{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19671/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19671","id":"gutenberg_19671","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19671","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Religion/Spirituality","Children's stories","Christian life -- Juvenile fiction","Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction","Poor -- Juvenile fiction"],"text":"Transcribed from the 1900 T. Nelson and Sons edition by David Price,\nemail ccx074@pglaf.org\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANNALS OF THE POOR\n\n\nBY\nTHE REV. LEGH RICHMOND, M.A.,\nLATE RECTOR OF TURVEY, BEDFORDSHIRE.\n\n\"Thou, O God, hast prepared of thy goodness for the poor.\"\n\nPSALM lxviii. 10.\n\nLondon:\nT. NELSON AND SONS, PATERNOSTER ROW.\nEDINBURGH; AND NEW YORK.\n1900\n\n\n\n\nTHE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER.\n\n\nPART I.\n\n\nIt is a delightful employment to discover and trace the operations of\ndivine grace, as they are manifested in the dispositions and lives of\nGod's real children.  It is peculiarly gratifying to observe how\nfrequently among the poorer classes of mankind the sunshine of mercy\nbeams upon the heart, and bears witness to the image of Christ which the\nSpirit of God has impressed thereupon.  Among such, the sincerity and\nsimplicity of the Christian character appear unencumbered by those\nobstacles to spirituality of mind and conversation which too often prove\na great hindrance to those who live in the higher ranks.  Many are the\ndifficulties which riches, worldly consequence, high connections, and the\nluxuriant refinements of polished society, throw in the way of religious\nprofession.  Happy indeed it is (and some such happy instances I know)\nwhere grace has so strikingly supported its conflict with natural pride,\nself-importance, the allurements of luxury, ease, and worldly opinion,\nthat the noble and mighty appear adorned with genuine poverty of spirit,\nself-denial, humble-mindedness, and deep spirituality of heart.\n\nBut, in general, if we want to see religion in its most simple and pure\ncharacter, we must look for it among the poor of this world who are rich\nin faith.  How often is the poor man's cottage the palace of God!  Many\ncan truly declare that they have there learned the most valuable lessons\nof faith and hope, and there witnessed the most striking demonstrations\nof the wisdom, power, and goodness of God.\n\nThe character which the present narrative is designed to introduce to the\nnotice of my readers is given _from real life and circumstances_.  I\nfirst became acquainted with her by receiving the following letter, which\nI transcribe from the original now before me:--\n\n   \"REV. SIR,\n\n   \"I take the liberty to write to you.  Pray excuse me, for I have never\n   spoken to you.  But I once heard you, when you preached at --- Church.\n   I believe you are a faithful preacher to warn sinners to flee from the\n   wrath that will be revealed against all those that live in sin, and\n   die impenitent.  Pray go on in the strength of the Lord.  And may he\n   bless you, and crown your labour of love with success, and give you\n   souls for your hire!\n\n   \"The Lord has promised to be with those whom he calls and sends forth\n   to preach his word, to the end of time; for without him we can do\n   nothing.  I was much rejoiced to hear of those marks of love and\n   affection to that poor soldier of the S. D. militia.  Surely the love\n   of Christ sent you to that poor man.  May that love ever dwell richly\n   in you by faith!  May it constrain you to seek the wandering souls of\n   men with the fervent desire to spend and be spent for his glory!  May\n   the unction of the Holy Spirit attend the word spoken by you with\n   power, and convey deep conviction to the hearts of your hearers!  May\n   many of them experience the divine change of being made new creatures\n   in Christ!\n\n   \"Sir, be fervent in prayer with God for the conversion of sinners.  His\n   power is great, and who can withstand it?  He has promised to answer\n   the prayer of faith, that is put up in his Son's name.  'Ask what ye\n   will, it shall be granted you.'  How this should strengthen our faith,\n   when we are taught by the word and the Spirit how to pray!  Oh, that\n   sweet inspiring hope! how it lifts up the fainting spirits, when we\n   look over the precious promises of God!  What a mercy if we know\n   Christ and the power of his resurrection in our own hearts!  Through\n   faith in Christ we rejoice in hope, and look up in expectation of that\n   time drawing near when all shall know and fear the Lord, and when a\n   nation shall be born in a day.\n\n   \"What a happy time when Christ's kingdom shall come!  Then shall 'his\n   will be done on earth as it is in heaven.'  Men shall be daily fed\n   with the manna of his love, and delight themselves with the Lord all\n   the day long.  Then what a paradise below they will enjoy!  How it\n   animates and enlivens my soul with vigour to pursue the ways of God,\n   that I may even now bear some humble part in giving glory to God and\n   the Lamb!\n\n   \"Sir, I began to write this on Sunday, being detained from attending\n   on public worship.  My dear and only sister, living as a servant with\n   Mrs. ---, was so ill, that I came here to attend in her place and on\n   her.  But now she is no more.\n\n   \"I was going to entreat you to write to her in answer to this, she\n   being convinced of the evil of her past life, and that she had not\n   walked in the ways of God, nor sought to please him.  But she\n   earnestly desired to do so.  This makes me have a comfortable hope\n   that she is gone to glory, and that she is now joining in sweet\n   concert with the angelic host in heaven to sing the wonders of\n   redeeming love.  I hope I may now write, 'Blessed are the dead that\n   die in the Lord.'\n\n   \"She expressed a desire to receive the Lord's Supper, and commemorate\n   his precious death and sufferings.  I told her as well as I was able\n   what it was to receive Christ into her heart; but as her weakness of\n   body increased, she did not mention it again.  She seemed quite\n   resigned before she died.  I do hope she is gone from a world of death\n   and sin to be with God for ever.\n\n   \"Sir, I hope you will not be offended with me, a poor ignorant person,\n   to take such a liberty as to write to you.  But I trust, as you are\n   called to instruct sinners in the ways of God, you will bear with me,\n   and be so kind to answer this ill-wrote letter, and give me some\n   instruction.  It is my heart's desire to have the mind that was in\n   Christ, that when I awake up in his likeness then I may be satisfied.\n\n   \"My sister expressed a wish that you might bury her.  The minister of\n   our parish, whither she will be carried, cannot come.  She will lie at\n   ---.  She died on Tuesday morning, and will be buried on Friday or\n   Saturday (whichever is most convenient to you), at three o'clock in\n   the afternoon.  Please to send an answer by the bearer, to let me know\n   whether you can comply with this request\n\n   \"From your unworthy servant,\n   \"ELIZABETH W---.\"\n\nI was much struck with the simple and earnest strain of devotion which\nthis letter breathed.  It was but indifferently written and spelt.  But\nthis the rather tended to endear the hitherto unknown writer, as it\nseemed characteristic of the union of humbleness of station with eminence\nof piety.  I felt quite thankful that I was favoured with a correspondent\nof this description; the more so, as such characters were at that time\nvery rare in the neighbourhood.  I have often wished that epistolary\nintercourse of this kind were more encouraged and practised among us.  I\nhave the greatest reason to speak well of its effects both on myself and\nothers.  Communication by letter as well as by conversation with the\npious poor has often been the instrument of animating and reviving my own\nheart in the midst of duty, and of giving me the most profitable\ninformation for the general conduct of the ministerial office.\n\nAs soon as the letter was read I inquired who was the bearer of it.\n\n\"He is waiting at the outside of the gate, sir,\" was the reply.\n\nI went out to speak him, and saw a venerable old man, whose long hoary\nhair and deeply wrinkled countenance commanded more than common respect.\nHe was resting his arm upon the gate, and tears were streaming down his\ncheeks.  On my approach he made a low bow, and said,--\n\n\"Sir, I have brought you a letter from my daughter, but I fear you will\nthink us very bold in asking you to take so much trouble.\"\n\n\"By no means,\" I replied; \"I shall be truly glad to oblige you and any of\nyour family in this matter, provided it be quite agreeable to the\nminister of your parish.\"\n\n\"Sir, he told me yesterday that he should be very glad if I could procure\nsome gentleman to come and bury my poor child for him, as he lives five\nmiles off, and has particular business on that day; so when I told my\ndaughter, she asked me to come to you, sir, and bring that letter, which\nwould explain the matter.\"\n\nI desired him to come into the house, and then said,--\n\n\"What is your occupation?\"\n\n\"Sir, I have lived most of my days in a little cottage at ---, six miles\nfrom here.  I have rented a few acres of ground, and kept some cows,\nwhich, in addition to my day-labour, has been the means of supporting and\nbringing up my family.\"\n\n\"What family have you?\"\n\n\"A wife, now getting very aged and helpless; two sons, and one daughter;\nfor my other poor dear child is just departed out of this wicked world.\"\n\n\"I hope for a better.\"\n\n\"I hope so too.  Poor thing, she did not use to take to such good ways as\nher sister; but I do believe that her sister's manner of talking with her\nbefore she died was the means of saving her soul.  What a mercy it is to\nhave such a child as mine is!  I never thought about my own soul\nseriously till she, poor girl, begged me to flee from the wrath to come.\"\n\n\"How old are you?\"\n\n\"Near seventy, and my wife is older.  We are getting old, and almost past\nour labour, but our daughter has left a good place, where she lived in\nservice, on purpose to come home and take care of us and our little\ndairy.  And a dear, dutiful, affectionate girl she is.\"\n\n\"Was she always so?\"\n\n\"No, sir; when she was very young she was all for the world, and\npleasure, and dress, and company.  Indeed we were all very ignorant, and\nthought if we took care for this life, and wronged nobody, we should be\nsure to go to heaven at last.  My daughters were both wilful, and, like\nourselves, strangers to the ways of God and the word of his grace.  But\nthe eldest of them went out to service, and some years ago she heard a\nsermon, preached at --- church by a gentleman that was going to --- as\nchaplain to the colony, and from that time she seemed quite another\ncreature.  She began to read the Bible, and became sober and steady.  The\nfirst time she returned home afterwards to see us she brought us a\nguinea, which she had saved from her wages, and said, as we were getting\nold, she was sure we should want help, adding, that she did not wish to\nspend it in fine clothes as she used to do, only to feed pride and\nvanity.  She said she would rather show gratitude to her dear father and\nmother, because Christ had shown such mercy to her.\n\n\"We wondered to hear her talk, and took great delight in her company; for\nher temper and behaviour were so humble and kind, she seemed so desirous\nto do us good both in soul and body, and was so different from what we\nhad ever seen her before, that careless and ignorant as we had been, we\nbegan to think there must be something real in religion, or it never\ncould alter a person so much in a little time.\n\n\"Her youngest sister, poor soul! used to laugh and ridicule her at that\ntime, and said her head was turned with her new ways.  'No, sister,' she\nwould say, 'not my _head_ but I hope my _heart_ is turned from the love\nof sin to the love of God.  I wish you may one day see, as I do, the\ndanger and vanity of your present condition.'\n\n\"Her poor sister would reply, 'I do not want to hear any of your\npreaching; I am no worse than other people, and that is enough for me.'\n'Well, sister,' Elizabeth would say, 'if you will not hear me, you cannot\nhinder me from praying for you, which I do with all my heart.'\n\n\"And now, sir, I believe those prayers are answered.  For when her sister\nwas taken ill, Elizabeth went to Mrs. ---'s to wait in her place, and\ntake care of her.  She said a great deal to her about her soul, and the\npoor girl began to be so deeply affected and sensible of her past sin,\nand so thankful for her sister's kind behaviour, that it gave her great\nhopes indeed for her sake.  When my wife and I went to see her as she lay\nsick, she told us how grieved and ashamed she was of her past life, but\nsaid she had a hope, through grace, that her dear sister's Saviour would\nbe her Saviour too, for she saw her own sinfulness, felt her own\nhelplessness, and only wished to cast herself upon Christ as her hope and\nsalvation.\n\n\"And now, sir, she is gone, and I hope and think her sister's prayers for\nher conversion to God have been answered.  The Lord grant the same for\nher poor father and mother's sake likewise!\"\n\nThis conversation was a very pleasing commentary upon the letter which I\nhad received, and made me anxious both to comply with the request and to\nbecome acquainted with the writer.  I promised the good dairyman to\nattend on the Friday at the appointed hour; and after some more\nconversation respecting his own state of mind under the present trial, he\nwent away.\n\nHe was a reverend old man; his furrowed cheeks, white locks, weeping\neyes, bent shoulders, and feeble gait, were characteristic of the aged\npilgrim.  As he slowly walked onward, supported by a stick, which seemed\nto have been the companion of many a long year, a train of reflections\noccurred, which I retrace with pleasure and emotion.\n\nAt the appointed hour I arrived at the church, and after a little while\nwas summoned to the churchyard gate to meet the funeral procession.  The\naged parents, the elder brother, and the sister, with other relatives,\nformed an affecting group.  I was struck with the humble, pious, and\npleasing countenance of the young woman from whom I had received the\nletter.  It bore the marks of great seriousness without affectation, and\nof much serenity mingled with a glow of devotion.\n\nA circumstance occurred during the reading of the Burial Service, which I\nthink it right to mention as one among many testimonies of the solemn and\nimpressive tendency of our truly evangelical Liturgy.\n\nA man of the village, who had hitherto been of a very careless and even\nprofligate character, went into the church through mere curiosity, and\nwith no better purpose than that of vacantly gazing at the ceremony.  He\ncame likewise to the grave, and during the reading of those prayers which\nare appointed for that part of the service, his mind received a deep,\nserious conviction of his sin and spiritual danger.  It was an impression\nthat never wore off, but gradually ripened into the most satisfactory\nevidence of an entire change, of which I had many and long-continued\nproofs.  He always referred to the Burial Service, and to some particular\nsentences of it, as the clearly ascertained instrument of bringing him,\nthrough grace, to the knowledge of the truth.\n\nThe day was therefore one to be remembered.  Remembered let it be by\nthose who love to hear \"the short and simple annals of the poor.\"\n\nWas there not a manifest and happy connection between the circumstances\nthat providentially brought the serious and the careless to the same\ngrave on that day together?  How much do _they_ lose who neglect to trace\nthe leadings of God in providence as links in the chain of his eternal\npurpose of redemption and grace!\n\n   \"While infidels may scoff, let us adore!\"\n\nAfter the service was concluded I had a short conversation with the good\nold couple and their daughter.  She told me that she intended to remain a\nweek or two at the gentleman's house where her sister died till another\nservant should arrive and take her sister's place.\n\n\"I shall be truly obliged,\" said she, \"by an opportunity of conversing\nwith you, either there or at my father's when I return home, which will\nbe in the course of a fortnight at the furthest.  I shall be glad to talk\nto you about my sister, whom you have just buried.\"\n\nHer aspect and address were highly interesting.  I promised to see her\nvery soon, and then returned home, quietly reflecting on the\ncircumstances of the funeral at which I had been engaged.  I blessed the\nGod of the poor, and prayed that the poor might become rich in faith, and\nthe rich be made poor in spirit.\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\n\nA sweet solemnity often possesses the mind whilst retracing past\nintercourse with departed friends.  How much is this increased when they\nwere such as lived and died in the Lord!  The remembrance of former\nscenes and conversations with those who, we believe, are now enjoying the\nuninterrupted happiness of a better world, fills the heart with pleasing\nsadness, and animates the soul with the hopeful anticipation of a day\nwhen the glory of the Lord shall be revealed in the assembling of all his\nchildren together, never more to be separated.  Whether they were rich or\npoor while on earth is a matter of trifling consequence: the valuable\npart of their character is, that they are \"kings and priests unto God;\"\nand this is their true nobility.  In the number of now departed\nbelievers, with whom I once loved to converse on the grace and glory of\nthe kingdom of God, was the Dairyman's daughter.\n\nAbout a week after the funeral, I went to visit the family at ---, in\nwhose service the younger sister had lived and died, and where Elizabeth\nwas requested to remain for a short time in her stead.\n\nThe house was a large and venerable mansion.  It stood in a beautiful\nvalley at the foot of a high hill.  It was embowered in fine woods, which\nwere interspersed in every direction with rising, falling, and swelling\ngrounds.  The manor-house had evidently descended through a long line of\nancestry, from a distant period of time.  The Gothic character of its\noriginal architecture was still preserved in the latticed windows,\nadorned with carved divisions and pillars and stonework.  Several pointed\nterminations also, in the construction of the roof, according to the\ncustom of our forefathers, fully corresponded with the general features\nof the building.\n\nOne end of the house was entirely clothed with the thick foliage of an\nimmense ivy, which climbed beyond customary limits, and embraced a lofty\nchimney up to its very summit.  Such a tree seemed congenial to the walls\nthat supported it, and conspired with the antique fashion of the place to\ncarry imagination back to the days of our ancestors.\n\nAs I approached, I was led to reflect on the lapse of ages, and the\nsuccessive generations of men, each in their turn occupying lands,\nhouses, and domains; each in their turn also disappearing, and leaving\ntheir inheritance to be enjoyed by others.  David once observed the same,\nand cried out, \"Behold, thou hast made my days as an handbreadth, and\nmine age is as nothing before thee: verily every man at his best state is\naltogether vanity.  Surely every man walketh in a vain show; surely they\nare disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall\ngather them.\"\n\nHappy would it be for the rich if they more frequently meditated on the\nuncertainty of all their possessions, and the frail nature of every\nearthly tenure.  \"Their inward thought is, that their houses shall\ncontinue for ever, and their dwelling-places to all generations: they\ncall their lands after their own names.  Nevertheless, man being in\nhonour abideth not: he is like the beasts that perish.  This their way is\ntheir folly; yet their posterity approve their sayings.  Like sheep they\nare laid in the grave; death shall feed on them; and their beauty shall\nconsume in the grave from their dwelling.\"\n\nAs I advanced to the mansion, a pleasing kind of gloom overspread the\nfront: it was occasioned by the shade of trees, and gave a characteristic\neffect to the ancient fabric.  I instantly recollected that death had\nvery recently visited the house and that one of its present inhabitants\nwas an affectionate mourner for a departed sister.\n\nThere is a solemnity in the thought of a recent death, which will\nassociate itself with the very walls from whence we are conscious that a\nsoul has just taken its flight to eternity.\n\nAfter passing some time in conversation with the superiors of the family,\nin the course of which I was much gratified by hearing of the unremitted\nattention which the elder sister had paid to the younger during the\nillness of the latter, I received likewise other testimonies of the\nexcellency of her general character and conduct in the house.  I then\ntook leave, requesting permission to see her, agreeably to the promise I\nhad made at the funeral, not many days before.\n\nI was shown into a parlour, where I found her alone.  She was in deep\nmourning.  She had a calmness and serenity in her countenance which\nexceedingly struck me, and impressed some idea of those attainments which\na further acquaintance with her afterwards so much increased.\n\nShe spoke of her sister.  I had the satisfaction of finding that she had\ngiven very hopeful proofs of a change of heart before she died.  The\nprayers and earnest exhortations of Elizabeth had been blessed to a happy\neffect.  She described what had passed with such a mixture of sisterly\naffection and pious dependence on the mercy of God to sinners, as\nconvinced me that her own heart was under the influence of \"pure and\nundefiled religion.\"\n\nShe requested leave occasionally to correspond with me on serious\nsubjects, stating that she needed much instruction.  She hoped I would\npardon the liberty which she had taken by introducing herself to my\nnotice.  She expressed a trust that the Lord would overrule both the\ndeath of her sister and the personal acquaintance with me that resulted\nfrom it, to a present and future good, as it respected herself, and also\nher parents, with whom she statedly lived, and to whom she expected to\nreturn in a few days.\n\nFinding that she was wanted in some household duty, I did not remain long\nwith her, but left her with an assurance that I proposed to visit her\nparents very shortly.\n\n\"Sir,\" said she, \"I take it very kind that you have condescended to leave\nthe company of the rich, and converse with the poor.  I wish I could have\nsaid more to you respecting my own state of mind.  Perhaps I shall be\nbetter able another time.  When you next visit me, instead of finding me\nin these noble walls, you will see me in a poor cottage.  But I am\nhappiest when there.  Once more, sir, I thank you for your past kindness\nto me and mine, and may God in many ways bless you for it!\"\n\nI quitted the house with no small degree of satisfaction, in consequence\nof the new acquaintance which I had formed.  I discovered traces of a\ncultivated as well as a spiritual mind.  I felt that religious\nintercourse with those of low estate may be rendered eminently useful to\nothers, whose outward station and advantages are far above their own.\n\nHow often does it appear that \"God hath chosen the weak things of the\nworld to confound the things which are mighty and base things of the\nworld, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, and things which\nare not, to bring to nought things that are; that no flesh should glory\nin his presence!\"\n\nIt was not unfrequently my custom, when my mind was filled with any\ninteresting subject for meditation, to seek some spot where the beauties\nof natural prospect might help to form pleasing and useful associations.\nI therefore ascended gradually to the very summit of the hill adjoining\nthe mansion where my visit had just been made.  Here was placed an\nelevated sea-mark: it was in the form of a triangular pyramid, and built\nof stone.  I sat down on the ground near it, and looked at the\nsurrounding prospect, which was distinguished for beauty and\nmagnificence.  It was a lofty station, which commanded a complete circle\nof interesting objects to engage the spectator's attention.  Southward\nthe view was terminated by a long range of hills, at about six miles\ndistance.  They met to the westward another chain of hills, of which the\none whereon I sat formed a link, and the whole together nearly\nencompassed a rich and fruitful valley, filled with cornfields and\npastures.  Through this vale winded a small river for many miles: much\ncattle were feeding on its banks.  Here and there lesser eminences arose\nin the valley: some covered with wood, others with corn or grass, and a\nfew with heath or fern.  One of these little hills was distinguished by a\nparish church at the top, presenting a striking feature in the landscape.\nAnother of these elevations, situated in the centre of the valley, was\nadorned with a venerable holly-tree, which has grown there for ages.  Its\nsingular height and wide-spreading dimensions not only render it an\nobject of curiosity to the traveller, but of daily usefulness to the\npilot, as a mark visible from the sea, whereby to direct his vessel safe\ninto harbour.  Villages, churches, country-seats, farm-houses, and\ncottages, were scattered over every part of the southern valley.  In this\ndirection also, at the foot of the hill where I was stationed, appeared\nthe ancient mansion which I had just quitted, embellished with its woods,\ngroves, and gardens.\n\nSouth-eastward I saw the open ocean, bounded only by the horizon.  The\nsun shone, and gilded the waves with a glittering light that sparkled in\nthe most brilliant manner.  More to the east, in continuation of that\nline of hills where I was placed, rose two downs, one beyond the other,\nboth covered with sheep, and the sea just visible over the furthest of\nthem, as a terminating boundary.  In this point ships were seen, some\nsailing, others at anchor.  Here the little river which watered the\nsouthern valley finished its course, and ran through meadows into the\nsea, in an eastward direction.\n\nOn the north the sea appeared like a noble river, varying from three to\nseven miles in breadth, between the banks of the opposite coast and those\nof the island which I inhabited.  Immediately underneath me was a fine\nwoody district of country, diversified by many pleasing objects.  Distant\ntowns were visible on the opposite shore.  Numbers of ships occupied the\nsheltered station which this northern channel afforded them.  The eye\nroamed with delight over an expanse of near and remote beauties, which\nalternately caught the observation, and which harmonized together, and\nproduced a scene of peculiar interest.\n\nWestward the hills followed each other, forming several intermediate and\npartial valleys, in a kind of undulations, like the waves of the sea;\nand, bending to the south, completed the boundary of the larger valley\nbefore described, to the southward of the hill on which I sat.  In many\ninstances the hills were cultivated with corn to their very summits, and\nseemed to defy the inclemency of the weather, which, at these heights,\nusually renders the ground incapable of bringing forth and ripening the\ncrops of grain.  One hill alone, the highest in elevation, and about ten\nmiles to the south-westward, was enveloped in a cloud, which just\npermitted a dim and hazy sight of a signal-post, a light-house, and an\nancient chantry, built on its summit.\n\nAmidst these numerous specimens of delightful scenery I found a mount for\ncontemplation, and here I indulged it.  \"How much of the natural beauties\nof Paradise still remain in the world, although its spiritual character\nhas been so awfully defaced by sin!  But when divine grace renews the\nheart of the fallen sinner, Paradise is regained, and much of its beauty\nrestored to the soul.  As this prospect is compounded of hill and dale,\nland and sea, woods and plains, all sweetly blended together, and\nrelieving each other in the landscape; so do the gracious dispositions\nwrought in the soul produce a beauty and harmony of scene to which it was\nbefore a stranger.\"\n\nI looked towards the village in the plain below, where the Dairyman's\nyounger daughter was buried.  I retraced the simple solemnities of the\nfuneral.  I connected the principles and conduct of her sister with the\npresent probably happy state of her soul in the world of spirits, and was\ngreatly impressed with a sense of the importance of family influence as a\nmeans of grace.  \"That young woman,\" I thought, \"has been the conductor\nof not only a sister, but perhaps a father and mother also, to the true\nknowledge of God, and may, by the divine blessing, become so to others.\nIt is a glorious occupation to win souls to Christ, and guide them out of\nEgyptian bondage through the wilderness into the promised Canaan.  Happy\nare the families who are walking hand in hand together, as pilgrims,\ntowards the heavenly country.  May the number of such be daily\nincreased?\"\n\nCasting my eye over the numerous dwellings in the vales on my right and\nleft, I could not help thinking, \"How many of their inhabitants are\nignorant of the ways of God, and strangers to his grace!  May this\nthought stimulate to activity and diligence in the cause of immortal\nsouls!  They are precious in God's sight--they ought to be so in ours.\"\n\nSome pointed and affecting observations to that effect recurred to my\nmind as having been made by the young person with whom I had been just\nconversing.  Her mind appeared to be much impressed with the duty of\nspeaking and acting for God \"while it is day,\" conscious that \"the night\ncometh, when no man can work.\"  Her laudable anxiety on this head was\noften testified to me afterwards, both by letter and conversation.  What\nshe felt herself, in respect to endeavours to do good, she happily\ncommunicated to others with whom she corresponded or conversed.\n\nTime would not permit my continuing so long in the enjoyment of these\nmeditations, on this lovely mount of observation, as my heart desired.  On\nmy return home I wrote a few lines to the Dairyman's daughter, chiefly\ndictated by the train of thought which had occupied my mind while I sat\non the hill.\n\nOn the next Sunday evening I received her reply, of which the following\nis a transcript:--\n\n   \"Sunday.\n\n   \"REV. SIR,\n\n   \"I am this day deprived of an opportunity of attending the house of\n   God, to worship him.  But, glory be to his name, he is not confined to\n   time or place.  I feel him present with me where I am, and his\n   presence makes my paradise; for where he is, is heaven.  I pray God\n   that a double portion of his grace and Holy Spirit may rest upon you\n   this day; that his blessing may attend all your faithful labours; and\n   that you may find the truth of his word assuring us that wherever we\n   assemble together in his name, there is he in the midst to bless every\n   waiting soul.\n\n   \"How precious are all his promises!  We ought never to doubt the truth\n   of his word.  For he will never deceive us if we go on in faith,\n   always expecting to receive what his goodness waits to give.  Dear\n   sir, I have felt it very consoling to read your kind letter to-day.  I\n   feel thankful to God for ministers in our church who love and fear his\n   name: there it is where the people in general look for salvation; and\n   there may they ever find it, for Jesus' sake!  May his word, spoken by\n   you, his chosen vessel of grace, be made spirit and life to their dead\n   souls!  May it come from you as an instrument in the hands of God, as\n   sharp arrows from a strong archer, and strike a death-blow to all\n   their sins!  How I long to see the arrows of conviction fasten on the\n   minds of those that are hearers of the word, and not doers!  O sir, be\n   ambitious for the glory of God and the salvation of souls!  It will\n   add to the lustre of your crown in glory, as well as to your present\n   joy and peace.  We should be willing to spend and be spent in his\n   service, saying, 'Lord, may thy will be done by me on earth, even as\n   it is by the angels in heaven.'  So you may expect to see his face\n   with joy, and say, 'Here am I, Lord, and all the souls thou hast given\n   me.'\n\n   \"It seems wonderful that we should neglect any opportunity of doing\n   good, when there is, if it be done from love to God and his creatures,\n   a present reward of grace, in reflecting that we are using the talents\n   committed to our care, according to the power and ability which we\n   receive from him.  God requires not what he has not promised to give.\n   But when we look back, and reflect that there have been opportunities\n   in which we have neglected to take up our cross and speak and act for\n   God, what a dejection of mind we feel!  We are then justly filled with\n   shame.  Conscious of being ashamed of Christ, we cannot come with that\n   holy boldness to a throne of grace, nor feel that free access when we\n   make our supplications.\n\n   \"We are commanded to provoke one another to love and good works; and\n   where two are agreed together in the things of God, they may say,--\n\n   'And if our fellowship below\n      In Jesus be so sweet,\n   What heights of rapture shall we know\n      When round the throne we meet!'\n\n   \"Sir, I hope Mrs. --- and you are both of one heart and one mind.  Then\n   you will sweetly agree in all things that make for your present and\n   eternal happiness.  Christ sent his disciples out, not singly, but two\n   and two, that they might comfort and help each other in those ways and\n   works which their Lord commanded them to pursue.\n\n   \"It has been my lot to have been alone the greatest part of the time\n   that I have known the ways of God.  I therefore find it such a treat\n   to my soul when I can meet with any who love to talk of the goodness\n   and love of God, and all his gracious dealings.  What a comfortable\n   reflection, to think of spending a whole eternity in that delightful\n   employment! to tell to listening angels his love 'immense,\n   unsearchable!'\n\n   \"Dear sir, I thank you for your kindness and condescension in leaving\n   those that are of high rank and birth in the world, to converse with\n   me, who am but a servant here below.  But when I consider what a high\n   calling, what honour and dignity, God has conferred upon me, to be\n   called his child, to be born of his Spirit, made an heir of glory, and\n   joint heir with Christ; how humble and circumspect should I be in all\n   my ways, as a dutiful and loving child to an affectionate and loving\n   Father!  When I seriously consider these things, it fills me with love\n   and gratitude to God; and I do not wish for any higher station, nor\n   envy the rich.  I rather pity them, if they are not good as well as\n   great.  My blessed Lord was pleased to appear in the form of a\n   servant, and I long to be like him.\n\n   \"I did not feel in so happy a frame of conversation that day, nor yet\n   that liberty to explain my thoughts which I sometimes do.  The fault\n   must have been all in myself; for there was nothing in you but what\n   seemed to evidence a Christian spirit, temper, and disposition.  I\n   very much wished for an opportunity to converse with you.  I feel very\n   thankful to God that you do take up the cross, and despise the shame:\n   if you are found faithful, you will soon sit down with him in glory.\n\n   \"I have written to the Rev. Mr. ---, to thank him for permitting you\n   to perform the burial service at --- over my dear departed sister, and\n   to tell him of the kind way in which you consented to do it.  I should\n   mention that your manner of reading the service on that day had a\n   considerable effect on the hearers.\n\n   \"Pray excuse all faults, and correct my errors.  I expect in a few\n   days to return home to my parents' house.  We shall rejoice to see you\n   there.\n\n   \"From your humble servant in Christ,\n\n   \"E--- W---.\"\n\nIt was impossible to view such a correspondent with indifference.  I had\njust returned from a little cottage assembly, where, on Sunday evenings,\nI sometimes went to instruct a few poor families in one of the hamlets\nbelonging to my parish.  I read the letter, and closed the day with\nthanksgiving to God for thus enabling those who fear his name to build up\neach other in fear and love.\n\nOf old time \"they that feared the Lord spake often one to another; and\nthe Lord hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written\nbefore him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his\nname.\"\n\nThat book of remembrance is not yet closed.\n\n\n\nPART III.\n\n\nThe mind of man is like a moving picture, supplied with objects not only\nfrom contemplation on things present, but from the fruitful sources of\nrecollection and anticipation.\n\nMemory retraces past events, and restores an ideal reality to scenes\nwhich are gone by for ever.  They live again in revived imagery, and we\nseem to hear and see with renewed emotions what we heard and saw at a\nformer period.  Successions of such recollected circumstances often form\na series of welcome memorials.  In religious meditations, the memory\nbecomes a sanctified instrument of spiritual improvement.\n\nAnother part of this animated picture is furnished by the pencil of Hope.\nShe draws encouraging prospects for the soul, by connecting the past and\nthe present with the future.  Seeing the promises afar off, she is\npersuaded of their truth, and embraces them as her own.\n\nThe Spirit of God gives a blessing to both these acts of the mind, and\nemploys them in the service of religion.  Every faculty of body and soul,\nwhen considered as a part of \"the purchased possession\" of the Saviour,\nassumes a new character.  How powerfully does the apostle on this ground\nurge a plea for holy activity and watchfulness!  \"What! know ye not that\nyour body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have\nof God, and ye are not your own?  For ye are bought with a price;\ntherefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's.\"\n\nThe Christian may derive much profit and enjoyment from the use of the\nmemory as it concerns those transactions in which he once bore a part.  In\nhis endeavours to recall past conversations and intercourse with deceased\nfriends, in particular, the powers of remembrance greatly improve by\nexercise.  One revived idea produces another, till the mind is most\nagreeably and usefully occupied with lively and holy imaginations.\n\n   \"Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain,\n   Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain.\n   Awake but one, and lo! what myriads rise!\n   Each stamps its image as the other flies.\n   Each, as the varied avenues of sense\n   Delight or sorrow to the soul dispense,\n   Brightens or fades; yet all, with sacred art,\n   Control the latent fibres of the heart.\"\n\nMay it please God to bless, both to the reader and the writer, this\nfeeble attempt to recollect some of the communications which I once\nenjoyed in my visits to the Dairyman's dwelling.\n\nVery soon after the receipt of the last letter, I rode for the first time\nto see the family at their own house.  The principal part of the road lay\nthrough retired narrow lanes, beautifully overarched with groves of nut\nand other trees, which screened the traveller from the rays of the sun,\nand afforded many interesting objects for admiration, in the flowers,\nshrubs, and young trees, which grew upon the high banks on each side of\nthe road.  Many grotesque rocks, with little trickling streams of water\noccasionally breaking out of them, varied the recluse scenery, and\nproduced a romantic and pleasing effect.\n\nHere and there the more distant prospect beyond was observable through\ngaps and hollow places on the roadside.  