Then, every grace shall grow;
Its fruits in beauty shine;
From love shall every action flow,
And all the praise be Thine.
"I have been to see after two of my members, over whom I fear I have cause to mourn. One was gone out, yet could not come to class! The other was in bed! I fear there is a dearth of spiritual feeling. Lord, give me wisdom and faithfulness.—After collecting for the Missions, I visited a member of mine in the hospital, and prayed with several of the afflicted in the ward. The person, whom I went to see some time ago, is recovering, and wishes to join with us.
"Kirkby. I arrived here yesterday about ten o'clock, after a delightful journey; and am resolved, that change of scene shall make no difference in my religious feelings; unless, by the opportunity of retirement, I get closer to the Lord. My hearing is a little dull, but my prayer is, that this affliction may be sanctified; and removed, when the Lord pleases. Christ in me is the source of my happiness. I hunger after righteousness; more faith—humility—meekness—love. O how beautiful are the fruits of grace! The rich clusters of the heavenly vine, invite my longing taste.—Spent two nights at Follifoot, with Miss B. I went with the resolution of conversing with her on the necessity of a change of heart; and on reflection have no ground of condemnation; only, I might have used greater earnestness. My time has passed more pleasantly than I anticipated. We took a walk through the park to the late residence of a gentleman, who has been obliged to leave the country, in consequence of his own extravagance, and imprudence. His beautiful mansion is sinking in ruins; and loathsome reptiles are its only occupants. Such is earthly grandeur; and such the man, that makes not God his refuge. The grounds are delightful; but for want of proper cultivation, begin to show evident marks of the curse:—thorns and thistles springing up in abundance. Molly accompanied me back with the grey pony; and, as she walked by my side, I warned her to flee from the wrath to come.—Walked to Pannal; here I found need of watchfulness, and courage; all—in nature's night; blessed with earthly good; but destitute of heavenly peace. I prayed with the family each evening; and spoke to each member, with the exception of Mr. ——, on the need of preparation for another world; but my efforts were feeble. My happiest hours have been spent in retirement, and solitary walks; one of which, was extremely delightful. The picturesqueness of the scenery, combined with smiling heavens, conspired to raise my mind to Him, whose forming hand has adorned all nature, and has raised my soul from death to life. The scene vividly called to remembrance my beloved cousin Ann; with whom on this very spot, I had passed some of the happiest moments of my life. I felt what I cannot put into words. On my return to York, I found Eliza, bathing her face after the application of leeches; and Mary, putting John to bed, in the measles. Such is life! It is the Lord, and to His will, I would patiently submit."
XI.
A DYING SCENE.
"PRECIOUS IN THE SIGHT OF THE LORD IS THE DEATH OF HIS
SAINTS."—Psalm cxvi. 15.
How solemn, and instructive, is the scene of death! What a satire upon the pride, pomp, and vanity of the world! and yet, when relieved by the cheering experience of divine truth, what a blessed confirmation of all that the Bible tells us! The utterances of the dying Saint, come home to our hearts with peculiar force. It is as if the spirit of the departing, having reached the boundary of time, and looking forth on the unclouded scene beyond, shouted back to its companions yet enveloped with the mists and gloom of earth: "It is all true, you have only to follow on a little further, and the glorious prospect will burst upon you." Mrs. Lyth seems to have carefully treasured the last words of those, who, within the circle of her acquaintance, died in the Lord; and in the case of particular friends, these notices sometimes extend to several pages: as if she delighted to linger on the borders of another world, and to catch a momentary glimpse of its happiness, and the distant sound of the harpers, harping with their harps. An example occurs in the course of the following extracts.
"At the two o'clock class, many were in tears; while others testified of the Lord's goodness. We were, as one of the little hills of Zion, refreshed by the dew from above. In the evening I remained at home, intending, if the way opened, to go and see my cousin Elizabeth, who is very ill. John is recovering; Eliza is still unwell, but I will leave them in the Lord's hands.—A little before six, I left my cousin Elizabeth much better, and happy in God. She told me that in the night she could scarcely refrain from singing:—
'Here we raise our voices higher,
Shout in the refiner's fire,
Clap our hands amid the flame,
Glory give to Jesus' name.'
"On analysing the feelings of my heart, I find a disposition to brood over trifling grievances; this robs my peace, and encourages an unfavourable opinion of those who occasion them. This is surely some of the filthiness of the spirit from which I must be cleansed: I feel ashamed of it; Lord, deliver me.—Have been to see Fanny McD. She is very ill in body, but when asked respecting her soul, she said, 'I have had a feast to-day while alone with Jesus, my Redeemer.' She is one of the Lord's jewels, like Lazarus, enclosed in a casket of rags. After hearing Mr. Vevers preach from 'we must all appear at the judgment-seat of Christ,' I dreamt I saw the heavens melting with fervent heat. I felt no condemnation, but began to pray earnestly. The impression, which this has made on my mind, has awakened increased earnestness—A stranger came into the class, who was much affected; gladly would I have travelled in birth for her, until Christ was formed in her heart; but our time was limited, and she went mourning away. From thence I went to Albion Street School, to converse with some of the children; several of them wept. In the evening I attended St. John's Church. I can enjoy a Gospel ministry in the church, as well as the chapel: true religion destroys every wall of partition.—I received a very affecting letter from cousin Penelope. Elizabeth is in a very afflicted, but happy state. During the night I have been wakeful, and much drawn out in prayer; but felt reproved for having purchased something which I could have done without. I acknowledge my weakness. May the Lord give me a deeper sense of my responsibility, as the steward of His manifold gifts.—Retired from the bustle of the city to Eastfield House. I took a walk to the village, and called to see Miss H. on my way to the class-meeting. We joined in social prayer, when my friend exclaimed, 'I will believe, I do believe.' It was a blessed season;—a time of the breaking of bonds.—Cousin Samuel came with a gig, to convey me to Sinnington. I found my dear cousin ready to take her flight to a better world; or as she herself says: