"THE DAY GOETH AWAY, FOR THE SHADOWS OF EVENING ARE
STRETCHED FORTH."—Jer. vi. 4.
Have you ever observed the effect produced upon the eye by the rapid decrease of light, which takes place as night draws on, during that season of the year in which the twilight is shortest? For some minutes there appears a rapid succession of light and shade, each succeeding shadow deepening in gloom, until the night sets in. This phenomenon arises from the necessity which the pupil of the eye finds of adapting itself to the diminution of light; and it has hardly done so, before the increasing darkness requires a still further expansion of the visual aperture. Just so in human life, when its brightness has departed, and the night is at hand; there is often a rapid succession of painful occurrences, which fall like shadows upon the soul, and it has continually to adapt itself to its altered circumstances. The eye of faith can scarce keep pace with the demands made upon it, and the effect is a sense of occasional depression, which even the Christian cannot altogether resist. In the last two or three years of her life, Mrs. Lyth experienced what it was to be "in heaviness through manifold temptations;" and although she wore the same happy smile, exhibited the same unwavering, and even triumphant confidence in God, and to all around her, it was evident she was fast ripening for her glorious reward; her diary shows that she was, in some of her solitary hours, subject to momentary depression; which, as she made no allowance for altered circumstances, and increasing infirmities, she was in danger of attributing to a wrong cause. It was not until after the death of her husband that there was any perceptible decline of her physical energies; the "snow of age" fell lightly, so that she still continued for some time to discharge her accustomed duties in the church, until increasing weakness compelled her to relinquish, one by one, her visiting district for the Benevolent Society; her collecting books for various Institutions; the Visitation of the school; the Treasurership of the Poor Clothing Society; the Presidency of the Sewing meeting; and last, and to her the most painful of all—her Class; for like her Lord, having loved her own, which were in the world, she loved them to the end. This unavoidable cessation from her "more abundant" labours, and the life of passive suffering she was now called to endure, perhaps more than anything else, was sometimes a source of painful reflection, and became an occasion of powerful temptation. She could not, however, be inactive; much of her time passed in reading and prayer. Her pen and her knitting-needle were in constant requisition, and a fine day, or a little renewal of strength, often induced her, at the peril of her own health, to visit an unconverted neighbour, or an afflicted friend. The sudden removal of her daughter was acutely felt, and elicited several efforts of her muse, two of which are here given.
"1857.—Gone! gone! gone! The empty chair I see,
But ah! no smile, as once, alights on me.
In what bright region doth thy spirit rest?
Since all are living, thou art surely blest.
I ask no more, the veil will soon remove,
And I shall come to dwell with thee above.
"Just before I awoke, I dreamed I was reading; and it was written, 'He will receive thee to Himself, and give unto thee a kingdom.' It was repeated thrice."
LONE MUSING.
Doth her spirit hover near!
Doth she ever watch o'er me?
Am I still to her as dear
As when in flesh she cared for me?
If she now, with wistful eyes,
Strives, unseen, to draw me higher;
Let me wisdom doubly prize,
More and more to heaven aspire.
Lo! the Spirit and the Bride
Lovingly invite me on,—
Seek my wandering heart to guide
To the Father, through the Son.
I will answer to the call;
Thou my portion, I Thy child;
Here in self-abasement fall,
Trusting in Thy mercy mild.
"I am glad to hear that in Haxby the Lord has been giving 'showers of blessing.' Mr. McOwan has given twenty-nine notes on trial. I am the Lord's prisoner; looking up, yet I feel my lonely position.—It was suggested, 'I am thy salvation.' I paused and asked, from what? From the world, sin, self, and thy deadly foes. 'I am thy salvation,' from all thy inward evils; pride, unbelief, love of the creature, from every thing contrary to love. This salvation is all mine, through Christ, by faith.—Rose a little after six; very feeble; nearly read through the book of Ezra, and saw how God helps the good in times of difficulty. I feel depressed: Lord, help me!—I rode to the Cemetery to see the spot where my Eliza lies. Well, a little while, and I hope to join her among the spirits of the just made perfect. I proceeded from thence to my brother's in Dove Street.—Have been a week in Dove Street. Through mercy I have been able to rise every morning at six; and while reading Dr. Clarke's Theology, my spiritual strength has been, renewed. I have enjoyed many blessings from the Lord, and my time has passed pleasantly, but my poor brother is very, very infirm. I have called on several friends in the street, and had the opportunity of praying in two families.—Latterly, during the night season, the enemy has afflicted my mind with painful temptations; but I am not left to myself, the Lord is my helper.—To-day I was much drawn out in prayer for one of my grandsons. Surely the Spirit moved me. After tea, four of my grandsons, and my daughter, bowed with me before the Lord. It was a time to be remembered. The Lord drew near, and I was melted down before Him.—Weak yet pursuing. My daughter Mary unexpectedly read to me the words, 'Lo! I am with you alway even to the end of the world.' The truth thrilled through my heart, as a flash of lightning.—Sweet peace. This evening a stranger, brought by E.F., came to converse on spiritual subjects. We prayed together, and the Lord drew near.—Alone; but graciously moved by my heavenly Father to pour out my soul in prayer; I enjoyed sweet access by the Holy Spirit, on behalf of many dear ones. Glory be to God, that to a worm He manifests His presence, and reveals His love. Mary had a note from Richard, informing us of a change of purpose respecting his return to England. Well; if they commit their way unto the Lord, they will not err far. This shall be my prayer for them, while strength is continued.—Awoke by a fit of coughing, I heard as if a voice spoke to me, 'Union with Jesus gives the power of patience.' I feel it.—Met the Lord's people in great weakness, but with great longing for their spiritual health. Miss R. read me a letter from Miss K., informing her of the happy change, which had taken place in her mind. My soul rejoiced to hear the news, particularly as she had been for some time laid upon my mind whenever I approached the throne of grace."
"1858.—My John spent a few days with us. I have enjoyed his company more than ever before; perhaps I prayed more, that it might be so. I think I feel more deeply the hallowing influence of prayer. My soul feeds on Jesus. Glory be to God for a Saviour."
While midnight shadows blended,
And nature seem'd to sleep,
Me, angel watchers tended,
Who always vigil keep;
I felt them hov'ring o'er me,
Though hidden from my view;
A veil was spread before me,
But is the thought less true?
Watch'd by these heavenly strangers,
'Who all my paths attend,'
And oft from foes and dangers,
My progress would defend;
O give me circumspection
To guard against the foe,
Then, sure of their protection,
I on to conquest go.
"Only nine present at the class. I spoke to them, but felt the effect upon my feeble body for two days afterward; yet it was good to talk to them of the love of Jesus.—I have been exercised by the common foe; depressed in feeling, but never left without the power to draw near to God in prayer. Thank God, for some days past my spirit has been revived; and this morning my heart is trusting in the Lord, Glorious news from America! The Lord is saving by thousands. O that the breath of heaven may reach our own shores!"