the woman looked on with surprise at her guest. When he had eaten it, he looked out at the door of the house, and the storm was still blowing, and the snow increasing. He returned to the hearth, and sat down again on his seat, which was a large oldfashioned piece of furniture, like a sofa, or what the Yorkshire people call a "longsettle;" and he said to the farmer's wife, "Perhaps you would allow me to sit on this couch all night if the storm continues.' She said, "That. I cannot promise you at present; but my husband will be in soon, and I will ask him.” Her husband had gone out into the barn to milk his cows, and fodder his cattle for the night; but, as his wife said, he soon came in with his milk-cans. After putting the milk into bowls in the cellar, he came and washed himself, and put on his better clothes, and came and sat down by the fire. His wife then said, "Here is a stranger come in out of the storm for shelter, and he has been asking if he may stay and lodge with us to-night, as it is not fit for any one to travel in the snow and storm." Her husband looked at Mr. Clough, and said, "Well, you shall stay with us to-night; for I think you will do us no harm, by the look of you." Afterwards he said to Mr. C., "Will you go with me to our chapel, as we have preaching there this evening?" Mr. C. said, "O yes! I will go with you, with pleasure; but what sort of man is going to preach to-night?" The farmer said, "He is a stranger, coming from a distance, but he is what I call a milkand-water sort of preacher, if you know what that means." Mr. C. said, "I think I understand what you mean." They both went to the chapel; and, although a stormy night, the little chapel was full of people to hear the stranger that should have come; but he, as well as Mr. Clough, had been prevented by the storm and the snow. So there was a chapel full of people; but no minister to preach to them. The farmer turned round to Mr. Clough, and said, "Would you have any objection, my friend, to giving out a hymn and praying for us? We are put to the lock." Mr. C. said, "I will try and do what I can." So he went into the pulpit, gave out a hymn, and prayed; and then gave out another hymn; and when that was sung he read a text, and preached from these words: "Ye must be born again." Only a few of the people knew that Mr. Clough was not the man who was appointed to preach; but the thing doubtless was of God. The Lord blessed that preaching to the soul-profit of the people, and to one man in particular, as Mr. Clough told me.

About nine years afterwards Mr. C. was engaged to go and preach an anniversary sermon about sixty miles away from the same place; and when the service was over in the evening, a poor thin-looking woman, worn down with labour from attending to a brother of hers who had been confined on a bed of affliction for many months, said, "Will you come with me and see my brother, who is very ill?" Mr. C. went; and as soon as he entered the sick man's chamber, the poor man said, "That's the man! That's the man!" Mr. C. said, "What do you mean, my

friend?" The sick man, who had not been able during six months to turn himself in bed, raised himself up in his bed, and said, "You are the man who preached in such a village one stormy night about nine years ago; and that was the time God saved my soul." Mr. Clough and the man wept together, and rejoiced together.

"Wonders of grace to God belong."

"He must needs go through Samaria."

We must conclude this memoir with two or three letters written by Mr. Clough to Mr. Blyton, of Peterborough, a deacon of the church in that city, meeting for divine worship in Salem chapel; and one addressed to that church. They breathe out the affectionate desires of a warm and ardent spirit for the welfare of that church and the prosperity of the friend to whom the letters are written.

My very dear brother in a precious Jesus,-I have just put a few things together; if you please to read them to the friends. I feel worse every day, and the air here seems too strong for me. Yet there seems no other way as yet opened for me. I feel often very dead and dark in my soul. I have a little encouragement at times; but feel so weak and sinful that sometimes it seems impossible for me to be saved. What a great thing is salvation! How important! What trifles are all other things in comparison! I know your charge is great, and your cares multitudinous; but He is able to bear, who hath said, "Casting all your care upon Him, for he careth for you." What a blessing is this!

I trust your dear spouse is reviving. You have a most harassing life, with her affliction and other things, and yet you are a highly-favoured man. Beloved of your God, and called to be a saint, and promoted in the dear church of God to be an elder in Israel. Your devotion to the dear church of God will not go unrewarded. God is not unmindful of your work of faith and labour of love. What a blessed thing it is to act from right motives!

