The Year of Grace

Rev. William Gibson

“Not far from the spot where this took place stands a large school, belonging to the corporation of London, or that body connected with it, known as the Irish Society, who are landlords of Coleraine and of much property around. In it a boy was observed under deep impressions. The master, seeing that the little fellow was not fit to work, advised him to go home, and call upon the Lord in private. With him he sent an older boy, who had found peace the day before. On their way they saw an empty house, and went in there to pray together. The two schoolfellows continued in prayer in the empty house till he who was weary and heavy-laden felt his soul blessed with sacred peace. Rejoicing in this new and strange blessedness, the little fellow said, ‘I must go back and tell Mr .’ The boy, who, a little while ago, had been too sorrowful to do his work, soon entered the school with a beaming face, and, going up to the master, said, in his simple way, ‘ O Mr , I am so happy; I have the Lord Jesus in my heart.’ Strange words in cold times! Natural words, when upon the simple and the young the Spirit is poured out, and they feel what is meant by ‘Christ in you the hope of glory,’ and utter it in the first terms that come! The attention of the whole school was attracted. Boy after boy silently slipped out of the room. After a while, the master stood upon something, which enabled him to look over the wall of the playground. There he saw a number of his boys ranged round the wall on their knees in earnest prayer, every one apart. The scene overcame him. Presently he turned to the pupil who had already been a comforter to one schoolfellow, and said, ‘Do you think you can go and pray with these boys?’ He went out, and, kneeling down among them, began to implore the Lord to forgive their sins, for the sake of Him who had borne them all upon the cross. Their silent grief soon broke into a bitter cry. As this reached the ears of the boys in the room, it seemed to pierce their hearts, as by one consent they cast themselves upon their knees, and began to cry for mercy. The girl’s school was above, and the cry no sooner penetrated to their room than, apparently well knowing what mourning it was, and hearing in it a call to themselves, they, too, fell upon their knees and wept. Strange disorder for schoolmaster and mistress to have to control! The united cry reached the adjoining streets. Every ear, prepared by the Spirit, at once interpreted it as the voice of those who look upon Him whom they have pierced, and mourn for Him. One and another of the neighbours came in, and at once cast themselves upon their knees and joined in the cry for mercy. These increased, and continued to increase, till first one room, then another, then a public office on the premises, in fact, every available spot, was filled with sinners seeking God. Clergymen of different denominations, and men of prayer, were sought, and they spent the day in pleading for the mourners; - sweetest of all the toils that earth can witness, when men, themselves enjoying heavenly peace, labour in intercession for those who are now, as they were once, broken-hearted by a sight of their sins, and striving to enter in at the strait gate, in order to walk in the narrow way! Thus passed hour after hour of that memorable day. Dinner was forgotten, tea was forgotten, and it was not till eleven o’clock at night that the school premises were freed from their unexpected guests.”

The following statement respecting the movement in Coleraine is furnished by the Rev. J A. Canning of that town: -

“Upon the evening of the 7th of June 1859, an open-air meeting was held in one of the market-places of the town, called the ‘Fair-hill.” The announced object of the meeting was to receive and hear one or two of the ‘converts,’ as they began to be called, from a district some eight or ten miles south of Coleraine. The evening was one of the most lovely that ever shone. The richly wooded banks of the river Bann, which bounds one side of the square in which the meeting was held, were fully in prospect, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Shortly after seven o’clock, dense masses of people, from town and country, began to pour into the square by all its approaches, and in a short time an enormous multitude crowded around the platform from which speakers were to address the meeting. After singing and prayer, the converts, a young man and a man more advanced in years, and both of the humbler class, preceded to address the meeting. Their addresses were short, and consisted almost entirely of a detail of their own awakening, and earnest appeals to the consciences of sinners. After the lapse of nearly an hour, it became manifest that more than one-half of the congregated multitude could not hear the voices of the speakers on the platform, when it was suggested that the people should separate into distinct congregations or groups, and that a minister should preach to each group. This was immediately done, and some three or four separate audiences were soon listening with most marked attention to as many preachers, for all the ministers of all the evangelical churches in the town were present.

