COLUMBIA LIBRARIES OFFSITE AVERY FINE ARTS RESTRICTED AR01 407740 \ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2013 http://archive.org/details/walksofusefulnesOOprio WALKS OF USEFULNESS. OR, EEMINiSCENCES OF 31RS. BIARGARET PRIOR. "Lovely was the death of her whose life was love." " They that be wise, shall shine as the brightness of the firma- ment, and they that turn many to rii^hteousness, as the stars for ever and ever." — Dan. xii. 3. FIF TH EDITION. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY THE AM. F. M. R. SOCIETY, BRICK CHURCH CHAPEL, 36 PARK ROW. 1844. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1843, By Mrs. Sarah R. Ingraham. in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of tlie United States, for the Southern District of New York". BTEREOTYFED BY REDFIELD AND SAVAGE, 13 CHAMDEas STREET, N. Y. TO THE AMERICAN FEMALE MORAL REFORM SOCIETY. Ladies — A special request from several of your num- ber has encouraged me to compile this little vol- ume, and I consider it my duty to the deceased, to dedicate it to the society in whose service the last few years of her valuable life were spent. I am aware that your object in desiring its publica- tion, is simply that it may do good ; and if this object shall be gained, the labor bestowed in pre- paring it will be abundantly rewarded. Whatever avails shall arise from its sale, you will please devote sacredly to the cause of benevolence. Your friend and fellow-laborer, S. R. Ingraham. PREFACE. The following pages embrace a brief sketch of the character and labors of a mother in Israel, whose Christian course was a standing testimony of the power of faith. Her example is commend- ed to the careful attention of the reader, with the ardent desire that it may be followed, as she fol- lowed Christ. This devoted woman moved but in the common walks of life, and possessed no extraordinary facilities for doing good, beyond the reach of most Christians whose hearts are set upon similar objects. She had received only a plain education in her youth, but was a close ob- server of men and things ; possessed an unfailing fund of good sense, a deep knowledge of human nature and the depravity of the unsanctified heart, and a rich Christian experience. The peculiar trait in her religious character was, simple faith in the word of God. Wherever she could find a ** Thus saith the Lord," her soul anchored upon it, and rested as a child upon the arm of its parent. She believed God. In that belief she found all lier wants more than supplied. Religion was her life. Her soul was habitually filled with peace and love, and often uttered praises, exalting and 1* 6 PREFACE. magnifying the name of the Lord ; yet she ever felt that she had no fund in store for future use, but must " live hy the moment^'' " looking to Je- sus." This was the secret of her extraordinary usefulness. During the last five years of her life she was supposed to have been instrumental in the conversion of more than one hundred souls. An accurate account of all her deeds of charity, would probably more than fill a folio volume. A few only among the many are here briefly narra- ted. In collecting the following statistics, so much more offered, that the question, how much shall be inserted and how much omitted? has been a source of some solicitude. Particularly was this the case in relation to the journal kept between the years 1837 and 1842. A large por- tion of this is omitted, not because it lacked in- terest, but to avoid swelling the volume to a larger size than was at first intended. We are aware that the " Letters from friends" contani testimony somewhat similar in kind, and that, to the eye of the critic, there may be a seeming impropriety in devoting so much space to this portion of the me- moir. It will be found, however, that each writer has stated some things, not named by others, suf- ficient to form an agreeable variety; and that, as a whole — like the records in the gospels — they tend to corroborate the general statements through out the work. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Early life.— Marriage —Death of children.— Death of hus- band. — Profession of religion. — Removal to New- York — Second marriage.— Conversion. — Religious experi- ence. — Benevolent efforts to aid the poor during I8lb-'19. 11 CHAPTER II. Domestic character. — Instances of self-denial. — Residence at Bowery Hill. — WrJks of usefulness. — Organizes and sustains a school for poor children. — Mind exercised in behalf of destitute orphans. — Adopts a sick infant from the Orphan Asylum. — Consequent trials. — Early conver- sion and death of the child. — Adopts another motherless infant. • . 18 CHAPTER III. Testimony of her class-leader. — Incidents related by Hen- ry . — Method adopted in convincing him of sin. — La- bors for an impenitent family, all of whom were subse- quently converted. — Interest in the Temperance cause. — Trial because members of the church dealt in alco- hol. — Leaves her class for some months. — Conflict with temptations. — Rich experience. .... 28 CHAPTER IV. Death of Mr. Prior. — Bereavement deeply felt.— Change of circumstances.— Origin of the question, Can not something be done to stay the tide of vice in our city?" — Believing prayer. — Knowledge of the condition and wants of the young. — Beginning and end of the career of vice. — Organization of the A. F. M. R. Society. — Be- comes one of its board of managers. — Motive. — Sym- pathy for the wretched. — Interest in relation to the half orphan asylum. — Employed by the A. F. M. R. Society as a city missionary 36 8 CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. Letters— from Mrs. M. A. Hawkins.— Mrs. P. Hunt. — Mrs. R. Beatty. — Anonymous.— Mrs. M. Dye. — Mrs. M. I. Hubbard.— Mrs. J. A. D. .—Mrs. P. McDowall. — Miss Julia A. Reed.— Mrs. S. T. Martyn. . . 45 CHAPTER VI. Case of a dying wife who had sold her soul. — Two young women saved from suicide. — Interview with a family of Jews. — Deserted wife. — Admonitions in a quilting room. — Hopeful convertion of a young lady. — Conversion of a Catholic. — The end of an actress. — Conversion of an aged sinner. — A rich poor disciple. — Life threatened. — Poor family relieved.— De])lorable case of intemperance. — Happy death.— The dying infidel.— Wife of Lawyer F . — ni-gotten gain.— Providential incident. — Suffer. ings of the poor relieved 87 CHAPTER VII. General results of personal effort. — Specific cases. — Inter- view with a Romanist. — Farther particulars with re- gard to Lawyer F .—Painful case of illness ia a dis- reputable house. — Backs-lider reclaimed. — The aged blind woman. — Lunatic restored. — Doath of a woman who had been benefited by Mrs. Prior's labors. — Result of Faimy Wright's lectures. — Conversion of a wine mer- chant.— A daughter hopefully converted, and family awakened. — Affecting history and death of an orphan. — Alliance of vice and misery.— Rough treatment. — Minister's daughter found in a house of infamy. — Mrs. Prior made prisoner. — Visit at the hou«;e of an infidel. — Hopeful conversion. — Young man from home. . 116 CHAPTER VIII. T>eath of Mr. F. — Visit at asylum for aged and indigent females. — Parental faithfulness rewarded.— Wife of the infidel converted. — Christ rejected. — The neglected child. — Dying faith.- Home of the profligate. — Deserted wife. — Orphan sisters. — Visit to straw factories. — Salvation of an orphan through means of the Advocate. — Inter- view witn a convicted sinner 150 CONTENTS. 9 CHAPTER IX. ^ond interview with Mrs. — —.—Painful case. — The Good Samaritan. — Visit at Bellevue, — Conversation blessed to a mother.— Encouraging facts. — Case of a lost daughter. — Another do. — Interview with female atheists. — A death-bed scene — Visit at the city prison. — Good effect of right instruction. — Farther account of EUen . — Case of conversion, — Family assisted. 1#8 CHAPTER X. Conversion of a mother and her son. — A scene to make the heart ache. — Strength of vicious habits.— Efforts for an afflicted family. — Guilt betrayed. — Pniyer meet- ing for mothers.— A ruined daughter.— Second interview with the family of an infidel. — Sanctified affliction. — En- ■ treaties of a child. — Pleasing result, — Example of Christian fortitude. — Care for the .stranger. . . 197 CHAPTER XI. Consequences of backsliding, — Child saved. — Prison scenes.— Intemperate families visited. — Beggar children getting warm in the sun. — Case of suicide. — Instances of hopeful conversion.— Influence of novel reading. — Wayward chDd.— Affecting case. — Sick youth. . 215 CHAPTER XII. Visit at Sing Sing prison. — Inhuman father, — Colored or« phan asylum. — An honest hour. — Visit in the country,— interview with a French lady. — Inebriate reclaimed. — xvepentance delayed.— Family of Canadians. — Death without hope. — The Sunday scholar who loved liis bible. — The aged saint who abode on Pisgah. — 'The sick-boy and his little friend. — Conversion of Mrs. R. — The German Sabbath school — The coffin warehouse. — Faith- fulness rewarded 237 CHAPTER XIII. "Sister's kind word." — Faith exemplified. — Visit at the hospital. — The living lost. — Farther allusion to Sunday scholar. — The motlier of little James. — Effects of tight lacing. — An interesting case, — The state-prison 10 CONTENTS. convict. — The poor Mind girl. — A scene in prison. — Blasted hopes. — A sad picture reversed. — Pleasing re- sult of missionary labor on Long Island — The infidel converted. — The drunkard's death-bed. — Temperance jubilee .266 CHAPTER XIV. The blind made to see. — Happiness found in religion.— Child convicted, and taught the way to be saved by the poor blind girl whom she led to 'church.— A painful case. — The aunt who took no mterest in moral reform. — The orphan assisted.— The aged mother.— The wid- ow's son reclaimed.— Living upon the will of the Lord. • . 289 CHAPTER XV. Remarks.— Shades of natural character.— Anti-sectarian spirit.— Love of music— Favorite hymn.— Manner of rebuking sin.— Effect of witnessing scenes of sorrow and guilt.— Last day of active personal effort.— Special baptism of the Spirit.— Illness.— Submission.— Gratitude for mercies.— Views of heaven.— Interest in the cause of moral purity.— Faithfulness to the impenitent.— Prep- aration to depart.— Interview with a fellow-laborcr.— Wishes with regard to her funeral.— Last conversation. —Death.— Singular appearance of the body.— Funeral deferred.— Services.— Concluding remarks.— Lines su''- gested by a review of her life. ... " WALKS OF USEFULNESS, OR REMINISCENCES OF MRS. MARGARET PRIOR. CHAPTER I. Early life.— Marriage. — Death of children. — Death of husband. — Profession of religion. — Removal to New- York. — Second marriage. — Conversion. — Religious experience. — Benevolent efforts to aid the poor during 1S18-'19. Mrs. Margaret Prior, the subject of this memoir, was born in the year 1773, in Fredericks- burgh, Virginia. She was the daughter of Mr. William Barrett, a respectable farmer of that place. Both her parents were professors of reli- gion. Her mother was removed by death when she was but a child, and a stepmother supplied her place. She was taught at an early age to be industrious and frugal, and to rely upon herself. Though siu-roimded by the blessings of home and friends, she soon learned that vicissitudes are the common lot ; and therefore, to provide against emergencies, should they ever come, she acquired a trade, by which, with ordinary health, she could 12 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. obtain an independent livelihood. At the age of sixteen she was married to Mr. William Allen then a linen merchant of Baltimore, and subse quently commander of a merchant vessel. She resided in Baltimore several years, during whicli time she became the mother of several children all of whom, with one exception, died in their in fancy. When her only surviving child was about a year and a half old, her husband's vessel was wrecked, and he was lost at sea. These repeated strokes were deeply felt ; but no record is left of her particular state of mind while smarting under such sore bereavements. It appears, however, that sometime previous to Mr. Allen's death, when at the age of twenty-seven, her mind became im- pressed with the importance of religion, and she was led to make a public profession, by uniting with the Baptist church, of which she remained a member in good standing for several years. Short- ly after the death of Mr. Allen, she removed to New York, where she could have the society and counsel of an elder sister, who resided in the city. In the year 1814, some six years after the death of her first husband, she was married to Mr. Wil- liam Prior, a gentleman connected with the soci- ety of Friends, and somewhat distinguished foi his benevolence and public spirit. She was again happily united to one who had secured her best affections ; and notwithstanding her heart had often WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 13 been made desolate, yet as the sacred endear- ments of domestic life again smiled around her, she found herself ready to cling with renewed ar- dor to these lent blessings. Her disposition was naturally sprightly, amiable, and affectionate ; con- sequently she