From Darkness to Light

May be obtained from MRS. BAEYERTZ, at 26, Fore Street, London, E.C., price 1/6; per post, 1/8.

Also Book containing

Ten of Mrs. Baeyertz's Addresses,

Price 1/-; per post, 1/1

[Flyer pasted into front of the book—front cover]

Mrs. E. L. BAEYERTZ,

A Jewish Christian Lady Evangelist,

Will (D.V.) conduct a SIXTEEN DAYS' MISSION

IN THE

RINK HALL, BLACKHEATH

(Opposite S.E.R. Station), BEGINNING

SUNDAY, 10TH OCTOBER, 1897,

Sundays at 3.30 & 7 p.m. Week-Days at 3 & 7.30 p.m.

No Meetings on Saturdays.

[For Subjects of Addresses see inside pages.

[Flyer, inside]

ORDER OF SERVICES.

FROM OCTOBER 10TH TO OCTOBER 25TH.

Sundays and Week Evenings.

Sunday, October 10th, at 3.30, ``Mary, Martha and Lazarus.”

“ “ “ 7.0, “Unpardonable Sin.”

Monday, October 11th, “ 7.30, “My Conversion from Judaism.”

Tuesday, October 12th, “ 7.30, “Atonement”—from Genesis

Wednesday, October 13th, “ 7.30, Women and Girls.

Thursday, October 14th, “ 7.30, Men and Lads.

Friday, October 15th, “ 7.30, “Passover” (with table spread Modern Jewish way).

Sunday, October 17th, “ 3.30, “The Conditions of Effectual Prayer.”

“ “ “ 7.0, “The Master is come, and calleth for thee.”

Monday, October 18th, “ 7.30, “Jewish Day of Atonement.”

Tuesday, October 19th, “ 7.30, “The Lord's Coming; how to get ready for His appearance.''

Wednesday, October 20th, “ 7.30, “`Impossible to renew them again unto repentance.' Whom?”

Thursday, October 21st, “ 7.30, “Great White Throne.”

Friday, October 22nd, “ 7.30, “The Lord's Coming to the earth. Return of the Jews to Jerusalem. Ushering in of the Millenium.”

Sunday, October 24th, “ 3.30, “Perfect Heart.”

“ “ “ 7.0, “Come.”

Bible Readings

DAILY AT 3 P.M.

Monday, October 11th, ``Secret of Failure.”

Tuesday, October 12th, ``Consecration.”

Wednesday, October 13th, “Fruit-bearing.”

Thursday, October 14th, ``Seven Steps in the Blessed Life.”

Friday, October 15th, “Clean Heart.”

Monday, October 18th, “Worry.”

Tuesday, October 19th, “Christian Joy.”

Wednesday, October 20th, ``Temptation.''

Thursday, October 21st, ``Always.”

Friday, October 22nd, “Secret of Victory.”

Last Day of Mission

Monday, October 25th, at 12.0, “Five Talents or One.”

“ “ “ 3.0, “Baptism of the Holy Ghost.”

“ “ “ 7.30, “Holiness.”

A Hearty Invitation and Welcome to All.

SANKEY'S HYMNS WILL BE USED.

Collections to Defray Expenses.

[Flyer, back cover]

At the request of well-known local Christian friends

MRS. BAEYERTZ

has undertaken to conduct the SPECIAL MISSION now announced. For thirteen years she laboured in the Australian Colonies with a great blessing. Carrying with her the affectionate commendations of a large number of Clergymen and Ministers of various denominations—headed by the venerable Dr. John G. Paton, Missionary to the New Hebrides—“to the Churches of Christ, wherever in the providence of God she may be led, as a sister in every way worthy of their confidence and esteem,” she has since then conducted many Missions in the United States, Canada, and several large cities in Great Britain with the same results.

The inhabitants of Blackheath and neighbourhood are cordially invited to avail themselves of this opportunity of hearing the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ; and Christians of all denominations are asked to pray that God's abundant blessing may rest upon these Services, to the increase of spiritual life among believers, and in the conversion of many souls.

Sundays at 3.30 & 7 p.m. Week-Days at 3 & 7.30 p.m.

NO MEETINGS ON SATURDAYBRING YOUR BIBLES.

[frontispiece]

[i]

FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT.

The Life and Work of Mrs. Baeyertz.

``He that scattered Israel will gather him.”

Jer. xxxi. 10.

BY

SYDNEY WATSON,

AUTHOR OF “DISLOYAL,” “THE SACRIFICE OF CATHERINE BALLARD,” “ON ACTIVE SERVICE,” ETC., ETC.

CORK:

GUY AND CO. LTD., 70, PATRICK STREET.

1895.

[ii - blank]

[iii]

CONTENTS.

[iv - Blank]

[v]

AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

IT was in February, 1893, that I first met Mrs. Baeyertz, in Winchester, during a very gracious mission held at the Soldiers' Home in that city. Again, on her return visit for another mission we met. She was evidently intensely surprised to see me on this occasion, and said at once, “I have been asking the Lord to guide me to you, for I want you to write the story of my life and work.”

That is how I came to take up my pen for these pages. Mrs. Baeyertz supplied me with notes, press reports, and various other matters, out of which the present volume has been compiled.

There has been no attempt to colour a story which had in it all the material for very vivid depicting. I have allowed the facts of a romantic career and a marvellous work to speak for themselves. If any special effort has been used in the writing, it has been that of putting a strong check upon the pen rather than of yielding to the seductiveness of the material in hand for brighter colouring.

While frequently quoting from the various world-wide press notices of Mrs. Baeyertz's work, I have sought to avoid repetitions that would only weary, and have inserted that which seemed most likely to interest the reader, and to best introduce the subject of these pages to those to whom she is as yet a stranger.

vi

By far the most flattering comments of the press I have kept back altogether, assured that such a course was safest, wisest, most God-honouring, more in accord with the spirit of His children, Mrs. Baeyertz included.

In his own inimitable way, in a preface to one of his books, C. H. Spurgeon once wrote:—“The preface is merely a porch to the house; no one ought to be long detained in it.”

Following humbly in that great man's footsteps, the writer would not presume to keep the reader long in the porch.

Yours, in His service,

SYDNEY WATSON.

[vii]

STILLNESS.

Thy lesson art thou learning, O tried and weary soul?

His ways art thou discerning, Who works to make thee whole?

In the haven of submission art thou satisfied and still?

Art thou clinging to the Father 'neath the shadow of His will?

Now, while His arms enfold thee, think well, He loveth best;

Be still, and He shall mould thee for His heritage of rest.

The vessel must be shapen for the joys of Paradise,

The soul must have her training for the service of the skies

And if the Great Refiner, in furnaces of pain,

Would do His work more truly, count all His dealings gain,

For He, Himself, hath told thee of tribulation here;

Be still, and let Him mould thee for the changeless glory there.

From vintages of sorrow are deepest joys distilled,

And the cup outstretched for healing is oft at Marah filled;

God leads to joys through weeping, to quietness through strife,

Through yielding into conquest, through death to endless life;

Be still, He hath enrolled thee for the kingdom and the crown;

Be silent, let Him mould thee, who calleth thee His own.

Such silence is communion, such stillness is a shrine,

The “fellowship of suffering” an ordinance divine;

And the secrets of “abiding” most fully are declared

To those who with the Master Gethsemane have shared;

Then trust Him to uphold thee 'mid the shadows and the gloom;

Be still, and He shall mould thee for His presence and for home.

For resurrection stillness there is resurrection power,

And the prayer and praise of trusting may glorify each hour,

And common days are holy, and years an Eastertide,

For those who, with the Risen One, in risen life abide;

Then let His true love hold thee, keep silence at His word;

Be still and He shall mould thee! Oh rest thee in the Lord.

(From “Stillness and Service,” by the author of

“I Must Keep the Chimes Going.”)

1

FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT.

____________

CHAPTER I.—LIFE'S SPRING.

“I met a child, whose golden hair

Around her rosy face in clusters hung;

And, as she wove her king-cup chain, she sung

Her household melodies—those strains that bear

The heart back to Eden; surely ne'er

A brighter vision blest my dreams. `Whose child

Art thou,' I said, `sweet girl?' In accents mild

She answer'd, `Mother's.' When I question'd `Where

Her dwelling was?' Again she answer'd, `Home.'

`Mother' and `Home!' A blessed ignorance—

Or rather blessed knowledge! What advance

Further than this shall all the years to come,

With all their lore, effect? There are but given

Two names of higher note, `FATHER' and `HEAVEN.'”

MOUNTAINS were round about Jerusalem, so were there mountains round about the birth-place of the daughter of Judah who forms the subject of this wonderful life-story we seek here to give.

2

It was a lovely spot, one of the loveliest in all the three kingdoms. The glorious surrounding hill-tops

“Where sun and shadow linking hands,

In soundless song . . .”

seemed to lift the faces of the dwellers of that valley in mute seeking after the Divine. Looking upon the river and streamlets that

“Plunged past like shyest birds,”

might well have inspired one of England's truest interpreters of nature to sing—

“Ye wild brooks, leapt from skyey lairs,

Dance down your grand old mountain stairs

To music of primeval airs!”

It was amid such beauty as this, in a quiet old-fashioned town, that our little Jewish maiden was born on March 29, 1842.

The home into which she came in baby-feebleness was one of refinement. Her father and mother were Jews—both sprung from unblemished Hebrew stocks—with an intense attachment to their noble race and ancient creed. With all the loyal strictness of pious Jews, the parents brought up their children to fear the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and to regard the Jewish religion, with all its rites and ceremonies, as the One and only religion for all time.

Emilia (the name chosen for the babe), “green as

3

the lilies grow, tender and frail,” and in girlhood's early days needed the greatest care and attention. Of these budding days there is little of interest to recall, except an apparently unlikely prophecy that has had a remarkable fulfilment.

The little Emilia was ten years old at the time this incident occurred, and was considered quite the ugly duckling of the family. One day a lady caller upon her mother, asked if the children were at home, and if she might see them. They were at home, and, after a few titivating touches by nurse, they were despatched to the drawing-room with strict injunctions to be on their best behaviour and try to do her credit.

The interview over, and when the children had left the room, the visitor asked to see the pale, interesting little girl again.

“Oh you mean E—,” said the pleased mother. So E— was recalled. But it proved that she was not the child meant. A little further explanation on the part of the visitor revealed to the amazed mother that it was Emilia—the subject of our sketch—who was wanted.

“Ah!” said the caller, when the little one was ushered in, “this one will be the best and cleverest of them all, when she grows up, of that I feel sure.” The lady probably thought that the child would not understand, but she did, and racing back to her brothers and sisters she told them what had been said. The boys and girls regarded the whole thing

4

as a great joke, for they had long since dubbed Emilia the stupid one of the family. Certainly, in those days, Mrs. Baeyertz seemed the least likely of them all to develop any special talent, and that of a public speaker above all else, for she was timid and retiring, and very delicate.

At thirteen she left school, and, by the orders of the family doctor, was only allowed to study but very little at home. One thing that Mrs. Baeyertz considers may have considerably helped to fit her in some measure for her after career of a public speaker, was the habit in those early days of reading aloud to her mother the standard works of the time—“Macaulay's Essays,” “Shakespeare,” etc.

She was the only one of the family who did not receive a Continental education. But God had marked the little delicate child for His own—

“A wonderful fashion of teaching He hath”—

and He can fit any instrument to play its part in the great Divine harmony. Mrs. Baeyertz has often been heard to say that I Cor. i. 27, is especially applicable to her—“God hath chosen the foolish things of the world, to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world, to confound the things which are mighty.”

The years, as they sped, brought nothing of any apparent importance into her life. In a country town, to a girl in her teens, life is apt to be, or to appear,

5

very monotonous. Its quiet, even regularity is liable at times even to chafe. This is especially the case, when in the distance—how interminable do time and distance seem to the young who look longingly ahead to some such a point—one great event looms like a glittering star beckoning the waiting one on to a new and unknown life of joyous interest.

The time of her “coming out” into society was the glittering, beckoning star towards which Time, with laggard feet (as it seemed to Emilia), bore her slowly on. To the longing, mental vision of the young girl the prospect before her seemed dazzling and gay. Like most young people she “judged after the sight of her eyes . . . and after the hearing of her ears.” She could not know what the strange world—Society—was really like. She did not know that its pulse was Tumult; its blood, Fever; its flowers, Temptation; its fruit, Dead Sea apples; its friendships, a name only; its intervals, unrest; its end, death. She did not know that the butterflies of that distant world she longed for were moths that consumed; all she knew and cared for—we, none of us care, naturally, for anything more than this—was the prospect of life, mirth and gaiety. We remember hearing of a child who pleaded to be allowed to attend some questionable amusement, but was denied by her mother. “But,” said the child, “did you never go to such places when you were a child, mother?” “I did, my darling,” replied the mother, “but I have seen the folly of such

6

things.” “Well,” urged the child, “I should think you might let me go and see the folly of them too.”

Emilia yearned for the time when she should make her débût. The event arrived in due course, and was celebrated by a large ball.

The fetters of the fashionable world are of gold and are studded with gems, but they are fetters none the less. The clasp of the jewelled necklace and bracelets may have a certain music to the ear of the uninitiated girl who robes for her first ball; but when in after years the conquering Christ shall be known to her as her Redeemer, then does she look back on the jewels of the ball and know that they were part of Society's fetters.

Very happily, innocently, and enthusiastically did Emilia step out into her new life. The first ball was at once a wonderful delight and revelation to the young girl, and she plunged heartily into all the novelty and fascinations of the hour. From that night onward, for nearly ten years, she led the feverish life of a gay society girl.

Soon after the ball she went to visit a friend at B—. Here she met a gentleman who, to use the popular expression, fell in love with her, and in a very short time wrote to her parents asking permission for a recognised formal engagement.

This course of action on the part of Emilia's admirer was not at all the course usually pursued among the Jews of that period. Usually, the first

7

consideration in the matter of marriage was the amount of dowry to be settled on the lady. The Jewish suitor, therefore, wrote to the father and mentioned that he had taken a fancy to his daughter, and asked what he was prepared to settle upon her. In reply the father would write back, name the sum, and, at the same time, ask what he (the suitor) would settle upon her. In this way, with but very little reference to the girl's feelings, the matter was usually arranged.

In spite of this platonic style of arranging it, Jewish marriages are, as a rule, very happy unions. One does not hear of Jewish husbands ill-treating their wives and children as, alas! is so frequently the case with Gentile husbands.

However much of a surprise that letter of proposal for his daughter's hand may have come to Emilia's father (considering how recently she had been “brought out”), he saw no reason for refusal, so accordingly gave his consent.

One of the hard and fast rules which he had made in reference to the marriages of his daughters, was, that there should be no union with any man who had not first fully insured his life. It was well in this case, as the sequel will prove, that he had made such a rule.

Emilia and her lover were, however, formally engaged, and “sat for joy,” as it was termed. This “sitting for joy” is an old Jewish custom, which every

8

Gentile maiden may feel glad she has not to conform to, for it must be excruciatingly painful to the bride-elect.

The day appointed for Emilia's “sitting for joy” was a certain Saturday. How long and tedious seemed the time of the usual Sabbath-day service in the synagogue! When at last it was over, she hurried home that she might have plenty of time for that all-important matter—her toilette—before her friends should begin to arrive.

Then came the “sitting.” How trying it was! In the most prominent part of the room the engaged pair sat side by side, receiving the congratulations of all present.

This custom, though still kept up in a measure among Jews, has nevertheless changed very much of late years. The same custom, though in a still more painful form, was practised by the Dutch Boers of South Africa many years ago. We do not know how it may be to-day.

Emilia's engagement was to be a very short one, for love on the gentleman's side brooked no long waiting. His constant visits made a new and pleasant feature in her life in that quiet country town. His deep, passionate love for her wove a garment of romance about these visits. The unutterable tenderness of his speech and actions was exceedingly fascinating to the young girl, even though, as far as her heart was concerned, excitement and novelty were the most prominent experiences.

9

In view of the early wedding, Emilia, accompanying her mother, went to London shortly after this, for the purpose of purchasing the trousseau. All this time her heart was in a perfect whirl of excitement. She was thinking far more of the house, the carriage, and the servants she would be mistress of than of the man himself.

The wedding day drew very near. The invitations were all sent out, the wedding dress had been sent home from the costumier, and every one was on the tip-toe of preparation and expectancy. Emilia and her lover sat talking together. The subject of the insurance of his life came up, and she urged him to attend to it speedily. He promised that he would go up to London the very next day and complete the matter at once.

That same evening Emilia's father asked the young fellow about the insurance, supposing, of course, that he had seen to it weeks before. To his astonishment Mr. R— replied, “No, I have not got it done yet, but, as I have just told Emilia, I am going up to London to-morrow on purpose to arrange the whole thing.”

Next day he travelled to town intent on the business, and went straight to one of the best insurance societies in the kingdom. To his utter amazement the society's doctor refused to pass him. Smiling confidently he passed down the street again, as he said to himself, “That fellow is mad! But there are

10

heaps of other societies in London; I will go to one of the others and insure.”

He tried several others. The day was spent in a feverish rush from one to the other, but in every case the result was the same—not one of the doctors would pass him. The verdict of all was alike, “You are entering upon a serious stage of rapid consumption, and your only chance of prolonging life for an all too brief a while is to leave England at once, and take up your residence in the South of France or some other kindred clime.”

Dazed, bewildered, crushed, he found his way to the railway station to return to the town, where Emilia was waiting for him. He moved about like a man in a dream. The blow had fallen as suddenly as it had crushingly. No one, least of all himself, ever suspected the presence of that awful malady. He returned to Emilia, only to break the news to her.

Who shall describe that last interview between the affianced pair! The blank, bewildered disappointment of the gay young girl, as she saw all her dreams melt like mist before a sunrise. All her many wedding preparations to be brushed aside as utterly useless, and she herself the subject of pitying condolences from the multitude of friends whose recent congratulations still rang in her ears.

It is of the bridegroom-elect that we, however, think most of at this time. His whole soul was absorbed in a deep and passionate love. With him

11

it was not a matter of mere worldly things, such as house, servants, trousseau, and the like—it was the fair girl he loved, and whom he must now take a final farewell of.

Poor fellow! We will not attempt to lift the veil that Time has dropped over the agony of his heart on that day. He left England immediately, and in one of the sheltered nooks of that earthly paradise, the Riviera, he died a few months later.

[12]

CHAPTER II.—SORROW AND SICKNESS—GAIETY AND LOVE.

“Oh, would that the wind that is sweeping now

O'er the restless and weary wave,

Were swaying the leaves of the cyprus bough

O'er the calm of my early grave!

