Pentecostal Possibilities or "The Story of My Life"
by Milton Lorenzo (M. L.) Haney
CHAPTER 54
The Evangelistic Field Opens Again
At the close of our work in Ipava, as our older son was already in school at Evanston, and the younger was ready to go, we thought best that their mother should keep house there, and care for her boys. So I spent the fifth year after my return to the pastorate, alone at Trivoli, Ill. Great changes had come, and many so dear to me on this territory years before, were gone. Souls were saved here and there, but they were few and far between. The Lord let me know the effects of His calling me one way, and I going another, and from first to last I was under the rod. Before the year was half way through, I told Him if He would let me live to its close, He should never have any more trouble with me about being an evangelist! I have considered it as the only lost year of the fifty-six given to the ministry, though great lessons came out of it.
Some time before conference the Lord asked me, while praying for my youngest boy: "Will you give him up to Me in death?" I did not know the full meaning of the question, but answered in the affirmative. Later I was summoned by a telegram to his bedside, with a clear memory of this question and its answer. He was visiting friends in Brimfield, during school vacation, and had been taken sick. I was with him five weeks, day and night, and the doctors insisted he would pull through; but I had not been able at all to get hold of God for his recovery. In daily correspondence with his mother, I assured her in case he became worse I would call her, and the time came. He gave blessed assurance of salvation, and had victory in death. His oldest brother and only sister had been long in glory, and he had never seen them. His sufferings in that last night were severe, and we suffered with him. Before the end came I had a deep inner sense of the presence of our two sainted darlings. The boy seemed sinking, and I put my hand under him to raise him up, when he turned his face as though looking behind me. I paused, fearing the change in his position was not best, and said: "Lewis, my dear, what is the matter?" and he responded: "O, Pa, I was looking at those beautiful angels!!!" I sang the stanza:
"I know I am nearing my heavenly home,
My spirit loudly sings;
The holy ones, behold, they come,
I hear the noise of wings!"
He repeated the words, "heavenly home" till his voice seemed lost in death. I bent over him, saying: "Lewie, do you know Pa?" and there was no response. His mother said: "We will not hear his voice again!" "Lewie, my dear," I asked, "do you know Jesus?" and he answered, "JESUS! O YES, HE IS MY BLESSED SAVIOUR!!!" The mention of that name had brought him from the grip of death, to tell us of its power; and he spoke not again.
We cannot forget the love lavished upon us in this bereavement, by the dear people at Brimfield. Our boy died at the home of Mr. Elias Chichester, whose wife was a member of the M. E. Church, but he was not a Christian. The dear man so loved my boy that he insisted on meeting the entire expenses of his funeral. This was not permitted, but there never was an offering which came from the heart of a man more freely than this. He still lives and we would so rejoice to hear he is saved.
There was nothing left unsettled, when I came to Conference in this year of 1875, as to my future course. It was plainly the will of God that I should ask a location, which would leave me free to go wherever I was called. I so did, and my request was granted. My friends were grieved that I had not asked a supernumerary relation, but I felt then, and have seen since, that I was in the order of God. In subsequent years, my Conference surprised me by re-admitting me, and made me a superannuate! This the Bishop recommended, as it would leave me perfectly free, as an evangelist, to go where I chose, and no Presiding Elder could order me into an appointment. Just before Conference closed, Bro. Sedore came to me with a serious question, which his Elder wanted me to settle. He had been on the Secor Circuit, and Bro. Hall, his Presiding Elder, wished him to return. He was a very decided holiness man, and there was opposition to his return. From the opening of Conference his name had been down to return, but on the last morning a pile of letters came from Roanoke, a new town which had sprung up, declaring, if he returned they would not receive him! This placed the elder in a bad plight and he came to Sedore with the letters. All other points desired his return, but here was determined opposition. There was to be but one more meeting of the cabinet and this had to be settled at once. Bro. Sedore really desired to return, and it was bad to move him. Finally the elder told him to take the letters to me and get my judgment about it quickly. Having read them I said: "You tell Bro. Hall to say nothing about these letters to the Bishop, and I will go and put you through at Roanoke." So after my boy went to glory, I went over to fill the contract. They had built a nice new church, and we had there an interesting society. I was an utter stranger, which was in my favor, and opened up on holiness. The opposition rose to a flame. I told Bro. Sedore to keep hands off and be quiet. If there was any fighting to do, I would yield the sword. There was a Bro. Shelenberger, who was a school teacher about forty years old. He was the leader in the fight, and would spring up and make a speech against sanctification again and again. I would stand and let the brother relieve his soul, and then go on as though nothing had occurred! I saw Shelenberger intended to be a good man, but he had been wrongly taught. There was little the matter with the other brethren, only they were badly backslidden. Father Barney was a princely old man lying back of the fight, but was wise and quiet. I kept preaching to the church, but Father Barney would come and insist that I open the batteries on sinners, saying the church was now all in harmony and ready for a great work. I insisted that I greatly loved to preach to sinners, but the Lord yet held me to preach to the church, and assured the old man that the first hour the Lord would let me, I would go for the sinners. One night our dear Bro. Shelenberger got onto a bench and made a fearful effort, swinging his arms like a pugilist, but before he got through, the Lord confused him, and he broke down utterly, came to the altar, got restored and sanctified wholly, and became a flaming advocate of holiness, and is testifying now, in glory, to the all-cleansing blood.
