THE RETIRED CHRISTIAN.
The beauty of the morning tempted me to seek the recreation of a solitary rural walk, and that I might not spend a useless day, I made a selection of tracts for distribution. After sauntering through many a pleasant lane and meadow, the freshness of the grass, the beauty of the wild flowers, and the warbling of the birds enlivening the scene, I came near to a mansion belonging to the Marquis of B——, and, availing myself of the privilege which he generously affords the public, I resolved to visit it. Walking leisurely up the long shady avenue, I now and then caught a glimpse of the venerable structure, and at length it came full in view. It was an irregular building, of the Elizabethan period, of considerable extent, and in excellent preservation. As I passed from room to room, examining the articles of taste and of luxury with which they were adorned, I thought within myself, how little can all this splendour do to confer true happiness! The collection of ancient armour interested me, and the portraits of the great ones of former times carried my mind back to events too intimately interwoven with our national history ever to be forgotten. Before I left the library, I deposited between the leaves of some of the books lying on the table a few tracts, which I hoped might arrest the attention of some of the members of the noble family, and having commended these silent messengers of truth to the Divine blessing, I retired, delighted with what I had seen.
I walked on some little distance, when, on making a sudden turn, I descended a winding slope, which led to the front of a neat cottage, partially concealed by the evergreens which surrounded it. An air of finished neatness and scrupulous order was everywhere visible, and its quiet simplicity formed a pleasing contrast to the magnificent mansion I had just left. The barking of a little dog, and the crowing of a cock, satisfied me that it was inhabited, though I saw neither man nor child. Discovering a tasteful seat, formed by the bended branches of an ash and hazel that grew in fellowship, I sat me down to rest myself. I did not long remain in suspense as to the character of the inhabitants, for, while indulging my fancies, I observed, at some distance, a venerable-looking man advancing towards the cottage. As he drew near, I rose and saluted him: he returned the compliment with graceful ease; and his manner at once convinced me that, though in a rustic garb, he had been accustomed to mingle in polite society. His frank and kindly manners at once relieved me from the embarrassment into which his unexpected appearance had thrown me, and it was with feelings of interest and pleasure that I accepted his invitation to step into his cottage and rest myself. The interior of this retreat was as neat as the outer decorations were beautiful; the furniture was simple and inexpensive; the only thing which particularly attracted my attention was a large painting, which, he informed me, was a favourite family-piece. While I was admiring the picture, and carefully examining the group there represented, his wife entered the room, and, after a little general conversation, she pressed me to remain and dine with them. We soon became somewhat familiar; and, throwing off reserve, conversed freely, as two old friends are wont to talk when met together after a long absence. In course of conversation, my venerable host gave me some account of his history. His life had been a chequered one, on which had fallen the lights and shadows of prosperity and adversity. I ascertained that his name was Armstrong, that he had three children—his daughter, who was married to an attorney in Bristol, and his two sons, who resided in London. He had acquired a handsome fortune by industry and frugality, and having disposed of his business, had retired to the country to spend the evening of his days in retirement. But soon the charm and novelty of the country wore away; he was not happy completely isolated from commercial life and intercourse with general society; and resolved again to return to more active pursuits. A favourable opportunity soon occurred, when he disposed of his country residence, and entered into partnership with a banking firm of reputed respectability. But, ere long, he found that he had been deceived; the concern became bankrupt, and in his old age he lost at one sweep the accumulated property of former years. The shock to himself and his wife was at first overpowering, but, when awakening from the stupor into which it had thrown them, they rejoiced that their children were in a very prosperous condition, and they had no doubt but they would prove to them comforters in the hour of their distress. In this they were not mistaken: an arrangement was soon made for the removal of their parents from the scene of their sorrow and misfortunes; the cottage which they now occupied was purchased for them, and to secure them from all anxiety respecting their future support, an annuity was settled upon them for life.
When Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong removed to the cottage, they brought with them an old domestic, who had been in their service for more than thirty years, and she, with a man-servant, made up the whole of their family. As they were strangers in the neighbourhood, and in a manner cut off from intercourse with the world, they lived quite retired, finding, in the gratification of promoting each other's happiness, more satisfaction than they had ever enjoyed in the days of their prosperity.