And my heart, with its pulses of fire and life,

Oh, would it were still as stone!

I am weary, weary of all the strife,

And the selfish world I have known.

I only sigh for a bright quiet spot

In the churchyard by the stream,

Whereon the morning sunbeams float,

And the stars at midnight dream;

Where only Nature's sound may wake

The sacred and silent air,

And only her beautiful things may break

Through the long grass waving there.”

THE suddenness of this, Emilia's first trouble, coming as it did to a system weakened by a long childhood of ill-health, caused her a great physical breakdown. The doctor and all at home decided that the best

13

thing for her under the circumstances was a complete change of air and scene. It was, therefore, arranged that she should go out to Australia on a visit to a married sister who had been there for several years.

One of Emilia's brothers had already arranged to leave England, so it was decided that she should accompany him. Preparations were pushed rapidly forward, and soon, all too soon for her loved ones, came Emilia's last day at home.

What a scene those last moments presented! All the young men and women, the sons and daughters of the family, were gathered beneath their parents' roof. Her mother sad-eyed, and sobbing quietly, her heart breaking with mother-grief. Brothers and sisters with sorrow-drawn features and with streaming eyes, stood all around. The dear old father, noble-looking, patriarchal—his white hair covered with a black velvet skull cap; his eyes turned reverently towards Heaven; his hands, trembling with agitation, stretched out upon the head of his sobbing child, as with voice, sorrow-laden in tone, he cried to the God of his fathers—“The Angel which redeemed me from all evil, bless my child.”

It was thus that Emilia left her home for that far distant land. She never more saw the face of him who blessed her that day, but his prayer, his blessing, followed her, and that, too, in its truest, deepest sense, even though he who spoke it himself failed to understand its full meaning. For surely the Angel

14

of the Covenant was Jesus, whom Emilia's father knew not.

The young girl's heart was full of unutterable sorrow as she left her home and dear ones. She deeply loved her parents and brothers and sisters, and they fully reciprocated her affection.

The passages of Emilia and her brother had been purposely taken in a sailing vessel, and, as the event proved, the long voyage of three months completely restored the invalid to more than her usual health.

They arrived in Melbourne on a Sunday. The married sister, to whose house they were of course immediately taken, had a large ball on that night.

Emilia entered upon her colonial life with a measure of physical health and strength such as she had never before known. She was also perfectly heart-whole, the love in her late engagement having been, as we have seen, all upon one side.

From almost the moment of her landing at Melbourne she was engulfed in a whirlpool of gaiety. Her sister lived in great style, moving in the most fashionable society; keeping her carriages and horses, and in every way living just the gay life, that at that time, was so dear to Emilia. She knew no satiety. She never tired of the gay and endless round of social festivity.

It had, indeed, ever been a leading characteristic of her life that whatever pursuit she entered upon at all, she at once threw herself into it most heartily.

15

One of her brothers, speaking of her at this time, has often said, “There was nothing that the heart of a worldly girl could desire that Emilia had not. She had youth, beauty—more than a common share of beauty—for the ugly duckling had developed into a lovely girl (as ugly ducklings have a knack of doing. She had heaps of admirers, an endless round of balls, operas, card parties, etc.”

In this last item Emilia was somewhat famous. She was clever and successful, and often took pounds from the pool at one sitting; for the Jews seldom play, except for money.

Emilia lived for Pleasure only at this time, yet the Eye of the loving Lord was upon her, and He waited that His voice and claims might be heard by her.

One day, amid the ordinary whirl of her, society life, she met Mr. Baeyertz.

How mysterious are the ways of life and the leadings of God! What was there in this gay girl that attracted Mr. Baeyertz? His was such an utterly different character, and, strange as it may seem at first sight, he was a true Christian, having been converted at his confirmation. He was a churchman, and he remained a churchman all his life, but was spared the folly of supposing that his baptism as an infant, and later still, his confirmation, could in any sense alone entitle him to the glorious name and experience of a child of God.

This was the man who desired to make this

16

beautiful, gay girl his wife. The affection was mutual. Emilia felt from the first that here was a man whom she could respect and love.

“Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought

Love gives itself, but is not bought;

Nor voice nor sound betrays

Its deep, impassioned gaze.

“It comes, . . . .

In silence and alone,

To seek the elected one.”

But while conscious of the true, deep affection which Mr. Baeyertz had inspired within her, Emilia felt at first that she dared not entertain the thought of marriage with a Christian. No greater stigma, no deeper disgrace could rest upon any member of the Jewish race, or upon any Jewish family, than for one to marry out of the faith.

“Love levels all,” “You cannot bind love,” the old proverbs say; and the true, deep affection which soon filled these two young hearts could not be restrained by mere race conventionalities.

In a few months they were engaged—secretly, though, “for fear of the Jews.” Had Emilia's sister known that this thing was working, as she had often said since, “I would have put you on board a homeward bound vessel, and never have left you until you were safely outside Port Phillip Heads.”

One is led to wonder often how sterling, solid

17

Christian men and women can so far forget or lose sight of the commandment of God as to marry unconverted wives or husbands, as the case may be. Yet many a true child of God has done this. Mrs. Baeyertz would be the very first to warn God's children of disobedience to His command in this matter, so that we feel it incumbent upon us to note this in passing, as in so small a book as this we cannot pause to explain every detail of difficulty, but must let the testimony of the after-life of Mr. and Mrs. Baeyertz silently answer and explain these and other questions which may arise.

A word or two upon Mr. Baeyertz's antecedents may not be out of place here. The family was originally a German one, though by long residence in England they had become practically English. The father of our Mr. Baeyertz served in the navy, but afterwards he went to the West Indies as private secretary to the Governor. In course of time he went out with his wife and family to a Government appointment in Australia.

When Mr. Baeyertz made known to his father his desire to marry Emilia, that gentleman was enraged at the thought of his son bringing a Jewess into their family; and told him that if he persisted in it, he should go out of his house at once and for ever. This he eventually did, and, taking up his abode at the bank of which he was manager, he began to urge upon Emilia the desirability of an immediate marriage.

[18]

CHAPTER III.—A SECRET MARRIAGE.

“How strong, how vast, how awful seems the power

Of this new love which fills a maiden's heart

For one who never bore a single hour

Of pain for her; which tears her life apart

From all its moorings, and controls her more

Than all the ties the years have held before;

Which crowns a stranger with a kingly grace,

And gives the one who bore her—second place.”

THE conflict in the heart of Emilia was at this time so great that she seemed literally at her wits ends. On the one hand there was the mighty mutual love between herself and Mr. Baeyertz, and all that the latter was passing through for her sake. On the other hand there was the awful shrinking of soul which she felt at the thought of bringing upon her parents and her sister the sorrow and shame and disgrace that would come to them if she married out of the Jewish faith.

Her sister, with whom she was living in Melbourne, had been like a mother to her; and when Emilia looked round upon that happy home, and reflected that by her marriage she would bring upon that sister

19

and into that home the most shameful sorrow, almost, that a Jew can ever know, she shrank from her contemplated step, for she loved her sister very truly.

So awful, so bitter was the struggle within her that she determined to sacrifice her own happiness, and wrote accordingly to Mr. Baeyertz telling him all she felt, and asking that the engagement might be broken off.

But love, strong and pure and mighty as theirs, would not be gainsaid. She saw how utterly wretched her letter had made him, and in an interview with him, when her own poor bleeding heart was wrung by many conflicting emotions, she yielded at last to his request and the real promptings of her own love, and named a day a couple of weeks later for the wedding.

All their preparations were made in secret. The night before the day arranged for the marriage was one of the keenest possible agony to poor Emilia. Alone in her room, she wept and thought, and, even then, wondered how she could dare carry out her plan when it would mean so great sorrow to those she loved. Again and again she would leave her room and cross to the mat outside her sister's door, then pause and weep in wild anguish, only to return to her own room lest her sobs should arouse the sleepers, and by-and-by repeat this strange journeying.

Utterly overcome at length, and still powerless to alter her course, she finally tried to write a letter to her sister.

20

Thus the night passed, and the morning of the 16th of October, 1865, dawned at last. Emilia was accustomed to bathe in the sea every morning before breakfast, and in their secret plans the young people had taken advantage of this fact to ensure her leaving the house without comment or notice. Her early rising and departure, therefore, on this, her wedding morning, occasioned no surprise in anyone's mind.

The servants of the house, in fact, knew what was about to take place, but there was little fear of their betraying the secret; for, with the usual love of mystery and excitement of their class, they were only too pleased to assist in anything so romantic as “a runaway match,” as they termed it.

Through the glorious freshness and beauty of that lovely semi-tropical morning, Emilia hastened to the trysting place. When she reached the spot she gazed about her, bewildered—there was no sign of the carriage, or of Mr. Baeyertz. She did not know that she had arrived before the time arranged.

A strange sense of utter desolation suddenly assailed her as she realised to the full how utterly she had now cut herself off from all her loved ones. “What if something has happened to Mr. Baeyertz and he does not come ?” suggested her overstrained heart.

This thought brought her deep, passionate love to the front again, and all other considerations, save that awful suggestion, were momentarily lost sight of. She began to pace excitedly up and down.

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When she turned the second time her glad eyes met the smiling, happy face of her lover, who was coming swiftly towards her. Two minutes later they were in the carriage, rolling rapidly away to the church.

They were married by the Rev. W. Wood, B.A., at Christ Church, Hawthorn, and having no friends of their own there, the clergyman's gardener and maidservant were called in to affix their signatures to the marriage certificate. Mr. Wood has said since that though he did not know it at the time, he did one of the best day's work of his life on that October morning.

How different was Mrs. Baeyertz's wedding to all the dreams of that ceremony she, as a gay society girl, had often indulged in. No troops of friends; no display of presents; no elaborate service; no imposing ceremonial; no crowded breakfast table; no gay honeymoon departure. Nothing she had dreamed of; but in the place of all there was the big church, dreary in its emptiness, with an echo that made her own voice, as she gave the responses, sound weird and unreal. She wore no bridal robe, met no friend's smile, but glanced, fearful of pursuit and forbiddance, backward towards the door. But all this fear and incongruity did not hinder the work of the hour, and when at last the crowning words were uttered which made them man and wife, she looked into the face of the man she loved, and who loved her, and all else was forgotten.

[22]

CHAPTER IV.—TWO LETTERS.

“Rest, dear soul, He longs to give thee;

Thou hast only dreamed of pleasure,

Dreamed of gifts and golden treasure,

Dreamed of jewels in thy keeping,

Waked to weariness of weeping;—

Open to thy soul's one Lover,

And thy night of dreams is over,—

The true gifts He brings have seeming

More than all thy faded dreaming!”

WHILE Mrs. Baeyertz was driving from the church where she had been made the happy wife of the man whom she so truly loved, consternation reigned in her sister's house. The latter speedily ascertained that the servants, if not in the plot, had been aware of what was taking place, and, in the first natural flush of her anger and indignation, she summarily dismissed them all. Then, as the full force of the awful disgrace of her sister's act (from the Jewish point of view) pressed upon her soul, she was overwhelmed with sorrow and shame.

Everywhere her eye looked, in almost every room of the house, she was reminded of the sister who had

23

disgraced her. Swiftly gathering everything together that belonged to the runaway, with everything which she had used or handled in the ordinary way, she had them packed and, without a line, despatched them at once to Mrs. Baeyertz.

In spite of the complete married happiness of Mrs. Baeyertz, the arrival of these things from her sister completely unnerved her. She sat down in the midst of the boxes and cried heartily, realising again to the full how completely she had cut herself off from home and kindred.

.....

In that room where Emilia's father had gathered his children, and where he had invoked that Divine blessing on his departing girl, he is sitting again.

It is an awful, a soul-melting sight to see a man weep. But what shall be said of deep, convulsive sobbings on the part of a man? Such a sight fills us with awe, and with a sympathy that is well-nigh tearful with us, as we watch.

Emilia's father sat sobbing thus before an open letter. The postmark was Melbourne, the news was of Emilia's marriage to a Christian. Poor, dear old man! Who can blame him if his anger and pride rose up, so that his heart became suddenly and awfully steeled against his child? Every letter of teaching; every instinct of his race; the overwhelming weight of the testimony of all the great religious leaders of his people; custom and habit of thirty or more

24

centuries, all forced his heart to regard his child as accursed.

He could not, however, find it in his loving soul to utter any curse upon her, though he altogether disinherited her, and never forgave her. Both he and his wife were equally proud of their name and descent, and never before in the history of their two families had their long line of ancestry been broken, or the names disgraced, by the marriage of any member out of the faith.

With an angry, grieved, sorrowing, but firm unrelenting spirit, he struck his child's name from the family record of the great Bible. And what of Emilia's mother? How did she act towards her child?

We remember reading somewhere of a Scotch minister who had been preaching upon Abraham's call to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Calling upon two of his parishioners during the week following the Sabbath preaching on this subject, the man of the house thanked him for the sermon, expressing at the same time the sense of help he had received from it. Thanking the old man for his words of appreciation, the minister said, “Ah, Donald! God made a mighty call upon the father's heart when he asked for Isaac. Do you think, if God had asked you for your son, you could have given him thus?”

“Weel, I dinna doobt,” replied the old man slowly, “that if the Lord had ask'it me, He'd doobtless ha'e given me grace to do His will.”

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Turning to the dear white-haired old wife the minister continued, “And you Nannie, do you think you could have given up an only child in that way?”

With eyes wide open with amazement at the question, and with a touch of indignation in her voice, the old woman replied, “Hoot mon! Do ye think the Lord would iver ask sich a thing o' a mither!”

Ay, mother-love is a more wonderful thing, as a rule, than father-love. Emilia's mother, while she wept with sorrow at her child's awful sin (as she conceived it to be), yet let all the stirrings of her mother-love go out to the erring one, and forgave her freely. She wrote to Mrs. Baeyertz to this effect.

When this letter reached her, and she recognised her mother's well-known handwriting on the envelope, she handled it for some moments with fear and trembling. Turning it over to break the seal her heart gave great leap of joy as she saw inscribed in one corner, in the handwriting of her favorite brother—“George's love.”

While speaking of this little “love inscription,” it is pleasant to know and to remember that this brother has ever been her staunch, true friend through all the years of her great family trial. Some of her friends have passed her by in the street without a sign of recognition, but George has never faltered in his love and friendship, but has ever proved his brotherly loyalty and love (although in later years her family have all lovingly received her).

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Who, save those who have been similarly situated, can tell all that that loving letter of the mother was to the child's heart. “As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.” We have known self-exiled men, and men on long-time service in many foreign lands, whose eyes have filled with tears when they have heard some comrade sing

“Good news from home, good news for me

Has come across the deep blue sea,”

and as they have watched the singer break the seal of his letters, their own hearts have hungered mightily for a line of love from absent ones.

These letters from her mother came to Mrs. Baeyertz regularly for many years, bringing on their wings love and brightness, until death's icy hand gripped the dear fingers. On her dying bed she sent last loving messages to her child in the far off land, who, in losing her mother, lost her dearest earthly friend.

[27]

CHAPTER V.—HUMAN LOVE AND HUMAN HOPES.

“'Twas in years ago, when the sun was low,

On a golden eve in spring,

And the shadows lay, as I heard you play

On the harpsichord and sing.

Tho' the wintry rime thro' the lapse of time

On my brow may the sight behold,

I can ne'er forget, they are with me yet,

The words of that song of old!

Where love is born there love will live,

Thro' all the years, tho' hearts may sever!

And time but greater strength will give,

For love, once love, is love for ever!”

MRS. BAEYERTZ'S married life, though short, was one of ideal happiness. Never were two persons more absolutely one in heart in all points, save that all-important one—the spiritual life.

Two children were born to them, a boy and a girl. Sometime before the birth of the second child they removed from Melbourne to Colac. It is about a hundred miles from the city, and is one of the most beautiful centres in the Victorian lake district. Of

28

this charming neighbourhood—to quote from Australian Pictures—Mr. Julian Thomas, the most popular descriptive writer of the Australian press, says:

“This lake district possesses distinct features, distinct beauties, as yet unsung and unheard of, except by the few. As I sit on a fragment of igneous rock and look around me, I indeed feel that the singer is less than his themes. I feel that I cannot do justice to the magnificent view—I cannot describe all the pleasure it gives me. My readers must come and judge for themselves.

“We are on the edge of the extinct crater of an enormous volcano. Below us a number of lakes; fresh and salt. Some fifteen can be counted from this spot. They vary in size from the little mountain tarn filling up one of the mouths of the crater to the great Dead Sea, Corangamite, more than 90 miles round, and covering 49,000 acres. This lake is salter than the sea—no fish will live in its waters. . . . Corangamite Lake is studded with islands, which increase its attractions by the variety of their form. On these, I am told, the pelicans, so numerous here, build their nests. . . . . The park-like plains, stretching away to the horizon, are dotted with trees, under which thousands of cattle and sheep are sheltering from the rays of the noonday sun. Here and there pleasant homesteads, green cultivation patches, and fields of golden grain.

“But the especial glory of the scene is in the variety

29

and number of the smaller lakes filling the craters below us. The yellow tints of the bracken covering the slopes are varied with green glints from the foliage of choice ferns on the steep banks, other colours being supplied by the mosses on the rocks.

“A strange feature in the lakes here is that they are alternately fresh and salt. Of five within gunshot of where we stand, three are salt and two fresh, yet they are separated only by narrow isthmuses. They vary also considerably in their height above sea-level. Corangamite is higher than Colac.”

In their beautiful home on the banks of this loveliest of the lakes—Colac—Mr. Baeyertz was in his element. He was passionately fond of out-door pursuits, yet he combined with this the intensest love of home. He was also a most ardent lover of music.

His love of out-door pursuits might be traced in the facts that his boats were the first that sailed upon the beautiful waters of Lake Colac; and his dogs were so perfectly trained that they were specially selected for, and used by, Prince Alfred, when his Royal Highness visited the locality in 1870.

It was here, amid the pure joys of a happy home, and in the constant company of her devoted husband, that Mrs. Baeyertz began first to realise that true religion was something more than a name or a creed.

Every day she saw more clearly that her husband possessed some wonderful inner power that was the

30

spring of all his life and acts, but which she could neither understand nor enter into.

He never spoke to her about religion—she had insisted upon this condition before consenting to marry him—but his life spoke something of what his lips were not allowed to utter.

In the multitude of thoughts that thronged her mind at this time regarding religion, one constantly recurred. It was this—“How can I train my children in the faith of their father—which I intend to do—unless I too know something of Christianity?”

