CHAP VI.
Is life with many comforts crown'd,
Upheld in peace and health,
With dear affections twined around ?
Lord, in my time of wealth,
May I remember, that to thee,
Whate'er I have I owe;
And back, in gratitude from me,
May all thy bounties flow.
On November the 14th, 1841, Mrs. Fishwick again addressed her friend, Miss F.
I feel greatly obliged by your kind good wishes. &c., on my natal day. I feel it a time when I ought to be particularly led to a view of the mercies and blessings with which I both have been, and am surrounded; but I am sensible of much ingratitude, and want of thankfulness for the loving kindness of my Lord. My heart is too prone to be taken up with outward concerns. I want more spirituality of mind, that I may look more to internal, and less to external things, I often look at my outward blessings, and sometimes fear lost it should be said to me as to one of old, “Thou in thy life-time receivedst thy good things." But when I look to the atoning sacrifice, I see there such a fulness and sufficiency of cleansing power, that my fears are removed. Yes,
Salvation in that name is found;
Balm for my grief and care,
A medicine for my every wound;
All, all I want is there.
Oh, my dear friend, help me by your prayers, that I may be more spiritually minded, and especially cherish a greater degree of thankfulness for mercies received.
Our new chapel progresses very nicely, and “rises beautiful and fair.." I believe the laying of the foundation-stone was made a blessing to litany. I do think we had the seal of Heaven upon it. My wish is that it may be a “house of prayer" for ever.
TO HER NIECE, MISS SARAH FISHWICK.
February, 1842.
My dearest Sarah,
As I am sending a parcel, you will perhaps be disappointed if you do not find at least a few lines to say that we still remember you; though if there was not a scrawl of writing, I hope you would not consider it a proof that you were forgotten, but rather that want of leisure had occasioned the omission. I received your dear sister's kind and affectionate token yesterday, and was glad to learn that you were all well. What a great blessing it is to enjoy a good state of health, and yet how apt we are to undervalue it, because we, are so generally favoured with it; but when we visit the abodes of sickness and suffering, we learn to estimate our blessings and comforts. Today, in visiting a poor woman, I was struck with the difference between her lot and my own. She was suffering from a very severe cough, and something of the influenza. She appeared not to have a single comfort; she was in deep poverty, without any prospect of her situation in this world ever being improved; and., what was worse, Without any ray of hope as to futurity. Oh, how truly distressing it is to witness such cases, and how thankful we should be that our circumstances are so greatly different; but if we are so highly privileged, let us remember that “where much is given, much will be required;" and that it is our duty in every possible way to endeavour to lessen the amount of human woe. The foundation of this disposition must be laid in youth, and in an obliging kind disposition, that is willing to forego its own gratification, in order to increase the pleasure and enjoyment of others, even of those who may be less amiable than many. This is a feeling we should cherish, and thus try to tread in His steps, who “pleased not himself," but lived for the benefit of others—even of those who reviled and rejected Him.
But I am scribbling away, and filling my paper very differently
to what I intended. Your uncle has today been paying the last tribute of respect
to the remains of our worthy friend, Mr. Threlfall, who has “'scaped the storm's
deep chiding." His end was eminently peaceful; even when unable to speak,
his sweet smile and lifted eyes, shewed he was looking forward with joyful confidence
beyond the dark valley, and saw it all bright and glorious.
With kind love to you all, in which all our circle joins, believe me, my dearest
Sarah,
Your very affectionate aunt.
TO MISS F.
December 23, 1841.
I retire from bustle, hurry, and confusion, to offer my kind congratulations to my dear and esteemed friend, on the return of her birthday, and to beg her acceptance of my best wishes for health, comfort, and happiness to attend all her fixture path in life, so far as those blessings may be conducive to her present and eternal welfare. Much of enjoyment as we seem naturally to attach to these things, it is not always in the sunny hours of health that we have the most positive pleasure and enjoyment, as it is the sunshine of the mind, more than of outward circumstances, that creates our happiness. This I well know you have often experienced. May you in every varying scene of life, still prove that “the joy of the Lord" is your strength and happiness.
