Religion in Earnest: A Memorial of Mrs. Mary Lyth, of York

by J. Lyth

XIII.

THE REDEMPTION OF THE PROMISE.

"BE NOT AFRAID, ONLY BELIEVE."—Mark v. 36.

"All the promises of God are in Him, yea; and in Him, amen; unto the glory of God;" then, why doubt them? since God's own honour, and faithfulness, which are dearer to Him than aught beside, are concerned in their fulfilment. The christian believer has nothing to do with the difficulties, or seeming delay of the accomplishment; but only with the unfailing word of God. If you find the promise, take it, hold it fast; and, according to thy faith, it shall be done unto thee. Mrs. Lyth believed the word of God; and when a promise was applied to her mind, she did not lose sight of it; but patiently waited until it was redeemed. More than one instance occurs in her journal, in which she refers back to some promise, which she had previously received; and the fulfilment of which, she was expecting. This was particularly the case with reference to her mother's experience, who, though not forsaken, passed her latter days in mourning, being pressed down by constant affliction, and the weight of years. Mrs. Lyth felt acutely on this account; but, the promise given in answer to prayer, "At evening time it shall be light," was held fast, through a period of five years. The period of its redemption was at hand.

"1831.—'Let Thy statutes be my delight in the house of my pilgrimage.' As my journey shortens, may the assurance of a happy reception at the end, increase: I think it does. I have a blessed conviction that, through the merits of my Redeemer, I shall see Him without a veil between. This hope makes my spirit rejoice, when nothing external excites me. Musing on my way to the city, upon the 'charity' that 'never faileth,' and its many excellent attributes; I found myself deficient in that, which 'thinketh no evil.' Under some circumstances, I am apt to draw hasty conclusions. O forgive, and help Thy dust to be more guarded.—A friend calling in, I took up my cross, (for it was one,) to go to the prayer-meeting; the night being dark, the roads dirty, and the place distant: but I was well repaid. A goodly number were present, and the Lord was there.—My husband was at York with the gig. Mr. H. called to inform us, that in consequence of the wind, and drifted snow, he thought it would be impossible for him to return home. Concerned for his safety, I sent a man and horse to meet him, and betook myself to prayer; which the Lord condescended to hear, and answer: for after my husband had forced his way through many snow-drifts, the harness broke, just as the man met him; and he could not have proceeded further without assistance: so in the time of need there was help. I could not but regard it as providential, that Mr. H. called; and also that the man arrived at the moment he was required. My obligations to the Lord increase daily.—The twenty-fifth anniversary of my wedding day. THEN, my husband tells me, the bloom of the rose sat on my cheek; NOW, I am shrinking into an old woman, hair grey, teeth gone, bloom faded, and my eyes dim: but, through the mercy of God, though my outward tabernacle is thus sinking in decay, my spiritual strength is daily renewed; the vigour of my mind is not abated; my understanding is clearer, and my faith stronger than ever. And though, by the light that shines upon my soul, I discover more of my natural depravity; the Lord, by his Spirit, graciously draws me to himself, the true remedy; and blesses me with a sense of his presence. Glory be to His name for an interest in the blood of sprinkling. Here is the source of my happiness, and all I want is here. THEN—I had a father and mother who loved and cared for me: NOW—my father is gone to his reward, and my mother is sunk in decrepitude, daily waiting her release; and I, myself a mother, have resting upon me the care and anxiety of a family; but I have inherited the promise, which descends from generation to generation. THEN—I looked forward to what might be my future portion: NOW—I look back through five and twenty years, in which goodness and mercy have followed me until now; although my passage through the wilderness has all along been marked with unfaithfulness. Here my heart fills with gratitude. What shall I render to the Lord for all his goodness towards me? THEN—I had many friends, who are NOW passed away; but Jesus is my never-failing Friend, and through His grace, I hope soon to meet again those, who 'through faith and patience have inherited the promises.' THEN—I had much to endure and suffer; but NOW—five and twenty years of trial and suffering are over, with only one regret, that I have not suffered more patiently, and expected more largely from Him, who orders all things for the best. What still awaits me is only known to Thee; but prepare me for the event, and let Thy will be done. This is my heart's desire, uttered I believe, in the spirit of resignation; but it is Thy doing, and to Thee be all the glory. And now, I present to Thee my dear husband, and my five children: let us all be Thine—Thine to guide, Thine to save, Thine to govern, and Thine to crown."

"Seven years ago my dear father entered into rest."

This day, replete with memories dear,
The well-known image brings to view
Of him, whose name I still revere;
Whose worth till lost, I never knew.
My father, (still the name is sweet!)
Now in a fairer region dwells:
Him gladly will I go to meet,
Though wild between us Jordan swells.

