[ return to India, in 1876, I was delighted to hear that this chosen and approved worker of the Master had decided to visit this country. She arrived in 1879, and after a short stay in Bombay, came over to the eastern side of the empire, and assisted us for some time in Calcutta. She also returned two years later, and again rendered us valuable assistance. The novelty of a colored woman from America, who had in her childhood been a slave, appearing before an audience in Cal- cutta, was sufficient to attract attention, but this alone would not account for the popularity which she enjoyed throughout her whole stay in our city. She was fiercely attacked by narrow minded persons in the daily papers, and elsewhere, but opposition only seemed to add to her power. During the seventeen years that I have lived in Calcutta, I have known many famous strangers to visit the city, some of ichom attracted large audiences, but I have never known anyone icho could draw and hold so large an audience as Mrs. Smith. She assisted me both in the church and in open-air meetings, and never failed to display the peculiar tact for which she is remarkable. I shall never forget one meeting which we were holding in an ^ Intuoiu'ction. vir. open square, in the very heart of the city. It was at a time of no little t-'xcitement, and some Christian preachers had been roujjhly handled in the same square a few evenings before. I had just spo'ien myself, when I noticed a great crowd of men and boys, who had succeeded in breaking ui) a missionary's audience on the other side of the square, rushing towards us with loud cries and threatening gestures. If left to myself I should have tried to gain the box on which the speakers stood, in order to command the crowd, but at the critical moment, our good Sister Smith knelt on the grass and be- iran to pray. As the crowd rushed up to the spot, and saw her with her beaming face upturned to the evening sky, pouring out her soul in prayer, they became perfectly still, and stood as if transfixed to the spot! Not even a whisper disturbed the solemn silence, and when she had finished we had as orderly a meeting as if we had been within the four walls of a church! In those days a well known theatrical manager, much given to popular buffoonery, wrote to me inviting me to arrange to have Mrs. Smith preach in his theatre on a certain Sunday evening. I was much surprised on receiving the letter, and taking it to her told her I did not know what it meant. Several friends, who chanced to be present, at once began to dissuade her: "Do not go. Sister Amanda," said several, speaking at once, "the man merely wishes to have a good opportunity of seeing you, so that he can take you off in his theatre. lie has no good purpose in view. Do not trust yourself to him under ;iny circum- stances." After a moment's hesitation Mrs. Smith replied in language which I shall never forget: " I am forbidden," she said, " to judge any man. You would not wish me to judge you, and would think it wrong: if any of us should judge a brother or sister in the church. What right have I to judge this man? I have no more right to judge him than if he were a Christian." She said she would pray over it and give her decision. Sh-- did so, and decided to accept the invitation. When Sunday evening came the theatre was packed like a herring box, while hundreds were unable to gain admission. I took charge of the meeting, and after singing and prayer intro- duced our strange friend from America. vin. Introduction. She spoke simply and pointedly, alluding to the kindness of the manager who had opened the doors of his theatre to her, in very courteous terms, and evidently made a deep and favorable impression upon the audience. There was no laughing, and no attempt was ever made subsequently to ridicule her. As she was walking off the stage the manager said to me; "If j'ou want the theatre for her again do not fail to let me know. I would do anything for that inspired woman." During Mrs. Smith's stay in Calcutta she had opportunities for seeing a good deal of the native community. Here, again, 1 was struck with her extraordinary power of discernment. We have in Calcutta a class of reformed Hindus called Brahmos. They are, as a class, a very worthy body of men, and lat that time were led by the distinguished KeshubChunder Sen. Ever}' distinguished visitor who comes to Calcutta is sure to seek the acquaintance of some of these Brahmos, and to study, more or less, the reformed sj'Stem which they profess and teach. 1 have often wondered that so few, even of our ablest visitors, seem able to comprehend the real character either of the men or of their nev/ system. Mrs. Smith very quickly found access to some of them, and beyond any other stranger whom I have ever known to visit Calcutta, she formed a wonderfully accurate estimate of the character, both of the men and of their religious teaching. She saw almost at a glance all that was strange and all that was iceak in the men and in their system. This penetrating power of discernment which she possesses in so large a degree impressed me more and more the longer I knew her. Profound scholars and religious teachers of philosophical bent seemed positively inferior to her in the task of discovering the practical value of men and systems which had attracted the attention of the world! I have already spoken of her clearness of perception and power of stating the undimmed truth of the Gospel of Christ. Through association with her, I learned many valuable lessons from her lips, and once before an American audience, when Dr. W. F. Warren was exhorting young preachers to be willing to learn from their own hearers, even though many of the hearers might be comparatively illiterate, I ventured to second his exhortation by telling the audience that I hud learned more that had been of iNTKODiniON. IX. actual value to me as a preacher of Christian truth from Amanda Smith than from any other one person 1 had ever met. Throughout Mrs. Smith's stay in India she was always cheerful and hopeful. In this respect, too, she ditfered from most visitors to our great empire. Some adopt gloomy views as they look at the weakness of Christianity, and observe the stupendous fortifica- tions which have been reared by the followers of the various false religions of the people. Some even yield to desr)air, and refuse to believe that India ever can be saved or even benefited, while only a very few are able to believe not only that India will yet become a Christian empire, but that Christ will yet lift up the people of this land, and so rev- olutionize or transform society as it exists to-day, as to make the people practically a new people. Our good Sister Amanda Smith never belonged to any of these despondent classes. She sometimes was touched by the pictures of misery which she saw around her, but never became hopeless. She was of cheer- ful temperament, it is true, but aside from personal feeling, she always possessed a buoyant hope and an overcoming faith, which made it easy for her to believe that the Saviour, whom she loved and served, really intended to save and transform India. Soon after Mrs. Smith's visit to India, another Virginian vis- ited Calcutta on his way around the globe This was Mr. Moncure D. Conway. These two persons, Mrs. Smith and Mr. Conway, were repre- sentative Virginians. They had been born in the same section of the country, brought up as Methodists, and were thoroughly ac- quainted, one by observation and the other by experience, with the terrible character of the American slave system. Mr. Conway in early life was for several years a Methodist preacher, but by his own published confession he never compre- hended what the true spirit of Methodism was. He was at one time a well known and somewhat popular Unitarian minister, but finding the Unitarians too narrow and orthodox for a man of his liberal mind, he set up an independent church or organization uf some kind, in London, and preached to an obscure little congrega- tion for a number of years, until his last experiment ended in con- fessed failure. His recorded impressions received in India were of the most X. INTRODUCTION gloomy kind. He saw nothing to hope for in the condition of the peopU', and looked at them in their helpless state with blank be- wilderment, if not despair. He passed through the empire with- out leaving a single trace of light behind him, without making an impression for good upon any heart or life, without finding an open door by which to make any man or woman happier or better, without, in short, seeing even a single ray of hope shining upon what he regarded as a dark and benighted land. Mrs. Smith, the other Virginian, without a tittle of Mr. Con way's learning, and deprived of nearly every advantage which he had enjoyed, not only retained the faith of her childhood, but ma- tured and developed it until it attained a standard of purity and strength rarely witnessed in our world. She also came to India, but unlike the other Virginian, she cherished hope where he felt only despair, she saw light where he perceived only darkness, she found opportunit es everywhere for doing good which wholly escaped his observation, and during her two years' staj' in the country where she went, she traced out a pathway of light in the midst of the darkness! As she left the country she could look back upon a hundred homes which were brighter and better because of her coming, upon hundreds of hearts whose burdens had been lightened and whose sorrows had been sweetened by reason of her public and private ministry. She is gratefully rememhered to this day by thousands in the land. Her life affords a striking comment at once upon the value of the New Testament to those who receive it, both in letter and in spirit, and upon the hopelessness of the Gospel of unbelief which obtains so wide a hearing at the present day. A thousand Virginians of the Conway stripe might come and go for a thousand years without making India any better, but a thousand Amanda Smiths would suffice to revolutionize an empire! I am very glad to learn that Mrs. Smith has at last been in- duced to yield to the importunities of friends and prepare a sketch of her eventful life. I trust that the story will be told without reserve in all its simplicity, as well as in all its strength, and I doubt not that God will crown this last of her many labors with abundant blessings. J. M. Thoburn. Calcutta, October 22, 1891. CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER 1 17 BIRTH, PARENTAGE AND DELIVERANCE FROM SLAVERY THROUGH THE CONVERSION OF MY MOTHER'S YOUNG MISTRESS — MY PIOUS GRANDMOTHER. CHAPTER II. 24 REMOTAL TO PENNSYLVANIA — GOING TO SCHOOL — FIRST RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES — PERNICIOUS READING. CHAPTER III. .... SOME OF THE REMEMBRANCES OF MY GIRLHOOD DAYS — HELPING RUNAWAYS — MY MOTHER AROUSED — A NARROW ESCAPE — A TOUCHING STORY. C H A P T E R I V. 39 MOVING FROM LOWE's FARM— MARRIAGE— CONVERSION. CHAPTER V. .50 HOW I BOUGHT MY SISTER PRANCES AND HOW THE LORD PAID THE DEBT. CHAPTER VI. . . .57 MARRIAGE AND DISAPPOINTED HOPES — RETURN TO PHILADELPHIA — A STRANGER IN NEW YORK — MOTHER JONES' HELP — DEATH OF xMV FATHER. CHAPTER VII. 7:i THE BLESSING — ABOUT SEEKING SANCTIFICATION BY WORKS. XII. Contents. PAGE CHAPTER ^VIII. ..... 92 MY FIRST TEMPTATION, AND OTHER EXPERIENCES — I GO TO NEW UTRECHT TO SEE MY HUSBAND — A LITTLE EXPERIENCE AT BEDFORD STREET CHURCH, NEW YORK — FAITH HEALING. CHAPTER IX. .... . 103 VARIOUS EXPERIENCES — HIS PRESENCE — OBEDIENCE — MY TEMPTATION TO LEAVE THE CHURCH — WHAT PEOPLE THINK — SATISFIED. CHAPTER X 131 "THY WILL BE DONE," AND HOW THE SPIRIT TAUGHT ME ITS MEANING, ALSO THAT OF SOME OTHER PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE — MY DAUGHTER MAZIE'S CONVERSION. CHAPTER XI 132 MY CALL TO GO OUT — AN ATTACK FROM SATAN — HIS SNARE BROKEN — MY PERPLEXITY IN REGARD TO THE TRINITY — MANIFESTATION OF JESUS — WAS IT A DREAM? CHAPTER XII. . .147 MY LAST CALL — HOW I OBEYED IT, AND WHAT WAS THE RESULT. CHAPTER XIII. . . . .164 MY REMEMBRANCES OF CAMP MEETING — SECOND CAMP MEETING — SINGING — OBEDIENCE IS BETTER THAN SACRIFICE. CHAPTER XIV. .176 KENNEBUNK CAMP MEETING — HOW I GOT THERE, AND WAS ENTERTAINED — A GAZING STOCK — HAMIL- TON CAMP MEETING — A TRIP TO VERMONT — THE LOST TRUNK, AND HOW IT WAS FOUND. CHAPTER XV. . ... 193 MY EXPERIENCE AT DR. TAYLOR'S CHURCH, NEW YORK, AND ELSEWHERE — THE GENERAL CONFERENCE AT NASHVILLE — HOW I WAS TREATED AND HOW IT ALL CAME OUT — HOW THINGS CHANGE. Contents. xiii. PAGE C H A P T K II X\\. 205 HOW I COT TO KNOW 1 1-1. K, TKNN., TO TlIK NATIONAL CAMP MEETING, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. CHAPTER XVII 315 SEA CLIFF CAMP MEETING, .lULY, 1872 — FIRST THOUGHTS OF AFRICA— MAZIE's EDUCATION AND MARRIAGE — MY EXPERIENCE AT YARMOUTH CHAPTER X.VIII 225 PITTMAN CHURCH, PHILADELPHIA — HOW I BECAME THE OWNER OF A HOUSE, AND WHAT BECAME OF IT — THE MAYFLOWER MISSION, BROOKLYN — AT DR. CUYLER's. CHAPTER XIX 240 BROOKLYN — CALL TO GO TO ENGLAND — BALTIMORE — VOYAGE OVER. CHAPTER XX. .255 LIME STREET STATION, LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND, AND THE RECEPTION I MET WITH THERE — PAGES FROM MY DIARY. CHAPTER XXI 266 VISIT TO SCOTLAND, LONDON, AND OTHER PLACES — CONVERSATION WITH A CURATE — GREAT MEET- ING AT PERTH — HOW I CAME TO GO TO INDIA. CHAPTER XXII. ... 286 IN PARIS— ON THE WAY TO INDIA — FLORENCE — ROME — NAPLES — EGYPT. CHAPTER XXIII 300 INDIA — NOTES FROM MY DIARY — BASSIM — A BLESSING AT FAMILY PRAYER — NAINI TAL — TERRIBLE FLOODS AND DESTRUCTION OF LIFE. CHAPTER XXIV. .317 THE GREAT MEETING AT BANGALORE — THE ORPHANAGE AT COLAR — BURMAH — CALCUTTA — ENGLAND. xrv. Contents. PAGE CHAPTER XXY. . . . .331 AFRICA — INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE — MONROVIA — FIRST FOURTH OF JULY THERE — A SCHOOL FOR BOYS — CAPE PALMAS — BASSA — TEMPERANCE WORK — THOMAS ANDERSON CHAPTER XXVI 346 FORTSVILLE — TEMPERANCE MEETINGS — EVIL CUSTOMS — THOMAS BROWN — BALAAM — JOTTINGS FROM THE JUNK RIVER — BROTHER HARRIS IS SANC- TIFIED. CHAPTER XXVII 362 CONFERENCE AT MONROVIA — ENTERTAINING THE BISHOP — SIERRA LEONE — GRAND CANARY — A STRANGE DREAM — CONFERENCE AT BASSA — BISHOP TAYLOR. CHAPTER XXVIII. .378 OLD CALABAR — VICTORIA'S JUBILEE — CAPE MOUNT — CLAY- ASHLAND HOLINESS ASSOCIATION — RELIG- ION OF AFRICA — TRIAL FOR WITCHCRAFT — THE WOMEN OF AFRICA. CHAPTER XXIX 393 HOW I CAME TO TAKE LITTLE BOB — TEACHING HIM TO READ — HIS CONVERSION — SOME OP HIS TRIALS, AND HOW HE MET THEM — BOB GOES TO SCHOOL. C H A P T E R X X X . . . .406 NATIVE BABIES — VISIT TO CREEKTOWN — NATIVE SUPERSTITIONS — PRODUCTS OF AFRICA — DISAP- POINTED EMIGRANTS. CHAPTER XXXI 418 LIBERIA — BUILDINGS — THE RAINY SEASON — SIERRA LEONE — ITS PEOPLE — SCHOOLS — WHITE MIS- SIONARIES — COMMON SENSE NEEDED — BROTHER JOHNSON'S EXPERIENCE — HOW WE GET ON IN AFRICA. Contents. xv. PAGE J II A I^ T K 11 X X X I I 431 CAPE TALMAS — HOW I (JOT TllEKE — BRQTnEK WARE — BKOTllEU SHAIU'KU'S EXPEUIENCE — A CJKEAT REVIVAL. UHAPTEIl XXXUI 451 EMIGRATION TO LIBERIA — SCHOOLS OF LIBERIA — MIS- SION SCHOOLS — FALSE IMPRESSIONS — IGNOR- ANCE AND HELPLESSNESS OF EMIGRANTS - AFRICAN ARISTOCRACY. CHAPTER XXXIV. 466 LETTERS AND TESTIMONIALS — BISHOP TAYLOR — CHURCH AT MONROVIA— UPPER CALDWELL — SIERRA LEONE — GREENVILLE -CAPE PALMAS — BAND OF HOPE TEMPERANCE SOCIETY AT MON- ROVIA—LETTERS—MRS. PAYNE — MRS. DENMAN — MRS. INSKIP — REV. EDGAR M. LEVY — ANNIE WITTENMYER — DR. DORCHESTER — MARGARET BOTTOME — MISS WILLARD — LADY HENRY SOM- ERSET. CHAPTER XXXV 486 RETURN TO LIVERPOOL — FAITH HEALING — BISHOP TAYLOR LEAVES AGAIN FOR AFRICA — USE OF MEANS — THE STORY OF MY BONNET — TOKENS OF god's HELP AFTER MY RETURN FROM AFRICA. CHAPTER XXXVI. .... 498 WORK IN ENGLAND — IN LIVERPOOL, LONDON, MAN- CHESTER, AND VARIOUS OTHER PLACES— I GO TO SCOTLAND AND IRELAND — SECURE PASSAGE TO NEW YORK — INCIDENTS OF THE VOYAGE — HOME AGAIN — CONCLUDING WORDS. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Mrs. Amanda Smith, .... Mr. Samuel Berry, Father of x\manda Smith, Mazie D. Smith, Market Place, Bombay, . Preparing a Meal, Bombay, . Hill Men, Naini Tal, NiANi Tal, Before the Land Slide, Native Christian Family, India, Cooper's Wharf, Monrovia, . The Paine Family, Ashman Street, Monrovia, . My First Sunday School, Plukie, Home of President Johnson, Native Soldiers, Liberia, Home of Late President Roberts, Kate Roach, Sierre Leone, On the St. Paul River, General Sherman's House, Monrovia, Frances, Native Bassa Girl, Bob, ...... Baptist Mission Station, Boys of Mission School, . Mission School, Rotifunk, Cape Palmas, .... Bishop Taylor Holding a Palaver, The Receptacle for Emigrants, Liberia, page Frontispiece. 62 . 121 300 . 304 310 . 314 324 . 332 330 .- 338 348 . 352 356 . 364 368 . 372 380 . 390 396 . 420 422 . 424 432 . 456 460 (XVI.) AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AMANDA SMITH CHAPTER I. BIRTH, PARENTAGE AND DELIVERANCE FROM SLAVERY THROUGH THE CONVERSION OF MY MOTHER'S YOUNG MISTRESS — MY PIOUS GRANDMOTHER. I was born at Long Green, Md., Jan. 23rd, 1837. My father's name was Samuel Berry. My mother's name, Mariam. Matthews was her maiden name. My father's master's name was Darby Insor. My mother's master's name, Shadrach Green. They lived on adjoining farms. They did not own as large a number of black people, as some who lived in the neighborhood. My father and mother had each a good master and mistress, as was said.. After my father's master died, his young master, Mr. E., and himself, had all the charge of the place. They had been boys together, but as father was the older of the two, and was a trustworthy serv- ant, his mistress depend(»d on him, and much was entrusted to his care. As the distance to Baltimore was only about twenty miles, more or less, my father went there with the farm produce once or twice a week, and would sell or buy, and bring the money home to his mistress. She was very kind, and was proud of him for his faithfulness, so she gave him a chance to buy himself. She (17) 18 Autobiography of allowrd him so much for his work and a chance- to make what oxtra he could for himself. So he used to make brooms and husk mats and take them to market with the produce. This work he would do nights after his day's work was done for his mistress. He was a great lime burner. Then in harvest time, after working for his mistress all day, he would walk three and four miles, and work in the harvest field till one and two o'clock in the morning, then go home and lie down and sleep for an hour or two, then up and at it again. He had an important and definite object before him, and was willing to sacri- fice sleep and rest in order to accomplish it. It was not his own liberty alone, but the freedom of his wife and five children. For this he toiled day and night. He was a strong man, with an excellent constitution, and God wonderfully helped him in his struggle. After he had finished paying for himself, the next was to buy my mother and us children. There were thirteen children in all, of whom only three girls are now living. Five were born in slavery. I was the oldest girl, and my brother, William Talbart, the oldest boy. He was named after a gentleman named Talbart Gossage, who was well known all through that part of the country. I think he was some relation of Mr. Ned Gossage, who lost his life at Carlisle, Pa., some time before the war, in trying to capture two of his black boys who had run away for their freedom. I remem- ber distinctly the great excitement at the time. The law then was that a master could take his slave anywhere he caught him. These boys had been gone for a year or more, and were in Carlisle when he heard of their whereabouts. He determined to go after them. So he took with him the constable and one or two others. Many of his friends did not want him to go, but he would not hear them. I used to think how strange it was, he being a professed Christian, and a class leader in the Methodist Church, and at the time a leader of the colored people's class, that he should be so blinded by selfishness and greed that he should risk his own life to put into slavery again those who sought only for freedom. .^How selfishness, when allowed to rule us, will drive us on, and make us act in spirit like the great enemy of our soul, who ever seeks to recapture those who have escaped from the bondage of sin.j How we need to watch and pray, and on our God rely. , He did not capture the boys, but in the struggle he lost his own life, and was brought home dead. Amanda Smith. 19 But I turn ajjrain to my story. As 1 have said, my fatln-r hav- ing paid for himself was anxious to purchase his wife and children; and to show how the Lord helix'd in this, I must here tell of tin- wonderful conversion of my mother's young mistress and of her subsequent dfath. and the marvelous answer to my grandmother's prayers. There was a Methodist Camp Meeting held at what was at that time called Cockey'sCamp dround. It was, I think, about twenty miles away, and the young mistress, with a number of other young pfoplr. went to this meeting. My mother went along to assist and wait on Miss Celie, as she had always done. It was an old-fash- ioned, n'd-hot Camp Meeting. These young jx^ople went just as a kind of picnic, and to have a good time looking on. They were staunch Presbyterians, and had no affinity with anything of that kind. They went more out of curiosity, to see the Methodists shout and hollow, than anything else; because they did shout and hollow in those days, tremendously. Of course they were respect- ful. They went in to the morning meeting and sat down quietly to hear the sermon; then they purposed walking about the other part of the day, looking around, and having a pleasant time. As they sat in the congregation, the minister preached in demonstra- tion of the Power and of the Holy Ghost. My mother said it was a wonderful time. The spirit of the Lord got hold of my young mistress, and she was mightily convicted and converted right there before she left the ground; wonderfully converted in the old- fashioned way: the shouting, hallelujah way. Of course it dis- gusted those who were with her. They were terribly put out. Everything was spoiled, and they did not know how to get her home. They coaxed her, but thank th«' Lord, she got struck through. Then they laughed at lur a littlr. Then they scolded her, and ridiculed her; but they could not do anything with her. Then they begged her to be quiet; told her if she would just be quiet, and wait till they got home, and wait till morning, they would be satisfied. My mother was awfully glad that the Lord had answered her and grandmother's prayer. As I have heard my mother tell this story she has wept as though it had just been a few days ago. Mother had only been converted about two years before this, and had always prayed for Miss Celie, so her heart was bounding with gladness when Miss Celie was converted. But of course she must hold on and keep as quiet as possible: they had 20 Autobiography of enough to contend with, with Miss Celie. Mother said she sat in the back part of the carriage and prayed all the time. After coaxing her awhile she said she would try and keep quiet, and wait till morning. But when she got home she could not keep quiet, but began first thing to praise -the Lord and shout. It aroused the whole house, and of course they were frightened, and thought she had lost her mind. But nay, verily, she had received the King, and there was great joy in the city. They got up and wondered what was the matter. They thought she was dreadfully excited at this meeting. They did all they could to quiet her. but they could not do much with her. But finally they did get her quiet and she went to bed. But her heart was so stirred and filled. She wanted to go then to where they would have lively meetings. She wanted to go to the Methodist church. Oh my! That was intolerable. They could not allow that. Then she wanted to go to the colored people's church. No, they would not have that. So they kept her from going. Then they separated my mother and her. They thought maybe mother might talk to her, and keep up the excitement. So they never let them be together at all, if possible. About a quarter of a mile away was the great dairy, and Miss Celie used to slip over there when she got a chance and have a good time praying with mother and grandmother. Finally they found they could do nothing with Miss Celie. So the young people decided they would get together and have a ball and get the notion out of her head. So they planned for a ball, and got all ready. The gentlemen would call on Miss Celie; she was very much admired, anyhow; and they would talk, and they did every- thing they could. She did not seem to take to it. But finally she said to mother one day, ""Well, Mar}-, it's no use; they won't let me go to meeting anywhere I want to go, and I might as well give up and go to this ball." But my mother said. "Hold on, my dear, the Lord will deliver you." She used to put on her sunbonnet and slip down through the orchard and go down to the dairy and tell mother and grandmother; mother used to assist grandmother in the dairy. One day mother said she came down and said: "Oh! Mary, I can't hold out any longer; they insist on my going to that ball, and I have decided to go. It's no use." So they had a good cry together, went off and prayed, and that was the last prayer about the ball. How strange! And yet God had that all in his infinite mercy — opening the prison to them AtiANDA Smith. 21 that were bound. Just a week before the ball came otr, Miss C\'li.' was taken down with typhoid fever. They didn't think she was going to die when she was taken down, but they sent for the doc- tors, the best in the land. Four of them watched over her nighl and day. Everything was done for her that could hv donr. Sh»' always* wanted motlur with her, to sit up in the bed and hold her: she seemed only to rest comfortably thm. She soomcd to hav sinking spells. The skill of the doctors was baflled, and they said they could not do any more. So one day after one of these sinking spells, she called them all around her bed and said: "I want to speak to you. 1 have one request I want to make." They said, "Anything, my dear." "I want you to promise me that you will let Samuel have Mariam and the children." Then they had my mother get up out of the bed at once. Of course they didn't want her to hear that; and they said: "Now, my dear, if you will keep quiet, you may be a little better." And then she went off in a kind of sinking spdl. Wlun she said this, and they sent my mother out, she ran with all her might and told grandmother, and grandmother's faith saw the door open for the freedom of her grandchildren; and she ran out into the bush and told Jesus. Of course my mother had to hurry back so as not to b3 missed in the house. Miss Cdie went on that way for three days, and they would quiet her down. When the second day came, and she made the request, and th(»y sent my mother out, she ran and told grandmother that Miss Celie had madv the same request; then she ran back to the house again, and grand- mother \v^nt out and told Jesus. At last it came to the third and last day, and the doctor said: "She can only last such a length of time without there is a change: so what you do. you must do quickly." Mother was in the bed behind her, holding her up. She called them all again, and said, "I want you to make me one promise: that is, that you will let Samurl have Mariam and the children." "Oh: yes, my dear," they said, "we will do anything." My mother was a great singer. When Miss Celie got the promise, she folded her hands together, and leaning her head upon my mother's breast she said, "Now, Mary, sing." And as best she could, she did sing. It was hard work, for her heart was almost broken, for she loved her as' one of her owq 32 Autobiography op children. While she sang, Miss Celie's sweet spirit swept through the gate, washed in the blood of the lamb. Hallelujah! what a Saviour. How marvelous that God should lead in this mysterious way to accomplish this end. I often say to people that I have a right to shout more than some folks; I have been bought twice, and set free twice, and so I feel I have a good right to shout. Hallelujah! I was quite small when my father bought us, so know nothing about the experience of slavery, because I was too young to have any trials of it. How well I remember my old mistress. She dressed very much after the Friends' style. She was very kind to me, and I was a good deal spoiled, for a little darkey. If I wanted a piece of bread, and if it was not buttered and sugared on both sides, I wouldn't have it; and when mother would get out of patience with me, and go for a switch, I would run to my old mis- tress and wrap myself up in her apron, and I was safe. And oh! how I loved her for that. They were getting me ready for market, but I didn't know it. I suppose that is why they allowed me to do many things that otherwise I should not have been allowed to do. They used to take me in the carriage with them to church on Sunday. How well I remember my pretty little green satin hood, lined inside with pink. How delighted I was when they used to take me. Then the young ladies would often make pretty little things and give to my mother for me. Mother was a good seam- stress; she used to make all of our clothes, and all of father's every day clothes — coats, pants and vests. She had a wonderful faculty in this; she had but to see a thing of any style of dress or coat, or what-not, and she would come home and cut it out. People used to wonder at it. There were no Butterick's patterns then that she could get hold of. So one had to have a good head on them if they kept nearly in sight of things. But somehow mother was always equal to any emergency. My dear old mistress used to knit. I would follow her around. Sometimes she would walk out into the yard and sit under the trees, and I would drag the chair after her; I was too small to carry it. She would sit down awhile, and I would gather pretty flowers. When she got tired she would walk to another spot, and I would drag the chair again. So we would spend several hours in this way. My father had proposed buying us some time before, but could not be very urgent. He had to ask. and then wait a long interval before he could ask again. Amanda SMiTn. 23 Two of tho younf? ladies of onr family were to be marriftl, and as my brother and myself were the oldest of the children, one of us would have 2:one to one, and one to tlie other, as a dowry. Hut how (Jod moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform. My grandmotiier was a woman of deep piety and great faith. I have often heard my mother say that it was to the prayers and miirhty faith of my grandmother that we owed our freedom. How I do praise the Lord for a Godly grandmother, as well as mother. She had often i)rayed that God would open a way so that her grand- children might be free. The families into which these young ladies were to marry, were not considered by the black folks as good masters and mistresses as we had; and that was one of my grand- mother's an.xieties. And so she prayed and believed that somehoMf God would open a way for our deliverance. She had often triej and proved Him, and found Him to be a present help in trouble. And so in the way I have already related, the Lord did provide and my father was permitted to purchase our freedom. " In some way or other The Lord will provide; It may not be my way, It may not be thy way. And yet in His own way. The Lord will provide." CHAPTER II. REMOVAL TO PENNSYLVANIA — GOING TO SCHOOL — FIRST RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCES — PERNICIOUS READING. After my father had got us all free and settled, he wanted to go and see his brother, who had run away for his freedom several years before my father bought himself. The laws of Maryland at that time were, that if a free man went out of the state and stayed over ten days, he. lost his residence, and could be taken up and sold, unless some prominent white person interposed; and then some- times with difficulty they might get him off. But many times poor black men were kidnapped, and would be got out of the way quick. For men who did that sort of business generally looked out for good opportunities. My mother's people all lived in Mary- land. She hated to leave her mother, my dear grandmother, and so never would consent to go North. But when my father went away to see his brother, and stayed over the ten days, she thought best to go. Poor mother ! How well I remember her. After a week how anxious she was. She used to sit by the fire nearly all night. It was in the fall of the j-ear I know, but I am not able to tell just what year it was. After my father's death, my sister, not knowing the value of the free papers, allowed them all to be destroyed. We were all recorded in the Baltimore court house. Many times I had seen my father show the papers to people. They had a large red seal — the county seal — and my father, or any of us traveling, would have to show our free papers. But those I have not got, so cannot tell the year or date. But, by and by, the ninth day came. I saw my mother walk the floor, look out of the win- dow, and sigh. I used to get up out of my bed and sit in the corner by the fire and watch her, and see the great tears as she would wipe them away with her apron. She would say; "Amanda, why don't you stay in bed? " (24) Amanda Smuii. 25 1 woukl in:ikt' :m cxcust' to sl;iy willi her. SoincliiiK'S I would cry and say I was sick. Then she would call me to her and let nn' lay my luad in her hq) ; and there is no place on earth so sweet to a child as a mother's lap. I can almost feel the tender, warm, downy lap of my motlu-r now as I write, for so it seemed to me. I loved my father, and thought he was the grandest man that ever lived. I was always the favorite of my father, and I was sorry enough when he was away, and when I saw my mother cry, I would cry, too. Ten days had pa.sscd, and father had not come yet. Every day some of the good farmers around would call to see if "Sam " had got home yet. My father was much respected by all the best white i)eople in that neighborhood, and many of them would not have said anything to him ; but, "If nothing was said to Insor's Sam about going out of the state and staying over ten days, why all the niggers in the county would be doing the same thing! " So this was the cause of the inquiry. Oh! no one knows the sadness and agony of my poor mother's heart. Finally the day came when father returned. Then the friends; white and black, who wished him well, advised him to leave as quickly as possible. And now the breaking up. We were doing well, and father and mother had all the work they could do. The white people in the neighborhood were kind, and gave my mother a good many things, so that we children always had plenty to eat and wear. We had a house, a good large lot, and a good garden, pigs, chickens, and turkeys. And then my mother was a great economist. She could make a little go a great ways. She was a beautiful washer and ironer, and a better cook never lifted a pot. I get my ability in that (if I have any) from my dear mother. Then withal she was an earnest Christian, and had strong faith in God, as did also my grandmother. She was deeply pious, and a woman of marvelous faith and prayer. For the reason stated my parents determined to move from Maryland, and so went to live on a farm owned by John Lowe, and situated on the Baltimore and York turnpike in the State of Pennsylvania. My father and mother both could read. But I never remem- ber hearing them tell how they were taught. Father was the better reader of the two. Always on Sunday morning after break- fast he would call us children around and read the Bible to us. I 26 Autobiography of never kneW him to sit down to a meal, no matter how scant, but what he would ask God's blessing before eating. Mother was very thoughtful and scrupulously economical. She could get up the best dinner out of almost nothing of anybody I ever saw in my life. She often cheered my father's heart when he came home at night and said : " Well, mother, how have you got on to-day? " " Very well," she would say. It was hard planning sometimes; yet we children never had to go to bed hungry. After our even- ing meal, so often of nice milk and mush, she would call us chil- dren and make us all say our prayers before we went to bed. I never remember a time when I went to bed without saying the Lord's Prayer as it was taught me by my mother. Even before we were free I was taught to say my prayers. I first went to school at the age of eight years, to the daughter of an old Methodist minister named Henry Dull; my teacher's name was Isabel Dull. She taught a little private school opposite where my mother lived, in a private house belonging to Isaac Hendricks (Bishop Hendricks' grandfather). She was a great friend of my mother's, and Avas very pretty, and very kind to us children. She taught me my first spelling lesson. There was school onl}' in the summer time. I had about six weeks of it. I first taught myself to read by cutting out large letters from the newspapers my father would bring home. Then I would lay them on the window and ask mother to put them together for me to make words, so that I could read. I shall never forget how delighted I was when I first read: "The house, the tree, the dog, the cow." I thought I knew it all. I would call the other children about me and show them how I could read. I did not get to go to school any more till I was about thirteen years old. Then we had to go about five miles, my brother and myself. There were but few colored people in that part of the country at that time, to go to school (white school), only about five and they were not regular; but father and mother were so anxious for us to go that they urged us on, and I was anxious also. I shall never forget one cold winter morning. The sun was bright, the snow very deep, and it was bitterly cold. My brother did not go that day, but I wanted to go. Mother thought it was too cold; she was afraid I would freeze; but I told her I could go, and after a little discussion she told me I might go. She told me I could put on my brother's heavy boots. I had on a good thick pair of stock- Amanda Smith. 27 inps, a warm lins^'V-woolsey dress, and was well wrapped up. ()(T I start«>d lo my two and a half mile school house, — John Rule's school house on the Turnpike. The first half mile I got on i)retty well, a gcx)d deal up hill, but () how cold I began to get, and being so wrapped up I couldn't get on so well as I thought I could. I was near freezing to death. My first thought was to go back, but I was too plucky, I was afraid if I told mother she wouldn't let me go again, so I kept still and went. When I got to the school house door, I found I couldn't open it and couldn't speak, and a white boy came up and said, "Why don't you go in':"' Then I found I couldn't speak, as I tried and couldn't. He opened the door and I went in and some one came to me and took off my things and they worked with me, I can't tell how long, before I recovered from my stupor. There were a great many farmers' daughters, large girls, and boys, in the winter time, so that the school would be full, so that after coming two and a half miles, many a day 1 would get but one lesson, and that would be while the other schol- ars were taking down their dinner kettles and putting their wraps on. All the white children had to have their full lessons, and if time was left the colored children had a chance. I received in all about three months' schooling. At thirteen years of age I lived in Strausburg, sometimes it was called Shrewsbury, about thirteen miles from York, on the lialtimore and York turnpike. I lived with a Mrs. Latimer. She was a Southern lady, was born in Savannah, Georgia. She was a widow, with five children. It was a good place, Mrs. Latimer was very kind to me and I got on nicely. It was in the spring I went there to live, and sometime in the winter a great revival broke out and went on for weeks at the Allbright Church. I was deeply interested and impressed by the spirit of the meeting. It was an old-fashioned revival, scores were converted. No colored persons went u\) to be prayed for: there were but few anywhere in the neighborhood. One old man named Moses Rainbow, and his two sons, Samuel and James, were the only colored people that lived anywhere within three or four miles of the town. This meeting went on for four or five weeks. When it closed a series of meet- ings commenced at the Methodist Church. One of the members was Miss Mary Hloser. daughter or8on, must wait till the white ones were through, and I would get such a scolding when I got home, the children would all be so vexed with me, and Mrs. Latimer, and my troubles had begun. I prayed and thought it was my cross. I thought I will change my seat in the class, maybe that will help me, and sat in the first end of the pew, as the leader would always commence on the first end and go down. When I sat in the first end, then he would com- mence at the lower end and come up and leave me last. Then I sat between two, thinking he would lead the two above me and then lead me in turn, but he would lead the two and then jump across me and lead all the others and lead me last. I told my Amanda Smith. 29 father I got scolded for getting home so late and making the chil- dren late for school. Father said he would speak to Mr. Ludrick about it, but if he did, it made no change, and it came to where I must decide either to give up my class or my service place. We were a large family, and father and mother thought I must keep my situation, so I had to give up my class. It did not do me much good, anyhow, to be scolded every time I went, so I became careless and lost all the grace I had, if I really had any at all. I was light hearted and gay, but I always would say my prayers and read my Bible and good books and meant to get religion when I knew I could keep it. I wouldn't be a hypocrite, no, not I, so I went on, wrapped up in myself. Then I began to watch defects in professors, which is a poor business for any one. That is not the way to get near to God. I saw many things and heard many things said and done by professors that I would not do, I was much better than they were, so I went on in my own way for awhile. It has been years ago. While living at Black's hotel, in Columbia, I remember reading a book. I forget the title of it, but It was an argument between an infidel and a Christian minister. As I went on reading I became very much interested. "Oh," I thought to myself, " I know the Christian minister will win." It starts with the infidel asking a question. The minister's answer took two pages, while the question asked only took one page and a half. As they went on the minister gained three pages with his answer; and the infidel seemed to lose. And then it went on, and by and by the minister began to lose, and the infidel gained. So it went on till the infidel seemed to gain all the ground. His ques- tions and argument were so pretty and put in such a way that before I knew it I was captured; and by the time I had got through the book I had the whole of the infidel's article stamped on my memory and spirit, and the Christian's argument was lost; I could scarcely remember any of it. Well, I was afraid to tell any one. Oh, if any one should find out that I did not believe in the exist- ence of God. I longed for some one to talk to that I might empty my crop of the load of folly that I had gathered. And I read everything I could get my hands on, so as to strengthen me in my new light, as I thought. Yet I wanted to forget it, and get out of it. But it was like a snare; I could not. A year had gone. I talked big and let out a little bit now and then. How beautiful the old hymn: 30 AUTOBIOORAPHY OF '* When Josus saw me from on high, Beheld my soul in ruin lie, He looked at me with pitying eye, And said to me as he passed by, 'With God you have no union.' " Oh, how true! I longed for deliverance, but how to get free. The Lord sent help in this way: My aunt, my mother's half sister, who now lives in Baltimore, and whom I loved very much, came up to York, and then to Wrightsville, to visit father and us chil- dren. I lived in Columbia; and I went over to see her and had her come over with me. "Now," I thought, "this will be my chance to unburden by heart. Aunt lives away down in the country in Quaker Bottom, or in the neighborhood of Hereford, Md., and I know no one there, and no one knows me; I shall never be there; and just so that no one knows around here, that is all I care for." My auat was very religiously inclined, naturally. She was much like my mother in spirit. So as we walked along, crossing the long bridge, at that time a mile and a quarter long, we stop- ped, and were looking off in the water. Aunt said, "How won- derfully God has created everything, the sky, and the great waters, etc." ^ Then I let out with my biggest gun; I said, "How do you know there is a God?" and went on with just such an air as a poor, blind, ignorant infidel is capable of putting on. My aunt turned and looked at me with a look that went through me like an arrow; then stamping her foot, she said: " Don't you ever speak to me again. Anybody that had as good a Christian mother as you had, and was raised as you have been, to speak so to me. I don't want to talk to you." And God broke the snare. I felt it. T felt deliverance from that hour. How many times I have tlianked God for my aunt's help. If she had argued with me I don't believe I should ever have got out of that snare of the devil And I would say to my readers, "Beware how you read books tainted with error." There are enough of the orthodox kind that will help you if you will be content with them, and the Book of boolvs. Amen. CHAPTER III. aOMB OF THE REMEMBRANCES OF MY GIRLHOOD DAYS — HELPING RITNAWAYS — MY MOTHER AROUSED — A NARROW ESCAPE — A TOUCHING STORY. The name of my father's landlord was John Lowe, he was a wealthy farmer, lived between New Market and Shrewsbury, Pa. Pretty much all the farmers round about in those days were anti- slavery men; Joseph Hendricks, Clark Lowe, and a number of others. My father worked a great deal for Isaac Hendricks, who used to keep the Blueball Tavern. I and the children have gath- ered many a basket of apples out of the orchard, and many a pail of milk I have helped to carry to the house, and often at John Lowe's as well; I used to help them churn often. And then old Thomas Wantlen, who used to keep the store; how well I remem- ber him. John Lowe would allow my father to do what he could in secreting the poor slaves that would get away and come to him for protection. At one time he was Magistrate, and of course did not hunt down poor slaves, and would support the law whenever things were brought before him in a proper way, but my father and mother were level headed and had good broad common sense, so they never brought him into any trouble. Our house was one of the main stations of the Under Ground Railroad. My father took the "Baltimore Weekly Sun" newspaper; that always had advertisements of runaway slaves. After giving the cut of the poor fugitive, with a little bundle on his back, going with his face northward, the advert Isj'mcnt would read something like this: Thr.M- thousand dollars reward! Ran away from Anerandell Counn-. Maryland, such a date, so many feet high, scar on the right side of the forehead or some other partof the body,— belong- ing to Mr. A. or B. So sometimes the excitement was so high we (31) 33 Autobiography op had to be very discreet in order not to attract suspicion. My father was watched closely. I have known him to lead in the harvest field from fifteen to twenty men — he was agreat cradler and mower in those days — and after working all day in the harvest field, he would come ' home at night, sleep about two hours, then start at midnight and walk fifteen or twenty miles and carry a poor slave to a place of security; sometimes a mother and child, sometimes a man and wife, other times a man or more, then get home just before day. Perhaps he could sleep an hour then go to work, and so many times baffled suspicion. Never but once was there a poor slave taken that my father ever got his hand on, and if that man had told the truth he would have been saved, but he was afraid. There was a beautiful woods a mile from New Market on the Baltimore and York Turnpike; it was called Lowe's Camp Ground. It was about three quarters of a mile from our house. My mother was a splendid cook, so we arranged to keep a boarding house during the camp meeting time. We had melons, and pies and cakes and such like, as well. Father was very busy and had not noticed the papers for a week or two, so did not know there was any advertisement of runaways. There were living in New Market certain white men that made their living by catching run- away slaves and getting the reward. A man named Turner, who kept the post office at New Market, Ben Crout, who kept a regular Southern blood-hound for that purpose, and John Hunt. These men all lived in New Market. Then there was a Luther Amos, Jake Hedrick, Abe Samson and Luther Samson, his son. I knew them all well. Samson had a number of grey-hounds. So these fellows used to watch our house closely, trying every way to catch my father. One night during camp meeting, between twelve and one o'clock, we children were all on the pallet on the floor. It was warm weather, and father and mother slept in the bed. A man came and knocked at the door. Father asked who was there? He said "A friend. I hear you keep a boarding house and I want to get something to eat." Father told him to come in. He had everything but hot coffee — so he went to work and got the coffee ready. Father talked with him. The man was well dressed. He had changed his clothes, he said, as he had been traveling, and it was dusty, and he was on his way to the camp meeting. This is what he said Amanda Smith. 33 to my father. So by and by the cotfee was ready, and father set him down to his supper. This man had com.' throu^'h New Mar- ket, and Ben Croiit and John Hunt, who had read thi' advertise- ment, saw this man answered the description and h()i)in^' to catch my father, told him to come to our house and all about my father havinp a boarding house and all about the camp mretinp. It was white people's camp meetingr, but colored people went as well; it used to be the old Baltimore camp, so called, and so that was the way the poor man knew so well what to say. He had come away from Louisiana, and had been two weeks lyings by in the day time and traveling at night, but had got so hungry he ventured into this town, and these men were looking for him, but he did not know it. When they saw him they knew he answered the advertise- ment given in the paper, for it was always explicitly given; the color, the height and scars on any part of his body. Well, just about the time the man got through with his supper, some one shouted, " Halloo! " Father went to the door. There were six or seven white men, and they said, "We want that nigger you are harboring, he is a runaway nigger." "I am not harboring anybody," father said. Then they began to curse and swear and rushed uponhim. The man jumped and ran up stairs. My mother had a small baby. Of course she was frightened and jumped up, and they were beating father and tramping all over us children on the floor. We were screaming. There stood in the middle of the floor an old fashioned ten plate stove. There was no fire in it, of course, and as my poor fright- ened mother ran by it trying to defend father, she caught her wrapper in the door, just as a man cut at her with a spring dirk knife; it glanced on the door instead of on mother. I have thanked God many a time for that stove door. But for it my i)oor mother would have been killed that night. The poor man jumped out of the window up stairs and ran about two hundred yards, when Ben Grout's blood-hound caught him and held him' till they came. When they found the man was gone, they left oflF beating father and went for the man. That was the first and last darkey they ever got out of Sam Berry's clutches. It put a new spirit in my mother. She cried bitterly, but O, when it was all over how she had gathered courage and strength. The good white people all over the neighborhood were aroused, but he was so close to the Mary- land line they had him in Baltimore a few hours from then. And, poor fellow, we never heard of him afterwards. 34 AUTOBIOGRAl'HY OF Some lime, about three or four months after this, along in the fall, we were sleeping upstairs. One night about twelve o'clock a knock came on the fence. My father answered and went down and opened the door. Mother listened and heard them say " run- away nigger." She sprang up, and as she ran downstairs she snatched down father's cane, which had a small dirk in it ; she went up and threw open the door, pushed father aside, but he got hold of her, but O, when she got through with those men ! They fell back and tried to apologize, but she would hear nothing. " I can't go to my bed and sleep at night without being hounded by you devils," she said. Next morning father wont oft to work, but mother dressed her- self and went to New Market ; as she went she told everybody she met how she had been hounded by these men. Told all their names right out, and all the rich respectable people cried shame, and backed her up. Dr. Bell, the leading doctor in New Market, who himself owned three or four slaves, stood by my mother and told her to speak of it publicly; so she stood on the stepping stone at Dr. Bell's, right in front of the largest Tavern in the place. There were a lot of these men sitting out reading the news. The morning was a beautiful Fall morning, and she opened her mouth and for one hour declared unto them all the words in her heart. Not a word was said against her, but as the spectators and others looked on and listened the cry of "Shame! Shame!" could be heard ; and the men skulked away here and there. By the time she got through there was not one to be seen of this tribe. That morning, as mother went to New Market, this same blood-hound of Ben Grout's was lying on the sidewalk, and as mother went on a lady she used to work for, a Mrs. Rutlidge, saw the dog and saw mother coming. She threw up her hand to indicate to her the dangerous animal. They generally kept her fastened up, but this morning she was not. Mother paid no attention but went on. Mrs. R. clasped her hands and turned her back expecting every moment to hear mother scream out. She looked around and mother was close by the dog and stepped right over her. She was so frightened she said: "O, Mary, how did you get by that dread- ful dog of Ben Grout's?" Mother was wrothy, and said, "I didn't stop to think about that dog," and passed on. And this was the wonder to everybody around. It was the great talk of the day all about the country, Amanda Smith. 35 how that Sam Berry's wife had passed Ben Croat's blood-hound and was not hurt. Then they began to say she must have had some kind of a charm, and they were shy of her. Ever after that nobody, bhick or white, troubled Sam Berry's wife. It was no charm, but was God's wonderful deliverance. About two years or more after this, the papers were full of notices of a very valuable slave who had run away. A heavy re- ward was otfered. He had by God's mercy got to u.s, and by mov- ing the poor fellow from place to place he had been kept safi' for about two W3eks, as there was no possible chance for father or any one to get him away, so closely were we watched. My father was a very early riser, always up and out about day dawn. Our house stood in the valley between two hills, so that the moment you struck the top of the hill, either way coming or going, you could see every move around our house. Just on the opposite side of tin- road there used to stand two large chestnut trees, but these had been blown down by a great storm some time before, so there was no screen to hide the house from full view. This morning, while out in the yard feeding the pigs, he saw four men coming on horse- back. He knew they were strangers. He could not get iu the house to tell mother, so he called to her and said: "Mother, I see four men coming; do the best you can." She must act in a moment without being able to say a word more to father. The poor slave man was upstairs. She brought him down and put him between the cords and straw tick. As it was early in the morning her bed was not made up. In the old- fashioned houses in the country we did not have parlors. The front room downstairs was often used as the bed-room. My little brother, two years old, slept in the foot of the bed. The men rode up and spoke to my father. He was a very polite man. "Good morning, gentlemen, good morning, you are out quite early this morning." "Yes, we are looking for a runawa}' nigger." Just then my father recognized the high sheriff as Mr. E., who was formerly his young master. "Why, is this is not Mr. E. ?" "Yes, Sam, didn't you know me?" My father made a wonderful time over him, laughed heartily ind said: "What in the world is up?" "Do j'ou know anything about this runaway?" Another spoke up and s;iid: "We have a search warrant and 36 Autobiography of we mean to have that nigger. We want to know if you have him hid away/' "Well," father said, "if I tell you I have not, you won't believe me; if I tell you I have, it will not satisfy-you, so come in and look." He didn't know a bit what mother had done, but he knew she had a head on her, and he could trust her in an emergency. The men hesitated and said: "It is no use for us to go in, if you will just tell us if you have him or know anything about him." And father said: "You come in, gentlemen, and look." They said, "We have heard your wife is the devil," and then, speaking very nicely, "You know, Sam, we don't want any trouble with her, you can tell us just as well." "No, gentlemen, you will be better satisfied if you go in and see for yourselves." Just then mother, in the most dignified and polite manner, threw open the door and said: "Good morning, gentlemen, come right in." So they laughed heartily. Two dismounted and came in, went upstairs, looked all about while one looked in the kitchen behind the chimney, in the pot closet; and my mother went to the bed and threw back the cover (she knew what cover to throw back, of course,) there lay my little brother. She said: "Look every- where, maybe this is he?" "My! Sam," one of them said, "here is a darkey, what will you take for him ? " "No, you have not money enough to buy him," father said. Then mother said: "Now, gentlemen, look under the bed as well; you haven't examined everything here," and they laughed and ran out and said: "Well, Sam, we see you haven't got him." And father said: "Well, now you are better satisfied after you have looked yourselves." So he didn't tell any lie, but he had the darkey hid just the same! They mounted their horses and went off full tilt to York. We children were sharp enough never to show any sign of alarm. Poor me, my eyes felt like young moons. The man was safe. After they had got away, mother got the poor fellow out, and he was so weak he could scarcely stand. He trembled from head to foot, and cried like a child. Poor fellow, he thought he was gone, and but for my noble mother he would have been. We soon got him off to Canada, where, I trust, he lived to thank and praise God, who delivered him from the hand of his masters. Amanda Smith. 37 I can't tell just how lonp; it was after this occurrence, but it was in harvest time. My father had pot home from work and was sitting out in the front yard restin not done it, and you might as well stop." Amanda Smith. 