Lofty hills, with many signal-\nposts, obelisks, and light-houses on their summits, appeared at these\nintervals; rich cornfields were also visible through some of the open\nplaces; and now and then, when the road ascended a hill, the sea, with\nships at various distances, was seen.  But for the most part shady\nseclusion, and objects of a more minute and confined nature, gave a\ncharacter to the journey, and invited contemplation.\n\nHow much do they lose who are strangers to serious meditation on the\nwonders and beauties of nature!  How gloriously the God of creation\nshines in his works!  Not a tree, or leaf, or flower, not a bird or\ninsect, but it proclaims in glowing language, \"God made me.\"\n\nAs I approached the village where the good old Dairyman dwelt, I observed\nhim in a little field, driving his two cows before him towards a yard and\nhovel which adjoined his cottage.  I advanced very near him without his\nobserving me, for his sight was dim.  On my calling out to him, he\nstarted at the sound of my voice, but with much gladness of heart\nwelcomed me, saying, \"Bless your heart, sir, I am glad you are come: we\nhave looked for you every day this week.\"\n\nThe cottage door opened, and the daughter came out, followed by her aged\nand infirm mother.  The sight of me naturally brought to recollection the\ngrave at which we had before met.  Tears of affection mingled with the\nsmile of satisfaction with which I was received by these worthy\ncottagers.  I dismounted and was conducted through a neat little garden,\npart of which was shaded by two large overspreading elm-trees, to the\nhouse.  Decency and order were manifested within and without.  No excuse\nwas made here, on the score of poverty, for confusion and uncleanliness\nin the disposal of their little household.  Everything wore the aspect of\nneatness and propriety.  On each side of the fireplace stood an old oaken\narm-chair, where the venerable parents rested their weary limbs after the\nday's labour was over.  On a shelf in one corner lay two Bibles, with a\nfew religious books and tracts.  The little room had two windows: a\nlovely prospect of hills, woods, and fields, appeared through one; and\nthe other was more than half obscured by the branches of a vine which was\ntrained across it; between its leaves the sun shone, and cast a cheerful\nlight over the whole place.\n\n\"This,\" thought I, \"is a fit residence for piety, peace, and contentment.\nMay I learn a fresh lesson for advancement in each, through the blessing\nof God on this visit.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the daughter, \"we are not worthy that you should come under\nour roof.  We take it very kind that you should travel so far to see us.\"\n\n\"My Master,\" I replied, \"came a great deal further to visit us poor\nsinners.  He left the bosom of his Father, laid aside his glory, and came\ndown to this lower world on a visit of mercy and love; and ought not we,\nif we profess to follow him, to bear each other's infirmities, and go\nabout doing good as he did?\"\n\nThe old man now entered, and joined his wife and daughter in giving me a\ncordial welcome.  Our conversation soon turned to the loss they had so\nlately sustained.  The pious and sensible disposition of the daughter was\npeculiarly manifested, as well in what she said to her parents as in what\nshe more immediately addressed to myself.  I had now a further\nopportunity of remarking the good sense and agreeable manner which\naccompanied her expressions of devotedness to God, and love to Christ for\nthe great mercies which he had bestowed upon her.  During her residence\nin different gentlemen's families where she had been in service, she had\nacquired a superior behaviour and address; but sincere piety rendered her\nvery humble and unassuming in manner and conversation.  She seemed\nanxious to improve the opportunity of my visit to the best purpose for\nher own and her parents' sake; yet there was nothing of unbecoming\nforwardness, no self-confidence or conceitedness in her conduct.  She\nunited the firmness and solicitude of the Christian with the modesty of\nthe female and the dutifulness of the daughter.  It was impossible to be\nin her company and not observe how truly her temper and conversation\nadorned the principles which she professed.\n\nI soon discovered how eager and how successful also she had been in her\nendeavours to bring her father and mother to the knowledge and experience\nof the truth.  This is a lovely feature in the character of a young\nChristian.  If it have pleased God, in the free dispensation of his\nmercy, to call the child by his grace while the parents remain still in\nignorance and sin, how great is the duty incumbent on that child to do\nwhat is possible to promote the conversion of those to whom so much is\nowing!  Happy is it when the ties of grace sanctify those of nature!\n\nThe aged couple evidently regarded and spoke of this daughter as their\nteacher and admonisher in divine things, while at the same time they\nreceived from her every token of filial submission and obedience,\ntestified by continual endeavours to serve and assist them to the utmost\nof her power in the daily concerns of the household.\n\nThe religion of this young woman was of a highly spiritual character, and\nof no ordinary attainment.  Her views of the divine plan in saving the\nsinner were clear and scriptural.  She spoke much of the joys and sorrows\nwhich, in the course of her religious progress, she had experienced; but\nshe was fully sensible that there is far more in real religion than mere\noccasional transition from one frame of mind and spirits to another.  She\nbelieved that the experimental acquaintance of the heart with God\nprincipally consisted in so living upon Christ by faith as to aim at\nliving like him by love.  She knew that the love of God toward the\nsinner, and the path of duty prescribed to the sinner, are both of an\nunchangeable nature.  In a believing dependence on the one, and an\naffectionate walk in the other, she sought and found \"the peace of God\nwhich passeth all understanding;\" for \"so he giveth his beloved rest.\"\n\nShe had read but few books besides her Bible; but these few were\nexcellent in their kind, and she spoke of their contents as one who knew\ntheir value.  In addition to a Bible and Prayer-book, \"Doddridge's Rise\nand Progress,\" \"Romaine's Life, Walk, and Triumph of Faith,\" \"Bunyan's\nPilgrim,\" \"Alleine's Alarm,\" \"Baxter's Saint's Everlasting Rest,\" a hymn-\nbook, and a few tracts, completed her library.\n\nI observed in her countenance a pale and delicate hue, which I afterwards\nfound to be a presage of consumption; and the idea then occurred to me\nthat she would not live very long.\n\nTime passed on swiftly with this interesting family, and after having\npartaken of some plain and wholesome refreshment, and enjoyed a few\nhours' conversation with them, I found it was necessary for me to return\nhomewards.  The disposition and character of the parties may be in some\nsort ascertained by the expressions at parting.\n\n\"God send you safe home again,\" said the aged mother, \"and bless the day\nthat brought you to see two poor old creatures such as we are, in our\ntrouble and affliction.  Come again, sir, come again when you can; and\nthough I am a poor ignorant soul, and not fit to talk to such a gentleman\nas you, yet my dear child shall speak for me.  She is the greatest\ncomfort I have left, and I hope the good Lord will spare her to support\nmy trembling limbs and feeble spirits, till I lie down with my other dear\ndeparted children in the grave.\"\n\n\"Trust to the Lord,\" I answered, \"and remember his gracious promise:\n'Even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs I will carry you.'\"\n\n\"I thank you, sir,\" said the daughter, \"for your Christian kindness to me\nand my friends.  I believe the blessing of the Lord has attended your\nvisit, and I hope I have experienced it to be so.  My dear father and\nmother will, I am sure, remember it; and I rejoice in the opportunity of\nseeing so kind a friend under this roof.  My Saviour has been abundantly\ngood to me, in plucking me as 'a brand from the burning,' and showing me\nthe way of life and peace; and I hope it is my heart's desire to live to\nhis glory.  But I long to see these dear friends enjoy the power and\ncomfort of religion likewise.\"\n\n\"I think it evident,\" I replied, \"that the promise is fulfilled in their\ncase: 'It shall come to pass that at evening time it shall be light.\"\n\n\"I believe it,\" she said, \"and praise God for the blessed hope.\"\n\n\"Thank him, too, that you have been the happy instrument of bringing them\nto the light.\"\n\n\"I do, sir; yet when I think of my own unworthiness and insufficiency, I\nrejoice with trembling.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the good old man, \"I am sure the Lord will reward you for\nthis kindness.  Pray for us, old as we are, and sinners as we have been,\nthat yet he would have mercy upon us at the eleventh hour.  Poor Betsy\nstrives much for our sakes, both in body and soul: she works hard all day\nto save us trouble, and I fear has not strength to support all she does;\nand then she talks to us, and reads to us, and prays for us, that we may\nbe saved from the wrath to come.  Indeed, sir, she's a rare child to us.\"\n\n\"Peace be to you, and to all that belong to you!\"\n\n\"Amen, and thank you, dear sir,\" was echoed from each tongue.\n\nThus we parted for that time.  My returning meditations were sweet, and I\nhope profitable.\n\nMany other visits were afterwards made by me to this peaceful cottage,\nand I always found increasing reason to thank God for the intercourse I\nthere enjoyed.\n\nAn interval of some length occurred once during that year in which I had\nnot seen the Dairyman's family.  I was reminded of the circumstance by\nthe receipt of the following letter:--\n\n   \"REV. SIR,\n\n   \"I have been expecting to see or hear from you for a considerable\n   time.  Excuse the liberty I take in sending you another letter.  I\n   have been confined to the house the greater part of the time since I\n   left ---.  I took cold that day, and have been worse ever since.  I\n   walk out a little on these fine days, but seem to myself to walk very\n   near the borders of eternity.  Glory be to God, it is a very pleasing\n   prospect before me!  Though I feel the working of sin, and am abased,\n   yet Jesus shows his mercy to be mine, and I trust that I am his.  At\n   such times--\n\n   'My soul would leave this heavy clay\n      At his transporting word,\n   Run up with joy the shining way\n      To meet and prove the Lord.\n\n   Fearless of hell and ghastly death,\n      I'd break through ev'ry foe;\n   The wings of love and arms of faith\n      Would bear me conqu'ror through.'\n\n   My desire is to live every moment to God, that I may, through his\n   grace, be kept in that heavenly, happy frame of mind, that I shall\n   wish for at the hour of death.  We cannot live or die happy without\n   this; and to keep it, we must be continually watching and praying: for\n   we have many enemies to disturb our peace.  I am so very weak, that\n   now I can go nowhere to any outward means for that help which is so\n   refreshing to my spirit.\n\n   \"I should have been very happy to have heard you last Sunday, when you\n   preached at ---.  I could not walk so far.  I hope the word spoken by\n   you was made a blessing to many who heard it.  It was my earnest\n   prayer to God that it might be so.  But, alas! once calling does not\n   awaken many that are in a sound sleep.  Yet the voice of God is\n   sometimes very powerful, when his ministers speak; when they are\n   influenced by his Holy Spirit, and are simple and sincere in holding\n   forth the word of life.  Then it will teach us all things, and\n   enlighten our mind and reveal unto us the hidden things of darkness,\n   and give us out of that divine treasure 'things new and old.'  Resting\n   on God to work in us both to will and to do of his own good pleasure,\n   we ought always to work as diligent servants, that know they have a\n   good Master, that will surely not forget their labour of love.\n\n   \"If we could but fix our eyes always on that crown of glory that waits\n   us in the skies, we should never grow weary in well-doing, but should\n   run with patience and delight in the work and ways of God, where he\n   appoints us.  We should not then, as we too frequently do, suffer\n   these trifling objects here on earth to draw away our minds from God,\n   to rob him of his glory and our souls of that happiness and comfort\n   which the believer may enjoy amidst outward afflictions.  If we thus\n   lived more by faith in the Son of God, we should endeavour to stir up\n   all whom we could to seek after God.  We should tell them what he has\n   done for us, and what he would do for them if they truly sought him.\n   We should show them what a glorious expectation there is for all true\n   believers and sincere seekers.\n\n   \"When our minds are so fixed on God, we are more desirous of\n   glorifying him, in making known his goodness to us, than the proud\n   rich man is of getting honour to himself.  I mourn over my own\n   backwardness to this exercise of duty, when I think of God's\n   willingness to save the vilest of the vile, according to the\n   dispensations of his eternal grace and mercy.  Oh, how amiable, how\n   lovely does this make that God of love appear to poor sinners, that\n   can view him as such!  How is the soul delighted with such a\n   contemplation!  They that have much forgiven, how much they love!\n\n   \"These thoughts have been much on my mind since the death of ---.  I\n   trust the Lord will pardon me for neglect.  I thought it was my duty\n   to speak or write to him: you remember what I said to you respecting\n   it.  But I still delayed till a more convenient season.  Oh, how I was\n   struck when I heard the Lord had taken him so suddenly!  I was filled\n   with sorrow and shame for having neglected what I had so often\n   resolved to do.  But now the time of speaking for God to him was over.\n   Hence we see that the Lord's time is the best time.  Now the night of\n   death was come upon him; no more work was to be done.  If I had done\n   all that lay in my power to proclaim reconciliation by Christ to his\n   soul, whether he had heard or no, I should have been clear of his\n   blood.  But I cannot recall the time that is past, nor him from the\n   grave.  Had I known the Lord would have called him so suddenly, how\n   diligent I should have been to warn him of his danger!  But it is\n   enough that God shows us what _we_ are to do, and not what _he_ is\n   about to do with us or any of his creatures.  Pray, sir, do all you\n   can for the glory of God.  The time will soon pass by, and then we\n   shall enter that glorious rest that he hath prepared for them that\n   love him.  I pray God to fill you with that zeal and love which he\n   only can inspire, that you may daily win souls to Christ.  May he\n   deliver you from all slavish fear of man, and give you boldness, as he\n   did of old those that were filled with the Holy Ghost and with power!\n\n   \"Remember, Christ has promised to be with all his faithful ministers\n   to the end of time.  The greater dangers and difficulties they are\n   exposed to, the more powerful his assistance.  Then, sir, let us fear\n   none but him.  I hope you will pray much for me, a poor sinner, that\n   God will perfect his strength in my weakness of body and mind; for\n   without him I can do nothing.  But when I can experience the teaching\n   of that Holy One, I need no other teacher.  May the Lord anoint you\n   with the same, and give you every grace of his Holy Spirit, that you\n   may be filled with all the fulness of God; that you may know what is\n   the height and depth, the length and breadth, of the love of God in\n   Christ Jesus; that you may be in the hand of the Lord as a keen archer\n   to draw the bow, while the Lord directs and fastens the arrows of\n   conviction in the hearts of such as are under your ministry!\n\n   \"I sincerely pray that you may be made a blessing to him that has\n   taken the place of the deceased.  I have heard that you are fellow-\n   countrymen: I hope you are, however, both as strangers in this world,\n   that have no abiding place, but seek a country out of sight.\n\n   \"Pray excuse all faults.\n\n   \"From your humble servant in the bonds of the gospel of Christ,\n\n   \"E--- W---.\"\n\nWhen I perused this and other letters, which were at different times\nwritten to me by the Dairyman's daughter, I felt that in the person of\nthis interesting correspondent were singularly united the characters of a\nhumble disciple and a faithful monitor.  I wished to acknowledge the\ngoodness of God in each of these her capacities.\n\nI sometimes entertain a hope that the last day will unfold the value of\nthese epistolary communications, beyond even any present estimate of\ntheir spiritual importance.\n\n\n\nPART IV.\n\n\nThe translation of sinners \"from the power of darkness into the kingdom\nof God's dear Son,\" is the joy of Christians and the admiration of\nangels.  Every penitent and pardoned soul is a new witness to the\ntriumphs of the Redeemer over sin, death, and the grave.  How great the\nchange that is wrought!  The child of wrath becomes a monument of grace--a\nbrand plucked from the burning!  \"If any man be in Christ he is a new\ncreature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.\"\nHow marvellous, how interesting, is the spiritual history of each\nindividual believer!  He is, like David, \"a wonder to many,\" but the\ngreatest wonder of all to himself.  Others may doubt whether it be so or\nnot; but to _him_ it is unequivocally proved, that, from first to last,\ngrace alone reigns in the work of his salvation.\n\nThe character and privileges of real Christians are beautifully described\nin the language of our church; which, when speaking of the objects of\ndivine favour and compassion, says: \"They that be endued with so\nexcellent a benefit of God, be called according to God's purpose in due\nseason: they through grace obey the calling: they be justified freely:\nthey be made sons of God by adoption: they be made like the image of his\nonly begotten Son, Jesus Christ: they walk religiously in good works; and\nat length, by God's mercy, they attain to everlasting felicity.\"\n\nSuch a conception and display of the almighty wisdom, power, and love, is\nindeed \"full of sweet, pleasant, and unspeakable comfort to godly\npersons, and such as feel in themselves the working of the Spirit of\nChrist mortifying the works of the flesh and their earthly members, and\ndrawing up their minds to high and heavenly things: it doth greatly\nestablish and confirm their faith of eternal salvation, to be enjoyed\nthrough Christ, and doth fervently kindle their love towards God.\"\n\nNearly allied to the consolation of a good hope through grace, as it\nrespects our own personal state before God, is that of seeing its\nevidences shed lustre over the disposition and conduct of others.  Bright\nwas the exhibition of the union between true Christian enjoyment and\nChristian exertion, in the character whose moral and spiritual features I\nam attempting to delineate.\n\nIt seemed to be the first wish of her heart to prove to others, what God\nhad already proved to her, that Jesus is \"the way, and the truth, and the\nlife.\"  She desired to evince the reality of her calling, justification,\nand adoption into the family of God, by showing a conformity to the image\nof Christ, and by walking \"religiously in good works:\" she trusted that,\nin this path of faith and obedience, she should \"at length, by God's\nmercy, attain to everlasting felicity.\"\n\nI had the spiritual charge of another parish, adjoining to that in which\nI resided.  It was a small district, and had but few inhabitants.  The\nchurch was pleasantly situated on a rising bank, at the foot of a\nconsiderable hill.  It was surrounded by trees, and had a rural, retired\nappearance.  Close to the church-yard stood a large old mansion, which\nhad formerly been the residence of an opulent and titled family; but it\nhad long since been appropriated to the use of the estate as a\nfarm-house.  Its outward aspect bore considerable remains of ancient\ngrandeur, and gave a pleasing character to the spot of ground on which\nthe church stood.\n\nIn every direction the roads that led to this house of God possessed\ndistinct but interesting features.  One of them ascended between several\nrural cottages, from the sea-shore, which adjoined the lower part of the\nvillage street.  Another winded round the curved sides of the adjacent\nhill, and was adorned, both above and below, with numerous sheep, feeding\non the herbage of the down.  A third road led to the church by a gently\nrising approach between high banks, covered with young trees, bushes,\nivy, hedge-plants, and wild flowers.\n\nFrom a point of land which commanded a view of all these several avenues,\nI used sometimes for a while to watch my congregation gradually\nassembling together at the hour of Sabbath worship.  They were in some\ndirections visible for a considerable distance.  Gratifying associations\nof thought would form in my mind, as I contemplated their approach, and\nsuccessive arrival, within the precincts of the house of prayer.\n\nOne day as I was thus occupied, during a short interval previous to the\nhour of divine service, I reflected on the joy which David experienced at\nthe time he exclaimed: \"I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into\nthe house of the Lord.  Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O\nJerusalem.  Jerusalem is builded as a city that is compact together;\nwhither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of\nIsrael, to give thanks unto the name of the Lord.\"\n\nI was led to reflect upon the various blessings connected with the\nestablishment of public worship.  \"How many immortal souls are now\ngathering together to perform the all-important work of prayer and\npraise--to hear the word of God--to feed upon the bread of life!  They\nare leaving their respective dwellings, and will soon be united together\nin the house of prayer.  How beautifully does this represent the effect\nproduced by the voice of the 'Good Shepherd,' calling his sheep from\nevery part of the wilderness into his fold!  As these fields, hills, and\nlanes, are now covered with men, women, and children, in various\ndirections, drawing nearer to each other, and to the object of their\njourney's end; even so, 'many shall come from the east, and from the\nwest, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the\nkingdom of God.'\"\n\nWho can rightly appreciate the value of such hours as these?--hours spent\nin learning the ways of holy pleasantness and the paths of heavenly\npeace--hours devoted to the service of God and of souls; in warning the\nsinner to flee from the wrath to come; in teaching the ignorant how to\nlive and die; in preaching the gospel to the poor; in healing the broken-\nhearted; in declaring \"deliverance to the captives, and recovering of\nsight to the blind.\"--\"Blessed is the people that know the joyful sound:\nthey shall walk, O Lord, in the light of thy countenance.  In thy name\nthey shall rejoice all the day, and in thy righteousness shall they be\nexalted.\"\n\nMy thoughts then pursued a train of reflection on the importance of the\nministerial office, as connected in the purposes of God with the\nsalvation of sinners.  I inwardly prayed that those many individuals whom\nhe had given me to instruct, might not, through my neglect or error, be\nas sheep having no shepherd, nor as the blind led by the blind; but\nrather that I might, in season and out of season, faithfully proclaim the\nsimple and undisguised truths of the gospel, to the glory of God and the\nprosperity of his church.\n\nAt that instant, near the bottom of the enclosed lane which led to the\nchurch-yard, I observed a friend, whom, at such a distance from his home,\nI little expected to meet.  It was the venerable Dairyman.  He came up\nthe ascent, leaning with one hand on his trusty staff, and with the other\non the arm of a younger man, well known to me, who appeared to be much\ngratified in meeting with such a companion by the way.\n\nMy station was on the top of one of the banks which formed the hollow\nroad beneath.  They passed a few yards below me.  I was concealed from\ntheir sight by a projecting tree.  They were talking of the mercies of\nGod, and the unsearchable riches of his grace.  The Dairyman was telling\nhis companion what a blessing the Lord had given him in his daughter.  His\ncountenance brightened as he named her, and called her his precious\nBetsy.\n\nI met them at a stile not many yards beyond, and accompanied them to the\nchurch, which was hard by.\n\n\"Sir,\" said the old man, \"I have brought a letter from my daughter, I\nhope I am in time for divine service.  Seven miles has now become a long\nwalk for me: I grow old and weak.  I am very glad to see you, sir.\"\n\n\"How is your daughter?\"\n\n\"Very poorly indeed, sir,--very poorly.  The doctors say it is a decline.\nI sometimes hope she will get the better of it; but then again I have\nmany fears.  You know, sir, that I have cause to love and prize her.  Oh,\nit would be such a trial! but the Lord knows what is best.  Excuse my\nweakness, sir.\"\n\nHe put a letter into my hand, the perusal of which I reserved till\nafterwards, as the time was nigh for going into church.\n\nThe presence of this aged pilgrim, the peculiar reverence and affection\nwith which he joined in the different parts of the service, excited many\ngratifying thoughts in my mind, such as rather furthered than interrupted\ndevotion.\n\nThe train of reflection in which I had been engaged when I first\ndiscovered him on the road, at intervals recurred powerfully to my\nfeelings, as I viewed that very congregation assembled together in the\nhouse of God, whose steps, in their approach towards it, I had watched\nwith prayerful emotions.\n\n\"Here the rich and poor meet together in mutual acknowledgment that the\nLord is the maker of them all; and that all are alike dependent\ncreatures, looking up to one common Father to supply their wants, both\ntemporal and spiritual.\n\n\"Again, likewise, will they meet together in the grave, that\nundistinguished receptacle of the opulent and the needy.\n\n\"And once more, at the judgment-seat of Christ shall the rich and the\npoor meet together, that 'every one may receive the things done in his\nbody, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.'\n\n\"How closely connected in the history of man are these three periods of a\ngeneral meeting together?\n\n\"The house of prayer--the house appointed for all living--and the house\nnot made with hands, eternal in the heavens.  May we never separate these\nideas from each other, but retain them in a sacred and profitable union!\nSo shall our worshipping assemblies on earth be representative of the\ngeneral assembly and church of the first-born, which are written in\nheaven.\"\n\nWhen the congregation dispersed, I entered into discourse with the\nDairyman and a few of the poor of my flock, whose minds were of the like\ndisposition to his own.  He seldom could speak long together without some\nreference to his dear child.  He loved to tell how merciful his God had\nbeen to him, in the dutiful and affectionate attentions of his daughter.\nAll real Christians feel a tender spiritual attachment towards those who\nhave been the instrument of bringing them to an effectual knowledge of\nthe way of salvation; but when that instrument is one so nearly allied,\nhow dear does the relationship become!\n\nIf my friend the Dairyman was in any danger of falling into idolatry, his\nchild would have been the idol of his affections.  She was the prop and\nstay of her parents' declining years, and they scarcely knew how\nsufficiently to testify the gratitude of their hearts for the comfort and\nblessing which she was the means of affording them.\n\nWhile he was relating several particulars of his family history to the\nothers, I opened and read the following letter:--\n\n   \"SIR,\n\n   \"Once more I take the liberty to trouble you with a few lines.  I\n   received your letter with great pleasure, and thank you for it.  I am\n   now so weak that I am unable to walk to any public place of divine\n   worship,--a privilege which has heretofore always so much strengthened\n   and refreshed me.  I used to go in anxious expectation to meet my God,\n   and hold sweet communion with him; and I was seldom disappointed.  In\n   the means of grace all the channels of divine mercy are open to every\n   heart that is lifted up to receive out of that divine fulness grace\n   for grace.  These are the times of refreshing from the presence of the\n   Lord.  How have I rejoiced to hear a faithful and lively messenger,\n   just come, as it were, from communion with God at the throne of grace,\n   with his heart warmed and filled with divine love, to speak to fallen\n   sinners!  Such a one has seemed to me as if his face shone as that of\n   Moses did with the glory of God, when he came down from the mount,\n   where he had been within the veil.  May you, sir, imitate him, as he\n   did Christ, that all may see and know that the Lord dwelleth with you,\n   and that you dwell in him through the unity of the blessed Spirit.  I\n   trust you are no stranger to his divine teaching, aid, and assistance,\n   in all you set your hand to do for the glory of God.\n\n   \"I hope, sir, the sincerity of my wishes for your spiritual welfare\n   will plead an excuse for the freedom of my address to you.  I pray the\n   Giver of every perfect gift, that you may experience the mighty\n   workings of his gracious Spirit in your heart and your ministry, and\n   rest your all on the justifying and purifying blood of an expired\n   Redeemer.  Then will you triumph in his strength, and be enabled to\n   say with the poet,--\n\n   'Shall I, through fear of feeble man,\n   The Spirit's course strive to restrain;\n   Or, undismayed in deed and word,\n   Be a true witness for my Lord?\n\n   Awed by a mortal's frown shall I\n   Conceal the word of God most high?\n   How then before thee shall I dare\n   To stand, or how thine anger bear?\n\n   Shall I, to soothe the unholy throng,\n   Soften thy truths and smooth my tongue,\n   To gain earth's gilded toys, or flee\n   The cross endured, my God, by thee?\n\n   What then is he whose scorn I dread.\n   Whose wrath or hate makes me afraid?\n   A man? an heir of death? a slave\n   To sin? a bubble on the wave?\n\n   Yea, let men rage, since thou wilt spread\n   Thy shadowing wings around my head:\n   Since in all pain thy tender love\n   Will still my sure refreshment prove.\n\n   Still shall the love of Christ restrain\n   To seek the wand'ring souls of men,\n   With cries, entreaties, tears to save,\n   And snatch them from the yawning grave.\n\n   For this let men revile my name,--\n   No cross I shun, I fear no shame:\n   All hail reproach, and welcome pain;\n   Only thy terrors, Lord, restrain.'\n\n   \"I trust, sir, that you see what a glorious high calling yours is, and\n   that you are one of those who walk humbly with God, that you may be\n   taught of him in all things.  Persons in your place are messengers of\n   the most high God.  Is it too much to say, they should live like the\n   angels in all holiness, and be filled with love and zeal for men's\n   souls?  They are ambassadors, in Christ's stead, to persuade sinners\n   to be reconciled to God.  So that your calling is above that of\n   angels: for they are _afterwards_ to minister to the heirs of\n   salvation; but the sinner must be _first_ reconciled to God.  And you\n   are called on from day to day to intercede with man as his friend,\n   that you may win souls to Christ.  Christ is ascended up on high, to\n   intercede with his Father for guilty sinners, and to plead for them\n   the merits of his death.  So that Christ and his faithful ministers,\n   through the operation of the blessed Spirit, are co-workers together.\n   Yet without him we can do nothing: our strength is his strength, and\n   his is all the glory from first to last.\n\n   \"It is my heart's prayer and desire, sir, that you may, by a living\n   faith, cleave close to that blessed, exalted Lamb of God, who died to\n   redeem us from sin--that you may have a sweet communion with Father,\n   Son, and Spirit--that you may sink deep in humble love, and rise high\n   in the life of God.  Thus will you have such discoveries of the\n   beauties of Christ and his eternal glory as will fill your heart with\n   true delight.\n\n   \"If I am not deceived, I wish myself to enjoy his gracious favour,\n   more than all the treasures which earth can afford.  I would in\n   comparison look upon them with holy disdain, and as not worth an\n   anxious thought, that they may not have power on my heart to draw or\n   attract it from God, who is worthy of my highest esteem, and of all my\n   affections.  It should be our endeavour to set him always before us,\n   that in all things we may act as in his immediate presence; that we\n   may be filled with that holy fear, so that we may not dare wilfully to\n   sin against him.  We should earnestly entreat the Lord to mortify the\n   power and working of sin and unbelief within us, by making Christ\n   appear more and more precious in our eyes, and more dear to our\n   hearts.\n\n   \"It fills my heart with thankful recollections, while I attempt in\n   this weak manner to speak of God's love to man.  When I reflect on my\n   past sins and his past mercies, I am assured, that if I had all the\n   gifts of wise men and angels, I could never sufficiently describe my\n   own inward sense of his undeserved love towards me.  We can better\n   enjoy these glorious apprehensions in our hearts than explain them to\n   others.  But, oh, how unworthy of them are we all!  Consciousness of\n   my own corruptions keeps me often low; yet faith and desire will\n   easily mount on high, beseeching God that he would, according to the\n   apostle's prayer, fill me with all his communicable fulness, in the\n   gifts and graces of his Spirit; that I may walk well-pleasing before\n   him, in all holy conversation, perfecting holiness in his fear.\n\n   \"If I err in boldness, sir, pray pardon me, and in your next letter\n   confirm my hope that you will be my counsellor and guide.\n\n   \"I can only recompense your kindness to me by my prayers, that your\n   own intercourse with God may be abundantly blessed to you and yours.  I\n   consider the Saviour saying to you, as he did to Peter, 'Lovest thou\n   me?'  And may your heartfelt experience be compelled to reply, 'Thou\n   knowest all things, and thou knowest that I love thee' supremely!  May\n   he have evident marks of it in all your outward actions of love and\n   humanity in feeding his flock, and in the inward fervour and affection\n   of all your consecrated powers: that you may be zealously engaged in\n   pulling down the strongholds of sin and Satan, and building up his\n   Church; sowing the seeds of righteousness, and praying God to give the\n   increase: that you may not labour for him in vain, but may see the\n   trees bud and blossom, and bring forth fruit abundantly, to the praise\n   and glory of your heavenly Master.  In order to give you\n   encouragement, he says, whosoever 'converteth a sinner from the error\n   of his way shall save a soul from death;' and that will increase the\n   brightness of your crown in glory.  This hath Christ merited for his\n   faithful ministers.\n\n   \"I hope, sir, you will receive grace to be sincere in reproving sin,\n   wherever you see it.  You will find divine assistance, and all fear\n   and shame taken from you.  Great peace will be given to you, and\n   wisdom, strength, and courage, according to your work.  You will be as\n   Paul; having much learning, you can speak to men in all stations in\n   life, by God's assistance.  The fear of offending them will never\n   prevent you, when you consider the glory of God; and man's immortal\n   soul is of more value than his present favour and esteem.  In\n   particular, you are in an office wherein you can visit _all_ the sick.\n   Man's extremity is often God's opportunity.  In this way you may prove\n   an instrument in his hand to do his work.  Although he _can_ work\n   without means, yet his usual way is by means; and I trust you are a\n   chosen vessel unto him, to prove his name and declare his truth to all\n   men.\n\n   \"Visiting the sick is a strict command, and a duty for every\n   Christian.  None can tell what good may be done.  I wish it was never\n   neglected, as it too often is.  Many think that if they attend in the\n   church, the minister to preach, and the people to hear, their duty is\n   done.  But more is required than this.  May the Lord stir up the gift\n   that is in his people and ministers, that they may have compassion on\n   their fellow-sinners,--that they may never think it too late, but\n   remember that while there is life there is hope!\"  Once more I pray,\n   sir, pardon and excuse all my errors in judgment, and the ignorance\n   that this is penned in; and may God bless you in all things, and\n   particularly your friendship to me and my parents.  What a comfort is\n   family religion!  I do not doubt but this is your desire, as it is\n   mine, to say,--\n\n   'I and my house will serve the Lord,\n   But first obedient to his word\n      I must myself appear;\n   By actions, words, and tempers show\n   That I my heavenly Master know,\n      And serve with heart sincere.\n\n   I must the fair example set;\n   From those that on my pleasure wait\n      The stumbling-block remove;\n   Their duty by my life explain,\n   And still in all my works maintain\n      The dignity of love.\n\n   Easy to be entreated, mild,\n   Quickly appeased and reconciled,\n      A follower of my God:\n   A saint indeed I long to be,\n   And lead my faithful family\n      In the celestial road.\n\n   Lord, if thou dost the wish infuse,\n   A vessel fitted for thy use\n      Into thy hands receive:\n   Work in me both to will and do,\n   And show them how believers true\n      And real Christians live.\n\n   With all sufficient grace supply,\n   And then I'll come to testify\n      The wonders of thy name,\n   Which saves from sin, the world, and hell:\n   Its power may every sinner feel,\n      And every tongue proclaim!\n\n   Cleansed by the blood of Christ from sin,\n   I seek my relatives to win,\n      And preach their sins forgiven;\n   Children, and wife, and servants seize,\n   And through the paths of pleasantness\n      Conduct them all to heaven.'\n\n   \"Living so much in a solitary way, books are my companions; and poetry\n   which speaks of the love of God and the mercies of Christ is very\n   sweet to my mind.  This must be my excuse for troubling you to read\n   verses which others have written.  I have intended, if my declining\n   state of health permit, to go to --- for a few days.  I say this lest\n   you should call in expectation of seeing me during any part of next\n   week.  But my dear father and mother, for whose precious souls I am\n   very anxious, will reap the benefit of your visit at all events.\n\n   \"From your humble and unworthy servant,\n\n   \"E--- W---.\"\n\nHaving read it, I said to the father of my highly valued correspondent,--\n\n\"I thank you for being the bearer of this letter.  Your daughter is a\nkind friend and faithful counsellor to me, as well as to you.  Tell her\nhow highly I esteem her friendship, and that I feel truly obliged for the\nmany excellent sentiments which she has here expressed.  Give her my\nblessing, and assure her that the oftener she writes the more thankful I\nshall be.\"\n\nThe Dairyman's enlivened eye gleamed with pleasure as I spoke.  The\npraise of his Elizabeth was a string which could not be touched without\ncausing every nerve of his whole frame to vibrate.\n\nHis voice half faltered as he spoke in reply; the tear started in his\neyes; his hand trembled as I pressed it; his heart was full; he could\nonly say,--\n\n\"Sir, a poor old man thanks you for your kindness to him and his family.\nGod bless you, sir; I hope we shall soon see you again.\"\n\nThus we parted for that day.\n\n\n\nPART V.