Gathering Jewels

Gathering Jewels.

by James Knowles and Matilda Darroch Knowles.

PREFACE.

The present volume is a purely pastoral attempt, emanating from a fraternal affection for two of G.o.d's honored saints, and an increasingly growing desire for the glory of G.o.d in the salvation of souls.

In presenting the following pages to the friends, acquaintances, and co-laborers of our departed brother and sister I desire to record my appreciation of the good achieved by two whose example among us was as beneficial as that of the angel at the pool of Siloam, stirring up the sluggish waters to fresh life and utility, and teaching us that

Beyond this vale of tears There is a life above, Unmeasured by the flight of years; And all that life is love.

While a proper and very natural sentiment demands that the memoirs of the beloved ones should not appear until some time has pa.s.sed away, it is also proper that their publication should not be put off till all trace of the facts recorded and the impressions there from made have been forgotten. During the preparation of these memoirs nothing has been more clearly manifest to me than the steady recurrence, throughout their lives, of a deep and earnest unison of feeling between man and wife, in such unfailing sweetness as to find its way at once to our hearts and clothe it with the freshness of a living, loving presence.

The subjects whose earthly career we are about to delineate, were whole-souled enough to elicit the respect of all who knew them, hence they made lasting friends, whilst to their own immediate family their loss is irreparable, and it is hard to realize that they are no more; for who is there among us who does not know what it is to be united by a fond and pa.s.sionate affection to those who are no longer with us--ever to think of the beloved ones, and to feel ourselves constantly under the influence of the vanished presence?

It cannot be claimed for James Knowles that he was a great man, a learned scholar, or one possessed of extraordinary intellectual culture above his fellows, but, as Hamerton says: "It is not erudition that makes the intellectual man, but a sort of virtue which delights in vigorous and beautiful thinking, just as moral virtue delights in vigorous and beautiful conduct." So it was with our brother, he made the most of the talents G.o.d endowed him with, and whatever he undertook to do, he did with might and main; hence his success in any undertaking, or any cause he espoused, for he seemed to realize that success in a _good_ cause is undoubtedly better than failure, while the result in any case is not to be regarded so much as the aim and effort, and the striving with which worthy objects are pursued. Although the Elder may have been less than a Huss, a Calvin, or a Knox in public fame, he had emulated them in self-contemplation and humility.

As for Matilda Knowles, our missionary, she was more than a Dorcas, and equally vigorous in spirit with a Lydia; hence we speak of her in the sphere in which it pleased G.o.d for her to labor. Those who will carefully read the chapters devoted to her work, will at once perceive that little is left for me to speak of in words of praise.

Let our Bible women study the pages of this book containing the record of her toil in the vineyard, and note the fruits thereof for over a quarter of a century; for no work purely imaginative in its character ever outrivalled it in intensity of interest, especially to those who have the salvation of the unregenerate at heart. To our children and co-workers and successors we earnestly commend it; praying that the Divine blessing may accompany its circulation and perusal in our own and other lands until He shall come whose right it is to reign.

With these few prefatory remarks, with no claim to literary excellence, and a prayer for the blessing of the Holy Spirit, I commit this imperfect production to the perusal of all co-workers in the vineyard of the Lord.

I also sincerely trust that it will be acceptable to every evangelical denomination, where the love of the Great Creator, and the advancing perfection of human life predominates over all forms of sin and superst.i.tion.

DUNCAN M. YOUNG.

NEW YORK, August 18, 1887.

Dedication.

To the Pastors, Elders, Sabbath-School Workers, and the New York Female Bible Readers' Society, who were Intimately a.s.sociated with the deceased in Winning Souls to Christ,

These Memoirs are Affectionately Dedicated

BY THE EDITOR.

In Memoriam.

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES KNOWLES.

They died within a week of each other, after a married life of forty-seven years, and each at the age of seventy-five.

Ever faithful to the cause of their Master, they died as they had lived--in triumphant faith.

Hand in hand, together they trod Through years twoscore and seven; Their only staff was the Word of G.o.d, Their path was the way to heaven.

Hand in hand, e'er the burning sun Had drunk up the morning dew, They started their earthly journey to run, While the heavens were fair and blue.

But life's path lies not through a gra.s.sy dell, In the cool of the morning's shade; There are scorching sands, and torrents that swell, As well as the flowery glade.

There are crags to climb in the mountains fast, There are gorges, and canyons deep, And the blinding snow, and the wintry blast Must over the landscape sweep.

And the shoulders must bear a wearisome load, Whether o'er mountain or moor, Or through forest, or dusty highway, lay the road, Or the feet be bleeding and sore.

But hand in hand we see them still, When the sun had drunk up the dew; They were toiling steadfastly up the hill, Ever keeping the end in view.

They scaled the crags of the mountain steep When the noontide sun was high; And they forded the flood of the canyon deep, When the sun lay low in the sky.

But their tired feet are no longer as light As in days of the long, long past, And their youthful tresses have turned to white With the snows, and the wintry blast.

Now hand in hand, they stand by the sh.o.r.e Of a river dark and wide; And the songs which the seraphs are wafting o'er, They catch from the other side.

And their faces beam with unearthly light, In the rays of the setting sun, As their eyes peer far beyond mortals' sight, And they learn that life's journey is done.

Hand in hand by the river, they stray Where the dark waves wash the sh.o.r.e; And they hear the splash, and the feathery spray, As the ferryman dips his oar.

Now the father waves a loving adieu, As he looses his clasped hand; And the ferryman plies his oar anew, Till he reaches the golden strand.

By the silent waves of the river of death, The mother is waiting still, With eager eye and with bated breath, The call of the Master's will.

Now her face is illumed by a heavenly light As sweet as angels' breath; For she knows that the unclasped hands will unite, Across the river of death.

GEORGE F. SARGENT.

NEW YORK, February 17, 1887.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JAMES KNOWLES]

GATHERING JEWELS

CHAPTER I.

BRIEF SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF JAMES KNOWLES.