When the congregation dispersed, I entered into discourse with the Dairyman and a few of the poor of my flock, whose minds were of like disposition to his own. He seldom could speak long together without some reference to his dear child. He loved to tell how merciful his God had been to him, in the dutiful and affectionate attentions of his daughter. All real Christians feel a tender spiritual attachment towards those who have been the instrument of bringing them to an effectual knowledge of the way of salvation: but when that instrument is one so nearly allied, how dear does the relationship become!
If my friend the Dairyman was in any danger of falling into idolatry, his child would have been the idol of his affections. She was the prop and stay of her parents’ declining years, and they scarcely knew how sufficiently to testify the gratitude of their hearts, for the comfort andblessing which she was the means of affording them.
While he was relating several particulars of his family history to the others, I opened and read the following letter:—
“Sir,—Once more I take the liberty to trouble you with a few lines. I received your letter with great pleasure, and thank you for it. I am now so weak, that I am unable to walk to any public place of Divine worship: a privilege which has heretofore always so much strengthened and refreshed me. I used to go in anxious expectation to meet my God, and hold sweet communion with Him, and I was seldom disappointed. In the means of grace, all the channels of Divine mercy are open to every heart that is lifted up to receive out of that Divine fulness grace for grace. These are the times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. How have I rejoiced to hear a faithful and lively messenger, just come, as it were, from communion with God at the throne of grace, with his heart warmed and filled with Divine love, to speak to fallen sinners! Such an one has seemed to me as if his face shone as that of Moses did with the glory of God, when he came down from the mount, where he had been within the veil.May you, sir, imitate him, as he did Christ, that all may see and know that the Lord dwelleth with you, and that you dwell in Him through the unity of the blessed Spirit. I trust you are no stranger to his Divine teaching, aid, and assistance, in all you set your hand to do for the glory of God.“I hope, sir, the sincerity of my wishes for your spiritual welfare will plead an excuse for the freedom of my address to you. I pray the Giver of every perfect gift, that you may experience the mighty workings of his gracious Spirit in your heart and your ministry, and rest your all on the justifying and purifying blood of an expiring Redeemer. Then will you triumph in his strength, and be enabled to say with the poet:‘Shall I through fear of feeble men,The Spirit’s course strive to restrain?Or, undismay’d in deed and word,Be a true witness for my Lord?‘Awed by a mortal’s frown, shall IConceal the word of God most high!How then before Thee shall I dareTo stand? or, how thine anger bear?‘Shall I, to soothe the unholy throng,Soften thy truths and smooth my tongue,To gain earth’s gilded toys, or fleeThe cross endur’d, my God, by Thee!‘What then is he whose scorn I dread,Whose wrath or hate makes me afraid?A man! an heir of death! a slaveTo sin! a bubble on the wave!‘Yea, let men rage, since Thou wilt spreadThy shadowing wings around my head:Since in all pain, thy tender loveWill still my sure refreshment prove.‘Still shall the love of Christ constrainTo seek the wand’ring souls of men;With cries, entreaties, tears to save,And snatch them from the yawning grave.‘For this, let men revile my name,No cross I shun, I fear no shame:All hail reproach, and welcome pain,Only thy terrors, Lord, restrain!’“I trust, sir, that you see what a glorious high calling yours is, and that you are one of those who walk humbly with God, that you may be taught of Him in all things. Persons in your place are messengers of the Most High God. Is it too much to say, they should live like the angels in all holiness, and be filled with love and zeal for men’s souls? They are ambassadors in Christ’s stead to persuade sinners to be reconciled to God. So that your calling is above that of angels: for they areafterwardto minister to the heirs of salvation; but the sinner must befirstreconciled to God. And you are called on from day to day to intercede with man as his friend, that you may win souls to Christ. Christ is ascended up on high, to intercede with his Father for guilty sinners, and to plead for them the merits of his death. So that Christ and his faithful ministers, through the operation of the blessed Spirit, are co-workers together. Yet without Him we can do nothing: our strength is his strength, and his is all the glory from first to last.“It is my heart’s prayer and desire, sir, that you may, by a living faith, cleave close to that blessed exalted Lamb of God, who died to redeem us from sin—that you may have a sweet communion with Father, Son, and Spirit—that you may sink deep in love and rise high in the life of God. Thus will you have such discoveries of the beauties of Christ and his eternal glory, as will fill your heart with true delight.“If I am not deceived, I wish myself to enjoy his gracious favour, more than all the treasures which earth can afford. I would, in comparison, look upon them with holy disdain, and as not worth an anxious thought, that they may not have power on my heart, to draw or attract it from God, who is worthy of my highest esteem, and of all my affections. It should be ourendeavour to set Him always before us, that in all things we may act as in his immediate presence; that we may be filled with that holy fear, so that we may not dare wilfully to sin against Him. We should earnestly entreat the Lord to mortify the power and working of sin and unbelief within, by making Christ appear more and more precious in our eyes, and more dear to our hearts.“It fills my heart with thankful recollections, while I attempt in this weak manner to speak of God’s love to man. When I reflect on my past sins and his past mercies, I am assured, that if I had all the gifts of wise men and angels, I could never sufficiently describe my own inward sense of his undeserved love towards me. We can better enjoy these glorious apprehensions in our hearts, than explain them to others. But oh how unworthy of them all are we? Consciousness of my own corruptions keeps me often low; yet faith and desire will easily mount on high, beseeching God that He would, according to the apostle’s prayer, fill me with all his communicable fulness, in the gifts and graces of his Spirit; that I may walk well-pleasing before Him, in all holy conversation, perfecting holiness in his fear.“If I err in boldness, sir, pray pardon me;and in your next letter confirm my hope, that you will be my counsellor and guide.“I can only recompense your kindness to me by my prayers, that your own intercourse with God may be abundantly blessed to you and yours. I consider the Saviour saying to you, as He did to Peter, ‘Lovest them me?’ And may your heartfelt experience be compelled to reply, ‘Thou knowest all things, and thou knowest that I love thee supremely.’ May He have evident marks of it in all your outward actions of love and humanity, in feeding his flock, and in the inward fervour and affection of all your consecrated powers; that you may be zealously engaged in pulling down the strongholds of sin and Satan, and building up his Church, sowing the seeds of righteousness, and praying God to give the increase; that you may not labour for Him in vain, but may see the trees bud and blossom, and bring forth fruit abundantly, to the praise and glory of your heavenly Master. In order to give you encouragement, He says, ‘Whosoever converteth a sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death;’ and that will increase the brightness of your crown in glory. This hath Christ merited for his faithful ministers.“I hope, sir, you will receive grace to besincere in reproving sin, wherever you see it. You will find Divine assistance, and all fear and shame will be taken from you. Great peace will be given to you, and wisdom, strength, and courage, according to your work. You will be as Paul: having much learning, you can speak to men in all stations of life, by God’s assistance. The fear of offending them will never prevent you, when you consider the glory of God; and man’s immortal soul is of more value than his present favour and esteem. In particular, you are in an office wherein you can visitallthe sick. Man’s extremity is often God’s opportunity. In this way you may prove an instrument in his hand to do his work. Although Hecanwork without means, yet his usual way is by means; and I trust you are a chosen vessel unto Him, to prove his name and declare his truth to all men.“Visiting the sick is a strict command, and a duty for every Christian. None can tell what good may be done. I wish it was never neglected, as it too often is. Many think that, if they attend the Church—the minister to preach and the people to hear—their duty is done. But more is required than this. May the Lord stir up the gift that is in his people and ministers, that they may have compassion on their fellow-sinners,that they may never think it too late, but remember that while there is life there is hope.“Once more, I pray, sir, pardon and excuse all my errors in judgment, and the ignorance that this is penned in; and may God bless you in all things, and particularly your friendship to me and my parents. What a comfort is family religion. I do not doubt but this is your desire, as it is mine, to say:‘I and my house will serve the Lord,But first obedient to his wordI must myself appear:By actions, words, and temper showThat I my heavenly Master know,And serve with heart sincere.‘I must the fair example set;From those that on my pleasure waitThe stumbling-block remove;Their duty by my life explain,And still in all my works maintainThe dignity of love.‘Easy to be entreated, mild,Quickly appeas’d and reconciled,A follower of my God:A saint indeed I long to be,And lead my faithful familyIn the celestial road.‘Lord, if thou dost the wish infuse,A vessel fitted for thy useInto thy hands receive:Work in me both to will and do,And show them how believers trueAnd real Christians live.‘With all-sufficient grace supply,And then I’ll come to testifyThe wonders of thy name,Which saves from sin, the world, and hell,Its power may every sinner feel,And every tongue proclaim!‘Cleans’d by the blood of Christ from sin,I seek my relatives to win,And preach their sins forgiven;Children, and wife, and servants seize,And through the paths of pleasantnessConduct them all to heaven.’“Living so much in a solitary way, books are my companions; and poetry, which speaks of the love of God and the mercies of Christ, is very sweet to my mind. This must be my excuse for troubling you to read verses which others have written. I have intended, if my declining state of health permit, to go to --- for a few days. I say this, lest you should call in expectation of seeing me, during any part of next week. But my dear father and mother, forwhose precious souls I am very anxious, will reap the benefit of your visit at all events.“From your humble and unworthy servant,“E--- W---.”
