Africa: Arrival at Monrovia

I arrived in Monrovia on the 18th of January, 1882. I left Liverpool on the 31st of December, 1881. On the 7th of January, 1882, I arrived at Madeira; spent a few hours with Mr. Wm. G. Smart, of the British and Foreign Bible Society. He is a missionary to the sailors. He came on board our steamer. I was introduced, and, after he had had some conversation with the sailors, he asked me if I would like to go ashore. I told him I would, and when he was ready he called for his boat, and away we went.

We had a little stroll through the very primitive old town, to the post office, then to Mr. Smart's house. He showed me some repairing they had already done, and a large place was then under repair for a school and sailors' reading room. Formerly it had been a store-house for spirits. When he told me of the change I was glad; and sang as I stood in the street, "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow."

Then we went into the house. Mrs. Smart was ill in bed; but, oh, such a sweet, earnest, out-and-out Christian, one don't often meet in a foreign land. I spent three hours with them, and had an elegant dinner, and sang and prayed.

Madeira is almost all Roman Catholic. The window of the priest's house looks right into Mr. Smart's Sitting room. His windows are often hoisted mornings and evenings when they have family worship, and they say the priest is not bigoted, and they often see him listening to the songs and prayers. May the Lord mightily awaken him! Amen!

About eight o'clock the boat took me to the steamer again, and I was much refreshed and encouraged on my way.

On Monday, New Year's Day, we were at Grand Canary. A very pretty looking place from the ship. Here we got vegetables. This is the home of all the canaries in the world, I am told.

The captain and some of the officers and passengers went ashore. It was a magnificent, moonlight night. The captain asked me to join in the party, but I declined; I quite preferred quiet and the lovely moonlight. After a few hours the whistle blew, the anchor lifted, and we were off. Oh, this narrow bunk, and this dreadful rolling! I shall be so glad when I am through.

The next stop is at Sierra Leone. And now three days to Monrovia. This is a very busy looking place. A great many come on board to get work. They are called coolies. Some of them opened my trunks and helped themselves. There was a white Wesleyan minister that came on board who was very kind, and as we were there for a day, I would like to have gone ashore. I asked him about the prosperity of the work and the churches. He didn't seem to speak very favorably. He said that the colored missionaries were not men that could he depended upon to advance and develop the work as one might suppose.

At this I felt quite indignant, and thought it was because he was a white man, and simply said that about colored men. But after I had been there awhile, and got to understand things better, I quite agreed with what the missionary told me on my first arrival on those shores.

The captain and purser were very kind. They were greatly annoyed to think that my trunks had been interfered with. They stopped at Sierra Leone to take on coal. My largest trunk was down in the hold, where all the large trunks were, and these coolies were loading coal all day, and so were down in the hold a good deal, where the trunks were.

The first I knew of it was, I was up on deck, and as I went to look over on the lower deck, just at the side of the ship, where the steps go down, I saw one of the officers have a pair of shoes in his hand, and I thought they looked like my shoes; but I knew my shoes were in the trunk. Then I thought somebody had come on to sell things, as the did. All at once I heard a great outcry of "Thief, thief, thief!" And then I saw them bringing a man along from aft; a nice looking fellow, tall and clean looking; and he was declaring to all that was above and below that he had not touched anything, and that he was not the thief.

COOPER'S WHARF, MONROVIA

I felt so bad for him. The head man had hold of him, declaring he did have the things, and he declaring he did not. Then I thought the head man, being a black man, too, was very hard. But he let him go, and the storm was lulled for awhile. Just then some one said in a low tone, "Look under his shirt." So the head man jumped at him and lifted his shirt (which was outside his pants), and there, if that fellow didn't have twelve yards of flannel wrapped all about his body!

Then I said to the man below, "Maybe those are my shoes."

"You had better come down," he said, "and see."

So I did; I put my foot in the shoe, and sure enough, it was my shoe.

"There," I said, "my trunk has been opened."

