Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

deeds is loathsome to them, they forsake all things wherein they have put any trust or confidence-no staff to lean upon, no ease, no rest, no comfort then, but only in Jesus Christ."*

"There are, doubtless, many persons who would feel surprise at the particulars which I have related, and might even be disposed to ascribe our dear friend's distress of mind to a cause very remote from the truth. Those who know nothing of indwelling sin, whose standard is low, and whose apprehension of the law of God is far from spiritual, cannot possibly enter into the feelings of a man,

'who evil felt within,

And when he felt it, heaved a sigh,
And loathed the thought of sin.'

6

"To me it appears that our friend's dispensation was peculiarly fitted to preserve him from those feelings of self-complacency to which his extensive usefulness, and the singular honour which God had put on his ministry, would not fail to expose him. 'I never knew,' said the late Mr. R. of York, more than one person who was not injured by success.' Therefore, we may esteem every dispensation merciful, however painful, which teaches the salutary lesson, 'Let no man glory in men, but he that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord.'

"A conversation I had with Mrs. Richmond, after her husband's decease, confirmed my views on this subject. When I told her what had passed between us, she said, 'I can explain the meaning of these conflicts. I had latterly often observed beloved husband in deep thought. He seemed to be very my low and cheerless. I pressed him to unbosom his feelings, that I might share his sorrows and sympathise with him. For a long time he was unwilling to enter on the subject, and usually replied, 'nothing, love, nothing.' But at last he told me that strange thoughts had been suggested to his mind, such as had never entered it in his hours of health-thoughts of his extensive usefulness in the church of God. He said he knew them to be suggestions of Satan, but that they overwhelmed him with deep and bitter anguish. Pride, pride, hateful thing!'

"Another idea has occurred to me with respect to this trial of our dear friend. He had insisted much upon the free and full sufficiency of the dispensation of grace to meet man's extremity. His darkness and distress of mind, as well as the support he found in his own principles, seemed to me a practical illustration of the grand doctrine of the cross. It was for him

* Hooker, in his Sermon on Justification.

to prove the reality of what he taught. In Christ every thing, -out of him nothing. He became an example, as he had been God humbled his

a preacher, of the righteousness of faith. servant, magnified the riches of his own grace, and made him a pattern to us all, of the necessity and sufficiency of trust in Christ alone.

"But after all, there is much truth in John Newton's remark; 'tell me not how a man died, but how he lived.' The weakness of a dying hour, and the ravages of disease, may cloud the mind, depress the spirits, and disturb the sober exercises of the judgment. One thing, however, my dear friend, is evident; it becomes us to set our house in order,' before the approach of this trying hour. At that time we should have nothing to settle with God. It is not a season to begin to turn to Christ, when we cannot turn in our bed. May the thought be ever present to our recollection, we are only half awake.' The removal of our dear brother is a loud call to us to trim our lamps and wait for our Lord,' that when he cometh and knocketh, we may open to him immediately.

"Believe me, my dear friend, I am yours, very faithfully, though most unworthily,

Letter to Mrs. F

T. F."

after Mr. Richmond's decease.

"My dear Mrs. F- -,-You wish me to give you an account of the closing scene of my beloved parent's life. This will be attended with some difficulty; for though I was his friend as well as his child, and the endeared companion of his retired hours, and though many events and conversations, full of deep and affecting interest, are indelibly engraved on my memory, yet as I did not anticipate the mournful bereavement, and omitted to make memoranda at the time, I find now that much of the detail is irrevocably lost, and I should be afraid to write any thing which was not strictly and literally true.

"Yet the recollection of hours spent in my beloved father's study, which was indeed a hallowed sanctuary of devotion, keeps alive in my mind an abiding conviction of the reality and happiness of experimental closet religion. When I feel worldly influence stealing on me, and consequently, religious duties losing their glow of interest, I have but to think of my departed parent and of past times, and my heart is again warmed, a new energy in the spiritual life seems imparted, and thus my soul does indeed realize that the memory of the just is blessed.'

"I cannot express the veneration and love with which he

was regarded by every one of his children. With an understanding of the very first order, a mind elegantly refined and polished, and feelings of the most delicate susceptibility, he had a heart overflowing with intense affection towards each of them, which was shewn by daily and hourly attentions of the most winning nature; and they found in him not only a counsellor and instructor, but a companion and bosom friend. They clung to him, indeed, with an almost idolatrous fondness. Each of my brothers and sisters will agree with me in the sentiment of dear Wilberforce (it was one of my brother's remarks a little before he closed his eyes upon his weeping parent,) when my heart feels too cold to thank God for any thing else, it can thank him for giving me such a father.' He was the spiritual as well as the natural father of that dear boy; and I trust others of his children are thus bound to him by a tie strong and lasting as eternity itself. Surely the world does not contain a spot of more sweet and uninterrupted domestic happiness than Turvey rectory presented, before death entered that peaceful dwelling. It was ever the first wish of my beloved father, that our home should be happy; and he was never so pleased as when we were all sitting around him. Both in our childhood and youth, every innocent pleasure was resorted to, and all his varied attainments brought into exercise to instruct and amuse us. was the sun of our little system, and from him seemed to be derived the light and glow of domestic happiness. Like the disciple, whose loving spirit I have often thought my dear father's resembled, his motto was, 'little children, love one another; and he taught this more effectually by sympathy than even by precept. Religion was unfolded to us in its most attractive form. We saw that it was a happy thing to be a Christian. He was exempt from gloom and melancholy, and entered with life and cheerfulness into all our sports.