“Sir,—Once more I take the liberty to trouble you with a few lines. I received your letter with great pleasure, and thank you for it. I am now so weak, that I am unable to walk to any public place of Divine worship: a privilege which has heretofore always so much strengthened and refreshed me. I used to go in anxious expectation to meet my God, and hold sweet communion with Him, and I was seldom disappointed. In the means of grace, all the channels of Divine mercy are open to every heart that is lifted up to receive out of that Divine fulness grace for grace. These are the times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. How have I rejoiced to hear a faithful and lively messenger, just come, as it were, from communion with God at the throne of grace, with his heart warmed and filled with Divine love, to speak to fallen sinners! Such an one has seemed to me as if his face shone as that of Moses did with the glory of God, when he came down from the mount, where he had been within the veil.May you, sir, imitate him, as he did Christ, that all may see and know that the Lord dwelleth with you, and that you dwell in Him through the unity of the blessed Spirit. I trust you are no stranger to his Divine teaching, aid, and assistance, in all you set your hand to do for the glory of God.
“I hope, sir, the sincerity of my wishes for your spiritual welfare will plead an excuse for the freedom of my address to you. I pray the Giver of every perfect gift, that you may experience the mighty workings of his gracious Spirit in your heart and your ministry, and rest your all on the justifying and purifying blood of an expiring Redeemer. Then will you triumph in his strength, and be enabled to say with the poet:
‘Shall I through fear of feeble men,The Spirit’s course strive to restrain?Or, undismay’d in deed and word,Be a true witness for my Lord?
‘Awed by a mortal’s frown, shall IConceal the word of God most high!How then before Thee shall I dareTo stand? or, how thine anger bear?
‘Shall I, to soothe the unholy throng,Soften thy truths and smooth my tongue,To gain earth’s gilded toys, or fleeThe cross endur’d, my God, by Thee!
‘What then is he whose scorn I dread,Whose wrath or hate makes me afraid?A man! an heir of death! a slaveTo sin! a bubble on the wave!
‘Yea, let men rage, since Thou wilt spreadThy shadowing wings around my head:Since in all pain, thy tender loveWill still my sure refreshment prove.
‘Still shall the love of Christ constrainTo seek the wand’ring souls of men;With cries, entreaties, tears to save,And snatch them from the yawning grave.
‘For this, let men revile my name,No cross I shun, I fear no shame:All hail reproach, and welcome pain,Only thy terrors, Lord, restrain!’
“I trust, sir, that you see what a glorious high calling yours is, and that you are one of those who walk humbly with God, that you may be taught of Him in all things. Persons in your place are messengers of the Most High God. Is it too much to say, they should live like the angels in all holiness, and be filled with love and zeal for men’s souls? They are ambassadors in Christ’s stead to persuade sinners to be reconciled to God. So that your calling is above that of angels: for they areafterwardto minister to the heirs of salvation; but the sinner must befirstreconciled to God. And you are called on from day to day to intercede with man as his friend, that you may win souls to Christ. Christ is ascended up on high, to intercede with his Father for guilty sinners, and to plead for them the merits of his death. So that Christ and his faithful ministers, through the operation of the blessed Spirit, are co-workers together. Yet without Him we can do nothing: our strength is his strength, and his is all the glory from first to last.
“It is my heart’s prayer and desire, sir, that you may, by a living faith, cleave close to that blessed exalted Lamb of God, who died to redeem us from sin—that you may have a sweet communion with Father, Son, and Spirit—that you may sink deep in love and rise high in the life of God. Thus will you have such discoveries of the beauties of Christ and his eternal glory, as will fill your heart with true delight.
“If I am not deceived, I wish myself to enjoy his gracious favour, more than all the treasures which earth can afford. I would, in comparison, look upon them with holy disdain, and as not worth an anxious thought, that they may not have power on my heart, to draw or attract it from God, who is worthy of my highest esteem, and of all my affections. It should be ourendeavour to set Him always before us, that in all things we may act as in his immediate presence; that we may be filled with that holy fear, so that we may not dare wilfully to sin against Him. We should earnestly entreat the Lord to mortify the power and working of sin and unbelief within, by making Christ appear more and more precious in our eyes, and more dear to our hearts.
“It fills my heart with thankful recollections, while I attempt in this weak manner to speak of God’s love to man. When I reflect on my past sins and his past mercies, I am assured, that if I had all the gifts of wise men and angels, I could never sufficiently describe my own inward sense of his undeserved love towards me. We can better enjoy these glorious apprehensions in our hearts, than explain them to others. But oh how unworthy of them all are we? Consciousness of my own corruptions keeps me often low; yet faith and desire will easily mount on high, beseeching God that He would, according to the apostle’s prayer, fill me with all his communicable fulness, in the gifts and graces of his Spirit; that I may walk well-pleasing before Him, in all holy conversation, perfecting holiness in his fear.
“If I err in boldness, sir, pray pardon me;and in your next letter confirm my hope, that you will be my counsellor and guide.
“I can only recompense your kindness to me by my prayers, that your own intercourse with God may be abundantly blessed to you and yours. I consider the Saviour saying to you, as He did to Peter, ‘Lovest them me?’ And may your heartfelt experience be compelled to reply, ‘Thou knowest all things, and thou knowest that I love thee supremely.’ May He have evident marks of it in all your outward actions of love and humanity, in feeding his flock, and in the inward fervour and affection of all your consecrated powers; that you may be zealously engaged in pulling down the strongholds of sin and Satan, and building up his Church, sowing the seeds of righteousness, and praying God to give the increase; that you may not labour for Him in vain, but may see the trees bud and blossom, and bring forth fruit abundantly, to the praise and glory of your heavenly Master. In order to give you encouragement, He says, ‘Whosoever converteth a sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death;’ and that will increase the brightness of your crown in glory. This hath Christ merited for his faithful ministers.
“I hope, sir, you will receive grace to besincere in reproving sin, wherever you see it. You will find Divine assistance, and all fear and shame will be taken from you. Great peace will be given to you, and wisdom, strength, and courage, according to your work. You will be as Paul: having much learning, you can speak to men in all stations of life, by God’s assistance. The fear of offending them will never prevent you, when you consider the glory of God; and man’s immortal soul is of more value than his present favour and esteem. In particular, you are in an office wherein you can visitallthe sick. Man’s extremity is often God’s opportunity. In this way you may prove an instrument in his hand to do his work. Although Hecanwork without means, yet his usual way is by means; and I trust you are a chosen vessel unto Him, to prove his name and declare his truth to all men.
“Visiting the sick is a strict command, and a duty for every Christian. None can tell what good may be done. I wish it was never neglected, as it too often is. Many think that, if they attend the Church—the minister to preach and the people to hear—their duty is done. But more is required than this. May the Lord stir up the gift that is in his people and ministers, that they may have compassion on their fellow-sinners,that they may never think it too late, but remember that while there is life there is hope.
“Once more, I pray, sir, pardon and excuse all my errors in judgment, and the ignorance that this is penned in; and may God bless you in all things, and particularly your friendship to me and my parents. What a comfort is family religion. I do not doubt but this is your desire, as it is mine, to say:
‘I and my house will serve the Lord,But first obedient to his wordI must myself appear:By actions, words, and temper showThat I my heavenly Master know,And serve with heart sincere.
‘I must the fair example set;From those that on my pleasure waitThe stumbling-block remove;Their duty by my life explain,And still in all my works maintainThe dignity of love.
