PART V.
Jane was hastening fast to her dissolution. She still, however,preserved sufficient strength to converse with much satisfaction toherself and those who visited her. Such as could truly estimate thevalue of her spiritual state of mind were but few; yet the most carelesscould not help being struck with her affectionate seriousness, herknowledge of the Scriptures, and her happy application of them to her owncase.
"The holy spark divine,"
which regenerating grace had implanted in her life, had kindled a flamewhich warmed and animated the beholder. To _some_, I am persuaded, herexample and conversation were made a blessing. Memory reflects withgratitude, whilst I write, on the profit and consolation which Iindividually derived from her society. Nor I alone. The last day will,if I err not, disclose further fruits, resulting from the love of God tothis little child, and, through her, to others that saw her. And may nothope indulge the prospect, that this simple memorial of her history shallbe as one arrow drawn from the quiver of the Almighty to reach the heartsof the young and the thoughtless? Direct its course, O my God! May theeye that reads, and the ear that hears, the record of little Jane,through the power of the Spirit of the Most High, each become the witnessfor the truth as it is in Jesus!
I remembered the tender solicitude of this dear child for her mother. Iwell knew what an awful contrast the dispositions and conduct of herparents exhibited, when compared with her own.
I resolved to avail myself of the first opportunity I could seize tospeak to the mother in the child's presence. The woman had latterlyavoided me, conscious of deserving, and fearful of receiving reproof. Theroad by which I usually approached the house lay, for some littledistance, sufficiently in sight of its windows to enable the woman toretire out of the way before I arrived. There was, however, anotherpath, through fields at the back of the village, which, owing to thesituation of the ground, allowed of an approach unperceived, till avisitor reached the very cottage itself.
One morning, soon after the sacramental interview related in my lastpaper, I chose _this_ road for my visit. It was preferable to me onevery account. The distance was not quite half a mile from my house. Thepath was retired. I hereby avoided the noise and interruption which evena village street will sometimes present, to disturb the calmness ofinteresting meditation.
As I passed through the churchyard, and cast my eye on the memorableepitaph, "Soon," I thought within me, "will my poor little Jane mingleher mouldering remains with this dust, and sleep with her fathers! Soonwill the youthful tongue, which now lisps hosannas to the Son of David,and delights my heart with evidences of early piety and grace, be silentin the earth! Soon shall I be called to commit her 'body to the ground,earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.' But oh, what a gloriouschange! Her spirit shall have then returned to God who gave it. Hersoul will be joining the halleluiahs of paradise, while we sing herrequiem at the grave. And her very dust shall here wait, in sure andcertain hope of a joyful resurrection from the dead."
I went through the fields without meeting a single individual. I enjoyedthe retirement of my solitary walk. Various surrounding objectscontributed to excite useful meditation connected with the great subjectsof time and eternity. Here and there a drooping flower reminded me ofthe fleeting nature of mortal life. Sometimes a shady spot taught me tolook to Him who is a "shadow in the day-time from the heat, and for aplace of refuge, and for a covert from storm and from rain." If a wormcrept across my path, I saw an emblem of myself as I am _now_; and thewinged insects, fluttering in the sunbeams, led me comparatively toreflect on what I hoped to be _hereafter_.
The capacious mansion of a rich neighbour appeared on the right hand as Iwalked; on my left were the cottages of the poor. The church spirepointing to heaven a little beyond, seemed to say to both the rich andthe poor, "Set your affection on things above, not on things on theearth." All these objects afforded me useful meditation; and allobtained an increased value as such, because they lay in my road to thehouse of little Jane.
I was now arrived at the stile nearly adjoining her dwelling. The upperwindow was open, and I soon distinguished the sound of voices--I was gladto hear that of the mother. I entered the house door unperceived bythose above stairs, and sat down below, not wishing as yet to interrupt aconversation which quickly caught my ear.
"Mother! mother! I have not long to live. My time will be very short.But I must, indeed I must, say something for your sake, before I die. Omother! you have a soul--you have a soul; and what will become of it whenyou die? O my mother! I am so uneasy about your soul--"
"Oh, dear! I shall lose my child--she will die--and what shall I do whenyou are gone, my Jenny?" She sobbed aloud.