TO HER SON.
April, 1842.
My very dear Crane,
As you have so kindly endeavoured to gratify me by writing, I must endeavour to repay you in kind; and I therefore sit down, to assure you it gave me great pleasure to hear front you. As I inferred from it that you and 'Miss P. were both well, I hope you continue so. We often speak of you both, and fancy what you may be doing. I trust you are daily endeavouring to improve, and that you are striving and praying that this may be the case. Be sure to be in earnest both in your prayers and endeavours, for it is the diligent who shall obtain what they seek.
You are, now getting to an age that makes all you do important; for your habits are now forming for life. If you are desultory in your employments, negligent in your studies, and trifling in your thoughts and feelings, you will do yourself an injury that all the future efforts of either yourself or your friends can never repair. On the contrary, if you now give yourself to God, you will be led to see the value of your time, and aiming in all things to do his will, and to act well pleasing in his sight, you will. employ your time usefully, and will be saved from the thousand regrets, felt by those who let the spring time of their life pass away unimproved. Your very anxiety about the sowing of the annuals may teach you a lesson, for you thought if they were not sown early enough, they would neither flower so soon nor be so strong. Now, apply this to yourself, and you will see what I mean.
TO THE SAME.
I hail your birthday, my dearest child, with gratitude to that gracious God, who, contrary to all human expectation, has extended your life to this important period. You must now lay aside your childish thoughts and ways, and remember that a boy of fourteen should husband well his time. Your school-days will soon be past, and if unimproved, can never be recalled. Remember the parable of the talents, and take care that all your opportunities are improved: that this may be the case, mingle all with prayer; whilst you pray, watch, and strive also. Thus shall you tread in the steps of one, who, had she been spared, would have greatly rejoiced to see this day. Copy the example she has left, and let not your own neglect deprive you of the benefit of her prayers, which wore unceasingly offered in your behalf. Ever cherish the remembrance of her excellencies, and try to be all she wished to see you; then shall your future days be happy and blessed, and all a mother's fondest wishes and desires for her only son, will. be fulfilled. I am as ever your fond and affectionate mother.
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In September, 1842, Mr and Mrs. F. had the gratification of witnessing the completion of their new sanctuary, and of publicly dedicating to God this “holy and beautiful house." A peculiarly gracious and hallowed influence rested upon the opening services, and of that little hill of Zion, it has often since then been said, “the Lord is there." As there was no debt on the premises, all being entirely completed and given by the liberality of Mr. Fishwick, in trust to the Wesleyan Conference, there were no collections on that account; but it was resolved that instead of these, there should be a missionary meeting, that they who rejoiced in the erection of this house of prayer for themselves, should have the opportunity of giving as it were a thank-offering, for the benefit of heathen lands. A handsome sum was realized, for "the people, offered willingly."
In a letter of Nov. 11th, Mrs. F. notices the completion of the painting, &c., of the chapel, and the hallowed and prayerful spirit in which the finished offering was presented. After this, other short extracts from her correspondence will be given, showing how quietly and unostentatiously, though ever tending to some useful purpose, she
“Ran her course with even joy,
And closely walked with Christ to heaven."
TO MISS F.
Springfield, Nov. 11, 1842.
Our little sanctuary is now completed; and our respected friend, the Rev. J. Phillips, is to occupy the pulpit for us on Sunday. I trust we shall have a blessing from on high. The painting is all oak; and now that it is finished and varnished, it really looks beautiful. I believe my husband has acted from a pure motive, not wishing to present to the Lord anything blemished, imperfect, or of little value. If He but condescend to accept the offering, 'by crowning the worshipping assemblies within its walls with His presence, all will be well.