\n\n\nIt has not unfrequently been observed, that when it is the Lord's\npleasure to remove any of his faithful followers out of this life at an\nearly period of their course, they make rapid progress in the experience\nof divine truth.  The fruits of the Spirit ripen fast as they advance to\nthe close of mortal existence.  In particular, they grow in humility,\nthrough a deeper sense of inward corruption and a clearer view of the\nperfect character of the Saviour.  Disease and bodily weakness make the\nthoughts of eternity recur with frequency and power.  The great question\nof their own personal salvation, the quality of their faith, the\nsincerity of their love, and the purity of their hope, are in continual\nexercise.\n\nUnseen realities at such a time occupy a larger portion of thought than\nbefore.  The state of existence beyond the grave, the invisible world,\nthe unalterable character of the dead, the future judgment, the total\nseparation from everything earthly, the dissolution of body and spirit,\nand their re-union at the solemn hour of resurrection--these are subjects\nfor their meditation, which call for serious earnestness of soul.\nWhatever consolations from the Spirit of God they may have enjoyed\nheretofore, they become now doubly anxious to examine and prove\nthemselves whether they be indeed in the faith.  In doing this, they\nsometimes pass through hidden conflicts of a dark and distressing nature;\nfrom which, however, they come forth like gold tried in the furnace.\nAwhile they may sow in tears, but soon they reap in joy.\n\nTheir religious feelings have then, perhaps, less of ecstasy, but more of\nserenity.\n\nAs the ears of corn ripen for the harvest, they bow their heads nearer to\nthe ground.  So it is with believers: they then see more than ever of\ntheir own imperfection, and often express their sense of it in strong\nlanguage; yet they repose with a growing confidence on the love of God\nthrough Christ Jesus.  The nearer they advance to their eternal rest, the\nmore humble they become, but not the less useful in their sphere.  They\nfeel anxiously desirous of improving every talent they possess to the\nglory of God, knowing that the time is short.\n\nI thought I observed the truth of these remarks fulfilled in the\nprogressive state of mind of the Dairyman's daughter.\n\nDeclining health seemed to indicate the will of God concerning her.  But\nher character, conduct, and experience of the Divine favour, increased in\nbrightness as the setting sun of her mortal life approached its horizon.\nThe last letter which, with the exception of a very short note, I ever\nreceived from her, I shall now transcribe.  It appeared to me to bear the\nmarks of a still deeper acquaintance with the workings of her own heart,\nand a more entire reliance upon the free mercy of God.\n\nThe original, while I copy it, strongly revives the image of the\ndeceased, and the many profitable conversations which I once enjoyed in\nher company, and that of her parents.  It again endears to me the\nrecollections of cottage piety, and helps me to anticipate the joys of\nthat day when the spirits of the glorified saints shall be re-united to\ntheir bodies, and be for ever with the Lord.\n\nThe writer of this and the preceding letters herself little imagined,\nwhen they were penned, that they would ever be submitted to the public\neye; that they now are so, results from a conviction that the friends of\nthe pious poor will estimate them according to their value; and a hope\nthat it may please God to honour these memorials of the dead, to the\neffectual edification of the living.\n\n   \"REV. SIR,\n\n   \"In consequence of your kind permission, I take the liberty to trouble\n   you with another of my ill-written letters; and I trust you have too\n   much of your blessed Master's lowly, meek, and humble mind, to be\n   offended with a poor, simple, ignorant creature, whose intentions are\n   pure and sincere in writing.  My desire is, that I, a weak vessel of\n   his grace, may glorify his name for his goodness towards me.  May the\n   Lord direct me by his counsel and wisdom!  May he overshadow me with\n   his presence, that I may sit beneath the banner of his love, and find\n   the consolations of his blessed Spirit sweet and refreshing to my\n   soul.\n\n   \"When I feel that I am nothing, and God is all in all, then I can\n   willingly fly to him, saying, 'Lord, help me; Lord, teach me; be unto\n   me my prophet, priest, and king.  Let me know the teaching of thy\n   grace, and the disclosing of thy love.'  What nearness of access might\n   we have, if we lived more near to God!  What sweet communion might we\n   have with a God of love!  He is the great I AM.  How glorious a name!\n   Angels with trembling awe prostrate themselves before him, and in\n   humble love adore and worship him.  One says--\n\n   'While the first archangel sings,\n   He hides his face behind his wings.'\n\n   Unworthy as I am, I have found it by experience that the more I see of\n   the greatness and goodness of God, and the nearer union I hope I have\n   had with him through the Spirit of his love, the more humble and self-\n   abased I have been.\n\n   \"But every day I may say, 'Lord, how little I love thee, how far I\n   live from thee, how little am I like thee in humility!'  It is,\n   nevertheless, my heart's desire to love and serve him better.  I find\n   the way in which God does more particularly bless me, is when I attend\n   on the public ordinances of religion.  These are the channels through\n   which he conveys the riches of his grace and precious love to my soul.\n   These I have often found to be indeed the time of refreshing and\n   strengthening from the presence of the Lord.  Then I can see my hope\n   of an interest in the covenant of his love, and praise him for his\n   mercy to the greatest of sinners.\n\n   \"I earnestly wish to be more established in his ways, and to honour\n   him in the path of duty, whilst I enjoy the smiles of his favour.  In\n   the midst of all outward afflictions I pray that I may know Christ and\n   the power of his resurrection within my soul.  If I were always thus,\n   my summer would last all the year; my will would then be sweetly lost\n   in God's will, and I should feel a resignation in every dispensation\n   of his providence and his grace, saying, 'Good is the will of the\n   Lord: Infinite Wisdom cannot err.'  Then would patience have its\n   perfect work.\n\n   \"But, alas! sin and unbelief often, too often, interrupt these frames,\n   and lay me low before God in tears of sorrow.  I often think what a\n   happiness it would be if his love were so fixed in my heart that I\n   might willingly obey him with alacrity and delight, and gradually\n   mortify the power of self-will, passion, and pride.  This can only\n   arise from a good hope through grace that we are washed in that\n   precious blood which cleanses us from every sinful stain, and makes us\n   new creatures in Christ.  Oh that we may be the happy witnesses of the\n   saving power and virtue of that healing stream which flows from the\n   fountain of everlasting love!\n\n   \"Sir, my faith is often exceedingly weak: can you be so kind as to\n   tell me what you have found to be the most effectual means of\n   strengthening it?  I often think how plainly the Lord declares,\n   'Believe only, and thou shalt be saved.  Only have faith; all things\n   are possible to him that has it.'  How I wish that we could remove all\n   those mountains that hinder and obstruct the light of his grace; so\n   that, having full access unto God through that ever-blessed Spirit, we\n   might lovingly commune with him as with the dearest of friends.  What\n   favour does God bestow on worms!  And yet we love to murmur and\n   complain.  He may well say, 'What should I have done more, that I have\n   not done? or wherein have I proved unfaithful or unkind to my\n   faithless, backsliding children?'\n\n   \"Sir, I pray that I may not grieve him, as I have done, any more.  I\n   want your counsel and your prayers for me in this matter.  How\n   refreshing is the sight of one that truly loves God, that bears his\n   image and likeness!\n\n   \"But delightful as is conversation with true believers on earth, whose\n   hearts are lifted up to things above, yet what is this to that happy\n   day which will admit us into more bright realms; where we shall for\n   ever behold a God of love in the smiling face of his Son, who is the\n   express image of his Father and the brightness of his glory!  Then, if\n   found in him, we shall be received by the innumerable host of angels\n   who wait around his throne.\n\n   \"In the meantime, sir, may I take up my cross, and manfully fight\n   under Him who, for the glory that was set before him, endured the\n   cross, despising the shame, and is now set down at his Father's right\n   hand in majesty.  I thank you for the kind liberty you have given me\n   of writing to you.  I feel my health declining, and I find a relief,\n   during an hour of pain and weakness, in communicating these thoughts\n   to you.\n\n   \"I hope, sir, you go on your way rejoicing; that you are enabled to\n   thank Him who is the giver of every good gift, spiritual, temporal,\n   and providential, for blessings to yourself and your ministry.  I do\n   not doubt but you often meet with circumstances which are not pleasing\n   to nature; yet, by the blessing of God, they will be all profitable in\n   the end.  They are kindly designed by grace to make and keep us\n   humble.  The difficulties which you spoke of to me some time since\n   will, I trust, disappear.\n\n   \"My dear father and mother are as well as usual in bodily health; and,\n   I hope, grow in grace, and in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ.\n   My chief desire to live is for their sakes.  It now seems long since\n   we have seen you.  I am almost ashamed to request you to come to our\n   little cottage, to visit those who are so much below your station in\n   life.  But if you cannot come, we shall be very glad if you will write\n   a few lines.  I ought to make an excuse for my letter, I spell so\n   badly: this was a great neglect when I was young.  I gave myself\n   greatly to reading, but not to the other, and now I am too weak and\n   feeble to learn much.\n\n   \"I hear sometimes of persons growing serious in your congregation: it\n   gives me joy; and, if true, I am sure it does so to yourself.  I long\n   for the pure gospel of Christ to be preached in every church in the\n   world, and for the time when all shall know, love, and fear the Lord;\n   and the uniting Spirit of God shall make them of one heart and mind in\n   Christ our great head.  Your greatest joy, I know, will be in\n   labouring much for the glory of God in the salvation of men's souls.\n   You serve a good Master.  You have a sure reward.  I pray God to give\n   you strength according to your day.\n\n   \"Pray, sir, do not be offended at the freedom and manner of my\n   writing.  My parents' duty and love to you are sent with these lines\n   from\n\n   \"Your humble servant in Christ,\n\n   \"E--- W---.\"\n\nEpistolary communications, when written in sincerity of heart, afford\ngenuine portraits of the mind.  May the foregoing be viewed with\nChristian candour, and consecrated to affectionate memory!\n\n\n\nPART VI.\n\n\nTravellers, as they pass through the country, usually stop to inquire\nwhose are the splendid mansions which they discover among the woods and\nplains around them.  The families, titles, fortune, or character of the\nrespective owners, engage much attention.  Perhaps their houses are\nexhibited to the admiring stranger.  The elegant rooms, costly furniture,\nvaluable paintings, beautiful gardens and shrubberies, are universally\napproved; while the rank, fashion, taste, and riches of the possessor,\nafford ample materials for entertaining discussion.  In the meantime, the\nlowly cottage of the poor husbandman is passed by as scarcely deserving\nof notice.  Yet, perchance, such a cottage may often contain a treasure\nof infinitely more value than the sumptuous palace of the rich man--even\n\"the pearl of great price.\"  If this be set in the heart of the poor\ncottager, it proves a gem of unspeakable worth, and will shine among the\nbrightest ornaments of the Redeemer's crown, in that day when he maketh\nup his \"jewels.\"\n\nHence the Christian traveller, while in common with others he bestows his\ndue share of applause on the decorations of the rich, and is not\ninsensible to the beauties and magnificence which are the lawfully\nallowed appendages of rank and fortune, cannot overlook the humbler\ndwelling of the poor.  And if he should find that true piety and grace\nbeneath the thatched roof which he has in vain looked for amidst the\nworldly grandeur of the rich, he remembers the declarations in the word\nof God.  He sees with admiration that the high and lofty One, that\ninhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, who dwelleth in the high and\nholy place, dwelleth with _him also_ that is of a contrite and humble\nspirit (Isa. lvii. 15); and although heaven is his throne, and the earth\nhis footstool, yet, when a house is to be built and a place of rest to be\nsought for himself, he says, \"To this man will I look, even to him that\nis poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word\" (Isa. lxvi.\n2).\n\nWhen a house is thus tenanted, Faith beholds this inscription written on\nthe walls, _The Lord lives here_.  Faith, therefore, cannot pass it by\nunnoticed, but loves to lift up the latch of the door, and to sit down\nand converse with the poor, although perhaps despised, inhabitant.  Many\na sweet interview does Faith obtain, when she thus takes her walks\nabroad.  Many such a sweet interview have I myself enjoyed beneath the\nroof where dwelt the Dairyman and his little family.\n\nI soon perceived that his daughter's health was rapidly on the decline.\nThe pale, wasting consumption, which is the Lord's instrument for\nremoving so many thousands every year from the land of the living made\nhasty strides on her constitution.  The hollow eye, the distressing\ncough, and the often too flattering flush on the cheek, foretold the\napproach of death.\n\nWhat a field for usefulness and affectionate attention, on the part of\nministers and Christian friends, is opened by the frequent attacks and\nlingering process of _consumptive_ illness!  How many such precious\nopportunities are daily lost, where Providence seems in so marked a way\nto afford time and space for serious and godly instruction!  Of how many\nmay it be said, \"The way of peace have they not known!\" for not one\nfriend ever came nigh, to warn them to \"flee from the wrath to come.\"\n\nBut the Dairyman's daughter was happily made acquainted with the things\nwhich belonged to her everlasting peace, before the present disease had\ntaken root in her constitution.  In my visits to her, I went rather to\nreceive information than to impart it.  Her mind was abundantly stored\nwith divine truths, and her conversation was truly edifying.  The\nrecollection of it will ever produce a thankful sensation in my heart.\n\nI one day received a short note to the following effect:--\n\n   \"DEAR SIR,\n\n   \"I should be very glad, if your convenience will allow, that you will\n   come and see a poor unworthy sinner.  My hour-glass is nearly run out,\n   but I hope I can see Christ to be precious to my soul.  Your\n   conversation has often been blessed to me, and I now feel the need of\n   it more than ever.  My father and mother send their duty to you.  From\n\n   \"Your obedient and unworthy servant,\n\n   \"E--- W---.\"\n\nI obeyed the summons that same afternoon.  On my arrival at the\nDairyman's cottage, his wife opened the door.  The tears streamed down\nher cheek, as she silently shook her head.  Her heart was full.  She\ntried to speak, but could not.  I took her by the hand, and said--\n\n\"My good friend, all is right, and as the Lord of wisdom and mercy\ndirects.\"\n\n\"Oh, my Betsy, my dear girl, is so bad, sir.  What shall I do without\nher?  I thought I should have gone first to the grave; but--\"\n\n\"But the Lord sees good that, before you die yourself you should behold\nyour child safe home to glory.  Is there no mercy in this?\"\n\n\"Oh, dear sir!  I am very old and very weak; and she is a dear child, the\nstaff and prop of a poor old creature as I am.\"\n\nAs I advanced, I saw Elizabeth sitting by the fireside, supported in an\narm-chair by pillows, with every mark of rapid decline and approaching\ndeath.  A sweet smile of friendly complacency enlightened her pale\ncountenance, as she said--\n\n\"This is very kind indeed, sir, to come so soon after I sent to you.  You\nfind me daily wasting away, and I cannot have long to continue here.  My\nflesh and my heart fail; but God is the strength of my weak heart, and I\ntrust will be my portion for ever.\"\n\nThe conversation was occasionally interrupted by her cough and want of\nbreath.  Her tone of voice was clear, though feeble; her manner solemn\nand collected; and her eye, though more dim than formerly, by no means\nwanting in liveliness as she spoke.  I had frequently admired the\nsuperior language in which she expressed her ideas, as well as the\nscriptural consistency with which she communicated her thoughts.  She had\na good natural understanding, and grace, as is generally the case, had\nmuch improved it.  On the present occasion I could not help thinking she\nwas peculiarly favoured.  The whole strength of gracious and natural\nattainments seemed to be in full exercise.\n\nAfter taking my seat between the daughter and the mother (the latter\nfixing her fond eyes upon her child with great anxiety while we were\nconversing), I said to Elizabeth--\n\n\"I hope you enjoy a sense of the divine presence, and can rest all upon\nHim who has 'been with thee,' and has 'kept thee in all places where thou\nhast gone,' and will bring thee into 'the land of pure delight, where\nsaints immortal reign.'\"\n\n\"Sir, I think I can.  My mind has lately been sometimes clouded, but I\nbelieve it has been partly owing to the great weakness and suffering of\nmy bodily frame, and partly to the envy of my spiritual enemy, who wants\nto persuade me that Christ has no love for me, and that I have been a\nself-deceiver.\"\n\n\"And do you give way to his suggestions?  Can you doubt, amidst such\nnumerous tokens of past and present mercy?\"\n\n\"No, sir, I mostly am enabled to preserve a clear evidence of his love.  I\ndo not wish to add to my other sins that of denying his manifest goodness\nto my soul--I would acknowledge it to his praise and glory.\"\n\n\"What is your present view of the state in which you were before you felt\nseriously concerned about the salvation of your soul?\"\n\n\"Sir, I was a proud, thoughtless girl; fond of dress and finery.  I loved\nthe world, and the things that are in the world.  I lived in service\namong worldly people, and never had the happiness of being in a family\nwhere worship was regarded, and the souls of the servants cared for,\neither by master or mistress.  I went once on a Sunday to church, more to\nsee and be seen than to pray or hear the word of God.  I thought I was\nquite good enough to be saved, and disliked, and often laughed at,\nreligious people.  I was in great darkness; I knew nothing of the way of\nsalvation.  I never prayed, nor was sensible of the awful danger of a\nprayerless state.  I wished to maintain the character of a good servant,\nand was much lifted up whenever I met with applause.  I was tolerably\nmoral and decent in my conduct, from motives of carnal and worldly\npolicy; but I was a stranger to God and Christ.  I neglected my soul; and\nhad I died in such a state, hell must, and would justly, have been my\nportion.\"\n\n\"How long is it since you heard the sermon which, you hope, through God's\nblessing, effected your conversion?\"\n\n\"About five years ago.\"\n\n\"How was it brought about?\"\n\n\"It was reported that a Mr. ---, who was detained by contrary winds from\nembarking on board ship as chaplain to a distant part of the world, was\nto preach at church.  Many advised me not to go, for fear he should turn\nmy head, as they said he held strange notions.  But curiosity, and an\nopportunity of appearing in a new gown, which I was very proud of,\ninduced me to ask leave of my mistress to go.  Indeed, sir, I had no\nbetter motives than vanity and curiosity.  Yet thus it pleased the Lord\nto order it for his own glory.\n\n\"I accordingly went to church, and saw a great crowd of people collected\ntogether.  I often think of the contrary states of my mind during the\nformer and latter part of the service.  For a while, regardless of the\nworship of God, I looked around me, and was anxious to attract notice\nmyself.  My dress, like that of too many gay, vain, and silly servant\ngirls, was much above my station, and very different from that which\nbecomes an humble sinner, who has a modest sense of propriety and\ndecency.  The state of my mind was visible enough from the foolish finery\nof my apparel.\n\n\"At length the clergyman gave out his text: 'Be ye clothed with\nhumility.'  He drew a comparison between the clothing of the body with\nthat of the soul.  At a very early part of his discourse I began to feel\nashamed of my passion for fine dressing and apparel; but when he came to\ndescribe the garment of salvation with which a Christian is clothed, I\nfelt a powerful discovery of the nakedness of my own soul.  I saw that I\nhad neither the humility mentioned in the text, nor any one part of the\ntrue Christian character.  I looked at my gay dress, and blushed for\nshame on account of my pride.  I looked at the minister, and he seemed to\nme as a messenger sent from heaven to open my eyes.  I looked at the\ncongregation, and wondered whether any one else felt as I did.  I looked\nat my heart, and it appeared full of iniquity.  I trembled as he spoke,\nand yet I felt a great drawing of heart to the words he uttered.\n\n\"He opened the riches of divine grace in God's method of saving the\nsinner.  I was astonished at what I had been doing all the days of my\nlife.  He described the meek, lowly, and humble example of Christ; I felt\nproud, lofty, vain, and self-consequential.  He represented Christ as\n'Wisdom;' I felt my ignorance.  He held him forth as 'Righteousness;' I\nwas convinced of my own guilt.  He proved him to be 'Sanctification;' I\nsaw my corruption.  He proclaimed him as 'Redemption;' I felt my slavery\nto sin and my captivity to Satan.  He concluded with an animated address\nto sinners, in which he exhorted them to flee from the wrath to come, to\ncast off the love of outward ornament, to put on Jesus Christ, and be\nclothed with true humility.\n\n\"From that hour I never lost sight of the value of my soul and the danger\nof a sinful state.  I inwardly blessed God for the sermon, although my\nmind was in a state of great confusion.\n\n\"The preacher had brought forward the ruling passion of my heart, which\nwas pride in outward dress; and by the grace of God it was made\ninstrumental to the awakening of my soul.  Happy, sir, would it be if\nmany a poor girl, like myself, were turned from the love of outward\nadorning and putting on of fine apparel, to seek that which is not\ncorruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in\nthe sight of God of great price.\n\n\"The greatest part of the congregation, unused to such faithful and\nscriptural sermons, disliked and complained of the severity of the\npreacher; while a few, as I afterwards found, like myself, were deeply\naffected, and earnestly wished to hear him again.  But he preached there\nno more.\n\n\"From that time I was led, through a course of private prayer, reading,\nand meditation, to see my lost state as a sinner, and the great mercy of\nGod through Jesus Christ, in raising sinful dust and ashes to a share in\nthe glorious happiness of heaven.  And, O sir! what a Saviour I have\nfound!  He is more than I could ask or desire.  In his fulness I have\nfound all that my poverty could need; in his bosom I have found a resting-\nplace from all sin and sorrow; in his word I have found strength against\ndoubt and unbelief.\"\n\n\"Were you not soon convinced,\" I said, \"that your salvation must be an\nact of entire grace on the part of God, wholly independent of your own\nprevious works or deservings?\"\n\n\"Dear sir, what were my works, before I heard that sermon, but evil,\ncarnal, selfish, and ungodly!  The thoughts of my heart, from my youth\nupward, were only evil, and that continually.  And my deservings, what\nwere they, but the deservings of a fallen, depraved, careless soul, that\nregarded neither law nor gospel!  Yes, sir, I immediately saw that if\never I were saved, it must be by the free mercy of God, and that the\nwhole praise and honour of the work would be his from first to last.\"\n\n\"What change did you perceive in yourself with respect to the world?\"\n\n\"It appeared all vanity and vexation of spirit.  I found it necessary to\nmy peace of mind to come out from among them, and be separate.  I gave\nmyself to prayer; and many a happy hour of secret delight I enjoyed in\ncommunion with God.  Often I mourned over my sins, and sometimes had a\ngreat conflict, through unbelief, fear, temptation to return back again\nto my old ways, and a variety of difficulties which lay in my way.  But\nHe who loved me with an everlasting love drew me by his loving-kindness,\nshowed me the way of peace, gradually strengthened me in my resolutions\nof leading a new life, and taught me, that while without him I could do\nnothing, I yet might do all things through his strength.\"\n\n\"Did you not find many difficulties in your situation, owing to your\nchange of principle and practice?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, every day of my life.  I was laughed at by some, scolded at by\nothers, scorned by enemies, and pitied by friends.  I was called\nhypocrite, saint, false deceiver, and many more names, which were meant\nto render me hateful in the sight of the world.  But I esteemed the\nreproach of the cross an honour.  I forgave and prayed for my\npersecutors, and remembered how very lately I had acted the same part\ntowards others myself.  I thought also that Christ endured the\ncontradiction of sinners; and, as the disciple is not above his Master, I\nwas glad to be in any way conformed to his sufferings.\"\n\n\"Did you not then feel for your family at home?\"\n\n\"Yes, that I did indeed, sir; they were never out of my thoughts.  I\nprayed continually for them, and had a longing desire to do them good.  In\nparticular, I felt for my father and mother, as they were getting into\nyears, and were very ignorant and dark in matters of religion.\"\n\n\"Ay,\" interrupted her mother, sobbing, \"ignorant and dark, sinful and\nmiserable we were, till this dear Betsy--this dear Betsy--this dear\nchild, sir--brought Christ Jesus home to her poor father and mother's\nhouse.\"\n\n\"No, dearest mother, say rather, Christ Jesus brought your poor daughter\nhome to tell you what he had done for her soul, and I hope, to do the\nsame for yours.\"\n\nAt that moment the Dairyman came in with two pails of milk hanging from\nthe yoke on his shoulders.  He had stood behind the half-opened door for\na few minutes, and heard the last sentences spoken by his wife and\ndaughter.\n\n\"Blessing and mercy upon her!\" said he, \"it is very true; she left a good\nplace of service on purpose to live with us, that she might help us both\nin soul and body.  Sir, don't she look very ill?  I think, sir, we\nsha'n't have her here long.\"\n\n\"Leave that to the Lord,\" said Elizabeth.  \"All our times are in his\nhand, and happy it is that they are.  I am willing to go; are you not\nwilling, my father, to part with me into _his_ hands, who gave me to you\nat first?\"\n\n\"Ask me any question in the world but that,\" said the weeping father.\n\n\"I know,\" said she, \"you wish me to be happy.\"\n\n\"I do, I do,\" answered he; \"let the Lord do with you and us as best\npleases him.\"\n\nI then asked her on what her present consolations chiefly depended, in\nthe prospect of approaching death.\n\n\"Entirely, sir, on my view of Christ.  When I look at myself, many sins,\ninfirmities, and imperfections cloud the image of Christ which I want to\nsee in my own heart.  But when I look at the Saviour himself, he is\naltogether lovely; there is not one spot in his countenance, nor one\ncloud over all his perfections.\n\n\"I think of his coming in the flesh, and it reconciles me to the\nsufferings of the body; for he had them as well as I.  I think of his\ntemptations, and believe that he is able to succour me when I am tempted.\nThen I think of his cross, and learn to bear my own.  I reflect on his\ndeath, and long to die unto sin, so that it may no longer have dominion\nover me.  I sometimes think on his resurrection, and trust that he has\ngiven me a part in it, for I feel that my affections are set upon things\nabove.  Chiefly I take comfort in thinking of him as at the right hand of\nthe Father, pleading my cause, and rendering acceptable even my feeble\nprayers, both for myself, and, as I hope, for my dear friends.\n\n\"These are the views which, through mercy, I have of my Saviour's\ngoodness; and they have made me wish and strive in my poor way to serve\nhim, to give myself up to him, and to labour to do my duty in that state\nof life into which it has pleased God to call me.\n\n\"A thousand times I should have fallen and fainted, if he had not upheld\nme.  I feel that I am nothing without him.  He is all in all.\n\n\"Just so far as I can cast my care upon him, I find strength to do his\nwill.  May he give me grace to trust him till the last moment!  I do not\nfear death, because I believe that he has taken away its sting.  And oh!\nwhat happiness beyond!  Tell me, sir, whether you think I am right.  I\nhope I am under no delusion.  I dare not look for my hope in anything\nshort of the entire fulness of Christ.  When I ask my own heart a\nquestion, I am afraid to trust it, for it is treacherous, and has often\ndeceived me; but when I ask Christ, he answers me with promises that\nstrengthen and refresh me, and leave me no room to doubt his power and\nwill to save.  I am in his hands, and would remain there; and I do\nbelieve that he will never leave nor forsake me, but will perfect the\nthing that concerns me.  He loved me and gave himself for me, and I\nbelieve that his gifts and callings are without repentance.  In this hope\nI live, in this hope I wish to die.\"\n\nI looked around me, as she was speaking, and thought, \"Surely this is\nnone other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven.\"  Everything\nappeared neat, cleanly, and interesting.  The afternoon had been rather\novercast with dark clouds; but just now the setting sun shone brightly\nand somewhat suddenly into the room.  It was reflected from three or four\nrows of bright pewter plates and white earthenware, arranged on shelves\nagainst the wall: it also gave brilliancy to a few prints of sacred\nsubjects that hung there also, and served for monitors of the birth,\nbaptism, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ.\n\nA large map of Jerusalem, and a hieroglyphic of \"the old and new man,\"\ncompleted the decorations on that side of the room.  Clean as was the\nwhite-washed wall, it was not cleaner than the rest of the place and its\nfurniture.  Seldom had the sun enlightened a house where order and\ngeneral neatness (those sure attendants of pious poverty) were more\nconspicuous.\n\nThis gleam of setting sunshine was emblematical of the bright and serene\nclose of this young Christian's departing season.  One ray happened to be\nreflected from a little looking-glass upon her face.  Amidst her pallid\nand decaying features there appeared a calm resignation, triumphant\nconfidence, unaffected humility, and tender anxiety, which fully declared\nthe feelings of her heart.\n\nSome further affectionate conversation and a short prayer closed this\ninterview.\n\nAs I rode home by departing daylight, a solemn tranquillity reigned\nthroughout the scene.  The gentle lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep\njust penned in their folds, the humming of the insects of the night, the\ndistant murmurs of the sea, the last notes of the birds of day, and the\nfirst warblings of the nightingale, broke upon the ear, and served rather\nto increase than lessen the peaceful serenity of the evening, and its\ncorresponding effects on my own mind.  It invited and cherished just such\nmeditations as my visit had already inspired.  Natural scenery, when\nviewed in a Christian mirror, frequently affords very beautiful\nillustrations of divine truths.  We are highly favoured when we can enjoy\nthem, and at the same time draw near to God in them.\n\n\n\nPART VII.\n\n\nIt is a pleasing consideration, that amidst the spiritual darkness which\nunhappily prevails in many parts of the land, God nevertheless has a\npeople.  It not unfrequently happens that single individuals are to be\nfound, who, though very disadvantageously situated with regard to the\nordinary means of grace, have received truly saving impressions, and,\nthrough a blessing on secret meditation, reading, and prayer, are led to\nthe closest communion with God, and become eminently devoted Christians.\nIt is the no small error of too many professors of the present day, to\noverlook or undervalue the instances of this kind which exist.  The\nreligious profession and opinions of some have too much of mere\n_machinery_ in their composition.  If every wheel, pivot, chain, spring,\ncog, or pinion, be not exactly in its place, or move not precisely\naccording to a favourite and prescribed system, the whole is rejected as\nunworthy of regard.  But happily \"the Lord knoweth them that are his;\"\nnor is the impression of his own seal wanting to characterize some who,\nin comparative seclusion from the religious world, \"name the name of\nChrist and depart from iniquity.\"\n\nThere are some real Christians so peculiarly circumstanced in this\nrespect as to illustrate the poet's comparison,--\n\n   \"Full many a gem of purest ray serene\n      The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;\n   Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,\n      And waste its sweetness on the desert air.\"\n\nYet this was not altogether the case with the Dairyman's daughter.  Her\nreligion had indeed ripened in seclusion from the world, and she was\nintimately known but to few; but she lived usefully, departed most\nhappily, and left a shining track behind her.  While I attempt a faint\ndelineation of it, may I catch its influence, and become, through\ninexpressible mercy, a follower of \"them who through faith and patience\ninherit the promises!\"\n\nFrom the time wherein I visited her, as described in my last paper, I\nconsidered her end as fast approaching.  One day I received a hasty\nsummons to inform me that she was dying.  It was brought by a soldier,\nwhose countenance bespoke seriousness, good sense, and piety.\n\n\"I am sent, sir, by the father and mother of Elizabeth W---, at her own\nparticular request, to say how much they all wish to see you.  She is\ngoing _home_, sir, very fast indeed.\"\n\n\"Have you known her long?\"\n\n\"About a month, sir.  I love to visit the sick, and hearing of her case\nfrom a person who lives close by our camp, I went to see her.  I bless\nGod that ever I did go.  Her conversation has been very profitable to\nme.\"\n\n\"I rejoice,\" said I, \"to see in you, as I trust, a _brother soldier_.\nThough we differ in our outward regimentals, I hope we serve under the\nsame spiritual Captain.  I will go with you.\"\n\nMy horse was soon ready.  My military companion walked by my side, and\ngratified me with very sensible and pious conversation.  He related some\nremarkable testimonies of the excellent disposition of the Dairyman's\ndaughter, as they appeared from recent intercourse which he had had with\nher.\n\n\"She is a bright diamond, sir,\" said the soldier, \"and will soon shine\nbrighter than any diamond upon earth.\"\n\nWe passed through lanes and fields, over hills and valleys, by open and\nretired paths, sometimes crossing over and sometimes following the\nwindings of a little brook which gently murmured by the road side.\nConversation beguiled the distance, and shortened the apparent time of\nour journey, till we were nearly arrived at the Dairyman's cottage.\n\nAs we approached it, we became silent.  Thoughts of death, eternity, and\nsalvation, inspired by the sight of a house where a dying believer lay,\nfilled my own mind, and, I doubt not, that of my companion also.\n\nNo living object yet appeared, except the Dairyman's dog, keeping a kind\nof mute watch at the door; for he did not, as formerly, bark at my\napproach.  He seemed to partake so far of the feelings appropriate to the\ncircumstances of the family, as not to wish to give a hasty or painful\nalarm.  He came forward to the little wicket-gate, then looked back at\nthe house door, as if conscious there was sorrow within.  It was as if he\nwanted to say, \"Tread softly over the threshold, as you enter the house\nof mourning; for my master's heart is full of grief.\"\n\nThe soldier took my horse and tied it up in a shed.  A solemn serenity\nappeared to surround the whole place; it was only interrupted by the\nbreezes passing through the large elm-trees which stood near the house,\nand which my imagination indulged itself in thinking were plaintive sighs\nof sorrow.  I gently opened the door.  No one appeared, and all was still\nsilent.  The soldier followed.  We came to the foot of the stairs.\n\n\"They are come!\" said a voice, which I knew to be the father's; \"they are\ncome!\"\n\nHe appeared at the top.  I gave him my hand, and said nothing.  On\nentering the room above, I saw the aged mother and her son supporting the\nmuch-loved daughter and sister: the son's wife sat weeping in a window-\nseat, with a child on her lap: two or three persons attended in the room\nto discharge any office which friendship or necessity might require.\n\nI sat down by the bedside.  The mother could not weep, but now and then\nsighed deeply, as she alternately looked at Elizabeth and at me.  The big\ntear rolled down the brother's cheek, and testified an affectionate\nregard.  The good old man stood at the foot of the bed, leaning upon the\npost, and unable to take his eyes off the child from whom he was so soon\nto part.\n\nElizabeth's eyes were closed, and as yet she perceived me not.  But over\nher face, though pale, sunk, and hollow, the peace of God, which passeth\nall understanding, had cast a triumphant calm.\n\nThe soldier, after a short pause, silently reached out his Bible towards\nme, pointing with his finger at 1 Cor. xv. 55, 56, 57.  I then broke\nsilence by reading the passage, \"O death, where is thy sting?  O grave,\nwhere is thy victory?  The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin\nis the law.  But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through\nour Lord Jesus Christ.\"\n\nAt the sound of these words her eyes opened, and something like a ray of\ndivine light beamed on her countenance as she said, \"Victory! victory!\nthrough our Lord Jesus Christ.\"\n\nShe relapsed again, taking no further notice of any one present.\n\n\"God be praised for the triumph of faith!\" said I.\n\n\"Amen!\" replied the soldier.\n\nThe Dairyman's uplifted eye showed that the Amen was in his heart, though\nhis tongue failed to utter it.\n\nA short struggling for breath took place in the dying young woman, which\nwas soon over; and then I said to her,--\n\n\"My dear friend, do you not feel that you are supported?\"\n\n\"The Lord deals very gently with me,\" she replied.\n\n\"Are not his promises now very precious to you?\"\n\n\"They are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus.\"\n\n\"Are you in much bodily pain?\"\n\n\"So little that I almost forget it.\"\n\n\"How good the Lord is!\"\n\n\"And how unworthy am I!\"\n\n\"You are going to see him as he is.\"\n\n\"I think--I hope--I believe that I am.\"\n\nShe again fell into a short slumber.\n\nLooking at her mother, I said, \"What a mercy to have a child so near\nheaven as yours is!\"\n\n\"And what a mercy,\" she replied, in broken accents, \"if her poor old\nmother might but follow her there!  