Mr. John Burton, of Lowestoft, fell down his stairs on the night of Sunday, August 19th, and was so fearfully injured that he died within ten hours afterwards.
Dangers stand thick through all our paths,
To push us to the tomb.
The harvest of this year was generally begun on the 13th of August, and it was rather showery during the remainder of the month, yet we had some bright days, so that the wheat was secured in good condition, but it was very wet during the month of September. Wednesday, the 5th, was the only day in that week suitable for barley carting, and then it rained at six o’clock in the evening. Thursday, 13th, was the next fine day; men were employed in lifting and preparing the corn for carting, only to be followed by a heavy rain next morning, so that the only day in that week for carting was Saturday, and then it again rained by six o’clock in the evening. Patience and prayers are needed.
The harvest-home festival was unusually late, owing to the unfavourable state of the weather. The corn could not be carried before Thursday, September 27th, yet there is still great cause for thanks that the corn is secured, that provision is made for our returning winter, and that our Heavenly Father is good and merciful still, although we are so prone to murmur.
January, 1867, arrives with its abundance of frost and immense blocks of drifting snow. Two or three of my old neighbours are removed by death in quick succession—Archer Beales, the elder, on January 5th, aged 74; the wife of Robert Newbury was called home, January 12th; and John Cox, my wife’s father, died on the 19th January, aged 76 years, and buried on Sunday, 27th, having lived a widower 19 years and 11 months. Thus Death is commissioned to remove us, from the Prince Consort, in the palace, to the peasant in his humble cot. At this time, also, is stricken down my old neighbour and friend, George Mobbs, a man of strict integrity, who served with me in the office of parish constable, having removed to Mutford, and, after having lived there five months, died, and was brought to Oulton, and buried on Sunday, the 10th March. Then, again, at Lowestoft, Sergeant Hargraves, drill-instructor, is walking out on Sunday evening, the 5th May, when he was suddenly taken ill and died, at the age of 41 years, calling to us, who are survivors of these painful events, that the ways of Jehovah are far above our finite and limited conception.
A sad event occurred in the spring of this year by the upsetting of a boat on Oulton Broad. On Good Friday, April 10th, 1868, a party of three young men engaged a boat, that they might amuse themselves upon the water. The wind on that day became strong, and, themselves unskilful in managing it, very soon overturned, and all were immersed in the water, two of them—James Ellis Fisk and John Knights—both aged 18, were drowned. It was a sad spectacle the jury were called to view, as they were laid side by side, prepared for burial. Their life had vanished as a dream, when one awaketh.
My two new cottages were built this year; they were begun on Thursday, the 5th March, and in due time were completed. This was a remarkably hot and dry summer, as by a note to hand:
There has been a very long drought, June passing almost without rain. A little fell on the 2nd., and now we are arrived at the 17th of July, and on this day it has pleased God, in His mercy, to command the rain to descend in abundance, with a sharp tempest, the two previous days having been very hot.
The harvest was generally begun on the 24th of July, and at Mr. Barnard’s farm, at Carlton, the whole of the corn was gathered in by the 30th of that month, and the harvest-home festival celebrated at Oulton, on the 20th August.
My wife’s only brother, who had been suffering from consumption for a long time, died October 8th at Lowestoft, aged 46 years, leaving a widow and four children to mourn their bereavement. We took the second boy under our charge, and kept him seven years. During that interval, his two brothers had died, and only him and his sister was left. Edmund Challis, my wife’s sister’s husband, was killed by a loaded carriage passing over his body on the 17th of February, 1869, surviving his first wife only three years. We know not what a day may bring forth. I happened to meet that poor man coming from Lowestoft with the loaded wagon, and he was then riding, not thinking that would be the last time that I should see him, but it proved to be so, and he is gone. There is a piece of ground adjoining my garden, containing about 40 perches, and belonging to Mr. Knights. That gentleman was willing to treat with me as to the purchase of the same, and we agreeing, I became the purchaser thereof for £45, and had the pump put down thereon in the month of May, having found, and still continuing to find a good supply of pure water—thanks to the Giver of all good. It is delightful to live and walk in the shining of God’s countenance; but to die in the light and consolation of his presence is the crowning mercy of all. How gracious is the Holy Spirit of Promise to shine away the doubts and fears of His people, and put them to bed by daylight! O, may it be more and more my privilege to taste the sweetness of His love, rise into a nearer conformity to His image; enjoy closer communion with Him, and experience an increasing sense of his never-failing faithfulness, and catch a glimpse of that page in the Book of Life, whereon is written my unworthy name.