"Adversity," I remarked, "though dreaded when at a distance, is often met on its near approach with calmness, and not unfrequently it becomes a source of greater happiness than prosperity has ever been able to impart."
"Prosperity," said Mr. Armstrong, "possesses greater attractions than adversity, but it has a more pernicious influence on the mind. The prayer of Agur I admire for its simplicity and suitableness, seeing that wealth and extreme poverty often place our principles in danger:—'Two things have I required of thee; deny me them not before I die; remove far from me vanity and lies; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food convenient for me: lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.'"
"There is no exercise," I observed, "which has such a salutary influence over the human heart, and over the formation of the character, as prayer; for, by associating us with the Author of all excellence, we imperceptibly imbibe a portion of his goodness; it is the hand which lays hold of his strength; and then we enjoy peace, because we feel secure amidst all apparent dangers and positive privations."
"But, Sir," said my host, "how few pray!—how few understand the nature of prayer!—how few engage in this holy exercise from choice, or derive from it that satisfaction and delight which it is calculated to impart!" Looking at me with calm earnestness, he added, "Such is the magic influence which the fleeting events of life have over us, that we remain comparatively indifferent to the realities of an eternal world, till some disaster arises to break the charm. The afflictive dispensation which deprived me of all my property, and left me dependent on my children, though severe, has proved the most beneficial occurrence of my history. It has taught me the vanity as well as the instability of all earthly possessions; it has led me to seek pure and substantial happiness in fellowship with the Father, and his Son, Jesus Christ."
He then informed me that, from his childhood, he had been a regular attendant at his parish church, and endeavoured to practise the relative virtues which he so frequently had heard inculcated. But, during the whole of this time, he had no just conception of the evil of sin, or of the degeneracy of his nature, or of the necessity of that faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ which purifies the heart. He was religious from habit, not from conviction; and he paid respect to the ceremonies of public worship because others did so, rather than from any benefit which he expected to derive from them. The cottage he now occupied was at a considerable distance from the parish church, and on his removal to it he felt quite free from the control of the opinion of others, and usually spent his Sabbaths at home. One day, however, his curiosity was excited by some rumours which reached him respecting the rector, and he resolved to go to hear him. "We all walked together," said he, "and on entering the church we were struck with the size of the congregation, and the unusual seriousness of the clergyman, who was officiating in the desk. But it was when in the pulpit that he displayed the fervid and impassioned eloquence of a holy man of God. There he exhibited the word of life with such clearness, and with such power, that we were delighted; and though he advanced some things that were new to us, and which did not exactly agree with our own opinions, yet we could not refrain from going again on the following Sabbath. Since that day we have never absented ourselves, except when illness has compelled us; and now I can adore the wisdom and the love of Him who broke up my former establishment, in which I lived a useless life, and fixed my residence in this humble retreat, where I have been brought to hear the pure gospel, which has been the means of infusing spiritual life into every member of my household."
"The ways of heaven," I remarked, "are sometimes dark and mysterious; but when their ulterior design is accomplished, the obscurity vanishes, and we are enabled to perceive marks of infinite wisdom and benevolence in the events which, at an early stage, appeared as the precursors of judgment and of woe."
"Yes, Sir, the dispensation by which I lost my property was, indeed, dark and mysterious; it involved me in the depths of trouble, and I had no resources of consolation opened to me, but the sympathy I received from my children. It did not occur to me that a gracious Providence was intending to promote my happiness by smiting the prosperity which I was enjoying. I reproached the agents of fraud, who had deceived me, and I reproached myself for being deceived. I was stung to the quick by the disgrace into which I was plunged; and when I retired to this cottage, I felt more disposed to murmur against the providence of God, than to offer the tribute of a grateful heart."