47 O, what a conllict. How the darkness srcmrd to gather around me, and in my desperation I looked up and said, '* (), Lord, I have come down here to die, and I must have salvation this afternoon or death. If you send me to hell I will go, but convert my soul." Then I looked up and said, " O, Lord, if thou wilt only please to help me if ever I backslide don't ever let me see thy face in peace." And I waited, and 1 did not hear the old suggestion that had been following me, "That is just what 30U said before," so I said it again, "O, Lord, if Thou wilt only please to convert my soul and make me truly sensible of it, if I backslide don't ever let me see Thy face in peace." I prayed the third time, using these same words. Then some- how I seemed to get to the end of everything. I did not know what else to say or do. Then in my desperation I looked up and said, "O, Lord, if Thou wilt help me I will believe Thee," and in the act of telling God I would, I did. O, the peace and joy that flooded my soul! The burden rolled away; 1 felt it when it left me, and a flood of light and joy swept through my soul such as I had never known before. I saici, "Why, Lord, I do believe this is just what I have been asking for," and down came another flood of light and peace. And I said again, "Why, Lord, I do believe this is what I have asked Thee for." Then I sprang to my feet, all around was light, I was new. I looked at my hands, they looked new; I took hold of myself and said, "Why, I am new, I am new all over." I clapped my hands; I ran up out of the cellar, I walked up and down the kitchen floor. Praise the Lord! There seemed to be a halo of light all over me; the change was so real and so thorough that I have often said that if I had been as black as ink or as green as grass or as white as snow, I would not have been frightened. I went into the dining room; we had a large mirror that went from the floor to the ceiling, and I went and looked in it to see if anything had transpired in my color, because there was something wonderful had tak<'n i)lace inside of me, and it really seemed to me it was outside too, and as 1 k)oked in the glass I cried out, "Hallelujah, I have got religion; glory to God, I have got religion!"' I was wild with delight and joy; it seemed to me as if I would split! I went out into the kitchen and I thought what will I do, I have got to wait till Sunday before I can tell anybody. This was on Tuesday; Sunday was my day in town, so I began to count the days, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, 48 Autobiography of Friday, Saturday, Sunday. O, it seemed to me the days were weeks long. My I can I possibly stand it till Sunday? I must tell somebody, and as I passed by the ironing table it seemed as if it had a halo of light all around it, and I ran up to the table and smote it with my hand and shouted, "Glory to God, I have got religion!" The Lord kept me level-headed and didn't make me so excited I didn't know what I was doing. Mrs. Mifflin was very delicate; she had asthma, and I knew if I said anything to excite her it might kill her, and the Lord kept me so I didn't make any noise to excite her at all. I didn't tell her; didn't feel led to tell her. There was no one in the house at the time, not a soul. She was on the front veranda and I had it all to myself in the kitchen. O, what a day! I never shall forget it; it was a day of joy and gladness to my soul. After I had been converted about a week I was very happy. One morning it seemed to me I didn't know what to do with myself, I was so happy. I was singing an old hymn, — " O how happy are they, who their Saviour obey. And have laid up their treasures above; Tongue can never express the sweet comfort and peace, Of a soul in its earliest love." When I got to the verse: — "When my heart, it believed, what a joy I received, What a heaven in Jesus' name; 'Twas a heaven below, my Redeemer to know, And the angels could do nothing more Than to fall at His feet, and the story repeat. And the Lover of sinners adore." O, how my soul was filled. Just then the enemy whispered to me, "There, you are singing just as if you had religion." "Well, I have. I asked the Lord to convert me and He has done it." " How do you know? " "Well I know He did it, because it was just what I asked the Lord to do, and He did, and I know He did, for I never felt as I do now, and I know I am converted." " You have a great blessing," the Devil said, " But how do you know that is conversion?" "Well," I said, "That is what I asked the Lord to do and I believe He did it." Amanda Smith. 40 •* You know, you don't want to be a hypocrite? " "No, and I will not be, either." " But you have no evidence." ♦* Evidence, evidence, what is that? " Then I thought, I won- der if that is not what the old people used to call the witness of the Spirit. "Well," I said, "I won't sing, I won't pray until I get the witness." So I began and I held this point; God helped me to hold this point. I said, "Lord I believe Thou hast con- verted my soul, but the Devil says I have no evidence. Now Lord give me the evidence," and I prayed a whole week. Every now and then the joy would spring up in my heart, the burden was all gone, I had no sadness, I could not cry as I had before, and I did not understand it and so I kept on pleading, "Lord, I believe Thou hast converted me, but give me the evidence, so clear and definite that the Devil will never trouble me on that line again." Praise the Lord, He did, and though I have passed through many sorrows, many trials, Satan has buffeted me, but never from that day have I had a question in regard to my conversion. God helped me and He settled it once for all. This witness of God's spirit to my conversion has been what has held me amid all the storms of temptation and trial that I have passed through. O what an anchor it has been at time of storm. Hallelujah, for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth. Ye shall know if ye follow on to know the Lord. Amen. Amen. CHAPTER V. HOW I BOUGHT MY SISTER FRANCES AND HOW THE LORD PAID THE DEBT. It was in September, 1862. The Union soldiers were stationed all along the line, from Havre de Gras and Monkton, Md. My aunt, my mother's sister, lived about a mile and a half from Here- ford, on the old homestead, where my grandmother lived and died. After the death of my mother there were six of us children at home with father. My aunt, who had been married about two years, wanted my father to let one of my sisters go with her to Maryland. She had but one child of her own at that time, and she wanted my sister to be company for her little child, and to look after him, as she worked out by the day very often. So my father gave her my sister Frances, who was then about ten years old. It was not very safe for colored people to pass up and down, but sometimes they could do it without being molested at all. My aunt used to come back and forth once a year to the camp meet- ing, as many of the colored people, round about did. The camp meeting was then called the old Baltimore Camp. It was held on Lowe's camp-ground. My sister was very anxious to go with my aunt. She promised to take very good care of her, so father was quite willing to have her go. She had been there about three years, I think; my aunt then had two children; and my sister took care of them while she would be away at work every day; of course things didn't always go on with children as they should, and then my aunt was very severe on Frances; several times she whipped her very severely, so that the neighbors interfered, and that made unpleasant feelings between the neighbors and my aunt. Word came to my father about it, but he could not go very well, nor did any of the rest feel that we could go; there was so much excitement about the war we did not like to risk it (50) Amanda Smith, 51 After the war hud begun, these soldiers were stationed, as I have said, and I had made up my mind that 1 would risk it, and go and see about my sister. Prior to this my aunt had written father that Frances had got very unruly, and when she would whip her she would run away, and that she had gone o(f somewhere, and he must come and see after her. 1 was living in Lancaster, Pa., with Col. H 8. McGraw's family. I got six dollars a month. I told Mrs. McGraw about my sister, and told her I thought it was safe for me to go now; that 1 would be safer under the protection of the Union soldiers. 1 got her to advance me fifty dollars and I started on my journey down to Monkton. I went to Little York, Pa., and from York to Monkton, Md. I got to my aunt's house about one o'clock in the afternoon. She was not at home The children were there, and they told me Frances was living with Mr. Hutchinson. Well, I didn't know where Mr. Hutchinson lived, but by inquiring got on the right road. Finally I came to the man who had been magistrate in that part of the country; I wanted to see him, for I had heard in that time my sister had been sold, so I went in to inquire what could be done. My sister was born free — born in Pennsylvania — and my father and mother were free, and I wanted to see what could be done. He told me that Frances had run off from my aunt and come to their house, and as he saw she had been very badly treated, and as she was very kind to the children, his wife thought they would keep her. She came to him for protection. Well, just at that time they were selling black people; every one they could pick up anywhere that could not prove they were free born, were sold for so much. My aunt was a little vexed, so she did not bother about Frances, and my father could not go and swear for her, consequently she wjis sold to Mr. Hutchinson for a term of ten years. He told me that all I could do was to see Mr. Hutchinson, and if he would consent to give her up, I could get her by paying him what he paid for her. He said there was nobody to come forward and swear f«jr her, and he saw she was not kindly treated, but that was all he could do about it. He did not take much pains to give me satis- faction. Oh! those were times! However, after he told me what he did, I started for Mr. Hutchinson's. My! how I cried. How I thought of my dear mother. I was all alone. I walked and prayed. I had had nothing to eat all day. I was very hungry. I had passed several farm-houses, and wanted to go in and ask fur u 83 Autobiography of drink of water, but I was afraid. Finally I came to a very fine house, standing back from the road; beautiful grounds, green grass and trees, a beautiful white veranda, and an old lady in a white cap, sitting out on the veranda; there was a pump in the yard, with a nice bright tin cup hanging on it, but there was a large dog lying on the stoop, so I stood at the gate a moment; the old lady got up and walked to the end of the veranda, and I called out to her, "Madame, I'm very thirsty; will you please let me come in and get a drink of water? " She said "No, no; go on, go on." I nearly fainted for a moment, and I lifted my heart and said, "Now, Lord, help me, and take away the thirst; "and in an instant every bit of thirst and hunger left me; I had not a bit, no more than if I never had been thirsty. I walked on about a mile further in the sun; I got to Mr. Hutchinson's and saw my poor sister. I don't think I ever saw a heathen in Africa, that looked so much like a heathen as she did. I could hardly speak to her. She was busy at work, and seemed to be happ}', but I was not. I told her I had come after her, and to see Mr. Hutchinson. Poor thing, she was so glad to see me! I don't know how "[many black people Mr. Hutchinson owned; he was excited over the war; and while he was considered to be a very good man to his black people, yet he was rough when I told him what my errand was. When I told him my sister was free- born, was not a slave and never had been, he simply said he had nothing to do with that; he had paid forty dollars for her, and he was not going to let her go for less. Well, I didn't know what to do. I cried, but he raved; he swore, and said Frances had not been of any use anyhow. At first he said he would not let her go at all. Then he went into the house. His wife was a very nice woman. How well I remember her. I cried, and cried, and could not stop. I was foolish, but I could not help it. She said something to him. He went into the house, and by and by he came back and said he was not going to let her go for less than forty dollars. Then my sister told me if I would go over to Mrs. Hutchinson's father's (I think his name was Matthews, and he was a Quaker), and see him, she thought he might help me. They were very nice people, and had always been kind to her. It was about a quarter of a mile across the fields. So I went over there and old Mr. Matthews told me I was to go on back, and next morning he would ride over. So, sure enough; next morning the Amanda Smith. 53 old man came over. He pitied me, I saw, but he could not help me much. Mr. Hutchinson walked up and down and swore. I told Mr. Matthews that I had no money scarcely, and I did not know how to get back if I paid out the forty dollars. I would only have enough to get back to York, and how was I going to get from York to Lancaster, where I lived, and get my sister there besides? Well, Mr. Hutchinson said, he had nothing to do with that. So he told my sister she could get ready and go. I paid him the money. Then she got ready. She went to get her shawl, and he said to her she should not have anyXhing but what she had on. They had given her a shawl, a dress and a pair of great big brogan shoes; and they let her take the dress (a blue cotton striped) she had on; madame had given her a gingham apron; that she was to leave. So we started; just what she stood up in, with one domestic dress under her arm, was all she had. He flourished the horse-whip around so I didn't know but we were both going to get a flogging before we left; but we got out without the flogging. But oh! wasn't he mad! I thanked the Lord for the old Quaker gentleman. But for him it would have been much worse. Then how 1 prayed the Lord would bless Mrs. Hutchinson. I believe she was good. There were a number of little black children around there, and Mr. Hutchinson was kind to them, and played with them, and put them on the horse and held them on to ride, and they seemed to be very fond of him. But then they were slaves. What a difference it made in his feelings toward them. My sister was free. He had not any business with her, and I had no right to pay him any money; and if I had had as much sense then as I have now, I would not have paid him a cent; I would have just waited till he went to bed, and taken the underground railroad plan. But it is all over now, and my poor sister has long since gone to her reward. When I came back to Lancaster, to Mrs. McGraw's, she allowed me to bring my sister there, and she helped around with the work till I got her trained somewhat; for she had always worked in the field, and had very little idea about housework. Now I worked, as it were, for a dead horse; for I was in debt to Mrs. McGraw fifty dollars. She paid me my wages regularly, but there was this debt; and with Frances on my hands, I was not able to pay a cent of the fifty dollars. Oh! how it worried me. I hated to think of it; I hated so to have debt. But then I could not help it, 54 Autobiography op and I had no one to help me. My sisters were all poor, and worked hard for themselves. Father was not able to help me. One day Mr. Robert McGraw, Col. McGraw's brother, came to spend some time with them in Lancaster. He was a man that had plenty of means, and was very generous. I was always very glad when Mr. Robert came to see them. I was always sure of two dollars and fifty cents or five dollars when he went away. We dined at three o'clock in the afternoon; had breakfast at nine. Mr. Robert had had his breakfast and gone down town. He went into a bank to get a bill changed. He had four one hundred dollar bills rolled together. He went into the bank and got one bill changed as he went down in the morning. He came back at three o'clock to dinner. After dinner was over he always came out in the kitchen to light his cigar. Mrs. McGraw's son, Henry, a boy of about ten years of age, had a very fine dog, and thought a great deal of him. I was very particular about my kitchen, and they would come out into the kitchen and get to playing, and would sometimes make my kitchen look pretty well upset. Of course I didn't say any- thing, for Mr. Robert was kind; but I did not like it. Now, when he got the bill changed and went to put the three hundred dollars back in his pocket, instead of putting the money into his pocket, he slipped it inside his pants; and strange as it may seem, he had come all the way home and it was not lost on the street. But while he was playing in the kitchen with little Henry after dinner it slipped down and dropped on the floor. It just looked like a piece of paper he had twisted up to light his cigar. I saw it lying there, but did not bother to pick it up at first. He had gone away down street. It was a little rainy. After awhile the dog came running in to go upstairs after Henry. The middle door was shut and he could not get upstairs. As he came back past me I went to give him a send off with my foot, and kicked this roll of paper that lay there. Something seemed to whisper to me, "You had better pick that up and look at it. It might be a twenty dollar bank note." So I picked it up; and Oh, my! in all my born days did I ever have such a surprise. Three hundred dollars! Three one hundred dollar bills on the Baltimore bank! My! But I said, "This is Mr. Robert McGraw's." Mrs. McGraw was very kind, but I knew if I gave it to her that I would not get more than a dollar; but if I kept it and gave it to Mr. Robert I was sure he would give me five dollars. There was no one in the kitchen but Amanda Smith. 55 myself. The other two servants were upstairs. So I said to myself, "Mr. Robert will be here in a few minutes." This was between half past four and five o'clock in the afternoon. I said nothing to any one. Mr. Robert did not come till along about si.x or seven o'clock in the evening. I had not said a word to any- body. Tile suggestion came to me, "Now this is a good chanct- for you to get out of debt to Mrs. McCiraw. None of thcsf bills are marked, and you can take it tt) tlu* bank and givr it to sonic- body and you can get that money." I let all these thoughts play through my mind, and then I said, "Now, Mr. Devil, you lie I don't mean to get into any trouble about that money at all." After awhile I heard some one coming, talking, and I saw two or three persons. Mr. Robert did not come in »t the front door; he came around through the yard and came in at the side door. Two boys were with him, and they had lanterns, and they had looked all along the street for this money. This is the way he missed it. He w^nt into a barber sho]) to get shaved. After he was shaved he put his hand into his pocket to get the money to pay for it, and found that he had only the money that he had got changed. The other bills were gone. He was very jolly, and said, '■ I have lost threeor four hundred dollars; I don't know wiiich. I will give fifty dollars ifl can find it." And of course they were all out looking for it. So he came into the yard. "What is the matter, Mr. Robert? " "Amanda," he replied, "I have lost three or four hundred dollars," and then saying a word with tvs«o d's in it, he said he didn't know which, and continued looking about with the boys. I said, "My, Mr. Robert, three hundred dollars?" "Yes, three or four, I don't know which. I will give fifty dollars if I can find it." As soon as he said, "I will give fifty dollars if I can find it," I said " Mr. Robert, what did you say? " "I said I will give fifty dollars if I can find it." Then he looked up at me through his glasses, and I said, " I wonder if I can find it," and at the same time reached way down in my ix)cket. "Amanda," he said, "did you find if" " Hold on; wait till I se^^." And making a desperate effort I hauled it out. There were the three one hundred dollar bills My! weren't the boys surprised! He turned right around to the 66 AUTOBIOGRAPSY OF flour chest that stood in the kitchen and counted me out fifty dollars in ten dollar bills. I got down on my knees right there and then and thanked the Lord, and Mr. Robert said, "Oh, Amanda, it's all right, it's all right; you are welcome to it." And that is the way the Lord got me out of that debt. " In some way or other the Lord will provide." Amen. Amen. CHAPTER VT. MARRIAGE AND DISAPPOINTED HOPES — RETURN TO PHILADELPHIA — A STRANGER IN NEW YORK — MOTHER JONES' HELP — DEATH OP MY FATHER. After my conversion I continued to live in Columbia, Pa., a year or two; then went to live at Colonel McGraw's in Lancaster, about ten miles from Columbia, where I remained some four or five years. In the meantime the civil war had broken out, and my husband, in common with so many others, enlisted and went South with the army, from which he never returned. From Lan- caster I went to Philadelphia, where I remained at service with different families for several years. There I became acquainted with James Smith, a local preacher, to whom I was subsequently married. When the first few months after my marriage to James Smith had passed, things began to get very unsatisfactory. My husband had one grown daughter, eighteen years of age, by a former mar- riage, and I had one daughter, about nine years old, by my first marriage. At times, things in the house were very unpleasant. I was greatly disappointed, perhaps I had expected too much of my husband. He was a local preacher and an ordained deacon in the A. M. E. Church. My first husband was not a professing Chris- tian at all, neither was I when I married him. During the years of my widowhood I boarded my little girl, here a while and then there. Sometimes she was well taken care of and at other times was not; for I found that often people do things just for the little money they get out of it; and when I would go and see the condi- tion of my poor child, and then had to turn away and leave her and go to my work I often cried and prayed; but what could I do more ? I had not yet learned to trust God fully for all things. One reason for my marrying a second time was that I might have (57) 58 Autobiography oB' a Christian home and serve God more perfectly. I thought to marry a preacher would be the very thing, though notwithstanding, I prayed earnestly for light and guidance from the Lord, and I believe, now, he gave it me, but I did not walk in it. How sorry I have been many times since. I told my husband how, since my conversion, I felt it my duty to be an Evangelist. He quite agreed to it all, and told me he was preparing himself to join the Confer- ence and so go into the itinerant work. He explained and rea- soned it all so well, and, of course, I had learned to love him, and that went a good ways towards making everything look very plausi- ble, notwithstanding the light the Lord had given me, I said the Lord knows the deep desire of my heart is to work for Him, and I could help my husband so much in his work. I had seen and known the influence of a minister's wife, and how much she could help her husband or hinder him to a great extent in his work, Mr. Smith said that was just the kind of a wife he wanted. I remembered Rev. Joshua Woodland and his wife, how they used to go about among the people and make them feel they were of them, and all who knew them loved them; and so with my pastor. Rev. L, Patterson and his wife. She would lead prayer meeting and pray with the sick and dying, and was a beautiful house- keeper with all, and all these just suited me, and I thought how nice it will be to be able to do so much good, and beside to be spoken of as "Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Smith." I thought I saw it clearly, and I said, yet after all, this looks like the Lord's will. At that very hour Satan had gained the victory over me and yet I did not know it was he. After I had given my consent I went to the Lord to have it ratified, but not a ray of light came. I felt sad, but what could I do? I said when the Conference comes and Mr. Smith gets his appointment I will begin work at once with the people, and T will then get light and liberty of soul and will be all right, so this cheered me; but O, the subtilty of Satan, how he can transform himself into an angel of light to deceive even to this day. The marriage was over and the Conference came. For several weeks prior to the session of the Conference I saw that my husband did not seem to be interested and studious as he had been, and when I would speak to him about it he would be cold and indiffer- ent. O, how indescribably sad I felt; I was frightened. Now I thought if he changes his mind and does not join the Conference, Amanda Smith. 59 what will I do? I felt I could not stand the disappointment. My heart was sad, yet I tried to hope all throujxh. I watched my hus- band, but ht' was still inditferent. One day he came home from the Conference quite out of sorts with the Bishop and all the brethren, and I knew from the way he expressed himself all was up for my good work as a pastor's wife; but I prayed with what spirit was left in me and hoped that at the last things would come out all right. Finally, the Conference closed and the appoint- ments were read. I said to my husband: "Are you not going to- night to hear the appointments?" "No, I don't want to hear them;" so I went out alone. It seemed to me T could scarcely walk to the church — old Bethel Church, on Sixth street, Philadelphia. I went in, sat down and listened to the long list of appointments read. James Smith's name was not there. I said, can it be I have heard rightly. I saw my mistake, Satan had deceived me. "O, Lord," I said, "what shall I do?" I went home and asked my husband all about it. I shall never forget how he took me on his lap and kindly put his arm around me and said, tenderly, "My dear, I was afraid to tell you what was really in my heart, I was afraid you would not marry me." "But how could you deceive me so?" "I knew it was wrong," he said, "but you will forgive me?" Of course, I would, and did, but the remembrance was griev- ous. The Lord sustained me and gave me His grace. After a year Mrs. Colonel McGraw, with whom I had lived in Lancaster for some four years, came for me to go a few months to Wheatland, Md., where they had moved. They found it difficult to get a cook, and they thought I might go for a few months to get the house settled. After getting the consent of my husband, I took my baby, little Nell, six months old, and my daughter Mazie, and we went for the summer. O, what I went through during those three months! I had to do all the cooking for the house, and eight farm hands, beside helping with the washing and doing up all the shirts and fine clothes and looking after my chil dren. How I did it I don't know. There were but two other servants in the house, chambermaid and waiter, so I had no help only as they were kind enough, at times, to lend a hand. My baby seemed to get along nicely for the first three weeks, then she was 60 Autobiography op taken sick with summer complaint, and in six weeks I had to lay her away in the grave to await the morning of the Resurrection. Mrs. McGraw had gone to Lancaster, so was not there. Mr. Mc- Graw was just as kind as he could be to make things as pleasant as possible. He made all the arrangements for the funeral, and bore all the expenses, but, in spite of all, m}' mother heart was sore and sad. My husband was at Bethlehem Springs and could not get there. Nevertheless, the Lord stood by me. Praise His name for ever and ever. Amen. In the fall I returned home to Philadelphia, and went out to days' work and took washing, in every way to help mj' husband. In the course of time the Lord gave me another dear little boy, and I named him after Thomas Henry, whom I loved for his Christian, manly bravery in the dark da3's of slavery. He was a member of the M. E. Church, and was a licensed preacher for a number of years at Hagerstown, Md., and left that church and joined the A. M. E. Church in 1834. The stewards and sometimes the preachers, in those days owned slaves, and as one of the stewards of the church he belonged to, sold a poor col- ored girl away from her child, he was sad about it, knowing them all as he did; so he went to the Presiding Elder and asked him about the clause in the discipline about buying and selling slaves. He told him that he had nothing to do with the Steward's prop- erty'; and after still further inquiry the same answer was given. Then with Tom Henry forbearance ceased to be a virtue and he said no man whose hand is red with innocent blood shall ever put the Sacrament in my mouth. Heremaineda worthy member of the A. M. E. Church, which he served nobly till he fell asleep in Jesus, about ten years ago. I speak of him because he was a father to me, and so often comforted my heart when I would be almost overwhelmed. The story of his life ought to be read by every Methodist preacher of to-day, for many of them have forgotten what the fathers had to go through in preparing a church for them to carry forward. What wonderful changes have been since then! Surely, God hath been good to Israel. In 1865 my husband took a position at Leland's Hotel, and we moved from Philadelphia to New York. We were strangers, I, especially. My husband, James Smith, was a Mason and an Odd Fellow, so in that way knew many more persons than I. The New Amanda Smith. 61 York people, both white and colored, seemed so different from the Philadelphia people. I could not seem to get into their ways. In Philadelphia my church relations were so congenial and spiritual, but here I was very lonesome. We found it difficult to get rooms. In Philadelphia, you could get a small house to yourself, but rents in New York were high, and there were many things in the way. I hoped my husband would go back again; but no, I must make the best of things till we got started and acquainted. That means something when one goes to New York a stranger, as I did, and with but little money. I took a situation as cook up town, Twenty- fourth street and Lexington avenue, with a Mrs. L. It was a very nice place; there I stayed about two months. My husband got a room in York street, an^ then I only went out to day's work, still findin|: the people with whom I met cool and unsocial compared with what they were in Philadelphia. I told my husband I did not like New York. Then he advised me to join some societies, then I would get better acquainted. All the leading high-toned church people were in society; so it was then, and is to-day. Well, I was high-toned in spirit, — always had been; I think I took after the white folks I lived with; they were aristocratic. So I thought that is a good idea and I will get to know all the nice people; so I joined three different societies. I was greatly disappointed in the spirit that I saw manifested among the members, but I said I will have to get used to things, then it will be better, so I went on for a year. Then there was a new society started called the "Heroines of Jericho." None but Master Masons' wives and daughters could join it, and this society was very high-toned, and as my husband was a Master Mason, he was anxious for me to join. He came home one night and told me all about it. Nothing would do but I must join this if I let some of the others go. Well, after some weeks I did, and we had flashy times, all the tinsel regalia and turn out and money spending and show; it took all I could gather to keep up with it, and I had no chance to draw anything, for I had good health aid was never sick; but still I must go on paying my dues regularly, as I had begun; and so I did till '68, then after God had sanctified my soul He opened my eyes to see the folly of all this and taught me how to trust in Him, and I came out of every one of them. The more I prayed about it the clearer God made it to me that 62 Autobiography op all these secret societies are the mothers of selfishness, pride and worldliness. I shall praise God forever that when I asked Him for light on these things He gave it to me, and as I walked in it He led me out into a place of broad rivers. Some of the sisters and brethren visited me and tried to persuade me. They said, "you were just come to where j^ou would be in office, and you have paid so much money in, and you should not leave it now. " When I did not yield they turned on me and treated me coolly, and said many unkind things about me. But thank God, I was out to go in no more. I treated everybody very kindly, and did pray for them all, for I knew God would give them light if they only would receive it. After this I had my trials. My husband could not under- stand why I should take such a position, but I could not explain, I could only sing, "He leadeth me! Oh! blessed thought, Oh! words with heav'nly comfort fraught; Whate'er I do, where'er I be, Still 'tis God's hand that leadeth me." One morning as I was over the wash-tub my heart was sore. Oh! what a night I had had. I felt I could not bear any more, and I said, O, Lord, is there no way out of this? And as I wept and prayed the Lord sent Mother Jones. I did not want her to catch me crying; I did not believe in telling all my little troubles, but there she was, and I was so full and had suppressed so long that I could hold in no longer. "Well, Smith," she said, "how do you do?" "O, Mother Jones, I am nearly heart-broken; James is so unkind," and I began to tell all my good works; how I did this and how I did that, and all I could to make things pleasant, and yet he was unkind. "Well," she said, " that is just the way Jones used to do me, but when God sanctified my soul He gave me enduring grace, and that is what you need; get sanctified, and then you will have enduring grace." "My," I thought, " is that what sanctification means? Endur- ing grace? That is just what I need; I have always been planning to get out of trials, instead of asking God for grace to endure; " and as she talked on. down deep in my heart I prayed the Lord to make her go so I could get sanctified and get enduring grace, Mr. Samuel I^ekhy, Father of Amanda Smith. Amanda Smith. 63 before James came home. O, how I did want hor to go! After a while she went. The minute she shut the door I turned the koy and ran into the bed-room and j^'ot on my kners and prayed, *'0, Lord, sanctify my soul and give me enduring grace. O, Lord, sanctify my soul and give me enduring grace." Oh! how 1 struggled and wept and prayed. I threw myself on the tloor, on my face, then I got up and walked up and down the room, wrung my hands, pulled my hair and cried, " O, Lord, sanc- tify my soul and give me enduring grace." I thought if I could only get it before James came home at night, for 1 could never go through another night like last night, then I would cry, "O, Lord, sanctify my soul and give me en- during grace." So I went on for an hour, and when I got through I did not have the great blessing; God had prepared a better way. I was in such distress that 1 never thought about faith; I was taken up with my desire and distress when seeking the blessing. Well, I did not get it then, of course, for faith without works is dead, so works, without real faith in God, are dead also. "I struggled and wrestled to win it, The blessing that setteth me free. But when I had ceased all my struggle, This peace Jesus gave unto me." In this connection I will give a brief account of the closing years of my father's life, as doubtless some may desire to know how he who had fought the battle of life so bravely met the last great enemy — death. After my mother's death my father married again, but his second marriage was not as congenial as the first, and father had got older, and was not patient and forbearing as he ought to have been; and mother's people and children and grandchildren all lived in Baltimore, so that she would be away often for months at a time. Father was old-fashioned, and did not like some of the new methods in church, such as fairs and festivals and the like; so that in speaking against these things, and not in the mildest spirit . I fear, he offended the pastor of the church he belonged to; it was the African Zion Church, called Big Wesley, in Philadelphia, on Lombard street, below Sixth. He was a class leader, but he had Incurred the displeasure of the pastor and the people mostly; so 64 Autobiography of things got to be very unpleasant, and his spirit got sour and he left the church. The Quakers had a mission on St. Mary's street, for the col- ored people, and they did a great deal of good, and father used to go there regularly; he seemed to enjoy it; they were plain and very kind; they manifested such a kind spirit towards all the col- ored people, and looked after the poor so nicely in the winter time. There were large and good Bible classes, and they had excellent teachers. But notwithstanding all this, my father had lost his spiritual life. Oh! how it grieved me to think of it. I wept and prayed for him, and would talk to him sometimes when he would let me; but the old-time people did not want much talk from the children; so I had to be very careful. After the Lord had sanctified by soul, my burden for my poor father increased! Oh, how sad! I wept, and it seemed that the Lord must save him anyhow, whether or no. But, oh! how I learned that we cannot do anything by trying to drive God. He cannot be driven. "But, oh!" I said, " It is my dear father I want saved, and the Lord can and must save him." He was working at that time on a large and high building, and I was so afraid if he were to fall and be crippled, or killed; I could not bear to think of it. So I prayed more fervently. One day I had an awful test while I was praying for him in New York; he was in Philadelphia; and it came tome," Would you be willing for your father to be lost?" Oh! my blood seemed to curdle at the thought; how I did cry to God. Then it came, "Suppose it was God's will, could you submit? " "Oh! Lord," I cried, "You made him, and he is yours, and you have a right to do with your own what you please; but oh! save my father." Then it came, "Suppose you were to hear that he had fallen off that building and was injured for life? " Just then it seemed I saw him fall, and saw the men bring him home, all mangled and bleeding. Oh! what horror! I held my breath, for it seemed it was really so. "I cannotbear the thought of seeing him suffer," I said. "But, oh. Lord, if there is no other way, then let Thy will be done." And I let go of father and took hold of God; and though I cannot tell how, I rested so sweetly in God. His justice is right. His love is right. Two years after this passed away before my father Amanda Smith. 65 died; but, oli! how sweetly llif Lord seemed to brin^' him to Him- self; took all the harshness out of liim; sweetened him down so beautifully, 1 shall never for;,'et. I liad been home to Philadelphia on a visit, and I had father come ai\)und one nida Smith. 85 a deep conviction of want — an indtscribablf want; not condem- nation. But, oh! that deep heart want. Like, after you have eaten a good hearty breakfast, and have worked hard all day, and get very hungry for your dinner or supper. Well, my heart cried out and longed as one that " Longeth for the morning." And yet I had no means, no words to express just what I wanted. One day a friend came in to see me. I was then living at Col. S. Mc(Jraw's, in Lancaster. She was quite a high-toned colored lady, for (every- one knew the Porter family, and they were always considered one of the leading families among the colored people. The father was a large farmer in Kent county, and the sons were all fine young men, and pretty well educated, as was also the daughter. She had been a school teacher for many 3'ears, but was now married to Rev. Lewis Hood, who was pastor of the Union Church in Lancas- ter. So I thought I could open my heart to her, and she would be able to help me. So I said to her, "Sister Hood, I don't know what's the matter with me. Somehow I feel like I wanted some- thing, but I can't tell just what. I pray, but T do not get help just as I want." ■ " Well," she said, " What's the matter with you? Aren't you converted? " "Oh! yes," I said, " It isn't that." " Well, haven't you got the witness of the Spirit?" "Oh! yes; it isn't that." " Well," she said, " If you keep on you will be crazy." Then I was frightened, and said, "Oh! she does not under- stand me; and now if she tells anybody what I said they will not understand it, and will think I have backslidden; and here I am leading class, and the leader of the female prayer meeting." So as soon as she was gone I ran down into the cellar and got down on my knees, and asked the Lord to take out of the mind of Si.ster Hood all that I had said, so she would not repeat it. I was in sore distress. Several days after this I was reading my Bible, and I turned to the forty-second Psalm, first verse, "As the heart panteth after the water brook, so panteth my soul after the living God." My heart leaped. "Oh! "I said, " That's what I wanted — God! Now if anyone asked me what I wanted, as Sister Hood did, I could tell them it was God I wanted." The more I read my Bible, and fasted and prayed, the deeper my hunger became. One day I went 86 Autobiography of to George James — I generally called him " Father James " — he was a tall, elderly man, very dignified in manner, but was kind. He was very black, his hair was white, and he was a leading local preacher, and deacon of the A. M. E. Church, in Lancaster, at that time, where I belonged. So I went to him, and I said: "Father James, I have been reading the Bible to-day, and I see this: 'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' What does that mean?" " You know," he said, " That is in the Bible for you to come as near to it as you can. But God knows you never can be * pure in heart.' " Then he went on and explained to me in his way. Of course I did not get much light. And the Devil said to me as I went home thinking it all over, " You are seeking after something that's not for you." "Well," I said, "People do have this blessing. There are Job Morris, and Polly Waters, and others, and they say they are sanctified, and everybody believes them." "Oh! but they are almost ready to die. But you are young, and you cannot expect to have what they have." " Well, perhaps so," I said. "Then, you know. Father James said that the Bible did'not mean that." But somehow my better judgment said he was wrong. " I believe what the Bible sajs, and there must be some way that this grace can be obtained, or God never would have left it on record." But how to get hold of it I still did not know. I would read my Bible, and pray, and pray on. No light — only the deep hunger. Of course I had comfort in doing my duty — attending my class meeting and prayer meetings, and I would go about and pray with the sick and dying, and work in revival meetings, and in all ways I could. After working hard all day many times I would be called up at twelve or one o'clock at night to go and pray with somebody that was sick or dying. I never refused to go, rain or shine, cold or warm; I felt it was my duty, and I was always glad to do it. Then I would come home, — sometimes at three o'clock — and have but very little sleep, and up and off to work again next morning, when I did not have work in the house. My meat and drink was to see souls coming to Christ. I had no fear to go into a congregation and speak to men or women, young or old. I hardly ever went for persons in a Amanda Smith. 87 congregation, in time of extra meetings, but wliut ihcy went for- ward, and many of them were converted. Praise (jod foreverl And yet at times my spirit was vascillatiiig. Sometimes higli on the mountain. When I wouhl tell of the rapture and joy I felt, sometimes the older brethren and sisters would say, " Ai». child, I was that way, too, when I first got converted; but you wait till the Devil shoots a few bomb-shells at you and you will not have so much joy." Poor me I I tried to look out for these bomb-shells. Oh I why didn't they tell me of the land of corn and wine and oil, and that the God of Caleb and Joshua was able, and wcnild bring me in if I would only trust in Him? But, dear souls, they tlid not know it themselves, so could not help me. So one day I felt I must go and talk with Father James, for I had been reading the fourth chapter of second Thessalonians and third ver.se, "For this is the will of God, even your sanctification." So I said, " Father James, I have been reading the Bible to-day, and I see this. " Then I quoted the text. " Oh! " he said, '" my child, don't you know when people die very happy?" "Yes," I said. "Well, you know, God does not sanctify you until just before you are ready to die. Of course you could not go to heaven unless you were holy, and sanctification makes you holy, and you could not live in this sinful world if you were holy. So if you were sanctified you would die." "Yes," I said. "Well, if it is going to kill me, I don't want it. I don't want to die. The Lord has done a great deal for me. I can do a little for Him; so I will just go on and do the best 1 can." So on I went. Some time after this I was reading the fifth chapter of Mat- thew, and when I got to the eleventh and twelfth verses I said, "My experience does not come up to this: "^Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake.' 'Rejoice and be exceed- ing glad, for great is your reward in heaven.' I cannot rejoice when anyone lies on me; it's no use; I can't do it." Then came up all my good works. " I go to church; I attend to all my duties; I do not go about meddling with other people's affairs; I mind my own busine.ss; and wlien anybody says anything about mt* that is not true, I must have satisfaction. I am not going to stand it." 1 88 Autobiography op had not read, " They that love God in Christ Jesus shall suffer per- secution." But, Oh! haven't I learned it since then. One day one of the dearest friends I had, as I thought, told a real lie on me. It made quite a stir. I wondered where all the coolness came about in different directions, but did not know the real cause. So I made up my mind I would go and ask the parties what the mat- ter was. So I got down and prayed that the Lord would give me the right spirit, and not let me get vexed, and not let the parties get vexed, and make them tell me what the matter was. So off I started a little after nine o'clock in the morning. I walked till about two o'clock in the afternoon, and found myself about as near the truth when I stopped as when I started. The first place I called I said to the friend, calling her by name, " I hear so and so; I came to ask you what about it? " " All I know," she replied, "is what John B. said that Mary S. said that you said that I said that she said," and so on. Well, I went to the next parties. They said the same thing: "Well, all I know about it is Ann So and So said that you said that she said .that I said that they said," etc. I went the round, then started home, so ashamed and disgusted. As soon as I got home I took off my wraps, went down into the cellar and got down on my knees, where I always went to settle hard difficulties, and I said, "Oh! Lord, if you will help me, I will never, while I live, go after another lie." And thank God I never have, though some- times I have been tempted; but the Lord has always delivered me. Praise His dear name! Amen. Some months after this I got interested in the subject of baptism, and I thought if I were immersed it would help me to see the way better. So I went to Father James and told him I would like to be immersed. My father and mother had all of us children baptized, as the discipline of the Methodist Church required; but I thought if I could answer for myself it would be better Then if I came up to all that the Bible said as far as I knew, the Lord would be obliged to give me the great blessing I sought. Father James did not discourage me in this, but rather was favorable. So this helped me to think that I w^as on the right track now. There were four or five others who wanted to be immersed also; so I went around to see them, and it was decided to send to Philadelphia for a good brother and local preacher in the African Methodist Church, a sanctified man named Brother Amanda Smith. 89 .7on«\s. Somi years before there was a j^'reat revival in Columbia, and some six or eight of the converts wanted to be bapli/ed. iSo they sent to Philadelphia and j,'ot Rev. Bob Collins, who was a powerful preacher in his day, and a leading? minister in the A. M. E. Church. It was in the dead of winter. Th*' Susquehanna river was frozen over, and they cut the ice, and Brother Collins baptized ei«?ht, I think it was. And they shouted and sang. They sttxxl on the shore and all around on the ice by hundreds. It was six o'clock in the morning. Oh: what a time! Of course all the Baptists believed in that, and they were out, and rejoiced with them that did rejoice. Our minister at that time^was Key. Sanford. His wife's sister, Henney Johnson, had been very sick, and she had got converted. But she leaned toward the Baptists. So to save her to her church, she was baptized that Sunday, and she got well after that, which was a great wonder to many. Sister Harriet N. Baker was one of the strong members in the church. She was baptized the same Sunday morning. Lancaster was only twelve miles from Columbia, so that we in Lancaster got water struck! For most all the colored people in Lancaster would go to Columbia to quarterly meeting. Oh! how I have seen the [Kiwer of God displayed in the salvation of souls. What men and women they were to pray in those days. How I remember Candes Watson, Sarah Henderson, Chris Stokes, Simon Morris, John Morris, Jake Snively, and a host of others. How they come before me now, as I think it all over. But all these have gone, though it seems but as yesterday. But to return to my story. After I had seen the parties I went to Father James and asked him to write to Brotht-r Jones and find out what the cost would be. He replied that we were to pay him twenty dollars and his traveling expenses from Philadel- phia and back. I was willing to pay him a month's wages, which was six dollars, if the others would make up the balance. So they were to try. A few weeks passed, then one of the leading ones in the number, Sister Maxwell, was taken sick, and her husband would not let her go into the water. Brother Williams went away. I had got my dress ready, but the others all backed out. Tli«ii Father James was taken sick. So he said that March was a ba should lalk so to m.-, and I believe he incurred the Uisph-asure of Ciod, as did Elymas, the sorcerer, who withstood Paul and sought to turn away from the faith Sergius Paulus, a prudent man who had called for Barnabas and Saul, and desired to hear the word of God. Hut this man witiistood them. Hut Paul, b.'ing full of the Holy Ghost, set his eves on him, and said: "Oh! full of all subtilty and mischief, thou child of the Devil, thou enemy of all righteousn<'SS, wilt thou not yet cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord? And now, behold! the hand of the Lord is upon thee. Thou shalt br blind, not seeing the sun for a season." " And immediately there f.-U on him a mist and darkness, and he went about seeking some one to lead him by the hand," (Acts 13:8-12.) So, that day in New Utrecht, John BentU-y came in, as I was in the next room talking with James, my husband. I had gone over to see him. My rent was due, and he had not been over for two weeks, and had not sent me any money. I was not well, and my baby was sick, and I was insisting that James should give me some money, at least the sixty cents that it cost me to come over from New York. But he would not. I was crying and talking, for my heart was almost broken. So, when John Bentley cursed and swore at me, I turned to him quietly, and said: "Why, John Bentley, haven't I a right to come where my own husband is?" But he was fierce. I did not know but he was going to strike me. But I went up to him and looked him in the face, and said to him: "When you have been at my house, haven't I always treated you w.'ll?' I have never laid a straw in your way in my life; and I don't know why you should speak to me in such a way." He went on talking and abusing me terribly. There seemed to come an indescribable power over me, and I turned and lifted my hand toward him, and I said to him: " Mind, John Bentley, the God that I serve will make you pay for this before the year is out." He said: "Well, I don't care if He does. Let Him do it." He had not more than said the words when he seemed to tremble and stagger. There was a chair behind him, and he dropped down into the chair. 1 never saw him from that day. This was about two weeks before Christmas, and before the New Year came, John Bentley was dead and buried! I always feel sad when I think of it, but I believe that God was displeased with that man for cursing me that day. 96 Autobiography of My husband, Jamos Smith, was formerly of Baltimore, Md. He was for many years a leader of the choir of Bethel A. M. E, Church, in that city. Afterward he moved to Philadelphia, and was ordained deacon in the A. M. E. Church. He died in November, 1869, at New Utrecht, N. Y. Since then I have been a widow, and have traveled half way round the world, and God has ever been faithful. He has never left me a moment; but in all these years I have proved the word true, *'Lo! I am with you always, even to the end." "Sometimes 'mid scenes of deepest gloom, Sometimes where Eden's bowers bloom, By waters still, or troubled sea. Still, 'tis my God that leadeth me." Amen. Amen. i had told the Lord I would be obedient and would do all he bade me, so one day while I was busy at work it was whispered to my heart, " You go to Bedford Street on Sunday." "Yes," I said, " I will." I always liked to go and hear Rev. John Cookman, who was then pastor. Sunday morning came; it was Easter Sunday. My friend, Sister Scott, and I went. Strange to say, but the usher took us up front, in what is or used to be called "The Amen Corner." I shall never forget John Cookman's text and sermon. The words were: "See that ye make all things after the pattern shown you in the Mount." O, what a congregation, and what power the young man seemed to have in those days. He brought out holiness so clear and definite. I had got wonderfully' blest as they sang the old Easter Anthem, as only Bedford Street could sing it in those days. O, how it thrills me now as I think it all over! As Brother Cookman went on with his sermon, increasing in fervor and power, the Spirit whispered to me distinctly, "Raise up your right hand," and I was just going to do so, when the Devil said, just as distinctly, "Yes, you look nice lifting up your black hand before all the people " — and I drew back and did not do it. Then the Spirit said: "The other day you told the Lord you would do anything He would tell you to do." "O, yes," I said, "I did. O, Lord, forgive me and give me another chance and I will lifi my hand for Thee! " By-and-by the Spirit said again, "Lift up your right hand," Amanda Smith. 9'7 and 1 aid, :iiKl tht> powrr of tli.- Spini f.ll on th.- people and the wholf cou-ro-:itic.ii. Tlu-iv w.-re "Amrns," and "Aniens," and subs and wtH-pin- and " I'ralse the Lord," lu-ard all over the house, and manv w.to U-d out of i)rison by th.' simi.k- act of obt'dirnc to God. He did not toll mc- to shout, but lu lift my hand for Him, and. the people shouted, and my own h.art tlu-n lilled wilii ador- ing praise. O, I would Ciod 1 had alwaysobi-yed Him. thm would my peace have llowed as the river, but many timts I failed. Once on the car coming from New Utrecht, where I had gone to see my husband, 1 had a tract in my hand with a message for a lad that got in. I saw him look at me, and then turn quickly away as it he was afraid I would hand it to him. My heart was i)rompted to give it to him, but I kept hesitating. First, 1 said, *' 1 will wait till some of the people get out." Then, I said, " 1 will wait till I get out." The car stopped, the lad got out and ran away as though I was after him. I looked after him and wanted to call him, but he was gone. Then these words came to me in such force that I have never forgotten them, " His blood will I require at vour hand." I did nothing but pray to God for His pardoning and forgiving mercy from that hour till I got home; at last, I felt He forgave me and gave me peace in my heart. Here I desire to record some things the Lord taught me about what is now called faith, or divine healing. I think it was in October, 18G8, not very long after I had got the blessing of sanctification. It seemed that my faith had increased and strengthened in this short time, so that I did not seem to find it difficult to believe God for anything I really need.-d. I had never heard of Dr. Cullis, Dr. Bordman, or Dr. Mahan, of Oberlin, Ohio. I had never lead a book or i)aper of any kind. 1 believi'd what I read in the Bible about the miracles performed by the Lord Jesus, opening the eyes of the blind, unstopping the ears of the deaf, and healing the sick, but thought it belong.-d lo th.' days of miracles especially, and it was to prove to the unbrli.'vin- Jews the Divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ. I had often i)ray.'d for sick people, and asked the Lord to bless means that were used, and so many times He did it, as I believe in answer to prayer; but I never made any time about it, as though it were some espe- cial state of grace, so much higher than entire sanctification or holiness. So I went un claiming i)romises. qu.-nching the violence of fire, .-scaping the edge of th.- sword, out of w.-akn.-ss was made D8 Autobiography of strong, waxing valiant in fight, and reallj' turning to tiight the armies of the aliens. And so found out that there is no want to them that fear the Lord. But I did not feel led to make a special gospel of the great and deep things God had taught me. The Gospel of Jesus was so full and practical, and with good, common sense it seemed to cover all my need. Praise the Lord for that lesson. For I find, no matter what the state of grace attained to in this life, one may ever learn some new lesson. Learn to know one's own self. Learn to know one's weakness. Learn to know the beauty of love and power and sympathy of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. And so on. It was Saturday. I was very busy, as that is a busy day, especially with a washwoman. After T had swept my room I gave the dustpan to Mazie to carry out to the ash box that stood on the sidewalk. It was when I lived in the rear at 135 Amity street, New York. When she came in, she said, "O, ma, someone has thrown a lot of nice books into the ash box; some of them are almost new." She was very fond of reading, so she said, "May I bring some in?" **0h, no," I said, "Mazie; I have little enough room now, and I do not want any old books or trash brought in." But contrary- to my orders, the child slipped three of these books into the house, and hid tliL'm in the little closet on the shelf behind the smooth- ing irons. In the bottom of this closet, on the floor, I kept mj' coal. I could put in about two pailfuls, which was about a half bushel, at a time. So on Monday morning after prayers, Mazie had gone to school, I went to put some coal in the stove and then was going to gather my clothes. But I noticed that my irons were not back on the shelf in their place properly. So I went to arrange them, and found these books. " There," I said, " I told Mazie not to bring any of these books in; she has not obe^'ed me." But as I looked at them I said, "Perhaps I should not have told her 'no' until I saw them; for they really are almost new." I don't remember what the two were, but the third was a small-sized book, entitled, "Child's Book on Physiology." So I began to read it. I looked through it. As I read on, its explanations, simple and so beautiful, of the human body in all its parts, in a wa}' that any child could under- stand it, I got so interested that I sat down, though I was in such a hurry. After reading and thinking, I turned to the first page. Amanda Smith. 99 There was a cut of the human frame on the tiy leaf. As I looked at it and studied it, 1 said, "Surely, as the Psalmist says, ' Man is fearfully and wonderfully made.'" Now, in my inia^'inatit.n. 1 covered that frame with tlesh, and skin, and sinew, and bl(H)d, and i)ulse, and life. Then I got a pain, or rheumatism, in tin- left arm or back; and I said, "Now, there is a man suffering pain in his arm and back. I give him medicine in his mouth, and it must go all this round to reach that spot; when God, who made him, knows how to reach the difficulty direct." Now, all this was as I imagined. There was not a soul in the house but myself. So I said, lifting my eyes to heaven, "Oh! Lord, I will never take another bit of medicine while I live without you tell me to." And I got up and threw out all my medicines— I had a few simple remedies in the house — and for a year and eight months I never touched anything. Oh! what wonderful lessons the Lord taught me in that time. It did seem that He watched as a father would watch his child. Sometimes I would bring in a basket of clothes, and it would be so warm I would sit down between the window and doors so as to get the breeze quickly, and I would hear the Spirit whisper, as distinctly as a man, so gently, but clearly: " You are sitting in the draught." Often I have looked around to see if there was not really a person speaking. If I was prompt and moved, it was all right. But sometimes I would say, when the whisper came, "Oh, yes, but I'm so warm; " and I would forget, until I would feel a pain in my back, or neck, or somewhere. Then I would at once look up to God and say, "Now, Lord, teach me the lesson you want I should learn; and then^do please relieve me of this pain." Can you understand the patience and forbear- ance of God? I cannot. Sometimes He would bless me so; I would be so happy, I would whirl round and round and laugh and say, "Oh! Lord, how beautiful. I will never have to take any more medicine, and I can save the money that I spent for medi- cine for other purposes." But the Lord knew how to teach me, imiised be His name. So at the expiration of a year and eight months, it was in November, I think, I took a severe cold. 1 never knew how I got that cold, and if the grippe had been known then, as now, I would have said I had it in its severest form. I never thought of medicine. The Lord wasmy physician, and had done everything I had asked for myself and my child for a year and eight months, so of course He would now. So 1 prayed us 100 Autobiography op aforetime, but still grew worse. Oh! how dreadfully ill I was. But I held on. Oh! how I did cry to God for deliverance. For three days and nights I could not lie down, my cough was sc bad. I had a raging fever. My head ached, and every bone in my body ached. I still grew worse, until the morning of the fourth day. I tried to get my clothes on, but could not stand up long enough. •*Oh! what shall I do?" I went in my bedroom and knelt down by a chair. Oh! how I cried and prayed. "Oh! Lord, what is the matter? What have I done? Thou didst always heal me when I asked Thee; and now Thou seest I can hardly hold my head up, I am so sick. Oh! Lord, show me if I have done any- thing to displease Thee; make it clear to me, and forgive me, for Jesus' sake. Now, Lord, I will just be quiet till Thou dost speak to me and tell me what I have done, and why Thou dost not, heal me as Thou usest to do." So I waited a few minutes; I don't know how long; then it seemed as though the Lord Jesus in person stood by me; such a peaceful hush came all over me, and He seemed to say, so ten- derly. Oh! so tenderly, "Now, if you knew the Lord wanted you to take medicine would you be willing? " *'No, Lord, you always have healed me without medicine, and why not now? What have I done? " Then it seemed just as though a person spoke and said, " No, no, but if you knew it was God's will, would you be willing?" I said, "No, Lord; you can heal me without medicine, and I don't want to take it." Then the patient, gentle voice said the third time, "No, no," and putting the question a little differently, said, "If you knew it was God's will for you to take medicine would you be willing to do Ood's will? " Oh! how I cried. I saw it, but I said, " No, Lord, I don't like medicine; but Thou canst conquer my will. I do not want to live with my will in opposition to Thy will. Thou must conquer." Oh! what a battle. It took me one whole hour before my will went down. I held on to the chair, for I felt I must get up, but I said, "No, I will die right here." But I held right on to the chair, I said, " I will never rise from here until my will dies." And I knew when the death was given and when the victory came. I remained quiet, and thought it all over. And I said, " Lord, I thank Thee. Now tell me what I must do." For I felt if ihe Lord had said, "Now, you go over there on Sixth avenue to Amanda Smith. 