One of my acquaintances was a young man, apprenticed to William Pidgeon, named John Scarlett. That young man was a vessel of mercy, soon to be gathered home to the heavenly garner. He was my guide, philosopher, and friend. “We took sweet counsel together, and walked to the House of God” in company. He sought, and obtained, instruction from the best source, and in turn I myself received much valuable instruction from him.
The first Christmas arrived. During my apprenticeship I was permitted to go to Laxfield, and see my parents. I had not forgotten the promise as to the Christmas-box, so I called on Mr. Lenny, and reminded him of what I had not forgotten at this happy season. I was invited to sit down to table with his people, and have a bowl of good firmity. While I was enjoying the comfortable meal, Mr. L. came into the room, and asked me if I thought I could ride a pony to Laxfield. I was happy to answer in the affirmative. Orders were given, the pony was brought out, and doubly glad was I to go and see my parents, and also to be furnished with a horse to ride; but I was to leave it with Mr. Alling, the gentleman who had been successful in preserving my eyesight, as before stated.
I delivered up my charge, with a letter of instructions from the sender. I knew that Mr. Lenny’s eldest son was living with Mr. Alling, and most likely the pony was for his son’s use. However, I had performed my engagement safely. My short Christmas holiday soon came to an end, and, taking leave of my parents, I was now, for the first time, on foot, to measure the whole length of that dreary road that intervened between the past and the future—the past I was somewhat acquainted with, but as to the future, I wondered and pondered, and sped my way onward, sometimes with tardy steps and a heavy heart, but during the evening of that short winter’s day I arrived home.
I was under a promise to write to my parents, and inform them if I was once more safe at home. The postage was high at that time, being eightpence for each letter. We had not as yet felt the benefit of Rowland Hill’s cheap postage, although we had the benefit of “Rowland Hill’s Village Dialogues”—these are good and profitable.
I passed through my first winter pretty comfortable, now and then being sent out with the pony, and sometimes with the cart, which pleased me very well, as I so enjoyed a trip.
One morning I was called up rather early to fetch some milk for the family, for the cow was not always in profit. As soon as I had put on my boots, and had opened the door, I fell down perfectly insensible and unconscious. My master and mistress were on the room above. They thought I was gone out, but when they found I was not, they soon came to see. They were greatly alarmed thinking it might occur frequently; and I thought how easily my Father and my God could have removed me from this troublesome world. But thanks to His great goodness and mercy, I never remember to have had a recurrence of that solemn visitation. It brought me to consider my state by nature, as a sinner before God; and I expressed gratitude and thankfulness that my life was still preserved.
Thenceforth, I resolved to seek the Lord, feeling that it was my bounden duty to serve Him, and I prayed for direction in this important matter. My young friend, Scarlett, of whom I have spoken, was permitted to attend the Wesleyan Chapel, at North Cove, and myself was also allowed to join him, and we felt it a privilege to listen to the truths as there taught. We felt that the Most High was the Father of Mercies, imparted to us, his creatures, through the atonement of Christ for the remission of sins. My friend’s views were Calvanistic; mine were not so, and we were prompted and exhorted to search the Scriptures. We did search, comparing spiritual things with spiritual help from above.
About this time, one of the members of the chapel (Mrs. Keer), of Mutford, was removed by death, and a funeral sermon was preached in North Cove Chapel, from the words: “Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his.” We had then placed before us the characteristics of a christian, or a believer, seeking salvation through the merits of the Great Redeemer, and as obedient children looking and praying and watching to the end of our course, amidst the temptations and impediments that bestrew our pathway here below. These timely observations and other christian duties were insisted on by Mr. Gibson, the good minister, the burden of which we treasured up in our young minds, and in the case of my friend I have no doubt produced good fruit unto eternal life, for his was destined to be but a short journey to the Celestial City.
Mr. Pidgeon kept a cow, as did my master, and we sometimes had to drive them to marsh in the summer season—about a mile. We almost always had to go on Sundays, and then we could talk over our religious impressions and other matters. As he had a pious mother, who prayed for him, consequently he was a beloved partaker of the benefit, and he did appreciate it as a brother beloved, elected of God.
’Tis well with the righteous, God views them as such,
They go to their Father, and can’t ask too much;
In Christ, they are righteous, and who dare bring a charge?
The blood of atonement hath signed their discharge.