The Pearl of Days.
“The Sundays of man’s life,
Threaded together on Time’s string,
Make bracelets to adorn the wife
Of the eternal glorious King.
On Sundays heaven’s door stands ope,
Blessings are plentiful and rife,
More plentiful than hope.”
GEORGE HERBERT.
[Illustration]
THE
PEARL OF DAYS:
OR,
THE ADVANTAGES OF THE SABBATH TO
THE WORKING CLASSES
BY A LABOURER’S DAUGHTER.
WITH A SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR’S LIFE, BY HERSELF,
AND
A Preface by an American Clergyman.
NEW-YORK:
EDWARD H. FLETCHER, 141 NASSAU STREET.
MDCCCL.
[Illustration]
TO THE
=Queen’s Most Excellent Majesty=:
Madam--
Humble as is this tribute of loyalty, it is not without significance.
No sovereign ever presented stronger claims to the love and
allegiance of her industrious subjects; and it tells how happy is our
Constitution, and how condescending is our Monarch, that pages written
by a labourer’s daughter should find a Patron in the Queen.
Nor will the Tract itself be without its interest to your Majesty,
to whose Royal Halls such glory is added by the piety, virtue, and
domestic affections so often found in Britain’s lowliest homes.
This Tract discusses the Temporal Advantages of the Sabbath Day. The
same topic has recently engaged the pens of nearly a thousand working
men. And it is not the least advantage of the Lord’s day, that every
labourer who learns to keep it holy is another peaceful citizen gained
to the community, and another added to those best subjects who, in
their weekly assemblies, pray, GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.
I have the honour to be
Your Majesty’s
Most obedient and very humble Servant,
THE PROPOSER OF THE ESSAY.
JULY, 1848.
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.
I have been requested by the publisher to introduce this little volume
to the notice of American readers. “THE PEARL OF DAYS; _The Advantages
of the Sabbath to the Working Classes_. By a Labourer’s Daughter.” How
much is expressed in such a title-page! Does the book realize the hopes
which at once suggest themselves to the intelligent and benevolent mind?
To do this, the book should indicate on the part of the author a
degree of cultivation not usual in her sphere of life, and attest
this cultivation as the fruit of proper Sabbath observance. And such
cannot fail to be the results to which every reader will arrive. These
pages will reveal a mind of singular discipline and acuteness, of
large observation and much philosophical power,--a heart imbued with
sentiments of devout and cheerful piety, contented with its lot on
earth, and looking for its better inheritance in heaven;--and all these
in necessary connection with a domestic training, in which a labouring
man’s cottage illustrates the true idea of the Christian Sabbath.
I commend the “Pearl of Days” to readers of every class, but
particularly I commend it
I. TO PARENTS. To them its Sketch of the Author’s Life will exhibit
hints and illustrations pertaining to domestic discipline and
happiness, such as convince by their wisdom, and win by their beauty,
such as adapt themselves equally to the homes of princes and peasants,
and indicate the true methods of training children for any grade of
life in which their lot may be cast.
II. TO THE FRIENDS OF SOCIAL PROGRESS. The evils of society have
awakened the sympathy of the benevolent. The best methods of removing
them, especially of removing such as oppress the working classes, are
subjects which everywhere task the thoughts of the wise and good. Let
all such sit at the feet of the Labourer’s Daughter. She has received
wisdom at the feet of Christ. She teaches the true social regeneration.
Philosophers, economists, statesmen, can develop no theories of
progress so certainly promising and assuring virtue, order, industry,
plenty, concord, happiness.
III. TO THE WORKING CLASSES THEMSELVES. In America, more than in any
other land on earth, the working classes may work out for themselves an
honourable destiny. To a wide extent, these classes are conscious of
their opportunities. Many a mother in the hut of poverty presses her
child to her heart, and anticipates for him a sphere of life higher
than her own. How shall she place his feet in the path which leads to
it? This question starts in her thoughts a thousand times. Here she
may solve it. Asking a higher destiny, the working classes cry, “Who
will show us any good?” And responses come back to them in numberless
forms,--one telling them that their rise in the social scale is to
be secured by the triumph of a political party, or by the success of
certain measures of public policy,--another bidding them seek relief
in “Unions” for the regulation of the wages of labour, and for mutual
protection against the oppressions of employers--and another declaring
that their depression is the fruit of a false social organization, and
will find its remedy in the schemes of “Association.” But these are not
responses of wisdom and truth. The labouring classes must work out
their own rise, through their own intelligence and virtue. Intelligent
and virtuous, they will command respect; they will be neither the dupes
of the designing, nor the slaves of the tyrannical. On these points
they will find this little volume, from one of their own class, full
of counsels gathered from the source of all truth. Let them ponder
thoughtfully its pages.
