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RELIGION IN EARNEST.

A MEMORIAL OF MRS. MARY LYTH, OF YORK.

BY HER SON JOHN LYTH.

1861.

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED SISTER ELIZA HILL, WHOSE RARE AND UNOSTENTATIOUS VIRTUES SHED FRAGRANCE ON EARTH, BUT ARE ONLY RECORDED IN HEAVEN.

PREFACE.

In compiling the following sheets, the Author has discharged what he felt to be an act, not merely of filial affection, but of Christian duty. To his deceased and venerated Mother he owes more than words can express;—a Mother whose consistent example, earnest piety and frequent effectual prayers, perhaps even more than her oft-repeated counsels, produced upon his mind, while yet a child, the settled conviction that religion is the one business of life. But be believes it also due to the cause of Christ, that an example of "Religion in Earnest," so pre-eminent, should not pass unrecorded and unimproved.

Those who think the charm of biography consists in startling incident; or who seek for material to gratify a literary taste, will discover here little to meet their respective views. We have only to offer them a simple record of one, whose history possessed no romantic interest, and who made no pretension to intellectual attainments. But such as love to trace the development of Divine grace in the human heart, and to see its power uniformly exemplified in the several phases of every-day life;—who are willing to learn how much may be accomplished by decision, simplicity of purpose, and undeviating consistency;—in a word, how every Christian even in private life, may become a centre of happiness, life and power, are in this volume presented with no common illustration.

The method of arrangement which the writer has adopted has been determined, partly by his materials, and partly by the desire to render his subject practical as well as interesting. How far he has succeeded must be decided by the impression made upon the mind of the reader. He now commends his work to God, who alone can give success to every good purpose, earnestly praying that Christ, who was magnified in the life of his now sainted mother, may be yet more abundantly magnified in her death.

J.L.

Stetten, O.A. Cannstatt, Württemberg.

December 27th, 1860.

CONTENTS.

CHAP.

I.—ANTECEDENTS

II.—EARLY DAWN

III.—GOLDEN OPPORTUNITIES

IV.—THE HOLY ESTATE

V.—SHOWER AND SUNSHINE

VI.—GROWTH IN GRACE

VII.—TEMPLE SERVICE

VIII.—PASSING CLOUDS

IX.—MID-DAY TOIL

X.—WORKS OF MERCY

XI.—A DYING SCENE

XII.—COUNTRY LIFE

XIII.—THE REDEMPTION OF THE PROMISE

XIV.—POWER WITH GOD

XV.—THE RETURN

XVI.—THE SACRIFICE

XVII.—THE MOTHER IN ISRAEL

XVIII.—LIGHT IN DARKNESS

XIX.—THE INWARD MONITOR

XX.—THE STORM

XXI.—THE WIDOW

XXII.—THE LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF EVENING

XXIII.—SLEEP IN JESUS

XXIV.—PLEASANT MEMORIES

I.

ANTECEDENTS.

"A GOOD MAN LEAVETH AN INHERITANCE TO HIS CHILDREN'S
CHILDREN." Prov. xiii. 22.

Within the grounds attached to the mansion of the Earl of Harewood, in the West Riding of Yorkshire, is a substantial and well-built farm house, furnished with suitable outbuildings, and surrounded by a fine cluster of fruit-trees. It stands on the side of a hill, which slopes gently down to the river Wharfe, and commands a prospect, which, though not extensive, is singularly picturesque. In front, a little to the right, the ruined fortress of Harewood peeps out of a scattered wood, which crowns the summit of the hill, and shelters one of the neatest and trimmest villages in England. On the left flows the beautiful Wharfe but soon loses itself among the adjacent heights. Behind, towers the logan of Arlmes cliff, an interesting relic of druidical skill and superstition; while Riffa wood and Ottley Shevin complete the beauty of the landscape. A row of trees, protected by a lofty wall, effectually conceals the house we have mentioned, from the highroad, which for some distance runs at the foot of the hill and almost parallel to the river. Formerly there was only a sandy lane, which passed immediately in front of the house, and winding up the hill, entered the village between the castle and the church. From this circumstance the adjoining farm was called Sandygate, but with the changes that have taken place, the appellation is now almost forgotten, although the house still retains the name of its original occupant, and is known in the neighbourhood as 'Stables House.'

Just a hundred years ago, this house was built for the accommodation of Wm. Stables, a wealthy yeoman, who resided at Heatherwick (now Stanke), about a mile from Harewood; and who, successful in the cultivation of his paternal acres, sought to extend his interests by renting the farm of Sandygate. His removal was however unpropitious to his domestic happiness; for entering the new house before it was fully fit for occupation, his wife, already in a delicate state of health, took cold and died; leaving him with four children, the eldest of whom was six years old, and the youngest but an infant. Mr. S. is said to have been a shrewd and sensible man, of strict morals and unbending integrity; but withal stern and inflexible in disposition, pharisaic, and a bigoted churchman. His punctuality in the performance of outward religious duties, and the regular payment of his dues, with now and then a fat sheep given to the poor, secured him among his neighbours the reputation of being a good Christian. As might be supposed, his children were trained with great severity, and educated in the straitest sect of their religion. Collect and catechism were duly committed to memory, prayers regularly read in the family, the Sabbath rigorously observed, a stiff and precise order reigned through the whole household; but it wanted the charm and life of spiritual feeling. As the children grew up to maturity, this state of things was destined to be changed by the introduction of a new and unwelcome element, which seriously disturbed the never too profound tranquillity of the old man. Mary, the youngest child, whose mind had gradually opened to the truth, although so defectively communicated, became deeply convinced of sin under the ministry of Mr. Jackson, the parish clergyman; and so painful and vivid were her views of her miserable condition, that she cried aloud for mercy in the church. Her father was deeply concerned for her, but, as he was ignorant of spiritual religion, he was utterly at a loss to understand her feelings. As a last resource he sent for the minister, but with no better result, for he too, frankly confessed that he did not understand the sorrow of which he had been the unwitting occasion. A specimen of this gentleman's ability to administer spiritual counsel and direction is recorded in the characteristic autobiography of Richard Burdsall. "Visiting Mr. Stables in his last illness Mr. Jackson asked him how he did. Mr. S. replied, 'Sir, I am a miserable sinner.' 'Do not say you are a miserable sinner,' replied the Reverend gentleman, 'for you are a good man.' Mr. S. answered, 'O, Mr. Jackson, I am a miserable sinner.' To this the parson replied, 'if you will be a miserable sinner you are like to be a miserable sinner,' and so came no more."

Mary was thus left to seek relief and comfort where she could; and having heard of the Methodists, who held a meeting every Sabbath in a house about a mile distant from Harewood, she secretly resolved to attend, if possibly, she might find the hidden peace, which she had hitherto sought in vain. Here she met with a few humble but sincere persons, who could sympathise with her state of mind; and from whom she received such instruction and encouragement, that, not long after while pleading with God in the secrecy of her chamber, she obtained 'redemption through the blood of Christ, even the forgiveness of sins.' Much to the chagrin of her father, she now became an avowed Methodist; and was subjected to the petty persecution, which usually awaits the first in a family that embraces vital godliness. On one occasion, her father locked her out of the house; and, on another, threatened to shoot her, but she remained firm to her profession; until at length, her consistent and steady deportment was rewarded by the conversion of her two brothers, John and William, and also of two of the servants. The increased displeasure of the old gentleman was signally exhibited. Afraid lest Elizabeth his eldest daughter should also become a Methodist, he resolved at once to free his house from all possibility of infection. The two servants were dismissed without ceremony; and the three delinquents banished to a farm, which he had purchased, at Kirkby Overblow, a few miles distant. These precautions were useless. The removal of her sister and brothers, together with the occasion of their banishment, so much affected Elizabeth, that in fact it contributed to the result it was intended to prevent. So foolish and vain are the thoughts of men when they attempt to arrest the operations of the Spirit of God. Isolated and freed from control, the young converts were now left to obey the dictates of conscience without further opposition. In their new home they were thrown more directly in contact with the Methodists, and especially formed acquaintance with Richard Burdsall, with whose class they at once connected themselves.

Richard Burdsall was one of those bold and distinctive characters, whose sterling piety and ardent zeal shining forth from under a rude exterior, gave such peculiar lustre to the age of early Methodism; and indicated an agency, specially raised by God, to break up the fallow ground and clear away the thorns, that the incorruptible seed of truth might find a soil congenial to its germination and growth. His conversion, which occurred at the age of twenty, was accompanied by indubitable proofs of its reality; and instantly followed up by entire consecration to God. The path of usefulness soon opened out before him; and in spite of 'fightings without and fears within,' he pursued it with undeviating integrity to the close of a protracted life. His shrewdness and originality of thought, quaint and pointed method of expression, combined with such an intimate acquaintance with the word of God, that some said he had the scriptures at his fingers' ends, and others nicknamed him 'old chapter and verse;' and above all, his known integrity and uncompromising zeal for the glory of God, amply compensated for the want of cultivation, and rendered him as a lay preacher so exceedingly popular and useful, that he was repeatedly solicited to enter a higher sphere, and devote himself to the work of the ministry. He was twice appointed by Mr. Wesley to the York circuit, in which he was resident; and in six different instances, invited to take charge of independent congregations; but, although he so far yielded to the request of the former as to make the experiment for nine months, he voluntarily retired, under the conviction that he was called to occupy an humbler but not less useful sphere. His labours, which were extended over a considerable part of Yorkshire and Lincolnshire, were blessed by God to the salvation of thousands. By day toiling at the vice or the anvil, and by night preaching the glad tidings of the Gospel, his life was spent,

"'Twixt the mount and multitude
Doing and receiving good"

until, within a fortnight of his death, at the advanced age of eighty-eight, he delivered his last discourse, and died shouting "Victory, Victory," through the blood of the Lamb.

At the period of oar narrative Mr. B. resided at Kearby, about a mile from the Kirkby farm, where he soon became a frequent and welcome visitor; and by his counsels and example, contributed much to confirm the faith and piety of its inmates. The two brothers became useful local preachers, and remained faithful unto death; and with Mary commenced an intimacy, which, notwithstanding considerable difference of age and circumstances, was ultimately consummated in marriage. The story of the courtship is amusing and characteristic. Mary was fair to look upon, and having moreover the prospect of a handsome fortune, commanded many admirers. One day when several of these aspirants for her hand were present, Mr. B. stepped in, and, perceiving how matters were going, quietly slipped behind her and whispered, 'I mean to have thee myself'. This abrupt avowal had the desired effect. The blooming damsel preferred the widower with four children, though twice her own age, to younger but not more worthy suitors; a decision she never had occasion to regret.

The engagement thus strangely brought to a crisis, was not entered into without much serious forethought and prayer. The path of Providence was distinctly indicated, and there remained but one obstacle in the way of the proposed union, and that was to secure the consent of Mr. Stables; which, to quote Mr. Burdsall's own words, "'to me appeared like asking him for his life'. I was however providentially helped out of this difficulty; for as I was returning from preaching one morning, I met him in a narrow lane at some distance from his own house. When he saw me, he turned round as though he would not meet me. The lane being strait, he took hold of my mare and said, 'What are you a riding preacher now'? I answered, 'To be sure I am, for you see I am upon my mare'. He then said, 'Are my sons right, think you, when they can go to a public house and drink with people and pay nothing'? I replied, 'You are not to give credit to what the world says of us Methodists, or of your sons. I believe your sons fear the Lord, and are wishful to do what is right'. He said, 'Well, he that endureth to the end the same shall be saved'. I replied, 'That is God's word, but it will not suit every one'. He then wished to know whom it would not suit. I answered, 'It will not suit the unregenerate, for were I to tell sinners, that if they endured to the end in their sins they should be saved, I should lie; for they cannot be saved if they do: neither will it suit the self-righteous, for the word of God says, 'Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of the scribes and pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven'. What I said, seemed to carry conviction to his mind. He said, 'They say you are a good preacher, I shall come and hear you'. 'I should be glad to see you', replied I, 'but I fear your master will not let you come'. We then proceeded towards his house in friendly conversation, and when we were just going to part he said, 'They say you are going to marry my daughter.' I answered, 'I doubt they grieve you with, it.' He said, 'Nay, not at all, for my daughter shall marry whom she likes.' 'You speak very honourably,' said I, 'if you only stand to your word.' To this he replied, 'I will, she shall marry whom she likes.' I said to him, 'I will make you this promise, that I will not marry your daughter for the sake of her fortune, for I do not believe you will give me any with her. If I can be assured that it is of the Lord, I will marry her though you turn her into the street destitute; and, without this persuasion, I would not marry her though you were to give her your whole estate to do so: therefore do not blame me.' He said, 'I cannot,' and we parted." Notwithstanding this plain conversation, Mr. Stables was highly displeased with the match, and offered to give his daughter an additional portion on condition that she would not prosecute it; adding, "If you do, I'll give you sixpence a-week, and you may go about singing Methodist songs."

On their marriage, which took place shortly after, Mr. and Mrs. Burdsall removed to York. The offended father, true to his word, sent his daughter forth literally destitute; not even permitting her to take her personal apparel. It was not until twelve months had elapsed, that any further communication took place. The interview is thus related by Mr. Burdsall in his own quaint style. "I happened to be passing near his house as he was going from it; on my calling to him, he asked what I wanted with him. I said, 'I want to know what place you mean me to have in heaven?' He smiled, and asked, 'Do you mean to go there?' 'I hope so,' said I. He then asked me why I had married his daughter. I told him, because I loved her and thought she would make me a good wife. I added, 'You know, sir, that I told you before I married her, that I would not marry her for the sake of her fortune; neither have I, I do not expect any, the Lord blesses us without any, and he will still continue to bless us.' He acknowledged the truth of what I said, and we parted." The fire of wrath was still smouldering in the heart of the old man, and awakened in the mind of Mrs. Burdsall feelings of painful anxiety, especially, as it was apparent, that life was ebbing fast to its close. Mr. B. therefore, a short time after, addressed a kind but faithful letter to him on the great subject of salvation, and concluded with these remarkable and expressive words, "I have no other reason for writing to you, that I know of, than this, that the sun is going down." This produced no immediate effect, only, whenever they met, Mr. Stables would say, "You write parables to me." The allusion however so appositely and wisely put, like an arrow directed to the mark, had fastened upon his conscience, and was secretly undermining the strength of long and obstinately-cherished resentment. The marksman was skilful, but still better, a man of "fervent effectual prayer." "As a Prince he had power with God and with men, and prevailed," for "when a man's ways please the Lord He maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him." So it turned out. Mr. Burdsall says, "One time, as I was returning home from preaching at a distant place in a very wet cold and hungry state, and as night was coming on, having to pass his residence, I thought I would call and see if he would receive me. I knocked at the door, and he himself opened it. Seeing me he called his eldest daughter and said, 'Here is thy brother, come and take his horse.' I alighted and went in. He then accosted me as he had done once before, asking, 'What are you a riding preacher now?' I answered, 'To be sure I am; for I have ridden from York to Seacroft, and from thence to your house.' 'Well,' said he, 'I know you live well.' I replied, 'We do; but I have not lived so well to day as I might have done; for I feel rather hungry.' He smiled, and bid his daughter put on the tea kettle. We then entered into conversation, in which he said, 'You write parables to me, for you told me the sun was going down.' I answered, 'I did so, and my reason for it was, I knew I had stirred up your wrath in marrying your daughter against your mind, and was fearful lest the sun should go down upon it.' He burst into a flood of tears, and was so melted down, that for three hours, I was prompted both by his feelings and my own to speak of the love of Christ to poor sinners. * * * This was a night to be remembered as my reconciliation with Mr. Stables was at this time effected." The understanding thus happily brought about was never after interrupted; and Mr. Stables practically evinced the sincerity of his feelings by securing to his daughter an annuity for life. In his last illness, which occurred a few years later, Mr. Burdsall, by his own request, frequently visited him, and ministered to his spiritual wants. He died in peace on the 13th of June, 1787.

The first fruits of the union of Richard Burdsall and Mary Stables, was Mary, the subject of the present memoir—the step-sister of the Rev. John Burdsall, who still survives. She was born at York, without Bootham bar, June 19th, 1782. The house which no longer exists, stood just under the shadow of the old gateway, nearly opposite the modern crescent, known as St. Leonard's Place.

The foregoing facts, which to some may appear superfluous, are here introduced not merely with the view of making the reader acquainted with the antecedents of my honoured mother; but the much higher object of illustrating the sovereign mercy of God, and tracing the growth of the religious element in the family. Many a page deeply interesting and instructive might be written which would unfold the grace of God in the history of particular families, flowing as a stream of light from generation to generation, or diffusing itself in the collateral branches; here swelling as "broad rivers and streams," and there narrowed down to a single channel. The causes of such alternations might be profitably investigated, and recorded. The inquiry into one's ancestry would thus answer a nobler purpose than the gratification of human vanity, or the recovery of an alienated inheritance; it would exhibit the influence of the past upon the present, afford important lessons of encouragement or admonition, and discover our claim perhaps, to something better than gold or silver "for the good man" even though he is poor, "leaveth an inheritance to his children's children." How far the moral character as well as the physical constitution of a parent may affect the happiness and control the destiny of his children, is a question, which may be incapable of an exact and satisfactory solution; but the general fact, notwithstanding some strange exceptions, (which however may not be altogether incapable of explanation,) is sufficiently established, that examples of singular excellence, or notorious profligacy may usually he traced to seeds sown in a former generation. They are not therefore to be altogether regarded in the light of isolated phenomena, but as the result of causes, which may be more or less accurately determined. At all events, God reveals himself as "a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate him, and SHEWING MERCY UNTO THOUSANDS OF THEM THAT LOVE HIM AND KEEP HIS COMMANDMENTS."

II.

EARLY DAWN.

"THOU HAST HID THESE THINGS FROM THE WISE AND PRUDENT
AND HAST REVEALED THEM UNTO BABES." Matt. xi. 25.

What solemn interest surrounds the dawn of immortal existence,—that precious portion of human life, the first four or five years, which may be termed the perceptive period, too often treated as a mere blank, in which nothing is to be attempted; when the soul is all eye, all ear, continually storing up in an almost faultless memory, impressions, which go far to mould the future character, and which reason, so soon as it is able, will certainly use as part of the material out of which it must form its conclusions! How much of the future depends upon the kind of influence to which the infant mind is subjected! Happily for Mary Burdsall these early years were carefully watched and guarded. The bold and uncompromising character of her father, and the gentle piety of her mother, secured to her a combination of influences particularly favourable to the development of moral and religious feeling. Lessons of truth and love, as yet beyond the comprehension of the child, were effectively taught by means of bright and living examples; and hence grace began to operate with the first unfoldings of reason.

Her earliest recollections were associated with the farm at Sandygate. When about four years old, her grandfather Stables, now reconciled to his daughter, proposed to undertake the charge of Mary's training and education. This arrangement was overruled, providentially as it would seem; for Mr. S., although strictly moral and religious in his way, was a stranger to experimental godliness, and only obtained the knowledge of the truth in his last moments. The occasion of her return to her parents was probably his increasing age and infirmity, as the only impression she retained of him in after life was that of a somewhat crusty and ill-tempered old man, with a huge bobwig, who always laid in bed. His last words to her, which were vividly impressed upon her mind, were, that it was a pity she should go home to be spoiled by Methodism. The few months she spent at Sandygate were not however without some good and permanent result. Her aunt Elizabeth, who was scripturally enlightened, and in a great measure free from other engagements, solicitously occupied herself in endeavouring to impress her tender heart with divine truth. From her lips she learned to lisp the Lord's prayer, the Apostles' creed, several of Watts' divine songs, and in particular the hymn commencing

"How vain are all things here below."

