The Dairyman's Daughter

by Legh Richmond

CHAPTER III.

The mind of man is like a moving picture, supplied with objects not only from contemplation on things present, but from the fruitful sources of recollection and anticipation.

Memory retraces past events, and restores an

ideal reality to scenes which are gone by for ever. They live again in revived imagery, and we seem to hear and see with renewed emotions what we heard and saw at a former period. Successions of such recollected circumstances often form a series of welcome memorials. In religious meditations the memory becomes a sanctified instrument of spiritual improvement.

Another part of this animated picture is furnished by the pencil of Hope. She draws encouraging prospects for the soul, by connecting the past and present with the future. Seeing the promises afar off, she is persuaded of their truth, and embraces them as her own.

The Spirit of God gives a blessing to both these acts of the mind, and employs them in the service of religion. Every faculty of body and soul, when considered as a part of “the purchased possession” of the Saviour, assumes a new character. How powerfully does the apostle, on this ground, urge a plea for holy activity and watchfulness! “What! know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are not your own? For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s” (1 Cor. vi. 19, 20).

The Christian may derive much profit and

enjoyment from the use of the memory, as it concerns those transactions in which he once bore a part. In his endeavours to recall past conversations and intercourse with deceased friends in particular, the powers of remembrance greatly improve by exercise. One revived idea produces another, till the mind is most agreeably and usefully occupied with lively and holy imaginations.

“Lull’d in the countless chambers of the brain,
Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain;
Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise!
Each stamps its image as the other flies;
Each, as the varied avenues of sense
Delight or sorrow to the soul dispense,
Brightens or fades: yet all with sacred art
Control the latent fibres of the heart.”

May it please God to bless, both to the reader and the writer, this feeble attempt to recollect some of the communications I once enjoyed in my visits to the Dairyman’s dwelling!

Very soon after the receipt of the last letter, I rode, for the first time, to see the family at their own house. The principal part of the road lay through retired, narrow lanes, beautifully overarched with groves of nut and other trees, which screened the traveller from the rays of the sun, and afforded many interesting objects for admiration

in the flowers, shrubs, and young trees which grew upon the high banks on each side of the road. Many grotesque rocks, with little trickling streams of water occasionally breaking out of them, varied the recluse scenery, and produced a romantic and pleasing effect.

Here and there the most distant prospect beyond was observable through gaps and hollow places on the road-side. Lofty hills, with navy signal-posts, obelisks, and lighthouses on their summits, appeared at these intervals; rich cornfields were also visible through some of the open places; and now and then, when the road ascended a hill, the sea, with ships at various distances, was seen. But for the most part shady seclusion, and objects of a more minute and confined nature, gave a character to the journey and invited contemplation.

How much do they lose who are strangers to serious meditation on the wonders and beauties of nature! How gloriously the God of creation shines in his works! Not a tree, or leaf, or flower, not a bird or insect, but it proclaims in glowing language, “God made me.”

As I approached the village where the good old Dairyman dwelt, I observed him in a little field, driving his cows before him towards a yard and hovel which adjoined his cottage. I advanced

very near him without his observing me, for his sight was dim. On my calling out to him, he started at the sound of my voice, but with much gladness of heart welcomed me, saying, “Bless your heart, sir, I am very glad you are come; we have looked for you every day this week.”

The cottage-door opened, and the daughter came out, followed by her aged and infirm mother. The sight of me naturally brought to recollection the grave at which we had before met. Tears of affection mingled with the smile of satisfaction with which I was received by these worthy cottagers. I dismounted, and was conducted through a neat little garden, part of which was shaded by two large overspreading elm trees, to the house. Decency and order were manifest within and without. No excuse was made here, on the score of poverty, for confusion and uncleanliness in the disposal of their little household. Everything wore the aspect of neatness and propriety. On each side of the fire-place stood an old oaken chair, where the venerable parents rested their weary limbs after the day’s labour was over. On a shelf in one corner lay two Bibles, with a few religious books and tracts. The little room had two windows; a lovely prospect of hills, woods, and fields appeared

through one; the other was more than half obscured by the branches of a vine which was trained across it; between its leaves the sun shone, and cast a cheerful light over the whole place.

“This,” thought I, “is a fit residence for piety, peace, and contentment. May I learn a fresh lesson for advancement in each, through the blessing of God, on this visit!”

“Sir,” said the daughter, “we are not worthy that you should come under our roof. We take it very kind that you should travel so far to see us.”

“My Master,” I replied, “came a great deal farther to visit us poor sinners. He left the bosom of his Father, laid aside his glory, and came down to this lower world on a visit of mercy and love; and ought not we, if we profess to follow Him, to bear each other’s infirmities, and go about doing good as He did?”

The old man now entered, and joined his wife and daughter in giving me a cordial welcome. Our conversation soon turned to the loss they had so lately sustained. The pious and sensible disposition of the daughter was peculiarly manifested, as well in what she said to her parents as in what she more immediately addressed to myself. I had now a further opportunity of

remarking the good sense and agreeable manner which accompanied her expressions of devotedness to God and love to Christ, for the great mercies which He had bestowed upon her. During her residence in different gentlemen’s families where she had been in service, she had acquired a superior behaviour and address; but sincere piety rendered her very humble and unassuming in manner and conversation. She seemed anxious to improve the opportunity of my visit to the best purpose for her own and her parents’ sake; yet there was nothing of unbecoming forwardness, no self-sufficiency or conceitedness in her conduct. She united the firmness and solicitude of the Christian with the modesty of the female and the dutifulness of the daughter. It was impossible to be in her company, and not observe how truly her temper and conversation adorned the principles which she professed.

I soon discovered how eager and how successful also she had been in her endeavours to bring her father and mother to the knowledge and experience of the truth. This is a lovely feature in the character of a young Christian. If it have pleased God, in the free dispensation of his mercy, to call the child by his grace, while the parent remains still in ignorance and sin, how

great is the duty incumbent on that child to do what is possible to promote the conversion of those to whom so much is owing. Happy is it when the ties of grace sanctify those of nature.

The aged couple evidently regarded and spoke of this daughter as their teacher and admonisher in Divine things, while at the same time they received from her every token of filial submission and obedience, testified by continual endeavours to serve and assist them to the utmost of her power in the daily concerns of the household.

The religion of this young woman was of a highly spiritual character, and of no ordinary attainment. Her views of the Divine plan of saving the sinner were clear and scriptural. She spoke much of the joys and sorrows which, in the course of her religious progress, she had experienced; but she was fully sensible that there is far more in real religion than mere occasional transition from one frame of mind and spirits to another. She believed that the experimental acquaintance of the heart with God principally consisted in so living upon Christ by faith, as to aim at living like Him by love. She knew that the love of God toward the sinner, and the path of duty prescribed to the sinner, are both of an unchangeable nature. In a believing

dependence on the one, and an affectionate walk in the other, she sought and found “the peace of God which passeth all understanding;” “for so He giveth his beloved rest.”

She had read but few books besides her Bible; but these few were excellent in their kind, and she spoke of their contents as one who knew their value. In addition to a Bible and Prayer-book, “Doddridge’s Rise and Progress,” “Romaine’s Life, Walk, and Triumph of Faith,” “Bunyan’s Pilgrim,” “Allein’s Alarm,” “Baxter’s Saint’s Everlasting Rest,” a hymn-book, and a few tracts, composed her library.

