of tears--my friend, my husband, my God, and my all.--Able to meet
both my classes, and felt energy of spirit while urging on the members
the necessity of keeping up communion with God; I requested them to
give a quarter of an hour every day, to pray for the prosperity of
their class, and of their own souls."
In the midnight of my grief,
Up to Thee, I lift my eye;
Grant, O grant me sweet relief,
Let me feel Thy presence nigh;
Nothing else can succour bring,
Here alone I rest my hope;
To Thy bleeding cross I cling,
Lift the drooping sinner up.
"I changed my residence for one in St. Saviourgate, near the house of
God; for this I desire to be thankful, and to dedicate myself to
the Lord; having sincerely sought His counsel and direction, I feel
satisfied.
"Easingwold. We were much led out in prayer, that the Lord would this
day bring some one to seek Him. In the evening three persons came in,
one evidently desirous of salvation; may this encourage the efforts of
thy handmaid to seek the benefit of the people in this place.--I feel
much the absence of my dear departed husband. His memory is dear. O
Lord, help me to quicken my steps to meet him in heaven. My body is
trembling and feeble; but my soul is vigorous. I have to-day resigned
my office of Treasurer to the Clothing Society, which I have held
nearly sixteen years.--Six months since my husband entered into rest.
He is daily in my thoughts; but I see him not. I do not wish him back
again; a little time will bring me to him, and I shall be as _learned_
as he. Time hastens on!--At ten o'clock Mr. C. changed worlds. Solemn
hour! All the morning, I know not why, he was strongly impressed upon
my mind.--I am alone, all is still, my soul feels after God. This
day feed me with the riches of Thy grace, that I may abide in Thee,
breathe Thy Spirit, live in Thy smile, and, like Apollos, be 'approved
in Christ.'
"1854.--I would here gratefully record the mercy of God to me. I
have been brought low--very low, but the Lord helped me. I felt no
condemnation, yet but little sensible comfort. Many promises were
constantly passing through my mind. Thus the Lord has been leading me
by a path I had not known.--I have not been to the Sanctuary yet, nor
would I rest in the means; but I want a clearer manifestation. I see
the scriptures hold forth more than I possess; I want to be closer
knit to Jesus, that I may bring forth fruit. Have declined the
presidency of the sewing meeting."
[On this resignation a letter, numerously signed by the ladies
composing the meeting, was sent to her, acknowledging her services,
and regretting that increasing age and infirmities had rendered it
necessary. This document is not forthcoming, but the following is her
own reply.]
"MY DEAR MRS. HOLGATE,--I sit down to acknowledge
with gratitude the kind note you presented me with, signed by
so many kind friends, in acknowledgment of my poor services
in a cause which lies near my heart. Thankful I am, that from
a small beginning in our parlour, about seventeen years ago, this
effort for the glorious cause of missions has flourished to this
day; and that now so many hearts and hands are engaged in
its operations and success. I still feel interested in its prosperity,
and if I have one desire above the rest, it is that every one who
assists in this good work may not only have her hands employed
in it, but her heart enriched by the blessed gospel she wishes to
send to heathen lands, and that every effort may have God's
approving smile. I am, &c."
"I think I never felt more free to leave the world than now; and yet
quite willing to wait the Lord's time, that I may be fully prepared.
"Acomb. Mrs. R. took me to see some sick persons, also some wayside
hearers; 'but who is sufficient for these things?' Speak Lord, and
let them hear Thy voice!--At the prayer-meeting after the service, a
backslider was restored to the favour of God; I was knelt by her side,
and a holy calm pervaded my heart, when suddenly my soul, as by an
electric shock, was filled with confidence in the willingness and
power of God to save.--Went to see some of my absent members; and
passing by Mrs. O.'s, whose husband died about a fortnight since, I
called to inquire after her, and to my surprise and grief, found her
in dying circumstances. She died the same evening. I fear for her; yet
she used to weep, and for a time seemed in earnest. Have visited her
many times in her afflictions.--Calling in at a neighbour's shop for a
trifling article, I learned that the daughter was depressed in mind;
I felt a desire to see her, and asked permission, which was granted.
After saying what was given me, I prayed with her, feeling sweetly
assisted: when we arose from our knees she unburthened her mind,
and told me she had 'grieved the Spirit' and now, not feeling His
strivings, she had ceased to pray, and had given, up all. O that the
Lord may bring her out of this snare of the devil!"