I need not explain the occasion of the publication of this Essay in
England. That is sufficiently explained in the Introduction which
follows. It has had a large circulation in that country, under the
patronage of the great and good, and dedicated, by her own cheerful
permission, to the excellent woman who sits upon the British throne,
and exalts her lofty position by her exemplary piety. I cannot doubt
that the Essay will be equally acceptable on this side of the water,
and as fruitful in beneficent influences.
_New York, Nov. 15 1848._
INTRODUCTION.
The circumstances out of which the following Essay, with its
accompanying Sketch of the Author’s Life, originated, are as remarkable
as they are deeply interesting and hopeful. Jealous for the honour of
God’s Sabbath, which men of the world were periling--jealous for the
privileges to man conferred by the Sabbath--jealous for the labouring
man, whose feelings respecting the Sabbath were often misrepresented
to his disadvantage, a layman resolved to afford an opportunity for
the working classes to speak their own mind freely on the matter, and
to bear their testimony to the blessings and privileges of the day,
and thereby to the glory of God, the author and giver of it. With
these views, he put forth a proposal, about the end of the year 1847,
offering three prizes--of £25, £15, and £10, respectively--for the
three best Essays on the subject, written by labouring men. Although
this is the first instance upon record of persons of that class being
invited to become competitors in literature, and for literary honours;
and although comparatively a very brief time was allowed for preparing
and sending in the Essays, yet three months--the first three of the
year 1848--sufficed to produce the astonishing number of more than
nine hundred and fifty compositions, manifesting by the single fact,
without reference to the merits of these productions, the wide-spread
interest and deeply-rooted principles with which the holy day of God
is reverenced, loved, and honoured, by the labouring people.
Amongst the Essays received was one from a female, accompanied by a
letter, which will be found at the conclusion of this Introduction,
and which the reader will peruse with interest, as indicating the
habitual tone of Divine and filial piety which pervades the mind of
the writer. The Essay itself was found to be correspondent in tone and
spirit with the letter. It is, indeed, a composition of no ordinary
kind, whether we regard the source from whence it came, the instructive
matter it contains, or the manner in which the materials are worked
up in the composition, and the diction in which they are expressed.
The Adjudicators, although, in faithfulness to the other competitors,
constrained to lay it aside, as the work of a female, yet felt at the
same time that it was a production which ought not to be withheld
from the world, and that it was a duty as much to humanity as to
the talented writer herself, not to suffer it to return to privacy
and forgetfulness. It was, therefore, proposed to her to allow of
its publication, independently of the forthcoming Prize Essays when
adjudged, and she was requested, at the same time, to write a sketch
of her life to prefix to the Essay when published. In both of these
proposals she willingly acquiesced; and the reader has before him two
equally remarkable and interesting compositions, the Essay and the
Sketch.[1]
[1] It may be proper to state, that in preparing the Essay and
Sketch for publication, no liberty has been taken with the author’s
composition, farther than to render the language correct. For the
satisfaction of any persons who may wish to see the manuscript, it can
be inspected at the publishers.--ED.
To an ordinary mind the preparation of the latter would have been even
more difficult than the former. Here was the opportunity for and
danger of egotism. But here also was the opportunity for the exhibition
and proof of real talent, and of genuine piety. To sink self, and
to elevate principles, should be the sole object of autobiography.
To effect this in a sketch is even more difficult than in a tale of
life. It requires the hand of a master to give off with the pencil
those few but telling touches that convert surface into substance, and
place on the blank void forms of life, and grace, and comeliness. And
no less talent does it demand to portray in words those truthful and
instructive scenes which the homes of the godly present, amid which our
authoress lived and was nourished, and of which it may justly be said
that she is herself one of their noblest ornaments.
Our authoress has learned by experience, and has ably developed in her
sketch, some of the most useful and valuable lessons of life. One of
these is beautifully and powerfully given in the following words: “How
often are opportunities of doing small acts of kindness and usefulness
let slip, while we are sighing over our narrow sphere and our limited
means of serving God or benefiting man!” Would it not be a melancholy
and unwholesome sentimentality that should sit down and lament over
itself as having no space capacious enough for its designs, and no
arena worthy of its visions, instead of contenting itself with the many
common opportunities of doing good which every-day life supplies? It
may sound, indeed, well to sigh over oneself in such circumstances,
“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air;”
and, by appropriating the idea to our own condition, hug ourselves with
the fancy that we would, if we might, make ourselves widely useful
in our generation; but far nobler, surely, and far more worthy of our
imitation, is the devout and holy thought expressed in the following
stanza:
“The trivial round, the common task,
Should furnish all we ought to ask;
Room to deny ourselves; a road
To bring us, daily, nearer God.”
How admirably are brought out, in every part of this Sketch, some of
those lessons most profitable for the wife and the mother to practise!