Full of this thought, she decided to be christened and confirmed. The first step was taken in this direction when she, with her little baby girl, were both christened on the same day.

But she found no rest of heart from her compliance with this ordinance. She was not seeking God in the matter, but only a means of fulfilling her love to her husband and children. A little later on she presented her name as a candidate for confirmation. When her papers came for filling up, instead of attempting to answer the various questions herself, she tossed them over to a lady friend who was visiting her, and who was present at the time, saying, with a little laugh, “You know more about this sort of thing than I do, please answer these questions for me.”

Speaking of this friend whom she asked to fill up the confirmation papers, Mrs. Baeyertz says, “After hearing nothing of her for over twenty years, she sent

31

up her card to me on the platform of a meeting in London, only a few months ago, and on the card was written—`Mrs. S—, of the old Colac days.'”

Mrs. Baeyertz was in due time confirmed. After her confirmation she stayed once to the “communion,” thinking that this would be the crowning deed of the religious course she had set herself.

“The letter killeth,” saith God's word, and Mrs. Baeyertz found that this mere attendance upon the “letter” of the service brought with it an excruciating pain of soul, such as she had never known before.

An awful horror came upon her during the service, and she was overwhelmed with a sense of being father from God than ever. “How can you, how dare you say the Creed?” her conscience thundered out. “How dare you say `I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of Heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord,' believing deep down in your heart, as you do, that He was a mere man, and, therefore, an imposter, since He declared Himself to be Divine.” She never once after this dare go to the Lord's Table. She felt that it was no place for her.

Over and over again at this period of her life did she wish that she had been born without a soul, that she might have been saved all this trouble and anxiety. “Oh that there was no hereafter!” she would cry. “How happy I could be with all that I have in this life!”

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Through all this time at Colac she was a constant attendant at church, assisting in special ways, and taking part in every ordinary effort made in the general work. And about this time a public recognition was made of these services of hers. A handsome silver tea and coffee service was presented to her, bearing the inscription—“In grateful acknowledgment of Mrs. Baeyertz's invaluable services in connection with St. John's Church, Colac.”

[33]

CHAPTER VI.—SACRED HOURS.

“Ah! those words we know, as our hearts can show,

Were as sweet as they were true;

And they linked our lives with the loving gyves

That e'en now to both seem new!

Thro' the mist of years, with their hopes and fears,

I can see that eve in Spring,

And I yearn to-night, in the fading light,

Once more, dear, to hear you sing:

Where love is born there love will live,

Thro' all the years, tho' hearts may sever! And time but greater strength will give,

For love, once love, is love for ever!”

FAILING to find in the letter of ordinances the rest of heart she had desired and hoped to have secured, Mrs. Baeyertz tried to thrust aside utterly the question of her soul's salvation. She threw herself heartily into every form of pleasure which the neighbourhood and her social circle offered. She determined to “enjoy life.” With her lovely home, her devoted husband, her charming children, her saddle-horses, boats, personal friends, and all the social gatherings of the place, she told herself that she would be as gay as a bird.

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“All we like sheep have gone astray”—we follow the crowd—“we have turned everyone unto his own way”—everyone after the dictates of his own heart and natural tastes, but “all astray,” and Mrs. Baeyertz again turned unto “her own way.” She had chosen her own way before, when she thought to satisfy her soul with the husks of ordinances. That had failed, and now she chose another, a pleasanter way to her natural taste—the way of gay social life.

But God did not leave her. He had marked her for His own, and He knew her heart better than she did herself. In His own way—painful as that was destined to be—He was about to fulfil the desires of her soul. She thought to drown in gaiety the real longing of her deepest need; He determined to purify that longing, then satisfy it, and in the end exalt it to the highest state upon earth by making her divinely-satisfied soul a messenger of peace to others.

But before all this should come to pass there was to be a Gethsemane and a Gabatha for her.

Like a gracious benediction do the days of which this chapter must treat stand out in the memory of Mrs. Baeyertz. Days were they when it seemed as though the gathered wealth of love of a hundred lives had been upheaved, and was now poured forth upon her from the overflowing heart of her husband.

Looking back over those blissful days which preceded the great sorrow of her life, she has often said that “great and wonderful as was her husband's

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tenderness throughout their married life, he, all unconscious of the severing of the tie that was so soon to come, seemed in these last days to literally lavish loving thought and tender care upon her, every moment of her life.”

One of the forms in which Mrs. Baeyertz's interest in St. John's Church had found expression was that of the formation and training of a choir. It was the last week but one of her husband's life that she was sitting in the church—the door was wide open—practising some pieces for the following Sunday, when he came in. Cheering and helping her with tender word and loving counsel, he remained until her practice was over. Then, as he often did on such occasions, he sang a solo to her accompaniment.

On this particular day the solo was one that was a great favorite of his—“O Paradise! O Paradise!” Little did he know how her heart yearned with an unutterable longing for the rest of which he sang in those old words:

“O Paradise! O Paradise!

Who doth not crave for rest?

Who would not seek the happy land

Where they that loved are blest?

Where loyal hearts and true

Stand ever in the light ,

All rapture through and through,

In God's most holy sight.”

Her eyes were moist with the checked tears, but her

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fingers still mechanically pressed the notes as her loved one sang on of “the world growing old,” and the longing to be “at rest and free.”

Little did either singer or player dream that in about a week he, the singer, with his “loyal heart and true,” would be “standing in the light, in God's most holy sight”—

“Away from strife, away from sin,

With God eternally shut in.”

One day, at the beginning of that last week of his life, he asked Mrs. Baeyertz to meet him at his father's place, “Nerennin,” in the evening. “Nerennin,” the home of his father and mother, was about a mile and a half away from their own home, they having come up to Colac to be near their son.

“We can spend a pleasant evening,” he said, “and then I will row you home across the lake.”

The evening was spent pleasantly, and at nine o'clock he said, “Come, and I will get the boat.” His mother wrapped Mrs. Baeyertz in a large cloak, then husband and wife walked down to the lake's side.

What a perfect night it was! The moon was brilliant; the trees and shrubs exuded that fresh, fragrant aromatic odour so essentially a peculiarity, in some form or another, of all Australian vegetation; the tiny wavelets of the lake gently rippled with softest musical murmur.

The little boat, with its cushions and everything

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that love could devise or make for comfort, tossed and tugged softly at its painter, as though it would fain escape from its tethering. With a gracious, chivalrous tenderness Mr. Baeyertz settled his wife in the stern-sheets, then pushed off the tiny craft. With light and noiseless dip of the oars, he pulled gently away.

The boat glided smoothly over the still waters of the lake, which were silvered by the pale light of the moon. A myriad star-eyes twinkled in the deep blue of the heavens above. The silence was profound. “A kind of solemn awe rested upon us both, I remember,” says Mrs. Baeyertz, speaking of this time, “and for a while neither of us spoke. When, after a time, we did converse, it was in low, hushed tones, for there seemed a sacred purity about the wonderful silence and beauty of that night.”

How often have God's children remembered, in the days following some sudden bereavement, such times and seasons as this of which we are writing. In the light of sadder after events they have seen the graciousness of the Divine love which permitted such sacred moments of intercourse, that, like balm to their bereaved souls, Memory was to reproduce for their comfort in after days.

[38]

CHAPTER VII.—“WHY? OH, WHY IS THIS?

“Oh for the touch of a vanished hand,

And the sound of a voice that is still!”

“He was not . . . for God took him.”

“Shall not the judge of all the earth do right?”

ON that last Saturday of his life, as they sat together at luncheon, Mr. Baeyertz announced that, after the meal, he was going out with his gun. Suggesting that Mrs. Baeyertz should pay some visits while he was away, he promised to be home punctually to dinner, so that afterwards they might have a good practise of the hymns for next day's service.

How vividly every incident of that day stands out in the memory of Mrs. Baeyertz! After luncheon, his horse was brought round, and she went out with him, watched him mount, then with his bright beautiful smile and tender word of “good-bye” upon his lips, he rode away.

Always infected by his gentle brightness, Mrs. Baeyertz turned back into the house, and with her heart full of joy, went tripping up the stairs singing in the most light-hearted fashion.

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She spent the afternoon in visiting; and, returning in good time, dressed for dinner, then went down into the drawing-room. Her baby girl, at her request, was brought by the nurse, and, with the little one in her arms, she waited by the window watching for her husband's return. Her little boy stood upon a chair at her side, and prattled away after his own sweet childish fashion.

The moments, the quarter-hours passed on, and still Mrs. Baeyertz watched. By-and-by she saw a man pass the window, with the keys of the church in his hand. Beckoning to him, she said, through the open window, “Come in, please, or send up the keys, as we want to practise tonight.”

With a suddenly relieved look, the hitherto-clouded face of the man was lifted as he replied, “Oh then, I'm thankful that Mr. Baeyertz's accident is not so bad as I heard it was.”

“Accident!” she gasped. “What do you mean?”

In a few words, the now thoroughly-frightened man told what he had heard, that “Mr. Baeyertz had met with a gun accident, and was even then being brought home.”

Some of the servants of the house had by this time heard the news and came to warn Mrs. Baeyertz, but the latter, full of alarm and anxiety, waited for nothing, but ran away to her room, and quickly donning her bonnet and cloak, left the house immediately.

Speeding up the road, she first met her husband's

40

favorite dog. The faithful creature seemed to know that sorrow had fallen upon his master, and gazed with dumb, but expressive sympathy, into his mistress's face.

Stooping down, she flung her arms about the neck of the dog, weeping, while she talked a moment to the sorrowful beast.

Then there broke upon her ear the dim sound of distant wheels, and hurrying on she presently saw a four-wheeled cart slowly approaching. A few moments later she had met it and climbed into it, to find her husband lying upon a mattress in the bottom of the vehicle.

None dare write of that first moment of meeting. With his dear head resting upon her knee, the sad procession went on to the house. He was carried to bed immediately on his arrival, and the best doctor available was in constant attendance. But the case grew more and more serious, and other advice being deemed necessary, another doctor from a distance was telegraphed for.

It was in the dead of night that the second doctor arrived. As the coach, with its four-in-hand, dashed through the streets of Colac, he was amazed to find almost every house in the place lighted up. Enquiring the cause, he soon ascertained how intensely everyone was stirred by Mr. Baeyertz's precarious condition, for he was universally loved by rich and poor alike.

Arrived at the house, he critically examined his

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patient, then having consulted with the other medical man, immediate amputation of the arm was decided upon. The operation was performed, but the patient began rapidly to sink. The death-look crept slowly, surely into his face, and the heart-stricken wife knew that nothing could keep him back.

We draw a veil over the slow, sad details of horror of the hours that followed. All too soon “he was not, for God took him.” By his body Mrs. Baeyertz knelt and vowed never to rest until she knew that she was made meet to go to him to that heavenly rest where she was assurred his soul had already sped.

Never before had the power of his many prayers for her come home so mightily to her soul as when she looked upon those lips that had suddenly become silent for ever.

Like the very voice of God, did all her husband's past anxiety for her soul's welfare come back to her. She had prohibited his speaking to her personally about religious matters, but she could not keep him from praying for her while he had life and breath. Many, many times at night, when he would kneel so long, so very long in silent prayer, she would ask him on rising from their knees, “Why do you pray so long? and for what do you pray?”

“I pray for you,” he would reply. “I must not talk with you of Christ, but I can speak to Him of you, and beseech Him to shew you Himself and in some way to reach you.”

At these seasons of prayer, husband and wife were wont to kneel together hand in hand.

We give the following newspaper cutting from the Colac Observer of March 10th, 1871, which shows better than we can hope to do, the respect in which Mr. Baeyertz was held by all who knew him:

“With unfeigned regret we have to record the unexpected decease of Mr. Charles Baeyertz, jun., the manager of the National Bank of Australasia at Colac, a gentleman who had well earned the respect and esteem of the residents of this district. That we know not what a day or an hour may bring forth is daily being verified, and the death of Mr. Baeyertz is a notable instance. Cut off at the early age of twenty-eight, holding an excellent position, and in the circles of society, with an affectionate wife and two children, life in the future seemed bristling with happiness, peace, and prosperity; and whether in his own domestic circle or in his public business, he was ever the same, endeavouring to render those around him as happy as possible. His genial temperament, which enabled him to contribute vivacity and cheerfulness wherever he was placed; his kind, obliging manner to all, without respect of persons; his affability, both in public and private; his excellent business habits, and his willingness to stretch out a helping hand to any charitable cause, were all traits in his character which we are all conversant with, and which made Mr. Baeyertz a welcome visitor, a valuable assistant, and a thorough good fellow, as we have heard him so often called during this week. In fact, we can confidently record the fact that no one in the district had more friends and fewer enemies than he had drawn around him. Those who knew him longest loved him best, and his departure to another scene has caused anguish in many hearts. . . . . . No more reliable testimony could be adduced of the respect and esteem felt towards the deceased than the large assemblage which

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followed his remains to its last resting-place on Thursday. Most of the principal places of business were partially closed, and a general air of mourning and solemnity pervaded the town. The Shire Council adjourned at twelve o'clock to allow the members to attend the funeral, and nearly all the principal gentlemen of the town and district were present. The cortége left shortly after one o'clock, there being thirty or forty conveyances and a large number of horsemen. The Rev. Mr. Sabine officiated at the burial service. One of the most touching spectacles was the deceased's little son, who, while the service was being proceeded with, sprinkled a basket of flowers into the grave. Thus ended the last scene in the departure of one who was loved by many and respected by all, for the eminent virtues which formed such prominent traits in his character.

[44]

CHAPTER VIII.—BY THE STILL WATERS OF HIS LAKE.

“Fog-wreaths of doubt in blinding eddies drifted,

Whirlwinds of fancy, countergusts of thought,

Shadowless shadows where warm lives were sought; Numb feet, that feel not their own tread, uplifted

On clouds of formless wonder, lightning-rifted!

What marvel that the whole world's life should seem,

To helpless intellect, a Brahma-dream,

From which the real and restful is outsifted!”

.....

THE evening of the day of the funeral, the good Presbyterian minister's wife came to the bereaved home and took Mrs. Baeyertz away to the manse. It was a loving thought of these good friends, and they hoped that by the change and by loving ministrations to wean in some measure the poor stricken heart of the widowed wife from her too-absorbing grief. They could not know how hardly she was being pressed by the great enemy of souls. They did not hear his fiendship whispered suggestion, that “life was ended for her; it was useless to prolong her existence; why not take poison and die ?”

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One keen-eyed woman who watched the face of the poor tried tempted widow at this time, saw in it an expression that warned her of something of what was passing in her mind. This woman was so troubled by the expression she had seen in Mrs. Baeyertz's face that she could not rest, and later on followed the heart-stricken woman to her home, whither she had gone. Finding the door of her room unlocked, she went in, and found her lying upon the bed where he had died, with a bottle of laudanum in her hand. It was thus that God defeated Satan's plot, and gave the poor tempted one deliverance.

After this gracious salvation from a fearful temptation, Mrs. Baeyertz went to stay with her husband's mother at “Nerennin.” The two bereaved women, whose grief was one, would sit and weep together; for each had loved the lost one in a way none else in the world could know—since none else can guage a mother's love or a wife's love.

One damp misty evening Mrs. Baeyertz was returning from her dear one's grave, where she had been all afternoon, and walking up the lane which led to her father-in-law's house, where she was staying, sad thoughts filled her heart. Nobody seemed to care for her now; her children were quite happy without their father, being too young to appreciate their loss, and everything went on just the same without him. There was no one looking out for her, and she trudged on in the gathering darkness, feeling utterly desolate and

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alone; when presently peering through the gloom she saw her husband's favorite dog coming to meet her. “Dear faithful old dog,” she said, “you don't forget me,” and she knelt down in the lane, put her two arms around his neck and sobbed out her loneliness there, and the dear dumb brute looked sympathy and love out of his brown eyes; and somehow feeling cheered and comforted by the dog's sympathy, she walked on with him with a lighter heart.

On the Saturday night four weeks after her husband's death, Mrs. Baeyertz felt so utterly desolate that the four walls of the house seemed, to her overburdened heart, like an awful prison. With the instinct of a wounded, sorrow-sick soul, she yearned for the open face of Nature. No desert or forest depth was near her to which she felt drawn, but there was the lake shore, with its cool murmuring waters, close by, and with her weary heart she took her way thither. “If there could be healing in any place for her, if any balm could drop upon her heart,” she told herself, “surely it would be by the calm waters over which her loved one had so often sailed.” Every murmur of every wave-lap; every ripple, silvered by the pale moonbeams; every sweet, fresh breath that passed over its surface, seemed in a sacred, subtle sense to be associated with him whom she mourned. In her heart she called it “Charlie's Lake!” and now she sought its banks.

His boat was hauled up upon the beach, just as he

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had left it, when his hands rested last on its gunwale. Every timber and rivet of the dear dead inanimate thing spoke of him. He had handled every plank, every nail, every knee, every rivet—for he had built her with his own hands. And now those hands were still in death. Never more would she know their warm, loving clasp. His voice which, while he had worked on the boat, had been wont to talk with her, or when he worked alone to enliven the busy hour with song, was now stilled—as far as this world was concerned—for ever.

It all crowded upon her now. It was an agony of sorrow which seemed unbearable; and as though she would somehow get nearer to her lost one, she crept inside his boat, and laying her head upon its gunwale, she sobbed, “O, Charlie! my own dead darling, I cannot, cannot live without you.”

For a few moments heart-breaking sobs choked her utterance, then her soul wailed out, “I have no God! No Christ to comfort me!”

She bowed her head beneath the awful tempest of sorrow of heart and soul, and sobbed on amid the silence and solitude of the night.

By-and-by, across the beach, there came the sound of slow footsteps. Presently the steps paused close by the boat, a gentle loving hand was laid upon the bowed head of the weeper, while a sweet voice, broken with an unspoken anguish of its own, said softly, “We must bear it, dear.”

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The comforter was her poor bereaved mother.

That night a bond of love was formed between the two sorrowing women that nothing ever altered, save that as the years went by, the love deepened, the bond was strengthened.

It was Mrs. Baeyertz whom God eventually used for the conversion of her dead husband's mother. And when, in after days, that mother herself was widowed, and both were living in Melbourne, Mrs. Baeyertz was a true daughter to her; and many were the days when she would steal over to the Melbourne “Nerennin,” where the pair would spend long hours talking together of the loved one gone before.

Surely in heaven that mother will praise and magnify the grace of God for the gift of her son's Jewish wife.

The recording of that night scene on the banks of Lake Colac, with the tender sympathy of the mother, almost compels us to digress, as we have just done. But to return to the consecutive order of the events of our life story.