I observed in her countenance a pale and delicate hue, which I afterwards found to be a presage of consumption; and the idea then occurred to me that she would not live very long.

Time passed on swiftly with this interesting family; and after having partaken of some plain and wholesome refreshment, and enjoyed a few hours’ conversation with them, I found it was necessary for me to return homewards. The disposition and character of the parties may be in some sort ascertained by the expressions at parting.

“God send you safe home again,” said the aged mother, “and bless the day that brought

you to see two poor old creatures, such as we are, in our trouble and affliction. Come again, sir, come again when you can; and though I am a poor ignorant soul, and not fit to talk to such a gentleman as you, yet my dear child shall speak for me; she is the greatest comfort I have left; and I hope the good Lord will spare her to support my trembling limbs and feeble spirits, till I lie down with my other dear departed kindred in the grave.”

“Trust to the Lord,” I answered, “and remember his gracious promise: ‘Even to your old age I am He; and even to hoary hairs I will carry you.’”

“I thank you, sir,” said the daughter, “for your Christian kindness to me and my friends. I believe the blessing of the Lord has attended your visit, and I hope I have experienced it to be so. My dear father and mother will, I am sure, remember it; and I rejoice in the opportunity of seeing so kind a friend under this roof. My Saviour has been abundantly good to me in plucking me ‘as a brand from the burning,’ and showing me the way of life and peace; and I hope it is my heart’s desire to live to his glory. But I long to see these dear friends enjoy the power and comfort of religion likewise.”

“I think it evident,” I replied, “that the

promise is fulfilled in their case: ‘It shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light.’”

“I believe it,” she said, “and praise God for the blessed hope.”

“Thank Him too, that you have been the happy instrument of bringing them to the light.”

“I do, sir; yet, when I think of my own unworthiness and insufficiency, I rejoice with trembling.”

“Sir,” said the good old man, “I am sure the Lord will reward you for this kindness. Pray for us, old as we are, and sinners as we have been, that yet He would have mercy upon us at the eleventh hour. Poor Betsy strives much for our sakes, both in body and soul; she works hard all day to save us trouble, and I fear has not strength to support all she does; and then she talks to us, and reads to us, and prays for us, that we may be saved from the wrath to come. Indeed, sir, she is a rare child to us.”

“Peace be unto you and all that belong to you!”

“Amen, and thank you, dear sir,” was echoed from each tongue.

Thus we parted for that time. My returning meditations were sweet, and, I hope, profitable.

Many other visits were afterwards made by me to this peaceful cottage, and I always found

increasing reason to thank God for the intercourse I there enjoyed.

An interval of some length occurred once during that year, in which I had not seen the Dairyman’s family. I was reminded of the circumstance by the receipt of the following letter:

“Rev. Sir,

“I have been expecting to see or hear from you for a considerable time. Excuse the liberty I take in sending you another letter. I have been confined to the house the greater part of the time since I left ---. I took cold that day, and have been worse ever since. I walk out a little on these fine days, but seem to myself to walk very near on the borders of eternity. Glory be to God, it is a very pleasing prospect before me. Though I feel the workings of sin, and am abased, yet Jesus shows his mercy to be mine, and I trust that I am his. At such times

“My soul would leave this heavy clay
At his transporting word,
Run up with joy the shining way
To meet and prove the Lord.

“Fearless of hell and ghastly death,
I’d break through every foe;
The wings of love and arms of faith
Would bear me conqueror through.”

My desire is to live every moment to God, that I may through his grace be kept in that heavenly, happy frame of mind that I shall wish for at the hour of death. We cannot live nor die happy without this, and to keep it we must be continually watching and praying: for we have many enemies to disturb our peace. I am so very weak, that now I can go nowhere to any outward means for that help which is so refreshing to my spirit.

“I should have been very happy to have heard you last Sunday, when you preached at ---: I could not walk so far. I hope the Word spoken by you was made a blessing to many that heard it. It was my earnest prayer to God that it might be so. But, alas! once calling does not awaken many that are in a sound sleep. Yet the voice of God is sometimes very powerful when his ministers speak, when they are influenced by his Holy Spirit, and are simple and sincere in holding forth the Word of Life. Then it will teach us all things, and enlighten our mind, and reveal unto us the hidden things of darkness, and give us out of that Divine treasure ‘things new and old.’ Resting on God to work in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure, we ought always to work as diligent servants, that know they have a good Master, that will surely not forget their labour of love.

“If we could but fix our eyes always on that crown of glory that awaits us in the skies, we should never grow weary in well-doing, but should run with patience, and delight in the work and ways of God, where He appoints us. We should not then, as we too frequently do, suffer these trifling objects here on earth to draw our minds from God, to rob Him of his glory, and our souls of that happiness and comfort which the believer may enjoy amidst outward afflictions. If we thus lived more by faith on the Son of God, we should endeavour to stir up all whom we could to seek after God. We should tell them what He has done for us, and what He would do for them if they truly sought Him. We should show them what a glorious expectation there is for all true believers and sincere seekers.

“When our minds are so fixed on God, we are more desirous of glorifying Him, in making known his goodness to us, than the proud rich man is of getting honour to himself. I mourn over my own backwardness to this exercise of duty when I think of God’s willingness to save the vilest of the vile, according to the dispensations of his eternal grace and mercy. Oh, how amiable, how lovely does this make that God of love appear to poor sinners, that can view Him as such! How is the soul delighted with such a contemplation! They that have much forgiven, how much they love!

“These thoughts have been much on my mind since the death of ---. I trust the Lord will pardon me for neglect. I thought it was my duty to speak or write to him; you remember what I said to you respecting it. But I still delayed till a more convenient season. Oh, how I was struck when I heard the Lord had taken him so suddenly! I was filled with sorrow and shame for having neglected what I had so often resolved to do. But now the time of speaking for God to him was over. Hence we see that the Lord’s time is the best time. Now the night of death was come upon him; no more work was to be done. If I had done all that lay in my power to proclaim reconciliation by Christ to his soul, whether he had heard or no, I should have been more clear of his blood. But I cannot recall the time that is past, nor him from the grave. Had I known the Lord would have called him so suddenly, how diligent I should have been to warn him of his danger. But it is enough that God shows us what we are to do, and not what He is about to do with us or any of his creatures. Pray, sir, do all you can for the glory of God. The time will soon pass by, and then we shall enter that glorious rest that He hath prepared for them that love Him. I pray God to fill you with that zeal and love which He only can inspire, that you may daily win souls to Christ. May He deliver you from all slavish fear of man, and give you boldness, as He did of old those that were filled with the Holy Ghost and with power!

“Remember, Christ hath promised to be with all his faithful ministers to the end of time. The greater dangers and difficulties they are exposed to, the more powerful his assistance. Then, sir, let us fear none but Him. I hope you will pray much for me a poor sinner, that God will perfect his strength in my weakness of body and mind; for without Him I can do nothing. But when I can experience the teaching of that Holy One, I need no other teacher. May the Lord anoint you with the same, and give you every grace of his Holy Spirit, that you may be filled with all the fulness of God; that you may know what is the height and depth, the length and breadth of the love of God in Christ Jesus; that you may be in the hand of the Lord, as a keen archer to draw the bow, while the Lord directs and fastens the arrows of conviction in the hearts of such as are under your ministry!

