Autobiography of Frank G. Allen, Minister of the Gospel Part 8

But, alas! how sadly blurred is the picture by many made! It is sad to see one's religion sour with age. While young and strong the loved disciple on the bosom of the Master leaned. Then when age had dimmed his eagle eye, and time had stolen his elastic step, he had the same love for his children in the faith. His was a sweet old age, the outgrowth of a life of faith and love. He grew old gracefully. When brought, as was his wont, and before his congregation set, his last sermons were mainly the touching, tender words, "My little children, love one another." O, that his mantle could on many of us fall! But oft, alas! we see grow cross, self-willed and sour the shepherd of the flock. This, too, when age should give his words both weight and wisdom. Lord, give me poverty and affliction, if it be thy will, but save me, I pray, from this sad end. Far better that one die young, than grow old against the grain. "Is life worth living?" the sages ask.

That depends on how one lives it. Lived aright, it is worth living, and many such worlds as this beside. Otherwise 'tis not. Of right living, the more the better; of wrong, the less. The life lived faithfully to G.o.d, can never be too long; its opposite, too short.

Of the half-century, this day gone, one claim I can safely make--it was not spent in idleness. The years to Satan's service given, were well to his account put in; and those devoted to a better cause, I have tried to give as faithfully to Him to whom they all belonged. For the years in Satan's service spent, like Saul of Tarsus, I conscientious ignorance plead. O'er eyes unused to heaven's light, sectarianism's vail was thick. But no sooner was known the way of life, than in its path I tried to walk; and in it have I tried to keep, till this good day. Thus equally divided has the time been spent. Except the years of childish innocence, twenty-five were in the service spent of him who for this life pays the soul in spurious coin, and leaves it bankrupt in the life beyond; while an equal number, praise the Lord, have a better Master claimed. For the rest of life, be it long or short, the long side will the right side be, while hitherto it otherwise has been. The periods of service have not before been equally divided, nor will they be again. But the sides have changed proportions, praise the Lord!

Should not this turning-point in life an epoch make? A half century, and a half divided life, in one! Surely I shall not look upon its like again.

The past few birthdays I have noted as those of former years were noted not, and for reasons I need hardly state. The first that deep impression on the mind did make since apprehension was that each would be the last, was three years ago, amid the orange groves of the sunny South. The day was lovely as the Queen of May; and friends more lovely than the day, made it a time not to be forgotten. The feasting of the outer man was the lesser part of the day's enjoyment. "The feast of reason and the flow of soul" was chief. Three of us were seeking health in that sunny land. Two have found it, but not there. In a fairer land by far than this world can boast, did they find the fountain of perpetual health. Beneath the branches of the tree of life, have they also sat and plucked its leaves for the healing of the nations given.

I, the feeblest of the three, and thought the nearest to the other side to be, on the sh.o.r.es of time am struggling still. Thus it is with man's poor guessing.

Two years ago the day was cold and bleak. It drizzled through the dreary hours, freezing as it fell. But to many loving hearts, its sleet and rain were not its gloom. On this day was laid to rest in Mother Earth the loved remains of one numbered in the health-seeking trio of the year before. What a contrast with that day one year before! The day and its events, how sadly changed! But such is life. Well do I remember on this asking, "Shall I another birthday live to see?" And well do I remember, too, the thought expressed in grave response. While, in the providence of G.o.d, it was possible, of course, the other way were all the probabilities. But this so oft before the case had been, it left a ray of hope. And that has now been more than realized. As said our sweetest poet, how truly can we say:

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

One year ago, in the balmy breezes of the "Lone Star" State, compelled was I by feebleness of frame to miss the sumptuous feast by loving hands so deftly spread. And sad, yet happy thought, those as ever ready on the poor to wait, are now in those of the Master clasped. And still I linger, and the years go by. Such is life. Deep and many are her mysteries. G.o.d knows it all, but he keeps it to himself. But what are now the prospects for the year to come? Better now, by far, than they before have been in all these dreary years of pain. Would it not be strange, if once again in providence divine I should mingle with my fellow men, and tell them, as of yore, the story of the cross? Indeed, it would; but stranger things have happened. Stranger things by providence divine have come to pa.s.s without the aid of "Warner's Safe Cure," or other disgusting humb.u.g.g.e.ry, with its offensive intrusion into the reading of decent men. The providence of G.o.d is not dependent on patent nostrums; nor is He limited in His healing power to calomel or blue ma.s.s. Prayer is oft more potent than all the noxious drugs of man's device. G.o.d has promised, when consistent with His holy will, the prayers of His believing children to hear and bless. And in numbers more by far than this poor life is worth, have these from earnest, pleading souls gone up to G.o.d. Hence to-day we rest in the cheering hope that these have not been in vain.