When I consider how long I have lived, how large a portion of my life is gone, and how little I have done to benefit those around me, or to glorify my God, I am lost in astonishment at the forbearance he has exercised towards me, and can only say,
Whence to me this waste of love,
Ask my advocate above;
See the cause in Jesu's face,
Now before the throne of grace.
December 27, 1842.
Will my very dear friend accept the enclosed memoir, as a token that the anniversary of her birth is remembered with grateful pleasure, by one who esteems it a privilege to share her friendship; and who cherishes a sacred remembrance of the joy with which those days were ever hailed by her, whose brief existence was cheered by the assurance, that the heart which first throbbed on the day she delighted to commemorate, was beating in kindly feeling and warm affection towards her. My earnest prayer is, that the blessings you were the means of affording to her, may be richly shed upon yourself, and that to many others you may, though in a different way, be an equal blessing. To receive my wishes for you, is to think of every good, both temporal and spiritual, that can be bestowed on mortals; and to believe that all which gracious heaven can grant, is for you, and your beloved mother, most fervently desired by
Your sincere and affectionate friend.
Poor Miss T. is still confined to her room. Oh, what a mercy that there is a hope no sickness can destroy! Still. the young, the lovely, and those who seem fitted to fill useful places in the world or in the church, one parts with somewhat reluctantly, till the recollection of our own short-sightedness, and the infinite wisdom of Him who governs all, silences all our regrets.
M. R. has gained the port; lie was one to whom we fondly looked as likely to become a pillar in our Zion. T. L. still lingers on, wholly confined to bed. Every tie that held him to life seems severed, for he has after a hard struggle given up his wife and ten children into the Lord's hands.
November 13, 1813.
Had I not a deep sense of the unworthiness of the individual thus kindly remembered and highly honoured by her friends, I might be in danger of being vain, and of thinking myself some important personage. While I am deeply grateful for these kindnesses, I would also wish to cultivate feelings of devout gratitude, to Him who crowns my days with loving kindness and tender mercy; whose goodness has hitherto followed me in a full stream, and borne with my waywardness and unfaithfulness. I would humbly ask, that He would cause these things to prove a means of drawing me nearer to Himself.
We were at Preston the other day. I took a quiet walk to St. George's chapel-yard, and recalled scenes and days long since passed away. Their memory is hallowed, by their associations with those who are now worshipping before the throne! Yes,
In yon thrice happy seat
Waiting for us they are;
May we o'ertake them in the skies.
January 10, 1844.
The melancholy tidings of Mr. Butterfield's removal, filled all our hearts with grief; most deeply do we sympathize with you and with his sorrowing relatives. We likewise feel for the cause of God, of which he was so firm a supporter and so warm a friend; and are led to cry “Help, Lord, for the godly man ceaseth, for the faithful fail from among the children of men." To us short-sighted mortals, it seems mysterious that one so useful should be removed as it were in the midst of his days; and nothing but the assurance that the Lord does all things well, can reconcile us to the dispensation.
How mournfully pleasing to surviving friends, to think of the glorious anticipations
cherished, or the faithful warnings given, by those who, having ascended from
earth, seem to have left a track of brightness, marking their pathway to the
skies. What a blank, when all we can hear of the departed, is something relative
to time; and one knows not on what topic to dwell, to bring comfort to the mourners:
for we receive no account of the hopes or prospects of those who are for ever
gone.
TO HER NIECE MISS FISHWICK.
Springfield, January 10, 1844.
