For the Salvation of Souls: Part First

FOR THE SALVATION OF SOULS. A STORY IN TWO PARTS.

BY NEPHI ANDERSON, AUTHOR OF "ADDED UPON," "a YOUNG FOLKS' HISTORY OF THE CHURCH," ETC.

Part First.

And this is the gospel, the glad tidings which the voice out of heaven bore record unto us, That he came into the world, even Jesus, to be crucified for the world, and to cleanse it from all unrighteousness; That through him all might be saved whom the Father hath put into his power and made by him. Who glorifies the Father, and saves all the works of his hands, except those sons of perdition who deny the Son after the Father has revealed him; Wherefore, he saves all except them. (Doc. and Gov., See. 33.)

Margaret awoke as the first gray light of the east crept through the little window and cast its dim reflection on the wall.

It was early, and the city was yet asleep. Presently as she lay and listened, she heard the rattle of a solitary wagon on the pavement in the street below. Then it was still for a few moments and the light on the wall increased perceptibly. Another vehicle echoed through the streets until it was lost in the distance. Then the rattle gradually increased. The heavy tread of horses became more frequent. Street cars whizzed past; and now she could not distinguish each particular noise as noises increased in number and kind and blended into one vast, deep roar of an awakening city.

330 IMPROVEMENT ERA.

Margaret was in no hurry to get up. She lay and watched the opposite wall growing lighter as a ray of sunlight crept through the murky air and fell bedimmed glory on the with its

frameless chromo fastened over the stove-pipe hole. The picture was a country scene, and everything in it was strangely green. Margaret wondered if there ever was a place like that. The roar and rattle of the city were now in full swing for the day! Still the girl did not get up. The big eyes stared around the dingy room as if the miserable objects in it were things of beauty. The pale face looked the more pitiable in the absence of tears. If she could have cried— but no, that source of relief

was seemingly gone. Footsteps now sounded in the hall, and, the door was forcibly tapped. "Come, Miss Lee, come down and get a cup of coffee before you go." "All right, thank you." Then Margaret got up and dressed; but she took her time about it, and it was fully half an hour before she presented herself in the dining room below. A cup of black coffee stood on the table and a slice of bread lay on the plate beside it. The coffee might have been warm when placed there, but was now cold. No one was in, so Margaret it

drew up a chair to the table, ate the bread and sipped a little of the black liquid. A woman then came in. "I'm sorry for you. Miss Lee, but I have my bread and butter to look out for, too. Hope you'll find

something today." "May I leave my trunk with you until I can take it away?" asked the girl.

"Well, yes; but I'll not be responsible for it, you know." Then Margaret Lee passed out into the life and movement of the city. The sun was well on its way towards the noon mark, yet the air was cold. The wind came in gusts from the direction of the river and there was a feeling of snow in the air. The girl shivered and drew her jacket closer. She was soon into a busy street where the hurrying mass of humanity passed and repassed her. The most lonesome place in the world may be

FOR THE SALVATION OF SOULS. 331

in the midst of a million people. If any person looked at Margaret Lee that day with a glance of recognition she did not know it. The fact that the face was peculiarly striking in color, and the eyes were big and sunken was not enough to draw pity. Colorless faces and sunken eyes were commonplaces to those people;

and they had enough misery of their own to brood over. Margaret walked aimlessly up one street and down another. She made no attempt to get work. She asked no person for employment. She had done this for six days now, and as this was the seventh, it would be a day of rest —rest at least from the hopeless misery of looking for something to do. That the noon hour passed without any dinner did not seem to worry the girl. She may have been used to fast-days. All the afternoon she walked in a dazed, helpless way. Then a cold fog settled down over the city and the electric lights began to gleam on the streets and in the stores. Margaret was passing the little triangular park on the seats of which she had rested many times. Now she made her way to a seat, more as a matter of habit than that she felt the utter weariness of her body. The ceaseless roar of the city still surged around her. Her limbs ached and the cold began to benumb. She must move; but where was she to go? Up and down the streets again? Yes; but what would the end be? Back to the boarding house she would not go. She had a half-determined resolution to die first. Presently she saw lights spring out in the church on the other side of the park; and as she sat and looked at the beautifully tinted windows, she heard the notes of an organ within, and then there were voices singing. Margaret arose with an effort. It pained her to walk now, but she would not give up just yet. She would go to church. Thank heaven, here was one feather from the wing of God's mercy, under which she might nestle for a moment and perhaps gain warmth and strength enough to go on a little longer. There were not many people in the church, so she did not have to disturb the fashionably dressed worshipers for a seat. She sat down near the door. It was warm and comfortable, and Margaret would have liked to rest her head against the highbacked chair and sleep, but she knew that was not allowed.