Should it please the Lord to give the health I need to fight again the battles of Christian life, what responsibilities will it bring! That strength must all be counted His who gave it. All those years must be wholly His, His cause to serve. The interests of His kingdom to His children left, must be strictly guarded. Conflicts with men, even those we love, will come to him who strictly guards the faith, as Jude directs. In all conflicts with fellow men, for two good graces I humbly pray--the courage of Paul and the gentleness of John.

This holy Lord's-day morning, the sun rose bright and charming as on the seventh day of March it did three years ago in the sunny land of Florida. For the first time in many weary months did I a whiff of the outside air inhale. Oh! how delicious! 'Twas like a prisoner's whiff of the air of freedom. But this was not the best. To sit again with the brethren around the table of the Lord and hear again the sweet old story that is forever new, what a feast to the hungry soul! Then the birthday feast is next to be enjoyed. Loved ones gathered at the dear old "cottage home" to celebrate the marked event with music, song and recitation.

The birthday cakes and other "dainty tricks" by loving hands prepared and sent to grace the festive board, told tales of love. One thing alone marred the pleasure of the day and checked the overflow of its cup of bliss: Two loved and loving ones were far away and disappointed in their hope of being here. These would have made the ring complete, the family circle whole. But such, again, is life. Its disappointments will forever come. We should expect them, therefore, and be content.

This is my fiftieth milestone along life's rugged road. At this half-century mark I set up a pillar, as did Jacob of old.

"Here I'll raise my Ebenezer, Hither by Thy help I've come, And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home."

Thus far in life has a loving Father led me, and in his providential care I trust for all the rest. I place my trusting hand in His, asking to be led as He sees the way. "Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah," shall be my constant prayer. And thus, dear Father, the rest of life I leave with thee.

Dear Lord, should birthdays more be mine To spend on earth to Thee, Thy cause shall claim them wholly Thine As earnest work can be.

And should'st Thou will the next be one In Thy bright home above, I gladly say, "Thy will be done,"

And join Thee in Thy love.

COTTAGE HOME, March 7, 1886.

CHAPTER XX.

Conclusion by the Editor. Tokens of Love from Many. Keeps Writing.

Controversy with the _Standard_. Last Meeting with His Mother. Visited by Professors McGarvey and Graham. Commits His Writings to the Latter.

Visits Eminence and Lexington. Many Brethren Come to See Him. Meeting at Mt. Byrd. Estimate of His Character. The Closing Scenes. Farewell to His Family. Dies. Funeral Services.

The foregoing autobiography closes with June 13, 1885, while the life of the author was prolonged till January 6, 1887, and it remains for the editor to record a few of the incidents transpiring in the interval; and to bring this remarkable recital to a close.

Midsummer found Bro. Allen in his "Cottage Home," at Mt. Byrd, growing weaker in body day by day, but with no very acute suffering. Everything that devoted love on the part of his family and church could suggest for his comfort was done; and there were not wanting from abroad many tokens of undying affection, as it became generally known that he was gradually but surely pa.s.sing away. Many of his friends, and especially preachers, came to Mt. Byrd as to a Mecca, to find their pilgrimage repaid in the fresh inspiration received by communing with this saintly man. The company of his brethren did not weary him; on the contrary, it seemed to have a favorable effect on both his body and mind; he greatly desired the visits of his friends, and found comfort in them. Still many were deterred from going to see him for fear it might disturb the quiet which they hoped would contribute to lengthen out his days.

Meanwhile he kept writing with a diligence and persistence marvelous to those who witnessed it, and incredible to others; so much so, that many at a distance could not understand how one so near the grave could continue to write so much and so well; hence the hope entertained that he might survive for years to bless the church and the world. It must be remembered that his disease never affected his mind, and that, like most persons who die of consumption, he retained the full possession of his mental faculties even unto the end. Besides, he was sustained by an indomitable will that hesitated at nothing that stood in the way of duty; added to which was an unfaltering trust in G.o.d and a joyous resignation to His will, causing him to cease praying for longer life.

Propped up in an invalid chair with a convenience of his own invention, he continued his weekly editorials to the _Guide_ as regularly as ever, and developed abilities as an editor that none suspected he possessed till the last years of his life.