Father Barney was rich, and a dashing business man a lumber merchant. I saw his old white head down at the altar pleading for mercy with other leading men, and God came and cleaned up the altar! His son-in-law was an old school teacher, but had broken down in health, lost heart, and Father Barney thought he was shiftless. He lived in a shell of a house between Father Barney's and the new church, but they had no intercourse whatever. Week after week, month after month, he passed the home of his only daughter, as a stranger. She had a large family and they were very poor, and their house a skeleton. But the next morning after Father Barney got saved, God had some chores for him to do at once. So he went straight to this home of poverty, in tears, made up with poor Bill, kissed his daughter and the children, and they all wept together. But before leaving he said to Bill: "I have everything you need to make this house comfortable. Make out your bills and come over to the lumber yard and get what you want." So before winter Bill's house was a place of comfort, and he was saved, though the state of things which had existed had made him an infidel. His wife and older children were saved, and Father Barney had a happy heart and home.
A few days after he was brought out into light I was invited to dine with him, and we were seated at his table. The old man lifted the knife and fork to carve the turkey, and laid it down. Sitting back in his chair he said to me, "Brother Haney, if you had let us fellows have our war, we would have all gone to hell together!" How many churches are in like condition today, and the mass of them will perish if somebody doesn't stand in the breach. Dear Brother Wheeler was a shoemaker, but was broken down with consumption of the lungs. He was a man of God, and hungry for holiness; and men of God are thus hungry. He had reached the experience, and was so interested in the meeting that he attended till I feared he would shorten his life. One day I forbade him to come to church till he had gotten more strength saying to him, "You owe what little of life you have left to your wife and those three children." I had noticed an old "Root and Herb" doctor down town, and I said, "You go down and let him give you a bottle of his medicine, and stay at home now till you are able to be out." I had no thought that anybody could save his life, and felt certain he would die in the spring at the farthest. The upper lobe of his left lung was now gone. He had abandoned all business, and was going right forward toward death. He yielded to my directions, and, coming in later, I saw an immense bottle of roots and herbs on the mantel, and urged him faithfully to take it according to directions. The next evening I called again, and as I met Brother Wheeler in his room I was so surprised at his appearance that I threw up my hand and said, "Why, Brother Wheeler!" and in my confusion was going to say "that medicine is curing you;" but looking at the bottle, it was full to the cork! So I did not finish the sentence, but Brother Wheeler blushed. After a moment's quiet, he said: "I guess I must tell you all about it. Yesterday morning I rose with a strong impression on my mind, if I would take a glass of water and go upstairs and kneel down where I pray and drink that water in the name of Jesus Christ, I would be healed, but it seemed so simple I thought it must be a trick of the devil. I took your advice and got the medicine, but that impression was so strong I did not dare to take it. This morning I rose with the impression stronger than ever, and after breakfast I went upstairs with a glass of water and knelt down, but I never had a harder time to swallow nauseous medicine than I had to get that water down my throat. But the moment I swallowed it, a health-giving power went all through me; and, Brother Haney, I am healed!" I took tea with him, and he went to church that night and testified that God had healed him. He returned to business right way, and, so far as I have heard, has been a strong man ever since. Years after this I asked him if he had no trouble with his lungs, and he said, laying his hand across his left lung, "From here up I am sensible; on this side I have no lung, but the lower part is sound, and I breathe through it perfectly. The other is sound. I have had no trouble with either since I was healed; and I will never die with consumption." I think the above is the exact substance of his statement, but in every case may not be his exact words. He was afterwards licensed to preach, as a local preacher and is, as far as I have heard, a blessed man of God. Of his present location I am not certain, but he can be found, if desired. Why do God's people keep on doubting, whether anybody can be healed by faith in Jesus Christ?