My very dear Betsy,
* * * * You have been favoured with very delightful weather for your visit, and will, I doubt not, have greatly enjoyed it among your kind relatives and friends; for, with the exception of part of yesterday, it has been remarkable for the season. Last night, all was covered with a snowy mantle, but this morning our valley is green and fresh like spring. The aconites are shewing their golden heads, and Miss P. has just been gathering a sweet violet in the garden, one of the first harbingers of a season she so much enjoys. We have been deeply affected this morning by a letter from Miss F., announcing the removal of her highly esteemed friend, Mr. B., whose happy spirit escaped away about nine o'clock on Monday evening. On that afternoon he was unspeakably happy: his voice seemed supernaturally strengthened, and he was talking to all around him. Just before his departure, Mrs. B. repeated
The opening heavens around me shine," &c.;
he took up the last line in holy triumph, and repeated it again and again " And whispers I am His, yes, and whispers I am His." Very shortly after he literally “fell asleep in Jesus." Oh, my dear Betsy, What is there in all the flattering prospects of the world, to be compared to the blessedness of making such a glorious exit. May you and I, my dear girl, be enabled through grace to
Triumph so
When all our warfare's past.
Your uncle begs to join me in very kind regards to your uncle and aunt Kay, and grandmama, who, I am happy to hear, has recovered from her late indisposition. Present our united love to dear Sarah and Anne, and with a large portion to yourself,
Believe me, your very affectionate aunt.
TO MISS P.
February 4, 1844.
Were it ever in my power to write in flowing numbers, I should certainly be prompted to attempt it on this interesting occasion; but as prose of a very plain and unornamented character is all I can aspire to, I must be content in this way to assure you, my dearest Jane, that it is with the sincerest pleasure I hail the return of your natal day; and wish that many such varied only by the increase of joy and peace, brought by each succeeding one may be your lot below; and that in the evening of your days enjoying the retrospect of a life of usefulness, proved by the conduct of those, to whose benefit your most active and valuable powers have been devoted, you may
Like a fine setting sun, growing richer in grace,
Enjoy a sure hope at the end of your days,
Of rising in brighter array.
Will you oblige me by accepting as a birthday memento, an article which I hope you will believe is not an inappropriate representation of my love. With every good wish for time and eternity, believe me, with increasing regard and affection,
Your sincere friend.
TO MISS F.
June 17, 1844.
You are now enjoying the society of our good friends, Mr. and Mrs. Booth. We have learned today that the young man who got good under Mr. Booth's sermon here at the opening of our chapel, is contemplating going to America. If he should be spared. and kept faithful, who can tell how far the benefit of that service may extend.
Poor — ! what a warning not to be too anxious about the wealth of those we leave behind; and how needful to remember the admonition Solomon gives “I have seen an evil under the sun: riches laid up for the owners thereof, to their hurt."
August 3, 1844.
I am sorry to learn that poor Anne is still wading through deep waters; yet I trust she will find, as the river gets deeper, she is supported and borne up, so that she may keep the celestial city in sight, and have such a clear view of it, as to be enabled to go up to it singing. I well remember her quiet and constant attention at the Sunday school, and am thankful that the labour bestowed on her there, has not been in vain. Though sorely oppressed with disease now, I doubt not she will ere long shine brightly in her Redeemer's crown.
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Before, the month of November closed, Mrs. F.'s early religious friend and correspondent, her sister-in-law, Mrs. Stead, was called from her active labours in the church and in her family, to enjoy the rest above. After severe suffering, she fell asleep in Jesus. and “went to be a glorious guest" “where the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." Her many excellencies had endeared her to a large circle of friends, who will long cherish her memory. Mrs. F. truly mourned with the mourners, and deeply sympathized with those whose hearts and homes wore made desolate.
Friend after friend departs;
Who hath not lost a friend?
There is no union here of hearts,
That finds not here an end.
Were this vain world our only rest,
Living or dying, none were blest
On the day after her birthday, Mrs. F. thus addressed her niece, Miss S, R, then at school.
Springfield, November 11, 1844.
