Chapter III
Uring all this time at Millville, Frank was surrounded with very precious religious influences, both from the circle of friends who visited us, and from the natural flow of happy Christian life and conversation which was the atmosphere of our household. It was an inestimable blessing to him, that the truth set before him was the pure gospel of Jesus Christ, unmixed with the commandments or traditions of men. It had been the privilege of his parents, after many years of seeking, to be brought out clearly into the full light of the gospel of grace; and from the moment when our boy had started to walk in the heavenly pathway, at the age of four years, we had endeavored carefully to guard him from the many errors that so often obscure the truth as it is in Jesus.
Frank was taught that the Lord Jesus Christ was the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the woild, and that in His atoning death on the cross He did bear our sins in His own body, and did take upon Himself the stripes that were our due. He was taught that by means of this sin-bearing, God had reconciled I the world unto Himself, and that He no longer imputed their trespasses unto them; and he understood the gospel to be a message of glad tidings to sinners, telling them the wondrous fact that their iniquities had been taken off of them, and laid upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and that God was reconciled to them by the death of his Son. Thus understanding the gospel, it was easy for Frank to see, that the only thing left for him to do in the matter was to believe this good news, and through believing to find eternal life. He was taught that his own part in the work of salvation was simply to believe, and that then the blessed Holy Spirit would never fail to do His accompanying work of creating within him a new heart and a right spirit. “He that believeth hath everlasting life,” the believing only being our part, the giving of eternal life being the work of God, always accompanying our believing. Thus the plan of salvation was not hidden from Frank by any system of works. He was taught that good works must follow, and not precede, the new birth; that they were the results of this new birth, and not the cause of it. And he learned thoroughly the blessed truth, that the Christian life ought to begin with the knowledge of the forgiveness of sins, instead of this knowledge being attained only at the end of a long course of faithful obedience and service.
It was a happy faith that our boy was taught, and the results were to be seen in a life, even then almost blameless, and a confiding trust in His Saviour that shed a brightness over all his pursuits and pleasures.
Such was Frank, during our life at Millville. But after all, his religion was not an active religion. It made him good, and obedient, and dependable, but it did not make him zealous in the Lord’s work, nor enable him to bear any open or public testimony to his Master. He was naturally exceedingly reserved, and it seemed as if it was almost an impossibility for him to open his mouth to confess the Lord Jesus before men. We felt that more was needed before he would be the earnest working Christian we longed to see him, but the way to supply this need we could not yet see. God, however, had Plis messengers all ready, who were to bring to our house the glad tidings of a sufficiency to be found in the Lord Jesus, not only for our future salvation, but for our utmost present needs as well. They were to supply the missing link in our knowledge of the gospel. We had, as I have shown, learned thoroughly the blessed truth of justification by faith, and rejoiced in it with great joy. But here we had stopped. The equally blessed twin truth of sanctification by faith had not yet been revealed to us. And we had long been conscious that for ourselves, as well as for Frank, there was a need of far more spiritual power than we yet possessed, and for a secret of victory over temptation, that would enable us always to triumph, where as yet we suffered many and sorrowful defeats.
And at last the time came. In the fall of the year 1866, there came as Tutor to Frank, a young Baptist theological student. He had not been long in our house, before we discovered that he had a secret of continual victory and abiding rest of which we were ignorant. After watching him for many months, continually impressed with the wonderful purity and devotedness of his life, we began to ask him about it. And he told us that his simple secret was faith.
He trusted, and Jesus delivered. He laid the care of his life, moment by moment, on the Lord, and the Lord took it, and made his life moment by moment what He would have it to be. It was a wonderful revelation. At the same time, some of the workmen in our factory, having also come into the experience of this life of faith, began to come to our house to talk about it; and we all attended, Frank and all, a little evening meeting, held for the consideration and promotion of this truth. The result was at last, that Frank’s father and myself were brought out into a clear knowledge of the truth of sanctification by faith, and realized in the wondrous peace, and victory, and liberty of this new life, that we had known before only half the gospel. Our dear boy also was thoroughly aroused, and began then dimly to understand the truth which a year or two later was to be so beautifully developed in his experience, and was to make him so early ripe for his heavenly home.