Hark, how they strike their harps of gold
In yonder world above!
I wonder what its scenes unfold,--
For not a thousandth part is told,
Of those bright lands of love,
Not long-ere wonder shall expire,
In sweet fruition lost;
My spirit, borne on wings of fire,
Shall mount, and revel, and admire,
With all the heavenly host.
"1855.--A letter reached us from my beloved Richard, bringing tidings
of health, both of body and soul, and of his intended removal to
Auckland; but holding out little prospect of his return to England,
by the words _'if ever.'_ Thus is long cherished hope cut off, when I
thought it about to be realized."
[About the beginning of this year she had a severe attack of
bronchitis, and all hope of her recovery seemed cut off. Although able
to say little, she maintained a calm and settled confidence in God,
and was evidently longing after home. The morning after the crisis was
past, the doctor said to her, 'Well, Mrs. Lyth, I have some hope of
you.' She replied, 'So have I, but it is the other way.']
"After a sudden and severe attack of affliction, I would most
gratefully acknowledge the merciful care of my heavenly Father, who
has not left me, but comforted me by His word and Spirit. My friends
also have not forgotten me; I have every comfort during this inclement
season. The earth is covered with snow, the cold piercing, and the day
gloomy; but mercy folds me in on every side, and my spirit rests on
Jesus, my atoning Saviour. While I write, my heart warms and kindles
at His love.--I am left alone this eighteenth of February, which,
forty-five years ago, was so important. Well, it is written, 'Thy
Maker is thy husband, the Lord of hosts is His name.' and to Him will
I plight my vows. Alone, on my knees, I again surrender to Thee my
poor heart, and again take the pledge of Thy love. From this time
forth may I swerve from Thee no more, but walk my few remaining days
with Thee; having the testimony that Enoch had, that I please God. And
now I am Thine by solemn ties, in the solemn silence of Thy presence,
all praise be unto Thee, who dost thus condescend to Thy dust.--Have
just returned from a drive. The air is very sweet, and nature puts
forth her loveliness. My soul was led out to Him who has prepared
greater things than these for those that love Him. My spirit is
revived. 'Bless the Lord, O my soul.'--Riding out yesterday, I called
to see my dear friend Isaac, who, like myself, is waiting until her
change come;--a touching little interview. She told me while she was
praying for me in my affliction, it was impressed upon her mind, 'My
power is unlimited.' O may it be exerted in my full preparation for
eternal glory, to meet my dear friend there. I sometimes get transient
glimpses of it. I feel myself a helpless worm, but the name of Jesus
is sweet. There is none I desire in comparison of Him. Though I
cannot get out I am able to read, and the word of truth is my constant
companion.--A beautiful day: the sun shines in splendour, but sin
spoils all the beauty. While my eyes are cheered with what I see, my
heart is saddened with what I hear. One has fallen into sin,--one
I have highly esteemed in time past. What need to put on 'the whole
armour of God,' and watch!--I felt more vigorous in my classes to-day,
and spoke very plainly, for I feel a great love for these souls.
"Thou art, O God, the life and light
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from Thee;
Where'er we turn Thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine."
"I feel decaying nature; but my soul does not lose its appetite for
divine things. In the midst of forgetfulness, and other infirmities,
my only centre is in Christ.--As the day was fine, I walked to Heworth
in search of an absent member, and after many inquiries, found out her
abode; but she was not at home. I got some important information about
her. My walk was a most impressive one,--on a lovely road, on either
side overhung with foliage--but, being autumn, the way was strewed
with withered leaves, while every breeze, though soft, wafted others
to the ground in showers;--fit emblem of my own decay! I was
much wearied.--The Rev. Robert Young, who has recently been on a
deputation to the South Sea Missions, selected Fiji as the topic of
his speech at the Missionary Meeting, and gave a very cheering account
of my Richard, in the midst of cannibalism. I went into the vestry to
speak with him; but was overwhelmed with my feelings. Have been laid
aside by affliction; but the Lord has been intimately near. My faith
has been strengthened, and I cling more closely to my best Friend.
Many blessed promises have been brought to remembrance, which have
cheered me, and created sweet peace.--My faith wants to borrow the
pinions of the eagle. Lord help me, I am Thine; I dare trust in Thee;
unprofitable as I am, Thou art my God.--My thought before I rose this
morning was:--
Down life's declivity,
Borne by the surge,
On to eternity,
Swiftly I urge;
Not without cheering hope,
When I am gone,
Jesus will bear me up,
Straight to His throne."