found a high degree of enjoyment in all the social relations. During the latter part of the year 1815, she began to apprehend that there was something in the religion of the gospel with which she was yet unacquainted. She had long been connected with the visible church, and her theory had been in the main correct ; but her heart had not felt the power of saving faith. The Bible, instead of being read, and studied, and be- lieved, as w-e read the communications of a friend and benefactor, had been read as a mere matter of duty ; while the idea of communion with God, through the daily and prayerful study of his word, and the teachings of his Spirit, had no place in her darkened mind. She was conscious of a degree of conformity to the world, and espe- cially of a love of dress, incompatible with her theory of Christian practice. At length she came to the conclusion that religion was all, or it was nothing, and that thus far she had been self-de- ceived — had worn a mere garb of profession, that would be of little worth when her soul should stand undressed before its Maker. While in this state of mind, an invitation was !?ivcn her to attend a 14 WALKS OF US I- FULNESS. Methodist church, that was separated from her residence only by an adjoining yard. Having im- bibed strong prejudices against the Methodists, the request was refused ; but her own church being at some distance, she was induced one sabbath morn- ing to select a place beneath a shade-tree, in her yard, where she could hear unperceived. During the service the truth came home with new power, and made an impression that led her to feel that she must hear it there again ; and the next time she was induced to go within the door, a.nd re- main, a most attentive hearer. It was not long before she placed herself, in deep anguish of spir- it, at the altar, among those who were inquiring what they should do to be saved. Her gay attire contrasted so strongly with the plainness and sim- plicity around her, that she attracted special no- tice — and her exercises of mind soon awakened a deep interest in her case. Her eye was directed to the Cross ; she beheld the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the world as slain for her, as having loved and given himself for her ; and the view was so clear, that it filled her soul with peace, and she went her way rejoicing. From this time onward it may be truly said, her path became " as the shining light, shining more and more, unto the perfect day." Her conflicts with temptation were frequent and often protracted ; but she was habitually enabled WALKS OF USKFULNESS. 15 to exclaim in the result, " Thanks be unto God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." Whenever a question of duty seemed doubtful, even in little things, her mind was deep- ly exercised, and she could not rest till she felt that the will of the Lord was clear. The study of the Bible became a source of such enjoyment that it was, literally, more than her meat and drink. For more than a year it was her con- stant practice to read it upon her knees, in her closet, many times a day and often at night, some- times getting up after all in her house were fast asleep, and stealing away where she could be alone with her Bible and her God. Often on such occasions, while " in prayer her soul drew near the Lord," her lips were tuned to praise, and she could adopt the language of the poet — " The more Ihy glories strike my sight, The lower still I Ue ; Thus while I sink my joys arise, Immeasurably high." Religion was now found to be a glorious reality, making her happy in God, " all the day long." Her views of her own great imworthiness and en- tire dependance, and of the nature and desert of sin, were such as are often imparted to the be- liever when Jesus is revealed to the soul, through the Word and the Spirit ; and she soon attained such habitual deadness to the world, heavenly- mindedness, and entire consecration to the service 16 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. of Christ, that she was eminently prepared to be a living witness of the power of faith. Dnring the year 1819 she united with the Methodist Episcopal Church, and remained a beloved mem- ber of that communion till her death. The reasons ihe gave for uniting with this people were, that hero appeared to be more Christian simplicity, -md a vicher daily experience of the love of Christ among its members, at that time, than elsewhere. From this date onward, Mrs. Prior was ever ac- tively engaged in the cause of benevolence. Soon after the New York Orphan Asylum was instituted she became one of its board of managers, was also a stated visiter at the house of refuge ; and many of the inmates of both these institutions will, doubtlesc-, remember her faithful counsel and earnest prayers both in this world and another. She was in the habit of visiting the asylum on the holydays, and distributing baskets of presents to the children. She said they were deprived of their parents, and had no friends to bestow the little gifts that other children expect on such oc- casions ; and the privilege of conferring such fa- vors was a source of quite as much enjoyment to her as to them. During the winter of 1818 and '19, the weather was uncommonly severe, and no public fund was provided in the city for supplying the necessities of the poor. She had visited much among the WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 17 destitute of the ninth ward, and in order to extend some relief to them, she made an arrangement with a benevolent lady who lived next door to her residence, to prepare soup three times a week, and gave notice that they might come for it at stated times. All who applied were visited per- sonally, and, if found deserving, received tickets permitting them to come again. The necessary ingredients were given by Mr. Prior and others who favored the object ; no pains were spared to make it a palatable beverage, and during the two winters over seven hundred gallons were distributed among the sick and suffering ; and many were probably thus kept from actual starva- tion. These, and similar deeds of mercy, tend- ed to enlarge her heart ; while she watered others she was watered also herself, and felt continually the truth of the assertion, " It is more blessed to give than to receive." 2* 18 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. CHAPTER II. Domestic character.— Instances of self-denial.— Residence at Bowery Hill.— Walks of usefulness.— Organizes and sustains a schoolforpoor children.— Mind exercised in behalf of des- titute orphans.- Adopted a sick infant from the Orphan Asy- lum.— Consequent trials.— Early conversion and death of the child. — Adopts another motherless infant. Departed Saint ! how lovely was thy life 1 How fine the symmetry that sweetly graced Thy character in every varied shade. Thou hadst a woman's heart— a woman's love, In woman's best estate— redeemed by grace. A mother's pity for those not thy own Waked tender >:hords- chords ever timed to love Such friends as thou, the poor too often find • Like angels' visits, few and far between.' Lest the reader should suppose, from the past or subsequent chapters, that the beloved su1)ject of this memoir was led by her interest for others to neglect the duties of home, it may be proper to state, that the united testimony of her family, and of all who knew her, would prove the reverse of this. She was remarkably devoted to her hus- band — regarded his comfort and his temporal in- terests with unremitting care ; and few know or practise better " the art of making home happy,'* or more highly appreciate duty in this respect, than did this humble, self-denying Christian. Often have we heard her remark, when speaking of the WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 19 indiscretion and remissness of many who sustain the responsible relation of " wife," " A wise wo- man buildeth up her house, but a foolish one pulleth it down." She possessed a singular com- prehensiveness of mind, a judgment and practical wisdom of the highest order, and a remarkable quickness and delicacy of feeling, that led her to discern the right almost intuitively ; and her ex- ample in all the domestic relations was ever in accordance with her perceptions of right. She was an early riser. In her household arrange- ments, the rule was strictly observed, " A place for everything, and everything in its place." No visiter at her house ever saw anything like confu- sion, or want of neatness, in drawers, closets, or wardrobe. System and order were also manifest in all the daily routine that came under her direc- tion. She kept an account of whatever was brought in, and graduated her family expenses on a scale of economy that enabled her daily to save something for the poor. As an instance of this, — her husband allowed a dollar per week, to hire assistance in washing. If at any time she fell short of the amount she wished to give to a special object, in- stead of hiring aid, she would go into the wash- room herself, and with the help of the domestic, have everything done and put away before her husbJ-nd returned from his store at evening, give 20 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. her dollar to the charitable purpose, and he know not that she had even wet her hands. It may be said, perhaps, there was no necessity for this, as Mr. Prior was benevolent, and ever ready to aid her charitable projects. True, it was not needful; but then this was her way of doing the thing, and she felt that the personal effort was made a bles- sing to herself, of greater value than the sum saved by it. During most of the time intervening between 1819 and 1828 her residence was on Bowery hill, in the upper part of the city. As this was a period of more than ordinary interest in the history of her eventful life, it may gratify the reader to be introduced to her little domicil, that he may give " a local habitation and a name" to the spot of earth where this beloved disciple for a time " Held converse with the skies, And filled her urn where those pure waters rise." The site of ground embracing her residence was on a small elevation, overlooking a portion of the city, and the two beautiful rivers by which it is bounded on either side. Her house was large and commodious, surrounded by a pleasant yard and wide garden, filled with a choice collection of flowers and shrubbery, and environed with fruit and shade trees. A row of poplars and horse- chestnut overshadowed the walk that led from the yard to the street ; and thus, though in the midst WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 21 of a great city, she was not shut out from the beau ties of nature on a small scale, and her love of the works of God was so ardent, that her heart frequently overflowed with gratitude for what her eyes beheld. Mrs. M , a beloved Christian sister, with whom she often took sweet counsel, and walked, or rode, to the house of God in com- pany, occupied a similar situation, a few rods from her dwelling ; and to her we are indebted for most of the statements contained in this chapter. Mrs. M asserts, that in her visits of mercy during these years, they walked together at least one hundred miles ; that among those visited, Mrs. P. would select individuals, and sometimes destitute mothers and children, and support them in some cases for months together, till they were placed in a situation to sustain themselves. In 1822, after visiting in the neighborhood around her, and learning its moral wants, she established a school for the children of the poor, hired a teacher, and visited it weekly for conversation and prayer.* In order that tiiis laudable enterprise might be con- tinued, several Christian friends to whom she ap- plied, contributed pecuniary aid from time to time. After the death of her seventh child, her mind was much exercised about becoming a mother to the motherless. She carried the matter once and again to the mercy-seat, and at length resolved, * Mrs. Prior contributed personally $100 per annum to sm* tnin this school. 