01.08. Labours and Longings

Labours and Longings IN her diary we find this entry: "I am distressed that I have nothing to do for Christ. I seem the only useless Christian in the world."

Yet all the while she ceased not to pray for souls, and, according to her opportunities, to labour for them. All her letters (very unconsciously on her part) bear testimony to her zeal and fervour. She could not be idle. When she could not speak, she could write. When she could not write, she could give or send a tract. When she could not do even this, she could pray. In one of her letters she thus speaks:— "I am unhappy when I think that I am of no use in this world, and that all God’s children are working for Him except me. I often think I am the barren fig-tree ; and that Jesus will say, ’Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?’ I do not know yet in what way I can work for Christ; but I have laid my prayers at the foot of His cross; and I know that God will answer them in His own time and way; not for my sake, or on account of my prayers, or my earnestness; but for the sake of Him who died on that cross for such vile sinners; and I know that God, who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will with Him freely give us all things. Perhaps He may give me an opportunity of writing to some beloved one about their precious soul, and about that Saviour who is so willing that all should come to Him that they may have life; or, perhaps He may enable me to speak for Him to poor, perishing sinners here. I feel so happy at the thought of living for Jesus. I do not know what has given me such an ardent desire to be enabled to do something for Him. I wish I were a man, and then I would be a missionary!" In every direction she looked round for labour. She could not rest if she were not doing something for Him who had bought her with His blood. Wherever she went, though but for a brief sojourn, she could not be idle. When she visited Kelso, she sought a district to labour in, or some souls to watch over and pray for. Almost all her letters give proof of this. One will suffice at present:—

" Kelso, May 22, 1844…MY DARLING E____, Mr. Bonar has given me a district, and I go nearly every day to speak to the people, and to read to them, and give them tracts; and I cannot tell you what delight I have had in it; God enables me to speak to them so often, and to pray with them. Will you pray much for me that I may win at least one soul? But I want to get many more than that. I shall tell you more particularly about some of them, that you may pray specially for them. There is one old woman, very self-righteous, about whom I am very anxious; for I think God is opening her eyes to see that she has been all wrong hitherto. have sometimes such nearness to Jesus, and such sweetness when I am praying with her, that I am sure He is there, and that He is dealing with her soul. I feel it sometimes very solemn to speak to her, she is so attentive, and so desirous to hear; and the light seems to break in upon her every now and then; but she is still dark; she is not yet willing to come as an empty, sinner,and God alone can make her willing. Oh! ask that He would!

"She said yesterday, that she never had felt before as she does now, that she sees she is not right, and that she can get no rest. Oh, I am glad she can get no rest till she finds it where alone it is to be found, in Jesus, the sinner’s Friend."

"There is a sick girl, too, to whom I often speak, but I have not much pleasure in it, for she is not anxious; but God can and will bless His own Word. Pray for her also. She has a sister, a Christian, which must be a great blessing to her. There is an old woman, also, about whom I am anxious, for I don’t think she knows Jesus; but there is another, and oh! what a darling she is! a real child of God! If you only saw her face when she speaks of Jesus,—it beams! I said to her, ’Do you love Jesus?’ She said, ’I canna love Him weel enough;’ and when I spoke to her about the hymn I sent you, and said, ’I shall read you a hymn about the Pearl of greatest price,’ she replied, ’Ay, He is that!’ She seems to dwell much upon this, that it is God who must first love us , else we would never love Him. She always says, ’My love is so cold, He must draw me with the cords of love.’ In speaking of the sufferings of Jesus, she said, ’Isn’t it woesome?’ How I did long for you to come into the room beside us! I wish you were here with me; how exquisite it would be to go to the district together! I am going very soon again to see her. You must remember her, too,—this aged sister in the Lord. She can scarcely speak, she is so old and frail; but it is all the sweeter to hear her speak of Jesus with such stammering lips."

"It is a very solemn time this. There is something so strange and so new in it all, that I can hardly stand it often; and then Satan is so busy with me; but Jesus is stronger than all. It is curious how simple the way of salvation seems to me when I am speaking to others; it seems so free; there is really nothing between us and Jesus but our own unbelief; we won’t trust Him. Oh! we are great wretches!" "How grieved I shall be to leave all these souls! I think my heart will break. But there are souls in P____ as precious as those here."