101 the drill,' Store, and take all thr medicin.'. bottles and all," I was willing'! Oh: I was willin- all through! It seemed wonderfully sweet to die to my own will, and sink into God. So just then it came to me to use a simple remedy that I had used a thousand times before, and in twenty-four hours I was as well as ever. 1 never got over a cold like that before in my life in so short a time; a cold like that would always be a three weeks' siege. But 1 seemed to see what it all meant. God showed me. I was wor- shii)ing mv will. Sometimes when I have told this strange experience to some of the good people in these days, they throw up their hands in holy horror and say, " Oh! I don't see how you could dare to say so." But I see the same spirit of will-worship in many of those who profess what they prefer to call " Divine healing; " the same spirit of will-worship that I had. But I do not think they know it. r am at no controversy with anybody on these lines. But, Oh! how I do thank and praise God for opening my eyes to see, and I think, understand His will concerning Amanda Smith. I do not believe in calling the doctor for every little thing, or making a drug store of one's self; but I believe it right when you need medicine or doc- tor, to use both, prayerfully, and with common-sense, with an eye single. But to say the use of means in sickness is contrary to the will of God, and that all Christians should have faith and trust the Lord to heal them without the use of means at all, even though their common-sense, which is as much God's gift to us as any other blessing, tells them to use the means, but must close their eyes, ignore all symptoms, and by the force of will, which they must call "faith," ride over everything;- now this is where the tug of war comes in, with Amanda Smith. My neighbor i)rays, and is wonderfully healed; she is a Christian; so am I; we have both been blessed of God; I pray, and am not healed; someone tells me it is a lack of faith on my part, or there is something wrong in my consecration, or there is something wrong in me somewhere, and that is the reason I am not healed. Now comes the question: " How do you know that? Who told you so? " So that I must either stand judged, or else I must judge, and where do I get my authority for so doing? The Lord help me. Amen. The days of miracles are not past. God has healed without the use of means of any kind, as well as with; and why He do.-s iiot now heal every case as He used to do, I do not think I ha v.* any i'02 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP righ^ lo say is because of a lack of faith on the part of some poor, weak child of God; and so consign them to perdition. Then there are some things God would have us do for ourselves. Not long ago I was at the home of a good minister, a man that knew the Lord, and for years had walked in the light and blessedness of full salvation. He had begun to get deaf in his right ear; it came on gradually; sometimes worse than at other times. So he prayed earnestly, and believed God, and held on about a year. Finally he seemed to grow worse. His wife, a good, saved, orthodox, level- headed woman, had often said to him he ought to see a doctor about it. But he had a pretty strong will of his own, and did not yield easily to her persuasions. But she was gentle and patient. One morning as he was sitting in the room talking with me, she came in and said, " Now, my dear, you must really go and see the doctor this morning about your deafness; let him examine it; you are getting worse all the time, and it will never do to have you going around deaf." The good man looked at his wife, then he turned to me and said, smilingly, "Sister Smith, my wife is generally pretty clear when she decides upon a thing." "Yes, Sister Smith," she said, "it would do no harm to go and see about it, anyhow." "Sister M.," I said, "you are quite right; just what I say." So off he went. He was gone about two hours. When he returned, I said, "Well, Brother M., what did the doctor say?" "Oh! praise the Lord, " he said, "I am all right; clear as a bell." So he told the story, and laughed heartily. I said, "What did the doctor do?" " Oh," he said, " he told me to sit down and he would examine my ear; he said there was nothing serious the matter; the wax was very dry. So he took his instruments and took out about a thimbleful of wax, and put a little sweet oil or something in it, and it is all right." "Yes," I said, "praise the Lord. Some people would have teased the Lord to have Him clean out their ears, when they might do it themselves, or get someone to do it to whom God had given the sense and ability." CHAPTER IX. VARIOUS EXPERIENCES — HIS PRESENCE — OBEDIENCE — MY TEMP TATION TO LEAVE TOE CUUKCH — WHAT PEOPLE TUINK — SATISFIED. One day I was busy with my work and thinking and com- muning with Ji'sus, for I found out that it was not necessary to be a nun or be isohited away off in some deep retirement to have communion with Jesus; but, though your hands an- employed in doing your daily business, it is no bar to the soul's communion with Jesus. Many times over my wash-tub and ironing table, and while making my bed and sweeping my house and washing my dishes I have had some of the richest blessings. Oh, how glad I am to know this, and how many mothers' hearts I have cheered when I told them that the blessing of sanctification did not mean isolation from all the natural and legitimate duties of life, as some seem to think. Not at all. It means God in you, supplying all your needs according to His riches in giory by Christ Jesus; our need of grace and patience and long suffering and forbearance, for we have to learn how not only to bear, but also to forbear with infirmities of ourselves and others us well. I return to my story. Thus as I thought, I asked again, " I Nvonder why the Lord did not sanctify me fully when he justiti* d me? He was God, and He could have done it; He could have don.- it all at once if He had had a mind to." Then the question. " Well, why didn't He do it? " and 1 was blocked. I believe that question was from Satan; he intended to make me think unkindly of God. "Here you have been struggling all these years; God could have done it all at once; but why didn't He do it? " " YeS," I said, " that is so." " Well, why didn't he do it? " And I was so sad I began to cry and said, "Lord, I don't know why you did not sanctify me (103) 104 Autobiography of wholly when j'ou justified me freely; but I know you have not done it." Then the blessed Holy Spirit came so sweetly and answered my question by asking me another, "Why didn't Jesus make the blind man see the first time He touched his eyes?" After the first touch Jesus bade him look, and asked him what he saw. He said, *' I see men as trees walking." Then He touched him again and he said he^aw every man clearly. He was Christ with the same power in His first touch as He had with the second. He could have made the blind man see clearly the first time, but He did not. "Why," I said, " Lord, I see it, and it is none of my business why you didn't sanctify me fully when you converted me; it is enough for me to know that you have done it." I came into light and liberty praising the Trinity. I quit asking God ques- tions about His own work. I think it is impertinence, and yet how many do this very thing, and when they don't get an answer to satisfy themselves they become perplexed and then land in skepticism with regard to the whole doctrine and truth of this great salvation. One of the first things I discovered after I came into the blessed light and experience of full salvation was a steady and appropriating faith that I never realized before. I always be- lieved the Bible and all the promises, but I did not seem to have power to appropriate the promises to my soul's need; but after the light broke in and my darkness had fled, power was given me not only to believe the promises, but to appropriate them. "My! " I said, as I would read the promises, "that is mine, and that is mine; " and it was like when the sailors reef their sails; I took hold of them and wrapped them round me and walked up and down in possession of the land. All things are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's. I sang: "All things are mine, Since I am His — How can I keep from singing f** One day as I was busy about my room I seemed to feel the conscious presence of Jesus. I saw nothing with my eyes, but I seemed to be conscious of the presence of a Holy Being by me and around me, and I talked with Him, and I was saying, "Now, if anyone should ask me to tell the difference between justification Amanda Smith. 10a aiul saiictiticalion, how roiihl I tell them ? TIut"' is a ditft'n'ncr; I kin)W it; I feel it; but I dt)n't know how to tell it." And thr titar Lor(l Jesus seemed to answer my question by asking? another. He said: '* What is the ditference between sunlight and moon- liirht? " In a moment I saw it. I knew the beauty of the lovely inoonliirht. I had read by its brightness, and had often sewed at iiiirht, and it was beautiful. That was my justified state. How many times, I did not understand clearly, as in the sunlight; but the deept^r experience was in power'like sunlight in the natural world. It penetrates all the dark corners. H there is «>ven a small nail-hole in a door, or a crack anywhere, the sun finds it out and looks through; then it heats up everything all about it. There can be no frost where the sunlight is; but it is tropical all the time. There were deep recesses in my heart that the moon- light did not reveal, but when the great sunlight of sanctification came, how it seemed almost to eclipse the moonlight state of justification, save the abiding consciousness of the time when (Jod wrought that first work in my soul. I no longer sang the old hymn, "The midsummer sun shines but dim; The fields strive in vain to look gay, But when I am happy in Him, December 's as pleasant as May." That means two distinct states as real as the moonlight and sunlight. I knew it was true, but, O, why should there be a December in my heart when I" may have the beaming sun? When the Holy Ghost came to my soul in sanctifying power it was the inaugural of a perpetual May-day that shall go on increasing in faith, and light, and strength, and power, and thanksgiving, and praise, and rest, and peace, and triumph forever and ever and ever. Amen, Amen. How true this old hymn of Charles Wesley's: " I find Him in singing; I find Him in prayer; In sweet meditation. He always is there. My constant comi)anion, Oh, may we ne'er part, All glory to .Tt-sus. He dwells in my heart. 106 Autobiography op One day I was meditating and thinking upon His goodness. My heart was full of praise as I thought of all the Lord had done, and I said, *' Oh, I will not need to pray now, as I used to do." Just then these words came: "The children of Israel gathered manna fresh every morning." I said, "Yes, Jesus." I knew He meant to teach me that it must be daily bread my soul would need, and as my natural need was met each day, so my spiritual need must be met by prayer and the reading of His Holy Word and the appropriating of His promises. Without this all else would avail nothing. How I marvel at God's patience with me when I think how He led me about to teach me how to be obedient, in spite of all Satan's devices. I was working up town one day, as the lady wanted some blankets washed. The morning I was to go I had slept rather late. I was to have been there at seven o'clock. A long walk from Fourth street to Twenty-third street. I felt led to take some tracts. I always kept a lot on hand and would take them when I went out, generally looking over them so as to see and know just what I was giving away. This morning Satan seemed to hurry me. "You will be too late if you stop to sort the tracts." "Yes," I said, "I am afraid so." Then the Spirit would seem to say, " Take the tracts." Then I picked up a handful and began to look over them. Then I got so nervous. Satan said, " You know that lady will not pay you if you are not there at seven." " Yes," I said, "she is hard about money anyhow." So I laid the tracts down and started off, and it seemed to me I never saw so many opportunities where I could have given a tract as I did that morning. When I got to the house the lady said she would not have the blankets washed that day; I should come the next week. And I saw how Satan had hindered me. How sorry I was I did not listen to the good Spirit and take the tracts. God knew the washing was not to be done that day, and that is why He whispered so gently to my heart, "Take the tracts." I don't know who lost the blessing by my not giving them, but I know I lost a blessing by not obeying. O, it is so safe to obey even though it may be dark. A few days later on, I went, and as I had sorted my tracts, I prayed that the Lord would show me to whom to give them; and what a good time I had. I met a very fine looking Amanda Smith, 107 maji aiul as I lonkt-d at liim 1 tn'mhlnl; but as he dn-w n«^■l^ I saiil, "Now, Lord, help me." 1 had int-t somt- i-oNn-cd men and had ^;iv(Mi them some tracts and spoken a word, and the Devil said, "That is a whito gentleman, and he will curse yon." Bui when he came near I said, "Pardon me, sir; will vouhave a tract?" He seemed thorou^'hly astonished, but very pleasant and cour- teous. He t(x^k the tract and thanked me. A couple of weeks after, a friend said to me, " Did you give a tract to a younjx man on Sixth avenue last week?" "Yes." " Well," she said, " It was you, then. I was working for Mrs. A., and she told me that her son came home so happy and told her that a colored woman had given him a tract, and that ho had never read anything that had done him so much good as that tract." O, how the mother and son rejoiced together. Her dear boy that she had prayed for so long had found peace and joy in the Lord. How strange it should come about in the way iw did, but fJod moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform. On a little further, I passed two men; they were musicians. They stood talk- iiui, and as I came near them a deep feeling came over me to give those men a tract. My heart beat quickly, but just as I got near them they seemed to tliink what I was going to do, so they started and walked across on the side. I said, "Lord, if you want me to give that man a tract, if there is a word that Thou dost want him to have, make him cross the next corner back again." O, how I did pray! Sure enough he did cross over the next corner and met me face to face and took a tract, and thanked me and seemed deeply impressed. Praise God. At another time. One night I was crossing to Williamsburg on the ferryboat. I had a good religious paper in my hand, which had a good .sermon in it and some experiences. I said I will take this and give it to some one, men are more willing to take a paper than a tract. On the boat a nice looking lad sat just opposite me, and as I looked at him the Spirit said, "CJive him that paper." .\gain T looked and thought I will ijive it to him before we get out. Then something seemed to say, "Give it to this other man that looks more thoughtful." "No," it came to me, "Give it to that lad." I got up and handed it to him. He took it and threw it under- 108 Autobiography op neath tho bench. Then said Satan, "Now you have made a mis take, you would better have given it to the man." But I lifted my heart in prayer and said, " Now, Lord, if there is anything in that paper that Thou dost want that young man to know, make him pick it up. Lord, don't let him go out, make him pick up that paper." I continued to pray, and we were Hear- ing the shore. I saw the fellow was very restless. O, how I did beg the Lord to make him pick it up, I felt it had a word for him. Just as the boat struck the dock, he stooped down and picked up the paper and put it in his pocket and ran away. Just then the grand old text came: "If ye shall ask anything in My name, I will do it." (John 14:14). I think it was November, 1869. On my way home one evening from work, I met a friend on Sixth avenue. She said to me, "Smith, are you going to the Fair to-night?" " No," I said, " I am tired and shall not go." "I have two tickets, if you like to go Twill give them to you." " All right," I said, " If I feel better after I get home I will go. You know I never go to such places unless the Lord wants me to do something for Him." "Well, she said, "I wish you would go." I went to my home at thirty-five Amity street, and as I prayed and asked the Lord, it was very clear to me I was to go. It was a damp, rainy evening, and I would think, "Well, it is too damp and I will not go." Then it would come to me, "Go, take some tracts." I knew I would be criticised, fori had become a speckled bird among my own people on account of the profession of the blessing of holiness. Remarks would be made, "There is Amanda Smith, with her sanctification again." So I knew all that would be said, but I said, " Lord help me, and I will go for Thee. Tell me what Thou dost want me to do." I went in, and there were quite a number; all seemed to look at me, remarks passed, and then all went on as they would there. I walked about and spoke to several, then I sat down and lifted my heart in prayer, and said, " Lord, I have no business here, and why should I stay, make it clear what you want me to do;" and these words were spoken to my heart distinctly, " Go stand in the way." I got up and went and stood at the top of the stairs where the people were coming up. Several persons passed up, then came Amanda Smith. 109 two young men full of gl»'o. The Spirit st'cnicd to pick out one t'Spt'cialiy, and said, " Speak to that youiitc man " I did; he was respectful as he could be, but said it was lime enough for him, and with a toss of the head turned away. I handed some tracts to several others, then the Lord Sfomed to say, " You may go home." I went out, and felt that I had don«' as I was told, but how strange that I should not do anything but that. I went home and bore this young man up to God. This, I think, was on "Wednesday evening. On Saturday, as I was carry- ing .some clothes home, I met some one on Sixth avenue and they said, '* Did you hear that Charlie S. is dead?" "No." "Well, he is, he was found dead in his bed this morning; hf was at the Fair the other night, well and hearty." I went and looked at him. There he was, dead, no sign of sickness, and the very young man that God had sent me to speak to. He looked as though he were asleep. O, how sad it was, and yet how glad I was that I had strength given me that night to obey the Lord, and do as I thought He led me, whether the young man would hear, or whether he would forbear. I seemed to see the inconsistencies of the brethren and sisters so much more than I ever had before. I had seen some before, as I suppose most people do. I saw my own, and what the Lord had saved me from, and I wanted everybody to get saved right away. Brother Patterson was pastor of the Sullivan Street A. M. E. Church at the time I got the blessing. He enjoyed the experience and preached the doctrine. But colored people are like some white people; although the church prospered under his adminis- tration, and we had a wonderful revival during the two years, and the church was built up and edified, yet many of them did not like him. After he left. Rev. Nelson Turpin was sent to us. He was fierce. He openly opposed and denounced the doctrine and experience of the blessing of full salvation, although there were a number in the church, some among the leading members, who claimed to have the experience. He was very popular with the great mass. The church was crowded. Then we i)Oor .souls who dared to testify definitely in a Love Feast, or in a General Class, might expect a raking; and especially on Sunday nights, when the church would be crowded, he would take especial pains to tell some ridiculous inconsistency about some sanctified sister or 110 Autobiography op brother that he used to know. Then, if a sister, he -would say: •' They put on a plain bonnet and shawl and wear a long face, but they are sanctified Devils." Then all eyes would be turned on Sister Scott and myself, for we were about the only ones that dressed in the way described. Then there would be a regular gig- gle all over the house. How much I had to contend with. Hence my temptation to leave the church. Then I did not like fairs and festivals and all the rest of it. But God saved me from backslid- ing over any of those things. Then I was in bondage to my clothes; in bondage to other people's clothes. If they were not made just as I thought they ought to be it troubled me, and I did not care if I did not hear them speak and pray in prayer meeting. I had rather not kneel at communion with these dressed-up people. Then I was afraid of Brother Turpin. At first he was very kind; but after a little while he would always try to shun me. But I would follow him up, ask him to come to see me, and would go to see Sister Turpin and the children. But he would always be very formal and cold. My! how afraid of him I did get! So one day Mother Jones said to me, " Sister Smith, if I were you I would not say anything about sanctification. You see people do not like it, and they persecute you, and I do not like to hear them." "Well, but Mother Jones," I said, "the Lord has blessed mo BO, and I can't help it." Then she laughed and took hold of mo BO kindly, and said, "I would not say anything about it if I were you." So I went home and thought how Mother Jones sympathized with me. So I began to be very indefinite in my testimony. I chose words that the people would like. I would say, "I am all the Lord's." They would say, "Amen!" Or, if I said, "Jesus saves me fully," or "The blood cleanseth," they would say, **Amen! " to that. But if I used the word "sanctify," then there was a rustling among the dry bones. Then look out for the next testimony, especially if in a General Class or Love Feast. Thank God, He led my class leader, Henry De Shields, into the experi- ence in answer to prayer, just three weeks after I got the blessing. So while " Pop " Scott, who was assistant class leader, never came out clear. Brother De Shields was a power and a great help to myself, and to many. He still lives in New York, and at this writing is walking in the light of full salvation. Still, I Avas afraid of Brother Turpin. Then darkness came over me, and the joy Amanda Smith. Ill and peace all soemod to bo gone. I did not, know wluit ailed mr. So 1 set apart Friday to fast and i)ray, and find out the causr of lliis darkness. Satan suggested many tilings, but I held on and cried to God for light and help. So, about two r. m., though I had stopped my work and gone away and prayed a number of times that day, I took my Bible and knelt down to pray. And I said: "Oh! Lord, show me what is the matter. Why is this darkness in my mind? O! Lord, make it clear to me." And the Spirit seemed to say to me very distinctly, "Read." And I opened my Bible, and my eyes lighted on these words: "Perfect love casteth out fear. He that feareth has not been made perfect in love." Then I said: " Lord, if I am not, I will be now." Then I saw what was the matter. Fearl And I said: "Oh! Lord, take all the man- fearing spirit out of me. I thank Thee for what Thou hast done for me, but deliver me from fear. Take all the woman-fearing spirit out of me, and give me complete victory over this fear." And, thank the Lord, He did it. There was no especial manifestation, but there was a deep consciousness in my heart that what I had asked the Lord to do, He had done, and I praised Him. Then He came to me: "Will j'ou go uptown to Union Church on Sunday and tes- tify definitely?" *• Yes, Lord, if Thou wUt help me, and give mc Thy strength, and go with me, I will go." So there was a calm and peace in my heart. Union Church, uptown, was a colored church. There was not a member in it that believed in the doctrine of holiness; and from that church there had been great criticism in regard to my ]irofessing such a blessing Sunday morning came. The Love Feast was at G o'clock a. a.. I had been but once before. I got ready and went. My heart trembled, and my knees trembled. But I went on, and I said, "Now, Lord, heli) me, and I will go." I got in and sat down. The church was well filled. A number of strange ministers sat in the altar. Every eye was turned on me. After the meeting opened the testimony began. The min- isters urged everybody to be short, and in many of the testimonies there were remarks and insinuations tlirown out to me. I sat still and prayed. Oh! how I did pray. Tlvn theV began to get very noisy. They shouted and praised. I s;iid to the Lord; "Now, Lord, I will speak for Thee if Thou will make ijiese p<'ople be quiet. Lord, make them be quiet. I can't talk when there is a great noise, and Thou hast sent me here to speak for Thee, and I want the 112 Autobiography of people to hear. Lord, make them be still." Sometimes there would be three or four on the floor speaking at the same time. The ministers would urge them on, and say: " The Lord can hear you all. Don't wait on one another." But I prayed, "Lord, still them, still them." Then there came a pause. Then I got on my feet. Then they began to shout again, and they drowned me out. So I stood still, and prayed, " Lord, still the people." And He did. They calmed down so that when I began, there was not another one spoke. I began and quoted several passages of Scripture bear- ing on holiness definitely, and on God's promise of this grace to those who sought it, and how it was obtained by faith. And they listened. The ministers touched one another. I went on talking, and by and by I came to a point when it seemed a finger touched my tongue, and the power of God came upon me in such a won- derful manner that I talked, it seemed to me, about ten minutes. The people looked as though they were alarmed. The ministers who sat in the altar, and who had looked so critical when I came in, began to shout "Amen! Lord Almighty, bless that sister!" And then the fire seemed to fall on all the people. When I had finished, I sat down, feeling that I had delivered the message according to the will of the Lord. To His name be all the glory for the strength He gave me that day. Amen. Amen. One day Sister Scott called and was so happy. She told me some white sisters had been at her house, and had prayed and sung, and that they were full of the Holy Ghost. They were dressed so plain and neat. They belonged to the Free Methodist Church, uptown somewhere in New York. And they asked her to come to some of their meetings. "Oh! "I said, "why didn't you bring them to see me?" She said, "I told them I would bring you up to their church sometime." So on Sunday I went with her. It was about two miles from where I lived. We started early, and, of course, we walked all the way. We thought it was a dreadful thing to ride on the street cars on Sunday. And I think still we should not do it whenever we can avoid it. But I am not in bondage even in this as I once was. Praise the Lord! We got to the church. Mr. Mackey, who was so well known all over New York, was then ver}' popular and prominent in that church, and was a good friend to the colored people. For years he led meetings at the Colored Home in New York. When we went into t^e church he was there, and was so glad to see us. He shook hands, and seated us, and was so kind. Amanda Smith. 113 •'My!"l thought, " how nice these people are." For such treatment as that in a white church was not common for colored persons. Then the church was so very pretty and phiin. No Stained glass, or cushions, no pipe organ and quartette choir. Then the sisters were all so plain. So was I. For before I got the blessing I dressed Quaker style, because I liked it, and it was a matter of economy. Then the preacher that Sunday morning was a Mr. James, and he had no gold studs in his shirt, no rings un his lingers. His face was placid and bright. And wliat a st-rmon he pn'^iehed on Holiness. My .soul was fed, and I prayed to the Lord to put it in the heart of the minister to ask persons to join the church. I felt I must join this church. It was a true church. And that kind of preaching I had heard my father talk about that they used to hear forty years ago. Well, I prayed. Always before when I had prayed, from the time I had received the blessing, somehow the Lord had answered me so quick. But this morning He didn't seem to answer; and yet, now, I see it was an answer. For sometimes when the Lord denies a request, it's as much an answer as when He grants it. Though I had been a member of the African Methodist Church for years, I was willing that morn- ing to join without a letter, on probation. I said, " I can get my letter from my church, I know, but they will want to know all the reason why, and I don't want to tell. I just want to come into this church. These people seem so good! Just the right kind of people." So I prayed on. The sermon was finished. Then they had a prayer meeting, and Brother Irvin prayed. Oh! what a prayer. I shall ever remember it. He was well known, and a man of wonderful power. And I thought, "Will they close with- out asking if any one wants to join! I will get up and go and ask them to take me in. But then they will wonder why I have not brought my letter, and what will I say? The Lord help me!" And He did, but not as I wanted then, but as it is written, ** Ye shall know if ye follow on to know the Lord." The meeting did close, and no one was asked to join. But the friends gathrrrd around Sister Scott and me, shook hands, and said they were glad to see us. The minister shook hands and asked us to come again. They were all so nice. They shouted, and were so free, as the Free Methodists are. Brother Irvin came up to me, and gave me several tracts on the origin and doctrine of the Free Methodist Church. How that it separated itself on ::ccount of slavery and 114 Autobiography op secret societies. All this was new to me, but suited me exactly. Then he gave me a tract on plain dressing. Oh! how I did peruse that. Brother E. lived on Dominick street downtown, not a great way from where I lived, on Amity street. He had a week night class at his house, so he asked us to come. On Tuesday night I went. It was warm, and there stood on the table a pitcher of water, and every now and then someone of the brethren would shout, V Glory to God," then take a glass of water. Well, I thought it was dreadful. For I thought, "We don't do that. We can stay at class until it is out without drinking water." Then I thought it was wrong to use a fan. So I suffered from heat rather than fan myself when in church. Then they made so much unnecessary noise. Just what I didn't like in my own people. And I thought it would be different. But I had made up my mind to join this church. So the next week I went again and they were having a prayer meeting. They had a great big carman on his knees by a chair in the middle of the floor. A brother was on each side of him, one behind him, and another in front, and they were shouting and pounding and trying to make the man say he believed. ' ' You believe ! Say Halle- lujah." "Praise the Lord." Then they would say, "Amen!" Then they got up, took hold of the man, stood him on his feet and said, " Praise the Lord." But he was heavy, and would not say it. "Well," I said, "that's just what I find fault with my own people for. And these people are good people, but they have their failings, just like other people. So I might as well stay where I am." Then they told me there were no prejudices among them. That colored people were always treated well. And I was glad of that. So the next week I went again. Brother James led the class that night. He had thrown across his shoulders a very stylish shawl, such as gentlemen wore in those days, and in it was a very pretty steel pin and chain, which shone bright. "Well," I said, "I did not think Brother James would wear that." So a sister came in. When she saw Sister Thompson, whom I had got to go with me that night, and myself, she frowned and turned her back on us. " Well," I thought, " they say they have no prejudice. But she acts just like she had, anyhow. After all, perhaps I had better not join." Then a dear lady got up and gave such a beautiful testimony, Amanda Smith/ 115 and was so sweet in spirit. How lu-r testimony helped me. But, Oh! such a raking as Brother James gave her about her dress. She had on a plain fifty cent black straw bonnet, with a piece of black ribbon across the middle and a little bow on the side. Not a Hower, or a bit of color of any kind. She said. "Well, Brother James, I never thought anything about it. I just got the milliner to U.\ it up to wear to market, and I put it on." ! never thought anything about the bow he had so bitterly denounced. Hut he did not let her olT. He picked her testimony all to pieces. How I lelt for her. And I thought there was much more of self and si)irit in his manner and in the swell shawl and the steel pin and chain that swung about, than there was in the sister he raked so. Next he came to the sister who turned her back. She spoke short, and kept her back to us. When he came to me, I arose and said: ♦• I under- stood that you people have no prejudices against colored people." "Yes," Brother E. says. "Well, will it be right for me to speak just what I think?'* "Yes, certainly," said he. "We are Free Methodists, so you can speak your mind." "Well," I said, "I think you have the spirit of prejudice among you just like other people. I do not think I am mistaken, for the spirit of this meeting seems very clear to me." They had on the mantel three or four little stuffed birds. So I said, " I do not think it is right to have those stulfed birds there. The Bible says we are not to have pictures of anything in heaven, or on earth, or in the water." Well, I knew the quotation cor- rectly then. So after I had said this, Brother E. said, "Well, Sister Smith, God bless you. About there being prejudice, you are mistaken; but about the images, you are right." So then Brother E. led his wife, and he said to her, " You don't pray as much as you used to, I know. Often when I u.sed to be down town in my office I could tell when you were praying." Then he talked to her so before all the people. When he got through she got up and went upstairs and slammed the door after her. And I said, " Well, that meiin.s what I used to mean when I slammed the door after me." But still he did say a lot of things to her that I thought he ought to have said to her alone. So I said, " Well, these people are just like my own. So I guess I will not join." When we came out, one of the sisters came out with us. She 116 Autobiography o^ was a good sister. She went up to me, took hold of me, and said, •'Sister Smith, you are right about that prejudice part of it. That sister that 3'ou referred to has got prejudices, and she was so vexed, and she said to-night as she was coming she hoped the colored folks would not be there. She does not like it because they come." I said, "I knew I was right. But Brother E. does not know that, does he?" "Oh! no, she does not say it to them; but she has said it to me, and I know her." So I never went back again. Then Rev. Joshua Woodland was pastor of the A. M. E. Church in Brooklyn. He was a man of God, and preached the Gospel. So I said, ** As I cannot get real food for my soul in my own church, I will go to Brooklyn and join Brother Woodland's. Of course it will cost me something to go and come, but I will walk on this side and cross on the boat, and walk on the other side to church; and then a sermon once a week will help me, and I will still go to my class here in New York." So I prayed for light and guidance for three weeks. At last I said, one day, "Lord, show me by Thy Spirit through Thy Word, what I must do. Thou kno west I want to do Thy will only." And I opened my Bible, and as I looked, my eyes lighted on these words: " Fear not, stand still, and see the salvation of God." And there came a flood of light and peace to my heart. And I arose and praised the Lord. I never left the church, but I have seen sad results of many who have left and gone away. Some have done well, probably, but others have made sad failures. What a pity. I can call up a number of white people, young men and women, that I used to know in New York, and Oh! how they have failed in their lives, leaving one church and joining another. Thank the Lord he has kept me steady. Amen. It is often said too me, "How nicely 5^ou get on, Mrs. Smith: everybody seems to treat you so kindly, and you always seem to get on so well." "Yes; that is what you think," I said; "but I have much more to contend with than you may think." Then they said: "Oh, well, but no one would treat you unkindly." Then I said: "But if you want to know and understand properly what Amanda Smith has to contend with, just turn black and go about as I do, and you will come to a different conclusion." And I think some Amanda Smith. H'' people wouia u.ul-rslan.l tl... duintess.uce o! sanctifying grac. it Ihey could be black about lw,-nl)-fuur hours. ^\ e n.. .n Lau caster; I sat in the gallery The new muosler '-J ""^^ , T'" was his first Sunday. I lived at Colonel Henry McOraw s, on Lime street, and the church was about two squares from where 1 u!^ The colored church where I belonged and attended was quite a ways from our house. I always had a big dinner to cook on Sunday when Mr. McGraw was at home. He had a very dear W^d, Mr. James Reynolds, whom he always liked to have d.ne with him. I generally liked to go to church on Sunday morning, but it was too far tor me to go and get back so as to hav-e my din- ner in time. I was always very proud of being prompt with my dinner, so that often on Sunday I would only get out at night. This Sunday I thought I would go and hear the new minister. All the young people generally sat upstairs, and a colored person was to Ihem an object of game and criticism. I was careful to do nothing to provoke this spirit, but 1 generally got enough of .t 1 don't remember what the te.xt was; but O, how well 1 remember the power with which the preacher spoke, and the sweetness of his countenance. As he preached the Lord blessed me wonderfully, and I did want to shout "Pra.se the Lo^^". »"| I remember saying "I wish I was white, and would shou •Glory to Jesus.'" They did not look at white people "o remark about their shouting: for they did use to shout! 1 did not shout, but thought, "The willing mind is accepted according to what a man hath, and not according to what he "ath not And that was the only time in my life I ever wanted to be wh. e. But, praise the LordI I shout now whenever His spirit prompts^ No, we who are the royal black are very well satisfied Mth Is gift to us in this substantial color. I, for one, praise Him lor what He has given me, although at times it is very inconvenient. Fo, example: When on my way t" t;aliform» last January , a rear ago, if I had been white 1 could have stopped at a hotel, but 118 Autobiography ob* being black, though a lone woman, I was obliged to stay all night in the waiting room at Austin, Texas, though I arrived at ten p. m.; and many times when in Philadelphia, or New York, or Balti- more, or most anywhere else except in grand old historic Boston, I could not go in and have a cup of tea or a dinner at a hotel or restaurant. There may be places in these cities where colored people may be accommodated, but generally they are proscribed, and that sometimes makes it very inconvenient. I could pay the price — yes, that is all right; I know how to behave — yes, that is all right; I may have on my very best dress so that I look elegant — yes, that is all right; I am known as a Christian lady — yes, that is all right; I will occupy but one chair; I will touch no person's plate or fork — yes that is all right; but you are black! Now, to say that being black did not make it inconven- ient for us often, would not be true; but belonging to royal stock, as we do, we propose braving this inconvenience for the present, and pass on into the great big future where all these little things will be lost because of their absolute smallness! May the Lord send the future to meet us! Amen. At Ocean Grove a lady took me aside and said, "Now, Amanda Smith, I want to ask you honestly; I know you cannot be — ." "What now?" thought I. "I know you cannot be white, but if you could be, would you not rather be white than black? " *'No, no," I said, "as the Lord lives, I would rather be black and fully saved than to be white and not saved; I was bad enough, black as I am, and I would have been ten times worse if I had been white." How she roared laughing. She was all right, but I think she just wanted to test me a little bit. Yes, thank God, I am satisfied with my color. I am glad I had no choice in it, for if I had, I am sure I would not have been satisfied; for when I was a young girl I was passionately fond of pea-green, and if choice had been left to me I would have chosen to be green, and I am sure God's color is the best and most substantial. It's the blood that makes whiteness. Hallelujah! "The blood applied, I'm justified, I'm saved without, within. The blood of Jesus cleanseth me From every trace of sin." Amanda Smith. !!• Chorus— "There is power in Jesus' blood, There is power in Jesus' blood, There is power in Jesus' blood To wash me white as snow." "Many years my lonj^'inj;- heart Had sij^hed, had lon^n-d to know The virtue of the Saviour's blood, That washes white as snow." One day in New York I went into the Tuesday Palmer's meet- ing. A lady came in, and there was a very comfortable si-al by me, and after looking about for some other place she finally decided to take the one by me, but I saw she was uncomfortable. She fanned and fidgeted and fussed and aired herself till I wished in my heart she had gone somewhere else. Before the meeting closed I arose and spoke; the Lord helped me and blessed the people. At-the close of the meeting this lady turned to me so full of pleasant smiles, and said, "Oh, I did not know I was sitting by Amanda Smith; I feel myself highly honored." I looked at her and pitied her, but felt sick! I said in my heart, "From all hollowness and sham, Good Lord deliver us!" One day at Oakington Camp Meeting there was a lady 1 heard giving her testimony. She said, " I have come over five hundred miles^'to this meeting to get the blessing of entire sanctification. I believe it is my privilege to enjoy this experience, but I have not got it. 1 have read all the works on the subject and sought earnestly day and night, and yet I have not got the light." O, how I wanted to tell her it was not in the books. I arose to speak and tell her, as I thought the Lord wanted me to, but I was told to sit down, there were others who wanted to speak. I was a little sorry, for I was quite sure my desire to speak was the Lord's prompting; but I must needs learn obedience of the powers that be. Praise the Lord for the grace that enabled me to do so. Hallelujah! I also saw some things that were not what I called consistent with the profession of the sanctified life. It was unexpected, and I was young in the experience and was struck a little; but God saved me from backsliding from this principle, as many do when they meet with things in life that do not har- monize with the profession of holiness. There is much of the human nature for us to battle with, even after we are wholl} 120 Autobiography op AmaKda SMirtt. sanctified, so that we shall ever need the beautiful grace of patience. "For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.** He- brews, 10:36. CHAPTER X. •'THY WILL BE DONE," AND HOW THE srilUT TAUGHT ME ITS MEANING, ALSO THAT OF SOME OTHER PASSAGES OP SCRIP- TURE—MY DAUGHTER MAZIE's CONVERSION. It all came to me so clearly after I had received the baptism of the Holy Ghost. I saw that I had prayed from my earliest childhood this prayer, but had never understood it; but. Oh I when the Spirit revealed it to me I was so astonished that I had not seen It before. "Our Father," I said, "God is my Father. He has made me, and I am His child," How that word "Father" filled me with awe. "Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name." At these words a holy reverence passed through my whole being. "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven." Like the angels do it in Heaven. Then I thought, " How do the angels do God's will. Do they hesitate? Do they question? Do they shrink?" And I said "No." Swift, prompt, loyal obedience by angels, and I asked God that I may do His will on earth like angels do it in heaven. When I saw this, I covered my face and wept, and laughed; so simple, and so great! " Thy will be done." Oh! that word, and to say it from the heart. When you stand by your dear ones dying, with not two dollars for funeral expenses, with a husband and father away, and when he might have come, yet did not, with no one to go to, when the very heavens seemrd brass, and the earth iron, and you and your own body exhaust«'d from hard work and watching day and night, and with but little food to sustain the body, then to say," Thy will be done," from the heart, is more than all burnt offerings and sacrifice; and this prayer prayed from the heart, is what is meant by being entirely and wholly sanctified. I did not understand this when I first learned it, but the time came a few months after. (121) 133 Autobiography op Tho Lord took from me my dear little Will. He was the brightest and most promising of all the five children I had had, and when he was but three days old, I got on my knees by my bedside and consecrated him to God. I had not done so with the others, and I thought it was why the Lord took them away, but I did not know about consecrating children to God, only in baptism. Now I saw afterward there was selfishness in it, though I was really sincere. I did this, thinking the Lord would not take him. Then I promised I would train him prayerfully, and he should be a preacher of the Gospel. I said: " Lord, I give him to Thee, and I hold myself just as Thy servant, to raise him for Thee; he is not mine, I give him wholly to Thee, and now help me to raise him. When he is five years old I will have him reading, and I will work day and night to give him an education." When I got through with my prayer I arose and lay down again. He grew and thrived beautifully till he was five months old. Oh, how bright he was. He had had several little sick turns, but I never once thought he would die, because I had given him to the Lord so fully, and now the Lord will let me have him. One morning I had cleaned up my room, and had my tubs all ready to go to washing, for this I always did, so that my house was in order if any one should come in. The next was to give my baby his bath and make him comfortable. Just after I had done this and laid him down on the sofa, and emptied his bath, he seemed perfectly well and was crowing and so bright. His sister, Mazie, was getting ready for school, and was calling, saying: " Be good, Will, till I come back." All at once she called out to me: "Oh Ma, look at Will," and he was stiff in a fit, and there was froth on his mouth and he was black in the face. My kettle of wash water was on, and in a moment I had him another bath ready. I stripped him. There was no one to call, I never lost my presence of mind a moment. I put him in his bath. I did not forget to put in the water a handful of salt and a little mustard. I don't know how I did it, God kept me so still in my soul. He soon came out of his spasm when I put him in the warm water. The dear little fellow, the first thing he did was to look up and say, " Mama," and pat me on the cheek with his little hand. He seemed all right and I dressed him and laid him down and went to my washing. He slept and took hi.-: food as usual till several days had passed, then he seemed poorly and fretful, and I took him to a doctor; he pre- Amanda Smith. l"^-^ 8Crib«'d tor him and said ho wouhl be all right in a few days; but anothiT spasm. Then for five lonj,' wcoks I workrd and watchrd and novcr took otr my clothes, only to cliangc them. I did every- thing I could; had no one to help; had to do my washini,' between times as I could. It never entered my thouglits that he would die. One "Wednesday morning, I had been watching all night; he was restless, but I liad got him quiet about five o'clock in the morning. I stole away from him to finish hanging up my last clothes and finish my work. About six o'clock he awoke Jind cried, and I would call to him. and he would wait to see If I was coming and then he would cry again. I would say: "Hold on, Will, I am coming." Oh, how I worked! I had to work quick. When I got through I went to take him up. I found he had kicked off one of his little socks. I picked it up cheerfully and said, " Oh, Will, you have lost one of your boots, old man." When I went to put it on I saw his little foot was swollen on top. I knew what that meant; an arrow went through my heart, and I could hardly lift him from the bed. I tried to say, " Thy will be done," but I could not. I thought, " After all, the Lord is going to take him, and I can't say 'Thy will be done.' " I had heard of a wonderful doctor for children, a lady. I thought I would try this new doctor I took him in my arms, and when I got to the doctor's I could not speak a word. She looked at him and said to me, "You must not feel so bad, his eyes are bright, and I think he will be bett-i in a few days; " but I knew the sign of his feet was no mistake. I paid her one dollar, and a dollar and a half for the prescription, and had but fifty cents left; all I had in the world. I went home and did as I was told, but I could not say "Thy will be done." Oh! the agony of my soul. The Lord sent a dear friend in Minte Corsey. Oh, how glad I was she came. She lived at service and could only stay a day or two, but this was a great help to me. Friday morning came, still I could not say, "Thy will be done." I wanted to say it, and then I resolved that I would neither eat nor drink until I could, from my heart, say, " The will of the Lord be done'." It took me from Thursday till Friday afternoon about three r. m. I got the victory. While I was alone pleading with Ood for power to say, " Thy will be done," all at once my heart seemed to sink into a deep quiet, and 1 said, "Lord, Thou hast helped me, and I can say, * Thy will be done. " Oh, how sweet it was; it seemed to m*- 1 could 124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP taste it; it was sweet as honey; and a voice seemed to reason, ••Now, Amanda, you can have your choice, if you say the life of your child you may have it as easy as turning your hand," and I said, • Lord, Thy will is so sweet, I only want Thy will; ** and it came again, ••Whatever you desire it is only to say," and I said again, ••Oh, Lord, Thy will is so sweet, I only say Thy will be done." Then the joy sprang up in my heart. I was filled with joy, and I went out of that room saying, " Victory, victory, thanks be to Go.d, He giveth victory. Hallelujah! " This was Friday afternoon about four o'clock. About two o'clock the next morning little Will fell asleep in Jesus, in my arms. I washed the little body and laid it out myself; laid him on the little stand. No tears; God seemed to dry them up with joy! O, the greatness of His peace that passeth understanding! Saturday morning I don't know how I got my clothes home, but I did. 1 got a young man to go for my husband, who was at New Utrecht, not far from Brooklyn, N. Y. I had but two dollars, that had come in from my washing, and I wondered what I would do, but my husband would be home, and I thought I could leave that. Just then a flood of sadness seemed to fill my heart. I could not understand it. I was sick and weak, and I said it is because I have lost so much rest. I sent my little girl to tell some friends to come in, and they sent word it was Saturday and they were all busy, so no one came. I lay down a few moments, then I 'broke into a flood of tears. •' Lord, help me!" I said. About ten o'clock the young man came back, whom I sent to see my husband. He sent word he was sick himself, and could not come, and had no money. I felt I must sink. 1 said, "O, Lord, help me!" I was so weak I had to lie down three times before I could get properly dressed, as I must go out in the street. I thought I would go and see a lady with whom I used to live, away uptown, Fortieth street and Madison avenue. I thought if they could help me get my baby buried, I would ciean house to pay them again. While I was getting ready to go, my dear friend, Sister Nancy Thompson, who lived in Clinton court, near Eighth Street, sent a messenger to say I must come to her house at once. ••O," I said, • I can't, 1 must go uptown," but the child would not go without me. She said, •• Auntie Thompson says I must not come without you," and I went with the child. I thought after I had seen her. Mazie D. Smith. Amanda Smith. 12d then I would jxo on uptown. When I saw this dear friower." It was in the\vinter of 1869, in New York. We were holding revival services at Bethel Church, Sullivan street. Rev. Henry Davis, pastor. There were several young people in the Sabbath School who were converted. Mazie was, I believe, soundly con- verted. She gave evidences in her spirit and life for a time, though they were hard days for us then. She went to school, and had to work hard at home as well, which did not hurt her. She ]30 Autobiography ob^ always could sleep well; so many nights when I would be Mashing or standing ironing all night, she, poor child, could sleep. Satur- day generally was a hard day; she had to carry the clothes honie; we could not afford to ride, so she had to walk, often long dis- tances. I tried to help her in her religious life all I could. We always had prayers night and morning. We didn't read the Bible at night, but always in the morning, we read verse about; then we would sing a verse of a hymn; she was a fine alto singer; then I would pray. The third or fourth morning after she had been converted, I said to her; "Now, Mazie, the Lord has converted you, and you are very happy; and now if you want to be a real, growing and strong Christian, j'ou must learn to pray." "Well," she said," Ma, I do say my prayers; but I don't know how to pray." "Well," I said, "if you ask the Lord He will teach jou how to pray; so the sooner you begin the sooner you will get over the embarrassment, and the Lord will bless you. Now, there are only two of us, and alwa^-s when we kneel to pray I will expect you to pray first, and J. will follow. Then on Saturday night, when we have our little prayer meeting, no matter who is here, as soon as we kneel to pray, you pray first." She gave a little sigh; and then we knelt down, and she sighed again. I knew it was hard for her to begin, but I waited, and then another sigh; then in her childish way she begun to thank the Lord for what He had done'for her, and ask Him to teach her to pray; a very simple little prayer, but. Oh, so earnest. How happy she was. I knew she would be, if she would be praj'erful and obedient. The heavy cross was taken up. When Saturda}^ night came, a number of people, perhaps six or seven, came in to have a little prayer meeting. The Lord had made this clear to me, that I was to have a prayer meeting at my room for those who wished to draw nearer to the Lord. I never expected to do anything more than this. But after He had sanctified my heart it was beginning at Jerusalem; so at Jerusalem I did begin. And though the little prayer meeting was of short duration, yet God put His seal on it, and souls were blessed and saved. To God be the glory. Amen! Amen! My object in having Mazie pray first at this meeting, was, I thought after she had carried clothes all day, and done other work as well, that the child was very tired and sleepy, and she would likely fall asleep on her knees while others would be praying; and Amanda Smith. 131 I knew Iho a-ar Lord would not bhiin.- her for being wrary and Sleepy Of ours.', I. nrvrr told luT why I did it, so tliere was no Chance of h.r taking advantage of it. But, praise the Lord, He blessed hei .nd strengthened her. She Si-emed to get on nicely; f->r-he lov d the Sabbath School, and was a bright, active scholar, both in New York, and Philadelphia, where she joined at Allei: Ciiip.'l, Rev Mr Whitney, pastor. As she had stood so well 1 thought th re would br no danger of her being influenced at a Catholic ['•^hool. And then they told me she could have her Bible „nd Uvmn Book just the same; and so she did take them with hrr, but they very quietly took them away from her after she was llicre a while, and said they would take care of them for her, and rr-iv- her such a nice book that she would like to read, about some good saint or sister; and as she was so fond of reading she accepted I* -U once. But she never saw her Bible or Hymn Book again till Bhe left. Sending mv daughter to this school was a serious mis- lake, on my part, and one that is iliade by many parents who are if norant, as I was, of the subtlety of Rome. CHAPTER XI. MY CALL TO GO OUT — AN ATTACK FROM SATAN — HIS SNARE BROKEN — MY PERPLEXITY IN REGARD TO THE TRINITY — 'MANIFESTATION OP JESUS — WAS IT A DREAM? It was in November, 1869. God had led me clearly up to this time confirming His work through me as I went all about — some- times to Brooklyn, then to Harlem, then to Jersey City. All this was among my own people, and our own colored churches, though I often went beside to old Second Street, Norfolk Street, Willett Street, Bedford Street, and to different white Methodist churches, to class meetings and prayer meetings; but very little with white peopl-e, comparatively. The most I did was among my own people. There were then but few of our ministers that were favor- able to women's preaching or taking any part, I mean in a public way; but, thank God, there always were a few men that dared to stand by woman's liberty in this, if God called her. Among these, I remember, was Henry Davis, Rev. James Holland, Rev. Joshua "Woodland, Rev. Joseph H. Smith, and Rev. Leonard Patterson, and others — but it is different now. We have women deaconesses, and leaders, and women in all departments of church work. May God in mercy save us from the formalism of the day, and bring us back to the old time spirituality and power of the fathers and mothers. I often feel as I look over the past and compare it with the present, to say: "Lord, save, or we perish." As the Lord led, I followed, and one day as I was praying and asking Him to teach me what to do I was impressed that I was to leave New York and go out. 1 did not kiiow^ where, so it troubled me, and I asked the Lord for light, and He gave me these words: " Go, and I will go with you." The very words he gave to Moses, so many years ago. I said, " Lord, I am willing to go, but tell me where to go and (132) Amanda Smitu. 133 I will obey Thee;" and clear and plain the word came, "Salem! " I said, "Salem! why, Lord, I don't know anybody in Salem. O, Lord, do help me, and if this is Thy voice speaking to me, make it plain where I shall go." And again it came, " Salem." " O, Lord, Thou knowest I have never been to Salem, and only have heard there is such a place." I remembered that five years before while living in Philadel- phia, 1 was at Bethel Church one morning, and the minister gave out that their quarterly meeting was to be held at Salem ihe next Sunday. 1 could not go— I was at service— this was all that I had heard about Salem, or knew. I said: "O, Lord, don't let Satan deceive me, maknd back to her former friendship — it seemed it was not what the Lord wanted me to do, but why had this darkne.ss settled down over my spirit. I said, "O Lord, help me!" I did not seem able to pray, I seemed to have no spirit in me. Yet I could not fvo\ any clear condemnation, but, O, what a state I was inl I knew I had nt)t taken anything back from God of my consecration, but, O, what was the matter with me, I could not tell. Other times when 1 would have these trials my friend would come and wo would pray together and get deliverance, but now, not a' soul to help me, and I could not prevail. There are times when one needs help to prevail with God, but I had no help, and the Devil said, "You see, if you were sanctified fully, you would be able to pray, but you have grieved the Spirit in some way, and this is why God don't answer you." O, how real it all seemed, and yet somehow I knew it was not so. I was afraid to tell anyone. Satan said, " If you tell anyone they will think you have backslidden, you never heard of anyone who was sanctified having darkness like that." "No, I never did." So I went to meetings, and talk<'d what I knew of the bright side for fear the people would think I hasition: "Now, if you are wholly sanctified, why is it that you have these dull feelings? " I began to examine my work, my life, every day, and I could see nothing. Then I said, "Lord, help me to understand what Thou meanest. I want to hear Thee speak." , , ^ Brother Gould, then pastor of the Fleet Street Church, took his text. I was sitting with my eyes closed in silent prayrr to God and after he had been preaching about ten minutes, as 1 opened my eyes, just over his head I seemed to see a beautiful star, and as I looked at it, it seemed to form into the shape of a large white tulip; and I said, "Lord, is that what you want me to see? If so, what else?" And th.n I leaned back and closed my eyes. Just then I saw a large letter "G." and I said: "Lord do you want me to read in Genesis, or in Galatians? Lord, what does this mean?" 148 Autobiography of Just then I saw the letter "O." I said, "Wh}, that means go.'