My very dear Sarah,
1 can scarcely realize the thought that a year has passed away, since you kindly sent me the pretty work-bag, wreathed with roses, which I have so often looked upon with pleasure, because it was your work; but it seems my dear girls have noted the time, and. have been plying their busy needles to promote my comfort and convenience; and happy indeed shall I feel, to look upon these tokens of your affectionate regard. The flowers are beautiful, and the whole does credit to the taste and industry of the kind donors. How well it is, that our time is marked by the recurrence of seasons, that we may, by their return, be reminded of its rapid flight, and thus being led to review the past, may the better mark those portions of it where we have missed our way, and failed to improve it as we should have done. Oh, what a mercy, that when overwhelmed by a sense of unfaithfulness and lukewarmness, we may fly to the blood of sprinkling, and find in it the balm to heal our wounded spirits;— and that though all our future path in life is doubtful and uncertain,
There is a land, where
Shall no dread of change darken our spirits' trust.
To this happy land, my dear Sarah, may you and I ever be looking forward, and daily acquiring a greater meetness to become its glorified inhabitants.
TO HER NIECE, MISS J. HOPWOOD.
January 15, 1845.
I fear my dear Jane will begin to think me very negligent, in not having earlier acknowledged the receipt of the beautiful netting stirrup she was so kind as to send me. I shall look upon and use it with much pleasure, as the kind present of my dear niece, in whose welfare I ever feel a real interest. Most sincerely do I congratulate you on your restoration to health, after your late severe accident; and trust that it may prove the means in the Lord's hands, of inducing you fully to give your heart to Him, who has lengthened your life for this very purpose. He has thus given you an additional proof of his watchful care and merciful regard; for much as you owe to the kind attention of your dear parents and friends, and to the skill of your medical attendant, yet it is only by the divine blessing on these means that they have proved efficacious; and it is by the Lord's goodness that your dear friends and all other comforts are vouchsafed to you. Oh then, my dear Jane, as I doubt not you have tried to prove your gratitude to those who attended on you, how much more are you bound to do it to your great Benefactor and Preserver. Let the flower of your youth be given to Him, who in the prime of life gave Himself a sacrifice for you: this, and this alone, will make you happy in life, in death, and for ever.
Will you present my kind remembrances to your dear father, mother, brothers, and sister. I suppose your brother George will be leaving home very soon; if lie be still with you, give him my kind love, and best wishes for his health, comfort, and happiness.
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Towards the close of the year 1844, Mrs. F. had a severe illness, in which were developed more decided symptoms of the complaint which proved fatal to her, and she was persuaded to have the advice of Dr. Robinson, of Manchester, a valued physician and. family friend. Her calm, clear account of his opinion, and her own views and feelings on the subject, are given as follows. She was not dismayed at the nearer prospect of eternity. She knew in whom she had believed, and that He was able to keep what she “had committed unto Him against that day."
TO MISS F.
February 6, 1845.
In reply to your kind enquiries respecting Dr. Robinson's opinion, it is satisfactory to know that he thinks I have been correctly treated. He enjoins, if possible, still more quiet and rest, with strict attention to diet. The heart, he says, is not diseased, but its cavities are too large, and its walls too weak. I was averse to his coming, as I thought it unnecessary; but my dear George was anxious that I should see him, and I feel it my duty not to neglect anything, which may lessen the kind anxiety of those around me. I see abundant cause for gratitude that I am so favourably placed in every respect, and all I want is to be more fully prepared, for that world where sorrow and sickness are unknown: that whether my dismissal from the present life be sudden or otherwise, I may be found having my lamp trimmed, my light burning, and oil in my vessel with my lamp. I believe the, bounds of my habitation have been appointed by Him who has graciously led us all our days. May I more fully prove His directing and saving influence, and live more entirely to His glory.
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Under the blessing of God on her physician's prescriptions, and the constant affectionate solicitude of her attached family circle, Mrs. F. recovered in a great degree from this attack, and continued for some time in tolerably comfortable health. Still, she gradually became more and more incapable of bodily exertion, and had not unfrequent seasons of extreme languor and debility. Her spirit was increasingly “hallowed and made meet for heaven.” She lived more habitually under the feeling that she was perhaps very near eternity; and yet, she lost none of her accustomed interest in the friends around her, or in the passing events of time.
