issue or that agrees with it; and may we remember in our prayer and brotherly regard, the humble and faithful labourers that God has graciously raised up, to scatter the seed of divine truth as Scripture Readers in Ireland. H. The Scripture Reader's Society is in great want of money. A Reader can be supported for £35 a year, and some for less. The Society has not funds to supply all the urgent requests that are made for Readers. The Editor will be very glad to forward any sums to Dublin, however small. ISAIAH xxxv. 10. And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. I tread the path the patriarchs trod, They walked by faith while here below; And though it seem a rugged way, I hear the notes, and catch the strain. To him my humbler tribute raise. This, as I travel on, shall be The glad employ of heart and tongue; Until on high his face I see, And join the song by angels sung. PHILIPPIANS ii. 10. JOTA. That at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things in earth, and things under the earth. Hail! blessed name, enthroned above, So in the glorious arch of light, And when the mighty angel swears IOTA. 1 Thess. 3. 12 1 Pet. 2.22 Jude 21 Ps. 107. 10, 13, 15 Heb. 10. 36 Morning. M Ps. 50. 1 Tu 2 Jer. 1. 8 F 5 Ps. 73. 28 Is. 64.9 M 8 Ps. 89. 50 Phil. 3. 8, 9 1 Tim. 1. 17 Gal. 6. 16 FOSTER, PRINTER, KIRKBY LONSDALE. THE FRIENDLY VISITOR. No. CLXXVIII.] JULY, 1833. [VOL. XV. SOME ACCOUNT OF AN OLD FARMER. It has been, I think, very truly said, that it is one of the first effects of the Gospel, when its blessings are savingly applied to the heart, to liberalize the heart. I think a man may well doubt his having received mercy, who is not ready to shew mercy. If we have really been brought to know the pardoning grace of Jesus, through which our debt of ten thousand talents has been freely cancelled, we cannot but be so filled and overwhelmed with a sense of our own happiness, as to feel mercy, and pity, and liberality running through our every desire and thought towards others. The truth of the remark is moreover well supported, I think, by Scripture. Christ clearly expects that all who truly follow him, do it with the full surrender of all that belongs to them: so that if they have money, or influence, or abilities, or health, or education, they must give up all these to his service, and employ them to his glory; doing good with them in their day and generation. And oh! all little enough in return for what Christ has done for them! Hence, in the last day, when it has to be known who are the true followers of Christ and who are not, the proofs of a faith working by love, are sought for in the works of liberality and kindness. Who amongst the professed followers of Jesus have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited the distressed? They are the blessed of God; and their works follow them; not to claim or merit heaven (the victorious Saviour has done this for them long before) but to prove the reality of that faith, that divine principle which has grafted them into him, and given them an interest in the blessings of his redemption. Hence, when we see a person professing to be a follower of Christ, and yet dead to the duties of his stewardship, and dead to the wants, spiritual and temporal, of his neighbour, (and the whole world is in Christ's view, the Christian's neighbour,) we cannot but fear that he is a self-deceiver. If we have freely received, we shall freely give. To say nothing of the awful sin of idolatry, which H is clearly in fatal exercise, where a man holds back and accumulates his money, or spends it on his own selfishness, rather than give according to his power for the good of others. There are, I fear, many cases of this sort in the Christian world. Now and then, however, we are cheered with a different picture; we see the triumph of divine grace in the most unlikely and difficult instance, and are led to exclaim in thankfulness and praise, “what hath God wrought!" One remarkable instance of this kind I had once the great privilege of seeing. It was the case of an old farmer. Mr. J. was the picture of an old English farmer. He was a tall handsome man, with marked features, wore his little brown wig, and altogether was very interesting in his outward appearance. But alas! within, he wanted every gracious ornament. He had prospered greatly in the world, had grown rich on his farm of several hundred acres, but his sun of earthly prosperity was fast setting, and all was dark, and dismal, and hopeless before him. Religion he had never cared for, beyond going, when quite convenient, to his church. He was sordid, and covetous, and selfish, like too many farmers, intent only on making a penny in every possible way, without being too nice and particular as to points of moral honesty and integrity. As an overseer he was cruel and hard-hearted: in fact the poor dreaded the very sight of him. Such was Mr. J. till he had reached the borders of this wilderness: purse-proud, overbearing, covetous, ungodly. But by the mercy of God there came to his parish church a powerful, faithful preacher of Christ's Gospel, and Mr. J. was one of the first to feel the influence of Gospel truth. it was sent home to his heart with the demonstration of the Spirit and of power; and then, what a change! I had the delight of witnessing the change. Oh! what a spirit of conviction was at work in him. There was the simplicity and gentleness of a little child. The The poor old man wept tears of sorrow and shame to think of his long misspent life: and his hard-heartedness to the poor, oh, it stung him to the very quick. And now what fruits meet for repentance did he bring forth? Where he had all through life been most wanting, he was now most bounding. My readers will, I am sure, be pleased (and oh may they be profited!) by some little anecdotes of him, which the lapse of years cannot drive from my memory. The cares and duties of his farm he now chiefly deputed to others; and nearly his whole time was spent in devising and going about doing good. Kindness and liberality to the poor were now as conspicuous, as cruelty and covetousness had been all through life. It was beautiful to see how he set his wits to work to devise kind and liberal things. He used to sally forth from his house nearly every day, on some errand of mercy, to the neighbouring town. Often and often have I met him in his walks. It was his practice to go from house to house visiting the sick and needy, and administering to their wants. Where parish relief was clearly wanted, there he was now the poor man's friend with the overseer. Where his own purse could alone be available, there it was always open to any extent the case required. Where wine and nourishing food was better than money, there it was always forthcoming. But in this exercise of charity the dear old man had his trials. His wife was as yet a stranger to the power of divine grace. She saw the change in her husband, and one would have thought could not do otherwise than rejoice in it; but no, she ridiculed and condemned: and, wedded to her covetousness, she blamed his extravagance as she deemed it, and did all she could to check his charities. Mr. J. got a wooden case made just the size of his pocket, like two round pudding basins screwed together, which he daily took to the town, well filled with bits of pudding and whatever he could lay his hands upon. He went so far as to run away once or twice with a chicken out of the larder for a poor sick woman, but his wife flew into a rage and positively prevented this. Mr. J. was not to be hindered in his work of mercy; and he in future went early into the farm yard and wrung off the neck of the chicken and took it away with him unknown to his wife. One anecdote serves to shew how divine grace can make a man the very opposite of his former self. There was an exuberance, an overflowing of love in this old man's heart. When a pauper died, Mr. J. was always on the alert. The poor of the parish were buried as cheaply as possible, and the graves were dug very shallow. This could not |