With reference to this period she says in her journal:—"The spirit of God strove with me when but a little child. One time, I remember, while repeating my prayers to my aunt, the grace of God shone so sweetly upon me, I was melted down into tenderness before the Lord; and it seemed as if the glory of the Lord shone round about me, while I repeated the well-known hymn

'Glory to Thee, my God, this night.'

At another time, the Spirit of prayer was so poured upon me my sleep for a season fled. Thus the Lord brooded upon my infant mind. Glory be to his adorable name!"

Shortly after her return to York she heard the venerable founder of Methodism preach in Peaseholm Green Chapel; and though at that early age incompetent to retain any recollection of the sermon, his saintly appearance made on her imagination a vivid impression, which was perpetuated through life, and often mentioned in the family circle with the liveliest feelings of pleasure. On this occasion, the last on which he preached in York, Mr. Wesley appears to have been in one of his happiest moods, as he remarks in his journal, "The word was as fire, and all that heard it seemed to feel the power thereof;" a circumstance which no doubt greatly contributed to fix the memory of his features upon the mind of a child so young. And still more so, as the venerable man, on descending from the pulpit, placed his hand upon her head, and gave her his blessing. The Rev. J. Burdsall, who was also present, once communicated to the writer an amusing and interesting incident, that happened in course of the service, which illustrates Mr. Wesley's love of harmony, even when, he had lost the power to create it. It is well known that he delighted to hear the men and women each take their proper part in congregational singing; but it seems in this instance, the men in the warmth of their feelings had transgressed the limits assigned them. Mr. W., whose ear was offended by the slightest discord, somewhat sharply rebuked them. As this failed to produce the desired amendment, he stopped again, and said, "Listen to brother Masterman," who was at that time the leading singer. Still dissatisfied, he stopped a third time, and said, "Listen to me," at the same time taking up the strain, but as his voice was cracked, and broken with age, it afforded such a miserable example as to excite a general titter.

As a child Mary was distinguished by unusual vivacity of disposition, and her fondness for fun and frolic often betrayed her into trouble. At times she was wilful and passionate,—a spirit wisely checked by her mother, whose discipline was equally strict and judicious. Such ebullitions were transient, and invariably followed by feelings of regret and sorrow. Adverting to this subject in after life she said with deep gratitude, "I had a good mother and father to keep me in, and restraining grace." On several occasions her life was placed in imminent peril, and, but for that merciful providence, which specially watches over the "little ones," she must have fallen a victim to her thoughtlessness. One of these occurred when she was at school; where, by some means her dress caught fire; happily the smoke and smell of burning attracted the attention of her teacher who rushed to her rescue, and succeeded in extinguishing the flames, but not until her outer garments were completely consumed. Her education was very slender, being confined to the simplest rudiments of human knowledge,—a circumstance she often regretted, although in after life the disadvantage was in a great measure overcome by diligent and select reading.

When about eight years of age, the development of her early religious feelings received a partial check through the pernicious influence of a servant girl, who perceiving her love for singing, taught her, without the knowledge of her parents, a number of foolish songs. Two years later she gave decided indications of serious thought. She began to take pleasure in being alone, and acquired a remarkable love of solitude, which characterized her through life,—a feeling which was strengthened by reading an article in one of the early "Arminian Magazines." Sometimes she would steal off to the cottage of a pious old churchwoman of the name of Halifax, who lived at a short distance from her father's house; and listened with delight, while the good old lady read to her out of the Psalms, and talked about heavenly things. On one of these occasions she was so deeply affected by a sense of her sinfulness and accountability, that pointing to the cat which lay by the fireside, she exclaimed, "I wish I was that cat;" and when asked why, replied, "Because it has not a soul to save." The old lady gently rebuked the foolish thought, and, shewing her its wickedness, endeavoured to lead her to Him, who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto me." Not long after she began to meet in her father's class, and received her first ticket at the hands of the Rev. Francis Wrigley, at that time Superintendent of the York circuit. By weekly intercourse with the people of God, her aspirations after divine sources of happiness gradually strengthened until she was twelve years old, when they assumed a more definite form; although, in consequence of her tender age, her views of evangelical truth were necessarily crude and defective; for she still "spake as a child, understood as a child, reasoned as a child," It was during a few days' visit to her aunt Elizabeth, who now resided in the suburbs of York, having married Mr. J. Hawkins of that city shortly after her father's death, that she became so unhappy on account of her sinful and miserable condition, that she could not refrain from much weeping. The thought of entering eternity without a change of heart filled her with alarm. Every looming cloud had a voice which spoke of the judgment to come; every unpropitious event awakened painful forebodings. Her fears, which were the genuine fruits of divine influence, were further aggravated by the popular excitement of the times. France was threatening war with England, and the prevailing apprehensions of the multitude communicated themselves with double force to the heart of the sorrowing child. "What," thought she, "if they should come now, and I should be killed in my sins." Indeed her trouble increased to such a degree that her aunt was grieved, imagining that her mother would think she had been unkindly treated. She therefore resolved to take her home. On the way a number of circumstances occurred which to Mary's childish imagination were pregnant with evil, and prognosticated nothing less than the day of general doom. The city was in a state of unusual commotion, a report had gained ground that the invader was at hand, some foolish person had caused the massive portcullis of the city gate to be let down, several recruiting parties were parading the streets, two of these she met, and the shrill blasts of a few mounted trumpeters, together with a dense and portentous cloud, which just at the moment spread itself upon the horizon, completed her dismay. She reached home in tears. Her mother, whose solicitude was awakened, inquired the cause. She replied, "Mother, I can't tell you, but nothing in this world will make me happy." Suspecting the real state of her feelings, her mother conversed kindly with her, and administered suitable consolation, but in vain. After committing herself to God in earnest prayer, she retired to rest with the conviction, that she was the greatest sinner in the world; but the next morning, which was the holy Sabbath, broke upon her with healing in its wings. She awoke with the words in her mind,

"What a blessing to know that my Jesus is mine."

Her soul was immediately filled with a calm sweet joy, which she was unable to describe. She arose from her bed, and went to the house of God, her heart still glowing with these newly awakened emotions; and while on her way thought within herself, "O that I had a voice that would reach to all the world, I would tell them how happy I am." This occurred on the 12th of February, 1795. But the transport of her feelings, after enduring for a season, at length subsided; yet not without leaving a permanent though perhaps not easily defined impression. It may be asked was this conversion? was it genuine? and in a child so young? We answer it would be very difficult to prove that it was not. One thing is certain, that from this time there was a settled purpose to serve the Lord, which spite of fluctuating feeling and periods of wintry coldness was steadily kept in view; ever and anon gathering strength until it ripened into maturity. The sapling, because it bends to the breeze is not therefore destitute of life; unless it be torn up by the roots, or scorched and withered by the noon-day sun, or absolutely frozen by the winter's cold, it will gradually wax and grow until its massive trunk is able to bid defiance to the storm. Conversing on this subject with one of her children at a late period in life, when her judgment was matured, and her views of divine truth rendered more clear by her approximation to a better world, she said, "I lost my peace because I grieved the Lord by a trifling disposition, but the Lord did not leave me;" then, employing the language of the lamented David Stoner, she added, "I have been converted a hundred times." To another of her children, after using similar language she said with peculiar, emphasis, "I have been aiming to please God all my life, I can say that." Her conviction was that the work was real, but that at the time, she did not understand the nature of it; and hence from causes clearly ascertainable, it was as in many similar cases, soon overshadowed by circumstances of doubt. The truth is, children are just as capable of experiencing the grace of God as persons of riper years; but they are not capable of defining their feelings, or of understanding the great doctrines of salvation,—and for this very reason, they are more liable to be subjected to fluctuations both of feeling and purpose. It would be well if some older people, who do not take the pains to obtain a clear and intelligent view of the religion they profess, were not equally unstable and from the same cause; if there was no occasion for the apostolic admonition, "Be not children in understanding; howbeit in malice be ye children, but in understanding be men." The feelings of children, when employed about the great subjects of religion and eternity, are not lightly to be discouraged, even when mixed up with much that a maturer judgment must condemn; they should be fostered with solicitous care. The tender plant requires gentle culture; touch it not too rudely lest you check its development; watch it carefully; support its weak and fragile stem; tenderly remove what is injurious; and give it plenty of scope, that it may put forth its young fresh leaves; and it will bloom by and by with all the richer fragrance and beauty. "Forbid them not," cries the Saviour. Let them come with their first fruits, and lay the offering of their childhood unsullied by unholy communion with the world at the Master's feet. Let them come with their cherry lips, and sparkling eyes, and loving hearts. Let them come before age has curdled their blood, and the pleasures of life have blunted the keenness of their susceptibilities. Let them come, let them come. The Saviour welcomes their approach. The fragrance of the sacrifice they bring is precious in his sight, and while he folds the little ones in his arms, he lifts his eyes to heaven, and "rejoicing in spirit, says, I thank thee O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes, even so Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight."

Providentially Mary Burdsall was under judicious direction, and retained her religious purpose although she lost the sweetness of her enjoyment. Her experience assumed that unsettled phase which often characterises the earlier stages of youthful piety. Now miserable from a consciousness of having grieved the Spirit of God, and again hopeful, confident, and happy. Sometimes she was driven even to despair, and admitted the thought that the day of grace was past for ever. One day while in this state of feeling she overheard her father conversing with a friend on the awful case of Francis Spira,[Footnote: "Francis Spira an advocate of Padua, Ann. 1545, that being desperate, by no counsell of learned men could be comforted; he felt, as he said, the pains of hell in his soule, in all other things he discoursed aright; but in this most mad. Frismelica, Bullovat, and some other excellent physicians, could neither make him eat, drink or sleep; no persuasion could ease him. Never pleaded any man so well for himself, as this man did against himself; and so he desperately died. Springer, a lawyer, hath written his life."—Burton's Anatomy of Melancholie.] her mind was filled with great horror, and she was constrained to seek refuge in prayer. While she was pleading with God the words were applied, "Turn ye at my reproof," and the snare was broken. During this period of mental conflict she steadfastly maintained her connexion with the church; and thus escaped that total loss of spiritual feeling, into which many, in similar circumstances, plunge themselves by withdrawing from the circle of religious influence. Her exceeding volatility of temper, which was the cause of her instability, often occasioned her bitter reflections; and as it was a source of trouble to herself, excited the anxiety of her mother, who frequently said to her, "There's a wide world will tame thee." Her own words in reference to this stage of her history were, "They never turned me out of class, but from my thoughtlessness and giddiness, I am sure, I was not a proper Methodist." Still the struggle between grace and nature was secretly going on; and every new proof of her own weakness but contributed to strengthen and establish her resolves.

About this time she became acquainted with Miss Barrett, afterwards Mrs. Zech. Taft, from whose counsels and example she derived much advantage. Her first introduction to this excellent woman occurred while on a visit to her uncle Mr. Wm. Stables, who had succeeded to his father's farm at Sandygate. It seems her uncle and aunt were invited to meet Miss B. at a social party at Harewood, but being otherwise engaged, it was agreed that Mary should go in their stead, accompanied by her aunt's sister. As she left the house her uncle said, "I hope they'll convert thee." On arriving at the place where the party was assembled she found a room full of strangers, and among them Miss B., to whom she was specially introduced as Richard Burdsall's daughter.

This secured her a kind and hearty reception. After tea followed a Prayer-meeting in which petitions were particularly offered on her behalf. Her pride was wounded and she thought within herself, "If they would but pray for themselves it would be all very well;" but notwithstanding this revulsion of feeling the impression made by this interview was not only salutary, but indelible. She felt and wept much, and from this time gave herself more diligently to the study of the word of God and prayer. Subsequently she had many opportunities of meeting with Miss B. in York, and the spiritual benefit which she derived from these interviews led to a permanent friendship.

III.

GOLDEN OPPORTUNITIES.

"IN THE MORNING SOW THY SEED." Eccles. xi. 6.

Have you ever witnessed a glorious sunrise? Have you ever seen the orb of day go forth as a bridegroom to run his race, arrayed in robes of crimson, and purple, and gold? Then nature has taught you the lesson that early opportunities are the brightest and best. Golden are the early hours of morning, when the mind is most vigorous, and the powers of nature, refreshed by sleep, are in full play. Golden too are the days of early youth, before the heart is saddened by vanity, and the spirit pressed down by the accumulating cares and responsibilities of life. Let them be diligently improved, and they cannot fail to bring a rich and profitable return. Therefore "in the morning sow thy seed."

Mary Burdsall was not indifferent to these opportunities. In the beginning of life she formed the habit of early rising. She rose with the lark and sang as merrily. She cultivated a taste for reading and reflection; and although the natural vivacity of her disposition was a constant snare in her path, she never lost sight of the purpose she had formed of living for God. In secret she communed with her own heart, and, the better to secure her growth in grace, commenced a diary, which, with two or three short intermissions, occasioned by sickness, was continued until within a week of her death. Unfortunately a considerable portion of these manuscripts, including a period of several years just preceding and following her marriage, were destroyed by her own hands. What remains, is however no small proof of her diligence and perseverance, as they extend to twenty quarto volumes containing about 5,000 pages. They contain, besides the record of her inner and outer life, copious summaries of the discourses she heard; numerous extracts from books, especially of passages calculated to impress the heart or direct the life; and an extraordinary amount of original verse; for from the first she appears to have adopted the practice of putting her thoughts into rhyme,—a practice which when unaccompanied by true genius is generally a profitless waste of time; but which in her case was made a valuable means of personal edification, as well as of administering counsel, consolation or admonition to others. Few events of public or private interest, in her own family or in the circle of her acquaintance, could pass without provoking her ready pen. Subjects poetical and unpoetical were alike constrained into measured lines; which, if not always remarkable for rhythm, were at least rich in evangelical sentiment, and pervaded by deep spirituality of thought. Some of these productions are inserted in this volume, in the order in which they occur in her diary, not because they possess any literary merit, but as eminently characteristic of her habits of thought and feeling. In fact they are transcripts of her own heart, and she seems often to have preferred this method of expressing her fervid emotions to the use of cooler prose.

A few examples of the entries made when she was fifteen will suffice to show what were the aspirations of her early youth:—

"This is the last day of 1797. O may I this day put off the works of darkness, and put on the armour of light: and begin a new life with a new year,—Lord, help me this day to live to Thee. Let Thy love be shed abroad in my heart. Inspire the spirit of prayer. Let my few days be spent in praising Thee, the Giver of all good gifts. Loose my heart from every earthly object, and let my affections be set upon Thee and things above. Lord, pardon my coldness, and help me in future to double my diligence to make my calling and election sure.—During service my mind was very much troubled; but glory be to God, He gave me, in a measure, a praying spirit; and I trust He will answer His own. Spirit's prayer. Lord, speak the answer to my heart now.—Went with Miss Barrett to the Poor-house. She exhorted from, 'I believe in the communion of saints, and in the forgiveness of sins.' After that I went with her to the select band; she then came home, and slept with me. The Lord blessed my soul in her company.—My mind is troubled; but do Thou, who in every temptation makest a way for Thy people to escape, deliver my soul out of prison, that I may praise Thee.—I went with Miss B. to see some sick people. One man was mourning for redemption in the blood of the Lamb; but, before we came away, he rejoiced in the God of his salvation.—Lord, keep me from the vanity of this alluring world. May I love Thee supremely. The Lord blesses my soul greatly. Blessed be His name, He reproves me; may I take the reproof.—A gleam of love was let into my soul at the meeting; but after, I felt very dull and stupid.—I think I am willing to be any thing, or nothing, only give me to feel Thy love in my heart. Do, Jesus, increase my faith, but let it be now. Help me, I pray Thee, to live as in Thy sight all the day long.—Called to see Ann F. We went up-stairs and prayed together.—I have had more of the presence of God the last few days. The Lord be praised. I want to have my evidence made very clear. O shine on my soul, and make the darkness light before me; that I may greatly triumph in the God of my salvation.—I heard Mr. Simeon at Belfrey Church; it was a gracious time of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.—Miss Barrett spoke at Clifton. The power of the Lord was evidently felt. As it was a very wet night we went into a barn, but it filled so fast, we returned into the open air. Miss B. prayed that God would stop the bottles of heaven for a few minutes; and, glory be to His name, He answered her request. The Prayer-meeting continued some time, and several souls were brought into liberty.—I gave way to a light spirit, which has done me much hurt.—Lord, pardon me for giving way to lightness of spirit; help me in future to redeem the time, and to take due care to prepare myself for the great day.—O, Jesus, rouse me from my sins, and give me to wake up after Thy likeness. Do fill me with Thy love. Let it flow into my poor disconsolate soul, that I may serve Thee with all my ransomed powers.—O let not my heart be set on the creature more than Thee; but let me give myself to Thee without reserve. I go to school; Lord, help me to learn the lessons of Thy grace as well as arithmetic. Drive this dulness, both of body and soul away; that I may learn with speed and delight.—Thou knowest, Lord, that I have not lived adorning my profession; let the time past suffice, and let me begin to glorify Thy name. Lord, save me from flattery, for Christ's sake. Amen.—January, 1799. Began to meet in band with Sarah B. O Lord, give us one spirit with Thyself. I want, O Lord, to love Thee supremely above all beside; give me, I pray Thee, the victory over myself."

These extracts bear, no doubt, the impress of childish thought; yet they indicate that she had already formed large views of the nature of inward religion. In her estimation it was a blessed reality of which she might have a "clear evidence," and which could only reach its perfection in the "likeness of God." Its principle was love, controlling the most secret motions of the heart, and regulating the minutest details of daily practice. This religion she proposed to herself as the purpose of life. For this she earnestly prayed, and to help her resolutions, she sought and cultivated the society of such as were excellent in the earth. The select character of the associations she formed was, perhaps, one main cause which contributed to her after proficiency. She once mentioned to the writer, as a matter of profound gratitude to God, that she had always mingled among religious people, and only remembered one week in her whole life which had been spent among persons not professing godliness. She lived and breathed in the pure atmosphere of prayer and love, where the Holy Spirit loves to dwell, until she became one spirit with Him.

The chosen companions of her youth were such as already enjoyed, or like herself were seeking, the experience of divine truth. Among other early acquaintance was Miss Nodes of Skelton Hall, afterwards the wife of the Rev. Dr. Newton. This lady had recently become a Methodist, and burning with all the fervour of first love frequently came to Mr. Burdsall for counsel and encouragement: Her first interview with Mr. Newton occurred at Mr. Burdsall's house in the following manner. During the sittings of the District-meeting, Mr. B. had invited the Revds. Messrs. Needham and Newton, with some others, to dinner; and sent an invitation to Miss Nodes to come and join them: to this Mrs. Nodes objected; but promised to call the next day and apologize. She did so in company with her daughter, just as the party were about to kneel down to prayer, and they were consequently invited in. After prayer a hymn was proposed, which was sung by Mr. Newton and Miss Burdsall, who had a clear and melodious voice of considerable compass. Miss Nodes then remarked, that at Skelton they had to live by begging, as they only had preaching occasionally; and if one of them would go over and give them a sermon, it would be a great charity. Mr. N. immediately promised to accompany Mr. Burdsall the following day; and from that time commenced an acquaintance which resulted in their union.

