THE STORY OF MARY JONES AND HER BIBLE.

BY MISS MARY EMILY ROPES.

NEW EDITION.

CHRISTIAN WITNESS COMPANY

151 WASHINGTON STREET, CHICAGO. ILL.

COPYRIGHT, 1892 AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY

PREFATORY NOTE.

THE narrative which follows has been carefully founded upon facts obtained from the most trustworthy material—written and verbal—at the disposal of the writer. Since its publication in 1882 the little book has been extremely popular: versions in various languages have been issued, and an American edition has been prepared. It need only be added that the text of this edition has been read by the accomplished authoress, that some statistical information has been added, and that a considerable number of the illustrations are new.

INTRODUCTION.

BY REV. EDWARD W. GILMAN, D. D.,

SECRETARY OF THE AMERICAN BIBLE SOCIETY.

NOT a long story this, but one full of pathos, of a little girl in North Wales, a hundred years ago, who hoarded her pennies for six long years that she might save enough to buy a Bible, and who then walked twenty-five miles, from Llanfihangel to Bala, in her bare feet, to procure the treasure which she had so long desired to own. We mark the record of her desire and faith: "Oh if I had but a Bible of my own!" "I must have a Bible of my own, if I save up for it for ten years." "I shall never rest until I have a Bible of my own." "Though I have waited so long, the time will come when I shall have my Bible." "Dear Lord, let the time come quickly." The fulfilment of her cherished wish rounds out the record of a personal incident and leads us to share the maiden's joy that at last she became the owner of a Bible in her own tongue.

But the pathos of the story is less important than its connection with a great movement which has to do with the enlightenment and welfare of all nations in all coming time.

"Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth." It may be only a spark, but in one moment it becomes a blaze, and if rightly used, its radiance and warmth yield a perpetual blessing. Mary Jones could not prepare her weekly lesson for the Sunday school because in her father's house there was neither Bible nor Testament. Every Saturday she walked to a farm-house two miles away, because there only could she see a copy of the sacred volume. Her parents were poor weavers, but even if they had been well-to-do, Bibles in Welsh were not only costly, but rare, and no one had yet conceived the idea of making the book so portable and so cheap that a copy of God's Word might be found in every dwelling.

But when the story of Mary Jones became known through the Rev. Mr. Charles, of Bala, who supplied her need, when it suggested to God-fearing men the possible condition of thousands of youth in other cottages in Wales, when it revealed to lovers of the Bible the intense desire for the book felt by those who had never had it in their homes, Christian sympathy was bound to make some response. Something must be done. What could be done? Might not some association be formed to print and distribute the Scriptures in Wales? "And if for Wales," said the Rev. John Hughes, one of the Secretaries of the Religious Tract Society, "why not for the world?"

The problem was solved; and so out of the needs and savings and prayers of Mary Jones came in 1804 the British and Foreign Bible Society, an organization catholic in its membership, based on reverence and love for the Holy Scriptures, considerate of the wants of the humble and needy, concentrating its efforts on one definite object, and with a wide and far-reaching enthusiasm for the human race extending its beneficence to all nations, whether Christian, Mohammedan, or pagan. No wonder that the Committee of the Society cherish among their archives the identical Bible which Mary Jones bought in 1800, with her autograph attesting the fact of its purchase when she was sixteen years old.

The key-note of this first movement to supply the world with the Holy Scriptures was sympathy "with the cry that was ascending all over Wales for the Word of God;" but mingled with this tender regard for those who craved the book must have been pity for those who had never even heard of it, and a desire to share with them the blessings which the Bible brings to mankind.

