“The ‘Queen’ evidently represents the Hebrew Church, re-united by conversion in the fulness of time. The restoration of Israel to the situation of consort in the Messiah’s kingdom is the constant strain of prophecy; whole chapters might be quoted; but I think it will be an interesting employment to some of you to search for them yourselves. I will only remind you of that passage in the epistle to the Romans, where St. Paul says, that blindness is in part only happened to Israel, till the time shall arrive for the fulness of the Gentiles to come in; and then all Israel shall be saved.
“The Queen’s ‘vesture of gold’ denotes those real treasures, of which the church is the depository, the written word, and the dispensation of its gracious promises to mankind.
“‘Forget thine own people, and thy father’s house.’ This applies to the ancient Jewish religion, and its typical ceremonies and sacrifices, now no longer necessary. The remainder of the psalm alludes to the churches established under ‘the King’; to the simplicity and excellence of the Christian dispensation; and closes with an assurance that the children of the Queen Consort, that is, the church, after collecting the lost sheep of Israel, shall be, as their fathers were, God’s peculiar people.”
My uncle concluded by saying, that this beautiful psalm, which is written in such majestic language, and presents such cheering hopes to Christians, Jews, and Gentiles, has been a constant subject of discussion amongst our learned divines; and advised us to read with attention the excellent commentaries on it by Bishop Horne and Bishop Horsley.
26th.—This day is so calm and bright that it is not like winter; it almost brings to my mind some of our own days at home. Oh! mamma, if you were but here, all would be delightful.
We are all going to walk to Farmer Moreland’s, except Wentworth and Frederick, who are mounting their ponies to visit a friend just returned from Eton.
I am called—Yes, quite ready. Good day, dear mamma.
Well, mamma, evening has come, and I have but little to tell you about our Christmas visit to Farmer Moreland and his dame, which was happily accomplished; but a great deal to tell you about Wentworth and Frederick, and their adventures. When they had ridden about a mile, they were stopped by a little boy, who came running from a lane in the wood, crying piteously, “Mother, mother, oh! come to mother!” To all their questions he gave no other answer but “Come to mother; oh! do come, she is a dying.” The child was a very little creature, and seemed scarcely to know any other words.
My cousins, without hesitation, or any thought about their ride, determined to follow the child, who, though he could not say much, knew very well what to do. He led them along one of the green lanes a considerable distance into the wood, and there they found his poor mother lying, without any other shelter than that of a large spreading holly—without blanket or covering—her head resting on a little bundle, and looking deadly pale. The child ran towards her, and gently patting her face, cried, “Here, mother; look, look.”
As Wentworth approached, she opened her eyes, and seeing a benevolent countenance, smiled faintly. She tried to raise herself, but could not. In reply to his inquiries she made him understand that, having travelled two days with little rest or food, suffering much from grief, along with fatigue, she had grown so ill that she was obliged to stop there. Not seeing any cottage near, in which she could beg a lodging, and feeling totally unable to walk farther, she had lain there many hours, but had not seen any one pass, and fearing that the child would be starved, she had sent him in search of some kind-hearted person. She added that she was sure her illness was a fever; and as there was, therefore, little chance of her being admitted into any house, all she wished for was a shed to cover her, some water to drink, and some bread for her little boy.