‘Easy to be entreated, mild,Quickly appeas’d and reconciled,A follower of my God:A saint indeed I long to be,And lead my faithful familyIn the celestial road.
‘Lord, if thou dost the wish infuse,A vessel fitted for thy useInto thy hands receive:Work in me both to will and do,And show them how believers trueAnd real Christians live.
‘With all-sufficient grace supply,And then I’ll come to testifyThe wonders of thy name,Which saves from sin, the world, and hell,Its power may every sinner feel,And every tongue proclaim!
‘Cleans’d by the blood of Christ from sin,I seek my relatives to win,And preach their sins forgiven;Children, and wife, and servants seize,And through the paths of pleasantnessConduct them all to heaven.’
“Living so much in a solitary way, books are my companions; and poetry, which speaks of the love of God and the mercies of Christ, is very sweet to my mind. This must be my excuse for troubling you to read verses which others have written. I have intended, if my declining state of health permit, to go to --- for a few days. I say this, lest you should call in expectation of seeing me, during any part of next week. But my dear father and mother, forwhose precious souls I am very anxious, will reap the benefit of your visit at all events.
“From your humble and unworthy servant,
“E--- W---.”
Having read it, I said to the father of my highly valued correspondent:
“I thank you for being the bearer of this letter; your daughter is a kind friend and faithful counsellor to me, as well as to you. Tell her how highly I esteem her friendship, and that I feel truly obliged for the many excellent sentiments which she has here expressed. Give her my blessing, and assure her that the oftener she writes, the more thankful I shall be.”
The Dairyman’s enlivened eye gleamed with pleasure as I spoke. The praise of his Elizabeth was a string which could not be touched without causing every nerve of his whole frame to vibrate.
His voice half faltered as he spoke in reply; the tear stood in his eyes; his hand trembled as I pressed it; his heart was full; he could only say, “Sir, a poor old man thanks you for your kindness to him and his family. God bless you, sir; I hope we shall soon see you again.”
Thus we parted for that day.
It has not unfrequently been observed, that when it is the Lord’s pleasure to remove any of his faithful followers out of this life at an early period of their course, they make rapid progress in the experience of Divine truth. The fruits of the Spirit ripen fast, as they advance to the close of mortal existence. In particular, they grow in humility, through a deeper sense of inward corruption, and a clearer view of the perfect character of the Saviour. Disease and bodily weakness make the thoughts of eternity recur with frequency and power. The great question of their own personal salvation, the quality of their faith, the sincerity of their love, and the purity of their hope, are in continual exercise.
Unseen realities, at such a time, occupy a larger portion of thought than before. The state of existence beyond the grave, the invisible world, the unaltered character of the dead, the future judgment, the total separation from everything earthly, the dissolution of body and spirit, and their reunion at the solemn hour of resurrection—these are subjects for their meditation, which call for serious earnestness of soul. Whateverconsolations from the Spirit of God they may have enjoyed heretofore, they become now doubly anxious to examine and prove themselves, “whether they be indeed in the faith.” In doing this, they sometimes pass through hidden conflicts of a dark and distressing nature; from which, however, they come forth, like gold tried in the furnace. Awhile they may sow in tears, but soon they reap in joy.
Their religious feelings have then, perhaps, less of ecstasy, but more of serenity.
As the ears of corn ripen for the harvest, they bow their heads nearer to the ground. So it is with believers; they then see more than ever of their own imperfection, and often express their sense of it in strong language; yet they repose with a growing confidence on the love of God through Christ Jesus. The nearer they advance to their eternal rest, the more humble they become, but not the less useful in their sphere. They feel anxiously desirous of improving every talent they possess to the glory of God, knowing that the time is short.
I thought I observed the truth of these remarks fulfilled in the progressive state of mind of the Dairyman’s daughter.
Declining health seemed to indicate the will of God concerning her. But her character, conduct,and experience of the Divine favour increased in brightness as the setting sun of her mortal life approached its horizon. The last letter which, with the exception of a very short note, I ever received from her, I shall now transcribe. It appeared to me to bear the marks of a still deeper acquaintance with the workings of her own heart, and a more entire reliance upon the free mercy of God.
The original, while I copy it, strongly revives the image of the deceased, and the many profitable conversations which I once enjoyed in her company and that of her parents. It again endears to me the recollections of cottage piety; and helps me to anticipate the joys of that day when the spirits of the glorified saints shall be reunited to their bodies, and be for ever with the Lord.
The writer of this and the preceding letters herself little imagined, when they were penned, that they would ever be submitted to the public eye. That they now are so, results from a conviction that the friends of the pious poor will estimate them according to their value, and a hope that it may please God to honour these memorials of the dead, to the effectual edification of the living.
“Rev. Sir,“In consequence of your kind permission, I take the liberty to trouble you with another of my ill-written letters; and I trust you have too much of your blessed Maker’s lowly, meek, and humble mind to be offended with a poor, simple, ignorant creature, whose intentions are pure and sincere in writing. My desire is that I, a weak vessel of his grace, may glorify his name for his goodness towards me. May the Lord direct me by his counsel and wisdom! May He overshadow me with his presence, that I may sit beneath the banner of his love, and find the consolations of his blessed Spirit sweet and refreshing to my soul!“When I feel that I am nothing, and God is all in all, then I can willingly fly to Him, saying, ‘Lord, help me; Lord, teach me; be unto me my Prophet, Priest, and King; let me know the teaching of thy grace, and the disclosing of thy love.’ What nearness of access might we have if we lived more near to God! What sweet communion might we have with a God of love! He is the great I AM. How glorious a name! Angels with trembling awe prostrate themselves before Him, and in humble love adore and worship Him. One says,‘While the first archangel sings,He hides his face behind his wings.’Unworthy as I am, I have found it by experience, that the more I see of the greatness and goodness of God, and the nearer union I hope I have had with Him through the Spirit of his love, the more humble and self-abased I have been.“But every day I may say, ‘Lord, how little I love thee, how far I live from thee, how little am I like thee in humility!’ It is nevertheless my heart’s desire to love and serve Him better. I find the way in which God does more particularly bless me, is when I attend on the public ordinances of religion. These are the channels through which He conveys the riches of his grace and precious love to my soul. These I have often found to be indeed the time of refreshing and strengthening from the presence of the Lord. Then I can see my hope of an interest in the covenant of love, and praise Him for his mercy to the greatest of sinners.“I earnestly wish to be more established in the ways, and to honour him in the path of duties whilst I enjoy the smiles of his favour. In the midst of all outward afflictions I pray that I may know Christ, and the power of his resurrection within my soul. If I were always thus, my summer would last all the year, my will would then be sweetly lost in God’s will, and I should feel a resignation to every dispensation of hisprovidence and his grace, saying, ‘Good is the will of the Lord: infinite wisdom cannot err.’ Then would patience have its perfect work.“But, alas! sin and unbelief often, too often, interrupt these frames, and lay me low before God in tears of sorrow. I often think what a happiness it would be, if his love were so fixed in my heart, that I might willingly obey Him with alacrity and delight, and gradually mortify the power of self-will, passion, and pride. This can only arise from a good hope, through grace, that we are washed in that precious blood which cleanses us from every sinful stain, and makes us new creatures in Christ. O that we may be the happy witnesses of the saving power and virtue of that healing stream which flows from the fountain of everlasting love!“Sir, my faith is often exceedingly weak. Can you be so kind as to tell me what you have found to be the most effectual means of strengthening it? I often think how plainly the Lord declares—Believe only, and thou shalt be saved. Only have faith; all things are possible to him that has it. How I wish that we could remove all those mountains that hinder and obstruct the light of his grace; so that, having full access unto God through that ever-blessed Spirit, we might lovingly commune with Him as with thedearest of friends. What favour doth God bestow on worms! And yet we love to murmur and complain. He may well say, What should I have done more that I have not done? or wherein have I proved unfaithful or unkind to my faithless backsliding children?“Sir, I pray that I may not grieve Him, as I have done, any more. I want your counsel and your prayers for me in this matter. How refreshing is the sight of one that truly loves God, that bears his image and likeness!“But delightful as is conversation with true believers on earth, whose hearts are lifted up to things above, yet what is this to that happy day which will admit us into more bright realms, where we shall for ever behold a God of love in the smiling face of his Son, who is the express image of his Father, and the brightness of his glory! Then, if found in Him, we shall be received by the innumerable host of angels who wait around his throne.“In the meantime, sir, may I take up my cross, and manfully fight under Him who, for the glory that was set before Him, endured the cross, despised the shame, and is now set down at his Father’s right hand in majesty! I thank you for the kind liberty you have given to me of writing to you. I feel my health declining, and Ifind a relief during an hour of pain and weakness in communicating these thoughts to you.“I hope, sir, you go on your way rejoicing; that you are enabled to thank Him who is the giver of every good gift, spiritual, temporal, and providential, for blessings to yourself and your ministry. I do not doubt but you often meet with circumstances which are not pleasing to nature; yet, by the blessing of God, they will be all profitable in the end. They are kindly designed by grace to make and keep us humble. The difficulties which you spoke of to me some time since, will, I trust, disappear.“My dear father and mother are as well as usual in bodily health; and, I hope, grow in grace, and in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ. My chief desire to live is for their sakes. It now seems long since we have seen you. I am almost ashamed to request you to come to our little cottage, to visit those who are so far beneath your station in life. But if you cannot come, we shall be very glad if you will write a few lines. I ought to make an excuse for my letter, I spell so badly: this was a great neglect when I was young. I gave myself greatly to reading, but not to the other; and now I am too weak and feeble to learn much.“I hear sometimes of persons growing seriousin your congregation. It gives me joy; and, if true, I am sure it does so to yourself. I long for the pure Gospel of Christ to be preached in every church in the world, and for the time when all shall know, love, and fear the Lord, and the uniting Spirit of God shall make them of one heart and mind in Christ our great Head. Your greatest joy, I know, will be in labouring much for the glory of God in the salvation of men’s souls. You serve a good Master. You have a sure reward. I pray God to give you strength according to your day.“Pray, sir, do not be offended at the freedom and manner of my writing. My parents’ duty and love to you are sent with these lines from“Your humble servant in Christ,“E--- W---.”
“Rev. Sir,
“In consequence of your kind permission, I take the liberty to trouble you with another of my ill-written letters; and I trust you have too much of your blessed Maker’s lowly, meek, and humble mind to be offended with a poor, simple, ignorant creature, whose intentions are pure and sincere in writing. My desire is that I, a weak vessel of his grace, may glorify his name for his goodness towards me. May the Lord direct me by his counsel and wisdom! May He overshadow me with his presence, that I may sit beneath the banner of his love, and find the consolations of his blessed Spirit sweet and refreshing to my soul!
“When I feel that I am nothing, and God is all in all, then I can willingly fly to Him, saying, ‘Lord, help me; Lord, teach me; be unto me my Prophet, Priest, and King; let me know the teaching of thy grace, and the disclosing of thy love.’ What nearness of access might we have if we lived more near to God! What sweet communion might we have with a God of love! He is the great I AM. How glorious a name! Angels with trembling awe prostrate themselves before Him, and in humble love adore and worship Him. One says,
‘While the first archangel sings,He hides his face behind his wings.’
Unworthy as I am, I have found it by experience, that the more I see of the greatness and goodness of God, and the nearer union I hope I have had with Him through the Spirit of his love, the more humble and self-abased I have been.
“But every day I may say, ‘Lord, how little I love thee, how far I live from thee, how little am I like thee in humility!’ It is nevertheless my heart’s desire to love and serve Him better. I find the way in which God does more particularly bless me, is when I attend on the public ordinances of religion. These are the channels through which He conveys the riches of his grace and precious love to my soul. These I have often found to be indeed the time of refreshing and strengthening from the presence of the Lord. Then I can see my hope of an interest in the covenant of love, and praise Him for his mercy to the greatest of sinners.
“I earnestly wish to be more established in the ways, and to honour him in the path of duties whilst I enjoy the smiles of his favour. In the midst of all outward afflictions I pray that I may know Christ, and the power of his resurrection within my soul. If I were always thus, my summer would last all the year, my will would then be sweetly lost in God’s will, and I should feel a resignation to every dispensation of hisprovidence and his grace, saying, ‘Good is the will of the Lord: infinite wisdom cannot err.’ Then would patience have its perfect work.
“But, alas! sin and unbelief often, too often, interrupt these frames, and lay me low before God in tears of sorrow. I often think what a happiness it would be, if his love were so fixed in my heart, that I might willingly obey Him with alacrity and delight, and gradually mortify the power of self-will, passion, and pride. This can only arise from a good hope, through grace, that we are washed in that precious blood which cleanses us from every sinful stain, and makes us new creatures in Christ. O that we may be the happy witnesses of the saving power and virtue of that healing stream which flows from the fountain of everlasting love!
“Sir, my faith is often exceedingly weak. Can you be so kind as to tell me what you have found to be the most effectual means of strengthening it? I often think how plainly the Lord declares—Believe only, and thou shalt be saved. Only have faith; all things are possible to him that has it. How I wish that we could remove all those mountains that hinder and obstruct the light of his grace; so that, having full access unto God through that ever-blessed Spirit, we might lovingly commune with Him as with thedearest of friends. What favour doth God bestow on worms! And yet we love to murmur and complain. He may well say, What should I have done more that I have not done? or wherein have I proved unfaithful or unkind to my faithless backsliding children?
“Sir, I pray that I may not grieve Him, as I have done, any more. I want your counsel and your prayers for me in this matter. How refreshing is the sight of one that truly loves God, that bears his image and likeness!
“But delightful as is conversation with true believers on earth, whose hearts are lifted up to things above, yet what is this to that happy day which will admit us into more bright realms, where we shall for ever behold a God of love in the smiling face of his Son, who is the express image of his Father, and the brightness of his glory! Then, if found in Him, we shall be received by the innumerable host of angels who wait around his throne.
“In the meantime, sir, may I take up my cross, and manfully fight under Him who, for the glory that was set before Him, endured the cross, despised the shame, and is now set down at his Father’s right hand in majesty! I thank you for the kind liberty you have given to me of writing to you. I feel my health declining, and Ifind a relief during an hour of pain and weakness in communicating these thoughts to you.
“I hope, sir, you go on your way rejoicing; that you are enabled to thank Him who is the giver of every good gift, spiritual, temporal, and providential, for blessings to yourself and your ministry. I do not doubt but you often meet with circumstances which are not pleasing to nature; yet, by the blessing of God, they will be all profitable in the end. They are kindly designed by grace to make and keep us humble. The difficulties which you spoke of to me some time since, will, I trust, disappear.
“My dear father and mother are as well as usual in bodily health; and, I hope, grow in grace, and in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ. My chief desire to live is for their sakes. It now seems long since we have seen you. I am almost ashamed to request you to come to our little cottage, to visit those who are so far beneath your station in life. But if you cannot come, we shall be very glad if you will write a few lines. I ought to make an excuse for my letter, I spell so badly: this was a great neglect when I was young. I gave myself greatly to reading, but not to the other; and now I am too weak and feeble to learn much.
“I hear sometimes of persons growing seriousin your congregation. It gives me joy; and, if true, I am sure it does so to yourself. I long for the pure Gospel of Christ to be preached in every church in the world, and for the time when all shall know, love, and fear the Lord, and the uniting Spirit of God shall make them of one heart and mind in Christ our great Head. Your greatest joy, I know, will be in labouring much for the glory of God in the salvation of men’s souls. You serve a good Master. You have a sure reward. I pray God to give you strength according to your day.
“Pray, sir, do not be offended at the freedom and manner of my writing. My parents’ duty and love to you are sent with these lines from
“Your humble servant in Christ,
“E--- W---.”
Epistolary communications, when written in sincerity of heart, afford genuine portraits of the mind. May the foregoing be viewed with Christian candour, and consecrated to affectionate memory!
Travellers, as they pass through the country, usually stop to inquire whose are the splendid mansions which they discover among the woods and plains around them. The families, titles, fortune, or character of the respective owners engage much attention. Perhaps their houses are exhibited to the admiring stranger. The elegant rooms, costly furniture, valuable paintings, beautiful gardens and shrubberies, are universally approved; while the rank, fashion, taste, and riches of the possessor, afford ample materials for entertaining discussion. In the meantime, the lowly cottage of the poor husbandman is passed by as scarcely deserving of notice. Yet perchance such a cottage may often contain a treasure of infinitely more value than the sumptuous palace of the rich man; even “the pearl of great price.” If this be set in the heart of the poor cottager, it proves a gem of unspeakable worth, and will shine among the brightest ornaments of the Redeemer’s crown, in that day when He maketh up his “jewels.”
Hence the Christian traveller, while in common with others he bestows his due share of applauseon the decorations of the rich, and is not insensible to the beauties and magnificence which are the lawfully-allowed appendages of rank and fortune, cannot overlook the humbler dwelling of the poor. And if he should find that true piety and grace beneath the thatched roof which he has in vain looked for amidst the worldly grandeur of the rich, he remembers the declarations in the Word of God. He sees with admiration, that the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, who dwelleth in the high and holy place, dwelleth withhim alsothat is of a contrite and humble spirit; and although heaven is his throne, and the earth his footstool, yet, when a house is to be built, and a place of rest to be sought for himself, He says, To this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word. (SeeIsa. lvii. 15; lxvi. 1, 2.)
When a house is thus tenanted, faith beholds this inscription written on the walls,The Lord lives here. Faith, therefore, cannot pass by it unnoticed, but loves to lift up the latch of the door, and to sit down and converse with the poor, although perhaps despised, inhabitant. Many a sweet interview does Faith obtain, when she thus takes her walks abroad. Many such a sweet interview have I myself enjoyed beneaththe roof where dwelt the Dairyman and his little family.
I soon perceived that his daughter’s health was rapidly on the decline. The pale, wasting consumption, which is the Lord’s instrument for removing so many thousands every year from the land of the living, made hasty strides on her constitution. The hollow eye, the distressing cough, and the often too-flattering red on the cheek, foretold the approach of death.
What a field for usefulness and affectionate attention on the part of ministers and Christian friends is opened by the frequent attacks, and lingering progress, ofconsumptiveillness! How many such precious opportunities are daily lost, where Providence seems in so marked a way to afford time and space for serious and godly instruction! Of how many may it be said, “The way of peace have they not known;” for not one friend ever came nigh to warn them to “flee from the wrath to come.”
But the Dairyman’s daughter was happily made acquainted with the things which belonged to her everlasting peace before the present disease had taken root in her constitution. In my visits to her, I went rather to receive information than to impart it. Her mind was abundantly stored with Divine truths, and her conversationwas truly edifying. The recollection of it must ever produce a thankful sensation in my heart.
I one day received a short note to the following effect:—
“Dear Sir,“I should be very glad, if your convenience will allow, that you would come and see a poor unworthy sinner. My hour-glass is nearly run out; but I hope I can see Christ to be precious to my soul. Your conversation has often been blessed to me, and I now feel the need of it more than ever. My father and my mother send their duty to you.“From your obedient“And unworthy servant,“E--- W---.”
“Dear Sir,
“I should be very glad, if your convenience will allow, that you would come and see a poor unworthy sinner. My hour-glass is nearly run out; but I hope I can see Christ to be precious to my soul. Your conversation has often been blessed to me, and I now feel the need of it more than ever. My father and my mother send their duty to you.
“From your obedient
“And unworthy servant,
“E--- W---.”
I obeyed the summons that same afternoon. On my arrival at the Dairyman’s cottage his wife opened the door. The tears streamed down her cheek as she silently shook her head. Her heart was full. She tried to speak, but could not. I took her by the hand, and said:
“My good friend, all is right, and as the Lord of wisdom and mercy directs.”
“Oh! my Betsy, my dear girl, is so bad, sir.What shall I do without her? I thought I should have gone first to the grave, but—”
“But the Lord sees good that, before you die yourself, you should behold your child safe home to glory. Is there no mercy in this?”
“O, dear sir! I am very old and very weak, and she is a dear child, the staff and prop of such a poor old creature as I am.”
As I advanced, I saw Elizabeth sitting by the fireside, supported in an arm-chair by pillows, with every mark of rapid decline and approaching death. A sweet smile of friendly complacency enlightened her pale countenance as she said:
“This is very kind indeed, sir, to come so soon after I sent to you. You find me daily wasting away, and I cannot have long to continue here. My flesh and my heart fail; but God is the strength of my weak heart, and, I trust, will be my portion for ever.”
The conversation was occasionally interrupted by her cough and want of breath. Her tone of voice was clear, though feeble; her manner solemn and collected; and her eye, though more dim than formerly, by no means wanting in liveliness as she spoke. I had frequently admired the superior language in which she expressed her ideas, as well as the scripturalconsistency with which she communicated her thoughts. She had a good natural understanding; and grace, as is generally the case, much improved it. On the present occasion I could not help thinking she was peculiarly favoured. The whole strength of gracious and natural attainments seemed to be in full exercise.
After taking my seat between the daughter and the mother (the latter fixing her fond eyes upon her child with great anxiety, while we were conversing), I said to Elizabeth:
“I hope you enjoy a sense of the Divine presence, and can rest all upon Him who has ‘been with thee,’ and has kept ‘thee in all places whither thou hast gone,’ and will bring thee into ‘the land of pure delights, where saints immortal reign.’”
“Sir, I think I can. My mind has lately been sometimes clouded, but I believe it has been partly owing to the great weakness and suffering of my bodily frame, and partly to the envy of my spiritual enemy, who wants to persuade me that Christ has no love for me, and that I have been a self-deceiver.”
“And do you give way to his suggestions? Can you doubt amidst such numerous tokens of past and present mercy?”
“No, sir; I mostly am enabled to preserve aclear evidence of his love. I do not wish to add to my other sins that of denying his manifest goodness to my soul. I would acknowledge it to his praise and glory.”
“What is your present view of the state in which you were before you felt seriously concerned about the salvation of your soul?”
“Sir, I was a proud, thoughtless girl, fond of dress and finery; I loved the world, and the things that are in the world; I lived in service among worldly people, and never had the happiness of being in a family where worship was regarded, and the souls of the servants cared for either by master or mistress. I went once on a Sunday to church, more to see and be seen than to pray or hear the word of God. I thought I was quite good enough to be saved, and disliked and often laughed at religious people. I was in great darkness; I knew nothing of the way of salvation; I never prayed, nor was sensible of the awful danger of a prayerless state. I wished to maintain the character of a good servant, and was much lifted up whenever I met with applause. I was tolerably moral and decent in my conduct, from motives of carnal and worldly policy; but I was a stranger to God and Christ; I neglected my soul; and had I died in such a state, hell must, and would justly, have been my portion.”
“How long is it since you heard the sermon which you hope, through God’s blessing, effected your conversion?”
“About five years ago.”
“How was it brought about?”
“It was reported that a Mr ---, who was detained by contrary winds from embarking on board ship, as chaplain to a distant part of the world, was to preach at church. Many advised me not to go, for fear he should turn my head; as they said he held strange notions. But curiosity and an opportunity of appearing in a new gown, which I was very proud of, induced me to ask leave of my mistress to go. Indeed, sir, I had no better motives than vanity and curiosity. Yet thus it pleased the Lord to order it for his own glory.
“I accordingly went to church, and saw a great crowd of people collected together. I often think of the contrary states of my mind during the former and latter part of the service. For a while, regardless of the worship of God, I looked around me, and was anxious to attract notice myself. My dress, like that of too many gay, vain, and silly servant girls, was much above my station, and very different from that which becomes an humble sinner, who has a modest sense of propriety and decency. The state ofmy mind was visible enough from the foolish finery of my apparel.
“At length the clergyman gave out his text: ‘Beyeclothed with humility’ (1 Pet. v. 5). He drew a comparison between the clothing of the body with that of the soul. At a very early part of his discourse, I began to feel ashamed of my passion for fine dressing and apparel; but when he came to describe the garment of salvation with which a Christian is clothed, I felt a powerful discovery of the nakedness of my own soul. I saw that I had neither the humility mentioned in the text, nor any one part of the true Christian character. I looked at my gay dress, and blushed for shame on account of my pride. I looked at the minister, and he seemed to be as a messenger sent from heaven to open my eyes. I looked on the congregation, and wondered whether any one else felt as I did. I looked at my heart, and it appeared full of iniquity. I trembled as he spoke, and yet I felt a great drawing of heart to the words he uttered.
