Chapter VII
Rom this time onward our dear Frank’s will was given up to the Lord. There were some variations in his life, and now and then failures in action; but in the very centre of his soul his will was from henceforth on the Lord’s side, and was never taken back again; and he proved during the remainder of his young life very fully the blessedness of a heart thus given up to the Lord, finding religion’s ways to be to him, indeed, ways of pleasantness, and all her paths, paths of peace. By this step of consecration and of faith, our boy had been brought into the place of liberty, where his soul could “dwell at ease,” and where, in the truest sense, he inherited all the good things of the earth.
On the 9th he wrote, after having given one of the Bible lessons he had sent for, in their First-day evening class:
“We have just had an exceedingly interesting Bible class. First I read the texts, telling what are the present possessions of the believer, and got each one to make a list, as thee suggested. It was very interesting; but no one would talk. So I began on go THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. [^Etat. l6.
the believers’ names. Then they got to talking, a.xd the fellows said they had never been to so interesting
a lesson up there. told me the last lesson on
the Assurance of Faith interested him very much, and he hoped I ‘d continue. So thee sees, thy lessons are doing some good. The privileges of the believer as shown in these texts has set me to thinking a great deal, and I feel more than ever that I must be a whole-hearted Christian. For, as I told Minnie in my last letter, there is no use in being half-way; either be one, or the other.
“Would it be wrong for me to study on First-day? I have so much to do, in order to enter another college; and I could study so much then. Be sure and answer this.”
My reply to this question was as follows:
“As to studying on First-day, dear Frank, I would not do it. It seems to be a Divine law somehow, that any secular business done on that day does not prosper, and it has been proved beyond question that no one can work at the same things seven days in the week straight on, without losing his health. Lawyers say that they can really accomplish more by working six days, and resting one, than they can by working seven. I think the Heavenly Father has provided that day for us to be able, with an easy conscience and an undivided heart, to read and meditate and be occupied about heavenly things.”
Frank was very anxious to get a thorough education, and in a letter, dated April 9th, he wrote:
JEta., 1 6.] THE RECl RD OF A HAPPY LIFE. g
‘’I have a great passion and desire for the best education the country affords. I am exceedingly fond of literature, of classics, and of mathematics. If I could have my choice in life, and if I had the ability, nothing could give me greater pleasure than to be a professor, that I might study. I would a thousand times rather read a good piece of literature than a novel, — a thousand times; and for a little while a day I would rather translate Virgil than do either. But, laying all prospect of being a professor aside as impracticable, I do want a good thorough education. And now about the college. I may as
well blurt it out. I want to go to. Now,
don’t tear this letter up, but think about it.”
In reference to this letter, he says, in his Diary: *’ Wrote home; said I want now to go to
Said I’d like to be a professor, and said a whole lot of funny things. Wonder what mswer I’ll get.”
When the answer came, he makes another entry:
“Letter from home. Say I can’t go to, on
account of the Unitarian influences. But I can go through Princeton, and then most likely to a German university. That will suit me almost as well as.”
About this time he wrote to one of his young friends, who had lately been converted:
*’I was very glad to hear that thee had become a Christian, and I do sincerely hope that thee will be a better and more faithful one than I have ever been.
Sometimes when I think of my past life, and think what a hypocrite I. have been, — how, while to the world outside I have appeared fair enough, within, T have sinned and sinned, as I have no doubt thee has known; when I think of all this, I have wondered how I could have had any hope then of ever being saved. But I know God is rich in mercy, and I believe He has forgiven my past as for the future, He will keep me.
*’ It seemed to me that one newly converted has such a splendid chance to save himself from almost all future remorse about any hypocrisy, if he will only begin by keeping Christ between himself and temptation as a sort of shield.
“It was last fall that the Lord showed me how wicked I had been, and enabled me to trust Him more fully for the future.
“I suppose thee has heard of our little daily meeting here. There are ten or eleven of us who meet together daily for half an hour, and we have some very blessed times. The Lord is often with us.
“In reference to my past sad experience, I believe it was all, or a great part, brought on by my refusal to confess in public that I was on the Lord’s side years ago, when I was at Millville. It was a great drawback to me.”
On the loth of April he writes in his Diary:
“Only day after to-morrow I ’11 go home for the golden wedding at * Ivy Lodge.’ Hurrah!”