* And I said "What else?" And a voice distinctly said to me "Go preach." The voice was so audible that it frightened me for a moment, and I said, "Oh, Lord, is that what you wanted me to come here for? Why did you not tell me when.I was at home, or when I was on my knees praying?" But His paths are known in the mighty deep, and His ways are past finding out. On Monday morning, about four o'clock, T think, I was awakened by the presentation of a beautiful, white cross — white as the driven snow — similar to that described in the last chapter. It was as cold as marble. It was laid just on my forehead and on my breast. It seemed very heavy; to press me down. The weight and the coldness of it were what woke me; and as I woke I said: "Lord, I know what that is. It is a cross." I arose and got on my knees, and while I was praying these words came to me: "If any man will come after Me let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me." And I said, •* Lord, help me and I will." I did not know that I was so unwilling. But the Lord had showed me when I was at Oakington Camp Meeting in July, 1870. Thgre was a gentleman there who lived at Espa, Pa. He made me a good offer, to give me a home in his family, as servant, as long as I lived, my little girl and myself. He said that his family was small; only himself and wife, and one son, a beautiful young man, who was with him at the meeting, and who also, with his father, urged me to go. He said his house was quite new, newly fitted up with all the modern improvements, and that he had a very nice colored man and family on the place, who was his farmer, and who was a good Christian man, and a local preacher, and that they held in his own house a holiness meeting once every week, so that I would not be lonesome; and as he had been asking the Lord about a person, he felt, and thought, I was the very person that would suit them, and he wanted me to break up housekeeping and come to live with them right away. I kept a small room in New York for myself and little girl. He was a grand, good man, and talked so very nice, and it did seem at first glance that it was right I should do so, and I almost decided to go. But before I did decide, I spread it before the Lord, and asked the assistance and direction of His Holy Spirit, Amanda Smith. 149 and I soon found out that it was not the will of the Lord for me to confine myself as a servant in any family, but to ^'o and work in His vineyard as the Spirit directed me. ThistheLord had made very plain to me once before. I worked out by the day and had a preat deal to do, till the families I worked for went away out of the country, and the work got slack, and I had but one day out of the w<'ek, and that was at Sister Clark's, on Dominick street. So when my work was slo[)i)ed, my revenue was stopped. I was reduced down to thirteen cents; and I did not know what to do. The enemy said t(i me, "You will keep on talkinfj about trusting the Lord, and you will have to beg before you are done with it." "It is none of yoiir business," I said, " if I do. I belong to the Lord, and if He wants me to beg I'll do it." And he left me a little while. But after a time he returned, and said, " You had better go to service and come home at night." And I thought, "I could do that. My little girl goes to school, and when she was out she could come to where I was and stay till night, and then go home with me." While I was thinking about it, my friend. Sister Scott, sent for me to go somewhere to work, but she had made a mistake in the number where I was to go, and I did r.ot find it. I saw after- wards it was all the Lord's doings. I walked up and down for an hour. I went to the place with the number she gave me, but no such person lived there. On my way back I met a girl looking ft)r a chambermaid in the family where she lived. She wanted me to go and see the lady at once; but I said, "No, if I do go now the lady will want me to decide when I can come." "Oh, yes," said she, "for she wants some one right away." "Well, I must ask the Lord first." I went home and got down on my knees, and I said: " Oh, Lord, I am willing to go to service if Thou sayest so. But, Lord, Thou knowest I so love the Sabbath day, and if I .go to service it will be taken from me." Then these words were given me: " My grace is sufficient for you. If you trust Me you shall never be confounded." " Now, Lord," I said, " for the evidence that I am not to go to service, send some one for me to go to work by the day." And a little while afterward a little boy came and.suid that his mother had sent him to see if I could come ue.vt day and wash; 150 Autobiography of and I said, "yes," and I had the evidence that I was not to go to service. I had but thirteen cents of money in the world. My little girl was at school, and when she came home the first thing she would say was, " O, Ma, I am so hungry; have you got any bread? " So I had done without any dinner, and saved the piece of bread I had, so that when my child would ask me for a piece of bread I might have it to give her. I thought I couldn't stand it, to have her ask for bread and have none to give her; so, though I was very hungry, I did without. The grocer's name was Mr. Otten. His store was on the corner of Mannetta Lane and Sixth avenue. I always dealt with him. I never got an^'thing on trust. When I had the money I would get what I needed, and pay for it. When I didn't have the money I would do without it. So I took the thirteen cents and went to Mr. Otten's store, and said to him, "Mr. Otten, I will tell you what I want; I want a loaf of bread, I want a quart of potatoes, I want three slices of salt pork, and I want a bundle of wood, and this is every cent of money I have between me and death." I showed him my money before I got the things. He looked at me. "Well," he said, " thirteen cents is not money enough to pay for what you want." "I know it, but that is what I want, and that is all the money I have." And then he looked at me, and went and got the things and gave me back three cents. Oh! how I praised the Lord. I hastened home. I made a nice little stew for dinner for Mazie and me. I was expecting this to last me a week. I didn't intend to eat much myself; I thought I could do without, but my child must have enough; and I had a faculty of piecing out a little to make it go a good ways. Well, the next day I went to where I was to do the washing. It was not far from where I lived. I knocked, and the lady opened the door. She was a very rough, coarse woman. I said, "Good morning, Madame." " Good morning. Are you the woman that's come to wash? " "Yes, Madame." " How much do you charge a day? ' "Well, Madame, I don't know, I believe the general price is one dollar and twenty-five cents." "Well, " she said, "I'm not going to pay any such price as that. " Amanda Smith. 151 "Well," I Siiiil. "M;i(l;imr, ;i dollar, then, I Siippos.'." " No, I won't pay a dollar. It is a three weeks' washing', but I tan ^'et it done cheai)er than that." "Well," I said, "Madame, seventy-five cents, if it is a three weeks' washing it ought to be worth seventy-five cents." "Well," she said, "I'm not going to pay that. I can get it done for fifty cents." So 'she turned and went away, and I said, "Good morning, Madame." And just as I was crossing out of Fourth street into Sixth avenue, how Satan assailed me. I trembled from head to foot. He said, " Now you have been asking the Lord for a day's work, and the Lord has given you this work and you have refused it." Th had never put them up, and they were all lying on the floor. I told her no matter for that; I could sleep on the floor just as well. No, she did not have room. She could not possibly do ii. Well, I stayed till it was pretty dark, Itwasafler si.x o'clock. The more I talked the more she pave me to see that she was not going to ask me to have any cabbage, or to stay all night. So I said to her, " Will you tell me where Brother Cooper, the minister, lives? " "Oh, yes," she said, " I will send one of the chidren with you." When I got to Brother Cooper's I knocked, and Brother Cooper came to the door; he was an awful timid man; so he stood at the door, holding it half open and leaning out a little ways, and asked me who I was. "I told him that I was Amanda Smith; that the Lord sent me to Salem. Then I went on, standing at the door, telling him how the Lord had led me, and all about it. His wife, who was a little more thoughtful than he, heard me, and she called out to him, and said, " Cooper, why don't you ask the sister to come in." So then he said, "Come in, Sister." I was awful glad, so I went in. Sister Cooper was getting supper. The table was set, and I thought, "Maybe, I will get something to eat now." So I went on and finished my story, and they seemea to be greatly interested; and when the supper was quite ready, she said, "Will you have some supper, Sister Smith? " I thanked her, and told her I would. While I was eating my supper who should come in but good Brother Holland, that had been on the boat. He said to Brother and Sister Cooper, " I am glad you have Sister Smith here. You needn't be afraid of her, she is all right; I have known her for years. I have not seen her since I was pastor at Lancaster." Then they brightened up a little bit, and seemed to be a little more natural. My heart was glad. It was quarterly meeting, and Brother Holland was to preach in the morning and Brother Cooper in the afternoon. So Brother Holland said, as In- was Presiding Elder, I might speak at night and tell my story ••All right," I said. 156 Autobiography of A/tor a little talk, Broth(>r Holland left. Sist.T Coopor said she would be very glad to have me stay all night, but they had no room. They had not been long there, and had only fitted up one room for their own use. They thought they would make out with that for the winter. So then I was obliged to walk a mile and a half back to Sister Curtis'. I did hate to do it, but the Lord helped me. So I stayed that night at Sister Curtis', and she gave me a little breakfast on Sunday morning, but it was mighty skimpey! But I found out that a good deal of praying fills you up pretty well when you cannot get anything else! On Sunday morning we went to Love Feast, and had a good time. Prior to this I had been asking the Lord to give me a message to give when I went to Salem. I said, "Lord, I don't want to go to Salem without a message. And now you are sending me to Salem, give me the mes- sage. What shall I say?" Two or three times I had gone before the Lord with this prayer, and His word was, " It shall be made known to you when you come to the place what 3'ou shall say." And I said, "All right, Lord." So I didn't trouble Him any more till this Sunday morning. The Lord helped Brother Holland preach. When he got through preaching and the collection was taken. Brother Cooper made the announcement that I was there; he said, " There is a lady here, Mrs. Amanda Smith " (he had never seen me before or heard of me, and he was a rather jovial kind of a man, and in making this announcement he said, in a half sarcastic and half joking way), "Mrs. Smith is from New York; she says the Lord sent her; " with a kind of toss of the head, which indicated that he did not much believe it. Oh, my heart fell down, and I said, "Oh! Lord, help. Give me the message." The Lord saw that I had as much as I could stand up under, and He said, "Say, 'Have ye received the Holy Ghost since ye believed?'" (Acts 9:2). That was the message; the first message the Lord gave me. I trembled from head to foot. A good sister took me home with her to dinner. The people all seemed very kind. I felt quite at home when I got with them. We came back in the afternoon and had a wonderful meeting. At night after Brother Holland had preached a short sermon, he called me up to exhort. As I sat in the pulpit beside him, he saw I was frightened. He leaned over and said, " Now, my child, you needn't be afraid. Lean on the Lord. He will help you." Amam)a Smith. 157 And H.' did h«'lp me. There was a large congrepjation. The gallery was full, and every part of the house was packed. I sIckkI up trembling. The cold chills ran over me. My heart seemed to stand still. Oh, it was a night. But the Lord gave me great lib- erty in speaking. Aftrr 1 had talked a little while the cold chills stopped, my h«'art began to beat naturally and all fear was gone, and I seemed to lose sight of everybody and everything but my responsibility to God and my duty to the people. The Holy Ghost fell on the people and we had a wonderful time. Souls were con- victed and some converted that night. But the meeting did not go on from that. Thursday night was the regular prayer meeting night. Brother Cooper said I was there, and would preach Thursday night. He was going to give me a chance to preach, and he wanted all the people to come out. There was no snow, but Oh! it was cold. The ground was frozen. The moon shone brightly, and the wind blew a perfect gale. One good thing, I did not have to go back to Sister Curtis'. Another good sister asked me to her house to stay. She made me very comfortable, but said I would have to be alone most of the day, as she was going to some of the neighbors to help with the butchering, as they do in the country. I was very glad of that, for it gave me a chance to pray. So I fasted and prayed and read my Bible nearly all day. Oh, I had a good time. And then I thought I would visit a neighbor near by, another friend. So I did; and this was a good old mother in Israel. I told her a little of my experience, and then I told her the message the Lord had given me to speak about, and how it would lead to the subject of sanctification. "My child," she at once said, "don't you say a word about sanctification here. Honey, if you do, they will persecute you to death. My poor husband used to preach that doctrine, and for years he knew about this blessing. But, Oh! honey, they perse- cuted him to death. You must not say a word about it." Well, there I was again! So I went home, and the next d^iy I prayed to God all day. I asked Him to give me some other mes- sage. H this message was going to do so much damage, I did not want it. But no, the Lord held me to it. Not a ray of light on anything else but that. I didn't know what to do, but I made up my mind it was all I ever would do, so 1 would obey God and take 158 Autobiography of the consoquencos. I thought sure from what the dear old mother told me that the results would be fatal; I didn't know but I would be driven out. But not so. "Obedience is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams." Thursday was a beautiful, bright day; but Oh! cold, bitterly cold. So I got down and prayed and said, "Lord, Thou hast sent me to Salem, and hast given me the message. Now for an evidence tiiat Thou hast indeed sent me, grant to cause the wind to cease blowing at this fearful rate. Thou knowest Lord, that I want people to hear Thy message that Thou hast given me. They will not mind the cold, but the wind is so terrible. Now cause the wind to cease to blow, and make the people come out." The wind blew all day; all the afternoon. I started to go across the field, about a half mile from where I was, to talk and pray with a friend. On my way back, about five o'clock, as T was crossing a ditch which ran through the field, bordered on either side by a row of hedge trees, and a little plank across it for a kind of a foot bridge, the wind wrapped me round and took me down into the ditch. I could not hold on, could not control myself. I expected to be thrown up against the trees, and I cried out to Him all alone, "Oh! Lord, Thou that didst command the wind to cease on the Sea of Galilee, cause this wind to cease and let me get home." Just then there came a great calm, and I got up out of that ditch and ran along to the house. By the time we went to church it was as calm as a summer evening; it was cold, but not a bit windy — a beautiful, moonlight night. The church was packed and crowded. I began my talk from the chapter given, with great trembling. I had gone on but a little ways when I felt the spirit of the Lord come upon me mightily. Oh: how He helped me. My soul was free, The Lord convicted sinners and backsliders and believers for holiness, and when I asked for persons to come to the altar, it was filled in a little while from the gallery and all parts of the house. A revival broke out, and spread for twenty miles around. Oh! what a time it was. It went from the colored people to the white people. Sometimes we would go into the church at seven o'clock ' in the evening. I could not preach. The whole lower floor would be covered with seekers — old men, young men, old women, young women, boys and girls. Oh! glory to God! How He put His seal Amanda Smith. 159 on ilus first work to cncourafjff my licart and t-stahlish my faith, that He indeed had chost'ii, and ordained and sent me. I do not know as I have ever seen anything to equal that first work, the first seal that God gave to His work at Salem. Some of the young men that were converted are in the ministry. Somr h.ivc died in the trium|)h of faith. Others are on the way. I went on two weeks, day and night. We u.sed to stay in the church till one and two o'clock in tin- morning. People could not work. Some of the young men would hire a wagon and go out in the country ten miles and bring in a load, get them converted, and then takf them back. One night I was so weary they said they would get on without me, and I could have a rest. A Mr. HufT had asked me to go to his house. Two of his sons had been converted. He had been a member of the church, but had got cold and backslidden. His wife was pretty much in the same condition. They had three younger children, ten and thirteen years of age. So I went to their house to have a rest. Before we went to bed that night we had family prayer. They had got out of the way of that, Mrs Hutf told me. She had got stirred up, so was anxious about her hus- band. I read the Bible and explained the Word the best I could; then I sang; then I got down to pray. There was a young man by the name of Williams, Mr. Hutf's nephew, about twenty-one years of age, with them at the house. We knelt down to i)ray. I told Sister Hutf she ought to pray in her family. Poor thing, she had prayed so little for a long time, it was rather hard; but she did. After she prayed, I sang a verse, then prayed. Archir Hurt", the son, had been converted two or three days before, won- derfully, I asked him to pray. So he prayed, as a young convert, simply and earnestly, though he was very hoarse; but the Lord helped him. When he got through praying I sang another hymn; and by that time old Mr. Hutf had tumbled over on the Hoor and was i)raying out loud for the Lord to savi- him; so I began to pray; and while I was praying, the young nephew, Williams, fell out and shook the house. And there we were. And while these two brethren were praying, and Archie and I were praying, and the old woman was praying, (as it was out in the country we didn't whisper at all; we talked right out), these younger children, a little girl ten years old, and the boys, twins, about thirteen years old, gt»t converted. The little girl was sitting up at the op{X)Site 160 Autobiography of side of the room (her mother had put her to bed), praying for the Lord to bless her. The two boys had got up and come down, and they were praying that the Lord would bless them. I said, " Oh, Lord, what will I do? I have no help but Thee onlj-. Help, Lord!" I thought if I only had somebody to sing; but there was nobody — only Archie and I; and we had got so hoarse that we could not do much. But it was beautiful just to see God do it all! The whole five of them were converted that night. Oh, what a time. And so we were into it till about twelve or one o'clock. Then I slipped off and lay down a little while. The news got out through the neighborhood, so they sent for me to come to another house next day, about a mile and a half away. Old man Huff hitched up his team, and he and his nephew and Archie and I went over to the neighbor's This man was a very moral kind of a man. He had been seeking the Lord, but he had got a little discouraged, so they thought if I would go and talk to him it would help him. I thought " I will have a quiet time over here." T got there about four o'clock in the afternoon. We talked and had a pleasant time, and had supper; and I thought we would have prayers after awhile. Well, about eight o'clock one or two persons came in, neighbors; that made five or six of us. "Dear me," I thought to myself, "I have not strength to talk any longer, so I will just give out a hymn, and we will sing and have prayers." So I did, and we got down to pray. I asked somebody to pray. While we were praying, three or four more came in. When we got through that prayer some one else struck in, and two or three more came in; so we had twelve or thirteen persons, packed in like sardines in a box. And pretty soon this man that had been seeking, cried out for salvation. Oh, how he prayed! It was not long till he began to believe; and what always follows earnest faith is victory. When he shouted victory it struck terror to the others that were not converted, and that night there were five or six converted in that house. Oh! what a victory! Next day we visited round through the neighborhood. How the shouts of praise and hallelujah to God seemed to be every- where we went. So T went back to church, for I did not get any rest there, and we went on two or three v/eeks longer. From there I went to Millville, N. J., with similar results. I remember one Amanda Smith. 161 ni-IU at Millvillr. aft.T Brother Leonard Patterson had prearhrd, ht^said 1 was to take the services and fe'o on ind.-li.iilely. There had been some little misunderstanding between two or three of the members, so there was not a very good feeling existing all around; and while we had good meetings, we would come right up to a point and stick. So aft(>r I had gone on three or four ni.rhts I proposed to have a day of fasting and prayer, which they all^ruite readilv agreed to. I said: " Now, I don't want anybody to promise to fast that cannot; some people cannot stand it; but just vou who think you can fast one day, and pray to God for the outpouring of His Spirit — I want you to stand up." Among those who stood up was an old Broth.-r Cooper; they called him " Father Cooper." He had enjoyed the blessing of sanc- tification for about forty years. Oh, what a grand man he was! When that old man prayed, something gave way. There were several old brethren that 1 did not expect would fast at all. So Father Cooper got up and I said: " Brother Cooper, you cannot stand it. I don't mean you." "Oh." he said, "Honey, I don't mean to let the children outrun me." Another old man got up and said: " No, indeed, the children can't get ahead of me; I'm going with them." So one or two of the sisters and I visited from house to house. We prayed and talked and sang. I was led to visit two white families. Ihey were poor people. The Devil tried to scare me; told me they were Roman Catholics, and would put me out. I had quite a littlr struc'crle, but finally I got victory and went. I do not know whether theywere Roman Catholics or not; but the Lord helped me to speak to them and pray. One woman was so glad; she had a sick child. I talked to her and comforted her. That ni^'ht when we came together the Lord helped me to speak to them, and He sent His Spirit. When I asked them t« come- forward to the altar, those that were seeking purity, and those that were seeking pardon, I asked Father Cooper to h-ad u. prayer. I shall never forget that prayer. I seem to see it all, and hear it yet. Then' were two that had been leading sisters in the church, that did not speak to each other, and were neighbors, were stand- ing in prws close to each other. They did not come forward to the altar wIlm the others cam.-, but I saw thr Spirit of the Lord 162 Autobiography of had hold of them; and while Father Cooper was praying, the Holy Ghost fell on the people, and these two sisters were struck by the power of God like lightning. One of them walked out of her seat and went over to the seat of the other and shook hands and wept, and one of them, a few minutes after, whirled over the back of the seat and down on the floor, and she walked on her back clear down the aisle up to one side and into the altar. I think if anybody had told her to do it she never could have done it. It was a marvelous time. I have never seen anything like it before or since. There was one man that had been seeking the Lord for eight years. Everybody thought he was converted. He lived with his mother, who was a widow. Everybody, white and colored, liked and respected him. He was a good man, always went to church, and so the people said he was converted; but he did not know it. So when they told me this a day or two before the day of fasting and prayer, I had this man, with some others, specially on my mind. After this great victory, we worked till about eleven or twelve o'clock. I said, "Well, we will take up these who are seeking. We will just have them rise now." We colored people did not use to get up off our knees quick like white folks; when we went down on our knees to get some- thing, we generally got it before we got up. But we are a very imitative people, so I find we have begun to imitate white people, even in that. The Lord help us. This poor young man got up and put his overcoat on, and he was sitting down and looking so sad, as though he was nearly heart-broken. I had talked and prayed and tried to help him all I could; and there never was a soul prayed more earnestly and sincerely than he did. But there he stuck. I stood and looked at him for a moment. O, how they sang. At last I went up to him and said: "Look here, Charlie D,, why don't you let go and .shout?" "Oh!" he wept, "Lord save me! " "Well," I said, "The Lord does save you; but you won't believe Him." And I said, " Let go and shout!' And the Spirit of the Lord seemed to fall upon him, just like you would sprinkle hot coals on any one. He sprang to his feet, and the light went all over him like fire, and it seemed as though he would tear himself to pieces for a minute. "Oh," he said, "I have found it, I have found it, I have found it! " Amanda Smith 163 This sont a thrill through the whole church, and again then- was a shout; such a shout you never heard nor saw. It was ahout one o'clock before we got out that ni^'ht. I shall never forget that meeting at Millville. Praise the Lord! He does all things well. Amen. Amen. CHAPTER XTTT. MY REMEMBRANCES OP CAMP MEETING — SECOND CAMP MEET- ING — SINGING — OBEDIENCE IS BETTER THAN SACRIFICE. My first national Holiness Camp Meeting was at Oakington, Maryland, July, 1870. When I saw the notice in the paper of this meeting, I thought I would like to go. But then I was a poor washwoman, and how could I go? I went to do a few da^s' work for Mrs. Margaret Clark, when she lived on Dominick street, and was one of the flaming members of the Duane Methodist Church, and was a camp meeting woman of the old fashioned stamp. She said to me one day, " Sister Smith, you ought to go to the camp meeting at Oakington." I said, " I should like to go if I could get something to do, tak- ing care of the lodging tent, or get a chance as waitress in the boarding tent, so as to earn a little something." My rent was six dollars a month, and if I lost two weeks, then what would I do? So I said, "You write and get me a situation." " Well, yes," she said, "but you won't get much good of the meeting that way." "Well," I said, "I can't go any other way." So she said, "All right." I went home and prayed that the Lord would open the way for me, and hoped. Next week when I went, I expected to hear favorably from Mrs. Clark's letter. She said she had not heard from her letter yet, but said, "Sister Smith, why don't you trust the Lord and go to get the benefit of the meeting? " I was struck with the thought, just what I would like to have done. Then I thought, "What, trust the Lord about my rent?" I had not heard of such a thing, certainly I had never done it. I thought a moment and then said, "I will." (164) Amanda Smith. 105 Tht'ii Mrs. Clark said. " You can take your own bt*(l-tick and have it lillfd. and you can have room in our tent to sleep, and you will only have t)ur tent to look after." How my heart leaped for joy. Tiii-n slu' told me how to manage, and I worked away, gatherctl what I could together and so got enough to pay my round trip ticket and had just ten cents over. When the time canif Mrs. Clark said, "Send your trunk down to our house ami it can go with our things in the morning." I did so, but when the man got there a little after six o'clock in the morning they were all gone. When I got to the Cortlandt Street Ferry, I found my trunk was not tlu-re, the man had taken it to Debrosses Street Ferry, so the old man told me I had better go up to Debrosses street, about two miles away. My heart beat, I didn't know what to do. I thought, "I can't walk, it is so far, and I am so weary." I thought I might catch the train, and so took the street cars. Then I thought, " If I pay the ten cents to go up and down, how am I going to get through the ferry? " I got back, but of course missed the train. I had to wait from about eight o'clock till half past ten. It seemed that everything was against me. O, how earnestly I did pray. I found that I was twenty-five cents short when I went to buy my ticket, that is if I got an excursion ticket, so I didn't know what to do. I asked the Lord to let me see some one I knew, so as to ask them to lend it to me. There were a great many persons waiting to go by the same train, among them was Rev. Henry Belden, whom I had often met at the Palmer meetings; Rev. Mr. Wells, pastor of the Seventeenth Street Methodist Church; Mr. Faulkner, and a num- ber of other members of the church. They were all very kind to me. I thought, "Shall I ask Brother Belden for the twenty-five cents? ' Just as I looked around, who should be there but Brother Clark. *'0," I said, "I thought you had gone." "I will not go," he said, " till Saturday." — this was Wednes- day morning, I think, — "Mrs. Clark left something and 1 hurried back to get it, and when I got here the train had just gone, so you will take it." "Mr. Clark, will you please loan me twenty-five cents?" "I have no change," he said, "but a two dollar bill, I will give you that and you can give it to m«' when I come." 166 AuTonioGUAriiv op So I ^,'ot my ticket all right. Now the gates open, and the push and noise — it was all so new to me then. I got in at last and took my seat, and I sat thinking and wondering how I would pay good Brother Clark his two dollars when he came on Saturday. *' Lord, help me," I said, "and open the way for me." Then Satan said to me, " If you had not bought that package of tracts you wouldn't have had to borrow that two dollars." A day or two before, I had bought at the Bible House, a pack- age of holiness tracts — they cost thirty cents. I knew my money was short, but holiness was so sweet to me that I wanted every- body to get it, and these tracts set the truth forth in such a clear, reasonable light I thought I might do a little work for the Lord in giving them to persons, so that was why I got them. The Devil don't like holiness anyhow, and I was ignorant of his devices, and was among strangers. He tried his best to pick a quarrel with me. After a little while I got my pack and took out the tracts and began to read, and in spite of all, I felt happy, and felt I had done right in getting them. The train went on. In a little while some one began to sing. I was asked to join in the song, and a real pleasant going to camp meeting we had. After the singing was over, Mr. Faulkner came back to the seat where I was sitting and said: "What are you reading, Auntie?" I handed him the package of tracts. " Ah, do you know anything about holiness?" he said. My heart caught fire in a moment, and I began to tell what great things the Lord had done for me, and after listening a while, he said, " I want to give our pastor. Brother Wells, some of these tracts," and I think he said his daughter and some other ladies were interested in the subject. " All right, sir," I said, " I am very glad to have you take as many as you like." When he got through he returned what were not used. " They are very good, and you must pray that God will bless them." Then he handed me a two dollar bill. " I don't sell them, sir," I said. He smiled and replied, "But don't you buy them?" " Yes, but I didn't pay that for them, sir." " No matter," he said, " I guess you can use it, can't you?" "O, yes, sir, thank you, praise the Lord." Then he went away. Amanda Smith. 167 I sjiw how (iod h;ireachingon holiness. The Sunday morning Love Feast will never be forgotten. The Lord laid it on me to give my experience of how I found the great salvation, and as I spoke He blest me greatly and the people as well. At the close, Brother Inskip said they wanted five hundred dollars — I think it was that amount — for the expenses of the big tent. Some person proposed to divide the amount in shares, so there was a hearty and prompt response, for everybody seemed to be so happy, and in about ten. or fifteen minutes they had the amount, and over. I wanted to give some- thing, I was so glad and happy I thought I would like to give ten dollars if I had it, so I said, "Thou knowest, Lord, if I had it I would give it, do put it into somebody's heart to give it for me." I had hardly uttered the prayer when dear old Brother John McGlynn stood up and said, "Ten dollars for that colored sister that just now sf)oke." "Praise the Lord! thank you, sir," I shouted. O, I felt I could fly. It was there I began to learn the d(>ep meaning of the text, " Ask and ye shall receive, seek and ye shall find, knock and it shall be opened unto you." In the afternoon I went into the tent where Brother Purdy was leading a meeting; he was probing and testing those who were seeking full salvation, for all who know Brother Purdy and his methods know that no one slips through his fingers easy, who is seeking for pardon or purity. He probes deep, praise the Lord. I listened. I knew my own heart measured up to each of these tests and I could say, " Praise the Lord! " My soul was all aglow with holy triumph. I stepped up and said, " Brother Brady, would you like to try your probe on me?" He was all taken back, but in his pleasant way said, "Yes, e^n you stand it, Amanda?" *' Yes, sir; " and I took up the ditferent tests he had given 168 Autobiography op and went through with thorn. The power of the Lord came down upon us, and 6, what a meeting; sinners were converted, believers sanctified. The meeting lasted long after the preaching began in the evening. People came from all parts of the ground. There I first met Mr. and Mrs. Martyr, of Philadelphia, who afterwards were very good friends to me. They are both now in Heaven. It was the first time that I saw Rev, B. F. Adams. He preached a wonderful sermon on Sunday morning, and gave his experience how he got the blessing of sanctification. The power of the Spirit was manifest. Brother Adams sat down in a tempest of glory. It was the very Sunday that Rome was declaring the infallibility of the Pope. Brother Boole sprang to his feet, as by inspiration and said, as he only could say it: "In Rome to-day they are crowning the Pope infallible; let's rise and sing, 'All hail the power of Jesus' name, and crown Him Lord of all,' in our hearts forever." And the whole congregation rose in an instant as one, and I think I never heard such singing — never heard that old Corona- tion sung as it was that day. Yes, we crowned Him King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Hallelujah! for the Lord God Omnipo- tent reigneth! As I had learned at Oakington to trust the Lord for temporal things, and He had blest me so wonderfully, I began to pray about going to Sing Sing, and the Lord sent help. A few days before the meeting opened, Brother Munson, of Twenty-fourth Street Methodist Church, where my friend. Sister Scott, and myself used to go at times to his class, was down town one morning, and the Lord sent him into 135 Amity street, where I lived, in New York. *• Well, Sister Smith," he said, " are you ready for the camp meeting?" " I am asking the Lord to open the way for me." "Well, here are two dollars to help you along." I did praise the Lord for another indication of His loving kindness. Calling a brother's name who was a member of his class, he said his family would give me a place to sleep in their tent, if I liked, or I could have a corner in the large meeting tent. "Praise the Lord," I said, "He doeth all things well. Now, tell me how to go, and all about it." He did so, and left. I had a good time after he had gone. Amanda Smith. 169 thanking (Jcxl for His woiulerlul lovi^ to nn«. It was all a Tirw rxiK rii-ncf, but so bfautitui because I saw the Lord's iiaiul in all. rhc (lay i-ainr, ami my little daughter Ma/ie and I were olF to the eamp.meeiing. The Lord j^ave me many friends, and taught me new lessons. I remember many dear ones of those days, though so many have gone to be with God. Rev. John Cookman, who was then pastor of Bedford Street Church, and llev. Brotln-r II< ail si nun, that wonderful man of God, Brother Moorchousf, and a number of others, were there, llow well I remember dear John Gookman; he was then a power. 1 have no objection to his going to Heaven when his work was done, but somehow I felt as though he might have gone as safely through the dear old Methodist Church, that his father and brother Alfred, of blessed memory, loved and served so long; but praise the Lord, anyhow there are no sects in Heaven. Hallelujah! Oh, the City will be full of blood-washed souls out of every kindred, tongue and people. "What a gathering of the people that will be." Then there was Brother Tom Sherwood, and Brother Kno.x, and King. What times we used to have in the police tent meet- ings! Brother John McClain's tent was where the young people held their meetings. There I first saw and heard Laura Bowden (afterwards Mrs. Crane); she was then in her prime of power. How the Lord did use her testimony and exhortation to the saving of many, young and old. I had never seen or heard of a young people's and children's meeting till then. All this was so new to me, and yet was grand. One day Mrs. Dr. Butler was to speak on the Zenana work in India, where she and her husband spent so many years. Miss Bowd»'n was to have charge of the Young People's Meeting. Mrs. Butler's meeting was in a tent in another part of the grounds and for ladies only. I wanted to hear Miss Bowden so much, for she was so clear on the subject of holiness, and this was my heart's delight, then I wanted to hear Mrs. Butler on India. I had never heard a mis- sionary address in my life. At that time we had no Woman's Foreign Mission Work in our church; but it is ditferent to-day, thank God. I thought it all over, and decided to go into Mrs. Butler's meeting; she was to leave, and Miss Bowden would be there longer, so I would have another chance to hear her, I went into Mni. Butler's meeting; it was in a large tent, and full of nice and many 170 Autobiography of richly dressed ladies. I slipped in at the door and sat down behind them. Mrs. Butler had a small table in front of her; and on it a number of different heathen gods, such as were worshiped in India, and I had never seen anything of the kind before, but I thought it can't be that human beings worship such hideous things for gods. My heart melted, and I wept bitterly and thought, "O, if I could only go and sing that very familiar old hymn, ' I am so glad that Jesus loves me.' " It was new then and I had sung it a great deal, and God had blest it to so niany souls. I thought, " If I could go and sing this hymn they would all be converted right off," but O, how little I knew about heathen superstitions and customs. Well, I had only two dollars and a half in the world, that was to get my little girl a pair of shoes. She had walked about in the grass and got her shoes run inside. She was caring for Mrs. Vico's little child, and I didn't like her to have on those uncomfortable walking shoes, so the next morning I was to send to the village after them. I sat listening to Mrs. Butler. She made an appeal to the ladies for the Zenana work, and told how small a sum would keep a Bible woman in the field a year. "O," I thought, "if I had it I would give twenty dollars." There was a pause, and only a few responded to this appeal out of the great number in the tent, I thought it very strange. By and by two ladies elegantly dressed got up and went out. They had on fine Leghorn hats, trimmed with deep black lace, elegant black lace shawls. "O," I said to mj'self, "those ladies ought to give twenty dollars, they must be rich." Then, as Mrs. B. talked on, others got up and left, giving nothing. How sad I felt. Just then the Spirit said distinctly to me, "You give that two dollars," and I said, "I will." " Yes," the Devil said, "you will look nice to go up there with just two dollars; if you had five it would be something like." Then I felt ashamed to give two dollars, and thought if I could only get out. Then he suggested, " If you had gone to that Young People's Meeting you would not have felt so bad." "Yes," I said, "I wish I had gone." "Give the two dollars," the Spirit said again. "Your child needs the shoes and j^ou have no more," the D*^vil said. " Your first duty is to your child." How concerned he was for her theni Amanda Smith. 171 I thou^'ht I would ^'u out, and as I started thr Spirit said, "God knows why yo»i arr going out; it is because you don't want to give that two dollars." O, I felt I could scrt'am out, so I went up to Mrs. BuMer, sob- bing like a child, and said, '* Mrs. Butler." She looked at me and I said, "Can I go to India?" "I wish you could," she said so kindly. "Well," said I, ''will you take two dollars?" " Yes, I will," she said, " I will give you a paper, too." It was the "Heathen Woman's Friend." I had never seen it before, so I went and sat down, and O, such a wave of glory swept over my soul, and I said, '* Lord, I thank Thee, for I believe I have done right." Just then the Di'vij said, " He that provideth not for his own household is worse than an infidel." It was like a shot, for it was in the Bible, and I had read it, and I didn't know what to do. I closed my eyes and lifted my heart to God and said, " Lord, I don't understand it, but somehow I feel I have done right." Then the Lord sent another shower of blessing to my soul. O, it went all through me like oil and honey I How good the Lord was to me, and at just that moment. Hallelujah! What a Saviour! At half-past two the bell rang at the stand for preaching. I walked down rather slowly, and when I got there som«' one was making a plea for twenty dollars or more for putting the water tanks on top of the hill, so as to be more convenient for the people. A gentle whisper came to me, "Give that fifty cents." "You will be a fool to give that," the Devil suggested, " for some one might give 3'ou two dollars; then you would have the fifty cents so3'Ou could get the shoes." "Yes," I said to myself, "I guess I have got in sympathy with things, looking at them and hearing them." So I shut my eyes and turned round so as not to look up as the basket passed. But the man came and passed the basket right under my face, and I rose up and threw the fifty cents in the basket and said, "Glory to God for nothing, and hallelujah for everything, for I have got Jesus yet; " and O, such a wave of salvation swept through my soul, and I said, " Lord, I thank Thee for helping me to do right." By and by the preacher commenced. I listened. Rev. John Cookman preached one of bis strong holiness sermons. I was 172 Autobiography of greatly blest; but every now and then the Devil would assail me and I would say, "Lord, help me; I believe I have done ri^ht." And He blest me still further. It was a fight; but thanks be to God who giveth us the victory. After the meeting was over I went to my tent to get our tea ready. It was now about six o'clock, and just as we were sitting down and had begun our meal a voice called from the outside: "Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Smith, Grandpa says you and Mazie must come and get your supper." It was good old Father Brummel's little grandson. " Billy, tell your grandpa I thank him, but we are having our supper and will come some other time." I thought he had gone, but in a few minutes more he called out again: "Mrs. Smith, Grandpa says you and Mazie must come over and get your supper." So Mazie said, "Well, Ma, we had better go." We had some* peaches cut down. I said, " What shall we do with our peaches? " "O," she said, "let's leave them for morning." " All right," I said. So when we got in dear Brother Brum- mell's tent he said, "Come, Sister Smith, sit here," pointing to the seat. I shall never forget his loving, kind face. We passed in and took our seats at the table. When I turned up my plate there were three one dollar bills under it, fifty cents more than I had given. So old Satan got whipped that time! Praise the Lord! That was why he assailed me so during the preaching ser- vice; but how sweetly Jesus delivered me out of his hand. Praise His name forever! And this is only one of the many times He has delivered me. O, Lord, I will praise Thee. After 1 had given the two dollars to Mrs. Butler, I sent to town next morning and got the shoes for my little girl just as I had purposed. At one o'clock Sister Jane Fee said to me, " Let us go to some place where we can have a little quiet and prayer together. " We took our Bibles and went far from the ground, in an old apple orchard. We found a large tree out of sight of the people, and almost out of hearing. There we sat down and read the Word. Oh, how sweet it was. We wept together, and prayed, and praised the Lord, and made our request known, and He heard Amanda Smith. 173 us. \i\rv spciuliuj,' :m liour, wr nturiKil to tho campground. As I had had only a slight hri'akfast, and it was now two o'clock, I was fft'ling qiiitf hungry! As we wort' going down one of the avenues two gentlemen were standing talking. When we got up to them one of them reached out his hand and said to me, "This is Sister Amanda Smith, I believe." "Yes," I said, "that is my name, sir." " I have often heard of you. Well, Sister Smith, how arc you getting on?" "Oh, very well; the Lord looks after me." "Well, have you had your dinner?" he asked. " No," I said, "not yet." " Here are two dollars. Go over there, (pointing to a tent); that is Brother C.'s tent. I have just had my dinner, and they have a good table." I thanked him kindly, and praised the Lord. "But," I said, "I will not eat all this two dollars up; there will be some change. Where can I find you?" "Oh, never mind that," he said, "you can keep it; make it go as far as it will." Thus the Lord was my shepherd that day. At six o'clock there was a prayer meeting held at what was called the old Second Street, or Policemen's tent. Brother King, Brother Smith and a number of others took part. God was in the midst of us. The Lord helped in singing, praying and exhor- tation. How blessed it is to remember our old friends. Brother Tom Sherwood, with his grand " Amen," and "Bless the Lord," and " Glory to God," as he would so often make the woods ring when he would shout it. The next morning, at the close of the early prayer meeting, I stood talking with some one, when a gentleman came to me and said, " Have you had your breakfast? " " No," I said' " not yet." "Well, I am going home; I have some tickets, and I guess the Lord will have me give them to you. They will last till the camp meeting closes." "I thank God, and thank you," I said; 'but as I am a colored woman they may object to my taking my meals at that tent." 174 Autobiography of " I don't think they will," he said; " I do not think thero will be any objection, but I will go and see." So he did; and it was all right. They treated me and my daughter most kindly; and the secret of it was, they were earnest Christians. These are some of the Lord's doings, and they are marvelous. Hallelujah! And I did sing with spirit, and with understanding. " In some way or other the Lord will provide; It may not be my way, it may not be thy way, But yet in His own way, the Lord will provide." And I began to trust Him for temporal as well as spiritual blessings as I had never done before. And Oh, how faithful was my Lord. How He has blessed me, and all the little I have done for Him. I had not been accustome)3 to take part in the meetings, especially when white people were present, and there was a timidity and shyness that much embarrassed me; but whenever called upon, I would ask the Lord to help me, and take the timidity out of me; and He did help me every time. I remember one Sunday, between the hours of the morning and evening service, there was a great concourse of people. At that time I had a good voice, and could siag very loud. Mrs. L. asked me to go to her tent, and on my way many crowded round me and asked me to sing. Near by was a large stump. Brother Smith, a class-leader at old Second Street Church, New York, called out, " Sister Smith, step up on that stump so the people may hear you better. B}^ that time there was a crowd around me of about four hundred people. After I had sung one or two pieces, one of which was very familiar and blessed to many — " All I want, all I want. Is a little more faith in Jesus." Brother Smith said, "Sister Smith, suppose you tell the people your experience; how the Lord converted you." And I asked the Lord to help me if it was His will that I should honor Him in acknowledging what He had done for me. And I felt He would help me, so I trusted in Him and ventured to speak, As I went on my heart grew warm, and the power of the Spirit rested upou me, and many of the people wept, an4 seemed Amanda Smith. 175 deeply moved and interested, as they had never bct-ii before. And (iod, I believe, blessed ihat inectinjif at that bi^' stumi) on the old Sing Sing Cami) CJround. How real it all seems to me now as I think it over, though it was so long ago. A day or two more and the camp meeting was over, and I and Mazie were on the boat going home to New York, to my dear home, which was two small riK)ms in the rear of 135 Amity street, now called Third street, just above Si.xth avenue. I call it my dear home because the Lord had so many times answered my prayer, and blessed my own soul, and made it the birthplace of many souls. Those two little attic ro«^ms will ever be dear to me, and I feel like saying, as one of old: 'If I forget thee, let my right hiind forget her cunning; if I do not {irefer thee above all the fine mountains in America, England, Scotland, Rome, Egypt, or Africa." "Here I'll raise my Ebenezer, Hither by Thy help I've come, And I hope by Thy good pleasure Safely to arrive at home." Amen. CHAPTER XIV. KENNEBUNK CAMP MEETING — HOW I GOT THERE, AND WAS EN- TERTAINED — A GAZING STOCK — HAMILTON CAMP MEETING — A TRIP TO VERMONT — THE LOST TRUNK, AND HOW IT WAS foun;d. I had met Brother Luce at Round Lake Camp Meeting. He was a strong holiness preacher. Among others who had asked me to go to different camp meetings, he had asked me. I was a young beginner yet, and knew the Lord was leading. But I generally prayed over matters a good deal before deciding. There was a Mrs. Brown, who used to live at Harlem, N. Y. She was a good woman, and I used to work for her. I liked her very much. They had a tent at Round Lake, also. So one day she asked me to bring her a pitcher of water. I often did little things for the ladies, brushed and settled up their tents, or got them a pitcher or bucket of water. I never felt that it hurt my dignity. After I had brought her a pitcher of water, Mrs.Brown said to me, **We have a camp meeting at Wesley Grove at such a time, and we are short of workers, and I believe, Amanda, the Lord would bless you if you would go to our camp meeting; and all the money you needed would be at your disposal." "Thank j'ou," I said, "there are several who have asked me about going to different camp meetings. But you know I have to pray about it. So if you give me the address I will know how to go when I get home and get still before the Lord, so as to know just where He wants me to go, for when om says 'Come here,' and another 'There,' I cannot tell which way or place the Lord wants me to go. But when I get home and get still I can know His voice. " So off I went at that. The day before the camp meeting closed I met Brother Luce again. (176) Amanda Smith. 177 •*Nov/, Sister Smith," said he. " I have a church at St. Johns- ville, and our people have a hirge society tent, and you could slay in it, and I would like to have you come to our camp meeting. I will give^you my address, and when I get home I will write you and give you all the directions how to come, so you will have no trouble." "All right, sir; thank you," I said. The me«*ting closed, and I never had heard such wonderful preaching on the line of holiness. I was filled and thrilled. So 1 went homt' and began to pray and ask the Lord where He would have me go. For out of all the places I had been asked to visit, I wanted to know just where He would have me go. And a deep conviction settled down upon me that I was to go to Kennebunk. I liked Brother Luce and Brother Munger, and their families were all so kind to me while at Round Lake. Then Brother Luce would send me word just how to come. But to my surprise, when the letter came Brother Luce said, "Sister Smith, I am not well, and our people have decided not to take our big tent; so you had better not come, as you are a stranger, and have no place to stop." "Well," I thought, "all right. I will go to Wesley Grove, where Mrs. Brown wants me to go. Then I know her, and like to work for her. So it will be better than going to Kennebunk." Then the conviction to go to Kennebunk seemed to deepen, and I did not understand it. I must go to Kennebunk. I went to the Lord and told Him. I said, "Lord, I would be willing to go to Kennebunk, but Thou knowest Brother Luce has written and told me not to come. And Thou knowest it is not nice to go where you are told not to come. And if I do, it will look like impertinence after he has written and told me not to come. So I will go to Wesley Grove. Mrs. Brown says they need help there. Then I have worked for Mrs. Brown, and I am better acquaint»*d with her, and that would be better for me." Thistime Satan helped me a little bit. He said, "Yes, the reason you want to go to Wesley Grove is because Mrs. Brown offered you money, and that is all you are going there for — money." Oh! how horrible it seemed as I thought of it. And I knew il was not so. And I said, " Now, Mr. Satan, that's a lie, and I will not go to Wesley Grove at all. I am going straight to Kenne- bunk, where they told me not to come. And I will show you it*8 not monev I'm after." 178 Autobiography ov I didn't know how much it would take for me to go to Kenne- bunk. I had been only to Philadelphia. So on Friday night I went to old John Street Church. Brother Roberts was class leader there. When they held their fiftieth anniversary they ^lad made me, with a number of others, a life member, so I often used to go to this class. That night there was a Mr. Palmer there. He was a very nice man, and a very consistent Christian. When the meeting was over, this gentleman went to put me on the Sixth avenue cars. He said, as we walked along, talking, "Sister Smith, for years I have been seeking the blessing of heart purity, and your testimony to-night helped me. But why is it I do not seem to get out into the full light? The Lord has blessed me," he added, "and I have some means. I am a broker on Wall street. But I have consecrated all to the Lord. And any time you need any help, you must just let me know." "Well, sir," I said, "I never tell anybody but the Lord about my needs. He knows all, and I always tell Him to put it into the hearts of the people to help me when I need it, and then I leave it." Now, somehow, I felt that the Lord wanted that brother to give me some money, for I did not have quite enough to go to Ken- nebunk. So I said good night, and got on the car and on I went. But I prayed all the way, and after I got home, that the Lord would trouble that man's heart, for I felt that he was disobeying the Spirit, and that was one reason why he could not come out into the light of full salvation. You must not keep back the full price of loyal obedience to God, and yet expect Him to bless you. And yet how often do we find persons doing this very thing. Then they wonder why they do not get on. The Lord help someone who reads this to see the truth. I felt somehow all the time that that man was the one that was to help me out. So next morning I got down and praj'ed again. And then I got up and began to get my things ready. I was doing some ironing. All at once I heard someone come run- ning upstairs very quickl3^ When he got to the foot of the stairs he called out, "Sister Smith! " " Yes," I said. Who should it be but this very brother. "T had an errand uptown this morning," said he, "and I thought I would run in and see }'ou." Now he had never been to my house before in his life. So I Amanda Smith. 1?^ said, "The Lord sent him." I siiid to him, "Sit had never been without it a day all these years; and if he failed to get it on Saturday, he would go into a drug store on his way to church on Sunday morning and get it, and pay for it on Monday. What a slave! He was a class-leader, and he said he felt he needed to be fixed up a bit. So he did, I should say. One morning under a powerful ser- mon bv Rev. 13. F. Pomeroy, of the Troy Conference, h.' was led to make a full surrender of himself. When Brother Pomeroy inviied them forward, this man went. He had got the victory while praying in the woods, over his prejudice against me an hour or two before. But the tobacco stuck. He had it in his mouth, and when he knelt there the Spirit said to him, "Can you give up that tobacco?" And I saw him when he dug a hole in the straw and leaves and took his tobacco out of his mouth, put it down, covered it over and got on it with his knees! It was not long before the Lord poured in his heart the blessing of full salvation. Myl how he shouted! It was a wonderful meeting that afternoon. The first thing he saw when he got up and stood on his feet, he said, was the colored woman standing on a bench with both hands up, singing "All I want is a little more faith in Jesus." And he said <'very bit of prejudice was gone, and the love of God was in his heart, and he thought I was just beautiful! I saw him the next year, and he was still saved. And he sat down by m.- in the dining hall at th.' table and gave me two dol- lars; and he said the past year had been the best year of his life. Oh, how happy he was! God bless him. Amen. I think it was June 21, 1871. 1 remember the great railroad accident at Revier. I got into Boston from Martha's Vineyard. I was anxious to catch the five p. m. train. It left Boston, and stopped at Hamilton, about seven o'clock. Then the next train did MOt leave till seven thirty, and that would not arrive at the camp 186 Autobiography of meeting till about nine o'clock; and as I had never been there I was anxious to get there as early as 1 could. But the man that I had got to take my trunk was late, and just as I had got into the station the train was moving out. "Oh, my!" I said, "I wanted to go on that train." The porter said, "You are too late now." "When will the next one go out to the camp meeting? " "Seven thirty," he said, "and will arrive about nine o'clock." "Oh," I said, "I'm so sorry. 1 wrote I would be on that train." There were a number of persons who had come to say good-bye to loved ones, parents, and children, and friends; and as the train moved off, handkerchiefs were waved and kisses were thrown, and the last good-bye said, and the train passed out of the station, and I felt as though I would cry, I was so disappointed. But that disappointment saved my life. We left Boston on the next train, a lively company of camp meeting folks. A number were just going for the Sabbath. I met a number of friends who knew me, and we had some singing on the train, and I was feeling glad and happy, after all my disappointment. We went at full speed, and all at once the train suddenly stopped. We sang on and waited for it to start. We didn't know what the trouble was. A half hour passed; still we did not move on. Some of the men went out, and we thought when they came back we would know what the trouble was. Another half hour passed, and they did not come back. Then some of the women said, "Let's go out and see." So several of us got out and walked down the track and met sev- eral coming, who said there was a great accident at Revier. Our train had stopped about a mile away, this side of where the acci- dent occurred. I, with several others, walked to the scene, and as we drew near the fire was roaring, and the shouts for help and the groans of the dying and wounded were something beyond description. Revier was only a small way station; there was no drug store, and no houses to get any help from. They took off the doors of the few houses that stood round, and the shutters, and everything they could get hold of. Some were scalded; some were burned; others with broken limbs; and we were helpless; we had nothing. I could only weep and pray. I thought of the goodness of the Lord in not letting the man get my trunk in time, and then the words of this Psalm came to my mind with much force. ' A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right Amanda Smith. 