A Woman's Life-Work-Labors and Experiences of Laura S. Haviland Part 1

A Woman's Life-Work.

by Laura S. Haviland.

PREFACE.

In presenting the following pages to the public, without the trace of an excellent scholar or eloquent orator, I fully realize my inability to compete with writers of the nineteenth century. With this incompetency in view, I have hesitated and delayed until three-score and thirteen years are closing over me. Yet as I am still spared to toil on a little longer in the great field so white to harvest, praying the Lord of the harvest to arm and send forth more laborers, because they are too few, I ask an indulgent public to allow my deep and abiding sympathies for the oppressed and sorrowing of every nation, cla.s.s, or color, to plead my excuse for sending forth simple, unvarnished facts and experiences, hoping they may increase an aspiration for the active doing, instead of saying what ought to be done, with excusing self for want of ability, when it is to be found in Him who is saying, "My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is perfect in weakness."

LAURA S. HAVILAND.

OCTOBER, 1881.

CHAPTER I.

EARLY LIFE.

At the earnest solicitation of many dear friends I have consented to leave on record some of the incidents that have fallen under my personal observation during three-score and ten years.

My father, Daniel Smith, was a native of Eastern New York, and for many years an approved minister in the Society of Friends. He was a man of ability and influence, of clear perceptions, and strong reasoning powers.

My mother, Sene Blancher, was from Vermont; was of a gentler turn, and of a quiet spirit, benevolent and kind to all, and much beloved by all who knew her, and was for many years an elder in the same Society.

It is due to my parents to say, if I have been instrumental, through the grace of G.o.d, to bless his poor and lowly of earth, by adapting means to ends in relieving suffering humanity, it is largely owing to their influence.

Soon after their marriage, they removed to Kitley Towns.h.i.+p, county of Leeds, Canada West (now known as Ontario), where I was born, December 20, 1808. I well remember the perplexities and doubts that troubled my young mind in trying to find the whys and wherefores of existing facts; yet I was naturally a happy and playful child. Some remarks made by my parents over a portion of Scripture father was reading, in which was the sentence, "and they are no more twain, but one flesh"--"that is a close relations.h.i.+p; twain is two, no more two but one flesh"--struck me with wonder and amazement. "Yes," replied mother, "that is a oneness that is not to be separated, a near relation between husband and wife; 'no more twain, but one flesh.' 'What G.o.d has joined together let not man put asunder.'" It seemed as if every word fastened upon my mind a feeling of awe at the new thought, that father and mother were one person. "Then they think just alike, and know all about the other, if true; father and mother believe it, and they found it in the Bible, and that," I thought, "must be true. Now for the test--If father and mother are one, they must know each other's thoughts and whereabouts." After father had been out a few minutes I asked mother where he was. "Not far off; may be he's gone to the barn." But he was not there. At my report she said, "Perhaps he's gone to David Coleman's, or some of the neighbors." This settled the matter in my mind, that they were not one.

But I gave the same test to try father, which also proved a failure.

But not quite satisfied without further investigation, I asked mother for permission to go to David Coleman's to play an hour with his little girls. Little did she know that the object of her little five-year-old skeptic was to present the test to their father and mother, to see whether they were one, and found the same result each time.

This settled the question in my mind that one thing in the Bible was untrue. Father and mother were mistaken in that part of the Bible that said husband and wife were no more two, but one. For a long time after this, whenever the Bible was referred to as authority, I would think, "It may be true, and may not, because I tried one thing it said that was not true."

Another mystery was hard for me to solve. In asking mother where we should go if we should jump off the edge of the world, she replied, "There is no jumping off place, because our world is round, like a ball, and takes one day and night to roll around, and that makes day and night." After the little child of six years had studied over this mysterious problem a short time, she returned with the query, "Why don't we drop off while underside? and why don't the water spill out off Bates's creek and our well?" She replied, "Water, as well as every thing else, is always kept in place by a great law, called gravitation, that our Heavenly Father made when he made the world," and she said I would understand more about it when older. But this did not satisfy me; I wanted to know all about it _then_. As soon as father came in queries were repeated, but he closed as mother did, that I must wait until I was older, which made me almost impatient to be old enough to know how these things could be.