“I sincerely pray that you may be made a blessing to him that has taken the place of the deceased. I have heard that you are fellow-countrymen. I hope you are, however, both as strangers in this world, that have no abiding place, but seek a country out of sight. Pray excuse all faults,

“From your humble servant in the bonds of the Gospel of Christ,

“E--- W---.”

When I perused this and other letters, which were at different times written to me by the Dairyman’s daughter, I felt that in the person of this interesting correspondent were singularly united the characters of an humble disciple and a faithful monitor. I wished to acknowledge the goodness of God in each of these her capacities.

I sometimes entertain a hope that the last day will unfold the value of these epistolary communications, beyond even any present estimate of their spiritual importance.

CHAPTER IV.

The translation of sinners “from the power of darkness into the kingdom of God’s dear Son,” is the joy of Christians and the admiration of angels. Every penitent and pardoned soul is a new witness to the triumphs of the Redeemer over sin, death, and the grave. How great the change that is wrought! The child of wrath becomes a monument of grace—a brand plucked from the burning! “If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” How marvellous, how interesting is the spiritual history of each individual believer! He is, like David, “a wonder unto many;” but the greatest wonder of all to himself. Others may doubt whether it be so or not; but to him it is unequivocally proved, that, from first to last, grace alone reigns in the work of his salvation.

The character and privileges of real Christians are beautifully described in the language of our Church, which, when speaking of the objects of Divine favour and compassion, says: “They that be endued with so excellent a benefit of God, be called according to God’s purpose in due season; they through grace obey the calling:

they be justified freely: they be made sons of God by adoption: they be made like the image of his only-begotten Son, Jesus Christ: they walk religiously in good works; and at length, by God’s mercy, they attain to everlasting felicity.”

Such a conception and display of the Almighty wisdom, power, and love, is indeed “full of sweet, pleasant, and unspeakable comfort to godly persons, and such as feel in themselves the working of the Spirit of Christ mortifying the works of the flesh, and their earthly members; and drawing up their minds to high and heavenly things: it doth greatly establish and confirm their faith of eternal salvation, to be enjoyed through Christ, and doth fervently kindle their love towards God.”

Nearly allied to the consolation of a good hope through grace, as it respects our own personal state before God, is that of seeing its evidences shed lustre over the disposition and conduct of others. Bright was the exhibition of the union between true Christian enjoyment and Christian exertion, in the character whose moral and spiritual features I am attempting to delineate.

It seemed to be the first wish of her heart to prove to others, what God had already proved

to her, that Jesus is “the Way, the Truth, and the Life.” She desired to evince the reality of her calling, justification, and adoption into the family of God, by showing a conformity to the image of Christ, and by walking “religiously in good works;” she trusted that, in this path of faith and obedience, she should “at length, by God’s mercy, attain to everlasting felicity.”

I had the spiritual charge of another parish, adjoining to that in which I resided. It was a small district, and had but few inhabitants. The church was pleasantly situated on a rising bank, at the foot of a considerable hill. It was surrounded by trees, and had a rural, retired appearance. Close to the churchyard stood a large old mansion, which had formerly been the residence of an opulent and titled family; but it had long since been appropriated to the use of the estate as a farm-house. Its outward aspect bore considerable remains of ancient grandeur, and gave a pleasing character to the spot of ground on which the church stood.

In every direction the roads that led to this house of God possessed distinct but interesting features. One of them ascended between several rural cottages, from the sea-shore, which adjoined the lower part of the village street. Another winded round the curved sides of the adjacent

hill, and was adorned both above and below with numerous sheep, feeding on the herbage on the down. A third road led to the church by a gently rising approach, between high banks, covered with young trees, bushes, ivy, hedge-plants, and wild flowers.

From a point of land which commanded a view of all these several avenues, I used sometimes for a while to watch my congregation gradually assembling together at the hour of Sabbath worship. They were in some directions visible for a considerable distance. Gratifying associations of thought would form in my mind, as I contemplated their approach, and successive arrival within the precincts of the house of prayer.

One day, as I was thus occupied, during a short interval previous to the hour of Divine service, I reflected on the joy which David experienced, at the time he exclaimed: “I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord. Our feet shall stand within thy gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem is builded as a city that is compact together: whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give thanks unto the Lord” (Psa. cxxii. 1-4).

I was led to reflect upon the various blessings

connected with the establishment of public worship. “How many immortal souls are now gathering together, to perform the all-important work of prayer and praise—to hear the Word of God—to feed upon the Bread of Life! They are leaving their respective dwellings, and will soon be united together in the house of prayer. How beautifully does this represent the effect produced by the voice of ‘the Good Shepherd,’ calling his sheep from every part of the wilderness into his fold! As these fields, hills, and lanes are now covered with men, women, and children, in various directions, drawing near to each other, and to the object of their journey’s end: even so, many ‘shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God’” (Luke xiii. 29).

Who can rightly appreciate the value of such hours as these?—hours spent in learning the ways of holy pleasantness and the paths of heavenly peace—hours devoted to the service of God and of souls; in warning the sinner to flee from the wrath to come; in teaching the ignorant how to live and die; in preaching the Gospel to the poor; in healing the broken-hearted; in declaring “deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind.” “Blessed is

the people that know the joyful sound; they shall walk, O Lord, in the light of thy countenance. In thy name shall they rejoice all the day, and in thy righteousness shall they be exalted.”

My thoughts then pursued a train of reflection on the importance of the ministerial office, as connected in the purposes of God with the salvation of sinners. I inwardly prayed that those many individuals whom He had given me to instruct, might not, through my neglect or error, be as sheep having no shepherd, nor as the blind led by the blind; but rather that I might, in season and out of season, faithfully proclaim the simple and undisguised truths of the Gospel, to the glory of God and the prosperity of his Church.

At that instant, near the bottom of the inclosed lane which led to the churchyard, I observed a friend, whom, at such a distance from his own home, I little expected to meet. It was the venerable Dairyman. He came up the ascent, leaning with one hand on his trusty staff, and with the other on the arm of a younger man, well known to me, who appeared to be much gratified in meeting with such a companion by the way.

My station was on the top of one of the banks

which formed the hollow road beneath. They passed a few yards below me. I was concealed from their sight by a projecting tree. They were talking of the mercies of God, and the unsearchable riches of his grace. The Dairyman was telling his companion what a blessing the Lord had given him in his daughter. His countenance brightened as he named her, and called her his precious Betsy.

I met them at a stile not many yards beyond, and accompanied them to the church, which was hard by.

“Sir,” said the old man, “I have brought a letter from my daughter: I hope I am in time for Divine service. Seven miles is now become a long walk for me: I grow old and weak. I am very glad to see you, sir.”

“How is your daughter?”

“Very poorly, indeed, sir: very poorly. The doctors say it is a decline. I sometimes hope she will get the better of it; but then again I have many fears. You know, sir, that I have cause to love and prize her. Oh, it would be such a trial; but the Lord knows what is best. Excuse my weakness, sir.”

He put a letter into my hand, the perusal of which I reserved till afterwards, as the time was nigh for going into church.

The presence of this aged pilgrim, the peculiar reverence and affection with which he joined in the different parts of the service, excited many gratifying thoughts in my mind; such as rather furthered than interrupted devotion.