TO MISS SARAH FISHWICK.
Springfield, April 25, 1845.
I really do not remember which of you I last addressed, but I fancy it was dear Betsy, and I therefore, presume. you will think it is your turn to hear from me. I have to acknowledge the receipt of a long and kind letter from on, as well as one from your sister, by both of which I am much gratified, as it always affords me pleasure to hear of your happiness and welfare. Be assured, you have all a warm place in my affections, and I often, very often, think of you, and feel truly grateful for every token of improvement, and every trait of real excellence I discern in any of your characters. I sincerely rejoice in every attempt I see any of you making, to overcome the faults and failings of which you are conscious, and which I believe you ask grace from on high to enable you to conquer. Oh, how I long that you should prove holy, happy, devoted characters, such as your sainted mother was, whose very name always recalls a pleasing recollection of some of her many excellencies. I often think of the frequency and fervency of her devotions, and of the sweet and holy calm which seemed to pervade her mind, when she again returned to the busy scenes of life. May you, my dear Sarah, and your beloved sisters, imitate lieu example, possess her excellencies, and finally meet her and your honoured father, where “there is fulness of joy and pleasures for evermore."
We had a most awful proof' of the uncertainty of life yesterday: as I sat at work by the parlour fire, I saw a man running on the railway, who in less than half a minute lay a corpse beside the rail, having been run over by the train. Oh, it was indeed an afflictive sight.
Dr. Beaumont is opening Rawcliffe chapel today. He dined with us, and returns here to night. Your uncle, cousin, and Miss P. are gone with him. I am obliged to take care of myself, and stay at home; and am thankful that with great care, I keep much better than I was some time ago.
I hope your dear governess continues better. Re member me kindly to her; also to Mr. and. Mrs. Phillips and Miss Ellen, and. with a large portion of love to your dear sisters and yourself, I remain, my dear Sarah, your affectionate aunt.
TO MR. F.
May 18, 1845.
My dearest George,
It is with grateful joy that I hail this anniversary of your natal day, and reflect upon the innumerable mercies which have surrounded our path, not only in the past year, but during the quarter of a century which a gracious Providence has permitted us to enjoy together; and the return of this happy day reminds us of the love and gratitude we owe. I say we, because in everything which concerns you, my happiness is so interwoven, that I cannot help linking myself with you, even in my good wishes for you. But in one sense you certainly stand alone: and it is my earnest prayer, that as a pillar in the church below, you may long stand “as beautiful as useful there," and at a far distant day be translated to the temple above, where they who once enter, go no more out for ever.
Though the gifts of which I beg your acceptance are but humble, yet as pocket appendages, I hope they may answer for every-day use, and serve as types of a love, which, though not loud in profession, is a deep and silent stream of ever-flowing and pure affection. I remain, as ever, your own
ANNE ELIZA.
TO HER SON, ON HIS BIRTHDAY.
September 25, 1845.
Although my good wishes and fervent prayers ever attend you, my dearest Crane, yet, on the return of your natal. day, I am especially led, whilst I offer thanks to the giver of all good, that he has been pleased to spare you in health and strength; to ask that you may be preserved in the slippery paths of youth, and so fully devote yourself to God in early life, that you may become a useful member of His church, and finally, after a life of humility, self denial, and devoted labour, for the good of those around you, may you meet all you have loved below, in those blissful regions where sin and sorrow find no entrance. In remembrance of Sep. 25th, I wish you to accept a scrap book, where the scenes you love to cherish may be preserved, and remind you of the enjoyment of your youthful days.
That your pleasures may ever be pure and unsullied, your hopes high and holy, your pursuits useful and respectable, and the evening of your life unembittered by regret, is the sincere prayer of
Your affectionate mother.
TO MISS FISHWICK,
November 11, 1845.
