The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1899-03-16
Especial Correspondence

Especial Correspondence.)
Chicago, March 3.-In the long, low,
narrow room of rough boards built over
the deck of the Duen, sat scores of the
unemployed" around rude tables, eat
ing their dish of hot soup, while as
many more stood behind them and at
| the doors, patiently awaiting their
turns. At the far end of the room sat
Countess Schimmelmann, her face suf-
fused with love and pity, while every
now and again she talked quite infOr-
mally and cheeringly to these hungry,
shelterlesS fellows, trying to make them
feel that, despite their wretchednesS
and despair, Gods in his heaven
| Taken all in all, they were not bad
looking lot of faces, although the most
hardened criminal understands that he
is welcome to the countess board just
as long as he chooses to come-that no
| questions will be asked and that he
will never lack the royal welcome-for
| thus the countess understands the mes
sage of Christ.
! AS L entered, she was just telling
them how Gods infinite mercy had
Preached the heart and transformed the
/ life of one of her own countrymen dur
! ing her mission in Berlin. He was a,
| professional pickpOcket, and had gone
to her meetings for no other purpose
than to create disturbance. Presently
his hand into her pocket; she managed
to retain her purse and turned to talk
| to him in a kindly manner, but he met
! all her advances with the most fragrant
| rudenesS, and when she incidentally
asked his name, began to blaspheme
| her and her work saying that she only
! wanted it in order to turn him over to
| the police, and that was all her cursed
! Christianity was worth. With a feeling
| of utter hopelessness, the countess
! turned away from his insults; but the
spirit strove," and she returned. Again
| he cursed her. her religion, God and
mankind. and again the countess
turned away.
But the eternal soul of the man
seemed to call unto her and for the
| last time she went to him and gently
said: L feel sure that you are unhappy,
and you may be needy. I do not care
anything about your name or pre-
vious life, but won't You let me help
| you little?" and she handed him a
piece of silver. The man took the
money and became silent and thought
full. The next day he came again and
made no attempt to disturb the meet
ing-and the next day, and the next.
Finally he surrendered his wicked
heart altogether and became a Chris
| tan gentleman. He turned out to be
! the son of distinguished Copenhagen
! family. but from a youth of dissipation
| had descended to the level of a COM
mon thief. He returned to his family
| CONNECTED himself with a church, and
reinstated himself in society.
And he always kept the silver
piece" added the speaker. ''for that,
| he said, was the first thing that made
! him believe in the truth of Christian
| ity.''
WICKED CHARLIE.
My long experiences with the souls
| of men has taught me unlimited faith
and patience" continued the countess.
Since the conversion Of my poor boy
! Charlie, L never lose hope of any one.
] Charlie was the wickedest boy in every
way that L ever met. When I first
knew him, his chief delight was to
! brighten horses or by some cunning
device to Overturn carriages in the
street; and he was quite beside him
self with joy when he could see his
victims faint and bleeding. 1t amount
ed to a mania with him; and I once
heard him say, as he watched d vessel
said away: How [ would love to blow
UP that ship or poison its crew. Well,
l took Charlie into my family. and won
from him d promise that he would
never go away without first notifying
me. His one good point was that he
would keep a promise that he had
made to me- Every little while he
I
Of trying to be good, and that he was
going away. Then 1 would simply lay
my hand upon his head. and pray:
Dear Jesus, I can't keep Charlie any
longer; do thou make him stay: and
somehow he always decided not to go.
AT the end of a year. however,
| could see that he was really much bet
ter than al the beginning. He still had
fits of violence, and one day amused
himself by breaking every window in
the house. I procured new panes of
glass, and asked him if ne would not
like to help put them in, when he flew
into rage and trampled upon and
broke the entire new lot. l had little
carriage which 1 greatly priced as the
last gift of my beloved father to me.
One day l allowed Charlie to take the
place Of my coachman. He proceeded
to drive to a quiet place in the woods
and, dismounting from his Seat, opened
the carriage door and asked me to
descend.
Now. countess he said. according
to your teachings, 1 may murder and
rob you. and still Christ will forgive
me and 1 may go to heaven-and that
is just what I am going to do and he
seized heavy stick lying near.
Il looked hirn steadily in the eye and
said: No, Charlie. you can't do it. God
would not let you do such a thing;
besides 1 know that you do love me
a little and have some gratitude for
what I have done for you. But strike
if you choose; 1 shall not try to defend
myself His hand fell To his side, his
weapon dropped. and he was seized
with violent trembling and remOrse.
For long time after this he seemed
very penitent and docile; but the
struggle with his temperament was not
over, and he one day shattered to bits
my treasured carriage. You see, he
seemed a well-nigh hopeless case. How
ever. after a dreadful illness and al
most miraculous cure. Charlie yielded
his wicked heart to the power of in
finite love and became a faithful Chris
tan and my most devoted friend. Poor
fellow, he afterwards lost his life
trying to rescue me from the persecu-
tons of my family. who had shut me
up in that frightful madhouse."