The meeting at Roanoke was a marvelous meeting, and many were saved. There was a point on Brother Sedore's circuit where he wanted to build a church, but the society had been divided and were worshipping in a school house. So he begged me to help him there. On Sabbath night I noticed a young man who was evidently intelligent but fearfully scarred by the devil. The seats rose from the front to the back, and he was on the back seat. I was so drawn to him while preaching that I determined to speak with him. He had to come down the left aisle to get out, and I waited for his coming. He seemed to feel that I was after him an before he got to me he was nearly on a run, so I did not reach him, but asked a brother who that young man was. He answered, "Oh, that is Tom Delano, a miserable drunken tramp. He came down from El Paso to husk corn, to get a suit of clothes, and went with the money to make the purchase, but passing a saloon he saw some of his old chums and invited them to drink, and now, after a week's debauchery, he has come back to try it over again." I said, "Where does he stop?" and he answered, "At Brother Sutton's." I said to Brother Sutton, "I would like to go home with you tonight." Brother Sutton was a renter and in a poor house compared with the house where I lodged, and he said, "Brother Haney, you know we would be very glad to keep you, but we are poorly situated." "O," replied I, "never mind. I want to stay with you tonight." Tom was out of sight, and rose early, and asked Sister Sutton to get him a lunch and he would not wait for breakfast! I heard of it and was ready when he started to the field to start also. Overtaking him I opened my message, in response to which he said: "Mr. Haney, my Maker would not look at me if I were to seek Him ever so earnestly." I said, "But Tom, I know the Lord a great deal better than you do, and He is going to save you." He gave me some outline of his wicked life, and a fuller recital afterwards. He was the child of a drunken father who had died, when Tom was five years old, with delirium tremens. He was left in the care of his grandfather, who was severe in his government. From his earliest memories he had an inward hankering for something, he did not know what, and much of his childhood was put in with weeping. When seven years old a man gave him some tobacco and it was delicious to his taste! He had thereafter begged it of the boys, and men, and used it, though it cost him a great many beatings. When sixteen years old he ran away from his grandfather, and, testifying that he was older, was mustered into the army, and lay drunk for two hours the next day. When he first came in contact with whiskey it was an enchantment to him, and he now felt it was that he was crying for when a baby!
Fathers and mothers who make themselves vile with tobacco and whiskey, will leave to their children the legacy of an inherited appetite for the one, and the other! Tom soon became beastly as a drunkard, and was driven out of the army, but sobered up and joined the navy under an assumed name. He was driven from the navy and joined a circus, such as a million professing Christians attend, who are not found in the prayer meeting, and played the drunken Irishman. He was soon kicked out of that, and afterwards got railroad employment, but lost it, and was now husking corn to get a decent suit of clothes, and under a false name to escape the just penalties of violated law. His true name was Thomas Corwin Dilse, being named for "Old Tom Corwin" of Ohio.
I have never known a case where the Holy Spirit sent me after a man like He did in this case, that the man did not get saved, and I was sure of Tom's salvation and put all the courage into his wretched soul that I could in this first conversation. That afternoon we had prayer service in a private house, up two miles north. When about half way through the service, the door opened and there stood Thomas Dilse! Looking me in the face he said: "I am a poor, vile sinner, and feel that I am lost, but I come to give myself over to you people, and if you can do anything for me, for God's sake do it!" The second night from that he sprang to his feet and shouted aloud the praises of God. Many doubted, but I did not, as I had intelligence from headquarters about the case. Tom had to tell me his whole heart before God saved him, and would have publicly confessed more than I have written but I advised otherwise. There may be private crimes in the past of a sinner, with which the public has no business. He had to agree to make right personal wrongs, which he afterwards did, and publicly confessed all I would let him! and God took him in as His child! Tom had two days of glorious light, but the second night he was back at the altar again. I thought Satan had been assaulting him and went to the rescue, saying to him: "Brother Tom, don't you think you were converted the other night?" "O, yes," he said, "I know I was." "Well, have you given way to sin in any instance and brought yourself into trouble?" "No," he said, "but you know my wretched life, and today that old appetite for strong drink has come upon me like a flood, and I am afraid to trust myself with it, so I have come forward to seek sanctification!" This looked like very rapid work for one who had been so lost, but the next night God did sanctify his soul. How few there were who believed it, but I did. That was twenty-eight years ago last December, and Tom has been testifying through those years that from that night he has never once desired whiskey! It is easy for men and the ministry to doubt this, but their doubts do not make the truth of God of none effect, nor change the facts of history. Thomas Corwin Dilse has been a preacher of the Gospel, with authority from the church, for above twenty five years, and now lives in Nebraska, at the head of a large family. Glory to the Father, Son and Holy Ghost! Amen!!
There were added services in this first year of my return to the evangelistic field, which were marked and marvelous. Towns and cities, and places in the country, were made centers of convicting, converting and sanctifying power, closely allied to Pentecost. At Moline and Rock Island God did not fail to make Himself known. At Bowen, Littleton, Ashland, Burnside, Sadorus and La Harpe His Spirit confronted opposing powers and in some of these places swept everything before Him. In Southern Illinois, also, it was enchanting to see God work.
These were days of much simplicity and more ready obedience than seem to characterize us now.