that I was at once con- vinced my mission in life had been revealed. Soon after, having a large num- ber of poor families on my list, joined with others in starting a MISSION SUNDAY SCHOOL in 1869, at the corner of State and Twenty-third Streets. While thus engaged, Mr. Clarke appeared on the scene. ( 13 ) He was born February 22, 1827, in Otsego County, New York; gradu- ated at Beloit College, Wisconsin; was chosen principal of the Milton Academy, edited a paper called (Sauk County Stan dard) also studied law, and in 1853 was admit- ted to the bar — later turning his at- tention to real estate spent two years in Colorado among the miners, where a combination of events were the means of his conversion. When on the eve of participating in a questionable business transac- tion— PROVIDENCE DIVINELY interposed through the remem- brance of his sainted Mother's pray- ers, not only awakening his consci- ence to the penalty of such a trans- gression, but the enormity of sin in God's sight, so convicting him — his purpose was averted. ( 14 ) And with great agony of con- science he repented before the Lord until he had the assurance of for- giveness through the DIVINE ATONEMENT of the LORD JESUS CHRIST. When the war broke out in 1860, he returned to Chicago, secured re- cruits for the 113th Illinois Volun- teers, was made Captain of the Company — promoted to Major, then to Lieutenant Colonel, and at the close of the war returning to Chi- cago, resumed real estate activities, and through a business transaction, formed his acquaintance, and in — January 23, 1873, we were married. ( 15 ) Wmmmm^msmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm^s^ He remained a Christian — al- though still clinging to some of the fashionable indulgences of the world — but through the influence of the little — Mission Sunday School — began to consider the deeper things of life — his example and influence as a Christian, and the expenses formerly indulged in for Cuban cigars to entertain his guests, and other expenses in pro- portion, soon found a place in the Lord's treasury, and he became an active worker in HIS VINEYARD. He had always intended to be as- sociated in some prominent enter- prise in the Lord's cause, where his name could be engraven on marble — or granite — but the Lord had a ( 16 ) higher degree of honor, where his name might be engraven on the tab- let of human hearts — where it would be imperishable and live for- ever. Fortunes came and went but not until the great Chicago fire in 1871, causing most of the church- es to locate in the outskirts of the city, leaving Gambling Halls, Sa- loons and Brothels to infest the de- serted district it was at this juncture — an open door seemed needed, where the neglected masses might find refuge, and in 1877, at 386 South Clark Street, the first — RESCUE MISSION — in the Northwest was borne into existence. < 17 , 3J8 SOUTI £ STREET. A little room with seating capac- ity of about forty — a few wooden benches, a wheezy organ — some home-made mottoes, and oil lamps hanging on the side walls — com- prised our paraphernalia. Saloons on either side with their banjos and accompanying instru- ments was a great combination — however — we held the fort — Mr. Clarke preached — and I tried to keep crooked men straight. But such a coming and going was never seen before. Order — Heav- en's "first law" — had never been injected in their minds and it took the wisdom of Solomon to separate the drunken men and keep that crowd in order. ( 20 ) However, curiosity was soon sat- isfied, and when we had found favor with the audience good results fol- lowed. Four professed conversion, three giving evidence of a definite work of grace. This was an indication of God's approval. Christian workers began to come in — missions began to multiply, not only in the city, but throughout the country, until now there is no end. Many noted Evangelists and mis- sion workers, such as, Rev. W. A. Sunday, America's renowned Evangelist; — Rev. Melvin E. Trotter, famous for establishing Rescue Missions (has now over forty under his supervision) ; — ( 21 ) Harry Monroe, with his God- given talent for mission work, has had charge of the meetings at the Mission since Mr. Clarke's decease. And a multitude of others, scattered all over the world, occupying places of great responsibility and prom- inence, both as ordained Ministers, Evangelists, and Christian workers. Over 30 blessed years of prison work — and nearly the same time of hospital