What a valuable one, for example, is this! My mother “used to say that
it was disagreeable and improper to be bustling about while father was
within; and when he was gone out, the work must be done up.” Oh that
wives and mothers understood and practised this wisely and well! What
different scenes would the cottager’s home present if they did! How
many a man would be saved from the alehouse fireside, where comfort and
convenience are studied to seduce him into sin, if wives and mothers
would but so order their households that when the father returns his
coming shall be welcomed by cleanliness and peace, and his home shall
be made to him the most blessed and grateful place that he can find!
What a beautiful family picture is this whole Sketch! No wonder that
our authoress is capable of being such a daughter, when she has had
such a mother to instruct her. Think, reader, of the child repeating
her lessons beside the wash-tub, and gleaning the rudiments of learning
in so simple a school, and from such a preceptor; and then turn to
the pages of this Sketch and Essay, and as you read, and admire, and
wonder, as you must, adore humbly as you ought, and exclaim, What hath
God wrought! It is His work. It is the edifying effect and power of His
grace. To Him be all the glory and the praise!
LETTER REFERRED TO IN PAGE 15.
“SIR,--I have thought it unnecessary to inquire whether a female might
be permitted to enter among the competitors for the prizes offered
in your advertisement. The subject of the Essay is of equal interest
to woman as to man; and this being the case, I have looked upon your
restriction as merely confining this effort to the working classes.
Whether I judge rightly or not, matters but little; the effort I
have made to gather a few thoughts together upon this subject will
at least be of use to myself; and should you consider these sheets
as containing any thoughts of value, they are at your disposal.
They cannot be expected to be free from errors, both in diction and
orthography, as this is the first effort of the kind I have ever made;
and I may say I am one of those who never enjoyed the advantage of
attending school in early days, except for two years, or rather for
one; for it was but for two years that one of my sisters and myself
attended a sewing-school alternately; one of us remaining at home
one week, to assist mother with household labour, or in attending to
the younger children, and going to school next week, while the other
remained at home. Since that time I have been constantly occupied in
household labour, either in my father’s house, or as a servant in
other families; and thus I may truly say, that all the education I
have enjoyed, was received at the fireside of hard-working parents.
While memory lasts I shall never forget the indefatigable exertions of
our beloved mother to impart intelligence to our minds, and implant
moral principle in her children. How we used to enjoy our Sabbaths!
When our father bent his knees, with his children around, on the
morning of the Lord’s day, how fervently he used to thank the Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ for its blessed hours! That father is gone
from among his children; but his voice yet falls upon my ear, and his
form yet rises before my eye, as upon the first day of the week he
used to read to us the sacred page, and lead our devotions.”
SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR’S LIFE.
The following sketch of my past history, which, at your request,
I furnish, can be of little interest or value, any farther than
perhaps leading the minds of Christian parents properly to estimate
the importance of the duties devolving upon them, and begetting a
higher appreciation of the value of the weekly rest, as affording
an opportunity to all Christians, however poor their circumstances,
or laborious their employment, of imparting instruction to their
offspring. It may tend also to show that no Christian mother, with
the Bible in her hand, and possessing the power of reading and
understanding the blessed truths it reveals, can plead excuse if
she allow her children to grow up in ignorance of those truths, the
knowledge of which would lead them in safety and happiness through all
the temptations to which youth is exposed in this world of folly and
wickedness.
If she properly estimates the importance of the blessings imparted by
the knowledge of God, and really feels the power of the love of God in
her own heart, poverty may surround her, the pressure of domestic cares
may lie heavily upon her, or she may be engaged in the most menial and
laborious employment, but, in the midst of all this, she will find
opportunity to awaken and enlighten the young minds of her offspring.
It is the duty of Christian parents, in whatever situation in life, to
train up their children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; and
it is a duty which they can entrust to no one else without a direct
violation of the command of their Saviour, and incurring a fearful risk
as regards the well-being of their children.
Is it not a strange sight, to see a Christian parent so deeply involved
in business, so engrossed with the cares of this life, or so occupied
with other matters, however important, that he is compelled to entrust
the moral and religious training of his children to a hireling?--a
preacher so much engaged in proclaiming the Gospel to sinners in the
world, that he has no time to lead his own little ones to the feet of
Jesus?--a father so occupied with the improvement of his neighbours,
with Sabbath-schools, prayer and class meetings, or evening lectures
and sermons, that he has no leisure to lead, in proper season, the
devotions of his own little circle at home? Such a man substitutes
his own way for the will of God; and, in so far as he does so, the
consequences will be seen in the future character of his children; and
even he himself will suffer loss in the health of his own soul.
Parents, with the Bible in their hands, and the word of God hidden
in their hearts, having the blessed hours of Sabbath rest as their
birthright, however humble their circumstances or toilsome their life,
can never be entirely destitute of an opportunity for training and
instructing their offspring.