187 hand; but it shall not com»' iii^'h tiu'c." Oh, liow I did [)rais«' my lovinj? Father, God. They succeeded somrhow in jj^tltin-r thf track cit'ar, and our train passed on. We arrived at the camp-^'roiind between twelve and one o'clock at ni^'ht. Sunday was a sad day, thouf:fh many who were on the ground knew nothing' of the accident, yet it seemed to cast a shadow. But the Lord was with us and helped. How well I remember some of the dear friends. My home was with Mrs. .Tames Mu.s.so. in their pretty cottage. The lovely me(rs we had! 1 remember Mrs. McGee, of Boston, and old Father Waite, of Ip.swich. One day, going into the dining tent, he; introduced me to the people as the "Fifteenth Amendment." That was the first I had heard of (hat bill. I also n;member Father Snow, of lioston, Sarah and Laura Clapp, and dear Beenie Hamilton, and the wonderful tent meeting. She asked me to go with her to a little quiet meeting in a cottage. It was not to be a large meeting; only a few hungry ones who wanted help specially. The meeting was to be held only an hour; but we never closed it from half past two till six o'clock, and we could hardly close then; and if ever I saw God take hold of a meeting and control it, it was that afternoon. More than a score of souls were swept into the fountain of cleansing. Some people were convicted for pardon and for purity on the spot, and yielded to God, and God saved. Truly it was realized, " Knock and it shall be opened; seek and ye shall find; ask, and it shall be given you, for every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to him thatknocketh, it is opened." The most of the time I stood on my feet and exhorted, and sang, and talked, and prayed. When I got out and went to start home, I could scarcely walk. I was thoroughly exhausted. I had a cup of tea, and lay down a while, and was ready for another pitched battle. Glory to God! Those were wonderful days. One does not .see it in that fashion now. Oh, how we need the mighty Holy Ghost power that they had at Pentecost! " It was while they all were praying, It was while they al' were praying, It was while they all were praying And believing it would come, Came the power, the power, Came the power that Jesus ^»^omised should come down." 188 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OP One day, just before the camp meeting; closed, Rev. Dr. Cush man, who was then Principal of the Ladies' Seminary at Auburn- dale, Mass., came to me and said: "Sister Smith, have you ever been to Linden ville, Vt. ? " I said, " No." "Well," said he, "that is my home, not far from there. Our camp meeting begins such a day (naming the day), and I believe the Lord would have you go to that meeting, I think you would do us good. 1 have to leave to-night," he continued, "or in the morning, but I will give you the directions how to come." So I told the Lord if He wanted me to go to Lindenville, and would give me the money, I would take that as an indication of His will. So the money came all right. On Tuesday morning, 1 think it was, I was off. I didn't stop to eat my breakfast; I thought I would wait till I got there. I left Hamilton about six a. m. for Boston, so as to get as early a train as I could. I had no idea where Vermont was, much less Lindenville. I was as green as a pea! I had never traveled any distance, and coming from New York to Boston, and then to Martha's Vineyard, was the biggest thing I had ever done. I expected to get to Lindenville about ten o'clock a. m. When I got to the station at Boston, I went to the ticket office and asked for a ticket to Lindenville, Vt. The man said, "You won't have time to get a ticket; the train is just moving out." I turned and said to the man, "Put on my trunk, quick! " He pitched it on, and I got on. I think it was the eight-fifteen train in the morning. When the conductor came I told him I didn't have time to get a ticket, so paid him what he asked. I said to him, " I didn't get my trunk checked; will you please look in the baggage car and tell me if you see such a trunk? " describing the trunk as best I could. In a little while he came through, and said, "Madame, there is so much baggage piled up that I cannot tell, exactly, but from the description you give I think it is there: it will be all right." So I was contented. Ten o'clock came, and I was not at Lindenville. Eleven o'clock — twelve o'clock — not yet. Then I began to get hungry. I saw no place where I could get even an apple. Then I wondered if I had not made a mistake after all. So the Devil thought this was his chance, and he assailed me fiercely: " You don't know if you are on the right train.** **No,"l9aid, "I do not." Amanda Smith. 189 "You ought not to have come without gottin^' ;i tickt-i." •*No," I said, **I suppose not." Tlirn I thought, "Well, I asked the Lord about it," and tht-n he said, "You prayed, but you didn't pray enough." "Perhaps I didn't," I thought. Then a gentleman got in, and ho looked very pleasant, and I thought I would ask him if I was on the right train to Linden- villo, Vt. So I went to him and .said, '* You will excuse me, sir, but I want to ask you if this is the train that goes to Linden- ville, Vt.?" He said very sharply, "I don't know." Then everybody seemed to look at me. All the people seemed so strang(\ It seemed to me I had never seen that kind of people before. And they seemed as though they had not seen many of my kind before! My! how they stared at me! After a while a lady got on, and I thought I would ask her. And I said, "Madame, will you tell me if this train goes to Lindenville, Vt. ? " She pulled herself up, and said, "I don't know." Then I thought I would ask the conductor, but he sailed through in such a rush that I couldn't ask him. Then the Devil said, " You think the Lord wanted you to go to Lindenville, Vt.; but if the Lord wanted you to go, somebody would know if you are on the right train, and be able to tell you." And I thought, "Yes, that is so; it does seem so." And imagine my surprise when I never got to Lindenville, Vt., till six o'clock in the evening. But about four o'clock in the afternoon we stopped at a station, and Rev. Mr. Luce and his wife and children got on, and they spied me, and Brother Luce came up, and said, "Why, Amanda Smith, where are you going?" "To Lindenville, Vt., sir." "Well," said he, "we go as far as St. Johnsville. Then we are going up to Lindenville on Sunday to the camp meeting." I was so glad. Then he asked me if I had had anything to eat. I told him no, and they gave me some lunch, and that helped me. When we got to Lindenville, J)r. (^ushan was there and m«'t me at the station, and hunted for my trunk high and low; but he could not find it; there was no such trunk there. And I had to stay just with the clothes that I had on, and had traveled in, up till the next Saturday. 190 Autobiography of Well, WO went lo the camp meeting :htened me. It went all over me, and I b"_T:an to stammer —a thini,' 1 never do — and I tried to think of the name »>f the lady who had asked me — for I knew her very w»'ll — but to save nie her ii iiiie would not come. She was at the meeting, but had irot to the door, and was sp-akiiii; to some one; and I looked round and said. "Mrs. , Mrs. ." but I could not think of the name. I lokl her some ladies had told me about Miss Smiley 's meeting, and I thought I would like to come and hear Miss Smiley. "Well," she said, "we have invited Mi.ss Smiley here." "Oh," I said, "I beg your pardon, madame." "Never mind, pass right out, pass right out," she said, wav- ing her hand toward the door. "Oh," I said, "Madame — " and she said, "Pass out, pass out," and she drove me awaj*. ♦ Some of the ladies were passing, and they said, "Oh, my, this is too bad." "What is the matter?" another said. And another, "Oh, that is a shame." "What is it?" By the time I got to the door there was so much sympathy and pity for me that they almost killed me. I cried, almost to convulsions. I was nearly dead. If they had not pitied me and seemed to feel so sorry for me, I could have got on well enough. I went up to Si.xth avenue and got on the car, and some of the ladies got on the same car; and they sat down beside me and tried to comfort me, and they made it worse. I was ashamed of myself, but I could not help myself. It seemed to me I had lost all con- trol of my feelings. I cried about that thing for about two days, every time I thought of it. And it made quite a stir. The ladies came from downtown to see me about it, and to inquire about it. And I prayed so much for the woman, for I thought she needed to be i)rayed for, and I did pray for her with all my heart. So I think that she got th«* worst of it in the end! Sometimes people say to me, "Oh. Amanda Smith, how very popular you are." "Yes," I say, "but I paid for it." I paid a good price formy popularity. I don't know whether the lady is living or dead. I 196 Autobiography op have never seen her since. Poor thing, how I have pitied hef ! I suppose the Lord will get her through somehow. But that is the only time 1 was ever ordered out of a church from a religious meeting, or any other kind. Again, it was in 1870 or 1871, when my dear friend, Mrs. Hannah Whitehall Smith, was holding those marvelous Bible readings in Germantown and Philadelphia that God blessed so wonderfully. I had often heard them spoken of, and read of them, and thought how I would like to go; but then I did not know whether they would allow colored persons to go. The Lord often would send me around among white people where there was a good meeting going on, that I might learn more perfectly some lesson from His Word. One day I was on my way to West Philadelphia when Mr. Robert Pearson Smith, who had been off in California, doing some evangelistic work, I believe, and had got home just a few days before, got on the car, and after he had sat down a little while he looked over and recognized me. He came and said, " I think this is Amanda Smith?" I said, "Yes." He took a seat by me, and did not have any fear or embarrassment from my being a colored woman. How real, and kind, and true he was. He said, "Amanda Smith, has thee attended any of the meetings that my wife, Hannah, has been holding?" "No," I said. "I have thought I would like so much to go, but I did not know if they would allow colored persons to go." "Oh, yes, Amanda," he said, "there would be no objection to thee going, and I think thee would enjoy the meeting very much. God has wonderfully blessed Hannah, and scores of ladies of rank have been led to consecrate themselves to the Lord, and have realized great blessing. She will hold a meeting at 1018 Arch street, on Friday. Thee must go." I thanked him very kindly, and told him I would do so. "Now," I thought to myself, "the Lord has answered my prayer, and opened the way for me, and no doubt He has some blessed lesson to teach me from His Word; for Mrs. Smith is such a wonderful Bible teacher." So I looked forward to Friday with great delight. When the day came I got ready and went, prayerfully. But somehow I seemed to have a little trembling come over me as I neared the corner of Tenth and Arch streets; and I said to myself, " I wonder Amanda Smith, 197 what is going to happen: my heart has become so sad all in a moment," Then I began to pray more earnestly that the Lord would help me and lead me. Sometimes these feeling of sadness, though uuex- plainable, are the omen of a great blessing from God; at another time they may indicate disapiH.)intment and sadness, .so that in either case God permits ihem, and i)repares the lu'art by prayer to receive the blessing, or to endun- the st)rrow or disappointment. Praise His name for this. •hist when I was about to turn the corner, I saw two ladies coming. I knew them, and they were on ihj way to the meeting. I thought, " I will let them pass, and I will follow close on behind, and go in just when they are fairly in." I always tried to avoid anything like pushing myself, or going where I was not wanted. And then I knew how sensitive many white people are about a colored person, so I always kept back. I don't think that anybody can ever say that Amanda Smith pushed herself in where she was not wanted. I was something like the groundhog; when he .sees his shadow he goes in; I always could see my shadow far enough ahead to keep out of the way. But I thought as Mr. Pearson Smith had so kindly told me that it would be all right for me to go to this meeting, that I would not be intruding; no, certainly not. When these ladies got up to me, they stopped, and Sfxjke to me very kindly; they said, "Well, Amanda Smith, how does thee do? Is thee going to the meeting? " " Yes," I said, " I have heard and read a good deal about the meeting, and I thought I would go to-day." I saw they looked a little nervous or queer, so I said to them, •' I met Mr. Pearson Smith the other day, and he told me to go; there would be no objection, and the meetings were very wonder- ful in ble.ssing, and he thought I would enjoy them." " Well, Amanda," one of the ladies said, " the meeting will be very full to-day, and there will be a great many very wealthy ladies in from Gemantown, and West Philadelphia, and WaltuiL Hills, and the meetings are especially for this class, and I think thee had better not go to-day; some other day would be better for thee." And then they i>olitely bowed, and went on. I never said a word. I was dumbfounded; and there I stood. I thought, "How is this? I have been praying about this meet- ing ever since I .saw Mr. Smith, and I have been e.xpecting a real 198 Autobiography op feast to my soul to-day, and now these ladies feel it won't do for me to go, because I am a colored woman, and so many of the wealthy ladies will be there. They don't know but that the Lord may have sent a message to some of them through me." So I said, "I will linger about till I know the meeting is well begun, then I will go and stand at the door." Now I felt in my heart it was right to do this instead of going back home. I did so. " And after all it may be I may hear the word the Lord has for me; for He meant something by my com- ing." So I slipped in quietly and stood at the door; there were a number of others standing up. Just as Mrs. Smith was in the midst of her good Bible address, sure enough the Lord had a mes- sage for me, and I got a great blessing as I stood at the door. Praise the Lord! And now, the change is, instead of Amanda Smith, the col- ored washwoman's presence having a bad effect on a meeting where ladies of wealth and rank are gathered to pray and sing His blessing, they think a failure more possible if the same Amanda Smith, the colored woman, cannot be present. This is all the Lord's doings, and marvelous in our eyes. At the close of this meeting as the ladies were passing out, one and another came to me and spoke to me, and shook hands; "Why, this is Amanda Smith." "Yes." "Oh, here is Amanda Smith; why didn't you sing?" And another, "Oh, I have heard you." And another, "Oh, I wish you had sung such a piece." And another, " Why didn't you speak? " And another, " I have heard you sing such a piece at Ocean Grove at such a time, or at Round Lake." I was glad of this, for I thought, " After all, I have not spoiled the spirit of the meeting." But then, I was not so well known then, and many people were shy of me, and are yet. But I belong to Royalt} , and arii well acquainted with the King of Kings, and am better known and better understood among the great family above than I am on earth. But I thank God the time is coming, and we " Shall know each other better when the mists have rolled awa5\" Hallelujah! Amen. In May, '70, or '71, the General Conference of the A. M. E. Church was held at Nashville, Tenn. It was the first time they ever held a General Conference south of Mason and Dixon's line. I Amanda Smith. 109 had be»Mi laboring in Sal«'m, wIhto the Lord first sent mo, and blessed me in winning souls; the people were not rich; they gave me a home, and something to eat; but very little money. So, before I could jret back to New York, my home, I took a service place, Ht Mrs. Mater's, in Philadelphia, corner of Coach and Brown streets, while her servant, Mary, went to Wilmington to see her child: she was to be gone a month, but she stayed five weeks; and now the Annual Conference was in session, at the A. M. E. Union Church, near by where I was, so I had a chance to attend. The election of delegates to the General Conference the next year was a very prominent feature of the Conference; of course every minister wanted, or hoped to be elected as delegate. As I listened, my heart throbbed. This was the first time in all thes(? years that this religious body of black men, with a black church from beginning to end, was to be assembled south of Mason and Dixon's line. But the great battle had been fought, and the victory won: slavery had been abolished; we were really free. There were en thusiastic speeches made on these points. Oh, how I wished I could go; and a deep desire took xjossession of me; but then, who was I ? I had no money, no prominence at that time, except being a plain Christian woman, heard of and known by a few of the brethrt'n, as a woman preacher, which was to be dreaded by the majority, especially the upper ten. Fortunately I had a good friend in Bishop Campbell, knowing him so well years before he was elected to this office. Also Bishop Wayman, Bishop Brown, and Bishop Quinn, were friends of mine. I believe I always had their sym- pathy and friendship. But there was no opportunity for me to speak to them personally. So I ventured to ask one of the breth- ren, who had been elected delegate, to tell me how much it would cost to go to Nashville; I would like to go if it did not cost too much. He looked at me in surprise, mingled with half disgust; the very idea of one looking like me to want to go to General Confer- ence; they cut their eye at my big poke Quaker bonnet, with not a flower, not a feather. He said, "I tell you, Sister, it will cost money to go down there; and if you ain't got plenty of it, it's no use to go; " and turned away and smiled; another said: " What does she want to go for? " " Woman preacher; they want to be ordained," was the reply. 200 Autobiography op •'I mean to fight that thing," said the other. "Yes, ind(»ed, so will I," said another. Then a slight look to see if I took it in. I did; but in spite of it all I believed God would have me go. He knew that the thought of ordination had never once entered my mind, for I had received' my ordination from Him, Who said, "Ye have not chosen Me, but I have chosen you, and ordained you, that you might go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit might remain." I spoke to some of the good sisters who were expecting to go: they said they did not know what it would cost. So I went home, and prayed, and asked the Lord to help me; and the conviction that I was to go deepened, and yet it seemed so impossible. Just before the Conference closed I ventured to ask another good brother, who had been elected delegate, and whom I knew very well, and he was so nice, I thought he would tell me. "Brother S.," I said, "how much do you think it will cost''' " This was the uppermost thought then — the cost to go to Nashville. "Oh, my sister," he replied, "I don't know; it will take all of a hundred dollars; " and with a significant toss of the head shot through the door, and I saw him no more till I met him next year at Nashville; and that was a surprise, but he managed to speak to me, as we both stopped at the Sumner House, and sat at the same table. I was quite a curiosity to most of the visitors, especially the Southern brethren, in my very plain Quaker dress; I was eyed with critical suspection as being there to agitate the question of the ordination of women. All about, in the little groups that would be gathered talking, could be heard, "Who is she?" "Preacher woman." "What does she want here?" "I mean to fight that thing." "I wonder what day it will come up?" Of course, I was a rank stranger to most of them; the bishops, and all those whom I did know, had all got there before me, and were settled, and I was not going to trouble them for anything. Then those of the ladies whom I knew, wives of ministers or bishops, were dressed to the height of their ability; I could not rank with them; sol was all alone; "And His brethren did not believe in Him." "The servant is not above his Lord." No one but God knows what I passed through the first three days. God, in answer to prayer, had marvelously opened my way Amanda Smiih. 201 to 1:0; through thr kimlnt'ss i»f my il.-ar liiriul, Mrs. Kibboy, of Albany, N. Y., who is now in liciivcn, 1 had my outfit; a pretty tan (Inss, with a drab shawl and bound to match. I thought I was tino; but bless you, I found 1 did not shine in that land, worth a nickel; for my people, as a rule, like fine show. Before I left New York for Nashville, I had heard that the bishoi)S were to have a certain number of tickets at rt'duccd rates; so I wrote Bishop Campbell and asked him if h.' would get me a ticket. About two weeks after, he was passing through New York, and called to see me, and explained the matter. How very kind he was. God bless his memory. I gave him the money— thirty some dollars — and in a day or two he sent me the ticket. Now I thought I was all right, and so thanked the Lord. He had answered prayer up to this time in all that I had asked. I was expecting when I got to Philadelphia to find several ladies who had told me they were expecting to go without fail; but when I got there, there was but one lady — Sisttr Rurhy— and hi'r husband; there were about twenty or thirty preachers, and just two ladies. Poor Sister Burley was glad I was going, as she was alone; and I was glad she was going, as 1 wjls alone. She and I kept together as much as her husband would allow her; Broth. t Burh-y was a remarkably s.-lfish man, and stout acciirdingly; if he dropped his handkerchief his wife must be by him to catch it before it touched the ground, or pick it up immediately, or get him a clean one. Of course, I was only a visitor. We arrived three days before the opening of the Conference. This was to give all the delegates lime to get in. I thought I would have no difficulty in getting a place to stop, and, perhaps, it would not have been so bad if I had been more stylish looking. We arrived, I think, about two P. M. Friday; we were driven to a large church where tickets were given with the name and address where each one was to stop. Now, there were fiv«5 or six ladies, but none whom I knew; they seemed to eye me shari)ly, but took no further notice; by and by, plans were settled, and two or three of these ladies, and six or eight ministers got in a 'bus and w re taken to their placs. I inquired of those who had charge, but th.y said they only had the names of thos(! who w.-re dele- gates. P(M)r me; I almost cried, and was tempted to wish I had not come. 203 Autobiography op Sist( r Burley felt sorry for mv, and asked her husband if hv could nol heliD me; but he said 1 ought not to have come without knowing something about things before I came. "That is so," I replied; "but I am quite prepared to pay for my board, if I can find a boarding house." By this time the 'bus was there again, and the next crowd were off to their lodgings; a few minutes more and another 'bus came, and my only friend, Sister Burley, was gone. It was then almost five o'clock; the 'bus came the last time; the man asked me where I was going; I told him I did not know. "This is the last load, and you had better get in; I take these people to the Sumner House; when you get there they might be able to tell you where to go." I thanked him, and got in. When we got there. I saw Mrs. Sumner and told her how it was; she said they were full, but if I would put up with it she would do the best she could. God bless her. I thanked her, and thanked the Lord. She was so kind and motherly. Now, all that time no one had paid the slightest attention to me, any more than if I had not been in the world; they were all strangers to me, and full of excitement; so I was quite alone. I would walk out in the afternoon alone, and to and from church alone. Several times I got ready in time and called at the parlor and asked if any of the ladies were ready; "not yet," was the usual answer; so I would walk on. After awhile, in the great- est style, would come these ladies with the good brethren. The early mornings and the evenings were quite pleasant; so Monday evening, about six o'clock, I thought I would take a little walk; and, without knowing it, I got on the street leading to the Fisk University. As I walked on I saw a lady coming toward me; she began to smile; I thought, " I ought to know that face, but who is it?" She came up to me and said: "Is not this Mrs. Amanda Smith?' "Yes," I said. "Oh, how do you do?" she said; "I'm so glad to see you. We just got home a few days ago, and we were talking about you last night; we were all in the parlor having a little sing, and we were speaking of the piece you sang with us in Music Hall, Boston." "Oh," I said, "the Jubilee Singers." Just then I recognized Amanda Smith. .203 her. "Why, am I anywhert' in'ar Fisk Uiiivrrsily, win re tin; Jubilee* SingtTs c-ainc from?" " Yt's," sho said, " we ar.' just out such a place; and you must come out and see us. Professt)r "White is goin<^' to invite the Con- ference out on Wednesday, and you must come." This was Miss Ella Sheiipard, now Mrs. Moore, wife of the faithful pastor of Lincoln Memorial Church, AVasliington, I). C. When the time came there was quite an excitement about who was going. Carriages were engaged; I offered to pay for a seat in one, but there was no room; I sent out and ordered my own car- riage, and paid for it myself. While I was getting ready, a certain brother took a lady and put her in my carriage; when I went out to get in, he said, laugh- ingly, " Mrs. Smith, Miss So and So and I want to go, and as you have room in your carriage, 1 thought w«' would get in; " but neither of them offered to j)ay a cent. I had half a mind not to allow it; but it was a good chance to return good for evil. When we got there the good brother, being a minister, took his lady and passed quite up in front and was seated. I took a seat where I could get it, back in the congregation. One or two of the bishops were on the platform, together with a number of ministers, and the fine choir of the Jubilee Singers. The meeting was opened in the usual way — an address by one of th«' bishops, then a song by the choir, singing as they could sing. Miss Sheppard spied me in the audience, and told Prof. White. He looked and looked, and could not see me at first. Then he went and spoke to Miss Sheppard again. Then she pointed out the plain bonnet. Then he spied me and quickly came down and shook hands, and was so glad. They all looked astonished. Hold- ing me by the hand, he escorted me to the platform and intro- duced me to the large audience, who, in the midst jf overwhelming amazement, applauded. Then the good professor told how they had met me in Boston, and how T sang the grand old hymn, " All I want is a little more faith in Jesus," and what a burst of enthu- siasm it created. And of all the surprised and astonished men and women you ever saw, these men and women were the most so. While he was making these remarks, I prayed and askfd (lod to help me. Then he said, " Tm going to ask Mrs. Smith !•> sing that same song she sang at Boston, and the Jubilee Singers .viU join in the chorus." 304 Autobiography of Amanda Smith. If ever the Lord did help me, He helped me that day. And the Spirit of the Lord seemed to fall on all the people. The preachers got happy. They wept and shouted " Amen ', ' " Praise the Lord!" At the close a number of them came to me and shook hands, and said, "God bless you, sister. Where did you come from? I would like to have you come on my charge." Another would say, "Look here, sister, when are you going home? God bless you. I would like to have you come to my place." And so it went. So that after that many of my brethren believed in me, especially as the question of ordination of women never was mooted in the Conference. But how they have advanced since then. Most of them believe in the ordination of women, and I believe some have been ordained. But I am satisfied with the ordination that the Lord has given me. Praise His name! I had no trouble after I had Prof. White's and Prof. Spence's kind recognition, and I had the pleasure of spending a week or more at the University with those good people. And as I would talk at several of the meetings, the Lord blessed the dear ttnichers and students I also spent a week at Dr. Braden's. They were very kind, and the Lord gave us blessing in some meetings. They have done, and are doing, a grand work among my people. May God bless them all. I give this little story in detail, to show that even with my own people, in this country, I have not always met with the pleas- antest things. But still I have not backslidden, nor felt led to leave the church. His grace has ever been sufficient. And all we need to-day is to trust Him. ** Simply trusting every day. Trusting through the stormy way, Even when my faith is small, Trusting Jesus, that is all." CHAPTER XVI. now I GOT TO KNOXVILLE, TENN., TO THE NATIONAL CAMP MEETING^ AND WHAT FOLLOWED. It was in September, 1872, just after the camp meetin«r at Williamsville. When I went to Williamsville I had not thought anything about going to Knoxville. But while there a number of the friends thought I ought to go to Knoxville. Well, I hadrft prayed anything about it, so didn't know. I stayed with Mr. and Mrs. Little, who had charge of the book store. There was a Rev. Mr. Ford, who was Presiding Elder, or Pastor, of the Methodist Church at Knoxville. He was making the arrangements about the camp meeting, and about Brother Inskip's coming to Knoxville. One day I came in and they were talking, and Mrs. Little said to me, a little while after, that she was not feeling at all pleased at some things she had heard them say, and that she did not care to go. "But," she said, "Henry is going, and 1 supi>ose I will have to go. ' ' "What is it?" I said. " Why," she said, "they don't want you to go, and say it will not do if you go, at all." " Why," I said, " I was not thinking about going. I have not asked the Lord anything about going, and I do not know as He wants me to go." " Well," she said, " I would like to have you go, but then it is down South, and they are afraid it will hurt their meeting if you go." " I wo»ild not go for anything," 1 said. " I am .so anxious for everybody to get the blessing of sancliticalion, I don't want to go and hinder anybody, not for the world." At dinner time I went up to the tent of tin- lady who had Invited me to dinner. When I got there I found dear Sister Inskip (305) 206 AUTOBIOOKAPHY OF and several others talking over the matter. Sister Inskip was so true and outspoken. Some were insisting that I should go, and were willing to pay my expenses. Dear Sister InskiiD turned to me, and said, "It would be very nice to have Sister Amanda go, but we think too much of her to have her go down there and not be treated properly, so we hope she won't go." Then I began to think there was more in what Mrs. Little said than I had at first thought. So I said, " T want everybody to get blessed, and I don't want to go unless the Lord wants me to go." So there was not any more said directly about it. But some- how after that 1 got a very deep conviction that I was to go. I was sorry, -for I thought, "Now, if I go after what Sister Inskip has said, I Jim afraid they will think I have done it imperti- nently." That night dear Brother Wells preached. It was on Saturday night. I heard a little of the sermon. Up to that time it had been pretty uj)hill work. There was a great deal of opposition on the subject of holiness all through that part of Illinois, that had grown out of some very grave inconsistencies on the part of some who had been prominent in the profession and exposition of this great and blessed truth. There was a great deal of earnest praying to be done. The Lord helped Brother Wells to preach, but I got under such dread- ful conviction about the way they were feeling about my going to Knoxville, that I left and went down in the woods. It was dark, very dark, and I got down by a big log and asked the Lord if He would make it clear to me whether I was to go to Knoxville. If He said "Go," all right. "But, Lord, I want to know. I don't want to hinder anybody from getting the blessing; and if my going will hinder anybody, or hinder this blessed work, I don't want to go. Now make it so clear what Thy will is in the matter that I will not be mistaken. And now. Lord, I ask thee for this evidence. If it is thy will for me to go, put it into somebody's heart to get me fifty dollars." The rest of the people, who were invited to go to help in the work, had their expenses provided; but the}' didn't provide any for me, for the reason I have already said. So I thought I would ask the Lord for this great sum, for I thought fifty dollars was a great deal to ask for, and if I would ask for that much I would Amanda Smith. 907 probabh' not got it; and if T did not pot it, of course I would not have to j^o. But whilo I was praying, those words camo to mo; "All tilings are possible to him that believoth." And I said. "Lord, I boliovo, if you will give mo the money, you want me to go." And I felt it settled. .lust as I went to get up from my knees, a suggfstioii like this came: " You know the Kuklu.v are down there, and they might kill you." Then I knelt down again, and thought it all over; and I said, "Lord, if being a martyr for Thee would glorify Thee, all right; but then, just to go down there and be butchered by wicked men for Iheirown gratification, without any reference to Thy glory, I'm not willing. And now, Lord, help mo. If Thou dost want me to do this, even then, give me the grace and enable me to do it." Then these words came: " My grace is sufficient for thee." And I Siiid, " All right," and got up. I came up to the tent where I was staying, at Mrs. Little's, with perfect triumph. I never said a word to her, or to anyone. On Sunday morning at the eight o'clock meeting, which was always a very grand meeting, I arose, and the Lord led me to relate my experience; how the Lord sanctified my soul; and the Holy Spirit seemed to fall on the people in a very powerful manner HS I related my experience. And the Spirit said to one lady, "Get Amanda Smith fifty dollars to go to Knoxville." This lady was the wife of a minister, Rev. Mr. Gardner. She had had a wonderful struggle for the blessing of a clean heart, and she told the Lord when she was conijocrating herself to Him, that she would do anything He told her. So when the Spirit suggested this to her, she said, " I'll do it." This she told me afterward. I did not know anything about it at the time. There was a Mrs. Reeves, of Girard, O., there, and her friend, a Mrs. Smith, who had como with her; I had met Mrs. Reeves before, at Urbana, O., and so knew her, and had been at her home. She said to me on Sunday afternoon, just after the afternoon preaching was over: "Mrs. Smith and I are going down to Springfi 'Id to see Lincoln's monument tomorrow morning; we want to start away about eight o'clock: wouldn't rou like to go?" 208 Autobiography of "Oh, I was delighted, I didn't know this was anywhere in the region where Lincoln's monument was. Of course I was glad of the opportunity, and went with them. We were gone all day. I went up into the top of the monument and wrote on the wall, " Rock of Ages." I shall never forget that wonderful scene to me. I had never seen anything like it before in my life. After we had visited round and seen what we could, we came back, and got back to the campground about half-past five o'clock. Brother and Sister Inskip, with a number of the other brethren and friends, had been invited to Mrs, Blank's tent to tea. Mrs. Little and I had been invited also. When I got ihere they were just through tea, and they said, "Oh, Mrs. Smith, we have been waiting for you, but we could not wait any longer." "Oh, I'm so glad; I just this minute got here." Mrs. Inskip was just going off to take charge of the Young People's Meeting; she said, " As soon as you are through, Mrs. Smith, I want j'ou to come down and help me in the Young Peo- ple's Meeting." I noticed that a number of these young people kept smiling and laughing, and I could not tell what was up. So Mrs. Inskip went on, and I sat down to have my tea. Then I noticed several of the gentlemen and ladies, and they talked and smiled, and I said, "What is up? You all seem to be so happy." "Oh, well, Mrs. Smith," they said, "never mind; when you are through, come Into the tent; we want to see you before you go to Mrs. Inskip's meeting." They had a long table spread in the rear of the lent, in the old-fashioned camp meeting style, loaded with good things. Now I had not breathed to a soul what I had prayed about. No one knew but God the prayer I prayed in the woods on Satur- day night before. When I got through my supper I went into the tent; and after a little pleasant passing of words, a gentleman arose and said, "Well, Sister Smith, Sister Gardner, and some other ladies, have got a little purse for you, and they want me to present it to you, for you to go to Knoxville;" then handing itover to me, he presented me with fifty dollars and fifty-five cents. Well, there was my money for Knoxville. Mrs. Gardner told me she could have got a hundred dollars just as easy as she got the fifty; but the word of the Lord to her was, "Get Amanda Smith iafty dollars to go to Knoxville." Amanda Smith. dOd I didn't go till the meeting had been in session about three days. I thought I would' give them a chance to see what the results were before I got there, and what the bad effects might be after I got there. But the Lord was on my side, now may Israel say, to give mr a clear assurance, and to make it plain to others, that I had not gone myself, but that He had sent me. It was terribly uphill during those three days. Prejudice againsi the doctrine was strong. There had been some blessing, but not what they called a break. And yet there were some that were a little afraid that any little indication that had been seen, would be retarded by my appearance. So some of the good folks said, when they heard that I was on the ground, they were very sorry, for I must not expect to be treated as I was treated at home; meaning the North; poor things! I went straight to Sister Little's, for she told me if I did come, to come right to them; they would have room in their tent. They generally had a large tent, for it was the book store, and a kind of general ofBce. And I had my bed-tick, arid would generally get it filled, and then my sheet and quilt and pillows, I took along myself; so" at night, when the office was closed, we put up the partition, and I made my bed down on the floor, and it was beau- tiful. Then, I was up always early in the morning so as to be out of the way before the time to open the office and book store. It was Saturday, about two o'clock, I think, when I got there. When the afternoon service was over, I saw dear Brother Grey, of Philadelphia, standing talking very earnestly to a brother. I did not know who the minister was; but they were very close to Brother Little's tent, and I saw that Brother Grey made several attempts to get away, and every way he would start this brother would get in ahead of him and hinder him. I knew Brother Grey, and knew he was a good man, and I fell sorry for him. At last 1 said to Sister Little, "Who is that man talking to Brother Grey?" "Oh," she said, "that is Rev. Mr. So and So," calling him by name. " He is arguing on the subject of holiness. He is terribly bitter against the doctrine." "What," I said, "and a preacher, too?" "Yes," she said, " and he has had Brother Grey pinned up against that tre»' for more than an hour. I believe he is in some real estate business now, down South here. He is not in the regu- lar ministry." 210 Autobiography op *' Well," I said, "the Lord bless him. We will have to pray him loose." I don't know when he let poor Brother Grey off, but I know it was very late; almost time for the evening service to commence. I do not know who preached Saturday night, but my heart was burdened in prayer. On Sunday morning at eight o'clock. Brother Little was lead the Love Feast service. I was very glad Brother Little had charge of that meeting, as I knew he would not hinder me from speaking as the Lord might lead. Brother Tnskip preached at eleven. So the Lord laid it on my heart very heavily that 1 was to relate my personal experience of how the Lord led me into the blessing of entire sanctification. The brother that had been talking and arguing so with Brother Grey sat way back in the congregation. It was in the big tent; I shall never forget it. There was a side where the colored people all sat, specially. So I sat on that side, quite near the front, and I kept looking to the Lord to indicate to me when he wanted me to talk. The testimonies and songs went on. There was a beau- tiful spirit in the meeting. Finally the time came when the Spirit bade me speak. I arose; a good brother from Philadelphia, I for- get his name, sat very near me, and he was watching this brother that had been such an opponent; so, as I related how the Lord had led me, and my struggles and difficulties, the Lord blessed me and gave me great liberty in speaking. My! how my soul tri- umphed. The Spirit of God seemed to fall on the people; it took hold of this brother; I suppose I talked about fifteen minutes, and when I got through I had not more than taken my seat when this brother sprang to his feet, and holding up his hand he said: '* Hold on, brethren, hold on, hold on! " and walked to the front, weeping like a child. Oh! how he wept! "I want to say one word," The shouts and amens and hallelujahs were full and free. The brother turned round and faced the congregation, straightened himself up, and braced himself, so as to control his feelings till he could get a start. Finally he said, "Brethren, I have been a Methodist preacher for so many years; I was converted at such a time; I entered the ministry," etc. " I have had a great deal of prejudice against these brethren coming here, and I have fought this subject of holiness." And he went on with his confession. But such a confession! And he ended by saying, "This colored sister, who has given us her experience, God bless hep." Then he Amanda Smith. 211 Came over and took hold of my hand and said "Lord bless you, sister." Then he finished his testimony, as follows: **When I heard this colored sister tell how (hkI had l.d lur and brought her into this blessed exi)erience, the darkness swept away antl (Jod has saved me, and I see the truth as I never did before. Glory to CJod." Oh! what a shout! Frt)m that time the tide r<..sr and swe^it on. The last night of the meeting cam.-, aiul 1 w.is in Sister Little's tent. It was eleven o'clock at night. Sist.r Little had not been very well, and I was getting ready for bed; but the cur- tain was down, and I was sitting by Sister Little's bed talking with her and rubbing her utm. Brother Inskip did not know I was in the tent, and he came in; and I heard him say to Hroth.-r Little, "We have had a grand day; the Lord has been' with us; and, after all, I was mistaken in not wanting Sister Smith to come. I tell you. Brother Little, God sent her." And Sister Little wanted to say, "Amanda Smith is here now; " but I said, "No, no, don't say it; don't let him know it." This I heard with my own ears; and I would not let Sister Little call Brother Inskip. God bless him, for I know he only wished me well, and his only reason for thinking I should not go, was for my own good, and that of the meeting as well. But how far God's ways are above our ways, and His thoughts above our thoughts. It is safe to obey always, even though you may not always be able to explain. Amen. Amen. 1 remained a few days in town, and held some meetings with my own people, which the Lord greatly blessed. Quite a revival broke out, and a number were converted. On Saturday afternoon, after the close of the camp meeting, I was down street doing a little shopping. On my way home I heard singing in th.- Presby- terian Church, though I didn't know it was a Presbyterian Church, then. The singing was beautiful; it sounded so much like home. They were singing that dear old hymn! "Jesus, Lover of my Soul," to the old tune. I listened, and wanted to go in, but did not dare to. The church was on the same block with the Metho- dist Church. I said to myself, "If I didn't have this parcel I would go in." Just opposite, on the other side of the street, a colored nurse girl was out in the yard with a little child. I said to her. " What kind of a church is that where they are singing so? " 212 Autobiography op " I don't know," she said, "but I think it is a Presbyterian.* " I would go in if I didn't have these parcels." " I will keep them for you," she said; " I will be out here with the child for some time." So I handed her my parcels, and I went into the church. When I went to go in, there lay right across the door a large New- foundland dog. I stood for a minute, and I thought, "Well, he must be a pretty good sort of a dog to be at church on Saturday morning." I touched him with my foot. He quietly lifted his head, looked at me, and lay down again, and I stepped over him and went in and sat down on a seat just behind the door. The first thing that struck me was the face of the minister; it was as radiant as a sunbeam. How beautiful! His name was McEwen. After he had given out some notices he announced his text, Isa. 35:8: " A highway shall be there, and a way, and it shall be called the way of holiness," etc. And he preached a straight, clear, orthodox holiness sermon; and the Spirit of the Lord came upon him and upon all the people. He was not demonstrative; calm, but. Oh, deep and powerful! The people wept and sobbed. I wanted to shout " Glor}^ to Jesus;" but I said, "Oh, Lord, help me, and hold me still; " for I knew they were not used to any such thing, and it would have embarrassed the minister and confused, if not frightened, the people; and the only good it would have done, if any, at that time, would have been to me only. So the Lord turned the big gush of praise into oil, and a wave of blessing passed so sweetly over my soul. Oh! it was like honey and oil mingled. It was indescribably beautiful, and sweet and heavenly. I shall never forget it. Praise the Lord] When the meeting closed the people passed out. I heard some ladies say, "What in the world was the matter with Mr. McEwen? I never heard him preach so before." "Oh, wasn't that a wonderful sermon?" said one. And another said: " I think he has been to that holiness camp meeting." And so he had, and had found the pearl of greatest price, even the blessing of a clean heart. A lady came up to me and said so kindly (for they did not seem to be surprised to see me), "You are Amanda Smith?" "Yes." "I saw you at the camp meeting the other day. Our min- ister has got the blessing." Amanda Smith. 218" ** Yes/* I said, •' I know the ring." *' Wt' have been praying for liim for five years. He's such a beautiful spirit, you would enjoy meeting liim." So siie appointed an afternoon, and 1 went to her house, and what a blessed afternoon I spent in her parlor, and that at Knox- vilk', Tenn. 1 sang for tiiem, and prayed, and told them how the Lord led me into the blessed soul rest after years of wandering. And I believe he Lord made it a farther blessing to this dear minister. So Mrs. McEwen, the lady who had invited me to her house, (for that was her name, though siie and the ministt-r were no rela- tion to each other), and who was a beautiful C^hristian lady, told me that she had got the blessed experience of full salvation .some years before, reading Mrs. Phebe Palmer's book, "The Way of Faith;" and for years she had taken "The Guide to .Holiness." She said there was not one in their church, when she sought and found the blessing; but that there were two other ladies, friends of hers, and members of the same church, who, like herself, longed for a deeper experience, and their custom was to meet once a week, and pray for the minister, and pray for themselves. One day she went alone into her garret, so as to be away from every one, and there, as she knelt and prayed, the Lord seemed to open the windows of Heaven to her soul, and she was flooded with light and peace. She said: " I was so filled, I praised the Lord at the top of my voice. I came down and put on my things and went to see my dear Mrs. Blank. She was delighted; and we had a good time rejoicing together. A few days later she came out clear. Then the other. Now, we must still pray more earnestly for our minister, that he may see the truth and get the blessing." She said he was such a good man, and everyone liked him; but still there was a lack of real unction in his preaching. But she said all these years they never breathed it to him that they were praying for him. She had told him about the "Guide," and given him a copy several times when he made his pastoral call, but every week for five long years these ladies met and prayed for their minister, and kept quiet, and now the answer had come. Oh, how full of delight and joy they were! I think there might be similar results if there were more pray- ing in the closet for the preacher. Don't talk much, but united, pray. 214 Autobiography of Amanda Smith. " Pray, if thou canst or canst not speak, But pray with faith in Jesus' name." She said about a year or two after she had got the experience her husband failed in business, and they lost nearly everything they had. But she said " The Lord kept me so quiet in my soul; and I believe but for this grace I never could have gone through what I did." She said her husband could not understand it, and sometimes he would feel vexed with her because she did not worry. "He said I seemed as though I did not care. But Oh, how I had to hold on to God for him. It seemed he would lose his mind at times. Praise the Lord, He kept me. Oh, Sister Smith, what deep waters God brought me through. How true His Word." "Many shall be purified, And made white and tried; But the hand that purifies, Tries." So we are quite safe. Only hold still. Amen. rnAPTER XVIT. SEA CLIFF CAMP MEETIN(;, .H LY. 1872 — FIRST THOUOnTS OF AFRICA — MAZIES EDUCATION AND MARRIAGE — MY EXPERIENCE AT YARMOUTH. Persons often ask me how I came to think of j^'oin^r to Africa. While at this camp meeting' I had my home at Mrs. Battershell's. Their beautiful cottaf?e was the finest and larp'St there at that time. Mrs. Battershell was a cousin of Mrs. Inskip's. She had told me when I came to Sea ClilTshe wanted the privilege of enter- taining me at her new cottage, so I had a very pretty little room all to myself, and went in and out as I chose. One day during the camp meeting they had a mission day, and as there were different speakers, some from India, some from China, some from Japan, and some from South America, I think, I went to the meeting. I heard all the speakers, and was very much interested in the meeting. Just as they were about to close the meeting there came up a little shower of rain, and as I had no umbrella, I hurried cut and on to my cottage. The meeting had made an impression on my mind, and as I walked along I kept thinking of what I had heard, and all at once it came to me th*at I had not heard them say anything about Africa. Then I remembered when I was quite young I had heard my father and mother talk about Africa. I remembered too. that I used to see a large paper, away back in the forties called ''The Brother Jonathan Almanac," something like thi Frank Leslie, It had large pictures, and Africans in their cos tumes and huts, and Indians in their wigwams, great boa con strictors. bears, lions and panthers; and some of the pictun-s wer» horrid, as I remember them now. Well, all the old farmers round about where we lived u.s»'d to take those papers, and one*' in awhile father would bring home one of Iht-m for us children to look at, and my good mother would (315) 316 Autobiography of always see that it was not torn to pieces. So we had it to look at for a time, then she would carefully fold it up and put it away. I remembe • what a treat it was when she would say we could have it to look at again. We would spread it on the floor, and then all of us children would get down, and what times we would have over "Brother Jonathan." So as I was walking along now, thinking of this missionary meeting, I heard some one call out, "Amanda Smith," and I turned, and a lady overtook me and said as she came up to me; "Well, Amanda Smith, how did you like the meeting?" " It was very nice, and I liked it. But I did not hear them say a word about Africa, and I have been wondering if all the people in Africa are converted. I remember hearing father and mother talk about them a long time ago, but I have not heard any- thing of them since, and I was wondering." She smiled, and said, "Oh! I would to God they were. Have you never heard of Melville B. Cox, our first missionary of the M. E. Church to Africa?" "No," I said, "what about him?" Then she gave me the history as we went on together. As she told mo the story, and then said what his last words were when he died at Monrovia, Africa,— " Though a thousand fall, let not Africa be given up,"— Oh! what a deep impression it made on my mind and heart. When we got to the corner she turned and went to her cottage. I went into Mrs. Battershell's and went straight up to my own room, locked the door, and got on my knees. What a time of con- secration, what a struggle I had! I said, " Lord, Africa's need is great, and I cannot go, though I would like to. But Thou know- est I have no education, and I do not understand the geography, so I would not know how to travel." For I thought that the next great qualification for African work, next to a full consecration and sanctification, which I knew T had, was to understand the geography, so as to know how to travel in Africa. Of course T was ignorant and green, and the Lord knew that, and had patience with me. So I said, " Lord, I am too old to learn now, but if you will help me I will educate my daughter, Mazie, and she can go." Then it came to me, would I be willing to have her go? Oh, what a struggle 1 Amanda Smith. 217 I seemed to sec a gvanl lit-athen town. There wero the great boa-constrictors, and there the great lions and panthrrs, and there was my ix)or child. Oh! how I wept. Hut I said, " Lord, some- body must go to Africa, and I am too old to learn, so I cannot go. Hut I can. I will, I do, consecrat*' my child to Thoe for Africa. My heart aches, but. Lord, help me. I give her to Thee. She is Thine, and Thou canst take care of her." I suppose I was there for an hour or two, but I never left my knees till I felt I had given her fully to God for Africa. "Now, Lord,." I said, "open the way for me to get her edu- cated, so that she will not have the difficulty that 1 have if you want her to go. Lord, I don't want her to read books and get worked up in that way, but help me to educate her, and then sanc- tify her wholly and send her whither Thou wilt." When I arose from my knees, my heart was calm and restful. And now my thought was to get her educated. I prayed, and watched every indication. Several days later I chanced to meet that good man, Dr. Ward, and during our conversation I began telling him my e.xperience, and how I was looking to the Lord about my daughter's education, and asked him where would be a good school for her. "Oh! " said he, " I wish I had known this yesterday. I have just given away a scholarship to some one (calling the name), and if I had known of your wish I would have been so glad to give it to you." Well, it seemed that all was lost. But still I hoped. This was the first of my thinking of going to Africa. I had worked so hard, and helped Mazie. She had been at Oberlin for a year, and at Xenia, and got on very nicely. Hut I could not keep up the expense. But at that time I was only think- ing to fit her for a teacher, and selfishly had planned in my mind that if I could help it she should not have to slave and work hard day and night as I had done. So I thought when I got old she would be in a position to help herself and me, and I could keep the home and look after everything while she was away teaching, and we coujd be so happy together, .so that my last days would be happy. But, alas! how disappointed I have been, even in the shadow of such a hope. Every wish in that direction has been swept away, and I have had to surrender that cherished hope. I thought 218 Autobiography op I could not boar it. Oh! how I had to cry to God for enduring grace. And He has given it, and I am wonderfully upheld by His almighty hand. His grace is sufficient, even when we are disap- pointed in our brightest hopes. She is married and settled in her own home, and I am where I was when I first started, so far as that is concerned. And now my prayer before the Lord is, that He will save her soul in His own way. While her name is on the church record, yet like so many dear souls, I fear she has but little spiritual life! •Time went on, and I saw no way to get my daughter educated for Africa. One summer we were at Ocean Grove with Mrs. Sanders. She had bought some lots, and they had a fine cottage right on the lake. So she invited me and Mazie to come down and spend the summer for the camp meeting. They had put up a large tent, which Mazie and I occupied, on one of these vacant lots, beauti- fully situated, near the lake. Thej-^ had a great deal of company, so Mazie and I used to go in, and wait on the table, and help with the work. One morning I was busy helping in the kitchen before I went to the meeting; Mazie had been waiting on the table in the dining room; and Mrs. Sanders said to me: "Amanda Smith, come into the parlor; I want to speak to you." I did so, and she said, " I see that Mazie is just as smart as a steel trap; now, why don't you get her into school? " Then I told her my story, how I had been praying, and how I had been watching and waiting for the Lord to open some way. I told her I had done the best I could, and the expenses were so heavy I found I could not keep Mazie in school. I had done what I could for her for two years, so I thought she would have to do the next herself; I had given it up. But as she talked on I seemed to see this was the way the Lord was to answer my prayer. It was just as the camp meeting was closing, so Mrs. Sanders said: "Now, if you find a place for her to go to school, 1 will help you to get all her outfit, and send her, if you can do the other." I thanked hrr, and told her I would do what I could. I had heard of a good school in Baltimore, and as my aunt lived there I wrote and asked her about it; she kindly replied, and spoke highly Amanda Smith. 219 of tho school; so that what she said confirmed what I had hoard before; and then she was where she could look after my child; so this decided me. The next week Mrs. Sanders went to Xew York and bou<,'ht all her outfit, everythin'c, and I went to work and got her ready, and I think it was about the third week in September we were off to Baltimore. She was at that school a yej.r. Strange to say, just before the close of the year I got a letter from the matron,' and she said Mazie was very smart; she was getting along nicely.' If I could only just leave her for one year longer it would be th«' making of her. It was a pity to takf her just now. And I won- dered if I could stand it another year. I went to the Lord and prayed, and asked Him to help me and strengthen me, and to open the way for me to get the means to keep her just another year. About two or three weeks after I had decided to let h<'r remain another year, the Lord seemed to open my way clearly to go to England. I only expected to stay three months, and I thought how nice it would be, while she was in school, and was not losing any time, and would be well cared for, and under good discipline and control, and then my aunt could look after her. Ev«Tything seemed to be favorable. So in July, 1878, after I had gone to Baltimore and spent a week with her, I left her, and went to England. Instead of getting back in three months, ;is I had thought and planned, I was away for ov«'r twelve years. Aft«'r I had been in England about three months, the Lord made it very clear to me that I was to remain longer; so I thought three months longer; but when six months had passed, my way seemed to be shut up to come home, but open to remain. Now, people say, " But how was that? " That is just what I say; for I do not understand it yet, and could not explain it; but I am just as sure that God was in it, as I am of my own existence. It is one of God's inexplicable dealings. I wrote and sent money home to my daughter, and had made all arrangements for her for two years. Then she wrote and told me she thought I had paid money enough for her. and that she wanted to come out of school, and had an opportunity for a situation as teacher; so I agreed to that. I knew she was clever enough, and quite able to do this, if she cho.se. A little while l;jt«ron she wrot*- me that a young man had proposed marriage to her. I told her 1 had rather she would not 330 Autobiography of marry. She had quite time enough, and it would be so much better for her to come to England and spend at least a year or two first. I saw that her teaching plan was pretty well upset when she got the marrying spirit; and she was like many other young people; they cannot hear reason or anything when they take a notion to get married. If I had been at home, I think I should have for- bidden it; but being away, I thought if anything should happen I would always blame myself. But I urged her to come to England and wait a while; then she wrote me she had decided to do so. Many of my friends in England, who had been interested in her, were delighted. They had written to her, and she was all for coming to England. So I got the money all ready and was just about to send it for her to come. All the arrangements were made. But I thought to myself, " I will wait for a letter from Mazie before I send it." And when the letter came she wrote me very frankly that the young man had persuaded her to wait till after she was married, and then come to England. "No," I said, "if you come to England married you won't belong to me; you will belong to some one else; and if you can risk losing the opportunity that not many colored girls have had, and that you will not have again, and think more of the man, and take him in preference after all I have said, I guess the safest plan is that you remain. " And I think so yet. But she could not have got a kinder husband, or one that did a better part by her, if I had been living right here with her. It is wonderful how the Lord provided in that. In answer to prayer, the Lord opened my way to attend Yar- mouth Cam.p Meeting. There I heard for the first time of the landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock. It seemed the Lord had appointed that grove especially for a camp meeting grove. There I first saw the famous Hutchinson family. Mr. Asa Hutch- inson, his wife, two sons, and a daughter, Miss Abbie, how well I remember them; their noble, kind-heartedness. They had me sing with them several times. Although all have passed away, the precious memory of them still remains. Through the kindness of Rev. B. F. Pomeroy, of the Troy Conference, I had my quarters during the camp meeting in one of his little tents. I shall never forget how kind he and his dear wife were to me. He used often to sit down and tell me wonder- Amanda Smith. 