The one dominant idea in Mrs. Baeyertz's mind now was, “How shall I find God? How find my dear dead one's Christ? For unless I do this I can never go to him; I can never see him again.”

This, and not entirely a crushing sense of her demerit before God, was at first the moving principle which actuated her in her search for Christ. Full of her determination she began, for the first time in her life, to read through the New Testament; and God stood

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waiting to lead her into realms of wondrous Truth of which she little dreamed.

“Sorrows are like clouds,” someone has said, “which, though black when they are just passing over us, when they are overpast become as if they were the garments of God thrown off in purple and gold along the horizon.” Mrs. Baeyertz was soon now to learn something of this gracious truth.

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CHAPTER IX.—“I WAS SICK AND IN PRISON!”

“Oh joy to know that thou hast found Thy fair and weary dove, Rejoicing o'er the wanderer now, and resting in Thy love;

That Thou art glad, that Thou hast seen the travail of Thy soul, Thy blessed Name emblazoned on a new and living scroll!

So once again we praise Thee, with Thy holy ones above,

Because another heart has seen Thy great and mighty love;

Another heart will own thee Lord, and worship Thee as King,

And grateful love and glowing praise and willing service bring.

Another voice to `tell it out' what great things Thou hast done, Another life to live for Thee, another witness won,

Another faithful soldier on our Captain's side enrolled,

Another heart to read aright Thy heart of love untold!”

“MANY a day amid this time of awful sorrow,” says Mrs. Baeyertz, “have I lain in the damp upon the grave of my husband, and prayed that God would take me. Very bitter and hard, too, were my thoughts of God, whom I would accuse of dealing cruelly with me. My one longing was for my loved one.”

But with every day's renewed determination and

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renewed search after Christ in the Word of the New Testament, there came something of milder, gentler feeling.

One day she was alone, reading the old, old story in the Gospel of St. John, when the Truth she searched for, the Person she sought, burst suddenly upon her astonished, delighted gaze. God's Holy Spirit shewed her Jesus as the Saviour, as her Saviour.

“Christ is God, she cried, “and He died for me. I have found Him, and He is my Saviour.”

With the wonderful Divine revelation there came a perfect flood of love into her heart for her Lord, such as (to use her own words) “I could never describe. On my knees I sobbed aloud, not for sorrow this time, but for joy.”

Never from that first moment of joy has Mrs. Baeyertz had one shadow of doubt as to her acceptance with God. Like all who know the joy of the new birth, of sins forgiven, the language of her soul has ever been:

“I know not how this saving faith

To me He did impart;

Or how believing in His Word

Wrought peace within my heart.”

But “I know whom I have believed; and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him against that day.”

She had taken a small cottage in Colac, and furnished it from the larger home she once had at the

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bank. Her new home was a charming little spot without; a delightful cosy, little nook within. Like a tired bird she had settled herself down here, only longing for rest. But God had other plans for her.

The doctor assured her sister, whose loving sympathy at this time was very precious, that if she remained at Colac she would break down utterly. The shock of her husband's death had been so awful, her constant grief was so exhausting, and the associations of everything around her were all so sorrowfully suggestive, that he declared the only hope of her ever recovering was in going right away.

With her two children, the youngest a sweet girl little more than a baby, she broke up her home and went down to Geelong. Here she almost immediately began to work for her Lord. She had been forgiven much and she loved much. She was but a babe in Christ, but as mere babes in our homes often have the instinct and desire to help “mother,” so the truly forgiven soul, the new-born spiritual babe, longs and seeks to serve the Lord.

Geelong was, of course, a very different place from sweet Colac. If position, priority of town-rights, nearness to the sea, and other advantages had only the power to outweigh the presence in other places of the almighty gold, then Geelong would long since have taken its place as the capital of Victoria. As it is, it ranks about third or fourth amongst the leading cities of that prosperous colony.

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The town is beautifully enthroned on the shores of the lovely Corio Bay, and has many striking features to commend it to the visitor. Not the least of these are the three or four large splendidly-appointed bathing establishments which dot the banks of the bay.

Mrs. Baeyertz's chief interest in the town was, however, not its natural or artificial beauties, but its thousands of precious souls, many of whom were without God or hope in the world. When Jesus beheld beautiful Jerusalem, from the very same point geographically, whence others paused enraptured to admire it, He wept over it; because He saw the souls that were dying, He saw the sins of the city, He saw the coming judgments, where others only saw a city beautiful for situation, a joy of the whole earth.

It was in this spirit that Mrs. Baeyertz gazed upon Geelong when she went to reside there.

There was a gaol, with its inmates hardening under the influence of the law, and her heart yearned to bring to bear upon these men and women the melting power of the Gospel of God's grace.

Sick and suffering ones languished within the wards of the hospital whose souls were sin-stricken, whose heart-wounds had “not been bound up or mollified with ointment,” and she yearned to go to these and say

“The Great Physician now is here,

The sympathising Jesus.”

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She did not rest until she had visited these suffering ones and assured them that

“His touch had still its ancient power,”

and that He waited to say to them, “Thy sins which are many are all forgiven thee.”

In the glorious impulse of the constraining love of Christ within her, the visiting of the gaol and hospital seemed but a little thing. She yearned to do more, to tell to all around what a great Saviour she had found. So it came to pass that she took up the regular house-to-house visitation of a large district. This was done, not in the perfunctory style that begins and ends with a knock at the door, a half wish that there will be no answer; or if there is a response, a being satisfied with a mere cut-and-dried word and a hurrying off to the next house. No, her service was soul service. She held her commission not from the vicar of her parish only, but from her loving Lord, to whom she expected to account for the souls committed to her keeping.

Then, as if all this work were not enough, she had in addition a large class of lads from fifteen to twenty, whom she taught in the Sunday school.

In spite of all this outside work she never neglected her home or her children. From the first she had had a deep sense of the responsibility of motherhood, and nothing was ever permitted to interfere with God's first charge to her—her home and little ones. Her

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boy was her constant companion, when not working for God, and a great comfort to her.

Working in such a spirit as this, it is not surprising that, from the outset, God crowned her efforts with success. Many a man and woman, sick or in prison, had to thank God for illness or incarceration, since the hospital or gaol proved to be the birth-place of their souls.

God doubtless permitted Mrs. Baeyertz to pass through many processes of Divine deliverance that she might know thoroughly how to deal with the myriads of people who were similarly fettered and bound like herself, and to whom He was about to send her as His messenger.

How wondrous is the calling of God's sent ones! To go to the groaning world and say (we write it here with all reverence), “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings . . He hath sent me to . . . proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound.”

It was in Geelong that Mrs. Baeyertz offered her first prayer in public. The circumstances of the occasion was such as to cause her never to forget them, and as they may help some timid worker who may read this book, we gladly let the incident find a place here.

A friend was most anxious that Mrs. Baeyertz should attend a prayer-meeting for mothers held in

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the Presbyterian manse. This she gladly consented to do. After attending two or three times, this friend said, “you must pray next week!”

“Oh, no!” said Mrs. Baeyertz. “I could not! It would be utterly impossible.” A long talk ensued between the two upon the matter, which resulted in Mrs. Baeyertz consenting to write a prayer out for the next meeting, which she would read, should an opportunity occur for her to pray.

The day of the next meeting arrived, and Mrs. Baeyertz went armed with her written prayer. But when her turn came to pray, she discovered to her dismay that the light was too dim for her to see the written letters. Then an awful sense of nervousness came over her, so that the dim lines danced in a maze before her eyes.

“What should she do?” She had begun, so could not break off abruptly without any attempt to fulfil her promised word. She thrust the paper prayer into her pocket, looked straight away to God, talked to Him as a yearning child would to a parent, and speedily forgot everything else. The written prayer was out of the way in the deepest depth of her pocket; the people around her were utterly lost sight of; and God, her God, who had redeemed her, was present before her.

The question is often asked, “What denomination does Mrs. Baeyertz belong to?”

Mrs. Baeyertz numbers among her personal friends,

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all over the world, a vast number of ministers, as well as laymen, of all denominations, but she has never left the church of her early choice—the Church of England, among the bishops and clergy of which she has a host of friends.

But in the widest and truest sense Mrs. Baeyertz belongs to the whole Church of God, and with every truly spirit-taught soul, she longs for the day when—

“The walls that fence CHRIST'S flocks apart

Shall crack and crumble in decay.”

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CHAPTER X.—“MYSTERIOUS WAYS.”

“He answered all my prayer abundantly,

And crowned the work that to His feet I brought,

With blessing more than I had asked or thought—

A blessing undisguised, and fair and free.

I stood amazed, and whispered, `Can it be

That He hath granted all the boon I sought?

How wonderful that He for me hath wrought!

How wonderful that He hath answered me!'

O faithless heart! He said that He would hear

And answer thy poor prayer, and He hath heard

And proved His promise. Wherefore didst thou fear?

Why marvel that thy Lord had kept His word?

More wonderful if He should fail to bless

Expectant faith and prayer with good success!”

ABOUT this time Mrs. Baeyertz received a letter from the Rev. H. B. Macartney, of St. Mary's, Caulfield, asking her if she would come to Melbourne as a missionary to the Jews. After a great deal of prayerful consideration she consented; though after events proved that God had another purpose for her. Like St. Paul, she was to be called to be an Apostle to the Gentiles.

She went to Melbourne with her two children, but

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had not been there twenty-four hours before the youngest was taken very ill with what turned out to be a malignant type of scarlet fever.

The devil immediately made a fearful onslaught upon her faith; but though severely tried, she was enabled to trust God, and in the end to gladly glorify His name for a wonderful deliverance.

One afternoon, as the doctor was leaving, he told Mrs. Baeyertz that the dreaded crisis in the case of the sick child was coming; that night would decide whether she lived or died.

Alone in the sick room Mrs. Baeyertz knelt by the bedside of the little unconscious sufferer, with an anguish of heart which only a mother can know or feel. The little fevered child could not ask for all its needs—it did not know its own need—it was in the fiery grip of the fever-fiend. So it was with the yearning mother-heart that watched. She could not tell out to God all that her bursting heart yearned to say, in this her hour of deepest need. But she could do as a child will do; she could look up pleadingly into her Father's face, and He, out of the wealth of His love, and not according to her capacity for asking, was willing to bless her.

The dull, leaden-footed moments passed on. By-and-by she looked at the clock. It was just eleven! Like a flash it came before her, that it was exactly eleven on that very night, six years before, that her dear husband had passed away. Oh, the awful anguish

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of the moment! Every incident of that black night passed in vivid review before her.

She looked down upon the face of her suffering, unconscious child, and the awful dread of another bereavement came upon her. This child, her little girl who had been such a solace to her amid the darkest moments of that terrible past, was she too to be taken from her? The little life hung in the balance, but—there was a gleam of hope in this thought—God held the balance.

Yet at first she was too stricken to pray. Then, bowed there silently before God, His peace seemed to fill her soul, and she was able to speak to Him. She then and there yielded the little one up to God, to do with it as it should seem best to Him.

It was doubtless at that very moment of absolute submission to the Divine will, that God gave the life of the child back to its mother, to be a joy and comfort and solace to her through all the after years up to the present.

When the doctor came next morning he was literally amazed at the improvement in the little one, and declared that it was marvellous.

This definite token of God's love and mercy to her child was a source of great strengthening of the faith and love of Mrs. Baeyertz, and was but one of many other cases of proving God's power and grace.

After the child was quite restored to health, Mrs. Baeyertz began her work among the Jews. She used

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to visit them in their homes, and try to get them to allow her to read the Bible—more especially the New Testament—to them. It proved to be very uphill work; but she was not easily daunted. As a rule, directly they found out that Mrs. Baeyertz had been a Jewess, and was now a “Meshumad,” they were so incensed against her that they could not be prevailed upon to listen to anything she had to say. More than once her life was threatened, and on one occasion it was only by God's special mercy that she escaped alive.

She was visiting in rather a poor part of the city, and called at a house where she had once been before. She had only just entered, when the daughter said, “Father has sworn by an oath, which he would not break, that if he catches you here again he will kill you!”

The words had scarcely escaped the lips of the girl, when the father—who was out when Mrs. Baeyertz called—passed the window on his way to the front door. The girl raced to the door and locked it; then seizing Mrs. Baeyertz's hand, she whispered, “Come with me quickly! This is your only chance.”

Following the girl through the narrow passage, Mrs. Baeyertz found herself thrust hurriedly through a small door in the rere of the house, while the trembling voice of the girl whispered hurriedly, “Run for your life!”

Soon after this, Mrs. Baeyertz had the Melbourne factories much laid upon her heart. These were the

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days when there were few Christian agencies at work among factory girls. We have heard it said that Mrs. Baeyertz, under God, was the first in that glorious city of Melbourne to get the factories opened for regular visitation. She began by visiting the larger factories, and holding meetings in the dinner-hour with the women and girls. God's manifested power and blessing rested upon the new-work from the first, and many remarkable and striking incidents might be mentioned here if space permitted. One solemn incident we must give. One forenoon in one of the meetings Mrs. Baeyertz was impressed to say, “There's a woman here who will never hear the Gospel again. I am sent here with a last message to some one. Who is it?” On rising to leave at the close of the meeting, the head of the department, a Jewish woman, escorted Mrs. Baeyertz downstairs. As they stood together at the large baize door, Mrs. Baeyertz turned to her and said, “Mrs. H—, how is it with you; are you saved?” “Well,” she said, “if you had asked me that question before your meeting I should have said no! I did profess once, but I went back; now during this service I have received Christ. He is my Saviour. He died for me.” Two hours after that she was taken very ill; some of the women took her to the hospital, but while the matron turned to get her a drink of water she fell back dead.

Such an incident as this could not fail to impress her listeners. This is not the only incident of this

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class that has marked the evangelistic career of Mrs. Baeyertz. Again and again, at various places, she has been solemnly impressed with the same awful sense of the presence of some one in the meeting who was about to be cut off from life. And again and again, the news of the day following has been to confirm that impression, and to warrant her solemn public statement of her conviction.

While engaged thus among the factory women, the Secretary of the Y. W. C. A. asked her to come and address a class of girls. She went, and had six girls for a first congregation. But the little meeting grew with such rapidity, that one night the Secretary met her at the door, saying, “our room is crowded out, and we have had to adjourn to the large Assembly Hall.”

This came with something of a shock to Mrs. Baeyertz and for the moment she felt that she could not stand up in that big place and address such a company. But that fear was only for a moment; the next, the word of the Lord came to her to strengthen her, and she blessed God for giving her an opportunity of telling out his glorious salvation to so large a number of souls.

We have recently seen a paragraph that appeared in The Christian, under date January 31, 1878, which has been forwarded by Dr. Singleton, of Melbourne, that will tell something of what people on the spot thought of the work at this time, better than we can hope to do it. The paragraph is as follows:—

“Mrs. Baeyertz, a young Jewish widow, who was

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brought to Christ a few years ago, is a flame of fire. She visits the factories, and has over 300 young women in her Bible class, at the Assembly Hall, each Wednesday evening. With but few exceptions, all these have received God's gift of eternal life in Christ. For some months she had addressed a crowded congregation at the Mission Hall, which I had erected at the close of last year. Over 100 have found Christ within a short time there, whilst the church members have been revived under her clear, earnest holding up of Christ over all and in all.”

Many of the factory girls were converted at this time, and the news of God's glorious outpouring of His Spirit spread far and wide. Scores of ministers heard of the work, and invitations to their churches poured in upon this young disciple.

But she declined all these invitations, as she was not clear in her mind as to her right to address mixed meetings. Then suddenly, great darkness of soul came over her. Her joy departed; her sense of blessing fled. What did all this mean?

She began to wonder if, after all, it was God's mind that she should take mixed meetings, and whether her refusal had caused God to give her this darkness to force her to face the great question as in his sight.

In her perplexity upon this point she wrote to a friend stating her difficulty. In reply, the friend sent her Our Coffee Room, by Miss Cotton (now Lady Hope). Mrs. Baeyertz had read but a few chapters

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when the Spirit clearly revealed to her soul what the mind of God was on this matter, as regarded herself, and kneeling down, she gave up her reputation to God. She told him she was willing to be misunderstood by all the world, if only she had His smile, that she would go anywhere, and do anything for Him.

God did not keep her waiting long. An invitation came from a Congregational minister to come and address his Sunday school and workers. She accepted the invitation and went.

To her amazement, and as she has confessed, somewhat to her horror, she found the church packed from end to end. Then, as though this was not enough, she found three ministers present.

These were the days when ministers wore the large white starched ties. The three men before her were tall big men, and with their long black coats, their solemn faces, and their huge white starched ties, they appeared to Mrs. Baeyertz like sons of Anak in her path.

But God took her heart, spoke to it, as he spoke to Galilee's stormy lake, and stilled it, and the peace of God which passeth all understanding kept her heart and mind stayed upon Him. He took her lips and filled them with His own message, so that there were two vestries filled with seekers after salvation. From that time invitations, to speak in various churches, flowed in faster than she could fulfil them, and she was now fairly launched upon the world as an Evangelist for God.

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CHAPTER XI.—GOLD MINING CENTRES.

“I often think I cannot spell

The lesson I must learn;

And then, in weariness and doubt,

I pray the page may turn;

But time goes on, and soon I find

I was learning all the while;

And words which seemed most dimly traced

Shine out with rainbow smile.

Sometimes the Master gives to me

A strange new alphabet!

I wonder what its use will be,

Or why it need be set.

And then I find this tongue alone

Some stranger ear can reach,

One whom He may commission me

For Him to train or teach.”

SANDHURST—the Bendigo of the old days—lies due north of Melbourne, and is one of the two great goldfields of Victoria. Scarce any other town in Australasia has had such a marvellous combination of experiences as Sandhurst. To quote the words of that graphic writer, Howard Willoughby, of the Melbourne Argus, “Its history is one of strange ups

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and downs. It has been deserted, and has been ruined; but the result is the fine city of to-day, with its broad, tree-lined streets, its splendid buildings, and high degree of commercial activity. As a recent writer puts it: `What vicissitudes has not the place undergone! From enormous wealth to the verge of bankruptcy; from the pinnacle of prosperity to the direst adversity; from financial soundness to commercial rottenness; and yet, with that wonderful elasticity and buoyancy which characterizes our goldfields, the falling ball has rebounded, the sunken cork has again come to the surface, and Sandhurst, after all her reverses, is perhaps now richer and on a safer basis than ever—a city whose wide, well-watered streets are perfect avenues of trees, bordered by handsome buildings and well-stocked shops, brilliantly lighted by gas; whose hotel accommodation is proverbially good; whose civic affairs are admirably regulated; whose citizens are busy, hospitable, and prosperous.'