332 IMPROVEMENT ERA.

There were singing and praying and more singing. The girl was too tired to pay much attention. Then the pastor stepped onto the platform and began to talk. He was a pleasant-looking man and his words came in rounded sentences and well-chosen diction. His text was something about "eternal punishment" and "unquenchable fire," but Margaret did not give much heed until towards the last. Then he talked earnestly about the need of coming to Christ, coming then, at that very moment, and not putting it off for an instant. Life is uncertain. Not one of them could tell when he or she would be called to stand before the judgment

seat of God. Think of the fate of the unconverted sinner! Then the speaker touched a little on hell-fire and the horrors of the; damned.

"There is a time, we know not when, A place, we know not where, That marks the destiny of man To glory or despair.

"There is a line, by us unseen, That crosses every path The hidden boundary between God's mercy and his wrath."

"When the door of adamant and bronze has been shut," con-^ tinned the speaker, "and the angel has turned the key in the lock and hung it to the girdle of God, what escape is possible? Time cannot rust the gates of hell; neither can it silver the locks of God, and I will escape from my prison only when some fleet angel can find the birthplace or the grave of God." Margaret Lee shivered. There is the cold that creeps into the body, stiffens the joints^ and benumbs the nerves — that can be overcome; but the coldness that falls like a withering frost on the sensitive soul —what can dispel that but fire sent down from the everlasting furnace of God's love? Margaret went out again into the night. She walked painfully on and on. She left the blazing streets and went through a darker part of the city until she came to the river. She walked out on the bridge, leaned over the railing, and looked into the dark.

FOR THE SALVATION OF SOULS. 333

water below. It would be but a short struggle, a moment of agony, and then there would be everlasting peace, rest, oblivion The figure of a man came from the shadows into the light on the bridge. He stopped opposite Margaret, came up to her and peered into the face of the crouching figure. There he saw agonywritten, and it touched him to the heart. "My dear woman, you are suffering. Can I do anything to help you?" She had been approached before by men at night, but this voice was altogether different. There was a genuine ring in it

which reassured her; but still she did not answer. "I would like to help you, What can I do?" continued the man. "Nothing," she managed to say; "Nothing. No one can help me now. am going to die." I

The man set a grip he was carrying on the bridge and came closer to the girl. "You must not talk like that. All this world is God's. He still lives and can bless you." "God is dead," said the girl in a hoarse whisper. "The preacher just said something about the grave of God. God is

dead, and some cruel, cruel monster controls the worlds and shuts up people in bottomless pits where they burn forever and ever. When God was alive, things were different, because God is love. My mother told me so when I was little — but that's a long time ago." "Poor wandering soul," cried the man. " 'Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have I give thee.' " Then he gently placed his hand on her head and blessed her. A warm glow entered her heart. It was a spark from the eternal fires of God, brought to her by one of his servants. She arose to her feet and took his hands. "Who are you?" she asked. "I am a servant of Jesus Christ, a minister of his gospel, a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints." "God bless you, God bless you," she cried, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. Elder Harrison Ware hesitated what to do next. Then he

334 IMPROVEMENT ERA.

did something he had not yet done in his missionary experience. Picking up his grip, he slipped his hand into the girl's arm and led her away. "Come, take a little walk with me," he said; and she unresistingly went back with him across the bridge into the city. He led her through an unfrequented street, at the end of which they again reached the river. He talked to her cheerfully on the way. She did not answer, and the Elder soon found that she was clinging heavily to his arm. "You are not well," he said to her; and we must find someone to take care of you for the night. Can you keep up for about a block farther?" "I will try." He took her into one of the poorer houses which in that part of the city faced the river. Good Brother and Sister Redden welcomed him and his strange charge and at once set to work to minister to the girl. They were poor in this world's wealth, but they had a goodly portion of the riches which God pours into the hearts of those who accept the gospel of Jesus Christ; and they were willing to share their wealth with any needy brother or sister. "Keep her, and make her as comfortable as you can for the night," said Elder Ware. "I will go to Brother Jones and come back to see you all tomorrow." The next day Margaret Lee felt quite strong again, but Sister Redden would not hear of her leaving them that day. They had a long talk together by the kitchen fire, and in the afternoon Elder Ware joined them. It was one of Margaret Lee's happiest days, a bright sunshiny spot among much dreary darkness. Margaret found work again and boarded with the Reddens. The color came back to her face, and the strength to her limbs, while her blue eyes beamed with gladness from the newly found light which had arisen in her soul. Some time after, Margaret went down into the river whose waters flowed under the bridge, and was baptized in the liquid element. She came forth a new creature in Christ with sins remitted according to the promise. Her heart was all aglow because the love of God permeated her whole being. No one entered the new life more fervently or with more thankfulness than did Mar-

garet Lee.