By reason of some cross shooting, that have to a certain extent prevailed, since the cottage was erected, I felt resolved to dispose of the first built ones—the six by the road, with the little one at the back with the gardens, retaining the last purchase and cottage thereon, to be for the benefit of my wife, in the event of her being the survivor, she should not be left destitute. I submitted my burden first to the Lord, from whom I sought direction. I weighed and pondered over it again and again. Then I resolved to consult Mr. Chater, a solicitor at Lowestoft, as to the expediency of a sale, or an annuity, and which of the two would be most preferable. As it was not prudent to proceed in too much haste, that gentleman required a week for consideration of the matter, and then at the expiration of that time the same subject could be renewed. During the interval, I made known to my wife what was in contemplation. It was treated very tamely, as being viewed by one taking a casual glance from a distant standpoint, as if the near approach and investigation was far beneath the attention of one who could for the time being stand aloof, ready to command an immediate surrender, when, as then thought the proper time had arrived, or should do so. Eventually, at my next interview with Mr. Chater, proposals were made as to taking the property off my hands, which were by me accepted. And, although for the last few years, property of that description have risen in value in the neighbourhood, of that I am glad. Yet representations have gone forth which have tended to work prejudice and mischief. I am willing to bend to all these drawbacks, and at present have never had the least cause to regret, but am thankful. This, then, I take to be one of the roads opened to me to walk therein, and in so walking cannot I see the good hand of my God, for good, for tranquility, after the bustle and perplexity and cares of business in obtaining my daily bread; and permitted, also, at times to partake of that bread which endureth unto eternal life. Here, then, is the comfort in finding the passage to the grave not only smoother, but the mind more comforted, being drawn off from worldly cares and attractions, and, while so favoured, I can think of my fallen condition, my original depravity from which there is no deliverance, except by the free grace of the Father, and the imputed righteousness of a sacrificed Redeemer. This leads me to prize the bloodshedding, the obedience, and intercession of the Lord Jesus Christ, the second Adam, the Lord from heaven, who has come to repair the ruins of the first, and to insist that “except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
An inquest was held on Saturday, the 6th day of June, 1874, before F. B. Marriott, Esq., at the late residence of Charles Goldsmith, who had hanged himself in his barn the preceding day.
I am now thinking of relinquishing my business as a boot and shoemaker, but not in the manner that poor miserable creature has done, who is mentioned above. I never felt envious at that kind of prosperity with which he was encompassed, but am preserved and defended even from my youth up, so that I can boldly say the Lord is my helper, and He is my strong defence, and I trust will be so even to the end of my course, which cannot be far distant, but soberness and vigilance are still needful lest the enemy of our souls obtain advantage. I need not indulge in idleness—a good deal of labour is required to bring my newly acquired ground into cultivation. Here is the fence to be planted, a living fence inside, and a wain fence of nine inches outside, which space I have a right to claim. This, of which I am now speaking, is the westernmost fence, and is getting up nicely. Then there were also barrows full of dandelions to extirminate, and the grass to bury deeply; the potatoes to plant and mould up that they might be productive, and many other kinds of garden work to perform, all in keeping with a healthful and, to some extent, remunerative occupation: and thus the time glided on.
I have not much to record this year (1875) although many mercies have been accorded to me, a good state of health, and privileged to have intercourse with friends, some of them being at a great distance, and very probably shall behold them no more in the flesh, yet we are privileged to serve the same God, “one God and Father of all,” ever ready to hear petitions and grant requests. There has lately been some irregularities practised by two of the members of the Pakefield Friendly Society in my district. An enquiry was set on foot, the charge made against them was proved, and the consequence was that they were both expelled, and all monies heretofore paid were forfeited to the use of the Society.
Old neighbour Sarah Bales died on the 17th January, having survived her husband eight years. The good Lord grant us pardon for our offences, for we lift up our souls unto Thee. Cast us not away from Thy presence, take not Thy holy spirit from us, but direct our hearts into Thy love, and our feet in the way of thy testimonies. Whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, may we do all to the glory of God, and walk as seeing Him that is invisible, and may God be the strength of my heart, the guide of my goings, and my portion for ever and ever, amen.
Another inquest was held by the same coroner, on the 15th May, 1875, on the body of James Paston, who was accidentally drowned in Oulton Dyke, from off his wherry, the preceding day. “Ye know not when the time is.”
There is no doubt but that every believer has his winter seasons of providential afflictions and of spiritual distress. Yet if the God of love is ever peculiarly near to his people for good, it is when His arrows stick fast in them, and when His hand presseth them sore, and at the time appointed their consolations return as the clear shining after rain, and theirs is as the sun when it goeth forth in its might, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of the birds has come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land—the peace of God.
The next inquest took place on Friday, the 20th day of August, at the “Lady of the Lake” Hotel, before Mr. William Ebden, deputy-coroner, on the body of Charles Everitt, aged eleven years, who was accidentally drowned by the capsizing of a sailing boat on Oulton Broad, on the afternoon of Wednesday, August 18th, 1875. How frail the youth, how short the date.
As I have but little to record as regards my own experience during this year (1876), I sit down and ponder over a paragraph of Dr. Dick’s Celestial Scenery. He says:—“There is no contrivance in the system more wonderful than the rings of Saturn. That these rings should be separated thirty thousand miles from the body of the planet, that they should, notwithstanding, accompany the planet in its revolution round the sun, preserving invariably the same distance from it, that they should revolve round the planet every ten hours at the immense velocity of more than a thousand miles in a minute, and that they should never fly off to the distant regions of space, nor fall down upon the planet, are circumstances which required adjustments far mere intricate and exquisite than we can conceive, and demonstrate that the Almighty Contriver of that stupendous Appendage to the globe of Saturn is ‘great in counsel and mighty in operation.’ Yet these adjustments, in whatever they may consist, have been completely effected. For this planet has been flying through the regions of space in a regular curve for thousands of years, and the system of its satellites and rings still remains as at its first creation.”
Mr. George Cox, the last of my wife’s uncles, died at Lowestoft on the 9th day of April, 1877, aged 71 years, having survived his wife eleven years and five months: “they desired a better country.” The memory of the mother and father is sweet to surviving children, and we will tread softly on their graves. The first that was called away experienced severe affliction for many years, but patiently endured to the end of her course. “If ye endure chastening God dealeth with you as with sons.”—Hebrews xii, 7.