"We had a lovely sermon on Sabbath, from Mr. Lang, on this verse—’I am the way, and the truth, and the life.’ It was all Jesus, and very precious it was to my soul. Jesus is the way,—not our faith, or our feelings, or our anxiety, or our deep work, or anything in us or about us, but simply Jesus; He is the way to the Father, and He alone. Oh, it is a blessed way! You and I don’t want any other way, do we, R____?" In her own neighbourhood she visited most faithfully; not needing the invitation or urgency of others, but herself eagerly planning and carrying out labours of love. In the Sabbath-school, in the cottage, on the highway, or wherever she could find or make an opportunity, she laboured joyfully and untiringly. In the month of August 1842, she and her sister devised another work, which she thus refers to in one of her letters:— "We wish to begin a little school for poor children; what we need is a little money to hire a room, and purchase a few books for them. We want to take about a dozen, and teach them to read, and tell them about Jesus." The plan here devised was vigorously carried out, in spite of many hindrances and disappointments. In October 1842, she wrote thus to me:—"I must tell you how we have come on with our school. Yesterday was the first day. R. had all the big girls, and I the little ones. We got on creditably;—how I wish you had been with us! It was so sweet when we all sang together ’The Lord’s my Shepherd,’ and then knelt down to pray that the Good Shepherd would teach us to feed His lambs. We must not rest till each child can say ’The Lord’s my Shepherd,’ I am rather ashamed of some in my class, for each day two or three of them have begun to cry to get home; and I have to send them away in a great hurry, lest the others should follow their example. I am going up to Edinburgh next week to get a few lessons at the Infant School. I find it a very difficult task to make them listen. I am rather disappointed, for I thought it would be so sweet to tell them about Jesus; but they don’t understand, poor things! Some of them are very ignorant. They seem scarcely to have heard of God at all." Many (it has been said) "only work enough to prove that they are unwilling to work." It was not so with M____. Her whole soul was in her work. She neither lingered nor trifled. Not much, indeed, lay in her power. She had no one to direct her operations, or to encourage her under disappointments. She had no one to lean upon, or to aid her. Yet she pursued her solitary path of doing what she could for souls that she saw to be so precious, and for a Master whom she loved so well.

"I have got fifteen poor families," she writes, "that I give tracts to, and R. has got twelve. You must not forget to pray for them. They are all careless, I fear; but we must go on speaking to them, and praying for them, and we have God’s promise that His word shall not return void. That promise is a precious one; and don’t you think that we should always expect that His word, spoken in faith, will be blest?" She could not rest satisfied with want of success. Her heart was set on serving Christ and saving souls. When one plan seemed to fail, she tried another; when one door was shut, she sought entrance at another. Nor could failure and disappointment dishearten her, however sorely they troubled her. Finding, for instance, that the children whom she had undertaken to teach, remained unimpressed, and were sometimes very unruly, she speaks thus with mingled faith and sadness: "It is a hard trial to our patience; but we must persevere, trusting that God will bless our otherwise vain labours. He has more to bear with from us than we shall ever have from these poor things." And then she adds: "E. and I have adopted a plan, to see if we can do them some good. We keep in one girl by herself after the rest are away, and speak with her for a little. Perhaps it may make an impression on them. We kept one of the worst to-day." In thus labouring for Christ among the young, she thus expresses her sense of responsibility in the work:—"I have been rather frightened lately, when I think how responsible we shall be for them. It is a solemn thought that such ignorant and sinful creatures as we are, should take upon us the care of so many precious souls; but I think we must trust the more entirely and unreservedly to Him who has said, ’Cast all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.’ You must ask Him to perfect His strength in our weakness, that we may be increasingly fearful of ourselves, and confiding in His strength. I never felt so weak or so sinful as I do now, when I have more to do than I have ever had. I often get discouraged, till I remember that I am but a tool in His hands, that His is all the power, and, oh! that His is all the GLORY. I like to think of that, and to know that Jesus will be glorified, though I be humbled in the very dust. One thing encourages me, and that is, that I have always had so much sweetness in praying for our success; but still I get terribly distressed when I think that perhaps, through my sin, any of them may be lost. How sweet it would be if we were to meet them all in heaven! Our districts get on pretty well; all the people listen to our poor words. One woman was affected even to tears. I like her very much. She is one of my people, and her little girl is to be one of my scholars. There is another of mine whom I should like you very much to speak to if you were here. She is an old woman, which should make us more anxious about her. O that I were taking you to see all our poor people! That would be a happy day. I often think of you at prayer-time. O that there were an altar erected to God in thishouse! The young man I wrote to you about is dead. How glad I am that Mr. Burns went to see him! They say he prayed just before he died, and then fell asleep, and died quite calmly. Oh, if he fell asleep in Jesus! There is something unspeakably sweet in the thought of falling asleep in Jesus—in the Shepherd’s arms."

