His Holiness, the Pope,
Hath yielded up his breath;
He, who could sins forgive,
Hath no command o'er death;
How wonderful! such power to have,
And yet to sink into the grave!
If sin, the sting of Death,
His Holiness could draw;
Why render up His breath
Unto a conquered foe?
Either, he fallible must be,
Or sin hath gained the victory.
"I am thankful for the decision of character I feel. My daily want is more of the love 'that conquers all, and every mountain moves.'—My private communings with God are my most precious seasons. There I can tell all my wants, unbosom all my griefs, reveal all my secrets, expose all my temptations, and there the Lord graciously condescends to visit me with fresh manifestations of His love and power. These visits humble me, and give me to see, where my strength lies. Come, Lord, and dwell in me, that every moment I may have the witness that all I do is right.—I called to see my dear afflicted friend W., whose eldest daughter is slowly sinking into the tomb. As it was the hour we usually meet in band, we retired to pour out our souls before the Lord. My friend seemed willing to give up her daughter, if only she could be assured, that a divine change had taken place. The Lord gave us the Spirit of prayer to plead on this account, and glory be to God, in that same hour, He imparted peace to the dying child.—The night was awfully tempestuous. I rose twice to pour out my soul to Him, who rules the storm, and found sweet calm within.—After tea, Mr. Spence asked me, why I had invited my friends. I replied, it was my desire, that we should help each other to heaven. A conversation on holiness of heart ensued, which to me, and I trust to all present, was profitable. This conversation will leave no painful reflection. I avowed that I held, though with a trembling hand, the power to love God with all my heart, and felt the sweet assurance at the time; but the next morning when I awoke, it was suggested, I knew not what I had avowed. The satisfactory evidence was for a moment withdrawn; yet by faith I still resolved to hang upon the Saviour. I did not long remain in doubt, my peace of mind returned; and in the evening, while engaged in prayer (Eliza being with me), the divine influence sweetly overwhelmed my soul, and not mine only, my Eliza felt its power. Glory be to God.—I took tea with Mrs. E., the person with whom I lodged during my affliction. A sense of gratitude for past mercies stirred my heart to praise; and the time, which might otherwise have been spent in conversation to no profit, was spent in prayer.—I daily need the sprinkled blood, and the clear assurance of the perfect love which 'casteth out fear.' I dare not doubt that I possess, in a measure, its blessed fruits; but I long to rise higher, that no scruple may remain."
VIII.
PASSING CLOUDS.
"CAN ANY UNDERSTAND THE SPREADINGS OF THE CLOUDS."—Job xxxvi. 29.
Who can explain the involuntary emotions of human mind? How strange, that often, on the eve of some great misfortune, a sensible cloud should spread over the spirit; but whence it comes, or why, we cannot tell! To say it is a coincidence is only an acknowledgment of ignorance. Ought we not rather to refer it to the secret agency of the spirit-world by which we are surrounded; but of which we know so little? Perhaps God would thus timely warn us to seek refuge under the shadow of his wing, just as we seek shelter from the storm, which the cloud, that spreads itself upon the face of heaven, tells us is at hand. At least, it cannot be without advantage, when such monitions occur, to betake ourselves to more earnest prayer; then, come what may, we shall find a safe asylum in Him, to whom belongeth everlasting strength.—One of the first entries of the year 1824, is
THE CLOUD WILL SOON BLOW OVER.
Though far, and wide above my head,
The dull portentous cloud is spread;
With many a dark and massive fold,
Love decks it with a rim of gold.
The sun is shining still behind,
The promise of a purpose kind;
And, soon unveiled again, will dart
His cheering rays upon my heart.
Far brighter will His face appear,
Than if no cloud had gathered near.
Then, till the cloud is overpast,
My anchor, hope, on God I'll cast;
Assured while He is throned above,
The cloud is only sent in love.
About a fortnight after penning these lines, her father, whose continued life she had, every spring, hailed with a new song of gratitude, was suddenly seized with a fit of paralysis, which in a few days terminated his earthly career. A premonitory attack had occurred in the preceding autumn, which at the time affected his speech, but on recovering a little, he expressed his confidence in God in these remarkable words: "It is rolled up; it is rolled up. I am satisfied; I am quite satisfied. I am ready; when the Lord pleases, I am ready. The Lord hath given me eternal life. I know the Lord; I shall not perish. I shall not perish, for I am the Lord's." During the winter he had rallied again, and resumed his labours in his Master's cause. Hopes began to be entertained, that he might yet be spared a little longer; but these were suddenly cut off. About the beginning of February he was seized again, and it was soon apparent that this attack would prove fatal. His last testimony to the truth was strong and clear, and continued to be borne until the power of language failed. To the Rev. W. McKitrick, who came to visit him shortly before his departure, he said, in almost the same words the amiable Addison used to Lord Warwick, "You are come to see a Christian, die;" and then added, "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost. I used to sing that in the Church, when I knew not what it meant; but now I do." Not a shadow of a cloud rested upon the valley; it was full of light: and on the 24th of the month he died, in the full triumph of faith, esteemed and lamented by persons of every shade of opinion.