The train of reflection in which I had engaged, when I first discovered him on the road, at intervals recurred powerfully to my feelings, as I viewed that very congregation assembled together in the house of God, whose steps, in their approach towards it, I had watched with prayerful emotions.

“Here the rich and poor meet together in mutual acknowledgment, that the Lord is the Maker of them all; that all are alike dependent creatures, looking up to one common Father to supply their wants both temporal and spiritual.

“Again, likewise, will they meet together in the grave, that undistinguished receptacle of the opulent and the needy.

“And once more, at the judgment-seat of Christ, shall the rich and the poor meet together, ‘that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad’” (2 Cor. v. 10).

“How closely connected in the history of man are these three periods of a general meeting together!

“The house of prayer—the house appointed for all living—and the house not made with hands eternal in the heavens. May we never separate these ideas from each other, but retain them in a sacred and profitable union! So shall our worshipping assemblies on earth be representatives of the general assembly and Church of the firstborn which are written in heaven.”

When the congregation dispersed, I entered into discourse with the Dairyman and a few of the poor of my flock, whose minds were of like disposition to his own. He seldom could speak long together without some reference to his dear child. He loved to tell how merciful his God had been to him, in the dutiful and affectionate attentions of his daughter. All real Christians feel a tender spiritual attachment towards those who have been the instrument of bringing them to an effectual knowledge of the way of salvation: but when that instrument is one so nearly allied, how dear does the relationship become!

If my friend the Dairyman was in any danger of falling into idolatry, his child would have been the idol of his affections. She was the prop and stay of her parents’ declining years, and they scarcely knew how sufficiently to testify the gratitude of their hearts, for the comfort and

blessing which she was the means of affording them.

While he was relating several particulars of his family history to the others, I opened and read the following letter:—

“Sir,—Once more I take the liberty to trouble you with a few lines. I received your letter with great pleasure, and thank you for it. I am now so weak, that I am unable to walk to any public place of Divine worship: a privilege which has heretofore always so much strengthened and refreshed me. I used to go in anxious expectation to meet my God, and hold sweet communion with Him, and I was seldom disappointed. In the means of grace, all the channels of Divine mercy are open to every heart that is lifted up to receive out of that Divine fulness grace for grace. These are the times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord. How have I rejoiced to hear a faithful and lively messenger, just come, as it were, from communion with God at the throne of grace, with his heart warmed and filled with Divine love, to speak to fallen sinners! Such an one has seemed to me as if his face shone as that of Moses did with the glory of God, when he came down from the mount, where he had been within the veil. May you, sir, imitate him, as he did Christ, that all may see and know that the Lord dwelleth with you, and that you dwell in Him through the unity of the blessed Spirit. I trust you are no stranger to his Divine teaching, aid, and assistance, in all you set your hand to do for the glory of God.

“I hope, sir, the sincerity of my wishes for your spiritual welfare will plead an excuse for the freedom of my address to you. I pray the Giver of every perfect gift, that you may experience the mighty workings of his gracious Spirit in your heart and your ministry, and rest your all on the justifying and purifying blood of an expiring Redeemer. Then will you triumph in his strength, and be enabled to say with the poet:

‘Shall I through fear of feeble men,
The Spirit’s course strive to restrain?
Or, undismay’d in deed and word,
Be a true witness for my Lord?

‘Awed by a mortal’s frown, shall I
Conceal the word of God most high!
How then before Thee shall I dare
To stand? or, how thine anger bear?

‘Shall I, to soothe the unholy throng,
Soften thy truths and smooth my tongue,
To gain earth’s gilded toys, or flee
The cross endur’d, my God, by Thee!

‘What then is he whose scorn I dread,
Whose wrath or hate makes me afraid?
A man! an heir of death! a slave
To sin! a bubble on the wave!

‘Yea, let men rage, since Thou wilt spread
Thy shadowing wings around my head:
Since in all pain, thy tender love
Will still my sure refreshment prove.

‘Still shall the love of Christ constrain
To seek the wand’ring souls of men;
With cries, entreaties, tears to save,
And snatch them from the yawning grave.

‘For this, let men revile my name,
No cross I shun, I fear no shame:
All hail reproach, and welcome pain,
Only thy terrors, Lord, restrain!’

“I trust, sir, that you see what a glorious high calling yours is, and that you are one of those who walk humbly with God, that you may be taught of Him in all things. Persons in your place are messengers of the Most High God. Is it too much to say, they should live like the angels in all holiness, and be filled with love and zeal for men’s souls? They are ambassadors in Christ’s stead to persuade sinners to be reconciled to God. So that your calling is above that of angels: for they are afterward to minister to the heirs of salvation; but the sinner must be first reconciled to God. And you are called on from day to day to intercede with man as his friend, that you may win souls to Christ. Christ is ascended up on high, to intercede with his Father for guilty sinners, and to plead for them the merits of his death. So that Christ and his faithful ministers, through the operation of the blessed Spirit, are co-workers together. Yet without Him we can do nothing: our strength is his strength, and his is all the glory from first to last.

“It is my heart’s prayer and desire, sir, that you may, by a living faith, cleave close to that blessed exalted Lamb of God, who died to redeem us from sin—that you may have a sweet communion with Father, Son, and Spirit—that you may sink deep in love and rise high in the life of God. Thus will you have such discoveries of the beauties of Christ and his eternal glory, as will fill your heart with true delight.

“If I am not deceived, I wish myself to enjoy his gracious favour, more than all the treasures which earth can afford. I would, in comparison, look upon them with holy disdain, and as not worth an anxious thought, that they may not have power on my heart, to draw or attract it from God, who is worthy of my highest esteem, and of all my affections. It should be our endeavour to set Him always before us, that in all things we may act as in his immediate presence; that we may be filled with that holy fear, so that we may not dare wilfully to sin against Him. We should earnestly entreat the Lord to mortify the power and working of sin and unbelief within, by making Christ appear more and more precious in our eyes, and more dear to our hearts.

“It fills my heart with thankful recollections, while I attempt in this weak manner to speak of God’s love to man. When I reflect on my past sins and his past mercies, I am assured, that if I had all the gifts of wise men and angels, I could never sufficiently describe my own inward sense of his undeserved love towards me. We can better enjoy these glorious apprehensions in our hearts, than explain them to others. But oh how unworthy of them all are we? Consciousness of my own corruptions keeps me often low; yet faith and desire will easily mount on high, beseeching God that He would, according to the apostle’s prayer, fill me with all his communicable fulness, in the gifts and graces of his Spirit; that I may walk well-pleasing before Him, in all holy conversation, perfecting holiness in his fear.

“If I err in boldness, sir, pray pardon me; and in your next letter confirm my hope, that you will be my counsellor and guide.

“I can only recompense your kindness to me by my prayers, that your own intercourse with God may be abundantly blessed to you and yours. I consider the Saviour saying to you, as He did to Peter, ‘Lovest them me?’ And may your heartfelt experience be compelled to reply, ‘Thou knowest all things, and thou knowest that I love thee supremely.’ May He have evident marks of it in all your outward actions of love and humanity, in feeding his flock, and in the inward fervour and affection of all your consecrated powers; that you may be zealously engaged in pulling down the strongholds of sin and Satan, and building up his Church, sowing the seeds of righteousness, and praying God to give the increase; that you may not labour for Him in vain, but may see the trees bud and blossom, and bring forth fruit abundantly, to the praise and glory of your heavenly Master. In order to give you encouragement, He says, ‘Whosoever converteth a sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death;’ and that will increase the brightness of your crown in glory. This hath Christ merited for his faithful ministers.