"It is the influence of religion which induces within us a disposition of mind in accordance with the sovereign will of our heavenly Father, and which teaches and inclines us to derive our purest enjoyments from the manifestations of His favour. Hence, he who possesses the religious principle in full energy, is fitted to meet any trial, however severe, and to reside in any place, however humble, because he believes that all things are working together for his good, and that there is no spot in the universe from whence the God of providence and of grace is excluded."
"In my former country residence, to which I had retired with a large fortune, I soon began to feel out of my element. The decoration of my house, and the laying out of my gardens and pleasure-grounds, kept me employed for a time, but when these were completed, I found that the inactivity of a retired country gentleman was ill suited to my active habits. I became unhappy, and was glad to leave the country to enter again into commercial pursuits. When I came here I dreaded a renewal of the experiment; and though I believed that adversity would assume and retain a powerful influence in reconciling me to my fate, I soon found that adversity alone could not induce submission to the will of heaven, nor produce contentment. The mind cannot derive support from the cause of its depression. This must come from some other source. I have found it, or rather it was given me, when and where I looked not for it. I now can say, what I never could say when in the height of my prosperity, that I am really happy and contented. I have no wish to return again to the busy world."
"Solitude," I remarked, "is most favourable to the spirit of devotion; yet there are many of the virtues of the Christian character which cannot be displayed but before the public eye—such as candour, and benevolence, and zeal; and as we are not to live to ourselves, do you not think, Sir, it is our duty to go forth and let our light shine before others?"
"Most certainly, Sir; and though we are apparently shut out from the world, and have but few of its temptations to allure, and none of its cares to distract us, yet we live quite near enough to its evils to afford us an opportunity of displaying those graces of the Christian character to which you have alluded. Our nearest neighbour is a man of wealth, and of extensive influence in the parish; but he looks down on us with contempt, because we have embraced what he calls this new religion, and he does everything in his power to irritate and mortify us. Just over yonder hill there are several cottages, which are inhabited by coal-miners, who are as ignorant and as depraved as any description of persons I have ever known; and where ignorance and vice abound there is sure to be wretchedness. Hence, though we do not occupy any prominent station in the eye of the public, we are not exempted from the privilege of attempting to do good to others, nor from the honour of suffering persecution for righteousness' sake."
"As you are now in the possession of a larger portion of happiness than you ever previously enjoyed, do you not feel a stronger attachment to life than you ever felt?"
"Yes, Sir, I do; because I now perceive that our life is given for a nobler purpose than I ever conceived before. I used to think that it was given us for the acquisition of wealth and honour, and for the gratification of the taste and feeling; but now I believe that the original design of its bestowment is that we may honour and love God, and, through the mediation of Jesus Christ, be prepared to enjoy His presence in the eternal world. But though I am more attached to life than ever, I have no objection to resign it, when it may please God to call me to do so. At my advanced age, though my health is good, and my constitution unbroken, I cannot expect to live many years; yet I feel the strong pulsation of a life over which neither the first nor the second death have any power. I should like to live on earth, if it were the will of God, till I see my dear children embrace the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ; but if I should be removed before that event takes place, I have no doubt but I shall unite with the ministering angels and the spirits of the redeemed in celebrating it in His presence."
"I am happy to hear you speak with so much confidence on such an important subject, as I have long thought that the fears which Christian parents so often and so long cherish respecting the salvation of their children, are no less dishonourable to God than destructive of their own peace. He has commanded us to use the means for the conveyance of truth to their minds; and he has given us many promises of sure success; and ought we, after all this, to despair? He may withhold the renovating power, to make us more importunate in prayer, and to convince us that human means alone will not prove effectual; but still it is our duty and our privilege to expect that his word shall not return unto him void, but that it shall accomplish that which he pleases, and prosper in the thing whereto he sends it."
I was much interested by the conversation of my host, and my gratification was increased by hearing that he attended the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Guion, of whom he spoke with all the warmth of filial attachment; that he was personally acquainted with my esteemed friend, the Rev. Mr. Ingleby; and had often heard of Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, though he knew them not. I now bade this aged couple farewell, and set out to retrace my steps to Fairmount, highly pleased with the adventures of the day, which I found as conducive to my mental and spiritual improvement, as they had been beneficial to my health.