"Mother, think about your soul. Have you not neglected that?"
"Yes, I have been a wicked creature, and hated all that was good. Whatcan I do?"
"Mother, you must pray to God to pardon you for Christ's sake. You mustpray."
"Jenny, my child, I cannot pray: I never did pray in all my life. I amtoo wicked to pray."
"Mother, I have been wanting to speak to you a long time; but I wasafraid to do it. You did not like me to say anything about religion, andI did not know how to begin. But indeed, mother, I must speak now, or itmay be too late. I wish Mr. --- was here, for he could talk to youbetter than I can. But perhaps you will think of what I say, poor as itis, when I am dead. I am but a young child, and not fit to speak aboutsuch things to anybody. But, mother, you belong to me, and I cannot bearto think of your perishing for ever. My Lord and Saviour has shown me myown sin and corruptions: he loved me, and gave himself for me: he died,and he rose again: I want to praise him for it for ever and ever. I hopeI shall see him in heaven; but I want to see you there too, mother. Do,pray do, leave off swearing, and other bad ways: go to church, and hearour minister speak about Jesus Christ, and what he has done for wickedsinners. He wishes well to souls. He taught me the way, and he willteach you, mother. Why did you always go out of the house when he wascoming? Do not be angry with me, mother; I only speak for your good. Iwas once as careless as you are about the things of God. But I have seenmy error. I was in the broad road leading to destruction, like manyother children in the parish; and the Lord saw me, and had mercy uponme."
"Yes, my child, you were always a good girl, and minded your book."
"No, mother, no; not always. I cared nothing about goodness, nor myBible, till the minister came and sent for us, as you know, on Saturdayafternoons. Don't you remember, mother, that at first you did not likeme to go, and said you would have no such _godly_, _pious_ doings about_your_ house; and that I had better play about the streets and fields,than be laughed at and be made game of for pretending to be so good? Ah,mother, you did not know what I went for, and what God designed for meand my poor sinful soul! But, thank God, I did go, and there learned theway of salvation. Mother, I wish you had learned too."
As I listened to this affecting conversation, it appeared to me, from thetone and manner of the mother's voice, that she was more under theinfluence of temporary grief, on account of her child's extreme illness,than sincere sorrow from any real sense of her sins. I however hoped thebest, and rejoiced to hear such weighty and important exhortationdropping from her daughter's lips. I felt that present circumstancesrendered it far more valuable than my own could have been.
I have often, since that time, seen the wicked and careless muchaffected, while sitting by the dying bed of a near relative: I havewitnessed their temporary acknowledgments of sin, and heard theirprofessions of amendment. But, after a short season, all has passed awaylike the morning dew. The friend has been buried out of sight. Theworld and its cares, the flesh and its sins, have returned with newtemptations, and the eloquence of iniquity has prevailed over the voiceof truth. "The dog has returned to his vomit, and the sow to herwallowing in the mire."
On the other hand, how frequently have the deathbeds of true believersbeen blessed to the eye-witne
ss of the triumphs of grace over sin, death,and hell! Often has the careless bystander received the first savingimpression of divine truth, whilst the dying Christian has experiencedand testified the supports of love and mercy in the trying hour. At suchseasons, faith wields a bright and burning torch, which occasionallysoftens the hardest and warms the coldest heart. The expressions of thatheavenly consolation and devout solicitude, which the Holy Spiritvouchsafes to some, thus become the happy means of grace and blessing forthe conversion and edification of others.
"He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto thechurches!"
At this moment the house-door opened, and a younger child, a brother ofJane's, came in. The mother asked from above who it was: the boyreplied; and, without further inquiry, she remained in the chamber. Ibeckoned to the lad to sit down quietly; and thus it still remainedunknown that I was below.
"Mother," continued Jane, "that is my brother, and will soon be your onlyremaining child. Do, pray, encourage him to follow good ways. Send himto Mr. ---, and he will be kind to him, as he has been to me. He is awild boy, but I hope he will be brought to think about his soul in time.Those naughty, wicked boys teach him to swear and fight, and run afterall manner of evil. Lord, help him to flee from the wrath to come!"