22 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. with her husband's consent, to adopt an orphan child that they cou^d love and cherish as their own. After some consultation the arrangement was made to select such a child from the orphan asylum. Mrs. Prior accordingly went to the institution and communicated her intention. She passed from room to room, observing some with whose looks she was pleased, but fixing upon none. As she entered the nursery, the first object that attracted her attention was a little infant lying in its nurse's arms, wan and wasted with sickness. It moaned piteously as she approached it, and reached its tiny arms toward her as if it would have said, " Do take me." The suggestion at once came to her mind, " There's no charity in taking a healthy, pret- ty child, but there would be in taking a sick one." She said had an audible voice from Heaven whis- pered this in her ear, she would not have felt more strongly impressed that if an act of charity was designed, duty called her to choose this child in preference to any other. It was but a few months old, by some accident had received a se- vere injury of the spine, and had been sick almost from its birth. She learned that its motlier was a Christian, and with her dying breath had resigned it to the keeping of her covenant God — apparently in the strongest exercise of faith. Mrs. Prior was troubled in spirit, for she had sought counsel of the Lord in this mattter, and now felt that his WALKS OF USEFULNESS. will was manifest — but she was not ready for the sacrifice. She went home in silence with a load at her heart, purposing to state the case to her husband, and thinking if he objected, as she ex- pected he would, it might relieve her from further sense of responsibility. Mr. Prior listened patient- ly to the matter, but gave no decided opinion for more than a week. During this time her exercise of mind was such, that she was made fully wil- ling to encounter any self-denial required, in case her husband gave his free consent. She had made a renewed consecration of all her powers to her blessed Master, for any service he might ap- point ; and his love had been again revealed to her as an ocean without bottom or shore. She felt that the wide arm of mercy was spread out, en- folding a world in its embrace, and that her high- est honor and happiness would be, to have her will and affections sweetly mingling and com- mingling in this ocean of love, and appropriated only to uses of benevolence — such benevolence, in kind, as moved the heart of the Son of God, while fulfilling his embassy to earth. One sabbath after a season of silent meditation, Mr. P. came in and said to her very pleasantly, Margaret, thee can take that child, if thee pleases." The question was thus settled, and poor Adeline — for that was her name — found foster parents, who, as far as possible, supplied 24 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. what few cliildren who have once lost it ever know — " A mother's love, — a father's care." Owing to the injury alhided to, the child retain- ed the helplessness of infancy till over three years old, and could neither sit nor stand. It was ascertained that her back, instead of being badly injured was broken; her sufferings were often in- tense, and the skill of physicians failed to impart relief. She was nursed with maternal tenderness by day and night, but the labor of taking care of her was truly arduous, requiring a degree of forti- tude and unwearied patience, that even parents are seldom called to exercise. Mrs. Prior regard- ed this as a special dispensation of Providence for the trial of her faith ; and it proved a school in which she was taught many salutary lessons. She found occasionally that there was still muth in her naturally high and independent spirit that needed to be subdued and moulded, so that in all circumstances it might be patient and Christ-like. The adversary often assailed her in such a man- ner that when she had been broken of her rest at night, or obliged to perform repeated tiresome offices for the child by day, she was so strongly tempted to impatience, that the perspiration would stand in drops upon her face, while her heart was lifted in ejaculatory supplication for grace to help. When thus employed, with poor Adeline in her WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 25 anns, she would frequently repeat aloud the words of inspiration, " Let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing ;" and, to her surprise, the first words her little charge attempted to utter, were lisped in broken accents — " Et patence hab it perfet wut, at 'e may pe perfet an tire, wan tin notin." When the little sufferer was between three and four years old, as Mrs. Prior sat ruminating one day upon the care and toil that had been so long bestowed upon her, and the inefhcacy of all known means of relief, her mind was directed to the Great Physician, and the thought suddenly occurred to her that a kind of stay might be prepared that would give support to the slender, broken body, and perhaps relieve her. She immediately went to a chest of linen, tore some strong cloth into strips, and bandaged the chest and limbs. From this time the child gained strength and was soon able to sit alone, and afterward to stand and walk. Her disposition became amiable, docile, and very affectionate, and this, with her peculiar suffering, entwined her more and more closely around the maternal heart that had endured so much on her behalf. She improved rapidly, and soon evinced an understanding of religious truth remarkable for one of her years. When between ten and eleven years old, it was manifest that her back and chest were growin^^ 26 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. together in such a manner that life could not long be preserved. For sometime previous to this de- velopment, she had been regarded as one of " the lambs" that Jesus had "gathered with his arm,'' and folded to his bosom : and the evidence of ear- ly piety in her case was so marked, that none who knew her doubted its being genuine. She met death with a smile, and went down to the dark valley rejoicing in her Savior, fully expecting soon to sing his praises among that company of little children, whose hosannas mingle in the music of the heavenly choir. " Short pain, short grief, frail child, were thine ; Now, joys eternal and divine." When this painfully pleasing scene had closed, Mrs. Prior was led to rejoice greatly in the Lord, that he had permitted her to be instrumental in polishing a gem to sparkle for ever in her Re- deemer's crown. From this time till she went to join her in glory, she seemed to cherish the im- pression, that her loved Adeline was made a min- istering spirit to watch around her path, and be- side her bed, and that sleeping or waking, she was often near. Previous to Adeline's death, Mrs. P. had adopt- ed another infant, whose mother had died when it was but five days old. Though at that time over fifty years of age, she also brought up this child by hand, and spared no pains to train her in the nur- "WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 27 ture and admonition of the Lord. She was the occasion of much solicitude during the years of childhood, and ever the subject of daily prayer. This child survives Mrs. P., and was privileged to watch by the dying bed, and perform those little offices of kindness that parents so much prize, till the heart that loved her had ceased to beat. 28 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. CHAPTER III. Testimony of her class-leader. — Incidents related by Henry — . — Jlethod adopted in convincing him of sin. — Labors for an impenitent family, all of whom were subsequently con- verted. — Interest in the Temperance cause. — Trial because members of the church dealt in alcohol. — Leaves her class for some months. — Conflict with temptations. — Rich experi- ence. " Sweet is the tear that from some Howard's eye Drops on the cheek of one he lifts from earth." COLEBIDGE. Beside the two children alluded to in the last chapter, Mrs. Prior took several of different ages, kept them for a time, and taught them correct habits, and obedience to the commands of God. Her attachment to children was peculiarly strong ; and as love begets love, she ever found her affec- tion reciprocated by the wide circle of youth among whom she had the happiness to move. Mr. F , an aged father, who was for eight years her class-leader, recently communicated the following : When the people were collecting to attend her funeral, previous to the service, a man accosted him who used to live Avith her when a boy. Mr. F did not at first recognise him ; but as he inquired, "Don't you remember Henry ?" the associations of other years were at once ic- "WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 29 called. They conversed a few moments in refer- ence to her many acts of benevolence, when the man remarked with some emotion, " No one can know more of that than I do. I have many a time carried as much provision as I could lift, and distributed by her direction to one poor family and anoiher ; and sometimes when my arms were too full she would help me." The immortal Coleridge has beautifully said : "He that works me good Nvith unmoved fare, Does it but half: he chills me while he aids My Benefactor, not my Brother Man !" Such a philanthropist was not Mrs. Prior. While distributing her alms, she ever sympathized in the sorrows of the afllicted, counselled them concerning temporal matters, as one who had a mother's heart, then talked to them about the soiil, and tenderly entreated them to read and obey the word of God. Mr. stated, that when he first saw her, he was a poor boy, roaming in the streets. She took him into her house and kept him several years. [Whether he felt that he owed to her his present respectable appearance and pleasant settlement in life, he did not say ; but it is not improbable, had the inquiry been made, that his testimony would have been to that effect.] He remarked, that a small circumstance occurred when he lived with her, that always made him feel ashamed when he thought of it. It was this. Mrs. Prior had gone 3* 30 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. out for the afternoon, and left him alone with the domestic. Being disposed to play, he put a corn upon a fishhook, and threw it in the yard to a chicken. The chick swallowed the bait, hook and all. The hook caught in the throat, and all his efforts to extricate it proved unavailing. He was greatly troubled, fearing Mrs. Prior would be highly displeased with him, and so he cut the line from the hook as close to the bill as possible, and charged the girl not to tell. Mrs. Prior came home, and nothing was said of what had happened. The poor chick drooped two or three days and died. The hook was found in its throat, and Hen- ry suspected with having done the mischief To screen himself from blame he denied it, but the servant girl betrayed him ; and as he refused to confess his fault, Mrs. Prior took him to an upper room alone, locked the door, desired him to kneel, and knelt beside him, and then told the Lord, weeping, " what a wicked boy he had been in telling a lie, and persisting in it, — how greatly he had sinned against him by so doing : she was sorry he had killed the chicken and caused it to suffer, but that was a trifle compared with denying the truth.'" Thus she prayed and labored with him for an hour. He held out as long as possible, but at length her tenderness overcame him, — he was si^bdued, and confessed the whole — was greatly humbled — and an impression was made on WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 31 his mind never to be for^rottcn. Mr. F states, that while in his class, she was constantly engaged in carrying out some benevolent purpose. At one time a destitute but interesting family lived near her, who were all impenitent. The father had struggled faithfully and long to rise above extreme want, but could seldom obtain employment — was at this time without any, and truly disheartened. Mrs. Prior, after understanding the circumstances, hired him to work in her garden, so that she might have an opportunity to talk to him daily about the subject of religion. She also supplied the wants of his wife and four children. In a little time the man was hopefully converted. He became dan- gerously ill, and was confined for several weeks. During his sickness, her attentions continued un- remitting, and the confidence and gratitude of the family were so fully secured, that her word be came as an oracle among them. The father died in faith, testifying of his love to Christ with his dying breath. The mother was in feeble health, and Mrs. Prior took two of the daughters to her home, till further provision could be made for them, obtained assistance for the others, and con- tinued her efforts in their behalf till the whole family gave evidence of saving conversion. There are several living witnesses of this exhibition of her fidelity to the law of love. Mr. F states farther, that her testimony at class-meeting evinced 32 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. deep humility, and was ever calculated to " abase self, and exalt Christ." She would often remark, " My greatest desire is, that self may be entirely crucified, and that my blessed Jesus may be all in all." Whatever good resulted from her labors she attributed to grace alone ; and when led to speak of it, her end seemed to be, to praise and magnify the name of the Lord, that he permitted so vile a worm to do anything in his service. She was early enlisted in the temperance cause, and labored untiringly to persuade men, women, and children, to sign the pledge. Several individ- uals who were members of the church dealt in alcohol. This exceedingly distressed her; she expostulated with them in love and faithfulness, and often with tears ; but their interest was con- cerned, and they would not be persuaded to abandon the guilty traffic. She was so much tried on this account that she did not meet with hei class, or go to the communion table, for several months. During this period she was assailed by many and fierce temptations. Plausible arguments were presented to her mind in favor of regarding all time as alike holy, and of serving the Lord in her own way, out of the pale of the visible