“He displayed the riches of Divine grace in God’s method of saving the sinner. I was astonished at what I had been doing all the days of my life. He described the meek, lowly, and humble example of Christ; I felt proud, lofty, vain, and self-consequential. He representedChrist as ‘Wisdom;’ I felt my ignorance. He held Him forth as ‘Righteousness;’ I was convinced of my own guilt. He proved Him to be ‘Sanctification;’ I saw my corruption. He proclaimed Him as ‘Redemption;’ I felt my slavery to sin, and my captivity to Satan. He concluded with an animated address to sinners, in which he exhorted them to flee from the wrath to come, to cast off the love of outward ornaments, to put on Jesus Christ, and be clothed with true humility.
“From that hour I never lost sight of the value of my soul, and the danger of a sinful state. I inwardly blessed God for the sermon, although my mind was in a state of great confusion.
“The preacher had brought forward the ruling passion of my heart, which was pride in outward dress; and by the grace of God it was made instrumental to the awakening of my soul. Happy, sir, would it be, if many a poor girl, like myself, were turned from the love of outward adorning and putting on of fine apparel, to seek that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.
“The greater part of the congregation, unused to such faithful and scriptural sermons, dislikedand complained of the severity of the preacher: while a few, as I afterwards found, like myself, were deeply affected, and earnestly wished to hear him again. But he preached there no more.
“From that time I was led, through a course of private prayer, reading, and meditation, to see my lost estate as a sinner, and the great mercy of God through Jesus Christ in raising sinful dust and ashes to a share in the glorious happiness of heaven. And O, sir, what a Saviour I have found! He is more than I could ask or desire. In his fulness I have found all that my poverty could need; in his bosom I have found a resting-place from all sin and sorrow; in his Word I have found strength against doubt and unbelief.”
“Were you not soon convinced,” I said, “that your salvation must be an act of entire grace on the part of God, wholly independent of your own previous works or deservings?”
“Dear sir, what were my works before I heard that sermon, but evil, carnal, selfish, and ungodly? The thoughts of my heart, from my youth upward, were only evil, and that continually. And my deservings, what were they but the deservings of a fallen, depraved, careless soul, that regarded neither law nor gospel? Yes,sir, I immediately saw that, if ever I were saved, it must be by the free mercy of God, and that the whole praise and honour of the work would be his from first to last.”
“What change did you perceive in yourself with respect to the world?”
“It appeared all vanity and vexation of spirit. I found it necessary to my peace of mind to come out from among them and be separate. I gave myself to prayer; and many a happy hour of secret delight I enjoyed in communion with God. Often I mourned over my sins, and sometimes had a great conflict through unbelief, fear, temptation, to return back again to my old ways, and a variety of difficulties which lay in my way. But He who loved me with an everlasting love, drew me by his loving-kindness, showed me the way of peace, gradually strengthened me in my resolutions of leading a new life, and taught me, that while without him I could do nothing, I yet might do all things through his strength.”
“Did you not find many difficulties in your situation, owing to your change of principle and practice?”
“Yes, sir, every day of my life. I was laughed at by some, scolded at by others, scorned by enemies, and pitied by friends. I was called hypocrite, saint, false deceiver, and many morenames which were meant to render me hateful in the sight of the world. But I esteemed the reproach of the Cross an honour. I forgave and prayed for my persecutors, and remembered how very lately I had acted the same part towards others myself. I thought also that Christ endured the contradiction of sinners; and as the disciple is not above his Master, I was glad to be in any way conformed to his sufferings.”
“Did you not then feel for your family at home?”
“Yes, that I did indeed, sir; they were never out of my thoughts. I prayed continually for them, and had a longing desire to do them good. In particular, I felt for my father and mother, as they were getting into years, and were very ignorant and dark in matters of religion.”
“Ay,” interrupted her mother, sobbing, “ignorant and dark, sinful and miserable we were, till this dear Betsy—this dear Betsy—this dear child, sir—brought Christ Jesus home to her poor father and mother’s house.”
“No, dearest mother; say rather, Christ Jesus brought your poor daughter home, to tell you what He had done for her soul, and, I hope, to do the same for yours.”
At this moment the Dairyman came in with two pails of milk hanging from the yoke on hisshoulders. He had stood behind the half-opened door for a few minutes, and heard the last sentences spoken by his wife and daughter.
“Blessing and mercy upon her!” said he, “it is very true: she left a good place of service on purpose to live with us, that she might help us both in soul and body. Sir, don’t she look very ill? I think, sir, we sha’n’t have her here long.”
“Leave that to the Lord,” said Elizabeth. “All our times are in his hand, and happy it is that they are. I am willing to go. Are not you willing, my father, to part with me intohishands who gave me to you at first?”
“Ask me any question in the world but that,” said the weeping father.
“I know,” said she, “you wish me to be happy.”
“I do, I do,” answered he; “let the Lord do with you and us as best pleases Him.”
I then asked her on what her present consolations chiefly depended, in the prospect of approaching death.
“Entirely, sir, on my view of Christ. When I look at myself, many sins, infirmities, and imperfections cloud the image of Christ which I want to see in my own heart. But when I look at the Saviour himself, He is altogether lovely;there is not one spot in his countenance, nor one cloud over all his perfections.
“I think of his coming in the flesh, and it reconciles me to the sufferings of the body; for He had them as well as I. I think of his temptations, and believe that He is able to succour me when I am tempted. Then I think of his cross, and learn to bear my own. I reflect on his death, and long to die unto sin, so that it may no longer have dominion over me. I sometimes think of his resurrection, and trust that He has given me a part in it, for I feel that my affections are set upon things above. Chiefly, I take comfort in thinking of Him as at the right hand of the Father, pleading my cause, and rendering acceptable even my feeble prayers, both for myself, and, as I hope, for my dear friends.
“These are the views which, through mercy, I have of my Saviour’s goodness; and they have made me wish and strive in my poor way to serve Him, to give myself up to Him, and to labour to do my duty in that state of life into which it has pleased Him to call me.
“A thousand times I should have fallen and fainted, if He had not upheld me. I feel that I am nothing without Him. He is all in all.
“Just so far as I can cast my care upon HimI find strength to do his will. May He give me grace to trust Him till the last moment! I do not fear death, because I believe that He has taken away its sting. And O, what happiness beyond! Tell me, sir, whether you think I am right—I hope I am under no delusion. I dare not look for my hope in anything short of the entire fulness of Christ. When I ask my own heart a question, I am afraid to trust it, for it is treacherous, and has often deceived me. But when I ask Christ, he answers me with promises that strengthen and refresh me, and leave me no room to doubt his power and will to save. I am in his hands, and would remain there; and I do believe that He will never leave nor forsake me, but will perfect the thing that concerns me. He loved me, and gave himself for me; and I believe that his gifts and calling are without repentance. In this hope I live, in this hope I wish to die.”
I looked around me, as she was speaking, and thought—Surely this is none other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven. Everything appeared neat, cleanly, and interesting. The afternoon had been rather overcast with dark clouds; but just now the setting sun shone brightly and somewhat suddenly into the room. It was reflected from three or four rows of brightpewter plates and white earthenware, arranged on shelves against the wall; it also gave brilliancy to a few prints of sacred subjects that hung there also, and served for monitors of the birth, baptism, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ.
A large map of Jerusalem, and a hieroglyphic of “the old and new man,” completed the decorations on that side of the room. Clean as was the whitewashed wall, it was not cleaner than the rest of the place and its furniture. Seldom had the sun enlightened a house where order and general neatness (those sure attendants of pious poverty) were more conspicuous.
This gleam of setting sunshine was emblematical of the bright and serene close of this young Christian’s departing season. One ray happened to be reflected from a little looking-glass upon her face. Amidst her pallid and decaying features there appeared a calm resignation, triumphant confidence, unaffected humility, and tender anxiety, which fully declared the feelings of her heart.
Some further affectionate conversation and a short prayer closed this interview.
As I rode home by departing day-light, a solemn tranquillity reigned throughout the scene. The gentle lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheepjust penned in their folds, the humming of the insects of the night, the distant murmurs of the sea, the last notes of the birds of day, and the first warblings of the nightingale, broke upon the ear, and served rather to increase than lessen the peaceful serenity of the evening, and its corresponding effects on my own mind. It invited and cherished just such meditations as my visit had already inspired. Natural scenery, when viewed in a Christian mirror, frequently affords very beautiful illustrations of Divine truths. We are highly favoured when we can enjoy them, and at the same time draw near to God in them.