visitation — and all other departments of Christian work has been maintained under the supervision of the Mission. Chicago's first free kindergarden was established at the Mission. < 22 ) I Now As to Finances One look backward causes me to marvel, when I think of the vicis- situde through which the Mission has passed — it's testings and tri- umphs — it's struggles and victories will never be known, until the RE- CORDING ANGEL reveals the secret record. Nothing in sight at this time to mn a mission — finances at a low ebb — but we had a rich Father and we trusted Him. "He who marks the sparrow's fall," has always shielded us in times of storm. We struggled on for a season, with persistent self-denial, until the ( 23 ) • thought impressed us that the in- dulgences of former years (in the days of plenty) could be disposed of, to be a great auxiliary to the work, so we placed ALL upon the altar — all of our jewelery, of every descrip- tion, Diamonds, and other valued presents, (with associations, too sacred to mention) — all alike was given to the Lord, for His cause — and for souls. The Lord blessed this consecra- tion, in presenting an opportunity whereby Mr. Clarke, having knowl- edge of mining operations, could engage in an investment where he realized means sufficient to adjust his business matters, and run the Mission for nearly ten years. ( 24 ) When another crisis came, where for months, it seems the doors must be closed * * * but the Mission having found favor with the public, financial aid finally came to our relief, and to whom, the Mission is still financially, practically in- debted. ( 25 ) The Mission's Great Loss For fifteen years Mr. Clarke and myself were permitted to labor side by side in this blessed work, until June 22, 1892, the Recording Angel summoned him to his Eternal Man- sion — the Mission sustaining a great loss. But his sainted memory still lives. "ABSENT yet SPEAKETH," for their works do follow them — "Kind words and deeds will never die/' and many will rise up at that last "great day" to call him "blessed." ( 26 ) (A little Ode, zvritten on his 63rd birthday shows the natural trend of his great, loving heart.) Ode to My Beloved Wife on My Sixty-third Birthday I'm sixty-three today, dear wife, How quickly time has sped, The larger part of childhood's friends, Lie mouldering with the dead; But since our paths of life were joined. A happy life I've led. I've marched along with you, dear wife, Our steps with knee to knee, My heart enrapted with you, my dear, And your warm heart with me; For thus, dear wife, it ever should, With married people be. I 27 ) A truer wife than you have been, Since we were joined IN ONE, Ne'er sat beneath the moon's pale light, Or walked beneath the sun; I well might say till then, dear wife, My life had not begun. 'Tis true it has not been, dear wife, All "rose without a thorn," How could it be, since we were wed, On such a stormy morn ; And yet the many cares of life, Have all been sweetly borne. No child has graced our wedded life, In all these passing years, Nor have we nights of vigil kept, O'er such with anxious fears ; Nor death has filled for us a cup, With sorrow and with tears. ( 28 ) Not oft we've sat around our hearth, On winter's stormy night, To look upon the glowing coals, Of fires burning bright, But trust we've brought to darken'd hearts, A little more of light. The pleasure-seeking world, my dear, To us has been unknown, As year by year away from it, We steadily have grown; And yet, dear wife, apart from it, We ne'er have lived alone. In living thus for others, dear, We've found a solace sweet, As we have tried to lesson some The tramp of weary feet ; And caused some aching hearts, I trust, More cheerfully to beat. ( 29 ) We have not traveled far from home, While traveling every day, Nor have we seen the wondrous sights, Of countries far away; But we have homeward led again Some feet which went astray. We've worshiped not in churches grand, Or sat in cushioned pews, But we have told to sinful men, The Gospel ! Blessed neivs ; And filled with holy oil I trust, Some widow's empty cruise. Not much have we to leave the world, Of silver and of gold, Nor large estate, nor titled names, Of lineage grand and old; Nor have we lived a selfish life, With hardened hearts and cold. ( 30 ) But then, dear wife, I trust we leave, A little brighter place, In some once darkened hearts on earth, (Before they saw our face), Which more than wealth or fame, my dear, May benefit