church. She did not lose her hold of Christ, or in any way backslide ; but she had a sore conflict with the powers of darkness. She once remarked, that her experience at this time taught her, as nothing else WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 33 could have done, how to sympathize with others in similar trials. Previous to this it had become her habitual practice to impute all moral actions to the influence of either a good or bad spirit in connexion with human agency. Consequently whatever view of truth or error was presented it was prayerfully canvassed, and the question proposed, " Is it in accordance with the word of God ?" " Was it dic- tated by the Holy Spirit ?" or, " Did it come from the father of lies ?" This practice was continued to the end of life, and made many a rough way smooth in her weary pilgrimage. The sabbath question was soon settled by an appeal to " the law and the testimony ;" also the question about the church. Her design in staying away from the communion had been to rebuke the sin alluded to ; but at the end of ten months she received a special baptism of the Spirit, and her heart was so filled with love that she returned to her class meeting, to pour out her overflowing emotions in testimony of what God had done for her soul. She was no more disposed to justify the sale of ardent spirits than before, but had come to the conclusion that as the sin of her brethren had been reproved both private- ly and openly, she could do no more ; the com- munion table was not theirs, but the Lord's, and if they dared to come to it without clean hands and pure hearts, they alone must account for it, and 34 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. nothing could be gained by her continued sacrifice of the privileges she so much prized. When quite young, like too many others, she acquired the habit of using snuff, and contin- ued it for many years, without much reflection upon the inconsistency of the practice. A time came, however, when she was led to feel that she must resign this cherished indulgence. After be- ginning to labor in behalf of temperance, an in- dividual who had been many times entreated in vain to sign the pledge, reminded her of her love of snuff, and her unwillingness to relinquish it. She saw and felt the force of the reproof, and at once took the matter to her closet. A friend writes who once heard her relate this circum- stance, " She said, ' On querying with the unseen monitor the reason of the sacrifice that seemed to be required of me, the answer to my mind was, " I will have thee without spot or blemish," my heart responded, " Lord, I am full of spots and blemishes."' And the touching manner in which she expressed this, and the internal purity so evi- dent in her countenance, I can never forget." It cost a severe struggle, but after the conquest was gained she realized that a clog had been rolled off — a strong chain broken, and to use her own words, that " she was indeed the Lord's free- woman." She returned with renewed strength to work in his vineyard, feeling that " He made her WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 35 feet like hinds' feet," and that the desire of her heart would be given her. The individual above alluded to was visited, and told, with tears of gratitude, that the Lord had enabled her to over- come her love of snuff, that she had given it up for ever, and that she expected he would now sign the temperance pledge and never break it more. He could not resist her appeal, but was constrain- ed to put his name to the pledge, and henceforth kept it inviolate. From this time forward, the consciousness that she was a slave to no wrong habit, was a source of far more pleasure than can ever be found in any sinful indulgence. Her experience in this respect was blessed to many others. She could plead with the temperate drinker and the lover of tobac- co, as one who knew how to sympathize from having triumphed over a similar difficulty ; and often inspired courage and resolution where an- other might have failed. 36 VALKS OF USEFULNESS CHAPTER IV. Death of Mr. Prior. — Bereavement deeply Iclt.— Change ot circumstances.— Origin of the question, Can not something be done to slay the tide of vice in our city?" — Believing prayer. — Knowledge of the condition and wants of the young. — Beginning and end of the career of vice.— Organiza- tion of the A. F. M. R. Society. — Becomes one of its board of managers. — Motive.— Sympathy for the wretched.— in- ' tercst in relation to the half orphan asylum. — Em])loy.ed by the A. F. M. R. Society as a city missionary. *' Life is a state of trial, not reward, Though rough the passage, blissful is tlic pert." Skptember 14th, 1829, Mrs. Prior \vas agaia called to drink deep of the cup of sorrow. Her kind husband who had been so long her counsel- lor and best earthly stay, was summoned to the spirit-land. God had changed his countenance, and he was laid away in the narrow-house ap- pointed for all the living. Her home and her heart were made desolate, and for a time she felt crushed beneath a weight of grief; nevertheless she Avas enabled to rejoice in God, and bow with sweet submission to his will. She had many times looked into the grave and seen it close over the cherished objects of her tenderest affection — and this heavy blow seencd to open ?-fresh the WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 37 wounds that time had but partly healed — and though a murmuring word or thought found no place, yet her remaining ties to earth were so few and the attractions toward heaven so strong, that for several months it seemed to require special grace to lead her to enter her accustomed walks of usefulness with wonted cheerfulness and zeal Her pleasant residence on Bowery hill was ex- changed for another less retired, and though she never wanted for the comforts that pecuniary means afford, yet she felt more like a pilgrim and stranger on the earth than she had done be- fore. The weekly meetings for prayer, so long sustained at her house, vrere interrupted by her change of residence. In this meeting she had, with others, often enjoyed seasons — *' When heart met heart before the mercy-seat. And converse held on high and holy themes, Till earth and heaven seemed blent." The little band who had been gathered there were frequently brought so nigh the Cross by the precious blood of Jesus, that they seemed by faith, to touch the hem of his garment, and they had often " thought God heard them" and that their prayers were answered. These seasons were now — " Among the records of the far dark past." The flowers and shrubbery that her han5 had 38 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. twined and nurtured with so much care, weie faded. The garden and walk, and all the premise^ Upon the liill, were swept away, in order to biing. the elevation to a level with the ground around it. " Scenes of my hope ! the aching eye ye leave, Like yoB bright lines that paint the clonds at eVe, Tearful and saddiening with the saddened blazo, Mine eye the gleam pursues with wistful gaze, Sees shades on shades, witi-. deeper tfnt impend. Till, cliill and damp, the nioonleas night descend.'' It was on this hill, and in that praying cin h*. alluded to a,bove, that the condition of " the Ictn' if train of deluded ones'^ in our city, first moved t ho deep fountains of Christian sympathy, and iho in- quiry originated, " Can not something be done All was dark and forbidding to human view, but these sisters felt that there was help in God and efficacy in prayer. Their requests were inado known to him with the consciousness that his ear was ever open to their cry, and when in his pr(>vi- dence one was raised up to enter this untried field, to face the taunts and revilings of the ungodly, and pour light in upon this moral darkness — they saw the girdings of an unseen arm about the youtlifid champion, and though the ground he scannej seemed to have been occupied solely by the priiiro of darkness, they felt that it was to be so no longer. Mrs. Prior was among the first who look this brother by the hand andbadehimGod spVALKS OF USEFULNESS. 45 CHAPTER V. Letters — from Mrs. M. A. Hawkins. — Mrs, P.Hunt. — Mrs. R. Beatty. — Anonyirious.— Mrs. M. Dye. — Mrs. M. I. Hubbard. —Mrs. J. A. D .—Mrs. P. McDowalL— Miss J. A. Reed. Mrs. S. T. Martyn. Since the preparation of this little work was commenced, the following among other communi- cations have been received, and are inserted en- tire, with the exception of a few brief paragraphs, containing statements made elsewhere. Some were written by request, others are a free-will offering. Our object in placmg them before the reader in the present form is, that their united tes- timony may show in what estimation Mrs. Prior's character and labors were held by those who knew her most intimately. New York, June, 1843. T rejoice, my dear sister, that you are making the effort to compile facts in the life of our late lamented sister Prior, and have no doubt, if what is known can be collected and arranged, it may with the blessing of God lead many to glorify our Father who is in heaven. It was not my privilege to know Mrs. Prior till the year 1833. At that time our sister McDowal 46 \VALKS OF USEFULNESS. had moved to a neighborhood with which she was unacquainted, and commenced her usual work of gathering the females of the different families into a little prayer meeting. In one of these praying circles, in a small rear building, I first met Mrs. Prior. She led the meeting, alternately praying, singing, exhorting, or inviting others to do th& same ; and I shall never forget her faithfulness in reproving a young girl present adorned with a profusion of jewelry. I know not what became of this individual, but several who attended these meetings afterward united with the visible church. In the course of this year the Board of the F. M. R. Society was originated, and I a^ain met this sister at its stated meetings. During the time de- voted to business on these occasions, she seldom spoke much, but her countenance indicated that her heart was lifted in prayer. This attracted notice, and one sister remarked aside, tliat she felt reproved by her appearance, and believed her prayers would accomplish more than ail our plans. She continued to assist in the various efforts put forth by this society till the winter of '35, when she went to reside a few months in Poughkeepsie. She spent her time while there in di.stnbuting tracts, etc., and doing good as she had opportuni- t>'. On her return to the city, our society had experienced some difficulty in obtainii>g suitable missionaries to visit from house to hoii! e. Sister WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 47 P. had observed at some of our consultations-, " I don't know but the Lord will send me into this field yet." It was well known that no one could have been chosen better fitted, and the time soon came when she felt it her duty to commence the work, under the auspices of the society. She was the first female missionary thus employed, and who oan predict where the blessed effects of her esi- ample, in this respect, will end ? Many are now following in her steps, and though dead, she yet speaketh. Truly may it be said of her, " Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them." As a missionary, proclaiming the gospel from house to house, she was wonderfully successful ; yet she did not please all — ^even good people some- times treated her coolly. Her feelings were often tried by indiflference or open opposition, so that she was moved to tears ; and her only solace was found in committing the matter to the Lord. * * * I trust none will be discouraged who may read the record of this dear sister's efforts, and while trying to do something of the same kind, find themselves unable to accomplish the good they had expected, only here and there discovering a little fruit, and receiving many hints, both from friends and foes, that they are not in the path of duty. Let me entreat such to seek wisdom, as did our departed sister, from him who giveth lib- 48 WALKS OF USLFULNESS. erally, and upbraiilcth not, remembering that if he is for you, labor put forth, and seed sown in faith, can not be in vain. " In due time ye shall reap, if ye faint nutJ" ♦ ♦ * I trust you will avoid the usual fault of bioo-ra- pliers, that of presenting but one side of the char- acter, for I am persuaded that many real Christians are thus perplexed and disheartened. The evi- dence is wanting that the subject of the memoir to which their attention is directed, was one of like passions with themselves ; therefore, they do not expect to make similar attainments. My experi- ence thus far in the Christian life has tended to confirm the observation, that " while the sincere Christian does design to order all his life in con- formity to the law of God, yet the infirmities of the flesh, and the power of our arch-enemy Satan, do so combine, as sometimes to betray us into wrong states of feeling and action." This was true of our sister Prior, daily denying self, taking up her cross, following whithersoever her Savior led, nightly spreading her work before the mercy- seat, and inquiring wherein she might