231 ful things about God's dealings with liim, which ofton strcnj^th- encd my faith, and h»'lpod me. Praise thf Lord! Many lights there are along the shore that never grow dim. I had been asked by the pastor of the Methodist Church, at Martha's Vineyard, to go to Martha's Vineyard Camp Meeting. He said he believed God would have me go, and that they had a society tent that they would put up on the camp ground, "and," said he, "you can stay with us and we will look after you." This was on Wednesday. He said he must leave on Friday, but I could come with his wife and children. So I told Brother Pomeroy about it. He seemed to think it was not just the thing for me to go. He said that years ago that used to be the great place, the power of the Lord used to come on that camp ground in the old-fashioned way. " They have but very little of the Spirit now-a-days. They go more as a picnic, not the Holy Ghost times of the past." Well, he was always so good in his counsel that T thought it was the thing, of course, not to go; still, I thought that if they were so orderly and lifeless the more need there was for me to go, I might help a little. At the close of the morning service at the stand that day the Presiding Elder called out to all the tent holders within the circle to close the front of their tent, and there was to be no walking inside the circle from half-past twelve till two, when the afternoon service would commence. During this interval I look my Bible and went into the woods about a half milf" away, all alone, to ask God about going to Martha's Vineyard, and there, as I prayed and told the Lord how I had been asked to go, that Brother P. was a good man, and he said he thought I had better not go, and I wanted He should show me His will. " Lord," I said. " if Thou dost want me to take any message I will do it for Thee." So it was whispered to me to read, and 1 opened my Bible to see what the Lord would give me. Mai. 14, 1st verse: "And the Lord said go speak as I command you." I was afraid and said, " O, Lord, I am a strangt'r and a color'-il woman, and the people are proud and wicked, as has been told me," and I wept and trem- bled, but he said, " Go, do as I ccrmmand you. " I arose from my knees and went back to the tent, but I did 323 Autobiography op not dare to toll Brothor P. what I had done. So the last day came, and when Brother P. began to take down their tent thoy wanted me to go with them to another camp meeting, but I said, "No, the Lord bids me go to Martha's Vineyard." They said they thought I was mistaken. But I said nothing. I prayed for the Lord to give me means. I would take it as an indication that I was to go. The next morning I went into Father Snow's tent. We had a wonderful meeting. After the regular meeting was closed, several people asked me to sing, and a crowd gathered around. Some were standing on the benches. Someone dropped a two dollar note in my lap; that was my first token for the money, and I looked up and praised the Lord. Then there came a one dollar bill, then another, and so on till I had seven dollars. Just then a strange lady turned to me and said: " Have you ever been to Martha's Vineyard?" '*No." •* I believe the Lord wants you there, and if you will go I will give you a good place to sleep." This lady's name was Mrs. Jenkins. She said her daughter was on from Baltimore, and had taken a cottage for the summer; that she had such a nice colored woman who was nurse for her. Then she wrote her name and address on a card and said, " I leave to-day and want you to come to our cottage, if you come." I thanked her and said, " All right, madam." When the day came I started off with Mrs. and the children and servant. The Lord seemed to have ordered everything. Going up on the boat I went to pay my fare, and some one said, " Your fare has been paid." " Praise the Lord," but I said I did not know the parties, so that I could thank them. So several of us sat down to dinner; when I went to pay they said, *' Your bill is settled," and so there was another, "praise the Lord! " I could see so far very clearly the hand of the Lord in it. When we reached the camp ground, Martha's Vineyard, it was found that the society tent that the pastor had told me about had been exchanged and another sent in its place, and after all we did not have any tent, so what should we do. I said to the pastor's wife, "What shall I do?" "I don't know," she said, "what we shall do now, we will have to see about sending it back and getting our own." Amanda Smith. 223 "Well," 1 said, "I will go up lo Mrs. Jenkins, who gave me Ikt address," and, sure enough, it seemed to be just tlu- plact-, so that '* In some way or other the Lord does provide." Now it cami* Sunday. O, how the Lord suppli.-d my n.-.-ds, one dollar, two dollars at a time. I kept watching for the lim.- to deliver my message. In the afternoon I went into a large tent where they were hold- ing meetings before the approaching service. I sat down quietly, and they sang and prayed. 1 do not remember the minister's name who was leading tlie meeting. Just before the close he called upon me to sing. I arose to sing, but the Lord said, " Deliver the mes- sage first; " so I quoted the pasi5age of Scrii)ture, Mai. 4th chapter, 1st verse: "Behold the day Cometh that shall burn as an oven, etc." There was a great crowd around as well as inside the tent, and as I lifted my hand and pointed my finger towards the door, repeating the text that was given me, the people looked astounded. Then I sang, "All I want is a little more faith in Jesus." The Lord put His seal on this message, also on the song. A lady from Providence, R. I., was in this tent meeting. She had come with a very definite object, to seek the blessing of a clean heart. She was called a swell lady; she was one of the ones rather up, and did not condescend to things of low estate! So as I began to sing, "AH I want is a little more faith in Jesus," she walked out of the tent and said to herself, as she passed out, " I came here to seek the blessing of a clean heart, I did not come to liear a negro ditty," and the blessed Holy Spirit said to her, "Is not that your need, 'a little more faith in Jesus?' " Then her eyes were opened, and she said, " O, Lord, I see." Then she went into her tent and there prayed, and the Lord sent the baptism and gave her the desire of her heart. Some time after this, when Brothers Inskip and McDonald were holding their meeting at Providence, R. I., one morning I went into the meeting about one o'clock, (testimony meeting) I didn't know of this lady's struggle at the time, but just as I got into the door, I heard this lady say, " Amanda Smith." Her back was to me. I sat down quietly to listen to her testimony. She went on and gave it in the words above. Now about the message. About four months after this camp meeting closed, I was holding m.-etings in one of liic Methodist 224 Autobiography of Amanda Smith. churches in Worcester, Mass., and a gentleman who was Superin- tendent of a large Sabbath School, (a Mr. C.) said to me one day, " Amanda Smith, do you remember being at Martha's Vineyard at such a time?" "Yes," I said. •* Do you remember the Sunday in the tent when you got up and quoted that passage from Malachi and sang?" "Yes." "Well," said he, "the Lord sent that message to me.'* Mr. C. was head clerk in one of the largest dry goods stores in Worcester, and at the same time was Superintendent of a large Sabbath School, and he worked very hard, and was very tired, and he had gone to this camp meeting for his vacation, and he and his young people all went out there for a vacation more than for the purpose of attending the meeting. They would go to preaching in the morning, but would not attend any of the social meetings. In the afternoon they would generally go off for a game of croquet, or on the lake, boating. When they heard the singing in this tent a whole party of them were just on their way to the croquet ground. They stopped at the tent door to see the colored woman, and to hear what she had to say. He just got there as I repeated the text and he said it came to his heart like an arrow. He went back to his tent and began to pray, and he said the Lord showed him how near backsliding he was, how far away, so that he was really alarmed, and that text saved him through God's mercy. I praised the Lord that he enabled me to obey him. It was not a little thing, it was a trial, but see the blessing that came out of it to this brother. I then praised the Lord that the message was heard by the one, and the song by the other. It pays to obey. CHAPTER XVIII. PITTMAN CHURCH, PHFLADELPHIA — HOW I BECAME THE OWNER OF A HOUSE, AND WHAT BECAME OP IT — THE MAYFLOWER MIS- SION, BROOKLYN — AT DR. CUYLER'S. It was iu '78. I was holding meeting, first at Manayunk, Brotlier Rakestraw's; then at Holmesburg, Brother Gillingham's; then at Camden, then at Norristown, Brotlier Day's. We had a good work at all these places. Many souls were saved and believ- ers built up. Then I was called to Horton Street. Brother Robinson was pastor. There the Lord blessed us mightily. There was a sweep- ing revival. Every night for more than two weeks the church was packed, altar and pulpit. Some of the good folks really got tried because the people crowded so. I remember one Sunday night the aisles and pulpit steps were crowded. Poor old Brother Taska, — now in heaven — had hard work to get into the pulpit, and when he did get there he was obliged to stand. He said he would not come again in such a crowd. After the address was over we tried to make room for the altar service. It was not long till the altar was filled with seekers, some for pardon, some for purity. I noticed a young man who sat on a chair in the aisle and seemed to be deeply interested. He seemed as though he wanted to come forward; and then, Chere was a young lady with him. I watched him. All at once he got up and laid his hat and coat down and came forward, and just as he put his hand on the altar rail and was in the act of kneeling down, the Lord blessed him so powerfully that he clapi)ed his hands and shouted, Glory to God, I am saved. He, like the p(M)r man in the Gospel, the leper that came to Jesus, said, "Lord, if Thou wilt Thou canst make me clean," and Jesus said to him in return, " I will; be thou clean." (225) 336 Autobiography op As he turned to face the congregation, his sister, that he had not seen for years, was just behind him. She had been praying for him, but she did not know that he was there, nor did he know that she was there. She sprang to him and threw her arms around his neck and they had a good time of rejoicing together. This had a marvelous effect upon the congregation. A number came forward, and many professed to be saved that night. One dear woman that I met last fall at the Saturday night holi- ness meeting, told me she was converted at that meeting; also her husband and two children. She told me how she disliked me because I was a colored woman; how she went to church full of prejudice, but when God saved her He took it all out, and now she loves me as a sister and thinks I have a beautiful color! Of course, I call that a good conversion to begin with. Some people don't get enough of the blessing to take prejudice out of them, even after they are sanctified. Some time after this I went to Pitman Church. Rev. George Mc was pastor. The church was not finished. We held meetings in the lecture room, a fine large room that would hold over three hundred, I suppose, and every night it was packed. Here we had a grand time from the start. On Sunday afternoon we had a marvelous meeting. At that meeting dear Brother Alkhorn got the blessing of sanctification, after seeking it for thirty years, as he said in his testimony when he arose. I shall never forget that Sabbath afternoon. The Lord wonderfully helped me to speak for Him. Brother Mc was a grand, good man to work with, though he was not very definite on the line of holiness, but he said to me, "Sister Smith, you go ahead; I am with you." So he put no bands on and I had perfect freedom, thank God. Brother Alkhorn was a local preacher; was a converted man and had 'been for years, and always longed for the blessing of full salvation. He was thorough Weslej'an as well as Scriptural in his views of the doctrine. He said he would preach it and sometimes would believe he had it, then he would meet with min- isters that did not see it as he did, and declare that all was done at conversion. Then he would get in the dark again, and this was the way he went on for years. He kept a bakery on Lumber street. I got to know him and the tamily very well. He was a member of the Western Metho- Amanda Smith. SW dist Church, and 1 think Dr. Patt.rson was the pastor at ihe time of Ills death. lit' sat that Sunday afternoon about tliree pews from the altar, while many testimonies were ^'iven — many of them very definite and cMear — to the experience and power of this great salvation. Then we had an altar service, and I urged those who really desired to know the experience for themselves to come forward and kneel at the altar, and settle it then and there. A number came forward. I saw Brother A. get up deliberately, take otf his overcoat, fold it together, and then take his hat and cane and walk forward and hand them to some of the brethren. And as he kneeled at the altar, he said, '* Brethren, I want the blessing." And he began to pray like he wanted it, indeed; and in a little while he sank down into a calm, and said, "It is done, praise the Lord. The bl(M)d cleanseth; glory to Jesus." He arose and bore the testimony that I have already given. In about a year, I think it was, after this, he met with a sad accident; was thrown from his wagon, and in a few days died. But, O, he triumphs over death, hell and the grave! I lost a true friend when he was taken, that is, as the world would say, but I have a never dying friend in Jesus. Praise His dear name forever. At the same altar, kneeling just a little further along from where Brother Alkhorn kneeled, a great big man, a Dutchman, was kneeling. He had been seeking the Lord for fifteen years, off and on, but never got into clear light. The people at the altar were all getting blessed, and rising one after the other, and it was getting late and time for the meeting to close. This pcxjr man got into an awful struggle. He cried out, " Lord, save me." He wouldn't get up. "Hold on," I shouted, "you are nearly out." I felt things were giving way, and I said, "All you need, all you want, is a little more faith in Jesus," and his poor wife felt she could not hold on any longer. She came inside the altar and was just about to throw her arms around his neck. She was over- come with sympathy for him. I caught her and said, "Oh, what- ever you do, don't touch him; you will hinder him." "Oh," she said, " I have prayed so long." I held on to her and kept her back, while the brethren were encouraging his faith. In a ftw minutes he sprang to his feet, 228 Autobiography op shouting at the top of his voice, " I am saved, I am saved. Glory to Jesus! Glory to Jesus! " I let his wife go and he caught her up in his arms, then he let her go and caught hold of some of the brethren. Oh, how he shouted! I kept out of the way; of course I wouldn't interfere. So this was a good start for our meeting for the week. We went on for ten da^s, and there were scores converted. During all this time the interest never flagged one night. Brother M. wanted me to staj^ longer, but I could not. I had an engagement at Long Island, with Brother Hollis. It was at this time my house in Philadelphia was planned for, without my knowledge. About two weeks after, I got a letter from Mrs. James Orr. She said, "Some friends are planning to buy you a house, but they don't want you to know it, so don't let on that I have told you." I was dreadfully frightened, and as soon as I had read the let- ter I got on my knees and pra} ed that the Lord would not let them succeed in getting the house that they were planning for. I thought it was too much for me. I said, the idea of a poor woman like me having a house given to her! There must be something wrong about it. Oh, how I prayed! Several days after this I got another letter, saying that the house they were looking at and wanted, they could not get. There was something that was not just satisfactory in regard to the deed, so I thought the Lord had answered my prayer, and it was all right. In a day or two I was off again, holding meetings. After ten days, I came home. A number of letters were waiting for me — two from Philadelphia. I opened and read them. The first was from the same person. She said, " Don't say I told you, for they want to surprise you. They have looked at another house and have made arrangements to buy, and will pay so much to close the bargain, such a day." That was all done two days before I got home, as I saw by the date of the letter. Then I thought it all over. I said, I have never asked the Lord to give me a house, and I wonder if He really wants me to have it. It must mean something, for why should these people persist in getting the house for me? I am a colored woman, and they are all white, and they are strangers. So then I got down and prayed the Lord to bless and prosper those who had Amanda Smith. 0^9 undertaken it. The lady that wrote me had told me how that everybody was favorable to it, how much Chaplain Gibbeii and his wife were interested and had given quite a sum to start witli. Well, it did look as though the Lord was in it. Then I opened the other letters. There was one from the very gentleman who was the i)roposer, and who had set the thing going, Brother Andrew Marshall. He was well known in Phila- delphia, one of the leading men in Pitman, C'hurch at the time, and a man doing a large busine.ss in the bakery and confectionery, and a good man, so I could but feel the Lord was in it. He told me all about it. The house was three thousand dollars, subject to the ground rent of sixty dollars a year. Two thousand dollars of this money had already been provided for through friends of Mr. Ma , so that I had nothing to do with this part of it in any way; I must only be ready to come at the time they said. So away 1 went for two weeks more. When I returned there were letters. The house was bought, the deed was made out in my name, and I only to come on. They said you need not bring anything if you don't care to. Some of the ladies of Pitman with Mrs. Orr, had gone to work and fur- nished two rooms, the front bed-room upstairs, and the front parlor downstairs; everything nice and comfortable. So I got ready and went. I took a very few things; I had not many. My dear old irons and ironing-board, that had seen me through so many hard places in New York, I couldn't forget them nor leave them behind! Then the little, low, old chair that I had kneeled beside and fought such a battle, on the remembrance of the New York riot after I was sanctified! I said, " I must take these things anyhow." It was late on Saturday evening before I got otf, so I did not get to the house till about seven p. m. Then, sure enough, at 1817 Addison street, a nice little three story brick house, nice white marble steps in front, all lighted with gas! It was very nice. Then there were a number of friends gathered, and a good warm fire. I didn't know what to do or say, and I praised the Lord, and thanked the people, and I said, " Is it really mine?" Then they handed me the deed. Then I said, *• Let us pray." That seemed out of order, for we were all too happy to pray, 80 we sang the Doxology. ^SO Autobiography op " Let me walk up and down in it," I said; so we went upstairs in all the rooms; I looked in all the closets, everywhere, then we went down in the basement, then I had the nicest tea! The ladies had provided everything. It all seemed very fine. Everything went on nicely for about a year, then came a trial. The great Centennial had started hopes and expectations in many that were never realized; so it was with Brother M. In this extremity he got Brother Robinson, one of the leading mem- bers in Salem M. E. Church, to help him meet some liabilities which were urgent, which he did. Then it appears that Brother M. failed on his side, which caused great dissatisfaction and unpleasantness between these friends. I knew but little about it. I didn't try £o know. I felt that what they had done was out of real kindness to me, though bad luck came of it, as it often does out of our best motives. This placed me in a very embarrassing position. They were both Christian gentlemen and business men, and who was I to dictate to them about what they were doing so kindly for me. It got into the papers, through Brother Wallace, that the friends in Philadelphia, had given Amanda Smith a house, and also one at Ocean Grove. Mr. M. called my attention to the fact. I said, " That is a mistake; all I have at Ocean Grove, is this: the committee are always very kind and they do not charge me for my tent and ground during the time I stay, but that is all." "Brother M.," I said, "you can correct that; see Brother Wallace and tell him," for he was then editor of the "Home Journal," and it was in that paper that the statement was made. "If I do it," I said, "it will look as if I were dissatisfied, or like casting some reflection on your management of affairs." "Yes," he said, "I will see Brother Wallace," but I don't know whether he did or not. From that time, according to the best I could learn, the donations to complete the payment on the house stopped; but so far as that was concerned, I had nothing at all to do. I had just one hundred and fifty dollars in hand. This the Lord had given me at different camp meetings during the sum- mer. I had given the one hundred to Mr. M. I kept the rest. I had my house all papered and painted inside, and a tin roof put on; it was not very long till it was all done. Always before this time I had managed, and had enough to Amanda Smith. 231 get on with nicely, unci I ihoufrht as the hoiiso was mine, it was right I should put it in good order, tiien I would not have to do it in a long time again; but this statement in the papers a tfec ted me personally, greatly. I went about holding meetings as usual, but got but very little to what I had received before. People said, •*She is all right, she has two houses, one at Ocean Grove, one in Philadelphia," so, of course, if I had two houses I was rich and needed nothing to eat or drink I Well, I did not know what to do, but the Lord helped me to hold still. I came home from a tour in Ohio, and went to Ocean Grove Camp Meeting. I had been there two days when a telegram came, saying: " Come home at once. Marshall," "What in the world is the matter? " I wonden-d. I got ready and went on, at about ten a. m. Went to the store, saw Brother M. He was bright and happy. "What is the matter?" I asked. Then he told me he was embarrassed, and it was necessary for him to meet a note at such a time. "Well," I said, "what do you want me to do?" **I thought r would ask you if you would sign a mortgage, then we could borrow the money out of the Building Association till such a time, and I would get straight." " You know. Brother M.," I replied, "I don't know a bit about the Building Association, I never could get it through my head, I have never done anything but pay my rent, that is all. I can lead a prayer meeting now and then, and that is about all I know." "This will be all right," he said. "Well, if you say so, I will do it." So he went and had the papers made out. I had made myself responsible to the Building Association for fifteen dollars a month. I had never paid so heavy a rent before; then, five dollars a month for my ground rent, made it twenty dollars a month, besides other expenses; but I did the best I could. Mr.Clegg, who was the Secretary of the Building Association, was very kind, and I told him T didn't know how in the work! I could ever carry it. He told me to hold on and it would be better after a while. Some months had passed, I don't know how long, when Brother M. came to me again and asked me to help him meet another engagement. So I went again: the papers were made out. 333 Autobiography op When Mr. Ma stated to the lawyer the object of our coming again, the lawyer turned to me and looked at me right in the face, and said to me, "Do you want to sign this paper?" " Well," I said, " I suppose I will have to." Then he gave a quiet grumble to himself, as it were, and began to write, and 1 was asked to sign my name. That look he gave me seemed to have an expression in it like this, "Well, you are a fool,*' and that is just about the way I felt, but still I signed the papers and became responsible still further to the Building Association. Now, with my ground rent and taxes I must pay forty dollars a month. I told Mr. M. T could not do it, but he said he would take hold and help me out as soon as these urgent demands were met. I must go on, only God knows how I did. Sometimes I didn't have money enough to get me a loaf of bread. I went to Mr. Cleg and told him he must take the house, I could not pay the dues. He WIS very kind. "Hold on, Mrs. Smith, pay what you can, we will not push you," he said, "everything is dull just now," etc. I got so little for my services, I could not get on, and the con- stant thought I had to carry all the time that I was getting still deeper in debt to the Building Association. I was ashamed to tell anyone, it would look to white people like bad management on the part of those who were my friends. Then I knew what some of my own people would say, and had said already, that I was a kind of a "white folks' nigger," and I knew they would say, "That is just what I told you it would all come to, can't tell me about white folks." They wouldn't see God in any of it, so here I was. What to do 1 didn't know. I could not speak of it publicly for the reason I have already mentioned. One day I came home in great distress of mind. I was away in Jersey helping a good brother who wanted me so much to help him. I went. He told me the people were very poor and could not give me much, and, though I had a number of other calls where I could have expected more, I chose to go to this place and help this brother. After two weeks' hard work they gave me six dollars; and my railroad expenses were three dollars the round trip. The peo- ple were poor, but kind and good, and the minister was a good roan and had a large family, but they were poor. God bless them. Amanda Smith. 233 They got m<' a homv witH a sistrr, wluTf I was comfortable as I could be. though somrtimt's it was vtTV cold. I got horn*' about ton o'clock in the morning. I slipped into the house, kept the front wind )ws closed, opened one window in the back room, and got down on my knees. I said, "Now, Lord, you must help me, for I can't go another day with this burden."* It was dark. I did not eat. I thought and planned in my mind, and thought. Then I would pray aerain. When I gave out, I got up and lay down on the sofa and studied what plan I shoidd take. " If I go to Mr Ma , he will say just as he .said before. If I go to Mr. C, he is so kind, and will say the same." Then, down on my knees again. I saw myself put out of the hous.- with no place to go. I sat with my things all around me and the people looking, some were laughing and saying, "I told you so." Oh, what a struggle it was. It all seemed as real as life itself. I died out completely on this point, and when the last pang was over I felt myself singing Brother John Parker's hymn:— • " I am more than conqueror through his blood, Jesus saves me now. I rest beneath the shield.of God, Jesus saves me now." Chorus.— "Though foes be strong. And walls be high, I'll shout. He gives the victory, I'll shout. He gives the victory, Jesus saves me now." This was about two o'clock in the afternoon. I arose from the place and took my things off, for I had only laid off my bonnet. I opened the house upstairs and down, hoisted the windows and sang all the hymns I knew of by heart, I sang loud and strong. Oh, what a victory! A short time after this, the Lord marvel- ously opened my way to go to England, yes, I say marvelously. for all told, it was really marvelous, indeed. After I had been in England about six months, though 1 had writt«-n to Mr. Ma and Robinson, also Mr.Clegg, thr .secre- tary of the Building A.ssociation, a letter from Mr. Robinsd all the morning as I was going. I am generally at the ofTice first. But this morning he was there. So I went in. There was no one in but him. 1 walked right up to him, and I said: 'Look here, Will, I think it is time you and I were done with this foolishness of ours,' and he si)rang to his feet and took me by the hand and said, with tears, ' Yes, Charlie, I have wanted to speak to you for a month, but I was afraid you wouldn't speak.' 'And Will,' I said, ' I have wanted to speak to you, but thought you didn't care to speak to me, and would curse me. But the Lord has blessed m*. and now wo are old friends again. Thank the Lord! ' " If nothing else was done at that mooting, surely it was a great victory; this long breach between these two brothers healed, and a reconciliation taken place. Satan would rather they had fought a duel. But the best way to fight a duel, in my opinion, is on your knees, surrendering to God, and getting a heart filltd with love and forgiveness. Amen. Monday night I was at Dr. Cuyler's Church, Tue.sday at thf Methodist Church, Wednesday night at the Baptist Church, and we ended our services the next Sabbath at Dr. Buddington's. The ministers all united and gave their churches, and all the collec- tions, so the ladies were liberal with me, God bless tlum. Tli'-y knew nothing of my expectation of going to England, sw I could see it was all the Lord's doings, and was marvelous. I asked the Lord for everything 1 needed, direct. 238 AUTOBIO(iRArHY OF The summer before, my good friend, Mrs. Saundt-rs, had given me a very nice bhick silk dress, had it made and all, and I had expected it to last me all my lifetime, so I put it away and had not worn it. Then when I was at Fleet Street, the ladies had given me a grey suit, dress and cape, so I had these two good dresses, and one other that I traveled in. Some one gave me a pair of kid gloves, then some one gave me some ruching for the neck of my dress; some pocket handkerchiefs were given me, and some one gave me stockings. Oh, it was wonderful how everything seemed to come in. So my wardrobe was complete, though not elaborate, and, of course, it did not take me long to arrange it in my trunk. That night at Dr. Cuyler's Church they had the lecture room engaged and all lighted and warmed so nicely, but he was regret- ting that a meeting had been arranged for Monday night at his church, as he was anxious the ladies should have a good collec- tion; also, owing to the old folks' concert that was to be held at Dr. Sudder's Church, that night was not so favorable. He was afraid it would affect the result of the meeting, but his great sur- prise was the fact that the meeting was to begin at half past seven p. M. I got there at a quarter past seven and the lecture room was crowded, and many outside, and the people were clamoring and saying we must open the church. I never got in at all till the church had been opened and a fire started. As soon as the church was opened the people rushed out of the lecture room into the church. Dr. Cujier told me to wait in the lecture room till the people got settled. This unsettled me a little, but I prayed the more that God would bless the people and help me to speak for Him, and I said, "Now, Lord, don't let anybody take cold," for the church could not be heated for some time, but as there had been fire all day Sun- day, they thought it was safe to venture. The Lord did help me speak for Him. It was wonderful that night how He helped me. When all was settled and the large church was filled and many in the gallery, Dr. Cuyler said, "Mrs. Smith, will you go in now?" How very kind he was! I knew there had been some trouble some time before about a lady speaking in his church. I thought if they would make such a fuss about one so gentle and sweet and refined as Miss Sarah Smiley, what would they do with me? So I said to myself, "Well, I will do just whatever I am told to do." Amanda Smuii. Zi^ '•Thfv will not dare lo iisk nu- inside the chancel," I thought, "so if they put a bench or chair in the aisle and ask me to stand on it and si)eak, 1 will do it." Mrs. Johnson and Miss Ludlow and a number of the other temperance ladit-s were with me, so Dr. Cuyl.-r asked me if I would go in the pulpit. " My!" 1 thought j myself; " howev.T, I will do jusl as I am told," so I walked up, and it was dreadful high. Aftrr he had seat.'d me, he said, "Mrs. Smith, would you like to have one of the ladies sit with you?" " If they would like to, sir, I should be pleased." So he went and asked them, but each declined. Then he came himself and sat by me and introduced me to the peopl.' so nicely. 1 sang and gave a Bible talk. I had perfect freedom, as if I had been in a Methodist Church. I talked an hour and not a soul budg.-d to go out, and Dr. C. spoke highly of the meeting, and the people gave the ladies a real fat collection, just like people do when they are reallv blest! CHAPTER XIX. BROOKLYN — CALL TO GO TO ENGLAND — BALTIMORE — VOYAGE OVER. I was in Brooklyn holding meetings at Fleet Street Church, Rev. J. I Simmons, pastor. Then at Mr. Beecher's Mission, "Mayflower." We had a good work, and also at the other mis- sion, uptown. Friday afternoon the ladies' meeting in the lecture room of Plymouth. There were several splendid ladies there in those days, and are yet, no doubt. These Friday afternoon meetings were the regular ladies' con- secration meetings, and on Saturday afternoon we had young people's and children's meeting in the same room, and I believe *a number of the dear young people and children gave their hearts to ihe Lord, 1 needed rest very much. I had been going on without a break all summer and all winter. I was dreadfully worn and tired, and as soon as I got through had purposed going to Ocean Grove to rest a little. Dear old Brother Tompkins, of Tompkins Cove, N. Y., had given me the use of a room at their little cottage, where I could go and stay as long as I chose. How good of the Lord to thus provide for me! How well I remember those dear friends, though they have long since gone to their reward. Everything in the way of comfort and convenience was left for me to use, so I was anxious to get off. Rev. Lindsey J. Parker was then pastor of old Sands Street Methodist Church. He came after me to come to Sands Street for ten days. I was stopping with a family next door to Plymouth Church, whose name I can't remember, but I know he was a Baptist brother, strong in the faith, and he doctored me well on baptism. My! how many books he gave me to read! I am not half through 3^et; don't know as I ever will be. He was very kind, though, and so was his family. (240) Amanda Smith. 341 Well, I tried my best to beg otf from Mr. Parker — I told him how tired I was, and how much I needed rest. 1 told himi would give him the whole month of September if he would let me otf. No, he said, his oflicial board told him lu; must have me conif, if but for a week, and I told him I would k-t him know the next week. I prayed earnestly that th(! Lord would give mc slrengtli and help me through that week, and it was wonderful how lie did help me as I have often asked Him before. So on Monday morn- ing I went to see if I could prevail on Dr. Parker to let me havt- the rest, but no word I could say moved him from what he had said first. Just when we wi-re busy talking the bell rang, and Dr. Parker was called away. Th»n a Miss Price, a friend of Mrs. Parker's, was there visiting. She was an English lady; had been in this country about four years, and was e.xpecting to go home in April. She was very pleasant, and I began telling her and Mrs. Parker how I was trying to beg the Doctor to let me off for a rest. So finally Miss Price said, "Well, you do need rest; you had better come and go with me to England next month; it would be just the thing for you. The great Paris Exposition is going on, and I would take you, and we would have a real nice time, and I know the trip would do you good." "Yes," I said, "that would be nice." "Well," she said, " pray about it; I believe the Lord would have you go." Just then Mr. Parker came in again. No more was said about England.. He fixed on the day I was to come to Sands Street. I closed my last meeting at the " Mayflower" on Saturday night. There was a blessed work done, the result of which eternity alone will tell. On Sunday afternoon was our first meeting at Sands Street. The old church was crowded. Our first meeting was for the young people and children, and I began by asking the older people, strangers and all, here and there, all over the house, upstairs and down, as I would call them out, " Brother, how old were you when you gave your heart to the Lord? " Then I would ask a sister. There were some real gem testimonies to the gracfof God, and this encouraged and helped the young people very much, so when I began our altar st-rvice it was not long till the altar was crowdi-d, and many of the dear young pt-oplc and childn'fi professed tu have 343 Autobiography op found peace in believing that day. I spent a week, putting in two Sundays, and the Lord was with us and gave us blessing all through. Praise His name! At the close of this meeting Miss Price came up to me and spoke to me, and said, " Did you pray about what I told you?" I didn't recognize her at first, and I said, " About what?" "Don't you know Miss Price, that spoke to you on Monday about going to England? " " Oh,iyes, I do remember you now." " Well, did you pray about it? " " No," I said, ** I did not." "Well," she said, "you must; I believe the Lord would have you go." So that night when I went home and got ready for bed, the thought came to me, " You know that lady told you to pray about going to England." I said, " Yes, that is so." I thought a moment and said to myself: "Go to England! Amanda Smith, the colored washwoman, go to England! No, I am not going to pray a bit; I have to ask the Lord for so many things that I really need, that I am not going to bother Him with what I don't need — to go to England. It does well enough for swell people to go, not for me." So, after I had this little talk all to myself, I said my prayers and went to bed. On Tuesday afternoon I was invited to "tea to Brother Parker's. There were several others, also. Dr. Parker's brother, a young man, had just come from the old country. The Doctor was well pleased to receive him safe, so we were having a pleasant chat at the tea table. The young man was telling of his pleasant voyage across the sea. Then Dr. Parker told what a grand time he had when he came. He saidithe sea was beautiful and calm as a mill pond. He told how they had idanced — the passengers I think he referred to; as he was a Methodist preacher, I don't suppose he indulged in dancing. I listened attentively to all, for I never knew the seawascalm. My idea of the great sea was that it was always rough and tossing. I know I used to sing that good old hymn:— " Like the rough sea that cannot rest. * So that was my best idea of the grand old ocean. I have learned a great deal about it since then. Amanda Smith. 048 Miss Price sul oppusilf ;ii tlu- tabic, and as she had crossed several limes hersell'. she said, "There, Mrs. Smith, you see what u pleasant time we cuukl have on board the steamer." " Yes, but it costs money lo go to England, and none but swell folks can go." " You need not trouble about that," she said, " if you say you will go, 1 will see to that part." That was a new version of it, so that night when I went home, 1 knelt down and said, " Lord, if Thou dost want me to go to Eng- land, make it very clear and help me. I don't know what 1 would do there, I don't know anybody, but if Thou dost want me. Lord, I leave it all to Thee," and somehow — I can't explain it — but God made it so clear, and put it in my conscience so real and deep, that I could no more doubt that He wanted me to go to England, than I could doubt my own existence. I can't explain it, only I knew it, and I don't understand it now, but as high as the heavens are above the earth, so are His ways abo-e our ways, and His thoughts above our thoughts. When I was through at Sands Street, and was about tostartto Ocean Grove, Miss Price said: " Now, Mrs. Smith, I am going to Philadelphia to see a friend married, and I will be back such a day, and you can write me." I went down to the grove, and I was so glad to get there and have a little quiet and rest. I swept and dusted my room and opened the windows, and it was very pleasant. It was the first of April, and, as I thought it over, ''Oh," I said, "after all, I think I can get more rest here than I can by going to England." Then as I looked out from my window and saw the great ocean, and heard the great waves roll in, I trembled. It came to me, *' Y^ou need a good rest. Then there is Mazie, you can't leave her here alone." " Y''es," I said, " that is so, I guess I won't go." So I did my washing and ironing and began my little sewing, mending and darning, and getting my clothes in order, and resting a little, for I took my time and didn't hurry, and so I went on for several days. Then a letter came from Miss Price, saying, "Let me know by return mail if you will go with me to England. If you will go, all right, if not, I will join a party of ladies who are going." A deep conviction camt- over me that I must go, but I said I had not rested half enough, and 1 didn't sleep well at night, 1 went 244 Autobiography op to bed tired and got up tired, then, beside, it is so far, three thousand miles away. " O, dear, I will write and tell her no, she has got those ladies to go with, so that is all right." I sat down to answer the letter, and there was such a deep dread came over me as though I ought not to tell her I would not go, I could hardly write my letter. "Oh," I said, "what is the matter with me?" A whisper came to me: " Don't write her, no." "But I can't go, I must write." Soon I went, and I never wrote a letter with such a dread on me before in my life. I finished it, and took it to the postoffice and threw it into the letter box, and was so glad to get it out of my hand. Now, I said, I am free, and it seemed I was lightened for a little while, no sad feeling in my heart, no burden, everything gone. " Oh," I said, " how much trouble that letter has given me, that is it." I made several calls before I went home, as I had been away for three months. Everywhere I called, the friends were glad to see me, and said, "Amanda Smith, tell us all about where you have been and about the work," and I had much to tell of what God had wrought. Then, to sing and pray. I did not go home till half past six, so I felt all that sadness is gone, I will have a nice tea and go to bed early. I had been in the house about half an hour, I suppose, and my tea was about ready, and, all of a suddei), as when a gas jet is turned off, an avalanche of darkness seemed to come over me like the horror of darkness that came over Abraham. My heart sank, and great dread took possession of me. Every bit of desire for my supper left me, and I wanted nothing. "O, Lord," I said, " what is the matter with me? Do help me." Then I said, " I don't mean to sleep to-night till I know what ails me." So I locked the doors and fastened the shutters and turned down my lamp very low, and got on my knees, and I said, "Now, Lord, I don't know the cause of this darkness, and I must know before I sleep, I am in for it all night, and I must know what the matter is." I wept bitterly, and prayed. Then I thought it may be I have grieved the Spirit in some wa}', in what I said, when I called. Then I went, in my thoughts, to each place, and went through all Amanda Smith. 245 the conversation, but, no, no condemnation there. Then 1 went through all my work, every place 1 had been, no, no condemnation; then, " I(Ord, what is it?" 1 prostrated myself full Icnj^'lh on the lloor, and wept and prayed as never before. I said, Lord, I must know what is the matter with me. A whisper, " Arise." I rose upon my knees by the chair, and said, "Now, Lord, I will be still. Tell me, I pray Thee, what the matter is," and, after a few moments' stillness, it was as though some one stood at my right side and said distinctly: " You are going about telling people to trust the Lord in the dark, to trust Him when they can't see Him." "Yes, Lord, I have done so." " Well, you tell otlier people to do what you are not willing to do yours''lf. " *"C), Lord," I said, " that is mean, and by Thy grace I will not tell anybody to do what 1 am not willing to do myself. Now, Lord, what is it? " And clear and distinct came these words, " You are afraid to trust the Lord and go to England, you are afraid of the ocean." My! it took my breath, but 1 said, "Lord, that is the truth, the real truth," Of course it was. In a moment, in i)anorama form, CJod's goodness seemed to j)ass before me, and His faithfulness in leading me and providing for me in every way, and answering my prayer a thousand times, and now, to think I should be afraid to trust Him and go to England. Oh, such a sense of shame a. *illed me. I prostrated myself on the tloor again, I felt I could never look up again in His dear face and pray. I never can describe the awful sense of shame that seemed to fill me, and I cried out, "Lord, forgive me, for Jisus' sake, and give me another chance, and I will go to England." Then I thought, "If I write and tell Mi.ss Price that I will go, she is a stranger, and she may think I am tickle-minded and slu wt)irt know how to depend on me, but if th.- Lord will givr uw another chance, I will go alone. I pledge Thee Lord, you may trust mv, I will obey." " What about your child? " Then I saw myself on the steamer in a big storm, and the ship wrecked; it was so real, I heard the timbers crack, heard the thun- ders roll, saw the lightning, saw and heard the people screaming. Oh, it was awful. Then ;i telegram came to any the shii) w;is lost. 246 Autobiography of Then my daughter got the news, then I saw her frantic and wild with grief! It was all as real as life, and my head seemed to swim, and I cried, " O, Lord, help me, I give my child to Thee, Thou canst take care of her." Then I thought if she should get sick — well, the quickest word I could get would be by telegram, and if I should get to England, and they should send a telegram that she was sick, I knew what that would mean, it would mean she was dead. Oh, how I felt! Then I thought it alf over, and said to myself, "What if she were to be sick and die, and I could not be with her to do for her while she was sick, and pray and help her. If she were dead there would be no use of my coming home, for she would be buried before I could get to her, and then there would be no need of my coming." I saw it all, and I said, " Lord, help me, I will obey Thee." All of my sisters and brothers that were then living, came before me, one by one, six in number, and I saw each sink and die, and I went to the funeral of each of them, there on my knees, as real as ever I went to a funeral in my life, and I said, "Lord, help me." " But," I said, "to stay here and disobey God— I can't afford to taKe the consequence, I would rather go and obey God than to stay here and know that I disobeyed." Then this hymn came:— "Lord, obediently I'll go. Gladly leaving all below, Only Thou my leader be. And I still will follow Thee." Then there came such a flood of light and sweet peace that filled me with joy and gladness, and I sang and praised the Lord, for I felt He had dealt bountifully with me in great mercy. In the course of a week or so I went to see Miss Price off. She sailed by one of the beautiful ships of the White Star Line. It was like a floating palace. I had never seen anything like it on water; it was magnificent. I thought what a mistake I have made. "Oh, Lord, you may trust me, T will go alone if you will give me another chance." So I went home. A week or two later I had a letter from Mrs. Mary C. Johnson, saying, "Mr. Johnson and I expect to sail for England such a day in May, and would be glad to take you under our wing." Amanda Smith. 347 "Well." I thought. •• llii.s is \ars: so I said it is all right. I will write and tell Mrs. .lohnson to write me when she gets to England and tell me how things look. Some time before, I was in Boston at Mr. Moody's meeting; it was the last week of his meetings. There Mrs. Johnson told me that she had a deep conviction that the Lord had a work for me in Great Britain, but I gave no thought to it, so that Mr. and Mrs. Johnson wer»' off in a few weeks. As soon as she got to England she wrote me and told me of the Keswick Convention, which answers to one of our holiness camp meetings in this country, but there the phraseology is changed a little, and they call it a con- vention for the deepening of spiritual life. This meeting was begun by that good man, R. P. Smith, years ago, and they are held every year. God certainly blest him in starting this conven- tion, if nothing else was accomplished. Numerous other meetings all over the United Kingdom have been productive of marvelous good, the record of which is in eternity, only. A sad night for me. I think if Satan ever did have anything to do with mosquitoes he certainly had that night. Sunday was another hot day; the heat was something fearful. I walked to and from church, about five miles' distance, I think, but it .seemed much longer becau.se of the intense heat. **Well," I said, " 1 will not go out this evening." So 1 went up 248 Autobiography of to my room and lay clown and trifd to rest; but hfre the mos- quitoes and flies soomod to join together. Oh, T felt I should go wild. I tried to pray, but, Oh, the poisonous mosquitoes did nothing but sing, first in one ear and then the other, then a sharp nip. "Oh, dear, I can't stand it." So up I got. I said, *' It is too far to go down to Bethel Chuch to-night, I will go into this white Methodist Church." I was so wearied, I said, "Lord, do help me." When I went downstairs my aunt said to me, "Where are you going? " "To church." "I thought you said you were not going out again." "Yes, but I am going into this white Methodist Church, on Exeter street." She was surprised. "We never go to the white people's church here. I would laugh if they put you out." "Well," I said, "they will have it to do to-night for I am going." I was glad she did not want to go, for her skin was very thin, and I thought if there was any unpleasantness I could bear it better than she could; so out I went, a half an hour before the time. The church was beautiful; the lights were burning dimly and it was so cool and quiet. The sexton was very pleasant and spoke to me, but did not tell me to go into the gallery— the custom used to be where colored people went to church they went into the gallery — so, as he said nothing, I walked in and went three or four pews from the door. " If they put me out," I said, " I will have a good strut, and everybody can see me." AVell, in the quiet I began to think and pray. Somehow, I felt the Lord had sent me there to teach me some lesson, and I said, " Lord, what is it that Thou wantest me to learn, for surely Thou dost mean something by all this?" So there I sat, praying earnestly. By and by, the people began to gather, then two very nicely dressed ladies walked in and stood at my pew. I turned and looked them squarely in the face so they could see I was of the royal black, but they looked pleasant, so I arose and they passed in. There were plenty of vacant pews on the opposite side and further Amanda Smith. 349 ahfiitl. I (ioift know \vh\ I lu\ |in r.iTi (1 that dtif \mlrss forihi- peculiar fascination that sfcnis to ^'atht-r about royally! After a while the minister came in, the li^'hts were turned up. Oh, how pretty it was, and the minister passed up into tiie i(uli)it and prayed, then announced the hymn. They san^', then a very earnest prayer, and all the usual preliminaries. All this time I prayed the Lord to teach me the lesson lie wanted me to learn. When the minister arose and announced his text, he said: "My te.xl will be found in Philippians 4:10, 'My God shall supply all of your net>d accordin*,' to Ilis riches in plory by Christ Jesus;' " and the Spirit said to me clearly, "That is the lesson foryoti," and the . nii)hasis seemed to be on the need, "My God shall supply all your need," and I saw it, what it all meant. After I went home from church, in Baltimore, my aunt said to me, " Well, how did you make out? " "The Lord has taught me the lesson He wanted I should learn," I replied. " I am so glad I went." When 1 saw how near I came to breaking my covenant with God. I was alarmed; I slept very little that ni^^ht. Next morning I was up betimes and was otf to the train. They said it was the nine-thirty that left Baltimore. Th«'y said it was the lightning express; its destination was Y(jrk, Pennsyl- vania. It made but two stops, at Wilmington, Philadeli)hia, and York. I felt I never wanted to go in that train again. Oh, it was so swift, as I looked out of the window it seemed to me the trees and posts would cut my eyes out, the speed was something fearful. I held on to myself, and said, "Lord, if Thou wilt help me I will never disobey again." I got to York, spent the night with my brother, next day held a meeting at one o'clock in the Methodist Church, and left at half- past two for Philadelphia, got home, went out and bought my trunk and packed it, and at seven r. m. I locked my door and droi)i)ed my key in the letter box and started for Horton street to my friend's, Mrs. Kenney. I met Mrs. B. and told her I was going to England to be gone three months, and I wanted her to kx)k after my house till I came back. "All right," she said. I bade her good-bye, and so passed on. The next morninjr. Wednesday, at eight o'clock, I went on board the steamer "Ohio." Captain Morris in command. He was a perfect gi-ntleman and 250 Autobiography of very kind tc me. Through my dear friend, Mrs. Kenney, I had got my ticket all right, seventy dollars, first class, of course. There were quite a number of aristocratic passengers, and I, being a colored woman and alone, there was quite a little inquiry who I was, what I was going to England for, etc. I must say 1 did feel somewhat embarrassed. Several of the passengers asked me if I had ever been in England. "No," I said. "Are you going on business? " "No, not special." " Do you expect friends to meei you? " "Well, no." Then such a critical smile and remark. They would go away and would talk it over with two or more others and pass com- ments, and after a while another would come and put the same question in another form. "You are going to Paris, I suppose?" " No, I don't expect to go to Paris." "I suppose you are going to join the Jubilee Singers. No "doubt, you find this an expensive passage, Mrs. Smith? " " Yes, seventy dollars was what I paid for my passage." "You have friends that will meet you in England? " "Well, no, I don't know that anyone will meet me." Then I would tell them of my friend, Mrs. Mary C. Johnson, and Miss Price, and how it all came about, and they would seem to be so astonished to think I would be such a fool as to go to England on such a testimony. An old Quaker gentleman was the only one that really seemed to know about the leading of the Spirit, and he spoke for me on one or two occasions. Some of the ladies remarked that I should have gone steerage, and it would not have cost me so much. They didn't know but I was a suspicious being of some kind, so this worried me a little, and one day I went into my cabin and got down on my knees, and said, " Now, Lord, these people ask me so many questions. If I tell them that Thou hast sent me to England, they don't understand it; and now. Lord, don't let them ask me any more questions. Stop them; take the curiosity out of them; make them let me alone, for Jesus' sake. Amen." T got up and went on deck, and not a soul from that hour asked me any more questions, not one the whole voyage. "If ye shall ask anything in My name, I will do it." Amanda Smith. o^j "Arr wi' wrak and heavy ladrn, Cunibrr.'a with a load of car.', Precious Saviour, still our refu^'i', Take it to th.' Lord in prayer"* Amm. We were ull pretty sick the first two days. The third atsat'ne.xtr at the able -they were from Philadelphia,- were both v,.rv Z7ZT """"' " ''"' "'"''"" '"' ■"^■- ='"" "''^ ' "P"--"^-' The Quaker gentleman and his .son were very much interested in me when they learned 1 was, as the Friends sav, -. preacher woman." The old gentleman told me much abi, t the usages among he Society of Friends. He said the Frie^.ds had alway e^ r ^f" ""P"'"f f""""^ vn:chi„g. and he said he was know ,h 1 " T ' """ ""■" ""'^ '■'■" '^^•f"'^- ""-^ '"■ Ji'l »«' know that colored women ever worked in that sphere. He encour- tfin T' ;'?",',"'" "" *" ^" '°'""''- Then he spoke to the cap- tain about holding services. thp J^ \7 r? u'' ''"''"''' '" ^^'^'■^' ""^' "^ "'•-'^•'''■•' -•''""••^' them. Most of the passengers were Episcopalians and Presby- 252 Autobiography of terians, all very nice, but very aristocratic, so these gentlemen came and asked me if I would take the service. I told them I would if the captain thought it would be agreeable. I did not want to do anything that would not be perfectly agreeable to all. Then they went around and inquired, and everybody was willing. They thought, anything to break the monotony and have a novel entertainment. The captain came to me himself and said he would be very glad if I would take the service. He would have the saloon arranged. I told him i would do so if he thought it would be best. He assured me that It would be all right, so everything was arranged. First bell was rung; it did seem real churchified! How the smiles and whispers went around among the passengers, " The colored woman is going to preach " All were invited down into the saloon, then the second bell was rung. Many of the second cabin and some of the steerage passengers came in. Those from the steerage were most, of them Romanists, but all behaved rever- ently except one or two poor, ignorant persons. The Episcopal prayer and hymn books were placed all around the long tables, and I did not know a bit how to proceed with that service, so I turned to my Quaker friend, for he and his son stood by me ready to assist in anything but to sing or pray, and he spoke to the captain, who said I should go on in my own way. So I gave out a hymn that was familiar, and they all joined as I started the tune. If I had dared to ask some one to pray I would, but if I had it would only have been an embarrassment to any one but an old time Methodist, so I looked to God for strength and prayed myself, then I sang from the Winnowed Hymns that beautiful song, •• Jesus of Nazareth Passeth By. " The Lord blest the singing and it captured their attention, and before I got through I saw a number of them were touched, but how I prayed that morning for Divine help, and it surely came. I opened my Bible at the 14th chapter of John, and said, "I will not preach, but I want to talk a little from this dear old chapter," so I talked on for over half an hour with perfect liberty and freedom. Then I prayed, and as I spoke to the Lord the sev- eral passengers came before me, those that were sick, and friends left behind, the captain and officers that had been so kind, and so on, as the Spirit prompted the prayer, so I prayed. When I got through we sang the Doxology. Amanda Smith. 