Steve P. Holcombe, the Converted Gambler Part 13

BOWLING GREEN, November 10, 1884.

_Mr. Holcombe:_

Will you please go and see my son L., and try to persuade him to live a better life? He has great faith in what you say. When you wrote to him last spring he seemed very much affected, and said to me. "That is one of the best men in the world." Oh, for heaven's sake, pray for him. If you can go and talk to him, advise him to leave Kentucky and go away off and reform his life. If he comes back here, _danger awaits him_. I feel sure you can influence him, for he believes you are sincere. He is not mean and sinful at heart, but oh, the accursed demon Drink causes him all his trouble. If he could get some respectable work and some one to encourage him and lift him above his darkened life, I believe he would be all right. He has relatives there, but they are the last to apply to for a.s.sistance. He is in jail in your city now. G.o.d only knows the pang it causes me to say he is in jail. He was such a good Sunday-school boy and a good Templar. Is it possible that he is to be lost? I can't yet give up all hope. While my Father in heaven has so sorely afflicted me, I can't help believing that after awhile the change will come. Oh, how I wish Brother Morris could go to him to-day. He took more interest in him than any one else ever did.

Please do what you can. I know G.o.d _will hear your prayer_ and help you to save him. Yours with a mother's aching heart for her boy,

CHICAGO, May 24th.

_Rev. Steve Holcombe:_

MY DEAR FRIEND: I have just received a letter from my son, who has almost ruined himself and broken my heart by his intemperance. I have been always praying for his reformation, but felt almost hopeless, as he would not go to church and seemed hardened, and I know very well he could not rely on his own strength and would not look to a stronger arm for help. Do you know when I received a letter from him to-day making a full confession of all his past course, and saying he had been to hear you and asked for your prayers, I could not realize it? How we are surprised when G.o.d hears us. I write this to thank you for anything you may have said to help him, and to beg you to follow him with your prayers and advice. Oh, won't you try to help him all you can? It will be a hard battle with him, poor fellow, as he has been for some time indulging freely. Will you look after him as much as you can and if he should fall, help him up? I am praying for you and your work, and have been doing so for a long time. Your friend,

MRS. P. W. M.

WEDNESDAY NIGHT.

_Dear Mr. Holcombe:_

Will you please come out to my home on Third street in the morning as early as you can? I dislike to trouble you in this way; but I am in great trouble with Mr. L. He has been drinking, and I feel that you can be the means of bringing him back to G.o.d. I have prayed with him, and done all I could for him. I feel crushed to the earth with this deep sorrow and mortification. Don't let him know that I sent for you. He is quite sick to-night. Pray that G.o.d may sustain us and lift us out of this deep dark sorrow, and cast out the demon that seems to possess my poor dear husband. G.o.d bless you, our dear good friend, and keep us all this night.

Sincerely your friend,

MRS. L.

LOUISVILLE, KY., April 12, 1888.

_Rev. S. P. Holcombe:_

DEAR BROTHER: It is with grief in my heart I must write you again. Mr. L. went on a business trip three weeks since, but fell into bad company, and has been on a protracted spree. He came home last night utterly discouraged--will not even try to pray again. I am almost discouraged myself; can only wait and trust. I think if you could make it convenient to call to see him to-day, perhaps G.o.d will put words into your mouth that will help him. I leave it with you; and would not ask you to leave your duties, except I know your willingness to work for the Master. He will not know that I have sent for you. Oh, help me to pray that G.o.d will help my husband.

Your friend,

MRS. L.

OCTOBER 28TH.

_Friend Holcombe:_

I am locked up, and go to the work-house this morning. Oh, can anything be done to help me; I want to become a different man.

Try and save me.

Truly, ---- ----

CITY WORK-HOUSE, November 1, 1882.

_Rev. Stephen P. Holcombe:_

DEAR SIR: You kindly requested me to write you in event I reached the conclusion that under a change of condition I might become a different man. My knowledge of your own career inspires me with more confidence than anything that has ever fallen under my notice. Coupled with the impression made upon me by the sermon on Sunday afternoon, I firmly believe if you will come and see me, and allow me to state to you fully my convictions as to your ability to make a sober man of me, you will do one of the greatest and n.o.blest acts of your life; and, in keeping me from the slavery of drink, rescue one who has suffered, and who has caused, and now is causing, much suffering to others. I stand ready to unite with you in any manner you may suggest, and pray G.o.d Almighty to bless you.

