Mother's portrait being a memorial of filial affection: With sketches of Wesleyan life and of religious services in letters to a younger sister especially intended for the youth of Methodism

              RALPH BROWN DRAUGHON
LIBRARY
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HER CHILDREN ARISE UP, AND CALL HER BLESSED; HER HUS-BAND
ALSO, AND HE PRAISETH HER.
FAVOR IS DECEITFUL, AND BEAUTY IS VAIN ; BUT A WOMAN
THAT FEARETH THE LORD, SHE SHALL BE PRAISED.
GIVE HER OF THE FRUIT OF HER HANDS ; AND LET HER OWN
WORKS PRAISE HER IN THE GATES.
SOLOMON.
MOTHER'S PORTRAIT:
BEING
31 Uenmrial at |ilial ^Mm;
WITH
SKETCHES OF WESLEYAN LIFE AND OF RELIGIOUS SERVICES:
IN LETTERS TO A YOUNGER SISTER.
ESPECIALLY INTENDED FOK
THE YOUTH OF METHODISM.
BY THE
REV. FREDERICK J. JOBSON.
ILLUSTRATED BY TWENTY ENGRAVINGS, FROM ORIGINAL PICTURES
BY J. SMETHAM AND F. J. JOBSON.
REVISED BY THOMAS 0. SUMMERS, D.D.
KagptUe, Ccnn. :
PUBLISHED BY E. STEVENSON & F. A. OWEN, AGENTS,
FOR THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHUKCH, SOUTH.
1858.
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY A. A. STITT,
SOUTHERN METHODIST PUBLISHING HOUSE, NASHVILLE, TENN.
^ ^0 '69 DKM
Couhitts,
PAGE
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR xi
TO THE GENERAL READER xiii
LETTER I.
_ DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAIT 19
LETTER II.
BIRTHPLACE ELEMENTS OF CHARACTER 31
LETTER III.
MARRIAGE ^WANDERINGS SETTLEMENT 42
LETTER IV.
AN AGED FATHER CONVERSION ENTRANCE INTO METHODISM A
PRIMITIVE CLASS-MEETING 52
LETTER V.
METHODISM IN THE CITY AND COUNTY OF LINCOLN—EARLY PER-SECUTION
72
LETTER VI.
VISITS TO THE POOR AND THE SICK—INSTANCES OF USEFULNESS. 96
LETTER VII.
FAMILY RELIGION SABBATH-DAY SCENES 105
LETTER VIII.
BEREAVEMENTS—THE SPIRITUAL WORLD 121
vm CONTENTS.
LETTER IX.
USEFULXESS TO KINDRED AND TO STRANGERS ffATCII-NltiHT AND
COVENANT SERVICES 131
LETTER X.
PUBLIC WORSHIP VISITS OF MINISTERS CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP. 144
LETTER XI.
DEVOTIONAL READING SPIRITUAL SONGS FULL SALVATION 157
LETTER XII.
CLASS-LEADING FEMALE AGENCY MISSIONARY ANNIVERSARY
MR. WILLIAM DAWSON, DR. NEWTON CATHOLICITY 174
LETTER XIII.
ADVANTAGES OF METHODISM, IN ITS SOCIAL MEANS 195
LETTER XIV.
TIMES OF REFRESHING DAY'S OF REV. JOHN SMITH JOHN HUNT
CHAPEL OPENED BY REV. DK. BUNTING 208
LETTER XV.
CHARACTER REVIEWED ADDITIONAL INSTANCES OF USEFULNESS.. 229
LETTER XVI.
MATURED FRUITS OF THE SPIRIT 242
LETTER XVII.
SUPPORT IN SICKNESS 255
LETTER XVIII.
JOYFUL DEATH BURIAL-PLACE FUNERAL SERMON CONCLUSION.. 266
|IUtstrati0ns.
DESIGNED BY PAGE
FRONTISPIECE .J. SMETHAM 4
BEVERLEY F. J. JOBSOX 31
SPURN POINT F. J. JOBSON 42
LINCOLN F. J. JOBSON 52
R.\RLY PERSECUTION J. SMETHAM 72
RELIEVING THE POOR J. SMETHAM 9G.
SABBATH-DAY SCENE J. SMETHAM 105
FATHER AND CHILDREN J. SMETHAM 121
NEWPORT GATE, LINCOLN F. J. JOBSON 131
PUBLIC WORSHIP J. SMETHAM 144
MEDITATIVE SERENITY (lAKE OF LUCERNe) F. J. JOBSON 157
HIGH BRIDGE, LINCOLN F. J. JOBSON 174
METHODIST CLASS-MEETING J. SMETHAM 195
THE EARNEST PREACHER J. SMETHAM 208
PENITENTS J. SMETHAM 229
CHRISTIAN STEADFASTNESS (MONT BLANC) F. J. JOBSON 242
SICKNESS J. SMETHAM 255
ENTRANCE INTO THE RIVER J. SMETHAM 265
FLIGHT TO HEAA'EN J. SMETHAM 2G6
THE END J. SMETHAM 279
1*
Introbuc&it bg tlje 0ihL
The author of this beautiful biography is favorably known
in the United States as a minister of the British Wesleyan
Conference, having visited this country as a representative of
that body, with Dr. Hannah, in the General Conference of
the Methodist Episcopal Church, held at Indianapolis, during
the present year. Mr. Jobson is a man of generous, benevo-lent,
and catholic spirit—of artistic tastes and capacities, as
well as scholarly acquirements and habits—a most excellent,
devoted, and successful minister of the Lord Jesus—just
what one might expect him to be, knoioing Jiis parentage.
The Son has drawn the Portrait of the Mother in a mas-terly
manner; and w^ell did she deserve this memento of filial
affection. Mrs. Jobson was a fine specimen of the women of
Wesleyan Methodism. Her character cannot be surveyed
without admiration—we would hopefully think, not without
imitation too.
By an ingenious method, without diverting attention from
his IMother's Portrait, the author has given us a truthful and
attractive picture of Methodism, with descriptions of persons
and places connected with its history. Some of the engrav-
Xll INTEODUCTION BY THE EDITOR.
ings—all of wliicli are faithfully reproduced by our artist
—
are from designs by Mr. Jobson, who has several times visited
the continent of Europe, particularly Switzerland, for the
purpose of sketching its peerless lake and mountain scenery.
This edition is an exact reprint of a copy of the original
work, bearing the autograph of Mr. Jobson, by whom it was
presented to our excellent friend, the Rev. Dr. Sargent, of
Baltimore, whose courtesy in favoring us with the volume,
and with interesting particulars concerning its author, is duly
appreciated by
QL[]C QEbitor.
Nashville, Tesn., August, 1856.
C0 tge Central |leahr.
The Author respectfully claims attention for
one thought before the following Letters are pe-rused.
They do not portray the striking events
of enterprise in the life of an adventurous mis-sionary
to the heathen ; or the important changes
and deep trials which often characterize the work
of a Christian minister in his own country. Nor
do they record the workings of a religious mind
which has had all the advantages of high cultivation
and refined leisure. But they contain, although
XIV TO THE GENERAL READER.
the sketch is imperfect, the portraiture of a plain,
practical Christian,—of one who was surrounded
wdth the cares of family and business,—of one
who was every day in the world, and yet lived
as not of it,—of one who turned her very neces-sity
to be busy therein into an opportunity for
snatching trophies out of it for her Redeemer.
It is hoped that the homehness of the Portrait
may render it the more readily imitable; and,
therefore, the more extensively serviceable to the
hearts and minds of those who may contemplate
it. Every one cannot be a missionary, like
Brainerd, or Eliot, or Martyn, or Coke : all can-not
become preachers of Christ's gospel to thou-sands,
like Wesley, or Whitefield, or Benson, or
Robert Newton : few can attain the intellectual
refinement joined with high spirituality which
characterized Hannah More and Lady Maxwell
;
but it is the privilege of all, however encircled
TO THE' GENERAL READER. XV
with family cares, or involved in temporal busi-ness,
to be useful members of the Church of
God.
Perhaps the rehgious world had never greater
need than now to be reminded that it is personal
usefulness which should be cultivated and prac-ticed.
The many noble institutions and asso-ciations
for spiritual and charitable objects which
distinguish our times, deserve aU the support
which they receive ; but there is danger that
the majority of professing Christians should rest
in mere subsidiary usefulness. It should be
remembered that individual exertion is necessary
in the cause of Christ ; and that it was never
intended that any of His followers should serve
only by proxy. It will be seen that the subject
of this Memoir, while ever ready to support
evangelical and benevolent institutions to the
extent of her ability, was herself a persevering
XVI TO THE GENEEAL EEADER.
and successful laborer in the vineyard of her
Lord. And to those who desire to have before
them, every day and under all the varied circum-stances
of life, a practical and active example
of the power and excellence of religion, this
imperfect sketch is humbly but earnestly recom-mended.
The reader will discern that these Letters
ha,ve been written with a free pen ; and that
with a Mother's Portrait, Methodist scenes and
services have been outlined. This, to some
extent, was natural and unavoidable. But it
will be seen that these outlines are sometimes
extended beyond the simple necessities of the
biography. The writer's reasons for such en-largements
are twofold, and may be soon stated.
Though Wesleyan Methodism has been in
existence for more than a century, it is evidently
TO THE GENERAL EEADER. XVll
still much misunderstood ; for even good men,
who write and speak of it, strangely misrejDresent
it; more especially when they make reference
to its peculiar and social means of grace. An
endeavor is made in the following pages to
exhibit its true features. This is done in a
somewhat desultory and unconnected manner
;
yet so, it is believed, that the truth will be
satisfactorily gleaned by the reader who is not a
Methodist ; while to Wesleyans themselves these
few pen-and-ink sketches of what they are fami-liar
with may not be wholly unacceptable.
But more especially is this volume intended for
the YOUTH of Methodist parentage and descent.
And it is humbly hoped, that imperfect as are
the references made in it to early religious asso-ciations,
yet they will be the means of reviving
and strengthening within youthful readers rever-ential
regard for the Church of their fathers.
b2
XViii TO THE GENERAL EEADER. .
For should the perusal of what is herein written
raise up but one thought of a rehgious home, that
thought may have linked to it a chain of sleeping
recollections, which, when revived, shall be found
to be most salutary in their influence.
F. J. J.
Lambeth, July, 1855
A MOTHER'S POIITE.AIT.
f Httr u
" Some we love well : the early presences
That were first round us, and the silvery tones
Of those most far away, and dreamy voices
That sounded all about us at the dawn
Of our young life,—these, as the world of things
Sets in upon our being like a tide.
Keep with us, and are ever uppermost.
And some there are, tall, beautiful, and wise,
Whose step is heavenward, and whose souls have passed
Out from the nether darkness, and been borne
Into a new and glorious universe,
Who speak of things to come : but there is that
In thy soft eye and long-accustomed voice,
Would win me fi-om them all."
HENRY ALFORD.
I PURPOSE, my dear Sister, to describe, in a
series of letters addressed to yourself, the life
and example of our dear departed Mother.
20 A mother's POETEAIT.
You have heard more than you saw of her
;
for she died when you were very young. Of
her earnest and affectionate character you can-not
fail to have some personal remembrances.
But these are, of necessity, imperfect. You
ought to know more from others ; and especi-ally
from a brother who had the greater advan-tage
of growing up to manhood under her
maternal care. My own love and gratitude
for her memory are summed up in Gray's
significant saying : "A man can have but one
Mother." And though you lost her early, you
feel that there is something inexpressibly dear
and tender in a Mother's name. I wish to
deepen this sentiment within you, knowing by
experience that it is truly salutary to cherish it.
But while addressing this record to you in
the fugitive form of letters, I humbly aim to
erect a public and more permanent memorial
of departed excellence. Our dear Mother's
character and conduct impressed themselves
beneficially on many while she lived; and I
judge that a memoir of her will be lastingly
useful now she is dead. I have long felt that
DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAIT. 21
the writing of it was a filial duty I owed to
her memory, and a public duty I owed to the
Church of Christ. She was a liidng example
of practical Christianity; and, with all the
books of religious biography that have been
published, there are not too many records of
such examples in the world.
It may be asked why I have chosen to fulfil
my task in the epistolary form. I answer, Be-cause
it is more easy, and less stately and
pretending than the set style of modern bio-graphy,
which, by its measured formality, re-strains
the writer from giving free expression
to his thoughts and recollections. It also
admits of the introduction of more familiar
incidents; and one fireside incident related
with simplicity, not unfrequently affords more
real insight into character than a large volume
of mere general descriptions. And while this
easier form will allow me to use with freedom
the language of affection and gratitude,—which,
as a son, I must employ, if I write at all,—it
will enable me to point out, without the stiff-ness
which often deters rather than invites a
22 A mother's PORTEAIT.
reader, the lessons to be learned from a Chris-tian
example.
These letters are accompanied with engraved
illustrations, for the purpose, not only of pro-ducing
on your mind more distinct and pleas-ing
impressions of what you read; but also of
stimulating you, and all who may peruse them,
to cultivate any taste which the Almighty
Creator may have implanted within you for
the beautiful. It is a gracious design of God
that we should be educated and refined by
such means, as well as by the purifying les-sons
of his holy word. What beauty has he*
not profusely scattered around us, in the forms
of the universe, his great handywork ! Can
we suppose that we are thus encircled with
beauty, and grace, and grandeur, without a
beneficent purpose ? Let me earnestly advise
you, especially while your younger faculties
are awake with wonder, to store the mind
with images of all that is most lovely in form
and color, and most marvellous in design.
You will reap the benefit afterwards, and to
the end of life.
DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAIT. 23
It is not only of such materials that the
mind compiles its most pleasurable stores; but
they are most soothing and refreshing amidst
the corroding and anxious cares of our earthly
existence. The remembrance of these is always
fresh and green, however sterile and desolate
present and actual circumstances may become.