253 Oh, how it changed the spirit of the passengers. Ladies and gentlem»>n that hud not even said good morning to m«' befon-. came to mo and thanked me for what I said, and especially for the prayer. They shook hands and were so interested, and said. " Lord bless you." There was a great swell doctor who b«'Iong«'d to the ITnilt-d States Navy — he and his wife and two children. His wife and children were very nice, but from the remarks of some of the passengers he seemed to act as though he thought the passengers on that steamer ought to feel they were highly honored tliat so great a passenger as he, doctor in the United States Navy, was aboard that ship. The two little girls were sweet little things, aged, I should think, about nine and six years; they seemed to take quite a fancy to me. They had no nurse with them, so I would amuse them, and we had a pleasant time, but whenever the doctor was around he would call them away. He would seem to feel so uncomfort- able that they should be so stupid as to notice a black woman. I used to smile as I would see his maneuvers. When I got to Liverpool I knew nothing about the Custom House. All the ladies had gentlemen to look after their baggage, and as there is alwas a commotion when we get in, so I said, " Lord, I have no one to look after my baggage or do anything for me, now help me and keep me quiet, and just help me through with everything." The good doctor seemed to take special pains to hinder me. He had a good deal of baggage to be examined, I had but one trunk, he had three officers. T waited; then 1 saw a chance, and I just spoke to one of the men, and pointed out my trunk; just then the good doctor stepped right in front of me, clapped the man on the arm, took him away so roughly, so I waited till all were pretty well through. The doctor got in his cab and was off. Then the man turned to me and said, " Madame, tliis is your trunk? " "Yes, sir," I said. " I suppose you have no tobacco nor cigars, nor books? " "No, no," was my reply. "Well, all right, where do you want to go?" "Lime Street Station, sir." He whistled for a cab, I locked my trunk, and a moment more I was off. 354 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF AmAND/»l SmITH. My cab ovortook and passed the good doctor. As I passed I looked out and waved .ny hand with a polite bow and rolled by, leaving the doctor behind, and instead of smiling like a good fellow and bidding me God speed, he simply frowned and seemed to bite his lip. I have never seen him since, poor fellow! CHAPTER XX. LIME STREET STATION, LIVERPOOL, ENGLAND, AND THE RECEPTION I MET WITH THERE — PAGES FROM MY DIARY. 1 had to wait about two hours. I went to Keswick, where the big Conference is held ev«ry summer. Cannon Battersby was the rector of St. John's Church, and was President of the Convention. A holy man of God, he was. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson were there. They had spoken of me, so that everyone seemed to be expecting me. Just before we got to Keswick I had to change cars and wait about an hour. The day was beautiful, and this was about four o'clock in the afternoon. I was a curiosity. How the people did look at me. I thought I would buy me a newspaper, and then they wouldn't look at me so much, but, lo and behold, that only made it worse. They seemed to wonder what in the world I was going to do with a newspaper. Then I walked up and down, then they walked up and down, as though they wondered what I was walking up and down for. They were very respectful; they did not laugh and make remarks like they would have done in this country, but they seemed to look as though they pitied me. \iy and by the train came in, and two ladies got out and one of them walked up to me and said, "Why, Amanda Smith." "Well," I thought, "who in the world here knows me." I said, "Yes, madam, that is my name; " and holding on to my hand, she said, laughingly, " Don't you know me?" " I know your face, madam, but cannot place you." She still laughed and said, " Look at me." "Oh, madam, do please tell me who you are." "You held meetings with me at Sea Clilf, and New York. You S|x>ke at a ladies' meeting in New York that 1 held once at Dr. C.'s church one afternoon." No, 1 could not think. Then she said, " You don't know Mrs. Dr. Bordmau." (255) 256 Autobiography op •' Oh, dear Mrs. Bordman, is it you, the joy of my heart? ' " Where are you going? " she asked. **To Keswick Convention." ••Why, that is just where we are going." Then she introduced me to the lady that was with her and ■•r^ had a beautiful time and pleasant journey to Keswick. The house where Mrs. B. and her friend had lodged was full, but they said they thought to get me a place near by. Of course no one knew I was really coming, I had got Mrs. Johnson's letter telling me all about how to come, but I had no time to write and tell her I had decided to do so, so, in a little while after we had got to the house, dear Dr. Bordman went to see about my lodgings. It was in St. John's Lane. The landlady told him she could accommodate me for the night, but the next day she was expecting two young men who had engaged the rooms. So I went off to my lodgings. The lady was a very pleasant old lady, a widow. She was quite alone, but had such a pretty home, like so many one sees in England. The room was large; everything was elegant and rich, but old-fashione'd; high bedstead, with heavy curtains around. I was glad when the night came, to go to bed. I had never been so long in such close quarters as in the cabin on the steamer, and I longed to have a good, free time without shaking. It was July, dreadfully hot here in America, but so cool in England that I could sleep with the windows closed and under a blanket. "My! I never knew the luxury of an English feather-bed till that night. Oh, it was so elegant, a great big English feather-bed, I had never seen anything like it, though I had seen many a large feather bed here in America. I lay all over it. I said, " I want to get the benefit of this feather-bed, I will only have it for one night." My! what a nice sleep I had; how refreshed and rested I was the next morning; how full of praise my heart was to God for His kindness in bringing me safely to England and giving me such a token of His favor among the people that received me; I shall never forget it. I got up next morning, did up my room, and was to go to Mrs. Bordman's to have my breakfast with them. Before going out I thought to myself how I should like to stay here; it just seems like as if this is the place the Lord wants me to be, but the lady Amanda Smith. 257 has said she could accommodate me only for the night, and of course I can't ask her when she has said she exi>ects the youn^ men. Then I got down on my knees and said my prayers, and 1 said, "Now, Lord, this seems like the very place that Thou dost want me to stay; now, Thou canst manage so that I can stay here, and if it really is Thy will, put it in the lady's h«'art when I go down stairs to tell me I can stay. I don't want to ask her. She has been so kind, and I am a stranger; but, Lord, I belii-ve that Thou canst manage it for me; surely Thou canst if it is Thy will, so I leave it with Thee. Amen." Somehow, my lu'art was so quiet and full of peace, I felt the Lord would do it, and yet it seemed so strange that He should. I took my bag in my hand and went down. Wh, it will injure your influence greatly as a stranger, here in England. We think a great deal of it if you do not go when you are advertised." Oh, how bad I felt. I was greatly tempted, and lelt if I had had the money I would like to come home, but this was onlj' a temptation, though I didn't get to Broadlands that year; but the next year I did. Lord Mount Temple and Lady Beechman, and a number of others, came to Mr. Charlton's East End Mission one night where I was holding services and invited me again in per- son, and then, through the kindness of Mr. Edwin Clifford, Esq., I got to Broadlands, according to the will of the Lord. Amanda Smith. 361 Oh, how He blest me, aud, I believe, made me a blessing to the people. I shall never forget the kindness of his Lordship aiul Lady Mount Temple. 1 was their guest in 'their home. Oh, what a home it was! how spacious, a regular palace. When I went into dinner, Lord Mount Temple walked up to me and gave me his arm, and saying, "We will lead the way," took me into dinner and seated me at his right, and there I was, amid all that throng of English dignitaries. It was all new to me, in a sense, and yet I neither saw nor felt anything that was worth while being a fool over, for God had long since .savetl me, I believe, from foolish pride. I believe it now, as I always believed it, in the Book: " Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall," and if I ever prayed for God to save me from anything, it was from the foolishness of pride. Thank God, I believe he does, he keeps me saved. I remember one morning in the conservatory where the morn- ing meeting was held. Rev. Mr. Jukes and Mr. Geo. Mac Donald gave a Bible reading. I saw nothing strange in it, it was beautiful to me. After this was over the meeting opened for those to testify who had received any special blessing. Mr. E. Clifford and I had held a very interesting Gospel meeting on the evening before, so that when the meeting was opened for testimony there were a number who testified. I felt the Lord laid it on me to give a bit of my own personal experience, how God converted and sanctified my heart, so I six)ke, and the power of the Spirit seemed to come mightily uiwn all the people. Oh, what a stir; they wept and sobbed, and one woman was so baptized that she cried out and could not restrain herself. How the Lord helped me that morning. This work was very real in many hearts; even after I came from Africa I met a woman in Liverpool one night in the train, who said to me, " Do you remember the morning you spoke at Broadlands and gave your experience?" "Yes." " Do you remember some one crying out?" " Yes." " Well," she said, " that was I. Oh, God filled me that morn- ing and I have never gotten over it, the trials have been severe, but. Oh, I have been saved and kept and I am full of praise to-day. I am glad to see you, praise the Lord." 262 Autobiography oj* Her face was beaming with joy. That is only one instance, I don't know how many more, but God does, and that is enough. Amen. I met with some things that were a little strange, but they didn't affect me any; for example: One morning after the break- fast was over, and after the prayer, we retired to the drawing room. Dr. Moxey and several others were in a very interesting conversation in regard to advanced views of spiritual things. One young clergyman, whose name I don't remember now, was saying, that somewhere in the part of the country where he lived he and his wife had attended some meetings where they were praying for the conversion of the Devil. Some one turned to me and said, " What do you think of that, Mrs. Smith? " '^Well," I said, "anybody that wants to do that is quite wel- come as far as I am concerned, but I think he has a pretty big job on hand." "Well," said they, "don't you see what a good thing it would be, Mrs. Smith, if only the Devil could be converted; you, and — referring to another evangelist that was presont — and many other persons who are working so hard to get people saved, wouldn't have your work so often destroyed, for after all j'our work, he often upsets it all." "Yes," I said, "I guess I will wait and see how you all come out." Now, I didn't see anything in that that was so mysterious. The most mystery I saw about it was that people should spend time in such foolishness, when there is so much they might do that would be of permanent good. After I got to England, the first money tha*. was given me, about three days after, was five pound sterling and something over, equal to about twenty-five dollars. Some ladies at Keswick, said to Mrs. Johnson, "Who supports Mrs. Smith?" Of course they didn't tell me this, but they asked Mrs. Johnson all about it. She told them that I just trusted the Lord to supply all my needs, and so it went around quietly. Mrs. J. came to me one morning and said to me, " Amanda, it is wonderful how the Lord is putting it into the hearts of the peo- ple to help you financially. Several have come to me and put in my hand money for you." I thanked her verv much. Amanda Smith. 263 "Several ladies have said they would hand m«' .soin.thin;: this afternoon, when I ^et it toj^ether I will giv«' it to you." So wh«'n sh«' handed it to me it was the amount that I have spoken of. Then I saw it was in direct answer to prayer, as I had asked the Lord on my way. "Lord," I said, "confirm my coming to England by putting it into the hearts of the i)e()ple to give m«' some money to help me after I get there, I am a strang( r, no one knows me except Mrs. J.'' This is what I said to the Lord while I was on the steamer, and, now, three days after I land, this is«the result. Surely the Lord is good. It is all wonderful, but it is just like Ilim. Blessed be His name. Friday, Sept. 26th, 1878. This is a day that I had to regret. I had been invited to Lord Mount Temple's, through Rev. Mr. Hopkins, to go to the Broadlands Conference. Whf n I told it to my dear American fri'^nds who were there, they thought it would not do for me to go at all. They said the teaching at that Confer- ence was so deep, and they were afraid I would be confused, and it would not be good for me. And then, besides, for one like me to be entertained where there was so much elegance and style, it might make me proud and turn my head. Rut, poor things! they didn't know that I had always been used to a good deal of that, though in the capacity of a servant; so that no style or grandeur affected me at all. But notwithstanding this invitation to me came directly from Lord Mount Temple's, they protested against my going. I prayed about it, and the Lord made it very clear to me that He wanted me at Broadlands. But as I was a stranger, and they had been in England longer than I had, I yielded, but thought quietly in my mind that I would go anyhow. But they so arranged it that I was to go to St. Helens, and take some meetings at Victoria Hall, at Mrs. Menzes'. And when I got there they had advertised me beyond the date when I was to go to Broadlands. And though I told them I had promised to go to Broadlands before, Mrs. Menzes said it would not do at all, after I was advertised; I would lose my influence for g(Kjd; that that was one of the things they were very particular about in England. I knew nothing about the advertisement myself, and had nothing to do with it; but that I could not explain. So I did not go to Broadlands till the next vear. 264 Autobiography of Monday, 39th. Quite a party of us take a carriage drive to Buttermere mountains. Oh, such a sight my eyes never beheld. The beauty and grandeur beggar description. Wednesday, 31st. Had a nice meeting. Took a sixteen mile drive. Went to see the old church — seventeen hundred years old. I never saw antiquities in such profusion before. Thursday, Aug. 1st. Tired, but saved. Go to Kendel, to Mr. Brathwaite's. Mr. Brathwaite is a very wealthy Quaker gentle- man. I shall never forget their beautiful home, and their kindness to me, a stranger. God bless them. There I met Mrs. Johnson and Miss Smiley. Dear Miss Smiley, how solicitous she was for me! She came into my room one day and said she felt impressed to say to me that she thought I should not go to Broadlands. The Lord had blessed me so much, and it would be such a pity if I were to go there and be spoilt. Poor thing, how kind she was! Saturday, Aug. 3d. I leave Keswick to-day for St. Helens. Arrive about three o'clock in the afternoon. Mrs. Menzes met me at the station with the carriage. The first thing that struck me when I got out of the carriage was large bills pasted up, beau- tiful pink paper, with black letters: ''Mrs. Amanda Smith, the Converted Hlaxe from America, will give Oospel Addresses and Sing in Victoria Hall for so many days. ' ' My knees felt very weak, but there I was in for it. Sunday, 4th. My first day at the Hall. It is a large hall, holding from six to eight hundred persons. It was right in a Roman Catholic settlement, and I was quite a novelty, being a woman, and a black woman, at that. So at night the meeting was crowded. But of all the audiences that I ever spoke to, I never before saw one so mixed — women with shawls over their heads, some with nothing on their heads at all, some barefoot, men and women respectable looking, others far from it, but on the whole all behaved well. Then there was a crowd that had gath- ered at the door to see me when I came out, and they almost pulled the clothes off of me. It took four policemen to get me into the carriage, while the driver sat on the box and cut right and left with his whip to keep the way clear while he started. Of all the unearthly yells I ever heard, they gave them. This was all new to me. I had been around a good deal in America, and had been to many large meetings where there were thousands, but I had never seen anything like this before. Amanda Smith. •j«)5 Monday, olh. Praise th»' Lord, Oh, my soul. " Tho peaco of Christ keeps fresh my htarl, A fountain ever springing; All things are mine since I am His, How can I keep from singing?" To-day we have a large field meeting, as they call it in England, a kind of picnic. I stood in a cart in this grea' big field, in the midst of five or six hundred people, and tried to talk to them, and sing. It was a difficult job and all new to me, but I did the best 1 could. CHAPTER XXI. VISIT TO SCOTLAND, LONDON, AND OTHER PLACES — C0NVER9A TION WITH A CURATE — GREAT MEETING AT PERTH — HOW I CAME TO GO TO INDIA. I think it was in September, 1878. I had met Miss Amars, of Galishields, Scotland, at the Keswick Conference. She was a high- born lady, and a typical Scotchwoman; and a more thoroughly consecrated, self-sacrificing lady, I think, I never met. Her mother, too, was an earnest Christian, and a staunch Scotch church woman. Miss Amars had a large mothers' meeting, and did all she could in every way to help the poor. And being a lady of wide influence, and using it for God, she did much good. She was generally consulted about an evangelist, if one was to come to the town; she gave her influence and threw herself right into helping in every way; by visiting, and inviting people. There was a large hall where Evangelistic services were held every Sunday and through the week. So after Miss Amars had gone home from the Keswick Conference, where she had got a fresh anointing of the Spirit, she went to work at once, and pre- pared the Avay for my coming. This was wonderful; for the Scotch Presbyterians are so con- servative: and for a woman to talk before a mixed congregation of men and women was not to be thought of in Scotland. What- ever they did in England, or in the United States, they in Scot- land could not venture that far. The brother who had charge of the Evangelistic meetings in the hall, was more liberal than most of the brethren; and then knowing Miss Amars, as he did, he could not well refuse her when she told him of me. He consented to let me speak in his hall. I went at the time appointed. They had arranged entertainment for me at a very pleasant home, near by the hall, as they lived quite a little ways off, themselves. (266) Amanda Smith. ^e? Of course, I was (luitr a curiosily, to start with. The hall was crowded. It would hold about three hundred, or four hun- dred. The first two meetintrs, I saw they were a little afraid that I didn't know what I was ^'oin^' to do. Hut I was juMiTrt. 275 How wt'll I remember the ple;isiint time w<' had, and the ex- ct'lU'iit diiiner. What a p'lilh'. swert spirit stM-mcd to pervade tht'ir home at tliat time. After the diiiiitr was throu^'h, we remained at the table, talkin^^ Dr. Xewinaii said to me, " Xow, Amanda, here is our William;" (referring' to the colored butler); " we are very interested for our William; he is not converted, and I want you to t:ilk to him. I buried his sister about a week aj^^o. Slie was a j!:o(»d Christian. And William ought to be converted." Tiien 1 turned to William and began to talk. We talked awhile, md William stood and looked very serious; and tlu'ii Dr. Newman sugirested that I sing, and Brother McDonald suggested what he thought would be a good thing, and we joined and sang. Just in the midst of our singing the bell rang, and William had to answer it. When he came in he spoke to Mrs. Newman and told her who it was, and Mrs. Newman went out into the parlor, and in a little while she came back bringing a lady with her, whom she introduced as her friend, Mrs. C. I had met Mrs. C. the day before. Mrs. Newman had introduced me to her, and told me how she was seeking the Lord. After she was seated, Dr. Newman said, " Now, Amanda, I think you had better sing us another piece." So something else was suggested, and we joined and sang. While we were singing, I noticed that Mrs. C. could hardly control her emotions. I knew the Spirit of the Lord had taken hold of her heart. Then Dr. Newman said, " Now we will have a season of prayer." So right there in the dining room we just knelt and prayed around; each one prayed. And when it came my turn it seemed to me I never was so helped in prayer. I prayed ('specially for this lady. I felt that God would bless her. Sure enough, when we rose from our knees, her burden was all gone and she was hapi)y. She wrote me a beautiful letter while I was in Africa, and told me the blessing she received that day had remained with her; and. though she had i)assed through a great deal of trouble, yet she had never lost the peace and blessing that came to her that day. I thought at that time how wonderful it was for Mrs. Newman to bring that lady into her dining room when I was there. I know some ladies who would have been ashamed to let it be known that I was in their dining room. Then I went down stairs and had a little visit with the eld 276 Autobiography op servant. She, too, bore testimony to Mrs. Newman's kindness to them. She said to me, " I used to live with Mrs Newman's mother. Miss , (calling her by her maiden name) was always kind. She has not changed a bit. Sometimes when they have little evening parties, and have ice cream, after the people are all gone, Mrs. Newman will come downstairs and ask if there was any cream left for William and me; and if there was not, she will send out if it was ten o'clock at night, so we may have our part. This treatment to you is not put on. I know them." Of course, this was all before Dr. Newman was Bishop. Thursday, August 14th. I leave Broadlands for Salisbury. Rev. Mr. Thwaites invites me to come to Salisbury and hold some meetings. I was entertained at Fisherton Rectory. Monday. 18th. I leave for Eastbourne, Miss Mason's house of rest. Here I meet many of the workers who are there for a week's rest, or more. How good of the Lord to give me this privilege, and these few days of quiet and rest. Frida}', 29th. Leave Eastbourne. Spend the evening with Miss Drake, at Dr. Bordman's, Rochester Square, London. She is on her way back to India. Sunday, 31st. Mr. Richard Morris arranges a meeting at the Y. M. C. A. The Lord gave me great liberty in speaking, and we had a good time. September 1st, 1879. I leave Doncaster for the great Perth, Scotland, Conference. These meetings are held annuall}', and are very marked for blessing. I was asked to come a week before the Conference convened, and hold some preparatory meetings, so as to add to the interest of blessing at the Conference. Mrs. Gordon, of Park Hill, Aberdeen, and Mrs. Douglas were among the promi- nent ladies in the church, and they had arranged for my enter- tainment. I was met at the station by three Christian workers. When I stepped out of the train they came right up to me, and were so cordial and kind, I felt quite at home with them. They never allow you to carry anything; they just take your hand-bag, and go at once and see after jour baggage, so that everything is made so easy for you. For this, I alwaj^s praise the Lord. I noticed they had bundles of hand bills, and were giving them to everybody. So I said, " You are trying to advertise well." "Oh, yes," they said: "The people are very hard to get out to a Gospel meeting." AMANDA Smith. 277 " Is that so?" 1 said, " 1 thou^^lit ilif Scotcli people turned out well." " The fact is, Mrs. Smith, we jx-ople have had the Gosi)el so much that we liave become Gospel hardened, I think. When an evan.ij:elist does come, he always has to work a week before the people get interested and come out in any numbers. So you must not be discouraged, Mrs. Smith. Mr. Scrogey, from Ireland, was here some time ago, and he always gets more out than anyone rise, and yet it was a week hvUn-e there was any mark<'d interest in th.- meetings. The people were so tardy about coming out." " Indeed." "We have a small hall, that will hold about a hundred, and we thought we would commence there first; then, if the meetings increased, we have a larger hall close by; it holds about three hundred and fifty." " Oh, my," I said, " I thought the Scotch people were people of great faith; but you only have got faith for two hundred people. You must do better than that." They laughed and said, "But, Mrs. Smith, you don't know the people." "No," I said, "but I know the Lord, and He says, 'ask largely. ' ' ' "Well," they said, "we will see to-night.'* "They don't know," I thought, "that I am God's bulletin board, and to be even a sign post for God has its reward. How- ever, I will not tell them. We will see." So, as we walked on, they said, seemingly to prepare me, and cheer me. "Of course, Mrs. Smith, you will not feel embar- rassed, for there will only be women allowed in the meeting." "Why?" " Well, we supposed you were not accustomed to speaking before men; so there will be no men allowed in." " Oh," I said, " I don't mind speaking b'fore men at all. At some of our camp meetings in America I have talked to two and three thou.sand — men and women, girls and boys, young and old." They were astonished out of measure. So nothing further was said on the subject. When evening came we went to the hall. It was packed and crowded; and all outside the door and along the street, so that I never got in at all. They took me to ahousenear by to wait till 278 Autobiography op they lighted up the large hall, which took about twenty minutes, till all was settled. Then I went in. As I passed down the aisle I saw three men had slipped in, and they leaned forward so as not to let me see them; and I never let on. Poor fellows; they were waiting every minute to be told to go out, and they were quite ready; they would have moved out at a word. I went on, gave out my hymn, and opened the meeting; after prayer, I began my address. I never referred to the men, or said a word about what I had been accustomed to in America. As 1 talked on, the men began to raise themselves up and sit erect. My! I shall never forget their faces. They seemed to look glad. The Lord helped me to speak. The next night six men came in. I went right on, and said nothing to them whatever. The third day two ladies called to see me. They were much interested in the meeting, and were very wealthy, and so carried on the principal p-drt of the finances of the mission. They were very kind indeed tome. They were maiden ladies, sisters. So they came in their carriage to protect me, and see that I was not intruded upon by the men coming in. When we got to the hall there were seven or eight men. I saw these ladies looked very sharp and surprised. I went on and opened the meet- ing with a lively hymn; and the Scotch can sing, depend upon it. Then I asked some one to lead in prayer; and one of the lady workers did so, but it was very faint. Poor thing, I knew it was a struggle; fortunately it was not length}'. So we rose, and I gave out the next hymn. While they sang I noticed a great deal of quiet whispering and uneasiness; these good ladies were very nervous; I was greatly amused. Just before I began my address, one of them said to me, "Now, Mrs. Smith, there are those men; and they know quite well this is a meeting for women only; and they know they should not be in here. If you would like, I will speak to them, and have them go out." *'Oh, no," I said, " I don't mind; I think they came with their wives; I saw one man bring the baby and give it to the mother; and if they behave themselves it's all right; I want to talk to the women about their souls, and their salvation; and that is what the men need as well." •'Then it don't embarrass you to have the men present?'* Amanda Smith. 27v) **N()l in lilt' It'iist," I said. And she sat down, comfortably 8urpris«'d: .nul I had no furllitr trouble about the men coming to m»'etin^ with the women. They did seem glad. They would shake liands with me, and say, " Lord bless you," and they smiled, and I suppose they thought I had given them the best chance they had ever had to get into a mixed meeting. The Sunday night of the great Conference, in the large town liall, holding eleven hundred or twelve hundred people. Lady Hope, wife of Sir James Hope, an excellent Christian lady, known all over England and Scotland for her earnest Christian work among the navvies and working men, for the first time in her life, after I had sung " Whosoever," addressed a large audience of men and women. They listened with profoundest interest to the Gospel address. It was a new epoch in Scotch history, for a woman to speak before a company of that kind, on such an occasion. I held meetings for a week after the Conference had closed; and in that same hall on the following Sunday night, a hundred stood up for prayers, mostly men, with tears running down their faces, and trembling as they stood. They didn't pop up and down in a minute, as we often see it here, but they rose and stood. Oh, what a night that was! The workers, though there were a great number, seemed to be astounded, and didn't know what to do. The Lord of Hosts was with us and helped us. I remember a dear old woman, with a white cap on, and her Bible open in her lap I went to speak to her. She was weeping bitterly. She knew her Bible almost by heart; there was not a promise I could mention but she knew it. She said, "Yes, Mrs. Smith, I know that, and I have read it over and over; but I have never had the assurance of my salvation, and I don't know that I am saved. I want to know it." "Well," I said, "God wants you to know it; and you do know His Word; but it is the Spirit that quickeneth; so ask the Lord to give you His Spirit, and quicken the Word in your heart." "Yes," she said, "I think it may be that." "Have you ever praised the Lord for His precious Word? " "Well," she said, "I try to be thankful, but then I don't know as I ever have really liaised Him." "Well," I said, " praise Him for what He has done, and trust Him to give you His Spirit of assurance." 880 Autobiography of And she did right away, and in a little while was as happy as a bride. My! how beautiful! Oh, how the t^ess«'d Spirit came to her heart! filled her with peace and joy. Praise the Lord for His mercy. Then the Rev. Mr. Blank asked me to take a week's service in his church. He had an assistant pastor, and he himself had to be away. This was a very new thing; to be in a Scotch kirk; a woman, and a black woman; whoever heard of such a thing? But the assistant pastor was a very earnest Christian worker, and took right hold, and the Lord was with us. Every night the house was crowded; they had galleries all around, and they were filled. They used the Gospel Hymns to sing in, and then they had their own Book of Psalms. How many dear old people, men and women. How they cheered me! They all joined in these hymns and sang heartily. The third night of the meeting, one old gentleman came up to me, and whispered softly, calling me aside; and in his beautiful broad Scotch, he said, "Mrs. Smith, the old people would be much better pleased if you would open the meeting and close with a Psalm. We are used to singing the Psalms. The young people like the Gospel Hymns; but just for the older people, I will just put that in your ear." Then giving me a little pinch on the arm, he turned away. I saw it in a moment. I said nothing, but the next evening I opened the service by giving out a Psalm. I never did such a thing before, and never had heard of it, and hardly knew which to give out; but they knew them all, so I ventured. I think it was the one hundred and third Psalm. However, it seemed to be just the right one; and the faces of those old people lighted up; they thought I was the nicest kind of a woman! And I thought I had heard singing before, but when I struck that Psalm it was the most beautiful thing I ever heard. So I got converted over right then and there to Psalm singing; though I had not backslid over any of the old Hymns that I had learned in days of yore. And if I lived in Scotland I should learn how to sing the Psalms. We went on with that meeting for a week. The Lord gave us great blessing. Many souls were* strengthened and blessed, while some for the first time decided for Christ. September 30, 1879. Leave Perth for Ab'^rdeen. Sunday Amanda Smith. 281 Mfl.rnooii, Park Hill rhain-l, Mr. CJoril«.n's. Mr. tiordon had buill a larp' chapel in the town, and employed an cvangrlLst by the nam.' of Mr. Anderson; a grand, p)od man. He often had evan- gelists come and h»'lp Mr. Anderson with the meetings. So this was a ne-w field for a woman to work in, in a mixed congregation, as was also tho case in Perth. Then the Spirit of the Plymouth brethren was so very strong in every direction. Of course, Father Anderson himself was on the straight line. I remember one afternoon it was with great difficulty that 1 got into the church; they had afternoon meetings, and the crowds were simply enormous. I was to give a Rible reading that after- noon. The Lord had given us great blessings in the evening meetings. A number of souls professed to have found peace in believing. We had glorious times. The work seemed to be signally blessed of God. But the good Plymouth brethren did not see it at all, because T was a woman; not that I was a black woman, but a woman. Paul had said: "Let your women keep silence in the churches," and it was a great violation of Paul's teachings. They would try, in a nice way, to get me into an argument; but I always avoided anything of the kind; for it is like bodily exercise which profiteth little. One afternoon, as I was in the crowd trying to press my way through, a number of these brethren were at the door waiting for me, and they handed me a great epistle, with passages of Scrip- ture quoted in most every other line. My! they are tremendous on quoting Scripture! I took the letters, and, to their surpris<', instead of reading them before I began to talk, I put them in my pocket and went on. What they meant was, that I was to read the letters, and then they had their questions all propounded. But I just went on. My! how the Lord helped that afternoon, and we had a good meeting. So I think they gave me up in disgust, for I heard no more of thrm after that. And here let me tell how it all came about that I got to 1:0 overland, and so to see Paris and the continent. It was through my dear friend, Miss Morris, and that grand, good man. Lord Mount Temple, and my true friend, Mr. E. Clifford, with whom I had labored at the liroadlands Conference, and in London, at Mr. Charrington's, Victoria Hall. He had been on a tour through Scotland, and hearing of my intention to 383 Autobiography of leave England for India, on his way home he came through Galishields and stopped off to see me. I shall never forget his untiring kindness. But he said he was afraid I was making a mistake in leaving England, for the Lord had blessed me so greatly there; everywhere I went He had given me blessing, which he thought ought to serve as a clear indication that my work was not yet done in England. I admitted it all, for it was true; but down deep in my heart God had put a clear conviction; and then in answer to prayer had made outward circumstances very plain, and I knew well that it was He that was leading, though I could not explain. So when he saw that I was settled in my decision, and when I told him that Miss Drake, the lady with whom I was going, was going overland, he said, "By all means, go overland; and you must see all of Paris, and Rome, and the continent that you can." When he rose to go he gave me a five pound note and said, "Now, I give you this to spend going about, so as to see all you can. You may never have another chance;" That was true. I never expect to have another such oppor- tunity. I thanked him kindly, but thought to myself, "I don't mean to spend twenty-five dollars sight-seeing." We went through on a more economical scale. But I saw what I called many wonderful things, through the kindness of this gentleman and other friends, for I had asked the Lord definitely to open a way for me, that I might get to see Paris and Rome, that I had heard so much about. My going to India came about in this way: I was at East- bourne, England. Dear Miss Mason has a very pretty home at Eastbourne, by the sea, where tired Christian workers may go for a little change and rest, just as she has in London. To this she invited me for a little rest, as I was weary and needed the change. The charge was very moderate, and then the spiritual help was what one needs so much. Praise the Lord for this oasis in the desert. Then to think that I should be thus highly favored. But it is the Lord's doings, and it is marvelous in our eyes. While at Eastbourne I had a letter from my friend, Mrs. Dr. Bordman, in London. She said, " Who do you think is in London, and at my house? Lucy Drake. She is on her way back to India. She was delighted to hear from you, and wants you to call and see her on your way to Doncaster, as you have to pass through London." Amanda Smith, 283 I had known Miss Drake well years bofore; and I was so plad to sec her again. I caUed, and wo had a pood old-fashion.d chat, and a season of prayer. She said she had a conviction (hat the Lord wanted me to go to India. I told her I didn't see it in that light at all. She told me of all her plans, and told me to pray earnestly for light on my own path; " For," she said, " Tm (piite sure the Lord wants you to go." "I have so much work to do here in England," I said, "and calls are coming in constantly from all directions, so that. I could not go. " " If the Lord wants you He will make it clear." "All right." So we parted. I went on to Perth, Scotland. A few days after, I had a letter from Miss Drake, saying, " The Lord has made it clear to me for you to go to India, and I have told .some friends, and they have handed me some money for you for your e.xpenses.'' "Well," T said, as 1 read the letter, "Miss Drake needn't do that, for I am not going to India at all." I had never prayed a bit about it, although she had told me to do so. A few days later a letter came, saying, " It is wonderful how the Lord is answering prayer about your going to India. Dr. Mahan has just come in and handed me twenty pounds from Lord Mount Temple toward your expenses." And I said, as I stood by the mantel shelf, reading tht letter, •' I know the reason Miss Drake thinks the Lord wants me to go with her to India; she is alone, and she doesn't like to travel alone, and it is easy to see the Lord in it; and I don't care, I have work- enough to do now, without going ofT to India; and I'm not going." Just then a voice seemed to say to me, clear and distinct, " You have been saying you would not go to India all the time, and you have never asked the Lord what His will is." "That is true," I said, " Oh, Lord, forgive me." There was no one in the dining room, and just in the corner by the mantel, stood an old-fashioned Scotch arm chair; I turned and knelt down by it. and burying my face in the cushion, and weeping, I prayed the Lord to forgi\i' me for my impertinence, and if He wanted me to go to India, to make it very clear and plain to me, and I would obey Him, and leave all and go. Onlv I wanted to be sure that it was Himself speaking. I cannot tell how, but as I waited before Him, He made it as 284 Autobiography of plain as day to me that I was to go. I praised Him, and rose from my knees, without the least shadow of a doubt in my mind. I had an engagement at Aberdeen, which I saw I would have time to fill before leaving. My other engagements I canceled, and explained how the Lord had changed me about. I wrote Miss Drake and told her I would go, and that I wanted to go overland. Then she wrote to say that she had enough means if I went all the way by sea. I could go to Liverpool and take the steamer and meet her at Suez. I wrote and told her I believed the Lord would let me go overland, and so see Paris and Rome. My! how the let- ters flew! I went on to Aberdeen, and took up my week's services. Then 1 had a letter from Mrs. Bordman advising me to go by sea from Liverpool, and so save a hundred dollars; but I must let Miss Drake know by return mail whether I would go overland or by steamer from Liverpool, as she must telegraph and secure the Titaterooms. After I had read this letter, and thought it all over, I arose and got all the little money I had, and counted it out; it was fifteen or sixteen pounds. I wanted to send home to my daughter, who was in school, three months' board, and that would take it nearly all; and now I must give an answer by return mail. So I took Mrs. Bordman's letter, and the money, and spread them on the bed, and got down on my knees, and there seemed to come over me a spirit of desper- ation and faith as I told the Lord. I said, '* Lord, Thou knowest my heart; how I have longed to see these great cities and the con- tinent. And now, though it will cost more to go overland than to go all the way by sea, yet all the means are Thine, and I am Thy child; and if it can please Thee, grant me this desire." And as I waited before the Lord, the Spirit whispered these words distinctly: " All things whatsoever ye ask in prayer believ- ing, ye shall receive." And I said, " Lord, I believe you will give me the money to go overland." And I arose from my knees, and sat down and wrote by return mail and said, "Please tell Miss Drake to secure my stateroom; 1 will go overland with her." My heart was as light as a feather. My dear friend, Miss Morris, on her way home to Doncaster, stopped in London to see Miss Drake, before I got there, and made up all the deficiency, and then she wrote and said how sorry she was that I had not told her my need. Amanda Smith. 285 "For," she said, "you know. Amanda, I have always told you to kl me kuovv when you really needed ariythinij. I went to see Miss Drake, and she is wry nice, and 1 like hrr very much I was very much interested in all she told me of h.r work in India I ask.d her to tell me frankly if she needed any help for you in any way and she told me what was lacking; on the expenses, and 1 was so glad toijive it to her." So the Lord in this, verified his promise, "All things what- soever ye ask in prayer believing, ye shall receive." Ithinklcansee now that God wanted me in Africa, and He had to send me t./lnd ^ to educate me a little before He could tell me to go to Africa Vm sure If He had told me in Scotland He wanted me t(,go to Africa I should have made a bee-line for the United States. Bnt, oh, how t uZ '"' ^ '^"" "''"'"^^'•'^ ^^'•'^•^•' Him, and thank Him for all the great privilege of seeing what I did on the continent and in Egypt. How wonderfully He answered prayer throu-^h these uistrum^entalities. First of all, Miss Drake, and then Lo^d Mount Temple and Miss Morris, and Mr. Clifford, and others. How wonderful it all seems. CHAPTER XXII. IN PARIS — ON THE WAY TO INDIA — FLORENCE — ROME — NAPLB8 — EGYPT. Saturday, September 4th. We go around to see something ot Paris. My! the wonders; not strange, perhaps, to others, but to me; the statuary, and parks, and buildings were lovely to behold. Sunday, 5th. A beautiful, bright morning. My heart was full of praise as I woke and looked out upon the beauty. But how sad I was in a little while as I saw the buildings going up, men hauling stones, laundries open, everything just like Saturday. Others were going to church. "Oh," I said, "is this fashionable, wicked Paris, to which the eyes of the Christian world are turned for their first fashions and imitations? " And as I thought of it I felt sad. At church time we attended the Wesleyan Church. It was communion Sun- day. The minister preached a grand sermon from the words: "Christ gave himself." Monday, 6th. We go sight-seeing again. One of the places which interested me a great deal was the porcelain works. There T saw where this beautiful china is made. And as the man turned the different articles that he wished to make, from the finest little cup to the largest vase, I thought what complete power the potter had over the clay. There was no dictating from the clay. The potter had full control. At one time he would take a piece of the clay and make one kind of an article; then he would turn the same piece of clay into another kind of an article; sometimes a beautiful pitcher, then a mug, then a basin, and in all shapes whatsoever he willed he made the clay. And then he showed us some with the most exquisite flowering on them that were to be put in the furnace at a certain time, and the fire would bring out all the fine pretty marks and colors. (386) Amanda Smith. 287 As I stooil :in(l h.'.ircl his oxplanution, my heart caught fire; and I thought how much that is like the blessed Muster. Somr- times what brings out the beautiful character is the furnace. And I said, "Oh, Lord, h.'lp me to be in Tliy liands as tliis clay is in the potter's hands; and even when the furnace comes, to submit, and not dictate." "Pains, furnace, heat, within me quiver; God's breath uptiu the llanie dolh blow; And all my heart within me quiy.-rs. And trembles at th(^ fi.-ry glow. Yet I say trust Ilim as God wills. And in His hottest fire hold still." In one of the avenues not far from this place (I'm sorry I can't remember the name), a very wide avenue, with beautifuf trees on either side, almost making an arch, there were long rows of gypsy wagons, with everything to sell; a kind of fair— "Vanity Fair." The minute I saw this it brought to my mind a dream that I had had twenty-three years before. Oh, how marvelous! Everything was almost jusi as I had dreamed it, twenty-three years before! We leave Paris at two o'clock in the afternoon, and travel all night. Tuesday, September 7th. Reach Turin to-night at eight- thirty. Wednesday, 8th. Leave this morning for Florence. Reach there at nine at night. Spend the next day sight-seeing. As we traveled by what is called Cooke's coupon system, which is very convenient, and gives you every information of places of interest, etc., and as Miss Drake had all that part of the arrangement to attend to, I did not even as much as note the names of the hotels where we stopped in my diary, only, perhaps, once, though I was familiar with all the names and places at the time. We had a guide giv.-n us. We first visited the great Uffizi gallery, with its wond.'rful collection of works of art, such as I had never seen before, and never shall again. Here was the first time I ever remember hearing the name of the great painter, Michael Angelo. There was so much that was beautiful, that I could take in but a very little of the whole. I was wond.-rfullv struck with the bust and head of Nero when a boy of tm or fourteen. His coun- 288 AUTOBIOGBAPHT OF tenance was sullen, and I could almost see him as he decided against Christians. The next place we went to was the National Museum and gal- lery of fine arts. Here again was pointed out to us the bust of the great sculptor and painter, Michael Angelo, who is held in loving, if not sacred remembrance. It was he who furnished the model for the great dome of St. Peter's of Rome. All this was new to me, and some things I had heard of by the hearing of the ear. But could it be that I, Amanda Smith, was really living, and at Florence, Italy? Many times while they were talking, and the man would be explaining things, I was lost in wonder, love and praise at the Lord's dealings in giving me the privilege to enjoy so much that I never expected could come to one like me. Surely it is His doings, and very marvelous. Our next visit was to the Baptistry of St. John's. There were those beautiful bronze gates. How magnificent! I can almost see them now as I think it all over. Just as we got there a priest was about to perform the ceremony of baptism to two lovely babies. Two carriages drove up. In the first were the father and mother, with the bab}', and the priest. In the second was the party with the other baby. They were exquisitely dressed. I thought I never saw such lovely looking babies in my life. I would like to have just taken them up in my arms and kissed them. They looked more like angels than children. They didn't seem to offer any objections to us looking on. When it was over I saw the fathers pay the priest quite a sum in gold. My heart was sad for the little things, after all; for I thought they will live and die without the true light and knowledge of the glorious Gospel of the Son of God. Thursday, September 9th. We leave this morning for Rome. Arrive about five p. M. How accommodating and courteous they are at the hotel. We got on splendidly. Here in this great old historic city there is much to admire, and much to be sad for. Poverty and wealth seem to rival each other. I think I got some little idea what it meant for a country to be priest ridden. Every- where you go, up and down, every few stations on the railroad, every train you get off of, or on, priests; all through the streets, in every turn you make, you see a priest coming or going; or two or three or four; scattered in every direction, priests. I never saw so many priests and monks in my life. Old men, with gray hair, Amanda Smith. 289 who had lu'ver dont' a day's work in llu'ir lives; large, well, strong looking men. Some of them looked almost like idiots; their brain, and muscle, and thought had never been developed. They had never worn stockings, or shoes. They wore sandals, and just straight gowns of the coarsest material, with a cord, a piece of common clothes line, round the waist, and the ends, which were lied in knots to keep it from untwisting, hung almost to the bot- tom of the gown; the sleeves were long, and came over the hands, something like the Chinese we see here. You could see these men, in any numbers, walking about. Sometimes you would see them leading a donkey, with a load of grass, which they had gathered, and were bringing into town to sell. They generally visited the hotels, with a little bunch of parsley, and an onion, and a carrot, to sell as pot herbs. How 1 pitied them when I first saw them. I gave them some pennies. Of course, I didn't take the pot herbs; I didn't need them. But I soon found out that that was their business. I never saw one look clean. Oh, how horrible! xVnd these are the men they call holy, because they give up the world, and practice such rigid self-denial. How glad I am that God nowhere teaches that men have to go into filth and indolence in order to be holy. But He does say: " Cleanse your- self from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit and perfect holiness in the fear of the Lord." This is always the way when men change the truth of God for a lie, and begin to worship and adore the creature more than the Creator. Sunday, 12th. Miss Drake was tired, so she did not go out to church in the morning. But I wanted to have it to say that I had b»-en to church in Rome. So I started off alone to the nearest English church. The schedule of the princii)al hotels and churches hangs in the oflace; so I had no difficulty in finding it. So I w»'nt. I found it was a High Church, almost Roman Catholic. They had candl.'S, and choir boys, and they turned toward the east and bow.-d, and the atmosph.-re seemed like a vault. All this was new to me, for I had never b.-en in a Protestant High Church b.-fore. How unsatisfying all this to one who knows Christ. For Him there is no substitute. Monday, 1st. A grand day sightseeing. We had our car- riage and our guide. What I was most an.xious to see was St. 290 Autobiography of Peter's. So to this we went first. The magnificence of this great historic old church cannot be described by me. As we walked through its large corridors and halls, and as I stood and looked up at the great dome, I was almost awe-stricken. It seemed as though it was a mile away, in the sky. What stupendous thought had been put into its architecture, coloring, and statuary. A little to the right of the main entrance was a statue of St. Peter, in bronze, life size. I had heard that it had been visited by thousands of people, and that the great toe on the right foot had been kissed till it had been worn quite smooth. I went up and examined it, and found its smoothness really a fact; but whether the result of constant kissing, or whether from some other cause, I cannot say. I had no inclination whatever to kiss the toe; but I laid my right hand on it, and it felt cold. I said to myself, as I saw many come in and stand before it, and cross themselves and pray, '' That is all they get in return for their long pilgrimages, and their prayers and tears." How sad! How glad 1 am that the lines have fallen to me in a more pleasant place, and I have a goodly heritage. Praise the Lord! The next visit was to the Vatican and we walked through the great corridors, and admired the statuary and paintings, and my head ached with seeing so much. As we were passing down through a beautiful walk we heard some one shout out to us in a language we did not understand; but they motioned to us to get out of the way, and we stepped aside, and there came the Pope in his sedan chair, with his body guard of seven or eight men, return- ing from his morning outing; some were walking in front of him, some by his side, and others behind. And I thought to myself, *' It was only a few years since that I heard the infallibility of the Pope was declared. " And I thought if infallibility had to be guarded like that, what would be my safety in trusting in it. No. My faith is in the infallibility of God only. The next was the Coliseum, with its ruined walls. As the man went on telling us the great stories, and pointing out things of interest and explaining, I sometimes wondered if all he said was real fact, in every instance. Butnoonequestions the veracity of the guides when one is sight-seeing. They are supposed to know everything you ask them, of course. He told us of the great arena where the Christians were thrown in and devoured by the starved lions, while thousands of specta- Amanda Smith. 201 tors were gathered in tho amphitheatre, to look on, witli d. li^rht. And then I thought of Fox's liook of Martyrs, that I nm.mber Trading' whrn I was quite a jrirl, and somctim.'S I wond.-r if much of the spirit. of the a^'c is not akin to it. Christianity has done wonders. HaUclujah! Then tht- Appian Way was pointed out tons, and the guid*- said, •'That is the very road on which they brought Paul from the prison to the court." There was the very floor, inlaid in marblf, like a pavement, on which he said Paul stood before N.to. The next was the Catacombs. We went down about six feet under ground, and entered a little narrow i)assage, and then he lighted tapers and gave each of us one. Then we entered a very large room; and on the clear, solid wall were beautifully painted a pulpit and altar, and nearly all the ritual of an English church service. The colors were as perfect as if it had been done but a little while; and yet it was more than two hundred years old. There were shelves,or niches, cut out in the rock, where their dead were laid; then these were closed up by masonry. A number of the bodies had been taken out by friends, and these spaces were open; but some remained still closed up. They had to go in and out by these subterranean passages, quietly." How much they must have suffered for His name in those dark days of persecu- tion. As I thought it all over, I said, 'Oh, will history repeat itself? May God in mercy deliver us." I was foolish enough to start off in a different direction from the others, alone; though the guide had said to me when we first went in, "Now keep close to me; " but, as he stood explainingand talking to Miss Drake, I turned into, as i thought, another room. But the turns were very intricate to one who does not know. It all seemed to me as the same hallway. But when I found myself I was out of the hearing of the others altogether. 1 kept turning, but didn't .seem to come near them. Then I began to get fright- ened. Then I thought I would stand right still; and so I did, and prayed the Lord to help me. In a little while they came, looking for me. The guide said I did quite right to stop, for then they came and found me. If I had gone on turning they might have missed me entirely. My! I shudder as I think of it. But he never had to tell me to keep close after that. What a lesson I harned. I shall never 292 Autobiography of forget it. I had the lighted taper in my hand, but I should have obeyed my guide, and kept close, as he had told me. God gives us His Spirit, but we must walk in the light of the Spirit; then we will not fulfill the lust of the flesh, going in our own way. May He help us. Amen! Wednesday, September 15th. We leave Rome to-day for Naples. The little prayer I breathed just as we were starting, was, "Oh, God, for Christ's sake, send upon Rome the mighty power of the Holy Ghost. Let the people be awakened." We reached Naples at about half past five or six o'clock p. m. The hotel where we stopped was very fine. We preferred stopping at a hotel where English was mostly spoken, as neither Miss Drake nor 1 were familiar with the French language. We noticed the city abounded with churches; and, on our way up from the sta- tion in the 'bus, as we passed several, the doors being open, as is usual, we could see persons in the confession boxes; some would be coming out, and others going in; and so many poor people seemed to be going hither and yon; and monks coming and going, as we saw at Rome. After we had our supper, as we were very weary, we soon retired. Thursday, 16th. Up early this morning, feeling quite refreshed from our journey. As we had but a day to spend, we thought we would do some sight-seeing; so we got a carriage and a guide, and drove to some of the principal points of interest. The most inter- esting, to me, was the great museum, which is quite elevated, and off in the distance we could see Mt. Vesuvius quite distinctly. One could see it very plainly on a clear day; but it shows very much better on a clear night. It looks like a great burning fur- nace in the distance. Then we went through the museum, and there we saw Pompeii in statuary, as it was, and as it is, in ruins. I had heard of excavations from Pompeii, and had read some little about them, but now I stood by them. Many of the things which were explained to us have gone from my memory since then, but some are very distinct. I remember one figure showed a baker; there he stood by the oven, seemingly just in the act of putting in bread; there was the table, with the bread and pans, all perfect. Another was a person lying on a sofa, asleep. There were policemen standing at the gates going into the city, all perfect. All this seemed to me so wonderful; and when the man was explain- ing all these things to us, sometimes it would thrill through me with sadness. Amanda Smith. 293 Naples is situated at the head of the bay of the same name. The bay is beautifully shaped, something like a horseshoe. Round about is quite mountainous; so at certain poigts as you ascend these mountains, when you get to the top, you can look off in thf distance, and around, and see all the great city below and about you, I thought it was very beautiful; and I kept the great Mt. Vesuvius in my mind and thought for days together. When they told me of the red hot lava which this historic mount belched up and sent rolling down its sides, I wondered how it was that the people seem»*d to be in such peace and (piietness as they were. There W(?re houses very near the base of the mountain as we looked olf, with patches of green that had been tilled for gardens, or what not. No one seemed to be annoyed or thoughtful about it; and I thought how easy it is for us to get used to horrors and sadness. Aftye on me pretty close for awhile; but he turned his head, when he thought I was pretty thoroughly converted after all he had said and explained, and I dropped a few pennies for these poor fellows — about five cents of our money — and such a rush and yell I never saw or heard. Then I did get a little scared. He said, "I told you that if you gave them anything you would be annoyed." Poor Miss Drake didn't know what I did; she declared she hadn't given them a cent; and I tried to look strange and blank. She said, " Did you give them anything, Amanda?" "Oh, I only threw out a few pennies," I replied. So the cat was out; and though our horses were under good speed, our driver touched them up, and we went on faster; and these gentlemen touched up, and came on faster, but they did it so gracefully and beautifully. "Well," I thought, "I have done it now." Finally they began to drop off one at a time till we were left with but two; these accompanied us to the pyramids, and offered to run up to the top for sixpence, if we would give it to them. I thought it was about worth that to go up to the top of that huge pile of stone, for that was what it seemed like; but I couldn't make the offer, for I had done enough; so they ran up a little ways and came back. We walked about a little, and looked into the .tomb where they said the wife of a king was buried; there was nothing in the looks of it that was specially interesting. Then I saw the great sphinx. I used to wonder what it was; but now my curiosity was satisfied. We spent about two hours, and then drove back to Alexandria, and at two o'clock in the after- noon we left for Suez. Suez, Egypt. The hotel where we stopped was kept by an Englishman, and most of the guests were English. I had no diffi- 296 Autobiography of culty on account of my color; everybody acted naturally and with common sense. At dinner I noticed two gentlemen, who sat opposite us; they looked familiar to me. I thought they might be Americans, I noticed they looked at me very sharply, and as though they would like to speak, but they did not, and I felt like I would like to speak to them; but then I thought, "They are strangers; they seem as though they know me; but can it be that anybody in Egypt knows Amanda Smith? " I said to Miss Drake, " I am sure I know those gentlemen, but I don't like to speak to them." The next morning we met again, and Mr. Leech (for that was the name of one of the gentlemen) came up and spoke to me, and said, " Is not this Amanda Smith? " " Yes," I said. "I thought last night it was you; indeed, I was quite sure; but after dinner I went to the office and looked at the register and saw your name." They were two ministers from Newcastle-on-Tyne; one a Presbyterian, and the other a Congregationalist. Both of them had helped me in the meetings that I held at Newcastle, at Mr. Lambert's hall. I introduced them to Miss Drake, and they were so nice they made it very pleasant for us. They had been to Alexandria, and now were in Suez, on their way home to England. They took this little trip of two or three weeks on their vacation. They told us of the great Mahommedan school at Alexandria, which they had visited, of eight hundred students, studying the Koran. It is the largest college in the world where all the students study one thing. They said it was a wonderful sight to see them; they all sit on mats on the floor (all men or boys), and they rock themselves back and forth, and study aloud, so that the din is something fearful! They are supposed to commit the whole of the Koran to memory. How I should like to have seen that school. But we hadn't much time. So that was one of the things we missed. These gentlemen, whom I have mentioned, had a day with us before their steamer came; so they walked out with us, and showed us different places. What was very interesting to me, was the way they did their irrigating. I had never seen it in this fashion before; Amanda Smith. 