CHAPTER IX.

SORROW TURNED INTO THANKFULNESS.

The appeal to the Synod in the case of Urr prolonged the period of suspense very painfully, but the triumph of trust in the wisdom and love of the divine dispensation is clearly exemplified in the following letter:

To Mr Duncan.

Edinburgh, November 16.- Submission is the christian's duty; the attainment of it his riches, the ornament of his character, the test of his sincerity. And if all these changes, and if many more disappointments, result in teaching this, we shall not be able to say that we could have dispensed with one. Holy, lovely heaven! change never comes thither, sin does not deface its joys, and they cannot end. When we are there, we shall be blest, and every thing should help us to prepare. Gracious Lord! who sendeth sorrows here to detach our frail hearts, and set them free to rise! O, shall we not glorify Him! Yes,-alone or united, be it the joy of our lives to show forth His praise, and to honour his commands by earnestly seeking obedient hearts.'

Such were the pious sentiments called forth by this painful stroke, and with these exalted views of the

divine will did she at once sustain her own soul, and convey comfort to the hearts of those she loved. But a new and unexpected event soon changed the current of her feelings, and converted her trustful resignation into praise. While the appeal on the case of Urr was depending, Mr Duncan had officiated for a short time in Kinross-shire, as assistant to the minister of Cleish, when that aged pastor died. The pa rishioners presented immediately, an almost unanimous petition to Mr Young, the patron, who resided in the parish, praying that Mr Duncan should be appointed successor. To this petition the patron gave his hearty concurrence, and Mr Duncan was in a few days presented to the charge. The following entry in the diary expresses in a lively manner, the becoming sentiments with which Mary received this gratifying intelligence, and affords a new illustration of her habitual piety.

'Nov. 22d.-Now the gloom is rolled away, and the bright sun of happiness appears. The buds of hope and promise become green beneath his rays— the sad heart revives and sends forth a song of joy and praise, sweeter than the song of the birds at the approach of spring. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and delight thyself in the remembrance of them. He has seen the tears that feeble nature shed in the day of disappointed hope; he has marked the dread with which coming events were anticipated, and he has with one word dispersed those fears and changed the whole aspect of things. He has, by his own hand, opened a way, and pointed W. to pursue it. He has desired him to pitch his tent beside the flock at Cleish, and may we not trust that his blessing will be with him henceforth, and that this district may be brought

into subjection to Jesus. Away, distrust. The Lord has provided. How sweet an ending to an unquiet year! Though the earthly portion connected with it be slender, yet godliness with contentment is great gain, and if I do not err, there will be much more than contentment. The 19th was the day of the presentation, and now we are doubly bound, by trial and care on one hand, and by abounding goodness on the other, to have faith in Him who leads the children every step, and even when they dash their foot against a stone, turns the pain to advantage.'

The following letter was addressed to Mr Duncan when at Ruthwell ::

'Edinburgh, Dec. 3d.-Long may your thoughts rest on your happy home with as much love for it as you feel now; and long may it flourish under the directing eye of your beloved father. Your mention of the dear departed one,* whose empty place saddens you now, drew tears from my eyes. As years roll on, we learn that we were born to die-we learn it often when those who were life and light to us are taken away; and anniversaries, marked by sorrow, thicken in the revolving seasons. But brighter in proportion should our heavenly hopes become, and with more entire affiance should we cling to the only friend who can never fail us. A few mornings since, I lay awake, and thought how sad it was that I had not my own papa to bless us both, and share our joy now. But with a vividness I cannot recal, the prospect of meeting him again, and dwelling with him where he sees the light of his Saviour's countenance, came before me, and checked the momentary wish that

* Mr Duncan's mother.

he were in this poor dark world again. Ah, what an unkind wish! Be it ours, wherever we are, to press forward, and the pearly gates shall be opened for us, and we shall be with our covenant God, and those he has taught us to love so well. * *

'I find it necessary to join trembling with my happy thoughts, for many lessons do I receive, that I know not what shall be on the morrow. Yesterday M. A. and I went among the Canongate poor, and tried to get some of our absentees to school again. One poor man I saw slowly dying of consumption at his work of shoemaking. His sickly appearance interested me a year ago, but I cannot get a word of him alone, for the small room is always filled with his family, and I cannot make out if he is ready for his awful change. O! what scenes of sorrow are in the world, when we come to find them out; and how many of them caused by sin. To-day I went to the Charity Workhouse to see the old women at work, and, if God spare me strength, I shall take a day weekly for spending an hour or two in reading and talking with them. How much strength is spent for nought, how little to the glory of Him who gave us all things; and yet awful as He is in his anger, and justly severe in his punishments, He spares the fig-tree still, and waits for the tardy fruits. Shall we not praise Him by lives of consistent holiness? O! we should live to him: and, after all, even if he had suffered the clouds to blacken and the storm to beat, we should have had cause to love him in that dark day, for we know that He who spared not his Son, can send us nothing but what is in truth a blessing, though it may come in the form of a very heavy punishment. O! pray more for me. I do feel that

all things are restless as Ocean's waves, and could not make me blest without the hope of a better life.

To her Little Sister at School.

6

Edinburgh, December 12, 1835.

'MY OWN SWEET SISTER,-It always does me good to hear about you, and, most of all, when I am led to hope that our gracious God is beginning to guide your feet into the way of peace, and to make you his humble and obedient child. He will do it, for he is full of love to our poor race, and is not willing that any should perish; and he would not have put into your heart a desire to love him, without designing to give you the requisite grace, and to teach you by the Holy Spirit. Cease to look for any thing good in yourself; for, should you live to be 100 years old, you will never find it. The corruption of our hearts lies too deep for any thing but the blood of Jesus to wash away, and O, my J. -y, does it not fill you with love and sorrow to think how willingly he shed it, and how often you have refused to wash and be clean. Your evil heart will tempt you to wait a little. But God says seek me early, "To-day if you will hear," &c. ; and you must not wait; there is no time to lose. Life is short, and should be employed in preparing for the eternity that will quickly come. Death would not wait if God sent him to you, and more than all, the good Shepherd is waiting now, and smiling kindly on you, and asking you to come that your soul may live! Oh! may he bear you in his bosom, and hide you under his wings for ever.'

To Mr Duncan.

Edinburgh, December 30.-I rejoice to hear that