our race. The blessed Lord who loves us, dear, Has very faithful been, To knit our hearts together, love, And keep our pathway green; And all along His guiding hand, In everything is seen. There's no such thing as growing old, To loving hearts and true, Each year has brought a sweeter joy, To me, my dear, and you; To us the oft recurring years, Bring always something new. ( 31 ) We've climbed the hill together, dear, And passed the summit o'er, Not far ahead we see the light, Of Bulah's happy shore; Soon we shall see the face of Him, Our hearts so much adore. And when the night of death comes on, Perhaps "the white winged dove," May bear our souls together, dear, To live with Christ above ; And share together with His saints, The treasures of His love. And He may grant us then to see, The good that we have done, The many happy souls that we, To Him perhaps have won, As at his pierced feet we lay The golden sheaves all down. ( 32 ) So let us plod along, dear wife, As we are wont to go, And scatter seeds of kindness, dear. On saddened hearts below, And trust the Lord to gather in The harvest that we sow. Col. George R. Clarke. Chicago, Feb. 22, 1890. ( 33 ) Eighteen long years have passed since his decease, with its multi- plicity of cares, borne — (humanly speaking) — ALONE — but marvel- ously sustained by Divine Grace. God's Providential care in all the midnight journeys — preservation of health — through Divine interposi- tion miraculous strength was given to overcome the trivial bodily ail- ments, enabling me to be in attend- ance at the Mission over six thou- sand consecutive nights. A few verses from the "inner- life," dedicated to his sacred memory some years after his decease — still retain a living place in my heart. ( 34 ) ■ .':/,: J A Tribute Sacred to the Memory of My Dear Husband This world is very lonely, dear, Since Paradise has called you there; No loving touch, no words to cheer, Nor all my joys and sorrows share. I list in vain for the tread of feet, And long for a touch of the "vanished hand;" But no loving form is it mine to greet, Since called to join the Celestial band. The journey now I tread alone, Bereft of all my loved ones here, Whom the Lord has gathered round His throne, To be forever with Him there. ( 35 ) £ Angelic hosts are hovering near, To guard me safely every hour, But cannot speak those world so dear, That human lips, can clothe with power. No one to greet at "early morn;' No one to say the fond "good night," No one to meet me at the door. With loving heart and face so bright. The lonely days, the months, the years, Are only known to Him on high, For He who "bottles all our tears," Has numbered every secret sigh. I'm coming soon to meet you, dear, The journey now is almost o'er, A few more sheaves to gather here, We'll meet up there to part no more. Sarah D. Clarke. Chicago, 1910. ( 36 ) Reminiscences In the days of long ago, when Evangelist D. W. Potter had charge of the meetings a night each week ( 37 ) at the Mission, and under whose ministry so many were converted, Harry Monroe, being one of the number, who has been such a faith- ful watchman on the walls of Zion, "Not keeping his peace day nor night." i 1 When dear Brother and Sister Elderkin favored us, singing the precious Gospel, seeming to bring Heaven a little nearer through the melody of their "elysian song." When our faithful Brother, Tony Delight, with his fresh zeal and spirited testimony moved so many to new purposes of life. ( 39 ) When Hon. J. V. Farwell with his inspiration and enthusiasm would arouse people to the mighty possi- bilities of the Gospel. ( 40 ) When our beloved Bro. Dwight L. Moody, who named the Mission "PACIFIC GARDEN," said it was the "greatest on earth" — and in his ( 41 ) marvelous way would tell the Old — Old Story of "Jesus and His saving grace." Those * * were Halcyon days * * long to be remembered and while many of them have been called to that "invisible sphere" — to swell the Anthem of Praise to our Great Redeemer — "over there" — others have been raised up to fill the ranks in Immanuel's Brigade down here, winning new trophies for the Mas- ter all along the way, as we have been journeying on to meet them in that Celestial City — where The-re-ll b-ee no par-r-ting there The-re-11 b-ee no parting there ; In Heaven above — where all is love — Th-e-re-11 b-ee no par-r-ting there. ( 42 ) A VOLUME might be written here — where thou- sands upon thousands of expe- riences will live green in memory, as