It is related of Alexander the Great, that in
all his wars he carried with him a copy of
the Iliad, on which, as his richest treasure,
he laid his active brain to rest at night; and
it is said that our own great statesman, Wil-liam
Pitt, would retire from the stormiest de-bate
on war in the House of Commons, and
read in the stately and transcendent pages of
"Paradise Lost" until morning dawned. It
is thus that the busiest and most sagacious
minds devised a w^ay to restore the health
and purity of the intellect, after it had been
dulled and worn with the grosser combat of
the common affairs of life.
I shall commence my task with endeavoring
to set before you in writing our dear Mother's
Portrait. I am prompted to do this by the
24 amother'sportrait.
remembrance of having often experienced a
sense of want on reading biographies which
have contained no description of the person
whose hfe was related. In such works a feel-ing
of vagueness accompanies one all the way
through. For want of a substantial form which
the mind can keep before itself, the words
spoken and the acts performed by the person
whose life we are reading, make an unsatisfac-tory
impression. How different from the real-ity
which is embodied in Boswell's " Life of
Johnson/' where we seem to live with the
grand mental laborer, to see how he looked,
and to hear the sonorous tones in which he
uttered his weighty sayings ! How different
from the lifelike picture, almost unconsciously
drawn of himself by Wesley in his " Journals,"
which, after all that others have done so well,
are his best biography
!
I shall endeavor, then, to place before you a
Mother's Portrait ; but shall not attempt high-coloring
and finish. You may term it rather
a crayon sketch with a free pencil ; but it shall
be, as far as I can render it so, true to the hfe.
DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAIT. 25
Our beloved Mother was of middle stature, of
good proportionate form, and, in the latter part
of her life, somewhat broad and full in person;
yet she was remarkably quick and lively in her
step, and uniformly active in her movements.
Her countenance was fresh, healthy, and open.
It was delicately fair in complexion, and slightly
tinged on the cheeks with color that deepened
with the increasing strength of inward emotion.
There was a peach-like bloom of health and peace
almost constantly upon it. The face was more
round than oval, in its general outline ; somewhat
high at the cheek-bones ; and, as Avith all good
faces, the features were well-defined and harmoni-ous.
Her eyes were gray, and, as if specially
designed for extended observation, they were
widely set in their distance from each other, and
full towards the outer corners. The nose was
significant of decision and strength, and projected
in full proportion from the face. Her lips were
thin, but the mouth was very expressive of
natural cheerfulness. The chin was a httle
pointed, and inchned to the double form when
it rested against the neck. Her hair was dark
26 A mother's portrait.
browii; which she wore plamly parted from the
middle of the forehead, and hanging low and
plentifully down at the sides of the face. The
countenance throughout was tenderly expressive
both of thought and feeling. At seasons of de-liberation
it was seriously placid and calm; but
immediately on entering into conversation with
her friends, it kindled up into cheerfulness, and
not unfrequently appeared radiant with joy.
Religious reverence was its great characteristic
;
and on the whole, I should say that a face more
sweet, more spiritual, more withdrawn at times
from earthly objects, and more fully bathed in
genuine devotion, I do not remember to have
seen.
Fihal attachment may influence my judgment
;
but to me, hers was a countenance not surpassed
for womanly purity either by picture or reality.
There were seasons of motherly association with
her family, when her entire nature seemed to be
suffused with holy feeling, and to tremble in a
delirium of love. How sweetly serene and rapt
with devotion was that countenance when lifted
up to heaven as she knelt in prayer with her
DESCEIPTIVE PORTRAIT. 27
children! And how much of celestial radiance
seemed to linger upon it after she left her closet,
where, under the bright cloud that had over-shadowed
her, she had knelt and held communion
with God ! Rehgion literally made her face to
shine. All its lines, by the influence of her fre-quent
and prolonged visits to the secret place of
the Divine pavihon, seemed touched into child-like
simplicity and purity ; and her whole charac-ter
was redolent of the richly-perfumed incense
of spiritual devotion. How that image of piety
and worship abides with me through succeeding
years ! Her miniature portrait, painted some
years ago, now lies open in its locket before me ;
and at my father's hangs against the wall an
excellent three-quarters portrait of her by my
friend, Mr. Green, and for which she sat to him
in London a short time before she died. But her
true and full image is in my heart. There it has
been set and worn from early childhood ; nor will
all the passing joys and sorrows of human life
chase away its deep and indelible impression
there.
Her dress was neat ; but it was as far removed
28 A mother's PORTRAIT.
from uniform plaimiess and preciseness on the one
hand, as it was from worldly fashion and adorn-ment
on the other. Indeed, with her, as with
most persons, the outward dress was character-istic
of the mind within. Her avowed principle
was to wear good clothing ; believing, as she said,
that it was most economical by its durability
;
but she was careful to obey the apostolic injunc-tion,
and to " adorn herself in modest apparel," as
" becometh a woman professing godliness."
Her voice and manners were gentle, but de-cided.
There was nothing of hurry in her words
and actions : nothing of outward bustle and ex-citement,
such as you often find in persons who
profess to have numerous engagements, and much
to do, but who in reality accomplish very little.
A serene atmosphere seemed ever to be around
her ; but with this there was a powerful and
impressive influence attending all she said and
did. Mother was, in the true sense of the word,
a gentle-^NomdiVL ; but calm energy was her great
characteristic,—so much so, that introduce her
where you would, and associate her as you
pleased, she would soon make herself felt as a
DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAIT. 29
woman of influence and force of character. Her
family and friends instinctively looked up to her
for direction and counsel. Strangers soon felt
themselves under the spell of her character ; and
seat her where you might, she speedily made that
the chief seat in the room, or the head place at
the table. Sound common sense—that every-day
quality for life, and which, where not possessed,
is not to be obtained by any effort, or at any
price—she had in an eminent degree ; and this,
combined with unaffected generosity and affability,
rendered her the chosen friend and counsellor of
many. With such a combination of qualities, you
will be prepared to understand, my dear Sister,
how it was that your Mother has obtained so
lasting a reputation in the city of her residence
;
and that, though several years have passed away
since her sun sank below the horizon of mortal
sight, yet the reflected light of her character still
lingers and shines among so many. Of her it
may be truly said, " The memory of the just is
blessed ;
" and how such a character was formed :
what were the circumstances surrounding- and
attending it from early hfe ; and what were the
c2
30 A mother's portrait.
means by which it was matured in its excellence
—
it will be both interesting and profitable for you
to know. These I shall endeavor to describe in
successive letters ; and as you will now have
before you, from the hand of filial affection, the
outline figure and countenance of a Mother whom
you but dimly remember, I shall proceed to
detail to you the particulars of her life and eon-duct.
Some of these may be deemed trivial by
others, but they will not be uninteresting to you.
"gtiitx iu
" Forgive the strain,
Enamoured ; for to man in every clime,
Tlie sweetest, dearest, noblest spot below.
Is that which gives him birth ; and long it wears
A charm unbroken, and its honored name.
Hallowed by memory, is fondly breathed
With his last lingering sigh."
CARRINGTON.
Your Mother was born at Beverley, in York-shii^
e, November the 20th, 1786. This place of
her bu"th is one of the most pleasing towns in the
kingdom. It is impossible to pass through its
32 A mothee's portrait.
clean streets, to see its quiet mansions and gar-dens,
open spaces and market-place, without dis-cerning
the sources of the health and prosperity
of its inhabitants. It is a town of true English
comfort ; and the rich and well-cultivated land
around it, with the salubrious air, renders it pro-motive
of longevity. To see Beverley in full
advantage, however, it should be viewed from the
elevated ground on the west, at some half-mile
distant; whence its long line of buildings, with
the minster towers and parish church, embosomed
in rich sylvan scenery, cannot fail to produce in
the mind high gratification and delight. It might
be added, that Beverley is not only pleasant and
picturesque in situation, but interesting on account
of its great antiquity. It is one of those towns
which originated with the ancient Britons, by
whom it was named Beaverlac, from a lake on its
western side where the beaver was hunted ; and
still bears in its records and relics proofs of
having passed through all the changes of Roman,
Saxon, Danish, and Norman possession and exist-ence.
Above all, its minster, so beautifully
chaste and feminine in its proportions and orna-
BIRTHPLACE. 33
ments, its broad massive parish cliurclij and its
numerous remains of monasteries and religious
houses, attest tliat it has been a town of ecclesi-astical
distmction.
The street of this pleasant and venerable town
in which your Mother was born is called Lairgate.
It is the most w^esterly of all the streets, and
extends from Keldgate, on the south, to North-bar
street—from which the accompanying view of
Beverley is taken. The house stood on the left-hand
side.
The name of our dear Mother's father was
Caborn, from, as it would seem, the village of
that name near to Caistor, in Lincolnshire, the
original place of his ancestors. Her mother's
name was Harrison, and she came from Louth, in
the same county ; as may be seen from a tablet,
erected to the memory of her brother, in the south
transept of Beverley minster. As soon after her
birth as convenient, your Mother was baptized,
out of the old octagonal and curiously carved
font, now standing at the west end of the parish
church of St. Mary's, and w\as there named
Elizabeth.
34 A mother's portrait.
If I did not remember that I am not writing
for you only, my dear Sister, I should linger over
old Beverley. For of how great importance to
human character is the place of birth and of early
associations—the place in which the mind first
collects its materials for thought and reflection
!
These give form and coloring to scenes framed b}^
the imagination, and therefore afiect us throughout
life ; nay, may, for aught we know, extend their
influence into eternity. The place of childhood
is never forgotten, remove where we will or be
situated as we may. A cheerful sunhght rests
upon it, and renders it radiant in the remembrance.
It is the pivot centre of the mind, the warm and
unforgotten nest of the heart; yea, the very
Eden of our life, where, before we were driven
forth into the world, we plucked without restraint
the flowers and fruits of innocence and joy.
Even the emigrant, who adopts another country
as his home, never forgets the place of his birth.
He may be surrounded by more classic forms and
finer scenery ; more cloudless skies may bend
over him ; but to him childhood's home surpasses
all he elsewhere beholds, as he shows by speaking
ELEMENTS OF CHAEACTEE. 35
of it so frequently to liis friends or his family,
and by relating events and incidents of his early
days again and again. And as " the captive hast-eneth
to be loosened," so he seeks to return to
his native place. It was evident that our dear
Mother felt all this. She was fondly attached to
Beverley, often spoke of it to her children, and
related to them what she saw and heard there
when a child, until we all felt that town to be the
place of a second home.
Our Mother's childhood was spent in Beverley,
and was especially marked by what is usually
described in children as " innocent simplicity."
But even in her earliest years there were indica-tions
of the intelligence, guilelessness, and strong
affection, which were so distinguishable in her
character in after-life. Indeed, the characteristics
of our first dispositions and feelings usually remain
with us through life, as well as our resemblances
in feature and countenance. We have no essential
changes, naturally. Those we knew when chil-dren
are, for the most part, only more fully
developed, not altered in their personal character
and temperament. The dispositions of childhood
36 A mother's poe trait.
may not unfrequently be traced even after con-version.
Early indications of goodness are often found
in those whom God condescends to employ honor-ably
in his Church, as we may learn from the
records of Holy Scripture, as well as from general
observation. So it was with our Mother. She
was a child of more than ordinary promise ; and
her sweetness of disposition made her a favorite
in the family and neighborhood. But more espe-cially
was she a favorite with her father ; for, in
addition to her winning quahties, she most resem-bled
him in disposition.
Soon after she could run, she learned the letters
of the alphabet, and began to learn to read. Her
young mind was quick and eager ; and she would
climb the knees of her father and others almost
as soon as she could speak, and entreat them to
teach her to read. And often have I heard her
relate to her own young family the struggle she
had, when a child, in her "pursuit of knowledge
under difficulties ;" and instance, in her own
cheerful manner, the humorous misdirection given
to her on one occasion by her father, who was
ELEMENTS OF CHARACTER. 37
wearied b}^ lier frequent questions concerning the
true pronunciation of words. She had chmbed
his knee after dinner, and was trying to spell out
the words on a newspaper-sheet, many of which
were too difficult for her. She spelt out one, and
another, and another, by the help of her father,
who was engaged in some other reading, when at
length she came to the word vouch, and having
spelt it, she interrupted him by asking for the
sound of the word. He told her; and directed
her in all her future difficulties with words to
read vouch in each case : a direction not the most
judicious to give an artless child, but pardonable
under the circumstances. Her vouches, however,
in newspaper reading became too numerous, and
extorted too many smiles, to be continued long;
and discovering the fraud, she refused to proceed
farther in that manner, requiring henceforth a
separate pronunciation for each new and difficult
word.
By perseverance these and other difficulties
were overcome ; and she imbibed betimes that
love and habit of reading, as well as of acquiring
information, which remained with her through
38 A mother's portrait.
life. From tlie apparently trivial incident just
related, I may also remark, that she learned a
lesson for life—not to read either books or human
character and experience without endeavoring to
understand what was read. And thus it is that
from what appear to be at the time unimportant
circumstances in human life, a future settled
course is pursued : like many of England's well-trodden
roadsj first formed by the wandering of
cattle ; or Hke many of her streams, turned in their
first course by, perhaps, the root of an oak, or the
small fragment of a rock.
Even at this early period the Holy Spirit gra-ciously
shed an enlightening and subduing influ-ence
upon her mind, so that she was led by a
power which she understood not, and when but
five or six years old, to go into secret and pray
that God would make her good and happy. It
was no small mercy to be thus soon the subject
of Divine guidance and blessing. This mercy, it
is to be feared, is not sufficiently estimated and
sought for " little children," though our Lord has
expressly declared that they are to come unto
him. There is restraining and preventing grace
ELEMENTS OF CHARACTER. 39
for them before conversion ; for if there be any
rehgious difference in the young, it is surely to be
attributed to God. Our Mother was not destitute
of moral and religious teaching by her friends ;
butj in addition to these, she was favored by the
drawings of the good Spirit.