In many cases, and very commonly in the case of young persons, who have been religiously trained, the process by which the mind reaches the assurance of faith is very slow. "The going forth" of the Spirit "is prepared as the morning." The first streaks of dawn bring a degree of comfort, for there is promise of day; but the clear and unclouded light of the Divine favour is yet distant. The doubtful twilight, however, continues to expand and brighten, until at length the sun peeps above the distant hills, or bursts through the morning cloud, and all uncertainty is banished in a moment. It was thus with Mary Burdsall. Two years later we find her still seeking the indubitable witness of the Spirit. The work of grace was slow and deep. She writes:—

"Father met our class; when he spoke to me I could not forbear weeping. O that I could weep my sins away. J.T. and B.M. prayed and mentioned me by name. This touched my pride. Oh! for simplicity!—In the forenoon I went to Pavement church to hear dear Mr. Emmington. His text was, 'Sirs, what must I do to be saved?'—A searching discourse. O Lord, revive Thy work in my soul; probe me to the bottom.—I feel a very hard heart; but, Lord, a touch, a look from Thee, can break my heart of stone. O melt me into love.—Alas for me! I seem quite barren, but is there not a cause? Yes. Lightness of spirit, love of the creature, pride, and dislike, are sins that so easily beset me. I am overcome by them. But, O God, Thou hast all power, now resume Thy right. Let the powers of hell no more prevail.—In the class father asked me, if I ever went to pray; I answered in the affirmative; but, Lord, Thou knowest I am not so much in earnest as I was some weeks ago.—Father called upon me to pray; I did not refuse, but have since been tempted to believe I should be a greater hypocrite. Lord, make me a Christian indeed in whom there is no guile.—Lord give me to enjoy the reality of Christianity, I want to be thine. God help me to give up my own will. Bless him whom I have given up with a very great growth in grace."

[This entry refers to an attachment which met with the disapproval of her parents and was relinquished in the spirit of filial obedience.]

"Just before tea, Mr. Spence asked me if my heart was right; I could not forbear weeping. 'God be merciful to me a sinner.' What an enemy is a light and trifling spirit!—I was grieved because I had disobliged my mother. O for a meek and quiet spirit."

The particulars of the next two or three years are only to be gathered from a few scanty notes attached to a small pocket Bible, in which she had carefully noted the sermons she heard with the impressions made on her own mind. The greater part of these are written in short-hand, and consequently useless. But such as are intelligible prove that she was in the habit of weighing the words of the preacher and applying them to her own heart. Some expressions seem to indicate that the clouds which had so long overshadowed her spirit were beginning to disperse and give place to a serene and sunny sky. We quote a few examples.

"Oh! how happy was I!—I did not hear to profit, I was troubled in mind. I felt it.—I long to find my all in God.—I felt the love of Jesus precious.—I am answered.—Blessed, heart searching doctrine!—A telling sermon but I was unmoved; how hard am I.—He like some of his brethren harps at the gown and cassock.—I felt much softened.—Memorable!—Alas! I profit little by all I hear; surely it is because my faith is small. Ah. me! how long? how long?—A precious discourse to me. He preached my experience.—The solution of the text was a gratification, while I heard profitably. He made a very droll remark when describing those 'who make their belly their God;' he said 'they make their kitchen their temple, their cook and butcher their priests, and their belly their God.'—I felt my soul blessed and encouraged while hearing of sin being destroyed, with an earnest longing for its accomplishment. I felt the burden of indwelling sin very heavy; O when shall the happy period commence that God shall be all in all.—I staid the communion for the first time; how solemn! I was humbled and melted down exceedingly.—O how infinitely short I fall of walking with God! The love-feast was immediately after; the master of the feast was there: I felt his presence and spoke.—Mr. Sutcliffe's farewell sermon; may the Lord bless and reward his labours in this place."

The most important memorandum is a collection of rules for the regulation of her own conduct, adopted about the year 1805; and these, we do not hesitate to add, were written not merely with pen and ink, but impressed by the Spirit of God upon her memory and heart, for those who knew her will be able to recognize in them the key of her after life. They are as follow:—

"1. Let me rise early.

2. Never let me trifle with a book with which I have no present concern; in applying myself to any book, let me endeavour to recollect what I may learn by it, and then beg suitable assistance from God.

3. Never let me lose one minute of time, nor incur any unnecessary expense, that I may have the more to spend for God. When I am abroad let me be desirous of doing good; let me have in readiness some subject of contemplation and endeavour to improve my time as I go along.

4. Let me endeavour to render myself agreeable and useful to all around me; by a tender compassionate friendly behaviour; avoiding all trifling and impertinent stories; remembering that imprudence is sin.

5. Never let me delay anything, unless I can prove that another time will be more fit than the present; or that some more important duty requires my immediate attention.

6. O may I never enter into any long schemes about future events, but in general refer myself to God's care.

Direct me virtue's happy course to run,
And let me be instructed by thy Son,
In every station say "thy will be done."

7. O that I may be delivered from the least inclination to judge my neighbours; and that henceforth I may find fault with none so much as myself."

To these are added several extracts from the general rules of the Methodist Societies; particularly those which refer to the use of time, the government of the tongue, reading the Scriptures, private prayer, and abstinence.

The standard of Christian character at which she aimed was high; and perhaps this very circumstance contributed to delay the happy experience she sought. She looked at herself instead of looking directly to Christ. She contrasted her own deficiencies with the exact obedience required by a perfect law, instead of simply casting herself upon the blood which justifieth not the righteous but the sinner, which believeth in Jesus. The simplicity of salvation by faith was long overlooked, but at last the snare was broken; and about the close of the year 1805 she obtained the deliverance she so earnestly desired. We here quote her own words.

"While alone at Mrs. T.'s, the Lord was graciously pleased to visit me with a manifestation of his love; increasing my faith, and applying these words with power to my mind; 'The word is nigh thee, even in thy mouth and in thy heart.' I had such a view of the willingness of Christ to save by faith as I never had before. Notwithstanding, I think, if I had been better acquainted with the way of salvation, I should e'er now have been able to claim the blessing through the merits of Christ. But it is so simple I overlooked it; and thought myself wiser than I was. Now I begin to see with the Psalmist how ignorant I am, even 'as a beast' before the Lord; but blessed be His glorious name, I feel my confidence is in His mercy: yet I feel myself the most unprofitable of all His hands have made, and wonder why to me this boundless love."

IV.

THE HOLY ESTATE.

"AND THEY TWAIN SHALL BE ONE FLESH." Matt. xix. 5.

Wedded life, perhaps more than any other, is a test of character; but when entered upon "reverently, discreetly, soberly, advisedly, and in the fear of God," contributes in a higher degree not merely to earthly enjoyment, but to that which is the great end of life, human salvation. The constant action of two wills, thus intimately brought into contact with each other, must either inflame or mould the spirit, just in the degree in which it is subjected or not to the influence of divine grace; and where both parties are governed by Christian principle, the effect is mutual happiness and advantage. Nature is subdued, and grace brought into full play. The sorrows, difficulties, and temptations of life are lightened by reciprocal help and affection; the inheritance in heaven is pursued with greater zest because of united effort and encouragement; while the constant discharge of the respective duties of husband and wife serves for the development of the mind that was in Christ. Hence the Apostle Paul speaks of the marriage state as a great mystery, representing the union of Christ and his church. But marriage has reference to another and not less important object, the training of a "holy seed." The union of parents is intended to secure blessings upon, their children, and where the divine requirement is prayerfully attended to, there may be expected to be a fulfilment of the gracious promise,—"I will pour my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thine offspring."

In the prospect of assuming the responsible relation of wife, Miss Burdsall thought and felt deeply. Her first anxiety was, that she might find in her husband one who would help her in the way to heaven; and the next that she might be able to discharge the duties of her new station with efficiency and fidelity. The predominating desire of her heart was to find her happiness in God, and to be conformed in all things to his will. Two days before marriage she writes:—

"I feel this day my soul aspires heavenward, and my greatest bliss is derived from Emanuel's side. Glory be to God, I feel I love him, but long for more conformity to his will."

Mr. Lyth, who had solicited and won her affections, was the son of a respectable farmer residing in the neighbourhood of York. Originally designed for agricultural life, he had forsaken the plough to undertake a flourishing business, which had been commenced by an elder brother lately deceased: and being early converted to God, under the ministry of the venerable Sutcliffe, the proposed union was every way propitious.

The marriage was solemnized on the 18th of February, 1806, in the parish church of Holy Trinity, York; and so far as the principal parties were concerned with intensely religious feelings. Indeed Mr. Burdsall's loud and hearty responses to the prayers superseded the functions of the clerk, and somewhat astonished the officiating minister. The wedding dinner was spiced with the presence of the Rev. Samuel Bardsley, whose portly person, and beautiful simplicity contributed not a little to the amusement of the younger guests: and the same evening, the good old man preached an appropriate sermon, selecting for his subject, the marriage feast in Cana of Galilee. Mrs. Lyth's own feelings in relation, to this event, and during the first few years of wedded life, are best expressed by herself.

"Memorable day! I gave my hand to John Lyth at Hymen's sacred altar. I endeavoured to do it by faith, as well as I could; but felt extremely stupified. We went to spend the day at Newton upon Derwent. With me it passed more pleasantly towards the close, indeed, while we were conversing about God on our way home, I found it truly good; but when we came in sight of lay new habitation, the sensations that seized my mind are better felt than I can describe. It is now six weeks since I began to wear the matrimonial chain. I have clasped it without one thought of regret, and through grace I hope I ever shall; yet am conscious of my own incompetency to fill up the sphere I have entered. Oh! my God, help me, help me. I bless God my mind is drawn to seek my heaven in Jesus, although my earthly comforts are ready to ensnare me: yet having been taught to know the uncertainty of all transitory things, and that

'The fairest things below the sky
Give but a flattering light,'

I would, through grace strengthening me, give God my undivided heart. Lord, here I am, take me, and possess me wholly.—Glory be to God my soul lives. I feel 'drawn by the lure of strong desire' to choose God for my portion. The last week has been one of trial, but I am constrained to believe the Lord doeth all things well.—We arrived in Scarbro' after being much favoured during a showery day; but praise belongs to our heavenly Benefactor.—We took a walk to the church and castle; where my dear John unfortunately lost his watch. After searching for it in vain for nearly an hour, and thinking of returning home, providence led him to the place where he had dropped it. Surely it can be esteemed no other than the gift of heaven, since it had lain an hour exposed to the public crowds that resorted thither.—The day was fine, and we spent it in sitting a little in the house, and in walking upon the sands and among the rocks, seeking for shells, the beauty of which, with the wide ocean, and surrounding prospect, made me wish for the pen of a scribe and the imagination of a poet; but I found wishing to be a vain employment.

"About a quarter past eight in the morning my Eliza was born. Blessed be God he graciously supported me in the trial. O that mother and child may be devoted to Thee, thou God of infinite compassion. Give me more grace that I may walk unblameable in thy sight, and before those over whom thy providence has place me. Teach me to order my conversation aright, and to keep myself unspotted from the world. O my God, I have nothing to offer for all the blessings asked; but help me to be thy devoted servant from this moment.

"1807. My dear husband has made a purchase, which is to me a source of anxiety; but Lord, Thou knowest,—Thou rulest over all, help and direct. O let us in all our ways acknowledge Thee, that thou mayest direct our steps. Keep, O keep us from being a discredit to Thy cause; and in this particular set us right.—I am left alone with my infant, who begins to steal my affections more than I ever thought of. O God, take my poor heart, lost a creaturely attachment be too strongly rooted within my breast. Lord, Thou knowest me altogether, and the secret springs of my affection, cleanse me from all defilement; purify me from all my sins, and let me this moment yield myself entirely to Thee; and as Thou deignest to visit dust, visit me.—Time glides away; eternity approaches; and yet, alas! my mind fluctuates as the wind. O my God, shall I never be firmly grounded upon Thyself. Come, 'Desire of nations,' save me from anxiety respecting worldly things; let all our temporal affairs be under Thy management, and our happiness centre in doing thy will.

How vainly have I sought in things beneath
To place a confidence, which faithless earth
Can never recompence! O firmly fix
My soul on joys above the smiling skies;
Let Jesus' love inspire, and fill my heart.

God bless my dear companion. Settle and fix his affections on Thyself,—the supreme good. Let every faculty of his mind be at Thy command.

"1808. Twelve o'clock at night. Lord, my mind aspires heavenward. Let heaven, I beseech Thee, come into my soul. Let the radiance of Thy love fill me with light and life divine. Give me sensibly to feel and know, that Thou art reconciled to me, without Thy grace, effectually undone. I feel something within my heart, is it the effect of Thy love? If it is, let it more powerfully affect my soul, that I may live in constant readiness to take my flight to yon bright realms above. But is that bliss prepared for me? O let me feel it. This afternoon my brother Richard died. Alas! how uncertain are all sublunary things! He was just entering life, and lo! he is snatched away. Surely the all-wise 'I AM' saw evil gathering, and kindly removed him to a happier clime, safe from impending danger. Well, my Richard is gone; while I, four years older, am yet alive. Mercy, that took him, spares me with the same gracious design; 'not willing that any should perish, but that all might have everlasting life.' May that blessed end be answered in my poor soul, which without Thy enlivening presence feels an 'aching void' which the whole world cannot fill.

"This day has been a day of affliction, but it drives me to the Lord. My dear husband and children are entwined about my heart. Lord, help me to give them freely up, and do Thou take, and possess me whole."

The following lines were addressed to a valued friend:—

Whitehead, awake! and sweep the lyre again
With touch seraphic to a Saviour slain;
A Saviour, worthy of sublimest verse,
A Saviour's love too mighty to rehearse;
The purest theme that ever fired the tongue,
Gave life to genius,—harmony to song;
Fill thy enraptured soul with thought divine,
And pour its fulness on the glowing line.

"1809.—Have had a tooth drawn. O that the dire root of sin were as effectually taken away, never more to disturb my happiness; and that pure perennial peace might succeed,—I have been visiting the sick: but oh! how inadequate to the responsible task! O my God awake my drowsy powers, and fit me for every sphere I have to fill in life.—I feel more heartfelt joy in leaning upon Christ than anything else; yet it is hard work to keep the mind disentangled from worldly cares. Things needful to me, seem the most dangerous, and what I am most liable to be ensnared by. In visiting some infirm people my soul was deeply affected, when I considered their age, and ignorance, and my own inability to instruct them. How great is the ignorance of mankind! O that God would apply some word spoken by his poor dust."

During the time the Rev. A.E. Farrar was stationed in York, her aspirations after purity of heart reached a crisis, and she was enabled by faith to claim the promise; "Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it." For some time her convictions were so clear and distinct, that to use her own words she "durst not say she had not received the blessing." But this happy experience—the Christian's highest privilege on earth—was soon interrupted by doubtful reasonings; still her conscience was

"Quick, as the apple of an eye,
The slightest touch of sin to feel."

As an instance of her conscientiousness we mention a circumstance which took place somewhere about this time. A farmer, who owed my father a considerable sum of money, had been repeatedly importuned for payment, but without effect; and it was at length given up, as a bad debt. One Sabbath morning, while she was sitting alone, he unexpectedly called to settle his account. She said, "We have nothing to do with receiving money on a Sunday; it is the Lord's day, and we do not think it right." "Well," replied the man, holding the money in his hand, "you might as well take it while you have the chance of it." But neither argument, nor expostulation, could induce her to touch the forbidden notes. The man therefore pocketed the money, and went away; but not without an admonition on keeping holy the Sabbath day. No one eventually loses anything by the maintenance of principle, and the debt was honestly discharged the following week.

The solitary record of the year 1810, is contained in the following lines, which may be regarded as expressive of her own feelings.

Jesus, Thy glorious name shall still
My musing thought and tongue employ;
Whose presence doth creation fill.
Be Thou my portion and my joy.

Jesus! blest source of all my hope,
In whom my spirit finds its rest;
Whose precious blood, inspiring thought!
Hath purchased heaven to make me blest.

Where can a mortal language find,
To tell such love when angels fail?
"God did so love the world," and died,
That love by justice might prevail.

Drawn by this love, a witness I,
That God to all the Saviour gave;
Who willing are, may testify,
He can unto the utmost save.

"1811.—I thank God for the blessed privilege of hearing the ministers of righteousness, but lament their word makes so little impression upon my heart. I seem a forgetful hearer, or as one that hears the word with joy, but little fruit appears to perfection. Yesterday, irritated by some frivolous cause, I was thrown off my guard, and grieved the spirit of God. This occasioned a sense of condemnation, and though now the Lord blesses me, I cannot forgive myself. O that I again enjoyed the sanctifying influences of His Holy Spirit! Until this is the case, I shall be whirled about by my enemies within. Lord make me more in earnest, that I may never rest till again the sweet power of sovereign love has possession of my heart.—I rose early to attend the prayer-meeting, and receiving grace from Him whose birth we commemorated, I fancied my hill stood strong; and that I should be able to rise above everything I might have to try me: but alas! I again proved my own weakness. My little charge were some of them sick, others cross, all wanted me; so that all my graces were put to the test. O that I had more patience, that I might sit 'calm on tumult's wheel.' Lord, Thou knowest me altogether, I would not be a hypocrite, neither wound Thy cause by impatience; Thou hast promised strength for the day, and I am determined to cast my whole soul on Thee;—to have Thee for my Saviour. At the lovefeast much was said respecting family prayer. I bless God. This duty is my delight."

To a friend slighted in love, she writes—

Alas my friend! what can I say to cheer?
What sound is sweet to a distracted ear?
Turn from the creature, disappointed, turn:
Lament your folly,—deeply humbled mourn,
Your disregard of Him, who died to gain
Your worthless heart, and bid you love again.
O! turn to him, who gave himself for you,
Your love, your heart, your life, are all his due;
No fickleness or change in him is known,
He loves and will for ever love his own;
Here place your treasure, and here find your rest,
Make God your all, and be for ever blest.

"1812.—Through grace I am resolved on the side of virtue. I have peace in God, and a growing desire to imitate him in my daily walk; but no marvel if all my best actions need purging from their dross. I seem all pollution; yet my soul lays hold upon the Saviour, who alone is able to purify my nature. On February 3rd, my sister Anna died, eleven years old. I was called to witness the pleasing, painful, awful scene. While kneeling by her bed, after a paroxysm of extreme agony, as she had a moment's respite, my mother said; 'Ask her if she is happy to lift up her hand.' She did instantly and said, 'A kiss,' and so turned recollectedly to each, with a smiling countenance, while her dying lips were but just sensible of the impression; then after another short struggle she sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. So I alone am left to tell it."

1813.—After adverting to a number of painful circumstances, she adds:—"Praise God, the seizure of my own body, though by far the most painful of these occurrences, has been the greatest blessing. On the first attack I was stupified—but the Lord liberated me and supplied grace in the hour of need. Thus have I experienced how suddenly the Lord can take away the choicest of all blessings, health. Being through mercy again restored, my soul derives its happiness from God. I see before me broad rivers and streams springing from that fountain, whence all solid comfort flows; but great weakness, much unfaithfulness, many omissions and errors in myself. Lord increase my faith, that I may enter the holiest by the blood of Jesus. For some time I have met in band with Mrs. W. We have had many precious seasons together.—A circumstance occurring which was misconstrued, put me suddenly out of temper, and caused me much pain of mind, besides displeasing others together with my dear partner. O my God, but for Thy blood, I should lose all hope of eternal happiness; yet blot not, I beseech Thee, my name out of the book of life; but if ever my heart went with my words, I entreat Thee,—

"Chase this self-will through all my heart,
Through all its latent mazes there."

"1814.—Reflecting on the past—my mercies and ingratitude, my warnings and neglect, my privileges and non-improvements, my affliction and restoration to health, Thy love, O God, in ten thousand instances, and my small affection, I wonder why I am still the object of Thy care, but I see the cause in Jesus' blood. There the reason lies. O might I here my nature lose, and gain the Infinite."

Musing on the loss of her children, three of whom had died in infancy, she writes:—

Blest mother! thus to yield to God
The gifts so lately given;
Blest babes I for you have cross'd the flood,
And safely 'scaped to heaven.