So I had them bring it up; the catch in the lock had been broken, then it had been filled up with pitch, so it would stick; it looked as though it had not been touched but there they set it on the deck, and all stood around while I went down into it. The tray had been carefully lifted out, and just what they wanted had been picked out, and they were gone. Some of the things I got. Others, and among them some very choice ones, I never got. But the Lord kept my heart very quiet; the captain and officers looked perfectly astounded because I didn't rave. The captain said to me:

"Mrs. Smith, I don't see how you do keep your temper."

"Well," I said, "Captain, I am sorry to lose the things, and if losing my temper and getting in a rage would bring them back, you would see me cut a shine."

"Well," he said, "I don't understand it, Mrs. Smith; it is too bad."

They did everything they could for me, and wanted me to go ahsore and give my affidavit against the man. But they had enough, because there was another passenger whose trunk had been opened, where the flannel, and soap, and quinine, and all these things had been taken out; so I thought I got on very well, and I told him that I wouldn't go.

Wednesday morning, Jan. 18th. Monrovia. We are in the harbor. The beautiful palm trees in sight. We are anchored. Breakfast at nine. And now here is Miss Sharp. Glad to see her.

We are soon off for the shore. The tide is very high, and crossing the bar, just before we get inside, I sing the Doxology

and the rest join in the chorus. Five minutes more and the kroomen, being attracted by our singing and not paying attention, let a great wave break over us and we were wet through. I was glad we sang before we got wet, for not one of us sang afterward!

There was one white man in our boat, a German, a Mr. Amyre, and Miss Sharp and myself. I went to her house at the Seminary and stayed three weeks and three days. Then the Lord led me forth. Amen.

My first Sabbath I was asked by the pastor of the Methodist Church, Rev. Charles Pitman, to take the service. I did so, and spoke to a crowded house, and the Lord wonderfully helped me; and the following Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights I was asked to continue, and did so, and some, I trust, were saved.

Friday, Jan. 20th. I took my first boat ride, up the St. Paul river to the Muehlenberg Mission, Rev. David Day, of the Lutheran Church. I had a delightful time at Brother Day's.

Sunday, 22d. Communion. I speak three times, to all that can be packed in the little chapel. The afternoon was for the children, as they had been crowded out in the morning, but the big folks crowded in after the children were seated. So we had a good time. Praise the Lord.

Monday, 23d. I leave for New Georgia, Rev. Mr. Hargrave's appointment. I speak in the Baptist Church to a large company.

Tuesday, 24th. I leave this morning for Monrovia. Go to Dr. Stanford's for dinner. Call and see Dr. Garnet in the evening.

Friday, 27th. Call to see President Payne. And on Monday I saw him for the last time on earth. I was taken down Tuesday night with fever, and it was ten days before I was able to go out again. On Monday night, the 30th, Mr. Payne died.

Tuesday, Feb. 7th. I leave Miss Sharp's, and am invited to Mrs. Payne's, a home I feel God Himself has given me. Oh, how I do praise Him! I am comfortable, and have every care.

My first "Fourth of July" in Monrovia, Africa, must not pass without a brief notice, only they celebrate the 28th instead of the 4th, as we do in America. A tirade was given on that day by the Hon. R. H. W. Johnson, against the churches. He said:

"Liberia should be independent in her religions as well as in her politics. But what does the foreign church bring us? They don't come with the pure Word of God. They come with some old traditions about the wickedness of Nimrod, and other old

customs handed down by the Jews, who relegate to hell everybody but themselves. They come with some old pro-slavery traditions that assign all negroes to inferiority and eternal perdition. They come with all kinds of 'isms,' and 'schisms,' and doctrines, and disputes, and contentions, of more than fifteen hundred years' standing; contentions that have caused rivers of blood to be poured out on the earth; contentions and doctrines which not only the people of Liberia do not understand, but which have never been understood by those who bring them to us. You may be sure that any religion that teaches the inferiority of the negro never came from heaven."

This was the first big speech that I had heard, and I was astonished beyond measure. The church was filled with the best people of the capital and of the republic, ladies and gentlemen.

