The Foundling; or, The Child of Providence

by J. Church

It is a good remark I have somewhere met with—that friendship is a plant of too delicate a nature to grow with any great degree of luxuriancy and fruitfulness in the soil of the human heart; but I ever wish to prize its buds, its blossoms, its fruit, its very leaves; but, above all, its divine root. We may find many profess much kindness in the warmth of prosperity; but these summer insects, like butterflies, disappear when the cold blasts of adversity and reproach strike off a few of our outward comforts. But while this is to be lamented, yet God has often raised up those who have been sincere in their professions of attachment to his people, in all ages, and who have firmly stood by them, and gave them all the assistance they were able, in the depth of their afflictions; nor have they been unrewarded, at least, many of them, even in this world—nor shall they be forgotten of the Lord in the last day.—Matt. xxv. and close.

Abraham had three faithful friends, Aner, Eschol, and Mamre. The Lord raised up a friend for Joseph in trouble, and for David in his deep affliction, and for the great apostle for whom he prays—that he, Onesiphorus, may find mercy in that day, for he hath oft refreshed me, and was not ashamed of my chain. Such friends are the gift of the Friend of Sinners, and such friendship is a part of conformity to his image; praying for one another in secret; reproving with meekness, but fidelity, when permitted to err; speaking well of each other, when absent, and helping each other in trouble, are the genuine fruits of divine love in the heart; and such I have found many: and, although opposed for their candour, affection, and liberality; yet, considering they had a just right to form an opinion of their own, so they had as much right to maintain the same. Narrow minds who form opinions by bare report, are easily biassed, and generally bigotted; of course, such mean souls must persecute all who differ from them. This is the case in the professing world, at present; and it is much to be lamented. However, I have made free to inform you of some of those who have acted in a Christ-like manner to me in trouble, and have too much good sense to view me either as a perfect angel, or an incarnate devil; and to you I send these gingling rhymes:—

REAL FRIENDSHIP.
From Achor Vale.—1818.

On the subject of friendship I beg leave to write,
’Tis the joy of my heart, and my daily delight;
Though but little is found, that is true and sincere,
I think, in my case, an exception is clear.
The God of all grace, on whom I depend,
Has blessed his servant, with many a friend,
Who have not been afraid, or ever asham’d,
To esteem and to own him in sorrow and pain.
One half of the faithful and firm I’ve forgot,
And many besides, whose names I know not;
Yet those who occur this moment to mind,
My God will reward in their being so kind;
And more so they’d be, if it laid in their pow’r,
To soften my woes in this trying hour.
May the love of the Lord, which he bears to his saints,
Encourage their hearts, when ready to faint
With the cares, and the burdens, and griefs of the way,
And acknowledge them all in the last trying day.
See this promise so sweetly and clearly reveal’d
By the Head of the Church, in the great gospel field;
Particularly in Matthew, the Saviour rehearses
In 25th chapter, and some excellent verses.
I must tell you of Hairbys, and Elbro’s and Park,
With a Knawler, a Duke, a Smith, and a Clarke;
A Fossett, a Grumuat, and a kind-hearted Trail,
Whose care and concern, like the Lord’s, never fail.
Nor can I forget my friend, Mr. Denny,
Who stood up for my good as undaunted as any.
Our worthy clerk, Shelton, has oft stood the fire,
When many in envy and rage did conspire.
I feel much indebted to dear brother Gray,
And all those beside, who preach and who pray;
And fill up my place, that there might be no lack
Of the gospel of grace, till God brings me back.
With all those dear friends, who supply all my needs,
Kind Miller, her mother, and two worthy Meads;
An Osborne, a Davis, a Harris and Gower,
Who on me and on mine their gifts often pour;
A Harbro, a Sweetland, and Allen, and King,
Who sometimes send favours, and sometimes they bring;
And many also, who have well stood the brunt,
A Pattison, Puddicombe, Hutchins, and Hunt;
Nor do I forget our friend Hutchinson,
As well as kind Kings, some old and some young;
And Westbrook, and Knapp, who have oft took my part,
And Williams, a Farley, and London, and Smart;
A Boro, a Blake, and dear father Bevan,
With their partners in life, who are going to heaven;
And Goodmans, and Roberts, some Hills, and a Bell,
And Thornton, and Mansion, and Edwards, and Dale.
I remember, likewise, a Houghton, and Field,
With a firm friend of their’s, who never would yield
To the fabulous stuff, and ridiculous story,
But remained as firm as the faithful M. Morey.
The names of a Jones, and a Chadsby are dear,
And Salter, and Lewis, and Frimbley sincere;
A Brook, and a Bradley, a Buhle, and a Wise,
A much-esteem’d Farmer, who ne’er has despis’d;
A Hedgecock, and Lamb, who are both very kind,
As such permanent friendship we seldom can find;
And dear father Elstub, and Shires, and Booth,
Who often endeavour my sorrows to soothe.
I must mention some more, as they are so good,
A Ward, and a Whitear, who undaunted have stood;
A Paynter, a Waters, and Carpenter too,
With his Brother, and Fuller, and Jennison true;
More Watkins, and Smiths, who have well stood the fires,
And old daddy Foyer, and two good Marias;
A Parnicutt, and Archer, who have stood many rubbings,
And Barrett, and Steggall, and Shephard, and Stubbings
An Atkins, a Pollet, and Farrers, and Thorn,
And as faithful a Watts as ever was born;
A Bayles, a Dennage a Bates, and a Brown,
Who are grieved to see my sad casting down;
A Paton, a Chambers, a Juden, and Pytches,
An Orchard, and Hunter, who are seeking true riches;
A Joseph, a Jolliffe, a Druce, and a Manger,
A very kind Mackie, and Perrins, and Granger;
And Wilkins, and Eaton, and Faro, and North,
Who are lov’d by the Lord, and redeemed from wrath;
With Millingtons, Boltons, and dear Mrs. Round,
And the much belov’d Hans, whose care still abounds;
The exercis’d Robinson, Ward, Nelson, and Ford,
And Marshal and Lucas, who’re trusting the Lord;
With poor Jenny Powell, and Martin, and Fishers,
And Darby, and Wilson, my very good wishers;
And Foster, and Court, and Davies, and Dee,
And Mary, her friend, and kind Barbary;
And Chapman, and Calow, and Davies, and Reeds,
And some very good Lawsons, who supply many needs;
A dear friendly Groom, and Napier, and Swindle,
A Tomlins, and Marshal, whose care does not dwindle;
A much-esteem’d Walton, and neice, so sincere,
And many besides, to my mind who are dear;
A Wright, and a Pearson, and Hepworth, and Mott,
Thus you see, my dear friends, I am not quite forgot;
And Leonard, and Wallace, and Masland, and Pain,
Who are praying, and waiting to hear me again;
With Freeman, and Wilkins, and Cornish, and Sherman,
Who love much to hear a real gospel sermon;
And Dibley, and Dudley, and Tungate, and Fleet,
And Candler, and Knox, whom I long much to meet;
The very dear friends, whose names are call’d Cross,
Whom God has sustained in every loss;
And Williams, and Eves, whose hearts are kept single,
And Upstill, and Miles, a Cook, and an Ingle;
With a March, and a Beat, and exercis’d Green,
Who often in sorrow and grief have me seen;
And good Mrs. Butcher, and Baker, beside.
Who have firmly stood for me, whatever betide;
And Fairfleet, and Tye, and Woodhouse, and Long,
And Goodly, his brother, and kind Esther Young;
And Claytons, and Jackson, and Lewis, and Rose,
And Thornton, and Miland, a Burnham, and Hose;
And Drewet, and Mars, and Reardon, and Aikin,
Who have seen me cast down, but never forsaken;
And Woodward, and Youngs, and Venning, and Horner,
Another friend Brown, and the tried Mrs. Warner;
A Winch, and a Hone, a Turner, and Pool,
The tried Underdown, who is in the same school;
The sincere Mrs. Grant, and Missen, and Leigman,
The Paddington Friends, and old mammy Bridgman;
Good old Mrs. Clark, and Thompson, and Cowen,
A very kind Johnson, and Whitehead, and Owen;
The kind Mr. Wilson, and firm Mrs. Baily,
And Poulter, and Barns, who esteem’d me sincerely;
But ’tis time I conclude this gingling writing,
Not forgetting dad Round, and the sweet-temper’d Whiting;
With a hundred besides, whose names I’ve forgot,
But in the last day will stand in their lot.