Most diligently did she prepare beforehand for her work. Unlike too many Sabbath-school teachers, who seem to think that they can just go at once to their class and talk to the children, without the trouble of previous preparation, she sought most conscientiously, both by prayer and study, to fit herself for teaching her little ones. She felt that she must be fitted herself, ere she could pour out even so much as a drop upon others. She went first to God to be taught , ere she ventured to teach others the things respecting Him and His Son. She grudged no pains in qualifying herself. She prayed, she read, she wrote, she madeinquiries, she went to other schools and teachers;—all for the purpose of fitting herself for instructing her little ones.[23] We may insert here one or two specimens of her preparations. Here is one of her simple addresses:—

"My dear children, there is a beautiful verse in God’s Holy Word I should like to speak to you about, for a little. You will find it in John’s Gospel, in the eighth chapter, and at the thirty-seventh verse:—’Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out.’ It is Jesus, God’s dear Son, and the Saviour of poor sinners, who speaks, and He is telling you, and every one, that if any sinner on earth, even a very little child, comes to Him to be saved, He will in no wise (that is, not on any account) cast them out. I want to shew you, dear children, from the many sweet stories in the Bible, that Jesus is true to His word, and that He never has, and never will, cast out any who come to Him; and oh! as you read about those, some of them children like yourselves, who have sought and found Jesus, pray to that kind Saviour that He would make you also willing to come to Him, and if you go, you are assured He will not cast you out."

Here again is a hymn which she wrote for them in the end of 1844:— [24] NEW YEAR’S HYMN "With rapid pace another year Has gone into the past;
Eternity will soon be here; Time will not always last. And this new year we now behold, Will just as quickly fly;
Our life is like a tale that’s told; The youngest soon must die.

Then let us not too fondly cleave To any earthly joy,
The dearest ties we ever have, Death will at last destroy.

Let Jesus all our portion be; He never will remove;
None satisfies the soul but He; How precious is His love!

Dear children, seek the Lamb of God— "The Life—the Truth—the Way;" He’ll wash you in His precious blood; Oh, do not stay away!

He bids you come, for, hear His voice, " My son, give me thine heart;"
Oh, may you make the happiest choice, And choose the better part! This year will be a happy one,
If Jesus is your friend;
And when your years on earth are done, Your joys will have no end.

Then Jesus face to face you’ll view, And join the saints above,
Who sing the song that’s always new— Praise to redeeming love. In reference to her labours of love, it may be as well to introduce here some extracts from a special journal which she kept:—

"November 12, 1845.—Journal of my district.

I have determined, by the grace of God helping me, to keep a regular journal of the precious souls in my district, that I may notice how the work of the Lord is prospering in it; and O that, each time I go near them, I may go, feeling my own utter weakness, and he strong only in the Lord, and with a vivid sense of the awful state of those who are without Christ! also believing the love of Jesus to their souls, and His great desire to save them, and His ability and willingness to do them good, even through me, who am so unworthy."

"Had great desires in prayer this morning that I might have an open door to many; and the Lord graciously answered my prayers, for I was enabled to speak a word from God to several. O for the Spirit to bless His own truth!"

"Spoke in particular to one woman, Mrs. C____, with great earnestness. Spoke about the conflict. She seemed to feel she had not known anything of this, so that I was enabled to press upon her this mark of a Christian, the two natures warring together. She has been under a gospel ministry, and knows a good deal (head knowledge!), but said she knew that there must he more than that. Spoke to her next about the love of Jesus, and the joy she would give to all heaven if she turned to Him. She seemed quite melted, and wept a good deal. O for the Spirit to shew her Jesus! I yearned over that soul, and must never lose sight of her now, nor rest till she has come to Christ."

" November 27.—Mr. George Hay came down to have a meeting here. He visited several of our people, and then collected them in Mrs. C.’s room, and addressed them. Only a few came, however, but their souls are precious, and if even one be brought to Jesus by means of this dear servant of His, our meeting will not have been in vain. He spoke about the throne of grace and the throne of judgment, Hebrews 4:16, and Revelation 20:11. He said it was at the throne of grace that we got the passport to pass from the throne of judgment to the throne of glory. The people were very attentive. O that the great day may shew much from this day’s labours, and that even here we may see many turning to Jesus in this barren place!"

" Dec. 9.—Gave thirty tracts to-day. O for a blessing on them! Felt very dull and lifeless in giving them. Lord, shew me how sinful this is! Spoke a few words to Mrs. H____ again, who said she felt comforted by our conversation last time, and wished to see me again. To God be all the glory. Spoke to ____ and her old mother. Alas! they seem quite careless. I wonder what fruit of these feeble efforts I shall see in glory!"

