Nor dim my eyes with gathered dust, How far from home? How far from home? I hear thy voice, my home is near! LOOKING TO JESUS. If sorrow's hour has come to thee, When thou hast told the last "farewell," And floods of grief thy bosom swell, Oh, sufferer! then thy Saviour see, Remember Him who wept for thee! In languid hours and painful days, When weary nature sinks opprest, ARTHUR FOSTER, PRINTER, KIRKBY LONSDALE. FRIENDLY VISITOR. No. 276. SEPTEMBER, 1841. OLD WIDOW W. VOL. 23. "I was requested," says a lady, "the other day to buy some fruit of old Widow W. She lives alone, and has a small garden, but she is too old to take it to market. I had heard of this woman before; and when she brought her basket of currants, and I saw how beautifully clean and sweet tempered she looked, my heart seemed to love her and believe what I had always understood, that she knew the Lord, and lived in his fear." "Thank you, madam, for taking my fruit; turned of eighty, I can get no further to sell them." I replied, "How well they are picked, and also very ripe." "Yes, I would not sell one that was not, if I knew it. I take great care in selling, that every bunch should be worth the money received. I would not wrong a fellow-creature, not of one bunch of currants, if I knew it. I sell as in God's presence, and I feel he gave these to me for my good; and shall I use them wrongfully to make gain?" "You live by yourself, do you not?" "Yes, not a fellow-creature with me." "Quite alone, at your age?" She paused a moment. "No, never alone; my best Friend abides with me.' "" "Surely then you have good company?" "Yes, indeed, I don't know a lonely feeling; all his works speak to me every day. I have, thank my God, a neat cottage and little garden. My children are very good, and do not let me ever know want; that is, I have every necessary. A very little supplies my need -a very little flour each week keeps me fed--and this, and comfortable clothes my God sends me; so that I pay my rent, and get all I desire besides; and then I need no other companion than I have in my Lord. He speaks with me every day, and they are never long. I go to bed, summer weather, as the daylight K goes, and I sit up conversing oftentimes above half an hour in bed, before I lie down, with this adorable Saviour. Oh! he supplies all friendship, and I feel his presence; and then when nature is weary, and I feel sleepy, I say, 'Will it be thy will, my heavenly Lord, to grant me a little rest and sleep to-night; shall I rest myself, and close my eyes by thy holy permission ?' Then I lie down in peace, and get either sleep or rest, but generally my Father bestows quiet sleep upon me, and when I wake my Saviour feeds me again through the day. Thus, madam, you see I am never alone." "Then you are very happy, my friend, serving not the great or busy world." "No, indeed; I have passed through much of its cares; I have twelve children living, good and kind to me according to their ability, and at fourscore I have only quiet waiting upon my God left me; and happy I am, and full of sweet company. I have been a widow several years, but have needed nothing. I have wanted nothing unreasonable, I hope, and so I can say, 'Every want is supplied."" Oh! let the anxious, care-worn heart, visit this peaceful cottage, and say, "Are mines of gold to be compared to this widow's wealth? or any peace they have obtained from worldly friendship, equal to that which fills her happy heart, and which spreads such a sweet light and peace over her countenance, that it is delightful to see her? Wearied and fatigued mother, with your many necessary duties and daily calls from your young children around you, be patient! this aged sister brought up twelve children, and that both she and her husband did in the fear of the Lord! And see, her end is peace, for she tells me, "I wait in quiet and certain hope; my Master, my Lord Jesus Christ, keeps near, and fills me with peace, and all I need, while I wait here below." AN AGED CHRISTIAN. An aged Christian, under great trial, made these remarks as we stood by her bedside: "I have many things the world would call trials, but 'tis often they don't seem so to me. While they make me long more for heaven, they are my happiness. Sometimes they tie me down to earth; then they are my sorrow; this makes them real afflictions. Had it pleased God to spare my sight, surely I might have passed my time in work, or reading, but it is all for the best. Perhaps, then I should not have longed so much for my release. To be sure, I feel the cold through my thin clothes; I have no money to buy better, but my Lord does all things right. Once I had money, once I had my sight, and now all is gone; and yet it is better with me, for I had not the sight I have now." Thus would this dear old saint lie, and reflect aloud more than converse. She had done well in younger days, being good market gardeners; but now her husband was dead, her children were gone from her, (the few whom she did not bury young,) and she lived with a little girl just to wait upon her, who, the neighbours said, often ran away, and left her for hours. It was late in life before she appeared to come fully to the knowledge of a Saviour. This often made her weep and say, "I did feel it very often; and at the funeral of my babies, my heart seemed to long to be ready for death, but alas! alas! But thank God, when all was gone but himself, sight and all, I began to see." "Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven," we often heard her repeating, for she did not know of our presence till we spoke, and then we could hear her words alone with God. "He must reign; yes, he must reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet," she kept repeating one day. "Who has been reading that text to you, Mrs. L. ?" we asked. "Oh! no one. I've had it on my heart years, ever since my babies were buried. It's in the chapter, and I've felt it years, but not so as now.' She had been a very sensible, clever woman, and had often expressed herself much above the station in which she had moved. We never heard her complain. Her mind seemed too much occupied in seeking after more spiritual information while we stayed than any thing else. "I fear your young servant leaves you too long alone," we said. "I get very hungry sometimes, but the time is so short here. Is not my Bible near you? Let me hear of the good Shepherd to-day." She was a striking proof that the presence of God can comfort the soul, when it has very little of what this world calls good. It is now many years since she fell asleep in Jesus, nor has she ever looked back upon our world, and thought her trials too hard, or her time of waiting too long. THE LAST DAYS OF DOCTOR WATTS. As his day of life was eminently useful, so his setting sun was remarkable, serene and calm. He saw his approaching end with a mind perfectly composed. How have I known him recite, with a self-application, these words, "Ye have need of patience, that after ye have done the will of God, ye may receive the promise." I have heard him, upon leaving the family to retire, declare with the sweetest composure, that if his Master were to say to him, he had no more work to do, he would be glad to be dismissed that night. When he was almost worn out by his infirmities, he observed, that he remembered an aged minister used to say, that the most learned and knowing Christians, when they come to die, have only the same plain promises of the Gospel for their support, as the common and unlearned; "and so (said he) I find it. They are the plain promises of the Gospel which are my support, and I bless God they are plain promises, which do not require much labour or pains to understand them; for I can do nothing now but look into my Bible for some promise to support me, and live upon that." When he found his spirit tending to impatience, and ready to |