The Annals of the Poor Part 13

"And have you such a faith as you describe?"

"Oh, ma.s.sa! me tink sometimes me have no faith at all."

"Why so, William?"

"When me want to tink about Jesus Christ, my mind run about after oder tings; when me want to love him, my heart soon quite cold; when me want to believe all to be true what he says to sinners, me den tink it is not true for me; when me want to pray, de devil put bat, very bat thoughts into me; and me never tank Christ enough. Now all dis make me sometimes afraid I have no faith."

I observed a very earnest glow of attention and fellow-feeling in some countenances present, as he spoke these words I then said--

"I think, William, I can prove that you have faith, notwithstanding your fears to the contrary. Answer me a few more questions.

"Did you begin to think yourself a great sinner, and to feel the want of a Saviour, of your own self, and by your own thoughts and doings?"

"O no; it came to me when me tink noting about it, and seek noting about it."

"Who sent the good minister in America to awaken your soul by his preaching?"

"G.o.d, very certainly."

"Who then began the work of serious thought in your mind?"

"De goot G.o.d; me could not do it of myself, me sure of dat."

"Do you not think that Jesus Christ and his salvation are the one thing most needful and most desirable?"

"Oh yes, me quite sure of dat."

"Do you not believe that he is able to save you?"

"Yes, he is able to save to de uttermost."

"Do you think he is not willing to save you?"

"Me dare not say dat. He is so goot, so merciful, so kind, to say he will in no wise cast out any dat come to him."

"Do you wish, and desire, and strive to keep his commandments?"

"Yes, ma.s.sa, because me love him, and dat make me want to do as he say."

"Are you willing to suffer for his sake, if G.o.d should call you to do so?"

"Me do tink me could die for de love of him: he not tink it too much to die for wicked sinner; why should wicked sinner tink it much to die for so goot and righteous a Saviour?"

"I think and hope I may say to you, William, 'Thy faith hath made thee whole.'"

Thus ended my examination for the present. The other friends who were in the house listened with the most affectionate anxiety to all that pa.s.sed.

One of them observed, not without evident emotion--

"I see, sir, that though some men are white and some are black, true Christianity is all of one colour. My own heart has gone with this good man, every word he has spoken."

"And so has mine," gently re-echoed from every part of the room.

After some time pa.s.sed in more general conversation on the subject of the Negro's history, I said, "Let us now praise G.o.d for the rich and unspeakable gift of his grace, and sing the hymn of redeeming love--

'Now begin the heavenly theme, Sing aloud in Jesus' name,'" &c.

Which was accordingly done. Whatever might be the merit of the natural voices, it was evident there was spiritual melody in all their hearts.

The Negro was not much used to our way of singing, yet joined with great earnestness and affection, that showed how truly he felt what he uttered.

When the fifth verse was ended--

"Nothing brought him from above, Nothing but redeeming love"--

he repeated the words, almost unconscious where he was--

"No, noting, noting but redeeming love, bring him down to poor William; noting but redeeming love."

The following verses were added and sung by way of conclusion:--

See, a stranger comes to view, Though he's black, {121} he's comely too Comes to join the choirs above, Singing of redeeming love.

Welcome, Negro, welcome here, Banish doubt and banish fear; You, who Christ's salvation prove, Praise and bless redeeming love.

I concluded with some remarks on the nature of salvation by grace, exhorting all present to press forward in the heavenly journey. It was an evening the circ.u.mstances of which, had they never been recorded on earth, were yet, doubtless, registered in the book of remembrance above.

I then fixed the day for the baptism of the Negro, and so took leave of my little affectionate circle.

The moon shone bright as I returned home, and was beautifully reflected from the waters of the lake; harmony and repose characterized the scene.

I had just been uniting in the praises of the G.o.d of grace and providence; and now the G.o.d of nature demanded a fresh tribute of thanksgiving for the beauties and comforts of creation; as David sang, "When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?"

In a few days the Negro was baptized, and not long after went on a voyage with his master.

Since that time I have not been able to hear any tidings of him. Whether he yet wanders as a pilgrim in this lower world, or whether he has joined the heavenly choir in the song of "redeeming love" in glory, I know not.

This I do know, he was a monument to the Lord's praise. He bore the impression of the Saviour's image on his heart, and exhibited the marks of divine grace in his life and conversation, with singular simplicity and unfeigned sincerity.

Give to G.o.d the glory.

THE YOUNG COTTAGER.

PART I.

When a serious Christian turns his attention to the barren state of the wilderness through which he is travelling, frequently must he heave a sigh for the sins and sorrows of his fellow-mortals. The renewed heart thirsts with holy desire that the Paradise which was lost through Adam may be fully regained in Christ. But the overflowings of sin within and without, the contempt of sacred inst.i.tutions, the carelessness of soul, the pride of unbelief, the eagerness of sensual appet.i.te, the ambition for worldly greatness, and the deep-rooted enmity of the carnal heart against G.o.d: these things are as "the fiery serpents, and scorpions, and drought," which distress his soul, as he journeys through "that great and terrible wilderness."

Sometimes, like a solitary pilgrim, he weeps in secret places, and rivers of water run down his eyes, because men keep not the law of G.o.d.