A few years ago a little boy in Connecticut, seven years of age, was sick and nigh to death. He belonged to a "Sunbeam Circle," and had his "mission box" in which his little contributions were treasured up for the foreign field. At his request his mother opened the box that he might see how much there was for "the poor heathen children," and noticing a piece of newspaper among the pennies, she asked, "Why, Miller, what is this? You don't want this in." "Oh yes, I do, mamma. They are beautiful verses about God, and I want the heathen to have them too; I know they will like them." "The Scriptures principally teach what man is to believe concerning God and what duty God requires of man;" and why shouldn't the heathen have them too? If for Wales, why not for the whole world? It is interesting to note that in after years Mary Jones was a constant contributor to the British Bible Society, practising through life the self-denial she had learned in her youth, and that on one occasion when a collection was made at Bryncrug for the

"China Million Testament Fund," a gold piece neatly wrapped up between half-pence, and thus hidden until the money came to be counted, was her expression of sympathy for the poor heathen. Mary was fortunate in securing one copy of ten thousand which were printed in Oxford in 1799, for they were all disposed of before one quarter of the country was supplied. Since then the British Bible Society has printed more than two and a half millions of volumes of Scripture for Wales alone, and about fifty times as many for the world besides.

If a union of Churchmen and Dissenters in one society was a good thing in England, why not in other parts of the world? The idea met with favor in Europe and led to the formation of Bible Societies in Germany, Prussia, and France; but nowhere was it taken up with greater promptness and ardor than in America. British laws had denied to the colonies the privilege of printing the Bible, so that when Mary Jones was born, in 1784, one edition, and one only, of the authorized version had ever been printed on this side of the Atlantic. When we consider that the colonists were thus dependent on the king's printers for their supplies, that the Revolutionary War had for a long time caused a suspension of traffic, and that the country lacked facilities for the production of large editions of the Bible, we can readily believe that the experience of Mary Jones was often repeated here, especially in the new settlements which were being made in the interior.

The necessities of our land were as urgent as those of Wales, and following the example of England, local Bible Societies in great numbers began to be formed. Philadelphia took the lead in 1808, and was soon followed by Connecticut, Massachusetts, New York, and New Jersey. Societies were organized as far south as Charleston, Beaufort, and Savannah. Such men as Jedediah Morse of Charleston and Elias Boudinot of New Jersey were earnest promoters of the movement. The interest of these societies was enlisted in efforts to reach the inhabitants of the great valley of the Mississippi. In 1812 Samuel J. Mills travelled from Boston to Pittsburgh, and from there to New Orleans, exploring the country on both sides of the Ohio and the Mississippi and noting the needs and opportunities of the field. Again he went over the same route, distributing Bibles and tracts.

A region so extended was too vast for the local societies, and to promote harmony, efficiency, and economy they united, in 1816, to form the American Bible Society. It was patterned after that in London, on the same broad, catholic principle, with the same avowed object, with the same world-wide aim. Responsible for a territory vastly more extended than Great Britain, it pledged itself from the first to extend its influence as far as possible to other lands, Christian, Mohammedan, and pagan. Among its earliest publications were Scriptures for the Indians of North America and the Spaniards of South America and Mexico. It has enrolled thousands of auxiliary societies, and with their aid has carried through four general efforts to visit every family in the United States with the offer of the Holy Scriptures. As the nation has acquired new territory in the South and West it has pushed on to provide the Scriptures for the people of Texas and the great States of the interior and the Pacific. In nominally Christian lands it has

been a pioneer of missions, preparing the way by the distribution of the Scriptures for the founding of churches and the establishment of evangelical institutions. As American missionaries have made their way to pagan nations, reducing rude languages to writing and enriching them with new versions of the Bible, it has stood by their side, giving liberally to make their work effective and circulate the printed book. Its Arabic Bible, in the sacred language of a hundred and twenty millions of men, has found circulation in regions as remote as Western Africa and the eastern shores of China. It has its agents resident in the Turkish Empire, in Persia, China, and Japan, in Mexico and Cuba and the various republics of South America, and under their care more than three hundred colporteurs devote their lives to the work of distributing the printed Bible.

Confidently relying on the providence of God, sustained by contributions and legacies and prayers, aided by the willing cooperation of unpaid workers, joining hand in hand with other Societies that look for the evangelization of the world, considerate always for the oppressed and ignorant, the needy and the blind, the prisoner and the immigrant, the mariner and the soldier, the American Bible Society seeks to hasten the time when the open Book shall be found in every household in the land and in the world, and all men shall rejoice in the glad tidings which it brings. And its friends may well join with their brethren in Great Britain in honoring the memory of the humble Welsh maiden whose quenchless love for God's Word was so helpful at the outset of these heaven-blessed charities.

