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Gypsy
Smith (1860-1947)
His
Life and Work
By Himself
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| Chapter
28. Some Fresh Stories About Peter Mackenzie |
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I reached England again on the 18th
of May, 1896. From that date until September, 1897, when I began my work as
the first missioner of the National Free Church Council, I was occupied in conducting
brief campaigns in different parts of England. Let me note some interesting
points in connection with this period. At Consett the miners were so moved that
they started to hold prayer meetings down a coalpit - in the month of June,
too, when it was very hot. I worked at Norwood Grove Congregational Church,
Liverpool, with the Rev. E.R. Barrett, B.A., the pastor. We had a most fruitful
week. Two years after this date Mr. Barrett told me that he had never had a
Communion service since the mission at which some persons who dated their awakening
from my visit were not admitted to Church membership.
One of the most notable missions of my life was conducted at Wolverhampton in
October, 1896. Dr. Berry was the life and soul of the enterprise. He gave up
all other engagements in order to be present at the meetings. The annual Mayor's
dinner fell due during this campaign, and Dr. Berry was invited to attend. His
reply was that the most important thing in creation to him at that moment was
the mission. What would his people think of him if he were feasting at the Mayor's
banquet while sinners were being converted? All the other ministers of Wolverhampton
loyally supported Dr. Berry. The mission had been arranged by the local Free
Church Council, and I am sure that it did a great deal towards bringing Dr.
Berry to the point of supporting the engagement of a Free Church missioner.
No man ever stood by me more sympathetically than Dr. Berry, whether in the
meetings or out of the meetings, in his study or in my lodgings. I have for
years had a great longing for a peaceful period of calm study, and I chanced
to say to Dr. Berry, "I wish I could sit down and do nothing but study
for a year." He retorted, "Yes, and then you would be spoiled. Just
you go on with your work and do as much reading as you can." We had 800
inquirers. One hundred and forty of the converts elected to join Dr. Berry's
Church. Dr. Berry summoned a Church meeting, and, choosing 140 of his best members,
put a young convert into the charge of each. The member was expected to visit
the new convert, and report to Dr. Berry every week or two for two, three, or
four months. I heartily commend this plan. It is good for the young convert
and good for the Church member.
In accordance with my custom, I told the story of my life on the closing night.
All the tickets were sold long before the meeting. The crowd who had been unable
to get tickets gathered outside the building in the hope of squeezing their
way somehow into the hall. they knew there was a little standing room. The policemen
were utterly unable to keep the people in order. They sought to charge the crowd,
but the crowd charged them. They pinned them against the walls and knocked their
helmets about in all directions.
My mission at Dewsbury was conducted under the shadow of the great name of Peter
Mackenzie. I enjoyed the intimate friendship of Peter, who was a sunbeam in
the lives of thousands. I met him for the first time, sixteen or seventeen years
ago, on the platform of Hull station. Both of us had been preaching in the town.
We were leaving in the same train, though not in the same compartment, because
our destinations were different. I told him that a great work of grace had been
accomplished in Hull. "Glory to God!" he shouted, "I will send
you a goose at Christmas." Three months passed away. I had forgotten all
about the goose and Peter's promise, but he had not forgotten. He sent me the
following letter: -
"HONOURED AND DEAR
Sir, - I have had no time to purchase a goose. But I send you 10s.. and a photo
of yours truly, which when you receive you will have goose enough.
"PETER MACKENZIE."
I met him again at Crewe some time after
I had addressed the Congregational Union at Hanley. Said he to me, "What
a lot of steam we should waste if we stopped the engine every time a donkey brayed
and went to inquire into his bronchial tubes." He bought a rose at the station
and put it into my coat. Then he hailed a newspaper boy, and shouted to him, "Penn'orth
o' Tory, penn'orth o' Liberal, penn'orth o' fun." Handing the papers to me,
he said, "Here is your train; read how my Father is ruling the world."
Peter came to Hanley, while I was there, to preach in the Wesleyan Chapel, and
to lecture in the Imperial Circus on "The Devil: his Personality, Character,
and Power." The lecture was announced over the town in black letters on a
huge green poster. As I was passing along the street a half-tipsy man accosted
me, and pointing to the placard said, "What nonsense! There's no such person
as the devil." I asked him what he had been doing of late. "Oh,"
he said, "I have been drinking. I have had a six weeks' spree. I've had a
fearful time - the blues terribly." "Oh, indeed," I said, "what
do you mean by the blues?" "Don't you know? - little uns." "Little
uns?" "Yes, little uns. Don't you know what I mean? - little devils,
scores of them." "Well," I said, "don't you think, now, that
if there are lots of little uns, there must be an old un too?" When I seconded
the vote of thanks to Peter for his lecture, I told this story. Rising from his
seat and waving his chair over his head, he shouted, "Glory, glory! I'll
tell that all over the country."
When Peter was brought home ill to Dewsbury, the Wesleyan minister of the town,
Mr. Martin, called to see him. "I am very sorry, sir," he said, "to
find you in bed, and so ill." "Yes, yes," said Peter, "I am
in the dry dock, undergoing repairs." Mr. Martin heard that Peter had become
much worse, and again called on him." said Peter, "Father is going to
send down the angel amid and let old Peter out of prison." A few days later
he died.
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