How perfectly empty and unsatisfying it all looked to her now, with that glorious city in full view, and the shining ones gathered about their King; their hallelujahs rising in grand chorus to “Him who loved them and washed them in his blood.” In deep distress she begged to be allowed to go in where the Saviour was. Then the angel lifted another veil.
There were the dark places of the earth spread out before her; millions upon millions of human beings bowing before idols, little children cast into cruel flames, and women, sad, wretched women, a whole world full of them; besides those, there were the poor, degraded, ignorant ones of her own city.
“Did you ever read in your Bible, said the angel, ’Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to Me?’”
Deep horror seized upon her, for memory brought before her, as in letters of fire, that other word in her own Bible—that awful word, “depart.”
Mrs. Williams needed no Daniel to interpret her dream. Unlike the one of the King of Babylon it brought her in brokenness of spirit to the feet of her Saviour; and he who said, “A new heart will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you,” was faithful to his promise.
The woman, who left her room after hours of heart-searching and confession before God, came out of that room with “the new spirit”—a consecrated soul, henceforth to be obedient to the Master’s slightest wish. The whole aim of her life was changed, her pursuits, her style of living. She found, too, ample time to do the Lord’s work, and to “look well to the ways of her household,” and the Lord gave her much service for him, and the work was very sweet.
Does he not wait to give to any of us who have been half-hearted laggard Christians, this “new spirit,” this anointing whenever we shall give our whole hearts to him. Then shall it be “joy, nor duty,” then we shall say, My tongue, dear Lord, to speak for Thee, my hands to minister to Thee, my feet to run Thine errands.
The ladies of Thorndale met one afternoon in early autumn in Mrs. Lee’s parlour for an important purpose. There was a previous understanding that the meeting was for all who felt interested in discussing plans for their own mental improvement during the coming winter. The chairman said: “Now, ladies, speak out your minds on this subject with freedom and promptness.”
Mrs. Peterson spoke first—she always did—“For my part I wish we could study or read something or other that would give us something to talk about when we meet in sewing society and other places. I’m tired going to sewing society and sitting perfectly mum by the side of my next neighbour, because I don’t know what under the sun to say. After we have done up the weather and house cleaning and pickling and canning, and said what a sight of work it is, and asked whether the children took the measles and whooping-cough, and so on, I’m clear run out, for I won’t talk about my neighbours, and I don’t keep any help; I’ve noticed ‘hired girls’ is a subject that doesn’t seem to run out very soon.”