have of- fended in thought, word, or deed, and receiving comfort from the blessed assurance, that " if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteous- ness:' Naturally high-spirited, and of an ardent icraperanicut, the was liable to apply things to WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 49 herself not intended, and sometimes to speak from the impulse of the moment ; but if she retired to rest before she had asked forgiveness where she might have been wrong, she was sure on the mor- row to seek the earliest opportunity to do so. Thus self was abased, and God honored ; the power of grace triumphed, and the Christian conquered. She rather sought than shunned the Cross : her frequent reply to those who sympathized in her trials, or complained of their own, was, " No cross, no crown." There were many members of the church with which she stood connected, who, without examining for themselves, had imbibed the popular prejudice against the cause of moral re- form. After she had openly identified herself with its advocates, some of these brethren and sisters became reserved and distant ; the Avarm current of Christian affection ever manifested be- fore, seemed suddenly congealed. Had she been guilty of some flagrant misdemeanor, " not to be repented of," the averted eye and cold greeting could not have intimated more plainly a disposition to say, " Stand by thyself." She was too quick to discern, not to be aware of the existing state of feeling ; and to her sensitive, loving spirit, the trial was rather hard. She was conscious that it must be highly displeasing to the Savior to wit- nesp this uncandid, prejudiced state of mind among hi!) owi, -hiidren, and Ler iiearL v/as grieved tuot^ 50 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. on account of their sin, thaji because of personal feeling. However, she resolved to " love on and love ever" — going forward in that path of duty which to her mind had been made manifest as the 8UI1 at noonday. A year or two previous to hfer death she had the happiness to meet a degree of returning confidence and kindness from those whi bad so long stood aloof, which she received wit! pleasure and gratitude. The Psalmist has said. The secret of the Lord is with them that fea'^ him, and he will show them his covenant." Mrs Prior's daily experience bore witness to this pre cious truth. Her simplicity in prayer and strong faith were tndy remarkable, and I think none who marked her course from day to day could doubt that she had power with God. It was on this account that she was so near to me, and for this cause it was so painful for us to part with her ; but, " are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister to those who shall be heirs of salva- tion?" • • • • Affectionately yours, M. A. Hawkins. Brooklyn, July 21, 1843. • * * * I am glad you are prepar ing a memoir of our departed sister Prior. I presume all who have read her reports as one of the visit- WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 51 ing committee of the A. F. M. R. Society will be anxious to learn more of her. She possessed one trait of character in which she always appeared to me peculiarly assimilated to her Master. It was in her sympathy with the sick and afflicted; she was not only ready to weep with those who wept, and to administer words of comfort and con- solation to them, but where pecuniary aid was needed she was equally ready to bestow ; and when her own resources failed, she would call upon her Christian friends, and obtain from them the means by which she caused many a widow's heart to sing for joy. I have myself experienced, while watching over the dying bed of a beloved child, how deeply she could sympathize with the afflicted ; and I can not better describe the effect these visits had upon that dear child, than by quoting her own words. One day after Mrs. Prior had left the room, she exclaimed, " Oh mother, if it is so sweet to meet Christians here, what will it be in heaven ?" She appeared to adopt the language of the psalmist with all her heart, " I have none in heaven but thee, and there is none on earth I desire beside thee ;" and to be constantly looking forward with pleasure to the time when she should be absent from the body and present with the Lord. I recollect her saying to me soon after May-day, the last time but one that she moved, " I have been very much fatigued, but the 52 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. Savior seemed to say, ' Be patient, you will not have it to do many times more.' " In conversing with a Christian sister who had followed most of her family to the grave, and who was dwelling upon the idea of meeting them in heaven, she re- plied, " I have long since learned to regard God as the ocra/i, and my children and friends as drops which I received from it, and which have again returned to mingle with it." It is often said that we magnify the virtues and forget the faults of our friends M'hen they are dead. However this may be, the following re- mark I have often made in her lifetime, " It is my opinion that very few ministers in this city have been directly instrumental in the salvation of more sinners than she was, while employed by the M. R. Society." It might be said with truth of her as of the early disciples, she " went every- where preaching the word." I met a friend the other day from the west, we were speaking of Mrs. P., I asked, "Did you ever see her?" she replied " Yes, once, and I shall never forget the impression she made upon my mind as I listened to her recital of some of the scenes of sorrow and suffering she had witnessed. I could not help thinking she was literally ' eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame.'" I mention this to show the impression she made upon strangers. * * » * Yours truly, P. Hunt. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 53 Dear Madam : Knowing that you are about to publish a memoir of the late venerable and highly esteemed Margaret Prior, it i« with great pleasure I improve the privilege of furnishing one or two incidents which attest not only her faithfulness and fearlessness, but the fulfilment of the promises of God, who hath said, " In all thy ways acknow- ledge him, and he shall direct thy paths," " My grace is sufficient for thee," Slc. Those of us who enjoyed the pleasure of an intimate acquaint- ance with her, well know that the descending tor- rent, the piercing blast accompanied by hail or snow, did not prevent her from going abroad on her errands of mercy while health would admit, till she had nearly numbered her threescore years and ten. One morning as the rain was falling, after seeking direction from the Lord, she went out as usual to attend to the wants of the needy whom she had found in the highways and lanes of the city ; and had not proceeded far when she was accosted by a pretty-faced interesting-looking Irish girl, of about 16, who inquired the direct way to W St., producing a ticket she had just received from an intelligence office, with the num- ber of a dwelling where she expected a situation as chamber-maid. Learning that the poor girl could not read, Mrs. Prior kindly offered to ac- company her. During the walk she stated that she had been early deprived by death of a faith- 5* 54 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. ful motlicr, and being in indigent circumstances had encountered the perils of the deep, with the hope of obtaining permanent and profitable em- ployment. Such advice as the case required was imparted, and so much did the sympathies of the dear old lady become enlisted in the homeless stranger, that she went with her to the door of the house, hoping to enlist the sympathies of her em- ployer. Instead, however, of being received with that courtesy and kindness which her age demand- ed, she was rebuked with such indignity as led her to make inquiry in the neighborhood respect- ing the character of the house, which she learned was decidedly bad. Alarmed for the safety of the girl she returned to the place just as the young stranger was leaving the door, having engaged to serve for 88.00 per month, and to return imme- diately after getting her clothes. When informed by Mrs. Prior that the house was disreputable she expressed much gratitude that the discovery had been made before she entered with her little all, adding that no price would induce her to return, as she preferred a virtuous life to great riches. The good old lady offered to procure a place for her, where her present and future interests would be cared for ; but desired first to see the person af the intelligence office who could be instrumental in efTecling the ruin of the innocent and unwary After making her statements to him, he professed WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 55 entire ignorance of the woman's device, and said he was happy to be informed, and would be cautious in future, though he had furnished the same wo- man with eight or ten servants per month, and had found it difficult to please the harpy, as she was very particular to have those sent who (to use her own words) were " good-looking," The girl was provided for immediately in a pious family, where she still continues very much respected, having learned to read, and has also given evidence of saving conversion. She ceases not to express her gratitude to Mrs. P. for the trouble and anxiety she manifested in her behalf, and by which alone she was rescued. At another time she called on me wearied in mind and body, and related with much emotion a hazardous interview she had just had at the house of a fortune-teller. She had been requested by a Christian friend to call at the place and leave tracts, &c. The friend accompanied her, and they were met at the door by the dealer in the black art, who accosted them in a low tone, say- ing : " Ladies I am sorry you can not have your for- tunes told just now, but there are so many wailing, you will have to sit some time first," She assured him that he had mistaken their object, but they walked in, and took seats in the parlor where were a number of females genteelly dressed — with double veils — waiting to be told their future des- 56 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. tiny. As the magician entered his private room with one of them, being left alone with the others, Mrs. Prior embraced the opportunity to converse with them about the future destiny of their souls. They listened attentively, and some wept. She knelt to pray with them, but as soon as the voice of prayer was heard, the fortune-teller came from his room in great wrath and bade her rise and leave his house. Unmoved by his rage she con- tinued prayer, but as several of the women began to leave and he saw that he should lose his fees, he grew more angry, and saying she should not leave by the door she entered, hastily locked it ; and, with her friend, she was obliged to make her escape by a back way through a narrow nine-pin alley. Here there were a large collection of men engaged in sport ; she stopped and spent a few moments distributing her tracts and preaching the gospel to them. Some used harsh language, but others listened silently. She was much overcome while relating the circumstance, but felt that the Lord had strengthened her to be a witness for him in the presence of his enemies. We who have had the privilege of administeiang to her a draught of cold water, and a piece of brdid, when she entered our dwellings weary and fa- tigued by her excessive labor to do good to the perishing, are admonished by her precious ex- ample to be " Diligent in business, fervent in WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 57 spirit, serving the Lord." Does she not even now whisper to us from her bright abode, " Be not weary in well-doing, for in due time ye shall reap if ye faint not ?" That the friends who knew and loved her on earth may so improve the grace given them that they may all ultimately, through grace in Christ Jesus, unite with her in casting their crowns at his feet, and sing with the redeemed " Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name be honor and glory for ever," is the prayer ot your unworthy fellow-laborer in the cause of moral purity. R. Beattie Bloomingdale, July, 1843. ******** Impressions are often formed in early youth, which neither time nor a diversity of circumstances can wholly obliterate ; they blend as it were with our very nature, and seem to connect themselves intimately with all the subsequent relations of life. The most pleasing, and probably the most beneficial impressions of my younger days were received from the frequent visits of Mrs. Prior at the house of my grandmother, between whom and herself there existed for many years a close friend- ship. Though young and weak in judgment, there was an instinctive feeling within, which bade mo 58 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. acknowledge her incstimable^worth ; and I learned to love and respect her long before I knew why. The manner in which she admonished me for my childish faults, and pointed out the path of duty, won upon my young heart, and produced that af- fection and esteem which time served only to strengthen and confirm. To her I