In glancing back on the years of childhood, and tracing the influences
which have surrounded me through youth, I am convinced, that, in so
far as my mind has been awakened to intelligence, and my character
formed to virtue, under God, I owe all to my parents, but especially
to my mother: her earnest and indefatigable exertions, in the face of
difficulties which would have deterred any common mind from attempting
such a task, together with her ceaseless watchfulness, secured for us
such an amount of knowledge, and formed in us such habits, as raised
us above the temptations which usually beset youth in the humble walks
of life. While the constant necessity existed, as soon as we were able
to do anything--for all our exertions toward the support of the family
allowed us little time to cultivate acquaintances, whether injurious or
beneficial--our mother’s constant endeavour was, even through the very
early years of childhood, to keep our hands and heads fully employed.
Memory carries me back to a period when my parents, with five little
ones around them, tenanted an obscure garret in the outskirts of one
of the principal towns of Scotland. By some of those vicissitudes
common to all, my father was, at this time, out of employment;
hardships were endured, pinching want sometimes visited their fireside.
Of these things I have heard, but have no recollection of them, as I
could not then be much more than four years old. Yet a shadowy vision
sometimes rises before me of a broad paved street, along which I was
running on before our father in joyful haste, that I might be the first
to apprise mother that the meeting was dismissed; but as to whether
the place of assembly we had just left was an upper chamber where a
handful of disciples met together, or a large and fashionable edifice,
memory supplies nothing. A dim dreary scene, too, sometimes passes
before me of some back yard or lane where I was standing with my hand
in my father’s, gazing with childish delight, and, at the same time,
with a feeling of awe and admiration, upon the starry heavens. I know
not what, at that moment, led my eye to the bright scene over head; nor
yet what fixed these two incidents of my childhood so indelibly upon my
memory, for they are associated, in my mind, with nothing particular
of which I ever heard any one speak; but they are almost the only
recollections I have of the short time spent in this place.
I think that before this time I must have been pretty far advanced
in reading, as I have no remembrance of ever learning, or having any
difficulty with common books. Our father, at the time alluded to, was
exerting himself to find a settled situation as a gardener, and, in
the mean time, taking whatever work he could get in the small gardens
in the neighbourhood. He was soon noticed as an active and tasteful
gardener, and received into the employment of a gentleman whose
property lay in that part of Scotland known by the name of Strathmore,
or “the great valley.”
The dwelling we now entered was very pleasantly situated near a river
called the South Esk, which flows through that part of the country.
Between it and the highway was a large field, with a belt of trees
on the side next the house; on the other side lay the garden; while
beneath the garden, stretching to the river, was what we used to call
the haugh, a flat little meadow.
Our dwelling in appearance was not unlike one of those houses which are
tenanted by farmers in the south-east of Scotland. Its dimensions, its
blue slated roof, and its smooth grass plot, encircled with a gravel
walk before the door, bespoke it the abode, if not of affluence, at
least of competence. It had not, when planned, been intended as the
abode of a servant, but as a residence for the proprietor’s mother,
who having been removed by death, we were permitted to occupy it.
Had the reader visited that spot in the spring of the year, when the
young plantations were arrayed in bright green, the music of wild
birds welcoming the morning, while the cowslip, the meadow-crocus,
and the primrose studded the banks, and the butter-ball, the wild
geranium, and numberless flowers besides, were shooting up amid the
tangled maze of yellow whins and broom, wild rose, and scented sweet
brier, which covered that little haugh; or had he sauntered down to
the river, walked along the pebbles on its shore, and seen the little
trout sparkling in the sunbeam as it leaped at the insects that sported
upon the surface of the water, he would have called it a pleasant
dwelling-place. It was indeed a sunny spot, and the gay children who
used to ramble at will amid its beauties, were as happy a little band
as could have been found.
Yet, freely though they wandered among the surrounding pleasure
grounds, they were carefully taught to avoid putting their foot in an
improper place, or setting forth a hand to injure shrub or tree; and
this in itself was calculated to form and strengthen in us a habit of
self-restraint. Even in infancy our parents began our moral training;
a prompt and cheerful submission to parental authority was the first
habit they sought to form; and this once accomplished, the instruction
and training of youth are comparatively easy. As soon as we became
capable of understanding the reasons which influenced them in their
conduct towards us, we were taught that our parents were the guardians
placed over us by our Creator, in his kind care for our welfare, and
that it was his will, that to them we should in all things cheerfully
submit ourselves without hesitation or murmuring.
I have often thought, when I have seen children allowed to demand a
reason for every trifling order, numerous reasons and excuses having to
be discussed, and thus a long altercation entered into between parent
and child, in the shape of reasoning, before a lesson could be attended
to, or the most trivial command obeyed, what an incalculable amount of
evil is done to children by such treatment! Not only is time wasted,
but self-will is fostered, and a habit of tardy performance of duty
induced.
