JUVENILE GEMS.
The subjects of these memoirs—Ann Jane Woolford, George Woolford, and Hephzibah Woolford—were born in the beautiful town of Cheltenham, August 20th, 1840, January 28th, 1842, and February 14th, 1846.
The names of their parents were George and Ann Woolford, both members of the Church assembling for worship in Bethel Chapel, Cheltenham.
In all, four children shared their affection, interested their solicitudes, listened to their counsels, and knelt at their domestic altar.
Upon three out of the four the grave closed in comparative infancy; and, believing the "kindness and love of God our Saviour toward man" appeared to them, the bereaved mother, partly to indulge in a subject of mournful interest, and partly to record the gracious dealings of God, drew up, with her own hand, the subjoined narrative:—
George.
"My eldest child, George Woolford, was attacked by scarlatina on October 16th, 1851, from which he partially recovered, but died the following month.
"Perceiving his soul 'drawing nigh unto the grave, and his life to the destroyers,' I remarked, 'It will do you no harm to think of death, seeing we must all die.' With tears in his eyes he exclaimed, 'Oh, mother, I am afraid I shall not go to heaven.' I asked why he thus feared. His answer was, 'I am afraid the Lord will not forgive me.' I said, 'My dear, the Lord is ready to forgive all who from their hearts are sorry for their sins; and I hope the Holy Ghost will enable you to pray for divine forgiveness.' He seemed much affected by these remarks, but said he was too ill to talk or listen to me.
"In great earnestness (and I believe under divine influence) I entreated God to grant me the great favour of informing me whether my dear boy was interested in the everlasting covenant, which is 'ordered in all things, and sure.'
"About two or three days after, he commenced a conversation by saying, 'Mother, I am afraid I shall not go to heaven. I have been such a sinner. I am afraid I am so great a sinner that the Lord will not save me. I have done so many things that are sinful, and they come into my mind and make me grieve.' I repeated several portions of the Holy Scripture, to which he listened in great earnestness, and then inquired, 'But, as I have not long to live, will the Lord forgive me after putting it off so long?' I answered in the affirmative, and mentioned the dying thief, assuring him the Lord was as willing to pardon him as He had been to pardon that malefactor. This relieved his mind, and he asked for his Testament to read.
"A few days after, while I was gazing intently on him, he meekly exclaimed, 'Do not look at me so, my dear mother. It almost breaks my heart.' I said, 'My dear boy, do you ever pray?' He answered, 'I try to do so; but do not know that I pray aright.' I remarked, 'If it is from your heart, the Lord will answer it in His own time, for the prayer of necessity is that in which He delights.'
"On the Lord's Day before his death he appeared much better, ate a hearty dinner, and remained up till between four and five in the afternoon, when he exclaimed, 'Oh, mother, I am afraid my breath is getting bad again.' After several hours of great suffering, he cried out, 'Dear Lord, take me—do take me!' Hearing him thus call upon the name of the Lord, I approached him softly, and in soothing terms expressed my gladness at finding he was not afraid to die. 'No, dear mother,' he said, 'I am not afraid to die. I am happy now.' I inquired, 'Do you love the Lord?' 'Oh, yes,' was his ready answer, and immediately ejaculated, 'Dearest Lord, take me—take me—take me!' a great many times.
"His pains becoming stronger, he said, 'Dear mother, do pray the dear Lord to take me!' I did so; and when risen from my knees, he said, 'Thank you, my dear mother. I hope the Lord will answer your prayer,' and then added, 'Oh, my dear, dear Lord, do take me! Take me from this world now. I do not want to live here. Take me with my next breath. This moment, dear Lord, take me.'
"Observing the state of his mind, I put this question to him—'My dear boy, do you think the Lord has washed you in His blood, and clothed you in His precious righteousness?' 'Oh, yes, I do, mother,' was his prompt reply.
"His pains abating, he remarked, 'How kind the Lord is to me! I shall never be able to praise Him enough.' I said, 'My dear, you will have the countless ages of eternity to praise Him in.' He said, 'I want to go.' I answered, 'Pray for patience, that you may wait the Lord's time.' 'I am not impatient, but my pains are great,' was his meek reply, and he began entreating the Lord to remove him from this sinful world.
"A short time after this, he exclaimed, 'Oh, that precious Book, the Bible!' I answered, 'It is indeed a precious Book. It tells us of a Saviour, who washed you and me in His precious blood!' He said, 'Yes'; and added, 'Pray for Him to take me soon. Do, dear mother,' &c.
"Expressing a desire to kiss my hand, I gave him one. He held it very tightly, and kissed it several times. I asked him if he thought he had been a little sinner or a great one. Surprised by this question, and apparently hurt, he replied, 'Oh, mother, a great one—a great one.'
"Overhearing a part of my conversation with his aunt, he said, 'Oh, mother, do not ask the Lord to let me live. I want to die. I would not live half a second.'