The following letter, written to this Tutor, in the spring of 1868, will show the work of the Spirit in his heart, and his felt and acknowledged needs.
“MiLLViLLE, N. J., March ist, 1868.
“Dear Mr. F.:
“I promised I would write to you, a good while ago, but I have never kept my promise, so I will do so now. Last evening we went to the Methodist holiness experience meeting, where almost everybody spoke. I felt led to speak, but Satan said, ‘Nobody wants to hear you; you had better keep your seat. Just think how awful it would be for you
/Etat.13.j THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. 39
to Stand up and face everybody there; you would feel terribly.* And he conquered. But, Mr. F., I want you to pray for me, that I may be able to take up the cross for my dear Saviour, who has done so much forme. Mr. F., we have a dear Saviour; I am sure I don’t half appreciate what He has done for me, but I am doing so more and more.
‘’Mr. McAfee and I have cleaned out the boat-house, and covered the bottom with sand; we have dug out the channel to the river, and put up a fence on one side. Since the snow we have been coasting down the hill to the boat-house.
“Last Saturday evening, that is a week from yesterday, after the holiness meeting, which was a very nice one, when I was in bed, I thought somehow this way — If these Methodists have such a blessing, why should not 1? Why, no reason at all. So I just prayed that I might have the peace of God shed abroad in my heart; and I had it, and it made me so happy! And oh, Mr. F., I want you to pray that I may be all the time growing in grace.
“We are all well, as I hope you are. Little Bay told us this morning she was never going to marry 1
“Good-bye, from your loving brother in the Lord,
“F. W. Smith.”
The blessed Spirit had begun thus early to open our dear boy’s eyes to the wonderful privileges of the higher Christian life; but it was not until two years later, in the spring of 1870, that his soul was brought into the full experience of it.
Among his old papers, we have come across a few leaves of a journal kept about this time, which contains the following entries:
“FiRST-MO. 1 8th, 1868.
‘’I am a boy, a little over thirteen years of age, with a kind, loving father and mother. But better than this, I have a much kinder and much more loving Heavenly Father, who gave His only-begotten Son to die for me, and save me from eternal destruction. I became a Christian somewhat over nine years ago, but I have been a very naughty one ever since. I have disobeyed my earthly parents, but far worse, I have disobeyed my Heavenly Father, But, thank God, I have come out of that reign of sin, by believing that He has not only forgiven me my sins, but also destroyed the body of sin in me. So long as I believe this, I am happy; but the moment I stop clinging to Him, I am overwhelmed with sin, and am miserable until I again return.
“My lot is indeed a happy one. I have a dear, kind, loving father, who would do anything almost to please me; a dear, kind, loving mother, who sympathizes with me in all my joys and sorrows, and who advises me in all my perplexities; a sweet sister Mary, four years old, whom I love with all my heart, and who returns my love again; a baby sister Alice, six months old; a little brother Logan, two years old, and an adopted sister, who is about my own age.”
“FiRST-MO, 19th. “This afternoon I went skating with my tutor. and learned how to cut a circle backwards for the first i¥,tat. 13.] THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. 4I
time. In the evening heard Mr. Coleman preach a splendid sermon on sanctification, from Matt. i. 21.”
“FiRST-MO. 24th.
^’ Warm again; skating soft. Began Irving’ s Life of Washington to-day, rather reluctantly, but at father’s request, and found it very interesting indeed.”
“FiRST-Mo. 25th.
“Cold again, and splendid skating. I can roll forwards, cut a circle backwards and forwards, spread the eagle, skate backwards and forwards, — and tumble down!”
“FiRST-MO. 26th.
“To-day is First-day. I used to think it a great bore for First-day to come, but now I enjoy it, though not as much as I ought to. Sorted father’s tracts for him.”