1856.--[A few lines written at the commencement of this year, contain
the following reference to a circumstance, which, trivial as it was in
itself, had nearly occasioned the loss of her sight.]
Time rushes on! Another scene appears!
In springtide thought, I stood upon the hearth;
"When in a moment, from the crackling flame
A piece of burning ore flew in my eye,
And suddenly eclipsed the light of day.
But He who opened blind men's eyes of old,
Restored my sight. * * * *
"I am sensible of the want of gratitude for the sight I have; though
it is but imperfect, I can, by close attention, read my Bible, which
at first was all I desired.--Visited two of my members, each of whom
has had a fit, one being deprived of the left hand, and the other of
the right;--humbling cause of gratitude that I can use mine.
Youth with all its hopes is past,
And middle life-with care;
Now, in feeble age, I cast
My all on God by prayer.
Exiled yet a little while,
But guided by His eye;
Happy I live beneath His smile,
And happier still--shall die."
"My meditations this morning have been sweet, on the words, 'Thou
shalt also be a crown of glory in the hand of the Lord, and a royal
diadem in the hand of thy God.' I cannot increase God's glory; but
I--a worm--in the hand of my God, become crowned with glory.--My niece
Caroline has departed this life. In a lucid moment, one asked, if
Christ was precious; she answered, 'Yes' It was added, 'Just such a
Saviour as you need?' 'Exactly,' was the reply.--I have given up my
own house, and removed to my daughter Eliza's hoping the blessing of
the Lord will attend the change. My mind has, beyond my expectation,
been preserved in peace.--Came with my daughter to Haxby, for the
benefit of a change. O that Thou wouldst bless my coming to _one_
soul!--Called upon Mrs. S., and was glad to find her desirous of
knowing the truth, as also her daughter. I feel peculiarly drawn out
in prayer, on behalf of the inhabitants of this village. Oh! that a
glorious revival may break out here.--The means of grace are not
so plentiful in Haxby as in the city; but here I enjoy the quiet of
retirement, and breathe a purer atmosphere. Often the Spirit wafts me
on to the better land, and I contemplate with pleasure my everlasting
home."
[Who can tell what shall be on the morrow? But a few weeks elapsed
after this visit to Haxby, when her daughter Eliza, whose loving and
gentle spirit endeared her to all who knew her, was taken away at
a stroke. On the day on which the following entry is dated, she had
exhibited an unusual degree of vivacity; and with great confidence
borne testimony in the class to the power of the grace of God.]
"A goodly number at the class. In the evening Eliza read to Mrs. C.
and myself the interesting adieu of the French Protestant Minister,
Adolphe Monod, introduced into the November number of the Methodist
Magazine for 1856. We sat down to supper, and mournful to relate! she
was seized with a fit of apoplexy, which lasted until nearly three in
the morning, when her spirit calmly took its flight. How needful to
be ready!--My dear daughter was carried to the cemetery, there to
rest until the resurrection morn. While passing through this painful
dispensation, I have enjoyed the sweet consolations of the Spirit of
God, and been able to recognize mercy mingled with judgment. The same
evening my Eliza passed into the skies, my son William was appointed
to meet a few of the Lord's people.--The year heaves its last sigh,
as I review the way in which God has led me. Very painful events have
occurred. Scenes pleasant, and sad, have passed before me; but around,
and over all, mercy has spread a cloud of light; and here will I raise
my heart, and say, 'Hitherto the Lord hath helped me.'"
XXII.
THE LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF EVENING.
"THE DAY GOETH AWAY, FOR THE SHADOWS OF EVENING ARE
STRETCHED FORTH."--Jer. vi. 4.