But, sir, it is so hard to part!\"\n\n\"I hope through grace by faith you will soon meet to part no more; it\nwill be but a little while.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the Dairyman, \"that thought supports me, and the Lord's\ngoodness makes me feel more reconciled than I was.\"\n\n\"Father--mother,\" said the reviving daughter, \"He is good to me--trust\nHim, praise Him evermore.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" added she, in a faint voice, \"I want to thank you for your\nkindness to me--I want to ask a favour;--you buried my sister--will you\ndo the same for me?\"\n\n\"All shall be as you wish, if God permit,\" I replied.\n\n\"Thank you, sir, thank you--I have another favour to ask--When I am gone,\nremember my father and mother.  They are old, but I hope the good work is\nbegun in their souls--My prayers are heard--Pray come and see them--I\ncannot speak much, but I want to speak for their sakes--Sir, remember\nthem.\"\n\nThe aged parents now sighed and sobbed aloud, uttering broken sentences,\nand gained some relief by such an expression of their feelings.\n\nAt length I said to Elizabeth, \"Do you experience any doubts or\ntemptations on the subject of your eternal safety?\"\n\n\"No, sir.  The Lord deals very gently with me, and gives me peace.\"\n\n\"What are your views of the dark valley of death, now that you are\npassing through it?\"\n\n\"It is _not_ dark.\"\n\n\"Why so?\"\n\n\"My Lord is _there_, and he is my light and my salvation.\"\n\n\"Have you any fears of more bodily suffering?\"\n\n\"The Lord deals so gently with me, I can trust him.\"\n\nSomething of a convulsion came on.  When it was past she said again and\nagain,--\n\n\"The Lord deals very gently with me.  Lord, I am thine; save me--Blessed\nJesus--precious Saviour--His blood cleanseth from all sin--Who shall\nseparate?--His name is Wonderful--Thanks be to God--He giveth the\nvictory--I, even I, am saved--O grace, mercy, and wonder!--Lord, receive\nmy spirit!--Dear sir--dear father, mother, friends, I am going--but all\nis well, well, well--.\"\n\nShe relapsed again.  We knelt down to prayer.  The Lord was in the midst\nof us, and blessed us.\n\nShe did not again revive while I remained, nor ever speak any more words\nwhich could be understood.  She slumbered for about ten hours, and at\nlast sweetly fell asleep in the arms of that Lord who had dealt so gently\nwith her.\n\nI left the house an hour after she had ceased to speak.  I pressed her\nhand as I was taking leave, and said, \"Christ is the resurrection and the\nlife.\"  She gently returned the pressure, but could neither open her eyes\nnor utter a reply.\n\nI never had witnessed a scene so impressive as this before.  It\ncompletely filled my imagination as I returned home.\n\n\"Farewell,\" thought I, \"dear friend, till the morning of an eternal day\nshall renew our personal intercourse.  Thou wast a brand plucked from the\nburning, that thou mightest become a star shining in the firmament of\nglory.  I have seen thy light and thy good works, and will therefore\nglorify our Father which is in heaven.  I have seen, in thy example, what\nit is to be a sinner freely saved by grace.  I have learned from thee, as\nin a living mirror, _who_ it is that begins, continues, and ends the work\nof faith and love.  Jesus is all in all: he will and shall be glorified.\nHe won the crown, and alone deserves to wear it.  May no one attempt to\nrob him of his glory!  He saves, and saves to the uttermost.  Farewell\ndear sister in the Lord.  Thy flesh and thy heart may fail; but God is\nthe strength of thy heart, and shall be thy portion for ever.\"\n\n\n\nPART VIII.\n\n\nWho can conceive or estimate the nature of that change which the soul of\na believer must experience at the moment when, quitting its tabernacle of\nclay, it suddenly enters into the presence of God?  If, even while \"we\nsee through a glass darkly,\" the views of divine love and wisdom are so\ndelightful to the eye of faith; what must be the glorious vision of God,\nwhen seen face to face!  If it be so valued a privilege here on earth to\nenjoy the communion of saints, and to take sweet counsel together with\nour fellow-travellers towards the heavenly kingdom; what shall we see and\nknow when we finally \"come unto mount Sion, and unto the city of the\nliving God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of\nangels, to the general assembly and church of the first-born, which are\nwritten in heaven, and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of\njust men made perfect, and to Jesus the mediator of the new covenant?\"\n\nIf, during the sighs and tears of a mortal pilgrimage, the consolations\nof the Spirit are so precious and the hope full of immortality is so\nanimating to the soul; what heart can conceive, or what tongue utter its\nsuperior joys, when arrived at that state where sighing and sorrow flee\naway, and the tears shall be wiped from every eye?\n\nSuch ideas were powerfully associated together in my imagination, as I\ntravelled onward to the house where, in solemn preparation for the grave,\nlay the remains of the Dairyman's daughter.\n\nShe had breathed her last shortly after the visit related in my former\naccount.  Permission was obtained, as before in the case of her sister,\nthat I should perform the funeral service.  Many pleasing yet melancholy\nthoughts were connected with the fulfilment of this task.  I retraced the\nnumerous and important conversations which I had held with her.  But\nthese could now no longer be maintained on earth.  I reflected on the\ninteresting and improving nature of _Christian_ friendships, whether\nformed in palaces or in cottages; and felt thankful that I had so long\nenjoyed that privilege with the subject of this memorial.  I then\nindulged a selfish sigh for a moment, on thinking that I could no longer\nhear the great truths of Christianity uttered by one who had drunk so\ndeep of the waters of the river of life.  But the rising murmur was\nchecked by the animating thought, \"She is gone to eternal rest--could I\nwish her back again in this vale of tears?\"\n\nAt that moment the first sound of a tolling bell struck my ear.  It\nproceeded from a village church in the valley directly beneath the ridge\nof a high hill, over which I had taken my way.  It was Elizabeth's\nfuneral knell.\n\nThe sound was solemn; and, in ascending to the elevated spot over which I\nrode, it acquired a peculiar tone and character.  Tolling at slow and\nregular intervals, (as was customary for a considerable time previous to\nthe hour of burial,) the bell, as it were, proclaimed the blessedness of\nthe dead who die in the Lord, and also the necessity of the living\npondering these things, and laying them to heart.  It seemed to say,\n\"Hear my warning voice, thou son of man.  There is but a step between\nthee and death.  Arise, prepare thine house; for thou shalt die, and not\nlive.\"\n\nThe scenery was in unison with that tranquil frame of mind which is most\nsuitable for holy meditation.  A rich and fruitful valley lay immediately\nbeneath; it was adorned with corn fields and pastures, through which a\nsmall river winded in a variety of directions, and many herds grazed upon\nits banks.  A fine range of opposite hills, covered with grazing flocks,\nterminated with a bold sweep into the ocean, whose blue waves appeared at\na distance beyond.  Several villages, hamlets, and churches, were\nscattered in the valley.  The noble mansions of the rich, and the lowly\ncottages of the poor, added their respective features to the landscape.\nThe air was mild, and the declining sun occasioned a beautiful\ninterchange of light and shade upon the sides of the hills.  In the midst\nof this scene, the chief sound that arrested attention was the bell\ntolling for the funeral of the Dairyman's daughter.\n\nDo any of my readers inquire why I describe so minutely the circumstances\nof prospect and scenery which may be connected with the incidents I\nrelate?  My reply is, that the God of redemption is the God of creation\nlikewise; and that we are taught in every part of the word of God to\nunite the admiration of the beauties and wonders of nature to every other\nmotive for devotion.  When David considered the heavens, the work of\nGod's fingers, the moon and the stars which he has ordained, he was\nthereby led to the deepest humiliation of heart before his Maker.  And\nwhen he viewed the sheep and the oxen and the beasts of the field, the\nfowls of the air and the fish of the sea, he was constrained to cry out,\n\"O Lord, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!\"\n\nI am the poor man's friend, and wish more especially that every poor\nlabouring man should know how to connect the goodness of God in creation\nand providence with the unsearchable riches of his grace in the salvation\nof a sinner.  And where can he learn this lesson more instructively than\nin looking around the fields where his labour is appointed, and there\ntracing the handiwork of God in all that he beholds?  Such meditations\nhave often afforded me both profit and pleasure, and I wish my readers to\nshare them with me.\n\nThe Dairyman's cottage was rather more than a mile distant from the\nchurch.  A lane, quite overshadowed with trees and high hedges, led from\nthe foot of the hill to his dwelling.  It was impossible at that time to\noverlook the suitable gloom of such an approach to the house of mourning.\n\nI found, on my entrance, that several Christian friends, from different\nparts of the neighbourhood, had assembled together, to pay their last\ntribute of esteem and regard to the memory of the Dairyman's daughter.\nSeveral of them had first become acquainted with her during the latter\nstage of her illness; some few had maintained an affectionate intercourse\nwith her for a longer period; but all seemed anxious to manifest their\nrespect for one who was endeared to them by such striking testimonies of\ntrue Christianity.\n\nI was requested to go into the chamber where the relatives and a few\nother friends were gone to take a last look at the remains of Elizabeth.\n\nIt is not easy to describe the sensation which the mind experiences on\nthe first sight of a dead countenance, which, when living, was loved and\nesteemed for the sake of that soul which used to give it animation.  A\ndeep and awful view of the separation that has taken place between the\nsoul and body of the deceased, since we last beheld them, occupies the\nfeelings: our friend seems to be both near, and yet far off.  The most\ninteresting and valuable part is fled away; what remains is but the\nearthly, perishing habitation, no longer occupied by its tenant.  Yet the\nfeatures present the accustomed association of friendly intercourse.  For\none moment, we could think them asleep.  The next reminds us that the\nblood circulates no more: the eye has lost its power of seeing, the ear\nof hearing, the heart of throbbing, and the limbs of moving.  Quickly a\nthought of glory breaks in upon the mind, and we imagine the dear\ndeparted soul to be arrived at its long-wished-for rest.  It is\nsurrounded by cherubim and seraphim, and sings the song of Moses and the\nLamb on Mount Zion.  Amid the solemn stillness of the chamber of death,\nimagination hears heavenly hymns chanted by the spirits of just men made\nperfect.  In another moment, the livid lips and sunken eye of the clay-\ncold corpse recall our thoughts to earth and to ourselves again.  And\nwhile we think of mortality, sin, death, and the grave, we feel the\nprayer rise in our bosom, \"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let\nmy last end be like his!\"\n\nIf there be a moment when Christ and salvation, death, judgment, heaven,\nand hell, appear more than ever to be momentous subjects of meditation,\nit is that which brings us to the side of a coffin containing the body of\na departed believer.\n\nElizabeth's features were altered, but much of her likeness remained.  Her\nfather and mother sat at the head, her brother at the foot of the coffin.\nThe father silently and alternately looked upon his dead child and then\nlifted up his eyes to heaven.  A struggle for resignation to the will of\nGod was manifest in his countenance; while the tears, rolling down his\naged cheeks, at the same time declared his grief and affection.  The poor\nmother cried and sobbed aloud, and appeared to be much overcome by the\nshock of separation from a daughter so justly dear to her.  The weakness\nand infirmity of old age added a character to her sorrow which called for\nmuch tenderness and compassion.\n\nA remarkably decent-looking woman, who had the management of the few\nsimple though solemn ceremonies which the case required, advanced towards\nme, saying,--\n\n\"Sir, this is rather a sight of joy than of sorrow.  Our dear friend\nElizabeth finds it to be so, I have no doubt.  She is beyond _all_\nsorrow: do you not think she is, sir?\"\n\n\"After what I have known, and seen, and heard,\" I replied, \"I feel the\nfullest assurance, that while her body remains here, her soul is with her\nSaviour in paradise.  She loved him _here_, and _there_ she enjoys the\npleasures which are at his right hand for evermore.\"\n\n\"Mercy, mercy upon a poor old creature, almost broken down with age and\ngrief!--What shall I do!--Betsy's gone.  My daughter's dead--O my child!\nI shall never see thee more.  God be merciful to me a sinner!\" sobbed out\nthe poor mother.\n\n\"That last prayer, my dear good woman,\" said I, \"will bring you and your\nchild together again.  It is a cry that has brought thousands to glory.\nIt brought your daughter there, and I hope it will bring you thither\nlikewise.  God will in no wise cast out any that come to him.\"\n\n\"My dear,\" said the Dairyman, breaking the long silence he had\nmaintained, \"let us trust God with our child; and let us trust him with\nour own selves.  The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be\nthe name of the Lord!  We are old, and can have but a little further to\ntravel in our journey, and then--,\" he could say no more\n\nThe soldier, mentioned in my last paper, reached a Bible into my hand,\nand said, \"Perhaps, sir, you would not object to reading a chapter before\nwe go to the church?\"\n\nI did so; it was the fourteenth of the book of Job.  A sweet tranquillity\nprevailed while I read it.  Each minute that was spent in this funeral\nchamber seemed to be valuable.  I made a few observations on the chapter,\nand connected them with the case of our departed sister.\n\n\"I am but a poor soldier,\" said our military friend, \"and have nothing of\nthis world's goods beyond my daily subsistence; but I would not exchange\nmy hope of salvation in the next world for all that this world could\nbestow without it.  What is wealth without grace?  Blessed be God! as I\nmarch about from one quarter to another, I still find the Lord wherever I\ngo; and, thanks be to his holy name, he is here to-day in the midst of\nthis company of the living and the dead.  I feel that it is good to be\nhere.\"\n\nSome other persons present began to take a part in our conversation, in\nthe course of which the life and experience of the Dairyman's daughter\nwere brought forward in a very interesting manner.  Each friend had\nsomething to relate in testimony of her gracious disposition.  A young\nwoman under twenty, who had hitherto been a very light and trifling\ncharacter, appeared to be remarkably impressed by the conversation of\nthat day; and I have since had ground to believe that Divine grace then\nbegan to influence her in the choice of that better part which shall not\nbe taken from her.\n\nWhat a contrast does such a scene as this exhibit, when compared with the\ndull, formal, unedifying, and often indecent manner, in which funeral\nparties assemble in the house of death!\n\nAs we conversed the parents revived.  Our subject of discourse was\ndelightful to their hearts.  Their child seemed almost to be alive again,\nwhile we talked of her.  Tearful smiles often brightened their\ncountenances, as they heard the voice of friendship uttering their\ndaughter's praises; or rather the praises of him who made her a vessel of\nmercy and an instrument of spiritual good to her family.\n\nThe time for departing to the church was now at hand.\n\nI went to take my last look at the deceased.\n\nThere was much written on her countenance.  She had evidently died with a\nsmile.  It still remained, and spoke the tranquillity of her departed\nsoul.  According to the custom of the country she was decorated with\nleaves and flowers in the coffin: she seemed as a bride gone forth to\nmeet the bridegroom.  These, indeed, were fading flowers, but they\nreminded me of that paradise whose flowers are immortal, and where her\nnever-dying soul is at rest.\n\nI remembered the last words which I had heard her speak, and was\ninstantly struck with the happy thought, that \"death was indeed swallowed\nup in victory.\"\n\nAs I slowly retired, I said inwardly, \"Peace, my honoured sister, be to\n_thy_ memory and to _my_ soul, till we meet in a better world.\"\n\nIn a little time the procession formed: it was rendered the more\ninteresting by the consideration of so many that followed the coffin\nbeing persons of a devout and spiritual character.  The distance was\nrather more than a mile.  I resolved to continue with and go before them,\nas they moved slowly onwards.  Immediately after the body came the\nvenerable father and mother, {87} bending with age, and weeping through\nmuch affliction of heart.  Their appearance was calculated to excite\nevery emotion of pity, love, and esteem.  The other relatives followed\nthem in order, and the several attendant friends took their places\nbehind.\n\nAfter we had advanced about a hundred yards, my meditation was\nunexpectedly and most agreeably interrupted by the friends who attended\nbeginning to sing a funeral psalm.  Nothing could be more sweet or\nsolemn.  The well-known effect of the open air in softening and blending\nthe sounds of music, was here peculiarly felt.  The road through which we\npassed was beautiful and romantic.  It lay at the foot of a hill, which\noccasionally re-echoed the voices of the singers, and seemed to give\nfaint replies to the notes of the mourners.  The funeral knell was\ndistinctly heard from the church tower, and greatly increased the effect\nwhich this simple and becoming service produced.\n\nWe went by several cottages: a respectful attention was universally\nobserved as we passed; and the countenances of many proclaimed their\nregard for the departed young woman.  The singing was regularly\ncontinued, with occasional intervals of about five minutes during our\nwhole progress.\n\nI cannot describe the state of my own mind as peculiarly connected with\nthis solemn singing.  I was reminded of older times and ancient piety.  I\nwished the practice more frequent.  It seems well calculated to excite\nand cherish devotion and religious affections.\n\nMusic, when judiciously brought into the service of religion, is one of\nthe most delightful, and not least efficacious means of grace.  I pretend\nnot too minutely to conjecture as to the actual nature of those pleasures\nwhich, after the resurrection, the re-united body and soul will enjoy in\nheaven; but I can hardly persuade myself that melody and harmony will be\nwanting, when even the sense of hearing shall itself be glorified.\n\nWe at length arrived at the church.  Looking upwards as I drew near the\nchurch, I observed a dial on the wall.  The sun's declining rays directed\nthe shadow to the evening hour.  As I passed underneath this simple but\nsolemn monitor, I was reminded of the lapse of time, the uncertainty of\nlife, and sure approach of eternity.  I thought with David, \"We are\nstrangers before thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers; our days\non earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding.\"\n\n\"Lord, so teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto\nwisdom.\"\n\nThe service was heard with deep and affectionate attention.  When we came\nto the grave, the hymn which Elizabeth had selected was sung.  All was\ndevout, simple, animating.  We committed our dear sister's body to the\nearth, in full hope of a joyful resurrection from the dead.\n\nThus was the veil of separation drawn for a season.  She is departed, and\nno more seen.  But she will be seen on the right hand of her Redeemer at\nthe last day, and will again appear to his glory, a miracle of grace and\nmonument of mercy.\n\nMy reader, rich or poor, shall you and I appear there likewise?  Are we\n\"clothed with humility,\" and arrayed in the wedding garment of a\nredeemer's righteousness?  Are we turned from idols to serve the living\nGod?  Are we sensible of our own emptiness, and therefore flying to a\nSaviour's fulness to obtain grace and strength?  Do we indeed live in\nChrist, and on him, and by him, and with him?  Is he our all in all?  Are\nwe \"lost, and found?\" \"dead, and alive again?\"\n\nMy _poor_ reader, the Dairyman's daughter was a _poor_ girl, and the\nchild of a _poor_ man.  Herein thou resemblest her: but dost thou\nresemble _her_ as she resembled Christ?  Art thou made rich by faith?\nHast thou a crown laid up for thee?  Is thine heart set upon heavenly\nriches?  If not, read this story once more, and then pray earnestly for\nlike precious faith.\n\nBut if, through grace, thou dost love and serve the Redeemer that saved\nthe Dairyman's daughter, grace, peace, and mercy be with thee!  The lines\nare fallen unto thee in pleasant places: thou hast a goodly heritage.\nPress forward in duty, and wait upon the Lord, possessing thy soul in\nholy patience.  Thou hast just been with me to the grave of a departed\nbeliever.  Now \"go thy way till the end be; for thou shalt rest, and\nstand in thy lot at the end of the days.\"\n\nElizabeth died May 30, 1801, aged 31 years.\n\n{The Dairyman's Daughter's Grave: p89.jpg}\n\n\n\n\nTHE NEGRO SERVANT.\n\n\nPART I.\n\n\nIf a map of the world, instead of being coloured, as is usual, with many\ngay and brilliant tints, in order to distinguish its various continents,\nkingdoms, and islands from each other, were to be painted with darker or\nbrighter hues corresponding with the spiritual character of the\ninhabitants, what a gloomy aspect would be presented, to the eye of the\n_Christian_ geographer, by the greater portion of the habitable globe!\nHow dark would be the shade thus cast over the larger districts of the\nvast continents of Asia and America! and what a mass of gloom would\ncharacterize the African quarter of the world!\n\nHere and there a bright spot would mark the residence of a few missionary\nlabourers, devoting themselves to God, and scattering the rays of\nChristian light among the surrounding heathen; but over the greater part\n\"the blackness of darkness\" would emblematically describe the iron reign\nof Mohammedan superstition and Pagan idolatry.\n\nThe Christian prays that God would have \"respect unto the covenant; for\nthe dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.\"  He\nhopes to see the nations \"open their eyes, and turn from darkness to\nlight, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive\nforgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by\nfaith.\"\n\nThe curse originally pronounced on the descendants of Ham has, in a\nvariety of respects, both temporal and spiritual, been awfully\nfulfilled--\"A servant of servants shall he be.\"  Slavery, as well of mind\nas body, has been continued amongst the Africans through their\ngenerations in a manner which at once proves the truth of the Divine\nprediction, and yet calls aloud for the ardent prayers and active\nexertions of Christians in their behalf.  The time will come when the\nheathen shall be proved to have been given to Christ \"for an inheritance,\nand the uttermost parts of the earth for his possession.\"  The degraded\nHottentot, and the poor benighted Negro, will look from the ends of the\nearth unto Jesus, and be saved.  \"Many shall run to and fro, and\nknowledge shall be increased.\"  The Redeemer \"shall see of the travail of\nhis soul, and shall be satisfied,\" in beholding the gathering together,\nnot only of the outcasts of Israel that are ready to perish, but of\nchurches and people from all the tongues, and kindreds, and nations of\nthe earth.  In the day of his appearing, the sons of Africa will vie with\ntheir brethren of the north, and the west, and the east, in resounding\nthe praises of God their Saviour from one end of the earth to the other.\n\nIn the meantime, we rejoice in every occasional instance of the love and\npower of God in effecting the conversion of some, who appear as the first-\nfruits of that harvest which shall hereafter so fruitfully grow up, to\nthe honour of Christ and the blessedness of his redeemed people.\n\nThe following narrative of real facts may, perhaps, illustrate the\nimportance of the foregoing remarks.\n\nDuring a residence of some years' continuance in the neighbourhood of the\nsea, an officer of the navy called upon me, and stated that he had just\ntaken a lodging in the parish for his wife and children; and had a Negro,\nwho had been three years in his service.  \"The lad is a deserving\nfellow,\" said the officer, \"and he has a great desire to be baptized.  I\nhave promised him to ask you to do it, if you have not any objections.\"\n\n\"Does he know anything,\" replied I, \"of the principles of the Christian\nreligion?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, I am sure he does,\" answered the captain; \"for he talks a great\ndeal about it in the kitchen, and often gets laughed at for his pains;\nbut he takes it all very patiently.\"\n\n\"Does he behave well as your servant?\"\n\n\"Yes, that he does; he is as honest and civil a fellow as ever came on\nboard ship, or lived in a house.\"\n\n\"Was he always so well behaved?\"\n\n\"No,\" said the officer; \"when I first had him he was often very unruly\nand deceitful; but for the last two years he has been quite like another\ncreature.\"\n\n\"Well, sir, I shall be very glad to see him, and think it probable I\nshall wish to go through a course of instruction and examination; during\nwhich I shall be able to form a judgment how far it will be right to\nadmit him to the sacrament of baptism.  Can he read?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied his master; \"he has been taking great pains to learn to\nread for some time past, and can make out a chapter in the Bible pretty\nwell, as my maid-servant informs me.  He speaks English better than many\nof his countrymen, but you will find it a little broken.  When will it be\nconvenient that I should send him over to you?\"\n\n\"To-morrow afternoon, sir, if you please.\"\n\n\"He shall come to you about four o'clock, and you shall see what you can\nmake of him.\"\n\nWith this promise he took his leave.  I felt glad of an opportunity of\ninstructing a native of that land whose wrongs and injuries had often\ncaused me to sigh and mourn; the more so, when I reflected _who_ had been\nthe aggressors.\n\nAt the appointed hour my Negro disciple arrived.  He was a very young-\nlooking man, with a sensible, lively, and pleasing countenance.\n\nI desired him to sit down, and said, \"Your master informs me that you\nwish to have some conversation with me respecting Christian baptism.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; me very much wish to be a Christian,\" said he.\n\n\"Why do you wish so?\"\n\n\"Because me know that Christian go to heaven when he die.\"\n\n\"How long have you had that wish?\" I said.\n\n\"Ever since me heard one goot minister preach in America, two years ago.\"\n\n\"Where were you born?\"\n\n\"In Africa.  Me was very little boy when me was made slave by the white\nmen.\"\n\n\"How was that?\"\n\n\"Me left father and mother one day at home to go get shells by de sea-\nshore, and as me was stooping down to gather them up, some white sailors\ncame out of a boat and took me away.  Me never see father nor mother\nagain.\"\n\n\"And what became of you then?\"\n\n\"Me was put into ship, and brought to Jamaica and sold to a master, who\nkept me in his house to serve him some years; when, about three years\nago, Captain W---, my master, dat spoke to you, bought me to be his\nservant on board his ship.  And he be goot master; he gave me my liberty,\nand made me free, and me live with him ever since.\"\n\n\"And what thoughts had you about your soul all that time before you went\nto America?\" I asked him.\n\n\"Me no care for my soul at all before den.  No man teach me one word\nabout my soul.\"\n\n\"Well, now tell me further about what happened to you in America.  How\ncame you there?\"\n\n\"My master take me dere in his ship, and he stop dere one month, and den\nme hear de goot minister.\"\n\n\"And what did the minister say?\"\n\n\"He said me was a great sinner.\"\n\n\"What! did he speak to you in particular?\"\n\n\"Yes, me tink so; for dere was great many to hear him, but he tell dem\nall about me.\"\n\n\"What did he say?\"\n\n\"He say about all de tings dat were in my heart.\"\n\n\"What things?\"\n\n\"My sin, my ignorance, my know noting, my believe noting.  De goot\nminister make me see dat me _tink_ noting goot, me _do_ noting goot.\"\n\n\"And what else did he tell you?\"\n\n\"He sometime look me in de face, and say dat Jesus Christ came to die for\nsinners, poor black sinners as well as white sinners.  Me tought dis was\nvery goot, very goot, indeed, to do so for a wicked sinner.\"\n\n\"And what made you think this was all spoken to you in particular?\"\n\n\"Because me sure no such wicked sinner as me in all de place.  De goot\nminister must know me was dere.\"\n\n\"And what did you think of yourself while he preached about Jesus\nChrist?\"\n\n\"Sir, me was very much afraid, when he said the wicked must be turned\ninto hell-fire.  For me felt dat me was very wicked sinner, and dat make\nme cry.  And he talk much about de love of Christ to sinners, and dat\nmake me cry more.  And me tought me must love Jesus Christ; but me not\nknow how, and dat make me cry again.\"\n\n\"Did you hear more sermons than one during that month?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; master gave me leave to go tree times, and all de times me\nwanted to love Jesus more, and do what Jesus said; but my heart seem\nsometime hard, like a stone.\"\n\n\"Have you ever heard any preaching since that time?\"\n\n\"Never, till me hear sermon at dis church last Sunday, and den me long to\nbe baptized in Jesus' name; for me had no Christian friends to baptize me\nwhen little child.\"\n\n\"And what have been your thoughts all the time since you first heard\nthese sermons in America?  Did you tell anybody what you then felt?\"\n\n\"No, me speak to nobody but to God den.  De goot minister say dat God\nhear de cry of de poor; so me cry to God, and he hear me.  And me often\ntink about Jesus Christ, and wish to be like him.\"\n\n\"Can you read?\"\n\n\"A little.\"\n\n\"Who taught you to read?\"\n\n\"God teach me to read.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by saying so?\"\n\n\"God give me desire to read, and dat make reading easy.  Master give me\nBible, and one sailor show me de letters: and so me learned to read by\nmyself, with God's good help.\"\n\n\"And what do you read in the Bible?\"\n\n\"Oh, me read all about Jesus Christ, and how he loved sinners; and wicked\nmen killed him, and he died, and came again from de grave; and all dis\nfor poor Negro.  And it sometime make me cry, to tink that Christ love so\npoor Negro.\"\n\n\"And what do the people say about your reading, and praying, and\nattention to the things of God?\"\n\n\"Some wicked people, dat do not love Jesus Christ, call me great fool,\nand Negro dog, and black hypocrite.  And dat make me sometimes feel\nangry; but den me remember Christian must not be angry, for Jesus Christ\nwas called ugly black names, and he was quiet as a lamb; and so den me\nremember Jesus Christ; and me say nothing again to dem.\"\n\nI was much delighted with the simplicity and apparent sincerity of this\npoor Negro, and wished to ascertain what measure of light and feeling he\npossessed on a few leading points.  St. Paul's summary of religion {97}\noccuring to me, I said, \"Tell me what is faith?  What is your faith?  What\ndo you believe about Jesus Christ, and your own soul?\"\n\n\"Me believe,\" said he, \"dat Jesus Christ came into de world to save\nsinners; and dough me be chief of sinners, yet Jesus will save me, dough\nme be only poor black Negro.\"\n\n\"What is your hope?  What do you hope for, both as to this life and that\nwhich is to come?\"\n\n\"Me hope Jesus Christ will take good care of me, and keep me from sin and\nharm, while me live here; and me hope, when me come to die, to go and\nlive with him always, and never die again.\"\n\n\"What are your thoughts about Christian love or charity,--I mean, whom\nand what do you most love?\"\n\n\"Me love God de Father, because he was so goot to send his Son.  Me love\nJesus Christ, because he love men.  Me love all men, black men and white\nmen too; for God made dem all.  Me love goot Christian people, because\nJesus love dem, and dey love Jesus.\"\n\nSuch was my first conversation with this young disciple.  I rejoiced in\nthe prospect of receiving him into the Church agreeably to his desire.  I\nwished, however, to converse somewhat further, and inquire more minutely\ninto his conduct; and promised to ride over and see him in a few days at\nhis master's lodgings.\n\nWhen he was gone, I thought within myself, God has indeed redeemed souls\nby the blood of his Son, \"out of _every_ kindred, and tongue, and people,\nand nation.\"  If many of them for a season are devoted to earthly\nslavery, {98} through the cruel avarice of man, yet, blessed be God, some\namongst them are, through divine grace, called to the glorious liberty of\nthe children of God; and so are redeemed from the slavery of him who\ntakes so many captive at his will.  It is a happy thought, that \"Ethiopia\nshall soon stretch forth her hands unto God.  Sing unto God, ye kingdoms\nof the earth.  Oh, sing praises unto the Lord.\"\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\n\nWhen we endeavour to estimate the worth of an immortal soul, we are\nutterly lost in the attempt.  The art of spiritual computation is not\ngoverned by the same principles and rules which guide our speculations\nconcerning earthly objects.  The value of gold, silver, merchandize,\nfood, raiment, lands, and houses, is easily regulated, by custom,\nconvenience, or necessity.  Even the more capricious and imaginary worth\nof a picture, medal, or statue, may be reduced to something of systematic\nrule.  Crowns and sceptres have had their adjudged valuation; and\nkingdoms have been bought and sold for sums of money.  But who can affix\nthe adequate price to a human soul?  \"What shall it profit a man, if he\nshall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man\ngive in exchange for his soul?\"\n\nThe principles of ordinary arithmetic all fail here; and we are\nconstrained to say, that He alone who paid the ransom for sinners, and\nmade the souls of men his \"purchased possession,\" can comprehend and\nsolve the arduous question.  They are, indeed, \"bought with a price,\" but\nare \"not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold; but with\nthe precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without\nspot.\"  We shall only ascertain the value of a soul, when we shall be\nfully able to estimate the worth of a Saviour.\n\nToo often have we been obliged to hear what is the price which sordid,\nunfeeling avarice has affixed to the _body_ of a poor Negro slave; let us\nnow attempt, while we pursue the foregoing narrative, to meditate on the\nvalue which Infinite Mercy has attached to his _soul_.\n\nNot many days after my first interview with my Negro disciple, I went\nfrom home with the design of visiting and conversing with him again at\nhis master's house, which was situated in a part of the parish nearly\nfour miles distant from my own.  The road which I took lay over a lofty\ndown, which commands a prospect of scenery seldom exceeded in beauty and\nmagnificence.  It gave birth to silent but instructive contemplation.\n\nThe down itself was covered with sheep, grazing on its wholesome and\nplentiful pasture.  Here and there a shepherd's boy kept his appointed\nstation, and watched over the flock committed to his care.  I viewed it\nas an emblem of my own situation and employment.  Adjoining the hill lay\nan extensive parish, wherein many souls were given me to watch over, and\nrender an account of, at the day of the great Shepherd's appearing.  The\npastoral scene before me seemed to be a living parable, illustrative of\nmy own spiritual charge.  I felt a prayerful wish, that the good\nShepherd, who gave His life for the sheep, might enable me to be faithful\nto my trust.\n\nIt occurred to me, about the same time, that my young African friend was\na sheep of another more distant fold, which Christ will yet bring to hear\nhis voice.  For there shall be one fold and one Shepherd, and all nations\nshall be brought to acknowledge that He alone \"restoreth our souls, and\nleadeth us in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.\"  On the\nleft hand of the hill, as I advanced eastward, and immediately under its\ndeclivity, extended a beautiful tract of land intersected by a large arm\nof the sea, which (as the tide was fast flowing in) formed a broad lake\nor haven of three miles in length.  Woods, villages, cottages, and\nchurches, surrounded it in most pleasing variety of prospect.  Beyond\nthis lay a large fleet of ships of war, and not far from it another of\nmerchantmen, both safe at anchor, and covering a tract of the sea of\nseveral miles in extent.  Beyond this, again, I saw the fortifications,\ndockyards, and extensive public edifices of a large seaport town.  The\nsun shone upon the windows of the buildings and the flags of the ships\nwith great brightness, and added much to the splendour of the view.\n\nI thought of the concerns of empires and plans of statesmen, the fate of\nnations and the horrors of war.  Happy will be that day when He shall\nmake wars to cease unto the end of the earth, and peace to be established\nin its borders.\n\nIn the meantime, let us be thankful for those vessels and instruments of\ndefence, which, in the hands of God, preserve our country from the hand\nof the enemy and the fury of the destroyer.  What, thought I, do we not\nowe to the exertions of the numerous crews on board those ships, who\nleave their homes to fight their country's battles and maintain its\ncause, whilst we sit every man under his vine and fig-tree, tasting the\nsweets of a tranquillity unknown to most other nations in these days of\nconflict and bloodshed!\n\nOn my right hand, to the south and south-east, the unbounded ocean\ndisplayed its mighty waves.  It was covered with vessels of every size,\nsailing in all directions: some outward-bound to the most distant parts\nof the world; others, after a long voyage, returning home, laden with the\nproduce of remote climes: some going forth in search of the enemy; others\nsailing back to port after the hard-fought engagement, and bearing the\ntrophies of victory in the prizes which accompanied them home.\n\nAt the south-west of the spot on which I was riding extended a beautiful\nsemicircular bay, of about nine or ten miles in circumference, bounded by\nhigh cliffs of white, red, and brown-coloured earths.  Beyond this lay a\nrange of hills, whose tops are often buried in cloudy mists, but which\nthen appeared clear and distinct.  This chain of hills, meeting with\nanother from the north, bounds a large fruitful vale, whose fields, now\nripe for harvest, proclaimed the goodness of God in the rich provision\nwhich he makes for the sons of men.  It is he who prepares the corn: he\ncrowns the year with his goodness, and his paths drop fatness.  \"They\ndrop upon the pastures of the wilderness; and the little hills rejoice on\nevery side.  The pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also are\ncovered over with corn; they shout for joy, they also sing.\"\n\n         \"The roving sight\n   Pursues its pleasing course o'er neighbouring hills,\n   Of many a different form and different hue:\n   Bright with the rip'ning corn, or green with grass,\n   Or dark with clovers purple bloom.