When her childhood was passed, she became
exposed to great danger by being thrown into
scenes of gayety and dissipation in high and
fashionable life. The lady of a nobleman who
was colonel of the county militia, having observed
her engaging manners, would frequently invite
her to their house while they were in Beverley.
When the regiment removed from the town, the
lady begged that Bessy—our Mother, then a very
young girl—might accompany her in her travels
through the kingdom during the continuance of
the war, promising to treat her youthful charge
always as a friend, and to studiously promote her
comfort and advancement in life. With trembling
anxiety on the part of her parents, the daughter
was surrendered to the lady, and remained under
this new care for several years.
In this novel situation our Mother saw much
40 amother'sporteait.
of LIFE, as the varieties of human manners and
character are termed. She travelled over most
parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland, in the
most stirring times ; and being an attentive ob-server,
had in her mind the remembrance of many
impressive and amusing facts and incidents, which
she used to relate in after-hfe to her family and
friends. Among these were tales of the war-time,
including sudden, unexpected, and immediate calls
upon the regiment to march to new stations
:
strange, eccentric characters among the soldiers
odd adventures on the road : seizures of baggage-wagons
from enraged farmers : overthrow of car-riages
: a stormy crossing of the Irish Channel,
when the passengers were fastened down under
the hatchway, while the ship plunged and creaked,
and they expected every moment to be drowned :
traits of Irish and Scotch character,—of Paddy's
brogue and wit, poverty and blunders, and of
Sawney's cool, self-protective words and conduct
:
scenes of mountain and valley, of river, lake, and
cataract ; and reminiscences of gayety, disappoint-ment,
and chagrin, in the whirling circles of high
life. These stories, related with zest, beguiled
ELEMENTS OF CHARACTEE. 41
many a long winter's evening in her family ; and
wrung from her own cheerful heart, as well as
from her listening children, unrestrained laughter,
as healthful as it was joyous. But in all these
recitals she was careful to set forth the moral
lesson to be learned : to condemn the evil and to
praise the good.
I may sum up the brief sketch of this period
of her life, by recording her own grateful testi-mony,
that amidst these changeful experiences
she was mercifully preserved. She never loved
the world, in the sense of that word as applied to
human attachment. She saw earl}^ through the
world's false appearances ; and desired not its
pleasures, honors, or wealth. Admitted by her
patroness to an intimacy that was highly flattering,
she might have been caught by worldly fascina-tion.
But she was enabled to employ reflection
as she looked behind the scenes of the glittering
drama. She discerned how restless, how wearied
and discontented, were even the higher perform-ers
: she conceived a strons: and abidino- distaste
for it ; and so turned from it to seek satisfaction
for her yearning heart in affection for her father.
42 A mother's PORTRAIT.
and in friendship with a few select young persons
more suited to Iier than the high-born of her sex.
At the age of twenty, or nearly, she returned to
her father's home.
W^ittx Hi,
' HAPPY they ! the happiest of their kiuci
!
AVhom gentler stars unite, and in one fate
Their hearts, their fortunes, and their beings blend.
'T is not the coarser tie of human laws,
Unnatural oft, and foreign to the mind.
That binds their peace, but harmony itself,
Attuning all their passions into love
:
Where Friendship full exerts her softest power,
Perfect esteem, enlivened by desire
Ineifable, and sympathy of soul
:
Thought meeting thought, and will preventing will,
With boundless confidence ; for naught but love
Can answer love, and render bliss secure."
THOMSON.
44 A mother's PORTE A IT.
Though now with her own family and friends,
our Mother was not free from danger ; for she
was at that critical period of life when prudence
is perhaps most needed, though often least exer-cised.
The painful and abiding consequences of a
false step when the girl is entering into womanhood,
thousands can testify by sorrowful experience.
Our dear Mother had several professed admirers
and suitors. Father, who was then a young man
of nearly the same age as herself, was among
them. He was descended on the paternal side
from the Jobsons, who were cattle-graziers near
Horncastle, in Lincolnshire ; and, on the maternal,
from a ship-owner named Foster, formerly of
Hull, and afterwards of Barrow, on the south side
of the Humber. This last-named ancestor of ours
was drowned at " Spurn Point," while there for
some business concerning a home-bound vessel,
and while seeking to save the crew of another
owner's ship, which in a storm had been driven
upon that rocky and dangerous angle of the south-east
coast of Holderness, in the East Riding of
Yorkshire : a vignette of which is given at the
head of this letter.
M A E R I A G E . 45
It does not appear that either our grandfather
or grandmother Jobson was decidedly pious. Yet
they must have had some convictions in favor of
religion ; for I have heard my fether say, that one
of the first incidents of his own hfe which he
could remember, was associated with a scene of
persecution against the Methodists assembled for
worship in his father's kitchen, near the market-place
at Horncastle. Grandfather Jobson united
himself for the war time to the North Lincoln
militia : lost his wife : married again ; and died at
Preston, in Lancashire, leaving some descendants
through a son William, since deceased.
Father also united himself to this county militia.
He uniformly kept apart from the dissipated and
immoral ; so that for his serious and prudent
demeanor he was in his youth called a " Method-ist."
This was felt by him at that time to be a
stigma; for he had then no personal association
with the followers of Wesley, or, indeed, with
evangelical Christians, to whom the opprobrious
term was in those days more generally apj^lied.
Since then, he has happily learned to take the
46 A mother's portrait.
name wliich was flung at him as a reproach for a
mark of real honor.
It was not unreasonable to expect that two so
congenial in disposition and mind as our Mother
and father, when they became acquainted, should
desire the closest union. Their love Avas pure
and strong. In both it was what is usually termed
" first love ;" so the heart of neither had been
scathed or exhausted in affection ; and their
attachment was deep and abiding. At the outset
of their more private intercourse, there was one
imprudent circumstance which produced its painful
consequence. Their intimacy commenced without
our Mother having first sought counsel of her
parents. It may be deemed by some, that it
would have been premature at the time to seek
such counsel, inasmuch as no formal declaration
of affection had then been made. But there is an
instinctive knowledge in true love; and none of
us, my dear Sister, ought to aUow our affections
to become entangled and engaged, without refer-ring
to the counsel of those whose natural duty it
is to direct us. A first step to that which must
MARRIAGE. 47
issue in most important consequences, assuredly
ought not to be taken without parental advice and
sanction.
In this instance, as it must ever be in all trans-gressions
of duty, the fruit was bitterness. One
summer's evening, our Mother w\is walking across
the fields with her suitor, when they unexpectedly
met her father, who, although not unobservant of
their attentions to each other in company, did not
expect to see them thus associated in a retired
walk. In his surprise, grandfather Caborn asked
suddenly, " Bessy, where are you going ?" Con-fused
by the discovery made. Mother replied
hastily, and in words that might be hterally true,
but which always afterwards were remembered
by her as words of fooHsh and dishonorable con-cealment,
"Why, Mr. Jobson was so kind as to
see me home, and I am walking with him part of
the way back again." Such an answer was not
likely to reheve the case; and her father said,
somewhat sharply, " Come home with me !" She
replied, in disobedient words which she never for-got,
" I shall not !" This scene was followed by
tears of sorrow, and by forgiveness ; and led to
48 A mother's POETRAIT.
explanations which had a pleasing and satisfactory
result to all the parties concerned.
On the 7th of September, 1809, our dear
Mother and father were united in marriage at
Dovercourt, in the county of Essex, where the
North Lincoln militia was then stationed. Our
Mother thus entered on a restless and trying life.
She had at that time no fixed home, but was
moving from place to place ; and though from
father's office—which was to provide for the regi-ment—
he was able to secure for his wife the most
available comforts, yet the inconveniences and
hardships of a soldier's life were such as it was
far more easy to relate afterwards, than to bear
at the time. But our dear Mother's cheerful and
buoyant spirit upheld her. I have often heard
her tell of those da^'s of danger and difficulty
—
of fears through Luddite malcontents in Lanca-shire,
and L^sh insurrectionists across the Chan-nel.
Afterwards, she remembered that period of
trial with cheerful gratitude ; so that when in the
lapse of years father had, under her advice, re-signed
his place in the army, and returned from
the delivery at the post-office of his letter of
WANDERINGS. 49
resignation, saying, " Now my soldier's life is
ended !" she burst into tears ; and on being re-minded
that it was with her full consent the resig-nation
had been sent in, she replied, " Yes ; but I
cannot help the tears that flow from the memory
of the past ; for though trying in some of its por-tions,
yet it is to me full of grateful interest."
In these circumstances of a soldier's wandering
life her first two children, John and myself, were
born. When the peace of 1815 was proclaimed,
the militia returned to its own county of Lincoln,
and for the most part was broken up. At first,
father and Mother went to reside at Boston ; and
there sister Anne and brother David were born.
This town is now sunk down to one of less than
second-rate importance; but it was six hundred
years ago one of the most busy and prosperous
of the ports of England. It is also honorably
associated with the names of several of the " Pil-grim
Fathers," who were driven by persecution
to America in the seventeenth century ; and with
the name of Fox the martyrologist, who was born
there, and whose huge folio volume on the mur-derous
deeds of Popery, with its salutary engrav-
3 B
50 A mother's PORTEAIT.
ings, you will not fail to remember. This town,
however, will be principally known to you by its
stately church-tower, of three hundred feet high,
standing near to the line of the Great Northern
Railway, and finished at the top with its beautiful
octagonal lantern, which in former times was
lighted at night for the benefit of voyagers and
travellers in the Lincolnshire Fens, before those
parts were drained and enclosed. After the con-clusion
of the w^ar, our dear parents resided at
Boston for a few years. Probably they were
drawn to it by family associations—father's uncles
having resided there and in the neighborhood.
But it did not long prove satisfactory to them as
a j)lace of residence, though several impressive
providential circumstances, both to themselves
and their children, became indelibly associated
with it. And at length father finding it incon-venient
frequently to travel to Lincoln, where the
remaining staff of the militia was to which he still
belonged, they removed to that city, and made it
the place of their permanent abode.
Over the description of ancient Lincoln I could
fain linger fondly, as well as over Beverley, en-
SETTLEMENT. 51
cleared as it is to us by such deep and varied
associations. But to yourself this is scarcely
needful. Its time-honored and grand remains
—
the magnificent cathedral^ enthroned so proudly
" on its sovereign hill," the superb ruins of the
Episcopal palace, the stern old Castle Keep, the
imposing Roman North Gate, and its numerous
other mementoes of military, feudal, and ecclesi-astical
influence—must often seem to present
themselves almost to your sight; nor are you
unfamiliar with the names of historic fame con-nected
with old Lincoln. I need only observe,
in concluding this letter, that to us, as Christians,
the grand old city has still nobler attractions,
inasmuch as it was there the work of conversion
began in our family : it was the spiritual birth-place
of some who were near and dear to us and
have "passed into the skies," as well as of some
that remain upon earth.
'gtiitt il).
• Open your gates, ye everlasting piles !
Types of the spiritual Church which God hath reared.
Not loth we quit the newly-hallowed sward
And humble altar, 'mid your sumptuous aisles
To kneel,—or thrid your intricate defiles ;
—
Or down the nave to pace in motion slow.
Watching, with upward eye, the tall tower grow
And mount, at every step, with living wiles
Instinct,—to rouse the heart and lead the will
By a bright ladder to the world above.
Open your gates, ye monuments of love
Divine ! thou Lincoln, on thy sovereign hill
!
Thou stately York ! and ye, whose splendors cheer
Isis and Cam, to patient science dear !"
WORDSWORTH.
AN AGED FATHER. 53
In the city of Lincoln, when our clear Mother
went to reside there, her own father had akeady
settled, with his unmarried daughter. Aunt Sarah.
He Hved in a stone house on the right-hand side
of the road leading from the Castle Hill to the
'Chequer Gate of the Cathedral; and had by this
time become the subject of the renewing and
saving grace of God.
Grandfather Caborn's conversion was somewhat
remarkable in its circumstances ; and considering
his relation to lier, as well as the fact that he was
the chosen instrument of Mother's conversion, I
deem it well to describe his spiritual case, and
what led to his serious impressions. He had re-tired
from active life, and spent much of his time
in fishing and shooting. Of fishing he was pas-sionately
fond, as the family on that side seem to
have been. I have heard Mother relate how, in
her young days, she used to accompany him to
angle in summer, and used to sit with him in a
boat, through successive hours, until late in the
evening, reading to him, or preparing his baits.
He was also fond of his gun. One day, he was
shooting on the ground south of the Bishop's
£2
o4 A mother's poetrait.
Palace ruins, "when, in running to take up a fallen
bird, he stumbled over the stump of a broken
tree, and hurt his leg. Being at an advanced
age, the hurt threatened to be serious in its con-sequences,
and confined him for a considerable
time to his chamber. Here he began to reflect on
his past life, and to think of an approaching eter-nity,
for which he knew himself to be unprepared.
He had in the room a book of devotions by
the Hev. Robert Russell,—a book well-known a
generation or two ago : he opened it on a form of
prayer just suited to his feelings, and began to
repeat the prayer with all his heart. He was
graciously heard in heaven ; and the act led to
true repentance. Afraid to be half-hearted, he
earnestly resolved to write down all his past sins,
so far as he could remember them, and to seek
forgiveness for them, one by one. The long,
dark catalogue, when he had drawn it out, as well
it might, almost drove him to despair. He spent
weeks of contrite bitterness, could scarcely eat,
drink, or sleep ; and his friends were afraid he
would lose his reason. They remonstrated; but
he persevered until he obtained deliverance.