I have been very much harassed with temptation of an awful kind,—to blaspheme the blessed Spirit. My God, preserve me. I shudder at the thought, and have necessarily been driven to God in prayer.—I have to praise God for temptation; for seeking refuge in Jesus, my only defence against my enemy, I have a firmer confidence in Him as my Saviour.

Whither, O whither, should I go?
To Thy blest wounds I flee;
No refuge can I find below,
My help is all in Thee.

"The illumination! a crowded city! many devices! The face of the people seems to speak peace, but Thou, Lord, seest the heart. Set my heart right.—As the clock struck three I was awoke with the words; 'Put on the helmet of salvation and the weapon of all prayer.' For a time fear crept over me, lest my husband and child, both from home, should return ill; but as I meditated, the passage occurred; 'All things work together for good to them that love God.' I was instantly delivered; and all I could titter was, Glory be to God. As I lay praising and praying, these lines arose in my mind.

If time is so precious, and death on the wing,
Oh! shelter me, Jesus, secure from his sting;
Now open the fountain, and wash out my stain,
That to live may be Christ, and to die may be gain.
This, this is the honour to which I aspire,
The grace to attain it is all I desire;
Oh! fill me with heaven, through faith in Thy blood,
Then crown me with glory, and lift me to God.

I have had a precious morning—arose a little before five, and spent an hour alone. God was with me. Glory! Glory!"

"How time hurries on! Another year has almost stolen away. Where am I? What am I? Thus much of time is gone; how much fitter am I for heaven? I pause,—am alone,—but 'Thou God seest me.' On my knees, I ask Thy mercy, and implore Thee to be mine for ever. Precious Jesus! I feel Thee willing to save me, and a sweet confidence Thou wilt save me. O! the sweetness of union with God!—My mind is troubled about the future. Sensible of my own weakness, my children's welfare awakens my concern. O my God, take charge of my little ones. While attempting to instruct them to-day, my two little girls seemed affected. O let this be the beginning of Thy fear in their hearts, that shall never, never, depart."

Her anxiety on behalf of the salvation of her children was intense. Her efforts were commenced with the first dawn of intelligence, and continued with unremitting ardour until they were rewarded with success. By timely instruction and caution, by counsel and expostulation, by warning and reproof, by a godly discipline, by frequent letters in which the "one thing" was never forgotten; by prayers and supplications mingled with tears, as they knelt alone at her side; by intercessions offered day and night in secret on their behalf; by enforcing the punctual observance of religious duties, such as reading the word, family devotion, and public worship; and by her own pure example, she never ceased to train them in the way that they should go. But her chief strength lay in ceaseless and effectual prayer, which was urged in the spirit of him who said, "I will not let Thee go, except Thou bless me." Is it wonderful, if her children and grandchildren are found walking in the truth? For many successive years, she was accustomed to address to each a few lines on the anniversary of their birth. These were always replete with godly counsels, and wisely suited to the age and circumstances of the individual. The periodical effusion was anxiously looked for, and highly prized. To our young imaginations, the productions of her pen glowed with all the fire of Milton, and flowed with all the softness and melody of Spenser; and if a riper judgement has robbed us of the pleasing fancy, it has been at least replaced by the grateful conviction that they were the overflowings of a mother's heart, and by the blessing of God, contributed in a great measure to give an early bias in favour of religious truth. A specimen written at this time is here inserted.

TO MY RICHARD.

Unuttered feelings glow within my heart,
Ah! in what language can I paint them best?
That you, my darling boy, may know a part,
Unconscious of what fills a mother's breast.

Childlike and innocent your actions are,
No thought of guile as yet within your breast;
Alas! the wily foe, not lurking far,
May soon corrupt and desecrate your rest.

Might I unveil the snares, that scattered round,
Beset your path from childhood to old age;
But Love allwise, in mystery profound,
Has hid in darkness all the varied page.

Be it sufficient, grace is ever nigh;
If in the path of rectitude you tread,
No ill shall harm you; you will soon descry
The tempter's snare, however deeply laid.

Choose virtue, Richard, shun the path of vice,
Let not ungodly youth your mind ensnare;
Take this wise caution, "If they would entice,
Consent thou not;" be sure that sin is there.

Walk with the wise, that you may wiser grow;
Let age teach wisdom, hear it with respect;
It can in time forwarn, and danger show,
Where you no secret mischief may suspect.

In useful learning all your youth engage;
From simple knowledge of your mother tongue,
Proceed to figures; then, from stage to stage
Pursue each science, though the way be long.

By knowledge learn your ignorance to know,
Nor dream you have the height of wisdom gained;
No greater proof of ignorance below,
Than loud to boast of what we have attained.

Read useful books—the Bible most prefer,
In it your Maker's will is clearly shown;
Then bend your humble knee in secret prayer,
That faith may make its precious truths your own.

If tales of fiction should themselves present,
Too oft injurious to the mind of youth,
Throw them aside; and sacredly intent
On your improvement, follow after truth.

When you require relief, be history true
Of your own land, and other lands perused;
This will instruct, give entertainment too,
While neither time nor talents are abused.

Thus, in your youth, redeem the fleeting hour,
That you in future life may useful be;
By word and deed as far as in your power,
To stem the torrent of impiety.

Remember, as your present life is spent,
Future reward or punishment is due;
Oh! then improve the precious moments lent,
And everlasting life shall wait on you.

"Praise God, I have a partner desirous of joining heartily in the Christian warfare; often are we blest while we pour out our souls together before the Lord, O for a closer walk with God."

V.

SHOWER AND SUNSHINE.

"NOW MEN SEE NOT THE BRIGHT LIGHT WHICH IS IN THE CLOUDS;
BUT THE WIND PASSETH, AND CLEANSETH THEM." Job xxxvii. 21.

That stage of life which immediately precedes a ripe age, when man is in the full vigour of his strength, is not unfrequently like an April day mingled with sunshine and shower. The care of a rising family, and the accumulating interests of business and society, bring constant alternations of joy and sorrow; designed by God to soften and fructify the heart, which might otherwise become too callous under the scorching blaze of the world. Happy is it, when these kindly workings of a sublimer providence, cause the graces of his spirit to shoot forth like "the tender grass springing up out of the earth by clear shining after rain;" and when the experience acquired in seasons of vicissitude, is treasured up in the heart for future use. Mrs. Lyth had her April weather preparatory to the summer of her usefulness, as will appear by further extracts from her journal.

"1815—My father Lyth left us to join the disembodied throng. The last fortnight of his life was chiefly spent in prayer. I believe he died penitent. Thou best of Beings! prepare me for the approaching trial. In the fire may I lose nothing but sin. Fortify my mind, and let patience have its perfect work, that by no pain I may fall from Thee. Here I call to mind, that Thou hast brought me through six troubles; O leave me not in the seventh. Let me again prove Thy faithfulness.

"I scarcely know how the last fortnight has escaped. O the rapidity of time! well might one say, 'O time than gold more precious, more a load than lead to fools.' I am thankful, all my solid happiness is derived from God; and though I have many earthly comforts I can say, 'All my springs are in Thee.' I long to drink more freely of those living fountains, and to draw constant supplies from the inexhaustible fulness of the ever-blessed and adorable Jesus. Oh! it is sweet to meditate on this loved theme. Rising into God we lose ourselves, and seemed wrapped up in Deity.—Having met with a little disappointment, my mind is in some degree unhinged; I have been begging of God to undertake the matter, and overrule all for the best, which I hope has been the case; yet I find it hard to give up my own will. Lord, help me. I accompanied my father and mother to see cousin Hannah, who is apparently declining. Her prospects in life were exceedingly bright, but happiness is not in them, as there can be no enjoyment without health. What a mercy, afflictions spring not out of the dust: I am again called to experience it. Our apprentice, servant maid, and Eliza, are all in the scarlet fever. Better than I could expect considering the pressure upon me, I am constrained to say, judgment is mixed with love. May we lose nothing but dross, and shine brighter for being in the furnace.—I am informed by letter that cousin Hannah is no more,—it says nothing how she left this world. I long to know—will to-morrow inform me? I purpose to be at her funeral, if God give leave. O Thou, who wast to the Israelites both a pillar and a cloud, if Thou go not up with us, suffer us not to journey; for Thou knowest my heart, I wish to please Thee.—We went to Kirkby to the interment of my late Cousin, who, I am informed, died happily. Nearly her last intelligible words were, 'Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.' So she closed this mortal scene, and left her blooming prospects, fair estates, and all the bright anticipations of youth, for the lone silence of the tomb.—I feel more endeared than ever to the invisible world, being warned as I believe, by some departed friend, to give diligence. I am also reminded by the death of my cousin how vain are all things here below. Perhaps it was her kind spirit—who can tell?"

A QUESTION ASKED.

Does marriage, like the features of a fair and lovely face,
Lose all its sweet attractions, when age comes on apace?
Do soothing acts of kindness and words of comfort go,
When troubles are assailing, and pleasure's cup is low?
No, surely heav'n design'd it more to ameliorate
The lonely state of humankind, when first He form'd a mate.

"1816.—I went to the School-room; and never did my eyes behold a scene so pleasing:—boys and girls in different parts of the room crying for mercy; while others were rejoicing in God. 'Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings Thou hast ordained praise.' I longed for the salvation of my three children who were all there, but I had no power to take any active part; my mind seemed paralized.—In the midst of our afflictions God has not forgotten us. Our Waller [an apprentice] has obtained mercy, and Eliza's heart is touched. O that God would save all our family. I have had some 'seasons of refreshing;' but not enjoying the sanctifying influences of God's Spirit, I have felt a disposition to be discontented with the arrangements of Providence respecting the health of my children. I daily mourn this inbred corruption but not sufficiently, or I should be more in earnest to get rid of it. At present I feel a longing for the blessed liberty which many express. O may I share in the baptism which is now so gloriously shed upon this city.—The fifth day I have spent in my new habitation; all is confusion, and must remain so for some time to come. This would be a matter of little moment, if my mind were not distressed by the affliction of my Eliza. So I find every joy has its sorrow. Lord, as Thou knowest what is best for me and mine, give me patience, and let every dispensation of Thy providence be sanctified.—We opened our new shop. The first customer demanded credit, and the second took up her money with her goods, and went away with both. Providentially it was restored. We have now made a fortnight's trial, and have great cause of thankfulness for the prospect of success. The last few months have been full of toil and anxiety, but thank God, I can say:

'While blest with a sense of His love
A palace a toy would appear;
And prisons would palaces prove,
If Jesus but dwelt with me there.'

I have been aiming, though feebly, to give God my heart. It is good to come to the Lord in private; it is there I find my greatest enjoyment.—For several nights I have suffered much pain; as much I think, as my patience could endure. In one of the paroxysms, the passage was continually in my mind, 'The wise shall inherit glory.' Throughout yesterday found it very sweet. I am in part deprived of the public ordinances, but find solid happiness in breathing my wishes to the Throne, and derive sweet solace from Him, whose smile creates my day.—Find in private with my God, I gain the most substantial peace; at least I have not learned the noble art of being ''midst busy multitudes alone.'—Our servant was taken dangerously ill. I think I did not feel any disposition to murmur; but want firmer reliance on the power of God, whose promise never fails. Have lately had some blessed meetings with my God, perhaps preparatory to this trial."

"1817. To-morrow, two criminals are to suffer death for the crime of murder. How awful from an earthly judge to receive the last sentence of the law! but how much more so to hear from Thee that final sentence, 'Depart ye cursed!' O, my God, let the cry of the prisoners come up before Thee.

In pity bow Thy gracious ear,
Incline the sinner's heart to prayer,
And draw him to Thy Son,
Through whom, though vile he is, Thou wilt
Remove the blackness of his guilt;
Oh! let it now be done.

Thou Friend of sinners, if I may
Approach, O give a heart to pray,
And let Thy Spirit plead.
But few the hours he has to live,
O give repentance and forgive,
Forgive the bloody deed.

At intervals have found it good, yea very good, while upon my knees; indeed I must say my happiest moments have been there. Why am I ever remiss in this duty, which brings me more solid peace than anything beside? There, I converse with God; there, behold His glory; there, forget self; there, get love to cover faults; there, assimilate to the image of God. This week has been marked by the affliction of my two youngest children. How painful to a mother to see them suffer! yet Lord, Thou knowest, I would rather see them droop and even die, than that they should live to rebel against Thee, and shut themselves out of Thy kingdom. O my God, on my knees, I present them all to Thee. Bless them with grace and understanding, and save them for ever.—I have had to grapple with rheumatism. It is painful, but what in duration, when compared with eternity? Nothing. May my soul, evermore fly upward. What need in health to prepare for sickness! There is then plenty to do to hold fast whereunto we have attained.—Cousin John Stables has exchanged life for immortality. His last words were, 'I am going to heaven, I know I am.' Blest knowledge in the hour of death! but more exalted, they who daily live with the assurance 'I am Thine', centering in God their hope and wish,—My dear little Hannah died, aged twenty weeks. A sweet smile rested upon her countenance. O Death! how art thou robbed of thy terrors, when infancy smiles in thy presence! Have not been at my class for a long time in consequence of ill-health: to-day I might have gone, but with shame confess, I forgot the time. O Lord lay not this sin to my charge. My heart would not displease Thee; my soul delights in Thee, and derives its happiness and peace from God my Saviour: no merit in myself, but Christ is all in all.—I would this evening offer Thee my heart; give me sincerity O God, and let me know the sacrifice is accepted. I am under deep obligation to Thee for having so far removed the pain from which I suffered May ease be gratefully acknowledged by me, and let my life show forth Thy praise. I bless the Lord for all the good I possess, and am constrained to say, it is all divine. Have begun to read Locke on the Understanding. Lord enlarge my capacity.—Enjoy better health than for several months; for this may my soul be truly thankful. It is good for me that I have been afflicted; I have learned to value my mercies as the gift of heaven. My anchor is in Jesus; from him my peace perpetually springs. I now feel he is my God. Yet the secret motions of my heart concur with the enemy of my soul to bring me into bondage, I long for victory. When will the happy moment arrive? Have lately thought the Lord has something for me to do; I would not bury my talents in the earth; but do Thou Lord, who knowest my insufficiency, direct my way. Glory be to God, I am blest while calling to mind his innumerable mercies. It is like lifting up the lid of a casket to expose the jewels contained therein to the light of the sun, whose radiance they reflect, and whose heat they attract.—How sweet to be at the throne of grace! Have had great freedom with the Lord while interceding for a fallen friend, over whom I lament. O that God would reclaim the wanderer. My soul is sweetly drawn out after more of the image of God, for to the present I have but little imitated my Lord. God help me in my life to display every feature of his character. My dear cousin Ann is, I fear, sinking, so true is it, 'Man cometh up as a flower,' and is cut down; but she is happy in God. This is cause of thanksgiving. Many of the excellent of the earth are retreating behind the veil. May I work while it is day. What a poor slothful soul I have been, when heaven shines so bright above me. Now I feel resolved to work. Jesus, Thou seest my heart, aid me that I loiter no more. A full salvation is what my soul aims at; but ah! how grovelling and low are my desires! language is too poor to express my poverty, when seen in the light of the Sun of righteousness.

O! when shall I from sin set free,
Bask in the light of Deity?

Expand my heart and fill the wide expanse.—While Mr. Haswell was preaching, a woman cried out, 'Bless the Lord; bless the Lord O my soul.' I trust she was under divine influence. Mr. H. gave out; 'Praise God from whom,' &c. I began to suspect the power of God was more eminently present than I imagined: this led me to seek after it in my own breast, and to long for a more powerful manifestation. Praise God, I could say,

'Lo! God is here, let us adore.'

On my return home, I met the judge with his retinue returning from court, lighted by torches. How solemn! But what, when the Judge of all the earth shall descend from heaven with a shout and with the trump of God! At His bar must I appear, and conscience that staunch witness, give its unimpeachable evidence for or against me, O that Jesus, the sinner's friend, may then sustain my cause. Praised be His name; faith springs up in my heart, and encourages me to believe that I shall receive the crown of life. Blessed hope!—Mrs. —— breakfasted with me. We had a truly blessed morning—our conversation was in heaven. During the day I have been troubled with evil reasoning. When shall this body of death be destroyed, and Christ be all in all? Visited Miss D. in the asylum. She seems in dark despair; I got her to her knees, and found it precious to my own soul.—Glory be to God I dare believe. Keep me till I am fully saved. Am watching my William in the measles; Richard has just recovered. What a mercy I am in health to attend them; yet am afraid my too anxious care for them has checked my zeal. Through mercy my soul lives to-day; I feel a divine appetite, and am looking for the appearance of my Lord to the destruction of all the carnal mind.—At Stockton lovefeast, the Lord opened my mouth, both in the Chapel, and at a neighbouring house; I was constrained to speak. May the imperfect hints thrown out be as bread cast upon the waters, and what I said amiss the Lord forgive. The peace of God ruled my heart.—The mournful tidings of Cousin Mary's death has reached us. The day before, she was up sewing. How sudden a transition from time to eternity! Although at the funeral, I cannot learn how she died. How my heart is oppressed! She has left a fine smiling boy unconscious of his loss, and her father, whose displeasure she had incurred by her marriage, unreconciled. How my feelings are ploughed up! The training of my children occasions me great solicitude. How shall I safely steer, where so many make shipwreck? Without Thy direction and influence, I too shall miss my way. Come then, thou heavenly Wisdom, teach me to imbue their tender minds with truth, that the impression may remain in riper years.—Another parliamentary election. O my God elect me 'through sanctification of Thy Spirit.'—My mind suffers keenly in consequence of a conversation with ——. Thou, Lord, knowest exactly where the error lies; let it be discovered. If I am in the wrong make me willing to retract. I want to be a Christian in deed and truth.—It was impressed upon my mind to call upon Miss M. H., and urge her to seek salvation, having long been a hearer of the Gospel. I scarcely knew how to break through, as I had no particular acquaintance with her. However, passing by the same day, providence so ordered it, that she sat facing the door. I passed, but remembering my impression, mustered courage and returned. After inquiring about her health I told her my errand. She was affected, and said she had a very hard heart. I replied, 'It is not too hard for God to soften.' With much fear I undertook the charge of Miss Bentley's class, in consequence of her indisposition, but trust the Lord will soon restore her to active usefulness. The more willingly I offer myself to the Lord, the sweeter communion I find with Him.—Repeated my visit to Miss M. H., I believe in obedience to the influence of the Spirit which constrained me—not intending to call at that time. I found her sincerely seeking salvation, and endeavoured to point her to the Lamb of God. My own soul was blessed while thus engaged. How shall I praise God for His love to a worm?—Called again, when she told me she had received a visit from the Lord. She durst not say her sins were forgiven, but felt encouraged.—Having to pass through some things of a trying nature, I felt fully resigned, and the throne of grace easy of access. Keep me at Thy feet, O God, that I may rise in Thy likeness and in all things do Thy will.—Mr. Moore remarked in his sermon, 'Happy is the man of one book;' my heart replied, So he is, for in all I read, I find no book so sweet as the Bible; yet there are some which are precious, and which I value as a treasure.—Another distinguished mercy. After another attack of cramp the Lord has been pleased to restore to me the use of my hands, which have been locked from three o'clock in the morning until evening. May I never forget the Lord's mercy towards me, but studiously labour to be found of Him in peace, that when the awful crisis arrives, I may be ready."

"1819. I am still in a weak state of body, unable to attend to my family. O Lord, support my mind. Feel resolved to cast my soul on Jesus; and although I have to struggle to retain my hold, will hang on the Crucified."