“There is no mistake about the character of the town. Miles and miles of country before you enter it have been excavated and upturned by the alluvial digger. And there are few more desolate sights to be met with than a worked-out and deserted digging; for often nature refuses to lend her assistance, and does not hide the violated tract with trees or verdure. Ugly gravel heaps, staring mounds of `pipe-clay,' deposits of sludge, a surface filled with holes, broken

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windlasses—the wrecks of whims—all combine to make a hideous picture as they stand revealed in the pitiless sunshine.”

It was in this remarkable city, Sandhurst, that Mrs. Baeyertz conducted her first big mission. The meetings were held in a large theatre, which was constantly crammed with eager, curious audiences. People came, that they might secure seats, an hour-and-a-half before the time of service.

During the mission some Jews sent to the committee, asking whether a box could be reserved for them if they paid the usual fee for the favour. The committee, of course, refused the money, and replied that they would reserve a box for them, on condition that they would fill it with Jews. This they did most effectually.

How wonderful did that first mission appear to Mrs. Baeyertz. What tender, gracious dealings she experienced at God's hands! What lessons of untold worth was she taught by the tender divine Spirit.

The early days of her mission taught her, and taught thousands of God's children who were blessed at the time, the great truth that the power, the excellence was ALL of God, and that the instrument was nought, save an instrument, a tool.

Men marvelled at the wondrous power of the old Gospel in these Sandhurst meetings, and some talked of it as “new truth.” Why? Because men's minds were so suddenly changed. Yet the fact was that

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many of these men, for the first time in their lives, listened to the Gospel preached, and regarded it as something specially for them. As well might the quartz-crushers of Sandhurst call the gold that they took from the quartz new gold as to call the Gospel “new truth,” because under the power of the Holy Ghost its wonderful regenerating effects were seen in the lives of those who yielded themselves to it.

With the glow of this first big mission upon her, Mrs. Baeyertz next proceeded to Ballarat, another large mining centre, a hundred miles by rail north-east of Melbourne.

Ever since the discovery of alluvial gold in the Yarrowee Creek in 1851, Ballarat has been a name synonymous with gold in the minds of and on the tongues of financiers of the world. Its fortunes have not been so varied and extraordinary as those of Sandhurst, yet it, too, has had its days of comparative desertion. It is now a fine city, with much to make it attractive to others besides “diggers.”

Like a mighty health-giving lung, the Wendouree Lake is a source of pleasure as well as health to the dwellers in this gold centre. Within easy walking distance of the town, this lake is naturally a constant and favorite resort of people of all classes. Sailing boats, rowing skiffs, yacht-like little steamers, punts, and other aquatic modes of transit, give opportunity and pleasure to the lovers of water excursions, which are highly esteemed.

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Writing of Ballarat, Anthony Trollope said:—“It struck me with more surprise than any other city in Australia. It is not simply its youth, for Melbourne is also very young; nor is it the population of Ballarat which amazes, for it does not exceed a quarter of that of Melbourne, but that a town so well built, so well ordered, endowed with present advantages so great in the ways of schools, hospitals, libraries, hotels, public gardens, and the like, should have sprung up so quickly, with no other internal advantages of its own other than that of gold.”

The mission of Mrs. Baeyertz at Ballarat was even more wonderful than that at Sandhurst. Over a thousand persons gathered every afternoon at the Bible readings, and many Christians were quickened and refreshed by these meetings.

The large theatre was crowded night after night. On Sunday afternoon many brought their evening meal with them, and consented to be locked in the building until the time of the evening meeting, rather than lose their certainty of seats.

The municipal authorities prohibited vehicular traffic down the street in which the theatre was situated, as the crowds were so dense that all such traffic became dangerous in the extreme.

Here, more than ever before, did Mrs. Baeyertz realize what the mighty power of God could do. The anxious enquirers were so numerous that it was impossible for the workers to deal with all who stay behind.

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We have spoken of the somewhat ugly appearance of the approaches to Sandhurst and Ballarat, consequent upon the work or whims of surface or alluvial diggers in the earliest days of the history of the two towns. In spiritual mining—missions—should the work be merely superficial—only alluvial—the tracks left are more hideous than those left by the surface gold-digger. This was not the case with the two missions of which we have been writing, for there was much deep mining begun. Many a reef of spiritual quartz was struck in those days, that, instead of running out in a few days or weeks, opened up into the great inexhaustible “leads” of eternity.

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CHAPTER XII.—“HIS PURPOSES UNFOLDING FAST.”

“When He first the work begun,

Small and feeble was His day;

Now the Word doth swiftly run,

Now it wins its widening way;

More and more it spreads and grows,

Ever mighty to prevail;

Sin's strongholds it now o'erthrows,

Shakes the trembling gates of hell.

Saw ye not the cloud arise,

Little as a human hand?

Now it spreads along the skies,

Hangs o'er all the thirsty land.

Lo! the promise of a shower

Drops already from above;

But the Lord will shortly pour

All the spirit of His love!”

HOW often has God to teach the Christian worker that he is not limited in his purposes, but that it is the worker who would limit God; and this, not by intention on the part of the worker, but because of his limited, finite apprehension of what God may be purposing to do.

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When Mrs. Baeyertz left Ballarat to begin her mission at Adelaide, she proposed to herself, and the friends who had invited her to that place, that she would go for three months. God kept her there, full of constant labour, for three years. When we thus speak of Adelaide we mean the district.

The city of Adelaide itself is often styled the “fair city,” and certainly it deserves its title. Glenelg, where in 1836 Captain Hindmarsh landed from H.M.S. “Buffalo,” and read his commission as first governor of South Australia to the few officials who were gathered under the now historic gum tree, forms a kind of seaside suburb to the “fair city.”

The city itself is the capital of South Australia, and is crowded with natural as well as artificial beauties, which we dare not begin to describe here. Our work is to tell of the wonders of God's grace, to exhibit Jesus as the chief corner-stone of that wonderful building of God which is being prepared by the Gospel in every land. We have to do with living stones who shall adorn the heavenly Jerusalem when Adelaide's wonderful white freestone structures have mouldered into dust, or been purified by the fire of God's purifying.

As in the two previous towns, so here in the “fair city” the people crowded to hear Judah's daughter tell of the Shiloh who had come with His glorious message of “peace with God and good will towards men.” Once the town hall was filled twice in one night.

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It was at Adelaide that Mrs. Baeyertz first began her special meetings for men which have been so wonderfully blessed. They began in this way—women—mothers, wives, and sisters came continually to the meetings, and asked that special prayers might be made for their male relatives, whom they could not prevail upon to attend the meetings.

The question pressed so mightily upon the soul of Mrs. Baeyertz, that setting aside a certain time for dealing with the Lord about it, she laid all the matter before him, and besought His definite guidance.

After hours of communion and prayer she felt that she ought to have separate meetings for men, and seek to win them to come. What if they did come out of curiosity simply? The same Christ who saved curious Zaccheus, who “came to see Jesus who He was,” could save them.

The men's meetings were at once inaugurated under the circumstances recorded below. They were a glorious success, and have been continued ever since, their power and usefulness widening and deepening more and more in every place.

A most kindly, intelligent reporter from the Mail office, who interviewed Mrs. Baeyertz in Nelson, New Zealand, among other things, said:—“I see, Mrs. Baeyertz, that you hold meetings for men only; isn't that rather an innovation for a lady missioner?”

“I dare say it is,” she replied; “but don't you run away with the idea that I have anything different to

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say to the men to what I have to the women. If you care to hear, I will tell you how I came to address them separately. I firmly believe that through all my work God has led me step by step. It was in Adelaide that I commenced this innovation, as you call it. I was at the time holding a mission, and assisting one of the ministers. The church was full whenever I spoke, but like it is everywhere else—I suppose it is very much the same in Nelson—there were very few men present; so the minister consulted with me. `Can't we do something,' he asked, `to get the men to come? What do you say to holding a meeting for men only?'

“The very thing,” I replied, “about which I have been seeking guidance; I'll do it. And I did, and found it a great success; and that was how I adopted the plan. It has this great advantage, too, that among the poorer classes, where both the father and mother can't very well get away at the same time, one can come one night and one another.”

“Do you find that the same men come again and again?” asked our interviewer.

“Yes!” replied Mrs. Baeyertz. “I don't say it boastingly—I hope you will believe that—but if I once get them to come I know they will return. I never now consider my mission made until I have held my first men's meeting, for, until they come, I feel I have not got hold of the people. I don't know exactly why it is—perhaps because I have an absent

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son who is very dear to me—but the men seem to engage my sympathies, as I know they have many temptations to meet and overcome.”

The interest in the meetings in South Australia increased in every place. In Laura, the all-absorbing topics in the streets, in the shops, at home, travelling, everywhere, in fact, were those of personal salvation, and the Jewish lady who was preaching.

The Freemasons gave up their arranged meeting; the shops closed long before their usual hour; employers and employees, rich and poor, learned and illiterate, all alike crowded the meetings.

Whatever these crowds came out to see and hear; whatever the motive which prompted them in gathering, one thing was made manifest, namely, the power of the unseen Spirit of God. Like the wind which blowing where it listeth, the breath of the Divine Spirit passed over the hearts of the listening crowds at Laura, and bowed many of them in penitence before its unseen blast.

We cannot pause at every town where God led His handmaid's feet, but one South Australian item we must record. As a result of the work in Alberton, there were 100 persons received in one church. To God be the glory.

At the end of her three years work in South Australia, Mrs. Baeyertz returned to Melbourne, where an enormous demand for work was awaiting her, and new demands continued to pour in. For six months after

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her return to the metropolis, she preached in the large Theatre Royal every Sunday night. Here the conversions were very remarkable, not only from the point of numbers, but from the strange circumstances attending many of the cases.

At this time, Mrs. Baeyertz was receiving constant invitations to visit New Zealand. The invitations came from a lady, with whom, some years previously, she had been associated in Y.W.C.A. work in Melbourne. For years these calls had been coming, but Mrs. Baeyertz had always thrust the matter aside as too painful and far-fetched a thought to entertain.

Why should she go? Were there not already open doors close to home, more than she could enter? Besides, think of that awful voyage on the water; it was a week's sail from Melbourne, and a terribly rough coast. Then her son had married and settled in the neighbourhood, and she herself, with her daughter, was delightfully settled in a bright little home, where she could return and rest after her various missions. Under all these circumstances, Mrs. Baeyertz told herself that she did not think she was called upon to go afield, and on so painful a journey.

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CHAPTER XIII.—“I'LL GO, LORD, WHERE YOU WANT ME.”

“Not yet, thou knowest how I bid

Each passing hour entwine

Its grief or joy, its hope or fear,

In one great love design;

Nor how I lead thee through the night,

By many a various way,

Still upward to unclouded light,

And onward to the day.

Not yet thou knowest what I do

Within thine own weak breast,

To mould thee to My image true,

And fit thee for My rest.

But yield thee to My loving skill;

The veiled work of grace,

From day to day progressing still,

It is not thine to trace.”

THE heads of the gathered people were bowed. It was a solemn awe-inspiring moment, for the Spirit of God was moving mightily upon those silent, listening, waiting souls. It was a convention for Christians, held by God's precious servant, the Rev. H. B. Macartney. How wise, how inspiring, how searching, yet how

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tenderly sympathetic, had been the leader's words to the gathered saints!

Soft as a soul's whisper could be, yearningly tender as a suppliant's sigh, had the voices of the kneeling ones been lifted in prayer. And like the breath of an unseen breeze, God's silent, mighty, Spirit of power had come upon them in response, and had stripped their waiting souls of every refuge, and brought them face to face with their own shortcomings.

Mrs. Baeyertz was among those kneeling, praying ones. She lost sight of those around her; she forgot the leader of the meeting, his voice was unheard by her, for she saw God, she heard his voice. Every nerve and fibre of her spiritual being quivered and throbbed with holy desire, and, looking into the face of God, she whispered, “Lord, my Lord, how can I get nearer to Thee? How prove my love to Thee?”

Into the waiting silence there came, as it were, a real voice, speaking to her soul, and saying: “Will you go to New Zealand and America for me?”

Awed by the Divine emphasis of this hitherto refused New Zealand invitation, and more awed by this other awful word America, the listening handmaid murmured, “America, America, as well as New Zealand! But I know no one in that far-away land, and I have no invitation either.”

She dared not parley with the Voice of the waiting One, for she knew that it was God who had spoken,

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and who waited for her answer, and in the very words of the consecration hymn she cried:—

“I'll go, Lord; I'll go, Lord,

I'll go where you want me to go.”

Peace, infinite peace, followed her soul-promise, then she worked patiently on through all her arranged missions, assured that each new step would be clearly indicated by the gracious God whom she sought wholly to serve.

The call to Brisbane, Queensland, was after a time so evidently of the Lord, that she dare not refuse it, so prepared to go. The separation from her daughter, whom she had to leave behind in Melbourne, was unspeakably painful. To go forth utterly alone was a great trial to her, but she had yielded her all to God, and, however painful the path might be to the flesh, she never turned from it.

She arrived at Brisbane at six o'clock in the morning, wondering how God would deal with this place. The mission began in a very small way, but before the end of a fortnight, the large theatre was not big enough to hold the crowds who came. Ipswich, and other places in this district, had the same story to tell, but it would be wearying to the reader to repeat the story so often.

All through this period, the thought of America, and her promise to God, kept constantly recurring to her mind, and the burden of her prayer was “Lord

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if I am to go to America, make my child willing to go, for Thou knowest I cannot go alone. Open the way, Lord, then thrust me out.”

“Commit thy way unto the Lord, and He shall bring it to pass,” He has said. Mrs. Baeyertz believed this, and soon, very soon, there came a letter from her daughter from Melbourne, saying, “I do wish you would accept the invitation to New Zealand, and then go on through the States, home to England.”

On her way back to Melbourne, Mrs. Baeyertz was met by her daughter at Sydney, and together they talked over the arrangements for the American visit.

While in Sydney, Mrs. Baeyertz met one of God's leading servants, whom it became a great joy to her to know. This was Mr. David Walker, secretary to the Y.M.C.A. Mrs. Baeyertz took one service for him, for men, at which there was a gracious manifestation of God's power, and many of the men were converted. A friendship was also formed between Mr. Walker and Mrs. Baeyertz, that was at once a source of strength and blessing to the latter, such as she has ever been glad to praise God for.

Later pages will show how God used this new friend, Mr. Walker, to be His chosen instrument for opening the great American door for his handmaid.

Returning to Melbourne together, Mrs. Baeyertz and her daughter thought their home had never looked so bright, peaceful, and home-like before. The long journey they had just come through, was enough in

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itself to give them something of this feeling, but the remembrance that this would probably be their last sojourn within the loved walls, accentuated it.

The return home was followed also by a series of painful shrinkings on the part of Mrs. Baeyertz from the launching forth into the great unknown future of this American tour.

Her little study, the spot which had witnessed so many scenes of wrestling with God, now saw her prone at His feet, day after day, as she sought strength and courage, and guidance.

It seemed so hard to go out upon such a strange, unknown path; to leave the friends who had known and loved, cheered and counselled her for sixteen years or more; to leave her only son, too, from whom she had never been parted for any length of time before; to leave her brother and his family, to whom she was most tenderly attached. Sometimes her flesh failed her, and she would sob and cry: “I cannot, cannot go!”

Then her soul, all indwelt with the Spirit of Him who was crucified for her, would lift up its voice and cry, “Yes, Lord! Thou art with me, Thou wilt be with me all the way, and I'll go, Lord, go where you want me to go.”

Who is there among God's true saints who does not know something of such an experience as that of which we are writing? Of whom it might be said, as one has written something, “They asked for purity,

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and He sent them thrilling anguish; they had asked to be made meek, and He had broken their hearts; they had asked to be dead to the world, and He slew all their living hopes; they had asked to be made like unto Him, and He had placed them in the furnace; they had asked to lay hold of the cross, and when He reached it to them it lacerated their hands. They had asked, they knew not, or how, and He had taken them at their word, and granted them all their petitions. . . . Such are they, in all ages, who follow the Lamb whithersoever He goeth. Had they chosen for themselves, or their friends chosen for them, they would have chosen otherwise. But if they had halted anywhere, if He had taken off His hand and let them stray back, what would they not have lost? What forfeits in the morning of the resurrection?”

God did not “take His hand off” from Mrs. Baeyertz. He did not “let her stray back” from her promise, and with unfaltering faith she pushed on with her preparations for departure.

The last month in Australia came. Her home was given up. Then came the great farewell meeting, held in the Rev. Samuel Chapman's Church, Collin's Street, Melbourne. The Rev. Matthew Burnett, the great apostle of the temperance cause in Australia, the story of whose life-work for God is one great record of nineteenth century miracles of grace, has told of the wonders of this meeting.

After the Rev. Dr. Campbell, the Moderator of the

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Presbyterian Assembly, had spoken in the highest terms of the wonderful work which God had done through Mrs. Baeyertz, he called upon her to address the meeting. Having stated her purpose, led as she believed by God, of leaving first for New Zealand, then America, and thence for England, she earnestly requested the prayers of all.

Miss Booth, on behalf of the Y.W.C.A. paid a high tribute as to the lasting spiritual results of the work of Mrs. Baeyertz. Then came a presentation of a purse of gold, after which the Rev. John McNeill, the Presbyterian evangelist, spoke of her work from the point of view of a brother evangelist, turning at one point of his address to say, “Will ye no come back again?” Many other speeches followed, all testifying to the permanent spiritual results which followed her visits to the various centres from which the speakers came, and with loving commendations from all, to the universal Church of Christ, they sent her on her way, one minister having travelled 100 miles to be present.

There was a private meeting after this large gathering, composed of praying friends who wept while they prayed, and commended her to God's grace. It was at this private meeting that the Rev. John McNeill presented her with the circular letter, signed by fifteen of the leading clergymen and ministers of Melbourne.

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CHAPTER XIV.—TRIED AND PROVED PROMISES.

“Is this Thy chosen training for some chosen task unknown?

Is it that I may learn to rest upon Thy word alone?

Whate'er it be, oh! leave me not, fulfil Thou every hour

The purpose of Thy goodness, and the work of faith with power.

I lay my prayer before Thee, and trusting in Thy word,

Though all is silence in my heart, I know that Thou hast heard. To that blest city lead me, Lord (still choosing all my way),

Where faith melts into vision, as the starlight into day.”