PREFACE TO THE ORIGINAL EDITION.

THIS little book tells how one of the least of seeds has grown to be greatest of trees. It was the earnest desire of the late Mr. William Coles, of Dorking, who was through life a warm and liberal friend of the British and Foreign Bible Society, to learn all he could about its birth. At his suggestion the trustees of the College at Bala generously presented Mary Jones's Bible to the Library of the Bible House in London, where it may now be seen. He was very anxious that the story should be re-told in a way likely to interest the young; and though he did not live to see this volume published, he did from his deathbed see and approve the draft submitted to him. A few days before his death he wrote as follows: "The sketch came to me as a glorious finish to my aspirations. I may never see the book, but from the bright Happy Land—I shall be with Christ and know all." It must not be forgotten that others besides Mr. Charles helped to found the Bible Society. The Rev. Thomas Jones, curate of Creaton, deserves specially to be mentioned. He was the "clergyman in Wales"

who is referred to in Owen's "History of the Society" (vol. i. p. 3), as having interested himself for more than twelve years in calling attention to the dearth of the Word of God in Wales. Let due honour be done to him, and to others like him; but, above all, let Him be praised who disposed His servants to establish an organization for distributing the bread of life to the hungry multitudes of mankind. THE BIBLE HOUSE, 1st December, 1882.

CONTENTS.

CHAP.

I.—AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN

II.—THE ONE GREAT NEED

III.—COMING TO THE LIGHT

IV.—TWO MILES TO A BIBLE

V.—FAITHFUL IN THAT WHICH IS LEAST

VI.—ON THE WAY

VII.—TEARS THAT PREVAIL

VIII.—THE WORK BEGUN

IX.—YOUTHFUL PROMISE FULFILLED

X.—HER WORKS DO FOLLOW HER

THE STORY OF MARY JONES AND HER BIBLE.

A GLIMPSE OF CADER IDRIS.

CHAPTER I.

AT THE FOOT OF THE MOUNTAIN.

O Shepherd of all the flock of God, Watch over Thy lambs and feed them; For Thou alone, through the rugged paths, In the way of life canst lead them.

IT would be hard to find a lovelier, more picturesque spot than the valley on the south-west side of Cader Idris, where nestles the little village of Llanfihangel-y-Pennant. Above it towers the majestic mountain with its dark crags, its rocky precipices, and its steep ascents; while stretching away in the distance to the westward, lie the bold shore and glistening waters of Cardigan Bay, where the white breakers come rolling in and dash into foam, only to gather afresh, and return undaunted to the charge.

The mountain, and the outline of the bay, and the wonderful picturesqueness of the valley, are still much as they were a hundred years ago. Still the eye of the traveller gazes in wonder at their wild beauty, as other eyes of other travellers did in times gone by. But while Nature's great landmarks remain, or undergo a change so gradual as to be almost imperceptible, man, the tenant of God's earth, is born, lives his brief life, and passes away, leaving only too often hardly even a memory behind him.

And now as, in thought, we stand upon the lower slopes of Cader Idris, and look across the little village of Llanfihangel, we find ourselves wondering what kind of people have occupied those rude grey cottages for the last century; what were their simple histories, what their habits, their toils and struggles, sorrows and pleasures.

To those then who share our interest in the place and neighbourhood, and in events connected with them, we would tell the simple tale which gives Llanfihangel a place among the justly celebrated and honoured spots of our beloved country; since from its soil sprang a shoot which, growing apace, soon spread forth great branches throughout the earth, becoming indeed a tree of life, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations.

In the year 1792, nearly a hundred years ago, the night shadows had fallen around the little village of Llanfihangel. The season was late autumn, and a cold wind was moaning and sighing among the trees, stripping them of their changed garments, lately so green and gay, whirling them round in eddies and laying them in shivering heaps along the narrow valley.

Wan and watery, the moon, encompassed by peaked masses of cloud that looked like another ghostly Cader Idris in the sky, had risen, and now cast a faint light across a line of jutting crags, bringing into relief their sharp ragged edges against the dark background of rolling vapour.