“I hope, sir, you will receive grace to be sincere in reproving sin, wherever you see it. You will find Divine assistance, and all fear and shame will be taken from you. Great peace will be given to you, and wisdom, strength, and courage, according to your work. You will be as Paul: having much learning, you can speak to men in all stations of life, by God’s assistance. The fear of offending them will never prevent you, when you consider the glory of God; and man’s immortal soul is of more value than his present favour and esteem. In particular, you are in an office wherein you can visit all the sick. Man’s extremity is often God’s opportunity. In this way you may prove an instrument in his hand to do his work. Although He can work without means, yet his usual way is by means; and I trust you are a chosen vessel unto Him, to prove his name and declare his truth to all men.

“Visiting the sick is a strict command, and a duty for every Christian. None can tell what good may be done. I wish it was never neglected, as it too often is. Many think that, if they attend the Church—the minister to preach and the people to hear—their duty is done. But more is required than this. May the Lord stir up the gift that is in his people and ministers, that they may have compassion on their fellow-sinners, that they may never think it too late, but remember that while there is life there is hope.

“Once more, I pray, sir, pardon and excuse all my errors in judgment, and the ignorance that this is penned in; and may God bless you in all things, and particularly your friendship to me and my parents. What a comfort is family religion. I do not doubt but this is your desire, as it is mine, to say:

‘I and my house will serve the Lord,
But first obedient to his word
I must myself appear:
By actions, words, and temper show
That I my heavenly Master know,
And serve with heart sincere.

‘I must the fair example set;
From those that on my pleasure wait
The stumbling-block remove;
Their duty by my life explain,
And still in all my works maintain
The dignity of love.

‘Easy to be entreated, mild,
Quickly appeas’d and reconciled,
A follower of my God:
A saint indeed I long to be,
And lead my faithful family
In the celestial road.

‘Lord, if thou dost the wish infuse,
A vessel fitted for thy use
Into thy hands receive:
Work in me both to will and do,
And show them how believers true
And real Christians live.

‘With all-sufficient grace supply,
And then I’ll come to testify
The wonders of thy name,
Which saves from sin, the world, and hell,
Its power may every sinner feel,
And every tongue proclaim!

‘Cleans’d by the blood of Christ from sin,
I seek my relatives to win,
And preach their sins forgiven;
Children, and wife, and servants seize,
And through the paths of pleasantness
Conduct them all to heaven.’

“Living so much in a solitary way, books are my companions; and poetry, which speaks of the love of God and the mercies of Christ, is very sweet to my mind. This must be my excuse for troubling you to read verses which others have written. I have intended, if my declining state of health permit, to go to --- for a few days. I say this, lest you should call in expectation of seeing me, during any part of next week. But my dear father and mother, for whose precious souls I am very anxious, will reap the benefit of your visit at all events.

“From your humble and unworthy servant,

“E--- W---.”

Having read it, I said to the father of my highly valued correspondent:

“I thank you for being the bearer of this letter; your daughter is a kind friend and faithful counsellor to me, as well as to you. Tell her how highly I esteem her friendship, and that I feel truly obliged for the many excellent sentiments which she has here expressed. Give her my blessing, and assure her that the oftener she writes, the more thankful I shall be.”

The Dairyman’s enlivened eye gleamed with pleasure as I spoke. The praise of his Elizabeth was a string which could not be touched without causing every nerve of his whole frame to vibrate.

His voice half faltered as he spoke in reply; the tear stood in his eyes; his hand trembled as I pressed it; his heart was full; he could only say, “Sir, a poor old man thanks you for your kindness to him and his family. God bless you, sir; I hope we shall soon see you again.”

Thus we parted for that day.

CHAPTER V.

It has not unfrequently been observed, that when it is the Lord’s pleasure to remove any of his faithful followers out of this life at an early period of their course, they make rapid progress in the experience of Divine truth. The fruits of the Spirit ripen fast, as they advance to the close of mortal existence. In particular, they grow in humility, through a deeper sense of inward corruption, and a clearer view of the perfect character of the Saviour. Disease and bodily weakness make the thoughts of eternity recur with frequency and power. The great question of their own personal salvation, the quality of their faith, the sincerity of their love, and the purity of their hope, are in continual exercise.

Unseen realities, at such a time, occupy a larger portion of thought than before. The state of existence beyond the grave, the invisible world, the unaltered character of the dead, the future judgment, the total separation from everything earthly, the dissolution of body and spirit, and their reunion at the solemn hour of resurrection—these are subjects for their meditation, which call for serious earnestness of soul. Whatever

consolations from the Spirit of God they may have enjoyed heretofore, they become now doubly anxious to examine and prove themselves, “whether they be indeed in the faith.” In doing this, they sometimes pass through hidden conflicts of a dark and distressing nature; from which, however, they come forth, like gold tried in the furnace. Awhile they may sow in tears, but soon they reap in joy.

Their religious feelings have then, perhaps, less of ecstasy, but more of serenity.

As the ears of corn ripen for the harvest, they bow their heads nearer to the ground. So it is with believers; they then see more than ever of their own imperfection, and often express their sense of it in strong language; yet they repose with a growing confidence on the love of God through Christ Jesus. The nearer they advance to their eternal rest, the more humble they become, but not the less useful in their sphere. They feel anxiously desirous of improving every talent they possess to the glory of God, knowing that the time is short.

I thought I observed the truth of these remarks fulfilled in the progressive state of mind of the Dairyman’s daughter.

Declining health seemed to indicate the will of God concerning her. But her character, conduct,

and experience of the Divine favour increased in brightness as the setting sun of her mortal life approached its horizon. The last letter which, with the exception of a very short note, I ever received from her, I shall now transcribe. It appeared to me to bear the marks of a still deeper acquaintance with the workings of her own heart, and a more entire reliance upon the free mercy of God.

The original, while I copy it, strongly revives the image of the deceased, and the many profitable conversations which I once enjoyed in her company and that of her parents. It again endears to me the recollections of cottage piety; and helps me to anticipate the joys of that day when the spirits of the glorified saints shall be reunited to their bodies, and be for ever with the Lord.

The writer of this and the preceding letters herself little imagined, when they were penned, that they would ever be submitted to the public eye. That they now are so, results from a conviction that the friends of the pious poor will estimate them according to their value, and a hope that it may please God to honour these memorials of the dead, to the effectual edification of the living.

“Rev. Sir,

“In consequence of your kind permission, I take the liberty to trouble you with another of my ill-written letters; and I trust you have too much of your blessed Maker’s lowly, meek, and humble mind to be offended with a poor, simple, ignorant creature, whose intentions are pure and sincere in writing. My desire is that I, a weak vessel of his grace, may glorify his name for his goodness towards me. May the Lord direct me by his counsel and wisdom! May He overshadow me with his presence, that I may sit beneath the banner of his love, and find the consolations of his blessed Spirit sweet and refreshing to my soul!