"My dear mother continues very feeble, and much of my time, night and day, is devoted to her. She suffers from manifold temptations; yet I am encouraged to believe she will be delivered. Make no long tarrying, O my God,—Yesterday and to-day I have been severely and painfully exercised on account of my mother: still I hang upon the word of the promise, 'In the eventide it shall be light. Yesterday she said, 'The will of the Lord be done.'—She tells me this morning she enjoys peace. Her memory is much impaired. My mind is much distressed, but finds its rest in God. It seems, as if by diversity of trial, the Lord wills to purge my affections. O let Thy will be done. Help me, however nature rebels, fully to give up my own will. Blessed be God, my soul enjoys peace. 'I trust in Him, who stands between the Father's wrath and me.' My dear mother's weakness increases; but she says this morning, she dare not doubt of going to heaven.—I sat up with my dear mother. About half-past twelve she was convulsed, and felt sick; then, she dosed a little; then sick again,—called for Richard,—wandered,—evidently changed for death, and had a severe struggle, often saying, 'Do help me, do.' Her sufferings were acute. Once she said, 'Lord, help me;' and again, 'Hope thou in God, for I shall yet pr——;' but the words were interrupted by her sufferings, My anguish of mind is known to Thee. As I stood by the fire the words were suggested,

'Thy warfare's past, thy mourning's o'er; Look up, for thou shalt weep no more.'

I was comforted. My dear husband, cousin, and Mary, found great consolation in prayer just before her departure. Her last words were, 'Pray, pray;' 'Lord, Lord.' Thus, about half-past one on the 23rd of March, my dear mother 'fell asleep,' aged seventy-two years and three weeks."

And though in ruin now her body lies,
A peaceful smile upon her face is spread:
The struggle o'er—her spirit upward flies,
To join the spirits of the blessed dead.

"My dear departed mother was interred in St. Lawrence churchyard, by the side of my beloved father; leaving the impressive admonition—'prepare to follow.' I feel it—my heart determines—my will submits—I have set about it. Lord help me to persevere."

LOOK UPWARD.

Oh! how uncertain all below!
Our comforts cause us pain;
Smiling, they sting us as they go,
Ne'er to return again.
Then upward turn thy weeping eye;
Nor, like yon drooping tree,
Bend downward to the earth; on high
See Jesus looks on thee.
Jesus! what balm is in that sound!
It bids our tears away;
Spreads life and happiness around;
Converts the night to day.
To feel Thy dying love, be mine;
To hear Thy charming voice;
The ceaseless whisper, 'I am Thine,'
Shall bid my heart rejoice.
Dearer than sons or daughters; Thou;
Dearer than mother's love;
Gladly for Thee I all forego,
And seek my bliss above.

"I went to Wigginton to visit a young woman, whom I found praising God for having afflicted her, and brought her to the knowledge of the truth. To some others, I was powerfully constrained to speak respecting their souls.—Miss Bentley came for a few days. We visited many of the villagers, to put them in mind to prepare for eternity.—Mr. Hope announced from the pulpit, that it was his wish I should commence a class in Haxby on Monday evening, at seven o'clock. The words occurred to me, 'By whom shall Jacob arise, for he is small?' O my God, to Thee my obligations are great, and my weaknesses are all known; but if this is from Thee, bring it to pass; let there be some token for good, some rending of heart among the people.—According to appointment I went to Haxby, to meet any who were desirous of fleeing from the wrath to come. Three persons came; two of them backsliders, and one who has never met before.—Visited several of the villagers. At one place I felt much while bowed at the throne of grace. A little boy, to whom I afterwards addressed a few words, burst into tears. O that the Lord would poor out His Spirit, and bow their hearts to His sway! O Lord, let not my unfaithfulness hinder Thy work.—After meeting my class in the city, I went on to Heslington to see Mr. K., who is apparently on his death-bed. I endeavoured to speak faithfully; but unless the Spirit of God apply the truth, vain is the help of man. I feel much out of love with myself.—Walked again to see Mr. K., who appears as teachable as a little child. I feel encouraged to hope that he will lay hold upon Jesus. But O how dangerous to delay until death stares us in the face!—Went to Haxby, and found only one to meet me there: but the Lord met her, which was better than numbers without Him. O God, keep this precious soul—this asked-for token of Thy love. While sitting under the word, the Lord made it as a broad river to my soul. 'Blessed are the pure in heart,' was the subject. Tears of love and gratitude rolled down my cheeks, and love filled my heart; for I felt myself a partaker of this great salvation."

Thus may I ever live,
And feel the power divine;
Taught by Thy Spirit to believe
This full salvation mine.

"With a painful headache I walked to York; but the satisfaction of mind I felt in keeping the path of duty, amply repaid me. I think a general blessing was experienced.—While pleading with God, these words were applied, 'I am Thy salvation.' I felt confidence, but not all I want. I seem only on the edge of living; I want to be 'plunged in the Godhead's deepest sea.'—Six months since my dear mother departed! She is daily the subject of my thoughts, and her memory becomes increasingly dear to me. Well, it is but a short separation—a thin partition; my earthly tabernacle feels the force of time—it crumbles and decays; but by faith I look for a more durable habitation, where I shall meet those who are gone before."