My Dearest Betsy,
As you are aware of my engagements during the last few days, I rely upon your kindness to excuse my delay in acknowledging your beautiful gift, and your very kind congratulations. They are, however, both most highly prized, and though I need no memento to remind me of those so dear to me as you self and sisters, yet your interesting remembrance is placed where it serves the double purpose of remind me by its use, of the flight of time, and of those loved ones,, for whose. improvement of it, I feel so deeply anxious. When I look back, and see such cause to regret that so large a portion of my life, has brought but little fruit to the honour of Him who has done so much for me, it makes me feel increasingly desirous that you should be saved from a similar cause of regret. I have however great reason to be thankful that I am still spared in life, and surrounded with so many blessings. When I look at, many others, and see how much more favourably I am circumstanced than they, I feel lost in astonishment, at the rich displays of that mercy which still watches over me; and feel as though I could only
Take the blessing from above,
And wonder at His boundless love.
I have but a few minutes for writing today, but cannot suffer another post to pass, without acknowledging your elegant and unique remembrance, for which sister Sarah and you must accept my thanks; and I will write to her tomorrow, as also to sister Anne, unless Mr. and Mrs. B., whom we are hoping to see shortly, should pop in to spend the day with us. I am joined by all here in very kind regards to yourself and dear sisters, also to Miss P.; and believe me, my dearest Betsy, ever to remain
Your truly affectionate aunt.
On Christmas-day, she writes thus to Miss F.
December 25, 1845.
May the rich blessings of Him whose birth we this day celebrate, ever rest upon you and clear Mrs. R: then will all the good wishes usually offered at this season be amply fulfilled. What a lovely day! all nature seems rejoicing, as in accordance with the gladness of this hallowed festival. All. our good folks, except my niece B, and myself, were at the six o'clock service this morning, and enjoyed it much.
I understand poor Mrs. G. has done with earth and its concerns. Oh, how trifling they appear in the light of eternity! You will be glad to hear that some of the men who broke into Calder House have been taken. I assure you we were not very easy while Mr. F. and C. were away, as four suspicious looking men had been seen hanging about. However, we thought it better to use every precautionary measure, and then to trust in Him who never slumbers. Hitherto He has graciously preserved us.
My friends seem determined, if I cannot go to visit lovely scenery and interesting views, I shall have no reason to regret the deprivation, as they will cause them to visit me;§ and, unlike the terrestrial wanderings in this lower world, that they shall be unmixed with any fatigue or annoyance; and among the most interesting that can possibly be selected.
§ Alluding to some views in Palestine, which were presented to her about this time.
LINES COPIED FOR MR. F.
May 18, 1846.
To my own dear George.
Another year is dying fast,
A chequered year of joy and woe;
And dark and light alike are past —
The rose and thorn at once laid low.
All things are changed — and I am changed,
Even in the love I knew before;
Not that my heart can be estranged,
But I have learned to love thee more.
Yes, to mine ear thine accents all
Have grown more welcome, and more glad;
Thy coining step more musical,
And thy departing step more sad.
They say the first bright dawn of love
Hath bliss no other time can know;
But I have tried, and learned to prove
How dearer far, its future glow.
Stern disappointments we have proved —
Dark clouds across our path have been;
Yet better, through them all, we loved,
As dark and drearier grew the scene.
Oh! would this truth could bring relief
To thee, when earthly cares annoy,
That I would rather share thy grief,
Than revel in another's joy.
Will you believe that the above lines are the genuine feelings of my heart, and that with fondest wishes and most fervent prayers for your peace and comfort, I am, as ever, your own devotedly attached
ANNE ELIZA.
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In the autumn of 1816, Mrs. F. spent some time with her family at Southport, and seemed much benefited by the change. Her friends fondly hoped that the progress of disease was arrested, and that with constant care and attention, her valued life might yet be spared to them for years. But this was not her own impression. She felt within, as if the command had been given, “Set thine house in order;" and under the influence of this impression, she daily lived as one looking for the coming of her Lord.