\"\n\nAs I looked upon the numerous ships moving before me, I remembered the\nwords of the psalmist: \"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do\nbusiness in great waters; these see the works of the Lord, and his\nwonders in the deep.  For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind,\nwhich lifteth up the waves thereof.  They mount up to the heaven, they go\ndown again to the depths: their soul is melted because of trouble.  They\nreel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at their wits\nend.  Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and he bringeth them\nout of their distresses.  He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves\nthereof are still.  Then are they glad because they be quiet; so he\nbringeth them unto their desired haven.  Oh that men would praise the\nLord for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children of\nmen!\" (Ps. cvii. 23-31.)\n\nThe Negro servant then occurred to my mind.  Perhaps, thought I, some of\nthese ships are bound to Africa, in quest of that most infamous object of\nmerchandise, a cargo of black slaves.  Inhuman traffic for a nation that\nbears the name of Christian!  Perhaps these very waves, that are now\ndashing on the rocks at the foot of this hill, have, on the shores of\nAfrica, borne witness to the horrors of forced separation between wives\nand husbands, parents and children, torn asunder by merciless men, whose\nhearts have been hardened against the common feeling of humanity by long\ncustom in this cruel trade.  \"Blessed are the merciful; for they shall\nobtain mercy.\"  When shall the endeavours of _that_ truly Christian\n_friend_ of the oppressed Negro be crowned with success, in the abolition\nof this wicked and disgraceful traffic? {103}\n\nAs I pursued the meditations which this magnificent and varied scenery\nexcited in my mind, I approached the edge of a tremendous perpendicular\ncliff, with which the down terminates.  I dismounted from my horse, and\ntied it to a bush.  The breaking of the waves against the foot of the\ncliff at so great a distance beneath me, produced an incessant and\npleasing murmur.  The sea-gulls were flying between the top of the cliff\nwhere I stood and the rocks below, attending upon their nests, built in\nthe holes of the cliff.  The whole scene in every direction was grand and\nimpressive; it was suitable to devotion.  The Creator appeared in the\nworks of his creation, and called upon the creatures to honour and adore.\nTo the believer, this exercise is doubly delightful.  He possesses a\nright to the enjoyment of nature and providence, as well as to the\nprivileges of grace.  His title-deed runs thus: \"All things are yours;\nwhether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or\nthings present, or things to come; all are yours; and ye are Christ's;\nand Christ is God's.\"\n\nI cast my eye downwards a little to the left towards a small cove, the\nshore of which consists of fine hard sand.  It is surrounded by fragments\nof rock, chalk-cliffs, and steep banks of broken earth.  Shut out from\nhuman intercourse and dwellings, it seems formed for retirement and\ncontemplation.  On one of these rocks I unexpectedly observed a man\nsitting with a book which he was reading.  The place was near two hundred\nyards perpendicularly below me, but I soon discovered by his dress, and\nby the black colour of his features contrasted with the white rocks\nbeside him, that it was no other than my Negro disciple, with, as I\ndoubted not, a Bible in his hand.  I rejoiced at this unlooked-for\nopportunity of meeting him in so solitary and interesting a situation.  I\ndescended a steep bank, winding by a kind of rude staircase, formed by\nfishermen and shepherds' boys, in the side of the cliff down to the\nshore.\n\nHe was intent on his book, and did not perceive me till I approached very\nnear to him.\n\n\"William, is that you?\"\n\n\"Ah, massa! me very glad to see you.  How came massa into dis place?  Me\ntought nobody here, but only God and me.\"\n\n\"I was coming to your master's house to see you, and rode round by this\nway for the sake of the prospect.  I often come here in fine weather, to\nlook at the sea and shipping.  Is that your Bible?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; {105} dis my dear goot Bible.\"\n\n\"I am glad,\" said I, \"to see you so well employed.  It is a good sign,\nWilliam.\"\n\n\"Yes, massa, a sign that God is goot to me; but me never goot to God.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"Me never tank him enough; me never pray to him enough: me never remember\nenough who give me all dese goot tings.  Massa, me afraid my heart is\nvery bat.  Me wish me was like you.\"\n\n\"Like me, William?  Why, you are like me, a poor helpless sinner, that\nmust, as well as yourself, perish in his sins, unless God, of his\ninfinite mercy and grace, pluck him as a brand from the burning, and make\nhim an instance of distinguishing love and favour.  There is no\ndifference; we have both come short of the glory of God: all have\nsinned.\"\n\n\"No, me not like you, massa; me tink nobody like me,--nobody feel such a\nheart as me.\"\n\n\"Yes, William, your feelings, I am persuaded, are like those of every\ntruly convinced soul, who sees the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the\ngreatness of the price which Christ Jesus paid for the sinner's ransom.\nYou can say, in the words of the hymn,--\n\n   'I the chief of sinners am,\n   But Jesus died for me.'\"\n\n\"O yes, sir, me believe that Jesus died for poor Negro.  What would\nbecome of poor wicked Negro, if Christ no die for him?  But he die for de\nchief of sinners, and dat make my heart sometimes quite glad.\"\n\n\"What part of the Bible were you reading, William?\"\n\n\"Me read how de man upon de cross spoke to Christ, and Christ spoke to\nhim.  Now dat man's prayer just do for me; 'Lord, remember me.'  Lord,\nremember poor Negro sinner: dis is my prayer every morning, and sometimes\nat night too; when me cannot tink of many words, den me say de same\nagain; Lord, remember poor Negro sinner.\"\n\n\"And be sure, William, the Lord hears that prayer.  He pardoned and\naccepted the thief upon the cross, and he will not reject you; he will in\nno wise cast out any that come to him.\"\n\n\"No, sir, I believe it; but dere is so much sin in my heart, it makes me\nafraid and sorry.  Massa, do you see dese limpets, {107} how fast dey\nstick to de rocks here?  Just so, sin sticks fast to my heart.\"\n\n\"It may be so, William; but take another comparison: do you cleave to\nJesus Christ, by faith in his death and righteousness, as those limpets\ncleave to the rock, and neither seas nor storms shall separate you from\nhis love.\"\n\n\"Dat is just what me want.\"\n\n\"Tell me, William, is not that very sin which you speak of a burden to\nyou?  You do not love it; you would be glad to obtain strength against\nit, and to be freed from it; would you not?\"\n\n\"O yes; me give all dis world, if me had it, to be without sin!\"\n\n\"Come then, and welcome, to Jesus Christ, my brother; his blood cleanseth\nfrom all sin.  He gave himself as a ransom for sinners.  He hath borne\nour grief, and carried our sorrows.  He was wounded for our\ntransgressions; he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of\nour peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed.  The Lord\nhath laid on him the iniquity of us all.  Come, freely come to Jesus, the\nSaviour of sinners.\"\n\n\"Yes, massa,\" said the poor fellow, weeping, \"me will come: but me come\nvery slow; very slow, massa: me want to run, me want to fly.  Jesus is\nvery goot to poor Negro, to send you to tell him all dis.\"\n\n\"But this is not the first time you have heard these truths!\"\n\n\"No, sir; dey have been comfort to my soul many times, since me hear goot\nminister preach in America, as me tell you last week at your house.\"\n\n\"Well, now I hope, William, that since God has been so graciously pleased\nto open your eyes, and affect your mind with such a great sense of his\ngoodness in giving his Son to die for your sake; I hope that you do your\nendeavour to keep his commandments: I hope you strive to behave well to\nyour master and mistress, and fellow-servants.  He that is a Christian\ninwardly will be a Christian outwardly; he that truly and savingly\nbelieves in Christ, will show his faith by his works, as the apostle\nsays.  Is it not so, William?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; me want to do so.  Me want to be faithful.  Me sorry to tink\nhow bat servant me was before de goot tings of Jesus Christ come to my\nheart.  Me wish to do well to my massa, when he see me and when he not\nsee; for me know God always see me.  Me know dat if me sin against mine\nown massa, me sin against God, and God be very angry with me.  Beside,\nhow can me love Christ if me do not what Christ tell me?  Me love my\nfellow-servants, dough, as I tell you before, dey do not much love me;\nand I pray God to bless dem.  And when dey say bat tings, and try to make\nme angry, den me tink, if Jesus Christ were in poor Negro's place, he\nwould not revile and answer again with bat words and temper, but he say\nlittle and pray much.  And so den me say noting at all, but pray to God\nto forgive dem.\"\n\nThe more I conversed with this African convert, the more satisfactory\nwere the evidences of his mind being spiritually enlightened, and his\nheart effectually wrought upon by the grace of God.\n\nThe circumstances of the place in which we met together contributed much\nto the interesting effect which the conversation produced on my mind.  The\nlittle cove or bay was beautiful in the extreme.  The air was calm and\nserene.  The sun shone, but we were sheltered from its rays by the\ncliffs.  One of these was stupendously lofty and large.  It was white as\nsnow; its summit hung directly over our heads.  The sea-fowls were flying\naround it.  Its whiteness was occasionally chequered with dark green\nmasses of samphire, which grew there.  On the other side, and behind us,\nwas a more gradual declivity of many-coloured earths, interspersed with\ngreen patches of grass and bushes, and little streams of water trickling\ndown the bank, and mingling with the sea at the bottom.  At our feet the\nwaves were advancing over shelves of rocks covered with a great variety\nof sea-weeds, which swam in little fragments, and displayed much beauty\nand elegance of form as they were successively thrown upon the sand.\n\nShips of war and commerce were seen at different distances.  Fishermen\nwere plying their trade in boats nearer the shore.  The noise of the\nflowing tide, combined with the voices of the sea-gulls over our heads,\nand now and then a distant gun fired from the ships as they passed along,\nadded much to the peculiar sensations to which the scene gave birth.\nOccasionally the striking of oars upon the waves, accompanied by the\nboatmen's song, met the ear.  The sheep aloft upon the down sometimes\nmingled their bleatings with the other sounds.  Thus all nature seemed to\nunite in impressing an attentive observer's heart with affecting\nthoughts.\n\nI remained for a considerable time in conversation with the Negro,\nfinding that his master was gone from home for the day, and had given him\nliberty for some hours.  I spoke to him on the nature, duty, and\nprivilege of Christian baptism; pointed out to him, from a prayer-book\nwhich I had with me, the clear and scriptural principles of our own\nchurch upon that head; and found that he was very desirous of conforming\nto them.  He appeared to me to be well qualified for receiving that\nsacramental pledge of his Redeemer's love; and I rejoiced in the prospect\nof beholding him no longer a \"stranger and foreigner, but a\nfellow-citizen with the saints, and of the household of God.\"\n\n\"God,\" said I to him, \"has promised to 'sprinkle many nations,' not only\nwith the waters of baptism, but also with the dews of his heavenly grace.\nHe says he will not only 'pour water on him that is thirsty,' but, 'I\nwill pour my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thine\noffspring.'\"\n\n\"Yes, massa,\" said he, \"he can make me to be clean in heart, and of a\nright Spirit; he can purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; he can\nwash me, and I shall be whiter dan snow.\"\n\n\"May God give you these blessings, and confirm you in every good gift!\"\n\nI was much pleased with the affectionate manner in which he spoke of his\nparents, from whom he had been stolen in his childhood; and his wishes\nthat God might direct them by some means to the knowledge of the Saviour.\n\n\"Who knows,\" I said, \"but some of these ships may be carrying a\nmissionary to the country where they live, to declare the good news of\nsalvation to your countrymen, and to your own dear parents in particular,\nif they are yet alive!\"\n\n\"Oh, my dear fader and moder!  My dear gracious Saviour,\" exclaimed he,\nleaping from the ground as he spoke, \"if dou wilt but save deir souls,\nand tell dem what dou hast done for sinner; but--\"\n\nHe stopped, and seemed much affected.\n\n\"My friend,\" said I, \"I will now pray with you, for your own soul, and\nfor those of your parents also.\"\n\n\"Do, massa; dat is very good and kind: do pray for poor Negro souls here\nand everywhere.\"\n\nThis was a new and solemn \"house of prayer.\"  The sea-sand was our floor,\nthe heavens were our roof, the cliffs, the rocks, the hills, and the\nwaves, formed the walls of our chamber.  It was not, indeed, a \"place\nwhere prayer was wont to be made;\" but for this once it became a hallowed\nspot: it will by me ever be remembered as such.  The presence of God was\nthere.  I prayed: the Negro wept.  His heart was full.  I felt with him,\nand could not but weep likewise.\n\nThe last day will show whether our tears were not the tears of sincerity\nand Christian love.\n\nIt was time for my return.  I leaned upon his arm as we ascended the\nsteep cliff on my way back to my horse, which I had left at the top of\nthe hill.  Humility and thankfulness were marked in his countenance.  I\nleaned upon his arm with the feelings of a _brother_.  It was a\nrelationship I was happy to own.  I took him by the hand at parting,\nappointed one more interview previous to the day of baptizing him, and\nbade him farewell for the present.\n\n\"God bless you, my dear massa!\"\n\n\"And you, my fellow-Christian, for ever and ever!\"\n\n\n\nPART III.\n\n\nThe interesting and affecting conversation which I had with the Negro\nservant produced a sensation not easy to be expressed.  As I returned\nhome, I was led into meditation on the singular clearness and beauty of\nthose evidences of faith and conversion of heart to God, which I had just\nseen and heard.  How plainly, I thought, it appears that salvation is\nfreely \"by grace through faith; and that not of ourselves; it is the gift\nof God; not of works, lest any man should boast.\"  What but the Holy\nSpirit, who is the author and giver of the life of grace, could have\nwrought such a change from the once dark, perverse, and ignorant heathen,\nto this now convinced, enlightened, humble, and believing Christian!  How\nmanifestly is the uncontrolled sovereignty of the Divine will exercised\nin the calling and translating of sinners from darkness to light!  What a\nlesson may the nominal Christian of a civilized country sometimes learn\nfrom the simple, sincere religion of a converted heathen!\n\nI afterwards made particular inquiry into this young man's domestic and\ngeneral deportment.  Everything I heard was satisfactory, nor could I\nentertain a doubt respecting the consistency of his conduct and\ncharacter.  I had some further conversations with him, in the course of\nwhich I pursued such a plan of scriptural instruction and examination as\nI conceived to be the most suitable to his progressive state of mind.  He\nimproved much in reading, carried his Bible constantly with him, and took\nevery opportunity which his duty to his master's service would allow for\nperusing it.  I have frequently had occasion to observe that amongst the\ntruly religious poor, who have not had the advantage of being taught to\nread in early youth, a concern about the soul and a desire to know the\nword of God, have proved effectual motives for their learning to read\nwith great ease and advantage to themselves and others.  It was\nstrikingly so in the present case.\n\nI had, for a considerable time, been accustomed to meet some serious\npersons once a week, in a cottage at no great distance from the house\nwhere he lived, for the purpose of religious conversation, instruction,\nand prayer.  Having found these occasions remarkably useful and\ninteresting, I thought it would be very desirable to take the Negro\nthere, in order that there might be other witnesses to the simplicity and\nsincerity of real Christianity, as exhibited in the character of this\npromising young convert.  I hoped it might prove an eminent mean of grace\nto excite and quicken the spirit of prayer and praise amongst some of my\nparishioners, over whose spiritual progress I was anxiously watching.\n\nI accordingly obtained his master's leave that he should attend me to one\nof my cottage assemblies.  His master, who was thoroughly convinced of\nthe extraordinary change, in conduct and disposition, which religion had\nproduced in his servant, was pleased with my attention to him, and always\nspoke well of his behaviour.\n\nI set out on the day appointed for the interview.  The cottage at which\nwe usually assembled was nearly four miles distant from my own residence.\nMy road lay along the foot of the hill mentioned in my last account of\nthe Negro, from the summit of which so luxuriant a prospect was seen.  On\nmy right hand the steep acclivity of the hill intercepted all prospect,\nexcept that of numerous sheep feeding on its rich and plentiful produce.\nHere and there the nearly perpendicular side of a chalk-pit varied the\nsurface of the hill, contrasting a dazzling white to the sober green of\nthe surrounding bank.\n\nOn the left hand, at the distance of nearly half a mile, the tide flowed\nfrom the sea into a lake or haven of a considerable length and breadth.\nAt one end of it, fishing and pilot vessels lay at anchor; at the other\nappeared the parish church, amongst the adjoining woods and fields.  The\nbells were ringing; a gently swelling sound was brought along the surface\nof the water, and an echo returned from a prominent part of the hill\nbeneath which I was riding.  The whole scene was delightful.\n\nI passed some rural and beautifully situated cottages, which seemed to be\nformed as fit residences for peace and tranquillity; each was surrounded\nby a garden, and each had a little orchard or field adjacent, where the\nhusbandman's cow enjoyed her own pasture, and at the same time prepared\nrich provision for her owner's family.  Such was the wise and considerate\nallotment which the landlords and the farmers had _here_ made for the\nlabouring poor.  The wholesome vegetable, the medicinal herb, and the\nsweet-scented flower, intermingled as they grew around these little\ndwellings, and reminded me, as I looked upon them, how comfortable is the\nlot of the industrious poor, whose hearts have learned the lesson of\ngratitude in the school of heavenly wisdom.  For them as mercifully as\nfor their richest neighbour, the sun shines, the rain descends, the earth\nbrings forth her increase, the flower blossoms, the bird sings.  Their\nwants are few, and contentment makes them less.  How great the blessing\nof being poor in this world, but rich in faith and a chosen inheritance\nin a better!\n\nI knew that this was the character of some whose humble but neat and\ncleanly cottages I passed.  A few such features in the prospect rendered\nit most lovely.  Peace be to their memory, both as pilgrims and strangers\nhere, and as ransomed souls whom I hope to meet in glory hereafter!\n\nThe house to which I was travelling was situated at the corner of an oak\nwood, which screened it both from the burning heat of summer suns and the\nheavy blasts of winter south-west storms.  As I approached it, I saw my\nfriend the Negro sitting under a tree, and waiting my arrival.  He held\nin his hand a little tract which I had given him; his Bible lay on the\nground.  He rose with much cheerfulness, saying--\n\n\"Ah, massa, me very glad to see you; me tink you long time coming.\"\n\n\"William, I hope you are well.  I am going to take you with me to a few\nof my friends, who, I trust, are truly sincere in their religious\npursuits.  We meet every Wednesday evening for conversation about the\nthings that belong to our everlasting peace, and I am sure you will be a\nwelcome visitor.\"\n\n\"Massa, me not goot enough to be with such goot people.  Me great sinner;\ndey be goot Christian.\"\n\n\"If you were to ask them, William, they would each tell you they were\nworse than others.  Many of them were once, and that not very long ago,\nliving in an openly sinful manner, ignorant of God, and the enemies of\nJesus Christ by thought and deed.  But divine grace stopped them in their\nwicked course, and subdued their hearts to the love and obedience of him\nand his gospel.  You will only meet a company of poor fellow-sinners, who\nlove to speak and sing the praises of redeeming love; and I am sure,\nWilliam, that is a song in which you will be willing to join them.\"\n\n\"O yes, sir! dat song just do for poor Negro.\"\n\nBy this time we had arrived at the cottage garden gate.  Several well-\nknown faces appeared in and near the house, and the smile of affection\nwelcomed us as we entered.  It was known that the Negro was to visit the\nlittle society this evening, and satisfaction beamed on every\ncountenance, as I took him by the hand and introduced him among them,\nsaying, \"I have brought a brother from Africa to see you, my friends.  Bid\nhim welcome in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said an humble and pious labourer, whose heart and tongue always\noverflowed with Christian kindness, \"we are at all times glad to see our\ndear minister, but especially so to-day in such company as you have\nbrought with you.  We have heard how merciful the Lord has been to him.\nGive me your hand, good friend (turning to the Negro).  God be with you,\nhere and everywhere; and blessed be his holy name for calling sinners, as\nI hope he has done you and me, to love and serve him for his mercy's\nsake.\"\n\nEach one greeted him as he came into the house, and some addressed him in\nvery kind and impressive language.\n\n\"Massa,\" said he, \"me not know what to say to all dese goot friends; me\ntink dis look a little like heaven upon earth.\"\n\nHe then, with tears in his eyes--which, almost before he spoke, brought\nresponsive drops into those of many present--said, \"Goot friends and\nbredren in Christ Jesus, God bless you all, and bring you to heaven at de\nlast.\"\n\nIt was my stated custom, when I met to converse with these cottagers, to\nbegin with prayer and reading a portion of the Scriptures.\n\nWhen this was ended, I told the people present that the providence of God\nhad placed this young man for a time under my ministry; and that, finding\nhim seriously disposed, and believing him to be very sincere in his\nreligious profession, I had resolved on baptizing him, agreeably to his\nown wishes.  I added, that I had now brought him with me to join in\nChristian conversation with us; for, as in olden times they that feared\nthe Lord spake often one to another, in testimony that they thought upon\nhis name (Mal. iii. 16), so I hoped we were fulfilling a Christian and\nbrotherly duty in thus assembling for mutual edification.\n\nAddressing myself to the Negro, I said, \"William, tell me who made you.\"\n\n\"God, de goot Fader.\"\n\n\"Who redeemed you?\"\n\n\"Jesus, his dear Son, who died for me.\"\n\n\"Who sanctified you?\"\n\n\"The Holy Ghost, who teach me to know de goot Fader, and his dear Son\nJesus.\"\n\n\"What was your state by nature?\"\n\n\"Me wicked sinner; me know noting but sin, me do noting but sin; my soul\nmore black dan my body.\"\n\n\"Has any change taken place in you since then?\"\n\n\"Me hope so, massa; but me sometime afraid no.\"\n\n\"If you are changed, who changed you?\"\n\n\"God de goot Fader, Jesus his dear Son, and God de Holy Spirit.\"\n\n\"How was any change brought about in you?\"\n\n\"God make me a slave when me was young little boy.\"\n\n\"How, William? would you say God made you a slave?\"\n\n\"No, massa, no: me mean, God let me be made slave by white men, to do me\ngoot.\"\n\n\"How to do you good?\"\n\n\"He take me from de land of darkness, and bring me to de land of light.\"\n\n\"Which do you call the land of light? the West India Islands?\"\n\n\"No, massa; dey be de land of Providence, but America be de land of light\nto me; for dere me first hear goot minister preach.  And now dis place\nwhere I am now is de land of more light; for here you teach me more and\nmore how goot Jesus is to sinners.\"\n\n\"What does the blood of Christ do?\"\n\n\"It cleanse from all sin; and so me hope from my sin.\"\n\n\"Are then all men cleansed from sin by his blood?\"\n\n\"O no, massa.\"\n\n\"Who are cleansed and saved?\"\n\n\"Dose dat have faith in him.\"\n\n\"Can you prove that out of the Bible?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir: 'He dat believeth on de Son hath everlasting life; and he dat\nbelieveth not de Son shall not see life, but de wrath of God abideth on\nhim'\" (John iii. 36).\n\n\"What is it to have faith?\"\n\n\"Me suppose dat it is to tink much about Jesus Christ, to love him much,\nto believe all he says to be true, to pray to him very much; and when me\nfeel very weak and very sinful, to tink dat he is very strong and very\ngoot, and all dat for my sake.\"\n\n\"And have you such a faith as you describe?\"\n\n\"Oh, massa! me tink sometimes me have no faith at all.\"\n\n\"Why so, William?\"\n\n\"When me want to tink about Jesus Christ, my mind run about after oder\ntings; when me want to love him, my heart soon quite cold; when me want\nto believe all to be true what he says to sinners, me den tink it is not\ntrue for me; when me want to pray, de devil put bat, very bat thoughts\ninto me; and me never tank Christ enough.  Now all dis make me sometimes\nafraid I have no faith.\"\n\nI observed a very earnest glow of attention and fellow-feeling in some\ncountenances present, as he spoke these words I then said--\n\n\"I think, William, I can prove that you have faith, notwithstanding your\nfears to the contrary.  Answer me a few more questions.\n\n\"Did you begin to think yourself a great sinner, and to feel the want of\na Saviour, of your own self, and by your own thoughts and doings?\"\n\n\"O no; it came to me when me tink noting about it, and seek noting about\nit.\"\n\n\"Who sent the good minister in America to awaken your soul by his\npreaching?\"\n\n\"God, very certainly.\"\n\n\"Who then began the work of serious thought in your mind?\"\n\n\"De goot God; me could not do it of myself, me sure of dat.\"\n\n\"Do you not think that Jesus Christ and his salvation are the one thing\nmost needful and most desirable?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, me quite sure of dat.\"\n\n\"Do you not believe that he is able to save you?\"\n\n\"Yes, he is able to save to de uttermost.\"\n\n\"Do you think he is not willing to save you?\"\n\n\"Me dare not say dat.  He is so goot, so merciful, so kind, to say he\nwill in no wise cast out any dat come to him.\"\n\n\"Do you wish, and desire, and strive to keep his commandments?\"\n\n\"Yes, massa, because me love him, and dat make me want to do as he say.\"\n\n\"Are you willing to suffer for his sake, if God should call you to do\nso?\"\n\n\"Me do tink me could die for de love of him: he not tink it too much to\ndie for wicked sinner; why should wicked sinner tink it much to die for\nso goot and righteous a Saviour?\"\n\n\"I think and hope I may say to you, William, 'Thy faith hath made thee\nwhole.'\"\n\nThus ended my examination for the present.  The other friends who were in\nthe house listened with the most affectionate anxiety to all that passed.\nOne of them observed, not without evident emotion--\n\n\"I see, sir, that though some men are white and some are black, true\nChristianity is all of one colour.  My own heart has gone with this good\nman, every word he has spoken.\"\n\n\"And so has mine,\" gently re-echoed from every part of the room.\n\nAfter some time passed in more general conversation on the subject of the\nNegro's history, I said, \"Let us now praise God for the rich and\nunspeakable gift of his grace, and sing the hymn of redeeming love--\n\n   'Now begin the heavenly theme,\n   Sing aloud in Jesus' name,'\" &c.\n\nWhich was accordingly done.  Whatever might be the merit of the natural\nvoices, it was evident there was spiritual melody in all their hearts.\n\nThe Negro was not much used to our way of singing, yet joined with great\nearnestness and affection, that showed how truly he felt what he uttered.\nWhen the fifth verse was ended--\n\n   \"Nothing brought him from above,\n   Nothing but redeeming love\"--\n\nhe repeated the words, almost unconscious where he was--\n\n\"No, noting, noting but redeeming love, bring him down to poor William;\nnoting but redeeming love.\"\n\nThe following verses were added and sung by way of conclusion:--\n\n   See, a stranger comes to view,\n   Though he's black, {121} he's comely too\n   Comes to join the choirs above,\n   Singing of redeeming love.\n\n   Welcome, Negro, welcome here,\n   Banish doubt and banish fear;\n   You, who Christ's salvation prove,\n   Praise and bless redeeming love.\n\nI concluded with some remarks on the nature of salvation by grace,\nexhorting all present to press forward in the heavenly journey.  It was\nan evening the circumstances of which, had they never been recorded on\nearth, were yet, doubtless, registered in the book of remembrance above.\n\nI then fixed the day for the baptism of the Negro, and so took leave of\nmy little affectionate circle.\n\nThe moon shone bright as I returned home, and was beautifully reflected\nfrom the waters of the lake; harmony and repose characterized the scene.\nI had just been uniting in the praises of the God of grace and\nprovidence; and now the God of nature demanded a fresh tribute of\nthanksgiving for the beauties and comforts of creation; as David sang,\n\"When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the\nstars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of\nhim? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?\"\n\nIn a few days the Negro was baptized, and not long after went on a voyage\nwith his master.\n\nSince that time I have not been able to hear any tidings of him.  Whether\nhe yet wanders as a pilgrim in this lower world, or whether he has joined\nthe heavenly choir in the song of \"redeeming love\" in glory, I know not.\nThis I do know, he was a monument to the Lord's praise.  He bore the\nimpression of the Saviour's image on his heart, and exhibited the marks\nof divine grace in his life and conversation, with singular simplicity\nand unfeigned sincerity.\n\nGive to God the glory.\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG COTTAGER.\n\n\nPART I.\n\n\nWhen a serious Christian turns his attention to the barren state of the\nwilderness through which he is travelling, frequently must he heave a\nsigh for the sins and sorrows of his fellow-mortals.  The renewed heart\nthirsts with holy desire that the Paradise which was lost through Adam\nmay be fully regained in Christ.  But the overflowings of sin within and\nwithout, the contempt of sacred institutions, the carelessness of soul,\nthe pride of unbelief, the eagerness of sensual appetite, the ambition\nfor worldly greatness, and the deep-rooted enmity of the carnal heart\nagainst God: these things are as \"the fiery serpents, and scorpions, and\ndrought,\" which distress his soul, as he journeys through \"that great and\nterrible wilderness.\"\n\nSometimes, like a solitary pilgrim, he weeps in secret places, and rivers\nof water run down his eyes, because men keep not the law of God.\n\nOccasionally he meets with a few fellow-travellers whose spirit is\ncongenial with his own, and with whom he can take \"sweet counsel\ntogether.\"  They comfort and strengthen each other by the way.  Each can\nrelate something of the mercies of his God, and how kindly they have been\ndealt with, as they travelled onwards.  The dreariness of the path is\nthus beguiled, and now and then, for a while, happy experiences of the\ndivine consolation cheer their souls; \"the wilderness and the solitary\nplace are glad for them; the desert rejoices and blossoms as the rose.\"\n\nBut even at the very time when the Christian is taught to feel the peace\nof God which passeth all understanding, to trust that he is personally\ninterested in the blessings of salvation, and to believe that God will\npromote his own glory by glorifying the penitent sinner; yet sorrows will\nmingle with his comforts, and he will rejoice, not without trembling,\nwhen he reflects on the state of other men.  The anxieties connected with\nearthly relations are all alive in his soul, and, through the operation\nof the Spirit of God, become sanctified principles and motives for\naction.  As the husband and father of a family; as the neighbour of the\npoor, the ignorant, the wicked, and the wretched; above all, as the\nspiritual overseer of the flock, if such be his holy calling, the heart\nwhich has been taught to feel for its own case will abundantly feel for\nothers.\n\nBut when he attempts to devise means in order to stem the torrent of\niniquity, to instruct the ignorant, and to convert the sinner from the\nerror of his way, he cannot help crying out, \"Who is sufficient for these\nthings?\"  Unbelief passes over the question, and trembles.  But faith\nquickly revives the inquirer with the cheerful assurance that \"our\nsufficiency is of God,\" and saith, \"Commit thy way unto the Lord, and he\nshall bring it to pass.\"\n\nWhen he is thus affectionately engaged for the good of mankind, he will\nbecome seriously impressed with the necessity of early attentions to the\nyoung in particular.  Many around him are grown gray-headed in sin, and\ngive but little prospect of amendment.  Many of the parents and heads of\nfamilies are so eagerly busied in the profits, pleasures, and occupations\nof the world, that they heed not the warning voice of their instructor.\nMany of their elder children are launching out into life, headstrong,\nunruly, \"earthly, sensual, devilish;\" they likewise treat the wisdom of\nGod as if it were foolishness.  But, under these discouragements, we may\noften turn with hope to the very young, to the little ones of the flock,\nand endeavour to teach them to sing hosannas to the Son of David, before\ntheir minds are wholly absorbed in the world and its allurements.  We may\ntrust that a blessing shall attend such labours, if undertaken in faith\nand simplicity, and that some at least of our youthful disciples, like\nJosiah, while they are yet young, may begin to seek after the God of\ntheir fathers.\n\nSuch an employment, especially when blessed by any actual instances of\nreal good produced, enlivens the mind with hope, and fills it with\ngratitude.  We are thence led to trust that the next generation may\nbecome more fruitful unto God than the present, and the Church of Christ\nbe replenished with many such as have been called into the vineyard\n\"early in the morning.\"  And should our endeavours for a length of time\napparently fail of success, yet we ought not to despair.  Early\nimpressions and convictions of conscience have sometimes lain dormant for\nyears, and at last revived into gracious existence and maturity.  It was\nnot said in vain, \"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he\nis old he will not depart from it.\"\n\nWhat a gratifying occupation it is to an affectionate mind, even in a way\nof nature, to walk through the fields, and lead a little child by the\nhand, enjoying its infantine prattle, and striving to improve the time by\nsome kind word of instruction!  I wish that every Christian pilgrim in\nthe way of grace, as he walks through the Lord's pastures, would try to\nlead at least one little child by the hand; and perhaps, whilst he is\nendeavouring to guide and preserve his young and feeble companion, the\nLord will recompense him double for all his cares by comforting his own\nheart in the attempt.  The experiment is worth the trial.  It is\nsupported by this recollection,--\"The Lord will come with strong hand,\nand his arm shall rule for him; behold, his reward is with him, and his\nwork before him.  He shall feed his flock like a shepherd; he shall\ngather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and _shall\ngently lead those that are with young_.\"\n\nI shall plead no further apology for introducing to the notice of my\nreaders a few particulars relative to a young female cottager, whose\nmemory is particularly endeared to me from the circumstance of her being,\nso far as I can trace or discover, my first-born spiritual child in the\nministry of the gospel.  She was certainly the first, of whose conversion\nto God, under my own pastoral instruction, I can speak with precision and\nassurance.\n\nEvery parent of a family knows that there is a very interesting emotion\nof heart connected with the birth of his first-born child.  Energies and\naffections, to which the mind has hitherto been almost a stranger, begin\nto unfold themselves and expand into active existence when he first is\nhailed as a father.  But may not the spiritual father be allowed the\npossession and indulgence of a similar sensation in his connection with\nthe children whom the Lord gives him, as begotten through the ministry of\nthe word of life!  If the first-born child in nature be received as a new\nand acceptable blessing, how much more so the first-born child in grace!\nI claim this privilege, and crave permission, in writing what follows, to\nerect a monumental record, sacred to the memory of a dear little child,\nwho, I trust, will at the last day prove my crown of rejoicing.\n\nJane S--- was the daughter of poor parents, in the village where it\npleased God first to cast my lot in the ministry.  My acquaintance with\nher commenced when she was twelve years of age by her weekly attendance\nat my house amongst a number of children whom I invited and regularly\ninstructed every Saturday afternoon.\n\nThey used to read, repeat catechisms, psalms, hymns, and portions of\nScripture.  I accustomed them also to pass a kind of free conversational\nexamination, according to their age and ability, in those subjects by\nwhich I hoped to see them made wise unto salvation.\n\nOn the summer evenings I frequently used to assemble this little group\nout of doors in my garden, sitting under the shade of some trees, which\nprotected us from the heat of the sun; from hence a scene appeared, which\nrendered my occupation the more interesting.  For adjoining the spot\nwhere we sat, and only separated from us by a fence, was the churchyard,\nsurrounded with beautiful prospects in every direction.\n\nThere lay the mortal remains of thousands, who, from age to age, in their\ndifferent generations, had been successively committed to the\ngrave,--\"earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.\"  Here the once\nfamed ancestors of the rich, and the less known forefathers of the poor\nlay mingling their dust together, and alike waiting the resurrection from\nthe dead.\n\nI had not far to look for subjects of warning and exhortation suitable to\nmy little flock of lambs that I was feeding.  I could point to the\nheaving sods that marked the different graves and separated them from\neach other, and tell my pupils that, young as they were, none of them\nwere too young to die; and that probably more than half of the bodies\nwhich were buried there were those of little children.  I hence took\noccasion to speak of the nature and value of a soul, and to ask them\nwhere they expected their souls to go when they departed hence and were\nno more seen on earth.\n\nI told them who was \"the resurrection and the life,\" and who alone could\ntake away the sting of death.  I used to remind them that the hour was\n\"coming in the which all that are in the graves shall hear His voice, and\nshall come forth: they that have done good, unto the resurrection of\nlife; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.