It is a pleasing consideration that, amidst the spiritual darkness which unhappily prevails in many parts of the land, God nevertheless has a people. It not unfrequently happens, that single individuals are to be found who, though very disadvantageously situated with regard to the ordinary means of grace, have received truly saving impressions,and through a blessing on secret meditation, reading, and prayer, are led to the closest communion with God, and become eminently devoted Christians. It is the no small error of too many professors of the present day, to overlook or undervalue the instances of this kind which exist. The religious profession and opinions of some have too much of meremachineryin their composition. If every wheel, pivot, chain, spring, cog, or pinion, be not exactly in its place, or move not precisely according to a favourite and prescribed system, the whole is rejected as unworthy of regard. But happily “the Lord knoweth them that are his;” nor is the impression of his own seal wanting to characterise some who, in comparative seclusion from the religious world, “name the name of Christ, and depart from iniquity.”
There are some real Christians so particularly circumstanced in this respect, as to illustrate the poet’s beautiful comparison:—
“Full many a gem of purest ray sereneThe dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear;Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”
“Full many a gem of purest ray sereneThe dark unfathom’d caves of ocean bear;Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,And waste its sweetness on the desert air.”
Yet this was not altogether the case with the Dairyman’s daughter. Her religion had indeed ripened in seclusion from the world, and she wasintimately known but to few; but she lived usefully, departed most happily, and left a shining track behind her. While I attempt a faint delineation of it, may I catch its influence, and become, through inexpressible mercy, a follower “of them, who through faith and patience inherit the promises.”
From the time wherein I visited her, as described in my last paper, I considered her end as fast approaching. One day I received a hasty summons to inform me that she was dying. It was brought by a soldier, whose countenance bespoke seriousness, good sense, and piety.
“I am sent, sir, by the father and mother of Elizabeth W---, at her own particular request, to say how much they all wish to see you. She is goinghome, sir, very fast indeed.”
“Have you known her long?” I inquired.
“About a month, sir. I love to visit the sick; and hearing of her case from a person who lives close by our camp, I went to see her. I bless God that ever I did go. Her conversation has been very profitable to me.”
“I rejoice,” said I, “to see in you, as I trust, abrother soldier. Though we differ in our outward regimentals, I hope we serve under the same spiritual Captain. I will go with you.”
My horse was soon ready. My military companionwalked by my side, and gratified me with very sensible and pious conversation. He related some remarkable testimonies of the excellent disposition of the Dairyman’s daughter, as they appeared from recent intercourse which he had had with her.
“She is a bright diamond, sir,” said the soldier, “and will soon shine brighter than any diamond upon earth.”
We passed through lanes and fields, over hills and through valleys, by open and retired paths, sometimes crossing over, and sometimes following the windings of a little brook, which gently murmured by the road-side. Conversation beguiled the distance, and shortened the apparent time of our journey, till we were nearly arrived at the Dairyman’s cottage.
As we approached it, we became silent. Thoughts of death, eternity, and salvation, inspired by the sight of a house where a dying believer lay, filled my own mind, and, I doubt not, that of my companion also.
No living object yet appeared, except the Dairyman’s dog, keeping a kind of mute watch at the door; for he did not, as formerly, bark at my approach. He seemed to partake so far of the feelings appropriate to the circumstances of the family, as not to wish to give a hasty orpainful alarm. He came forward to the little wicket-gate, then looked back at the house-door, as if conscious there was sorrow within. It was as if he wanted to say, “Tread softly over the threshold, as you enter the house of mourning; for my master’s heart is full of grief.”
The soldier took my horse, and tied it up in a shed. A solemn serenity appeared to surround the whole place; it was only interrupted by the breezes passing through the large elm-trees, which stood near the house, and which my imagination indulged itself in thinking were plaintive sighs of sorrow. I gently opened the door; no one appeared; and all was yet silent. The soldier followed; we came to the foot of the stairs.
“They are come,” said a voice, which I knew to be the father’s “they are come.”
He appeared at the top. I gave him my hand, and said nothing. On entering the room above, I saw the aged mother and her son supporting the much-loved sister: the son’s wife sat weeping in a window-seat, with a child on her lap; two or three persons attended in the room to discharge any office which friendship or necessity might require.
I sat down by the bed-side. The mother could not weep, but now and then sigheddeeply, as she alternately looked at Elizabeth and at me. The big tear rolled down the brother’s cheek, and testified an affectionate regard. The good old man stood at the foot of the bed, leaning upon the post, and unable to take his eyes off the child from whom he was so soon to part.
Elizabeth’s eyes were closed, and as yet she perceived me not. But over the face, though pale, sunk, and hollow, the peace of God which passeth all understanding, had cast a triumphant calm.
The soldier, after a short pause, silently reached out his Bible towards me, pointing with his finger at 1 Cor. xv. 55, 56, 58. I then broke silence by reading the passage, “O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
At the sound of these words her eyes opened, and something like a ray of Divine light beamed on her countenance, as she said, “Victory, victory! through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
She relapsed again, taking no further notice of any one present.
“God be praised for the triumph of faith!” said I.
“Amen!” replied the soldier.
The Dairyman’s uplifted eye showed that the amen was in his heart, though his tongue failed to utter it. A short struggling for breath took place in the dying young woman, which was soon over; and then I said to her,—
“My dear friend, do you not feel that you are supported?”
“The Lord deals very gently with me,” she replied.
“Are not his promises now very precious to you?”
“They are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus.”
“Are you in much bodily pain?”
“So little, that I almost forget it.”
“How good the Lord is!”
“And how unworthy am I!”
“You are going to see Him as He is.”
“I think—I hope—I believe that I am.”
She again fell into a short slumber.
Looking at her mother, I said, “What a mercy to have a child so near heaven as yours is!”
“And what a mercy,” she replied, in broken accents, “if her poor old mother might but follow her there! But, sir, it is so hard to part!”
“I hope through grace by faith you will soon meet, to part no more: it will be but a little while.”
“Sir,” said the Dairyman, “that thought supports me, and the Lord’s goodness makes me feel more reconciled than I was.”
“Father, mother,” said the reviving daughter, “He is good to me—trust Him, praise Him evermore.”
“Sir,” added she, in a faint voice, “I want to thank you for your kindness to me—I want to ask a favour; you buried my sister—will you do the same for me?”
“All shall be as you wish, if God permit;” I replied.
“Thank you, sir, thank you. I have another favour to ask: when I am gone, remember my father and mother. They are old, but I hope the good work is begun in their souls. My prayers are heard. Pray come and see them. I cannot speak much, but I want to speak for their sakes. Sir, remember them.”
The aged parents now sighed and sobbed aloud, uttering broken sentences, and gained some relief by such an expression of their feelings.
At length I said to Elizabeth—“Do you experience any doubts or temptations on the subject of your eternal safety?”
“No, sir; the Lord deals very gently with me, and gives me peace.”
“What are your views of the dark valley of death, now that you are passing through it?”
“It isnotdark.”
“Why so?”
“My Lord isthere, and He is my light and my salvation.”
“Have you any fears of more bodily suffering?”
“The Lord deals so gently with me, I can trust Him.”
Something of a convulsion came on. When it was past, she said again and again:
“The Lord deals very gently with me. Lord, I am thine, save me—blessed Jesus—precious Saviour—his blood cleanseth from all sin—Who shall separate?—His name is Wonderful—Thanks be to God—He giveth us the victory—I, even I, am saved—O grace, mercy, and wonder—Lord, receive my spirit! Dear sir, dear father, mother, friends, I am going—but all is well, well, well—”
She relapsed again. We knelt down to prayer: the Lord was in the midst of us, and blessed us.
She did not again revive while I remained, nor ever speak any more words which could be understood. She slumbered for about ten hours, and at last sweetly fell asleep in the arms of that Lord who had dealt so gently with her.
I left the house an hour after she had ceasedto speak. I pressed her hand as I was taking leave, and said “Christ is the Resurrection and the Life.” She gently returned the pressure, but could neither open her eyes nor utter a reply.
I never had witnessed a scene so impressive as this before. It completely filled my imagination as I returned home.
“Farewell,” thought I, “dear friend, till the morning of an eternal day shall renew our personal intercourse. Thou wast a brand plucked from the burning, that thou mightest become a star shining in the firmament of glory. I have seen thy light and thy good works, and will therefore glorify our Father which is in heaven. I have seen, in thy example, what it is to be a sinner freely saved by grace. I have learned from thee, as in a living mirror, who it is that begins, continues, and ends the work of faith and love. Jesus is all in all: He will and shall be glorified. He won the crown, and alone deserves to wear it. May no one attempt to rob Him of his glory! He saves, and saves to the uttermost. Farewell, dear sister in the Lord! Thy flesh and thy heart may fail; but God is the strength of thy heart, and shall be thy portion for ever.”