long as Eternity lasts. It would require a Graphic pen to enumerate all the incidents, events and marvelous conversions that have taken place during the past. I am not equal to the task — so will only answer a few questions that have been so often asked — insert a few items that are still fresh in my mind — and then include a few auto- biographies of some of the oldest converts — whose lives have been before the world and would be a bet- ter commentator than any human exposition could give. ( 43 ) Do You Ever Get Discouraged? Has been the question often asked. That word was never in our vo- cabulary. In the early history of the Mission railroad accommodations were very scarce. A Dummy train morning and evening, with a mid- night train on the main line (con- veying us some distance from our home was all that was accessible.) On this occasion had been tramp- ing in the rain and slush all day, tak- ing our late train as usual, at the midnight hour, obliged then to walk nearly two miles from the train to our home, in a terrific storm, facing a heavy sleeting hail and rain ( 44 ) all the way — when about entering the house found his satanic majesty on hand, and with a slight reminder on the shoulder, and with a modest voice said, "Does it pay?" "YES," I very emphatically re- plied, "I'd walk ten miles — or all night — if I could be the means of winning a soul." That insinuation never accosted us again. Disappointments have been many But discouragement NEVER. ( 45 ) A Demonstrated Fact When finances were not a plenty — but demands for lodgings very great — all had been disposed of on the occasion, then discussions arose about the propriety (under the circumstances) of the benevolence; but no arbitrator was needed the next morning to decide the question, when we beheld our home garden nearly covered with mushrooms (a little in advance of the season) and when they were gathered and pre- pared for market, sold for a suffi- cient income to replace the expendi- tures of the previous night. No mushrooms were ever seen there before — Nor any since. ( 46 ) Saved by a Kiss Saved by a kiss, was the contents of a letter received in 1906. I im- mediately wrote for an explanation — reply as follows: McCrory, Ark., Jan. 8, 1906. Dear Mrs. Clarke: / am the girl referred to. I lived in the South, my mother had a large family. I had a stepfather and we did not agree very well, so I went North. While in Chicago I got a nail in my foot and had to go to the County Hospital. Workers called on me, but made little impression. I was a mischevious girl, so one day I said, "Now I'll just watch THAT worker and see if her religion is broad enough to cover that Street girl" (just a few cots from me). She talked with her — then ( 47 ) prayed with her there — giving her some tracts and before she went away, LO ! — and — behold, she stooped down and "KISSED" her. "That's what opened the door of my heart." There, now, I said, if that woman could KISS that Magdalene, all covered with SIN, that's the kind of religion I want — and sure enough, I got it. (Signed) Minnie Proulx. A long letter followed, and subse- quent letters proved she had mar- ried, returned to the South, and had been an Evangel of Mercy to other young girls, gathering them in Sun- day School and was a blessing to all who knew her. < 48 ) Nothing Ever Done in Vain for the Lord A man passing out of the Mission too delirious to be reasoned with — a Testament was slipped in the in- side of his coat pocket and lodged by the side of his whiskey flask. Next morning he found his flask broken and a Testament in its place. On the fly-leaf was written, "From one who is praying for you." This reminded him of his sainted mother who had for years been praying for him, and the memory was too sacred to be forgotten. After considering it for days he finally yielded to his conviction and came back to the Mission to thank us for the Testa- ment. ( 49 ) Another Instance A man passing by the Mission had a curiosity to see what was going on inside. The windows being too frosty to see through he climbed up the gas pole in front of the mission and looking over the door, under the transom, he saw in the front end this text of scripture painted on the wall : "The Son of Man came to seek and save them that are lost." The object had been accomplished. This passage of scripture had its mission for him. It was written so indelibly on his mind that he had no peace of mind nor rest until he was willing to accept of the