This is a foggy day here, and I am exhausted; but remain,
Your affectionate and afflicted brother in the dear Lord,
Siddal, July, 1877.

"THE COLLIER." My dear Friend and Brother in a precious Jesus,-I can truly say, "The Lord is good" in providence; and what I want is his love more fully shed abroad in my heart, that I might praise him. I sometimes fear I am totally out of the secret, and that the end will prove it; but blessed be a gracious God, though I cannot love him as I would, I trust I do love him, and that he loves me. I hope dear Mrs. Blyton is improving, and that the dear children are well. What cares we as parents have, for grandchildren come; and then we look forward to the day when all shall stand before God, and desire ours may be found on the right hand of the dear Lord. Ah! how little they know our anxieties about

them. Well; we can pray for them, and leave them in the dear Lord's hands.

Miss M. tells me Mr. B. -n preached an excellent sermon from the honey dropping in the wood. Certainly, an accommodated sense is sometimes allowable in the Scriptures, if analogous to truth. One man some time ago preached from the words: "A riband of blue;" but whether there is real spiritual profit or merely novelty-produced excitement must be left to the future conduct to develope. "By their fruits ye shall know them."

I am sorry to say it is too true that neither fine weather nor good nursing produces any good effect; for I get weaker and weaker, and seem to be hastening to my end. I do so much want to feel the dear Lord sealing me his, and assuring me that I am his, and he is mine; but I am full of confusion, and seldom clear about my interest in him. O how desirable is a clear evidence of interest in him where I am!

I do hope the dear Lord will guide you, and hold you up, and prosper you in body, soul, and estate, and send you ministers who will be a great blessing to the church. I do not forget you, and can indeed seek your good, and I trust you will find, notwithstanding all the opposition you meet with, that the dear Lord is with you. With those who oppose his truth and people is Satan and malice, but with you, I trust, is the living, and true, and eternal Jehovah; and what have you to fear?

I cannot say when I shall move from here. I am trying the air, to see if I get any stronger. With love to Mrs. B., the family, and all friends,

Yours affectionately in the Gospel of a precious Jesus,

9, Rose Hill, Manchester Road, Bolton, July 18th, 1878.

My very dear Brother in a precious Jesus,-I am glad to hear that the dear Lord has so graciously laid me upon the hearts of the dear friends at Peterborough. I can assure you I am in such a condition, notwithstanding I have the best of food and drink, a good airy room to sleep in, and every thing that we can call comforts, that still I am sinking. I have a terrible cough, and bring up a great quantity of phlegm. This wastes my strength; so you must get all the supplies you can for the winter, and not reckon upon me at all; for I am sure there is not the least hope that I shall be able to speak, if even my life is spared. I suffer severely from my breath, and cannot get out to chapel, even in a cab.


I am glad to hear such an account of Mr. Jackson, and hope you will be able to secure his services, and Mr. B., as much as you can. I know your mind is much exercised about the dear church at Salem, and its welfare; and my prayers join yours a throne of grace, when no eye sees us but our God, for its spiritual increase and growth. What an awful day of a wicked profession! Truly, if the dear Lord had not left us a remnant, we should have been nationally as Sodom, &c. Whatever you

do, get all the supplies you can for the winter; and the dear Lord direct you, and give you success.

I should be glad to hear of your dear spouse's improvement, and do pray she may be long spared you and the dear children, if the dear Lord will. My love to the dear friends, whom I dearly love and pray for, and hope the like favour from them. Will you kindly remember me to dear Mr. Tryon.

I remain, with love to your dear spouse and family,

Yours affectionately in Christ,

"THE COLLIER." 9, Rose Hill, Manchester Road, Bolton, Lancashire, Aug. 9, 1878.

The following is the short but affectionate address to the church: To the dear and beloved Elders and Members of the Particular Baptist Church of Jesus Christ, meeting for Divine Worship in Salem Chapel, New Road, Peterborough.

