In looking over my sister Anne's papers, I find mournful evidence that religious feeling had been to her but too much like what it was to Cowper; I mean, of course, in a far milder form. Without rendering her a prey to those horrors that defy concealment, it subdued her mood and bearing to a perpetual pensiveness; the pillar of a cloud glided constantly before her eyes; she ever waited at the foot of a secret Sinai, listening in her heart to the voice of a trumpet sounding long and waxing louder. Some, perhaps, would rejoice over these tokens of sincere though sorrowing piety in a deceased relative: I own, to me they seem sad, as if her whole innocent life had been passed under the martyrdom of an unconfessed physical pain: their effect, indeed, would be too distressing, were it not combated by the certain knowledge that in her last moments this tyranny of a too tender conscience was overcome; this pomp of terrors broke up, and passing away, left her dying hour unclouded. Her belief in God did not then bring to her dread, as of a stern Judge,--but hope, as in a Creator and Saviour: and no faltering hope was it, but a sure and stedfast conviction, on which, in the rude passage from Time to Eternity, she threw the weight of her human weakness, and by which she was enabled to bear what was to be borne, patiently --serenely--victoriously.
DESPONDENCY.
I have gone backward in the work;The labour has not sped;Drowsy and dark my spirit lies, Heavy and dull as lead.
How can I rouse my sinking soul From such a lethargy?
How can I break these iron chains And set my spirit free?
There have been times when I have mourned!
In anguish o'er the past, And raised my suppliant hands on high, While tears fell thick and fast;And prayed to have my sins forgiven, With such a fervent zeal, An earnest grief, a strong desire As now I cannot feel.
And I have felt so full of love, So strong in spirit then, As if my heart would never cool, Or wander back again.
And yet, alas! how many times My feet have gone astray!
How oft have I forgot my God!
How greatly fallen away!
My sins increase--my love grows cold, And Hope within me dies:
Even Faith itself is wavering now;Oh, how shall I arise?
I cannot weep, but I can pray, Then let me not despair:
Lord Jesus, save me, lest I die!
Christ, hear my humble prayer!
A PRAYER.
My God (oh, let me call Thee mine, Weak, wretched sinner though I be), My trembling soul would fain be Thine;My feeble faith still clings to Thee.
Not only for the Past I grieve, The Future fills me with dismay;Unless Thou hasten to relieve, Thy suppliant is a castaway.
I cannot say my faith is strong, I dare not hope my love is great;But strength and love to Thee belong;Oh, do not leave me desolate!
I know I owe my all to Thee;Oh, TAKE the heart I cannot give!
Do Thou my strength--my Saviour be, And MAKE me to Thy glory live.
IN MEMORY OF A HAPPY DAY IN FEBRUARY.
Blessed be Thou for all the joy My soul has felt to-day!
Oh, let its memory stay with me, And never pass away!
I was alone, for those I loved Were far away from me;The sun shone on the withered grass, The wind blew fresh and free.
Was it the smile of early spring That made my bosom glow?
'Twas sweet; but neither sun nor wind Could cheer my spirit so.
Was it some feeling of delight All vague and undefined?
No; 'twas a rapture deep and strong, Expanding in the mind.
Was it a sanguine view of life, And all its transient bliss, A hope of bright prosperity?
Oh, no! it was not this.
It was a glimpse of truth divine Unto my spirit given, Illumined by a ray of light That shone direct from heaven.
I felt there was a God on high, By whom all things were made;I saw His wisdom and His power In all his works displayed.
But most throughout the moral world, I saw his glory shine;I saw His wisdom infinite, His mercy all divine.
Deep secrets of His providence, In darkness long concealed, Unto the vision of my soul Were graciously revealed.
But while I wondered and adored His Majesty divine, I did not tremble at His power:
I felt that God was mine;I knew that my Redeemer lived;I did not fear to die;Full sure that I should rise again To immortality.
I longed to view that bliss divine, Which eye hath never seen;Like Moses, I would see His face Without the veil between.
CONFIDENCE.
Oppressed with sin and woe, A burdened heart I bear, Opposed by many a mighty foe;But I will not despair.
With this polluted heart, I dare to come to Thee, Holy and mighty as Thou art, For Thou wilt pardon me.
I feel that I am weak, And prone to every sin;But Thou who giv'st to those who seek, Wilt give me strength within.
Far as this earth may be From yonder starry skies;Remoter still am I from Thee:
Yet Thou wilt not despise.
I need not fear my foes, I deed not yield to care;I need not sink beneath my woes, For Thou wilt answer prayer.
In my Redeemer's name, I give myself to Thee;And, all unworthy as I am, My God will cherish me.
My sister Anne had to taste the cup of life as it is mixed for the class termed "Governesses."
The following are some of the thoughts that now and then solace a governess:--
LINES WRITTEN FROM HOME.
Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground, With fallen leaves so thickly strewn, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan;There is a friendly roof I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast;There is a fire whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past.
And so, though still where'er I go Cold stranger glances meet my eye;Though, when my spirit sinks in woe, Unheeded swells the unbidden sigh;Though solitude, endured too long, Bids youthful joys too soon decay, Makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, And overclouds my noon of day;When kindly thoughts that would have way Flow back, discouraged, to my breast, I know there is, though far away, A home where heart and soul may rest.
Warm hands are there, that, clasped in mine, The warmer heart will not belie;While mirth and truth, and friendship shine In smiling lip and earnest eye.