conditions, and finally became a Christian, which he after- ward gave his testimony to in the Mission. ( 50) A Remarkable Conversion in Prison One very warm, sultry Sunday afternoon, Aug. 7, 1880, some would have said, "What is the use of going to the jail such a hot day as this?" — but in cell 79 there stood one of the most forlorn, discouraged, broken- hearted specimens of humanity eyes ever looked upon. It seemed the very blackness of darkness loomed up before him. He needed no intro- duction, but relief. When told no one but God could help him — how soon he was found on bended knees seeking Divine aid. After a season of prayer, if you could have seen how the darkness ( 51 ) faded into light, the deliverance of Satan's thrall into freedom and lib- erty, you would have said "How marvelous!! How wonderful!!" Unconsciously, when rising to his feet, he turned for his tobacco; then said, "No ! !" I must never touch this weed again." Thanksgiving and praise was then the expression of his heart. A Divine halo seemed to illuminate the very atmosphere sur- rounding him. This man developed into a mar- velous Christian character. Loyalty, — Love — and Devotion seemed to be the dominant Christian graces controlling his life. For 24 years he occupied high positions of honor in Christian service, leaving a name ( 52 ) and influence on record that time can never efface. On June 12, 1912, he was called to the "higher sphere" to be forever with his blessed Redeemer, whom he learned to worship so devoutly on earth. ( 53 ) Autobiographies Rev. Wm. A. Sunday, Famous Ex-Baseball Player Fifteen years ago one Sunday night I walked down State street, Chicago, in com- ( 54) party with several baseball players, whose names were world-renowned, some of whom are now dead. We entered a saloon, drank, and passed on to the corner of State and VanBuren, where Siegel & Cooper's store now stands. There was a company of men and women singing. We sat on the curbstone and listened. I had heard those songs from mother back in Iowa, in the Methodist Sunday School in Ames, Iowa, and God painted on the can- vas of my memory the scenes and recol- lections of other days and faces. I bowed my head in shame and the tears rolled down my cheeks like rivers of water. When the song was ended, "Where is my wandering boy to-night," the leader, Col. Clarke of Pacific Garden Mission, said, "Come, boys, down to the Mission and listen to the speaking and singing." I arose and said, "Boys, good-by, I'm done with this way of living," and went to the ( 55 ) Mission ; went every night for two weeks. One night Mrs. Col. Clarke invited me forward to the altar. I went and pro fessed faith in Christ. I did not join a church immediately and there made my first great mistake. I af- terwards went to the Y. M. C. A. and met L. W. Messer, general secretary, who urged me to join a church. One night I entered Jefferson Park Presbyterian church, Chicago, and presented myself for membership and was accepted, in which church today I have the honor of being an elder. At the time I made my profession to live a Christian I was a member of the Chi- cago National League baseball club. I had an agreement with Arlie Latham of the St. Louis Browns to run a foot-race on Sunday in St. Louis at the close of the season for the championship of the base- ball profession in the United States. I ( 56 ) tried to get out of it, but could not, so went, ran on Sunday and won the race (I, a church member). I was ordered before the session, where I publicly expressed my sorrow for this sin ; but never since have I given occasion for rebuke. The next morning after joining the church an article appeared in each of the Chicago papers about it, so all the mem- bers of the ball club knew of it. I dreaded to report for practice that day for fear of the ridicule and cynical reception the boys would give me. I would rather have faced a six-shooter, but I went and the first man to meet me was Mike Kelly. With a heart as tender as a woman's (he is dead now) he took me by the hand and said : "That's a grand thing to do, 'Bill.' If I can help you let me know." Then Cap. Anson, Ed. Williamson, Fred ( 57 ) Pfeffer, Frank Flint, Jno. Clarkson, Tom Burns and Dalrymple all gave me words of encouragement, so my fears were un- founded. If they forgot and swore in my presence they would immediately ask my pardon. That afternoon we played Detroit. The score was close. The last half of the ninth inning was being played. Two men were out, man