Time rolls away—yet fresh the scene appears
When my dear mother left this vale of tears;
Then, sorrow stamped its seal upon my heart;
Nature recoiled—but grace relieved the smart.

"Mr. R., discoursing on the necessity of exercising a forgiving spirit, illustrated his subject by the following anecdote:—An officer in the army lying on his deathbed, sent for one of the preachers to visit him. On his entering the room, the sick man asked him, if he remembered that he was once insulted by a company of officers while he was preaching in Dublin. The preacher remembered it well. He then told him, that he had been one of the worst of them; and had sent to ask him to pray for him, and to teach him what he must do to be saved,—as he believed he was a dying man, and was unprepared for another world. The minister pointed him to the Saviour; and after praying with him several times, was about to depart, when the officer offered him a handsome present for his services. This he refused, and took his leave. On passing through the hall, one of the servants accosted him, "What a pity my master won't see his son, and has cut him off with a shilling, although he would gladly see his father." The minister immediately returned to the sick man, and repeated to him the Lord's prayer until he came to the words, 'as we forgive them that trespass against us;' he then stopped, and asked him if he forgave every one. The officer paused a moment and replied, 'There is one whom I do not forgive, and cannot.' 'Then,' said the minister, 'neither will your heavenly Father forgive you your trespasses.' After some deliberation, it was agreed that the son should be sent for. He came, fell on his knees at the bedside, and with tears in his eyes, pressed his father's hand to his lips, and begged his forgiveness. The father's relentings were kindled: upon which the minister sung—

'The op'ning heavens around me shine,
With beams of sacred bliss;
When—

'When!' cried the officer, 'nay

Now, Jesus shows His mercy mine. And whispers I am His.'

"Called upon Mr. and Miss K. They had company: I was preserved from unprofitable conversation, and dared to speak for God. On my return, I passed through the churchyard, where the remains of my dear parents are deposited. It was a beautiful moonlight night; and I stopped to shed a silent tear over the much-loved dust, in hope of joining them again in the realms above. Lord, help me on my way.—I went to see a backslider, whom the Lord had made willing to return. After conversing a little, we knelt down to prayer. Her husband prayed; then she began, and while confessing her sins and pleading for mercy, the Lord looked upon her in compassion, and healed her backslidings. The same afternoon, she came and joined herself with the people of God."

"Alone in the room where my venerated mother breathed her last."

Though no famed eulogy proclaims her worth,
Nor with her fellow-pilgrims ranked on earth,
A higher record doth her history trace;
In heaven's high register she claims a place.
Retiring, and unknown or but to few,
Her latter days were hid from public view;
But I have often witness'd, when alone—
The prayer uplifted, and the sigh unknown.
When no eye saw her, but with God shut in,
She pour'd her plaint to Him, who saw, unseen;
Then from the sacred word she succour drew,
'To hoary hairs I bear, I carry you.'
This promise still her drooping spirit cheered,
And shed its starlight when the night appeared.
Bold, in her weakness, close the foe pursued,
And oft the bitter conflict was renewed;
Conqu'ror at last, she calmly soared away,
And left a smile upon the passive clay.

I heard Mr. Dawson, from 'Peter followed afar off'—a season, I hope, never to be forgotten; for then Richard made up his mind to accept the invitation, and 'come near,' as Mr. D. expressed it. This to me is matter of joy and thanksgiving; for since I knew that Mr. D. was coming, it has been my prayer, that his visit might be made a blessing to some, not particularly thinking of my son. Thus, beyond my expectation, has the Lord condescended to my prayer.

AFTER A FIT OF SICKNESS.

While thousands in Thy courts are found,
Waiting on bended knee;
Behold, in solitude, a worm,
That dares approach to Thee,
To me the heavenly gift impart,
Thy Holy Spirit send;
To fill and sanctify my heart,
And bid its wand'rings end.
Then health or sickness let me share,
As wills eternal love;
For all is well, if Thou art near,
Thy creature to approve.
My grateful thanks for ease I bring,
And every comfort given;
Nor less for sorrows, sent to wing
My grov'lling soul to heaven.
Great God! to Thee my wishes flow,
Who dost my life prolong;
Thy witness let me live below,
Thy statutes be my song.

"Ere the day broke, the Lord broke in upon my soul with the words, 'Thy sun shall no more go down, nor Thy moon withdraw itself, for the Lord shall be thy everlasting light, and the days of thy mourning shall be ended.' Such light shone upon the whole chapter, as filled my soul with gratitude for the rich promises given to the people of God.—Called to see a man and his wife, both sick, to whom the Lord has blessed affliction. The man was rejoicing in the Lord, and the woman is resolved not to rest short of salvation. While we united in prayer she received some encouragement."