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amongst the insulting mob, dragged back again to Jerusalem. Go with him from one judgment-seat to another; hear him, when proof was wanting to ensure his condemnation, confess that he was the Son of God, and so seal his own death-warrant; for had he not before, when speaking of his decease, declared, How am I straitened till it be accomplished? But, when the vacillating Pilate, finding no fault in him, and disposed to release him, urged his vindication of himself from the charges made by his fierce accusers, inciting him to show a reason why he should not die-he answered nothing! He stood there as thy substitute, and could not plead thee guiltless! Oh! didst thou not consider Jesus at the bar for thee.* Alas! no; thou didst not recognise thy surety! Thou didst not know the Lord that bought thee! "Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold! and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the LORD hath afflicted me, in the day of his fierce anger." For "it pleased the Lord to bruise him, He hath put him to grief." Oh! why? Because "God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him should not perish, but have everlasting life!"



"For precept must be upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; here a little, and there a little."-Isaiah xxviii. 10. "The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places."-Psalm xvi. 6.

As soon as I had sufficiently recovered from the fever to be able to leave home, the pressing invita

* "Precious Seed," by Rev. J. Kirk.-Ward & Co., London.

tion of a dear uncle and aunt, that I should visit them for change of air, was gladly accepted by my parents. These dear friends had hazarded their own lives to visit me in the height of the fever, although living at a considerable distance, because it was represented to them, that in lucid intervals I had wished to see them. Peace to their declining days! Their adopted child has not forgotten their early and still unexhausted love!

It was a sweet, though humble cottage, in which they then resided, on the banks of the silvery Avon. The garden was almost filled with flowers, and when the casement window of my chamber was thrown open in the morning, the room was soon perfumed with the exhaling odours of mignionette and jasmine, sweet-brier and scented pea, with a whole hedge of roses. Added to this, my ears were regaled with a choir of singing birds, which, attracted by the quiet of the sunny spot, caroled away right merrily from the branches of the very mulberry tree, which the Shakspearians protest that Shakspeare planted. However, no matter about the authenticity of that; the fine old tree and the sweet songsters had charms for me peculiarly their own. But in that happy cottage there awaited me greater joys than these! The incense of fervent piety arose, perfumed with myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, with the deep harmony of those who made melody in their hearts unto the Lord, while there I sat with great delight, beneath the shadow of a tree, the fruit of which was sweet unto my taste.

Jesus!-I learned the savour of thy name at that auspicious time. I heard the history of thy lowly birth, thy life of poverty, and of perfect obedience; thy garden agony, and ignominious death; thy resurrection, and ascending glory; and ever, as the tale drew near its close, my earnest entreaty


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was still the same, to "tell it once again." best of all, I learned he died for me! my heart with joy, my lisping lips with praise. So sweet to me was the delightful theme, that my kind tutors tell how, on the Saturday, I used to sing all day, because "The Sabbath drew on." Well might I linger by that happy hearth-well might my anxious heart be in a strait betwixt two, having one desire to depart, and another to remain. I loved these kind, dear, adopted friends much--but those at home still more. And as my visit was extended beyond all intended bounds, I returned with my beloved father to my own loved home. And I did love it, too; and thought there was no home so sweet, except my uncle's, in all the world beside! In that fine old garden, with its wide gravelled walks, with long straight lines of box; and in its cool retreats of bowers and overhanging canopies of trees, I could not fail to be happy. Besides, I had a loved companion now; my little sister, my own sweet Emma, was grown into a fine playfellow; and there was another baby brother, my own dear Edwin, to greet and welcome my return. As for my almost adored mamma, I thought I had only to tell her about Jesus, and she would be sure to love him too. And as for papa, he did love him: and now I knew I could better understand his improving conversation, and long, earnest prayers; and thought, he may dry up all his tears, for we shall soon all pray and all praise together. Alas! that such a sweet dream should ever be awaked from! But so it was: one link alone was wanting, but that lack caused the whole fabric of my hopes to crumble into dust!

On my return from visiting my dear uncle and aunt, I very soon began to speak of the endeared theme, which was now ever uppermost in my mind; viz. “The things concerning Jesus!" For some

time mamma listened to me, at first, with attention; she perhaps thought that having at my uncle's house frequently heard the subject discussed, it was no wonder my head was full of it for a time; little suspecting that the fascinating theme had made a deep and indelible impression on my heart.. But when weeks passed by, and I still talked on untiringly about Jesus, her fears were awakened lest the heavenly lore should be found too deeply seated to be easily eradicated. Thus frequently I heard conversations carried on with my aunts respecting it. Sometimes they regretted the imprudence of my early teachers, lamenting the tendency of such subjects to make me gloomy. These were assuredly groundless fears; as it is certain, that while the precious subject had a charm in it, which, on the instant that the chord was touched, so vibrated through my soul as to win my attention from every thing besides; yet it was for this very reason, because it gave me greater pleasure than all other subjects, consequently rendering me really much happier than before. Certain it is, that at all times I was, if possible, more cheerful, and perhaps less petulant, than I had previously been. On one occasion it was proposed, by a mistaken friend, to laugh the little girl out of it. This my mother did not do. No; there was a something whispering within, which demanded her respect for so lovely and excellent a thing as true religion; although there still existed, in the scepticism of her unenlighted mind, a great doubt about the genuineness of the piety of her child. Such doubts have wounded many a young believer to the heart, causing some even to go back and walk no more with Jesus! Alas! is it not known what Jesus says "Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones?" (See also Mark ix. 42.) It would be well, before giving utterance to these doubts, to

take this solemn thought into calculation-how shall I meet the offended Lord of one of these little ones?



However, the utmost degree at which my gentle mother arrived, although with the enmity of an unregenerate heart, was to correct my warm and affectionate manner, in speaking of my Saviour and my God. As for instance, when I said "The Lord,” I was told to say "The Almighty." And in speaking of the day of sacred rest, when I remarked, "It will be the Lord's day; or, "The Sabbath day;" I was told to say Sunday, as all these words savoured of "cant," or Methodism," if not of "hypocrisy." It is thus that the tender buds of piety, just opening to the light of heaven, are made to shrink from the breath of suspicion; and, hastily folding up their expanding leaves, to droop into the shade. Alas! they had rather needed fostering with the tenderest care, to shield them from the hostile influences of earth, and secure an abundant harvest. My beloved father was also absent from home on a long journey, so that I was left, at this auspicious moment, without an earthly friend to guide my doubtful feet in that narrow path which leads to joys on high.

There was a little incident which I may perhaps introduce here, as an encouragement under such circumstances. It relates to a servant girl whom my mother had taken into her service during my infancy. She was an orphan, and remained in our family eleven years; being devotedly attached to my mother, whom she regarded as her best friend. At the time I have just alluded to, Charlotte caught up the recommendations of my mother's friends, and put them into zealous practice, by instituting a petty persecution against my "canting Methodism," as she termed it. The particulars of this I had nearly forgotten, when, some years after the death


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