on second, one on third. Charley Bennett was at bat. He had two strikes and three balls called on him. I was play- ing right field. Charley hit the last ball a terrific blow. It started for the club-house. I turned and ran with the ball. Benches had been placed in the field for spectators, and as I saw the ball was going over the crowd I called "get out of the way." The crowd opened. I offered up a prayer and said, "Lord, if You ever helped mortal man, help me get that ball." I leaped the bench, looked over my shoulder, threw out my ( 58 ) hand and the ball struck and stuck. The game was ours. I am sure the Lord helped me catch that ball. This deduction may not be accord- ing to theology, but it's according to expe- rience. Al. Johnson, brother of Tom, the present mayor of Cleveland, Ohio, ran up and handed me $10, and said, "Buy a new hat. That catch won me $1,500." During the winter months I attended Northwestern University at Evanston, where I picked up some Methodist enthus- iasm and vim to counteract the stiff, staid Presbyterianism. A few years later I left the baseball profession, accepted the posi- tion of assistant secretary of the Chicago Y. M. C. A., where I remained three years. When I resigned it was to travel with Rev. J. Wilbur Chapman, D.D., then engaged in evangelistic work. I was associated with him for two years, until he left the evange- listic field and returned to the pastorate. J ( 59 ) i then started out for myself, and during those six years I have never wanted for a place to go to preach the gospel. God has opened hundreds of places to which I did not have the time to go. All I am today as an evangelist I owe to Dr. Chapman and to Prof. R. R. Lloyd, of Oakland Theo- logical Seminary, with whom I studied privately. Chicago, 111., September, 1902. v 60 ) Rev. Melvin E. Trotter, Sup't City Rescue Mission, Grand Rapids, Mich. The Pacific Garden Mission means everything to me. I consider the brightest spot in all Chicago is at 100 East Van Buren street. Every time I go to Chicago ( 61 ) ■ ■ the first place I start for is the old Mission and find the spot at the altar where five years ago last January, on the 19th day, Jesus spoke peace to my soul, and if I had the power to tell what a great change has come into my life since that time it would read more like fiction than truth. I was without home and friends, bound hand and foot by the awful curse of in- temperance; whiskey had been my God for years. I had tried as few men have tried to get away from it. Resolution after resolution failed; promise after promise was broken. One time when in deep trouble, death in the home, I prom- ised my good wife that whiskey should never pass my lips again, but within three hours this solemn pledge was broken. Struggle as I would I kept getting lower and lower, until at last I gave up in de- spair, left my old home in trouble, leaving C 02 ) J behind wife and all that was dear to me, and went into the gutter. The darkest night of all my life I went into the Pacific Garden Mission and there heard the precious story of love ; heard that Jesus loved the drunkard. When the invitation was given I raised my hand for prayer and Jesus was pointed out to me by Harry Monroe as a living Savior, and - the light of God shone in my soul, and I had a glimpse of Jesus. I have never lost that vision, and today He is precious to me and grows more precious every day. I have been self-supporting from that moment, never costing a man one penny. I went to work the next morning, and have been working hard ever since that I might have to give to those who are in need. Three years ago the Lord called me out of business, in which I was very successful, to go into His work. He has wonderfully blessed me and prospered me ( 63 )• here, and I have been able by His precious love and grace to point thousands of lost souls to Him. We preach that Jesus died for all, and we are not afraid to take the worst pos- sible case of sin and drunkenness to Him and expect immediate results, for when He comes in whiskey goes out. II Cor. 5:17. May the old Mission live until Jesus comes, when the Lord shall gather all around His throne. ( 64 ) A Marvelous Transformation "After a criminal life for more than 40 years, having served time in different penitentiaries for burglary and as a noto- rious safe blower, I landed in Chicago, went down to the Central station to see if THE OLD DICK THE NEW DICK the police authorities would let me stay twenty-four hours and