This year was one of severe personal affliction, which continued for several months. At one time little hope was entertained of her recovery, and none that she would ever again be restored to active life. Medical aid seemed utterly unavailing; but the Lord had chosen her in the furnace of affliction, and by these means, inscrutable at the time, was refining and fitting her for remarkable usefulness. At length when the process was complete, contrary to the predictions of physicians, and beyond the expectations of her friends, she was given back again to her family, and the church. In reference to this affliction, she says, in a letter to one of her daughters:—

"Your brother Samuel is put out to nurse; he is a delicate little boy. I am at Mrs. F.'s out of Walmgate Bar, for the benefit of my health; if it please God to sanctify the means. In some respects, I am better, but yet very feeble; however, I am in the Lord's hands, and have been for a long time his prisoner. I wish to keep my cause in his hand. Poor Samuel! I every day expect to hear, that he has escaped to glory. My weakness reconciles me to his loss, for the righteous Judge of all the earth cannot but do right. Dear Mary will discover from my writing, there is an alteration in me. To tell you the truth, I can scarcely recollect how to spell; my memory is so much impaired by this affliction. But thank God, I have the full use of my reason, and my soul longs to awake after the image of God. Friends are very kind in visiting me which makes the days pass more pleasantly. I ride out when the weather is fine, but am able to walk very little."

On her recovery she writes:—

"I would raise my song of gratitude to my God, who, I am confident has restored me in answer to prayer, though I am still very weak. During my affliction my mind has been variously exercised; sometimes I could cast myself with all my concerns upon God; at other times was much depressed; once in the multitude of my thoughts within me, it was suggested, as if a voice spoke to me, 'What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.'"

I thank Thee for the comfort given,
When agonized with pain;
The love infused—the taste of heaven,
That cheered my heart again;
In answer to the faithful prayers
Of many a fervent soul,
Disease retired—for mercy spares,
And makes the sinner whole.

VI.

GROWTH IN GRACE.

"AS THE TENDER GRASS, SPRINGING OUT OF THE EARTH, BY
CLEAR SHINING AFTER RAIN."—2 Sam. xxiii. 4.

God doeth nothing in vain. Cloud and sunshine, stormy winds, and steeping rains, have each their appointed purpose; and in their season contribute to bless, and refresh the earth; that it may bring forth its increase for the service of man and beast. You have often seen, how after a shower in the cheerful spring-time, the green meadows have suddenly put on a fresher and livelier hue; and the tender grass seemed to grow before your eyes. Just so, in the higher economy of grace, seasons of trial and affliction have their definite design; only here the effect is not determined by an irresistible law; but suspended upon the conduct of man. The heart must be open to receive the genial influences, which are thus mysteriously communicated; the will must submissively bow under the dispensations of an allwise Providence; and, especially, seasons of affliction should be seasons of earnest prayer. Then will they be followed by a marked increase of spiritual life and power. Mrs. Lyth benefitted by her afflictions; and although she more frequently mourns over her own unprofitableness, her growth in grace is clearly apparent in her journal, which we resume.

"1820.—Although I have the victory I cannot yet say the old man is dead; some seeds of peevishness yet remain to be destroyed. Praise God, I hate the garment spotted by the flesh. 'All peace, all love,' is the desire of my heart, and the longing of my soul.—A day of fasting and prayer; but separation from every thing that defileth is what is pleasing to the Lord. May this be my continual abstinence. Amen.—Not able to procure a substitute to meet my husband's class, I ventured myself, sensible of my own unfitness, and earnestly begging God to speak by me. One person went out, but whatever was the cause, thank God, I felt that my work was with the Lord.—Went to see poor old Sarah; found her confined to her bed but happy in the Lord: nature was fast sinking. I wished her to have a nurse, but she thought she could do alone, as she had a candle, and the Lord was with her: left her, but found means to procure a nurse for the night.—A few days ago I was awoke with the words, 'What shall I do for thee?' My answer was, 'Lord, that I may live more fully to Thee, and for Thee.' Unutterable sweetness filled my soul, and now, while I write, I feel it still. Glory be to God, His love is ever new. To walk with Him, transcends all earthly enjoyment.—During the last week I have learned my own weakness. Unaided by divine grace, I have no power to check trifling conversation among professors; especially such as are older than myself. Teach me how to act, when to speak, and when to be silent. To-day felt it my duty to visit a neighbour, and met with a more favourable reception than I expected. He has long been ill, and is now in trouble. I told him that I had come to bring him good news, that 'Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners;' and while conversing with him on the necessity of an interest in the Redeemer's blood, in order to forgiveness, he seemed to listen with attention. May the Lord make him a witness of the saving power of the Gospel, Some little matters, which require a patient and forgiving spirit, have occurred to fill up my character as a Christian. Lord, help me and give me that spirit which in Thy sight is of great price.—Thirty-eight years old! How short the time appears! yet how varied the scenes through which I have passed! and how different the views I have had. Praise the Lord. With respect to the soul, I have clearer views than ever. My feet are upon the rock. When I look over my life, how blotted it appears! am lost in astonishment, that God, who made all things, and upholds all things by the word of his power, should stoop to such a wretch as I. O the depth of the riches of His mercy to me!—I have received a letter from Cousin Ann, in which she boldly confesses the cleansing blood. Hope it will prove a lasting blessing to me; feel ashamed that I have not more openly acknowledged what the Lord has done for my soul. By this omission, have clipped the wings of my faith, and encouraged a diffidence, which I long to have removed; have hesitated upon the plea, that I would wait and see whether the work was genuine or no. O my Saviour forgive, and condescend to teach one of the dullest scholars in Thy school.—Have found the five o'clock prayer-meetings very profitable, and cannot be thankful enough that I have health to go. At the prayer-leaders' Lovefeast, said I could give up all for God, but have since asked myself, Is this true? Lord, Thou knowest it is the desire of my heart to give myself to Thee without reserve: accept the offering. I feel Thee now pouring in Thy ineffable peace. My soul has but one object, inward and outward holiness. O make me quite clear.—The intercourse is open between my soul and God, but yet I have had to struggle for it. O save me fully. This is what I want. Last Tuesday I felt I could not doubt. Stamp me, Saviour, with Thy seal, and keep me ever Thine. I again met Mrs. G.'s class. I feel myself more fit to sit at their feet and be taught; but O Thou, who usedst clay to open the eyes of the blind, use me for Thy glory.—Some keen things uttered by a relative have wounded me to the quick. I feel innocent, yet, Lord, how little I can hear! Give me the love that hopeth all things, endureth all things, which rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth.—Kirkby. I am reading Fletcher's Life. How it excites holy desire! My earnest aspiration is after perfect love. When shall it once be? Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.—We went to Ribstone to see Mrs. R. but did not pray at the close of the visit; my mind was wounded on this account. The Lord pardon all my offences.—Cousin and I found it good to pour out our souls before God, alone. At first my mind felt hard; but by and by, the veil was drawn aside, and I enjoyed a sweet manifestation of the Lord;—a settled peace but no overflowing joy. My earnest wish is to be quite clear, for I am more than ever convinced of the reality of the blessing. The cleansing power of God puts us in a capacity to 'grow in grace,' and live to the glory of God.—We walked to Barrowby, and took tea with Miss H. She is a friendly girl, possessing the advantage of a polite education, but wants the main accomplishment—vital godliness: she wept while I talked with her. O that it may not pass away as the morning cloud! On our return we had a blessed meeting with our God. I felt the power to cast myself by faith upon the Lord; but still do not perceive the direct witness of the cleansing blood: am resolved not to give up the point until I obtain my suit.—I left Kirkby,—a place so congenial to my inclinations, secluded from scenes of noise and excitement,—and had a pleasant journey home, where I found all well. Praise God.—Returning from the Lord's house, a beautiful rainbow attracted my attention, and preached a second sermon to me; putting me in mind of the covenant which the Lord had made with His people.—I am aiming to keep the prize in view. I see lengths and breadths before me; and my heart, thank God, is bent to pursue that which to me is most desirable, viz., holiness. But I need stronger faith to enter in by the blood of Jesus. Union with Him is sweet. This makes one thirst for more. Many temptations assault me, but the reading of Fletcher's Polemical Essay on Christian Perfection has been of advantage to me. I am learning the method of bringing to God those evils and besetments, which seem to be the main hindrances to my progress. I have much cause of humiliation before the Lord, and wish to attain that sweet spirit of abasement, which not only confesses its unworthiness, but feels willing, that others should be preferred before me. I have need of vigilance; my enemy is ready to seize upon the least advantage. To Thee, O God, my soul looks up.—A dream, I had this week, powerfully impressed me with the necessity of being faithful with our relatives, and of living near to God ourselves. Private prayer has been profitable, but do not know that I was ever so much beset with peculiar temptation. Since I have become acquainted with the devices of the enemy, have found another errand to the Lord.—Spent the forenoon with some of the friends of God, and the poor. On attending one of the women's prayer-meetings, find my name, has been omitted, but believe it is for the best.

'Make me little and unknown,
Prized and loved by God alone.'

Last night I was troubled in my sleep, but it was sweetly suggested; 'God is our refuge—a very present help in trouble.' Glory be to God for His promises; may I hang upon them more firmly than ever. To-day my soul has been drawn after God; but when shall I be able to say with Mr. Wesley, 'Now I have lived a day.'—Find patience a grace. I especially need, both with respect to myself, my children, my domestics, and the world. Had not the sacred Scriptures declared 'ye have need of patience,' I should be more ready to reason with the enemy than I am. But the word of God is a strong tower against the assaults of the devil; here the righteous find a refuge and a hiding-place.—What a poor unprofitable creature I am! Lord, I cast myself upon Thee. Save a helpless soul, that feels no merit but in Jesu's atoning blood."

"1821. Am ashamed to acknowledge I have felt a little impatience, because my hands through stiffness, occasioned by cramp, have refused to perform their ordinary duty. Forgive me, O my God; nor ever let me repine at any of Thy dispensations to a worm, loaded with benefits as I am. I seem a poor piece of useless lumber, but Thou bearest with me. Let me ever live to Thee.—Although I usually sleep well, last night I lay awake for some time, but my meditations were sweet; they turned upon Peter's advice to those who had received like precious faith, viz.; 'Add to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance PATIENCE,' &c. I have felt its influence to-day. Praise the Lord for so divine an admonition; my soul needs it.—The debt of gratitude I owe to Thee, 'O Thou Preserver of men,' I feel glad to acknowledge, though I am unable to pay. Glory be unto Thee for Thy renewed mercy to a worm. Help me to repeat my vows to Thee, who hast graciously protracted my life, and through another seeming death delivered me. Let the babe, thy love has given me, be unreservedly dedicated to Thyself. But oh! how shall I tell of Thy unbounded love to a worthless creature! My soul longs to be wholly Thine. Help my feebleness; let me turn neither to the right hand nor the left, but teach me all Thy will.—I am blessed with health, surrounded by friends, and encompassed by mercies. How infinitely poor is my gratitude to the Lord, when all these are considered! How is it, Lord, that my affection for Thee is so cold, and my faith in Thy infallibility so weak? Quicken me, animate my drooping powers, and let me every moment live in Thee.—I have the witness within me, but daily feel my own weakness. All my good comes from heaven, and requires constant renewal. I have faith in God, but thirst for more. I want to be deluged with the love of God.—A trivial circumstance has been a source of mental exercise; but thank God, have had power to keep my tongue. Let the issues of my heart be kept by Thee."

ON THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, MAY 5TH, 1821.

He falls! Napoleon Buonaparte is gone:
Who conquered thousands, conquered now by one:
His strength diminished, and his glory fled;
His kingdom taken, and his honour dead.
Though clad in warlike state,—without command;
A captive buried in a foreign land:
Oh! might we hope the captive now is free,
Escaped from bondage into liberty.

"In private I have been greatly blessed; but, oh! the sense of ignorance I feel makes me ashamed: yet I know not that I ever felt a deeper thirst for all that God can give. Come, Lord, and diffuse Thy presence through my soul. I have been reading Bramwell's Memoir; how desirable his life! How enviable his death! Help me, Lord, to follow after, and to walk in close communion with Thee; that I may apprehend that, for which I am apprehended in Christ Jesus.—At. St Michael's Church the Rev. John Graham improved the death of the Rev. William Richardson, who for half a century has laboured in York, and been much esteemed on account of his ministerial usefulness. He gave a concise account of Mr. R.'s literary and spiritual attainments. His Christian character was excellent. His chief joy was in Christ crucified; and his constant prayer, that he might not live longer than he could be useful. His labours continued up to his last illness, which lasted only a week, and his last words were, 'My pleasures are to come.' Thus died this eminent minister of Jesus Christ, aged 76. To me it was a season of especial profit; angels seemed hovering around."

REFLECTIONS.

Returning seasons bid reflection wake,
And o'er the past a winding passage take:
Ah! what a scene of change arrests the mind,
Within the compass of five months behind!
In many a home is hushed the voice of mirth,
And sorrow, as a flood, o'erflows the earth.
Here one, by sad misfortune followed fast,
In hopeless indigence is plunged at last.
Another, by disaster thrown aside,
Has got a crippled limb to prop his side.
There, death has made a breach, and left forlorn
The widowed mother, and the babe unborn.
Here, weeps the father o'er his orphan child,
Who thinks it strange, for formerly he smiled:
Oh! who can tell the sorrows of his breast?
'Tis sad experience must reveal the rest.

A few days since, a mournful crowd appeared,
In sable garb, and to the church repaired;
Ask you the reason of their measured pace,
Why silent all, and tears on every face.
Alas! the Pastor's dead, who, fifty years,
The Gospel tidings sounded in their ears:—
A man of God, endued with purpose strong,
Who lived the truth he taught, and hated wrong,
Full thirty years, the schools enjoyed his care;
The sick, the poor, the Missions claimed a share.
But now, we hear his friendly voice no more;
His course is finished, and the fight is o'er.
Come, hear the accents of his flying lips,
"My pleasures are to come;"—the curtain slips,
And hides what follows from our curious eyes:
Enough! he joins the chorus of the skies.

Another scene, and melancholy too;
The bridegroom widowed, ere he pleasure knew;
His hopes of bliss had soared unduly high,
And little dreamt he there was danger nigh;
But see! the throes of death his bride arrest,
The barbed arrow strikes her beating breast:
His hands have touched the cup, but ere he sips,
The wine is hurried from his burning lips.

Such are the sorrows which around I find,
Diverse, and manifold as human kind.
Let these suffice my gratitude to fire,
And with unfeigned praise my tongue inspire.
That I, so undeserving, still possess
Unnumber'd mercies, through redeeming grace.
Let each vicissitude my soul prepare,
By patience here, for endless glory there;
Where sickness ceases, and where sorrows end,
Where no misfortune can the bliss suspend;
Where death is banished, for the curse is o'er,
And love unrivall'd reigns for evermore.

"I have greater pleasure in visiting the sick, and the poor, than in visiting those who, as far as this world is concerned, are better circumstanced; in the former case, my object is simply to do or get good, but in the latter, I find it is in danger of being mixed with other motives. Christ is the end as well as the source of my happiness. Oh! to be saved in every word and thought, this is what my soul covets. I feel I am getting firmer hold of Christ.—I have been tempted to a spirit of fretfulness and ill-nature; praise the Lord for the victory. I was enabled to come to him for help, and power; and by ejaculatory prayer, found sweet access to the Throne. I can say it is my chief study to live to please God, and to obtain a complete victory over myself, which I find is no small conquest.—The prospect of my children's return from school has supplied me with another subject of prayer. I have asked for patience, perseverance, and firmness to guide them aright. By simply coming to the Lord, I obtain help; and am sure, that while I continue to act faith in His power, I shall be helped. Then help Thy servant evermore to trust in Thee.—Had purposed going to the Prayer-meeting, but was prevented; I believe Providence guided me, and appointed me another work. In talking to my family at home, I felt great liberty; the Lord loosened my tongue. Oh! that the seed may spring up, and bear fruit. I endeavour to pour out all my grievances before the Lord. I know that He hears my prayer, and am resolved to tell Him the worst of myself, as far as His grace enables me to discover it. I am decidedly resolved to be the Lord's, for I can obtain solid happiness from no other source; but the name of Jesus is a cordial to my soul. More faith, and more love, is all I want.—How frail I am! Conversing with a friend as I returned from the house of God, I uttered an unnecessary word, and immediately felt that I had grieved the Spirit of God. As soon as an opportunity of retiring presented itself, I poured out my soul before the Lord, ashamed that I should so often offend Him, whom I desire to love and obey above all things.—In my class I professed the enjoyment of the sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit; and, blessed be God, though I hold the blessing feebly, I do hold it; but the cry of my soul is, fill me with all the life of God."

[The following lines, written after reading a piece in favour of snuff and tobacco, will be edifying to smokers.]

While some prefer the quid, and some the smell;
There are who think that smoke doth both excel,
I smile to see these votaries so misled,
And think their several tastes are idly bred.
Perchance one, here and there, may virtue find,
In 'bacco' fumes, when much perplexed with wind.
But sure, the human frame, frail as it is,
Is not so subject to the qualms as this;
Three times a day to need the burning herb,
To cure the evils which so much disturb.
'Tis since the fall, an idol demon tries,
By sophisms deep, to close the wise man's eyes.
While musing on the sacred word, they plead
The blessing of the mind composing weed;
Thus join their idol with Divinity,
Whose mandate is, "No other God but Me."
But hear them plead their failing cause again;
"It recreates the powers to work amain,
Dispels the phlegm, which on the stomach lay,
And fits us for the labours of the day."
But will not prayer, and reading recreate,
Much more than smoking thus in idle state?
And exercise effect more lasting good,
If they complain of undigested food I
O be resolved, ye smoking sinners, do
Forsake your idol, and your God pursue:
Deny yourselves, and nobly bear the cross,
Esteeming all for Christ but dung and dross.

"At the Prayer-meeting Mr. Spence gave a short address on the subject of entire sanctification: my faith was so much encouraged, I could scarcely refrain from speaking aloud; and while on my knees I exclaimed, many times, before the Lord, 'I will believe' On my way home the words were applied, 'Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you'—At the Acomb lovefeast, I confessed that I could now give God all my heart. I did not feel any doubt in so doing, although the enemy suggested, 'you are deceived' Lord, if I am deceived, speak for Thyself; for I am determined to be Thine. Here, in Thy presence, I humbly beseech Thee to set the seal upon Thy own work. I dare believe. Let the transaction be ratified in heaven. I am set apart for Thee.

"Newton. Having a little time to wait for the coach, I sauntered into the churchyard. The solemnity of the place suggested the following lines, while I stood and pondered."

Still solitary place! Here silence reigns;
Here griefs are hushed; none ever here complains.
Here no ambition agitates mankind,
Within the limits of a vault confined,
Around the whisp'ring breeze, impressive, steals,
And on my listening soul instruction seals.
The solemn truth sinks deep within my breast;
I, mortal now, immortal soon, shall rest.
Ended my journey, with its hopes and fears,
My deep solicitudes, and silent tears.
Under some neighbouring sod, my bones will lie,
And wait the summons from the flaming sky:
When ocean, trembling in its briny bed,
And earth, upheaving, shall restore her dead.
Roused by the voice, that heaven and earth shall shake,
At that momentous period, I must wake,
Among my fellow clay unknown before,—
Must wake with horror, or with joy adore.
Oh, wondrous scene! most awful! most august!
Th' event is certain, and the purpose just.
The Judge's eye will pierce the inmost soul,
Each hidden record of the past unroll;
No word, no motive, no minuter thought
Escape exposure, into judgment brought.
Oh! that these solemn truths, with equal force,
Might rule my soul, throughout its earthly course;
That every scene, and every hour, may give
True witness then, to God alone I live!
So with the saints in glory shall I rise,
To hear the welcome plaudit from the skies,
"Well done." Unbounded love! no tongue can tell
What transports then my ravished heart shall swell.
A worm! an atom! less than nothing I!
By love redeemed from death, and raised on high.