“I was engaged in addressing a large group of people, composed of all ages and of all ranks of the community, from a portion of Scripture, when I became struck with the deep and peculiar attention which manifestly every mind and heart was lending to what I spoke. As to manner, my address was very calm; and as to matter, it consisted of plain gospel truth, as it concerns man’s lost condition on the one hand, and the free grace of God, as displayed in salvation, on the other, I know that the addresses of my brethren were of a like character. I never saw before, in any audience, the same searching, earnest, riveted look fixed upon my face as strained up to me from almost every eye in that hushed and apparently awe-struck multitude. I remember, even whilst I was speaking, asking myself, how is this? Why is this? As yet, however, the people stood motionless, and perfectly silent; when, about the time at which the last speaker was closing his address, a very peculiar cry arose from out a dense group at one side of the square, and in less than ten minutes a similar cry was repeated in six or eight different groups, until, in a very short time, the whole multitude was divided into awe-struck assemblages around persons prostrate on the ground, or supported in the arms of relatives or friends. I hurried to the centre of one of these groups, and having first exhorted the persons standing around to retire, and leave me to deal with the prostrate one, I stooped over him, and found him to be a young man of some eighteen or twenty years, but personally unknown to me. He lay on the ground, his head supported on the knees of an elder of one of our churches. His eyes were closed; his hands were firmly clasped, and occasionally very forcibly pressed upon the chest. He was uttering incessantly a peculiar deep moan, sometimes terminating in a prolonged wailing cry. I felt his pulse, and could discern nothing very peculiar about it. I said softly and quietly in his ear, ‘Why do you cry so?’ when he opened his eyes for an instant, and I could perceive that they had, stronger than I ever saw it before, that inward look, if I might so express it, which indicates that the mind is wholly occupied with its own images and impressions. ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed, high and loud, in reply to my question, ‘my sins! My sins! Lord Jesus, have mercy upon my poor soul! O Jesus, come! O Lord Jesus, come!’ I endeavoured to calm him for a moment, asking him to listen to me whilst I set before him some of the promises of God to perishing sinners. At first I thought that I was carrying his attention with me in what I was saying, but I soon discovered that his whole soul was filled with one idea—his guilt and his danger; for in the middle of my repetition of some promise, he would burst forth with the bitter cry, ‘O God, my sins! My sins!’ At length I said in his ear, ‘Will I pray?’ He replied in a loud voice, ‘Oh, yes!’ I engaged in prayer, and yet I doubt whether his mind followed me beyond the first sentence or two. As I arose from prayer, six or eight persons, all at the same instant, pressed around me, crying, ‘Oh, come and see (naming such a one) and ‘ until I felt for a moment bewildered, and the prayer went out from my own heart, ‘God guide me!’ I passed from case to case for two or three hours, as did my brethren in the ministry, until, when the night was far spent, and the stricken ones began to be removed to the shelter of roofs, I turned my face homewards through one street, when I soon discovered that the work which had begun in the market square was now advancing with marvellous rapidity in the homes of the people. As I approached door after door, persons were watching for me and other ministers, to bring us to deal with some poor agonised stricken one; and when the morning dawned, and until the sun arose, I was wandering from street to street, and from house to house, on the most marvellous and solemn errand upon which I have ever been sent.

“Throughout the following day, the 8th of June, scenes similar to those which I have alluded to continued to occur in private houses in almost every street. In the evening a dense multitude assembled again in the market-place; and again, simultaneously with the preaching of the gospel and prayer, many more than on the preceding evening sank upon the ground, and with bitter cries besought the Lord Jesus Christ to come in mercy to their souls. Profiting by the experience of the preceding night, elders of the churches and other Christian people sought now to find some building where the many ‘stricken ones,’ as they began now to be called, might receive shelter, and the attention of Christian ministers and others until the morning. Just at this period the New Town Hall of Coleraine had been completed, though it had never yet been used for any purpose. Some one suggested it as a fitting place of shelter. The suggestion was at once acted upon; and a solemn interest attaches to the beautiful building from the fact that the first use for which it was ever employed was to shelter many, very many poor sinners, whilst they agonised with God for the pardon of sin.