In pleasant contrast to the night with its threatening gloom, a warm light shone through the windows of one of the cottages that formed the village. The light was caused by the blaze of a fire of dried driftwood on the stone hearth, while in a rude wooden stand a rushlight burned, throwing its somewhat uncertain brightness upon a loom where sat a weaver at work. A bench, two or three stools, a rude cupboard, and a kitchen-table—these, with the loom, were all the furniture.

A WELSH COTTAGE.

Standing in the centre of the room was a middle-aged woman, dressed in a cloak and the tall conical Welsh hat worn by many of the peasants to this day.

"I am sorry you cannot go, Jacob," said she. "You'll be missed at the meeting. But the same Lord Almighty who gives us the meetings for the good of our souls, sent you that wheezing of the chest, for the trying of your body and spirit, and we must needs have patience till He sees fit to take it away again."

"Yes, wife, and I'm thankful that I needn't sit idle, but can still ply my trade," replied Jacob Jones. "There's many a deal worse off. But what are you waiting for, Molly? You'll be late for the exercises; it must be gone six o'clock."

"I'm waiting for that child, and she's gone for the lantern," responded Mary Jones, whom her husband generally called Molly, to distinguish her from their daughter who was also Mary.

Jacob smiled. "The lantern! Yes," said he; "you'll need it this dark night. 'Twas a good thought of yours, wife, to let Mary take it regular as you do, for the child wouldn't be allowed to attend those meetings otherwise. And she does seem so eager after everything of the kind."

"Yes, she knows already pretty nearly all that you and I can teach her of the Bible, as we learnt it, don't she, Jacob? She's only eight now, but I remember when she was but a wee child she would sit on your knee for hours on a Sunday, and hear tell of Abraham and Joseph, and David and Daniel. There never was a girl like our Mary for Bible stories, or any stories, for the matter of that, bless her! But here she is! You've been a long time getting that lantern, child, and we must hurry or we shall be late."

Little Mary raised a pair of bright dark eyes to her mother's face.

"Yes, mother," she replied, "I was long because I ran to borrow neighbour Williams's lantern. The latch of ours won't hold, and there's such a wind to-night, that I knew we should have the light blown out."

"There's a moon," said Mrs. Jones, "and I could have done without a lantern."

"Yes, but then you know, mother, I should have had to stay at home," responded Mary, "and I do so love to go."

"You needn't tell me that, child," laughed Molly. "Then come along, Mary; good-bye, Jacob."

"Good-bye, father dear! I wish you could come too!" cried Mary, running back to give Jacob a last kiss.

"Go your way, child, and mind you remember all you can to tell old father when you come home."

Then the cottage door opened, and Mary and her mother sallied out into the cold windy night.

The moon had disappeared now behind a thick dark cloud, and little Mary's borrowed lantern was very acceptable. Carefully she held it, so that the light fell upon the way they had to traverse, a way which would have been difficult if not dangerous, without its friendly aid.

"'Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path,'" said Mrs. Jones, as she took her little daughter's hand in hers.

"Yes, mother, I was just thinking of that," replied the child. "I wish I knew ever so many verses like this one."

"How glad I should be if your father and I could teach you more; but it's years since we learned, and we've got no Bible, and our memories are not as good as they used to be," sighed the mother.

A walk of some length, and over a rough road, brought them at last to the little meeting-house where the church members belonging to the Methodist body were in the habit of attending.

They were rather late, and the exercises had begun, but kind farmer Evans made room for them on his bench, and found for Mrs. Jones the place in the psalm-book from which the little company had been singing. Mary was the only child there, but her face was so grave, and her manner so solemn and reverent, that no one looking at her could have felt that she was out of place; and the church members who met there from time to time, had come to look upon this little girl as one of their number, and welcomed her accordingly.

When the meeting was over, and Mary, having relighted her lantern, was ready to accompany her mother home, farmer Evans put his great broad hand upon the child's shoulder, saying:

"Well, my little maid! You're rather young for these meetings, but the Lord has need of lambs as well as sheep, and He is well pleased when the lambs learn to hear His voice early, even in their tender years."

Then with a gentle fatherly caress the good old man released the child, and turned away, carrying with him the remembrance of that earnest intelligent face, happy in its intentness, joyful in its solemnity, having in its expression a promise of future excellence and power for good.