“When I feel that I am nothing, and God is all in all, then I can willingly fly to Him, saying, ‘Lord, help me; Lord, teach me; be unto me my Prophet, Priest, and King; let me know the teaching of thy grace, and the disclosing of thy love.’ What nearness of access might we have if we lived more near to God! What sweet communion might we have with a God of love! He is the great I AM. How glorious a name! Angels with trembling awe prostrate themselves before Him, and in humble love adore and worship Him. One says,

‘While the first archangel sings,
He hides his face behind his wings.’

Unworthy as I am, I have found it by experience, that the more I see of the greatness and goodness of God, and the nearer union I hope I have had with Him through the Spirit of his love, the more humble and self-abased I have been.

“But every day I may say, ‘Lord, how little I love thee, how far I live from thee, how little am I like thee in humility!’ It is nevertheless my heart’s desire to love and serve Him better. I find the way in which God does more particularly bless me, is when I attend on the public ordinances of religion. These are the channels through which He conveys the riches of his grace and precious love to my soul. These I have often found to be indeed the time of refreshing and strengthening from the presence of the Lord. Then I can see my hope of an interest in the covenant of love, and praise Him for his mercy to the greatest of sinners.

“I earnestly wish to be more established in the ways, and to honour him in the path of duties whilst I enjoy the smiles of his favour. In the midst of all outward afflictions I pray that I may know Christ, and the power of his resurrection within my soul. If I were always thus, my summer would last all the year, my will would then be sweetly lost in God’s will, and I should feel a resignation to every dispensation of his providence and his grace, saying, ‘Good is the will of the Lord: infinite wisdom cannot err.’ Then would patience have its perfect work.

“But, alas! sin and unbelief often, too often, interrupt these frames, and lay me low before God in tears of sorrow. I often think what a happiness it would be, if his love were so fixed in my heart, that I might willingly obey Him with alacrity and delight, and gradually mortify the power of self-will, passion, and pride. This can only arise from a good hope, through grace, that we are washed in that precious blood which cleanses us from every sinful stain, and makes us new creatures in Christ. O that we may be the happy witnesses of the saving power and virtue of that healing stream which flows from the fountain of everlasting love!

“Sir, my faith is often exceedingly weak. Can you be so kind as to tell me what you have found to be the most effectual means of strengthening it? I often think how plainly the Lord declares—Believe only, and thou shalt be saved. Only have faith; all things are possible to him that has it. How I wish that we could remove all those mountains that hinder and obstruct the light of his grace; so that, having full access unto God through that ever-blessed Spirit, we might lovingly commune with Him as with the dearest of friends. What favour doth God bestow on worms! And yet we love to murmur and complain. He may well say, What should I have done more that I have not done? or wherein have I proved unfaithful or unkind to my faithless backsliding children?

“Sir, I pray that I may not grieve Him, as I have done, any more. I want your counsel and your prayers for me in this matter. How refreshing is the sight of one that truly loves God, that bears his image and likeness!

“But delightful as is conversation with true believers on earth, whose hearts are lifted up to things above, yet what is this to that happy day which will admit us into more bright realms, where we shall for ever behold a God of love in the smiling face of his Son, who is the express image of his Father, and the brightness of his glory! Then, if found in Him, we shall be received by the innumerable host of angels who wait around his throne.

“In the meantime, sir, may I take up my cross, and manfully fight under Him who, for the glory that was set before Him, endured the cross, despised the shame, and is now set down at his Father’s right hand in majesty! I thank you for the kind liberty you have given to me of writing to you. I feel my health declining, and I find a relief during an hour of pain and weakness in communicating these thoughts to you.

“I hope, sir, you go on your way rejoicing; that you are enabled to thank Him who is the giver of every good gift, spiritual, temporal, and providential, for blessings to yourself and your ministry. I do not doubt but you often meet with circumstances which are not pleasing to nature; yet, by the blessing of God, they will be all profitable in the end. They are kindly designed by grace to make and keep us humble. The difficulties which you spoke of to me some time since, will, I trust, disappear.

“My dear father and mother are as well as usual in bodily health; and, I hope, grow in grace, and in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ. My chief desire to live is for their sakes. It now seems long since we have seen you. I am almost ashamed to request you to come to our little cottage, to visit those who are so far beneath your station in life. But if you cannot come, we shall be very glad if you will write a few lines. I ought to make an excuse for my letter, I spell so badly: this was a great neglect when I was young. I gave myself greatly to reading, but not to the other; and now I am too weak and feeble to learn much.

“I hear sometimes of persons growing serious in your congregation. It gives me joy; and, if true, I am sure it does so to yourself. I long for the pure Gospel of Christ to be preached in every church in the world, and for the time when all shall know, love, and fear the Lord, and the uniting Spirit of God shall make them of one heart and mind in Christ our great Head. Your greatest joy, I know, will be in labouring much for the glory of God in the salvation of men’s souls. You serve a good Master. You have a sure reward. I pray God to give you strength according to your day.

“Pray, sir, do not be offended at the freedom and manner of my writing. My parents’ duty and love to you are sent with these lines from

“Your humble servant in Christ,

“E--- W---.”

Epistolary communications, when written in sincerity of heart, afford genuine portraits of the mind. May the foregoing be viewed with Christian candour, and consecrated to affectionate memory!

CHAPTER VI.

Travellers, as they pass through the country, usually stop to inquire whose are the splendid mansions which they discover among the woods and plains around them. The families, titles, fortune, or character of the respective owners engage much attention. Perhaps their houses are exhibited to the admiring stranger. The elegant rooms, costly furniture, valuable paintings, beautiful gardens and shrubberies, are universally approved; while the rank, fashion, taste, and riches of the possessor, afford ample materials for entertaining discussion. In the meantime, the lowly cottage of the poor husbandman is passed by as scarcely deserving of notice. Yet perchance such a cottage may often contain a treasure of infinitely more value than the sumptuous palace of the rich man; even “the pearl of great price.” If this be set in the heart of the poor cottager, it proves a gem of unspeakable worth, and will shine among the brightest ornaments of the Redeemer’s crown, in that day when He maketh up his “jewels.”

Hence the Christian traveller, while in common with others he bestows his due share of applause

on the decorations of the rich, and is not insensible to the beauties and magnificence which are the lawfully-allowed appendages of rank and fortune, cannot overlook the humbler dwelling of the poor. And if he should find that true piety and grace beneath the thatched roof which he has in vain looked for amidst the worldly grandeur of the rich, he remembers the declarations in the Word of God. He sees with admiration, that the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy, who dwelleth in the high and holy place, dwelleth with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit; and although heaven is his throne, and the earth his footstool, yet, when a house is to be built, and a place of rest to be sought for himself, He says, To this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word. (See Isa. lvii. 15; lxvi. 1, 2.)

When a house is thus tenanted, faith beholds this inscription written on the walls, The Lord lives here. Faith, therefore, cannot pass by it unnoticed, but loves to lift up the latch of the door, and to sit down and converse with the poor, although perhaps despised, inhabitant. Many a sweet interview does Faith obtain, when she thus takes her walks abroad. Many such a sweet interview have I myself enjoyed beneath

the roof where dwelt the Dairyman and his little family.

I soon perceived that his daughter’s health was rapidly on the decline. The pale, wasting consumption, which is the Lord’s instrument for removing so many thousands every year from the land of the living, made hasty strides on her constitution. The hollow eye, the distressing cough, and the often too-flattering red on the cheek, foretold the approach of death.