Few parents seem to comprehend how soon even a very young child may be
made to understand such language as this: God, who lives in heaven,
made us all; he gave mother her little son that I might take care of
him, be kind to him, and teach him to be good. He says little children
must obey father and mother, and he would be angry with me and punish
me if I allowed my boy to be naughty and disobedient. Such language
firmly and kindly spoken by a parent, even to a very young child,
and steadily and consistently acted upon, will very soon subdue the
self-will of the most wayward, and thus render future training easy to
both parent and child.
Such was, in principle, the training to which we were subjected in
our early years. Obedience--immediate, cheerful obedience, and the
strictest regard to truth, lay at the foundation of all our other
training. A thousand little follies, mistakes, and even graver faults
might be passed over, but disobedience and falsehood were unpardonable.
Yet there was nothing of sternness or severity in the conduct of our
parents towards us. Perhaps no mother ever lavished more fond caresses
upon her children, or exerted herself more to make their time pass
happily, and no father was ever more anxious to secure the comfort and
happiness of his family.
Pleasantly did the days and hours pass over us, during our residence
in this secluded spot: there was no school within reach, and if there
had, our father’s small income would not have allowed our education to
be paid for, without greatly diminishing the comforts of the family;
therefore, it had to be attended to at home. One by one, we used
to take our place beside our mother, read a short lesson, have the
larger words explained to us, when our mother would take the book and
read it over again slowly and distinctly, that we might the better
understand what we had been reading; and then we were at liberty to
indulge in active and healthful amusement, or we were engaged in some
useful and necessary employment. Four times a day, usually, each of
us had our short lesson; and if it be considered that the whole of
the labour of the house devolved upon our mother, it will be believed
that this could be no light task; nothing, however, was allowed to
interrupt our lessons: and it was no uncommon thing to see her busy
at the washing-tub while we by turns took our place beside her; one
child would be found attending to the baby, another gathering sticks
and keeping the fire alive, a third engaged in reading, and a fourth
bringing water from a pure, soft spring, at some distance from the
house; while our eldest brother assisted father in the garden.
Our morning lesson was usually from the Scriptures, but throughout the
day from other books. Our parents were, themselves, as eager to obtain
knowledge as they were anxious to impart it to us. An hour was allowed
for meals: when our father came to breakfast or dinner, as soon as the
repast was finished, (and a working man in health does not usually
loiter over his meals,) our mother used to read aloud till the hour was
finished, either with the youngest child upon her knee, or, if it was
in the cradle, knitting while she read. She used to say, that it was
disagreeable and improper to be bustling about while father was within;
and when he was gone out, the work must be done up.
At these times, books of every kind that came to hand were read,
unless, indeed, there was in their language or morality something very
bad. Nor were any of us, so far as I recollect, ever restricted in our
reading; books of all kinds, which came within our reach, were free to
us. Some may be disposed to condemn this laxity, as they may consider
it; but with the limited means our parents possessed of purchasing
books, and being far distant from any town or village where they might
have had a choice from a library, it was not strange that all that by
any means came to hand should be eagerly perused: books were not then
so plentiful, nor so various, as at present.
Well do I remember my brother finding a torn leaf of a little
school-book in a bush in the haugh--it had been caught there when the
stream was swollen by heavy rains. What a prize it was! one by one,
we committed it to memory, while stretched upon the daisied sward,
during the sunny hours of a summer Sabbath-day; and I do not believe
that there is one of the young group who then learned the beautiful
hymn that stray leaf contained, who does not retain its simple words
indelibly impressed upon the memory, and feel in a renewed heart the
influences of the blessed truths taught in its lines. It was the hymn
beginning,
“Among the deepest shades of night,
Can there be One who sees my way?”
If our parents’ plan of reading, and allowing us to read, all that
came in the way, had any danger in it, it was in our case counteracted
by the free conversation about what was read, which usually followed,
and by the duty constantly inculcated, and practised by themselves, of
reading and searching the Scriptures as the standard by which every
practice, principle and opinion, in religion or morality, must be
tested. We were taught to view the Bible as the words of an infallible
Teacher, by which the instructions of every other were to be tried,
and only to be received in so far as they were in accordance with this
heaven-descended guide: we were, thus early, led to analyse what we
read, to exercise our understandings upon whatever came in our way, and
to receive nothing as truth, until it had been put to the test of the
Divine word.
