Acts of Special Providence in Missionary Experience: Promptings of the Still, Small Voice

ACTS OF SPECIAL PROVIDENCE IN MISSIONARY EXPERIENCE.

PROMPTINGS OF THE "STILL SMALL VOICE.

BY FRED W. CROCKETT.

Evansville is a considerable city, situated in the southwestern part of the State of Indiana. It stretches along the banks of the muddy Ohio for a distance,probably,of two miles. Near the southern end of this "stretch," on the immediate bank of the river, stands a quaint, odd-looking homestead that at one time, not many months ago in fact, was frequently visited by two Mormon Elders, the writer being one of the party. Within the walls of this time-worn structure lived a widow and her two sons, by the name of Williams. Sister Williams had heard the Gospel, believed it and obeyed it; but, like agood many others, she was surrounded by an element whose chief delight it was to ridicule and otherwise molest and abuse the true disciples of Christ. Especially was this the case whenever the Elders came to spend the evening at her home, although it was an occasion for singing praises to God and thanking Him for His goodness. Many threats had been made by the neighbors to the effect that the "preachers" would be shot, thrown into the river, and a dozen other modes of severing the vital cord had found expression from their lips. To these threats, however, the Elders paid but little if any attention, knowing that the Lord would shield them

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while in the course of duty, and ascribed the threats more to a "bluffing" spirit than to any real determination to carry them into effect.

It was the 22nd day of July, 1898. The sun had gone down, when two Elders, Brother L and myself, walked along the line of the enemy, or better, perhaps, our misinformed friends, and approached the house of our sister. Many people were sitting on their porches enjoying the freshness of the evening air, and either frowned or smiled sarcastically as we passed along. Upon reaching the gate we paused for a moment and looked around. A few steps to the west flowed the broad river, while across the road to the south was a deserted mill, abound which were large piles of weather-worn lumber, all uniting, as we thought, to make at least a half-desolate scene. We found our sister and family well and rejoicing in the faith of which she had so lately been the recipient. Several hymns were sung and different Gospel subjects were freely discussed during the evening. We all felt happy, and in this mood we knelt and offered thanks to God for His manifold blessings. With no thought but of security and happiness we said "Good night." But no sooner had the door closed than the Spirit whispered in my ear, "Something is wrong. Turn the corner and go north along the bank of the river instead of east, the way you came." I at once revealed this to my companion, who was a little in advance of me. He, mistaking the meaning of my words, turned and started east, the way we came. With a feeling of reluctance I quickened my step and was soon at his side; and, in direct opposition to the promptings of the Spirit, proceeded with him in an easterly course. It must be remembered all this happened in just a few moments. As I said, we continued going east; but the Spirit, still desiring to shield us again, whispered to me: "Go slowly; be very careful." In obedience to this divine admonition, for such it was, our steps were taken slowly and cautiously. "Brother L ,be careful; here is a wire stretched across the walk" (my foot had struck against

it with no more force than if I had known it was there). "We must

walk around this." Well, we did; but no sooner had we done so than out rushed our enemies from behind the large pile of lumber. To say the eggs and other missiles flew copiously and wth