MONTH after month passed without the least sign of my procuring any employment. The cloud of adversity seemed to grow deeper and deeper every day, and sometimes blind unbelief would harass me by suggesting, How could all things be working together for good to those that love God? But faith triumphed over all.
One morning our little Leah returned from the baker with two loaves, and said that she was told to say that as we now owed for three months’ bread, no more would be given until the bill was paid. The grocer sent a similar message, and the landlord sent us a notice that afternoon to say that we must leave the house next quarter, and if the rent was not paid before then, the furniture would be distrained for it. The trial of my faith was not yet complete. My dear wife, who told me the day before that three of our dear children were not well, now informed me that they were sickening with fever. This deeply grieved me, and went to my very heart... I loved my dear children, and felt that I could not supply them with proper medical assistance. I commended them to the care and keeping of Him who said, “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.”
More than once I thought of calling on my pastor, Mr. B. to make our distress known to him; but—as I had heard it repeatedly said, not only by unbelieving Jews, but also by professing Christians, that it was a delusion to believe that a Jew was ever really converted to the Lord Jesus Christ, for (it was said) those who professed Him did so from hypocritical motives, either to gain money or an advantageous situation, although I could refute such unjust assertions—I refrained from calling upon him. I loved Christ because He was the very Saviour whom I needed, and I would rather have starved than any one should have said that I became a Christian for the sake of gain; and my wife also was of the same opinion.
The two loaves which Leah fetched in the morning did not last long. The one that was left we gladly would have eaten for our supper had it not been that our dear children would have had nothing the next morning. I was quite at my wits’ end to know what to do. The first week I spent in going from office to office, and the next in going from shop to shop in Oxford Street, offering myself as a light porter or to do anything, but everywhere I was told, “We are full.” The children were in bed, and we were sitting round a few embers in the grate, reading Isa. 43, when, having finished that beautiful chapter, we talked over our present distress.
My wife calmly said, “You see, Samuel, the same God who ‘is able of stones to raise up children unto Abraham,’ can raise us up friends where we least expect them. I cannot believe that God should have been so gracious as to reveal His dear Son to us, and then permit us and our dear little ones to starve, which we shall be bound to do if you do not find some employment at once; but you know He can do great things in a little time. Besides, you must remember that God has promised, as we have been reading, that He will never leave His people nor forsake them, which I take to mean that He will be with them in their persecutions, in their poverties, in their sickness. I firmly believe that all our trials and present sorrow and sufferings are sent us to wean us from the world and bring us to a more intimate acquaintance with Himself, and to a greater experience of His goodness to our souls. Let us think of what Mr. B. said last Sunday. ‘The refiner,’ he said, ‘does not intend to lose one atom of his gold, but he puts it into the fire to purge away the dross’; and I believe that our loving Father has most gracious designs towards us in sending these heavy trials and deep sorrows. No, Samuel, I cannot believe that the Lord Jesus, who gave His most precious life for us, will let us starve. It is now our extremity; but who knows that tomorrow may be His opportunity to do for us more than we may be able to bear.”
After committing ourselves and our little ones to the care of the Lord Jesus Christ, that “Good Shepherd,” we retired to rest without anything to eat. The next morning I left home without breakfast, and how I felt can be better imagined than described. I made my way into the city, and seeing a lady carrying a large paper parcel I thought of earning a few pence. I touched my hat and most respectfully said, “Please shall I carry it for you?” She gave me such a defiant look, as much as to say, “Mind your own business and I’ll mind mine,” that I had no courage left in me to offer my services to any one else. I wandered about I did not know where. Everything and everybody seemed to be busy around me; I alone was idle. I felt the pangs of hunger most keenly and.... tears came into my eyes as I wondered whether there was another man like me in this great city, who was in such distress and want as myself. I thought, ‘Has the Lord forgotten to be gracious to me? Is His mercy toward me clean gone for ever?’
I was drying my tears when someone tapped me on the shoulder, and on looking round who should I see but Mr. S. He shook me heartily by the hand and kindly asked after my arm, and whether I had done anything since I left them. I told him that I had been unemployed ever since, and that I was afraid that there was but very little prospect of finding anything for a long time to come. Whether he saw that I had been weeping I do not know, but he kindly took me by the hand, and said, “I am going to have my luncheon and should be glad of your company.” There was no need of asking me twice that morning to have something to eat. I felt so faint when I came into the restaurant that I believe had I not met Mr. S. when I did I must have fallen down in the street. While I was partaking of a plentiful dinner, Mr. S. said there was a place, “and if it is not filled up I think you will be the very man for it.” He handed me his card, and said, “I have a great mind to send you there, it is in Cannon Street; I will write the address on my card. Ask for Mr. G.” And, looking at the clock and putting a sovereign into my hand, he added, “You must be off at once or you will miss him; he leaves at twelve o’clock and I see you have only a quarter of an hour.” I was so overpowered at this mark of God’s goodness that I could not find words to express my gratitude to this kind friend. He evidently saw this, for he said, “Never mind thanking me, run as fast as you can or you may be too late.”
Fast walking is no novelty in London, but I wonder what the people must have thought of me as they noticed my anxious haste, looking neither to the right nor to the left, and scarcely stopping to take my breath. I arrived just in time. Mr. G. received me very kindly and asked when and why I left my last place. I told him the whole story, to which he listened with great attention. He also asked me how many languages I knew, and having been told that I could speak five but could only correspond in four, he thought that would do, saying “I shall see Mr. S. this afternoon, and if I entertain your application, you will hear from me by tomorrow’s post.” I thanked him and left. No one but God knew my feelings as I left the office. My heart was full of gratitude to my heavenly Father; and if I wept this morning for hunger, I now shed tears of joy. I was completely broken down, and all I could say was “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name.”
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