This was the golden wedding of Frank’s grandpa and grandma Smith, and was celebrated by a large family gathering in their hospitable home in Shoemakers’ Lane, Germantown. It was an occasion of great interest, and dear Frank, as the oldest grandchild and one dearly beloved, was one of the important parties to the celebration.
He writes in his Diary concerning it:
“April 12, 1 87 1. The golden-wedding day! Had a grand time at the wedding. Waited on N. It was jolly. At last we got together alone, and had a first-rate private talk about our experiences. She told me all about herself, and I about myself, religiously. It was very interesting.”
A short time after, he wrote to his beloved aunt, E. P. S.:
*’ Darling Aunty:
*’ Obediently to my promise, I sit down to write to thee. I feel very hot and very lazy, and out of six letters I wanted to write to-day, this one is the third and the last. The other two were to father and mother; so thee sees that next to them you all rank very high in my affections, for I can tell thee I only write to the people I love best. Really I have come to consider ‘Ivy Lodge’ as a sort of second home to me, where I always find a welcome, and always find people I love dearly. I ‘m not of a very expressive nature, but you must remember that ’ still waters run deep.’ ....
‘’And now for my experience. It is almost too deep to tell. A will entirely surrendered; a faith given me by Christ; a constant rest and peace in
Him, comprises nearly all of it. Only so blessed, so entirely different from anything I ever experienced before, that it seems like a separate life from the old one. If Christians only could realize the perfect rest there is in Christ, they would be compelled to leave their trying to be good all in His hands.
‘* My feelings, too, are somewhat changed. I used to dislike some of the fellows so much, as thee knows, and now I fairly love them. I used to be considerably vexed at one or two in our little meeting, who never spoke, because I thought they were doing us harm in keeping us back. But now the Lord has taken all that away, and I feel just as full of love, and just as united in spirit to them, as if they had spoken.
‘’But I am still very weak; and have to remind myself continually that I am not living this life myself, that I have not changed myself; but that Christ is living in me, and that Christ has changed me. I feel just like a monument of what Christ can do for an unwilling disciple.
“But I have talked too much about myself. We have very blessed meetings now; we have them in the morning before breakfast, and to me they are very sweet. M. and C. H. seem both to have entered into this life of rest too. Isn’t it a cause for thankfulness?
‘’But, dear auntie, it is bedtime. Give ever so much love to grandpa and grandma, and remember that when I say I love thee, I mean it. “Affectionately, thy ‘nevvy,’
“F. W. Smith.”
JEta.L l6.] THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. 95
On April 25th, he wrote in his Diary: “I feel so joyful in the Lord to-day. It is continually easier for me to walk in Him.”
And a few days later:
‘’I have surrendered myself wholly to Christ, and He keeps me wonderfully. I really believe He does guide me. I hope I do just as He tells me up in our meetings. I do not want to do anything in my own strength, but only His will.”
On April 30th, he wrote to me:
‘’Darling Mother:
*’ C. H. and I walked down to Hestonville yesterday, to see Uncle Horry and Aunt Maggie. We had a splendid walk; told each other our experiences and difficulties, our prospects in life, and what we had to give up, and so on. Our experiences are very much the same, an entire surrender to Christ, a constant watch over ourselves to see that we take nothing back from the consecration; and a constant belief that God will keep us abiding in Him. We have our dark seasons, when our trials are very great, when it seems almost impossible to keep trusting Christ; but those I spend in constant prayer, and I am helped through them. I am. really wonderfully guided by the Holy Spirit, because I have His promise that He will guide me, and I believe it. I never have any difficulty in knowing His will; and although I do not follow it as I ought to, yet each day it gets easier. I had no idea of the rest of this life. Every time I feel troubled about myself, I go
right to the Lord, and He removes it.
pf q6 the record of a happy life. [/Etat. 1 6.
The C. H. spoken of in this letter was Frank’s cousin and dearest friend. Their intimacy continued unchanged until our dear boy was taken away, and was always a joy and a strength to them both. Drawn together by the sweet bond of Christian fellowship, they became far more to each other than merely common friends.
It has been a great loss to us that most of the letters written by our boy to this dearly loved friend have been destroyed, C. H. having made a change of residence, and having dreamed of nothing but a lifelong intimacy between them. But their intercourse was always on the basis of Christian faith and experience, which, while drawing them continually nearer to each other, drew them nearer to Christ also. Often in his Pocket-diary there are such entries as this: “Talked with Charlie until two o’clock last night.” ‘’Charlie sick; took care of him Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Talked till about one or two.” “Had a jolly walk and talk with C. H.”