"Wrote a few lines to Miss B. concerning her soul's welfare. She is very obliging, but destitute of the 'one thing needful.'—Called upon Mrs. Farrar—we prayed together. How much happier should we live if the time, so often wasted in chit-chat, were occupied in prayer. Help me, O God, against this soul-robbing evil. I found it profitable.—The Lord is teaching me the happy lesson of telling all my heart to Him. With respect to domestic grievances, I do not feel them to be so great a burden as formerly. My conscience feels tender, and though not always equally happy, I find prayer sweet, and the Bible my delightful study. This is Thy doing, to Thee be all the praise.—Passing a person, who was standing at his own door, I felt prompted to speak to him about his soul. I turned back, and did so, inviting him to go to the Chapel: but, alas! I seemed as one that told an idle tale.—I took tea with Mr. T. While he was at prayer, my soul was so lifted up, I could scarcely help expressing my feelings aloud. What a heaven, is the enjoyment of God! Prayer is the life of my soul, and the delight of my heart; yet I have to mourn over my weakness in consenting to conversation, which some may think very proper; but which does not tend to edification. I want to do all for eternity.—We received a turkey and a basket of fruit from a friend. I note this, as it would appear, the Lord is resolved, we shall lose nothing by entertaining his servants;—a preacher with his wife and three children, strangers to us, having come, as they had no other place of refuge, to stay with us till Monday. 'Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for some have entertained angels unawares.'—A very stormy day; but where Thy presence is how delightfully calm. The Lord does not leave me notwithstanding all my failings. I am nothing; I can do nothing; yet, thank God, He has turned the bent of my heart to his testimonies, and it is the delight of my soul to obey Him.—On my return from the Lord's house, I dedicated myself afresh to God; fully surrendering my soul and body, my time and talents, to His service. Praised be His name, He ratifies the surrender 'on the mean altar of my heart.' I feel the inward witness, 'Ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you.' O God, I accept Thee as my Sanctifier, my Sovereign, to govern and direct.—I have many mercies to record, among which health is not the least; but of higher value than that, are the favour and the peace of God. Lately I have experienced solid happiness in Christ, sweet access to the throne, and delight in the ways of God. In visiting the poor, and also in acting in the capacity of prayer-leader, I have had some doubts whether I was in the path of duty. I laid the matter before God, willing to work for Him, or to be laid aside for Him. On opening my bible, just before I retired to rest, my attention was arrested by these words, 'They shall not labour in vain, nor bring forth for trouble; for they are the seed of the blessed of the Lord, and their offspring with them. And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and whiles they are yet speaking, I will hear.' Blessed promises! They appeared very applicable.—By the midnight mail, my husband was unexpectedly called from home, on very precarious business. May he be preserved from everything injurious to his soul, however unfavourable to his health. A day of much excitement, scarcely time for reflection; but in private it was sweet to pour out my soul before God. I am desirous to know how my husband proceeds with the business he has in hand. To know that the Lord keeps him, and gives him health, would be a cause of thanksgiving. He is in Thy hands, Thou Preserver of men, save him fully. For some weeks past, I have been reckoning myself 'dead indeed unto sin;' but the last few days my children have been very noisy; I have thus been under the necessity of speaking loud, and sometimes felt a little hasty in reproving them. This has awakened doubts of the reality of my experience. Unfold to me, O Lord, Thy truth, for to the test of Thy word, would I subject my life and practice."

VII.

TEMPLE SERVICE.

"HOLINESS BECOMETH THINE HOUSE, O LORD, FOR EVER."—Ps, xciii. 5.

"Be ye clean that bear the vessels of the Lord." The command applied not only to the priest, who served at the altar, but to the Levite, to whom the charge of the sacred vessels was especially committed. The inference is, that the humblest officer in the Church of Christ ought to possess, above every other, this essential qualification, holiness. Purity is the secret of the Church's power. Wealth, talent, learning, honour, are but instruments, which she can use; but this is her life, because it is the breath of the Spirit of God, giving vitality to her members, and energy to her action. God can use the "weak things," and "the foolish," and "things that are despised, yea, and things that are not;" but he cannot use the things that are unclean, unless it be for purposes of shame and dishonour. When will the Church learn this lesson? And when will she adopt the divine standard of judgment, and estimate men according to their resemblance to Christ? So soon as she shakes herself from the dust, she shall go forth in the majesty of her strength, and become the admiration of the earth. Mrs. Lyth aimed at purity. She had passed the region of shadows, and entered the unclouded light of the Divine presence; but that very light, by its intensity, only revealed more distinctly the sinfulness of her nature; and created an absorbing desire after perfect holiness: she was thus prepared by God for the service of His temple.

"1822.—In our private band-meeting, Mrs. W. mentioned a singular circumstance. Being restless during the night, and troubled with wandering of thought, she entreated the Lord to impress upon her mind that which might be profitable. She fell asleep, and in a little time awoke with the words, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.' Sleeping a second time, she awoke, with 'Precious in the sight of the Lord, is the death of his saints.' A third time she slept, and the words, suggested on awaking, were 'Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labours, and their works do follow them.' A fourth time she awoke, and the passage presented to her mind was, 'The end of all things is at hand; be ye therefore sober and watch unto prayer.'—My soul is especially excited to prayer. In myself I see no good thing, but many imperfections, and much weakness; yet I hang upon the Lord Jesus, and thirst for a deeper baptism of the Spirit. A few lines from Cousin E. inform me, that dear Ann, given up by her medical attendants, is rejoicing in the prospect of eternal glory. Praise the Lord. Though separation is painful, we cannot but rejoice in the blessed anticipation of seeing each other again. It only remains for me to be faithful.—My patience has been exercised by one of my children. I scarcely know how to act, so as neither to be too indulgent, nor too severe. O Thou, who hast promised, that crooked things shall be made straight, and the rough, places plain, give ear to my supplication, and in this matter point out the path of duty, that at the last, I may present my whole family and say, 'None that Thou gavest me are lost.'—While engaged in prayer, my soul was blessed in such a manner, that for some time I could say nothing but Glory, Glory. Surely this was a foretaste of the bliss, which shall never end.—A letter informed me that cousin Ann wished to see me; so on the following morning, putting myself under the protection of God, who kindly took care of me, I left home. While travelling the spirit of prayer on behalf of those, whom I had left behind, was sweetly poured upon me. I found my dear cousin suffering from great debility; but living by faith on the Son of God. A sweet smile played upon her face, like the soft radiance of the setting sun. Grace shone in every feature of her faded, but still lovely countenance. She tells me, it is twelve years next October, since the Lord spoke peace to her soul. We were kneeling in company with her sister, and the servant, by her bedside. I was engaged in prayer at the time, and for this reason she wished particularly to see me. Surely this is the mark whereby the world knoweth us, 'because we love one another.'—As I was distributing tracts, my heart was pained within me to see how many were employed on the Sabbath morn; and on my return, I wept to think that, in the face of day, they could break a well-known command of God. Lord, open their eyes that they may see. The spirit of my Ann has taken its flight to the paradise of God, leaving many sorrowing friends. Our loss is her gain; but nature feels.—In company with Mrs. R. I collected for the Missions. We were wearied; but when I recollect, how much more wearisome the work of the Missionary, cheerfully will I undertake this labour of love; with a view to alleviate their toil, and facilitate their success. I proposed to Mrs. W. and Mrs. R. to meet me at the throne of grace, every morning the following week, to pray for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit: we all agreed. The appointed hour has been blessed to me; I have dwelt under the shadow of the Almighty, and felt such a resignation to the will of God, as I never felt before.—I was providentially led to see Miss B. In our younger days we were companions; but in the course of time we have become estranged. She is now on the bed of affliction, and wept while mother and I prayed. She requested me to go again; if I can be useful to her, O Lord, open the way, and speak by me.

—I went to see a man walk upon the river, which occasioned the following lines:—

I saw the man, with wondrous skill.
Walk on the yielding stream at will,
Sustained by human art:
Not so did Peter, when to Thee
He stepped upon the rolling sea;
Faith did the power impart.

So while on life's tempestuous wave,
With timid steps I walk; O! save,
Reach out Thy hand to me:
My courage swells, while Thou art near,
Nor foe nor accident I fear,
Though wild the billows be.

But safely on through peril glide,
Supported on the dangerous tide,
By looking unto Thee:
Impossibilities shall yield,
And faith a solid pathway build.
Across the stormy sea.

I have had some family exercises;—scarce worth a thought, if I had more of the mind of Christ; yet I have been able to tell my care to God, and at his footstool, I have got rid of my burden. I enjoy the soul's calm sunshine.—When I consider how time slips away, and how little I effect for my own improvement, and that of others, I am ashamed. My life appears so blotted, I can only say, 'God be merciful to me a sinner;' but praise God, I can rely with greater confidence than formerly upon his promises. I know I am his child, and my happiness is in doing the will of my Father.—Mrs. Taft is with us. O that the disappointment she has met with, (the refusal of the chapel,) may turn out rather to the furtherance of the Gospel, and more especially for the benefit of my family.—I understand she spoke in the school-room with energy and power; and at the prayer-meeting which followed, my Eliza was restored to the favour of God. Thus the Lord out of seeming evil has brought good to my child.—The one thing is daily the object of my desires and efforts. I want more clearly to exhibit the fruits of righteousness in my ordinary conversation. Being naturally of a hasty temperament, I need constantly to be baptized with the meek, and lowly spirit of Jesus. Grant me, O Lord, my heart's desire. I do feel Thy sanctifying presence, but O how I long for more.—The Lord is working amongst the children. My Richard, at the new School vestry, felt the drawings of the Spirit; and William, I am told, cried out aloud. O that these early impressions may come to maturity. My soul, praise the Lord for these beginnings. How shall I best foster these tender plants: Lord, teach me to cherish the good, and to correct the errors of youthful feeling. My father and mother have entered the house we have built for them adjoining our own. We had a prayer-meeting on the occasion, which was a blessed season to my soul."

"1823.—For the last time, I visited Jane S. She was scarcely recollected; but after a little time she requested me to pray. She seemed very much in earnest. I endeavoured to point her to Jesus. For a moment she revived; but in the night she died. So in one short week, two are gone out of my husband's class.—This morning I felt great power in prayer, and an ardent desire for full deliverance from every besetment. In this spirit I entered into my family, resolving to watch with all diligence; but alas! imperfection is stamped upon all I do,—so many wanderings, useless words, and deviations from the perfect law of God, that, were it not for the blood of Jesus, all hope of heaven would be excluded. Yet in private I had sweet communion with God. I have derived profit from the perusal of Lady Maxwell's Journal. Some points of her experience correspond with my own: this encourages me. Nothing seems so desirable, nothing so amiable, as momentary living to God.—Mr. McKitrick brought me Mrs. King's class-paper, requesting me to take charge of the class until she recovered. I durst not refuse it, although I felt my inability very great. My mental struggles since have been many. It is suggested I am influenced by pride; that I imagine I can do better than another; only by casting myself upon God, and resolving to leave myself in His hands, I find help. O that I were satisfied, I am called to this work! By any means discover this to me, and fit me by Thy grace; then gladly will I be spent for Thee, who gavest Thyself an offering for me.—I went in much fear to meet Mrs. K's little flock, among whom I felt liberty; but afterward, my uneasy state of mind returned. O God, since all things are possible to Thee, subdue my heart; let all within and all without submit to Thy sovereign sway. One of the members requested me to read the last chapter of the first Epistle of Peter, which I have done several times, and found it sweet."

As Mrs. K. never recovered, and indeed died shortly after, Mrs. Lyth's appointment to the office of leader was confirmed; an arrangement, which, notwithstanding her deep sense of her own insufficiency, met with the cordial approbation of the class. One of the oldest members, who was present on the occasion of her first meeting them, says, "I well recollect, with what profound humility, and with what fear and trembling, she undertook the office of class-leader. While she was confessing to us, that she felt utterly unworthy, and unfit for such a responsibility, my heart rejoiced, that we were privileged with the appointment of one, possessed of so many excellencies. She said, if the Lord had anything for her to do, she durst not refuse; that He had often employed very weak instruments to carry on His work; and added, "Oh! that He may use me for His glory! Friends, you must pray that the Lord may give me a double portion of His spirit, for I feel my own helplessness." Then, on her knees, she poured out her soul to God with great earnestness, that He would fully qualify her for the work which had been imposed upon her." Her own conviction of duty was however not so easily attained, and several entries occur like the following:—

"I again met Mrs. K's class, and found it very profitable to my own soul: yet I am not quite satisfied I am right. O make it fully known, and, if this is the path of duty, crown my feeble efforts.—None but the true Christian knows the sweets of communion with the Father, and the Son, through the blessed Spirit. 'Them that honour me I will honour, came sweetly to my mind yesterday; by which I was led to see, if I faithfully walk in His commandments, He will honour me with His presence, and clothe me with His free Spirit. While pouring out my soul in secret, the nearness I felt to Jesus is better felt than expressed;—unusual power to give my all to Him without any reserve, as far as I can judge of myself. Is this the work of entire sanctification? Set to Thy seal, O my God, let the enemy no more rob me of this jewel; but bear directly to my heart, the witness of Thy love.—I have had many visits from above, but not without interruptions. The use of more words than necessary has, on reflection, occasioned feelings of pain. Oh! when will all my powers be brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ.—My wedding day! Seventeen years I have worn the silken-chain; during the last, I have enjoyed more of the life and power of God, and now the sacred flame burns brightly on my heart. With respect to my marriage, I believe it was solemnized in the fear of God; and an increasing union exists between me and my dear companion. We have many a blessed interview with God, when shut in from all beside. Oh the goodness of God to me! His mercies have far exceeded my trials, and even out of my several sorrows He has brought my greatest blessings.—At Mrs. K.'s class the Lord graciously sustained me with His presence; my doubts respecting this work seem now to disperse, and unless I am deceiving myself, I am in the way of providence. I inquired of one of the friends, if any time was fixed to pray for the revival of the work of God, and am told, every Friday—fasting; hours of prayer; six, nine, and twelve in the morning, and three and six in the afternoon. By the help of God, I am resolved to join them. The Lord is blessedly with, me this evening."

TO MY HONOURED FATHER

ENTERING ON HIS EIGHTY-EIGHTH YEAR.

Bending with the weight of years,
See the hoary headed saint,
Rise above tormenting fears;
Suffer, but without complaint,

Ready, as a shock of corn,
For the Paradise above;
Golden fruits his age adorn,—
Fruits of holiness, and love.

Though the outward man decay,
Inward strength is daily given;
Nothing can his soul dismay,
Succoured by the God of heaven.

He, the wise man's laurel, wears;
In the path of wisdom found,
Lo! his hoary head appears
With unearthly glory crowned.

Borne on time's untiring wing,
Homeward fast his spirit flies;
Now the city of the King,
Flames upon his longing eyes.

Brighter, as the clouds recede,
Blaze its walls of spotless white;
Deeper, from the throne proceed,
Dazzling floods of purer light.

Every birthday, nearer hies
That unknown but welcome hour;
When the saint in triumph cries,
"I, through Christ, am conqueror."

"I went, by request, to visit a person who has long been confined to her bed. She knows something of God; but ah! how slight is the knowledge of even, professing Christians! After reading, and conversing with her, I proposed prayer; but the master of the house sat still. When we arose from our knees, I spoke freely and plainly to him of his sinful condition. O my God, if I was moved by Thee, fasten conviction upon his conscience.—I accompanied Mrs. K. to collect for the Clothing Society, and while our benevolent friends bestowed upon us the mammon of unrighteousness, the Lord blessed me with the true riches.—Having taken a little cold, I was dull of hearing, and afraid that I should not be able to hear the members of my class in the evening. I betook myself to prayer, and the Lord graciously heard, and so far restored me, that I had no difficulty. My soul was like wax before the sun, while Jesus shone upon it.—My mind has been reproved for reproving. Lord, I thank Thee for Thy secret admonitions; forgive, and take all my powers under Thy control. I called to see Mr. Spence; his natural powers decline, but heaven beams on his countenance. He said, while he was putting on his neckcloth, in the morning, he had been struck with the meagre and ghastly appearance he presented in the glass; but the sweet serenity of his soul compelled him to exclaim, 'Welcome old man! welcome declining age! welcome death!'—I spoke at the Prayer Leaders' lovefeast, but the enemy troubled me much afterward: however, this much I will affirm—to the grace of God I owe my all. I feel decided in my choice, hate sin, have the witness that I am a child of God, and enjoy the comforts of the Holy Ghost; but the clear evidence of entire sanctification I do not hold, though I believe I have many times received it, and for a short time held it; but, for want of boldly confessing the faith, have lost the blessed pearl. O for the baptismal flame."

In the summer of this year she visited the Rev. John Nelson, then stationed in Sheffield, to whom she was much attached. As was her constant practice, when released from the claims of domestic duty, she availed herself of every opportunity of doing, and getting good. Every day was a sabbath of religious privilege. The church, and the chapel, the social party and the sick bed, were made subservient to purposes of spiritual improvement. With reference to a party of friends, who were invited to meet her, she says, 'After tea the females being left alone, each of us prayed; this is a blessed way to cut off religious chit-chat.'

"Quarterly Fast. Mr. Haswell called upon me to pray, when the Lord was pleased to humble me; for which I would be truly thankful. Make me willing any way, only let my soul be brought into conformity with Thy will;—willing to be little, that Thou alone mayest be exalted. My nature is not willing to be thought little. During the day I felt a humble dependance upon Jesus."

ON OBSERVING A SIGN IN SHEFFIELD WORDED, "BRIDE CAKES AND FUNERAL BISCUITS."

Ah! is the bridal-day,
When festive pleasures meet,
The presage, but of swift decay,
Within the winding sheet?

What then is man at best?
A blooming,—fading flower;
Immortal, in a mortal vest,
The creature of an hour.

Well then may death be joined
Unto our festal days;
Well may our pleasures limit find
Within so short a space.

To seek eternal bliss
Within time's narrow span,
Is man's best int'rest;—only this
Can form the future man.

Let dying mortals then
Their foolish dreams forsake;
Unto their rest return again,
And Christ their refuge make.

Then, even timid youth
May smile upon the tomb;
And festive moments welcome truth,
Though clad in robes of gloom.

By Jesus' death, is broke
Death's dark and powerful spell;
And, while to Him by faith we look,
We know that all is well.

"While meeting the little company my soul was blest. O for spiritual discernment and grace, that I may be truly helpful to them, and deal faithfully. Visited a dying person who says, she dare not rest on Jesus;—yet HE is a tower."

ON THE DEATH OF POPE PIUS XIII.

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.