AX AGED FATHER. 55
One day, while agonizing for mercy in the name
of the Lord Jesus Christ, with the long list of his
offences spread out before him, he was enabled by
the faith of the heart to appropriate the merits of
his Divme Saviour to his own case as a sinner,
when he immediately felt flow into his soul "the
peace of God which passeth all understanding,"
and became divinely assured that his sins which
were many were all forgiven.
He walked now for some time in the hght of
God's countenance. But an hour came when
under special provocation he gave way to anger,
and was brought mto the darkness of condemna-tion.
He lost the Comforter ; but mourned his
absence night and day until he returned. Havmg
no worldly cares, he devoted himself to a wholly
religious life ; and attended for Divine worship
at the cathedral twice a day, not only on the
Sabbath, but on each day of the week. In win-ter-
time, it must have been a cold, shivering ser-vice
for him, an aged man, in that immense hollow
pile, where his only companions would be—exclu-sive
of a few chirping robins—the dignitary in
residence, the priest-vicar for the day, the organ-
56 A mother's portrait.
ist, and the choristers^ with now and then an
attendant from curiosity. But as regularly as
the cathedral bell began to sound its summons
for worshippers, he sought his hat and stick, and
pacing his way through " the long-drawn aisle" of
the nave of that venerable building, and entering
the choir by the door of the organ-screen, he took
his place in the pews.
He was considerably more than sixty years of
age when he experienced this inward and spiritual
change, and he lived to be eighty. He continued
his attendance at the cathedral to that advanced
age, as also the rigid practice of fasting from food
of any kind, until six o'clock in the evening, on
Wednesdays and Fridays. This latter practice,
to such extent, he used to say, he would not
recommend to others ; (for, no doubt, he felt its
severity at his great age, and with his rapid waste
of hfe;) but, having vowed unto the Lord con-cerning
it when he had yielded to anger, he was
faithful to perform that which he had vowed.
His attendance at the cathedral services, and at
the administration of the Lord's Supper, attracted
the attention of the minster clergy. His devout
ANAGEDFATHER. 57
manner impressed them : they visited him, and
conversed with him. But they were perplexed
by what he related to them of his conversion, and
of his religious experience. They said he must
be in error : such things as he spoke of only
belonged to the day of Pentecost, and the times
of the apostles : there was no such thing as the
assurance of salvation now ! Yet he remained
unshaken, testified of what he knew, and sup-ported
what he said by passages from the Scrip-tures
and the Book of Common Praj'^er. He
used to express great regret that he turned to
God so late in life; yet he was a truly happy
saint. I well remember the upright, slender old
man speaking with thankfulness of the goodness
and mercy of God to him ; and how the swift
tears of joy flowed down his aged cheeks, as he
enclaimed in fihal love, " Abba, Father ! Abba,
Father !"
'
There were, indeed, times when he was so
"filled with the Spirit" that his frame shook with
the Divine Presence. He spent all his spare time
and money among the sick and the poor. He had
for many years greatly enjoyed life, with all its
3*
58 A mother's portrait.
warm associations, and was naturally afraid of
death ; so that when first attacked by the sickness
which brought him to his end, he shivered and
shrank away from the cold river, being much har-assed
by the Evil One. But by prayer and faith
he obtained strength to go over Jordan : said he
knew that the Lord would not only save him, but
also his children's children; and died on the 3d
of July, 1819, triumphantly exclaiming, "The
room is full of light : angels are come for me !^
' grave, where is thy victory ? death, where
is thy sting?'"
As soon as grandfather became himself a par-taker
of the saving grace of God, he began to
desire and seek the salvation of others, especially
of his own family. His strong affection for Mother
led him to visit her daily,—though living more
than a mile from our dwelHng, which was below
the " Steep Hill,"—and constrained him to speak
frequently to her on the necessity of seeking the
salvation of her soul. She readily listened to
him, and rejoiced in his peaceful and happy condi-tion.
But what he said concerning regeneration
CONVERSION. 59
as an essential preparation for heaven, was as
mysterious to her as that which was spoken by
the Saviour to Nicodemus of okl. One day, how-ever,
when her father had been speaking earnestly
to her on this great work of the Holy Spirit, she
evinced considerable emotion ; and he invited her
to accompany him on Good-Friday—which was
near—to receive the Lord's Supper at the cathe-dral.
She promised him that she would do so
;
but perhaps as much under the influence of filial
obedience as of any other feehng. Then her father
observed, that the sacrament of the Lord's Supper
was a very solemn ordinance ; and, after explain-ing
to her its nature and object, he spoke to her
of the preparatory duties to be performed before
going to partake of it, and esjDecially of repentance
and earnest prayer. She said, " I will pray to
God ; but what I have to repent of I do not
know, except it be the want of sufficient love and
obedience to you." " There is no necessity on
that account," said the f^ither ; " but there is for
your want of love and obedience to God, 3"our
Heavenly Father ; and that you may see this, let
us now take the Ten Commandments, and read
60 amother'sportrait.
them one by one. I will read, and you shall ex-amme
yourself and answer as I proceed."
The Bible or the Prayer-book was brought, and
the reading began. To the first commandment,
not knowing its spiritual meaning, and viewing it
only in a literal interpretation, Mother answered,
"I have not to repent in relation to that com-mandment;
for I always acknowledged the true
God." Neither could she perceive that she was
guilty of transgression in relation to the second
and third commandments. But Avhen the fourth
was read, she said, " I must acknowledge that I
have not always obeyed that, and kept the Sab-bath
holy to the Lord." The commandment now
came home to her heart with all the power of the
law wdiich convinces of sin : the Spirit's SAVord
pierced her : she was soon broken down into deep
and godly sorrow ; and not only before her father,
but alone in her chamber, she confessed her sins
and prayed for Divine forgiveness. Light now
began to shine on other commandments concern-ing
which she had previously declared herself to
be "Not guilty." She discerned how she had
committed the sin of idolatry with regard to her-
CONVERSION. 61
self, her familyj and the world ; how she had used
the name of the Lord without reverence, and had
therefore taken it in vain. During the days that
elapsed before Good-Friday, she sought forgiveness
with strong cries and many tears. She mourned
over her sinfulness in the darkness of the night,
and in secret ; and, wherever she was, poured out
her complaint to God.
Good-Friday morning came : she joined her
aged father, and with much fear and trembling
entered the cathedral. She penitently engaged
in the public prayers ; and when she heard the
minister's sermon on the pitying love of Christ,
which led him to give himself a ransom for sin-ners,
she felt her whole nature suffused with godly
sorrow, so that it seemed as if it would dissolve
her very life within. The first service being con-cluded.
Mother remained, with her father and the
few communicants ; and when at the table of the
Lord, and while partaking of the emblems and
memorials of the body and blood of Christ, she
had such a vivid view of his atoning sacrifice as
at once inspired her whole soul with love to him,
so that, as I have heard her say, she could then
62 A mother's PORTRAIT.
have shouted aloud her adoration of him. She
went home still more fully bowed down with
inward sacred grief^ and entered her chamber.
There she prayed, meditated, recited passages
of Holy Scripture, and verses of hymns, alter-nately.
And while pacing the room, and speak-ing
to herself in the words of that solemn
hymn on the Crucifixion, by Samuel Wesley the
elder,
—
" Behold the Saviour of mankind,
Nailed to the shameful tree !
How vast the love that him inclined
To bleed and die for me
!
" Hark how he groans,—while nature shakes,
And earth's strong pillars bend:
The temple's veil in sunder breaks,
The solid marbles rend !
"'T is done! the precious ransom's paid:
'Receive my soul!' he cries:
See where he bows his sacred head
!
He bows his head and dies !"
—
she was enabled to apply by faith the efficacious
merit of Christ's sacrifice to her own case as a
sinner. And when she reached the remaining
verse
CONVERSION. 63
"But soon he'll bi'eak death's envious chain,
And in full glory shine
!
Lamb of God, was ever pain,
Was ever love like thine ?"
—
and repeated it, her soul was liberated from its
sepulchre and grave-clothes of sin ; and she rose
exultantly into the full hght and liberty of a
spiritual chUd of God. The Divine testimony of
her adoption was thus clear and decided. There
was nothing vague or uncertain in this part of her
experience. And of how great importance this
clear sense of her adoption was, the truly spiritual
believer only can comprehend. It was the strong
source of that powerful faith which she so fre-quently
afterwards exercised in prayer, as also of
her clear trust in Divine providence ; while it
mingled with and illumined all her thoughts and
prospects of death and eternity. Good-Friday
was always after her conversion observed by her as
a day of commemorating her " death unto sin, and
new birth unto righteousness ;" and as a solemn
feast-day to her soul. And nearly all the regen-erate
children of God must feel that such days
should be thus gratefully and devoutly marked in
the calendar of their lives.
64 A mothee's portrait.
For some time our dear Mother walked in the
unclouded brightness of the Divine favor. She
was in the land of Beulah. It seemed a new
world in which she now lived : creation appeared
more lovely j her affections to her family were
felt to be more pure and strong ; she had no fear
or sorrow; wondered what temptation was, and
was ready to say, " My mountain standeth
strong : I shall never be moved." But, at length,
the adversary was permitted to approach. He
came down in great power and wrath : set all her
past sins in fearful array before her, and with
aggravating circumstances : tempted her to doubt
her forgiveness, and to believe that all her joyous
experience of the love of God was a delusion.
Satan also injected unbelieving and blasphemous
thoughts, until he had filled her soul with dark-ness.
This severe conflict continued for several
weeks. She loathed food, had but little sleep,
and the trial almost exhausted her hfe. But
amidst it all she struggled to keep hold of Christ,
—though, as Fletcher says, it was " naked faith
holding by a naked promise,"—and finally gained
the victory.
ENTRANCE INTO METHODISM. 65
This was, perhaps, the greatest spuitual trial
she ever endured. It was her fight with Apol-lyon,
and was strong in her remembrance to the
end of her days. It was no doubt overruled for
her religious benefit, and taught her to distinguish
between sin and the powerful temptations of the
Evil One : a point of experience on which young
Christians especially are liable to detrimental and
discouraging error. She came out of the struggle
with increased graces : the victory was encourag-ing
to herself; and she often spoke of it for the
benefit of others.
Soon after her conversion, our dear Mother
began to attend occasionally the Sabbath and
week-evening services at the Methodist chapel
in St. Swithin's Lane ; there being at that time
no evening church service in the city of Lincoln,
except at St. Martin's, which was a mile distant
from her home, but whither she sometimes went.
Her aged father also began to attend the Wes-leyan
place of worship on Sabbath evenings with
her. They both found here, under the Good
Shepherd, green pastures and still waters for the
66 A mother's portrait.
soul; and thus, tliougii reckoning themselves
members of the Established Church, and attend-ing
its services when practicable, yet, hungering
and thirsting after righteousness, they persevered
in going to the Wesleyan chapel on the Sabbath
and week-day evenings.
Their attendance at the chapel soon attracted
the attention of the earnest and pious Methodists
of that day; and more esj)ecially of a good old
saint, a class-leader of the name of Noble Sproule.
In those days, at least, it was rarely or ever the
case that a devout attendant on the means of
grace would be left long without personal inquiry
and invitations. Noble Sproule was a pensioner
from the army, and spent his whole time in doing
good. He had raised by his own exertions, under
the Divine blessing, several of the classes then in
existence ; and met the members under his care
principally in his own humble dwelhng, up a pas-sage
on the south side of the river Witham,—left
of the High Bridge, which is shown, with its fish-mongers'
obelisk, at the head of Letter XII.,
—
and near to which stood the first Methodist
chapel in Lincoln. This venerable servant of the
ENTRANCE INTO METHODISM. 67
Lord, who was always on the watch for oppor-tunities
of usefuhiess, and always gathering into
his classes persons whom he observed to be
attentive and devout at the seasons of worship,
soon spied out Mother and her husband,—who
had begun to attend the chapel with her. He
offered to obtain for them a suitable pew, and
invited them to become weekly associates in his
house with them that feared the Lord, and spake
to each other of God's work within them. Father
and Mother hesitated for some time : not being
willing to separate themselves so fully from the
Established Church as this would seem to imply
;
not comprehending the real character of a Method-ist
class-meeting; and not deeming themselves
worthy of being so intimately joined in fellowship
with the saints of the Lord.
At length, after the real character and object
of meeting in class had been explained to them,
they went, and found what was truly helpful as
well as congenial to them. Father had by this
time become seriously impressed with the import-ance
of personal religion ; indeed, it was impossi-ble
for one so devoted to his wife as he was, to
68 amother'sporteait.
see such earnestness in lier and remain uncon-cerned.
Family prayer liad been established,
though they were not able to conduct it without
the help of the Book of Common Prayer, This
was their daily practice for some years ; and they
used also to read the Collect, Gospel, and Epistle
for the day. And though the Methodist chapel
became afterwards their stated place of worship,
yet they never wholly forsook the services of the
cathedral and the parish church. ' The Prayer-book
also was occasionally used after they ceased
to trust to it entirely, and after they had learned
to pour out their hearts before God in free spon-taneous
petitions. The grateful recollection that
the Church of England had been the spiritual
birthplace of Mother, her father, and her hus-band,
forbade that they should hold it in slight
estimation, or wholly forsake it.
But Methodism was our dear Mother's true
home. There was something in its social, joyous
character, peculiarly suited to her temperament.
Its hymns of fervor and true devotion, its unre-stricted
doctrines of grace and salvation, and its
varied means of usefulness, well suited her ardent,
A PRIMITIVE CLASS-MEETING. 69
generous, and active soul. Tlie class-meeting was
especially delightful to her, whose whole spirit
seemed constantly to be crying out with the
Spouse in the Canticles, " Tell me, thou whom
my soul loveth, where thou feedest, and where
thou makest thy flock to rest at noon." She had
much to relate of the loving-kindness of the Lord,
and therefore was glad to join in this more inti-mate
communion of God's children.
