XII.
COUNTRY LIFE.
"COME, MY BELOVED, LET US GO OUT INTO THE FIELD; LET US
LODGE IN THE VILLAGES."—Cant. vii. 11.
In the spring of 1829, Mr. Lyth retired to a country residence, which he had built upon a small estate, between three and four miles from the city. The propriety of this step, as it seemed to involve the sacrifice of many religious advantages, was by some intimate friends regarded with grave suspicion; and it may fairly be doubted, how far a Christian man, with the view of enjoying the fruits of his industry, has a right to withdraw himself and his family from a sphere of usefulness, and privilege, to one of comparative retirement. Can he be equally useful? Will his family enjoy equal privileges? If not let him pause, for he is under a higher law than that of self-gratification, or worldly policy: besides, his very object may be frustrated; it may turn out, that the change from an active to an idle life, may bring disquiet instead of repose. But in the present instance, the disadvantage was overcome by the force of christian principle. Mrs. Lyth did not relinquish her exertions in the city, while a new sphere of usefulness opened itself in the village, near which they came to reside. Twice a week, as often as health permitted, she visited the city to meet her classes; sometimes walking the whole distance there and back. The day was generally spent in seeing her absent members, visiting the sick, or availing herself of public, or social means of edification. The effect of these exertions upon her own delicate frame, was painful; and, combined with other causes, occasioned, during her four years' residence at Eastfield House, frequent and severe attacks of sickness. But we resume her own notes.
"I came to Eastfield House, which is now to be my home during my pilgrimage on earth. Thank God, I feel I am but a stranger and a sojourner. A variety of circumstances have engaged my attention, and interrupted my quiet; but when shut in from the world, to hold converse with God, I have tasted superior pleasure.—I went early to York, and spent the day in seeing the sick, and other members of my classes; visiting the school, attending my band, and meeting my class. Most of these engagements were profitable to me, and I hope to others. I went out with the conviction that I was the Lord's labourer.—My niece, Hannah, is apparently near eternity. She tells me she is happy, and I cannot doubt it; for last evening while praying with her, my faith acquired such strength, and I was so filled with love and confidence, that when I rose from my knees, I could not help saying, 'The Lord has blessed you.' She answered, 'Yes:' but whether at that moment, or earlier in the day, I cannot tell. The work is the Lord's.—After an affliction, of some months, and a fortnight's confinement to bed, Hannah has left us. For two days she was insensible, but the last she was remarkably tranquil, with a very pleasing expression of countenance.—My greatest joy is in communion with the Lord and His saints: this has been a high, day; I have been unusually assisted in speaking to the Lord's people; and many appeared to feel the power of God. At the close of the meeting, Mrs. B. called upon me, and we went to Mrs. Vevers', where we united in prayer; and from thence to Miss H.'s, where we held our little band-meeting, Mrs. E. was much affected, but not able to lay hold of the great blessing: O for more faith.—The quarterly fast was observed in Haxby for the first time: I found it good to unite with them.—During the last week we have been favoured with the company of Mr. Mortimer, returned from the Shetland Islands. He retains the same Christian simplicity, and I feel it a privilege to entertain such a man under our roof. I was benefitted among the dear people; but my body was much wearied when I returned home, and the folio wing day I was very unwell: yet my mind was peaceful. At the entreaty of my husband, I remain at home to-day; being only very feeble. O shut me not out from Thy presence; but feed me with heavenly manna.—I hail the returning Sabbath, Glory, glory be to God, the sacred fire is kindled in my heart. Well might the Psalmist say, 'I would rather be a door-keeper in the house of my God, than dwell in the tents of wickedness' The Lord does carry on His work in my soul. Love destroys fear. God is my portion, and in Him will I trust. The week has been mixed with trial and blessing. Monday: Penelope left us, after a visit of ten days. Tuesday: Felt it good while Mr. Crowther admonished us to look to Jesus. Wednesday: Our servant left us: I had power to pray for her after she was gone. Thursday: The Lord was with us at our little meeting. Friday: I spoke unadvisedly with my tongue, which occasioned pain of mind; but applying to Jesus, I found access. O the condescension of the Saviour! The prayer-meeting was a blessed season. Saturday: A day of toil, but the Lord was with me: yet I want a constant mind, that I may every moment hold converse with my God. 'Keep thyself pure' was the admonition of the Spirit one morning this week. May I ever remember it."