they denied me the privilege, so thinking of a friend I had in better days, I called on Mr. Melvin E. Stone and asked him if he would help me ( 65 ) I to get work, I was tired of a crooked life. He laughed at the idea of my working and said, 'Dick, you have been a crooked man too long.' I said, 'Mr. Stone, did I ever tell you a lie/ and he answered, 'No.' Then I said, 'Will you take my word as a man now? I want to go to work.' Just then Mr. H. H. Kohlsaat came into the room and took a seat by me, and Mr. Stone in- troduced me to him as his criminal friend, Dick Lane, and said, 'Mr. Kohlsaat, will you put Dick to work for me as I am going out of the city?' Mr. Kohlsaat replied 'yes.' I called on him the next day and with my promise to him I would be on the square, he put me to work and for the past eight years I have been in his employ and am now a trusted employe as the receiv- ing clerk for the Record-Herald. "After being in his employ about a week, I was passing by the Pacific Garden Mission, heard the singing and thought out of curiosity I would go in and see what was ( 66 ) . :. ., ■. /lii 'ili'U iOl'lV!.- ■'[■■■ •■-- '■"•■ ' ''■• ■■' ■':■■ • • ■" ■ .- going on. I had never been in such a place before. Had heard preaching in different penitentiaries, but the testimonies of men who had led a similar life impressed me, and when a nice looking man testified from the platform, I recognized him as a man that had served time with me at Jackson, Michigan, prison, and I knew he was on the square and must be telling the truth, so when the invitation for prayer was given, I raised my hand before I knew it, and was overpersuaded to go forward for prayer and when kneeling at the altar told the Lord 'if he would help me on to a better life, I would try to help myself,' and from that time the covenant has been mutually kept and here I am today, with renewed age, and God's blessing all these years has made me a happy and prosperous man." Dick Lane. The record of this remarkable life has been a marvel to the world, and is a living witness of the power of the gospel. ( 67 ) AT REST On March 20, 1913, our belover Brother, Richard Lane passed to his final rest. Of all the converts of Pacific Garden Mission perhaps none has ever stood more firmly and been more loyal to his. Master's cause, than our Brother Dick Lane. Considering the former years of his life and with the many testing to contend with, he always stood as a firm soldier for his Master and it could be well said, an honor to his profession, with an influence that made him a living miracle of God's grace. He fought a good fight and was vic- torious to the end. He is now resting from his labors and has merited the Master's applaudit, "Well done, faithful servant." ( 68 ) 1 'Sunshine Harris' ' "Praise the Lord! 212 weeks Friday night since I bowed at that altar, just to think, after 71 years of a sinful life, hav- ing sworn I would never bow my knee to prince, potentate or power. Infidel all my life, denying the existence of a God, ridi- ( 69 ) culing everything that was good, would never go near a church unless compelled to for a funeral, left home because I was such a disgrace to my family and became a wanderer on the face of the earth, not caring what became of me, defying the Almighty to destroy my existence, and nothing too low for me to do. After drinking for over 50 years, going down to the lowest depths, became such a slave to tobacco that I would pick up stubs in the street to satisfy the awful craving. In this condition I used to come in the Mis- sion where the dear Old Colonel would plead with me, so drunk and abusive, I wonder they did not put me out, and used to say I would never go in there again; but the next night would find me back in the same old place, till finally on the 4th of August, 1899, I went and bought me a Testament, not knowing why I did it, and the first thing my eyes fell upon was, 'thou J m fool, 'this night thy soul will be required of thee.' That made me mad — and I laid it down. Then I thought I would read it again, but could not find it so had to com- mence at the beginning and read until I did. Finally one night I said to God, T am going to the mission tonight and if you will help me, I will raise my hand for prayer. When the invitation was given I looked at one hand and it was so black and sinful, and then at the other and that was just as bad, so I raised both hands and was assisted by a Christian lady to the altar, and when I called upon the