I remember well those seasons of Christian
fellowship in the good old man's house, when but
a little child I went with father and Mother, and
sat on a low wooden stool by the fireside. Against
the plain deal table, with the Bible and hymn-book
open before him, and in a high-backed chau',
sat the tall old man. Noble Sproule, the class-leader,
clothed in black, and with a dark brown
wig over his strongly-marked, Aveather-beaten,
soldier-like visage. Around the table, on forms
and chairs, were as many as the room would
hold, rich and poor together. A hymn was sung,
prayer was offered up, the leader related his
week's spiritual experience, and then in his primi-tive
style proposed a suitable question to each
70 A mother's iPORTRAIT.
member, such as, "Mary, what is the state of
your soul?" "John, has this been a good week
to you rehgiously?" "WiUiam, has the Lord
been blessing you since you were last with us ?"
At the close of each brief reply, suitable coun-sel
was given by the leader ; and when the entire
class had been spoken to, the Bible was read or
referred to : another verse or two of a hymn was
sung : perhaps,
—
"Help us to help eacli other, Lord,
Each other's cross to bear:
Let each his friendly aid afford.
And feel his brother's care."
Or, it might be,
"We all partake the joy of one,
The common peace we feel: a
A peace to sensual minds unknown,
A joy unspeakable."
And sometimes the rapturous enjoyment in the
meeting was such as required for its expres-sion,
—
"And if our fellowship below
In Jesus be so sweet,
"What heights of rapture shall we know.
When round his throne we meet!"
A PRIBIITIVE CLASS-MEETING. 71
Then prayer was again offered, hearty responses
were heard ; and the members, after contributmg
to the Church of God as they were able, and
after expressing kindly inquiries regarding each
other's welfare, shook hands and parted.
Scenes of more primitive Christian simplicity
than these at Noble Sproule's were never wit-nessed.
How that band of Christ's discijiles wept,
rejoiced, and prayed together ! In that homely
room, where they " spake often one to another,"
they looked into each other's hearts and lives, and
found how similar were their temptations and their
sorrows. How artlessly they told each other
what God had done for their souls, until they re-joiced
exceedingly : the very bruised reed breathed
praise, and the smoking flax burst forth into a
flame ! And then how with united emphasis they
hfted the prayer aloud ! The heavens rent at
their cry, and God came down with saving power
!
"Joy unspeakable and full of glory" swelled each
breast, and filled each eye. The lambent flame
seemed to leap from heart to heart, until the spirit-ual
rapture was only inferior to that of the tri-umphant
choir above.
tittx Ij,
'* The love of Christ doth me constrain
To seek the Tvandering sons of'men;
With cries, entreaties, tears, to save,
To snatch them from the gaping grave.
" For this let men revile my name :
No cross I shun, I fear no shame
:
All hail, reproach ! and welcome, pain
!
Only thy terrors. Lord, restrain."
TRANSLATED FROM PAUL GERHARD, BY WESLEY.
It should be remembered that it required some
degree of moral heroism to become a Methodist,
at the time father and Mother joined the Society.
METHODISM IN LINCOLN. 73
I well recollect that when a child at school I was
taunted with the name on their account ; and that
when our parents were going to the class-meeting,
or to the chapel, ribald Sabbath-breakers would
scoff at them in the street. This, however, never
made them shrink from the performance of duty:
it was rather regarded as a token that Satan was
enraged because they had escaped from his evil
slavery ; and so they persevered and rejoiced.
Persecution sometimes took more offensive forms
than this, even at that period. Profane youths
would let sparrows loose in the meetings ; and
thus the lights were sometimes put out while the
worshippers were on their knees. It must be
confessed, that the more influential classes of
society too often heard of these doings with com-placency;
for it was deemed any thing but re-spectable
to be a Methodist, and the persecution
of Methodists by such means was, by some, only
reckoned " good pastime." Our dear parents clung
to their new profession in spite of the world's
judgment that it was disreputable ; and were not
backward in showing that, whatever the world
might say or do, they were determined to be on
4 G
74 A mothee'sporteait.
the Lord's side. I remember when the square in
front of our house at St. Mark's Place was occu-pied
by Methodist ministers who came to preach
there in the open air, how father and Mother
welcomed them, took out chairs for them, and
risked both chairs and windows ; for stones would
sometimes be thrown on these occasions, and
something like a riot be attempted.
These, however, were but mild forms of perse-cution,
as compared with what was experienced
by those who had courage enough to take upon
them the opprobrious name of "Methodist" in
the beginning. A rapid glance at the manner in
which Methodism was introduced into Lincoln-shire,
and at its local history up to the time that
our dear Mother became connected with it, may
enable you to understand the position and influ-ence
of the Church she had now joined, and with
which she was actively and usefully associated to
the end of her life on earth ; as well as to become
acquainted with the character and labors of the
first instruments employed by God for its estab-lishment
in the land.
Of that lamentable state of depravity and spirit-
METHODISM IN LINCOLNSHIRE. 75
ual degradation into which England had too gen-erally
sunk before Wesley and Whitefield began
their evangelical labors, Lincolnshire largely par-took.
It seems, indeed, to have had in this
respect a bad preeminence, and to have been
morally worse than most other counties. Fearful
ignorance, love of cruel and brutal sports, vulgar
drunkenness, and other gross forms of wickedness,
mingled with pitiable superstition, marked its
population. For a considerable time after the
Wesleys had commenced their itinerant work,
though this was their native county, the benighted
people of Lincolnshire had shared little of their
labors, compared with the poor superstitious
Papists of L^eland, the miners of Wales, the keel-men
of the Tyne, the colliers of Yorkshire, Staf-fordshire,
and Kingswood, and the smugglers and
miners of Cornwall. This might be from the
comparative isolation of the shire ; for it was not,
at that time, in the great thoroughfare of the
kingdom, and was regarded principally as the land
of fens and the region of ague. Mr. Wesley's
personal visits to it were few ; and his itinerant
fellow-laborers were very thinly scattered over
76 A mother's poetrait.
the county. And when the kmgdom had been
divided into twenty circuits, Lincolnshire and part
of Nottinghamshire formed but one circuit, with
only two preachers, who were two months in going
their round, so that they could visit the chief
places but seldom, and had scarcely any time at
home.
" To be a Methodist preacher," said Mr. Wes-ley
to one of them who was going forth on his
itinerant labors, "is not the way to ease, honor,
pleasure, or profit. It is a life of much labor and
reproach. They often fare hard : often are in
want. They are liable to be beaten, stoned, and
abused in various manners. Consider this, before
you engage in so uncomfortable a way of Hfe."
And thus the preachers first appointed to Lincoln-shire
found it ; for they went to privation, suffer-ing,
and hardship, amidst a rude, ignorant, and
immoral people ; and into a country only partially
drained and abounding with fens,—where the
waters often were out, and the bad roads often
hidden in unenclosed j)arts with snow. Imagine
one of the early preachers sent forth into such a
circuit. He perhaps received his appointment
SCENES OF PEESECUTION. 77
unexpectedly ; for though Mr. Wesley never sent
out unknown and untried men, yet there was not
the formal process of the quarterly and district
meetings in those infant days. One of the preach-ers
would, perhaps, recommend the new man as
having evinced grace, gifts, and fruit, in preaching
the gospel locally; and Mr. Wesley would take
note of him for himself, place his name on a special
list, and send him forth into the wider field when
necessity required. The preacher thus appointed
had to provide himself with a horse ; with saddle-hags
to hold his wardrobe, books, and not unfre-quently
his meals ; and to go forth a complete
" stranger in a strange land." The home provided
for him was perhaps a small room in the house of
some poor person, where he had his " bed, table,
stool, and candlestick," like the Prophet Elisha, in
the house of the Shunammite. In this room he
would not spend more than one or two nights
within a month. His fare was always homely,
and not always certain.
What kind of reception these first missionaries
of Methodism met with in Lincolnshire, you may
find from some of their autobiographies, written
78 A mothee's portrait.
at Mr. Wesley's request, and inserted by him in
the early volumes of the "Arminian Magazine."
Thus Thomas Mitchell relates : " In the year
1751, I Avas stationed in Lincolnshire. I found a
serious people and an open door ; hut there were
many adversaries. This was by far the most try-ing
year which I had ever known." And then
follows a description of the barbarous treatment
he received at Wrangle, where, after preaching at
five o'clock in the morning, two constables seized
him, kept him till four in the afternoon, and then
delivered him to the mob, who threw him into a
pool of standing water, made him pass seven times
through it,—though it reached up to his neck,
—
and then painted his wet clothes all over with
white paint. They now took him to a pubhc-house,
and kept him there till they had put five
of his friends into the water. Then they carried
him out, and threw him into a great pond, which
was ten or twelve feet deep, where he became
senseless ; but they dragged him out and put him
to bed. Very soon they pulled him violently out
of bed, carried him into the street, and threatened
to take away one of- his limbs, unless he would
SCENES OF PERSECUTION. 79
promise to come there no more. He would give
no such promise ; and now they consulted one by
whose counsel they seem to have been all along
guided—" the minister !" We have thus a proof
of the fact, then too well apparent, that at that
period some of the clergy were as awfully degraded
as the people. "The minister" told them they
must take the preachers out of the parish. Mr.
Mitchell's own clothes were unfit to put on ; so
they put an old coat about him, took him a mile,
and set him upon a hill, and there left him,
"penniless and friendless," after shouting three
times, " God save the king, and the devil take the
preacher !" Weak and ill as he was, he succeeded
with extreme difficulty in reaching the house of a
friend who resided three or four miles off; and
here he was kindly cared for, but had to rest four
days before he recovered so far as to be able to
resume his itinerant labors.
" Then," says he, " I went into the circuit,
where I met with more persecution. As I was
preaching in a certain village in the Fen, the mob
came into the house, and broke through the con-gregation,
in order to pull me down ; but the good
80 A mother's poetrait.
woman of the house took me into the parlor, and
stood in the door with a great kitchen-poker in
her hand, and tokl the mob, the first man that
came near the door she woukl knock him down."
The woman's threat was effectual ; and the mob
" left the house without doing much harm." How
vain were these wild endeavors of the servants of
Satan, either in injuring the soul of this persecuted
man of God, or in checking God's work, may be
seen by a few striking sentences in tliis account
of Thomas Mitchell. " From the beginning to the
end," says he, " my mind was in perfect peace.
I found no anger or resentment, but could heartily
pray for my persecutors." " In the midst of this
persecution, many were brought to the saving
knowledge of God ; and as the sufferings of Christ
abounded, so our consolations by Christ abounded
also."
The work of these Christian pioneers was, how-ever,
hazardous and trying for man}^ succeeding
years. In another volume of the "Arminian
Magazine" we have an account of the treatment
met with in Lincolnshke in the year 1757, by
Alexander Mather, a man of early education and
SCENES OF PERSECUTION. 81
of well-disciplined mind, as well as of earnest and
persevering labor. He relates liow, while standing
up to preach in the market-place of Boston, a large
mob appeared, with a drum beating before them,
and threw squibs among the people. Finding it
impossible to be heai'd, the preacher proposed re-moving
with his friends to another place, when
they were assailed with dirt and stones that "flew
like hail on every side." One of the mob struck
up Mr. Mather's heels, and others gave Mm blows.
Another collared him, with the intent to throw
liim into a horse-pond ; but this was prevented by
a gentleman. Returning into the town to get liis
horse, dirt was hm'led upon him from the street-gutters.
Before he reached his imi, again they
attempted to strike up his heels, but failed. "At
the same time," he continues, " one threw a stone,
which struck me on the temple. I then concluded
I must die in their hands ; but, by the mercy of
God, I was strangely brought through aU the mul-titude
to the inn where I had ahghted. Being
sat down, my first thought was, ' Father, forgive
them ; for they know not what they do.' Indeed,
my mmd (glory be to God!) was kept through
4*
82 A mother's portrait.
the whole in perfect peace. By this time some
of my friends, who had followed at a distance,
were come in, and were washing my wound, when
the mob came to the door, threatening what they
would do to the house, if the landlord did not
turn me out After a while I mounted
my horse in the yard, and then, the gates being
opened, rode through a shower of stones, and came
safe to our friend's house. But I was so bruised,
almost from head to foot, that when I was cold,
I could hardly stir. And it was a full year
before I quite recovered the hurts which I then
received."
A year later, another of these Methodist mis-sionaries,
Thomas Lee, gives us a brief memo-
^j., randum, which shows us that though the sowing
of the spiritual seed had been hard work for the
sowers, it had fallen into good ground. " In the
year 1758," says he, "I was stationed in Lincoln-shire.
The whole county, now divided into three,"
(he writes in 1779,) ''was then only in one cir-cuit.
So I spent two months in the eastern part,
and then two months in the western. I was in
this circuit about sixteen months in all. And I
SCEXES OF PERSECUTION. 83
did not labor in vain. There was a very consider-able
increase in the societies, and many souls were
brought to the saving knowledge of God. And
though the rides were long, and the work was
hard, yet all was made easy and comfortable.
The Lord was greatly with us, and the people in
general were loving and teachable ; and I know
not if I shall ever love a people better on this side
eternity."
Methodism obtained a footing in several places
within the county, before it was received in the
city of Lincoln itself. The village of Newton
seems to have been the first of the places now in
the Lincoln circuit at which a society was formed.
But here, again, its infancy was one of persecu-tion.