Another subject occupied my childish mind a long time, and was investigated to the extent of the miniature ability I possessed. And that was the interesting fact that I discovered one bright evening while looking at the stars, that our house was just in the middle of the world; and when we went to grandfather's (a distance of seven miles), as soon as it was night, I was out in the yard measuring the distance by stars, but to my surprise, grandfather's house was just in the middle. For I tried it all around the house, and went to the barn with my uncles, and could discover no variation. Consequently I must have been mistaken at home. But on our return I could not find by the stars but that we were just in the center of creation. Whenever I went with my parents to a neighbor's for an evening's visit, my first and foremost thought was to see how far to one side they were. But I always found myself just in the center of this great world; just as grown-up children are p.r.o.ne to think their own nation is ahead in arts and sciences, of all other nations--their own State ahead of all other States in moral and intellectual improvements--their own town or city, like Boston, the "hub of the universe." In fact, _we_ are about the center; our pets more knowing, and our children smarter, than can be found elsewhere. But as the study of astronomy gives ability to look upon the vast universe of thousands of worlds much larger than our own, revolving in their orbits, it develops our intellectual faculties, and enables us to view the concave appearance of the ethereal blue from a standpoint widely differing from the occupancy of the center. And when supreme self is melted away by faith in the blood of the covenant, our spiritual vision becomes clearer and our miniature minds are expanding, and we learn to make due allowances for the acts and opinions of others, that we have called peculiar, because they do not quite accord with our own usages and tastes.

In 1815 my father removed with his family to Cambria, Niagara County, Western New York, then a wilderness. Soon after we were settled in our new home, we lost my baby brother Joseph, which made a deep impression upon my young heart, and gave me great uneasiness in regard to my own future happiness, should I be taken away. I found great relief, one day, while listening to a conversation between father and grandfather, as to what age children were responsible to their Creator. Father gave his opinion that ten years, in the generality of children, is the age that G.o.d would call them to an account for sin. Grandfather said that was about the age he thought children were accountable, and all children that die previous to that age are happily saved in heaven.

"Yes," said father; "where there is no law there is no transgression."

At this great relief to my troubled heart, I ran out to play with my brother Harvey, to tell him how long we would be safe, if we should die, for father and grandfather said children that died before they were ten years old would go to heaven, and I would be safe almost two years, and he would be safe a good while longer (as he was two years and a half younger than myself). "Oh, yes," said he; "and Ira will be safe a great many years, 'cause he's little, if he should die as little Josie did." This earliest conviction of sin vanished like the morning cloud. This idea was so deeply embedded in my young mind, that whenever I heard of a child's death, my first inquiry was for its age.

If under ten, I was at ease over its safety; but if over ten years, I was distressed unless I could hear of some words from the one taken away, that would indicate a preparation for the change of worlds. The vividness of those early childhood impressions are frequent reminders of the importance of giving clear explanations to children, in regard to important religious truths, as their young hearts are much more impressible than is generally conceded.

EARLY IMPRESSIONS OF SLAVERY AND RELIGION.

During the first six years in our new home, there was no school within three miles of us, and all the privilege we enjoyed of this kind was a spelling lesson given daily to three of us, the two little girls of our nearest neighbor and myself. Our mothers p.r.o.nounced the words for us alternately, at their house and ours. In this way we spelled our book through a number of times. This privilege, with four months in school previous to leaving Canada, proved a great blessing. As I possessed an insatiable thirst for knowledge, I borrowed all the easy readers I could find in the neighborhood. I was especially interested in memoirs of children and youth, which increased my frequent desire to become a Christian. I wished to read every book that came within my reach. I read a few of father's books, designed for more mature minds. I became deeply interested in John Woolman's history of the slave-trade, of the capture and cruel middle pa.s.sage of negroes, and of the thousands who died on their voyage and were thrown into the sea to be devoured by sharks, that followed the slave-s.h.i.+p day after day. The pictures of these crowded slave-s.h.i.+ps, with the cruelties of the slave system after they were brought to our country, often affected me to tears; and I often read until the midnight hour, and could not rest until I had read it twice through. My sympathies became too deeply enlisted for the poor negroes who were thus enslaved for time to efface.