Lord he heard my cry, and the load of sin moun- tain high rolled off, and I rose to my feet and exclaimed, 'Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift, and for Pacific Garden Mission.' j "I went to my room that night, which was a regular curiosity shop, and such a house-cleaning as I had. Whisky, beer ( 71 ) J bottles, pipes, tobacco, cards, — all went out of the window, and now in their place is an open Bible. O praise the Lord, what a change." This dear brother's life has been so full of sunshine and so consistent, that it has been an inspiration to all who know him, and we pray that he may let his light shine brighter and brighter until the perfect day. ( 72 ) AT REST Sunshine Harris, in many respects the most wonderful trophy of God's grace in the history of the Mission, went to his re- ward June 10, 1907. He loved everybody and everybody loved him. The silver cord is broken, earth is poorer, Heaven enriched by the presence of our beloved brother. Loving hearts and willing hands made his last days happy and peace- ful. His was a victorious exit. As the end approached, his faith in God was an anchor to the soul, "both sure and steadfast." When asked what message he had to leave to his friends, he brightened up, and in his cheerful, optimistic manner said : "Tell them at the Mission I am going home to glory in the good, old-fashioned way." He was borne lovingly to his last resting place, beneath a cluster of evergreen trees, at Elburn, 111., at the home of his brother, and as we consigned him to Mother Earth we felt, indeed, we had laid to rest a sacred treasure. "We shall meet, but we shall miss him : There is now a vacant chair. He has gone to be with Jesus, In that land so bright and fair." ( 73 ) Mr. John Callahan, Sup't Hadley Rescue Hall, 293 Bowery, New York City ( 74 ) What a sad confession to make. From childhood up my career had been that of a criminal — when but a lad was arrest- ed in New York city, sent to reformatory, from which I made my escape, done time again, drifted to Chicago and fell in with the toughest gang on the West Side, which caused the Desplaines street police more trouble than perhaps any crook in that part of the city. It is the old story — "the way of the transgressor is hard." Was again arrest- ed, sent to the Cook county jail to await my trial. W^hile there Mrs. Clarke, in her visiting, came to my cell. I shall never forget that day. My cell-mate, Butch Lyon, jumped on the top bunk and gave me the laugh ; he would not allow this angel of mercy to talk to him, and a short time after was hung. Thank God I lis- tened to what this good woman had to say about Jesus, and there on my knees ( 75 ) prayed the best I knew how that God would have mercy upon me and save me. I was sent to Joliet, but the seed was sown that under more favorable circum- stances, resulted in taking a decided stand for Christ. I went to Minneapolis and one night went into a mission ; then and there made up my mind to give my life to Christ. I had formerly tended bar in that place and the police knew I was crooked and did not take any stock in my purpose to do right, but God was on my side, and after many persecutions and severe tests of faith, demonstrating to them a power had come in my life, for I engaged in honest employment and casting my lot with the people of God, began giving my . testi- mony in the jail, on the street and in the churches, and now, thank God, after sev- eral years of Christian work, have been honored with the position of superinten- dent of this Rescue Mission. ( 76 ) ■■■■■■■■■■■■ A Late Arrival Robert Atkinson A diamond in the rough, plucked from the scums of Chicago some 19 years ago, now a missionary in Japan, called by them, the natives, the "Muler of Japan." ( 77 ) N. B. — It will be observed there has been no eulogies given to any of the converts. So much exagera- tion is indulged in at the present time I dare not license my pen for any comments. ( 78 ) Retrospection Just one glimpse backward to the birthplace of the Old Missions, sends a thrill of thanksgiving for what God hath wrought all these years. As a pebble dropped in the ocean causes a ripple that never ceases to lose its momentum, so Pacific Gar- den Mission has set in motion influ- ences reaching to the end of the earth. It has been a fruitful vine of God's right hand planting, yielding pre- cious fruit for His Heavenly King- dom. ( 79 ) 3 loved the worlltl *isBis believe! h on f have ever la sUng {li/i-Zdb c i H -<■