This address was received with enthusiasm and delight. And yet every one of them knew that no such religion had ever been taught in Liberia. But these are some of the things you meet on your first arrival. I think I discovered a change before I left, and trust it is still growing better.

While here, I saw a great need among the native boys that lived in Liberian families. Some of them go to Sunday School, but many, like in this country, did not go at all. I thought if I had a place of my own I might do something for them. I saw how they could be gathered in for an hour or two after the regular Sabbath School was over. I thought they might be helped a little. They would gather together and go in numbers to walk about as they would say, or go to Krootown, where they would not be any better for so doing. I saw this, Sabbath after Sabbath.

I thought if I had the money I might get some place. There were no houses to let there as here. There was an old seminary building and it was much out of repair, but still there were several rooms in it that could be used if they could be cleaned. There was a large garden that was all grown up with weeds.

All this would take money to clear up. I did not have it; so I began to pray the Lord to put it in the heart of some of my friends at home to send me money. I had been around in America to so many camp meetings and in different churches, and so many different parts of the country, east, west, north and south, and everybody seemed to know Amanda Smith, so many had helped me often, while there, and they would remember me now in Africa, and so help me.

Up to this time no one had sent me any money from home, but God wanted to teach me a lesson that I must needs learn, so now on good faith I began to pray as I had always done, for I never tell people my need; I always make my needs known directly to God. I prayed the Lord to put it into the hearts of some of my friends. I would think of one in New York, then another in Philadelphia, another in Boston, another in Ohio, and so I prayed the Lord would influence the hearts of these to send me the needed money for this work.

Week after week passed on and no money came. I still prayed on; I knew in so many hundreds of necessities where God had heard my prayer for temporal things. I told him He knew I was not asking for myself, I had a comfortable home with dear Sister Patsey Payne, of precious memory.

While in her home I was well nursed and cared for when I was sick with fever. My own mother and sister and brother could not have been kinder to me than Sister Payne and her daughter Miss Clavender, and her dear brother, B. Y. Payne. I feel to say as one of old: "Let my right hand forget her cunning and my tongue cleave to the roof of my month." if I ever forget the loving kindness shown to me in their home while in Monrovia. But for the care I had while passing through the fever I believe I should have been dead and in my grave to-day. How dear Miss C. watched over me and nursed me. I saw she was worn and weary and I got a friend to come in and stay with me one night. When I told Miss C., she said:

"No, auntie (for they all called me Auntie Smith), I would rather watch myself; I will not sleep though I know you have some one with you."

She was a splendid nurse. One might have thought she had been trained in some American institution; but I insisted on having this person come in, so she came in. It was not long till the poor thing fell asleep. I was nervous and restless, so asked her for something, and dear Miss C. came and handed what I wanted, and said Mrs. T. is asleep.

She did not go out of my room all night, so after that I said, "Well, if you are not going to lie down there is no use in my having Mrs. T. come in."

She was delighted, and said I told you not to do it. I thank God because of good and proper care. Though my attacks of fever

MISS C. PAINE, MISS CORRIN PAINE, MR. B.Y. PAINE, MRS. PATSY PAINE.

were severe they did not keep me down long, two weeks would be the longest. As soon as I was able I would be at my work holding meetings, and out at night, which is not the wisest and best thing for a new-comer going through acclimating fever.

Again to my subject. I still prayed for the money, then waited, weeks went on, steamers came and went, letters came, but no money. Sabbath after Sabbath passed on; there were these native boys I wanted to help, and still it did not come, so one day I went to the Lord and asked Him what it meant, that He knew what I wanted to do for these poor native boys, and He seemed to say to me:

"You are not trusting in Me, you are trusting in America; you are looking to America for help more than to Me."

I saw it in a moment. Yes, it was true, I really was leaning on America.

"Lord," I said "forgive me and help me to give up every hope in America and trust in Thee the living God;" and I let go and rose, praising the Lord for showing me my mistake.

About two weeks after this a letter from my good and very faithful friend, Mrs. Margaret Davis, of Ireland, whom God hath raised up to help me as surely as He ever raised up a prophet in Israel. Oh, what that Christian lady did for me while in Africa tongue can never tell, eternity alone has the record.