[The following was the dying complaint of the "Miscellany," a little family periodical, which had a brief, but happy existence.]
Confident, on airy wing,
My vanity soared high;
Like the nightingale I'd sing,
And with the eagle fly.
Soon my sad mistake I found;
I warbling notes had none,
And scarcely rose above the ground,
Before my plumes were gone.
Flatt'ry whispered soft and low,
Of wisdom, fame, and lore;
Woe is me! neglected now,
The pleasant dream is o'er.
Pity, then, my humble state,
And if you can bestow
Tears upon my hapless fate;
Pray let them freely flow.
"I have around me some who exercise my patience, and therefore need the wisdom of the serpent, and the meekness of the dove, that I may be preserved from offending. Last Sabbath, I was tempted to mistrust Providence, as I had not seen a rainbow since the rains commenced; but the following evening—accompanying my husband to York in a very heavy shower—on our left, we saw the broadest and most beautiful bow I ever beheld. I could not help thinking it infinite condescension in the great I AM thus to remove my scruples.—I walked to York alone: but surrounded by proofs of divine wisdom and power, my solitude was sweet; my thoughts meandered like the river, that swept at my side. Reverting to past scenes and circumstances, I wrote with my pencil:
If, through scenes of tribulation,
Lies the pathway to the skies;
Let me yield with resignation,
Sure, Thy ways are always wise.
"A friend has made application for my Sunday-class. In this matter, I do not see my way clear; however, as I was requested to seek another place for it—the old one being required for another purpose—I began to think it was an intimation that I ought to resign, and therefore mentioned the subject to my members, and left it. But calling on a friend, as I returned home, she said, 'she was requested to tell me, that Mr. H. would be glad if I would meet the class at his house' So this difficulty is removed, and there the matter rests. O Lord, direct me by Thy counsel.—Providence seems to thwart my purposes: yet everything appears either to point, urge, allure, or draw me to the skies. I find the beneficial effect of these painful dispensations; but nature struggles still, and the cry of my heart is, make me wholly Thine. Two persons, whom I have visited this week, are no more. One, I doubt not, is gone to Abraham's bosom; the other I must leave, and profit by the admonition to prepare to meet my God. I have been accused of doing as I would not be done by; but my conscience bears we witness to the contrary. Help me, O God, ever to act as in Thy sight.—After the toils of Saturday, I was privileged with being at the band-meeting; but when I reached Miss B's, I fainted, through weakness and fatigue. Praise the Lord, O my soul! Is not every stroke of Thy rod a proof of love, admonishing me that I am but a tenant-at-will, and may be removed at a moment's notice? Lord, make me fully ready.—I found it good in our little village prayer-meeting, and remained with my husband at the Sabbath-school committee. He engaged to assist; and I was constrained to offer my services once a month to converse with the female scholars, which were readily accepted.—In York, I had the opportunity of visiting several afflicted persons: one poor man was much afflicted: it was a blessed day. I have been to Wigginton to visit the afflicted Miss B., to whom I tried to show the necessity of a change of heart, and the sufficiency of the remedy, with the danger of delay."
Come, heavenly Spirit, fill my breast,
With holy, ardent love inflame;
Breathe in my soul the perfect rest
Revealed in Jesus' lovely name.
Blest centre! where I find repose;
My succour, when in deep distress;
The only refuge from my foes;
Jesus, Thy feeblest follower bless.