"Dec. 13.—Gave twenty-one tracts to-day. Spoke again to Mrs. C. She got a little angry; but I was not sorry, as it shews that the truth has touched her conscience. O for the lifegiving Spirit to open her blind eyes! Went to Mrs. P. She gets on well. She and Mrs. S____ are the only two I have any comfort in."[25]

" Dec. 17.—Mrs. P____ called last night, to say that her husband wanted to see me ; so I went down to-day, and had a long talk with him. He seems wavering between the world and God. O that he would choose the better part! This is a very interesting case."

"Jan. 3, 1846.—Attended the monthly tract meeting, the first of this year. May this be a fruitful year, wherein many souls shall be brought to Jesus; and may a double portion of the blessed Spirit be given to His own children! And may we who are tract-distributors know ourselves the Saviour of whom these tracts speak; and may we never rest satisfied till we have every soul in our districts brought into the fold of the Good Shepherd!"

" Monday, 5th.—Spoke to Mrs. ____, who says she is not satisfied with her state. I am glad of it, if she is not yet ’born again.’ Find it very difficult to speak to her. How ignorant I am! It makes me very sad to go to my district and see so few caring for Jesus and His great salvation; and then, as a natural consequence of this carelessness, what misery there is amongst these poor people! O for the love of Jesus, the tears of Jesus, that I might yearn and weep over these poor wandering sheep! have no conversions yet to record. Lord, why is this? Perhaps I am seeking my own glory: perhaps I am wishing that souls might be converted because it is my district. O for a single eye and a single desire for the glory of Jesus! Give me this, Lord!"

" Tuesday, 13th.—Gave the rest of my tracts. In the morning, at prayer, had the most earnest longings and yearnings after the souls in my district I think I ever had. Wept almost in agony over them, and felt as if it were a burden too heavy for me to bear. Pleaded with God that nothing could be done for them unless He did it."

" March 12.—Gave twenty-six tracts to-day. O for an outpouring of the blessed Spirit on my own dead, careless soul, and also on these poor souls in my district! I am anxious to form a ’maternal meeting’ amongst the mothers in my district. These meetings have been much blest in other places, and why not here? Mrs. P.’s house would be a nice place to meet in. Mrs. H., Mrs. C., and another with whom I had a talk to-day, would probably join; and though they do not care about their own souls, yet, in seeking the souls of their children, they may be led to think of their own. Spoke very solemnly to Mrs. ____. She does not seem at all anxious. Alas! what a state to be in, and how many in this place are in this state!—on the brink of hell, and not anxious about their condition! May the Spirit arouse them, for He alone can."

" March 26.—Had a little encouragement in my district to-day. Went to Mrs. P., who said that her husband, after telling her about some business being settled, said—’But I have better news than that to tell you! Miss ____ has been here, and spoke to me about my soul, and my heart just seemed to burn within me, and (she has almost got me to turn.) O that he would be not almost, but altogether persuaded to turn to God! I am very hopeful about that soul. It was very encouraging to think that he feels that the good done to his soul is better news than the settling of his worldly concerns, especially when he mustbe anxious about these, as they are so gloomy at present. But we must tell him to press on; he is not safe till he is inthe Ark."

"September 23.—Have been ill, and therefore not able to give my tracts so regularly. O that I could see more fruits of all my labours here, poor and unworthy as my efforts are! E. and I are seriously thinking of going abroad as missionary teachers. May the Lord guide us in this great matter! Had a conversation to-day with Mrs. H____. I do think she is inquiring the way to Zion. P____ goes on well; but I am not satisfied as to his being really ’born again,’ and without that, nothing will do—’Ye must be born again.’"

Another way in which she laboured for Christ was by trying to bring friends into contact with those from whom some blessing might be expected. By inducing them to read some quickening book, or listen to some faithful minister, or converse with some pious friend, she hoped to win them to the Lord. And no opportunity did she let slip of thus serving Christ. Instances of this will be found elsewhere. Here is one in a letter dated July 27, 1843:—"This will be delivered to you by ____, a friend of mine, whom I am very anxious to introduce to you, in the hope that you may be able to speak to her about her soul, during her stay in Kelso— dear Kelso. I trust that her visit there may be as much blest to her as it was to me. I am very anxious about her, and her dear little boy who is with her; and I will make no apology for writing to you about them, as I know that you will not be grieved to have another soul to speak to about Christ."