Have you ever observed the effect produced upon the eye by the rapid
decrease of light, which takes place as night draws on, during that
season of the year in which the twilight is shortest? For some minutes
there appears a rapid succession of light and shade, each succeeding
shadow deepening in gloom, until the night sets in. This phenomenon
arises from the necessity which the pupil of the eye finds of adapting
itself to the diminution of light; and it has hardly done so, before
the increasing darkness requires a still further expansion of the
visual aperture. Just so in human life, when its brightness has
departed, and the night is at hand; there is often a rapid succession
of painful occurrences, which fall like shadows upon the soul, and it
has continually to adapt itself to its altered circumstances. The eye
of faith can scarce keep pace with the demands made upon it, and the
effect is a sense of occasional depression, which even the Christian
cannot altogether resist. In the last two or three years of her life,
Mrs. Lyth experienced what it was to be "in heaviness through manifold
temptations;" and although she wore the same happy smile, exhibited
the same unwavering, and even triumphant confidence in God, and to
all around her, it was evident she was fast ripening for her glorious
reward; her diary shows that she was, in some of her solitary hours,
subject to momentary depression; which, as she made no allowance for
altered circumstances, and increasing infirmities, she was in danger
of attributing to a wrong cause. It was not until after the death of
her husband that there was any perceptible decline of her physical
energies; the "snow of age" fell lightly, so that she still continued
for some time to discharge her accustomed duties in the church, until
increasing weakness compelled her to relinquish, one by one, her
visiting district for the Benevolent Society; her collecting books for
various Institutions; the Visitation of the school; the Treasurership
of the Poor Clothing Society; the Presidency of the Sewing meeting;
and last, and to her the most painful of all--her Class; for like her
Lord, having loved her own, which were in the world, she loved them to
the end. This unavoidable cessation from her "more abundant" labours,
and the life of passive suffering she was now called to endure,
perhaps more than anything else, was sometimes a source of painful
reflection, and became an occasion of powerful temptation. She could
not, however, be inactive; much of her time passed in reading and
prayer. Her pen and her knitting-needle were in constant requisition,
and a fine day, or a little renewal of strength, often induced her, at
the peril of her own health, to visit an unconverted neighbour, or an
afflicted friend. The sudden removal of her daughter was acutely felt,
and elicited several efforts of her muse, two of which are here given.
"1857.--Gone! gone! gone! The empty chair I see,
But ah! no smile, as once, alights on me.
In what bright region doth thy spirit rest?
Since all are living, thou art surely blest.
I ask no more, the veil will soon remove,
And I shall come to dwell with thee above.
"Just before I awoke, I dreamed I was reading; and it was written, 'He
will receive thee to Himself, and give unto thee a kingdom.' It was
repeated thrice."
LONE MUSING.
Doth her spirit hover near!
Doth she ever watch o'er me?
Am I still to her as dear
As when in flesh she cared for me?
If she now, with wistful eyes,
Strives, unseen, to draw me higher;
Let me wisdom doubly prize,
More and more to heaven aspire.
Lo! the Spirit and the Bride
Lovingly invite me on,--
Seek my wandering heart to guide
To the Father, through the Son.
I will answer to the call;
Thou my portion, I Thy child;
Here in self-abasement fall,
Trusting in Thy mercy mild.
"I am glad to hear that in Haxby the Lord has been giving 'showers of
blessing.' Mr. McOwan has given twenty-nine notes on trial. I am the
Lord's prisoner; looking up, yet I feel my lonely position.--It was
suggested, 'I am thy salvation.' I paused and asked, from what? From
the world, sin, self, and thy deadly foes. 'I am thy salvation,' from
all thy inward evils; pride, unbelief, love of the creature, from
every thing contrary to love. This salvation is all mine, through
Christ, by faith.--Rose a little after six; very feeble; nearly read
through the book of Ezra, and saw how God helps the good in times of
difficulty. I feel depressed: Lord, help me!--I rode to the Cemetery
to see the spot where my Eliza lies. Well, a little while, and I hope
to join her among the spirits of the just made perfect. I proceeded
from thence to my brother's in Dove Street.--Have been a week in Dove
Street. Through mercy I have been able to rise every morning at six;
and while reading Dr. Clarke's Theology, my spiritual strength has
been, renewed. I have enjoyed many blessings from the Lord, and my
time has passed pleasantly, but my poor brother is very, very
infirm. I have called on several friends in the street, and had the
opportunity of praying in two families.--Latterly, during the night
season, the enemy has afflicted my mind with painful temptations; but
I am not left to myself, the Lord is my helper.--To-day I was much
drawn out in prayer for one of my grandsons. Surely the Spirit moved
me. After tea, four of my grandsons, and my daughter, bowed with me
before the Lord. It was a time to be remembered. The Lord drew near,
and I was melted down before Him.--Weak yet pursuing. My daughter Mary
unexpectedly read to me the words, 'Lo! I am with you alway even to
the end of the world.' The truth thrilled through my heart, as a flash
of lightning.--Sweet peace. This evening a stranger, brought by E.F.,
came to converse on spiritual subjects. We prayed together, and the
Lord drew near.--Alone; but graciously moved by my heavenly Father to
pour out my soul in prayer; I enjoyed sweet access by the Holy Spirit,
on behalf of many dear ones. Glory be to God, that to a worm He
manifests His presence, and reveals His love. Mary had a note from
Richard, informing us of a change of purpose respecting his return to
England. Well; if they commit their way unto the Lord, they will
not err far. This shall be my prayer for them, while strength is
continued.--Awoke by a fit of coughing, I heard as if a voice spoke
to me, 'Union with Jesus gives the power of patience.' I feel it.--Met
the Lord's people in great weakness, but with great longing for their
spiritual health. Miss R. read me a letter from Miss K., informing
her of the happy change, which had taken place in her mind. My soul
rejoiced to hear the news, particularly as she had been for some time
laid upon my mind whenever I approached the throne of grace."