Our Sabbaths were our happiest days; we were near no place of public
worship--not so near, at least, as to permit any of the children
often to attend. As soon as we were dressed and had breakfasted,
family prayer was attended to, and then our father would point out
some hymn or passage of Scripture which he wished us to learn, when
we would sally forth, book in hand, in different directions, one to
stretch himself upon the soft grass in the field close by, another
to pace backward and forward on the pleasure walk, or to find a seat
in the bough of an old bushy tree; while another would seek a little
summer-house our father had made of heather, and seated round with
the twisted boughs of the glossy birch, each reading aloud till the
allotted lesson was thoroughly fixed upon our minds. If the day was
wet, or if it was the winter season, we would gather around the table
by the window. During the afternoon, mother would read to us, or all
of us, father and mother included, read by turns; questions were then
asked, and conversation entered into, about what we had been reading.
[Illustration:
See page 40]
It was upon one of these occasions, when some remarks made by one of
my parents in endeavouring to call our attention to the truth that
we must be changed, renewed in the image of God; or, to take up the
simple figurative expression then made use of, that we must have _new
hearts_, else we never could be happy with our Father in heaven, that
an impression was made upon my mind, never to be effaced: from that
hour, through all my follies and all my waywardness, the thought of
that new heart still haunted me, until I indeed found peace with God
through Jesus Christ, and felt the renewing power of the truth of God.
Viewing the practice of allowing children to consider their lessons as
a part of their amusement, as pernicious in its tendency, as calculated
to induce a habit of trifling with serious things, and to form a giddy,
frivolous character, our parents never permitted anything like levity
in attending to our lessons; we never were allowed to consider them
as a recreation, but as serious, though cheerful employment, which
must never be trifled with, but seriously and earnestly engaged in.
A uniform veneration for the word of God was evinced by themselves,
and if we read or repeated any part of it, we were taught to do so
seriously; if a hymn was recited, or any piece in which the name of
our Creator might occur, we were accustomed to do so in a solemn and
attentive manner.
We had been about six years in this place, when my father’s master
died, and his lady kindly recommended him to her brother, who was in
want of a gardener. We now removed to the east of Scotland; and our
dwelling, until the death of the former gardener, who was laid aside
by age, was two rooms, rented for us, in the adjoining village. About
two years after our arrival, his decease allowed us to remove to what
was to us a pleasanter abode, as being a little more secluded, but
otherwise possessing little advantage. There, several of us attended
a female school, supported by the lady, for the instruction of the
children of servants upon the estate.
Our attendance, from various causes, was by no means regular; the
necessity for one of us remaining at home, to assist our mother,
prevented regular attendance, and the change from a dry inland
situation, to a low, damp locality, upon the east coast, so affected
our health, that, for many years, the spring of the year turned our
dwelling almost into an hospital. The loss of time and expense incident
upon sickness, in our circumstances, were keenly felt; however,
experience gradually taught us how to manage sickness without so much
medical attendance as we at first required. My brothers procured
employment in the neighbourhood, and I entered the house of my father’s
master.
I had little relish for the society I was thrown into in this place;
all my habits and pursuits were at entire variance with what my
fellow-servants practised; though the light of the Gospel had not yet
entered my mind--it was only struggling for an entrance.
When I now look back to that period of mental conflict, I am convinced
that my darkness and difficulty arose, not from any mystery thrown
around the beautiful simplicity of the Gospel by my teachers, but that
I entertained a secret unwillingness to yield up my own will, and my
own wishes; my heart was divided--I was striving to serve God and
Mammon; the love of the world, and the things of the world, shut out
the light of the glorious Gospel; and it was not till my heart was
subdued by the love of God, till I became willing to do, or be, or
submit to, anything which God required, that I found peace--then I saw
God as my Father in Jesus, receiving me freely, through him; the burden
of guilt was removed, and I was led in the paths of obedience by love.
I had been a few years in my situation, when my mother’s health being
very much impaired, I felt it my duty to return home. There were
now ten of us, besides our father and mother: my eldest brother was
employed in the garden; my second worked with a tradesman in the
neighbourhood; and two of my sisters were employed in the family I
had left; while five younger brothers and sisters were at school. The
eldest of these was soon after engaged by the village teacher as his
assistant.
When at home, our Sabbaths were spent much in the same manner as
formerly, only we had now the opportunity of attending public worship;
and instead of merely conversing, we had begun to try and commit our
thoughts to writing. Our parents would request us to state our reasons
for certain parts of our belief, or our ideas of the meaning of certain
passages of Scripture; we would also, often exert ourselves to give
expression to our thoughts in a verse or two of poetry. At these
times, several of us would apply our minds to one subject, and it was
interesting to observe the different forms our thoughts would assume.