Thy constant presence, Thine alone
Can satisfy my longing soul;
Supply the good for which I groan;
Thy presence, Lord, shall make me whole.
"Just as the year closes, I take my pen. How solemn! unseen by all but God! How shall I proceed? I am a sinner; but thou art a Saviour—my Saviour! O praise God! unworthy as I am, unprofitable as I have been, Thy peace fills my heart: I am surrounded with God. Glory! glory! glory! a worthless worm! dust and ashes! a potsherd of the earth! yet Jesus died for me. O, live in me; fit me for Thy service, that I may be willing to do or to suffer Thy will. Let me be a whole sacrifice. Jesus is near; He is precious; He has my heart: let the union subsist for ever. Never let me leave Thee more; but through all the vicissitudes of life, keep me; and if I am entering upon my last year, let it be the best of all. Let the odours of the celestial world waft upon me, and invigorate my soul.
"1830.—Midnight. The past year has been one of mingled trial, affliction, and mercy; wisely blended to bring me nearer to God. I think the end has been answered: I feel looser from the world, and my will is more fully subdued. This is the Lord's doing: blessed be His name! I rose early, and shut myself up in my closet, and there the Lord gloriously revealed himself: it was a blessed day, especially, in walking to the city; and among the dear people.—Another piece of encouragement: our servant, who has been brought under serious impressions since she came to us, was last Tuesday enabled to believe unto salvation. O may I walk as God's vicegerent here; that my husband, mother, children, and servants, may all be led to give themselves more fully to Thee.—Our servant man cried aloud for mercy in the chapel. How and where, shall I begin to praise Thee for Thy goodness to my family? I am constrained to acknowledge, that many things, which appeared to be against me, are now working for good. Every bitter has its sweet, and every affliction its blessing; wisely compounded, to bring me more fully to God. Last night we had a prayer-meeting in our kitchen: the spirit of prayer was poured out upon us. One soul obtained peace: and another remained upon his knees upwards of three hours, but did not break through; yet is determined not to rest without the pardoning mercy of God: a third was seeking purity of heart.—Visited S.H., fast sinking in decline. When asked the state of her mind, she said, 'Christ is mine, and I am His.' Blessed assurance! I spoke freely with her mother, whom I found unacquainted with true religion. Two persons came to seek the Lord at the prayer-meeting held in our kitchen—one obtained salvation: truly the Lord is among us: a larger number attended than usual.—We had a numerously attended prayer-meeting, in which three bore testimony to the saving power of Christ; they praised God with a glad heart, and a loud voice: may they become pillars in God's temple.—Many sweet moments have I enjoyed, while engaged in domestic affairs. This morning, I rose to the early prayer-meeting; all nature seemed to congratulate me, and the feathered choristers were singing their matin song of praise. My walk to York afterwards, seemed too short, while musing on the love of Jesus.—In the still hour of night I have had some blessed seasons; but my walk is not equal: I want to live a moment at a time, and all for God. Another of my members has passed into eternity, to join the church above. Just before she expired, she exclaimed, 'What do I see? Glory.'—I am not going to meet my class to-day, my mother is so unwell; yet I feel a struggle as to the path of duty: but surely in this case duty and affection are one. Lord, I aim to please Thee; O help me for Thy name's sake."
SITTING BY MY MOTHER.
O would'st Thou, Lord, descend,
My mother's heart to cheer;
This unbelief to rend,
And dissipate her fear:
Thou glorious Sun, unveil the skies;
With healing in Thy wings arise.
Thy promise, Lord, I hold,
'The evening shall be light,'—
The cloud its pinions fold,
And vanish out of sight:
O Jesus, come, Thy face display.
And eventide is turned to day.