The third or fourth I had ever seen of that race was an old man called Uncle Jeff. He seemed to serve any one who called upon him for ch.o.r.es, in our little village of Lockport, that grew up as by magic upon the Erie Ca.n.a.l. Uncle Jeff was frequently employed by merchants to cry off their stale articles on the street. At one time the old man, whose head was almost as white as wool, was crying, "Gentlemen and ladies' black silk stockin's of all colors for sale," holding them up to view as he pa.s.sed along the street, followed by a group of boys crying out, "n.i.g.g.e.r, n.i.g.g.e.r," and throwing gra.s.s and clay at him. At length he turned to these half-grown boys, looking very sad, as he said, "Boys, I am just as G.o.d made me, an' so is a toad." At this the boys slunk away; and I felt very indignant in seeing the men who were standing near only laugh, instead of sharply reproving those ill-behaved children.

Another colored man, named Ben, came to our town with a family who opened an inn. He was employed mostly in the kitchen, and while Ben was asleep on the kitchen floor, some rude boys put a quant.i.ty of powder in the back of his pants, and placing a slow match to it left the room, but watched the process of their diabolical sport through a window, and soon saw their victim blown up, it was said, nearly to the ceiling. His hips and body were so badly burned that he was never able to sit or stoop after this wicked act. He always had to walk with a cane, and whenever too weary to stand, was compelled to lie down, as his right hip and lower limb were stiffened. Yet little notice was taken of this reckless act, but to feed and poorly clothe this life-long cripple, as he went from house to house, because he was of that crushed and neglected race.

RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS AND EXPERIENCE.

In the Autumn of my thirteenth year, with our parents' permission, brother Harvey and I attended a little prayer-meeting at our Uncle Ira Smith's house, near by. Here was singing, experiences given, with prayer and exhortations, in which young people, as well as those more advanced in years, took part. All this was new to me, having never attended any other meeting than of Friends, usually called Quakers. My father being a minister and mother an elder in that denomination, they were very conscientious in training their children in all the usages, as well as principles, of that sect. At this Methodist prayer-meeting a young girl, but little older than myself, related her experience, and prayed so earnestly for her young a.s.sociates, that it took a deep hold on my mind; and on my way home, on that beautiful evening, I resolved to seek the Lord until I could know for myself that my sins were forgiven. Oh, how I wished I was a Christian, as was Hannah Bosworth.

She was so young, and yet she told us how earnestly she sought the Lord, and found Jesus so precious in the forgiveness of her sins. It was said in that meeting that G.o.d was no respecter of persons, and that I had read in the Bible; and then Jesus had said, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not;" "and now, this very night, I _will_ begin to seek the Lord, and I _never_ will give up trying, if it takes as long as I live, until I receive an evidence that I am the Lord's child. I want to realize that peace and joy those men and women expressed in that meeting." As all had retired, I placed a candle in my brother's hand, and hurried him to bed, that I might know positively that no human ear could listen to my first attempt to address my Heavenly Father.