What a field for usefulness and affectionate attention on the part of ministers and Christian friends is opened by the frequent attacks, and lingering progress, of consumptive illness! How many such precious opportunities are daily lost, where Providence seems in so marked a way to afford time and space for serious and godly instruction! Of how many may it be said, “The way of peace have they not known;” for not one friend ever came nigh to warn them to “flee from the wrath to come.”

But the Dairyman’s daughter was happily made acquainted with the things which belonged to her everlasting peace before the present disease had taken root in her constitution. In my visits to her, I went rather to receive information than to impart it. Her mind was abundantly stored with Divine truths, and her conversation

was truly edifying. The recollection of it must ever produce a thankful sensation in my heart.

I one day received a short note to the following effect:—

“Dear Sir,

“I should be very glad, if your convenience will allow, that you would come and see a poor unworthy sinner. My hour-glass is nearly run out; but I hope I can see Christ to be precious to my soul. Your conversation has often been blessed to me, and I now feel the need of it more than ever. My father and my mother send their duty to you.

“From your obedient

“And unworthy servant,

“E--- W---.”

I obeyed the summons that same afternoon. On my arrival at the Dairyman’s cottage his wife opened the door. The tears streamed down her cheek as she silently shook her head. Her heart was full. She tried to speak, but could not. I took her by the hand, and said:

“My good friend, all is right, and as the Lord of wisdom and mercy directs.”

“Oh! my Betsy, my dear girl, is so bad, sir.

What shall I do without her? I thought I should have gone first to the grave, but—”

“But the Lord sees good that, before you die yourself, you should behold your child safe home to glory. Is there no mercy in this?”

“O, dear sir! I am very old and very weak, and she is a dear child, the staff and prop of such a poor old creature as I am.”

As I advanced, I saw Elizabeth sitting by the fireside, supported in an arm-chair by pillows, with every mark of rapid decline and approaching death. A sweet smile of friendly complacency enlightened her pale countenance as she said:

“This is very kind indeed, sir, to come so soon after I sent to you. You find me daily wasting away, and I cannot have long to continue here. My flesh and my heart fail; but God is the strength of my weak heart, and, I trust, will be my portion for ever.”

The conversation was occasionally interrupted by her cough and want of breath. Her tone of voice was clear, though feeble; her manner solemn and collected; and her eye, though more dim than formerly, by no means wanting in liveliness as she spoke. I had frequently admired the superior language in which she expressed her ideas, as well as the scriptural

consistency with which she communicated her thoughts. She had a good natural understanding; and grace, as is generally the case, much improved it. On the present occasion I could not help thinking she was peculiarly favoured. The whole strength of gracious and natural attainments seemed to be in full exercise.

After taking my seat between the daughter and the mother (the latter fixing her fond eyes upon her child with great anxiety, while we were conversing), I said to Elizabeth:

“I hope you enjoy a sense of the Divine presence, and can rest all upon Him who has ‘been with thee,’ and has kept ‘thee in all places whither thou hast gone,’ and will bring thee into ‘the land of pure delights, where saints immortal reign.’”

“Sir, I think I can. My mind has lately been sometimes clouded, but I believe it has been partly owing to the great weakness and suffering of my bodily frame, and partly to the envy of my spiritual enemy, who wants to persuade me that Christ has no love for me, and that I have been a self-deceiver.”

“And do you give way to his suggestions? Can you doubt amidst such numerous tokens of past and present mercy?”

“No, sir; I mostly am enabled to preserve a

clear evidence of his love. I do not wish to add to my other sins that of denying his manifest goodness to my soul. I would acknowledge it to his praise and glory.”

“What is your present view of the state in which you were before you felt seriously concerned about the salvation of your soul?”

“Sir, I was a proud, thoughtless girl, fond of dress and finery; I loved the world, and the things that are in the world; I lived in service among worldly people, and never had the happiness of being in a family where worship was regarded, and the souls of the servants cared for either by master or mistress. I went once on a Sunday to church, more to see and be seen than to pray or hear the word of God. I thought I was quite good enough to be saved, and disliked and often laughed at religious people. I was in great darkness; I knew nothing of the way of salvation; I never prayed, nor was sensible of the awful danger of a prayerless state. I wished to maintain the character of a good servant, and was much lifted up whenever I met with applause. I was tolerably moral and decent in my conduct, from motives of carnal and worldly policy; but I was a stranger to God and Christ; I neglected my soul; and had I died in such a state, hell must, and would justly, have been my portion.”

“How long is it since you heard the sermon which you hope, through God’s blessing, effected your conversion?”

“About five years ago.”

“How was it brought about?”

“It was reported that a Mr ---, who was detained by contrary winds from embarking on board ship, as chaplain to a distant part of the world, was to preach at church. Many advised me not to go, for fear he should turn my head; as they said he held strange notions. But curiosity and an opportunity of appearing in a new gown, which I was very proud of, induced me to ask leave of my mistress to go. Indeed, sir, I had no better motives than vanity and curiosity. Yet thus it pleased the Lord to order it for his own glory.

“I accordingly went to church, and saw a great crowd of people collected together. I often think of the contrary states of my mind during the former and latter part of the service. For a while, regardless of the worship of God, I looked around me, and was anxious to attract notice myself. My dress, like that of too many gay, vain, and silly servant girls, was much above my station, and very different from that which becomes an humble sinner, who has a modest sense of propriety and decency. The state of

my mind was visible enough from the foolish finery of my apparel.

“At length the clergyman gave out his text: ‘Be ye clothed with humility’ (1 Pet. v. 5). He drew a comparison between the clothing of the body with that of the soul. At a very early part of his discourse, I began to feel ashamed of my passion for fine dressing and apparel; but when he came to describe the garment of salvation with which a Christian is clothed, I felt a powerful discovery of the nakedness of my own soul. I saw that I had neither the humility mentioned in the text, nor any one part of the true Christian character. I looked at my gay dress, and blushed for shame on account of my pride. I looked at the minister, and he seemed to be as a messenger sent from heaven to open my eyes. I looked on the congregation, and wondered whether any one else felt as I did. I looked at my heart, and it appeared full of iniquity. I trembled as he spoke, and yet I felt a great drawing of heart to the words he uttered.

“He displayed the riches of Divine grace in God’s method of saving the sinner. I was astonished at what I had been doing all the days of my life. He described the meek, lowly, and humble example of Christ; I felt proud, lofty, vain, and self-consequential. He represented

Christ as ‘Wisdom;’ I felt my ignorance. He held Him forth as ‘Righteousness;’ I was convinced of my own guilt. He proved Him to be ‘Sanctification;’ I saw my corruption. He proclaimed Him as ‘Redemption;’ I felt my slavery to sin, and my captivity to Satan. He concluded with an animated address to sinners, in which he exhorted them to flee from the wrath to come, to cast off the love of outward ornaments, to put on Jesus Christ, and be clothed with true humility.

“From that hour I never lost sight of the value of my soul, and the danger of a sinful state. I inwardly blessed God for the sermon, although my mind was in a state of great confusion.

“The preacher had brought forward the ruling passion of my heart, which was pride in outward dress; and by the grace of God it was made instrumental to the awakening of my soul. Happy, sir, would it be, if many a poor girl, like myself, were turned from the love of outward adorning and putting on of fine apparel, to seek that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.

“The greater part of the congregation, unused to such faithful and scriptural sermons, disliked

and complained of the severity of the preacher: while a few, as I afterwards found, like myself, were deeply affected, and earnestly wished to hear him again. But he preached there no more.