Very frequently did she write to myself and others about those whom she loved, entreating that prayer might be made on their behalf, or asking advice respecting them. As a specimen, the following is given, written a few months after her conversion:—

"P____, December 4, 1841.—MY DEAR MR. BONAR, You will be astonished to get another letter from me so soon; but I shall make no apologies for troubling you again, as I know that what I now write about will, from its importance, plead my apology. You perhaps remember a young friend of ours that we often talked to you about: I. C____. She has been here today, in much distress about her father, who has had a stroke of palsy. The doctor says he may die in a moment, and I____ is, as you will believe, very anxious that he should be roused to a concern about his soul. You may perhaps wonder that we trouble you about everything; but we have really no one to give us any advice, and we know you are willing to help us. I said to I____ that I would write to you about her father, for she says that he has read your sermon about Christ subduing the soul to Himself, and he seemed to like it…From what she says, he seems to be only a very little anxious, and is trying to get peace from his own endeavours. She says that, if you have time enough, you would perhaps write something for him that would alarm him out of this fearful sleep, and then we would pray that it might be blest to him. Oh! when I think of the immense value of even one human soul, I get quite alarmed at the cold way I am writing to you…Pray for him and for his daughter, that she may be enabled to speak to him. Do you think, when you answer this, that you could give her some advice as to what she should say to him, and what books she should read to him? It would be very delightful if you and the many Christian friends you have would join in prayer for him, that he may be brought to Christ. I wonder that we are not more anxious about the souls of others. Does it sometimes overwhelm you when you reflect for a moment on the immense value of a soul? I wish you would pray much for me, that my icy heart may be melted into love for souls; for I have many precious ones to pray for…Tell me, when you write, if you remember my beloved brother, R____, who is at Hudson’s Bay. I long to know if you pray for him…I wish I could tell you that ____ — had found peace ; but she is still in much darkness…I think everybody is in earnest but myself. I wish you would say something that would rouse me out of this dead state. Do not spare me. I want my pride and self-love killed. May Jesus fill your own soul with the peace that passeth all understanding. I pray every night and morning for you, that God would make you very happy, and that you may be the means of bringing many souls to Christ. Always pray this prayer for me, that I may love souls."