Thus, the Rev. Abraham Watmough, in his
" History of Methodism in the Neighborhood and
City of Lincoln," relates that "the society at
Newton was in existence before the year 1750,
about which period they held their meetings in the
house of a person of the name of Skelton, a re-spectable
resident of the place, whom the mob
treated severely for harboring the Methodists
under his roof. They broke all the windows in
84 A mother's poetrait.
his house to sliivers. Next, they went to the
stable, and, cutting the mane and tail off the
preacher's horse, proceeded to tar and cover it
with feathers." At North Scarle, also within the
present Lincoln Circuit, and on the same side of it
as Newton, Mr. Wesley (as we find from his
"Journal") preached in 1759; and thither multi-tudes
flocked to hear him from the neighboring
places. Yet his account of this visit reveals the
mournful fact, that the people were then in a sad
state of spiritual darkness. He tells us that
though he spoke on the first principles of rehgion,
and as plainly as he could, they understood him
as httle as though he had spoken Greek. Mr.
Wesley visited Newton in 1770, and thus highly
commends the society, which had now twenty
years of religious growth upon it : "A people more
loving, more artless, or more athirst for God, I
have seldom seen." At least as early as this, the
societies at Besthorpe and Girton, contiguous to
Newton and Scarle, are believed to have been
formed.
At Scothorn, on the other side of Lincoln,
Methodism was introduced in 1779, by Mary
METHODISM IN LINCOLN. 85
Daubney, a poor widow w^lio had several cliildren.
She had been led to hear the word at Lincoln,
where Methodism is said to have made unavailing
efforts about that time. She invited the preachers
to Scothorn, and a society was formed in her
house. Here, also, arose the first local preacher
whom God raised up within the hmits of what
now forms the Lincoln Circuit—Mr. Thomas Wat-son.
Mary Daubney removed to Nettleham,
three miles from Lincoln, and also introduced
Methodism there. She w^as for more than half a
century a member of the society, and died in
peace in the nmety-fifth year of her age. Prior
to the year 1780, the villages of Newton, Scarle,
Besthorpe, Girton, and Scothorn, were the only
places within the present Lincoln Circuit where
Methodism had obtained a permanent footing ; but
there were societies at Broxholme and Sturton,
two villages within nine miles of Lmcoln, and now
in the Gainsborough Circuit. Here already three
local preachers had been raised up—Messrs. Wil-liam
Mawer, Joseph Frith, and Mr. William
Fhntham.
Mr. Wesley records that in June, 1780, he
86 A mother's portrait.
preached on the Castle-Hill at Lincoln, to a large
and attentive congregation, called together by the
city crier ; having come over to do so, after fifty
years' absence from the place, at the request of a
gentleman. He also preached again on the Castle-
Hill next morning, until a heavy shower prevented
his proceeding; when the county court-house was
opened to liim, and he preached from the magis-trates'
bench, to as many persons as could crowd
into the building. He also preached in Lincoln in
the year following; but though the people seem
to have treated Mr. Wesley himself respectfully,
Methodism had as yet no deep hold upon the
city. Lincoln, with all its numerous churches,
was at that period exceedingly dark and, we
might say, barbarous. Even up to a time within
my own memory, crowds used eagerly to bait a
bull—after driving the poor animal with frantic
shouts through the streets until it became infuri-ated—
at an open space which has given a name to
the locahty, of " Bull-ring Terrace." The clergy
were then ahnost entirely without evangelical
light. Some were pubhc gamesters and sports-men,
and some were flagrantly intemperate. The
METHODISM IN LINCOLN. 87
cathedral dignitaries appeared at balls, on the race-course,
in the theatre, and in taverns, and even in
the news-room on the Sabbath. Happily, a most
beneficial change has since occurred, and devoted
clergymen may now be found within the city ; but
such was the state of Lincoln not only in Mr.
Wesley's time, but also many years following;
and it may account for the fact, that seven years
after he preached on the Castle-Hill, though
Methodism was akeady established in some vil-lages
near, there was not a single Methodist in
Lincoln itself.
The humble rank and character of the instru-ment
selected by Divine Providence for securing
the estabhshment of Methodism in Lincoln, re-minds
us of apostolic times, when the poor and
despised of mankind were chosen to prepare the
way for the permanent triumphs of Christianity
;
and when, as in the case of Lydia, the first Chris-tian
convert in Europe, a female, saved through
the truth herself, cherished and maintained it to
the benefit of others. Sarah Parrott, a poor
woman hving at Bracebridge, two miles from Lin-coln,
was a Methodist, and went weekly to Stur-
88 A MOTHER'S PORTRAIT.
ton, six or seven miles distant from her home, to
meet in class. There, while expressing her pious
wishes for the conversion of the people of Lincoln,
she heard of Mrs. Fisher, of Gunnerby, a person
of property, and distinguished for her attachment
to Methodism. Sarah Parrott forthwith set out
on foot for a journey of twenty-seven miles to
Mrs. Fisher, and earnestly besought her to come
and live in Lincoln, take the Methodist preachers
into her house, and thus lay a foundation for a
society in the city. The sincere, simple character
of Sarah Parrott seems to have made a great im-pression
on the mind of Mrs. Fisher ; and though
she did not instantly comply with the entreaty, it
was not long before she concluded that this was
really a call from God to usefulness ; for she soon
afterwards removed to Lincoln, and invited the
preachers to visit the city regularly in their
rounds.
This was at the close of 1787, "as appears,"
says Mr. Watmough, " from a letter in Mr. Wes-ley's
own handwriting, now lying before me.
This letter, which is dated the 18th of January,
1788, was written to Mr. Lancelot Harrison, a
METHODISM IN LINCOLN. 89
preacher of Mr. Wesley's, then on the drciiit."
An old lumber-room, near the Gowts' Bridge, was
the only place that could at first be procured ; and
this they fitted up for religious worship. Here
the first Methodist class-meeting was held in Lin-coln,
and consisted of four females—Mrs. Fisher,
Sarah Parrott, Hannah Calder, (mother of the
Rev. Frederick Calder, lately an itinerant minister
in our Connection,) and Elizabeth Iveyley. On
the 4th of August, 1788, Mr. Wesley visited
Lincoln again; and tells us in his "Journal" that
he preached at noon in Mrs. Fisher's yard to a
large assembly of rich and poor. The new society
prospered, and the labors of the preachers were
owned of God ; for about two years after Mrs.
Fisher came to reside in Lincoln, a new chapel
was built. It would hold five or six hundred per-sons,
and was situate on the south side of the
river Witham, between the High Bridge and the
Swing Bridge. Mr. Wesley visited Lincoln for
the last time on the 1st of July, 1790. "He
preached in the new chapel," it is recorded, " in
the evening to a crowded audience, from, '^ One
thing is needful.' When the congTegation were
90 A mother's PORTRAIT.
retiring from the chapel, a lady exclaimed, in a
tone of great surprise, ' Is this the great Mr. Wes-ley,
of whom we hear so much in the present
day ? Why, the poorest person in the chapel might
understand him !' The gentleman to whom the
remark was made, replied, 'In this. Madam, he
disjolays his greatness, that while the poorest can
understand him, the most learned are edified, and
cannot be offended.'"
Mrs. Fisher not only possessed a share of
worldly wealth, but was a person of superior edu-cation
and manners. She was to the infant cause
of Methodism in Lincoln, and to its ministers,
"the elect lady;" who was not only "given to
hospitality," but devoted her life and property to
the spread of the gospel. She lived by the water-side,
near the chapel, and entertained the ministers
in her house. After her death, one of them had
his residence there. In this house the class and
quarterly meetings were held ; and thither awak-ened
and penitent sinners used to repair, at the
close of religious service in the chapel, to seek the
counsel and prayers of the minister.
At that time, Methodism had no public services
METHODISM IN LINCOLN. 91
in cliurcli hours; and its members attended the
services of the Estabhshed Church, until driven
from it by their knowledge of the immorahty of
the clergy, and by persecution. They then went
to the Old Presbyterian Chapel, until Arian doc-trines
—afterwards changed for Unitarianisni—
began to be preached there ; and then they had
to resort to Sabbath forenoon services of their
own. Help was soon afforded b}^ the coming to
Lincoln of two devoted men, who as local preachers
did much towards the strengthening and exten-sion
of the society. These were Mr. John Han-nah,
a solicitor's clerk; and Mr. Joseph Mawer;
from Broxholme. The former labored for seven
years as a local preacher in Lincoln and the neigh-borhood,
won many souls to God, and then passed
to his eternal reward : the latter was spared for
many years of useful labor. Methodism soon
won its way in the neighborhood : societies were
formed at Navenby, Boothby, Ingham, Thorpe,
Harby, and other villages ; and new laborers were
raised up.
In 1801, Lincoln, which had been a part of the
Gainsborough Circuit, was separated, and mad(3
92 A mother's POETRAIT.
the head of a circuit, having fifteen preaching-places
and three hundred and seventy-six mem-bers.
The circuit thus separated included what
now also forms the Sleaford Circuit. About this
time the number of local preachers in Lincoln was
considerably increased. Among them the names
of Daniel Isaac, Richard Watson, W. Goy, J.
Bedford, Thomas Padman, John Hannah, W.
Bacon, and Frederick Calder, now or soon after
appear. All these names were afterwards found
in our itinerant ministry; and some of them in its
foremost ranks. Among the local preachers raised
up in the villages, perhaps none was more useful
than Mr. Dixon, of Bassingham. He was a man
of superior intelligence and of some wealth. He
built a chapel in Bassingham at his OAvn expense
;
was of inestimable service to those who sought
God in his own village ; and zealously carried the
gospel into new villages, such as Aubourn, where
Mr. Lambe became the leader of a class, and soon
after also built a chapel.
In 1806, a Methodist Sunday-school was raised
on ground belonging to the Rev. Dr. Hannah's
father: a branch of the "Benevolent Society"
METHODISM IN LINCOLN. 93
had already been formed : a third itinerant min-ister
had been sent to the circuit the year
before ; and the cause prospered, while all who
loved it were earnest in every good auxihary
work.
The year 1815 was trebly remarkable for the
Lincoln Wesleyans. Sleaford, with a list of popu-lous
villages, was separated from it, and formed
into a distinct circuit. In Lincoln a new chapel
was built. It stood in the central parish of St.
Peter-at-Arches, and would hold, it is said, nearly
a thousand persons. The Hevs. Richard Watson
and Kobert Newton opened it; and the joy of
the former may be easily conceived, when he wit-nessed
the prosperity of Methodism m the ancient
city, where he well remembered how lowly was
its condition when he first became one of its
members. In this year, also, a branch of the
Wesleyan Missionary Society was formed at Lin-coln
; and thenceforward the city held a position
in Methodism which it had never held before.
The visits of eminent ministers, such as the Revs.
Dr. Coke, Dr. Adam Clarke, Dr. Townley, and
Theophilus Lessey, as well as Richard Watson
94 A mother's poetrait.
and Robert Newton,—some to speak at the mis-sionary
meetings, and others to preach at Sunday-school
or chapel anniversaries,—now compelled
attention to Methodism from many citizens who
had formerly regarded it disrespectfully. There
was also the successive appointment to the cir-cuit
of several powerful and attractive ministers,
such as the Revs. Daniel Isaac, John Hannah,
and Thomas Galland, whom citizens of all classes
thronged to hear. These were assisted by judi-cious
and devoted laymen, such as Mr. William
Mawer, Mr. Brown, Mr. Carrington, and Mr.
Bainbridge ; together with plain and earnest work-ers,
such as Noble Sproule; and a number of
pious and active females, such as Mary PooJe,
Mrs. Bavin, Mary Proudlove, and Mrs. R-aven,
all of whom have left names stOl remembered with
love and gratitude.
Such was the improved condition of Methodism
in Lincoln, and the progress it had made in influ-ence,
when father and Mother became united to
it. Persecution, as I have before observed, had
not ceased ; but our parents lived to see it j)as3
away, often looked back upon the times when it
METHODISM IN LINCOLN. 95
prevailed, and gratefully rejoiced that they cast
in their lot with the people of God when to be
a Methodist was to be a mark for the world's
opprobrium.
' Man is God's image ; but a pooi- man is
Christ's .stamp to boot : both images regard.
God reckons for him, counts the favor his :
AVrite, so much given to God : thou shalt be heard.
Let thy alms go before, and keep heaven's gate
Open for thee ; or both may come too late."
HERBERT.
Having received the spirit of Christ, our dear
Mother began to manifest its fruits in active
benevolence and good-will to her fellow-creatures.
Her family increased quickly; and the business
VISITSTOTHEPOOR. 97
in which our parents had settled required from
her much attention and care; but with a large
family of young children, and with many persons
under her direction, she found almost daily time
for personal visitation of the sick and the poor.
She was blessed with the inestimable quality of
compassion for the needy ; for it is a blessing to
those who possess it, notwithstanding the degree
of suffering there is in sympathy for the distressed.
To feel "the luxury of doing good" is something
more than a well-turned expression ; and so our
dear Mother felt it to be, although incurring the
necessary penalty of bearing new burthens of
anxiety, and sometimes of sorrow, on account of
others.
In addition to the use of her own means—of
which she was ever ready to distribute—she be-came
a visitor for the Benevolent or Stranger's
Friend Society ; and many were the pounds she
gave away out of its funds within a year, though
each gift of relief required a personal visit, and
Avas not allowed to exceed eighteen pence at a
time. Almsgiving to the poor she regarded as a
Christian duty not superseded by parish or
5 I
98 A mother's PORTRAIT.
national provisions. The poor of her own neigh-borhood
were cared for. The cases of widows
and orphans, and of sick and distressed persons,
were named to her acquaintances, as well as made
the subjects of family attention, and the sufferers
were yisited and relieved. Hers was not the
charity which is solely devoted to pubhc acts,
and in which there is often too much of osten-tation.
I need not say that her charity was sometimes
abused. Who that exercises philanthropy has
not some experience of that unwelcome nature?