And Charlie, in writing to us since Frank’s death, says:
“I cannot express to you better howl feel his loss, than to tell you that he was the only person whio filled the place of a twin brother to me; for although our ages differed a year or two, we were both baptized into the fulness of the Gospel at the same time, and we did truly enjoy a fellowship in Christ.
“This was the secret of our love for each other; and while we enjoyed the pleasures of this life together, whenever we settled down to a good long talk, we never, as far as I can remember, forgot that we were in His hands.”
On the 6th of May, 1871, we had our last “Hestonville party,” at Uncle Horry’s; and Frank thus notices it in his Diary:
“We did have just a jolly time at Hestonville to-day. Formed into a society, and decided to write a history. Agreed each one of us to write once a year to the Corresponding Secretary; and to have a grand reunion on the Fourth of July, 1876. Jolly fun. This is the last Hestonville. I could almost cry.”
And on the 7th he wrote home to me concerning it:
“I think we had an elegant time yesterday. That * Society ’ was a perfect success. All our plans, which I suppose the girls have told thee, exactly suit n.^. Will thee have time to compile our history? I guess thee will. Thee must. What does thee think about our reunion in 1876? Won’t it be fun? And the idea of having a corresponding secretary, to keep accounts of our doings, is just grand. I would not mind having Charlie’s place one bit myself.”
After a little more about this, and planning for a picnic in the summer, dear Frank goes on, in the same letter, to what he calls his “weekly report” of his experience. A precious report, that it was our happy privilege to receive from our boy every few days, during all the rest of his life. He writes:
“As for my weekly report: Charlie, I believe, is still trusting and happy. But for myself, I hardly 9 G know what to say. I do trust the Lord to keep me, and He does it, a great deal. But it seems somehow I can’t trust Him enough; I mean, that, when I arn thinking of Him, I am able to trust Him fully; but before I know it I forget Him, and then a temptation come? suddenly, and I fail. Of course. He always enables me to stop short, whatever it may be, and confess it, and then He does forgive me. But I ‘d rather be kept entirely. Is it not His way to keep us entirely? Of course, if this is only to be attained bj a gradual growth, I am willing to wait; but I thought it came at first. Besides, although I feel tolerably restful, yet I am not at all happy. Pray that my experience may become deeper.
“We had the lesson on the Passover, this evening, in the Bible class. It was very interesting to me, and did me a great deal of good in showing me how entirely dependent we are on the blood of ^^nst, — more so than on our faith, or anything else. It is a great trial to my faith to find myself in my present barren condition; but I can truly say, as I am writing to thee, that I believe in the Lord’s own good time, He will give me joy in Him. I only hope it will be soon.
“Give Mary lots of love, and tell her I ‘ve got the shrubs yet she gave me at Hestonville, and also the taste of the sweet kiss she gave me just as we were running off. Give love to all the rest of the ‘chicks.’”
From this letter it will be seen that dear Frank was experiencing the sort of reaction that often follows seasons of great joy in the Christian life, and that, not having learned fully the lesson of walking by
/Eiat. 16.] THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. gg
faith, he had become discouraged by it. In my reply I said:
“As to thy Christian experience, dear boy, I do not think thee need be at all discouraged. The life of faith is, in one sense, a growth; that is, the Mh’^ of trusting grows, until it becomes as it were a second nature, and we trust, almost as we breathe, without being definitely conscious of it. But in the beginning of this life, the usual experience is apt to be such as thee describes, rather variable and sometimes failing. But thee has learned the secret; and if thee always goes back at once, upon the discovery of thy failure, to the blood of Christ for forgiveness and cleansing, thee will find thy soul so getting into the habit of looking to the Lord Jesus and His cleansing blood, as to wander no more. I do not think a perfect and complete victory always comes just at first. It is like a child learning to walk; it may have many a tumble at first. But if it is not discouraged by its tumbles, but just jumps up and goes ahead, it will be able to walk after a while without falling. If, however, its falls discourage it, and it gives up in despair, it will never walk at all. Just go on as thee is doing, my darling boy, trusting as fully as possible; and when thee fails, at once confess thy failure to the Lord, and believe in the forgiveness and the cleansing that He has promised in I John i. 9, and all will be well.
