“I shall not be missed, though another succeed me
To reap down the fields that in spring I have sown;
Who plowed and who sowed is not missed by the reaper,
But only remembered by what he has done.”
TEN years of busy, happy work followed the events of which I told you in our last chapter, for though the cholera was a thing of the past, the need of a wise, loving friend who would go in and out among the poor people, teach the children, look after the young girls just going to their first places of service, show the busy, often tired mothers how their homes might be made brighter and happier, and their own and their children's clothes kept neat and tidy, seemed as great or even greater than it had been when Lizzie first visited among them, and she had learned to love her poor friends so well that the thought of having to say "Goodbye" made her quite sad; so it will not, I think, surprise you to hear that she never again took her old place in the work-room.
Her friends still looked coldly upon her, and as she had no money of her own until some years later, when the death of one of her aunts put her in possession of a small income, she had again to face the question, "How shall I earn a living?" And when some Christian ladies offered to give her a small sum weekly if she would devote her whole time to selling Bibles, holding sewing classes, &c., Lizzie accepted their offer.
Do I think she was right or wrong in doing so? I can hardly say, for all Christians have not the same light. But I know that those to whom the Lord makes it plain that they are to give up other work so that they may have more time for His service, serve One who is interested in their every need, One of whom the Apostle Paul could say when writing to the Christians at Philippi, "But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." (Phil. 4:1919But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:19).)
Every need may become a matter of prayer, for though it is quite true that all our needs are known to God, yet it is indeed
“Sweet to tell Him all He knoweth.”
But let us return to Lizzie. Her days were very busy ones. Shall we join her in one of her walks? Limehouse is now a thickly-peopled district of East London, but I remember having read that when Queen Anne was on the throne it was a pleasant village four miles from the great city, where many of the merchants had their shops or counting-houses, whose country houses were in what was then called "Limehouse-in-the-Fields," and I think this is quite true, for many of the old houses still standing are so large and well built that it is easy to see they once belonged to rich people. I have myself, on going to see a family of match-box makers who lived in an attic in one of those old houses, gone up a broad, handsome staircase with railings of oak so beautifully carved that I could not help stopping for a moment to admire and think of how "passing away" is written upon all things here. Many of the old houses have been pulled down, and those still standing have been turned into warehouses, or let to people who can only afford to pay the rent of one or two rooms.
Mrs. S—lived in one of these houses. Lizzie's knock at the door of one of the rooms on the second floor was answered by a low "Come in," and, opening the door, she found herself in a room that would have been a good size for one person, but was far too small for the wants of the whole family of father, mother and four children. In a low bed near the fireplace lay Mrs. S—, the sick woman Lizzie had called to see. It was not often she was to be found alone, but her husband, a laborer, was out seeking work, and the children had all gone to the ragged school in the next street. Lizzie was glad of the quiet time, as it gave her an opportunity to speak to Mrs. S—about eternal things.
For many months she had been very ill, getting weaker every day, though a stranger might have said, "Oh, no, it cannot be true; her eyes are so bright, and she has such a fresh color in her cheeks." Lizzie knew the poor woman was in almost the last stage of consumption, and that the doctor had said she would never be any better, and had perhaps only a few weeks to live. She had prayed much for her that the Holy Spirit would give her to see and own her need of salvation.
We may be sure the talk that morning was a very earnest, solemn one, and those of our readers who know the Lord Jesus as their own trusted Savior will be glad to know that before her death she trusted herself as a lost sinner to Christ, and was made so happy in the love of Christ that she was enabled in simple faith to leave her children in His care.