Beggars came to her door in numbers, which
showed that they knew where they would be
likely to obtain relief; but she had at all times
an ear open for their tales of sorrow and distress,
a word of sympathy for them ; and I cannot re-member
seeing any sent away without help. At
many an affecting account given on the threshold
she has shed tears ; and all around her were thus
taught not to despise the poor. Our dear father
would not unfrequently venture on counsel and
remonstrance against such undistinguishing distri-bution
of alms, as being open to abuse, and as
VISITSTOTHEPOOE. 99
giving encouragement to vagrancy,—letting alone
the annoyance occasioned by the almost continu-ous
rapping at the door. But she had always a
charitable answer ready. Perhaps some youth
had been the beggar ; and then she would remark,
" It may be he is some poor broken-hearted
mother's son." Or the petitioner had pitifully
pleaded that he had been entirely destitute of
food through the day ; and she would say,
—
*' Though he is a beggar, he may be a child of
God : Lazarus was." And often she would an-swer,
"1 would rather be deceived sometimes
than not give to him that needeth."
Now and then, the more prudent distributor of
alms had his charity abused ; and then she would
not fail, in her own good-humored Avay, to im-prove
it. I remember one case wdiich served her
well for a pleasant reminder. It was that of a
colored man, who, by a long story of his hard-ships
while a slave, of his perilous escape from
bondage, of his Christian experience, and of his
temporal necessity, had so wrought on father's
compassion, that he brought the negro home with
him, fed him, and gave him half a crown. The
100 A mother's porteait.
news of a black man being in the kitchen soon
brought down all the children ; and then followed
Mother, to whom father said, " Here is one of
another color, but he is of the same spiritual
family ; and being in need, I have brought him
home with me, to feed and to relieve him." This
was so far satisfactory to Mother. But, with
that instinct which she possessed of almost imme-diately
fastening on the true character of an}^
person before her, she felt uneasy in the man's
presence, and sooner than expected returned to
the sitting-room up-stairs. In the evening of the
same day, the professed Christian negro was seen
reeling about in the streets intoxicated. This
fact, when reported, was of course mortifying in
its revelation of the man's hypocritical wicked-ness,
as well as in his abuse of charity. Mother
did not fail to turn it to account, when afterwards
she might be advised to be more prudent in the
distribution of alms. "Remember," she would
say to her adviser, with a smile that prevented
any ijl effect, "the good black man, the dinner,
and the half-crown." Yet she did not despise
caution; but reflected that it could not always
VISITS TO THE POOR. 10 J
insure the almsgiver against imposition. She
therefore fell back on the conviction of duty :
made that her rule of action ; and valued money
chiefly as a means of doing good. And that same
conviction of duty made her also careful to pro-vide
for her own household.
Relief of temporal want was often with her a
medium of access to the soul; for the spiritual
welfare of her feUow-creatures Avas her great and
paramount concern. Many a word in season did
she speak to the beggar at the door : many an
exhortation and prayer accompanied her gifts in
the lonely cottage, the sick-room, the naked
garret, and the cold, comfortless cellar. Indeed,
it might be said, that numerous as were her visits
of charity, she never left the habitation of the
distressed without offering religious counsel, and
seldom without prayer. Dangerous diseases did
not deter our dear Mother from entering the
houses of the dying. Neither fever nor the
frightful cholera could daunt her firm spirit, or
make her halt in the errand of mercy. She was,
to many of the poor and the sick of Lincoln, a
true " Sister of Charity ;" and bright were the
102 A mother's poetrait.
trophies she won from among them to the cross
of her Redeemer.
But her visits were not confined to the poor.
Her consistent character made an extensive im-pression,
so that, in not a few instances, persons
of wealth, who had Mved without religion, when
seized by sickness, or cast down into great trou-ble,
sent for her, and found through her instruc-tions
the way of life. This was the case with a
large coach-manufacturer, then our landlord, who
had suddenly lost his son,—a young military
officer of great promise in India. News of the
young man's death rendered the parents very
disconsolate ; and struck such deep affliction into
the heart of the father, that he soon afterwards
sank on the bed of death. Mother was sent for
:
she improved the opportunity for Christ ; and at
future visits to the dying parent, found good
reason to hope concerning him.
But she did not always wait to be sent for,
even when the sick or troubled were of the
wealthier classes. She was not obtrusive, but
confident in her work. She went, like her Di-vine
Exemplar, to seek and save them that were
INSTANCES OF USEFULNESS. 103
lost. At some distance from her house, on the
same side, down the High street, lived an alder-man,
who, even in those days of pride among the
wearers of civic honors, was somewhat more lofty
in his bearing than the rest of his " worshipful"
brethren. He was a retired, wealthy gentleman ;
and having no child of his own, had adopted as
his heir a young relative. The youth w^as taken
seriously iU. He was known to Mother by his
having gone Avith our eldest brother to a clergy-man's
for education. Hearing of his sickness.
Mother went to the house, and asked if she could
be permitted to see him. She was introduced to
the family ; but her application was thought to
be somewhat strange. The young man, they
remarked, was ill in bed. She persevered, how-ever,
and they were soon interested with her
manners. At length, the alderman's lady con-sented
to lead her into the sick-room. She spoke
to the youth of the evil and guilt of sin, and dis-played
the wilhngness of Christ to save, till he
and all around wept. Then she prayed ; and
when she had- risen and left them, they talked
104 A mother's portrait.
of lier with wonder, and said she had spoken like
an angel from God.
I might record other instances of the good that
was wrought by her judicious courage in venturing
into families whither she had not been invited.
But it is to be remarked, that judiciousness should
be combined with such courage. Visits of this
kind should not depend only on the boldness of
the visitor; for it is most likely they wiU then
offend by what will be termed their intrusiveness.
Yet we ought to reflect that it is not really Chris-tian
to wait till we are sent for, when we know
that immortal beings are ready to perish. Our
rules of etiquette are undoubtedly false in this
respect. It will be a poor excuse for our neglect
of a perishing neighbor, to say in the great day
of account, " We were not sent for."
f dtu Hi.
"She did her numerous family command
With such a tender care, so wise a hand,
*^ She seemed no otherwise a mistress there,
Than godlike souls in human bodies are.
But when to all she had example showed,
How to be great and humble, chaste and good,
Her soul, for earth too excellent, too high,
Flew to its peers, the Princes of the sky."
POMFRET.
It might be supposed, from our dear Mother's
activity and diligence in the discharge of philan-thropic
duties, that all her zeal and care was
expended abroad, to the neglect of her own family
5*
106 A MOTHEE's PORTRAIT.
and household. But it was not so. She had,
most emphatically, her house in order. Her
business was one that required watchful govern-ment.
Those who assisted in it were considerable
in number. Yet there was no Avaiting for her, no
insubordination, no confusion. It was surprising
how aU things seemed to submit to her, and to
serve her purposes. It is said that " the winds
and waves are always on the side of the ablest
navigators ;" and she seemed to possess the power
of making all things her servants. I have often
heard it said to her, when the shop was full, the
rooms behind full, and when at the same time her
children and the persons employed were looking
up to her for direction,—and yet she would be
calm, collected, and full of energy,—"I wonder
how you can get on at all in the midst of so many
cares, and with so much depending on you." To
which she would almost invariably reply, " The
Lord is very good to me : he assists me very
graciously. He has promised, 'As thy days, so
shall thy strength be ;' and he mercifully fulfils
his word."
And this reliance on the Almighty was, in reality,
FAMILY RELIGION. 107
the secret of her strength. She consciously
lived, and moved, and had her being in God.
And though there was great force and tact in her
natural character,—for she seemed made to gov-ern,—
yet she habitually cast all her care on the
Lord, and never failed to trust in him. Above
all, she constantly cherished the spirit of prayer,
and lived in the element of devotion. It was her
habit to spend some considerable time in prayer
before she left her room in the morning. At the
noontide hour, and on retiring at night, she also
poured forth her soul in direct and private inter-cession
with her Maker. But there were other
times when she would escape away from friends
and business to enjoy communion with God. She
was a woman of might, as Avell as constancy, in
prayer. She knew what it was to wrestle and
plead with the Lord till assuredly blessed, and
then to trust him with all. Her faith was child-like
in its simplicity ; but, like one of the simple
elements of nature, it was of mighty power. And
this deep trust and fervid devotion she brought to
bear on her daily business : she did not reserve
the exercise of spiritual principles for the closet
108 A mother's poeteait.
and the sanctuary only. If the philosopher
"brought wisdom from the clouds, and made it
walk among men," then she brought religion from
heaven to act in daily life. She was an every-day
Christian; and showed herself, amidst multiplied
cares and engagements, to be strong " in the Lord
and in the power of his might." She openly illus-trated
the words of Christ : "All things are pos-sible
to him that believeth."
Her spiritual concern for her own family and
household was also very great. They were the
subjects of her daily solicitude and instruction
;
and she walked before them with a perfect heart.
I have already stated that family worship had
been estabhshed as soon as father and Mother
became earnest in rehgion. And this was per-severingly
continued. Every day as it opened saw
the entire household, consisting usually of many
persons, assembled for the reading of the word of
God and for prayer. At the dinner-hour, most
frequently a chapter of the Bible was read. In
the evening all the members of the family were
again assembled, when a hymn was sung, the
Scriptures were again read, and prayer offered.
FAMILY RELIGION. 109
Family worship was not hurried and formal^ as if
it were an unwelcome work, to be performed as
quickly as possible, and cleared out of the way.
It was fervent and impressive, and was as far
removed from negligent haste on the one hand, as
from protracted and .wearisome dulness on the
other. Mother usually .prayed in the evening;
and there was an her petitions, so. much spiritual
breathing and earliest pleading 'with God, as made
all feel that she .was no 'outer-court worshipper,
but within the , veil • and immediately, before 'the
mer.cy-seat..'; Her ;
prayers were" full and: compre-hensive,
j None of. the.'members-of the -household
could'jfeel ttheraselves ."exclu'ded. .Husband, child-renj
sister, .servant, work-women,- and '^visitors,
—
aU were cared for, and therefore presented in her
petitions. She "also -. comprised in her prayers
parish, city, nation,- the, sovereign,' JtheyChurch,
and the world; '.and ^these, !not^ iii: stereotyped
phrases, but in words expressive of thoughts that
welled up from a full .and overflowing soul of
devotion. This practice enlarged the views and
sympathies of those with whom she prayed,
taught them to feel an interest in persons beyond
110 A mother's portrait.
the liouseliolcl circle, and to seek the good of
others as well as then' own. There was much of
adoration and j^raise mingled with all her prayers,
arising from her ardent and thankful disposition.
Seraphic ardor marked all her acts of worship
;
but there was no lightness : religious rejoicing was
with her, as it is with all matured Christians, a
serious employ. A man, when he rejoices, does
not rejoice with noisy laughter like a child.
Neither were her family instructions and prayers
confined to formal morning and evening services.
There were gentle promptings to thought and
worship, such as parental love alone can dic-tate.
It was her custom frequently to speak to
her children apart, and to pray with them in her
own room. At such seasons the lambs were fed
after their own manner, as Isaiah tenderly ex-presses
it. The duties and pleasures of religion
were set forth to them ; and if there had been
any impropriety of behavior, or act of disobedi-ence,
it was pointed out. So that the young
offender had not only to meet father's reproof
and correction, but, what Avas felt still more.
Mother's private remonstrance ; and this usually
FAMILY RELIGION. Ill
followed by prayer for the erring one's repent-ance
and for Divine forgivene,ss, as well as by
heart-breaking looks of grief, and by tears. It
was also, as you will remember, my dear Sister,
our Mother's frequent practice to accompany her
younger children to their beds, and commit them
by prayer to the protection and care of their
Heavenly Father. The lovely scene of a mother's
evening worship with her infant children, so viv-idly
portrayed by Henry Alford, in his beautiful
poem entitled "A Doubt," w^as fully realized in
her abode :
—
" I know not how the right may be,
But I have shed strange tears to see,
Passing an unknown town at night,
In some warm chamber full of light,
A mother and two children fair,
Kjieeling, with lifted hands, in prayer."
Indeed, she seemed to be always praying with or
for her offspring, and seeking their salvation.
Her large maternal heart was a fountain of
prayer, constantly sending forth its streams of
earnest desire and suppHcation. I have often
heard her, as I passed by the door of her room,
pleading most earnestly with God on behalf of
112. • A mother's PORTRAIT.
her children; There could .' be . no . question as 'to
what it' was that she .desire.dtmbst Tor. them. -. ;
On the • Lord's day,; in winter^time,. .Mother
would not 'unfrequently; remain .- at home with the
younger members ofher family in the evening,
when she.would read and speak, to them of God,
of his angels, and of heaven; and would pray
and sing with them. I remember some of these
seasons which were overpowering in their tender-ness
and unearthliness. The Sabbath with her
was truly a " holy day" and a " delight ;" and
was most distinctly separated from other days
of the week in its employment. After twelve
o'clock on Saturday night, no secular business
was allowed to be done. What was not accom-plished
by that time must be left undone till
Monday morning. In a few things, perhaps,
some would regard her as too rigid : as, for in-stance,
in her not allowing any one to sweep up
the ashes on the hearth upon the day of rest.
Her fixed principle was, that nothing unnecessary
should be done on that day. And she extended
this principle to all in the house : servants and
children as well. We were not permitted, when
SABBATH-DAY SCENES. 113
young, to seek amusement on the Lord's day in
picture-books or toys : these must he put away
on the Saturday evening. There was no visiting
allowed or encouraged in it, further than the re-ception
into the family circle for the afternoon of
a young Christian' apprentice, distant from his
own home. • There was' no conversation on
worldly subjects indulged. But yet the' Sabbath
was not made: a gldoiny day : it was cheerful and
joyous in its exercises, and the delight of all. It
was, as it is, designed to be, a Christian festival.