\"\nI often availed myself of these opportunities to call to their\nrecollection the more recent deaths of their own relatives that lay\nburied so near us.  Some had lost a parent, others a brother or sister;\nsome perhaps had lost all these, and were committed to the mercy of their\nneighbours as fatherless or motherless orphans.  Such circumstances were\noccasionally useful to excite tender emotions, favourable to serious\nimpressions.\n\nSometimes I sent the children to the various stones which stood at the\nhead of the graves, and bid them learn the epitaphs inscribed upon them.\nI took pleasure in seeing the little ones thus dispersed in the\nchurchyard, each committing to memory a few verses written in\ncommemoration of the departed.  They would soon accomplish the desired\nobject, and eagerly return to me ambitious to repeat their task.\n\nThus my churchyard became a book of instruction, and every grave-stone a\nleaf of edification for my young disciples.\n\nThe church itself stood in the midst of the ground.  It was a spacious\nantique structure.  Within those very walls I first proclaimed the\nmessage of God to sinners.  As these children surrounded me, I sometimes\npointed to the church, spoke to them of the nature of public worship, the\nvalue of the Sabbath, the duty of regular attendance on its services, and\nurged their serious attention to the means of grace.  I showed them the\nsad state of many countries, where neither churches nor Bibles were\nknown, and the no less melancholy condition of multitudes at home, who\nsinfully neglect worship and slight the word of God.  I thus tried to\nmake them sensible of their own favours and privileges.\n\nNeither was I at a loss for another class of objects around me from which\nI could draw useful instruction; for many of the beauties of created\nnature appealed in view.\n\nEastward of us extended a large river or lake of sea-water, chiefly\nformed by the tide, and nearly enclosed by land.  Beyond this was a fine\nbay and road for ships, filled with vessels of every size, from the small\nsloop or cutter to the first-rate man-of-war.  On the right hand of the\nhaven rose a hill of peculiarly beautiful form and considerable height.\nIts verdure was very rich, and many hundred sheep graced upon its sides\nand summit.  From the opposite shore of the same water a large sloping\nextent of bank was diversified with fields, woods, hedges, and cottages.\nAt its extremity stood, close to the edge of the sea itself, the remains\nof the tower of an ancient church, still preserved as a sea-mark.  Far\nbeyond the bay, a very distant shore was observable, and land beyond it;\ntrees, towns, and other buildings appeared, more especially when gilded\nby the reflected rays of the sun.\n\nTo the south-westward of the garden was another down, covered also with\nflocks of sheep, and a portion of it fringed with trees.  At the foot of\nthis hill lay the village, a part of which gradually ascended to the\nrising ground on which the church stood.\n\nFrom the intermixture of houses with gardens, orchards, and trees, it\npresented a very pleasing aspect.  Several fields adjoined the garden on\nthe east and north, where a number of cattle were pasturing.  My own\nlittle shrubberies and flower-beds variegated the view, and recompensed\nmy toil in rearing them, as well by their beauty as their fragrance.\n\nHad the sweet psalmist of Israel sat in this spot, he would have\nglorified God the Creator by descanting on these his handiworks.  I\ncannot write psalms like David, but I wish, in my own poor way, to praise\nthe Lord for his goodness, and to show forth his wonderful works to the\nchildren of men.  But had David been also surrounded with a troop of\nyoung scholars in such a situation, he would once more have said, \"Out of\nthe mouths of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength.\"\n\nI love to retrace these scenes; they are past, but the recollection is\nsweet.\n\nI love to retrace them, for they bring to my mind many former mercies,\nwhich ought not, for the Lord's sake, to be forgotten.\n\nI love to retrace them, for they reassure me that, in the course of that\nprivate ministerial occupation, God was pleased to give me so valuable a\nfruit of my labours.\n\nLittle Jane used constantly to appear on these weekly seasons of\ninstruction.  I made no very particular observations concerning her\nduring the first twelve months or more after her commencement of\nattendance.  She was not then remarkable for any peculiar attainment.  On\nthe whole, I used to think her rather more slow of apprehension than most\nof her companions.  She usually repeated her tasks correctly, but was\nseldom able to make answers to questions for which she was not previously\nprepared with replies--a kind of extempore examination, in which some of\nthe children excelled.  Her countenance was not engaging; her eye\ndiscovered no remarkable liveliness.  She read tolerably well, took\npains, and improved in it.\n\nMildness and quietness marked her general demeanour.  She was very\nconstant in her attendance on public worship at the church, as well as on\nmy Saturday instruction at home.  But, generally speaking, she was little\nnoticed, except for her regular and orderly conduct.  Had I then been\nasked of which of my young scholars I had formed the most favourable\nopinion, poor Jane might have been altogether omitted in the list.\n\nHow little do we oftentimes know what God is doing in other people's\nhearts!  What poor calculators and judges we frequently prove till he\nopens our eyes!  His thoughts are not our thoughts; neither our ways his\nways.\n\nOnce, indeed, during the latter part of that year, I was struck with her\nready attention to my wishes.  I had, agreeably to the plan above\nmentioned, sent her into the churchyard to commit to memory an epitaph\nwhich I admired.  On her return she told me that, in addition to what I\ndesired, she had also learned another, which was inscribed on an\nadjoining stone, adding, that she thought it a very pretty one.\n\nI thought so too, and perhaps my readers will be of the same opinion.\nLittle Jane, though dead, yet shall speak.  While I transcribe the lines,\nI can powerfully imagine that I hear her voice repeating them.  The idea\nis exceedingly gratifying to me.\n\n   EPITAPH ON MRS. A. B.\n\n   Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear\n      That mourns a thy exit from a world like this;\n   Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here,\n      And stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss.\n\n   No more confined to grovelling scenes of night,\n      No more a tenant pent in mortal clay;\n   Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight,\n      And trace thy journey to the realms of day.\n\nThe above was her appointed task; and the other, which she voluntarily\nlearned and spoke of with pleasure, is this:--\n\n   EPITAPH ON THE STONE ADJOINING.\n\n   It must be so--Our father Adam's fall,\n   And disobedience, brought this lot on all.\n   All die in him--But, hopeless should we be,\n   Blest Revelation! were it not for thee.\n   Hail, glorious Gospel! heavenly light, whereby\n   We live with comfort, and with comfort die;\n   And view, beyond this gloomy scene the tomb\n   A life of endless happiness to come.\n\nI afterwards discovered that the sentiment expressed in the latter\nepitaph had much affected her, but at the period of this little incident\nI knew nothing of her mind; I had comparatively overlooked her.  I have\noften been sorry for it since.  Conscience seemed to rebuke me when I\nafterwards discovered what the Lord had been doing for her soul, as if I\nhad neglected her, yet it was not done designedly.  She was unknown to us\nall, except that, as I since found out, her regularity and abstinence\nfrom the sins and follies of her young equals in age and station brought\nupon her many taunts and jeers from others, which she bore very meekly;\nbut at that time I knew it not.\n\nI was young myself in the ministry, and younger in Christian experience.\nMy parochial plans had not as yet assumed such a principle of practical\norder and inquiry as to make me acquainted with the character and conduct\nof each family and individual in my flock.\n\nI was then quite a learner, and had much to learn.\n\nAnd what am I now?  A learner still; and if I have learned anything, it\nis this, that I have every day more and more yet to learn.  Of this I am\ncertain, that my young scholar soon became my teacher.  I _first_ saw\nwhat true religion could accomplish in witnessing her experience of it.\nThe Lord once \"called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst\nof his disciples\" as an emblem and an illustration of his doctrine.  But\nthe Lord did more in the case of little Jane.  He not only called _her_\nas a child to show, by a similitude, what conversion means, but he also\ncalled her by his grace to be a vessel of mercy, and a living witness of\nthat almighty power and love by which her own heart was turned to God.\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\n\nThere is no illustration of the nature and character of the Redeemer's\nkingdom on earth which is more grateful to contemplation, than that of\nthe shepherd and his flock.  Imagination has been accustomed, from our\nearliest childhood, to wander amongst the fabled retreats of the Arcadian\nshepherds.  We have probably often delighted ourselves in our own native\ncountry, by witnessing the interesting occupation of the pastoral scene.\nThe shepherd, tending his flock on the side of some spacious hill, or in\nthe hollow of a sequestered valley; folding them at night, and guarding\nthem against all danger; leading them from one pasture to another, or for\nrefreshment to the cooling waters.  These objects have met and gratified\nour eyes, as we travelled through the fields, and sought out creation's\nGod, amidst creation's beauties.  The poet and the painter have each lent\ntheir aid to cherish our delight in these imaginations.  Many a\ndescriptive verse has strengthened our attachment to the pastoral scene,\nand many a well-wrought picture has occasioned it to glow like a reality\nin our ideas.\n\nBut far more impressively than these causes can possibly affect, has the\nword of God endeared the subject to our hearts, and sanctified it to\nChristian experience.  Who does not look back with love and veneration to\nthose days of holy simplicity, when patriarchs of the church of God lived\nin tents and watched their flocks?  With what a strength and beauty of\nallusion do the prophets refer to the intercourse between the shepherd\nand flock for an illustration of the Saviour's kingdom on earth!  The\nPsalmist rejoiced in the consideration that the Lord was his Shepherd,\nand that therefore he should not want.  The Redeemer himself assumed this\ninteresting title, and declared that \"his sheep hear his voice, he knows\nthem, and they follow him, and he gives unto them eternal life.\"\n\nPerhaps at no previous moment was this comparison ever expressed so\npowerfully, as when his risen Lord gave the pastoral charge to the lately\noffending but now penitent disciple, saying, \"Feed my sheep.\"  Every\nprinciple of grace, mercy, and peace, met together on that occasion.\nPeter had thrice denied his Master: his Master now thrice asked him,\n\"Lovest thou me?\"  Peter each time appealed to his own, or to his Lord's\nconsciousness of what he felt within his heart.  As often Jesus commited\nto his care the flock which he had purchased with his blood.  And that\nnone might be forgotten, he not only said, \"Feed my sheep,\" but \"Feed my\nlambs,\" also.\n\nMay every instructor of the young keep this injunction enforced on his\nconscience and affections,--I return to little Jane.\n\nIt was about fifteen months from the first period of her attendance on my\nSaturday school, when I missed her from her customary place.  Two or\nthree weeks had gone by, without my making any particular inquiry\nrespecting her.  I was at length informed that she was not well; but\napprehending no peculiar cause for alarm, nearly two months passed away\nwithout any further mention of her name being made.\n\nAt length a poor old woman in the village, of whose religious disposition\nI had formed a good opinion, came and said to me, \"Sir, have you not\nmissed Jane S--- at your house on Saturday afternoons?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied, \"I believe she is not well.\"\n\n\"Nor ever will be, I fear,\" said the woman.\n\n\"What! do you apprehend any danger in the case?\"\n\n\"Sir, she is very poorly indeed, and I think is in a decline.  She wants\nto see you, sir; but is afraid you would not come to see such a poor\nyoung child as she is.\"\n\n\"Not go where poverty and sickness may call me?  How can she imagine so?\nAt which house does she live?\"\n\n\"Sir, it is a poor place, and she is ashamed to ask you to come there.\nHer near neighbours are noisy wicked people, and her own father and\nmother are strange folks.  They all make game at poor Jenny because she\nreads her Bible so much.\"\n\n\"Do not tell me about poor places and wicked people: that is the very\nsituation where a minister of the gospel is called to do the most good.  I\nshall go to see her; you may let her know my intention.\"\n\n\"I will, sir; I go in most days to speak to her, and it does one's heart\ngood to hear her talk.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said I, \"what does she talk about?\"\n\n\"Talk about, poor thing! why, nothing but good things, such as the Bible,\nand Jesus Christ, and life, and death, and her soul, and heaven, and\nhell, and your discourses, and the books you used to teach her, sir.  Her\nfather says he'll have no such godly things in his house; and her own\nmother scoffs at her, and says she supposes Jenny counts herself better\nthan other folks.  But she does not mind all that.  She will read her\nbooks, and then talk so pretty to her mother, and beg that she would\nthink about her soul.\"\n\n\"The Lord forgive me,\" thought I, \"for not being more attentive to this\npoor child's case!\"  I seemed to feel the importance of infantine\ninstruction more than ever I had done before, and felt a rising hope that\nthis girl might prove a kind of first-fruits of my labours.\n\nI now recollected her quiet, orderly, diligent attendance on our little\nweekly meetings; and her marked approbation of the epitaph, as related in\nmy last paper, rushed into my thoughts.  \"I hope, I really hope,\" said I,\n\"this dear child will prove a true child of God.  And if so, what a mercy\nto her, and what a mercy for me!\"\n\n{Little Jane's Cottage: p137.jpg}\n\nThe next morning I went to see the child.  Her dwelling was of the\nhumblest kind.  It stood against a high bank of earth, which formed a\nsort of garden behind it.  It was so steep, that but little would grow in\nit; yet that little served to show not only, on the one hand, the poverty\nof its owners, but also to illustrate the happy truth, that even in the\nworst of circumstances the Lord does make a kind provision for the\nsupport of his creatures.  The front aspect of the cottage was chiefly\nrendered pleasing by a honeysuckle, which luxuriantly climbed up the\nwall, enclosing the door, windows, and even the chimney, with its twining\nbranches.  As I entered the house-door, its flowers put forth a very\nsweet and refreshing smell.  Intent on the object of my visit, I at the\nsame moment offered up silent prayer to God, and entertained a hope, that\nthe welcome fragrance of the shrub might be illustrative of that\nall-prevailing intercession of a Redeemer, which I trusted was, in the\ncase of this little child, as \"a sweet-smelling savour\" to her heavenly\nFather.  The very flowers and leaves of the garden and field are\nemblematical of higher things, when grace teaches us to make them so.\nJane was in bed upstairs.  I found no one in the house with her except\nthe woman who had brought me the message on the evening before.  The\ninstant I looked on the girl, I perceived a very marked change in her\ncountenance: it had acquired the consumptive hue, both white and red.  A\ndelicacy unknown to it before quite surprised me, owing to the alteration\nit produced in her look.  She received me first with a very sweet smile,\nand then instantly burst into a flood of tears, just sobbing out,--\n\n\"I am so glad to see you, sir!\"\n\n\"I am very much concerned at your being so ill, my child, and grieved\nthat I was not sooner aware of your state.  But I hope the Lord designs\nit for your good.\"  Her eye, not her tongue, powerfully expressed, \"I\nhope and think he does.\"\n\n\"Well, my poor child, since you can no longer come to see me, I will come\nand see you, and we will talk over the subjects which I have been used to\nexplain to you.\"\n\n\"Indeed, sir, I shall be so glad!\"\n\n\"That I believe she will,\" said the woman; \"for she loves to talk of\nnothing so much as what she has heard you say in your sermons, and in the\nbooks you have given her.\"\n\n\"Are you really desirous, my dear child, to be a true Christian?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, yes, sir; I am sure I desire that above all things.\"\n\nI was astonished and delighted at the earnestness and simplicity with\nwhich she spoke these words.\n\n\"Sir,\" added she, \"I have been thinking, as I lay on my bed for many\nweeks past, how good you are to instruct us poor children; what must\nbecome of us without it!\"\n\n\"I am truly glad to perceive that my instructions have not been lost upon\nyou, and pray God that this your present sickness may be an instrument of\nblessing in his hands to prove, humble, and sanctify you.  My dear child,\nyou have a soul, an immortal soul to think of; you remember what I have\noften said to you about the value of a soul: 'What shall it profit a man,\nif he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?'\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I remember well you told us, that when our bodies are put into\nthe grave, our souls will then go either to the good or the bad place.\"\n\n\"And to which of these places do you think that, as a sinner in the sight\nof God, you deserve to go?\"\n\n\"To the bad one, sir.\"\n\n\"What! to everlasting destruction!\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\"Why so?\"\n\n\"Because I am a great sinner.\"\n\n\"And must all great sinners go to hell?\"\n\n\"They all deserve it; and I am sure I do.\"\n\n\"But is there no way of escape?  Is there no way for a great sinner to be\nsaved?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, Christ is the Saviour.\"\n\n\"And whom does he save?\"\n\n\"All believers.\"\n\n\"And do you believe in Christ yourself?\"\n\n\"I do not know, sir; I wish I did; but I feel that I love him.\"\n\n\"What do you love him for?\"\n\n\"Because he is good to poor children's souls like mine.\"\n\n\"What has he done for you?\"\n\n\"He died for me, sir; and what could he do more?\"\n\n\"And what do you hope to gain by his death?\"\n\n\"A good place when I die, if I believe in him, and love him.\"\n\n\"Have you felt any uneasiness on account of your soul?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, sir, a great deal.  When you used to talk to us children on\nSaturdays, I often felt as if I could hardly bear it, and wondered that\nothers could seem so careless.  I thought I was not fit to die.  I\nthought of all the bad things I had ever done and said, and believed God\nmust be very angry with me; for you often told us, that God would not be\nmocked; and that Christ said, if we were not converted, we could not go\nto heaven.  Sometimes I thought I was so young it did not signify: and\nthen, again, it seemed to me a great sin to think so; for I knew I was\nold enough to see what was right and what was wrong; and so God had a\njust right to be angry when I did wrong.  Besides, I could see that my\nheart was not right; and how could such a heart be fit for heaven?\nIndeed, sir, I used to feel very uneasy.\"\n\n\"My dear Jenny, I wish I had known all this before.  Why did you never\ntell me about it?\"\n\n\"Sir, I durst not.  Indeed, I could not well say what was the matter with\nme: and I thought you would look upon me as very bold, if I had spoke\nabout myself to such a gentleman as you: yet I often wished that you knew\nwhat I felt and feared.  Sometimes, as we went away from your house, I\ncould not help crying; and then the other children laughed and jeered at\nme, and said I was going to be very good, they supposed, or at least to\nmake people think so.  Sometimes, sir, I fancied you did not think so\nwell of me as of the rest, and that hurt me; yet I knew I deserved no\nparticular favour, because I was the chief of sinners.\"\n\n\"My dear, what made St. Paul say he was chief of sinners?  In what verse\nof the Bible do you find this expression, 'the chief of sinners;' can you\nrepeat it?\"\n\n\"'This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ\nJesus came into the world to save sinners;'--is not that right, sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, my child, it is right; and I hope that the same conviction which\nSt. Paul had at that moment has made you sensible of the same truth.\nChrist came into the world to save sinners: my dear child, remember now\nand for ever more, that Christ came into the world to save the chief of\nsinners.\"\n\n\"Sir, I am so glad he did.  It makes me hope that he will save me, though\nI am a poor sinful girl.  Sir, I am very ill, and I do not think I shall\never get well again.  I want to go to Christ if I die.\"\n\n\"Go to Christ while you live, my dear child, and he will not cast you\naway when you die.  He that said, 'Suffer little children to come unto\nme,' waits to be gracious to them, and forbids them not.\"\n\n\"What made you first think so seriously about the state of your soul?\"\n\n\"Your talking about the graves in the churchyard, and telling us how many\nyoung children were buried there.  I remember you said, one day, near\ntwelve months ago, 'Children! where will you be a hundred years hence?\nChildren! where do you think you shall go when you die?  Children! if you\nwere to die to-night, are you sure you should go to Christ and be happy?'\nSir, I never shall forget your saying, 'Children,' three times together\nin that solemn way.\"\n\n\"Did you ever before that day feel any desire about your soul?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; I think I first had that desire almost as soon as you began to\nteach us on Saturday afternoons; but on that day I felt as I never did\nbefore.  I shall never forget it.  All the way as I went home, and all\nthat night, these words were in my thoughts: 'Children! where do you\nthink you shall go when you die?'  I thought I must leave off all my bad\nways, or where shall I go when I died?\"\n\n\"And what effect did these thoughts produce in your mind?\"\n\n\"Sir, I tried to live better, and I did leave off many bad ways; but the\nmore I strove, the more difficult I found it, my heart seemed so hard:\nand then I could not tell any one my case.\"\n\n\"Could not you tell it to the Lord, who hears and answers prayers?\"\n\n\"My prayers (here she blushed and sighed) are very poor at the best, and\nat that time I scarcely knew how to pray at all as I ought.  But I did\nsometimes ask the Lord for a better heart.\"\n\nThere was a character in all this conversation which marked a truly\nsincere and enlightened state of mind.  She spoke with all the simplicity\nof a child, and yet the seriousness of a Christian.  I could scarcely\npersuade myself that she was the same girl I had been accustomed to see\nin past time.  Her countenance was filled with interesting affections,\nand always spoke much more than her tongue could utter.  At the same time\nshe now possessed an ease and liberty in speaking, to which she had\nformerly been a stranger: nevertheless, she was modest, humble, and\nunassuming.  Her readiness to converse was the result of spiritual\nanxiety, not childish forwardness.  The marks of a Divine change were too\nprominent to be easily mistaken; and in this very child, I, for the first\ntime, witnessed the evident testimonies of such a change.  How\nencouraging, how profitable to my own soul!\n\n\"Sir,\" continued little Jane, \"I had one day been thinking that I was\nneither fit to live nor die: for I could find no comfort in this world,\nand I was sure I deserved none in the other.  On that day you sent me to\nlearn the verse on Mrs. B---'s headstone, and then I read that on the one\nnext to it.\"\n\n\"I very well remember it, Jenny; you came back, and repeated them both to\nme.\"\n\n\"There were two lines in it which made me think and meditate a great\ndeal.\"\n\n\"Which were they?\"\n\n   \"'Hail Glorious gospel! heavenly light, whereby\n   We live with comfort, and with comfort die.'\n\nI wished that glorious gospel was mine, that I might live and die with\ncomfort; and it seemed as if I thought it would be so.  I never felt so\nhappy in all my life before.  The words were often in my thoughts,--\n\n   'Live with comfort, and with comfort die.'\n\nGlorious gospel, indeed!  I thought.\"\n\n\"My dear child, what is the meaning of the word gospel?\"\n\n\"Good news.\"\n\n\"Good news for whom?\"\n\n\"For wicked sinners, sir.\"\n\n\"Who sends this good news for wicked sinners?\"\n\n\"The Lord Almighty.\"\n\n\"And who brings this good news?\"\n\n\"Sir, _you_ brought it to _me_.\"\n\nHere my soul melted in an instant, and I could not repress the tears\nwhich the emotion excited.  The last answer was equally unexpected and\naffecting.  I felt a father's tenderness and gratitude for a new and\nfirst-born child.\n\nJane wept likewise.\n\nAfter a little pause she said,--\n\n\"O sir!  I wish you would speak to my father, and mother, and little\nbrother; for I am afraid they are going on very badly.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"Sir, they drink, and swear, and quarrel, and do not like what is good;\nand it does grieve me so, I cannot bear it.  If I speak a word to them\nabout it, they are very angry, and laugh, and bid me be quiet, and not\nset up for their teacher.  Sir, I am ashamed to tell you this of them,\nbut I hope it is not wrong; I mean it for their good.\"\n\n\"I wish your prayers and endeavours for their sake may be blessed; I will\nalso do what I can.\"\n\nI then prayed with the child, and promised to visit her constantly.\n\nAs I returned home, my heart was filled with thankfulness for what I had\nseen and heard.  Little Jane appeared to be a first-fruits of my\nparochial and spiritual harvest.  This thought greatly comforted and\nstrengthened me in my ministerial prospects.\n\nMy partiality to the memory of little Jane will probably induce me to lay\nsome further particulars before the reader.\n\n\n\nPART III.\n\n\nDivine grace educates the reasoning faculties of the soul, as well as the\nbest affections of the heart; and happily consecrates them both to the\nglory of the Redeemer.  Neither the disadvantages of poverty, nor the\ninexperience of childhood, are barriers able to resist the mighty\ninfluences of the Spirit of God, when \"he goeth forth where he listeth.\"\n\n\"God hath chosen the foolish things of this world to confound the wise;\nand God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things\nwhich are mighty.\"  The truth of this scriptural assertion was peculiarly\nevident in the case of my young parishioner.\n\nLittle Jane's illness was of a lingering nature.  I often visited her.\nThe soul of this young Christian was gradually, but effectually,\npreparing for heaven.  I have seldom witnessed in any older person, under\nsimilar circumstances, stronger marks of earnest inquiry, continual\nseriousness, and holy affections.  One morning, as I was walking through\nthe church-yard, in my way to visit her, I stopped to look at the epitaph\nwhich had made such a deep impression on her mind.  I was struck with the\nreflection of the important consequences which might result from a more\nfrequent and judicious attention to the inscriptions placed in our\nburying-grounds, as memorials of the departed.  The idea occurred to my\nthoughts, that as the two stone tables given by God to Moses were once a\nmeans of communicating to the Jews, from age to age, the revelation of\nGod's will as concerning the law; so these funeral tables of stone may,\nunder a better dispensation, bear a never-failing proclamation of God's\nwill to sinners as revealed in the gospel of his grace, from generation\nto generation.  I have often lamented, when indulging a contemplation\namong the graves, that some of the inscriptions were coarse and\nridiculous; others, absurdly flattering; many, expressive of sentiments\nat variance with the true principles of the word of God; not a few,\nbarren and unaccompanied with a single word of useful instruction to the\nreader.  Thus a very important opportunity of conveying scriptural\nadmonition is lost.  I wish that every grave-stone might not only record\nthe name of our deceased friends, but also proclaim the name of Jesus, as\nthe only name given under heaven whereby men can be saved.  Perhaps, if\nthe ministers of religion were to interest themselves in this matter, and\naccustom their people to consult them as to the nature of the monumental\ninscriptions which they wish to introduce into churches and church-yards,\na gradual improvement would take place in this respect.  What is\noffensive, useless, or erroneous, would no longer find admittance, and a\nsuccession of valuable warning and consolation to the living would\nperpetuate the memory of the dead.\n\nWhat can be more disgusting than the too common spectacle of trifling\nlicentious travellers, wandering about the church-yards of the different\nplaces through which they pass, in search of rude, ungrammatical, ill-\nspelt, and absurd verses among the grave-stones; and this for the\ngratification of their unholy scorn and ridicule!  And yet how much is it\nto be deplored that such persons are seldom disappointed in finding many\ninstances which too readily afford them the unfeeling satisfaction which\nthey seek!  I therefore offer this suggestion to my reverend brethren,\nthat as no monument or stone can be placed in a church or church-yard\nwithout their express consent or approbation, whether one condition of\nthat consent being granted, should not be a previous inspection and\napproval of every inscription which may be so placed within the precincts\nof the sanctuary?\n\nThe reader will pardon this digression, which evidently arose from the\npeculiar connection established in little Jane's history, between an\nepitaph inscribed on a grave-stone, and the word of God inscribed on her\nheart.  When I arrived at Jane's cottage, I found her in bed, reading Dr.\nWatts' Hymns for Children, in which she took great pleasure.\n\n\"What are you reading this morning, Jane?\"\n\n\"Sir, I have been thinking very much about some verses in my little book.\nHere they are,--\n\n   'There is an hour when I must die,\n      Nor do I know how soon 'twill come;\n   A thousand children young as I\n      Are called by death to hear their doom.\n\n   Let me improve the hours I have,\n      Before the day of grace is fled;\n   There's no repentance in the grave,\n      Nor pardon offered to the dead.'\n\n\"Sir, I feel all that to be very true, and I am afraid I do not improve\nthe hours I have, as I ought to do.  I think I shall not live very long;\nand when I remember my sins, I say,--\n\n   'Lord, at thy feet ashamed I lie,\n      Upward I dare not look;\n   Pardon my sins before I die,\n      And blot them from thy book.'\n\nDo you think he will pardon me, sir?\"\n\n\"My dear child, I have great hopes that he HAS pardoned you; that he has\nheard your prayers, and put you into the number of his true children\nalready.  You have had strong proofs of his mercy to your soul.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I have, and I wish to love and bless him for it.  He is good,\n_very_ good.\"\n\nIt had for some time past occurred to my mind that a course of\n_regulated_ conversations on the first principles of religion would be\nvery desirable from time to time, for this interesting child's sake: and\nI thought the Church Catechism would be the best groundwork for that\npurpose.\n\n\"Jenny,\" said I, \"you can repeat the Catechism?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir; but I think that has been one of my sins in the sight of God.\"\n\n\"What! repeating your Catechism?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, in such a way as I used to do it.\"\n\n\"How was that?\"\n\n\"Very carelessly indeed.  I never thought about the meaning of the words,\nand that must be very wrong.  Sir, the Catechism is full of good things;\nI wish I understood them better.\"\n\n\"Well, then, my child, we will talk a little about those good things\nwhich, as you truly say, are contained in the Catechism.  Did you ever\nconsider what it is to be a member of Christ, a child of God, and an\ninheritor of the kingdom of heaven?\"\n\n\"I think, sir, I have lately considered it a good deal; and I want to be\nsuch, not only in name, but in deed and in truth.  You once told me, sir,\nthat 'as the branch is to the vine, and the stone to the building, and\nthe limb to the body and the head, so is a true believer to the Lord\nJesus Christ.'  But how am I to know that I belong to Christ as a true\n_member_, which, you said one day in the church, means the same as a\n_limb_ of the body, such as a leg or an arm?\"\n\n\"Do you love Christ now in a way you never used to do before?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think so indeed.\"\n\n\"Why do you love him?\"\n\n\"Because he first loved me.\"\n\n\"How do you know that he first loved you?\"\n\n\"Because he sent me instruction, and made me feel the sin of my heart,\nand taught me to pray for pardon, and love his ways; he sent you to teach\nme, sir, and to show me the way to be saved; and now I want to be saved\nin that way that he pleases.  Sometimes I feel as if I loved all that he\nhas said and done, so much, that I wish never to think about anything\nelse.  I know I did not use to feel so; and I think if he had not loved\nme first, my wicked heart would never have cared about him.  I once loved\nanything better than religion, but now it is everything to me.\"\n\n\"Do you believe in your heart that Christ is able and willing to save the\nchief of sinners?\"\n\n\"I do.\"\n\n\"And what are you?\"\n\n\"A young, but a great sinner.\"\n\n\"Is it not of his mercy that you know and feel yourself to be a sinner?\"\n\n\"Certainly; yes, it must be so.\"\n\n\"Do you earnestly desire to forsake all sin?\"\n\n\"If I know myself, I do.\"\n\n\"Do you feel a spirit within you resisting sin, and making you hate it?\"\n\n\"Yes, I hope so.\"\n\n\"Who gave you that spirit?  Were you always so?\"\n\n\"It must be Christ, who loved me, and gave himself for me.  I was quite\ndifferent once.\"\n\n\"Now, then, my dear Jane, does not all this show a connection between the\nLord Jesus Christ and your soul?  Does it not seem as if you lived, and\nmoved, and had a spiritual being from him?  Just as a limb is connected\nwith your body, and so with your head, and thereby gets power to live and\nmove through the flowing of the blood from the one to the other; so are\nyou spiritually a limb or member of Christ, if you believe in him, and\nthus obtain, through faith, a power to love him, and live to his praise\nand glory.  Do you understand me?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I believe I do; and it is very comfortable to my thoughts to\nlook up to Christ as a living Head, and to consider myself as the least\nand lowest of all his members.\"\n\n\"Now tell me what your thoughts are as to being a child of God.\"\n\n\"I am sure, sir, I do not deserve to be called his child.\"\n\n\"Can you tell me who _does_ deserve it?\"\n\n\"No one, sir.\"\n\n\"How, then, comes any one to be a child of God, when by nature we are\nchildren of wrath?\"\n\n\"By God's grace, sir.\"\n\n\"What does grace mean?\"\n\n\"Favour; free favour to sinners.\"\n\n\"Right; and what does God bestow upon the children of wrath, when he\nmakes them children of grace?\"\n\n\"A death unto sin, and a new birth unto righteousness; is it not, sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, this is the fruit of Christ's redeeming love; and I hope _you_ are\na partaker of the blessing.  The family of God is named after him, and he\nis the first-born of many brethren.  What a mercy that Christ calls\nhimself 'a _Brother_!'  My little girl, he is _your_ Brother; and will\nnot be ashamed to own you, and present you to his Father at the last day,\nas one that he has purchased with his blood.\"\n\n\"I wish I could love my Father and my Brother which are in heaven better\nthan I do.  Lord be merciful to me a sinner!  I think, sir, if I am a\nchild of God, I am often a rebellious one.  He shows kindness to me\nbeyond others, and yet I make a very poor return.\n\n   'Are these thy favours day by day,\n      To me above the rest?\n   Then let me love thee more than they,\n      And strive to serve thee best.'\"\n\n\"That will be the best way to approve yourself a real child of God.  Show\nyour love and thankfulness to such a Father, who hath prepared for you an\ninheritance among the saints in light, and made you 'an inheritor of the\nkingdom of heaven, as well as a member of Christ, and a child of God.'  Do\nyou know what 'the kingdom of heaven' means?\"\n\nJust at that instant her mother entered the house below, and began to\nspeak to a younger child in a passionate, scolding tone of voice,\naccompanied by some very offensive language; but quickly stopped on\nhearing us in conversation up stairs.\n\n\"Ah, my poor mother!\" said the girl, \"you would not have stopped so\nshort, if Mr. --- had not been here.  Sir, you hear how my mother swears;\npray say something to her; she will not hear me.\"\n\nI went towards the stair-head, and called to the woman; but ashamed at\nthe thought of my having probably overheard her expressions, she suddenly\nleft the house, and for that time escaped reproof.\n\n\"Sir,\" said little Jane, \"I am so afraid, if I go to heaven I shall never\nsee my poor mother there.  I wish I may, but she does swear so, and keep\nsuch bad company.  As I lie here a-bed, sir, for hours together, there is\noften so much wickedness, and noise, and quarrelling down below, that I\ndo not know how to bear it.  It comes very near, sir, when one's father\nand mother go on so.  I want them all to turn to the Lord, and go to\nheaven.--Tell me now, sir, something about being an inheritor of the\nkingdom of heaven.\"\n\n\"You may remember, my child, what I have told you when explaining the\nCatechism in the church, that the 'kingdom of heaven' in the Scripture\nmeans the church of Christ upon earth, as well as the state of glory in\nheaven.  The one is a preparation for the other.  All true Christians are\nheirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ, and shall inherit the glory\nand happiness of his kingdom, and live with Christ and be with him for\never.  This is the free gift of God to his adopted children; and all that\nbelieve aright in Christ shall experience the truth of that promise, 'It\nis your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.'  You are a poor\ngirl now, but I trust 'an entrance shall be ministered unto you\nabundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus\nChrist.'  You suffer now; but are you not willing to suffer for his sake,\nand to bear patiently those things to which he calls you?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, very willing; I would not complain.  It is all right.\"\n\n\"Then, my dear, you shall reign with him.  Through much tribulation you\nmay, perhaps, enter into the kingdom of God; but tribulation worketh\npatience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope.  As a true\n'member of Christ,' show yourself to be a dutiful 'child of God,' and\nyour portion will be that of an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.\nFaithful is He that hath promised.  Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust\nalso in him; and he shall bring it to pass.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir, I do so love to hear of these things.  