I knelt for the first time in my life, in the rear of our corn crib, but no words could I find for prayer, and a feeling of fear came over me, and I arose to my feet. I looked all around me, but no one was in sight; naught but trees and shrubs of the garden below, and the ethereal blue, bedecked with the beautiful moon and sparkling stars, above. Is it possible that He who created this beautiful world can notice a little girl like me? And the thought occurred that I had better wait until I was older. But the remarks to which I had just listened came vividly before me, and I renewed my resolve to pray to Him who had said, "Suffer little children to come unto me," and again knelt for prayer; but that feeling of fear increased, until it seemed as if some one was about to place a hand upon my shoulder, and I again found myself on my feet. But as no one was in sight, I queried whether this was not the enemy of my soul, to keep me from prayer, and fell upon my knees a third time, determined to remain in the position of prayer until my first pet.i.tion to my Heavenly Father was presented. And the prayer of the publican was repeated over and over again, "G.o.d be merciful to me a sinner." These words above all others seemed just for me. I was a sinner, and mercy was what I wanted. I returned to the house with a still more fixed resolve to continue asking, with a firmer purpose never to give over until the evidence of pardoning love was mine. As I retired, I knelt by my bedside, and repeated the same prayer, with a few additional words, imploring the aid of the Holy Spirit to teach me the way of life, and penitential tears began to flow. Before I slept my pillow was wet with tears, and was turned for a dry place. As I was reading the Bible through by course, it became more of a companion than ever before.

The next prayer-meeting was attended, and as they knelt during the season of prayer I felt an impression to kneel with them. But the cross was very great and I did not yield. I thought if I did so it would be reported to my parents, and they would probably forbid my coming to these little meetings, which I so highly prized. But this was unprofitable reasoning, increasing the burden instead of bringing the relief sought. I wept on my way home, and in my evening supplication renewed my promise to be more faithful, let others do or say what they would, if the like impression was ever again experienced. With permission I attended the next prayer-meeting at my uncle's, and, as if to test my faithfulness, two young women of my intimate a.s.sociates came in, and sat one on each side of me. At the first season of prayer, as I did not have that impression, I felt quite at ease, and thankful to my Father in heaven for excusing me. But the next united supplication, I felt that I must unite with them in kneeling, and while one tried to pull me up by the arm, with saying "I'd be a little dunce if I was in thy place," the other sister pinched the other arm, "Now, Laura Smith, be a little Methodist, will thee? I'd be ashamed if I was thee; every body will make fun of thee." But I kept my position and made no reply, but secretly prayed for strength in my great weakness. But my fears were fully realized. It was at once reported that Laura Smith would be a Methodist if allowed by her parents. And for a long time no permission was given to attend those little prayer-meetings, my parents a.s.signing this reason: "This Methodist excitement is unprofitable, especially for children. They have an overheated zeal, that is not according to knowledge, and we do not think it best for thee to attend; we want our children at a suitable age to be actuated by settled principle, not mere excitement." This reasoning by my dear father strongly tempted me to give up my resolutions altogether. Until I was eighteen I felt no liberty whatever in unburdening my troubled heart to my dear parents. They were unacquainted with the longings of my poor soul. Like the lone sparrow upon the house-top, I mourned many weeks, sought the solitary place for reading my Bible, and prayer; often watered my pillow with tears, and longed for the day, and during the day longed for the night, in which I might pour out my sorrows to my Heavenly Father out of sight of human eye. I was conscious that my sadness was troubling my dear parents. Oh! how I prayed for light to dispel this darkness and doubt--sometimes ready to conclude that, as it was my duty to obey my parents, the Lord would excuse me in waiting until I was of age. Yet in reading the many precious promises of the Lord Jesus, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest;" "Seek, and ye shall find," I found fresh courage.

But why do I not find this rest for this weary heart? Why do I not find the way to seek for the hidden treasure I so much longed for? These queries were continually revolving in my mind, without a satisfactory solution. Sometimes I almost concluded that G.o.d was too good to send the beings he created for his own glory to perdition to all eternity, and all would ultimately be saved; at other times, I could not reconcile universal salvation with the parable of Lazarus and the rich man, and was ready to conclude that salvation was for the elected few, and there were those who could not be saved, and I was among the lost.

In one of these seasons, of almost despair, I ventured to attend a Methodist meeting held in a private house, in company with my uncle.

Being at his house, I did not go home for permission. The minister was a plainly dressed man; the opening hymn was new to me, but every line seemed especially for me:

"G.o.d moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform"

It was read and sung in an impressive manner. The fourth stanza seemed specially suited to my case:

"Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace; Behind a frowning providence He bides a smiling face."