“As for joy, dear Frank, thy joy is to be in the Lord, not in thyself. Spiritual joy is not a thing, not a lump of joy, so to speak, stored away in your heart,
ICMD THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE [^tat. 1 6.
to be looked at and rejoiced over. Our joy is all in Christ. We rejoice that we have Him for our Saviour; we rejoice in His love and in His power to save. I suffered a great deal from just this — that I looked for and expected to have joy as a thing by itself; and I never found it, and that discouraged me. But now I never think whether I have joy or not. I have Christ, and that is enough. I 2Si gladihaX I have Him, and this gladness I do believe is the true sort of Christian joy. It is surely something to be glad about, to know that we have such a Saviour and such a salvation. So, dear Frank, give up looking for joy, and just take all the comfort thee can out of the gifts the Lord has already given thee, and be glad of thy salvation, and rejoice in Christ. Does thee understand the distinction between rejoicing in thy joy and rejoicing in Christ?
‘* I expect thy present state of mind is just as the Lord would have it to be. If thee is conscious of being entirely given up to Him, it must be; because where He has his way with us, He will make us right. And yet this may not always be manifest to us. A lump of clay that is in the process of transformation to be made into a beautiful vase, has to go through many different stages; and the earlier stages may not be perhaps at all beautiful or attractive. But the Potter knows what He is about, and the lump of clay must be content to be just as He would have it, and not as it would like to be itself. Thee is that lump of clay, my darling boy, and thy only concern need be to let the Heavenly Potter have His own way with thee. He will surely then make out of thee a ‘vessel
fat. 16.] THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. lOI
unto honor, sanctified and meet for the Master’s use, and fitted to every good work.’
*’ Farewell, my own precious darling boy! How I do love thee, and what a comfort thee is to me! *’ Thy own mother, H. W. S.’
>•
In a letter to his father, in this month of May, Frank says:
*’The question of work is one that has occupied me a great deal lately. Christ has done so much for me, has spent so much love and tender compassion on me, that I can never bear to think of how little I am doing for Him. How I wish I had more faith to trust Him to guide me in this matter! My way in the College seems a good deal shut up, as I cannot very well speak to any of the upper classes, and nearly all my own class are Christians. Those who are not, I have talked to so often, that they don’t care to hear me. I hope to try, trusting in the Lord for strength, tract-distributing around the country when I am out walking. Perhaps I can do something for Him in this way. Of course, we can only do a very little towards repaying our debt of gratitude to Christ; but the mite we can do I want to do with all my heart; and I want to enter into this work in His strength, and not in my own in the least. There was a time when the very thought of becoming a preacher, even like thee, was excessively repugnant to me; but now there is nothing I should consider more joyful than to be gifted by Jesus to proclaim His gospel. It would be glorious!
“Perhaps thee never knew it, but my air-castle has always been to become a thoroughly honest and upright lawyer; to work my way up gradually until I should become a prominent Christian statesman, upholding the right. It may sound foolish to thee, but I suppose it is the same thought and ambition nearly every young fellow has; and I used to think that to give up this, and settle down into a simple preacher of the gospel, would be dreadful. But now I can see that the call, ‘Feed my sheep,’ is far higher than any earthly ambition. After all, what does fame amount to in this world? A mere thing of time, a simple bubble, when compared to the ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord,’ which lasts forever. Oh, how blessed it would be to do something for Him!”
From this letter it will be seen that Frank had begun to feel, as every soul truly at rest in the Lord must necessarily feel, a longing desire to work for his Master. Having a heart now ‘’at leisure from itself,” he was able to go out in yearning after others, and in his quiet, gentle way he tried to tell one and another the sweet story of the love of Jesus, and to win them to give themselves to Him. One of his companions, not himself a Christian, writing to us, says:
‘’ I feel it my privilege, as one who knew dear Frank well, and who watched him through the very trying ordeal of college-life, to testify to his consistent Christian walk and conversation, and to his constant endeavor, both in word and example, to work for the glory and honor of his Divine Master and the eternal welfare of his classmates. Many a time has he pleaded iEtat. 16,] THE RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. 103
earnestly with me, as a true friend should, to fix my attention on things above.
‘’I consider it far harder to make a pretence before your companions in college than anywhere else; in fact, it can’t be done. And all who knew Frank at Haverford would join with me in saying that his influence had always been for good.”
In a letter written in the early part of May, Frank thus refers to an effort he had made for one of his friends, which resulted in great blessing.