"This day in former years, I have hailed my dear father's stay among us; but now, he has left our dark abode to join his friends above; and this day, his death is to be improved by Mr. Hopkins New Street, and Mr. McKitrick, in Albion Street Chapel. For some weeks I have been under the chastening hand of God. My patience has been severely tested; but I am thankful, in the moments of severest trial, I have felt confident that not a stroke would be laid upon me more than would conduce to my real good. Though the waves roll around me, I can venture myself on Jesus. Here I find firm footing; here is my resting-place; and in the precious atonement of the Redeemer, my soul enjoys sweet repose.—I have been suffering from sickness, but have had many precious moments while musing upon my bed. Through mercy, I am again able to sit up, but am very deaf. This has occasioned a train of reasoning. I have been led to inquire, whether the Lord in His providence intends to depose me from meeting His people. But in this, and in every thing else, I would resignedly say, 'Thy will be done.'—The mercy of the Lord is again repeated. The deafness, from which I have suffered, is greatly removed. Bless the Lord, who can not only make the deaf to hear, but the heart to praise.—My little Anna, after being lent to me for seventeen days, and finding nothing on earth to court her stay, has closed her eyes on time, and opened them upon heaven. So uncertain is earthly happiness. Perhaps my heavenly Father, more securely to engage my heart, has kindly resumed the gift; and transplanted to a better soil the flower, whose charms were insensibly stealing my affections. I anticipated the delightful task of rearing this tender plant to be a future comfort; but Thou, O Lord, art righteous in all Thy ways. My feelings have been peculiarly acute, but to Thee, O Lord, my heart is known. Teach me due submission to Thy will; and as, by this bereavement, I shall, if restored to health, have more leisure, may I dedicate it to Thee.—While Miss O. was praying with me, I had such a blessed view of the inhabitants of the world above, that for a moment I seemed to be there. At the Class I was led to see the privilege of living by faith every moment. Since then, I have been able to realize present blessings. The perusal of one of Mr. Fletcher's letters has been of service to me; also the recollection of what my father used to say; 'I ask in faith, and bring the blessing away with me.' Surely this is our Christian birthright. Faith honours God, and 'without faith it is impossible to please God.' Thanks be unto Thee, I can now live by faith; but I want to lose myself in Thee, Thou vast unfathomable sea of love! Covered with imperfections, I want to be plunged in the precious blood of Jesus. Precious Name! Precious blood! the sweetest cordial of the soul. I have had such a view of the way of faith as I cannot express; so simple, yet so divine! Such a sweet deliverance from doubt! While I feel myself nothing, I have power to apprehend God as my sanctifying Saviour. What has the world to compare with this?—I rose before six to hold communion with my God. Art Thou my God? Yes; by that exalted name, I feel Thou art mine. My soul longs for Thee. When shall I wake up after Thy likeness? I have this evening met the precious charge committed to my care. The responsibility seems greater than ever. O may I watch as one having to give account.

"Sinnington. Nature now resumes its beauty, but the removal of my beloved Ann, and the absence of my dear Elizabeth, make a mighty chasm. Well; soon these separations will cease, and my freed spirit soar to mansions of unclouded bliss. I have been tempted by the enemy; but hold fast my confidence: may the faith, which purifies the heart, sanctify my lips, that I may tell of all Thy wondrous love.—I visited Mrs. B. a second time; she is encouraged to believe the Lord will save her, for Christ's sake-without any merit of her own. Her husband was more cordial than I expected from the account I had heard of him; the tears started in his eyes while I conversed with him. I feel I am employed as I ought to be, when in this way I render the least service to a fellow-creature; but O how poor and feeble are my efforts! Since I came here my mind has been variously affected; sometimes clear, sometimes clouded; sometimes in prayer I have experienced unusual liberty, and again a degree of coldness; but always a sense of the approbation of God, with a desire to be entirely conformed to His will.—Part of the day was spent in bidding the friends farewell, and in visiting some of the poor; and now I have finished my visit to this place, I can say, I have been endeavouring to please God, and in some measure, benefit my fellow creatures; but my performances have been so mixed, that I am ashamed before the Lord. Nothing but the blood of sprinkling can wash away my defilement.—I went to the vestry after the evening service, and selected a place, where I thought I should not be observed; but the thought of the curse of Meroz, constrained me to leave my retired position. I resolved, if any opportunity presented itself, to engage in prayer; and truly God poured upon me the spirit of grace and supplication.—This week I have paid a social visit both to Mrs. R. and Mrs. W. Praise the Lord, I came away uncondemned on account of anything I had said. This has not always been the case. I am thankful for the inward teaching of the Spirit; for the desire that every power of my body, as well as every affection of my soul, may be wholly consecrated to God. This is now my prayer.—I have been much affected to hear that an old man, whom I had intended to visit, died yesterday. O God, forgive the omission and help me to be faithful. I took an opportunity of seeing Mr. and Mrs. G., to converse with them on the necessity of salvation: let Thy spirit work. The Lord has been showing me what a poor empty creature I am; but gives me confidence in His promise. I can cast myself entirely upon Him, who is willing to save me to the uttermost. Glory be to God, my soul dares lay hold on Jesus, as my full, and all-sufficient Saviour.—This morning I gave Wm. B. an invitation to chapel; called on M.T.S., who is in trouble, and advised him to read the 112th Psalm; saw Esther S., who is fast declining, but seems to desire nothing so much as union with God; also visited J.C., who is sick, but happy in God.—The means of grace are refreshing, but these are not the only occasions on which I get blessed. No; while my hands are engaged with my ordinary duties, I can look up and call God Father.—My husband presented me with a new visiting book, the old ones having been called in after the death of Mr. Spence; and the whole concern placed in the hands of a committee. Having formerly felt my insufficiency, I have sought help at the throne of grace, and entreated the Lord, as the committee have thought proper to send me a book, that He would give me a word in season, and His blessing with my efforts.—The souls committed to me have been laid very near my heart. Conscious of my own weakness, I asked the Lord to put His word into my mouth, and bring it to my remembrance; and to His honour I here record it, that I have never experienced greater liberty.—In the prayer-meeting I was silent, and felt condemned in consequence; and on Saturday night the conviction of duty was still deeper, but still resisted, How much I need forgiveness! As the result, barrenness came over my soul, which continued part of the next day. The recollection of having petitioned God to take my soul and body's powers, and then to refuse to employ my tongue in His service, although He had promised to put words into my mouth, fills me with shame and humiliation.—For some days I have been hanging on Christ by naked faith, without much sensible comfort; yet have felt as fully resolved to live to the glory of God as when bathing in the beams of His love. To-night the sacred fire burns brightly 'on the mean altar of my heart.'—I have many mercies to be thankful for, though not recounted here. A moderate share of health is not the least; my class increases, my family is well; I am surrounded with friends; and above all, I enjoy peace of mind. 'What shall I render to the Lord for all His benefits?'"

The rapid moments fleet away;
And on their tireless wings,
Death rides, majestic in his sway,
Subjecting Popes and Kings.

"1825.—My daughter being out to tea, I called to take her to chapel; but the solicitations of her friends had induced her to relinquish her intention: so I left her. But my mind was much pained; the case of Eli forcibly impressed my mind. I think I too easily yielded to what my better judgment condemned. I need the forbearance of my heavenly Father, and wisdom to direct my children aright. I see great danger in mixing with the world, and the company of outward professors is equally perilous.—While Mr. Stoner was describing the character of those, who have received Christ, my soul responded to the truth: I felt the reality of the change in my own heart. The evidence of the sanctifying grace of God has of late been more distinct; yet never have I been more deeply convinced of my own nothingness, nor of the exceeding riches of the divine grace.—This eventful month (February) is this year ushered in by answers to prayer. Having a cold, and being dull of hearing, I entreated the Lord, if he had called me to meet his people, to give me power to hear. He graciously condescended to my request and blessed me among them. Four new converts stepped in. O for wisdom to instruct them.—I had a very pleasant visit at Miss C.'s. Mr. Stoner, Sammy Hick, and two or three female friends were there. We got to know one another's hearts upon our knees, and the Lord lent an attentive ear.—My body is feeble, but my soul pants after God. I want totally to abandon self, that Christ may be all in all. He is the chief object of my affection, but I want to lay firmer hold upon His omnipotent strength. It is faith that brings the power to exhibit the graces of the Spirit, and to act acceptably in the sight of God."

CHRISTIAN FRIENDSHIP.

Friendship hails the rising joy,
And shares the falling tear;
Breathes the sympathetic sigh,
And swells the common prayer.
How it soothes the troubled breast!
This charity divine
Breathes the balm of heavenly rest.
—May such a friend be mine.

"After my morning duties are discharged, I intend to devote the Thursday of every week to the Lord, so long as health and opportunity are afforded me; especially in visiting the members of my class, ministering to the sick, and attending the school. I went out feeling that I was the engaged servant of the Lard, and he has graciously blessed my endeavours. One whom I visited is earnestly seeking the Lord; and another, who has long been indebted to my husband, gave me a sovereign towards the amount-unsought, unasked, and unexpected!"

Father of all, and God of grace,
Whose ever watchful eye
Surveys the depth and breadth of space;
Yet sees the sparrow fly:
Behold my heart—it pants for Thee;
The temple for Thyself prepare;
There let Thy throne established be,
Thy name engraven there.

"Much against my inclination, I paid a formal visit to ——; providentially I was seated near a friend, who was willing to converse on things conducing to holiness.—Among the Lord's poor my soul is often blessed. This day, the day I have set apart for God, I wrote to Miss B. respecting the Sunday class; and, after arranging my domestic affairs, set forth to visit Mrs. D., then Mary H., who was sitting up reading her Bible. As soon as I entered, she began to tell me, that a great change had taken place in her views and feelings; and that prayer and reading the word, were her greatest delight. I asked her how long she had experienced this; she replied, 'About a month. You had been praying with me; many things you said fastened upon my mind:' then, laying her hand upon her heart, she added, 'I felt such a weight here, I knelt down to pray; and after getting into bed again, it seemed as if a voice spoke to me, 'Mary, the door is open:' from that time I have felt such peace of mind, and pleasure in reading the Bible, as I never did before.' Lord, Thou art able to judge of this statement, and bringest men to Thyself, by ways and means unknown to human sense. This occurred on the first Thursday I devoted to God. Lord, make me faithful in the discharge of the trust reposed in me.—I am this morning left alone; yet not alone. I feel a blessed sense of the divine presence, which enables me to anticipate my heavenly inheritance; but not for any merit in me: oh no! on Jesus hangs my hope. To me belongeth shame and confusion of face; for my best doings are polluted, and all my good is from Himself. Praised be His name for the change effected in my mind. The saints of God are my delight, the word of God my treasure, and communion with God my greatest joy.—Through mercy, although feeble in body, I am better than during last week. Yet even then I enjoyed peace, and when weakest, my faith has been strongest; I could commit all into His hands; still I see myself a poor empty creature. It is all of grace, through Jesus. Precious name!"

Afflictions, from Thy gracious hand,
Unmingled blessings prove;
The rod, prepared at Thy command,
Displays a Father's love.

Beneath its weight, submissive, Lord,
Upward to Thee I look;
"Expect according to Thy word,"
A blessing in the stroke.

May every pain be sanctified;
And every grace improve;
Till freed from dross, like silver tried,
My soul is only love.

No tear shall then bedew my eyes,
No grief my bosom swell;
The note of gratitude shall rise,
Thou hast done all things well.

"My dear mother has had a fall, and has been much indisposed in consequence. I am thankful to have her so near me, as it is a pleasure to perform my duty as a child. In this, and every other relation, may I be found faithful.—I rose very early, as I felt concerned about my dear mother; and went to her room-door, between three and four o'clock; but as Mary had fastened it within, I could not obtain admittance. However, I betook myself to prayer, and commended her to the Lord. This passage was strongly impressed upon my mind: 'The Lord will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing; Thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness.'—I spent the day at H., in the company of some friends not decidedly devoted to God. The Lord kept me, and I am thankful I came home without condemnation. I was favoured with an opportunity of speaking with each of them respecting their spiritual state, and the things of eternity.—For some time I have been surrounded by hurry and excitement, and longing for a little retirement. At length, in a way I did not expect, I am in part secluded from my family. In this I am constrained to acknowledge the mercy of God to an undeserving worm. Brought apparently to the grave's edge, I have been refreshed with His presence, and had power to cast myself upon His fatherly love. The enemy assaults me; but aware of my own weakness I venture, powerless as I am, upon the boundless merits of Jesus."

How sweet is still retirement! How it calms
The mind, and aids reflection! Here my soul,
Unfetter'd, soars to converse with its God.
I hear his Spirit whisp'ring round me now;
And love, and gratitude subdue my heart.
Yes, Solitude! I love thee, and enjoy
In thy sequester'd depths, the bliss, in crowds
I seek in vain. My God! my only joy!
Yet, O blest Saviour, when Thy voice is heard,
Amid the tumult springs a sudden calm,
And heaven-born peace pervades my happy soul.

"A situation has offered for Richard, which we have hesitated to accept or refuse, wishful to do right, and afraid of doing wrong. In this dilemma, we cast ourselves at the footstool of mercy, my husband and mother uniting with me, and were fully enabled to roll our care upon God, who wonderfully undertook for us. I believe we have done right."

IX.

MID-DAY TOIL.

"SEEK THAT YE MAY EXCEL TO THE EDIFYING OF THE CHURCH." 1 Cor. xiv. 12.

True religion is reproductive. A converted man will try to convert his neighbour; and the value of his own experience may in general be tested by the manner in which he uses his opportunities of doing good. So true is this, that the Saviour said, "He, that is not with me, is against me; and he, that gathereth not with me, scattereth abroad." An inactive Christian is a contradiction in terms; for he is no copy of his divine Master, who, morning, noon, and night, "went about doing good." All the Scriptural symbols of the kingdom of God are expressive of energetic action. The little cloud attracts to itself the moist particles of the atmosphere, until it covers the whole heavens. The seed germinates, and grows, till it brings forth thirty, sixty, or a hundred fold. The leaven, which is but a minute form of vegetable life, developes itself in every direction by means of little cells; which again form others, and thus by continual reproduction, leavens the whole mass. What Is the lesson? Every heart in which the kingdom of God is set up, becomes a centre of life and action, exerting a healing influence upon the corrupting masses of society around. And oh! if every Christian professor were thus endued with power from on high, what could hinder the progress of the truth? How would it spread and prevail, until the whole world submitted to its sway!

Mrs. Lyth was imbued with the true spirit of Christian zeal. By letter, as well as by direct appeal; by secret intercessions with God, as well as by personal effort; she sought to win souls to Christ. Instant in season and out of season, few came in contact with her without feeling the force of her religious character; and her diligence in visiting the sick, the needy, and the careless, superadded to the faithful discharge of home duties, often affected her own health. In the Autumn of 1825, she spent some weeks at Hovingham, a small watering-place in the west of Yorkshire; but, though only delicate through recent sickness, she sought her relaxation in doing good. On the Sabbath she went round the village to invite the people to the Chapel, and on the week-day visited the afflicted and infirm. One case occurred here, which well illustrates her persevering charity, even under circumstances of discouragement. A young gentleman, educated for the legal profession, and the son of one, who at an earlier period had met with her in the same class, had come to seek relief in an advanced stage of consumption. She sought him out at a neighbouring village; but when announced, he refused to see her, and sent the not over polite message, that if it had been a clergyman, it would have been another thing. However the hostess, who was a Methodist, said, if she would come at such an hour, she would be able to obtain an interview, as he went out riding every day, and was obliged to pass through her sitting-room. She went at the time specified, and for the purpose of introduction took with her a book, which she offered to lend him. He just turned over a few of the leaves, and not finding it to his taste, returned it, saying, she might take it back. Nothing disheartened, she talked with him about his mother, and her anxiety for his salvation; until at length she prevailed upon him, though not without a degree of reluctance, to allow her to pray with him. In a few days he was taken so much worse, that he was obliged to return home; and with the view of obtaining another interview, she wrote a letter, which she took to him, with the request that he would kindly forward it, as soon as he arrived in York. This he courteously engaged to do. On parting she said, "Well, sir, as you are going to return, I must say farewell; perhaps we shall never see each other again." "What," he replied, "do you think I am going to die?" "No sir," she returned, "but neither you nor I seem likely to live very long." The nail was fastened in a sure place. Immediately on her return to York he sent for her, saying to his mother, "You know whom I want; she must come every day." The account of the visit is given in her own words. "I called upon Mr. ——; and am thankful to find a blessed change in his spirit. I read to him the eighth chapter of Romans. He cried aloud, and requested me to pray with him, which I did; then his mother, then I, then a stranger. Truly it was a blessed time; such as they professed never to have experienced before. My soul felt the divine influence." These visits were continued, until, in a few weeks, he exchanged mortality for life. The last notice of him is, "I saw Mr.——, whom I found in a blessed state of mind. As his outward strength decays, his inward man is renewed day by day; his hope blooms with immortality. When I was coming away, and bidding him farewell, in hope of meeting him again in heaven, he replied, 'I have not a doubt of it.' I entertained the hope of seeing him again on earth, but on Saturday night he died: so I must now urge my way to meet him at the right-hand of God."

We continue our extracts:

"I find, that unnecessary conversation, even with religious persons, and on lawful subjects, has a tendency to destroy the fervour of my spirit.—Mrs. R, met the dear little company; the power of God was generally felt. I proposed that we should meet every day at the throne of grace, to pray especially for the salvation of some amongst us, as well as for our own prosperity; and desired as many as approved to signify it by lifting the hand, which was done by all. I have had some blessed seasons while interceding on this account.—I was pressed in spirit to visit the speechless man. After pointing him to the sinner's only refuge, I knelt down; when the Lord shed upon me such an unusual degree of the spirit of grace and supplication, that I was fully convinced the man was blessed. On rising, I asked him, if he believed the Lord would save him, to lift up his hand, which he did. I asked him to repeat the sign, if he felt happy. This he also did. I am the more encouraged, as, on a former occasion, I had solicited the sign in vain. My soul praised the Lord on his account, and I came home rejoicing."

Farewell departed day! farewell for ever!
From earth alone, thy flight, my soul can sever.
My hope is anchored on the 'Rock of ages;'
The storm in vain with fury round me rages.
Farewell ye passing cares! though pain and sorrow
May be my lot to-day, joy beams to-morrow:
Within the veil, my soaring faith has entered;
And all my happiness in Christ is centered.

"A precious day to me. The Lord enabled me to witness to the truth before the great congregation.—I paid Mr. Stoner and his bride a visit. He would have me pray a blessing on their union; but I did not feel the same liberty I found in praying with the speechless man a little after. He again lifted up his hand when asked if he believed the Lord would save him. I went to see an afflicted person in the hospital; a friend was reading to her; but when I entered, she ceased, seeming wishful to hear what I had to say. As the Lord enabled me I urged upon them the necessity of salvation. Before I came away the number of listeners was increased to seven. The Lord gave me liberty of utterance, and they earnestly pressed me to renew my visit. If this is from Thee, O Lord, open my way. The afflicted person, whom I have visited several times before, professes to have found peace more than a week ago. Another of them wept, because she found out she wanted something she did not possess. Upon the whole the Lord appears to have directed my visit. May it be followed by a permanent blessing."