And I think, sir,\nI should not love them so much if I had no part in them.  Sir, there is\none thing I want to ask you.  It is a great thing, and I may be wrong--I\nam so young--and yet I hope I mean right--\"\n\nHere she hesitated and paused.\n\n\"What is it?  Do not be fearful of mentioning it.\"  A tear rolled down\nher cheek--a slight blush coloured her countenance.  She lifted up her\neyes to heaven for a moment, and then, fixing them on me with a solemn,\naffecting look, said,--\n\n\"May so young a poor child as I am be admitted to the Lord's Supper?  I\nhave for some time wished it, but dared not to mention it, for fear you\nshould think it wrong.\"\n\n\"My dear Jenny, I have no doubt respecting it, and shall be very glad to\nconverse with you on the subject, and hope that He who has given you the\ndesire, will bless his own ordinance to your soul.  Would you wish it now\nor to-morrow?\"\n\n\"To-morrow, if you please, sir;--will you come to-morrow and talk to me\nabout it? and if you think it proper, I shall be thankful.  I am growing\nfaint now--I hope to be better when you come again.\"\n\nI was much pleased with her proposal, and rejoiced in the prospect of\nseeing so young and sincere a Christian thus devote herself to the Lord,\nand receive the sacramental seal of a Saviour's love to her soul.\n\nDisease was making rapid inroads upon her constitution, and she was aware\nof it.  But as the outward man decayed, she was strengthened with might,\nby God's Spirit in the inner man.  She was evidently ripening fast for a\nbetter world.\n\nI remember these things with affectionate pleasure; they revive my\nearlier associations, and I hope the recollection does me good.  I wish\nthem to do good to thee likewise, my reader; and therefore I write them\ndown.\n\nMay the simplicity that is in Christ render\n\n   \"The short and simple annals of the poor\"\n\na mean of grace and blessing to thy soul!  Out of the mouth of this babe\nand suckling may God ordain thee strength!  If thou art willing, thou\nmayest perchance hear something further respecting her.\n\n\n\nPART IV.\n\n\nI was so much affected with my last visit to little Jane, and\nparticularly with her tender anxiety respecting the Lord's Supper, that\nit formed the chief subject of my thoughts for the remainder of the day.\nI rode in the afternoon to a favourite spot, where I sometimes indulged\nin solitary meditation; where I wished to reflect on the interesting case\nof my little disciple.\n\nIt was a place well suited for such a purpose.\n\nIn the widely sweeping curve of a beautiful bay, there is a kind of chasm\nor opening in one of the lofty cliffs which bound it.  This produces a\nvery romantic and striking effect.  The steep descending sides of this\nopening in the cliff are covered with trees, bushes, wild flowers, fern,\nwormwood, and many other herbs, here and there contrasted with bold\nmasses of rock or brown earth.\n\nIn the higher part of one of those declivities two or three picturesque\ncottages are fixed, and seem half suspended in the air.\n\nFrom the upper extremity of this great fissure, or opening in the cliff,\na small stream of water enters by a cascade, flows through the bottom,\nwinding in a varied course of about a quarter of a mile in length; and\nthen runs into the sea across a smooth expanse of firm, hard sand, at the\nlower extremity of the chasm.  At this point, the sides of the woody\nbanks are very lofty, and, to a spectator from the bottom, exhibit a\nmixture of the grand and beautiful not often exceeded.\n\nNear the mouth of this opening was a little hollow recess, or cave in the\ncliff, from whence, on one hand, I could see the above-described romantic\nscene; on the other, a long train of perpendicular cliffs, terminating in\na bold and wild-shaped promontory, which closed the bay at one end, while\na conspicuous white cliff stood directly opposite, about four miles\ndistant, at the further point of the bay.\n\nThe shore, between the different cliffs and the edge of the waves, was in\nsome parts covered with stones and shingle; in some, with firm sand; and\nin others, with irregular heaps of little rocks fringed with sea-weed,\nand ornamented with small yellow shells.\n\nThe cliffs themselves were diversified with strata of various-coloured\nearth, black, yellow, brown, and orange.  The effects of iron ore,\nproducing very manifest changes of hue, were everywhere seen in trickling\ndrops and streamlets down the sides.\n\nThe huts in which the fishermen kept their baskets, nets, boats, and\nother implements, occupied a few retired spots on the shore.\n\nThe open sea, in full magnificence, occupied the centre of the prospect;\nbounded, indeed, in one small part, by a very distant shore, on the\nrising ascent from which the rays of the sun rendered visible a cathedral\nchurch, with its towering spire, at near thirty miles' distance.\nEverywhere else the sea beyond was limited only by the sky.\n\nA frigate was standing into the bay, not very far from my recess; other\nvessels of every size, sailing in many directions, varied the scene, and\nfurnished matter for a thousand sources of contemplation.\n\nAt my feet the little rivulet, gently rippling over pebbles, soon mingled\nwith the sand, and was lost in the waters of the mighty ocean.  The\nmurmuring of the waves, as the tide ebbed or flowed, on the sand; their\ndashing against some more distant rocks, which were covered fantastically\nwith sea-weed and shells; sea-birds floating in the air aloft, or\noccasionally screaming from their holes in the cliffs; the hum of human\nvoices in the ships and boats, borne along the water: all these sounds\nserved to promote, rather than interrupt, meditation.  They were\nsoothingly blended together, and entered the ear in a kind of natural\nharmony.\n\nIn the quiet enjoyment of a scene like this, the lover of nature's\nbeauties will easily find scope for spiritual illustration.\n\nHere I sat and mused over the interesting character and circumstances of\nlittle Jane.  Here I prayed that God would effectually teach me those\ntruths which I ought to teach her.\n\nWhen I thought of her youth, I blushed to think how superior she was to\nwhat I well remember myself to have been at the same age; nay, how far my\nsuperior at that very time.  I earnestly desired to catch something of\nthe spirit which appeared so lovely in her; for, simple, teachable, meek,\nhumble yet earnest in her demeanour, she bore living marks of heavenly\nteaching.\n\n\"The Lord,\" thought I, \"has called this little child, and set her in the\nmidst of us, as a parable, a pattern, an emblem.  And he saith, 'Verily,\nexcept ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter\ninto the kingdom of heaven.'  Oh that I may be humble as this little\nchild!\"\n\nI was thus led into a deep self-examination, and was severely exercised\nwith fear and apprehension, whether I was myself a real partaker of those\ndivine influences which I could so evidently discover in her.  Sin\nappeared to me just then to be more than ever \"exceeding sinful.\"  Inward\nand inbred corruptions made me tremble.  The danger of self-deception in\nso great a matter alarmed me.  I was a teacher of others; but was I\nindeed spiritually taught myself?\n\nA spirit of anxious inquiry ran through every thought: I looked at the\nmanifold works of creation around me; I perceived the greatest marks of\nregularity and order; but _within_ I felt confusion and disorder.\n\n\"The waves of the sea,\" thought I, \"ebb and flow in exact obedience to\nthe law of their Creator.  Thus far they come, and no further--they\nretire again to their accustomed bounds; and so maintain a regulated\nsuccession of effects.\n\n\"But, alas! the waves of passion and affection in the human breast\nmanifest more of the wild confusion of a storm, than the orderly\nregularity of a tide.  Grace only can subdue them.\n\n\"What peaceful harmony subsists throughout all this lovely landscape!\nThese majestic cliffs, some clothed with trees and shrubs; others bare\nand unadorned with herbage, yet variegated with many-coloured earths;\nthese are not only sublime and delightful to behold, but they are\nanswering the end of their creation, and serve as a barrier to stop the\nprogress of the waves.\n\n\"But how little peace and harmony can I comparatively see in my own\nheart!  The landscape _within_ is marred by dreary, barren wilds, and\nwants that engaging character which the various parts of this prospect\nbefore me so happily preserve.  Sin, sin is the bane of mortality, and\nheaps confusion upon confusion, wherever it prevails.\n\n\"Yet, saith the voice of Promise, 'Sin shall not have dominion over you.'\nOh, then, 'may I yield myself unto God, as one that am alive from the\ndead, and my members as instruments of righteousness unto God!'  And thus\nmay I become an able and willing minister of the New Testament!\n\n\"I wish I were like this little stream of water.  It takes its first rise\nscarcely a mile off; yet it has done good even in that short course.  It\nhas passed by several cottages in its way, and afforded life and health\nto the inhabitants; it has watered their little gardens as it flows, and\nenriched the meadows near its banks.  It has satisfied the thirst of the\nflocks that are feeding aloft on the hills, and perhaps refreshed the\nshepherd's boy who sits watching his master's sheep hard by.  It then\nquietly finishes its current in this secluded dell, and, agreeably to the\ndesign of its Creator, quickly vanishes in the ocean.\n\n\"May _my_ course be like unto thine, thou little rivulet!  Though short\nbe my span of life, yet may I be useful to my fellow-sinners as I travel\nonwards!  Let me be a dispenser of spiritual support and health to many!\nLike this stream, may I prove 'the poor man's friend' by the way, and\nwater the souls that thirst for the river of life, wherever I meet them!\nAnd if it please thee, O my God, let me in my latter end be like this\nbrook.  It calmly, though not quite silently, flows through this scene of\npeace and loveliness, just before it enters the sea.  Let me thus gently\nclose my days likewise; and may I not unusefully tell to others of the\ngoodness and mercy of our Saviour, till I arrive at the vast ocean of\neternity!\n\n\"Thither,\" thought I, \"little Jane is fast hastening.  Short, but not\nuseless, has been _her_ course.  I feel the great importance of it in my\nown soul at this moment.  I view a work of mercy _there_, to which I do\nhope I am not quite a stranger in the experience of my own heart.  The\nthought enlivens my spirit, and leads me to see that, great as is the\npower of sin the power of Jesus is greater; and, through grace, I _may_\nmeet my dear young disciple, my child in the gospel, my sister in the\nfaith, in a brighter, a better world hereafter.\"\n\nThere was something in the whole of this meditation which calmed and\nprepared my mind for my promised visit the next day.  I looked forward to\nit with affectionate anxiety.\n\nIt was now time to return homewards.  The sun was setting.  The\nlengthened shadows of the cliffs, and of the hills towering again far\nabove them, cast a brown but not unpleasing tint over the waters of the\nbay.  Further on the beams of the sun still maintained their splendour.\nSome of the sails of the distant ships, enlivened by its rays, appeared\nlike white spots in the blue horizon, and seemed to attract my notice, as\nif to claim at least the passing prayer, \"God speed the mariners on their\nvoyage.\"\n\nI quitted my retreat in the cliff with some reluctance; but with a state\nof mind, as I hoped, solemnized by reflection, and animated to fresh\nexertion.\n\nI walked up by a steep pathway, that winded through the trees and shrubs\non the sides of one of the precipices.  At every step the extent of\nprospect enlarged, and acquired a new and varying character, by being\nseen through the trees on each side.  Climbing up a kind of rude,\ninartificial set of stone stairs in the bank, I passed by the singularly\nsituated cottages which I had viewed from beneath; received and returned\nthe evening salutation of the inhabitants, sitting at their doors, and\njust come home from labour; till I arrived at the top of the precipice,\nwhere I had left my horse tied to a gate.\n\nCould _he_ have enjoyed it, he had a noble prospect around him in every\ndirection from this elevated point of view, where he had been stationed\nwhile I was on the shore below.  But wherein he most probably failed I\nthink his rider did not.  The landscape, taken in connection with my\nrecent train of thought about myself and little Jane, inspired devotion.\n\nThe sun was now set: the bright colours of the western clouds, faintly\nreflected from the south-eastern hills, that were unseen from my retreat\nin the cliff, or only perceived by their evening shadows on the sea, now\nadded to the beauty of the prospect on the south and west.  Every element\ncontributed to the interesting effect of the scenery.  The _earth_ was\ndiversified in shape and ornament.  The _waters_ of the ocean presented a\nnoble feature in the landscape.  The _air_ was serene, or only ruffled by\na refreshing breeze from the shore.  And the sun's _fiery_ beams, though\ndeparting for the night, still preserved such a portion of light and\nwarmth as rendered all the rest delightful to an evening traveller.  From\nthis point the abyss, occasioned by the great fissure in the cliff,\nappeared grand and interesting.  Trees hung over it on each side,\nprojecting not only their branches, but many of their roots in wild and\nfantastic forms.  Masses of earth had recently fallen from the upper to\nthe lower parts of the precipice, carrying trees and plants down the\nsteep descent.  The character of the soil and the unceasing influence of\nthe stream at the bottom, seemed to threaten further slips of the land\nfrom the summit.  From hence the gentle murmur of the cascade at the head\nof the chine stole upon the ear without much interruption to the\nquietness of the scene.  A fine rocky cliff, half buried in trees, stood\nerect on the land side about a mile distant, and seemed to vie with those\non the shore in challenging the passenger's attention.  In the distance\nstood a noble ash-tree, which, on a considerable height, majestically\nreigned as the patriarch of the grove near which it grew.  Every object\ncombined to please the eye and direct the traveller's heart to admire and\nlove the Author and Creator of all that is beautiful to sense and\nedifying to the soul.\n\nThe next morning I went to Jane's cottage.  On entering the door, the\nwoman, who so frequently visited her, met me, and said:--\n\n\"Perhaps, sir, you will not wake her just yet; for she has dropped\nasleep, and she seldom gets much rest, pool girl!\"\n\nI went gently up stairs.\n\nThe child was in a half-sitting posture, leaning her head upon her right\nhand, with her Bible open before her.  She had evidently fallen asleep\nwhile reading.  Her countenance was beautifully composed and tranquil.  A\nfew tears had rolled down her cheek, and (probably unknown to her)\ndropped upon the pages of her book.\n\nI looked around me for a moment.  The room was outwardly comfortless and\nuninviting: the walls out of repair; the sloping roof somewhat shattered;\nthe floor broken and uneven; no furniture but two tottering bedsteads, a\nthree-legged stool, and an old oak chest; the window broken in many\nplaces, and mended with patches of paper.  A little shelf against the\nwall, over the bedstead where Jane lay, served for her physic, her food,\nand her books.\n\n\"Yet _here_,\" I said to myself, \"lies an heir of glory, waiting for a\nhappy dismissal.  Her earthly home is poor, indeed; but she has a house\nnot made with hands, eternal in the heavens.  She has little to attach\nher to this world; but what a weight of glory in the world to come!  This\nmean, despised chamber is a palace in the eye of faith, for it contains\none that is inheritor of a crown.\"\n\nI approached without waking her, and observed that she had been reading\nthe twenty-third chapter of St. Luke.  The finger of her left hand lay\nupon the book, pointing to the words, as if she had been using it to\nguide her eye whilst she read.\n\nI looked at the place, and was pleased at the apparently casual\ncircumstance of her finger pointing at these words:--\n\n\"Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.\"\n\n\"Is this casual or designed?\" thought I.  \"Either way it is remarkable.\"\n\nBut in another moment I discovered that her finger was indeed an index to\nthe thoughts of her heart.\n\nShe half awoke from her dozing state, but not sufficiently so to perceive\nthat any person was present, and said in a kind of whisper:--\n\n\"Lord, remember me--remember me--remember--remember a poor child--Lord,\nremember me--\"\n\nShe then suddenly started and perceived me, as she became fully awake.  A\nfaint blush overspread her cheeks for a moment, and then disappeared.\n\n\"Dame K---, how long have I been asleep?--Sir, I am very sorry--\"\n\n\"And I am very glad to find you thus,\" I replied.  \"You may say with\nDavid, 'I laid me down and slept: I awaked, for the Lord sustained me.'\nWhat were you reading?\"\n\n\"The history of the crucifying of Jesus, sir.\"\n\n\"How far had you read when you fell asleep?\"\n\n\"To the prayer of the thief that was crucified with him; and when I came\nto that place I stopped, and thought what a mercy it would be if the Lord\nJesus, should remember me likewise--and so I fell asleep; and I fancied\nin my dream that I saw Christ upon the cross; and I thought I said,\n'Lord, remember me;' and I am sure he did not look angry upon me--and\nthen I awoke.\"\n\nAll this seemed to be a sweet commentary on the text, and a most suitable\nforerunner of our intended sacramental service.\n\n\"Well, my dear child, I am come, as you wished me, to administer the\nsacrament of the body and blood of our blessed Saviour to you; and I\ndaresay neighbour K--- will be glad to join us.\"\n\n\"Talk to me a little about it first, sir, if you please.\"\n\n\"You remember what you have learned in your Catechism about it.  Let us\nconsider.  A sacrament, you know, is 'an outward and visible sign of an\ninward and spiritual grace, given unto us, ordained by Christ himself, as\na means whereby we receive the same, and a pledge to assure us thereof.'\nNow the Lord has ordained bread and wine in the holy supper, as the\noutward mark, which we behold with our eyes.  It is a sign, a token, a\nseal of his love, grace, and blessing, which he promises to, and bestows\non, all who receive it, rightly believing on his name and work.  He in\nthis manner preserves amongst us a 'continual remembrance of his death,\nand of the benefits which we receive thereby.'\"\n\n\"What do you believe respecting the death of Christ, Jenny?\"\n\n\"That because he died, sir, we live.\"\n\n\"What life do we live thereby?\"\n\n\"The life of grace and mercy _now_, and the life of glory and happiness\nhereafter; is it not, sir?\"\n\n\"Yes, assuredly: this is the fruit of the death of Christ, and thus he\n'opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers.'  As bread and wine\nstrengthen and refresh your poor, weak, fainting body in this very\nsickness, so does the blessing of his body and blood strengthen and\nrefresh the souls of all that repose their faith, hope, and affections on\nhim who loved us and gave himself for us.\"\n\nTears ran down her cheeks as she said,--\n\n\"Oh, what a Saviour!  Oh, what a sinner!  How kind! how good!  And is\nthis for me?\"\n\n\"Fear not, dear child.  He that has made you to love him thus, loves you\ntoo well to deny you.  He will in no wise cast out any that come to him.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the girl, \"I can never think about Jesus and his love to\nsinners, without wondering how it can be.  I deserve nothing but his\nanger on account of my sins.  Why then does he love me?  My heart is\nevil.  Why then does he love me?  I continually forget all his goodness.\nWhy then does he love me?  I neither pray to him, nor thank him, nor do\nanything as I ought to do.  Why then such love to me?\"\n\n\"How plain it is that all is mercy from first to last! and that sweetens\nthe blessing, my child.  Are you not willing to give Christ all the\nhonour of your salvation, and to take all the blame of your sins on your\nown self?\"\n\n\"Yes, indeed, sir, I am.  My hymn says,--\n\n   'Blest be the Lord, that sent his Son\n      To take our flesh and blood;\n   He for our lives gave up his own,\n      To make our peace with God.\n\n   'He honoured all his Father's laws,\n      Which we have disobeyed;\n   He bore our sins upon the cross,\n      And our full ransom paid.'\"\n\n\"I am glad you remember your hymns so well, Jenny.\"\n\n\"Sir, you don't know what pleasure they give me.  I am very glad you gave\nme that little book of Hymns for Children.\"\n\nA severe fit of coughing interrupted her speech for a while.  The woman\nheld her head.  It was distressing to observe her struggle for breath,\nand almost, as it were, for life.\n\n\"Poor dear!\" said the woman; \"I wish I could help thee, and ease thy\npains; but they will not last for ever.\"\n\n\"God helps me,\" said the girl, recovering her breath; \"God helps me--he\nwill carry me through.  Sir, you look frightened.  I am not afraid--this\nis nothing--I am better now.  Thank you, dame, thank you.  I am very\ntroublesome; but the Lord will bless you for this and all your kindness\nto me: yes, sir, and yours too.  Now talk to me again about the\nsacrament.\"\n\n\"What is required, Jenny, of them who come to the Lord's Supper?  There\nare five things named in the Catechism; do you remember what is the\nfirst?\"\n\nShe paused, and then said, with a solemn and intelligent look,--\n\n\"To examine themselves whether they repent them truly of their former\nsins.\"\n\n\"I hope and think that you know what this means, Jenny.  The Lord has\ngiven you the spirit of repentance.\"\n\n\"No one knows, sir, what the thoughts of past sin have been to me.  Yes,\nthe Lord knows, and that is enough; and I hope he forgives me for\nChrist's sake.  His blood cleanseth from all sin.  Sir, I sometimes think\nof my sins till I tremble, and it makes me cry to think that I have\noffended such a God; and then he comforts me again with sweet thoughts\nabout Christ.\"\n\n\"It is well, my child--be it so.  The next thing mentioned in that\narticle of your Catechism, what is it?\"\n\n\"Steadfastly purposing to lead a new life.\"\n\n\"And what do you think of that?\"\n\n\"My life, sir, will be a short one; and I wish it had been a better one.\nBut from my heart I desire that it may be a _new_ one for the time to\ncome.  I want to forsake all my evil ways and thoughts, and evil words,\nand evil companions; and to do what God bids me, and what you tell me is\nright, sir, and what I read of in my Bible.  But I am afraid I do not, my\nheart is so full of sin.  However, sir, I pray to God to help me.  My\ndays will be few; but I wish they may be spent to the glory of God.\"\n\n\"The blessing of the Lord be upon you, Jane; so that whether you live,\nyou may live to the Lord; or whether you die, you may die unto the Lord;\nand that, living or dying, you may be the Lord's.  What is the next thing\nmentioned?\"\n\n\"To have a lively faith in God's mercy through Christ, sir.\"\n\n\"Do you believe that God is merciful to you in the pardon of your sins?\"\n\n\"I do, sir,\" said the child earnestly.\n\n\"And if he pardons you, is it for your own sake, Jenny?\"\n\n\"No, sir, no; it is for Christ's sake--for my Saviour Jesus Christ's\nsake, and that only.  Christ is all.\"\n\n\"Can you trust him?\"\n\n\"Sir, I must not mistrust him; nor would I, if I might.\"\n\n\"Right, child; he is worthy of all your trust.\"\n\n\"And then, sir, I am to have a thankful remembrance of his death.  I can\nnever think of his dying, but I think also what a poor unworthy creature\nI am; and yet he is so good to me.  I wish I _could_ thank him--sir, I\nhave been reading about his death--how could the people do as they did to\nhim?--but it was all for our salvation.  And the thief on the cross--that\nis beautiful.  I hope he will remember me too, and that I shall always\nremember him and his death most thankfully.\"\n\n\"And lastly, Jenny, are you in charity with all men?  Do you forgive all\nthat have offended you?  Do you bear ill-will in your heart to anybody?\"\n\n\"Dear sir, no! how can I?  If God is good to me, if he forgives me, how\ncan I help forgiving others?  There is not a person in all the world, I\nthink, sir, that I do not wish well to for Christ's sake, and that from\nthe bottom of my heart.\"\n\n\"How do you feel towards those bold, wanton, ill-tempered girls at the\nnext door, who jeer and mock you so about your religion?\"\n\n\"Sir, the worst thing I wish them is, that God may give them grace to\nrepent; that he may change their hearts, and pardon all their wicked ways\nand words.  May he forgive them, as I do with all my soul!\"\n\nShe ceased--I wished to ask no more.  My heart was full.  \"Can this be\nthe religion of a child?\" thought I.  \"O that we were all children like\nher!\"\n\n\"Reach me that prayer-book, and the cup and plate.  My dear friends, I\nwill now, with God's blessing, partake with you in the holy communion of\nour Lord's body and blood.\"\n\nThe time was sweet and solemn.  I went through the sacramental service.\n\nThe countenance and manner of the child evinced powerful feelings.  Tears\nmingled with smiles--resignation brightened by hope--humility animated by\nfaith--a child-like modesty adorned with the understanding of a riper\nage--gratitude, peace, devotion, patience--all these were visible.  I\nthought I distinctly saw them all--and did _I_ alone see them?  Is it too\nmuch to say that other created beings, whom I could not behold with my\nnatural eyes, were witnesses of the scene?\n\nIf ministering angels do ascend and descend with glad tidings between\nearth and heaven, I think they did so then.\n\nWhen I had concluded the service, I said,--\n\n\"Now, my dear Jane, you are indeed become a sister in the Church of\nChrist.  May his Spirit and blessing rest upon you, strengthen and\nrefresh you!\"\n\n\"My mercies are great, very great, sir; greater than I can express.  I\nthank you for this favour--I thought I was too young--it seemed too much\nfor me to think of; but I am now sure the Lord is good to me, and I hope\nI have done right.\"\n\n\"Yes, Jenny; and I trust you are both outwardly and inwardly _sealed_ by\nthe Holy Ghost to the day of redemption.\"\n\n\"Sir, I shall never forget this day.\"\n\n\"Neither, I think, shall I.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" said the good old woman; \"sure the Lord has been in the midst of\nus three to-day, while we have been gathered together in his name.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the child, \"I wish you could speak to my mother when you come\nagain.  But she keeps out of your sight.  I am so grieved about her soul,\nand I am afraid she cares nothing at all about it herself.\"\n\n\"I hope I shall have an opportunity the next time I come.  Farewell, my\nchild.\"\n\n\"Good-bye, sir; and I thank you for all your kindness to me.\"\n\n\"Surely,\" I thought within myself as I left the cottage, \"this young bud\nof grace will bloom beauteously in paradise!  The Lord transplant her\nthither in his own good time.  Yet, if it be his will, may she live a\nlittle longer, that I may further profit by her conversation and\nexample!\"\n\nPossibly, some who peruse these simple records of poor little Jane may\nwish the same.  If it be so, we will visit her again before she departs\nhence and is no more seen.\n\n\n\nPART V.\n\n\nJane was hastening fast to her dissolution.  She still, however,\npreserved sufficient strength to converse with much satisfaction to\nherself and those who visited her.  Such as could truly estimate the\nvalue of her spiritual state of mind were but few; yet the most careless\ncould not help being struck with her affectionate seriousness, her\nknowledge of the Scriptures, and her happy application of them to her own\ncase.\n\n   \"The holy spark divine,\"\n\nwhich regenerating grace had implanted in her life, had kindled a flame\nwhich warmed and animated the beholder.  To _some_, I am persuaded, her\nexample and conversation were made a blessing.  Memory reflects with\ngratitude, whilst I write, on the profit and consolation which I\nindividually derived from her society.  Nor I alone.  The last day will,\nif I err not, disclose further fruits, resulting from the love of God to\nthis little child, and, through her, to others that saw her.  And may not\nhope indulge the prospect, that this simple memorial of her history shall\nbe as one arrow drawn from the quiver of the Almighty to reach the hearts\nof the young and the thoughtless?  Direct its course, O my God!  May the\neye that reads, and the ear that hears, the record of little Jane,\nthrough the power of the Spirit of the Most High, each become the witness\nfor the truth as it is in Jesus!\n\nI remembered the tender solicitude of this dear child for her mother.  I\nwell knew what an awful contrast the dispositions and conduct of her\nparents exhibited, when compared with her own.\n\nI resolved to avail myself of the first opportunity I could seize to\nspeak to the mother in the child's presence.  The woman had latterly\navoided me, conscious of deserving, and fearful of receiving reproof.  The\nroad by which I usually approached the house lay, for some little\ndistance, sufficiently in sight of its windows to enable the woman to\nretire out of the way before I arrived.  There was, however, another\npath, through fields at the back of the village, which, owing to the\nsituation of the ground, allowed of an approach unperceived, till a\nvisitor reached the very cottage itself.\n\nOne morning, soon after the sacramental interview related in my last\npaper, I chose _this_ road for my visit.  It was preferable to me on\nevery account.  The distance was not quite half a mile from my house.  The\npath was retired.  I hereby avoided the noise and interruption which even\na village street will sometimes present, to disturb the calmness of\ninteresting meditation.\n\nAs I passed through the churchyard, and cast my eye on the memorable\nepitaph, \"Soon,\" I thought within me, \"will my poor little Jane mingle\nher mouldering remains with this dust, and sleep with her fathers!  Soon\nwill the youthful tongue, which now lisps hosannas to the Son of David,\nand delights my heart with evidences of early piety and grace, be silent\nin the earth!  Soon shall I be called to commit her 'body to the ground,\nearth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.'  But oh, what a glorious\nchange!  Her spirit shall have then returned to God who gave it.  Her\nsoul will be joining the halleluiahs of paradise, while we sing her\nrequiem at the grave.  And her very dust shall here wait, in sure and\ncertain hope of a joyful resurrection from the dead.\"\n\nI went through the fields without meeting a single individual.  I enjoyed\nthe retirement of my solitary walk.  Various surrounding objects\ncontributed to excite useful meditation connected with the great subjects\nof time and eternity.  Here and there a drooping flower reminded me of\nthe fleeting nature of mortal life.  Sometimes a shady spot taught me to\nlook to Him who is a \"shadow in the day-time from the heat, and for a\nplace of refuge, and for a covert from storm and from rain.\"  If a worm\ncrept across my path, I saw an emblem of myself as I am _now_; and the\nwinged insects, fluttering in the sunbeams, led me comparatively to\nreflect on what I hoped to be _hereafter_.\n\nThe capacious mansion of a rich neighbour appeared on the right hand as I\nwalked; on my left were the cottages of the poor.  The church spire\npointing to heaven a little beyond, seemed to say to both the rich and\nthe poor, \"Set your affection on things above, not on things on the\nearth.\"  All these objects afforded me useful meditation; and all\nobtained an increased value as such, because they lay in my road to the\nhouse of little Jane.\n\nI was now arrived at the stile nearly adjoining her dwelling.  The upper\nwindow was open, and I soon distinguished the sound of voices--I was glad\nto hear that of the mother.  I entered the house door unperceived by\nthose above stairs, and sat down below, not wishing as yet to interrupt a\nconversation which quickly caught my ear.\n\n\"Mother! mother!  I have not long to live.  My time will be very short.\nBut I must, indeed I must, say something for your sake, before I die.  O\nmother! you have a soul--you have a soul; and what will become of it when\nyou die?  O my mother!  I am so uneasy about your soul--\"\n\n\"Oh, dear!  I shall lose my child--she will die--and what shall I do when\nyou are gone, my Jenny?\"  She sobbed aloud.\n\n\"Mother, think about your soul.  Have you not neglected that?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have been a wicked creature, and hated all that was good.  What\ncan I do?\"\n\n\"Mother, you must pray to God to pardon you for Christ's sake.  You must\npray.\"\n\n\"Jenny, my child, I cannot pray: I never did pray in all my life.  I am\ntoo wicked to pray.\"\n\n\"Mother, I have been wanting to speak to you a long time; but I was\nafraid to do it.  You did not like me to say anything about religion, and\nI did not know how to begin.  But indeed, mother, I must speak now, or it\nmay be too late.  I wish Mr. --- was here, for he could talk to you\nbetter than I can.  But perhaps you will think of what I say, poor as it\nis, when I am dead.  I am but a young child, and not fit to speak about\nsuch things to anybody.  But, mother, you belong to me, and I cannot bear\nto think of your perishing for ever.  My Lord and Saviour has shown me my\nown sin and corruptions: he loved me, and gave himself for me: he died,\nand he rose again: I want to praise him for it for ever and ever.  I hope\nI shall see him in heaven; but I want to see you there too, mother.  Do,\npray do, leave off swearing, and other bad ways: go to church, and hear\nour minister speak about Jesus Christ, and what he has done for wicked\nsinners.  He wishes well to souls.  He taught me the way, and he will\nteach you, mother.  Why did you always go out of the house when he was\ncoming?  Do not be angry with me, mother; I only speak for your good.  I\nwas once as careless as you are about the things of God.  But I have seen\nmy error.  I was in the broad road leading to destruction, like many\nother children in the parish; and the Lord saw me, and had mercy upon\nme.\"\n\n\"Yes, my child, you were always a good girl, and minded your book.\"\n\n\"No, mother, no; not always.  I cared nothing about goodness, nor my\nBible, till the minister came and sent for us, as you know, on Saturday\nafternoons.  Don't you remember, mother, that at first you did not like\nme to go, and said you would have no such _godly_, _pious_ doings about\n_your_ house; and that I had better play about the streets and fields,\nthan be laughed at and be made game of for pretending to be so good?  Ah,\nmother, you did not know what I went for, and what God designed for me\nand my poor sinful soul!  But, thank God, I did go, and there learned the\nway of salvation.  Mother, I wish you had learned too.\"\n\nAs I listened to this affecting conversation, it appeared to me, from the\ntone and manner of the mother's voice, that she was more under the\ninfluence of temporary grief, on account of her child's extreme illness,\nthan sincere sorrow from any real sense of her sins.  I however hoped the\nbest, and rejoiced to hear such weighty and important exhortation\ndropping from her daughter's lips.  I felt that present circumstances\nrendered it far more valuable than my own could have been.\n\nI have often, since that time, seen the wicked and careless much\naffected, while sitting by the dying bed of a near relative: I have\nwitnessed their temporary acknowledgments of sin, and heard their\nprofessions of amendment.  But, after a short season, all has passed away\nlike the morning dew.  The friend has been buried out of sight.  The\nworld and its cares, the flesh and its sins, have returned with new\ntemptations, and the eloquence of iniquity has prevailed over the voice\nof truth.  \"The dog has returned to his vomit, and the sow to her\nwallowing in the mire.\"\n\nOn the other hand, how frequently have the deathbeds of true believers\nbeen blessed to the eye-witness of the triumphs of grace over sin, death,\nand hell!  Often has the careless bystander received the first saving\nimpression of divine truth, whilst the dying Christian has experienced\nand testified the supports of love and mercy in the trying hour.  At such\nseasons, faith wields a bright and burning torch, which occasionally\nsoftens the hardest and warms the coldest heart.  The expressions of that\nheavenly consolation and devout solicitude, which the Holy Spirit\nvouchsafes to some, thus become the happy means of grace and blessing for\nthe conversion and edification of others.\n\n\"He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the\nchurches!\"\n\nAt this moment the house-door opened, and a younger child, a brother of\nJane's, came in.  The mother asked from above who it was: the boy\nreplied; and, without further inquiry, she remained in the chamber.  I\nbeckoned to the lad to sit down quietly; and thus it still remained\nunknown that I was below.\n\n\"Mother,\" continued Jane, \"that is my brother, and will soon be your only\nremaining child.  Do, pray, encourage him to follow good ways.  Send him\nto Mr. ---, and he will be kind to him, as he has been to me.  He is a\nwild boy, but I hope he will be brought to think about his soul in time.\nThose naughty, wicked boys teach him to swear and fight, and run after\nall manner of evil.  Lord, help him to flee from the wrath to come!\"\n\nI made a sign to the boy to listen to what his sister said concerning\nhim.  He seemed to hear with attention, and a tear dropped down his\ncheek.\n\n\"Ay, Jenny, it is to be hoped he will, and that we shall all likewise.\"\n\n\"Mother, then you must flee to Christ.  Nothing you can do will save you\nwithout that.  You must repent and turn from sin: without the grace of\nGod you cannot do it; but seek, and you shall find it.  Do, for your own\nsake, and for my sake, and my little brother's sake.\"\n\nThe woman wept and sobbed without replying.  I now thought it time to\nappear, went to the bottom of the stairs, and said, \"May a friend come\nup?\"\n\n\"Mercy on me!\" said the mother, \"there is Mr. ---\"\n\n\"Come in, sir,\" said Jane; \"I am very glad you are come _now_.  Mother,\nset a chair.\"\n\nThe woman looked confused.  Jane smiled as I entered, and welcomed me as\nusual.\n\n\"I hope I shall be forgiven, both by mother and daughter, for having\nremained so long below stairs, during the conversation which has just\ntaken place.  I came in the hope of finding you together, as I have had a\nwish for some time past to speak to you, Sarah, on the same subjects\nabout which, I am happy to say, your daughter is so anxious.  You have\nlong neglected these things, and I wished to warn you of the danger of\nyour state; but Jenny has said all I could desire, and I now solemnly ask\nyou, whether you are not much affected by your poor child's faithful\nconversation?  You ought to have been _her_ teacher and instructor in the\nways of righteousness, whereas she has now become _yours_.  Happy,\nhowever, will it be for you if you are wise, and consider your latter\nend, and the things which belong to your peace, before they are hidden\nfrom your eyes!  Look at your dying child, and think of your other and\nonly remaining one, and say whether this sight does not call aloud upon\nyou to hear and fear.\"\n\nJane's eyes were filled with tears whilst I spoke.  The woman hung her\nhead down, but betrayed some emotions of dislike at the plain dealing\nused towards her.\n\n\"My child, Jenny,\" said I, \"how are you to-day?\"\n\n\"Sir, I have been talking a good deal, and feel rather faint and weary,\nbut my mind has been very easy and happy since I last saw you.  I am\nquite willing to die, when the Lord sees fit.  I have no wish to live\nexcept it be to see my friends in a better way before I depart.  