“I may here mention that our Town Hall has been the scene, for seven months, of one of the most blessed fruits of God’s gracious work among us. Early in June a meeting for united prayer, by members of all evangelical denominations, began to assemble at half-past nine o’clock, to continue for half-an-hour. For months the spacious hall continued to be filled at the appointed hour, and up to this day (January 12, 1860) a very large attendance of earnest worshippers assembles for praise and prayer. In the month of August the writer suggested that a copy of the Word of God should be purchased for the use of this union prayer meeting, and to serve as a memorial to other times of the gracious work of God among us. The suggestion was very ardently adopted, and a copy of the Scriptures, of the largest size, and in very costly binding, was procured, and now, with a suitable inscription on the fly-leaf, appropriately and impressively witnesses every morning for Him who sent ‘times of refreshing.’”

“As I wrote the last sentence, our local newspaper was put into my hands, and I extract from it the following statement from the bench of our local County Court, by a judge who would adorn any bench: -

“‘The Barrister, addressing the Grand Jury, said— “When I look into the calendar for the last three months, and in memory look back on calendars that came before me, I am greatly struck with its appearance on this occasion. During the entire three months which have passed since I was here before, I find that but one new case has to come before you, and one which is in some respects very unimportant.” After directing the jury as to this case, his Worship continued, — “Now, gentlemen, as I said before, I am greatly struck at the appearance of this calendar, so small is the number of cases, when I formerly had calendars filled with charges for different nefarious practices, pocket-picking, and larcenies of various sorts. Now, I have none of these, I am happy to say. How is such a gratifying state of things to be accounted for? It must be from the improved state of the morality of the people. I believe I am fully warranted now to say that to nothing else than the moral and religious movement, which commenced early last summer, can the change be attributed. I can trace the state of your calendar to nothing else. It is a matter of great gratification when we see the people of this country improving, and I trust that no temptations of any sort will arise by which they can be induced to forsake the paths of rectitude.”’ ”

There is one incident, in the form of a personal narrative by an individual from Coleraine at a meeting in Glasgow, which is so extraordinary that it cannot be omitted here. I have made inquiry into the accuracy of the statements, and find them perfectly correct. The name of the narrator is Mr Haltridge: -