Here is another instance, in a letter to her friend:—

"Dec. 29, 1843.—MY BELOVED FRIEND,—I sit down to finish this letter;
may the Lord enable me to write! I have been asking that He would give me a message to your soul. I hope you will get a blessing in the reading of our chapter to-day. I want you especially to remember dear ____ in your prayers, for ____ has been writing to him about his soul, and he sent an answer this morning so full of the pride of intellect; ah! he does not know yet that he must ’become a fool, that he may be wise!’ Perhaps you will think this a very bold step of ____, but I do think she was right; what does it signify what he thinks of us if he is brought to Christ? I was reading the first of John, where it speaks of Andrew telling his brother Peter that he had found the Messiah; and it is added, ’ And he brought him to Jesus.’ Why may not we bring one to the same loving Saviour, who is as willing to receive him as He was to receive Peter? I have written also to ____, so you must be sure to pray for a blessing upon these feeble efforts, my beloved J____. I spoke to ____ that night when I was so happy ; I felt such a longing to bring her to Christ, that I thought my heart would break if I did not speak: it was long before I could, but I prayed for strength; and I spoke at last, and asked her if she loved Jesus, and if she was ’born again.’ She could not be angry, for she saw I spoke in love; but she seemed very much annoyed, and I left her, and went to pray for her. What a blessed refuge the throne is! E. and I are both feeling just now the necessity of being entirely God’s, of forgetting our own ease, and everything about ourselves, and seeking to live to God’s glory. I feel that I am only half a Christian. I try to remember your wants, particularly as you ask that your languor and deadness may be removed. I oftengroan under that; it is very painful; but still ’we have not an High Priest who cannot be touched with a feeling of our infirmities.’ Oh! if we could only believe the love of Jesus! I don’t think any of His children have any right idea of the love that fills His heart. O to have it ’shed abroad,’ to have it filling our whole souls, and transforming us into His own holy image! Oh! if I could only believe that Jesus loves me! Do you think He does? Just say yes;—it is awful unbelief to doubt it; but still I long to hear Him say that He loves even me. I was telling Him this morning that I did not want to see my love to Him, but only His to me; it seems to be all I need, and all I want to have— His love ’shed abroad in my heart.’ May you be filled with it, beloved one! I must finish this letter afterwards, as it is nearly three, and I must read our chapter with you. May the Spirit breathe upon it! Did I not tell you about M. C____ ? She was an old schoolfellow of mine, as careless as myself, and about a year ago, when she came to live in Edinburgh, I went to see her sometimes; but I felt unwilling to go, for I could not speak to her as I used to do. Well, one day ____ told me that M. had been made one of Christ’s sheep, and that she told them that she had been keeping away from me on the very same account! Was it not curious that each of us thought the other did not care? Little did we think how happy we should be to meet. She is a very dear girl, and a staunch Christian. " From the moment that her eyes were opened, she saw the danger of those who are still out of Christ. Her love of friends did not lead her to think or speak smooth things respecting their spiritual condition. "It often startles me," she once wrote to me, "to think how few of all those I know are Christians." She saw that they were unconverted, and she knew that if they remained so, they must be lost. She did not try to persuade herself that perhaps they were Christians after all; and that perhaps theymight be right and she wrong. She felt that if the Bible were true, she was right, and they totally astray. She did not say, They are older than I am ; they think themselves Christians; others think them Christians; what right have I to think otherwise? She did not say, They are my friends, my kindred, my dear ones; is it not cruel in me to form harsh judgments respecting them, or to allow such a thought to enter my mind, as that they are on the way to death? No. She looked at God’s Word, and she read, that "if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature" (2 Corinthians 5:17). How could she doubt that, however dear to her, they must be lost if not made new? And how could she believe them to be "renewed in the spirit of their minds," when she saw no fruits of holiness, no love to Christ, no forsaking of the world, no delight in prayer or the Word of God? She could not be mistaken. These dear ones of hers— dearer now than ever—were still far from God; and to blind herself to their sad condition, was only to increase their peril, by throwing away the opportunity of attempting to save them. She dared not say that conversion meant less than God said it meant; nor that sin was a less evil than God said it was; nor that the world was a less enemy than God declared it to be; nor that the certainty of a Christless soul being lost was not so absolute as God had proclaimed it. Not daring to say these things, she saw that her part was to set herself in good earnest to win the souls of these erring ones, by faithfully warning them of their danger, and pointing them to the same cross where she had found shelter. The most refined cruelty of which she could be guilty, would be to make them believe that there was little difference between herself and them, and that possibly their danger might not be so great as some in their sternness supposed. She resolved to be faithful, though she might be called proud and presumptuous. Souls were precious, time was short, life was speeding away; she must be faithful to their souls. And the Lord blessed her faithfulness. No doubt she suffered for it. She was spoken of as unkind, and stern, and proud; but she did not turn aside. Her eye was single. Her views of eternity were vivid. Her love to the unsaved was intense. Her consciousness of the joy of being "in Christ," and her estimate of the misery as well as danger of those who are out of Him, made her thus fervently long for the salvation of all whom she loved. It was one of the most marked features of her piety. She could not walk in light, and leave others, uncared for and un-prayed for, to go on in darkness. The more she learned to rejoice in Christ, the more did she mourn over those who knew nothing of this joy.

Thus she writes, chiding herself for indifference in this thing:—’’I had great sorrow this morning, amounting to agony, by finding that I have so little love for souls, so little desire that they may be saved, and that they may have the blessedness I have had, in knowing Jesus. I could hardly bear to think that I did not love souls, especially those precious ones who ought to be so dear to me. How vile this shews me to be! And this makes it worse, that I should not desire that Jesus should be glorified by their conversion. I wonder why I have not more of the mind of Christ about this yet."

Again: "Felt great joy and much earnestness in pleading for ____. It was the same yesterday. I can hardly stop praying for him. Surely God intends good to his precious soul. He cannot have given me those desires, without meaning to satisfy them. They are the ’unutterable groanings’ of his own Spirit. O for more faith! I feel as if God were willing to grant me all my requests, if I could only believe that He would. I try to look at His almighty power and wondrous love, in place of dwelling upon the greatness of the thing I ask for, the conversion of a soul that has long resisted all the drawings of His Spirit. I like to think of this precious Scripture,—’Is there anything too hard for the Lord?’ That is a wonderfully sweet verse to me just now, when Satan and my own unbelieving heart try to persuade me that his heart is too hard to be melted. No, mine is harder; and praise be to Him, for He has melted mine. Oh! I wish I could tell ____ how much God loves him, and wishes him to be saved, and how happy he would be if he were God’s child. I must seek for opportunities of speaking to him. I must watch unto prayer."

Again: "Had some earnestness in pleading for my beloved ____. I felt more than ever I did that it is God, not I, who is anxious that he should be saved. Oh, no, there is no good desire in my cold, selfish heart. To God be all the glory."

Again: "Had another wrestling time at prayer for my beloved ____. E. and I had a meeting together. Felt drawn again to plead. When will our prayers be answered?"