Who can conceive or estimate the nature of that change which the soul of a believer must experience at the moment when, quitting its tabernacle of clay, it suddenly enters into the presence of God? If, even while “we see through a glass darkly,” the views of Divine love and wisdom are so delightful to the eye of faith, what must be the glorious vision of God, when seen face to face? If it be so valued a privilege here on earth to enjoy the communion of saints, and to take sweet counsel together with our fellow-travellers towards the heavenly kingdom, what shall we see and know when we finally “come unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of angels, to the General Assembly and Church of the Firstborn, which are written in heaven, and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the New Covenant?” (Heb. xii. 22-24.)
If, during the sighs and tears of a mortal pilgrimage, the consolations of the Spirit are so precious, and the hope full of immortality is so animating to the soul, what heart can conceive,or what tongue utter its superior joys, when arrived at that state where sighing and sorrow flee away, and the tears shall be wiped from every eye?
Such ideas were powerfully associated together in my imagination as I travelled onward to the house where, in solemn preparation for the grave, lay the remains of the Dairyman’s daughter.
She had breathed her last shortly after the visit related in my former account. Permission was obtained, as before, in the case of her sister, that I should perform the funeral service. Many pleasing yet melancholy thoughts were connected with the fulfilment of this task. I retraced the numerous and important conversations which I had held with her.
But these could now no longer be maintained on earth. I reflected on the interesting and improved nature ofChristianfriendships, whether formed in palaces or in cottages; and felt thankful that I had so long enjoyed that privilege with the subject of this memoir. I then indulged a selfish sigh for a moment, on thinking that I could no longer hear the great truths of Christianity uttered by one who had drunk so deep of the waters of the river of life; but the rising murmur was checked by the animating thought: “She is gone to eternalrest—could I wish her back again in this vale of tears?”
At that moment the first sound of a tolling bell struck my ear. It proceeded from a village church in the valley directly beneath the ridge of a high hill, over which I had taken my way. It was Elizabeth’s funeral knell.
The sound was solemn; and in ascending to the elevated spot over which I rode, it acquired a peculiar tone and character. Tolling at slow and regular intervals (as was customary for a considerable time previous to the hour of burial), the bell, as it were, proclaimed the blessedness of the dead who die in the Lord, and also the necessity of the living pondering these things, and laying them to heart. It seemed to say: “Hear my warning voice, thou son of man. There is but a step between thee and death. Arise, prepare thine house, for thou shall die and not live.”
The scenery was in unison with that tranquil frame of mind which is most suitable for holy meditation. A rich and fruitful valley lay immediately beneath; it was adorned with cornfields and pastures through which a small river winded in a variety of directions, and many herds grazed upon its banks. A fine range of opposite hills, covered with grazing flocks, terminatedwith a bold sweep into the ocean, whose blue waves appeared at a distance beyond. Several villages, hamlets, and churches, were scattered in the valley. The noble mansions of the rich, and the lowly cottages of the poor, added their respective features to the landscape.
Do any of my readers inquire why I describe so minutely the circumstances of prospect and scenery which may be connected with the incidents I relate? My reply is, that the God of redemption is the God of creation likewise; and that we are taught in every part of the Word of God to unite the admiration of the beauties and wonders of nature to every other motive for devotion. When David considered the heavens, the work of God’s fingers, the moon and the stars which He has ordained, he was thereby led to the deepest humiliation of heart before his Maker. And when he viewed the sheep, and the oxen, and the beasts of the field, the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, he was constrained to cry out, “O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!” (Ps. viii. 1.)
I am the poor man’s friend, and wish more especially that every poor labouring man should know how to connect the goodness of God in creation and providence, with the unsearchable riches of his grace in the salvation of a sinner.And where can he learn this lesson more instructively than in looking around the fields, where his labour is appointed, and there tracing the handiwork of God in all that he beholds? Such meditations have often afforded me both profit and pleasure, and I wish my readers to share them with me.
The Dairyman’s cottage was rather more than a mile distant from the church. A lane, quite overshadowed with trees and high hedges, led from the foot of the hill to his dwelling. It was impossible at that time to overlook the suitable gloom of such an approach to the house of mourning.
I found, on my entrance, that several Christian friends from different parts of the neighbourhood had assembled together, to pay their last tribute of esteem and regard to the memory of the Dairyman’s daughter. Several of them had first become acquainted with her during the latter stage of her illness: some few had maintained an affectionate intercourse with her for a longer period. But all seemed anxious to manifest their respect for one who was endeared to them by such striking testimonies of true Christianity.
I was requested to go into the chamber where the relatives and a few other friends were gone to take a last look at the remains of Elizabeth.
It is not easy to describe the sensation which the mind experiences on the first sight of a dead countenance, which, when living, was loved and esteemed for the sake of that soul which used to give it animation. A deep and awful view of the separation that has taken place between the soul and body of the deceased, since we last beheld them, occupies the feelings; our friend seems to be both near, and yet far off. The most interesting and valuable part is fled away: what remains is but the earthly perishing habitation, no longer occupied by its tenant. Yet the features present the accustomed association of friendly intercourse. For one moment we could think them asleep. The next reminds us that the blood circulates no more: the eye has lost its power of seeing, the ear of hearing, the heart of throbbing, and the limbs of moving. Quickly a thought of glory breaks in upon the mind, and we imagine the dear departed soul to be arrived at its long wished-for rest. It is surrounded by cherubim and seraphim, and sings the song of Moses and the Lamb on Mount Sion. Amid the solemn stillness of the chamber of death, imagination hears heavenly hymns chanted by the spirits of just men made perfect. In another moment, the livid lips and sunken eye of the clay-cold corpse recall our thoughtsto earth, and to ourselves again. And while we think of mortality, sin, death, and the grave, we feel the prayer rise in our bosom—“O let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his!”
If there be a moment when Christ and salvation, death, judgment, heaven, and hell, appear more than ever to be momentous subjects of meditation, it is that which brings us to the side of a coffin containing the body of a departed believer.
Elizabeth’s features were altered, but much of her likeness remained. Her father and mother sat at the head, her brother at the foot of the coffin. The father silently and alternately looked upon his dead child, and then lifted up his eyes to heaven. A struggle for resignation to the will of God was manifest in his countenance; while the tears rolling down his aged cheeks at the same time declared his grief and affection. The poor mother cried and sobbed aloud, and appeared to be much overcome by the shock of separation from a daughter so justly dear to her. The weakness and infirmity of old age added a character to her sorrow, which called for much tenderness and compassion.
A remarkably decent-looking woman, who had the management of the few simple thoughsolemn ceremonies which the case required, advanced towards me, saying:
“Sir, this is rather a sight of joy than of sorrow. Our dear friend Elizabeth finds it to be so, I have no doubt. She is beyondallsorrow. Do you not think she is, sir?”
“After what I have known, and seen, and heard,” I replied, “I feel the fullest assurance that while her body remains here, the soul is with her Saviour in Paradise. She loved Himhere, andthereshe enjoys the pleasures which are at his right hand for evermore.”
“Mercy, mercy upon a poor old creature, almost broken down with age and grief! What shall I do? Betsy’s gone! My daughter’s dead! O, my child! I shall never see thee more! God be merciful to me a sinner!”—sobbed out the poor mother.
“That last prayer, my dear, good woman,” said I, “will bring you and your child together again. It is a cry that has brought thousands to glory. It brought your daughter there, and I hope it will bring you thither likewise. God will in nowise cast out any that come to Him.”
“My dear,” said the Dairyman, breaking the long silence he had maintained, “let us trust God with our child; and let us trust Him withour ownselves. ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!’ We are old, and can have but a little further to travel in our journey, and then—” he could say no more.
The soldier, mentioned in my last paper, reached a Bible into my hand, and said—“Perhaps, sir, you would not object to reading a chapter before we go to the church?”
I did so; it was the fourteenth of the Book of Job. A sweet tranquillity prevailed while I read it. Each minute that was spent in this funereal chamber seemed to be valuable. I made a few observations on the chapter, and connected them with the case of our departed sister.