am indebted for my first correct ideas of the Bible. Accus- tomed at school to consider it as a task from which so many verses were to be learned by rote, or at home, as an ordinary exercise of daily occurrence, and like most children, who think books are given them but to tax the power of memory, I did not examine into its meaning, or profit by its precepts. She early perceived this, and endeavored by de- scribing the great goodness and mercy of God, and selecting those passages in scripture which most forcibly illustrate both, to awaken in my mind a sense of our depcndance on our Creator, and the awful retribution which must be the result of disobedience to his commands. As years in- creased, the love and affection of the child became merged in the admiration and just appreciation of riper youth ; kindly offices which at first seemed the result of individual attachment, a further ac- quaintance convinced me were but the promptings of a heart devoted to the good of being. Her philanthropy was as disinterested as it was ex- tended, and as active as it was enlarged. * * • WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 59 I recollect one instance of her benevolence that is but a specimen of many others. In consequence of the extreme heat during one of the summer -iionths, several cartmen had lost horses, upon ivhose labor theic families depended for daily oread. She no sooner learned this, than she irfi* mediately went to her neighbors soliciting a sufB- cient sum to buy these poor cartmen other horses, that they might resume their work : sometimes she met with rebuffs, at other times remonstran- ces ; but she was enabled to conquer all obstacles and obtain her end. On one occasion in going to market she lost a three dollar bill, and when re- turning home she discovered her loss : she said, silently, " Lord, if it be thy will that I should find this bill, the first poor I meet shall receive the benefit of it." On retracing her steps she found the bill, and a family of six poor children were fed by it for several days. The objects of her benevolence were ever the poor, the weak, the needy, and on their hearts her memory is engraved and hallowed with tears of gratitude. * * » « * New-York, July, 1843. It w^as my privilege to be intimately acquainted with iter Prior during the last six years of her life. We were members of the same church, and 60 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. coadjutors in the work of moral reform. I first saw her at a love-feast, where in exalted strains she bore testimony to the faithfulness of a cove- nant-keeping God, M'ho had, I think thq night be- fore, answered the prayers of many years in the conversion of her only son. As a Christian she was most exemplary. She delighted in the ordinances of God's house ; her seat was rarely vacant, and her lixed and devout attention bespoke the interest she felt in the min- istry of the word. To her, sacramental seasons were truly spiritual feasts : usually the swelling emotions of her heart found vent in tears ; and sometimes, in her abound- ing joy, she would audibly ascribe praise to God. She greatly prized her class-meeting, and there, as well as in meetings for prayer, her heartfelt and powerful exhortations to faithfulness in duty, and consecration to the cause of Christ, were a means of quickening and encouragement to many who heard her. In private she was equally exemplary ; every Christian grace adorned her character. In her devoted attachment to the closet might be found the cause of her fidelity and remarkable success in pubUc. Prayer was her life. Nor did she offer unbelieving petitions to God : her's was " the fer- vent, effectual prayer, that availeth much ;" and ia her enlar^^sd desires she Cinbric^'l the v/orlJ. WALKS OF rSEFULXESS. 61 Often the promise was literally fulfilled, " Before ye call I will answer, and while ye are yet speak- ing I will hear." She was favored with remark- able answers to prayer. It was her custom to devote her evenings exclu- sively to religious exercises : then the doings of each day passed under strict review, her motives and actions were subjected to the scripture test, and all was commended to God in humble prayer and faith. Thus was she strengthened for the la- borious duties of each succeeding day. She diligently studied the Avord of God : to her the sacred volume was an inexhaustible mine of wealth, and every opportunity was improved to enrich herself from its treasures. In her walks of usefulness she carried with her a testament, which she read while waiting to see those on whom she called The Bible was her standard, her rule of faith and practice. Consequently, it was her aim to " take up her cross daily, deny her- self wholly, and follow Christ fully." Her whole life was regulated upon the principle, " Ye are not your own, ye are bought with a price ; therefore, glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are his."" Her remarkable conscientiousness was apparent in everything, especially in her exact observance of truth. In relating occurrences, or expressing opinions, she was extremely guarded, using ^uc^ r. 62 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. terms only as' might cosvey the desired impres- sion. Her conversation was seasoned with grace, and calculated to edify her hearers. She abhor- red " evil-speaking," and nfever allowed an indi- vidual to detract from the character of another in her presence. In dress she obsen^ed plainness, neatnesrs, and durability. She had been fond of tasteful apparel, had warn fine needlework, &c., som.etime after she professed religion ; but when she advanced in religious experience, and became enlightened on this point, whatever she supposed that the Savior would disapprove, was cheerftdly sacrificed. Her ornamented dresses were cut up into infants' caps, and distributed among the poor. For many years she wore the simple garb of the Friends, but final- ly abandoned it, because she could be so readily identified, that after the first or second time, she found it difficult to obtain admission into houses where her w^arnings and reproofs were unwel come. She redeemed the time, bestowing on those ob- jects the largest proportion whicli by the world are little regarded. She made visits and calls only when she expected to receive or impart ben- efit. These interviews were always short, the conversation confined to religious topics, and usu- ally concluded with prayer. Her principles were carried out with great con- WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 63 sistency, never suffering her to patronise the vicious and unprincipled. When temperance stores were first established, she took great pains, and subjected herself to much inconvenience, to give them all her custom. She frequently called on the dealers who pursued the nefarious traffic in her neighborhood, and assured them, that but for this, she would be glad to trade with them, and added such searching appeals to conscience, and earnest exhortations to abandon it, as were sometimes successful. She was pointed and faithful, though very kind^ in reproving sin ; no transgressor whom she could reach escaped rebuke, and she thus often incurred the displeasure of the ungodly. At one time sev- eral individuals were so incensed against her, that she told me she suspected an effort would be made to waylay and injure her. Whenever it was con- sistent, before reproving an individual, it was made the subject of special prayer. But Mrs. Prior's benevolence^ her active, labori- ous, untiring, disinterested efforts to do good, were what particularly distinguished her. She lived not for herself, but to relieve human misery, and win souls to Christ. The world was her field of labor, and every son and daughter of Adam shared in her sympathies. St. Paul's description of a useful woman (1 Tim. 5, 10) may with great propriety be applied to her, 64 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. She brought up children," " lodged strangers," " washed the saints' feet," " relieved the afflicted," and " diligently followed every good work." In the use of all that she possessed, she regarded herself as the Lord's steward : he had command- ed, " Occupy till I come," — and when he came, he found his " own with increase." These efforts were not confined to a few years, but characterized her whole Christian life. She was frequently called from home to attend the sick and afflicted ; and in order that her db- mestic affairs might receive due attention, and no opportunity be given for reproach, she often took the requisite time from hours allotted to sleep to attend to them. She was jealous of the time that the care of supp.rjliious rooms and furniture demanded, and once succeeded in gaining her husband's consent to close her parlors for a year. Her house was an asylum for the friendless : I have known her take in a deserted wife and her little ones, and maintain them several weeks. Applications for pecuniary assistance were prompt- ly met, and generally exceeded the expectations of applicants. She was remarkable for devising ways and means of usefulness : her mind was fruitful in expedients. The wisdom of the serpent, and the harmlessness of the dove, were happily blended in WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 65 her efforts. In a neglected district she would, from her own purse, hire the use of some poor widow's room, pay her for preparing it, and stated- ly gather in the neighboring women for prayer. In the vicinity of a revival, she would make spe- cial effort to induce the people to attend church, frequently allowing the industrious poor what they could make in the time thus occupied. Ai the door of a brothel, when other means have failed, she has gained access to the inmates by sending word that an old lady had "jewels f* them," referring to the society's tract. And under similar circum- stances, by assuming the appearance of a washer- woman, she has been permitted to see, and effected the rescue of, one Avho was unwillingly detained in an earthly hell. Sometimes by means of an alley or private door she would enter these houses unobserved, and her appearance among the wretch- ed inmates would be as unexpected, and unwel- come, as though she were a visitant from the spirit- land. In places where the mingled effects of idleness, destitution, and crime, would cause the benevolent to despair of affording more than temporary relief, her mind would fix instinctively upon the point at which a thorough reformation must begin, and with energy and faith she has carried on the blessed work, until families have been redeemed, and pre- pared to fill reputable stations in society. In some 6* 66 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. cases, after securing the gratitude of a degraded family by relieving pressing want, she has sent for lime, instructed and assisted them in the use of it, given directions for cleaning the apartment, and promised to call at a certain time and reward them if it were attended to. Then in a clean room she would impart wholesome instruction, incite them to industry, procure work for them, clothe the children, and place them in Sunday school, &c. It is my opinion that she never aban- doned such a faAily, until satisfied that she had done everything that could be done for their tem- poral and eternal salvation. At my request, she visited a family where the husband and wife were unhappy in their union, and through whose mutual mismanagement a daughter of about fifteen was in danger of being ruined. By her kind, motherly manner, she won the confidence of the wife, who frankly related her grievances, and thus opened the way for suit- able counsel to both mother and daughter. The girl expressed a willingness to work, and Mrs. P. told her, if she would neatly execute some sewing her mother needed by a given time, she would handsomely reward her and procure her other work. The task was accomplished, and the promises fulfilled. Her visits were frequently repeated, and in a short time the whole aspect of afiairs was changed, — the girl was rescued WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 67 from the snares that beset her, the family was happy. It was evidently her pm-pose to promote the spiritual and temporal welfare of all whom she met. " Instant in season, and out of season," no individual was overlooked, no opportunity neg- lected. This was strikingly illustrated in travel- ling. The year preceding her death, she attended the semi-annual meeting at Utica. As was her custom, she carried with her a liberal supply of tracts and Moral Reform Advocates, and early on the passage she presented them to all who were accessible within or without the cabin ; they were perused with apparent interest, and in many cases exchanged for others. The evening was spent in religious conversation with several of the passengers. When her friends were about to leave the boat, Mrs. P. was missing. She was found aside, urging upon the chambermaid the great duty of giving her heart to Christ. That summer she visited Springfield, New Jer- sey. She arrived on Saturday evening, and spent the night and the Sabbath with a valued friend. On Monday morning the carriage was prepared to