Do not you think, in a few years time, I shall be as apt a poet, as good old Bunyan?

Please to regularly regulate these irregular irregularities.

I cannot conclude this letter without reminding you of the apostolic exhortation—“As we have opportunity, let us do good unto all men, but especially to the household of faith;” and if to this household we sow sparingly, we shall reap sparingly; and if we sow bountifully, we shall reap bountifully; and on this subject of kindness to God’s children, as such, our dear Lord declares—“He that receiveth a prophet, in the name of a prophet, shall receive a prophet’s reward; and he that receiveth a righteous man, in the name of a righteous man, shall receive a righteous man’s reward; and whosoever shall give unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water only, in the name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall, in no wise, lose his reward.”—Matthew, x. 41, 42. And, very frequently, such are rewarded in this world, in temporal mercies, for the kindness they have shewn to the members of Christ. The widow of Sarepta, nourished the Prophet Elijah in her house, during the whole time of famine; and how did the Lord abundantly recompence her, by daily increasing her oil and meal, whereby her family was preserved; by restoring her son to life again, after his soul was departed; and by causing the prophet to continue with her many months, to feed her soul with spiritual, as she had his body with temporal food? How abundantly did the Lord recompence the Shunamite’s kindness to Elisha, by the gift of a child, after long barrenness; by restoring her son to life again; by forewarning her of approaching famine; and by restoring all she had lost by her long absence—her house and lands? God had blest Job with a merciful heart; and he relates what the Lord had enabled him to do—chap. xxix. and xxxi. And, although afterwards he was stripped of all he possessed, to answer the wise and gracious ends of God towards him; yet, we read, chap. xlii. that the Lord turned the captivity of Job, and gave him twice as much as he had before, and blessed his latter end more than his beginning. In the history of the apostle, Paul, we read of one Publius, Acts, xxviii. the chief man of the island of Malta, (where the apostle and many others were cast by shipwreck;) this kind man received Paul and his companions, and lodged them courteously. We read, soon afterwards, how the father of Publius, laying desperately sick of a fever and bloody flux, was recovered by St. Paul, and restored to his former health. So, likewise, the kindness which the barbarous people of that island shewed unto Paul and his fellow travellers, was recompensed with the cure of many of their sick bodies.

A thousand other instances might be produced, of ancient and of modern date. And, supposing no reward is experienced in this world, the God of truth has declared—“Thou shalt be recompensed in the resurrection of the just.” This is evident in the close of Matthew, xxv.—“Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these, my brethren, ye did it unto me.”—No doubt the cruel tongue of fallen man may criticise and censure such conduct, but, acting from a motive of Bible love, such persons will meet with their reward: envy, detraction and cruelty is in the heart and conduct of thousands, but woe unto him by whom the offence, the slander, cometh—it had been better for him if he had never been born. But what are those whose tongues are worlds of iniquity, and whose teeth are swords and spears? As saith the Poet—

—“No, ’tis slander;
Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.”

But the Redeemer saith—“And blessed is he that is not offended in me.”