This gave new light, new courage, and fresh hope sprang up, like streaks of the morning sunbeam in the Eastern sky, preluding the full blaze of the orb of day. The prayer and the text upon which he based his remarks were all flowing in the same channel. The exhortation was to the discouraged and despairing soul to remember that the darkest time of night was just before the break of day, a remark I had never before heard. I returned home stronger than ever before, and ventured to tell mother of the good sermon preached by Isaac Puffer. But she was again troubled, and reminded me of those we read of in Scripture, who would compa.s.s sea and land to gain one proselyte, that when gained, "were twofold more the child of h.e.l.l than themselves." She also said that my uncles would be well pleased to have me go with them. I a.s.sured her that neither of my four Methodist uncles had ever intimated a word to me on the subject. "But," said she, "actions sometimes speak louder than words." This was not designed to discourage me, but darker than ever was the cloud of unbelief that filled my heart. Was Isaac Puffer a child of h.e.l.l? then there is nothing in religion, with any body. It was all a farce--all mere "overheated zeal, not according to knowledge."

All mere "religious excitement." I well-nigh distrusted all religion, and father's and mother's religion was the same as others, of no value.

I had groped my way in midnight darkness, trying to find the true way, when there was none. In this despairing state, while on my way to my grandfather's on an errand, I halted to listen to the mournful notes of the forest birds at my left; I looked upon the field of waving grain at my right, and burst into a flood of tears as I exclaimed, Oh, what a sin-stricken world is this! Every head of wheat is bowed in mourning with poor me! Is there no balm in Gilead? is there no physician there to heal this sin-stricken world, this sin-sick soul of mine? Like a flash the answer came, Yes, Jesus is that balm; he shed his own precious blood for me on Calvary, that I might live now, and for evermore! Yes, the healing balm is applied, and I _am saved!_ Oh, what a fountain is opened for cleansing! My peace was like an overflowing river. It seemed as if I could almost live without breathing--my tears were brushed away by the breath of heaven. I stood a monument of amazing mercy, praising G.o.d with every breath. All nature praising, instead of mourning as it did a few moments before. O, how changed the scene! The birds now sent forth their notes of praise! The leaves of the forest clapped their hands for joy, and the branches waved with praise! Every head of wheat was now bowed in sweet submission. O, what a leveling of all nations of the earth was this baptism. I had been prejudiced against the Irish people, as I never had seen one of that nation until they came to our town, Lockport (as it was then called), by hundreds, to work on the Erie ca.n.a.l, that ran through a part of father's farm; and as they were frequently pa.s.sing our house drunk, I was afraid of them. But now every soul seemed so precious, I thought I could toil all my life long if I could become instrumental in bringing one soul to the Savior who died to save sinners, though they might be the greatest drunkards in that or any other nation. Jesus shed his blood to redeem all who would by faith accept salvation so freely offered. The African and Indian races were alike objects of redeeming love. That was a fathomless fountain. After spending a little time in this reverie, I went from this hallowed place to accomplish my errand, and met a neighbor, who looked at me earnestly and said, "Laura, what's the matter? are you sick?" "O, no; I'm not sick," and hurried on. And the first greeting I received from grandfather was the same query, who received the same reply. I left for home as soon as the errand was accomplished, but as I was pa.s.sing out of the door I met my Uncle Americus with the same query, who also received the same answer. Oh, how I wished father and mother could understand me, and the overwhelming sorrow I had waded through in search of this satisfying portion.

If any little differences arose among my younger brothers and sister, all melted away with a word from me. This unalloyed peace remained with me a number of days, and when the time arrived for the appointed prayer-meeting at Uncle Ira's, I had a great desire to attend it, and I hoped, by asking for permission to go, mother might ask for my reason.

In this I was disappointed with a denial. However, I continued to pray to Him who owned me as his child, to prepare the way in his own time.