The day Avas' usually opened with the family
singing an appropriate hymn : such as,
—
" The Lord of Sabbath let us praise,
' In concert with the blest : -• ' ' •
•
Who, joyful, in harmonious lays
Employ an endless rest."
" Sweet is the day of sacred rest
:
No mortal cares disturb my breast.
may my heart in tune be found,
Like David's harp of solemn sound!"
We were all taken to the house of God on Sab-bath
mornings, except when extreme infancy,
sickness, or very inclement weather prevented.
114 A mother's poetrait.
And ! how truly " sweet " is the clay of the
Lord, as thus spent, m its remembrances ! There
was the house of God, filled with serious, devout
worshippers, and earnest inquirers ; or, at least,
the prevalence of these was so great in number,
that the comparatively careless felt it almost im-possible
to be careless altogether, while in such
serious, devout, and earnest company. The pre-sence
of the venerable minister in the pulpit
:
the communion-table, with its surrounding foot-stool
and rail, where so many had repeatedly felt
and realized the presence of God, while there
kneeling to consecrate themselves to him, and to
commemorate their Saviour's death : the cheer-ful
fjices of the choir in the singing-seat below
the laboring poor crowding the benches, and
listening to the preacher with fixed attention
the Sunday-school children under the gallery on
the right and left, the tender soil of their young
hearts thus brousofht within reach of the seed cast
from the hand of the spiritual sower : all this
forms an indelible picture in the memory, free
from mournful regrets, and never reviewed without
pleasurable and purifying effect.
SABBATH-DAY SCENES. 115
There was no disorder ; and nothing, that I can
remember, unbecoming the public services of re-ligion.
There was not, as in some of our princi-pal
Methodist chapels, the use of the liturgy,
which, by its inspiring and solemn forms of ad-dress
before the Divine Being, secures, on all
occasions, to those who employ it with " sincerity
and truth," most profitable devotional exercise.
But there were hymns of praise, prayers, and
heartfelt confessions, reverent reading of the
Holy Scriptures ; and there were sermons, plain
in their style, forcible in appeal, comprehensive
in invitation, and accompanied by the Spirit's
unction and power. The singing in those days
was not left to the choir ; but all sang earnestly,
and with that real devotion which is the safest
guardian of both time and harmony in public
worship. The sacraments were administered
with solemn order,—not as mere rites and cere-monies,
but as SACRAMENTS wdiich Christ hath
appointed to be received by his people. In those
times, how eager was the curiosity of the young
in the congregation, when the sacrament of bap-tism
was administered to some tender infant
'116 A mothee's portrait.
presented by its believing parents for public
recognition by the Clinrcli of Christ ! and how
often tears flowed from the eyes of the matured,
during the affecting address of the minister on
the obhgation of Christian^ parents to "bring up
their children in the nurture and ' admonition of
the Lord !" And to myself;' as • doubtless to
others, how solemn were the' impressions 'relative
to the separation of. the Church from the general
congregation, , prior to the celebration of the
Lord's Supper ! when, after the departure of
the multitude, , the society-stewards went from
pew to pew," to see that each person remaining
had the accrediting ticket or note, and was duly
authorized to approach the table of the Lord.
There was little or no uncertainty then, in the
line of distinction between the Church 'and the
world ; nor was there any question whether the
Sabbath, in its services, should be hallowed and
made honorable. ' '
I do not write thus because I think that the
people of God have in such observances seriously
degenerated. Wesleyans are far more numerous
now at Lincoln, in their attendance at the more
SABBATH-DAY SCENES. 117
solemn .means' of grace, 'than tliej: were' thirty
years ago ; as, incleed,^ they are in' ahnost every
other city or' town. in the kingdom. They have
now in Lincohi more than twice as many " hearers"
and members of Society; and I have no reason to
believe that the Methodists there, or elsewhere,
are less orderly, attentive, or devout, in their
worship. But some persons have supposed—^in
ignorance of facts that they would have become
acquainted with, had they inquired—that in earlier
times Methodists were a disorderly and irreverent
people. Nay, I fear there are some prejudiced
persons who deem them deserving of no better
description now. It is not so at the present day,
as you know; and, though not forgetful of the
sunlight which ever gilds our memory of the
scenes of our youth, I can testify that in former
days also, the services of Methodism would bear
comparison with those of any section of the
general Church of Christ, for reverent and devout
performance.
My mind, however, reverts again to the Sab-bath
evenings spent at home with our dear Mother.
I well remember the family Bible open on the
118 A mother's PORTRAIT.
table, the psalms, and hymns, and prayers, and
her conversation with ns on heaven. It seemed
sometimes as if the pearl-gates of the New Jeru-salem
were opened before us, and as if we could
see the nations of the saved rejoicing in its golden
streets. The room in which we were, not unfre-quently
seemed to be full of angels, who had
descended as on Jacob's bright ladder, and with
viewless forms and noiseless wings were hovering
around, and associating with us. If religious
parents would often hold such conferences with
their children, what beneficial impressions might
be made on young and tender minds ! How much
more commendable such a practice, than reciting
foolish tales and showing ludicrous pictures to
children ! Surely, behevers should more con-stantly
remember the duty and advantage of pre-occupying
the young mind for Christ. They
should beware of waiting tiU the enemy has sown
tares in the heart, which will have to be rooted
up ; and should rather hasten to plant the seed of
the kingdom in the virgin soil. Nor is it neces-sary
to wait so long as some persons suppose,
before the mind shall be able to receive relio;ious
SABBATH-DAT SCENES. 119
leaching. In several respects, a little cliilcl is
better prepared to receive it than an adult. Great
mysteries are not understood by either : they are
simply matters of reverential faith ; and the Chris-tian
father, as well as his child, has to worship
before the greatest truths with the religion of
wonder and adoration. A Httle child has not been
rendered suspicious and unbelieving by experience
of a deceitful world ; but is guileless and confid-ing.
So much so, that the Saviour sets it forth
as the very type of undoubting trust, and of im-phcit
obedience : " Verily I say unto you, whoso-ever
shall not receive the kingdom of God as a
little child, shall in nowise enter therein." We
learn, too, that Hannah of old dedicated Samuel
in his childhood to the Lord ; and Timothy was
from his infancy instructed by his believing mother
and grandmother, " so that from a child " (a little
child) he had " known the Holy Scriptures, which
are able to make wise unto salvation."
Proofs of the efficacy of early religious care and
instruction were to be found in our Mother's young
family. Some, as in the Patriarch Jacob's house,
were wayward and rebellious, and caused her much
120 A mother's poetrait.
sorrow ; but others were goodly fruits of her pious
endeavors. The greater . 'number . of her many
children died in\ihfancy. and' childhood. And
while- young,* the deaths in our. family were so
numerous, ' and the ' circumstances rin . connection
with some so remarkable, that the living among
us could not but be deeply. ; impr.es'sed by, them.
They seemed to bring the spiritual world near, to
open and reopen it before us. Some of these cir-cumstances
were strange and inexplicable. In
another letter I will give them simply as they
were often related by our parents.
,s\^' ./
Ml 4:^'' It,
%ti\tx Hii.
" Now a thing was secretly brought to me,
And mine ear received a little thereof.
In thoughts from the visions of the night,
When deep sleep falleth upon men,
Fear came upon me, and trembling.
Which made all my bones to shake.
Then a spirit passed before my face
:
The hair of my flesh stood up :
It stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof:
An image was before mine eyes."
ELIPHAZ. JOB IV. 12-lG.
• Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth
Unseen, both when we wake, and wlien we sleep."
122 A mother's portrait.
I WOULD not, my clear Sister, assist to render
you superstitious : I only recommend to you that
degree of hesitancy on some mysterious subjects,
which I hold to be more truly philosophical than
disbelief. We ought not, I conclude, to desire to
account for all things which come under the cog-nizance
of our senses, or which are in any way
apprehended by the mind. Even with those who
attempt all this, many things remain, and must
remain, mysterious. Existence itself is a mys-tery,
even to ourselves who exist ; and of the
modes of spiritual existence we know nothing.
And undoubtedly it is a wise and good arrange-ment
on the part of our Maker, that he has left us
in ignorance of them. I cannot explain what I
am about to relate. I do not undertake to say
whether it belongs to the sensuous or the ideal.
I merely narrate it.
I have already said that the greater number of
our brothers and sisters died when very young.
With the exception of one httle brother, Abraham,
who sleeps behind the conduit in St. Mary's
Churchyard, they were all buried beside grand-father
Caborn, at St. Mark's. The first who sought
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 123
the Lord in cliildliood was your sister Anne, who
died when six years old. She was a most intelh-gent
and engaging child, such as would be readily
pronounced by the more "knowing ones" as "not
long for earth ;" and such as the poet Stanyan
Bigg must have had in view when he penned those
sweet verses of his poem " On Childhood,"
—
"All the little children loved her
—
None so joyous in their play
;
And yet ever was there something
Which seemed—ah ! so far away
From the joyance and the laughter,
And the streamlet's crisping foam
—
'T was as if some little song-bird
Had dropped down from yon blue dome,
Warbling still among the others,
WandeiTiig with them where they roam,
And yet hallowing remembrance
With low gushes about home !"
Our young sister early imbibed the spirit of
benevolence, and would frequently ask her Mother
to be allowed to accompany her in visits to the
poor and the sick. On one of these occasions,
when ascending the " Steep Hill," by the ancient
Jew's house, on the way to the upper part of the
city, after having been spoken to on the necessity
124 A mother's portrait.
of personal salvation, and on the approaching sol-emnities
of death and eternity, she suddenly began
to weep. Mother said to her, "Anne, what are
you crying for ?" The child replied, " Because I
have been so very wicked." " Very wicked !"
exclaimed her Mother, as she had hold of her
hand, and not perceiving the child's full meaning
at first : " I have thought you a good and obedient
girl to me ; and God will forgive your sins against
him, if you pray to him." " Before you I have
seemed good," rephed Anne ; " but God has seen
my heart, and known that I have been vet^t/
wicked." Mother now began to converse with her
more at lengih on the mercy of God to sinners,
and on the way of salvation by Jesus Christ.
After she returned home, she was heard praying
in her chamber for the forgiveness of her sins
;
and in a few days her young heart was lightened
of its load of condemnation and sorrow, and she
rejoiced in the assurance of being a child of God.
Soon after tliis she died.
On the Sabbath before her death, she was by
the fireside in her grandfather's kitchen, when she
suddenly exclaimed, looking and pointing towards
THE SPIRITUAL WORLD. 125
the window, " See ! there is my brother William,
like an angel with bright wings. He is smiling
upon me, and beckoning me to go to him !" She
was told that it was a mere childish fancy ; and
that she could not know her brother William if
she saw him, for he was dead before she was
born. But the child persisted in saying that it
was her brother William she saw ; and that he
waved his hand for her to go to him. Though
apparently well, and promising for life, that Sab-bath,
on the next she died; and her death was
not only peaceful but triumphant. Her father
and Mother were standing over her weeping wdiile
she was dying, when she looked up to them, and
said, " Father ! Mother ! do not weep for me. I
am going to heaven, and shall be happy there with
Jesus Christ. And when you die, I and my
brothers in heaven wiU come to meet you; and
then we shall Hve together for ever,"
When reminded that it was the Lord's day,
a day on which she had been accustomed to go
for worship to the house of God, she repeated,
from Dr. Watts's mcomparable hymns for child-ren,
and with a sweetness of look and manner
126 A mother's PORTRAIT.
that belong only to "little ones" meetened for
heaven,
—
"Lord, liow delightful 'tis to see
A whole assembly worship thee
!
At once they sing, at once they pray
:
They hear of heaven, and learn the way.
"I have been there, and still would go"
—
Here her voice failed, and her worshipping spirit
instantly passed to the joyful multitude before the
throne.
Soon after this, her brother David, her constant
companion, who was a year younger than herself,
and a fine, light-haired, cheerful boy, also died.
His death was startHng and impressive. He was
suddenly killed by the rolling upon him of the
trunk of a lai'ge tree, which had been carelessly
left without any fastening-chain or cord, near a
coachmaker's yard, and which merely rested on
another round piece of timber. It was in the
summer-time, when Mother was accustomed to
keep fruit in the cupboard for her children, to give
it to them at intervals during the day. In the
afternoon of the day. Mother said to him, " David,
come to me, and I will give you some fruit." He
FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS. 127
came, looked hastily into the cupboard, but not
being high enough to see the farther side of the
shelf on which the fruit-dish was placed, he ran
away, saying, " There is none." He went out of
the open door of the house ; and, as was quite
unusual with him, ran down the street tow^ards the
coachmaker's yard ; when, just as he reached the
spot where the tree-trunks were lying, the upper
one rolled down upon him, and crushed him
instantly to death.
All who were then at home will remember w^ell
that day : the solemn stillness of the house : the
heart-rending sorrow of our parents : the drops of
blood upon the sheet that covered poor David's
mangled body, which had been placed on a table
in the chamber. Nor have I forgotten my own
fear to go up stairs, or to sleep in the house : my
going out to a neighbor's to sleep : the terrific
dream I had of the judgment-day, and the glare
of a world on fire, wdiich burned as an oven around
me : the funeral ; and then the mill-stone sorrow,
unrelieved by tears, which bore our father down
until he could not stay up any longer from his bed,
but went silently to it, apparently to die heart-
128 A mother's portrait.
broken by this his awful bereavement, following
so soon after your sister Anne's death. Upon
that bed he lay for nearly two days, without food
or sjoeech, until, as he says, a scene most spiritual
and heavenly opened before him, in which ap-peared
his two departed children, Anne and David,
hand in hand, shining as angels, and smiling upon
him. By that s