"1826. This afternoon was employed in seeking out the necessities of the poor. On my return home I felt I had done my duty, but nothing more. I can trust in nothing but Christ for salvation.—All I do and say, seems poor and insignificant. I want greater power to live to God; watching against the assaults of the enemy, guarding against self, repelling vain thoughts, living a moment at a time, praying always. I know this is possible; for 'all things are possible to him that believeth.' Oh for living faith.—Visited a poor afflicted widow. After reading and praying, she began to pray of her own accord; and shortly broke out into praise, in a manner that astonished me; but it was the Lord's doing. She expressed her confidence in such terms that I could not doubt the truth of her confession.—Mr. Slack divided Miss Bentley's class. What will be the result? [In consequence of Miss B.'s indisposition, the class had been met by Mrs. Lyth for some time; and had so much increased that division became necessary.] If I live till next Sunday I must take my share of it. But who is sufficient for these things? Anoint me, O Lord, with fresh oil. Make fresh discoveries of Thy love. Breathe the Holy Ghost. Inspire the living fire. Furnish me out of Thy treasury with arguments to defeat the devil, and plead the cause of truth. Armed with Thy power, I feel willing to be the hand, or the foot, only souls are saved, and Thou art glorified. I was sent for by a member of Miss B.'s class, who was very ill. The Lord was pleased to bless her while I was with her; so that clasping her hands she shouted, several times, 'Glory be to God.' As I returned home it was sweetly brought to my mind, 'Inasmuch as ye did it to the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto Me.' The infinite fulness of God surpasses all my thought;—a breadth without a limit, a length without a termination, a height without a summit, and a depth without a bottom. How I grieve that anything else should occupy my thought! for sure I am, He is the only bliss on earth designed for man to know. Two days I have been begging for the new Chapel, and still I am requested to canvass the opposite side of Walmgate. Lord, if this is the way Thou choosest to humble my pride, make me willing to be the hand, or the foot, to help on Thy cause.—At the close of the class, E. came to me, and by her silent, yet expressive, countenance said, 'pray for me.' We continued a little time longer, but she did not obtain her heart's desire. Lord, forgive our little faith.—My mother and I started for Sinnington. During the journey my soul rested in Jesus; and since our arrival I have had power to look up through nature to nature's God; a gift not afforded to every one because of blindness of heart. While cousin Elizabeth and I were united in prayer, the Lord poured upon me such a blessing, with the words, 'Ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you,' as I cannot express. I earnestly long for the salvation of the inhabitants of this village. Took tea with Mr. B. Many dainties, yet I have greater satisfaction in visiting the sick than in gratifying the palate. How much need have we to watch in every thing! O keep me ever on my guard, and watching unto prayer.—My birthday. Three years ago I was in Sheffield, and there resolved to devote myself to God; and ever since, I have been endeavouring to do it. Still I am but a dwarf in growth, yet will I not be unthankful for what I am. I feel the peace of God in my soul, with an increase of those fruits that spring from inward religion. To God be all the glory. The more I possess of this divine power, the less I see in myself. O how great is the love of God! To-day I would renew my covenant with Him. Here is my heart, O take and seal it; and let it be Thine for ever.

"Scarbro'. I took up my cross, and spoke to some old women; but oh! the darkness of the human mind! My medical adviser gives me permission to bathe. O Lord, give Thy blessing. I had a delightful view of the sea from the Spa. Nothing on earth is to my mind a more striking image of Almighty power than this uncontrollable mass of waters, to which He only can say,' Peace be still,' and it obeys Him.—When I went to the Chapel, I felt considerable drowsiness, and was afraid I should fall asleep; but I lifted up my heart, and entreated the Lord to remove it, which He graciously did, and I sat under His shadow with great delight.—After first giving myself into the hands of the Lord, and asking His blessing, I bathed in company with Miss B——t. Afterward, during prayer, while in the machine, the Lord graciously watered our souls. To me it was a refreshing season. I was truly overwhelmed with the precious love of Jesus; so that, when we parted, I went on my way rejoicing, and praising God for the rich baptism bestowed on His worthless dust.—My Richard was articled to Wm. Matterson, Esq., Surgeon. This has made me many errands to the Lord; and now, O God, I leave him in Thy hands: still offering up my earnest prayer that Thou wilt be his director and guide. I feel more anxiety for his soul than his earthly interests. 'The ways of a good man are ordered of the Lord.' I dare rest upon Thy word; therefore my earnest prayer is, that he may be a man of God. O blessed Saviour, let my fervent petition be heard. Save him, and fit him for Thy will.—This morning my waking thought was:

Rises the sun, his course to run,
In robes of golden light;
So may I put the Saviour on.
And walk with Him in white.

As flowers adorn the brow of morn,
And scent the fresh'ning air;
New graces, in my spirit born,
Diffuse their fragrance there.

"With feelings of gratitude, I resume my pen, which has been laid aside for some weeks, in consequence of domestic and personal affliction. God has once more restored us; and I would therefore acknowledge his loving-kindness. The rod has been needful, and the desire of my heart is, that it may be sanctified to me and mine. My dear mother continues ill, and much harassed by the enemy. O! for faith to take hold upon the Saviour: through Him we tread down our foes. I can venture upon his atoning blood. How vast my obligations, and how unprofitable my services, language fails to tell.—Mr. Bourne, an old friend of my honoured father, came and conversed awhile with us on the things pertaining to the Kingdom; then gave out a verse or two and prayed. On leaving, he said, 'Well, Mary, I shall remember you, and your family, and pray for you; and if I live to come to York again, I will come and see you. I felt more pleased than if he had given me gold and silver.—A day like spring; so clear, and warm, and sunny. I entered upon it with strong desires after God, and a sweet sense of his favour. His presence cheers my path, and smooths my way. Visited a man apparently near death; awakened, but O how dangerous to delay repentance until the last hour! After meeting my class, I called upon Mary D., to whom the Lord has graciously revealed himself; we rejoiced together while she spoke of the Lord's goodness."

"1827.—While interceding on behalf of my dear mother, I was encouraged by the application of several suitable promises, particularly, 'At evening time it shall be light.' The morning following she told me of the comfort she had experienced during the night. This must sustain my faith in future.—My husband has this week declined business. Thou God of love, still guide our path. Let us not 'miss our providential way;' but draw us nearer to Thyself.—Taking tea with a neighbour, whose salvation I have long desired, I felt it my duty to speak plainly with her on the subject; and was greatly encouraged by the inward voice of the Spirit, as also abundantly blessed while engaged in prayer. Whether I was of any use, I know not, but my work is with the Lord.—I went forth to visit the poor, not knowing whither to direct my steps. I begged guidance from above, and believe the Lord heard me; for, quite accidentally I was led to the bedside of a woman, who had wandered from God; but in her affliction had found out her error. She appeared much affected, and wished me to go again.—Called upon M.H., upwards of eighty. She quoted many promises, which were especially sweet to her. It is delightful to visit such; another whom I saw, has been a persecutor, but is now seeking salvation.—I called to see Mrs. Fettes, who has long been a mother in Israel. My spirit was refreshed, while she spoke of her experience of the things of God. Afterwards I saw Mrs. R.; with whom I had a blessed interview, especially at the throne of grace. My soul thirsts after God. I feel I am saved, but I want more.—Mr. Jos. Mortimer conducted a meeting at St. George's Chapel, in which sixteen or seventeen persons obtained the forgiveness of sins. One man, who had been struggling about two hours, witnessed a good confession before many witnesses. When asked how he felt, he said, 'I feel as if I were in heaven:' and indeed his countenance testified the happy change that had been effected. My two sons, Richard and William, were much upon my mind; but they remain in good desires. Lord, fasten conviction upon their hearts.—The power of God was eminently present in the band-meeting. My two daughters, went to the penitent form, seeking a full salvation; and there, glory be to God, they found it. O that they may hold fast their confidence. My heart bounded at the glad news, while tears gushed from my eyes.—In Fossgate school-room a great number were made happy in God; I am told about fifty, and among them three members of my class. Mrs. R——e and Mrs. R——n joined me, at the 'eve of evening,' to pray for them. Whether it is in answer to our prayers or no, thankful I am, prayer has been heard and answered.—This evening twenty-three young persons, who have received spiritual benefit, came to my little class. I felt myself very inadequate to instruct them;—complete poverty. Lord, help me. Mr. Mortimer accompanied me to visit a sick man, who, before we left, professed faith in Jesus. O the unbounded mercy of God! I want more of it. It is estimated that, during the week, not less than three hundred have been brought to God: and among them my Richard. Keep him, O Lord, near Thy side, and teach him all Thy will.—I feel cause of gratitude to God for His mercy to my family. William has this night been brought under divine influence; glory be to God;—a child of many prayers and many fears, but God has found him out. O keep him, blessed Jesus. Now all my family are brought to know God excepting little John; for whom I pray, and believe God hears.—Mr. Slack divided my little company (about seventy); allotting thirty of them to Miss G. O Lord, send us both prosperity.—I have lately felt the constant power to pray; and, though I have nothing in hand, I come to Jesus, and receive 'out of His fulness, and grace for grace.' On Thursday I wrote to my dear uncle, endeavouring, though feebly, to urge him to the pursuit of inward holiness. O Lord, bless him, for Christ's sake. I think I never felt a greater desire for the salvation of others. In this city the Lord still continues to carry on His work.—I accompanied Mr. M. to Heslington; we had a blessed little meeting. Three obtained the forgiveness of sins. Surely these are the latter days, when times of refreshing are promised. Every day souls are saved, and set apart for God. In our parlour last Tuesday, Mrs. F. found liberty, as also her daughter a few weeks ago.—Mr. Mortimer has been our guest the last month, and will remain another week. He is a man of God. Next week we expect Mr. Is. Clayton. I esteem it an honour conferred upon us to entertain the ministers of the Lord; but a much greater honour, that the Lord condescends to dwell in my heart. O may I ever walk, and dwell in Him.—After a week of indisposition, mingled with much excitement, I feel solid rest in God. We had a blessed time in the band-meeting. I think I was never more fully delivered from the creature. How sweet to live above the world! As I returned. Miss C. joined me, and informed me what the Lord has done for her soul. She believes He has taken full possession of her heart. I rejoiced while she imparted the blessed news. She expresses herself clearly. O may she ever hold it fast. I gave the following lines to Miss A. A. on her birthday; may they be made a blessing to her.

"How important the season! Big with eternal results!—born for eternity! Let it be a day of reflection, dedication, and prayer; and if the following lines prove any assistance to you, I shall be amply repaid.

Again the happy morn appears;
And nature, clothed in beauty, wears
Her wonted colours; and the rose
In all its pride of lustre glows;
Emblem of frail mortality!
It buds and blossoms but to die:
Too soon its glory fades away,
The passing pageant of a day.
In this fair flower, your image trace;
While youth sits smiling on your face,
Secure those virtues, which perfume
The life, when beauty fails to bloom—
The rich adorning first designed,
The vesture of a humble mind.
Be yours, in rich abundance given,
The treasure of an inward heaven.'
Hence virtue takes its deepest root,
And scatters fragrance in the shoot;
Blossoms when youth hath passed away,
Maturing for eternal day.
Reflect; the moment flies! 'tis gone!
The year its rapid course hath run!
What tidings have been winged to heaven,
Since first the precious boon was given?
Examine well; nor fear to know,
What truth may in its mirror show.
Is this, your twentieth birthday, blest
With more of wisdom in your breast?
Are your affections more divine?
Do you in Jesus' image shine?
More dead unto the world and sin,
Than when you did the year begin?
If fraught with truth our moments are,
And swift to heaven the tidings bear;
How should we weigh each act and word,
And wisely think, for thoughts are heard!
At this important period pause,
And unto God commit your cause;
With firm resolve and earnest prayer,
To meet Him in the clouds, prepare.
Him first, Him last, in all things own,
Whose wisdom guides in paths unknown;
Then, as the winged hours ascend,
Shall blessings fall upon my friend;
Till, full of years, matured you rise
To claim your birthright in the skies."

X.

WORKS OF MERCY.

"I DESIRED MERCY, AND NOT SACRIFICE."—Hosea vi. 6.

Mercy is the brightness of the glory of God;—the rainbow round about the throne; wherein the pure light of Deity, too effulgent for the eye of sinful man, is refracted, and presented under an aspect, which not only reveals his manifold wisdom, and perfections, but blends them in one bright manifestation of beauty, which even sinners may dare to contemplate, with wonder, admiration and love. Jesus Christ is the embodiment of the picture, being the brightness of the Father's glory, full of grace and truth. While He enters the lowly abodes of humanity, to contemplate its sorrows, and minister to its relief; the dazzling effulgence of divine majesty is veiled under a covering of flesh. Nevertheless, it is GOD who weeps with Martha, and Mary; who wipes away the widow's tear, and speaks words of comfort to the outcast. Incomprehensible Mystery! It is GOD incarnate, who suffers and dies upon the cross to purchase life for His enemies. What a picture is this! So far as it is capable of being reproduced, God loves to see it revived in His children; and never does a man become more truly great, or more faithfully represent his Master, than when, "putting on bowels of mercies," he seeks by every means to alleviate the sorrows and sufferings of his fellows. "Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." At this period, Mrs. Lyth's journal abounds with instances of her benevolent exertions, but a few of which we can transfer to these pages; yet they are ever recorded with an humble consciousness of her own unworthiness. She proceeds:—

"I want to improve all my moments for God, but, on reviewing the past, I find I need everywhere the blood of sprinkling. I am Thine, save me. I feel Christ is precious now. He has my whole heart, yet I want an increase of every grace, especially of patience, and meekness.—I feel my own poverty is great; be it so, let me only receive more largely out of Thy fulness. Humble, O humble me to the dust, but let Thy image shine in me. While I write I am awed by the presence of Deity. Oh let it continually surround me. Jonathan Saville met my dear little flock; I felt my own littleness, while he spoke to us.—I accompanied my husband to Barnbow, to invite Mr. Dawson to come and preach Dr. McAllum's funeral sermon; which he consented to do. To me it was a day of rich enjoyment, for my soul was happy in God. I recognized His presence in the heavens above, and the earth beneath; indeed everything spoke of Him. I took tea with Mrs. R——n, who desired me to pay a little attention to the moral and religious character of her son, resident for a time in York. O what a responsibility! I write it here that I may remember.—Mrs. R——n has come to stay a few days with us. On Tuesday, we breakfasted with a few praying friends at Mrs. F.'s. While pleading with God a blessed influence rested upon all. I felt as if let into God. What will it be when prayer is turned to praise? To-day we had another baptism at Miss C.'s. The same friends were present. Surely Christian friendship is one soul in many bodies; who can express the unity?—'Jesus is bringing lost sinners to God;' Glory be to God! I feel it my duty to pay more attention to my boys; praying for them is not enough. I must warn, and daily inculcate their duty and privilege. Lord help me.—I visited Mrs. F., and found it profitable to converse with an aged saint; we were comforted together. She said the Lord had sent me. It is true I prayed for direction, and the promise is, if we acknowledge Him, He will direct our steps. Evermore guide me.—Mr. Mortimer and his brother breakfasted with us. While at family-prayer the latter, who had backslidden, began to cry aloud for mercy; the Lord speedily came to his deliverence, and prayer was turned to praise.—I went to the Sabbath School tea-meeting; but doubted whether I was in my proper place. However, I resolved to send William and John to the School, simply with the hope that their minds might be impressed with divine truth.—Thursday. A day devoted to works of mercy, both to the bodies and souls of men; in which I prayed to be saved from self, and directed aright; but how feeble and imperfect my efforts! I feel myself a poor nothing.—While visiting Mr. S., who is in a dying state, I was much encouraged. He has long been a hearer, but neglected to embrace salvation. While I was pleading for him, he exclaimed, 'I believe, I believe.' I saw him again the next day, and on asking him if he felt Christ precious, he said, after a short pause, 'Precious, quite precious.'—I was much affected by a circumstance related by the Rev. Robert Wood, of an eminently pious man in ——; who has not been seen to smile for four years, and when asked the reason, uniformly replies, 'The word of God is true; the wages of sin is death; my son died in his sins, and is now in hell. How can I be cheerful?' May this make me more than ever in earnest in pleading for my sons.—I am aiming to have a conscience void of offence in the sight of God and man; but, on examining my doings, I am ashamed of them. I might have used greater diligence, evidenced more love, spoken with greater propriety, cultivated a more affable spirit. I might have been more pointed in address, more constant, more humble, and in many ways have acted with greater Christian consistency; but Jesus is my refuge. Praised be His name, I love Him!—At the lovefeast Mr. W. stated, that a man in L—— had five sons, for whose salvation he had importunately prayed, from the time of their birth until he died; but without success. They all followed his remains to the grave; and, as they were taking their last look at the coffin after the usual service, one of them clasped his hands and exclaimed:—'I once had a praying father; but there he lies; and now I must pray for myself.' From that moment he commenced a new life, and was soon brought to the knowledge of the truth. Within two years the rest were all truly converted to God: encouragement for parents.—I prayed that the Lord would direct my steps in visiting the poor, and in this He answered me: for quite unexpectedly I was sent for to the bedside of a woman apparently dying, and who, being awakened to her lost condition, lamented the neglect of past opportunities. While a friend was praying she began to pray for herself, faith instantly sprang up in her heart, and she cried out, 'I will believe, Lord help me, I never felt it so with me before.'—Glory be to God, I am still a witness of His saving grace; though buffeted by the enemy within, and exposed to temptation from without. I see the path lies straight before me,—'looking unto Jesus,' who is yet alive. If I proceed, I feel confident of conquest over all my enemies.—Mr. Barnabas Shaw met my Sunday class and said, that once when preaching in Africa, he exclaimed:—'What is it makes the Gospel so sweet?' One of the natives instantly arose and said, 'Jesus.' Truly it is so. My soul tangs on Jesus; here I find rest. The last few days I have been endeavouring to live in the will of God, with some power to do it. To God be all the glory for the work He has wrought. Yesterday I took the sacrament with poor Mary F., who is praising God for the grace manifested to her on a death-bed. How quickly time flies! Well, let it go—

If Jesus my companion be,
My words and actions shall agree,
The index of my soul;
Meekness, benevolence, and love,
Shall every secret purpose move.
And sanctify the whole.

[The following letter was sent, with the articles specified, to some unknown person in Nottingham; and the subject of it remained a secret in her own bosom, until the copy was found among her papers.]

"Dear Sir,—Having a little matter to put into your hands in aid of the Methodist Missions, I take the liberty of addressing a few lines to you.

"The approach of your Annual Meeting at Nottingham reminds me of what I have seen and heard on such occasions; viz., that small donations, and comparatively trivial incidents, in the hands of your ingenious and able speakers, have often been turned to good account, and produced a very happy impression. This consideration induces me to mention a few particulars relative to myself, which otherwise would be impertinent.

"When very young, a kind friend of mine, for whom I had a great affection, gave me a piece of silver newly coined, with which I was so well pleased, that I was resolved to keep it for the sake of the giver; or, as the common phrase is, to make a keepsake of it: and this resolution I held so sacred, that neither childish toy, or youthful pleasure, could wrest the treasure from me.

"When in my twentieth year, it pleased God to bring me to the knowledge of His salvation; which so rejoiced my heart, that the natural consequence was a readiness on all occasions to contribute my mite to promote the cause of the Redeemer, through whom I had experienced such unspeakable happiness.

"On one occasion it happened, that I had no money about me but this piece, which I had so long and sacredly kept in remembrance of my friend. As the collectors were handing the boxes round to the different pews, I began to argue in my mind the propriety of giving away my piece, as the best way of keeping it. The thought of laying it out upon myself I could not entertain for a moment; and was aware there would come a time when I could no longer retain it. At length, to test the propriety of giving it, I supposed I had done so; and afterwards met my much-loved friend in the world of spirits. I imagined she was well acquainted with what I had done; but, on consulting her countenance, I could not perceive the least mark of displeasure: on the contrary, I thought she gave me a smile of approbation. This determined me; accordingly, when the box was presented to me, I dropped my piece into it; and from that moment to the present, whenever the circumstance has occurred to me, I have always felt perfectly satisfied with my decision.

"At the present I have a few choice things, bequeathed to me by a dear friend, now, I trust, in heaven; and I wish, as in the former instance, to keep them for the sake of the giver; but I can think of no means so satisfactory as that to which I have adverted. I therefore send them as specified in the margin; [Footnote: The articles were—a silver coffee-pot and stand, a silver plated tea-pot, a silver cream-jug, do. fish-knife, and half-a-dozen do. dessert spoons.] and request they may be appropriated to the furtherance of the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ.

"Perhaps some may be disposed to question the propriety of such a mode of preserving their treasure; but, I think, I cannot do better than put the precious things to those which are most precious.

"With most fervent prayer for the prosperity of Zion,

"I remain, Dear Sir,

"Yours most respectfully.