Again: "Got a bitter disappointment to-day. I had been visiting a girl of fifteen, in the prison, and was very anxious to get her into some institution when she came out, and was engaged the whole day in trying (and at last succeeding) to get a ticket for her admission into the Shelter, when she refused to go! I tried for more than an hour to induce her, but all in vain. How terribly I felt it! It was very humbling to me. It shews me, however, that God alone can turn the human heart; and oh, if He has touched mine, I need never despair of any." In a letter she thus speaks: "I think at times my heart will break altogether, when I look at my beloved ____, and think I can do nothing for him. May God help me! for this is the sorest trial I have ever had…Blessed Jesus! He cannotbe unkind; He cannot err! What sweet rest that thought gives!"

"Prayed this morning (June 10, 1843) that I might have love to souls. O that this prayer were answered! I feel it very painful to have such a selfish heart, with no love to any soul but my own, and no right love to my own either." In another place she thus briefly but lovingly records the conversion of a friend:—" Nov. 7.—Had a very sweet letter from M.C. She is now a pilgrim on the road to Zion!" In regard to another friend, over whose soul she yearned, she thus speaks:—"Wrote a long letter to dear V____, beseeching her to come to Jesus. O that the blessed Spirit would open her eyes to see her need of a Saviour!" And again: "I long to tell ____ how lovely Jesus is; but I am so fearful and so unbelieving. O for a bold yet loving spirit! May Jesus himself give me grace to speak…I have spoken. I told her I had found a treasure in Christ, and asked her if she too had found Him! But, alas! she seemed very much annoyed by my speaking to her, and said she had the Bible to tell her about these things. I must not despair, but pray that even this feeble effort may be blessed to her soul."

"Jan. 8, 1844.—Read Mr. Hamilton’s tract, The Prison Opened, and had a very sweet taste of the sweetness of the love of Jesus, in reading it. Prayed earnestly for dear ____. I long for her to taste the sweetness of His love."

" May 11,1844.—Wrote to M____ about the hiding-place! May she find it. Had a meeting with my beloved J. at five. Felt dead, but thirsty; and, oh! very sinful. I should like to get my heart cleaned out. Alone a little after tea. Had much sweetness in pleading for my darling R. May the Lord himself bless her, and be her everlasting portion!"

" 20th May.—Wrote to ____. May the Lord give the letter His blessing! Again at my district. Great desires for Lizzy, and much liberty in speaking to her, and praying with her. Spoke to several others."

"2lst.— Went to my district. Spoke again very solemnly to Lizzy. She says she feels differently from what she did; that she sees she is not right, and that she can get no rest. May the Lord open her eyes to see a free Saviour."

"A letter from dear R.M.G. has been brought to Jesus. Another soul brought to Jesus!"

"Went to visit Mr. Hay’s grave. Alas! it was a sad visit. I think this has been one of the saddest days I ever passed. We spoke a few words to a man there, an infidel. O that the Holy Spirit would send home the Word to that soul! We shall know in eternity, if not here." In a letter she thus expresses herself:—"I pray for you as earnestly as my heart of stone will allow. I like to tell God to bless you, to pour out His Spirit upon you; to bless you in every respect, in yourself, your dearly-loved self, in your dear family, in your scholars, in every way. O that He may answer all my prayers for you! I know He will. His name is Love…How is dear ____ getting on? Tell her, with my kindest love, that I had great delight in pleading for her, last Wednesday, at four o’clock." At another time she writes:—"I saw my dear R. yesterday, and was delighted to hear that you had written to her. I think she would not be so doubting if she were not so much with poor ____; but they always speak together about themselves, instead of speaking about Jesus ; and then they get into doubt and darkness. Dear ____, I cannot tell how my heart sometimes rejoices when I think of her being a follower of the Lamb, and that we shall be with Jesus in heaven together. And you, my dear J____, you will be there also…Will you pray for me, that I may have an opportunity of speaking a word to dear ____ ? for he is a great burden on my mind just now; for I think I should speak to him when I am here; and yet I have never been able ; and I think it is because I am not willing. Oh! it is grievous that I always consider myself instead of those I love…Will you also remember dear V____? Tell me about Mrs. 0____ when you write. Is she really anxious? How blessed it would be! I should like very much to write to her, but I am so totally unfit ; still I don’t feel easy till I have done so."