In her letter was a five pound note; so God, in His own way, began to help me. Then shortly after this another token of another answer to prayer, a friend in India sent me five pounds: then after I had learned my lesson well a letter from the Western Christian Advocate from America came with five dollars in it, and several times from the same source came small sums; then some friends from Mrs. Carrie Judd's home, in Rochester, sent me a small sum; then some friends sent me some through Mr. Richard Grant.

So God showed me when I had learned to let go of human help and expectation, and trust in Him alone, that He could take care of me without America if He wanted to, for He had sent me to Africa Himself and I must trust Him to see me through.

I went to Brother Cooper, who then had the old seminary building in charge to look after, and got permission to use one of the rooms. I got a man to whitewash it and have the rear and garden cleaned of weeds, and the brush burned, then myself and

one or two whom I could get, washed the windows and scrubbed the floors and I covered the chairs with some of the cloth that Mrs. Davis had sent me in a box, and put curtains to the windows and had some glass put in, and after days of hard work I got things in order.

Mrs. Davis had sent me in a box a number of cards and Scripture texts. Whenever she sent me a box it seemed she thought about everything. If I had sent an order myself I could not have been more explicit and thoughtful of what I really needed than was Mrs. Davis. So I had those nice mottoes for the wall. Oh, it did make it look cozy and nice. Different friends would come in and greatly admire them.

My first meeting was held on Friday afternoon, it was a Bible reading, a number of persons came out. Then on Sunday morning at six A. M., we held our band meeting that I had reorganized months before, and Sister Payne, my hostess, was appointed leader.

In a week or two after this a vessel came in—the bark "Monrovia," and the Librarian Conference was to be held at Bassa. I wanted to go to the Conference, so this was my only chance. I took this opportunity, and, though it would bring me there a week in advance, it was better to go then, than not to go at all; I want to stay three weeks, so I thought; when I got there the Lord seemed to direct me to go to Cape Palmas. I had been trying to get to Cape Palmas for two years, but was hindered time after time. so I gave up all hopes of going.

Now, when I got to Bassa, and found that Bishop Taylor was going, after the Conference, direct to Cape Palmas, I said to him, "Bishop, I have been trying so hard to get to Cape Palmas, and I heard you were going direct from the Conference to Monrovia."

"No," he said, "I am going straight on to Cape Palmas."

"Well," I said, "now, as I have been trying so hard to get there, it seems that this is my chance, what do you think about it, Bishop?"

"Well, Amanda, I think the Lord will have you go now, and I am just as sure the Lord is in it is I ever was sure of anything."

I had left my little native girl at Monrovia, so I asked Brother Palman if he would take Frances to his house. They lived at Paynesville.

Mrs. P. was very kind to native children, and I knew it would

ASHMAN STREET, MONROVIA, LOCATION OF FIRST M.E. CHURCH.

be a good home for Frances; then, it was out of town. Brother Patman at once said, "Why, yes, Sister Smith, Frances will be just like the other children, if you will be satisfied, we will see after her and do all we can for her."

Then I was confirmed, for this was the only difficulty I had; when that was settled, it was all clear, so I went to Cape Palmas with Bishop Taylor.

I will not stop to say now about the meeting and the first work, but will, later on.

I did not get back to Monrovia again for two years and three months, so that ended my work that I hoped to do for the native boys, but the Bible readings and the Sunday morning meetings, Sister Payne kept up till she died; then Sister Julia Sanders, one of God's noble women, was appointed, and has led on the little band which is the spiritual bone and sinew of the church even to this day.

I have never seen a nobler band of Christian women anywhere, considering what they have to contend with, many of them in their own homes as well as outside. They have been a lighthouse and source of salt to all the marshy places around about them.

Thank God, even in Africa, there are those who have power to keep the banner of holiness unfurled and sing as they march:—

"All hail reproach or sorrow,
For Jesus leads me there."

And these shall walk with God, for they are worthy. Amen.