299 Thorr were lar^M- plots «)f ^touikI laid out, as far as your eye could s»'e. TluTi' were old-lashioncd pumps, such as Ihcy had a huiulriHl years ago, I suppose; then there were long, wooden trougiis holding to the trenches, about five and ten feet apart; they would pump the water into these troughs, and it would run and fill up all the trenches, and then the women and children would stand on either side of the beds, and with their hands throw the water, and so water the beds. Oh, how hard and tedious! But then they nev«'r thought of doing any other way than the way their fathers did That was all thry cared to know. The onions and salads and walrr cress raised in these gardens were very green and nice. How my heart turned to God in prayer for poor Egypt. Only God can change the hearts of these people here, and make the desert blossom as the rose. Lord, once more, send light and help to Egypt! When God called Jesus out of Egypt from the wrath of Herod the king, and when the light had gone out, darkness settled down on Egypt, and still lingers. If the light that is in you become darkness, how great the darkness! Our steamer was due at Suez on Thursday, but it did not come until Sunday. We had these days to wait. I was rather glad, for I thought I never was so tired in my life. But still if we had known the steamer would not come till Sunday, we could have gone up to Jerusalem. These gentlemen told us we could go in twenty-four hours by stage. Parties went up that way often; but they made all the arrangements a day or two ahead; which we might have done, and got back by Saturday night. That was the nearest to Jeru- salem that I ever was, and ever will be again, until I get to the Jerusalem above, I suppose. However, there is nothing impossi- ble, and now that the railroad is there I would not be surprised to find myself going up on the train some day, especially if God said so. CHAPTER XXIII. INDIA — NOTES FROM MY DIARY — BASSIM — A BLESSING AT FAMILY PRAYER — NAINI TAL — TERRIBLE FLOODS AND DESTRUCTION OF LIFE. We sailed from Suez Oct. 26th, 1879, for Bombay, and arrived at our destination Nov. 12th. I remained at Bombay until Jan. 1st, 1880, visiting, in the meantime, various places where M. E. Churches have been established, and holding meetings as oppor- tunity offered. Miss Drake remained in Bombay, and I had for a traveling companion for some time afterwards. Miss Jennie Frow, a mis- sionary stationed at Chaculdah, who had been on a visit to Bom- bay, and now was returning to her work. January 1st, 1880. The Lord's Word to me this morning is, " Lo, I am with you always. " I leave for Cawnpore. Watch night at Dr. Thoburn's church at Calcutta. I dine with Brother Good- win, and the Stones, of Ohio. Monday, 5th. Cawnpore. Praise the Lord for this quiet day of rest. A nice drive to Memorial Gardens. What a sad fate that of those who sleep there ! How dreadful the story of the Cawnpore well, where so many were massacred and thrown in at the time of the great Indian mutiny. Wednesday, 7th. Conference opens to-day. A solemn but blessed time. The meeting of so many friends. How mucn it seemed like home to me. Praise the Lord! My head is very tired, but my soul is fresh. Thursday, 22nd. Allahabad. Spend the day with Brother Dennis Osborn, Saturday, 24th. My last Saturday in Alahabad. We go to the Maila. It is like what we would call in this country a fair. Oh, the hundreds of people. Oh, to see the heathen idol worship! (300) Amanda Smith. 301 How Slid Id Sff llir cUfftTeiit idols they worship displayed on their Mail's and in esery i}ossible shap»* and way. My heart ached, and I prayed to the Lord to send help and light to these poor heathen. Friday, Feb. 13ih. Dear Jennie Frow is not so well lo-day. God bless her! It is now Jennie Fuller. She was married since then. We leave to-day for Naj^pore. Praise God for His threat care over us durinj^^ the night. We had to drive with the bullocks this fifty-one miles back to Acola. They had been mending the road, and there was a great deep gutter about a quarter of a milt- in length. We had to change our bullocks three times; a.nd the third time we thought we had got a very stupid driver; we got to a place where the bullocks would not go on, and the man seemed to be stupid. Poor Miss Frow remonstrated, and told him to go on; but the bullocks would not go; so wa- thought we would get out, and see what was the matter. It was very dark, and there were no lights; and when we got out and walked 'alwad two or three yards we saw the great danger we were in; if the bullocks had gone on, they would have surely broken their necks, and we might have been killed. Oh, how we praised the Lord when we saw the danger that God had saved us from. Then we had to turn the bullocks down on the lower road. There are generally two roads; a native road, and an English road; the English roads were better, as a rule; they generally kept in their i)rovinces good roads; we were on the English road, so we had to turn out and go down on the native road, which was very rough, because they never mended them, or made any repairs on them. Sunday, 22nd. A meeting at Camp Te to-night. The Lord helped me this once. He led me to give my experience, and I had great liberty, and he made it a blessing. We leave for Eleg>?pore. I feel I ought to stay. There was such an interest manifested in the grand aftermeeting. Col. Whillock was a very earnest Christian gentleman; he had a very beautiful little daughter, and one night when we were hold- ing meeting in a large hall (he always took an interest in any religious meeting, which was not very customary among English soldiers), his little daughter, about ten years old, became very much interested, and when I asked them to rise for prayers, among others in the great congregation, this little girl rose; and the Lord blessed her; she seemed very happy and bright. Her fatlu-r was 303 Autobiography of delighted with her decision; the mother, too; but still she was afraid she did not understand what she was doing. But the little thing persisted, and had the sympathy and help of her father. So she would have her mother come to me next day, and I had a ver3' nice Christian talk with her, and told her how she might help the little child, and she seemed very much pleased. The child acted out her position by beginning to do some- thing. Her mother kept a Hindoo derz}'; a man who does all the sewing and mending and everything of the kind, in a family. Some of them have two or three. You will find them in almost every family in India. All the clothes to be made or mended are given to these men, and they sit down in a corner that is arranged for them, and do the sewing. They come and go, morn- ing and evening, and are very quiet. They never pass about through the house only at their work. This one had been living with them a long time, and was a pucka Hindoo; that is, what we would call strong, or rank, or staunch in their faith. So little Ethel began to tell him about what Jesus could do; and as she could talk the native language as well as a native, he listened to her; and she kept it up till he got so interested he asked her for a Testament; and so she got a Testament, and made the old man promise that he would read it. He was greatly pleased with it. Who knows but what that child, though but ten years old, who was the means of getting that Hindoo to read the Testament, was sent by God with light to this poor, dark mind. *' It may not be my way, It may not be thy way; But yet, in His own way, The Lord will provide." When we went to leave, Mrs. Whitlock gave me a very hand- some India shawl, and prepared us a beautiful lunch, and in so many ways was kind. In the lunch, she put two loaves of bread, a half dozen boiled eggs, six bottles of lemonade, a bottle of cham- pagne, a bottle of wine, and I don't know what all else; but she sent a man with a note on Sunday afternoon, and this beautiful basket of lunch. My! what a time I had over it. I couldn't send it back. The shawl was an elegant thing. U was about a twenty-five dollar Amanda Smith. 303 shawl. The only objection I had to it, was, it was scarlet. But, still, that was not much, for I could gt'i it dyed. But, I thought to myself, "What will I do with this wine and brandy?" 1 knew Miss Frow would not touch it, and I was a staunch teetotaler, " If I take it and say nothing about it, she may think, and tell some- body, that I was a good woman, and yet I accepted it," and I didn't know what to do. So I prayed about it very earnestly. The enemy wanted ti. make me believe that she would be greatly offended, and that now I would undo all the good work that I might have done. Oh, how terribly tempted I was over that! Sunday night was my last night. I spoke at the hall. And that was the night I had promised to speak more espec- ially of temperance. But then I had received a bottle of wine and a bottle of champagne. So the Devil suggested to me that nobody would know it, and now if Col. and Mrs. Whitlock were there, it would be better for me not to say anything about it, after they had been so very kind, and that they did not see it like T did. So I reasoned. At last I resolved by the grace of God I would tell Mrs. Whit- lock that I could not have it, and would go on and speak on tem- perance in the meeting, as I had intended. So, when the time came, I went to church. Just as I got to the door going in, I met Col. and Mrs. Whit- lock, and little Ethel; so I very kindly thanked the lady for the elegant shawl, and for the lunch which she had .sent me; but then, I said, "Now what will I do with the bottle of champagne and the wine? for I am a staunch teetotaler; I never touch it." " Mi.ss Frow looks so pale," she said, " I thought a little wine would do her good." "But, Oh," I said, "she would not touch it for the world. She is also a staunch teetotaler." Then she laughed, and said, "You do with it, Mrs. Smith, anything you like." I thanked her very kindly, and told her I would. The Lord gave me liberty in speaking that night, and I was very strong on the subject of temperance. No one was oflfended. Everybody seemed to be much interested and pleased. We went from there up to Chaculdah. That was Miss Frow's station. Mr. and Mrs. Sibley were there in charge of this station, and she was their assistant. 304 Autobiography op What a pleasant time we had at Chaculdah. There was a poor, old, native Christian woman who was very ill. She had been a very faithful servant in a Eurasian family for years; but because of great persecution from her own people on account of caste, though she believed in Christianity, she never came out. But when she got feeble, and sick, and very bad off, she went over to Mrs. Sibley's instead of going to her own people; she wanted to be a Christian; and they put her in a little house where she was very comfortable. She was very fond of Miss Frow. So the first thing we did after we got home and rested a little, we went in to see this old woman. Oh, how emaciated she was! so worn; and she was dying; but she seemed to be happy. Miss Frow talked and prayed with her. When we went out I said to Miss Frow: "How would it do to give this woman (she is dying anyhow) a little of that wine?" "Oh," she said, "I wouldn't dare to do it. She used to like it very much. They used to have it, of course, in the families where she had been so long, and she had got to like it, and it might be the means of diverting her mind. I had rather she would die without it." So there I had it to contend with. In a few days the old woman passed away. That was the first native Christian funeral I had seen. They dressed her nicely, and then the natives came and embalmed her, and then we carried her to the grave. I shall never forget how pretty and nice it looked in the grave. She was the first native Christian that had been buried in that part of the country at that time, so it made quite a sensation. The grave was dug down a certain depth, and then dug out in the side so as to form a kind of niche, or shelf, and she was laid in this niche, then the earth was thrown in; so that the earth was not thrown on her, like we do here, and I thought how nice it was; I wouldn't mind being buried there myself. I think it is a much better way than putting the earth right on top of the coffin. There we left her, to rest till the morning of the resurrection, when the trump shall sound, and when the dead in Christ shall rise. The grave did not seem to have gloom and sadness, even in India, with Christ. Amanda S.muh. 305 From Chaculdah I went to Lcnoula. I kept this wine and champagne in my lunch basket, well covered up. 1 was so afraid somi'budy would see it, and if the natives saw it, I would not l)f able to explain. I thought I would take it to Bombay and give it to old Sister Miles, who was a grand, good woman, in the hosi)ital at Bombay and, like Dorcas, " full of good works all the time." "Well," I said to myself, "Mrs. Whitlock said I could do with it what I pleased, and I will give it to Sister Miles. She is so judicious and careful, she will know whom to give it to — the very weak and faint ones who are about to die; 1 don't think it would be any harm to give it to them." Brother Fox was Presiding Elder, and it was Quarterly Meet- ing at Lenoula. So after resting all day, they had meeting Friday night. At first I thought I would not go out, as it was quite a little walk from the house to the church. Then the moon was so beautiful and the evening was so pleasant, that I decided to go. The Lord's hand was in it. He had a great lesson to teach me. Brother Fox preached. A number of natives were taken in. Then we had an after meeting. It was full of interest and si»irit. Just as Brother Fox went to close the meeting, a man rose in the rear of the church, a fine looking Englishman; how well I remember him; I can see him now. He was a man that weighed about a hundred and fifty, and was about five feet and something in height; he was dressed in pure white, and had a full, round, flush, English face, with black hair and black eyes. I had noticed he had sat very seriously looking and listening all through the service. But now he was on his feet, and he called out: "Brethren, I want to speak a word." " Go on, certainly," Brother Fox said. And he said, in a most deploring, pleading way, "Oh, breth- ren, brethren, whatever you do, be careful about strong drink. Don't ever advise any one to take it, under any circumstances," etc. My! I trembled. I thought, "There, now, everybody knows I have those bottles." They were in the lunch basket, well covered up, away back under the bed in my room. But it seemed to me somebody had found it out. Well, I heard the story of this man. He said: " I have been a man that has been addicted to strong drink, and I have been overcome. It has been mv ruin. But I came here and was con 306 Autobiography of verted, and for two years I went on, and the Lord blessed me. But I was not here at the last Quarterly Meeting; and why? Because I had been overcome. I was sick with diarrhoea, very bad, and a good brother came in to see me, and he told me if I were to take blackberry brandy it would cure me. I took it. The diarrhoea stopped, but it brought back the old appetite, and for six weeks I was in the gutter. For God's sake, don't advise anybody to take it. Better let them die." And then he sat down. "Lord," I said, "help." There was a sad feeling that went over the house. Then Brother Fox got up and emphasized what he had said, and told an experience similar that he knew of, and then another, and another. One man stated another case: He said that he knew a man who was very ill. They took him to the hospital. He was about dead, as they thought, so he prayed and gave himself to the Lord, and was very peaceful and happy. It pleased the Lord after awhile to restore him so that he became quite convalescent, and one day a friend went to see him and he looked so weak and pale that he thought that just a little wine might refresh and strengthen him, so he got some wine and took it to him. It brought on the old appetite so strong that that night this man slipped away from the hospital and went into the town and got some cheap whisky and got so terribly drunk that next morning when they found him he was in the gutter dying. "Lord, deliver me," I thought, "can it be that they know I was going to take this wine to Sister Miles? By the grace of God I will never do it. Though she is judicious and careful, it might not be the thing." On Monday morning, about five o'clock, I left Lenoula for Bombay. I never told anybody about what I had. They all sup- posed it was nothing but lunch in my basket, as everybody carried a lunch basket. And after the train left the station and we got pretty well under way, and there was nobody in the compartment but myself (the Lord helped me to be alone, for I said, "Now, Lord, help me to get rid of this champagne and wine"), I took the bottle of champagne, and just as we were crossing a very deep cut, about fifty or a hundred feet deep, I threw out the bottle and heard it rumble and gurgle as it went down. "Dust to dust, ashes to ashes," I said, then out went the other bottle. Amanda Smith. ^07 Noono saw me, and I exp«'Ci thry an- th-To yet, for th.' cut was so d»H'p thai no mortal would rvor go down after thorn, I think. And that is the way I got deljve-atcc from my cham- pagne and win»>. Th<> day we left for Chaculdah we prayed around — Miss Wheel. T, Miss Frt)w, and I, last. I had been so deeply touched at seeing the sacrifice and need of these poor girls. Th.-y were there all alone. Fifty-one miles was the nearest r;iilway station. And but two or three English families within two miles of them, except some English officers' headquarters. Two of these officers had thrir wives there some of the time, but they are often, both husbands and wives, far from being Chris- tians, and have but little sympathy with missionaries and their work. So these two girls, being there alone, were looked upon with a kind of suspicion. No woman had ever been known to build a house before. But Miss Wherler had b.-en her own archi- tect and superintended her work, bought her lime, and tiles, and thatch, and everything. I have known her while I was there to be out counting tiles from six o'clock in the evening till nine and sometimes ten o'clock at night. The native men whom they had to deal with, felt like some of the English officers who were there. They thought that a woman had not sense enough to build a house, and if she had she ought not to do it, for it was lowering her dignity as a woman. So the men gave them a great deal of trouble. They would come and make fine promises, then you must pay them so much money before they brought the things you needed or ordered. Then they would go away, and you might see them again in two or three days, or a week, or maybe not all. All this time you could do nothing, but you must wait. A thing of that kind might happen two or three times during a month. So the work was delayed, and they had much to con- tend with. It was three miles to the nearest village, of more than two thousand inhabitants, where Miss Wheeler used to go almost every day and do her missionary work in the. zenanas, or preach to a crowd in some open space in the village, or under a tree. Then they had a room where she dispensed medicines two or three times a week, as the case might be. 308 Autobiography op Miss Lucy Drake, now Mrs. "William B. Osborn, of Hackets- town, with Miss Wheeler, was the first to start the work at Bassim, under the auspices of Dr. Cullis, of Boston, but after a year or so Miss Drake's health failed and she returned to America, but Miss Wheeler remained. She has never been home since she left. She IS a marvel. Her powers of endurance and stick-to-it-iveness and deep heart loyalty to God have made her rightly called one of God'& noble women. If they needed a loaf of bread, or a pound of sugar or flour, or the most trivial article, if they didn't happen to have it in the house, they had to go, or send, fifty-one miles for it, which gener- ally took about three days, with a slow-going ox cart, as we would say, but bullock wagon, as they say in India. Those were the pioneer days. God has wrought wonders since then. Praise His name. How I did pity and sympathize with these poor girls. So while I was praying the morning before I left the Spirit of the Lord came upon me in a wonderful manner, and I was led to pray, "Oh, Lord, put it into somebody's heart to build a railroad through this part of the country, so it will not be so hard for those who are isolated to get the things they so often need." I shall never forget how I felt as I prayed. And these words came to me: "Therefore I say unto you, all things whatsoever you ask in faith believing, ye shall receive." And I saw a rail- road as really as I ever saw a railroad, by faith. When I rose they laughed at me, and said, "You think we will have a railroad?" '•Yes," I said, "God will do it. You will see." And it did come to pass in less than two years after, that the East Indian Railroad Company put a railroad right through that section of country and, I was told, a station within two miles of Bassim Faith Mission House. That was the name inscribed on the front of the building. While I was in Africa a Mrs. Wills, from Bassa, Liberia, was in London on a visit. She went to a meeting at Miss Mason's House of Rest, and there she met a lady who told her to tell me when she got back to Africa that the prayer I had prayed in India for a railroad to Bassim had been answered, and the railroad was finished. That was the first I knew of it from the time I prayed, and I said, " Praise the Lord. Is there anything too hard for God? " \.MANPA Smith. 300 Naini Tal, India, Wodnosday, SoptombiT 15, 1880. Tho morn- ing is beautiful. Miss Fannie Sparks and I take our men and go up (o what is called the snow seat. It is about two miles, I sup- l>ose, right up hill. The men who carry you in the dandies, when they get to a certain point on the hill, turn you round, and carry you up backwards. I don't know why they do this, but I think they have an idea that you are not so heavy car- ried that way. Miss Sparks had four men and I had four. When we got up to the top of the hill we found it very broad, a kind of tableland. You can look for miles away, and the hills arc covered with snow. When they put us down, and we stepped out of our chairs and turned round, we looked right on the great mountain ridge of snow, beautifully white, and the sun shining on it like silv.T. Oh! I thought I never saw anything so beautiful. I wanted to shout right out, and wave my hat. But then one has to be so careful, because the natives watch you, and they think that it means you are worshiping Uie snow or the great mountains. So I had to restrain myself from shouting and dancing. Oh! the sight was glorious to behold! Miss Sparks and I walked about, and then we sat down and had a nice little Bible reading together, and then we knelt down and had such a blessed prayer meeting. I shall never forget that morning. That night, Wednesday night, was our prayer meeting. We were not very spiritual, still we had a good meeting. Thursday, September 16th. The day the great Hood began. It rained all day Thursday. Sometimes it would lighten up, and seem as though it was going to clear off; then a heavy cloud and fog would set in, and the rain would pour. All day Thursday, all night Thursday night, all day Friday, and all night Friday night. By that time we began to get s.-rious; we wond.-n'd; for the water ran in torrents; great trenches would give way in the ground; banks were falling in; and we did not know but danger was com- ing to us. Miss Sparks, and dear Miss Leighton, who has recently gone to her rt'st, were staying at the Mi.ssion House, with Mr. and Mrs. Mudg.-, and we were expecting to return to the plains the following week. Mr. G. N. Cheney was pastor of the Methodist Clhurch. Kev. Mr. Buck was pastor of the native work. I stayed 310 Autobiography op with Mr. and Mrs. Buck, at their home. I shall never forget their kindness to me. Friday night we didn't sleep much. Mr. Buck was up most of the night, working; he and the boys. I had four boys and Miss Swain had four. We generally had to keep these boys by the month, so as to have them when we wanted to go anywhere; for we could not walk up the hills, they were so steep and long. We didn't pay them much wages; we didn't have anything to do with finding their food, or anything of that kind. We gave them a suit, which was their outfit. In this, the Lord was good to me, for dear Mrs. Fleming gave my boys their suits, and made them; and they didn't cost me any- thing. I remember so well what they were, and how nice they looked; they were of a kind of brown flannel; the pants just reached to their knees; the coats were bound with red round the bottom and sleeves; and a little skull cap bound with red; they were very picturesque. There are alwaj's outhouses where the servants stay. These boys used to get wood and sell it days when they did not have anything else to do; so they kept along very nicely; I used to buy the wood from them sometimes. Well, Mr. Buck and the boys worked all night almost. When Mr. Buck came in in the morning, he was very much exhausted. How pale he looked. We could not get any breakfast; nobody seemed to want anything to eat. He said we would have to pile up all the things in the house. So we began. The people up at the Mission House had piled their trunks outside. The water began to come in on them. Between three and four o'clock in the morning Miss Sparks and Miss Leighton came down to our house. We had got our things out of one part of the house, and piled them in the parlor; then we took them fiom there and piled them on the veranda out- side. When morning came we were all in the parlor having a little rest. Some one said we ought to have a prayer meeting; so we got down and pra^^ed as best we could; then we rose, and were quietly thinking what was the next thing to be done. I went to my room, for I felt I could pray a little better alone. After awhile Miss Sparks came in, and she knelt down by the bed beside me, and we prayed. I shall never forget Miss Sparks* prayer. Hill Men, Naim Tal. India. Amanda Smith. 311 Whf'n wo iiroso sho said. " Tho Lord has ^nvt-n me th<' assur- ance that this house will not po down." 1 said, " Amon." After we went out, tho engineer, who liad been examining the hillside, came by and said to Mr. Buck, " I think this end of your house will go; but the other end is on the rock, and I think it is safer. About nine o'clock the baker came. We got several loaves of bread, for that was about all we could get to eat. I bought two loaves for my men; they had not had anything to eat, and they were shivering with the cold, and were wet and hungry; but their caste feeling was so deep, that, hungry as they were, they would not touch the bread. One of them seemed for a moment to have forgotten; and just as I picked up a loaf and handed it to him, tho other shouted to him, ''Don't you do it! " and he threw it down as though he had had a snake. Poor fellows, how I pitied them I One da}' one of my boys was sutTering with a pain in his stomach, and came to me for some medicine, he said. I had some Jamaica ginger, and I mixed some with some water and sugar, and brought it to him; I never thought but he would -drink it right down; but, no, he said, he could not. "Well," I said,." what are you going to do?" And he went to a tree and got a leaf, and shaped it, and I had to pour the liquid in the leaf, then he drank it out of the leaf. If he had drunk it out of the glass he would hav(^ broken his caste. Oh, how they are anchored to that caste feeling! But God is delivering them. The door is open. Light is coming. Praise the Lord. The hotel was a very short distance from the mission house: tx'iiiaps a half block. There was a lady, wliose name I have forgotten, who had come up from the plains a few days before, and was staying at the hotel (her father's), with her two children, and her native nurse. The youngest child was about a year old: the other about two years old. The nurse was giving the baby his bath in their room, and the mother had taken the other little boy. and gone out in the breakfast room to breakfast. She had not more than got out of the room when the side of the hill came down and buried the nurse and baby. Mr. Buck and I were standing on the veranda. Mr. Buck said, "Well. Sister Smith, this is terrible. " 312 Autobiography op "What will we do?" T said. It would be as dark almost at times as six o'clock in the even- ing. Then it would lighten up, and you would hope that the sun was coming out; but, no. After awhile Mr. Buck looked up the hill toward Government House. Government House was a large house where the Governor lived. It stood on a beautiful hill; and, though it was quite a ways up to Government House, it was beautiful to look from; the sight, when you got up, was charming, every way you would look. So, standing on the veranda, we could look eastward and see Government House quite distinctly, though it was about two and a half or three miles away. And, as Mr. Buck stood looking, he said to me, "Why, Sister Smith, just look at those trees." And just as I turned to look, the trees were swaying first one way, then another, and' all at once there was a crash, and they went down so gracefully, and the earth plowed like a great ava- lanche. Well, there was a panic. Everybody left the house, and got out as quickly as he could; the newsspread.rapidly, and in a little while there were a hundred and fifty or two hundred men, many of them English soldiers, digging, trying to get out this child and nurse; and while they were digging away as hard as they could, and we were lamenting, and feeling the sadness that had come upon this family, the earth gave way again, and buried them. They didn't see the danger, and we couldn't alarm them; their heads were down as they were digging; and it struck the other part of the hotel and swept on, then it passed on like a great moving mountain; I never saw such a sight; it moved on, carry- ing great boulders on its face! The next was the large reading-room and postoffice that stood on the lake, the Hindoo Temple, and Bell's large store. I had just seen from the veranda some ladies and gentlemen go into the reading-room, and they had not come out; and there were persons in Bell's store whom I knew; one, a lady who was a very earnest Christian. I said to Mr, Buck, "Oh, Bell's store," and I had hardly got the words out of my mouth when it was swept awayl Then "The Reading Room," and I had no more than said it till it was taken! "And there goes the Temple next " and there it was in the lake! Amanda Smith. 818 The liike was about a half-miK' wide, and, porhaps, three miles in length; but the whole thing swept into the lake, and the noise was like the blast of a cannon, and the smoke ascended upwards; it swept everything clear; and there was not a brick of the chimney, or a piece of wood left. The horror of that hour I never want to see again! Then the men came and said we would all have to leave the house; so we started. We thought we would go to the M»'th«xlist Church; but the native Christian Church had been swept away, and so th»*y had taken refuge in the church. The first native Christian had died on Friday night. Slu- had been sick for quite a while, and Mrs. Buck and all went and did everything they could for her. She was in one of the outhouses on the hill. So Mrs. Huck and I went up and prepared her for her burial. Mrs. Buck drt'S.sed her in a nice white gown, combed her hair, washed her, and got her all ready to bury, and we left her lying on her bed and went down to the house; and about an hour and a half after it seemed like the Lord buried this woman Himself; for the house gave way, the ground opened, and she went down, bed and all, and was covered up. I never heard that she ever had any other burial! Well, when they told us we would have to leave the house, we thought we would go to Mr. Sasha's; he was a photographer. Everybody had to look out for himself; and I felt I was alone, and everybody had so many more cares, and so I had to do the best 1 could for myself. Miss Sparks and I were the last to leave the house. As we started down to Sasha's I thought I would go over lo Mrs. Fleming's, which was about a quarter of a mile further along from our i)lace-. Mrs. Fleming had a large dressmaking establish- ment. Htr men, who worked for her (for the native men do all the drt'ssnuiking, pretty much, there,) are called derzies; some- times slu' would have twelve men, all sitting down on the Hoor in a row, sewing. She did the cutting and fitting, and these derzies did all the other work; the trimming and fi.xing of all kinds. Her men were all gone. They had sent the children away, and Mr. and Mrs. Fleming were the two last to leave the house, and they were going on horseback. I said to Mrs. Fleming, '*I don't know what to do, or where to go." "Well," she said, "go with us as la'- as Sasha's." 314 AuTOBiOGRApny of The sweeping away of the Hindoo Temple had made the Hindoos so vexed; they felt, and thought, the Gods were angry with the missionaries, and so had destroyed their temple; and there was an expression of indignation on the countenance of every one. I remember as I was going along I would put my foot on what seemed to be a piece of turf, but it would give way, and some- times I would go down almost to my knee; sometimes when I would step on it I would stick in tight; once or twice I thought I was stuck fast; two or three of these men passed by, and with a scornful sneer they grinned as though they hoped I could not get out. I prayed to the Lord to help me, and finally I got to Sasha's. I went in. Miss Sparks, and Miss Leighton, and some others, had gathered there. Mrs. Sasha had a very sick baby; but she had had the servant get them a cup of tea, and they were getting a little refreshed; so when I got in they gave me a cup of tea, and Mrs. Sasha got me a pair of dry stockings; and just as I got my stockings on, and drank part of my tea, Mr. Mooney, an English- man, came and said, " You will have to get out of here as quick as you possibly can; all the houses on this hillside are falling down." Mrs. Sasha picked up her baby, supposed to be dying, in her arms, and started; we begged her to wait a little. She said, "It is easy for you all; you have got religion, and "something to com- fort you; but I have not." Then clasping her little baby she ran. Mr. Sasha got the hammock and sent the boys after her, with some other things, for she went without a bonnet. I was the last to get out of the house. I was so weak I trembled from head to foot. I was not excited; I was just we^; and it seemed to me I could never get my things on. But when I did get them on, Mr. Mooney-r-God bless that man; all the rest had gone — took me by the arm, and literally dragged me. He was a very strong man. As I think it over now it seems I can feel the grasp of his hand on my right arm. We went from there to a Mr. Frazier's, about a mile away, on the other side of the hill altogether. As I went along I said to myself, "The idea of running away from God." l said to Mr. Mooney, "I don't mean to go another ^Wfi-^f ^ 5»^j;><;; J-^:^-^^ '0mM'^^r m -'M Mi ^ ;^^ Amanda Smith. B15 peg; all the people c:in i^o who want to i^o; but I am doiu' running; by tho grace of God I shall not run anywhere. Running away from («od! Lord, hrlp mr." And ITi- did. We got ovtT to Mr. Frazicr's, I suppose about five o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Frazier was a Scotchman; a very nice man. He had a large house, and he and his sons wrre there in some kind of gov- ernment businrss. So we were all very comfortable. They got us a very nice supix-r, and we were all enjoying it. But the sorrow and .sadness among the poor soldiers' wives and their companies, and the \veei)ing, were very touching. After we had had supper, and were sitting talking, each one telling how he got out, what he thought, what he did, etc., Mr. Buck began to feel an.xious to know what had become of the poor, native Christians, and he said it was so dark he didn't know what to do. Mr. Mooney said, " I will go and see what has become of them." Mr. Buck said he would be so glad if he would. So Mr. Mooney started off. About a half hour or more after he had gone, all at once there came over me a horror of darkness and awful sadness. I could not account for it. I left the room and went otf to myself, and knelt down and prayed. Oh, hosv I prayed! I said, " Lord, there is no use going anywhere, but somebody is in awful danger." It seemed to come to me as though somebody was in danger; and so I prayed the Lord to deliver somebody from danger. My heart seemed to get a little quiet then, and I got up and went out into the room again. I looked at everybody, but no one seemed to be unhappy; they were peaceful and quiet; so I sat a while, and they talked on. Finally this agony came over me again; then I said to the brethren and friends, "Let us pray; I feel that somebody is in great danger; Oh! let us pray!" and we all knelt down and began to pray. When we got through we arose, and about a half hour afterward Mr. Mooney came back, and told what a narrow esca|)e he had had fn)m death; and looking at his watch, and comparing the time of the danger with the time I had had the agony, the time was identical. A flash of lightning saved him from going down into the lake; though he knew the road so well, the trees and boulders had so piled up across the road that he missed his way, and just as he 316 Autobiography of Amanda Smith. was going to step into the lake a flash of lightning came, and instead of stepping forward he stepped back, and to one side, and so was saved. Now, that seemed to be a strange coincidence; yet it was God. T shall never be able to tell anyone the awful agony that came over me to pray for somebody that was in danger. This man was my savior a few hours before; and, in answer to prayer, God helped me to be his savior a few hours later. Praise the Lord! He still moves in mysterious ways His wonders to perform. CHAPTER XXIV. THE GREAT MEETING AT BANGALOKE — THE ORPHANAGE AT COLAR — BURMAH — CALCUTTA — ENGLAND. This was a bU'SSed time. We should like to have stayed a few days longer; but previous eugagemeiits being made, we had to pass on with praise in our hearts to God that He gave us the priv- ilege of sowing, if only a little, for Him, and with prayers and tears to be watered, and in due time the harvest will be reaped. May the Lord help us to believe as we pray. Miss Anstea came to Bangalore to attend the meetings. She came, she said, for a definite object, and that was, for a renewed baptism of the Spirit; and, after waiting several days, the Lord helped her, among others, to claim by faith what she had asked for; and she returned to her home and work, filled; and when 1 got there and saw the work, I said in my heart, "If ever there was need of such an anointing and empowering, dear Miss Anstea needed it." Three hundred helpless souls God had committed to her care; and they leaned upon her as they would upon a mother. You have no idea of the care and anxiety and responsibility of such a position unless you were there to see it. In connection with the orphanage there are two farms: Naz- areth and Bethany. Miss Anstea is the head of all this work; and while she was so anxious that they should know all that would help them on in life, temporally, she had the greatest concern in the salvation of every soul; for this she labored and prayed daily; and. accordiuir to her faith, so it was unto her. I am more and more convinced that to succeed in God's work everywhere, one needs to be filled with the Spirit and mightiness of God, and especially so in India and Africa. Superstition and idolatry, and infidelity, are so rampant it (ai7) 318 Autobiography op seems the very air one breathes is impregnated with them. Oh, how the dear workers all over, need constantly the fresh anoint- ing of the Holy Ghost, which can and does reveal the almightinesa of Jesus to save from all unrighteousness. Sunday was their Communion Sunday. It was a beautiful sight to see so many remembering the Lord's death, till He come again. It was very solemn and impressive. A sight like this means more in India than it would in England; these are poor orphans redeemed from heathenism. I expect to laud and wonder at His grace through all eternity. Amen. Miss Anstea had invited me to come to Colar and visit her mission. So, on my way from Bombay, I stopped at Colar for a week. Colar was a large, native town, and Miss Anstea's mission covered a large area, in which she had a chapel, and a very nice, commodious mission house, large, comfortable apartments for the boys and girls, separate, and several very comfortable houses for missionaries, all nicely situated and well furnished. I held meetings in the little chapel every night. Our morning prayer was similar to a service; at the ringing of the bell the boys and girls would file in and take their seats, and we would have prayers before they weni to work. The Lord gave us great blessings during the week's services. At night the church would be crowded; large numbers of the heathen from the outside came in; many of them seemed to be deeply interested. The Lord wonderfully helped me to speak to them every night; and several of the children professed to be con- verted. One Sabbath morning as we were at prayers at the Mission House, a poor woman came and sat on the veranda, outside, with a beautiful baby in her arms, about three or four months old. When prayers were over, she was asked what she wanted. She said she wished to see Miss Sob. That is what the unmarried ladies are called in India by the natives; a married lady is called Mame Sob. Miss Anstea had several helpers, English persons, a man and his wife, and two unmarried ladies. Always after the prayers with the boys in the chapel in the morning, they had their family prayer at the Mission House. So, when Miss Anstea went to this woman and asked her what she wanted, she said that she had had nothing to eat for two days, and she was starving, and she wanted her to take her baby; she ANfANDA Smith. 319 h;ip silence in the churches." So they had nice articles in the daily papers; then they wrote me kind letters, and bombarded me with Scriptural texts against women preaching; pointed out some they wished me to preach from. I never argue with anybody — just say my say and go on. But one night I said I would speak on this subject as I understood it. Oh, what a stir it made. The church was packed and crowded. After I had sung, I read out my text: " Let your ' men ' keep silence in the church," quoting the chapter and verse (1 Cor., 14:28) where Paul was giving direc- tions so as not to have confusion — one to speak at a time, while the others listened. And then one was to interpret, and if there was no interpreter, they should keep silence in the church. So I went on with my version of it. We had an excellent meefing, and the newspaper articles stopped, and the letters stopped, and I went on till I got through. I have wondered what has become of the good Plymouth brethren in India since the Salvation Army lassies have been so owned and blessed of God. Their work has told more practically on the strongholds of heathenism than all that holy conservatism would have brought to bear in a thousand years. Oh, that the Holy Ghost may be poured out mightily! Then shall the prophecy of Joel be fulfilled. For are we not living in the last days of this wonderful dispensation of the Holy Ghost? Sunday, Feb. Gth. A blessed Sabbath morning. My last at 323 Autobiography of Bangalore. After a good day, I spend the night at Major Orton's. Praise the Lord for a good rest. Monday, 7th. The word of the Lord this morning is, ** Behold, I set before you an open door. " Amen. In the afternoon I take a drawing room meeting at Mrs. Orton's. The Lord was with us, and gave me great liberty in speaking. Wednesday, 16th. I leave Dr. Jewett's this morning for Ran- goon. Very sick, but peaceful. Praise the Lord. Saturday, 36th. We get in at three in the afternoon. As I look I see a boat nearing us, with three men in it — Brother Rob- inson and some others. Brother Robinson takes me to his nice home. I was entertained there for several weeks. God bless him and Sister Robinson. Wednesday, March 16th. Leave Rangoon to-day on the steamer for Maulmain. Kindly received by Mr. Norris and Miss Barrows, Baptist missionaries Hold my first meeting at the Bap- tist Church this evening at seven-thirtj'. It is a new thing in the Baptist Church for a woman to speak. We had a large company out. After Mr. Norris had spoken to them, he introduced me. The Lord helped me to sing and talk. On Sunday we commenced meetings again, and went on for a week. The people came from far and near. The Lord was with us and blessed us. Friday, 35th. Miss Barrows and I leave to-night for Amherst, in the boat. It is slow, but rather pleasant and cool going down the river. Get to Amherst at five a. m. : go ashore at six. A fine, large mission house, roomy and pleasant all about. Oh, Lord, I will praise Thee; Thou hast dealt so bountifully with me. How beautiful this place, and the quiet is so restful. Sunday, 37th. Go to the Burmese service in the Baptist Church. A native minister preaches. At five p. m. the Lord helped me to speak to the people. Wednesday, 39th. We leave this quiet place for Maulmain. We make our last visit to the grave of Mrs. Judson, hear the story of her life, and I breathe a prayer to the Father for His Spirit more fully in my own heart, as these words come to me: " Let me die the death of the righteous, and let m}' last end be like hers." March 30th. Get to Maulmain in time for a meeting for women, and speak at night. Called to see several of the old Chris- tians. One old man was baptized by Dr. Judson. What a grand * Amanda Smith. 323 work this mission has dono for this part of Burmah. How I admire those grand heroes of missions in the days when it cost more and meant more than it does now. Surely, " Their works do follow them." Amen. Rangoon, British Burmah, April 4, 1881. "Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow." This has been a precious day. Dear Mrs. Boyd sent her carriage for me, and I went and spent a few hours with dear Mrs. Bennett and Miss Watson, Baptist mission- aries. The Lord helped me as I told them of His dealings with me, and how He had sanctified my soul. The Lord gave light, and when I arose to go, dear Mrs. Bennett said, taking my hands in hers, " Now, I want to say to you that this has been the hap- piest hour I have spent for years, and when I think that the Lord has raised you up and sent j^ou here to teach me of these wonder- ful things of God, I praise Him. Now, I do trust He will bless you and keep you." And then opening the door of a little closet near her, she handed me a donation to help me, as she said, in God's work, and regretted she had no more by her. This good woman of God has given her life to the heathen in India. She has been abundant in labors for more than forty years. And now her eyesight has failed her, and also her physical health, and she is laid aside. And no doubt it is a great trial, for her life has been such an active one. But, thank God, she is finding His grace sufficient for her. One of the first things I was struck with was the pagoda, or Burmese temple. You can see its dome for two miles away, as you look off, before you get into harbor. The streets of Rangoon are wide and rectangular, like those of Philadelphia, and the shade trees over the city are very graceful. After being in Burmah a few days I wanted to visit this great temple. So I started, in company with some friends, and after walking some distance from Brother Robinson's house, we came to what I suppose would be called the park. There was an ascent of about seventy-five feet up a series of steps into the pagoda; a gentle ascent, not tiresome. On either side of the way were devo- tees at prayers, or beggars waiting for their rice; or booths where you could buy false pearls, imitation diamonds, beads, packages of gold leaf, flowers and cakes. The trinkets and flowers are given as offerings to Buddha; the gold leaf was sold for acts of piety. 334 Autobiography of Oh, how horrid this ;ill S(M^m<^d to mo. I looked at the sad expression on the faces of the poor women devotees, and then 1 thought that they would go on, and live and die, and never know that Jesus died that they might live and have life and happiness in Him. Inside of this park where the pagoda stands, are thousands of gods, of all sizes. I thought I would count them, and when I got. up to a hundred of those that were not broken, T quit. And then to think of the many, many years that the religion of Buddha and Brahma has gone on, and holds such sway yet. To me this is among the incomprehensibles. The Burmese ladies walk about in the street; their dress is very pretty; a very handsome figured cloth, almost always silk, and just wrapped about the waist and tucked in at the side. They do not fasten them with pins and hooks and buttons, as we do, and yet they look very neat. You never see a Burmese woman with her hair uncombed: but they use no hairpins; how they put it up I don't know; but it is as straight, every hair, as it can be. It is done like the Chinese women do their hair. They are very shrewd business women. I saw them unload- ing wood and marketing, just like men; and in any kind of busi- ness you will see Burmese women sharp and active. I was so amused to see the Chinese and Burmese carpenters. I watched them one day as they were building a house, and there would be a half-dozen men, and they would be sitting down using their planes, holding the board wit>h their toes. They have some very large and fine buildings there. Their funerals are something like the Hindoos'. A big man had died; I heard a great sound of music, such as they have there; I can't describe it; it couldn't be described by music that we hear here; tin-pans and tambourines, and something like the noise that a stove pipe, or something of that kind would make. Oh, it was a jingle. Mrs. Robinson called me to look out at it; it was on the main street of the town, and it was a large funeral. Dozens of men would go before the hearse and lay down cloth; the hearse would drive over this cloth; and so they went on, the music fol- lowing this procession. When a poor coolie man di'^s they carry him around till he becomes so offensive that I was told, sometimes the authorities Native Christian Family, India. Amanda Smith. 325 have to iiilci-ti'r*'. They give them all the chance they can to come to. Bill, poor things! they are dead, three times dead; plucked up by the roots. Brother Robinson, pastor of the Methodist Church, has done a good work in Burmah, and his influence has been felt. He was much thought of by all the other denominations. I was given a sketch of the Burmese religion. One of the strong points in their religion is the transmigration of the soul. Guadama was the last great man born. He was born six hundred and twenty-five years before Christ, and lived in this world about eighty years. He was the son of Thokedaucareh, king of Burmah. He had previously lived in four hundred million worlds, and had passed through innumerable conditions of each. He had been almost every son of worm, fly, fowl, fish or animal, and almost every grade of human life. At length he was born, son of the above-named king. The moment he was born he jumped upon his feet, and spread- ing out his arms, exclaimed. " Now I am the noblest of men. This is the last time I shall ever be born." His ears were so beautifully long they hung on his shoulders. His height was nine cubits. When grown up, his hands reached to his knees; his fingers were of equal length, and with his tongue he could touch the end of his nose! The only sacred books of the Buddhists are the laws and say- ings of Guadama. When this was told me, and explained in points that I could not pretend to give, it seemed incredible; and yet, when one is there, and mingles much with the people, one can see how tena- ciously they hold to just that superstitious belief. Oh, how dark- ness has covered the land, and gross darkness the people. Among other interests in Burmah I had hoped to distribute about eleven Bibles among those who wanted them. I knew God would bless His own Word. But when I got to Calcutta, where I hoped to be able to get the Bibles, as I could not get them at Bur- mah, I found that Bibles in the Burmese language were very large, and very expensive; so that I was only able to send one, to a very interesting case, a Burmese man, with whom I think the Spirit of the Lord was working, and he was very anxious for a Bible. How much good anyone with a missionary spirit could do here in Burmah, or India, and especially if he or she had an aptness in acquiring the language. 326 Autobiography of I had wished thai my own daughter would have such a desire to do something for her fellowmen. I have prayed and asked the Lord to thus incline her heart, if He would have her. I have edu- cated her, and done all I could, as far as I was able, to prepare her for a useful life; and now I leave it with her and her God. He knows my heart. I long to have her do what I know she could do if she was only fully consecrated to God. I would not have her come to this country without a full and entire consecration. And in her own land I fear she will do but little without it, like so many others. When I think of what God has done forme, and how He has led me since I gave myself fully to Him, I am encour- aged to praise Him for all that has passed, and trust Him to guide my child that she may work for Him. Amen. At eight o'clock one night I held a meeting in the Methodist Church for colored men especially, as there are a number in Bur- mah, and Rev. Mr. Robinson, who is pastor of the Methodist Church, was very much interested in these men. Several of them had families; and he had tried to get them to come to church. Being an American, he seemed to sympathize with them, and to know how they felt in that country where customs are so ditfer- ent from what they are in the United States. So he said while I was there he thought it would be nice to call them together and have me talk to them, which I was very glad to do. There was a nice company of these men gathered; some were from the West Indies, some from the west coast of Africa, and some from Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. One man from the West Indies had been in Burmah for twenty years. They were all men of average intelligence, clean, well-dressed, and sober; there were but three men in the company who acted a little as though they were under the influence of strong drink; one of these was from Boston, and his name was John Gibbs. He had been in Burmah sixteen years; another was a Mr. Jordan, a man of good position, a stevedore; he had been here sixteen years, also; and another, a fine looking young man from Baltimore, by the name of Jenkins. There were about twenty of these men in all. They sang, just like colored people can sing. I spoke to them from the fifty- fifth chapter of Isaiah. I dwelt mostly on the words, " Let the wicked forsake his ways, and the unrighteous man his thoughts." The Lord helped me, and His Spirit was present. Amanda Smith. SS*? I asked before I began who amongst them was converted. Only one man answered; he was a grand, old man. He had walked in the light of full salvation, and followed the sea, for fifteen years. After I had got through speaking I asked him to pray; he did; and how the Lord helped him! He said he had been in Burmah twenty-five years. His son was with him; a nice young lad; may God save him! When the prayer was over, I said, " Is there any- thing you would like to sing? " "Yes," said one young man, from the west coast of Africa, and who had been here only three days, "Sing such a number." I found it; it was, "Stand up for Jesus, Christians, stand." As soon as it was announced they all seemed to know it,. and they sang it well. After they were seated I talked to them a while. I said, " Now, who of you would like to have us pray for you ? Hold up your hand." And six or seven said, "Pray for me." Then Brother Robin- son, the pastor of the church, spoke to them. Then after another season of prayer, I said, "What shall we sing to close?" when young Gibbs, from Boston, said, "Please sing 'God our help in ages past.' " ■ He started it, and they sang it as if they knew how. Oh, it was good. How I have prayed that God would get glory out of this meeting to Himself, and save those men. Amen. In talking I told them I believed that God meant they should live in a heathen land as Christians, and as colored men they should show the heathen with whom they came in contact that their God, whom they are taught to believe, is able to save them out here, as well as at home. We arranged to have them come together on Wednesday even- ing for a little tea meeting. May God help us. Would to God that He would anoint some one who would work his way to this land, rather than not to come at all, and see after the flock here that stray and wonder and have no shepherd. I saw this need in Liverpool, England; and also in Bombay and Calcutta These were colored men; my own people. Some of them had left good. Christian homes, and started out Christians themselves. But they get into these ports, and there are no colored churches or missions to go to, and they feel lonely, and ofter give up all hope in Christ. 328 Autobiography op How my heart has ached for them. How I wish that my people in America might feel that they had a mission in this, looking after th«se poor men that brave the stormy sea. 1 wish they could think and feel about it, and put their thoughts and feel- ings in action, as the white people do; for in every port there is work done among white sailors; and if any men deserve to be looked after, and comforted, and helped, and cheered, it is these brave men, white and black. I hardly ever hear the wind blow at night that my heart does not breathe a prayer to God for sailors. How many young men, and old ones, too, leave their homes converted, and many times get through the voyage all right; but they have no place to go to but these sailors' boarding houses, and they are thrown in with all sorts of sin and wickedness, and they finall}' drop into those ways. How my heart has ached for them as I have seen them in Lon- * don and Liverpool; they could go to church and be better treated there than in the white churches at home; but the old feeling of prejudice follows them, and they seldom venture to church. If there were a church or place of worship where they knew their own people were assembled, they would feel free to go, I thin... That is why I think our ministers at home should take this into consid- eration. A good many of our American men, when they get to England, or India, or Burmah, or any other country, if they stay, feel they must get a wife, of whatever place they are in; if in England, an English wife; if in Burmah, a Burmese wife, and so on; and, in so many of these instances, when these sailors do marry, whether it is a white woman in England, or whether in Burmah, or anywhere else, it is generally somebody that likes whisky; and that is the sad part of it. In Burmah it seemed that these men were better off than the most that one meets on foreign shores; some of them were engineers on railways, some conductors, some in government service, and they all had good positions, and made money. Some of them Lad nice families of children; but their wives didn't go to church, and their children didn't go to Sabbath School; so they generally were a hindrance to their husbands, instead of a help, in that respect. One has no idea of what these things mean, unless they Ai