Pentecostal Possibilities or "The Story of My Life"
by Milton Lorenzo (M. L.) Haney
CHAPTER 24
At Galesburg
In the fall of 1855 we were sent to Galesburg, then quite a small city. From the beginning it was designed as an educational center. A colony of good men, of the Congregational Church, had come from the East with the expectation of making Galesburg a community of Congregationalism. In those days there was a wider distance between the churches than now, and the Lord winked at our ignorance! The battle between Calvinism and Arminianism had been hot for fifty years, and the Methodists had fought their way through New England step by step; but God pushed the "old thundering legion" on to the great West, as especially her field. So the Methodists were here, and fancied they were wanted in every town and hamlet!
The opposition to Methodists entering Galesburg was persistent and bitter, but Heck Humphrey (mentioned elsewhere as an eccentric brother) was in the country near by. By some means, at last a lot was purchased for a church building, and Heck had burned a brick kiln in a quiet way, and when the time came, there were wagons loaded with brick, which I never heard numbered, all passing toward Galesburg. The brick were all dumped on that mysteriously purchased lot in a single day, and it dawned on the lords of the city that the Methodists were in Galesburg to stay. There had been a large immigration of Swedes, and Norwegians to Central Illinois, and a wide Methodist revival was begun among them and carried forward by the sainted Bro. Headstrom. Some of his converts were in and about Galesburg. So the new brick church was to be used by Swedes and American Methodists till a better way was opened.
Old father Haskel, a dear, stubbed old Englishman, with his aged wife, were my mainstays in the city. They kept a little grocery and their son, now grown, was widening out into business life. Galesburg heretofore had been a point on the Knoxville Circuit. It was now cut off and compelled to stand alone, and from that time on has been a station, being at present among the strongest and best in the Conference. The little flock I had were true, and did what they could, and the foundations they laid are abiding. We sallied out to points in the country, and were met with open arms. God gave us a good revival and our band kept expanding. Many hundreds of saints have gone from the Methodist Church of Galesburg to glory since that day.
The Dempsey camp ground was in that district, and a camp held there annually. It is a spot of great interest to me, because there I entered the Canaan land. Bro. Woliscroft, an Englishman by birth, but late of Kentucky, was stationed at Knoxville that year and was a burning lamp. His was a ministry of song. He had and used a song book of his own selections, and it was marvelous the way he would move communities with singing. He was among the stronger preachers as well. The Dempsey camp was in his bounds, and he was he leader that year. Crowds were at those early camps, and they were a tremendous power of evangelism. They never included more than one Sabbath, and usually continued less than one week; but they were run at high pressure, and not infrequently continued all night. Sabbath night, on this occasion, was a gracious meeting. At least three thousand people were said to be present, and many were saved.
I saw a strong young man come hurriedly down the central aisle, and, getting a clear view of his face, I involuntarily said: "My Lord, how the devil has scarred that poor soul!" Watching him in the crowd, I saw where he knelt and hastened to him. His was among the most marked specimens of real soul agony I ever witnessed. But two, I think, in all this ministry have surpassed the agony of this young man. I remained with him, feeling that I must not leave him. The struggle was so bitter as to be appalling. In about two hours and a half victory came.
The greatness of the new birth, to me, has rarely, if ever, been more apparent, than in his case. He sprang quickly to his feet, but said not a word. His feelings seemed beyond expression. He stood as though utterly amazed, but in a few moments that piercing eye was peering away through the crowd and he went up that aisle like an arrow. To the right and rear of the audience he found his man. As I was credibly informed, he had come there that night with a dirk in his pocket to stab that very man! They were both leaders of rough men and had been friends, but now were deadly enemies. Finding his enemy, he burst into tears, told what God had done for his soul, and begged the other to forgive him, and put his arms about his neck and brought him in triumph down to the altar! He had conquered his enemy, but had no use for his knife! He was not content till he reached the very spot where God had just saved him, and hastened back to the audience, and brought two others of the same class, and had them kneel on the opposite side of the bench from the first one, so as to have them close together and as near that spot as possible. He was unspeakably happy in God, and his joy increased in seeing these three down at Jesus' feet. He pounded them on their backs, assuring them of salvation right away, till after a time he became quiet and appeared to be reflecting, when he broke out in a quiet way, saying: "My Lord, what a poor shoat I am to be in this place!"
His three friends were beautifully saved, and I had witnessed a scene never to be forgotten. His name was Sydenbender and I had known his father when a boy. I had an after interest in his case. In that year, I think, he was made a Methodist class leader and continued in that office till I lost sight of him twenty-five years later. Here was the heart of a murderer in Deity's sight, changed into love in the twinkling of an eye, and a very rough character made a polished shaft in the service of God! If such men can be thus saved, let none despair. If such results are accomplished by our glorious gospel, why not go forward at once to the world's salvation?