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"Oh ope your hearts! behold I stand,
The cup of healing in my hand;
Now ope the stubborn portal, strong,
Where I have knock'd, untir'd, so long."

Dear Saviour! words like these divide
The bars of unbelief and pride;

Oh enter in, and ne'er depart

Henceforth from our surrender'd heart!

MALACHI iii. 16.

"Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another."

Come, ye that fear the Lord!

Commune together of his saving grace;

When friend meets friend, O! let the welcome word
Be of the kindness of your Father's face.
Come, ye the Lord that love!

Speak ye together of his tender care;
Tell of the blessings sent you from above;
Talk of the mansions founded for you there.
Tell of the fount of light;

Tell of the city, radiant with its beams;
Tell of its gates of pearl, its jewels bright;
Tell of the crystal water's living streams.
Commune together still!

Tell ye each other of your Shepherd's love;
His soothing tenderness, his guiding skill,
And of the pasture's sweetness where ye move.
Oh be not silent yet!

Tell of the blood that Shepherd shed for you,
And of the seal upon your forehead set,

And of the robe which cover'd you anew.

How can ye silent be?

Ye whom the Lord hath bought and call'd his own;
Hath he not loos'd your tongue, and made it free
To celebrate his praise in joyful tone?

Come, brother, sister, come!

Have ye no gifts, no mercies to record?

Jesus hath touch'd your lips, which once were dumb,
To publish the salvation of the Lord.

Come, brother, sister, come!

Now press we forward to the glorious prize;
In faith now dwell we in an heavenly home,
And plume our spirit's wing from earth to rise.

ARTHUR FOSTER, PRINTER, KIRKBY LONSDALE.

C.

FRIENDLY VISITOR.

No. 283.

APRIL, 1842.

VOL. 24.

THE HAPPY STONEBREAKER.

How delightful it is, amidst the wilds of this waste howling wilderness, to meet with a dear fellow pilgrim who is journeying, by faith, to the celestial city of light and glory, that resting place of our immortal spirits, where, after we are released from this body of flesh and sin, we shall dwell in endless happiness with our adorable Redeemer. It matters not whether they are rich or poor, learned or unlearned; having been taught in the school of Christ, and received of his fulness, in whom are the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, their minds are enlightened, their capacities are enlarged, and it is their delightful theme, to dwell on the love of their crucified Saviour, whom, "having not seen, they love; in whom, seeing not, yet believing, they rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory."

A short time since, on my return from a visit to a dear friend at S, I stayed the night at the first stage, and the next morning being very inviting, I walked on till the carriage overtook me. I had not gone far, when I came up to a poor old man, leaning on two sticks, while his bended frame seemed tottering beneath its weight. I accosted him with a remark on the beauty of the morning, and said, "My dear old friend, the days of your pilgrimage are drawing to a close; what is your hope in prospect of eternity?" He raised his palsied head, and with sweet simplicity answered, All my hope is in my blessed Lord. It is what he has done and suffered that brings me sweetest peace; and if ever I reach heaven, it is only his merits that will give me entrance there." I replied, "It gives me pleasure to find your hope fixed on such a sure foundation. What a blessing it is to have Jesus for our friend! Then it matters not what our condition is in this present world: whether we are in health or in