July 1st, 1882. Clay-Ashland. Just two weeks ago I came to Clay-Ashland, and my stopping place is on the St. Paul river, with Mr. Henry and Miss Martha Ricks, or "Uncle Henry" and "Aunt Martha," as they are more accustomed to being called. They are both devoted Christians.

I am very comfortable and feel quite at home with them. And cousin Sarah is a jewel. God bless her.

Rev. Mr. Richards is pastor of the Methodist Church. He asked me if I would take the service on Sabbath morning. I chose the words for the basis of my remarks, "Awake thou that sleepest and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light." These are the words the Lord seemed to impress on my mind from my observation of the feeling among the people. The Lord helped me to deliver the message and blessed the people; and there seemed to

come upon them a spirit of revival, and there was a prayer meeting appointed, and on Thursday evening I took the service again; then they appointed a prayer meeting for Friday afternoon; one seeker came forward for prayers; then there was another meeting appointed for Monday afternoon. On Wednesday and Thursday I gave some Bible readings.

July 25th, 1882. On Thursday night the Lord was with us in power; the altar was crowded, and a number professed to have found peace, there were some grand cases of real conversion. Praise the Lord.

We went on holding three meetings a day, in the morning at six o'clock, in the afternoon at four, and in the evening at eight, until Sunday. Being just the time of the rainy season, sometimes we were hindered by the torrents of rain. Sunday night was one of those wet nights, but the people came out; there were twenty-six in all who professed conversion during this week of revival services. Several native boys, who were servants in the families, were converted; these, to me, were the most interesting cases. Poor things, how my heart went out toward them! No one thinks much about them, or pays much attention to them. But it is wonderful when they begin to pray, to see how they will stick to it; and in their darkness, feeling after God, if happily they may find him.

Sunday evening I spoke to the children at the Sabbath School, on the subject of temperance, with good effect, I trust. At night, Brother Richards preached and I gave an exhortation. and the Lord greatly helped us. On Thursday night I spoke on prayer. On Sunday I spoke in the Presbyterian Church. We had a good congregation, and the Lord helped me to talk to the people, from the fifteenth chapter of John: "The branch and the vine."

Then I go to Virginia, and stop with Mrs. Fuller. I go to the Love Feast on Sunday morning. It was very wet and rainy, but we had a good meeting all day. What we need most is more of the Holy Ghost power. I had great liberty in speaking in the afternoon to a crowded house, from Romans 12.

On Monday, Mrs. Fuller and I go to Clay-Ashland in the canoe, and make some calls. We go to see a poor, sick, widow woman, and give her a word of cheer, with prayer and song. Then to see Brother Capehart, and then home, to my dear Aunt Martha and Uncle Henry Ricks'. It is so nice to get back; and I finish a long letter to my friend, Mrs. McDonald, Malden, Mass.

Bassa, Lower Buchanan, W. C. A., Feb. 8, 1883. Mr. Johnson asks me about a Mr. Declaybrook, who was here about two years ago, and said he came to raise funds for a girls' school. He wanted to see what the people were willing to do, and then he was to go back home and report, and they were to send the teachers out at once.

Mr. Crusaw, who was quite able, put down his name for a thousand dollars, Mr. Johnson for a large amount, and many others.

He went all through the county at Clay-Ashland and Arthington, and there were many who gave the money who were afraid they might not have it when he came again. He represented himself to be a pastor of a Baptist Church somewhere in America.

That is the way our people are humbugged. Good schools are so much needed, and these deceptions hinder greatly.

I asked the Lord to give me a word about Cape Mount. I opened at the fifth chapter of Luke, and my eye rested on the last line of the tenth verse; also the tenth verse of the fourth chapter: "Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men." And, "He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee."

My third Sabbath in Lower Buchanan, Bassa. Preaching in the morning by Rev. Mr. Briant. Sabbath School. Mr. Briant addresses the children. He spoke fifteen minutes, but said nothing! At half past seven I take the service—a Bible reading.