Sir, I\nused to be afraid to speak to them; but I feel to-day as if I could hold\nmy peace no longer, and I must tell them what the Lord has done for my\nsoul, and what I feel for theirs.\"\n\nThere was a firmness, I may say a dignity with which this was uttered\nthat surprised me.  The character of the child seemed to be lost in that\nof the Christian; her natural timidity yielded to a holy assurance of\nmanner resulting from her own inward consolations, mingled with spiritual\ndesire for her mother's welfare.  This produced a flush upon her\notherwise pallid countenance, which in no small degree added to her\ninteresting appearance.  The Bible lay open before her as she sat up in\nthe bed.  With her right hand she enclosed her mother's.\n\n\"Mother, this book _you_ cannot read; you should therefore go constantly\nto church, that you may hear it explained.  It is God's book, and tells\nus the way to heaven; I hope you will learn and mind it; with God's\nblessing it may save your soul.  Do think of that, mother, pray do.  I am\nsoon going to die.  Give this Bible to my brother; and will you be so\nkind, sir, as to instruct him?  Mother, remember what I say, and this\ngentleman is witness: there is no salvation for sinners like you and me\nbut in the blood of Christ; he is able to save to the uttermost; he will\nsave all that come to him; he waits to be gracious: cast yourself upon\nhis mercy.  I wish--I wish--I--I--I--\"\n\nShe was quite overcome, and sank away in a kind of fainting fit.\n\nHer mother observed, that she would now probably remain insensible for\nsome time before she recovered.\n\nI improved this interval in a serious address to the woman, and then\nprepared to take my departure, perceiving that Jane was too much\nexhausted for further conversation at that time.\n\nAs I was leaving the room, the child said faintly, \"Come again soon, sir;\nmy time is very short.\"\n\nI returned home by the same retired road which I had before chosen.  I\nsilently meditated on the eminent proofs of piety and faith which were\njust afforded me in the scene I had witnessed.\n\nSurely, I thought, this is an extraordinary child!  What cannot grace\naccomplish?  Is it possible to doubt after this, _who_ is the alone\nAuthor and Finisher of salvation; or from _whom_ cometh every good and\nperfect gift?  How rich and free is the mercy of Jehovah!  Hath not he\n\"chosen the weak things of this world to confound the things which are\nmighty?\"  Let no flesh glory in his presence: but \"he that glorieth, let\nhim glory in the Lord.\"\n\n\n\nPART VI.\n\n\nThe truth and excellence of the religion of Jesus Christ appear to be\nremarkably established by the union of similarity with variety, in the\neffect which it produces on the hearts and lives of true believers.  In\nthe grand and essential features of Christian experience, the whole\nhousehold of God possess an universal sameness of character, a family\nlikeness, which distinguishes them from all the world besides: yet, in\nnumerous particulars, there also exists a beautiful variety.\n\nOn the one hand, in the aged and the young, in the wise and the\nunlearned, in the rich and the poor; in those of stronger and weaker\ndegrees of mental capacity, in more sanguine or more sedate dispositions;\nand in a multitude of otherwise varying circumstances, there is a\nstriking conformity of principles and feeling to Christ, and to each\nother.  Like the flowers of the field and the garden, they are \"all\nrooted and grounded\" in the soil of the same earth; they are warmed by\nthe same sun, refreshed by the same air, and watered by the same dews.\nThey each derive nourishment, growth, and increase from the same life-\ngiving Source.  As the flower puts forth its leaves and petals, adorns\nthe place which it inhabits with its beauty, and possesses an internal\nsystem of qualities, whereby it is enabled to bring forth its seed or\nfruit in the appointed season; so does the Christian.\n\nBut, on the other hand, like the flowers also, some Christians may be\nsaid to grow on the mountain tops, some in valleys, some in the waters,\nand others in dry ground.  Different colours, forms, and sizes,\ndistinguish them from each other, and produce a diversity of character\nand appearance which affords a delightful variety, both for the purposes\nof use and beauty.  Yet is that variety perfectly consistent with their\nessential unity of nature in the vegetable kingdom, to which they all\nequally belong.\n\nIn another particular they likewise resemble.  They both die a natural\ndeath.  The Lord ever preserves \"a seed to serve him,\" from generation to\ngeneration; for as one disappears, another springs up to supply his\nplace.  But \"it is appointed unto all men once to die.\"--Man \"cometh\nforth like a flower and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and\ncontinueth not.\"--\"All flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the\nflower of the grass.  The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth\naway.\"\n\nIn the midst of such diversity of Christian characters there is much to\nlove and admire.  I have selected the case of little Jane, as one not\nundeserving of notice.\n\nIt is true, she was only a child--a very poor child--but a child saved by\ndivine grace, enlightened with the purest knowledge, and adorned with\nunaffected holiness; she was a child, humble, meek, and lowly.  She\n\"found grace in the eyes of the Lord\" while she was on earth; and, I\ndoubt not, will be seen on his right hand at the last day.  As such,\nthere is preciousness in the character, which will account for my\nattempting once more to write concerning her, and describe her last\nmoments before she went to her final rest.\n\nAt a very early hour on the morning of the following day, I was awoke by\nthe arrival of a messenger, bringing an earnest request that I would\nimmediately go to the child, as her end appeared to be just approaching.\n\nIt was not yet day when I left my house to obey the summons.  The morning\nstar shone conspicuously clear.  The moon cast a mild light over the\nprospect, but gradually diminished in brightness as the eastern sky\nbecame enlightened.  The birds were beginning their songs, and seemed\nready to welcome the sun's approach.  The dew plentifully covered the\nfields, and hung suspended in drops from the trees and hedges.  A few\nearly labourers appeared in the lanes, travelling towards the scene of\ntheir daily occupations.\n\nAll besides was still and calm.  My mind, as I proceeded, was deeply\nexercised by thoughts concerning the affecting event which I expected\nsoon to witness.\n\nThe rays of the morning star were not so beautiful in my sight, as the\nspiritual lustre of this young Christian's character.  \"Her night was far\nspent;\" the morning of a \"better day was at hand.\"  The sun of eternal\nblessedness was ready to break upon her soul with rising glory.  Like the\nmoon, which I saw above me, this child's exemplary deportment had gently\ncast a useful light over the neighbourhood where she dwelt.  Like this\nmoon she had for a season been permitted to shine amidst the surrounding\ndarkness; and her rays were also reflected from a luminary, in whose\nnative splendour her own would quickly be blended and lost.\n\nThe air was cool, but the breezes of the morning were refreshing, and\nseemed to foretell the approach of a beautiful day.  Being accustomed, in\nmy walks, to look for subjects of improving thought and association, I\nfound them in every direction around me as I hastened onwards to the\nhouse where Jane lay, waiting for a dismissal from her earthly dwelling.\n\nI felt that the twilight gravity of nature was, at that hour, peculiarly\nappropriate to the circumstances of the case; and the more so, because\nthat twilight was significantly adorned with the brilliant sparklings of\nthe star on one hand, and the clear, pale lustre of the waning moon on\nthe other.\n\nWhen I arrived at the house, I found no one below; I paused for a few\nminutes, and heard the girl's voice very faintly saying, \"Do you think he\nwill come?  I should be so glad--so very glad to see him before I die.\"\n\nI ascended the stairs--her father, mother, and brother, together with the\nelderly woman before spoken of, were in the chamber.  Jane's countenance\nbore the marks of speedy dissolution.  Yet, although death was manifest\nin the languid features, there was something more than ever interesting\nin the whole of her external aspect.  The moment she saw me, a renewed\nvigour beamed in her eye; grateful affection sparkled in the dying face.\n\nAlthough she had spoken just before I entered, yet for some time\nafterwards she was silent, but never took her eyes off me.  There was\nanimation in her look--there was more--something like a foretaste of\nheaven seemed to be felt, and gave an inexpressible character of\nspiritual beauty, even in death.\n\nAt length she said, \"This is very kind, sir--I am going fast--I was\nafraid I should never see you again in this world.\"\n\nI said, \"My child, are you resigned to die?\"\n\n\"Quite.\"\n\n\"Where is your hope?\"\n\nShe lifted up her finger, pointed to heaven, and then directed the same\ndownward to her own heart, saying successively as she did so, \"Christ\n_there_, and Christ _here_.\"\n\nThese words, accompanied by the action, spoke her meaning more solemnly\nthan can easily be conceived.\n\nA momentary spasm took place.  Looking towards her weeping mother, she\nsaid, \"I am very cold--but it is no matter--it will soon be over--\"\n\nShe closed her eyes for about a minute, and, on opening them again, said,\n\"I wish, sir, when I am gone, you would tell the other children of the\nparish how good the Lord has been to me, a poor sinner--tell them, that\nthey who seek him early will find him--tell them, that the ways of sin\nand ignorance are the ways to ruin and hell--and pray tell them, sir,\nfrom me, that Christ is indeed the Way, the Truth, and the Life--he will\nin no wise cast out any that come.  Tell them that I, a poor girl--\"\n\nShe was quite exhausted, and sunk for a while into a torpid state, from\nwhich, however, she recovered gradually, uttering these expressions:\n\"Where am I?--I thought I was going--Lord, save me!\"\n\n\"My dear child, you will soon be for ever in _His_ arms who is now\nguiding you by his rod and staff through the valley of the shadow of\ndeath.\"\n\n\"I believe so, indeed I do,\" said she; \"I long to be with him!--Oh, how\ngood, how great, how merciful!--Jesus, save me, help me through this last\ntrial!\"\n\nShe then gave one hand to her father, the other to her mother, and said,\n\"God bless you, God bless you--seek the Lord--think of me when I am\ngone--it may be for your good--remember your souls--oh, for Christ's sake\nremember your souls--then all may be well--you cannot know what I have\nfelt for both of you--Lord, pardon and save my dear father and mother!\"\n\nShe then took hold of her brother's hand, saying, \"Thomas, I beg you to\nleave off your bad ways--read the Bible--I give you mine--I have found it\na precious book.  Do you not remember our little brother, who died some\nyears since?--he was praying to the last moment of his life.  Learn to\npray while you are in health, and you will find the comfort and power of\nit when you come to die; but, first of all, pray for a new heart--without\nit you will never see God in heaven--your present ways lead to misery and\nruin--may the Lord turn your heart to love and follow him!\"\n\nTo the other woman she said, \"I thank you, Dame K---, for all your\nkindness since I have been ill--you have been a Christian friend to me,\nand I hope that the Lord will remember you for it, according to his rich\nmercy:--you and I have many a time talked together about death; and\nthough I am the youngest, he calls me first to pass through it: but,\nblessed be his name, I am not terrified.  I once thought I could never\ndie without fear; but indeed I feel quite happy, now it is come; and so\nwill you, if you trust him--he is the God both of the old and the young.\"\n\n\"Ah, my child!\" said the woman, \"I wish I was as fit to die as you are;\nbut I fear that will never be--my sins have been many, very many.\"\n\n\"Christ's blood cleanseth from all sin,\" said the child.\n\nAt this moment, instead of growing weaker, through the fatigue of so much\nspeaking, she seemed to gather fresh strength.  She turned to me with a\nlook of surprising earnestness and animation, saying,--\n\n\"You, sir, have been my best friend on earth--you have taught me the way\nto heaven, and I love and thank you for it--you have borne with my\nweakness and my ignorance--you have spoken to me of the love of Christ,\nand he has made me to feel it in my heart--I shall see him face to\nface--he will never leave me nor forsake me--he is the same, and changes\nnot.  Dear sir, God bless you!\"\n\nThe child suddenly rose up, with an unexpected exertion, threw her livid,\nwasted arms around me, as I sat on the bedside, laid her head on my\nshoulder, and said distinctly, \"God bless and reward you--give thanks for\nme to him--my soul is saved--Christ is everything to me!  Sir, we shall\nmeet in heaven, shall we not?--Oh yes, yes--then all will be\npeace--peace--peace--\"\n\nShe sank back on the bed, and spoke no more--fetched a deep\nsigh--smiled--and died.\n\nAt this affecting moment, the rays of the morning sun darted into the\nroom, and filled my imagination with the significant emblem of \"the\ntender mercy of our God; whereby the dayspring from on high hath visited\nus, to give light to them that sit in darkness and in the shadow of\ndeath, to guide our feet into the way of peace.\"\n\nIt was a beam of light that seemed at once to describe the glorious\nchange which her soul had now already experienced; and, at the same time,\nto shed the promised consolations of hope over the minds of those who\nwitnessed her departure.\n\nThis was an incident obviously arising from a natural cause; but one\nwhich irresistibly connected itself with the spiritual circumstances of\nthe case.\n\nFor some time I remained silently gazing on the breathless corpse, and\ncould hardly persuade myself that Jane was indeed no longer there.\n\nAs I returned homeward, I found it difficult to repress the strong\nfeelings of affection which such a scene had excited.  Neither did I wish\nit.  Religion, reason, and experience, rather bid us indulge, in due\nplace and season, those tender emotions, which keep the heart alive to\nits most valuable sensibilities.  To check them serves but to harden the\nmind, and close the avenues which lead to the sources of our best\nprinciples of action.\n\nJesus himself _wept_ over the foreseen sorrows of Jerusalem.  He _wept_\nalso at the grave of his friend Lazarus.  Such an example consecrates the\ntear of affection, while it teaches us, concerning them which are asleep,\nnot to sorrow, as those which have no hope.\n\nI soon fell into meditation on the mysterious subject of the flight of a\nsoul from this world to that of departed spirits.\n\n\"Swifter than an arrow from the bow, or than the rays of light from the\nsun, has this child's spirit hastened, in obedience to its summons from\nGod, to appear in his immediate presence.  How solemn a truth is this for\nuniversal consideration!  But, 'washed in the blood of the Lamb that was\nslain,' and happily made partaker of its purifying efficacy, she meets\nher welcome at the throne of God.  She has nothing to fear from the\nfrowns of divine justice.  Sin, death, and hell, are all vanquished\nthrough the power of Him who hath made her more than conqueror.  He will\nhimself present her to his Father, as one of the purchased lambs of his\nflock--as one whom the Spirit of God 'has sealed unto the day of\nredemption.'\n\n\"What a change for her!--from that poor tattered chamber to the regions\nof paradise!--from a bed of straw to the bosom of Abraham!--from poverty,\nsickness, and pain, to eternal riches, health, and joy!--from the\ncondition of a decayed, weary pilgrim in this valley of tears, to that of\na happy traveller safely arrived at home, in the rest that remaineth to\nthe people of God!\n\n\"I have lost a young disciple, endeared to me by a truly parental tie.\nYet how can I complain of that as lost which God has found?  Her willing\nand welcome voice no longer seeks or imparts instruction here.  But it is\nfar better employed.  The angels, who rejoiced over her when her soul\nfirst turned to God, who watched the progress of her short pilgrimage,\nand who have now carried her triumphantly to the heavenly hills, have\nalready taught her to join\n\n   'In holy song, their own immortal strains.'\n\nWhy then should I mourn?  The whole prospect, as it concerns her, is\nfilled with joy and immortality: 'Death is swallowed up in victory.'\"\n\nAs I looked upon the dewdrops which rested on the grass and hung from the\nbranches of the trees, I observed that the sun's rays first filled them\nwith beautiful and varied colours; then dried them up, and they were seen\nno longer.\n\nThus it was with myself.  The tears which I neither would nor could\nrestrain, when I first began thus to reflect on the image of the dying\nchamber of little Jane, were speedily brightened by the vivid sunshine of\nhope and confidence.  They then gradually yielded to the influence of\nthat divine principle which shall finally wipe the tear from every eye,\nand banish all sorrow and sighing for evermore.\n\nOn the fourth day from thence, Jane was buried.  I had never before\ncommitted a parishioner to the ground with similar affections.  The\nattendants were not many, but I was glad to perceive among them some of\nthe children who had been accustomed to receive my weekly private\ninstruction along with her.\n\nI wished that the scene might usefully impress their young hearts, and\nthat God would bless it to their edification.\n\nAs I stood at the head of the grave, during the service, I connected past\nevents, which had occurred in the churchyard, with the present.  In this\nspot Jane first learned the value of that gospel which saved her soul.\nNot many yards from her own burial-place, was the epitaph which has\nalready been described as the first means of affecting her mind with\nserious and solemn conviction.  It seemed to stand at _this_ moment as a\npeculiar witness for those truths which its lines proclaimed to every\npassing reader.  Such an association of objects produced a powerful\neffect on my thoughts.\n\nThe evening was serene--nothing occurred to interrupt the quiet solemnity\nof the occasion.\n\n\"Peace\" was the last word little Jane uttered while living; and peace\nseemed to be inscribed on the farewell scene of the grave where she was\nlaid.  A grateful remembrance of that peace revives in my own mind, as I\nwrite these memorials of it; and oh, may that peace which passeth all\nunderstanding be in its most perfect exercise, when I shall meet her\nagain at the last day!\n\nAttachment to the spot where this young Christian lay, induced me to\nplant a yew-tree close by the head of her grave, adjoining the eastern\nwall of the church.  I designed it as an evergreen monument of one who\nwas dear to memory.  The young plant appeared healthy for a while, and\npromised by its outward vigour long to retain its station.  But it\nwithered soon afterwards, and, like the child whose grave it pointed out\nto notice, early faded away and died.\n\nThe yew-tree proved a frail and short-lived monument.  But a more lasting\none dwells in my own heart.  And perhaps this narrative may be permitted\nto transmit her memory to other generations, when the hand and heart of\nthe writer shall be cold in the dust.\n\nPerchance some, into whose hands these pages may fall, will be led to\ncultivate their spiritual young plants with increased hopes of success,\nin so arduous an endeavour.  May the tender blossoms reward their care,\nand bring forth early and acceptable fruit!\n\nSome, who have perhaps been accustomed to undervalue the character of\n_very_ youthful religion, may hereby see that the Lord of grace and glory\nis not limited in the exercise of his power by age or circumstance.  It\nsometimes appears in the displays of God's love to sinners, as it does in\nthe manifestations of his works in the heavens, that the _least_ of the\nplanets moves in the nearest course to the sun; and there enjoys the most\npowerful influence of his light, heat, and attraction.\n\nThe story of this Young Cottager involves a clear evidence of the\nfreeness of the operations of divine grace on the heart of man; of the\ninseparable connection between true faith and holiness of disposition;\nand of the simplicity of character which a real love of Christ transfuses\ninto the soul.\n\nHow many of the household of faith of every age,\n\n   \"Alike unknown to fortune and to fame,\"\n\nhave journeyed and are now travelling to their \"city of habitation,\"\nthrough the paths of modest obscurity and almost unheeded piety!  It is\none of the most interesting employments of the Christian minister to\nsearch out these spiritual lilies of the valley, whose beauty and\nfragrance are nearly concealed in their shady retreats.  To rear the\nflower, to assist in unfolding its excellences, and bring forth its fruit\nin due season, is a work that delightfully recompenses the toil of the\ncultivator.\n\nWhile he is occupied in this grateful task of labouring in his heavenly\nMaster's garden, some blight, some tempest, may chance to take away a\nfavourite young blossom in a premature stage of its growth.\n\nIf such a case should befall him, he will then, perhaps, as I have often\ndone, when standing in pensive recollection at little Jane's grave, make\nan application of these lines, which are inscribed on a grave-stone\nerected in the same churchyard, and say--\n\n   \"This lovely bud so young and fair,\n      Called hence by early doom,\n   Just came to show how sweet a flower\n      In paradise would bloom.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE COTTAGE CONVERSATION\n\n\nAs I journeyed late on a summer evening, meditating on the beauties of\nthe prospect around me, while they gradually faded from my sight, through\nthe approach of darkness, it grew suddenly quite gloomy, and a black\ncloud hanging over my head threatened a heavy shower of rain.  The big\ndrops began to fall, and an open shed, adjoining to a labourer's cottage,\noffering me a seasonable shelter, I dismounted from my horse, and found\nit large enough to protect him as well as myself.\n\nThe circumstance reminded me of the happy privilege of the believing\nsinner, who finds a \"refuge from the storm, and the blast of the terrible\nones, in the love of his Redeemer,\" which prepares him \"a covert from\nstorm and from rain.\"  I went in unperceived: the door of the cottage was\nhalf open, and I heard the voices of a poor man, his wife, and some\nchildren within.\n\nI was hesitating whether to go into the house and make myself known, or\nto enjoy in solitude a meditation on the foregoing comparison, which my\nsituation had brought to my mind, when these words, spoken in a calm and\naffectionate tone, struck me with mingled pleasure and surprise, and\ndetermined me not to interrupt the conversation:--\n\n\"Indeed, wife, you are in the wrong.  Riches would never make us happier,\nso long as the Lord sees it good that we should be poor.\"\n\n\"Well,\" replied the wife, \"I can see no harm in wishing for more money\nand better living than we have at present.  Other people have risen in\nthe world; and why should not we?  There's neighbour Sharp has done well\nfor his family, and, for anything I can see, will be one of the richest\nfarmers in the parish, if he lives; and everybody knows he was once as\npoor as we are: while you and I are labouring and toiling from morning to\nnight, and can but just get enough to fill our children's mouths, and\nkeep ourselves coarsely clothed, and hardly that.\"\n\n\"Wife,\" answered the man, \"having food and raiment, let us therewith be\ncontent.  And if it please God that even these things should fall short,\nlet us submit ourselves to God in patience and well-doing, for he gives\nus more than we deserve.\"\n\n\"There, now you are got to preaching again,\" said the woman; \"you never\ngive me an answer, but you must always go to your Bible to help you out.\"\n\n\"And where can I go so well?\" replied the husband.  \"Is it not God's own\nword for our instruction?\"\n\n\"Well, that may be, but I don't like so much of it,\" answered she.\n\n\"And I do not like so little of it as I see and hear from you,\" returned\nthe man.\n\n\"Why, that book has taught me that it is an honour and comfort to be a\npoor man, and, by the blessing of the Spirit of God, I believe and feel\nit to be true.  I have, through mercy, always been enabled to get the\nbread of honest industry, and so have you; and though our children feed\nupon brown bread, and we cannot afford to buy them fine clothes, like\nsome of our vain neighbours, to pamper their pride with; yet, bless the\nLord, they are as healthy and clean as any in the parish.  Why then\nshould you complain?  Godliness with contentment is great gain!\"\n\n\"An honour and a comfort to be a poor man, indeed!  What nonsense you\ntalk!  What sort of honour and comfort can that be?  I am out of patience\nwith you, man,\" the wife sharply cried out.\n\n\"I can prove it!\" replied he.\n\n\"How?\" returned his partner, in no very pleasant tone of voice.\n\n\"My dear,\" said the good man, \"hear me quietly, and I will tell you.\"\n\n\"I think it an honour, and I feel it a comfort, to be in that very\nstation of life which my Saviour Jesus Christ was in before me.  He did\nnot come into the world as one that was rich and great, but as a poor\nman, who had not where to lay his head.  I feel a blessing in my poverty,\nbecause Jesus, like me, was poor.  Had I been a rich man, perhaps I\nshould never have known nor loved him.  'For not many mighty, not many\nnoble, are called.'  God's people are chiefly found among the base things\nof the world, and things which are despised.  This makes my poverty to be\nmy comfort.\n\n\"Besides, hath not God chosen the poor of this world, rich in faith, and\nheirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him?  This\nthought makes my poverty also to be my honour.\n\n\"Moreover, to the poor the gospel was and is preached, and to my heart's\ndelight I find it to be true, every Sunday of my life.  And is it not\nplain, all the neighbourhood through, that while so many of our rich\nfarmers, and tradesmen, and squires, are quite careless, or set their\nfaces against the ways of God, and are dead to everything that is\ngracious and holy; a great number of the poorest people are converted and\nlive?  I honour the rich for their station, but I do not envy them for\ntheir possessions.  I can not forget what Christ once said, 'How hardly\nshall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!'\n\n\"Oh! my dear wife, if you did but know how to set a right value upon the\nprecious promises which God has made to the poor, how thankful should I\nbe!\n\n\"The expectation of the poor shall not perish.  He delivereth the poor\nand needy from him that spoileth him.  He has prepared of his goodness\nfor the poor.  The poor among men shall rejoice in the holy one.  For he\nbecame poor, that we, through his poverty might be rich; not in gold, but\nin grace.\n\n\"These promises comfort my soul, and would make me happy, even if I were\ndeprived of that which I now enjoy.  I can trust my Saviour for this\nworld as well as for the next.  He that spared not his own Son, but\ndelivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give\nus all things?\n\n\"The Lord of his mercy bless you, my dear Sarah, with the grace of a\ncontented mind!\"\n\nHere the gracious man stopped: and whether affected by her husband's\ndiscourse, or by any other cause, I know not, but she made no reply.  He\nthen said, \"Come, children, it is our time for rest; shut the door, and\nlet us go to prayer.\"\n\n\"Forgive me,\" said I, laying hold of the door, as the child was obeying\nher father's orders, \"if I ask leave to make one in your family\ndevotions, before I travel homeward.  I have heard you, my friend, when\nyou knew it not, and bless God for the sermon which you have this night\npreached to my heart.\"\n\nThe honest labourer blushed for a moment at this unexpected intrusion and\ndeclaration, but immediately said, \"Sir, you are welcome to a poor man's\ndwelling, if you come in the name of the Lord.\"\n\nI just looked round at the wife, who seemed to be startled at my sudden\nappearance, and the six fine children who sat near her, and then said,\n\"You were going to pray; I must beg of you, without regarding me, to go\non as if I were not here.\"\n\nThe man, whom I could not but love and reverence, with a simple,\nunaffected, modest, and devout demeanour, did as I requested him.  His\nprayer was full of tender affection and sincerity, expressed with great\nScriptural propriety, and was in all respects such as became the preacher\nof those sentiments which I have overheard him deliver to his wife just\nbefore.\n\nWhen he had finished, each of his children, according to the good old\npatriarchal custom of better days, kneeled down before him in turn to\nreceive a father's blessing.\n\nIt was now late, and the rain was over.  I gave the poor man my blessing,\nand received his in return.  I wished them good night, and went onwards\nto my own home, reflecting with much self-abasement of heart, what an\nhonour and comfort it is to be a poor man, rich in faith.\n\n\n\n\nA VISIT TO THE INFIRMARY.\n\n\nI went a few months since to visit a parishioner, then in the county\ninfirmary, within some miles of which I reside, and was informed that in\nan adjoining ward there lay a very good old man, confined by a\nmortification in his foot, who would take particular satisfaction in any\nChristian conversation which my time would allow me to afford him.\n\nThe nurse conducted me into a room where I found him alone on a bed.  The\ncharacter of his countenance was venerable, cheerful, contented, and\npious.  His hoary hairs proclaimed him to be aged, although the\nliveliness in his eye was equal to that of the most vigorous youth.\n\n\"How are you, my friend?\" I said.\n\n\"Very well, sir, very well.  Never better in all my life.  Thank God for\nall his mercies!\" replied the man, with so cheerful a tone of voice as at\nonce surprised and delighted me.\n\n\"Very well!  How so?  I thought from what I heard you were in much pain\nand weakness,\" said I.\n\n\"Yes, sir, that is true; but I am very well for all that.  For God is so\ngood to my soul, and he provides everything needful for my body.  The\npeople in the house are very kind; and friends come to see me, and talk\nand pray with me.  Sir, I want nothing but more grace to praise the Lord\nfor all his goodness.\"\n\n\"Why, my friend, you are an old pilgrim, and I am glad to see that you\nhave learned thankfulness as you travel through the wilderness.\"\n\n\"Thankfulness!\" quickly returned he.  \"No, sir; I never did thank the\nLord, I never could thank him; no, nor I never shall thank him as I\nought, till I get to glory.  And then--oh, then--how I will thank him for\nwhat he has done for me!\"  Tears of affection filled his eyes as he\nspoke.\n\n\"What a good Master you serve!\" I added.\n\n\"Ay, sir, if the servant was but as good as the Master.  But here I am, a\npoor old sinner, deserving nothing, and receiving everything which I\nneed.  Sir, I want nothing but more grace to serve him better.  I lie\nhere on this bed, and pray and sing by night and day.  Sir, you must let\nme sing you my hymn; I always begin it about four o'clock in the morning,\nand it keeps my spirits alive all the day through.\"\n\nWithout waiting for my reply, he raised himself up, and in an aged and\nbroken, but very affecting tone of voice, he sang two or three verses,\nexpressive of God's goodness to him, and his own desire to live to God's\nglory.  The simplicity, serenity, and heartfelt consolation, with which\nthis venerable disciple went through it, gave a colouring to the whole,\nand left an impression on my mind which it would be impossible to convey\nto the reader.\n\nAs soon as he had finished his hymn, he said, \"Do not be offended, sir,\nat my boldness: you love the Lord, too, I hope; and then I am sure you\nwon't be angry to hear me praise him.  But now, sir, talk to me about\nJesus Christ.  You are his minister, and he has sent you here to-day to\nsee a poor unworthy soul, that does not deserve the least of his mercies.\nTalk to me, sir, if you please about Jesus Christ.\"\n\n\"Neither you nor I are able to talk of him as we ought,\" I answered; \"and\nyet, if we were to hold our peace, the very stones would cry out.\"\n\n\"Ay, and well they might, sir, cry shame, shame upon us, if we refused to\nspeak of his goodness,\" said the old man.\n\n\"Jesus Christ,\" I continued, \"is a sure refuge, and a present help in\ntime of trouble.\"\n\n\"That's right, sir; so he is.\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ has taken care of you, and watched over you all the days of\nyour life; and he will be your guide and portion in death.\"\n\n\"That's right again, sir; so he will.\"\n\n\"You have committed your soul into his keeping long since, have you not?\"\n\n\"About forty years ago, sir; about forty years ago, (when I first used to\nhear Mr. Venn and Mr. Berridge,) he came to seek and to save me, a vile\nsinner, who deserved nothing but his wrath.  I can never praise him\nenough.\"\n\n\"Well, my friend, and this very Saviour, Jesus Christ, whom you love, and\nin whom you trust, lived for you, and died for you; he rose again for\nyou, and has sanctified you by his Holy Spirit, and now lives to make\ndaily intercession for you: and having done all this, do you think he\nwill leave you to perish at last?\"\n\n\"No, sir,\" said the old man: \"faithful is he that hath promised, and will\ndo it.  Mine, alack, is a changing heart; but he changeth not.  I believe\nthat he hath laid up a crown of glory for me; and though the old enemy of\nsouls sometimes tells me I shan't have it, I believe in Christ sooner\nthan in him, and I trust I shall have it at last.\"\n\n\"And do you not find by experience,\" I added, \"that his yoke is easy, and\nhis burden light?  His commandments are not grievous, are they?\"\n\n\"No, sir, no: it is a man's meat and drink, if he loves the Lord, to do\nwhat he bids him.\"\n\n\"Where were you before you came into this infirmary?\"\n\n\"In the parish workhouse of S---.\"\n\n\"Have you a wife?\"\n\n\"She died some years since, and got to her heavenly home before me.\"\n\n\"Have you any children?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir, I have two sons married, and settled in the world with\nfamilies.  One of them has been here to see me lately, and I hope he is\nin a good way for his own soul, and brings up his children in the fear of\nGod.\"\n\n\"Have you any worldly cares upon your mind?\"\n\n\"_Not one_, sir.  I am come to this house, I plainly see, to end my days;\nfor this mortification in my leg must, before it be very long, bring me\nto the grave.  And I am quite willing, sir, to go, or to wait the Lord's\nown time.  I want nothing, sir, but more grace to praise him.\"  Which\nlast words he often repeated in the course of the conversation.\n\n\"You have reason,\" I said, \"to feel thankful that there is such a house\nas this for poor and sick people to be brought to, for both food,\nlodging, and medicine.\"\n\n\"That I have, indeed, sir; it is a house of mercies to me, and I am\nashamed to hear how unthankful many of the patients seem to be for the\nbenefits which the Lord provides for them here.  But, poor creatures,\nthey neither know nor love him.  The Lord have mercy upon them, and show\nthem the right way.  I should never have known that good way, sir, if he\nhad not taken compassion upon me, when I had none upon myself.\"\n\nTears ran down his aged cheeks as he spoke these last words.  \"Here,\"\nthought I, \"is a poor man that is very rich, and a weak man that is very\nstrong.\"  At this moment the nurse brought in his dinner.  \"There, sir,\nyou see, more and more mercies!  The Lord takes care of me, and sends me\nplenty of food for this poor, old worn-out body.\"\n\n\"And yet,\" said I, \"that poor old worn-out body will one day be renewed\nand become a glorified body, and live along with your soul in the\npresence of God for ever.\"\n\n\"That's right, sir,\" said the good old man, \"so it will: 'though after my\nskin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.'  But,\ncome, sir,\" seeing me look at my watch, \"you must speak a word _to_ your\nMaster, if you please, as well as _for_ him.  I will put down my dinner\nwhile you pray with me.\"\n\nI did so, the man often adding his confirmation of what I offered up by\nvoice, gesture, and countenance, in a manner highly expressive of the\nagreement of his heart with the language of the prayer.\n\nHaving ended, he said, \"God be with you, sir, and bless your labours to\nmany poor souls!  I hope you will come to see me again, if my life be\nspared.  I am so glad to see those who will talk to me about Jesus\nChrist, and his precious salvation.\"\n\nI replied, \"May the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, who carried them\nthrough the days of their pilgrimage, and brought them safe to a city\nwhich hath foundations, bring you there too, and bless you all the\nremaining days of your journey till you get home!  I am going to see\nseveral serious friends this evening, who would be glad, I know, to\nreceive a message from one who has had so much experience of a Saviour's\nmercies.  What shall I say to them?\"\n\n\"Tell them, sir, with my Christian love and respects, that you have been\nto see a poor dying old man, who wants nothing at all in this world but\nmore grace to praise the Lord with.\"\n\nSo ended our first interview.  I could not help reflecting, as I returned\nhomewards, that, as the object of my journey to the infirmary had been to\ncarry instruction and consolation myself to the poor and the sick; so the\npoor and the sick were made instrumental to the conveying of both\ninstruction and consolation to my own heart in a very superior degree.\n\nI saw him four or five times afterwards, and always found him in the same\nhappy, patient, thankful, and edifying state of mind and conversation.\nThe last time I was with him, he said, \"Sir, I long to be at my heavenly\nhome, but I am willing to remain a traveller as long as my Lord and\nMaster sees good.\"\n\nHe died {203} not long after my last sight of him, in the steadfast\nassurance of faith, and with a full hope of immortality.\n\n\n\n\nFootnotes:\n\n\n{87}  The mother died not long after her daughter; and I have good reason\nto believe that God was merciful to her, and took her to himself.\n\nAn interesting account of a visit recently made to the Dairyman's cottage\nappeared in the _Christian Guardian_ for October 1813.  A still more\nrecent visit to the good old Dairyman (who still lives, at the age of\neighty-two) has been made by the author of this narrative.  (_June_ 1814)\n\nThe good old Dairyman died in 1816.  His end was eminently Christian.\n\n{97}  \"Now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of\nthese is charity\" (1 Cor. xiii. 13)\n\n{98}  This circumstance took place before the late abolition of the slave\ntrade.\n\n{103}  The day has since arrived, when the persevering efforts of Mr.\nWilberforce to accomplish this happy purpose have been fully answered.\n_The slave trade is abolished_!  The Church of God rejoices at this\ntriumph of the cause of Christ over the powers of darkness.\n\n{105}  In the course of conversation, he sometimes addressed me with the\nword \"Massa,\" for \"Master,\" according to the well known habit of the\nNegro slaves in the West Indies; and sometimes 'Sir,' as he was taught\nsince his arrival in England; but the former word seemed to be most\nfamiliar to him.\n\n{107}  A kind of shell-fish, which abound in the place where we were, and\nwhich stick to the rocks with exceeding great force.\n\n{121}  Song of Solomon i. 5.\n\n{203}  The foregoing conversation took place on September 22, 1808, and\nis faithfully related.\n\nJ--- S---, the good old man, died in the Infirmary, in December 1808.","title":"The Annals of the Poor","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":57124}