Truly, ---- ----.

CITY WORK-HOUSE, November 2, 1882.

_Friend Holcombe:_

When I penned the few lines to you yesterday, I had to do it in so short a s.p.a.ce of time, that in all probability I omitted to state specifically why I desired to see you. Heretofore, I have never entertained any settled plan of operations to restrain my appet.i.te for liquor other than the mere will power I deemed in my own possession and control, and, as a result, would invariably find myself in the very midst of violating every previously conceived resolution. Your kindness in pointing out a course of discipline and conduct, and extending to me a welcome among those who have made, and who are making, successful battle against the great destroyer of happiness, awakened within me an entirely different current of thought; and when I stated I would unite with you in any manner you would suggest, to effect the object in view, I meant it with all my heart and mind; and I appeal to an all-wise and merciful Creator to attest the sincerity of my declaration in this matter. Again, my resolve is to attend strictly to any suggestions you may make. The accursed appet.i.te has beggared me. I do not ask charity from any mortal toward me. I am not deserving of either sympathy or pity; and while the embracing of the cause of religion and temperance can not of itself work reformation, it places a man in a position where he can climb upward and go forward, instead of forever traveling the broad way that leads to destruction. Holcombe, I want to redeem myself. I only crave this one last opportunity, and if G.o.d will help me no man shall ever know of me using either intoxicating drink or profane language as long as breath is in my body. When released, I do not want to be idle a day. I have mouths to feed whose entry into this troubled life is chargeable solely to me. I will work for a dollar a day to do my duty towards them. Judge W. L. Jackson, Judge H. H. Bruee, Gary B. Blackburn or Major Tom Hays, would, I am sure, put in a good word for me; and Judge Price himself, I think has some hope for me. I had a violent chill to-day, and am in the hospital department, and my fingers are somewhat stiff from researches in the geological department.[4] Hence this cramped writing. Come and see me, and do not give me up as hopeless.

Truly, ---- ----.

[4] He means the rock-pile.

BOWLING GREEN, KY., March 27, 1888.

_Rev. Steve Holcombe:_

DEAR SIR: I am so much obliged to you for the kind letter you were pleased to write me. You no doubt think ere this that the seed has fallen on stony ground, and, perhaps, among thorns; but I can a.s.sure you that I made up my mind when in your city to lead a different life, and to devote the remainder of my life to the service of my G.o.d. I have so often thought of you, and have wished to see you. Pray for me, and I do hope we may meet again.

If ever convenient, call and see me. Our doors will be open, yes, wide open, to you. Thanking you again for your remembrance of me, I am, yours truly,

SICK BED, February 5th.

_Dear Christian Brother:_

I have a tenant in a little house, a grocery, on Sixth street, right next to the First Presbyterian church, who is a fearfully wicked man, a common drunkard, and steeped in sin; and I come to you to-day to beg you to seek him out and try to rescue him. He has four or five little motherless children, whose lives are full of the bitterest sorrow; they are so dirty and unkempt that the public school teacher had to send them home. They are under no control; have no one to train them for G.o.d, and ought to be where some one would save them from themselves and ruin. When I leased my house to him, he was a very handsome, well-to-do man; young, apparently honest, paid his rent regularly, and had a very nice little wife, who has since died--I think with a broken heart. Will you not look him up at once? Or, if you are too full of other cases, will you not get some one of your workers to try to lead him back to good paths? He is a very desperate case, I know, and seems almost past saving now; but you know G.o.d's grace can reach any heart. I would lay this poor dissolute creature, lost to all sense of honor, shame or manliness, on your soul, my brother, and beseech you, for Christ's sake, for the sake of these poor motherless children, whose souls are worth saving for Christ, do try to bring your influence and your prayers for G.o.d's help, to this miserable man's case, and see if you can help. If he is past G.o.d's mercy--and I can not believe that--will you not see what can be done for the little ones?

The oldest boy is a bright little fellow, and may become a great light in our Father's work. I hear that this man has been to hear Mr. Moody. I do not know if it helped him. Will you not send after him, and try to get him to go to-night? I will meet you in prayer there for him.

In bonds of Christian friends.h.i.+p,

JENNIE Ca.s.sEDAY.