On Monday evening I began a series of services. I spoke on Monday evening, and gave a Bible reading consecration; a few people present, but the Lord helped me to speak for Him; so we went on, and the interest increased each night. Wednesday night and Thursday night a number came forward to the altar seeking sanctification. Friday evening we had a Gospel Temperance meeting. Four signed the pledge, while there were two seekers at the altar for salvation.

My last Sabbath. I spoke from John 17. The Lord helped me. The balance of the day I was ill. Lord, make me strong.

Upper Buchanan, Feb. 23, 1883. I leave Lower Buchanan to-day for Upper Buchanan. Stop at Mrs. Horris'. A pleasant walk late in the evening. This is a beautiful place. I have a nice room fronting the sea, with a fine view. And this is Africa, and I am here! Praise God for His goodness and mercy to me.

I expect, God willing, to walk to Congotown to-morrow to

preach. God bless the dear people; and sanctify the message God may give me for them. The people are very kind, but the spiritual indifference among the people at Lower Buchanan is sad. Oh, God, awaken them! Awaken them!

On Tuesday I visited Mrs. T.'s school. There were about twelve or fifteen pupils present. Oh, the lack of life!

There is great need of good books. In this the government is very slack; and until we do our whole duty in this, our country is doomed. Education is our country's great need. There is so little attention paid to the education of girls; not a single high school for girls in the whole republic of Liberia. It is a great shame and a disgrace to the government.

Upper Buchanan. I am stopping with Mrs. Rebecca Horris. She has a nice, large house, which has been a first-class one; but it has gone down greatly.

Yesterday morning, Sabbath, I went to Brother Thomas' charge, a Congo village, to Church. Had a pleasant walk. Rode part of my way in the hammock. Spoke in the morning from Luke: "Have faith in God." The Lord helped me.

In the afternoon I talked in the Sabbath School, and got fifteen signers to the Gospel Temperance pledge. The Superintendent of the Sabbath School and the local preachers and class leaders would not sign the pledge. Oh, what hindrances they are in the work. Lord, save them, or move them out of the way.

Had a poor night's rest, but feel better this morning, thank God. Sister Thomas gets an early breakfast, and I start home to Upper Buchanan. Brother Thomas walks with me. Sister Toliver and Sister Marshal call, and we have a pleasant chat. The Lord is making away for His people. Oh, Lord, give us the whole city! Send on the people the awakening spirit, the deep, awakening spirit of the Holy Ghost! Send it, Lord! Amen. Amen.

Edina, Grand Bassa, West Africa. On the 12th of April, 1883, in the evening I spoke in the Methodist Church, on the witness of the Spirit. I had been much in prayer all day.

My heart was greatly burdened for a precious soul, a Thomas Anderson. He was a young lawyer of great promise, but strong drink had been his ruin; so that his brightest prospects in life had been dimmed. But when he heard of Gospel Temperance he was glad, and the first week I held Bible readings he came and seemed to be much interested. He came also to the night services. The

Spirit of the Lord got hold of him, and he yielded himself fully to God, and on the morning of April 15th he was clearly baptized by the Spirit. He felt the Spirit of God bearing witness with his spirit that he was fully accepted of God.

It was the Friday appointed by the President as a Thanksgiving Day; so at six o'clock in the morning we had prayer meeting, and the power of the Lord was present to heal backsliders and sanctify believers. Anderson had signed the total abstinence pledge, and when the society was organized he was made vice-president; but he was not permitted to serve very long.

With honor he delivered his first address, on April 25th, at the Baptist Church. He began, after addressing the congregation, by quoting the verse of an old familiar hymn:

"I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see."

All felt the force of his remarks, for they knew full well what they meant. The address was powerful; broad and comprehensive; he handled it as a master from two standpoints, experience and observation.

His wife, who had shared all the hardships of a drunkard's wife, but never left him, signed the pledge with him. And though she was a professing Christian, yet being oppressed, and so often in sorrow, she had grown weary and cold in her spiritual life; but she gave herself anew to God.

In a few days after this she was taken very ill; and, after suffering for ten days, she passed away to her final rest, on the 26th, and was buried with the honors of the newly organized Band of Hope Gospel Temperance Society, from the Baptist Church, on Friday, the 27th.