“Second-mo, 6th. “No skating to-day, but we took a splendid sail this afternoon. It was terrible hard rowing back. Took a fine sleigh-ride this evening by moonlight. (Young ladies were wanted to complete the fun.)”
“Second-mo. 20th.
“Had a splendid sail this afternoon, rowing down the river and sailing back. This morning three men were converted in our factory; and this evening another one was brought to know Christ as his Redeemer. Went to a Methodist Experience meeting, /the best I have ever been to.”
Thus his life passed happily along, both inwardly and outwardly, while many circumstances were conspiring in the Providence of God to form his chai acter, and give him the perfect dependableness which was afterwards so remarkable in him.
We had very strong convictions as to the importance of a late education, as giving time for the solid development of the mental powers, and avoiding the great danger of any overstrain of mind and body. We concluded, therefore, in the fall of 1868, to intermit a year of study, and to let him go into the counting-room of the firm in Philadelphia, under the care of his uncle, James Whitall, for the winter. It was a great trial to let him go away from home, and seemed like somewhat of an experiment to send a petted home boy, who had hardly done anything but play all his life-long, into a counting-room with trained clerks, where steady work would be expected from him. But we believed the discipline would be invaluable to him; and we had confidence in our boy. We sent him away with many prayers, and with a confiding trust that the Lord, to whose care we committed him, would guard him from every danger. He made his home at his dear grandpa Smith’s, in Germantown, and in the tender love and care of his grandpa and grandma, and his darling ‘’aunty Lill,” he was made as happy almost as if he had been at home. A very tender tie existed between Frank and this aunt. From his earliest babyhood she had been delighted to have him much with her; and her self-sacrificing love was repaid with an affection both filia’; and brotherly. I always felt happy about him when he was under her care, knowing that every need of his heart, and mind, and body also, would all be most lovingly and judiciously provided for.
Under this happy guardianship, Frank passed the winter, more than fulfilling all our expectations, and even our hopes, in regard to his counting-house duties. From every one in any way connected with the business, there came at the time, and has come since, one unvarying testimony as to his. uniform faithfulness in the discharge of his duties, and his lovely, gentlemanly deportment to all around him. To our hearts it was sweetest music, to hear such praises of our absent boy.
In the few leaves left of his Diary, we find the following reference to this change:
“September 7th, 1868.” To-day I began my work at the store in Philadelphia, away from home, and almost all religious influences. Oh! how I pray that I may be kept ever near to my precious Jesus. In the evening I went to Germantown, and received a hearty welcome at Ivy Lodge, and a real nice room all to myself.
Again, under date of First-mo. 23d, 1869, he wrote:
‘’I do not often write anything connected in this book, but every now and then I like to jot down what interests me most. At present it is that our whole family is to move up to Philadelphia to live. On Christmas I was home and went deer-hunting, but shot nothing.
“During the last week I have been attending leetures on Geology. Very interesting.
‘* As the days move on, I am afraid I am not progressing much in the kingdom of God. I pray constantly, and yet I cannot put my full trust in Christ. I do not know why, though. It is not because He would betray my trust; oh, no! for I know He could not do that. I do trust Him in some measure, but I have not the blessing of a clean conscience. So far as I do trust Him though. He does deliver me.”
He came home every week during the winter, so that we did not receive many letters from him, and can only find one that has been preserved. In this he says:
^’ Dearest Mother:
“I would have written before, but have not a minute’s spare time in the day, and have been engaged every evening.
‘■’■ I think I am getting to be of more use in the store, for I am kept pretty busy now. I am praying that I may grow in grace unto the perfect man, and I know you are praying for me.
*’ Uncle James says if Whitall goes to Millville this week, I can go down on Fifth-day, and stay over until Second-day, and then we can go deer-hunting. Ask father to tell Uriah to arrange the hunt
‘’It is getting late, so must close, with lots of love to all the young ones, their names being too numerous to mention.
‘* I am very lovingly, my dear father and mother your ever dutiful son, Frank.”