"Proclamation of William the 4th. In company with some friends, I climbed to the top of Clifford's Tower, in hope of seeing the procession; but after waiting more than an hour, I went away disappointed, and grieved at the loss of my time. Let me learn from this, always to do what I believe to be most needful; for my mind was dissipated, and I failed to recover in the class what I had enjoyed in the early hours of the day. O how needful to keep the path of duty, and retire from the multitude.—The Rev. Joseph Agar has dies happily, at Portsmouth: of brain fever. An unusual feeling oppressed my mind on the afternoon of his departure; why, I know not.—The Rev. E. Batty took tea with us, and suggested a method of usefulness, which has for some time been the subject of my thoughts; but to choose, or refuse are Thine: 'Thy will be done.'—I walked to Acomb to visit a friend, and on the way asked myself, why I should go; and not being able to answer for myself, put the case into the hands of God, beseeching him to make my way plain before me; to bless me, and make me a blessing. I met with a kind reception—slept well—and rose about six with a desire to give myself to the Lord. In the afternoon I accompanied Mrs. R. to her class: it was the second time of their meeting. Mrs. R. read the rules; and afterwards, I endeavoured to speak a little to them. When addressing the third, she burst into tears through the disquietude of her soul. We knelt down to pray; and while Mrs. R. was pleading, the woman began to praise God for what He had done for her soul, and said she had been unhappy for years—but that now the Lord had given her peace. We continued on our knees, and in a little while another person, who through unwatchfulness had gone astray, professed that the Lord had restored her soul. The third (for there were but three) went away, resolved not to rest until she had found the Lord.—We went to invite the people to the prayer-meeting in the evening, and then visited the churchyard. There, the solemn silence, dwelling among sepulchral stones and the falling leaves, moved my soul to the consideration of my own mortality. May I so live, that I may hear the welcome words, 'Well done.' I feel deeply on account of my own nothingness. The prayer-meeting to-night is proposed because I am here. I am humbled at the thought. What am I? a poor worm. Oh! wouldest Thou use a thing of nought? prepare the people, prepare me, and pour out Thy holy spirit. I was surprised at the number of people gathered together on so short a notice. The presence of the Lord overshadowed us, and the woman, who was seeking mercy at the class, was filled with peace and joy through believing. I felt humbled under the sense of my own unprofitableness.—I have found retirement very blessed: the Lord poured into my soul a heavenly tranquility. I hope that my visit here will be beneficial to me; and that I shall learn some lessons from the kind family, under whose roof I stay: there is such a sweet submission to each other's will, and such a disposition to prefer others to themselves, as is amiable, and worthy of imitation.—My inward aspiration is, make me all glorious within, that from this pure well-spring, all my thoughts and actions may flow. I enjoy the peace of God, and for some time past, (to the glory of God I speak it,) I have had constant intercourse with heaven. My will is more fully subdued, and I have increasing power to take up my cross; but the duties of life press upon me, and I am in danger of being overwhelmed with care. I thank Thee, O my heavenly Father, for this discovery; and humbly but confidently, ask Thy protection from my foe.—A day of unusual nearness to God:—in the Lord's house; in visiting the poor; reading the rules of society; and social prayer: although dissatisfied with my performances, I feel I have done what I ought.—My spiritual strength has been increased by more frequently engaging in secret prayer. By appointment, I have daily met two friends at the throne of grace, to intercede on behalf of our neighbours: this has been made a blessing to my own soul.—For the first time, my whole family was assembled at Eastfield; but who can tell the emotions of my mind, as I gazed on one and another? I thought unutterable things; but wisely is the future hidden from our view. O my God, be Thou their God. I feel the solemnity of the closing year: its toils and cares are fled for ever; only its comforts will be repeated, if I hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life."
NEAR MIDNIGHT.
The year ebbs apace,
Its sorrows are gone!
Like one in a race,
Its course it hath, run:
Its events, once important, now all disappear,
And time wafts us on to another new year.
Then let us begin,
To aim at the prize;
Leave earth, self, and sin,
For our home in the skies:
Expecting the Bridegroom will shortly appear,
Let as watch his arrival—the coming new year.