"E____ tells me that Mrs. ____ is anxious; how glad we ought to be! She says I should write; which I should like to do; but what could I say? But then God would give me words. I am glad you wrote to dear ____; poor thing, she is in a sad state. It is curious, I could not speak to her now about believing; she seems to me to be taking Mr. ____’s way, and making herself more humble first. I wish she had peace; and I do think we need not wait, if Jesus is willing to receive us. Write to dear K. when you can, for she has not much peace either. L____ is anxious; but only a little, I think. Pray for her ; and write her a rousing letter when you have time. I wish I could get a word spoken to dear ____ and ____; I get alarmed when I think that I know their danger, and don’t warn them. But I find it so difficult to realise their danger. Do you feel that? Pray that I may be enabled to speak, if it be for God’s glory ; and that I may be shewn when to speak. I wish ____ would write to you. I don’t know what to think of her. She is anxious at times, and then it wears off. She puzzles herself about being born again. I don’t think she can have come to Christ yet, from all she says. It is very difficult to deal with her, for when she is anxious, she says, ’Well, but what more can I do but read and pray? ’"

"Jan. 3, 1842.—What a solemn day the last of the year was to me! ____ and I were sitting alone in the drawing-room, just as the clock struck twelve, and another year commenced its silent course.[26] I could not resist saying a few words to him, and I asked him if he was born again. We did not speak much, for I was so agitated that I could scarcely speak. He laid his head upon mine, and I saw the tears falling fast. He said it was a serious question, and seemed to think it would take a long time to answer I said,—’Suppose God does not give you a long time to settle it?" I have written to him, telling him more of what I wanted to say; but, somehow, I have not courage to give it to him. Pray that God would bless it. I hope you will soon write to dear ____. She says she will be delighted to hear from you, all about yourself and all her friends in Kelso, but that, for anything else, she has her Bible to go to. I tell you this that you may know how she feels, and act as you think best. It might do harm to force the subject of religion upon her; it is very difficult to know how to act; but God will guide you, and then you cannot go wrong. I am going to ____ on Wednesday. Will you plead that I may have an opportunity of speaking to my dear ____, and also to ____? for she is often a great burden on my mind. I wish you would tell Mr. B. and Mrs. H. her case, and ask them to pray for her."[27] In August 1842, Mr. M’Cheyne, Mr. Gumming, Mr. Somerville, and myself, visited Newcastle for the purpose of preaching the gospel. That visit was not un-blest. Souls were saved, and Christians were aroused. In it M____ took a deep interest, and in reference to it she thus writes: "I long to hear more about your visit to Newcastle. I hope many poor wanderers have been brought to the fold. It must be very delightful to be enabled to go and tell sinners of Jesus. I have been praying that you might win many souls ; that Jesus would teach you to speak, and incline many to listen to His message of love and mercy. I wish I had more of the spirit of prayer. It is so sweet to plead for others. I hope you remember poor P____. We need your prayers." And is it not thus that ministers are blest? Is it not from the closet of the obscure believer, of whom they may never have heard, that the cry goes up which is to draw down the freshening rain? Do ministers sufficiently urge this upon their people? Do the people rightly discern their awful responsibility in this thing! "Thousands and thousands of prayers were put up for me," says Whitefield; and was this not as much the secret of his success, as his own prayerfulness and spiritual fervour? Moses may marshal the host, and Joshua may lead on the array; but there must be Aaron and Hur upon the hill. Intercession for ministers must be more fervent and real. "Brethren, pray for us!" We need your intercessions. We expect them. We charge you, by all that you owe to us, to yourselves, to the Church, to the world—not to withhold or restrain them.

Such were the ways in which the new life came forth. The warm zeal, the tender pity, the decided action, the faithful love, the bold energy, were not of man, but of God. She did not work in order to get the credit of working, nor from any bustling activity of nature, nor because led by the example of others. Her zeal sprung from a holier and diviner root. The same Holy Spirit that had drawn her out of the world, wrought in her to compassionate and to plead for that world, out of which she had been drawn. In all her labours she acted as if from irresistible impulses within. It was not a question of duty with her; it was a matter of simple necessity. She could not do otherwise. The mother does not weep over the coffin of her first-born because she ought to do so. She cannot help it. The brother does not shield the sister in the hour of danger because it is his duty. He cannot but do it. So was it with M____. In regard to the unsaved around her, the question of duty never came up at all. Why? Not because she was not alive to the call of duty when it came; but because the strength of the new nature carried her far beyond it. It was not so much conscience as compassion that quickened her. Love hurried her on. She spoke, and wrote, and laboured, and prayed, because love would not let her do otherwise. God owned her love, and gave her souls for its reward. And so is it always. The most bustling works of duty may be barren; but the activities of love are vital. They bear fruit for eternity.