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sickness, he is unchangeable, 'the same yesterday, today, and for ever." "Yes," he said, "that is what I love to think about. And then his precious book that tells us all about it, and the sweet promises, how full of comfort they are to poor sinners." He said he had not been so far for a long time, having been confined to his bed the greater part of the winter. How he rejoiced to feel the warm beams of the sun, and how thankful to be permitted once again to view the face of nature. But it was the bright rays of the Sun of Righteousness that gladdened his inmost soul, and made him rejoice in the prospect of that better world, "where everlasting spring abides, and never-withering flowers." But still he was neither fretful nor impatient. No-he was willing to wait his dear Lord's time, and he shrunk not from approaching decay and pain, but rather wel comed it as a means by which his Heavenly Father would draw him nearer to himself. "Oh," he said, “I have reason to be thankful for affliction; it has been indeed blessed to my soul." I observed, "How many there are who are chosen in the furnace of affliction. While in the enjoyment of health and strength, we are too forgetful of the hand that feeds, and that goodness which crowns our life with mercies; but when laid on the bed of sickness, we are in a manner withdrawn from the world, and have opportunity offered us, to consider our ways, and to return unto our God. Would that this happy result was more universally experienced! Then the language would be that of the Psalmist, ‘Before I was afflicted, I went astray; but now have I kept thy word."" Yes," he said, "I remember the time when I used to go to my work in the morning, and to my bed at night, and never bent my knees to my blessed Lord: and I wonder now how I could live in such a way so long; but, bless his dear name, when he brought my poor soul to the knowledge of himself, how I loved to think about him, and to pray to him, and his presence seemed with me wherever I was. After my illness, I was not able to work, so I was set to break stones on this road, and many happy hours have I

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spent here. I cared not how little company I had, for I could lift up my heart in prayer to Jesus, and fancy I could see him on his glorious throne. Many have passed by in their carriages, but I envied them not, as ĺ was afraid they did not enjoy my peace of mind. Once as I was sitting on a stone-heap, eating my piece of onion and bread, a gentleman and lady rode by; and being light of hearing, I heard the lady say, I am sure that poor man enjoys his piece of bread more than we do our luxuries."" He said, "I often pity rich people when I think of the temptations they are exposed to, and how they are twirled round in worldly pleasure. It is true, we poor folks fare hard, and have only the necessaries of life; but then we have little to care about, and are more at liberty to think about our neverdying souls."

Would that this were the acknowledgement of many more of England's cottagers, then we should not be grieved by the picture of discontent which is too often. shewn on the countenance while telling the doleful tale. Think not, my poor friends, that we lightly esteem your trials and privations; no, we affectionately sympathize with you, and would endeavour to lead you to Him who is able to succour all who in this transitory life are in poverty, need, sickness, or any other adversity. He, while on earth, had not where to lay his head, and was fed from day to day by the precarious bounty of those who ministered unto his necessities. His condescension and humiliating example have led the way through the lowliest paths of life, and made poverty honourable. And though you are straitened in your circumstances, and have little of this world's good, he will make up all in spiritual gifts; and though poor in this world, you may be rich in faith, and heirs of a kingdom incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away.

But to return to my poor old friend. Upon seeing I had a book, he said, "Have you any nice reading there that I could listen to a bit?" I told him I thought it not likely to suit him (being Cowper's "Task"), but I

said the person who wrote it composed many heautiful hymns about Jesus, which were not printed in the volume I held in my hand, one of which I repeated:

"There is a fountain fill'd with blood,

Drawn from Emmanuel's veins," &c.

This he seemed familiar with, and his voice echoed to every verse, accompanying it with some feeling remark, which proved him to be interested in that salvation of which it spoke. When I reached that verse, "Lord, I believe thou hast prepared," &c., he said, "That is almost too much for such a poor ignorant creature as me to hope for; but when this corruptible shall have put on incorruptfon, as our sweet burial service says, and we are raised in the image of our Lord, we cannot think what glorious creatures we shall then be. I hope to be enabled patiently to wait my appointed time; yet sometimes I do so long to reach that happy place where I shall be no more troubled with this evil heart, or tempted to sin by the adversary of my soul." His sunken eye beamed, as he spoke of the glories of heaven, and forcibly brought to mind, that piece by Edmeston, "The Heavenly Minstrel," the last verse of which is as follows:

"Then, as with visage blanch and sear,

The poor in heart we see,

Let us not think what he is now,

But what he soon will be;

And look beyond this earthly night,
To harps of gold and bowers of light."

He much regretted not having had better learning; but said he had good children and grandchildren who read good books and tracts to him, so that he ought to be very thankful; and though he could with difficulty only make out a few words, his mind was well stored with the truths of that Gospel, which maketh wise unto salvation, through faith in Christ Jesus.

Just as I was about taking my leave of him, a gentleman overtook us, who he said was his old master, for whom he had worked thirty years. Aud so we parted

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