Exhortation to Children—Numbers Awakened

Exhortation to children — Numbers awakened — Deacon R.’s powerful prayer — Timely assistance — Persecution — New field of labor — Affecting parting — Universalist teacher — His con%”ersion.

I SHALL now return from this digression, to the school, which had but just received permission to pray. The first Sabbath after this permission was given, I endeavored to speak to the children upon the importance of securing the salvation of their souls. God was pleased to bless the feeble effort in a very powerful manner. I observed that Deacon R., a Baptist brother, was present. I had supposed that he was opposed to revivals, and especial efforts for the conversion of young children. But I was enabled, through grace, to cast aside all fear of man, and boldly to invite all the children, who had any desire to serve God and seek for the pardon of their sins, to come forward to the front seat, and kneel with others who were willing to pray for them. Twenty-one of the children immediately rose and came forward. It was a melting season. I discovered that Deacon R. was deeply affected, and was emboldened to invite him to unite with us in prayer. He kneeled, and evidently prayed as the Spirit gave him utterance.

Not long after this Miss Thompson wrote me a letter, offering to assist me in my labors. This greatly cheered me, and I felt most heartily to respond, “Come over and help us.” She soon arrived, and I was favored with her invaluable labors through the winter. During the season thirty-five members of the Sabbath school joined the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches. Soon after Miss Thompson’s departure, the persecution again revived; but it was confined chiefly to three men. One of these three was a trustee. The majority of the people were in my favor, but the minority ruled by violent proceedings.

In compliance with the advice of my friends, I determined to enter upon a new field of labor two miles distant. I however pledged myself not to leave them till they had secured another teacher. One morning, as I approached the school-house, I saw several men standing near it. One of them stepped toward me, and said, “Mrs. Gardner, we have got another teacher, and shall not need your services any longer.” I was, of course, very happy to hear it, as my other school was waiting for me. I then passed into the school-house to get my books. The children all gathered round me weeping; little Mary W. came to me, and said, “0, Mrs. Gardner, won’t you let me go with you?” I replied, “No, my dear; the school will be very large, besides you would have to walk four miles every day.” She burst into tears, and said, “Our neio teacher won’t pray for us.” “Well, my dear,” said I, “then you must pray for him.^’ Just at that moment the teacher, who had been behind the door, stepped forward. He was a fine-looking young man, very prepossessing, but a Universalist in sentiment. “Thank you, madam,” said he, “I can pray for myself.” “I am very glad to hear it,” I replied; “because, if you can pray for yourself, you will be able to pray for these dear children. It has been, and I trust ever will be, an earnest prayer of mine, that they may never have a teacher that will not pray for them.” I now left the weeping group, committing them to the hands of my heavenly Father.

The arrangement had been made for him to board in different families, as I had done.

He first went to Mrs. W.’s. During the night his mind was so disturbed that he could not sleep. He thought, at one time, that there was a voice calling him, and saying, “Seek the Lord!” He was so sure that he did hear a voice, he rose from his bed and went to Mrs. W.’s room and asked her if she had called him. She told him that she had not, and that all the family were asleep. Thinking that he had been mistaken, he again retired, but could not rest; his mind was indeed like the troubled sea. The next morning he went to the school, with a determination to go to Deacon R.’s the next night. He did so, hoping to spend a more comfortable night; but, alas! he could not sleep there. In the morning he told Mrs. R. that he had decided to give up the school, as he did not feel contented to remain. She asked him if the scholars were not diligent in their studies. “Studies!” said he, “why, they study all the time, and then their intermission is spent in singing and prayer. I have tried to get them to play ball with me, but they prefer holding their meetings in the woods; besides, what is still worse, when they look at me their countenances seem to say, * You have no religion.^”

After having eaten his dinner, he concluded to walk silently to the place where they held their meeting, and observe how they proceeded. He therefore placed himself behind a tree unobserved. He had not stood there long before he heard them praying very fervently for himself. The deep fountain of his heart was broken up. He rushed toward the school-house, and fell upon his knees in an agony of despair. The afternoon passed away; but only to hear report to heaven of sighs and groans with which his bosom heaved. As he was about to dismiss the school, one of the scholars said to him, “Mr. S., won’t you pray with us?” “I can not,” he replied, “but you may pray.” Ira, a boy of fourteen, immediately kneeled and prayed. The next morning Mr. S. called upon Ira’s twin brother to open the school with prayer, and at evening he prayed himself.

Soon after this he was hopefully converted, and connected himself with the Methodist Church. Thus God, in a very surprising manner, answered my prayer for the dear children. I had found among this people a few enlightened and pious families, to whom I had become greatly attached.