Our mother’s health was re-established, and our circle of acquaintance
widened, but not much, for few in the same walk in life as ourselves
sympathized with us in our pursuits, and we had as little relish
for theirs: our time fully occupied, we never felt the power of the
temptations to evil to which young persons, in the same circumstances,
are usually exposed: we had been carefully taught in early childhood,
that
“Satan finds some mischief still,
For idle hands to do;”
and idle empty hearts, too, he will fill with sin and folly. I firmly
believe, that the only safety from temptation in this world of sin,
in this state of weakness, is to have our hearts full of the love of
God, our understandings enlightened by the truth of God, and our hands
actively engaged in whatever useful employment the providence of God
places within our reach; never sighing over our limited opportunities
of doing good, never repining that we are not placed in situations, and
endowed with talents to do and suffer great things for the cause of
Christ, or fretting, because our opportunities of improvement are few
and small.
This has been my most besetting sin, and the most powerful temptation
to which I have been exposed; and, so far as it has prevailed, it
has lessened my usefulness, and retarded my improvement. Could
we comprehend how great is the blessedness of being permitted to
be fellow-workers with God, we should not thus trifle with the
opportunities afforded us of doing what we can; but feeling that we are
called to an honour and felicity far above anything we can deserve,
eagerly seize the slightest, if it be but to whisper a word of truth in
the ear of the poorest child, to lure on and assist some ignorant one
to spell out and understand a passage, a phrase, or even a word of the
book of God, or even to minister to the comfort and happiness of those
around us in the things of this life. Thus our Father in heaven stooped
to lavish kindness and care upon man’s mortal frame, to throw the
sweets of summer at his feet, and hang the luxuries of autumn overhead,
to enamel the field, to paint the flower, and carve the leaf; and
shall we disdain to lay hold of every opportunity of ministering in the
slightest degree, or in the humblest way, to the comfort and enjoyment
of those around us? And yet how often are opportunities of doing small
acts of kindness and usefulness let slip, while we are sighing over our
narrow sphere and our limited means of serving God, or benefiting man!
For a considerable time our family circle was unbroken; however, by the
marriage, at different times, of four members of the family, six only
remained around our parents. Sorrow might have had a resting-place in
the bosoms of some of that family circle, but to the eye of lookers-on
they were happy as ever. But change, death, and sorrow were to come.
Our beloved father was suddenly and unexpectedly removed from among us,
and a long course of illness in the family followed on his departure.
Illness prevented for a time our removal from the abode which had so
long sheltered us, and where we had spent so many happy days.
At this time, however, we all recovered; but shortly after our removal
to another residence, five of us were again prostrated by fever, and
our youngest sister--our gentle, quiet, affectionate sister, she who
lived but for the happiness of those around her--was removed.
I am now residing with three sisters and our youngest brother, under
the roof of our widowed mother; other two relatives live with us, and
I am still engaged in my old occupation of managing the house, which I
have never quitted since I returned on account of my mother’s health,
except for about two years, when I was in the service of others.
Many sources of enjoyment and comfort have been removed; but the spring
to which our beloved and revered parents led us in our early years,
that fountain whence issued our sweetest and purest enjoyments, is
still open to us, even the well of living waters which never can be
dried up; and though those loved ones are departed, and we cannot
but feel the loss of their society, we are happy in the hope of soon
meeting them, where there are pleasures for evermore. Religion--the
knowledge of God--has been to us our strength and our happiness, the
source of all we have enjoyed worth calling enjoyment: it has been the
sunshine which, in the hour of prosperity, has made earth fair unto us
as the bowers of Eden; and when the darkness of adversity encompassed
us, it has been the star whose beaming indicated the approach of the
morning’s brightness.
=THE PEARL OF DAYS.=
[Illustration]
Man is not left, even in this state of existence, like the lower
animals, to draw his chief happiness from the indulgence of his
appetites, or to be led by the blind, but unerring impulse of
instinct, to his chief good. He is endowed with reasoning powers
and moral sentiments, which require to be enlightened and exercised,
in order to their proper direction and healthful development. His
happiness is as inseparably connected with the cultivation and exercise
of the faculties of his mind, as it is with the healthful development
and proper exercise of his bodily organs. We meet with abundant proof
of this in the state of savage tribes, who shelter themselves in
clay-built hovels, wrap themselves in the skins of beasts, and obtain
a precarious subsistence from the scanty produce of the uncultivated
ground, or the flesh of wild animals. If we compare their means of
sustaining life, their sources of enjoyment, their religious worship,
their daily habits, and their daily labours, in a word, their whole
state, with the state of a civilized and enlightened community--even
could we bring ourselves to look upon man as merely an intelligent and
improvable animal, formed exclusively for this present life--we are
irresistibly led to the conclusion, that whatever tends to elevate or
refine his nature, to give to his reasoning faculties and his moral
sentiments a controlling power over his appetites and propensities,
is of vast importance to his well-being. It guards him from evils to
which, while his animal nature is left without due restraint from his
higher faculties and sentiments, he is exposed, opens to him sources
of enjoyment, and discovers supplies, of which, while his intellectual
nature is uncultivated, he is incapable of availing himself.