“It was in the year,” he said, “when God was pouring out the vials of His wrath upon the three kingdoms, that I went to Coleraine. When the hand of God lay upon the place, many turned to the Lord; but when it was removed, many turned like the sow that had been washed to her wallowing in the mire. He who stands before you was one of the latter sort. You see one before you who put out his wife to the door, and took her clothes, to the value of £20, and burned them. You see one before you who loaded his gun to shoot his own son. You see one before you who took a car and drove three miles to throw himself into the sea, and was found upon a rock with the billows dashing at his feet. And you would think that this was enough, but not so. You see one before you who was tried for taking away the life of a fellow-creature. I tried to break the Sabbath-day in every possible manner. I took money in my pocket and went to Portrush and other watering places to break the Lord’s Day. Not one in Coleraine would speak to me, and I did not give one in Coleraine the credit of being a Christian but one woman, who always spoke to me and asked for me when she saw me. On a Monday I went to my son, who was cashier, and took charge of my business, and demanded five pounds. It only lasted me that day. I demanded other five on Tuesday; this lasted me till Saturday. The Rev. William Richey had overwrought himself with hard work, and was laid upon his bed. The doctor told him he had only half-an-hour to live (although he recovered after a lingering illness), and asked if he had any matters to arrange before he died. He pulled out a sealed packet from under his pillow, and said— ‘Will you give this to Mr Haltridge?’ It was a few days after this the doctor gave me the package. (By this time I was brought under conviction.) He said he did not know what it was. I opened it. It was that little book, ‘Come to Jesus.’ I was in great distress one day, and I went away from my house about a quarter of a mile. I leaped over the wall and went into a summerhouse there, in order that the dews of heaven might cool my fevered brow. I put my hand into my pocket to pull out my handkerchief, and that little book came into my hand. I would not give it for all Glasgow. One thing had escaped my memory. When the revival broke out, my son, a promising youth of twenty, although not brought under the grace of God, attended a meeting held at Market-Hill, and was ‘stricken’ down. A good woman came to me while I was reading the flimsy trash of the day— ‘novels’ —which I always did. She said— ‘Mr Haltridge, kneel down and give God thanks, your son is stricken down.’ I ordered her to go out of the way, and went to my bedroom, and shut myself up for eight hours. They brought him and laid him on the sofa. I heard his cries. ‘For twenty-four hours no one could tell whether he was dead or alive; but when God revealed himself to Him, the first thing he said was— ‘God be merciful to my wicked father.’ I heard all this. My daughter attended meetings that were held in the schoolhouse. She was ‘stricken down, and cried to God for mercy. The prayers of my Christian wife were now answered. She was a Christian from her youth up. I have seen her often at the bedside praying. I have taken the pillow and thrown it at her, at the same time lifting up my arm and defying God to do His worst. On Sabbath morning I was to go away to spend the Lord’s-day in the same manner as before; but my wife came to the door and said, ‘You will not go out to-day.’ I drew back, and was for making my way out, but she and my daughter laid hold upon me, and drew me into the parlour, and reasoned with me until I promised to go to church. I went to the house of God. A hymn was given out to be sung. It was the same hymn that was blessed to the conversion of an actress. When I came to the second line, God laid His hand upon me; my book was trembling in my hands. My wife saw me going to fall, and let my head fall in her lap. I lay there for two hours. I was not sensible, but they told me I was crying for mercy. When I awoke I was surrounded by kind friends, who were praying for me; but the one that prayed loudest and longest was a boy, fourteen years of age, named John Hall. He had found the Lord himself, and he was crying, ‘Lord reveal Thyself to Mr Haltridge.’ My son took the one arm, and a kind friend the other, and helped me home. I was not able to walk; my feet refused to carry me. On reaching home I was laid upon that sofa on which, a month before, my son was laid. God opened my mouth that night to pray. I got peace from that text, ‘Arise, and go thy way: thy sins, which are many, are forgiven thee; go and sin no more.’ I now felt such love to my fellow men that I thought I could stand on a mountaintop and take the whole world in my arms. And as Christ told His disciples to begin preaching at Jerusalem, I was called upon to speak at meetings held in that place which has been the scene of my former life.”

Nowhere, perhaps, was there a more interesting movement than in Portrush, one of the principal watering places in the north, a few miles from the Giant’s Causeway and during the whole season crowded with visitors, many of whom, there is reason to believe, were sharers in the blessing. I have received a lengthened narrative from the Rev. Jonathan Simpson, from which I give the following selections: -

“By a strange coincidence in Divine providence, both the clergy of the parish church and the Presbyterian minister of Portrush were attracted to Ballymoney in the same week, without any previous concert with each other, to see and investigate the remarkable work of revival going on there in its earliest stages. The former called on the latter, and proposed an open-air union-meeting for prayer, into which he cordially entered; and the three knelt in prayer in the manse, craving a blessing on the proposed meeting, led by the senior Episcopal minister. Their hearts were melted by the love of Christ, and they felt that God was about to give a blessing; nor were they disappointed; blessed be His name!

“The meeting took place on the 6th of June, on the hill in the rear of the town, and was very large, probably two thousand being present: the town contains a population of about nine hundred souls. Short addresses of only a few minutes were delivered by the local ministers and several persons, usually called ‘converts’ from Ballymoney; and a very remarkable scene took place, that will never be forgotten in the village, or by many of its inhabitants in eternity. The first two ‘stricken’ ones were, one a Presbyterian, and the other an Episcopalian, as if God would honour the first union prayer meeting.

“Next morning assembled the first daily union prayer-meeting, which was continued with great success till the close of the bathing season in September. As many as one hundred and fifty-one have been counted leaving it, and in some instances several went away who could not get in; while a ball-room, erected during the summer, could get none to dance in it. The first two mornings a young man, in each case, came under conviction of sin- one Episcopal, the other a Presbyterian.

“The churches were crowded all summer. The Episcopal church has been enlarged, and the Presbyterian would require to be double its present capacity, to contain the anxious applicants for accommodation.

From the numerous cases furnished by Mr Simpson, I select the following as representative of many others:-

An Operation of the Spirit - “On Tuesday morning, 7th June, before going out to the prayer-meeting at seven o’clock, a farmer called at the manse wanting to speak privately to the minister. ‘What have you to say to me?’ ‘Sir, I have got an operation of the Spirit.’ Wonderful spiritual surgery that, that cuts out ‘the hard and stony heart out of the flesh,’ and substitutes ‘a heart of flesh!’ Such ‘an operation’ H. C had got. He had gone home from the union open-air prayer meeting deeply impressed; the burden of sin lay so heavy on his soul he could not sleep. He rose from his partner’s side without telling her of the tempest of agony sweeping his bosom, dressed, took the key of his barn, went there to fall upon his knees, and, like Jacob, ‘wrestle with the Angel Jehovah-Jesus till the dawn of the day,’ and say, ‘I will not let thee go, except thou bless me.’ Like the patriarch he wrestled, like him he sped. He got ‘an operation of the Spirit,’ and, without waiting till his wife was up, he came away to tell the minister, and to ask him if he should make known to others the work of grace on his soul.

The Railway Labourer — “Next evening, after returning from country visits, a man was sitting for me at the manse. He is a railway labourer, had been at the Monday evening meeting, been deeply impressed, and under sore exercises of a sense of sin ever since—had often, during the week, left the other men on the line, and gone behind the fence to weep. At last the proud heart, brought down by conquering grace, must seek relief in counsel, and he came down on a freight-truck attached to a train, and literally ran from the station to seek the minister. On reaching the school, and finding from my teacher I was not at home, the pent-up feelings found relief to a flood of tears. The teacher, a worthy, excellent young man, offered all the counsel he could—came with J.M to the manse, and prayed with him—took him to one of the elders, who also offered counsel and prayer—and sent for the curate, who kindly came and spoke and prayed with him. Still he remained; and when I entered told his story of guilt, while he sat trembling and said he had broken every commandment of God except the sixth and eighth. Besides that, he never set foot in a place of worship, nor bowed the knee to God. On one occasion he was so drunk he lay down on the rails, and only for some one passing and hauling him off, he had been, by the next train, a mangled corpse, and his poor soul in hell; and then he asked if it was possible such a sinner could get mercy. ‘Perfectly so, for God says it— “The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us from all sin.” “Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.” (1 John I. 7 John vi. 37.) After a few more words of counsel, prayer was offered, and he withdrew greatly relieved. He was a young married man, father of ten children, and had no connection with any place of worship. Since then he has been most regular, has also established the worship of God in his family, and has a weekly prayer meeting in his house. His wife and eldest daughter were both afterwards ‘stricken,’ and the three were among nine pleaders before my session to dispense with the usual lengthened examination for the Lord’s Supper, and admit them at our last communion. They were admitted, and ‘go on their way rejoicing.’