I made a sign to the boy to listen to what his sister said concerninghim. He seemed to hear with attention, and a tear dropped down hischeek.
"Ay, Jenny, it is to be hoped he will, and that we shall all likewise."
"Mother, then you must flee to Christ. Nothing you can do will save youwithout that. You must repent and turn from sin: without the grace ofGod you cannot do it; but seek, and you shall find it. Do, for your ownsake, and for my sake, and my little brother's sake."
The woman wept and sobbed without replying. I now thought it time toappear, went to the bottom of the stairs, and said, "May a friend comeup?"
"Mercy on me!" said the mother, "there is Mr. ---"
"Come in, sir," said Jane; "I am very glad you are come _now_. Mother,set a chair."
The woman looked confused. Jane smiled as I entered, and welcomed me asusual.
"I hope I shall be forgiven, both by mother and daughter, for havingremained so long below stairs, during the conversation which has justtaken place. I came in the hope of finding you together, as I have had awish for some time past to speak to you, Sarah, on the same subjectsabout which, I am happy to say, your daughter is so anxious. You havelong neglected these things, and I wished to warn you of the danger ofyour state; but Jenny has said all I could desire, and I now solemnly askyou, whether you are not much affected by your poor child's faithfulconversation? You ought to have been _her_ teacher and instructor in theways of righteousness, whereas she has now become _yours_. Happy,however, will it be for you if you are wise, and consider your latterend, and the things which belong to your peace, before they are hiddenfrom your eyes! Look at your dying child, and think of your other andonly remaining one, and say whether this sight does not call aloud uponyou to hear and fear."
Jane's eyes were filled with tears whilst I spoke. The woman hung herhead down, but betrayed some emotions of dislike at the plain dealingused towards her.
"My child, Jenny," said I, "how are you to-day?"
"Sir, I have been talking a good deal, and feel rather faint and weary,but my mind has been very easy and happy since I last saw you. I amquite willing to die, when the Lord sees fit. I have no wish to liveexcept it be to see my friends in a better way before I depart. Sir, Iused to be afraid to speak to them; but I feel to-day as if I could holdmy peace no longer, and I must tell them what the Lord has done for mysoul, and what I feel for theirs."
There was a firmness, I may say a dignity with which this was utteredthat surprised me. The character of the child seemed to be lost in thatof the Christian; her natural timidity yielded to a holy assurance ofmanner resulting from her own inward consolations, mingled with spiritualdesire for her mother's welfare. This produced a flush upon herotherwise pallid countenance, which in no small degree added to herinteresting appearance. The Bible lay open before her as she sat up inthe bed. With her right hand she enclosed her mother's.
"Mother, this book _you_ cannot read; you should therefore go constantlyto church, that you may hear it explained. It is God's book, and tellsus the way to heaven; I hope you will learn and mind it; with God'sblessing it may save your soul. Do think of that, mother, pray do. I amsoon going to die. Give this Bible to my brother; and will you be sokind, sir, as to instruct him? Mother, remember what I say, and thisgentleman is witness: there is no salvation for sinners like you and mebut in the blood of Christ; he is able to save to the uttermost; he willsave all that come to him; he waits to be gracious: cast yourself uponhis mercy. I wish--I wish--I--I--I--"
She was quite overcome, and sank away in a kind of fainting fit.
Her mother observed, that she would now probably remain insensible forsome time before she recovered.
I improved this interval in a serious address to the woman, and thenprepared to take my departure, perceiving that Jane was too muchexhausted for further conversation at that time.
As I was leaving the room, the child said faintly, "Come again soon, sir;my time is very short."
I returned home by the same retired road which I had before chosen. Isilently meditated on the eminent proofs of piety and faith which werejust afforded me in the scene I had witnessed.
Surely, I thought, this is an extraordinary child! What cannot graceaccomplish? Is it possible to doubt after this, _who_ is the aloneAuthor and Finisher of salvation; or from _whom_ cometh every good andperfect gift? How rich and free is the mercy of Jehovah! Hath not he"chosen the weak things of this world to confound the things which aremighty?" Let no flesh glory in his presence: but "he that glorieth, lethim glory in the Lord."