This was a great shock to poor Anderson. He, himself, had not been well for weeks. But he was the teacher of the school there, and so kept about. He was taken to his bed about the first of May. After his poor wire was taken he seemed to break right down. They had no children, fortunately. I say fortunately, for of all the sad things that can happen, the worst is for a child to be left with the heritage of a drunken father.

Strong drink does not only destroy the soul and body of men, but robs them of every comfort of life. And now this was his portion; and those who were his friends in prosperity, were not to be

found in time of his great need. Oh, how he suffered from want and neglect. I did all a stranger could do, for I had only known him and his wife for a short time. But I think I never saw such heartlessness in a Christian community all my life. My home was in the family of Mrs. G. Williams, almost opposite where Mr. Anderson lived. So I would run in and see him.

On May third I went in the morning. He was all alone. Mrs. Williams sent him some breakfast by me. At night a little native boy was left to look after him, and that was all that stayed with him at night. Late in the afternoon he had a chill. He wrapped himself up in a blanket as best he could, and prayed and asked God to show him clearly that he was fully His, and help him to give himself unreservedly to Him. He had longed to die and go to His home in Heaven, as his wife had gone, he did not want to stay; but for fear he might have too much of his own will in the matter, he asked the Lord to help him resign himself completely to Him. After he had prayed, he had turned over, and was meditating, and this hymn came into his mind:

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan's fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie."

He said as he went on, the Lord Jesus began to manifest Himself to him, and fill his soul. Wave after wave went over him. And when he got to the verse:

"Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood,
Stand dressed in living green;
So, to the Jews, old Canaan stood,
While Jordan rolled between,"
the Holy Ghost came to him in such power that he cried out so loud that the people in the street heard him and went in. I went in, and said to him, "Anderson, what's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing's the matter. My Jesus has just passed by, and has left such a blessing. Oh, such a blessing!"

"Do you want anything?"

"Oh, no," he said. "Sister Smith, I don't want anything. Jesus is here. O, glory to His name."

"Amen. Praise the Lord;" I said, and left him, rejoicing in the very joy of Heaven.

I went to see him every day. He was always calm, and cheerful, and trustful. I gave him Wood's book, "Purity and Maturity." He read it through twice. His heart drank it all in. I believe the baptism that the Lord gave him was the full sanctifying baptism of the Holy Ghost.

On Sabbath morning, May 6th, Brother Rush preached at the Methodist Church. It was Communion Sunday. At the close of the service we took the communion over to Brother Anderson. I am glad to say we were able to celebrate this communion with unfermented wine. It was a time of great blessing; his first and last communion on earth. But, oh, how soon he renewed it with Him in the Kingdom.

Tuesday, May 15th. I left Edina this morning for Beulah. I shall always regret it; for I think, just then, I got out of the Lord's leading, and went myself, rather than wait for pure light from God. May God forgive me.

Miss Scott, the white Episcopal missionary, had been down to Edina, and had given me a very pressing invitation to come to Beulah at this time. But, oh, didn't I see my mistake afterwards? I thought it was all real. But, oh, how many things one has to find out by personal experience that they never could find out otherwise.

On Saturday, the 13th, a Mr. Lloyd came down the river, went to see Mr. Anderson, and told him he could cure his rheumatism; and though he was in so weak a condition, he had no friend to say, "You had better not go," and he went; it was in the rainy season, and, being uncomfortable and poorly clad, he got very wet, and cold struck in; and, instead of Mr. Lloyd's taking him into his house, and putting him in a comfortable bed, he was put in a hammock, and swung in an open kitchen, until two o'clock Monday morning, when they took him into the house, and at seven o'clock, when Mr. Lloyd went to look at him, he found him dead!

They said that all day Sunday they found him very happy, and that he spoke much of going home to God. And now the time had come, and the hard struggle of life was over. Thoma Anderson was not. For God had taken him.

"Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast;
There by His love o'ershaded,
Sweetly his soul finds rest."