Ragged homes and how to mend them

by Mrs. Bayly

No one knew; it was simply a word in their minds, unconnected with any ideas. At last, one woman said she thought it was something that the Jews did.

“When I was talking to you about Abraham, a little while ago, do you remember my telling you that God had called him away out of an idolatrous country; because He intended, from Abraham and his children, to raise up a nation, in which the knowledge of Himself should be preserved? God then commanded Abraham, that he and all his children—meaning all the Jewish nation—should be circumcised; intending, by setting this mark upon them, to shew that they were a distinct people, and not intended to mix with any other nations of the world. From that time, until the advent of our Saviour, every male child amongst the Jews was circumcised on the eighth day after its birth.

“After the resurrection of our Saviour, He commanded His apostles to go into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature. It was no longer to be confined to this one nation. Christ had died for all, not for the Jews only: and all must hear this good news. Circumcision was a painful rite; and as Christ had suffered for us, He no longer enjoined this upon His followers: in its stead, the simple, beautiful, and expressive ordinance of baptism was instituted; and all who call themselves Christians should thankfully use it, as making a line of separation, as it were, between them and the heathen world, as the Jews used circumcision to distinguish themselves from the idolatrous nations by which they were surrounded.

“When, therefore, we take our infants to be baptized, it is as if we said—‘I call the Church and the world to witness that I desire for my child that he may be brought up in the faith and practice of a Christian. I beseech you, that are here assembled, to unite with me in prayer to Almighty God, that, through the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, He will grant to this child that thing which by nature he cannot have; that he may be baptized with water and the Holy Ghost, and received into Christ’s holy Church; and that I may have grace given me so to train my child that he may be a blessing to the world as long as he lives, and, finally, through the righteousness provided by the death and sufferings of our blessed Saviour, may come to the land of everlasting life and happiness, and dwell in His bright presence for ever.’”

This explanation, although it was broken up and illustrated in a way that it would be tedious to repeat here, was not perfectly intelligible to them at first; but as they asked questions about it, a clearer light seemed gradually to dawn upon their minds. One woman said she “always had a-done it, but never had no thought in her mind about it before.”

We concluded the evening by reading of the little children who were brought to Jesus; and then, in united prayer, we commended the sorrowing mother to Him who came to comfort Martha and Mary concerning their brother. We thanked Him for the loan, though so short, of this sweet and lovely child, whose mission on earth seemed to have been to awaken in its mother a purer and holier nature. And we thanked Him, too, that “ere sin could blight, or sorrow fade,” the Good Shepherd, who had laid down His life for this lamb of the flock, had resumed the care of this precious one, had spared him the contest of life, and taken him to Himself, to be safe and happy for ever.

I always feel tempted, when reviewing my journal, to linger over the narrative of the “Fast-day evening.” I recall how we sat and talked till the daylight had faded into twilight, and then we watched the fire as its flickering blaze occasionally rested on the placid face of some infant sleeping on its mother’s lap. I recall, as if it were but yesterday, the earnest and fixed attention, with which this company of mothers listened to the glad tidings of a Saviour for their little ones. Had He been presented to us as our Saviour only, we must have loved Him; but how much more when we realised that, at such infinite cost, He had stretched forth His hand to save those dearer to us than life, from everlasting destruction!

Some of the women that were there still speak of this evening with pleasure; and there was joy in the presence of the angels of God, that night, over more than one sinner that repented.

I have occasionally taken much pains to make the doctrines of religion somewhat clear to them. It might not in every case be so necessary; but in this neighbourhood, where the enemy is more than usually busy in “sowing tares,” it is of great importance that they should be enabled to give a reason for the hope that is in them.

The vicinity of Notting Hill has, unfortunately, been selected by the Roman Catholics as the scene of their most active operations. Whilst I write, I hear from my open window the sound of “busy workmen” employed on the rising walls of a nunnery of great size and importance. They have just purchased a piece of land in Pottery Lane, once the celebrated Cut-throat Lane, on which they intend building school-rooms. Only a few days ago, I was told that a poor woman had called, seeking relief. On finding she was a stranger to me, and being already overdone with similar cases, I sent a message by the servant, that I was truly sorry for her, but it was not then in my power to attend to her case. Her reply to the servant was, “Ah! the Roman Catholics is coming amongst us, and they’ll never stand by and see us poor people suffer, like you Protestants do.”