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The Life And Ministry Of Frank Matthewman
My Dear Brother In The Lord,—I feel somewhat diffident about complying with your request for a sketch (for publication) of my call by grace and to the ministry, inasmuch as it brings forcibly to my mind 1 Kings 20:11, "Let not him that girdeth on his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off," but again, I thought it might be blessed by the Lord to some young disciples, who possibly have been discouraged by the damping process alluded to in a recent article by pastor T. Jones, which, though unpleasant in operation, doubtless has some beneficial effects. I was born at Lockwood, in Yorkshire, on March 10th, 1870. My parents and grandparents had all been associated with Rehoboth, and my father being superintendent,…
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The Life And Ministry Of Frank Fells
Dear Christian Brother,—I feel it to be a very solemn and sacred matter to write a short sketch of one's life. At your request, however, I will attempt to do so, craving Divine help, and guidance, so that experiences may be recorded, which shall most benefit those who read, and afford matter for reflection, and meditation to the spiritually discerning, who are able to see, couched in the language, the working of the Holy Ghost. Being born in the town of Hitchin, on August 9th, 1866, it is my delight to look back and remember that the Lord began to deal with me at a very early age. I could not have been more than eight years old when spiritual impressions were first made upon…
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The Life And Ministry Of F. G. Burgess
Dear Mr. Editor,—I have been born twice; firstly, in the village of Tilehurst, near the Town of Reading, Berks. My life has been a chequered one. At the age of eleven I found my dear mother sitting in her chair dead. Her sudden exit was probably caused by heart-disease. Shortly after this, upon my father's remarriage, I left the parental roof, and have from that time been getting the bread that perisheth by the sweat of my brow. After spending a year or two in different places in the country, I went to the Metropolis, where for several years I was left to plunge into sin. My only wonder is that God did not banish such a Wretch from the earth. Returning to the Town…
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The Life And Ministry Of Charles Guy
Our brother, Mr. I. C. Johnson, informs me you have expressed a wish to be furnished with a few details concerning my unworthy self, for use in our denominational magazine. Those details will be mainly of such circumstances in my life as are particularly connected with the particular and special mercy of a covenant God. One in looking back upon all the past, feels to have more occasion than others to gratefully hymn:— “O to grace how great a debtor, Daily I'm constrained to be." On the 19th of July, 1857, my eyes first saw the light of day in the old town of the beautiful Sussex sea-side resort, Eastbourne. Several times during my boyhood days was I brought in imminent danger of losing my…
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The Life And Ministry Of Charles Masterson
It is with a feeling of pain that those words, "the late," are penned. It is, alas! too true. Charles Masterson is no more. Stay! that is not exactly correct. Charles Masterson is alive for evermore. The goodly tabernacle has been suddenly shaken down, but its fall has not ruined its late resident. Absent from the body, he is present with the Lord. Our beloved brother began his natural life in the parish of Laxfield Suffolk, in the year 1846. He was, therefore, still in the prime of life when stricken with his last illness, being only forty-seven when the Master called him home. The Lord had need of him. How many of God's ministering servants have need to bless Him for godly parents. The…
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The Poetic Testimony Of Thomas Poock
Dear friend in the gospel, you ask for a line, The which I will send you as I can get time; And this is the subject on which I shall dwell— To write of my Jesus, who sav'd me from hell. I often am led of my history to think; And while I remember, I shudder and shrink. My birth was all sin, my nature all foul, It makes me oft weep, ofttimes do I howl. In childhood I was of my mother bereft; Ah! then to the mercy of man was I left; But man, he forsook me, regardless of claim, A helpless, a friendless outcast I became. The workhouse receiv'd me, and there was I found By an uncle, who travell'd many miles…