The Ploughboy. — “During the prayer in a farm-house one day, there was much emotion. At its close, a tall, stout, able-bodied young man, twenty years of age, R. R , the farmer’s eldest son, approached one of the ministers trembling, and seizing him by the hand as tears flowed fast— ‘Mr S , you can’t leave.’ ‘Why, Robert?’ ‘Oh, you can’t leave me in this state!’ ‘Why what’s wrong?’ ‘Oh, I’m so ill—such a load upon my heart’ ‘But can’t you go with your load to the cross, and Jesus will take it from you? He says, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’” ‘Oh, but I can’t go.’ ‘Can’t you pray Christ to take you?’ ‘No, I’m so ill, I can’t; will you pray?’ So saying, he fell on his knees before me, and I had to proceed in prayer. He had just come in from the plough, with his horses, in time to catch the prayer that, by the Spirit’s grace, enabled him to ‘put his hand to another plough,’ and I thank God he has not ‘looked back.’

The Old Waterloo Man.— “An old soldier of the Duke of Wellington, whose regiment had been disbanded after Waterloo, now seventy-three years of age, had stood, till late in the evening, watching a poor Roman Catholic girl whom some Christian ladies had removed to their house. Next morning early, the old soldier’s wife was down for the minister. Having so many visits to make that day, even with a good steed, it was afternoon before I reached the old man. He sat up in bed half-dressed, and was in an awful agony of prayer, hands clasped, tears pouring, without any attempt to wipe them away. His attention was diverted for a few seconds by my presence, and after tightly grasping my hands for a minute he burst out again in a tempest of prayer, of which this is a specimen: - “O blessed Saviour of the world, melt this hard heart, this wretched heart! It is a hard heart, a wretched heart. O blessed Saviour, pour out Thy Holy Spirit on every wretched sinner like me! Oh, a heart pressed down!’ ‘Pressed down with what, Billy?’ I interposed. He replied, ‘Sin—Satan!’ and then proceeded in prayer: - ‘O Saviour, free me! Oh, wash me in “the fountain opened!” Oh, plunge me in it! I know He’ll not “put my soul to shame, nor let my hope be lost,” O blessed Saviour, I won’t distrust you one jot! O dear Saviour, dear Lord and Saviour, forsake me not!’ When asked what enabled him to pour out such prayers, he replied, ‘It is nothing but the work of heavenly love by the Holy Spirit;’ and catching the idea of ‘heavenly love,’ he interwove it in prayer: ‘O Heavenly Love, subdue me! Oh, He will be my Friend!’ When I asked what I should pray for when I knelt beside him, he replied, ‘For the abundant outpouring of the Holy Spirit on this wretched heart, and on all that desire Him.’ Be it remembered the old man can’t read a word.

The Twin Sisters — “The following is a case of sisters who were affected at the Dunmull meeting: —They continued to pray night and day, ‘Lord, remember me’ - so much so, that their mother has informed me she has heard them repeating it through their sleep. A faithful God listened to artless country girls of sixteen years of age, the only surviving children of their parents, and at the close of a prayer meeting in the neighbourhood both were ‘remembered.’ And how precious the thought that the God of love gave both the second birth the same night, as He had done the natural birth! On our first visit after the ‘Lord remembered them,’ the fountains of feeling were unsealed, and gave forth their sparkling treasures. It was moving to see the girls sitting side by side repeating alternate verses of the 12th chapter of Isaiah. An old gentleman from London, and a rector of Hereford, England, accompanied me. The latter asked to be allowed the privilege of praying in that house, and remarked when we passed out, ‘I wish my bishop had been here to-day. I think he would have altered his next charge to his clergy about the Irish revival;’ and the old Londoner, who was very much overcome, when he had dried his cheeks, lifted up both hands, and exclaimed, ‘Well, if this be hysteria, God grant that London may be soon smitten with it!’

“From a journal kept from time to time, these details are merely excerpts. My record covers over three hundred cases, I dare not say of conversion, but I must say of the mighty Spirit’s power to ‘convince the world of sin.’ From contact with this ‘wonderful work of God,’ and being honoured to take some little part in carrying it on, my spirit has been literally overwhelmed with a sense of my own deep unworthiness; but it were worth living ten thousand ages in obscurity and reproach to be permitted to creep forth at the expiration of that time, and engage in the glorious work of the last six months of 1859.”