*’ To my great surprise, told me yesterday,
when I spoke to him about it, that he had not yet entered into that full rest I thought he had. So I prayed for him, and prayed that I might be guided how to speak to him. And at last he gave up his unbelief, and this morning, in our little meeting, he confessed it, and said the Lord had kept him wonderfully. A cause for praise, is it not?
> >
This young man has sent us the following account of this circumstance, and of his intercourse with our dear boy while at Haverford and afterward. He writes:
“I scarcely know where to begin in writing about dear Frank. Our acquaintance really began at Haverford, though we had known each other from childhood. Our brotherhood, at all events, began there.
“When Frank came to Haverford, he found very little religious life among the students, even those who were Christians.. Although not then in the
104 ‘^^^^ RECORD OF A HAPPY LIFE. [^tat. l6.
Higher Life, he mourned over this in himself and others, and induced his father to come out and hold a series of meetings with some of us; and memorable meetings they were in the history of our lives.
“Then we commenced holding daily prayer-meetings among ourselves, in which Frank’s voice was often heard in prayer and faithful testimony. And, looking back at that eventful winter in the light of the last few months, it seems as if we could mark his growth in grace, so rapid and manifest was it about that time.
‘’In the spring of 1871, I was called away from the College for about three weeks, by ill-health. During this time, Frank and two others, C. H. and C. S., had a wonderful meeting together, at which time, I believe, they all felt that they had entered upon the ‘Highway of Holiness.’ When I returned to the College I was struck with the change in Frank. His spirit seemed to have grown so restful, while his love for Christ and for his fellow-students was even more ardent than before. He took a warm interest in me from that time, as I seemed to have been left behind the rest of them. We were often together, and he used to try and make the way of faith plain to me; but I thought it contrary to reason, and, consequently, would not accept it.
“On one occasion, about the ist of May, we took a long walk together, and Frank compared the restful state of his heart to my own unsatisfied hungry condition, and pressed upon me the claims of the Saviour for the possession of my whole heart, — till I could stand it no longer, and proposed that we should kneel down together by the roadside, under a tree, while I gave myself up to the Lord. I shall never forget the spot, nor the joyful look with which he assented. But little was said as we returned to the College; we were both too full of our own feelings.
‘* Next morning, when we met at our little prayer-meeting, I said to him, * It bears,’ alluding to the experience of the day before. ‘Of course it does! ’ he replied, with emphasis.
*’ Soon after this, a few of us had an especial little meeting to pray for the baptism of the Holy Spirit. Dear Frank’s prayer on this occasion was very sweet; in fact, his prayers were always different from anybody else’s at Haverford. They were perfectly natural. He asked for just what he wanted; his tone was conversational, if I may so speak; it seemed as if he were really holding communion with the Lord; and the general directness and simplicity of his manner was strongly in contrast with the strained, difficult way in which so many young believers are apt to pray.
Naturally reserved and quiet, he rarely spoke at any length in our meetings, but what he said carried power with it, and especially his prayers.
“Soon after this time, about the middle of May, we two read together ‘Holiness through Faith,’ written by Frank’s father, and some of dear Frank’s comments and prayers in connection with different parts were especially beautiful.
“After Commencement I saw but little of him during the summer. He was at Newport for a few weeks, and I took one or two sails with him. He was a grand swimmer, and saved a classmate’s life once at Haverford while bathing in the Schuylkill. The student himself told me this. I never heard Frank allude to it.
*’ In the spring of 1872, I spent one night with him at 1315 Filbert’street. Before going to sleep, I recounted to him all my hindrances and troubles, and he confessed to having some of them himself, and especially to what he termed ’ deadness or want of feeling on the subject.’ (I must say that I never noticed anything of the kind in him.) He said that this was in the way of his work at Princeton; and together that night we besought the Lord for help and strength. Dear Frank’s prayer on this occasion was particularly submissive and sweet. He expressed his confidence in the Lord’s word, and that we were in the right way, and then added, ‘And we know that thou wilt give us feeling, when it is right for us to have it, and when we can bear it.’ After this we talked of the forgiveness of sins, and the fear of death, and Frank said he believed that fear had been entirely removed from him, and he was not afraid to die.
^’The next morning, in one of the early morning meetings held in his father’s parlor during the week of the Friends’ Yearly Meeting, he spoke very sweetly, testifying to the peace of a full surrender to Christ. This was the last time we ever met on earth. The next time, I trust, will be beside the river of Life, in the Heaven we so loved to talk of.”