He

"But we should not have been thus happy in domestic affection, had not our beloved father so carefully trained us in the religion of Jesus Christ. This was his chief concern, his hourly endeavour. He did not talk much with us about religion; but the books, studies, and even amusements to which he directed us, shewed that God was in all his thoughts, and that his great aim was to prepare his children for heaven. Religion was practically taught in all he said and did, and recommended to us, in his lovely domestic character, more powerfully than in any other way. He had a thousand winning ways to lead our infant minds to God, and explain to us the love of the Saviour to little children. It was then our first impressions

were received; and though for a time they were obscured by youthful vanities, they were never totally erased; he lived to see them, in some instances, ripened into true conversion. It was his custom when we were very young, to pray with us alone: he used to take us by turns into his study; and memory still recalls the simple language and affecting earnestness with which he pleaded for the conversion of his child. I used to weep because he wept, though I understood and felt little of his meaning; but I saw it was all love, and thus my earliest impression was associated with the idea that it was religion which made him love us so tenderly, and that prayer was an expression of that love. I was led in this way to pray for those who were kind to me, as dear papa did.

"In conversation he did not often urge the subject of religion directly on our attention, or question us much as to our personal experience of it. He has sometimes regretted this, and called it his infirmity; but I think he adopted a more successful plan. He used to watch over us most cautiously, and express his opinion in writing: we constantly found letters left in our rooms, with directions to think and pray over them. Reproof was always conveyed in this way; and he also took the same method of questioning us on experimental religion, and of beseeching us to become more decided for God. Sometimes he required an answer; but generally his only request was, that we would 'spread his letter before the Lord, and think over it.'

"His reproofs were inexpressibly tender. He was never angry with us; but when we displeased him, he shewed it by such a sad and mournful countenance, that it touched us to the very heart, and produced more effect than any punishment could have done, for we saw that it was our dear father who suffered the most. In this way he gained such an ascendancy over our affections, that none of his children could feel happy if his smile was withdrawn, and all regarded that smile as a rich reward.

"The anniversaries of our birth-days were always seasons of festivity amongst us. We were generally awakened with his congratulations and blessing. 'He rose up early in the morning, and offered sacrifice, according to the number of them all: thus did he continually.'* I love to recall those happy and innocent days, when our dear father, even in our childish sports, was the main-spring of our joys, and the contriver of every amusement. We always found a birth-day present for us, often accompanied by an affectionate note.

* Job i, 5.

"Though my dear father was naturally playful and lively, his spirits were easily depressed; and they appeared to undergo a considerable change subsequent to the summer of 1824, the period at which Wilberforce's health began to decline: Wilberforce was most tenderly endeared to him; and there was a strong affinity in their characters. He was just beginning to unfold a very fine understanding, and his intellectual attainments were certainly superior for his age. His mind had been cultivated with much care; and the same elegance of taste and delicacy of feeling, so prominent in my father's character, seemed likewise to mark that of his cherished boy. He manifested the same inclination to the studies of natural philosophy; and when the school lessons were finished, they were constantly engaged together in these pursuits. While the other boys were at play, Wilberforce generally occupied himself in reading in the study, and trying experiments, &c. Mineralogy, in particular, was a favourite science with both; and in each instance it beguiled the hours of declining health. Papa used to amuse himself with his minerals, when all his other scientific pursuits failed to interest him and poor Willy found the same pleasure in this study; for within a few days of his death, he was searching to see how many different kind of stones might be enumerated. He had never been absent from home, but was brought up under the immediate eye of his parent, and watched with ceaseless care. He was now preparing for college, and sanguine in the hope that he might distinguish himself; and his father was looking forward with deep interest to this period.

:

"In the summer of 1824, my brother ruptured a blood-vessel, and began to spit blood. My dear father discovered great anxiety and alarm; though we did not, for a long time, know how deeply he was affected. He afterwards told mamma, that on that morning, as he looked on Wilberforce, he felt a shock, which seemed to shatter him to the very soul, and from which he never after recovered. He did, indeed, to use his own words, 'roll the troublous calamity on God,' but nature sunk under the stroke.

66

In June 1824, he took a journey to Scotland, to place Wilberforce under the care of Dr. Stewart. I was their companion in that journey, which I have a mournful pleasure in retracing.

"It was very pleasant to travel with my father, he had such an exquisite perception of the beauties of nature; and every object of interest was pointed out to us with his own elegant and devotional associations. Often has he wandered on through the

« AnteriorContinuar »