The labour to which, in the present state of society, the majority
of the working population of our country is subjected, in order
to obtain their subsistence, is of that incessant and tasking
nature, which, when the daily hours of toil are closed, leaves the
system too much exhausted for mental application or intellectual
enjoyment. Hence, among those of the labouring classes who are not
led by religious principle to avail themselves of the opportunities
for self-improvement which the weekly rest affords, we find, with
comparatively few exceptions, low and degrading pursuits the principal
sources of their amusement; while their highest enjoyments are derived
from the gratification of their appetites and propensities. Nor is
this strange; no one who has for any considerable length of time been
subjected to severe and unremitting toil, whose employment called for
the exertion of his muscular power till real fatigue ensued, will deny,
that, while in such a state, man is equally incapable of availing
himself of the more refined pleasure of social intercourse, or of the
improvement to be derived from mental application; that the craving is
for animal gratification, or nervous excitement; and that a continued
routine of such labour, without the seventh-day rest, would soon sink
the labouring population into a condition worse than that of absolute
barbarism. This is no merely speculative theory; we have only to enter
into social intercourse with those around us, to meet with more than
abundant proofs of its reality.
Were it possible, then, to view man as only formed for this world--as
a mere link in the chain of causation--doing his little part, enjoying
his brief existence, and then reduced again to his original elements,
passing away alike forgetting and forgotten; and were we to regard
the Sabbath as merely a civil institution, the appointment of human
government; even thus separated from all its religious relations, it
would, were it possible for man destitute of the knowledge of God, to
improve the opportunities afforded by it, confer benefits upon working
men which they could not otherwise obtain. The Sabbath limits, to some
extent, the power of employers, whom selfishness and avarice, in not a
few instances, have rendered alike regardless of the comfort and the
health of their servants; and secures to those whose daily avocations
require their absence from the family circle, the pleasures and the
comforts of home; the softening and refining influence of family
relations and domestic intercourse. Its rest refreshes and invigorates
the physical constitution, and affords time to apply the mind to the
attainment of useful knowledge: it ought therefore to command the
respect of all who are sincerely desirous of promoting the improvement
of the working population.
But it is impossible thus to regard man. Man has a spiritual,
never-dying, as surely as he has an animal and mortal nature, which
act and re-act upon each other, so that the well-being of the one is
essential to the well-being of the other. He, therefore, who would
confine man’s views to this world, and limit his endeavours after
happiness to the present life, snatches from him, along with the hopes
of the future, the riches of the present. Debarred from his Father’s
house and his Father’s table, he will soon be wallowing in the mire of
ignorance and vice, and feeding on the husks of sensual indulgence. He
who chains man to continuous and unremitting exertion of his physical
system, unfits his mind for activity, and degrades him to a condition
little above that of a beast of burden. The Sabbath, then, must be
viewed in its relation to every part of man’s nature, in its influence
upon him as a whole, before we can fully appreciate even the merely
temporal benefits it is calculated to confer upon the human family.
Some have said, that another arrangement would be more
beneficial,--that, were more time for repose allotted to each day
without a Sabbath, the purposes of Sabbath rest would be more fully
attained. Were the Sabbath a human institution, appointed by earthly
legislators, for purposes relating to this life, this point might be
open to discussion. As it is not the institution of man, however, but
that of our all-wise Creator, I shall merely ask those who advocate
such a change, how they propose to bring it about? and how preserve
it, when once obtained? Is it not that the Sabbath claims to be an
institution of Heaven, and thus laying hold of man’s conscience,
ensures attention to its demands from all who fear God and tremble at
his word--is it not its appearing in this character which secures to it
any degree of attention and respect from society? It is the influences
of the Sabbath which will yet introduce a better regulated system of
labour during the week; and he who would abolish it as a step towards
such an improvement, flings away the most safe and certain means of
accomplishing his object.
It is only by the advancement of the labouring classes themselves in
intelligence and civilization, that any really important or beneficial
change can ever take place in the regulation of labour; but even were
such a change effected, were the hours of daily toil considerably
shortened, would there not still be abundant room for a Sabbath?
How are the moral and intellectual character, the tastes and habits
of working men to be elevated, without the opportunities and the
influences of this institution?
He who would abolish the Sabbath, and distribute its hours among the
days of the week, that he might increase the comfort, and improve the
character and the condition of working men, would act as a builder
would do, who should dig up the foundations of a house, that he might
obtain materials wherewith to finish its upper story. Religion,
like the Father of lights, from whom it emanates, bestows abundance
of blessings upon many who know not the bounteous Hand from whence
they come; and the Sabbath, one of its most glorious and beneficent
institutions, confers numerous benefits even upon that portion of
society who, trifling with its sacred obligations, and spurning its
salutary restraints, fail to reap from it that amount of good which it
is so well calculated to afford them.