ALONE in her cabin on board the “Pateena,” on the 31st December, 1889, Mrs. Baeyertz took leave of her son. He was the child of many prayers, and her heart was strained to its utmost tension as she bade him farewell. No eye but God's, no ear save His, saw or heard all that passed in those last sad moments. It is not for us to try to picture that interview.

The last good-byes, the last hand-waves from shore and ship, then the “Pateena” sailed for Launceston, Tasmania. It was New Year's Day when Mrs. Baeyertz and her daughter arrived. They were the guests of Mrs. Henry Reed of Mount Pleasant, with

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whom Mrs. Baeyertz had many times held missions. The last of these occasions was when she stayed for two months to keep up the Memorial Church services until Mr. George Soltan, the pastor, should arrive. When he did arrive, Mrs. Baeyertz had the joy of handing over to him a congregation of 1800, and 300 professed converts.

After a month spent in Hobart, Mrs. Baeyertz went on to Dunedin, arriving in February, where she was lovingly received by the lady who had written so persistently inviting her for so many years.

From an extract from the Dunedin Press we cull one sentence which must, in our limited space, suffice: “It is a matter of question amongst some of us who have taken active part in this most delightful mission, whether our sister has been more used in the conversion and bringing to decision the unsaved and the wavering, or in the reviving, refreshing, instructing, and establishing the souls of believers.”

Christchurch was the next place where God's hand led. From a column of a local newspaper we notice, among other items of deep interest, one or two paragraphs that may serve to illustrate some sides of the work there.

“Unlike most of the evangelists who have visited Christchurch,” says the writer, “ Mrs. Baeyertz has directed much of her time and teaching to those who are professedly Christians, in life as well as doctrine. Believing that to many who avowedly believe the

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truths of the Bible that book is partially sealed, she has patiently, and with very convincing power, disclosed what God would reveal to any searcher who honestly reads it. . . . The distinguishing feature of this part of Mrs. Baeyertz's work is the calmly logical manner in which she applies Bible truth. Given the assent of the individual to the principles of evangelical religion, she shews that a life in which the Christian virtues are exemplified ought necessarily to be the outcome. The failure in this she attributes to that want of communion with God, which believers in Him ought to have, but too seldom seek. No one can listen to her without feeling that her whole heart consents to the teaching she imparts. . . . . Apart altogether from her subject, she demands and receives the most rapt attention.”

Ashburton, Nelson, Wellington, Wanganui, and Auckland, besides other places, had the same story of power and blessing to record that had characterised the work in other places. At Auckland a remarkable tribute to a certain side of Mrs. Baeyertz's addresses is dwelt upon with evident pleasure and surprise by the local press. Speaking of one of her addresses, on the glory and the wrath of God, the writer says:— “Her power of describing the unseen world from her own imagination (based, of course, upon Scripture hints), have, perhaps, never been equalled, except by Mrs. Oliphant, in the Land of Darkness. Her language is simple, but very expressive, and without being lurid,

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she infuses plenty of colour into her descriptions. Without unduly pressing on the horrors of hell, she still strongly maintained that there was such a place, and quoted Scripture to prove her point. She closed with a fervid, passionate appeal to the vast audience to see that their names were written in the Book of Life.”

The whole mission was a never-to-be-forgotten time. “She arrived,” said another journal, “just at a moment when the spirits of men and women were depressed with strikes, turmoil, and conflicts; when individuals were brought face to face with themselves and their surroundings, and to reach the masses no more fitting opportunity could have presented itself. There are seasons in the history of most of us when we are more susceptible to religious impressions than others; when it becomes more than probable that we may listen to faithful warnings and pleadings; and we are persuaded that this visit of Mrs. Baeyertz has been one of those which God, in His goodness, has specially used to enable men to deal directly with themselves and to ascertain their true spiritual standing ground.”

Some idea of the interest created by the Auckland mission may be gathered from the statement of two facts—there were often 1,000 to 1,500 at the afternoon Bible readings; and so great were the crowds at night, that the newspapers warned parents to keep their children away from the precincts of the meeting place for fear of accidents.

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We must not omit a most gratifying tribute from the Jewish part of the Auckland community. At the close of one of her meetings the Jewish Rabbi stepped up to the carriage, and, with his head uncovered, thanked her on behalf of the Jews, whom he represented, for her noble tribute to the nation, and the glorious future awaiting them, and thanking her on their behalf for her visit to Auckland.

The New Zealand Graphic gave an excellent portrait of Mrs. Baeyertz, besides alloting considerable space to accounts of her work. A most enthusiastic meeting of a valedictory character was held at the Y. M. C. Association, at which a handsome presentation was made to her, in the shape of an engraved folio, with hand-painted views of the magnificent harbour.

She had been nine months in all in New Zealand, and letters had been coming for some time from Melbourne, asking her to return to Victoria. This she would gladly have done, but she could get no word from the Lord to that effect. She was, therefore, shut out from everything but the American prospect.

In Wellington Mrs. Baeyertz secured the passages of herself and daughter for San Francisco; yet with the remembrance that this step would launch her upon a more unknown, isolated experience than any which she had yet ventured upon, she felt an earnest desire to be assured by a direct word of the Lord that she was doing right. Waiting definitely upon Him

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for this purpose, she cried, “Lord, do not let me make any mistake, give me now Thy direct word.” She then opened her Bible, and her eye lighted on the words, “When He putteth forth His own sheep He goeth before them.” This was sufficient. She went down and took the passages in the “Zealandia.”

There was yet another beautiful experience of God's presence with His child that was to be given to her, the reading of which will, doubtless, encourage many perplexed souls.

A few nights before their sailing, Mrs. Baeyertz was sitting thinking of the long sea-voyage before her, of the three weeks alone with her child, upon what might prove a tempestuous sea, and of the final landing upon an unknown shore, without a soul to meet or to welcome them, and with no friend to go to when they had landed. As she thought of all this, the darkness of a great horror came down upon her, and in an abject terror of soul she knelt, and with strong cries and tears made supplication to God. “Lord, speak to me!” she cried. “Lord, comfort me!”

With her eyes still closed she opened her Bible. Then opening her eyes, she saw that the exhibited page was in Job. “Job!” she murmured; “there can be nothing in Job for me, at such a time as this.”

But there was! For the first words upon which her glad eye rested was the message of God, “He shall

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deliver thee in six troubles, yea, in SEVEN, there shall no evil touch thee.”

Calling her daughter from another room, she said, “how many sea-voyages have we been since we left Melbourne?”

“Six!” replied her daughter.

“Then here's a promise for the seventh,” continued Mrs. Baeyertz. “Praise the Lord! We shall have calm trip.”

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CHAPTER XV.—NO LADIES NEED APPLY.

“For rapture of love is linked with the pain or fear of loss,

And the hand that takes the crown must ache with many a cross;

Yet he who hath never a conflict hath never a victor's palm,

And only the toilers know the sweetness of rest and calm.

Only between the storms can the Alpine traveller know

Transcendant glory of clearness, marvels of gleam and glow;

Had he the brightness unbroken of cloudless summer days,

This had been dimmed by the dust and the veil of a brooding haze.

Who would dare the choice, neither or both to know,

The finest quiver of joy or the agony-thrill of woe?

Never the exquisite pain, then never the exquisite bliss,

For the heart that is dull to that can never be strung to this.”

IF love of friends, if universal respect could in any measure sweeten the hour of her departure from New Zealand, then these things awaited Mrs. Baeyertz on the wharf. Hundreds had gathered to say “good-bye,” and “God speed.” As the vessel moved off, the vast crowd sang, “God be with you till we meet again!” The voices were often choked with sobs, but the prayer of the singing hearts was very real.

Gradually the faces of her farewellers grew blurred

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and indistinct, but Mrs. Baeyertz's heart leaped upward in grateful love for the expressed affection of all.

“Good-bye, dear Australia!” her heart cried out. “When, oh when, shall I see you again?”

Wider and wider grew the distance between the ship and the shore, and the full consciousness that she was at last really started upon this unknown, untried path, filled her with a momentary sadness.

“I am not alone,” she mused, “in this great undertaking, for my precious child has now to share in all the discomforts and difficulties of travel and sojourning in strange places.”

Then, as the voice of her Lord spoke to her heart, she murmured, “No, I am not alone! My Saviour is with me to cheer and to uphold.”

When the last look at the land had been taken, and she went in to her cabin, which was on the deck, here afresh she was reminded of the friends from whom she had parted. They had left beautiful footsteps behind them in the ship, that her heart might be cheered while she traced their love tracks. The cabin was laden with flowers, fruits, pictures, photographs, and other tokens of affectionate thought. There were also letters and telegrams from many of the towns she had visited in New Zealand.

Everything about those first days of the voyage was restful. The passage was calm and quiet, and like a gracious benediction, the promise of her God kept the soul of Mrs. Baeyertz in perfect peace.

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One morning early she was awakened by some most unearthly yellings and howlings, and found that the vessel had arrived at Honolulu, and the yellings were from the Hawaiian bumboat men and others. Whilst dressing—this about half-past six—the steward handed in a card to Mrs. Baeyertz. “A card for me!” she said to herself. “I know no one here.”

“Dr. and Mrs. Whitney,” the card said; and the owners of the two names explained a little later, that having heard of the coming of Mrs. Baeyertz and her daughter, they had decided to come to the vessel and greet them in the name of the Lord.

There was no mistaking the heartiness and sincerity of the offered friendship, and the two voyagers were soon perfectly at home with their two new friends. To the shore was the first move, and here the carriage of Dr. Whitney waited for them.

After a long drive, and an animated talk on many congenial topics, they went back to their home to breakfast. How novel it all was. The waiter was a Chinaman, dressed in a linen suit of dazzling whiteness. The breakfast, a marvellous combination of delicious tropical fruits, and choice Hawaiian dishes.

After breakfast came another drive through a perfectly earthly paradise. Everything was new to the eyes of the two visitors—everything was beautiful. There for the first time they saw rice and sugar-cane growing; cocoa-nuts and bananas were everywhere.

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They drove through a magnificent avenue of grand old date palms, in the hospital grounds.

This meeting with Dr. and Mrs. Whitney was not only a great refreshment to Mrs. Baeyertz, but a great means of strengthening her faith. Had not God said that in “thrusting her out, that He would go before her, and was not this a clear answer to His promise. He had used His two dear servants to express His love, and fulfil His word. “Never, never can I forget their love and kindness,” says Mrs. Baeyertz, when she speaks of this time.

Greatly encouraged by this token of Divine remembrance to “go forward,” mother and daughter once more embarked, and the vessel speeded on toward the Golden Gate of San Francisco.

The last day of the voyage, before arriving, Mrs. Baeyertz spent in prayer for guidance and strength, and all needed grace for meeting the unknown.

On landing, she drove at once to an hotel, feeling a strange sense of loneliness and difficulty about her position, though assured that “in some way or other the Lord would provide.”

“Lord, what wilt Thou have me now to do?” she prayed. In reference to her prayer she was impressed to write a note to a Mr. McCoy, Secretary of the Y. M. C. A. He replied to her note in person, but though very kind, he was candid in his verdict, “there was no opening for a lady in connection with their Association.”

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What did this mean? Had she mistaken God's leading? “No!” her heart repeated, “God would not let me so persistently mistake Him as to bring me here and leave me with every door closed against me.” Yet there came no light, no opening. But there was the word of her God to her soul amid her difficulty—“Stand still and know that I am God!”

Obeying the Divine voice, she waited calmly for the moving of the pillar of cloud. The waiting lasted two days. Then Mr. McCoy called again. Since his last visit he had heard from Sydney, from Mr. David Walker, the secretary of the Y. M. C. A. of that city, of whom special mention has been made in Chapter XIII. of this book.

“Mr. Walker tells me, Mrs. Baeyertz, that your services are much blessed to young men,” said Mr. McCoy. Now, next week is our week of prayer for them. Will you consent to hold meetings every night next week for men only?”

Here was God's gracious response to His hand maid's faith—“Faithful is he who hath promised who also will perform.” Souls were saved at every meeting of that week's mission among men. The week's result was fifty.

The door of the Lord had opened, therefore there was blessing. HE had opened it, therefore no man could close it.

An invitation now came from the minister of the First Baptist Church, and a really marvellous time followed.

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CHAPTER XVI.—“NOT CREEDS BUT CHRIST.”

“Give me to walk with girded garments white,

The understanding heart, to read aright

Thy word, Thy law, Thy will, my soul's delight,

That I may be

More like Thyself, Lord Jesus; more like Thee!

Grant me Thy Spirit's might to bring the blind

To Thy dear feet, Thy light and peace to find,

And sin-forged fetters from the dead unbind:

I ask to be

More like Thyself, Lord Jesus; more like Thee!

Give me a baptism of glowing love,

Thy power and presence wheresoe'er I rove:

And my last prayer, all other prayers above—

Oh, give to me

More of Thyself, Lord Jesus; more of Thee!”

LOS ANGELES, California, spoke out through its Press with no uncertain sound, when in speaking of Mrs. Baeyertz's next visit, the Los Angeles Churchman says:—“A month ago it would hardly have seemed possible for a lone woman, a converted Jewess, to have come into this city, unknown and almost unheralded,

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and begin a series of Bible readings and doctrinal sermons to a few score people in the unfinished Y. M. C. A. Hall, and in two weeks' time pack to the doors the largest church in the town with over four thousand people. Yet such is the case, and Mrs. Baeyertz is the woman. Nor was it newspaper notoriety. Almost nothing appeared in the papers; the growth came from the interest excited by the merits of the woman herself. Her profound knowledge of Scripture; her spiritual perception of its truths; her soundness in the faith of Christ; her aptness, grasp, pathos, boldness, hard common sense, freedom from cant, made one feel that they were listening to a Jewish prophetess. The Scriptures are a new book to many through her teachings, and the unity of the Old and New Testament in testifying to the Lord Jesus as the Messiah who is to restore all things is fully established in their minds. . . . It is especially gratifying to notice how the Jews flock to hear her, and how faithfully she proclaims the message that Christ is the true Messiah, the King of the Jews. How touching her appeals to her own people, `who are Israelites;' to whom pertaineth the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the law, and the service of God, and the promises. Whose are the fathers, and of whom, as concerning the flesh, Christ came, who is over all, God blessed for ever!”

God was verily with her from the beginning of her visit to the vast continent of America. Without the

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remotest thought that she would ever visit this great nation, she had yet had her heart drawn out to its people (its women more especially) long years before. She told to a few friends in Southern California how this longing came about. “Some years ago,” she said, “a picture fell into my hands while living in Melbourne, which gave me a very earnest desire to know American women. The pictures represented those women of the great Temperance Crusade kneeling in the snow praying as the snow fell upon them in front of the saloons. As I looked upon this picture, and recognised what such an act as that meant, I said to myself, `There must be some grand stuff in such women as those!' and I devoutely prayed `God bless the Crusade Women of America.'”

While in Southern California Mrs. Baeyertz was called to pass through a season of great trial. Her daughter was stricken down with malaria. Her case became very critical, and with anguished heart the mother watched and nursed her through many weary days and nights. Up through the thick black cloud of her sorrow, and out beyond into the clear blue of Trust's firmament, did the mother-prayer rise to God—“Oh, Father! if it be possible, spare my child. Thou knowest how precious she is to me, and how amid a world of difficulties she so comforts me. O, spare her to me, my Father, for Jesus sake.”

An answer of peace came to the heart of the pleading

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mother, and her quick eye of love soon discerned an improvement in her sick child.

Recovery was very slow, but there was real recovery, so that by-and-by the convalescent was able to travel by easy stages to Chicago.

Then came an invitation to Hamilton and Toronto, Canada, whither they went in due time. The kindness of the Canadian friends stands out in the memory of Mrs. Baeyertz as one of the sunniest spots in a career of travel that is as thickly studded with such sunny memories as is a forest with trees.

At Toronto, Mr. McCullach, secretary of the Y. M. C. A., had arranged for a Mission, and Mr. and Mrs. Henry O'Brien opened their home as wide as their hearts, and took in Mrs. Baeyertz and her daughter. The Toronto press writing of this Mission, among other things, ventures to do what we have not attempted—to describe Mrs. Baeyertz personally. This may be of such real interest to those who shall read this book, who may never see the original, that we think it wise to insert it:—

“Mrs. Baeyertz is of Hebrew extraction, and was once an adherent of the Jewish faith. She is a middle-aged lady, of striking presence—erect and commanding in figure, though not tall; with a dark countenance, brown eyes, firm chin, and characteristic nose. Her face is one that would arrest attention in a crowd. It is full of character—strong, eager, and expressive; and when lit up by the fire of her emotions while she

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is speaking, it is quite beautiful. But Mrs. Baeyertz's power is not in her presence. She is a most effective speaker. Her voice is one of rare sweetness and power, and she uses it like an experienced orator. She has a good command of choice, nervous English, and she speaks with directness, simplicity, and clearness, avoiding subleties of argument and obscure allusions. Earnestness and burning zeal stamp all her utterances, and there is no doubt that she speaks from the depths of profound religious conviction, a fervent love for human souls, and an intense devotion to the cause she is seeking to promote. Mrs. Baeyertz is evidently proud of her Jewish extraction. Twice she referred to it last evening, and both times with an emphasis of voice and manner which was singularly impressive. `I am one of God's chosen,' she said, `one of the seed of Abraham, the friend of God; and yet I have had need to be born again before I could be saved and gain eternal life. How much more do you Gentiles need to be born again!' And once again she said, `I was brought up a strictly religious Jewess. My father was an orthodox Jew. On the day of atonement I fasted, and did all I could do for the atonement of my sins, and I lived up to the strict tenents of my faith. I will never allow anyone to speak in my presence disrespectfully of Judaism. I love it, and respect it. Christianity is not antagonistic to Judaism, but it is supplementary to it, and a fulfilment of it. To the Jews of old it was said that the

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life was in the blood, and that the blood on the altar makes atonement for sin. This is just what Christianity teaches: life is found in the blood of Jesus Christ through atonement.'

“Speaking of the new Birth, she said, `There is no mystery about the new Birth. Birth means life, and when we are born again, it means that we have received another life in addition to the life received from our parents. This is life eternal. It is impossible to be born again apart from Jesus Christ. We must get into direct contact with Christ in order to receive the gift of eternal life. What I love about the Christian religion is that it does not depend upon creeds and doctrines for its life, but upon a living and loving Person. Creeds and doctrines may have made Christendom, but they never made one Christian; only the living Christ can do that. Apart from the new Birth we cannot love God. Heaven itself would be unbearable to the soul that did not possess this eternal life; it could not endure the celestial atmosphere of God's presence.'”