It was at this time that the unfortunate controversy began between the _Guide_ and the _Standard_ about our work in London, England, causing so much regret on the part of many friends of both papers. It was feared by some that this controversy would work irreparable injury to our mission enterprises, not only in England, but in other lands, for we all realized that t.i.tans were engaged in the conflict; men, not like those of old, giants in physical strength and daring, but of intellectual power intensified by the love of G.o.d and his cause. Of course the disputants viewed the matter from different angles, and both, we must think, were equally sincere in their convictions. The present writer was not of those who thought upon the whole harm would come of this dispute, though he deeply regretted the asperity with which it was conducted. In our present imperfect state we need, I doubt not, these conflicts to remind us of our frailty, and if only we have grace to profit by them, G.o.d will turn them to our good and to His own glory. It is a source of devout thankfulness to those who knew Bro.

Allen's unselfish purpose, that many who censured his course united with mult.i.tudes who approved it in paying honor to his memory, when the messenger who ends all earthly strifes called him to his final account.

In July, 1885, his aged and revered mother made him a visit, and remained some time; it was their last meeting; and now that her gifted son has gone to his reward, she waits in joyous hope for the day that shall reunite them forever.

A few weeks later it was the pleasure of the writer, in company with Prof. McGarvey, to spend two days at Mt. Byrd, in delightful fellows.h.i.+p with this grand man. He had been apprised of our coming, and was prepared for it. Truly, to him and to us it was a foretaste of the joys of the future world, and we left him the same resolute, confiding servant of Christ he had ever been, wholly resigned to the will of G.o.d and rejoicing in a.s.sured hope of eternal rest.

It pleased his Master to protract his life and usefulness a little longer, and so 1885 closed, and we find him still with his family, receiving many tokens of love from them and from brethren far away.

Spring comes, and birds and flowers; the bright suns.h.i.+ne beams into his chamber, and now and then he is barely able to walk out to see and feel his Father's goodness bathing all things in quiet beauty. He repines not, knowing that "our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory."

He continues to write, and with the rest the preceding chapter of "Reflections on his Fiftieth Birthday." He commits it, his diary, and other writings to me, with the request that I do with them as I think best, for now he is sure that this unequal contest with mortality can not last much longer.

Summer comes, and with it increasing weakness, but no diminution of his trust in G.o.d. He wishes to visit Eminence once more, and to see his two younger daughters graduate from the college that had helped himself in former years. He attends, and then, unable to walk without help, he comes on to Lexington, to spend commencement week among his friends and brethren; this done, he returns to his beloved Mt. Byrd, to leave it no more till he goes to stand with the redeemed on the Mount of G.o.d.

During the fall of this year hardly a week pa.s.sed that several of his relatives and Christian brethren were not found at his home; and did not the limit of this chapter forbid, we would like to record their names, for in love they came to testify their admiration for him and their sympathy with his sorrowing family. For one and all he had a word of cheer, and none came away without being deeply impressed with the conviction that he had been with one of the purest and best of men--one who lived in daily communion with his Maker. His one theme of conversation was religion, and if we may judge from his increasing delight in it, to no one was death a more gentle transition from faith to sight. Narrow, indeed, to him was the bourn that divides the seen from the unseen, the temporal from the eternal, and the labors of earth from the felicities of heaven. He daily lived upon the boundary of two worlds.

In October, Bro. J. K. P. South held a meeting with the Mt. Byrd church, and, though feeble beyond measure, Bro. Allen made out to attend a few times, and even to take part in prayer and exhortation, sitting in his chair. Only twice after this was he able to be carried to the Lord's house, but on neither occasion could he take an active part in the wors.h.i.+p.

In all the relations of life Bro. Allen was a model of all that is lovable in human character--kind, gentle, considerate of the feelings of others, even the least, and always cheerful. A refined and delicate humor pervaded his conversation, which was always chaste and instructive. There was in him a moderation that always attends reserved power, and a candor that was transparent; these qualities, united with an equipoise of intellectual and moral strength, harmony of emotions, and hatred of everything mean or unfair, made him revered by his friends, and an idol in his household. Wife, children, servants, all who came into that charmed circle, were attached to him in a love that bordered on idolatry. To draw a portraiture of this remarkable man would indeed be a pleasing task did s.p.a.ce allow--his logical penetration, depth of feeling, strength of will, energy, industry, unwavering faith in G.o.d and goodness, and, crowning all, his fidelity to the gospel of Christ--but it is unnecessary. To us who knew him these virtues were conspicuous; by others, they may be gathered from the unvarnished story of his life as it is told in the foregoing pages.

We must hasten to the closing scene.

On New Year's day, 1887, he laid down his pen to resume it again no more. He was forced to this by sheer exhaustion; his body was wasted to a skeleton, and it was clear to all that the end was near. Having suffered much for several days, but without a murmur, on the evening of Jan. 5 he requested all his family to come to his bedside, and while their hearts were breaking for grief and all eyes were blinded with tears, he spoke to them for the last time.