"1858.--My John spent a few days with us. I have enjoyed his company
more than ever before; perhaps I prayed more, that it might be so. I
think I feel more deeply the hallowing influence of prayer. My soul
feeds on Jesus. Glory be to God for a Saviour."
While midnight shadows blended,
And nature seem'd to sleep,
Me, angel watchers tended,
Who always vigil keep;
I felt them hov'ring o'er me,
Though hidden from my view;
A veil was spread before me,
But is the thought less true?
Watch'd by these heavenly strangers,
'Who all my paths attend,'
And oft from foes and dangers,
My progress would defend;
O give me circumspection
To guard against the foe,
Then, sure of their protection,
I on to conquest go.
"Only nine present at the class. I spoke to them, but felt the effect
upon my feeble body for two days afterward; yet it was good to talk to
them of the love of Jesus.--I have been exercised by the common foe;
depressed in feeling, but never left without the power to draw near
to God in prayer. Thank God, for some days past my spirit has been
revived; and this morning my heart is trusting in the Lord, Glorious
news from America! The Lord is saving by thousands. O that the breath
of heaven may reach our own shores!"
O time how precious I what a load misused!
To catch its flight is wise; to waste or loiter, folly.
Reader, and writer, mark! Thy time escapes:
To give it now a name is golden, gain.
Oh! with true wisdom print thy passing hours,
So shall eternity proclaim thy fame.
"My two sons, William and John, set forth to welcome their brother
Richard, just returned by the ship 'Duncan Dunbar'--after an absence
of more than twenty-one years--with a family of six children--a
gracious providence having watched over him; and now the happy
brotherhood will, I trust, be perpetuated, until consummated in
heaven.--My son Richard, with his lovely wife and family, have
arrived.--I am now seventy-six years old. How much cause of
humiliation! How much cause of gratitude! Here upon my knees I give
myself to Thee; I am Thine. Let Thy presence be communicated with
fresh power to my soul. I do thank Thee for peace, and a full bent
to please Thee.--My son Richard conducted me to my new residence on
Heworth Road. Often have I changed my abode, supposing each would be
the last remove: yet I tarry. All I want is to move under the smile of
my heavenly Father, and to feel myself under his guiding eye.--Poorly.
Inward conflicts. Went to see a person, who was once a member of my
class; she is still in the way to heaven. We prayed together. Here, at
the throne of grace, I find myself at home. I was at my class, perhaps
for the last time. God bless the dear members."
Graven on the hand divine,
Bid me on Thy strength lay hold,
Look, believe, for Thou art mine;
Jesus makes me humbly bold.
Though Thy courts I may not tread,
Thou art in my mouth, and heart;
In Thy holy book I read,
God in every place Thou art.
With more love inflame my soul,
With more fervent zeal inspire;--
Faith, that can all power control,
Fill the grasp of my desire.
Let Thy word of mercy spread
Freely, all the village round:
Speak to-day, and wake the dead,
Let the lost in Thee be found.
"My friends are gone to the Sanctuary. Looking at myself in the light
of the divine presence, I see imperfection stamped upon all my doings;
and yet, through mercy, I have an interest in the precious blood of
atonement, and long that all around me may enjoy the same salvation.
While now my pen moves upon the paper, move Thou upon the hearts of
the people, who have long been favoured with hearing the voice of Thy
ministers. Arouse the careless; stir up Thy people; and this day pour
out Thy Spirit upon us all; and now, while alone; help my infirmities;
visit me, and give me increase of faith.--Inward conflicts and
wandering of mind have brought me to my knees."
To God I tell my utmost care,
And find my place of refuge there.