Beloved of God and of my soul,-In consequence of your kindness shown in your prayers for me, and in ministering so bountifully to my temporal necessities, I feel bound to remember you in my poor petitions, and in my affections before that dear Emmanuel that bought his dear church with his own most precious blood, and still pleads his people's cause before the throne of God."Seeing," says the apostle, "he ever liveth to make intercession for us."

What a mercy, my dear friends, that, in the midst of so much profession of Christianity, and fair show in the flesh, you are taught by the Holy Ghost to look for the power. Not that which is to the puffing up of the flesh, but that which humbles the soul into the dust, and softens the heart, and leads us more and more to loathe ourselves, and cleave by prayer and a diligent use of the means of grace, to the dear Lord. For as sure as a careless walk is induced, so surely is suffering being sown, which we as certainly reap as the dear Lord is faithful to his Son and to his Word.

I am nearly 63 years of age. The dear Lord called me when about 191 9 years of age; and you may be sure I have learned something of the deceitfulness of sin, Satan, self, and the world; and my experience is that sin is a dreadful and awful thing. It is the whisperer that separates between chief friends; the petrifier that hardens the heart; and as Hart truly says,

"All creation groans through thee,
Pregnant cause of misery."

Well, my dear, dear friends, for such you are, however desperate our case, however benumbed by this death-dealing monster, we have a blessed precious Friend, whose precious Word frees us from its damning power, and from its dominion. O what a Friend is this precious Jesus! To free us he was bound! Alas! Alas! To bless us he was cursed. To save us he was condemned, and died a malefactor's death. O precious, precious Jesus! Give thy poor people feeling hearts!

I have no doubt the dear Lord will come with the dear ministers, and bless their testimony; and I hope you will not cease to pray for them and me.

Family prayer, when you have the gift and the opportunity, should be attended to. And closet prayer is a blessed privilege when access is granted; and when not, we are to be instant in season and out of season. As Hart enjoins:

"Without cessation pray;

Your prayers shall not prove vain;
Our Joseph turns aside to weep,

But cannot long refrain."

I feel weak, and must bring this scroll to an end. And now, my dear brethren and sisters, pray for one another; love one another; bear with one another; and I do trust the dear Lord will warm your hearts with his love, and lead you to see the battle will soon be over, the journey soon ended, the voyage soon accomplished, and the haven gained, the treasure secured, and the victory won. Strange that the lame take the prey, beggars an incalculable inheritance, and poor bankrupt sinners everlasting life!

God for ever bless and increase you in all good.
Your affectionate friend,

"THE COLLIER." We here bring our memoir to a conclusion. It is well known by our friends that Mr. Clough died suddenly. He left therefore no actual death-bed testimony; but really his last months, not to say years, were a sort of lingering death; and through all his bodily weakness and sinkings the Lord sustained him, and to his faithfulness and power he thus bore witness to the last. Indeed, one of the letters we have inserted carries us very nearly to the end, and we may feel very sure that the God of his mercies did not fail or forsake his servant when that end really came.


On Dec. 2nd, 1879, aged 69, after a few days' illness, Joseph Savage, of Hailey, near Wallingford, for many years minister of the gospel. He was a member of the church at Goring Heath.

Jos. Savage was born at Ipsden, March 9th, 1810. He spent his youthful days in rather a gay manner, being fond of various amusements. Nevertheless, at times, something seemed to tell him his was a wrong course; and at length he became so solemnly convinced of his state as a sinner before God that he could see no way whereby such a sinner as he felt himself to be could possibly be saved. He then became very religious, attending church regularly, receiving the sacrament, &c. However, the lines of the poet were true of him:

"The more I strove against sin's power,

I sinned and stumbled yet the more;
Till late I heard my Saviour say,
Come hither, soul, I am the way."

The writer is not acquainted with the exact date when he was set at liberty, or the instrumentality employed; but he soon began to speak

« VorigeDoorgaan »