"My dear children," said he, "I want to say a few things to you while I can. I may not be able to do it if I put it off longer. I will soon leave you, and I know you will miss me. It is hard for you to give me up, but it is the will of G.o.d, and you must bear up as best you can. I am sure I have always had your love, and you have always obeyed me; and now I want you to always love and obey your mother. Remember, wherever you may be, that you are all of one household. Live in peace, and let no strife or discord spring up among you." Taking the hand of each of his daughters, he asked them to meet him in heaven, and then kissed them good-bye.

Laying his hand upon Frank's head, he said, "My dear son, papa has to leave you." "O papa," said the lad, "pray not to die." "We have prayed, my dear boy, but it is G.o.d's will to take me home, and He knows best.

You must love your mamma and obey her; be good to your sisters. I want you to grow up and become a minister of the gospel. Try to make a better preacher than your papa has been. Be studious and industrious, and live so that you may at last meet me in heaven. May G.o.d bless you, my son, and keep you in His care. Kiss me good-bye."

Throwing one arm around his wife, he said, "My dear, my affliction has been a blessing to me in having you near me all the time. You have been everything on earth that a good wife could be. I have loved you even more in my affliction than I ever did before. I want to thank you for all your kindness to me and loving care of me. If I have ever done or said anything I should not, I want you to forgive me now. I can say on my dying bed that I have always been a true husband to you. I have made the best provision I could for you and the children, and if there should appear any mistakes they have not been of my heart." He then bade her a long and last farewell.

He then blessed his three little grandchildren and kissed them; expressed a desire to see his "dear old mother," brother and sisters once more, and spoke of some business matters a moment, then said, "This is too sacred for that."

For two or three days before this he had been able to speak only a few words at a time; but throughout this interview with his family, his voice was as strong and clear as it had ever been. After this his breathing became difficult, and he could gasp only a single word now and then. He seemed to have no wish to be occupied with this world. The weary traveler had at last reached the goal; and about nine o'clock Thursday night, January 6, 1887, his pure spirit left its frail tenement to suffer no more.

The following account of his funeral, written by his devoted friend and Christian brother, W. K. Azbill, may well close the biography of Frank Gibbs Allen:

"IT IS FINISHED."

It is finished. The struggle with his fatal malady is over at last, and F. G. Allen is at rest. He sank into a quiet sleep last Thursday night, Jan. 6, 1887.

A few friends were notified of the end by telegrams, and that the burial would take place from Mt. Byrd Church on Sunday, but the condition of the Ohio River rendered it extremely difficult to reach "Cottage Home." However, in spite of the difficulties and dangers in crossing the river, and the extreme cold weather, there were seven ministers and a very large audience present at the burial. The people came over the snow and through the snow, in sleighs and sleds and buggies, afoot and on horseback, till the large country audience-room was well filled. The presence of such an a.s.sembly on such a day evinced the truth of what is now widely known, that Frank Allen was loved best where he has lived and labored for the past sixteen years.

The services were begun by Bro. A. W. Kokendoffer, who lead in an invocation of divine blessing and strength and guidance. The congregation then sang "Nearer, My G.o.d, to Thee." The writer read the following Scriptures; John xiv. 1-4, 27, 28; I. Cor. xv. 51-58; I. Thess. iv. 13-18; II. Sam, iii. 31-39, repeating 38.

He felt that he should not, because he could not speak on the occasion. He had followed the inclinations of his own grief, and had come as a mourner and not as a comforter. We had not met to tell how much we esteemed our departed brother, or how much we loved him, or how much we should miss him, now that he has gone.

The gap is a wide one he has left in the family, in the congregation of his love, and in the larger church; and it will seem wider and wider as the days go by. We had come as his brothers and sisters--as those who loved him--to lay him away in the grave, and to ask G.o.d's help and blessing in this time of loss and sorrow.

He then led in wors.h.i.+p, thanking G.o.d for His gift to the church of the precious life that had just been surrendered at His call; praising G.o.d for His love of brave and true men like him; expressing the loving confidence of all that the heavenly Father would deal tenderly with our widowed sister and her children; asking especially that the little boy might live to honor the name of his beloved father, and praying that the dear church, that has borne him on their hearts through all this anxious time of weakness and suffering, might forever be blessed by the memory of his G.o.dly life in it.

The song, "Asleep in Jesus," was then sung, after which President R. Graham, of the College of the Bible, addressed the audience on the life and character of the deceased.