We have quoted some of these things in this chapter because there are some mighty truths stated in the simplest language. The few words we have italicised above should be written upon all our hearts; inscribed upon every church roll; carved upon the foundation-stone of every house of prayer; printed upon every convention circular; above all, be made the rule of all our life and intercourse. Then would

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there die the last sectarian feud; in one great common grave would be bundled the schism of isms, and then, too, would Christ's prayer be fulfilled—“That they (who believe on Me through Thy word) may be one; as Thou, Father, art in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that Thou hast sent Me.”

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CHAPTER XVII.—IN THE “HUB OF THE UNIVERSE.”

“Such the sowing; what the reaping? Many a full and precious ear

Waved and ripened, fair and early, for the patient sower's cheer.

Not without some gracious witness of God's faithfulness and love,

Toiled they, waiting for the coming of the harvest home above;

Word, and prayer, and song, and leaflet, found though after many days,

Quickening energy and courage, brightening hope and wakening praise.

Yet how many a seed seemed trodden underfoot, and left to die,

Lost, forgotten by the sower, never traced by human eye;

Many a worker, meekly saying, `Lord, how thankful will I be,

If but one among a thousand may bring forth good fruit to Thee!'”

BOSTON, proudly styled “The Hub of the Universe,” has always prided itself upon its culture, its learning, its discernment of what is true and good in the utterances of those who visit its city, and who there lift their voices on their favorite themes. Thither with her Lord's message of salvation went Mrs. Baeyertz after that first trip to Canada.

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What had Boston to say about God's handmaid?

Under the heading of “A Hebrew Prophetess,” the celebrated Rev. Dr. A. J. Gordon wrote in The Watchword:—

“We count it among the most significant signs of the times that so many women are moved by the Spirit of God to tell out the story of redemption, and to lend their help in the work of gathering in the harvest of souls. At home and abroad as missionaries and evangelists, as Bible readers and tract distributors, the number of Christian women who are doing the Lord's work is constantly increasing. The Psalmists' prediction seems to be literally fulfilled before our eyes—`The Lord giveth the word: The women that publish the tidings are a great host.' Psalm xviii.: 11 (revised version). We believe, in spite of the seeming prohibition of Paul, that the spirit of God calls and commissions women to be evangelists, and to tell out the story of the cross. What else can be the meaning of the words of Joel reiterated by Peter on the Day of Pentecost, `And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of My Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy . . . . and on My servants and on My handmaidens I will pour out in those days of My Spirit, and they shall prophesy.' `Prophesy' means not to foretell necessarily, but to forthtell, to witness for Christ unto the people.”

After a few other lines, dealing with Mrs. Baeyertz's

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mission in the city, Dr. Gordon continues—“Her addresses upon Cain and Abel, upon the Passover, upon the Second Coming of Christ, and the Restoration of Israel, were very instructive and powerful. Her presentation of the Gospel made a deep impression upon the unconverted. Clear, uncompromising, and most tender in her setting forth of the way of life, she could not fail to rouse the careless, and win the unsaved. Not a few among us give evidence of having been savingly converted under her addresses, and many Christians have been helped and established. We rejoice that in these days of lax theology and feeble preaching of the doctrines of grace such a witness has been raised up; so sound, so clear, so fearless in her setting forth of the utter ruin of human nature, and salvation alone through the vicarious death of Jesus Christ, `who is over all God blessed for evermore.' We wish her great success in her future missions, and pray that God will greatly use her, as in the past, to strengthen Christians, and to win the unsaved.”

During the period occupied in writing the MSS. for this book, we were engaged in conversation with a very gifted, God-honoured, well-known servant of Christ in this country, who, speaking of the many strange things which characterize this age, spiritually, said, “I do not believe there is a single passage of New Testament writing that warrants women preaching, but rather that all the New Testament is against it; yet I cannot but see and feel that God is most

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graciously, wonderfully using women for the evangelization of the world.”

“How, then, do you reconcile the two statements,” we asked?

The reply prompt, clear, unhesitatingly was, “I believe that the Church as a corporate body has lost its power and testimony, and since God's first-chosen instrument has from various causes and in a variety of ways rendered itself unfit for, out of the way of service for the Great Master Builder, he must needs use other instruments, so that the Church, as a corporate body, may recognise her failure.”

Be this personal opinion a sound one or not, is not for us to attempt to decide here, but one thing is absolutely certain, God does and is using His handmaidens all over the world for the conversion of sinners and the building up of saints in a most remarkable, and, we might almost say, wholesale manner. For ourselves, we go head, heart, and soul with the testimony of Dr. Gordon, as quoted above.

While dealing with this matter, we notice in a letter which appeared in the Quebec Morning Chronicle, under date September 29th, 1891, that the Bishop of Nelson, New Zealand, writing to a friend in the United States, said, among other things relative to Mrs. Baeyertz's work:—“Notwithstanding all that is said upon the opposite side, I could not if I had the power dissuade her from what cordially receives the Divine blessing; but her action and the conduct of her services disarm

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all opposition that should arise, and the Lord certainly confirms the Word as spoken by her with signs.

Notices in the columns of the New Zealand press state that the Bishop not only countenanced Mrs. Baeyertz's meetings by his presence on the platform, but also assisted in the prayers.

In this connection we cannot resist the temptation to quote a beautiful paragraph written by the Rev. J. Macpherson in that wonderful book of his, Revival and Revival Work. On page 49 of this book, which is at once a fascinating delight and a spiritual inspiration to the Christian reader, he says:—“In the conversion of a sinner there is an infinite disproportion between the spiritual result and the instrumentality employed. Apart from the immediate operation of the Holy Spirit, the most splendid effort of genius is but the gleaming of a sword without an arm to wield it. And yet the weakest of the `weak things' employed by the Spirit is in itself a power. A mind informed with Divine knowledge, a heart purified and sweetened by grace, a faith that pierces the spirit-world with a keener eye than genius, a love at once in harmony with absolute holiness and in sympathy with the most abject child of sin, a voice sustained by omnipotent intercessions within the veil, combine to form the spiritual worker, whose conscious feebleness is a mighty power in that higher sphere in which unsanctified wisdom is foolishness, and the forces of the natural man are only spent in beating the air.”

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In her recognition of her place in the ranks of God's workers, Mrs. Baeyertz always expresses herself so deeply conscious of the truths so clearly stated in the first half of the above quotation, that one might readily expect to find that God would honour her labours with a large measure of success.

Though tempted to dwell longer upon this subject, we hasten on with the story of Mrs. Baeyertz's movements.

Describing one of her meetings, a local daily gives one or two quotations from her address upon “Consecration,” which may well form a Boston item in this place. “She took,” says the local press, “her place at the reading-desk, conducted the devotional exercises, announced that she would speak in the evening to women and girls, and then made `Consecration' her theme, based on Romans xii., 1—`I beseech you, therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.' This is a beautiful holiness chapter all through, she said. It is a very practical thing the presentation of the body. . . . Consecrated hands must not touch questionable things; after playing a game of cards once, I was in darkness for six weeks. Holiness consists in a practical life, and in a life of unbroken communion with God; to have communion with Christ we must be like Him in character. We want to be holy, because we are made for companionship with the Lord

Jesus Christ; we get to be like Christ by living with Him. Quoting from 1 John, third chapter and second verse—`Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when He shall appear we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is,' she pronounced Him with such a marked emphasis as to give the passage a fresh meaning.

“This blessed truth refers to the Lord's second coming. People are not asked to consecrate themselves to the Lord until they are converted. Mrs. Baeyertz then read copiously from the Old Testament, showing the need of entire consecration. About ten years ago, she said, the Lord taught me the secret of deliverance, and He has enabled me to enter into a blessed life, a life lived with Jesus. The God of the Old Testament to me is the God of the New Testament—just the very words spoken under a new dispensation. Just what He says of the Jews of old is binding on us. I don't think there is enough fear in the hearts of God's children, a fear of grieving the Spirit. What is said to the Jews of old about fear is helpful to us; we can live a life that will bring us into a living touch with Christ Jesus; he watches the life, and the man or woman who lives in obedience to Him loves Him best; we must obey the Word of God. The very first step in this holy life is consecration; obedience is the path of holiness, as it is the way to God's will; what we want more and more is

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the opening of God's Word. There is the privileged side of consecration; if people knew what consecration is there would be more joy, more songs in the night.”

The mission at Boston concluded, Mrs. Baeyertz rested during the intense heat of the hot season. The place she chose for this resting was a lovely seaside resort, where the ocean's feet laved the “murmuring fringe” of “the world's wide street.” The calm and rest of this little season was, indeed, the greatest physical blessing that could come to Mrs. Baeyertz. It was

“Like the breath of better lands,

Like the help of higher hands,

Like the light of blessed bands,”

and served to fit and nerve her for the mighty season which lay before her.

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CHAPTER XVIII.—“LOST IN WONDER, LOVE, AND PRAISE.”

“I did not ask Him for a harp,

And yet a harp He gave;

His praise was slumbering in my heart,

Like whispers 'neath the wave.

The storm that rent the hidden rock

Ere from its cave it tore,

The pearl and weed the billows cast

Alike upon the shore.

. . Thou hast tuned the silver strings

That once thy tempest wrung,

And bade responsive echoes wake

In gladness to the song.

And sinking souls have loved the theme;

Lord I can bless Thy hand

Which ruled the thunder that awaked

The chords at Thy command!”

WHEN in the midst of her Boston mission, Mrs. Baeyertz received an invitation from the general Secretary of the Y. M. C. A., Toronto, asking her to return for another mission there. She replied, “Yes if you will open up the whole of Canada.” This he did, and it was in view of this great round of meetings

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that she found the seaside rest, after the Boston missions so helpful.

But before starting again for Canada she took a trip to Cambridge to see Longfellow's house. The poet was not there. His soul had already soared away, but his memory, his deeds, his burning words were left. In the language of his own Psalm of Life he has told the world that—

“Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time.”

Thus unconsciously to himself he bid us trace his footsteps, and so shape our lives

“. . . . perhaps another,

Sailing over life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.”

It was with a heart full of the deep sense of earnestness of the poet's own life that Mrs. Baeyertz entered his house. Almost it seemed that his voice echoed in her footfalls, speaking his own words—

“Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal.”

By kind favour Mrs. Baeyertz was permitted to see the study just as he had left it, with the chair presented him by village children, and which had been

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made of wood from the identical “spreading chestnut tree,” under which he had told before that “The village smithy stands.”

How truly dumb things find a voice at such times as this! The chair seemed indwelt by the spirit of the poet's song, and to whisper—

“Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,

Onward through life he goes;

Each morning sees some task begun,

Each evening sees its close;

Something attempted, something done,

Has earned a night's repose.”

“The old clock on the stairs” was still in the same place as when its late owner wrote—

“Half-way up the stairs it stands,

And points and beckons with its hands

From its case of massive oak,

Like a monk, who, under his cloak,

Crosses himself, and sighs Alas!

With sorrowful voice to all who pass,—

`For ever—never!

Never—for ever!'

“Through days of sorrow and of mirth,

Through days of death and days of birth,

Through every swift vicissitude

Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood,

And as if, like God, it all things saw,

It calmly repeats those words of awe,—

`For ever—never!

Never—for ever!'”

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Time, in that old clock ticked on, but he whose hand wrote of the old time-piece had passed from Time, and had begun Eternity. Gazing upon the dial face, listening to the “tick, tick,” and remembering how the old clock still told its story, while so many who had read its face in byegone days were now no more, a new significance seemed to be attached to the words—

“All are scattered now and fled

Some are married, some are dead;

And when I ask, with throbs of pain,

`Ah! when shall they all meet again?'

As in the days long since gone by

The ancient timepiece makes reply,—

`For ever—never!

Never—for ever!'”

Mrs. Baeyertz left the house of the poet, and presently passed on to the great work waiting her in Canada.

In that quaintest of all quaint towns—Quebec—Mrs. Baeyertz once more saw the power of the Lord manifested in the salvation of precious souls. Upon the monument of Wolfe in this city is inscribed, “Here died Wolfe victorious!” But upon many redeemed lives, the result of Mrs. Baeyertz's mission in that place, there was henceforth inscribed, “Here lives Christ Jesus the victorious, resurrection Lord of life and glory.”

Up and down Quebec's steepest steps, along its

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narrow crooked streets, the people hurried in throngs to the meetings, so that a local paper said:—“Perhaps the Hall of the Young Men's Christian Association was never more crowded than it was last evening to hear Mrs. Baeyertz's address on the `Great White Throne.'”

The same journal speaking of that particular address said:—“Mrs. Baeyertz went on to speak of the two resurrections: the first when Christ comes, and those who have died trusting in the atonement of Christ will be raised from amongst the dead; the second would not take place until after the thousand years of Christ's reign on the earth. There were to be four judgments, the first of believers, which took place on Calvary's cross; the second is the judgment-seat of Christ, before which none but believers will stand, and they will be judged for their works, or every service done by them for Christ since they have been converted; the third judgment is the judgment of nations, when Jesus comes to the earth, to the Jews, and when whole nations will be rewarded for kindness shown to the Jews. The speaker here contrasted the treatment of the Jews by Russia and Great Britain, and asked her audience to mark the difference between the two nations in all that goes to make national peace, contentment and happiness, instancing also the terrible famine in Russia following so soon after the persecution of the Jews. The fourth judgment was the last and final judgment of the wicked dead, the

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judgment of the Great White Throne, which would not take place until the thousand years were passed, and till the whole world is filled with the knowledge of God as the waters cover the sea. No one who had been converted to God would meet at the judgment of the Great White Throne, only those whose names were not written in the Lamb's book of life. . . . The address was a masterpiece of eloquence and force, and was closed with a solemn appeal to her audience.”

Mrs. Baeyertz always speaks of the kindness of the Quebec friends as something phenomenal, even where, as in her case, the people of almost every place have seemed to lay themselves out in every conceivable way of showing their love and affection. Morning after morning, before she was up, invitations were sent her for drives during the day. Flowers and fruits were showered upon her, and in fact Love's mountain in Quebec showed an epidemic of avalanches, which have buried her ever since under a debt of gratitude she can never fully estimate or repay.

But here, as elsewhere, good-byes had to be said. The last word to the converts was given; the last loving exhortation to the believers was uttered; the last thanks were passed to all the loving friends; a last tour round the quaint town was made, with an audibly uttered “Praise God!” at the sight of Father Chiniquy's old church, the remembrance of his wonderful deliverance from Rome's thrall, and, above all, for his glorious testimony and faithfulness to the

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Truth as it is in Jesus. Then with renewed determination, she turned her face towards Ottawa, the capital of the Dominion, and the place of her next advertised mission.

The work here proved to be of an almost more remarkable character than that of any previous mission. It was one long series of victories of the mighty, conquering, saving Jesus. Our space will only permit us to note a few of the leading features of this remarkable fourteen days, though the local press needed scores of columns to record what they felt ought to be generally known.

“Totally devoid of sensationalism, of quiet dignified manner, and exercising a marked influence over her hearers; such was Mrs. Baeyertz, the Jewish Evangelist. She addressed over 2,000 persons last night in the Dominion Church.”

This was the press introduction of the woman and her work. “Nearly all the Protestant clergymen of the city were present, either on the platform or in the audience,” reports another paper.

“The fact,” says another journal, “that Knox Church was well filled again last evening to hear Mrs. Baeyertz, while outside the rain was coming down in torrents, is the best evidence that this earnest convert from Judaism has a hold on the affections of the people, not usually gained by one coming among us entirely unknown.”

The night after that which was thus reported, one

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of the most remarkable meetings ever held in that or any other city, was gathered within the vast walls of Knox Church. It was for women and girls only. One of the newspapers in reporting said:—

“Standing near the corner of Elgin and Albert Streets last evening (Thursday), and watching the steady stream of women of every age and class pouring in to Knox Church, one could but think, `surely there must be some unusual power here to call together such a multitude.' Rarely has this or any building in Ottawa held such an audience. Every available seat was filled, even the pulpit steps being made to do the duty in this respect; many could find only standing room, and many were obliged to go away. There were over two thousand present.

“For more than an hour Mrs. Baeyertz kept her audience spell-bound. In simple, yet beautiful language, with an utterance refined and sweet, yet so distinct as to be perfectly audible in the farthest corner of the building, she presented the truths of the Gospel, urging upon those who had not already done so to accept the Lord Jesus Christ as their personal Saviour.

“A deep solemnity pervaded the assembly, and when the invitation was given to those who were seeking Christ to remain after the close of the first meeting, hundreds kept their seats. Of these it is believed that fifty at least accepted Christ.” The next day, the afternoon meeting was held in the Dominion Church,

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and so densely was it packed, that orders had to be given to close the doors, and admit no one else except Mrs. Baeyertz, who had not arrived. This was done, and presently gave rise to a most amusing incident. When Mrs. Baeyertz did arrive, in company with the president of the Y. M. C. A., under whose auspices the meetings were being held, she was admitted, but he was shut outside, and it took some time to persuade the door-keeper that his place was upon the other side of the door.

Among those who remained, as anxious ones, to the after meeting, on the last night of this wonderful mission, were three doctors, besides many others, well known in the city, not generally found at evangelistic meetings.

Wearied in body, but with a glow of holy joy in her soul, Mrs. Baeyertz finished the work God gave her to do in Ottawa. One of the leading journals of the Dominion, speaking of this work, said, among many other things:—

“It was a wise sage who said, `She who, in the Bethlehem manger, gave Jesus to the world, will yet be the foremost agent in carrying Jesus to all nations, And so it seems in the case of Mrs. Baeyertz, the converted Jewess. . . . . Her fourteen days' mission in Ottawa has come and gone, leaving results which have caused many hearts to overflow with thankfulness. Night after night the interest seemed to deepen, the crush at some of the meetings being so great that

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hundreds were turned away; night after night individual cases of conversion were manifest, and the diverse character of those who remained to the after meetings, was, in itself, a proof of the adaptation of Christianity to all sorts and conditions of men. Ladies and gentlemen of rank and influence, working men and women, old and young, rich and poor, remained to the after meeting with but one thought, `What must I do to be saved?'

“That a thorough work was done in the soul of almost every seeker, was due, in a great measure, to Mrs. Baeyertz's excellent method of dealing with that class. She puts the Word of God into their hands, and waits for the Spirit to burn it into their souls, believing that the Spirit and the Word are the two great agents in the regeneration of a soul.”

“Certainly I will be with thee!” God had given her, before she left Australia, as an assurance to her troubled soul. And now again, as she left Ottawa, after this wondrous manifestation of His power, her soul sang:—

“Certainly I will be with thee! Starry promise in the night!