My anxiety increased to do something for my dear Savior, who indeed was chief among ten thousand. I could drop a few words here and there, but with great timidity, but nothing of my experience in this new life; that was hid with Christ in G.o.d. I was anxious to attend that little prayer-meeting, where my mind first was arrested on the subject of my soul's best interests. I often dreamed of earnestly praying or exhorting in that prayer-meeting, and would awaken myself in the exercise. I had a longing desire to invite to this gospel feast others, especially my young a.s.sociates.

As Isaac Puffer had an appointed meeting at a brother Crane's, half a mile distant, on Sabbath at four o'clock P. M., I asked father for permission to attend, hoping thereby to find liberty to open my pent-up feelings to my dear parents, who so little understood me. But my hopes were vain. Father said, in reply, "Laura, I want thee never to ask me to go to a Methodist meeting again."

O, what a blow was this for my trembling frame! The door closed more tightly than ever before. Not one word could I utter. I left the room, to find my old resort in the grove, to weep bitter tears of disappointment. But widely different was this burden, now resting upon my heart, from that mountain weight of sin and transgression borne a few weeks previously. I read a few days before of the baptism of the Lord Jesus, our perfect pattern. But he came to fulfill. Then I read of Philip and the apostles who baptized after his ascension; and to my young and limited understanding I accepted the water baptism as an outward acknowledgment of the saving baptism of the Holy Ghost. I fully believed I had received the spiritual baptism, but I greatly desired to follow the Lord Jesus wherever he might lead. I read "Barclay's Apology" on that subject; yet my childhood mind dwelt much on what I read in these Bible examples. But to no human being did I present these impressions. And I also found the example of singing, that I believed was _vocal_, as I read, "And they sang a hymn and went out." And it seemed right, for the present, for me to unite with the Methodists, were it not for the opposition of my parents, that I felt sure would not exist could they but understand me. It also seemed clearly impressed upon my mind that, if my mind should become clear to unite with that branch of the Christian Church, it would be for eighteen or twenty years at longest. But why not always be my place, if it is my duty now? was a query that I much dwelt upon. I earnestly prayed that G.o.d would send Caleb McComber to us, an intimate friend of my parents, and a noted minister among Friends.

Within a week my heart leaped for joy at the announcement by my father that Caleb McComber was in the neighborhood.

"What has brought him here at this time? His brother (Dr. Smith) is all right; he has made no trouble of late in drinking," responded mother.

"I do not know, I am sure, what has induced him to come here at this time, as there is no meeting of business on hand, for him to take this journey of nearly a hundred miles to attend," rejoined father.

Ah, the Lord has heard and answered prayer! He has heard the cry of this poor child "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits." I could, with David, praise him with a full heart, and sought a lone place to return thanksgiving and praise to him who had so signally answered my pet.i.tion, and was confident that the same All-seeing Eye and Directing Hand would prepare the way for the desired interview.

The following day being the Sabbath, we listened to a sermon by Caleb McComber that was thought very singular at that day for a Friend. His text was 1 Corinthians xii, 6 and 7; "And there are diversities of operations, but it is the same G.o.d which worketh all in all." He referred to the diversities of denominations, that were as families composing the one true Church. And in this diversity of operations there were those whose impressions of duty were clearly given in regard to complying with outward ordinances, water baptism and the Lord's-supper; and if these impressions were not complied with, a loss would be sustained in spiritual life. And he exhorted to faithfulness in obeying our Lord and Master. This discourse appeared as directly addressed to this trembling child as did that of Isaac Puffer.

At the close of the meeting, said one of the elders to another, "Did thou ever hear just such a sermon from a Friend? I thought it sounded like a Presbyterian discourse." Said another: "What ails Caleb to-day.

I thought he preached like a Methodist." While these remarks were made I felt confident we had listened to a message from the Great Head of the true Church by his servant.

As he dined with our nearest neighbor, in company with his half-brother, Dr. Isaac Smith, and wife, we all walked in company nearly to our home, and the two young women invited me to call. I accepted, with the excuse, for a drink of water (hoping for an opportunity of telling that good man that I desired to have a talk with him, and for that purpose would call after dinner).