That stage of life which immediately precedes a ripe age, when man is in the full vigour of his strength, is not unfrequently like an April day mingled with sunshine and shower. The care of a rising family, and the accumulating interests of business and society, bring constant alternations of joy and sorrow; designed by God to soften and fructify the heart, which might otherwise become too callous under the scorching blaze of the world. Happy is it, when these kindly workings of a sublimer providence, cause the graces of his spirit to shoot forth like "the tender grass springing up out of the earth by clear shining after rain;" and when the experience acquired in seasons of vicissitude, is treasured up in the heart for future use. Mrs. Lyth had her April weather preparatory to the summer of her usefulness, as will appear by further extracts from her journal.
"1815—My father Lyth left us to join the disembodied throng. The last fortnight of his life was chiefly spent in prayer. I believe he died penitent. Thou best of Beings! prepare me for the approaching trial. In the fire may I lose nothing but sin. Fortify my mind, and let patience have its perfect work, that by no pain I may fall from Thee. Here I call to mind, that Thou hast brought me through six troubles; O leave me not in the seventh. Let me again prove Thy faithfulness.
"I scarcely know how the last fortnight has escaped. O the rapidity of time! well might one say, 'O time than gold more precious, more a load than lead to fools.' I am thankful, all my solid happiness is derived from God; and though I have many earthly comforts I can say, 'All my springs are in Thee.' I long to drink more freely of those living fountains, and to draw constant supplies from the inexhaustible fulness of the ever-blessed and adorable Jesus. Oh! it is sweet to meditate on this loved theme. Rising into God we lose ourselves, and seemed wrapped up in Deity.—Having met with a little disappointment, my mind is in some degree unhinged; I have been begging of God to undertake the matter, and overrule all for the best, which I hope has been the case; yet I find it hard to give up my own will. Lord, help me. I accompanied my father and mother to see cousin Hannah, who is apparently declining. Her prospects in life were exceedingly bright, but happiness is not in them, as there can be no enjoyment without health. What a mercy, afflictions spring not out of the dust: I am again called to experience it. Our apprentice, servant maid, and Eliza, are all in the scarlet fever. Better than I could expect considering the pressure upon me, I am constrained to say, judgment is mixed with love. May we lose nothing but dross, and shine brighter for being in the furnace.—I am informed by letter that cousin Hannah is no more,—it says nothing how she left this world. I long to know—will to-morrow inform me? I purpose to be at her funeral, if God give leave. O Thou, who wast to the Israelites both a pillar and a cloud, if Thou go not up with us, suffer us not to journey; for Thou knowest my heart, I wish to please Thee.—We went to Kirkby to the interment of my late Cousin, who, I am informed, died happily. Nearly her last intelligible words were, 'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' So she closed this mortal scene, and left her blooming prospects, fair estates, and all the bright anticipations of youth, for the lone silence of the tomb.—I feel more endeared than ever to the invisible world, being warned as I believe, by some departed friend, to give diligence. I am also reminded by the death of my cousin how vain are all things here below. Perhaps it was her kind spirit—who can tell?"
A QUESTION ASKED.
Does marriage, like the features of a fair and lovely face,
Lose all its sweet attractions, when age comes on apace?
Do soothing acts of kindness and words of comfort go,
When troubles are assailing, and pleasure's cup is low?
No, surely heav'n design'd it more to ameliorate
The lonely state of humankind, when first He form'd a mate.
"1816.—I went to the School-room; and never did my eyes behold a scene so pleasing:—boys and girls in different parts of the room crying for mercy; while others were rejoicing in God. 'Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings Thou hast ordained praise.' I longed for the salvation of my three children who were all there, but I had no power to take any active part; my mind seemed paralized.—In the midst of our afflictions God has not forgotten us. Our Waller [an apprentice] has obtained mercy, and Eliza's heart is touched. O that God would save all our family. I have had some 'seasons of refreshing;' but not enjoying the sanctifying influences of God's Spirit, I have felt a disposition to be discontented with the arrangements of Providence respecting the health of my children. I daily mourn this inbred corruption but not sufficiently, or I should be more in earnest to get rid of it. At present I feel a longing for the blessed liberty which many express. O may I share in the baptism which is now so gloriously shed upon this city.—The fifth day I have spent in my new habitation; all is confusion, and must remain so for some time to come. This would be a matter of little moment, if my mind were not distressed by the affliction of my Eliza. So I find every joy has its sorrow. Lord, as Thou knowest what is best for me and mine, give me patience, and let every dispensation of Thy providence be sanctified.—We opened our new shop. The first customer demanded credit, and the second took up her money with her goods, and went away with both. Providentially it was restored. We have now made a fortnight's trial, and have great cause of thankfulness for the prospect of success. The last few months have been full of toil and anxiety, but thank God, I can say:
'While blest with a sense of His love
A palace a toy would appear;
And prisons would palaces prove,
If Jesus but dwelt with me there.'
I have been aiming, though feebly, to give God my heart. It is good to come to the Lord in private; it is there I find my greatest enjoyment.—For several nights I have suffered much pain; as much I think, as my patience could endure. In one of the paroxysms, the passage was continually in my mind, 'The wise shall inherit glory.' Throughout yesterday found it very sweet. I am in part deprived of the public ordinances, but find solid happiness in breathing my wishes to the Throne, and derive sweet solace from Him, whose smile creates my day.—Find in private with my God, I gain the most substantial peace; at least I have not learned the noble art of being ''midst busy multitudes alone.'—Our servant was taken dangerously ill. I think I did not feel any disposition to murmur; but want firmer reliance on the power of God, whose promise never fails. Have lately had some blessed meetings with my God, perhaps preparatory to this trial."
"1817. To-morrow, two criminals are to suffer death for the crime of murder. How awful from an earthly judge to receive the last sentence of the law! but how much more so to hear from Thee that final sentence, 'Depart ye cursed!' O, my God, let the cry of the prisoners come up before Thee.
In pity bow Thy gracious ear,
Incline the sinner's heart to prayer,
And draw him to Thy Son,
Through whom, though vile he is, Thou wilt
Remove the blackness of his guilt;
Oh! let it now be done.