All uncertainties, like shadows, flee away before its light.

Certainly I will be with thee! HE hath spoken: I have heard!

True of old, and true this moment, I will trust Jehovah's word.”

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CHAPTER XIX.—LAMP, PITCHER, AND TRUMPET.

“The things behind forgetting, we only gaze before,

From glory unto glory that shineth more and more.

Because our Lord hath said it, that such shall be our way,

Oh, splendour of the promise! unto the perfect day.

Our harp-notes should be sweeter, our trumpet-tones more clear,

Our anthems ring so grandly that all the world must hear.

Oh, royal be our music, for who hath cause to sing

Like the chorus of redeemed ones, the children of the king.”

FROM Ottawa Mrs. Baeyertz went back to Toronto for a second mission. Here she and her daughter were once more the guests of Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien. This second mission was even more greatly blessed than the first. Mr. McCulloch, secretary of the Y. M. C. A., did everything to make it a success. His faith and his labours were alike most encouraging, while his personal kindness was something that will live in the heart of Mrs. Baeyertz as long as memory itself shall live.

It was while at Toronto this time that one of the lady interviewers published the result of an interesting chat upon many things which she had with Mrs. Baeyertz.

There are so many points of interest on topics not

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touched upon in the previous pages of this book, that we venture to think that some of that interview will be relished by our readers.

“I had,” says the interviewer, “a pleasant little talk one evening this week with Mrs. Baeyertz, the Australian lady evangelist, who by her earnest speech is drawing large audiences to Association Hall.

“I found Mrs. Baeyertz a guest at the home of Mr. Henry O'Brien, the well-known philanthropist.

“She is a pleasant-faced, brown-eyed woman, of quick, impulsive movement, with a physique suggestive of perfect vitality, and a full, smooth, English voice and accent.

“`It is just twelve months since we left Melbourne,' she said. `My daughter came with me. Oh, I couldn't think of travelling so far without her.'

“`How does Canada compare in your eyes with Australia, Mrs. Baeyertz?' I asked.

“`Canada is more like Australia than I thought possible, considering the difference of climate. You are English here, just as we are,' she said.

“`I landed in San Francisco, and came through the American cities, and I cannot tell you how different they seemed to me. When I crossed to Canada, it seemed like coming home.'

“`Tell me something about Melbourne,' I entreated.

“`It is a large city—an essentially English city. The Sabbath is well kept. We have no Sunday papers, and the municipal government is chiefly in the

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hands of active Christian people, as it is in Toronto,' she added innocently.

“`Now, Sydney is altogether different,' continued the lady. `Sydney is largely influenced by a sceptical element.'

“`I think, perhaps, the chief difference between the people of Australia and Canada is, that the former are more susceptible to influence than the latter,' said Mrs. Baeyertz.

“`It is probably a climatic difference. We are not so easily warmed up,' I said, smiling.

“`I do not know. But I certainly find that Canadians are not so easily impressed,' she answered. `The Australian climate is very mild, but very healthy. Yes, it is quite true; we have no rheumatism there.'

“`Did you stop at the Hawaiian Islands on your journey out?'

“`Only for a day, and it was lovely. It seemed to me like a little Eden dropped in mid-ocean. A grand missionary work has been done there in the past, and now nearly all the natives are Christians.

“`But the beautiful gardens, the fragrant flowers, and white houses, how delightful they were. And how odd it seemed to see the native women riding leisurely down the roadway, clad in bloomer costume, and sitting astride their steeds.'

“`Then the Hawaiian women are in advance of us,' I said; and Mrs. Baeyertz laughingly assented.

“Our talk turned to graver subjects presently, and

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she told me of her Jewish training, etc. . . . The lady gave the gentlest of suggestions to the good people of Toronto.

“`You have so many fine Christian men and women in your city,' she said. `If they were only just a little more united. In Melbourne we work together, and accomplish much more than if we were to work in separate or rival organizations.'”

London, in Canada, was the next place to which Mrs. Baeyertz travelled with the old, old story of Jesus and His love. Here also, with the love of the thing that characterises the Americans and Canadians, the local press sent a representative to interview her. Two or three sentences from the report of that interview may fittingly find a place here.

“`Apropos of climate,' she continued, with enthusiastic vivacity, `do you know that for the first time in my life, since as a girl I left England, when I awoke up here the other morning I saw the ground covered with snow, and I was like a child with delight. I thought I had never seen anything so beautiful! To be sure, our winters in Australia are cold and frosty, but we never have snow. What a merry season it must be with you Canadians. I went for a sleigh-ride, and it was deliciously novel and exhilarating.'

“Questioned about the city and her work here, Mrs. Baeyertz said:—`I am delighted with London. The Secretary of the Y. M. C. A. and his assistants have done everything well, and I believe that if we do our

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best, God will bless the effort. Yes, I have been gratified with the results of our meetings. The Christian hospitality and love and kindness and generosity of Canadians is far ahead of anything in the States,' added Mrs. Baeyertz.”

We have had in previous pages to record the gathering of great crowds at the various mission centres, and we have no wish to unduly repeat the notable fact, yet a few lines, which have a certain amount of humour as well as fact about them, ask for insertion here.

“From being a lady almost unknown,” says a London paper, “in less than two weeks the name of Mrs. Baeyertz has become a household word. Instead of filling a small hall, she has alone attracted a crowd twice over what one of the largest churches in the city would accommodate. No noted singer—nothing but her striking personality, her remarkable, clear and forcible explanation of the Scriptures has brought this all about. She uses levity of no kind, but is matter-of-fact in all her sayings, yet she is frequently eloquent. In truth, no unprejudiced mind can doubt she is a sincere woman filling a Divine mission. . . . Last evening the meeting was announced to be held in St. Andrew's Church, to begin at 8 o'clock. At fifteen minutes after the city bell rang out the hour of six, two men walked up to the church steps and sat down. Then others came alone, and in twos and threes. At 6.45 the doors were swung open, and

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nearly a hundred people poured in immediately. At 7 o'clock the body of the church was filled. Fifteen minutes more and the galleries too were crowded. And still the people came from all directions, hurrying past each other in the hope of securing a seat, only to be disappointed in finding the aisles, the pulpit stairs, and the lobbies literally jammed. And then, after a fruitless endeavour to search out even a place to stand where to be within hearing of the great woman, all comers after 7.20 were compelled to face about. . . . Women climbed up the pulpit stairs, and the edge of the platform was seized on with avidity. One young lady thus seated made a head-rest out of the back of the reporter's chair, a fact of which he was constantly reminded by being tickled in the neck with bonnet feathers, while in attempting to write he was compelled to prod another lady in the back with his elbow.”

But what of the souls of those mighty crowds? Was God manifested among them? Did the Holy Spirit brood and breathe upon the meetings? Did men and women learn the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the fulness, freeness, and cleansing efficacy of the Blood of Jesus? These are the chief points with which we are concerned.

Lines published a few years ago in the pages of The Christian, in connection with the work of a dear worker for God, who died all too young (as it would seem to us), might well have been written of Mrs.

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Baeyertz's work, and thus account for the blessing attending it:—

“She held the lamp of Truth that day

So low that none could miss the way;

And yet so high to bring in sight

That picture fair, `The World's Great Light,'

That gazing up—the lamp between—

The hand that held it scarce was seen!

She held the pitcher, stooping low,

To lips of little ones below,

Then raised it to the weary saint,

And bade him drink, when sick and faint;

They drank—the pitcher thus between—

The hand that held it scarce was seen.

She blew the trumpet soft and clear,

That trembling sinners need not fear,

And then with louder note and bold

To raze the walls of Satan's hold.

The trumpet coming thus between—

The hand that held it scarce was seen.”

Surely it will not be too much to add the beautiful closing verse of that poem, and say:—

“But when the Captain says ``Well done,

Thou good and faithful servant—come!

Lay down the pitcher and the lamp,

Lay down the trumpet, leave the camp,'

Thy weary hands will then be seen,

Clasped in those pierced ones—nought between.”

(We have changed the personal pronoun of the line from ``he” to “she.”)

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CHAPTER XX.—NOT WEARIED IN SOWING.

“Another stood, with basket stored indeed,

And powerful hand both full and faithful found,

And cast God's own imperishable seed

Upon the darkly heaving waste around:

Yet oft in weariness, and oft in woe,

Did that good sower store, then go forth to sow.”

“He that goeth forth and weepeth, seed of grace in sorrow bringing,

Laden with His sheaves of glory, doubtless shall return with singing.”

“BACK to Toronto to spend Christmas (a never-to-be-forgotten time) with Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien and family,” writes Mrs. Baeyertz in her brief notes.

Surely this is attaining to the highest art in hospitality, to be able to take comparative strangers into the heart of the home at that peculiarly family season—Christmas—and to make the visitors feel absolutely one with the family. But Mr. Henry O'Brien, of Toronto, is a past master in the too-much-decayed art of hospitality, so that Mrs. Baeyertz's notes fairly glow with the Christmas fire light, and dance with the gleam of the festive lights of that Canadian philanthropist's home.

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Mid holy thoughts and joyous hours was that Christmas spent by Mrs. Baeyertz in the Toronto home, leaving so vivid a mark of joy upon the memory, as to compel the pen, long after, to write “it was a never-to-be-forgotten time.” When the time came to say farewell to these friends, it was, indeed, a regretful parting.

At Peterborough, Ontario, to which Mrs. Baeyertz next travelled, the meetings were in full swing. When, at the end of the first week, both she and her daughter were laid up with a sharp attack of “La Grippe.” After her recovery, and the conclusion of the mission, Mrs. Baeyertz had a happy, profitable time at Kingston. Here, as the guest of Dr. Jackson, Congregational minister, she enjoyed some very helpful fellowship.

Brockville and Montreal were repetitions of the oft-told story of crowded houses, and the ingathering of precious souls.

A press leader entitled, “Women Evangelists,” which appeared in the Montreal papers, has some words, that while bearing upon the subject of its title, are yet of more than sufficient interest to warrant a place being found for them here:—

“The propriety of employing women evangelists, which has lately been discussed a good deal in Christian circles in the United States and Canada, seems to have been pretty effectually settled in the affirmative in Montreal, by the recent visits in close

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succession of three or four very eminent women speakers. There was first Mrs. Booth Clibborn, of the Salvation Army, a woman who inherits the singular powers of her remarkable parents, who had also the privilege of calling out Lady Henry Somerset, otherwise silent in Montreal. Then there was Miss Blanche Cox, another of the Salvation Army heroines, whose thrilling tales of devotion were calculated to renew the lives of many. And lastly, with the same message of complete personal consecration, came Mrs. Baeyertz, the converted Jewess.

“Facts are often more convincing than argument, and few who heard any of these holy women could doubt that God had given to them, as well as to consecrated men, the evangelistic power of drawing and deeply infecting large audiences with their own spirit of Christian consecration. The Protestant community of Montreal is known to be very conservative in religious matters; and nearly all of the many evangelists who have laboured here unite in the statement that Montreal Christians are about the least impressionable people to be found on the continent. Even Mr. Moody had to acknowledge that a comparative defeat attended his labours in Montreal, and he has since shown considerable reluctance in renewing them. It was scarcely to be expected that an almost unknown evangelist, and a woman at that, would in one short week turn the tide of Christian sentiment here from a cold indifference, if not aversion, to an overflowing

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enthusiasm, such as has rarely occurred in this city. . . . . . Whence, then, is the power which drew the thousands towards St. James's Methodist Church, which was taken for the occasion, being the largest church in Montreal, last Sunday evening, and which on Monday evening filled that large church with two thousand five hundred Christians, admitted by ticket? Where is the sober believer in the New Testament who will venture to ascribe this attracting power to other causes than that which drew the crowds to hear the Apostles on the day of Pentecost?”

Proceeding from Montreal to New York, Mrs. Baeyertz embarked on board the “Teutonic,” on April 13th, 1892, and sailed for Great Britain, “where,” said one of the last of the Canadian press reports, “she goes a stranger; but we believe that the same success that accompanied her work here will be seen there.”

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CHAPTER XXI.

“Where are the mighty forests,

And giant ferns of old,

That in primeval silence

Strange leaf and frond unrolled?

Not lost; for now they shine and blaze,

The light and warmth of Christmas days.

Where is the seed we scatter,

With weak and trembling hand,

Beside the gloomy waters,

Or on the arid land?

Not lost; for after many days

Our prayer and toil doth turn to praise.”

“BUT the British are so conservative,” is often remarked, when there is a rumour of the visit of some public notability to our shores. They do not so quickly “catch on” to anything or anyone new, as do our American and colonial cousins.

This may be, and is, indeed, in some senses true. Canadian press writers prophesied that she would have the same measure of acceptance and blessing in Britain that she had received in the colonies and America. But then they were Americans and newspaper men. What could they be supposed to know

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of the tastes of the British public, or the feelings of British Christians?

Without pausing to argue with the unbelieving critics on this matter, we prefer to come to the actual facts of the case. From that very first Sunday after her arrival in Ireland, when she preached in Queenstown in Canon Daunt's Parochial School-house in the afternoon, and in the Methodist Chapel at night, the records of her meetings in the leading religious journals, as well as the leaders and reports in the secular Press, have read like a chapter from the Acts of the Apostles.

Her first regular mission in Great Britain began in Cork in the spring of 1892. From here she went for rest to Glengarriff and Killarney, and from thence to Belfast, and then back to Dublin, where a mission of very remarkable power and interest was held. There were quite a number of letters addressed to the Irish Times beseeching Mrs. Baeyertz to re-deliver certain of the addresses that she had already given, and which had been singularly blessed.

Throughout the records, newspaper and other, of Mrs. Baeyertz's evangelistic career, this asking for certain addresses to be re-delivered has been quite a customary thing. Her address on the “Passover,” which she always gives with a large table before her on the platform, laid exactly as modern Jews lay it for the commemoration of the feast, is one of these much sought after, and usually much-blessed addresses.

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“The Great White Throne,” “The Story of my Conversion,” and “The Unpardonable Sin,” are three other much-blessed, second-requested addresses.

We have no wish to weary our readers by repeating what may have been said elsewhere in this book, or we might fill the next twenty pages with the reports of the Irish missions alone. A few lines from the communicated report to The Christian, from the pen of Mr. Robert Cotter, of Dublin, may serve to show how the Christians of that city regarded the work of Mrs. Baeyertz, as well as give a hint or two as to some of the methods she employs in the all-important inquiry meetings.

“Special mention,” writes Mr. Cotter, “should be made of her teaching on the subject of Holiness; which was remarkably clear, common-sense, and practical. Mrs. Baeyertz avoided the error of those who regard holiness principally as an inner experience, or, as it is styled, “the blessing,” apart from righteousness of life. At the same time she kept clear of insisting upon righteousness of life apart from an inner experience of whole-hearted surrender to Christ. Between both extremes she steered an even keel, and proved very helpful to many earnest Christians.

“The inquiry meetings were of a unique type. This evangelist usually deals with all the inquirers in the first instance, but in such a way that the meetings are more like a family conference; those around listening to the exposition of Scripture passages

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specially suited to such occasions. She firmly believes in the power of the truth itself, accompanied by the Spirit of God, to lead souls into the light of salvation. No hesitation appears to take possession of those who have once had experience of such close and intimate acquaintance with this lady. The tendency seems to be to seek further opportunity of instruction, publicly and privately, at her lips. Nearly two hundred persons came into the inquiry-room to receive help during the mission, but this number very inadequately represents anything like the good done.”

London, the great metropolis of the world, came next in the order of God's providence and leading for Mrs. Baeyertz. Very few strangers to this mighty city and its myriad whole-hearted workers ever care to begin work there. “In London,” to quote from the Rev. J. Macpherson, “there is more good and more evil than in any other city in the world. More than a million” (this number would appear capable of being doubled) “of its inhabitants never darken the door of a church or chapel. Ignorance the most gross; scepticism the most defiant; atheism the most blasphemous; worldliness the most grovelling; poverty the most haggard; crime so desperate as to be gloried in as an accomplishment, and followed as a profession; vice utterly hideous; combine to form a picture of blended horror and melancholy. . . . You look out on that sea of gall, and feel how vain it seems for the Christian to pour his drop of sweetness

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into it. And yet there are many saints in London who not only keep their garments undefiled amidst infinite impurities, but have the faith and courage to attempt the cleansing of this Augean stable. Many of the workers must be regarded as the most devoted, noble-minded, and heroic servants of Jesus. For singleness of purpose, for originality of method, for concentration of energy, for simplicity of faith, for breadth of philanthropy, and intensity of spiritual power, I doubt if in all the world there are to be found more eminent workers in the vineyard of our Lord than the Christian volunteers of London.”

Into this great maelstrom of overwhelming evil and of sterling worth and work Mrs. Baeyertz went (introduced by her old friend, Mr. Henry Varley), leaning upon the promise of God, to conduct a ten days' mission at the Westbourne Grove Baptist Chapel. Here in mighty London the same signs and wonders followed the preaching of the Holy Child Jesus.

Cardiff, in Wales, Winchester, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Dundee, followed in quick succession. “Scotland is the great testing ground for preachers and evangelists,” say those who know best of what they speak in these matters. But God was with his handmaid in Scotland, and Christian and secular papers, converted and unconverted people, all alike, gave forth the same testimony, “God is in our midst of a truth.”

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The Rev. William Ross, of Glasgow, writing in The Christian, says of the mission in that town, “We have not yet been able to test the results which are in our hands, but we do know that the harvest is great and blessed. We also know that many believers have received a wonderful reviving and refreshing, and are now walking in the `comfort of the Holy Ghost.' Mrs. Baeyertz is an evangelist of exceptional power. Her knowledge of the Word and of the human heart, as well as her experience of seventeen years in the work, qualify her to deal with souls, and the Spirit of God uses her wonderfully to win them for the Saviour. All our workers have had such blessing and comfort in the work and in co-operating with Mrs. Baeyertz, that they advise all Christian workers, and especially soul-winners, not to lose any of the services conducted by her. And we hope soon to have her back.”

Thus far our work of transcribing the story of a life and its work is finished. We have striven to write those things which should best glorify God. It was impossible but that, with the task that lay before us, the personality of the worker should be exhibited, but we trust that amid it all the Power of the Master has been the most prominent feature of these pages.

As will be seen by those who have read this short record of her work, Mrs. Baeyertz has been wonderfully owned of God, both in leading souls to Christ

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and in the all-important work of reviving Christians. At present she has given up any idea of immediate return to Australia, work having opened up largely in Great Britain, and, as God has shown us, He has a message and a mission through her whose story fills these pages.

THE END

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