"Shortly after, he repeated a similar prayer, wished to see his father, kiss him, and take his leave of him, which he did in an affectionate manner. He then inquired what o'clock it was, and being disappointed, cried out in a tone of thrilling solemnity, 'O Lord of Hosts, come and take me!' Shortly afterwards he exclaimed, lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, 'I think I am dying. Pray again, dear mother, that the Lord may take me.' Persuaded of his interest in Christ, I was enabled to resign him, and much as I loved him, actually entreated the Lord to fetch him away. When this was over, he said, 'Thank you, my dearest mother. I hope the Lord will answer all your prayers before long.'
"At another time, he remarked, 'How good the Lord is to me, is He not?' And again, 'My sufferings are great, but they will soon be over, for I shall soon be with the Lord'; and in a manner I cannot describe, exclaimed, 'Oh, dear Lord Jesus Christ, and Holy Ghost, come and take me.'
"Not long after, he remarked, 'I shall soon go now. Something has broke in my head. You may send for some one to lay me out.'
"After a short interval he complained of shortness of breath, and proceeded to call upon the Lord in a sweet manner, but in a short time suddenly exclaimed, 'Now I know I shall soon be gone, for two things have broke within me. Does not my voice get weaker?'
"After giving directions about his books, he again complained of his distresses, and I remarked, 'The way to the kingdom was through much tribulation.' He requested that I would pray for patience; and upon being reminded that the Lord loved him too well to detain him one moment beyond the appointed time, he said, 'Oh, why is He so long in coming? Dear Lord, come now!'
"Referring him to some of the Lord's children who had suffered fire and sword, but were now in glory, I added, 'You will soon be with them, and have ten thousand smiles from your Redeemer, with love in every smile.' This seemed to refresh his spirit, and I continued, 'One moment with Christ will more than recompense for all your pain.' He said, 'Oh, yes. Come, dear Lord, and take me!'
"Heart and flesh failing, his father was called into his room. The patient sufferer looked calmly at him, gently moved to the other side of the chair, said 'Mother!' and resting his head on his arm, and with a pleasant countenance, and without a groan, quietly fell asleep in Christ, November 17th, 1851, at five o'clock a.m."
Thus died George Woolford, aged nine years and nine months.
"Those that sleep in Christ will God bring with Him."
"'I take these little lambs,' said He,
'And lay them in My breast;
Protection they shall find in Me;
In Me be ever blest.
"'Death may the bands of life unloose,
But can't dissolve My love;
Millions of infant souls compose
The family above.'
"His words the happy parents hear,
And shout with joys divine—
'Dear Saviour, all we have and are
Shall be for ever Thine.'"
Hephzibah.
"My dear Hephzibah was taken ill on the fifth of November, and though I have not many sayings of hers to record, I nevertheless believe that there was 'some good thing in her toward the Lord God of Israel,' and therefore, in solemn pleasure, rehearse the memorials of His grace.
"On the fourth day of her illness she said, 'Mother, I am very ill, but I am not afraid to die, mother. No; I should like to die, and be with the Lord, for I do love Him, mother, that I do, better than every one besides.' 'But do you not love your father and mother best?' I inquired. Her answer was, 'I do love you both very dearly, but I love the Lord most. Ought I not to love Him most, mother?' I said, 'Yes, my dear.' She replied, 'And so I do. I want to go to heaven, to be with Him. And I should like my dear father, and mother, and Ann Jane, and George, and Rhoda to go with me. Would not that be happy, to meet and never part again? There we should have all we want.' I replied, 'Yes, my dear, "for the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of water, and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." "And there shall be no night there."' 'Oh, will not that be happy, mother?' she exclaimed. 'I want to die, that I may see the Lord. He is so good and kind to me.' I asked, 'Would you not like to get well again?' and her reply was, 'I would rather die and go to Jesus.'
"The frequency of her expressed desires to 'depart and be with Christ' excited a trembling apprehension in my mind of her speedy dissolution, an apprehension fully verified by the event.
"She now sunk into a state of unconsciousness, in which she continued for more than a week, suffering very much, indicating the speedy disrupture of all earthly ties, and inducing a perpetual vigil.
"To my surprise she suddenly rallied, seemed to get better, and 'hope told a flattering tale'; but it disappointed us, and rendered the separation more trying.
"The sensitive vigilance of my child's conscience was very remarkable. For instance, when any little delicacy had been declined, she remained inflexible, remarking that to alter her decision would be to 'tell a story,' which, she said, 'would be very wicked.'
"On the day she died, she said, 'Mother, I am very ill. I think I shall die. My throat is so bad.' Shortly after, she said, 'Mother,' and was silent. A few minutes after that, she lifted up her dear eyes and hands to heaven three times, clasping her hands and letting them down again.
"None but a mother knows a mother's heart. I saw the stroke, clasped my loved Hephzibah, and impressed the farewell kiss on her dying cheek. She looked at me, gave up the ghost, and was 'carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom' on November 28th, 1851, in the sixth year of her age."
"One gentle sigh their fetters breaks,
We scarce can say, 'They're gone!'
Before the willing spirit takes
Her mansion near the throne.
"Faith strives, but all its efforts fail
To trace her in her flight;
No eye can pierce within the veil
Which hides that world of light.
"Thus much (and this is all) we know—
They are completely blest;
Have done with sin, and care, and woe,
And with their Saviour rest."
[The memoir of the third child, Ann Jane, will appear next month.]