“From that time I was led, through a course of private prayer, reading, and meditation, to see my lost estate as a sinner, and the great mercy of God through Jesus Christ in raising sinful dust and ashes to a share in the glorious happiness of heaven. And O, sir, what a Saviour I have found! He is more than I could ask or desire. In his fulness I have found all that my poverty could need; in his bosom I have found a resting-place from all sin and sorrow; in his Word I have found strength against doubt and unbelief.”

“Were you not soon convinced,” I said, “that your salvation must be an act of entire grace on the part of God, wholly independent of your own previous works or deservings?”

“Dear sir, what were my works before I heard that sermon, but evil, carnal, selfish, and ungodly? The thoughts of my heart, from my youth upward, were only evil, and that continually. And my deservings, what were they but the deservings of a fallen, depraved, careless soul, that regarded neither law nor gospel? Yes,

sir, I immediately saw that, if ever I were saved, it must be by the free mercy of God, and that the whole praise and honour of the work would be his from first to last.”

“What change did you perceive in yourself with respect to the world?”

“It appeared all vanity and vexation of spirit. I found it necessary to my peace of mind to come out from among them and be separate. I gave myself to prayer; and many a happy hour of secret delight I enjoyed in communion with God. Often I mourned over my sins, and sometimes had a great conflict through unbelief, fear, temptation, to return back again to my old ways, and a variety of difficulties which lay in my way. But He who loved me with an everlasting love, drew me by his loving-kindness, showed me the way of peace, gradually strengthened me in my resolutions of leading a new life, and taught me, that while without him I could do nothing, I yet might do all things through his strength.”

“Did you not find many difficulties in your situation, owing to your change of principle and practice?”

“Yes, sir, every day of my life. I was laughed at by some, scolded at by others, scorned by enemies, and pitied by friends. I was called hypocrite, saint, false deceiver, and many more

names which were meant to render me hateful in the sight of the world. But I esteemed the reproach of the Cross an honour. I forgave and prayed for my persecutors, and remembered how very lately I had acted the same part towards others myself. I thought also that Christ endured the contradiction of sinners; and as the disciple is not above his Master, I was glad to be in any way conformed to his sufferings.”

“Did you not then feel for your family at home?”

“Yes, that I did indeed, sir; they were never out of my thoughts. I prayed continually for them, and had a longing desire to do them good. In particular, I felt for my father and mother, as they were getting into years, and were very ignorant and dark in matters of religion.”

“Ay,” interrupted her mother, sobbing, “ignorant and dark, sinful and miserable we were, till this dear Betsy—this dear Betsy—this dear child, sir—brought Christ Jesus home to her poor father and mother’s house.”

“No, dearest mother; say rather, Christ Jesus brought your poor daughter home, to tell you what He had done for her soul, and, I hope, to do the same for yours.”

At this moment the Dairyman came in with two pails of milk hanging from the yoke on his

shoulders. He had stood behind the half-opened door for a few minutes, and heard the last sentences spoken by his wife and daughter.

“Blessing and mercy upon her!” said he, “it is very true: she left a good place of service on purpose to live with us, that she might help us both in soul and body. Sir, don’t she look very ill? I think, sir, we sha’n’t have her here long.”

“Leave that to the Lord,” said Elizabeth. “All our times are in his hand, and happy it is that they are. I am willing to go. Are not you willing, my father, to part with me into his hands who gave me to you at first?”

“Ask me any question in the world but that,” said the weeping father.

“I know,” said she, “you wish me to be happy.”

“I do, I do,” answered he; “let the Lord do with you and us as best pleases Him.”

I then asked her on what her present consolations chiefly depended, in the prospect of approaching death.

“Entirely, sir, on my view of Christ. When I look at myself, many sins, infirmities, and imperfections cloud the image of Christ which I want to see in my own heart. But when I look at the Saviour himself, He is altogether lovely;

there is not one spot in his countenance, nor one cloud over all his perfections.

“I think of his coming in the flesh, and it reconciles me to the sufferings of the body; for He had them as well as I. I think of his temptations, and believe that He is able to succour me when I am tempted. Then I think of his cross, and learn to bear my own. I reflect on his death, and long to die unto sin, so that it may no longer have dominion over me. I sometimes think of his resurrection, and trust that He has given me a part in it, for I feel that my affections are set upon things above. Chiefly, I take comfort in thinking of Him as at the right hand of the Father, pleading my cause, and rendering acceptable even my feeble prayers, both for myself, and, as I hope, for my dear friends.

“These are the views which, through mercy, I have of my Saviour’s goodness; and they have made me wish and strive in my poor way to serve Him, to give myself up to Him, and to labour to do my duty in that state of life into which it has pleased Him to call me.

“A thousand times I should have fallen and fainted, if He had not upheld me. I feel that I am nothing without Him. He is all in all.

“Just so far as I can cast my care upon Him

I find strength to do his will. May He give me grace to trust Him till the last moment! I do not fear death, because I believe that He has taken away its sting. And O, what happiness beyond! Tell me, sir, whether you think I am right—I hope I am under no delusion. I dare not look for my hope in anything short of the entire fulness of Christ. When I ask my own heart a question, I am afraid to trust it, for it is treacherous, and has often deceived me. But when I ask Christ, he answers me with promises that strengthen and refresh me, and leave me no room to doubt his power and will to save. I am in his hands, and would remain there; and I do believe that He will never leave nor forsake me, but will perfect the thing that concerns me. He loved me, and gave himself for me; and I believe that his gifts and calling are without repentance. In this hope I live, in this hope I wish to die.”

I looked around me, as she was speaking, and thought—Surely this is none other than the house of God, and the gate of heaven. Everything appeared neat, cleanly, and interesting. The afternoon had been rather overcast with dark clouds; but just now the setting sun shone brightly and somewhat suddenly into the room. It was reflected from three or four rows of bright

pewter plates and white earthenware, arranged on shelves against the wall; it also gave brilliancy to a few prints of sacred subjects that hung there also, and served for monitors of the birth, baptism, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ.

A large map of Jerusalem, and a hieroglyphic of “the old and new man,” completed the decorations on that side of the room. Clean as was the whitewashed wall, it was not cleaner than the rest of the place and its furniture. Seldom had the sun enlightened a house where order and general neatness (those sure attendants of pious poverty) were more conspicuous.

This gleam of setting sunshine was emblematical of the bright and serene close of this young Christian’s departing season. One ray happened to be reflected from a little looking-glass upon her face. Amidst her pallid and decaying features there appeared a calm resignation, triumphant confidence, unaffected humility, and tender anxiety, which fully declared the feelings of her heart.

Some further affectionate conversation and a short prayer closed this interview.

As I rode home by departing day-light, a solemn tranquillity reigned throughout the scene. The gentle lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep

just penned in their folds, the humming of the insects of the night, the distant murmurs of the sea, the last notes of the birds of day, and the first warblings of the nightingale, broke upon the ear, and served rather to increase than lessen the peaceful serenity of the evening, and its corresponding effects on my own mind. It invited and cherished just such meditations as my visit had already inspired. Natural scenery, when viewed in a Christian mirror, frequently affords very beautiful illustrations of Divine truths. We are highly favoured when we can enjoy them, and at the same time draw near to God in them.