carry her to another friend's, perhaps one mile distant ; but she positively refused to ride, saying, she " came not to ride, but to work for the Lord." She walked, and called in each house on the way, left tracts and papers, conversed, and occasionally 68 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. prayed with the inmates. When she set out to return, she walked to the Springfield depot, a dis- tance of three miles, and labored as before About half way, she providentially entered a house just in season to save the life of an individual, who was in iminent danger, and would in all probability have died, but for her timely assistance The rest of the way was more thickly settled, but she visited every house. At the tavern, she found several ladies in the sitting-room, upon whom she faithfully urged the claims of the gos- pel. At the depot she received some assistance from a gentlemen, to whom, as soon as they were seated, she addressed her usual question, " Do you love the Savior ?" He replied, that it was a long time since he had been asked that question, and that he was a professor of religion. He can- didly related his state of mind, which was some- what peculiar ; and from her rich experience in the divine life, and extensive knowledge of the word of God, she was enabled to impart counsel and encouragement that resulted, as was after- ward ascertained, in a revival of the work of grace in his heart. She also recommended the Advo- cate and the principles of moral reform to his at- tention (as she did on every suitable occasion), and he at once subscribed for the paper. In conversing with the impenitent she could not quiet her conscience, by indirect allusionSy or a few WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 69 general remarks concerning the importance of re- ligion. She did not " soften the truth, or smooth her tongue," lest she should give offence, but faith- fully made known to them their duty. On one occasion she handed a lady a tract at the door, accompanied by a few words on the im- portance of the subject of which it treated. She had walked but a few steps from the house when she felt that she had not done her whole duty, and returned. She apologised to the lady, who again met her, by saying, " I have but half done my er- rand and then warned her in so kind a manner that she could say, " If you perish, my skirts are clean of your blood." Probably no person in this city could, from per- sonal observation, more correctly gauge the amount of crime and wretchedness existing in it than Mrs. Prior, For many years she had diligently traver- sed its lanes and by ways, and explored its gar- rets and cellars, and daily witnessed the appalling effects of sin. As she advanced in age, these ex- citing scenes affected her nervous system, and frequently deprived her of sleep. Sometimes whole nights were spent in weeping and supplica- tion, on account of the abominations that surrounded her. When thus exercised she felt that it would be a privilege to spend the evening of life in re- tirement, and comparative quiet ; but she saw the field white to the harvest and the laborers few, to WALKS OF USEFULNESS. and the love of Christ, and of souls, constrained her to toil on. In her last sickness, on account of indisposition, I seldom saw her. At one time she sent for me ; during our interview I remarked I thought I should feel comparatively cheerful in view of death, if I had been more useful ; 1 was scarcely willing to leave the world when I had done so little in it. She replied, that she " had never before been left to depend on naked faith, as in this sickness," and added, " Of all the good works that I have done, I can see nothing ; they are completely hidden. I can see nothing but the Cros^nothing but the Cross.^* She spoke most affectionately of the Christian sisters with whom she had been so long associated in the board, and Executive Committee, of the Moral Reform Society ; of the importance of their being much in prayer, and entirely devoted, and exhorted me to continue my own efforts ; then, as with a prophet's vision, she gazed into the future, and predicted glorious things for the cause she loved. The last interview I was favored with, she was suffering much ; she remarked, in substance, that it is not enough to do the will of God, we must also suffer it ; that the *' Captain of our salvation" was made perfect through suffering, and that this fiery process was necessary, to make her meet for the inheritance of the saints in light. * * * WALKS OF USEFULNESS. n To Mrs. Prior's coimsel, prayers, and example, I am mueh indebted ; how much^ I can not know until disembodied. In her character there is much to admire and imitate, but it is only the reflected image of the Savior. She shone in borrowed light May we follow her as she followed Christ, and ihare in her glorious reward. Margaret Dyb. New York, July, 1843. * • 9 » • • » I AM happy to have this opportunity to add my simple testimony to the moral worth of our dear sister Prior. From an intimate personal acquaint- ance as a fellow visiter I was led to esteem her as a devoted saint of whom the world was not worthy. She was constantly on the watch for opportunities to benefit both the bodies and souls of her fellow creatures ; and was never discourag- ed or hindered in the work of doing good by ap- parently unpropitious circumstances, but urged her way over every obstacle to the entire accomplish- mefit of her wishes. In her were combined quali- ties that are rarely united in one individual. Great energy, untiring zeal, extraordinary firm- ness and decision, unshrinking perseverance, and strong faith, were prominent traits in her charge- 72 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. ter. She frequently went abroad on errands of mercy, when the weather would have been thought, by most, unfit for females" to be out. I remember, distinctly, her calling on me one cold rainy day in December, after hanng been out the greater part of the day engaged in her laborious duties. I expressed my surprise to see her abroad in such weather, but she took my hand and kissing me, replied in her usual sweet earnest way, " Sis- ter, there's a great work to be done, and time is short ; Jesus has been very precious to m.y soul to-day, and — " When I am happy in him, December 's as pleasant as May." She delighted much in the character of the Sa- Tior, and had a most happy faculty of representing him as pecuUarly adapted to the necessities of every sinner. When speaking to the impenitent of redeeming, dying love, she would frequently break out singing — " Jesus, the name that calms my fears, That bids my sorrows cease, 'Tis music in the sinner's ears, 'Tis life, and health, and peace." Precious sister, may thy mantle fall upon many who shall " Go and do likewise." * * * * M. I. Hubbard. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 73 Greenbush, July 28, 1843. ***** It was my privilege for many years to enjoy an intimate acquaintance with Mrs. Prior, and between the dear departed and myself there existed a strong affection, hke that of mother and daughter. I spent many months in her family before and after her widowhood, and know, from daily observation, that hers was not a light that glared abroad and shone dimly at home. She was the true Christian in every relation which she sustained as a wife, a mother, a mistress, and friend. The question may be asked by those who knew her in public — but not in private life, " How could a woman so mMc\\ from home, attend proper- ly to her duties at home 1 I answer that her prin- cipal aim was to live to the glory of God, hence her domestic arrangements were ordered in sub- serviency to his glory. Unnecessary visiting, idle gossiping, undue attention to dress, and needless ^penditure, formed no part of her daily work. With the assistance of a servant, who was some- times but a small girl, she despatched the work of the family in the early part of the day, leaving a part of each day for works of charity at home or abroad. Her excellent husband cordially co-ope- rated with her in all her benevolent efforts, and his kindness to her was amply repaid by her cheerful acquiescence in all his wishes, the neat and quiet order of his house, and her polite 7 74 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. and affectionate attentions to him at all times. On remarking to her one day that few ladies thought it necessary to meet their husbands at the door upon their return from business, and place a chair for them as they entered the room ; she answered with a sweet smile, " I wish to be an example to wives. I meet with many young married women in my visits, and always inculcate the duty of making their homes cheerful and pleasant to their husbands, so that they will have no excuse to seek for happiness away from their home." I was much with her when placed in other cir- cumstances. Moving in a house out of town to which considerable land was attached, she was kept for a time from engaging in works of active benevolence. Like Martha, she was " cumbered with much serving," and felt that she was in dan- ger of becoming worldly minded ; but what could she do ? God had withdrawn her from the work in which she delighted and placed her in a situa- tion, where, surrounded with cares and worldly influences, she must serve him without the aid of Christian society, and often, without the enjoyment of sanctuary privileges. This she deeply deplored, but it led her to look more within, to watch more closely the temper and spirit with which she per- formed her daily duties, and taught her, in after days, to exercise more tenderness and feel more ■ympathy for those who were pressed heavily WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 75 with worldly cares. In this situation she also had outward trials which sorely pressed her heart ; and then her own short-comings, and proneness to impatience under her Father's rod, added to her out- ward trials, led her sometimes to cry out in anguish as did David, Ps. Ixxxviii., "My soul is full of troubles , thou hast afflicted me with all thy waves. Mine eye mourneth by reason of affliction, Lord, I have called daily upon thee, I have stretched out my hands unto thee. Deep calleth unto deep, all thy waves and thy billows have gone over me." But heavier billows were in reserve for her. She was laid upon a bed of sickness, as also was her husband. The sympathy they felt for each other retarded their recovery. Both alternated between life and death. At last the case was decided, Mr. Prior's spirit returned to God and our dear sister was left to toil a few years longer in the vine- yard of her Master ; to witness the conversion of her only son, to rear to womanhood the little or- phan whom she had taken, and engage in a new object of benevolence for which she seemed pe- culiarly fitted, and in which her heart was deeply interested. She was written widow, and she felt that it was a name of sorrow. How sincerely she mourned the loss of her best earthly friend, and how deeply she felt that this world was a cold desolate place, was only known to her Savior, and the few who knew the deep workings of her 76 \VALKS OF USEFULNESS. widowed heart. But she spread her case before the mercy-seat, and found God her refuge, a very present help in every time of trouble. He had led her in six troubles, and in the seventh did not forsake her ; but was with her in the dark and cloudy day, whispering to her soul, " It is I, be not afraid." Friends gathered around, to weep with and comfort her, for " she had instructed many, and strengthened the weak hands ;" her words had up- holden him that was falling, and strengthened the feeble knees ; and now, when her turn came, all were ready to sympathize with and sooth her. Her business was soon settled to her satisfaction, and she engaged again in the work of benevolence, with a heart deadened to the world, and a spirit subdued by affliction, resolving to be a " widow in- deed ;" and such she truly was, and continued to be until her death. May none who read her walks of usefulness feel discouraged because they can not fully imitate her example ! I remember she once remarked to a young friend who expressed a wish to walk in her steps, to this effect : " It would not become you to do my work. I am an aged person, my appearance is plain, my countenance grave [and I may add, her person commanding and dignified] ; I can go through the markets and public places and no one dare insult me ; whereas, your youthful appearance might provoke insult. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 77 Serve God, my dear, in that sphere of life in which you are called to move. Do the work which the Savior puts into your hands, in obedience to his word and the teachings of his Spirit ; but do not feel that you are called to do the work of others. Each servant has his own appropriate work as- signed — see to it, that you do it well. Then you may hope to hear the welcome plaudit, ' Well done, good and faithful servant.' " She practised strict economy, in order that she might have more to give the poor. I have known her to wear her under garments patched, that she might give them her best ones, alleging as a rea- son, that they, perhaps, had nothing to patch with. Among the numerous objects of benevolence in which she was engaged, she was frequently brought in contact with minds of a high order. While she felt the spirit of her station, and could act well the part assigned her, she could not like them express in flowing language and correct diction the thoughts and feelings of her heart. She was not a polished shaft in the Almighty's quiver, yet like the woman in the gospel, she did what she could. She loved all who bore the image of her Sav- ior, irrespective of denominational differences. A beautiful sentiment by a distinguished author of the present day expresses the views she held up- on the subject of Christian union : " Truth may be compared to the light of the sun. The light 7* 78 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. comes from heaven colorless and ever the same ; and yet it takes different hues on earth, varying according to the objects on which it falls. Thus different formularies may sometimes express the same Christian truth, viewed under different as- pects. How dull would be this visible creation if all its boundless variety of shape and color were to give place to one unbroken uniformity ! How melancholy would be its aspects, if all created beings did but compose a solitary and vast unity ! The unity which comes from Heaven doubtless has its place ; but the diversity of human nature has its proper place also. In religion we must neither leave out God nor man. Without unity your religion can not be of God — without diversi- ty it can not be the religion of man, — and it ought to be of hoih.:'— If Aubigne's Reformation, vol. 3, book xi. I might say many things more of our dear de- parted friend, to whom I feel personally indebted, beyond what I have languaore to express ; but my letter is already too long, and I will close by sub- joining the following lines written by Rev. Jona? King* : — " Sister, thou ha?t gone before us, And thy saintly soul is flown, Where tears are wiped from every eye And sorrow is unknown. * Christian Lyre, voL i, p. 202, WALKS OF USEFULNESS. From the burden of the flesh, From care and sin released, Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest. *< The toilsome way thou 'st travelled o'er And hast borne the heavy load ; But Clirist hath led thy weary feet To reach his blest abode. Thou 'rt sleeping now, like Lazarus, On his Father's faithful breast, Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest. ** Sin can never taint thee now. Nor can doubt thy faith assail. Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ And the Holy Spirit fail. And then thou 'rt sure to meet the good, Whom on earth thou lovedst best, Where the wicked cease from troubling. And the weary are at rest. " And when the Lord shall summon us, Whom thou hast left behind, May we, untainted by the world, As sure a welcome find : May each, like thee, depart in peace. To be a glorious, happy guest, Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest." fours, with Christian regards, J. A. 80 WALKS OF USEFULNESS Tkrry's Ville, July 2S, 1843. • * * I am happy to comply with your request, in giving my testimony in relation to our departed sister Prior. She was one of the first among the sisters interested in the cause of reform to aid and encourage my husband in the important work in which he was engaged. He ever found her an able and wise counsellor in times of difficulty and trial ; and believing that the prayers of the righteous avail much, he placed implicit confidence in hers. He regarded her as an eminent servant of the Lord ; and there was abundant evidence, that she was deeply interested in the work to whicn she was devoted. During the time of his trial before the Synod, at that important crisis, the midnight hour was witness to her intercessions in his be- half, that the Lord would sustain and comfort him. A little incident in her history just now occurs to mind, which I will mention. She one day called upon me and accompanied Mr. McDowall and myself to the museum, to see a Chinese lady who was attracting considerable attention in the city at that time. While there witnessing the applause and attention of those who were present, Mrs. Prior was led to address her on the subject of her eternal salvation. So affecting was her appeal to her, that many who were present could not refrain from weeping. The tears flowed pro- WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 81 fusely from the eyes of the interesting girl while Mrs. P. conversed with her, saying, she hoped her visit to this country would prove an invaluable blessing to her soul. There are many things of interest which I might relate, but they are partly effaced from my memory, and you will probably gather them from other sources. * * * * I sometimes attended the prayer-meeting to which you allude, that was so long sustained at her house on Bowery hill, and shall never forget those precious seasons. jMy last interview with this dear sister was one of tender interest. Being on a visit to New York, soon after my arrival in the city, I learned she was considered dangerous- ly ill — and having some business of importance with her, I hastened to her residence, and, to my surprise, found her apparently near her last change ; but her mind was calm, and in a heav- enly frame. She felt that her sickness was unto death, and expressed much joy at my coming, saying, she had much to say to me. I was desi- rous to see her, that I might have her advice con- cerning the publication of some MSS. She wished me especially to desire the dear sister who was about to prepare them for the press, to " humble self and exalt Christ,^^ and in her usual faithful- ness repeated this request several times. During the conversation she spoke of her son with deep 82 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. emotion. I lis spiritual interests seemed to lay with weight upon her heart. Tears ran down her cheeks as she exclaimed, " The Lord bless my son r She was aware that over-exertion and ex- posure to the cold, while laboring to save the wretched and the outcast, had brought her to this bed of sickness ; but she rejoiced that she had been laboring for her blessed Master; and, as was said of Mary, may it not be said of her, " She hath done what she could" ? As I was about leaving her, she affectionately urged me to call again in the afterpart of the day, as she might tlien be able to say more about some dear friends who had gone a little before her, and who she believfHl were surrounding the throne of God. But I saw her no more. In about two hours she fell asleep in Jesus, and went to reap the blessed fruit of all her toil. May the Lord be with you, by the special influ- ences of his Spirit, in preparing this little work. I trust that the memoir may prove a great bles- sing, — and although the subject of it has finished her labors here, and gone to her reward, that she may through this medium effectually speak to the living. Yours, dear sister, in Christian love, Phebe McDowall. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 83 Newark, August 7, 1843. * * * * Mrs. Prior was one of the few of whom it may be said " the world was made better for her having lived in it." Like her compassion- ate Savior she " went about doing good words are powerless to set forth the loveliness of her character ; but her memory will ever be enshrined in the hearts of those whom she lived to bless. Never shall I forget her calm, dignified manner, her wise and maternal counsels, her tender, yet faithful reproofs. It seems but yesterday when, to a dear brother who had recently indulged hope in Christ, I heard her say, in her usual impressive tone, " Keep your soul full of eyes, young man, keep your soul full of eyes.^^ As an individual I honored her judgment. When my heart has rebelled against the discipline of Heaven, and the path of duty seemed dark, like an angel-guide she sought to lead me where she felt I could most honor Christ, saying, " The Lord hath need of thee," " be faithful to his cause." Her counsel was priceless treasure, but since her lips were sealed in death, I have learned more fully to appreciate her words of love and wisdom. The refinement and delicacy that seemed in- herent in her natural character, the good sense ever manifested in the use of words, and expres- sions chosen to indicate her views and feelings in relation to the cause of moral purity, recommend- 84 WALKS OF USKFULNESS. ed both horself and the cause, even to entire strangers, who had before been greatly prejudiced. No one, however strong might be their dislike to the principles she advocated, could ever accuse her of coarseness or vulgarity, or regard her as wanting in that quick sense of propriety so neces- sary to usefulness or loveliness in the female character. Her *' chaste conversation" on all oc- casions, and in all circumstances, was, indeed, a most worthy example for youth or age. Truly, efforts and counsels, and prayers like hers, are no common blessings. Happy indeed will be her survivors who imbibe her spirit, and look forward to a like glorious " crown of rejoi- cing." May the Holy Spirit abundantly bless the his- tory of a life so eminently devoted to works of benevolence, is the ardent desire of. Yours affectionately, Julia A* Reed. New York, Dec. 14, 1843. • • • * My recollections of the departed saint are all pleasant. From the moment when I first looked upon her placid and benevolent countenance, up to the last hour of earthly intercourse, she was to me a truly maternal friend. God, in his wise providence, had just be- fore taken from me a mother most tenderly beloved, and my heart clung to Mrs. Prior with an aflection that had in WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 85 It something of the filial character. When, afterward, I saw her day by day pursuing her noiseless and self-denying tabors of love — when I saw her humility, her faithfulness to the souls of others, and her untiring benevolence — I for- got selfish affection, in my admiration of what the grace of God could accomplish in and through frail humanity. It has ahvaj'S seemed to me a peculiarly lovely feature in Mrs. Prior's character, that with all her activity and strength of purpose, she was so iruly feminine. No coarseness was mingled with her plainness of speech, no boisterousness with her zeal. Her feelings, her sensibilities, her tastes, were all characterized by a gentleness and delicacy seldom surpassed. Those who read the records of her heroic daring and her unconquerable energy, in these pages, may be sur- prised to learn that she was almost childlike in her love of birds and flowers, and indeed of all that is beautiful in na- ture or art. She saw in these things a promise and a type of that better inheritance reserved for the saints, and found her strength daily renewed by tliis looking " through Na- ture up to Nature's God." I have never, in a somewhat extended sphere of obser\-ation, met with any one who united so much simplicity and strength of character — so much masculine courage and firmness, with womanly ten- derness and refinement. Had she possessed early advan- tages of education equal to those enjoyed by young ladies o( her own rank at the present day, I think she would have shone a star of the first magnitude As it was, there were few among her numerous acquaintances who did not feel that they might sit at her feet, and learn lessons of heavenly wisdom more valuable than all that the schools can supply. The punctuality, neatness, and love of order, which dis- tinguished our friend, have been alluded to in the Memoir; but, for the sake of others, I wish to dwell a moment on the subject here. There are some who, in many respects, 86 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. are kindred spirits with Mrs. Prior, who think attention to these things incompatible with nobler pursuits, and their influence and usefulness are abridged accordingly. But amid all the labors and duties which filled up her time (and ft'w have lived more literally for others), she always found time for scrupulous attention to personal neatness and propriety of appearance, and she always kept her ap- pointments. I have often seen her wait patiently for others, but in the whole course of our acquaintance never knew others to wait for her. Is net this example worthy of general imitation ? If I have forebome to speak particularly of the Christian character of Mrs. Prior, it is because others, who wrote previously, have dwelt upon it at large ; and my object is simply to add a few sketches to the outline already drawn. It was deep piety that made her what she was ; it was this that impelled and sustained her in her self-denying course. To use her own expressive language, she went out filled with the love of God, and after pouring it out all day in her intercourse with others, she returned home wearied and empty, until, by communion with her Father in heaven, she received fresh supplies from that exhaustless fountain, and forgot both trials and fatigue. Happy, happy spirit ! thou hast rested from thy labors, and thy works follow thee. We bless God for the grace that shone so conspicuously in thee, and in the patience of faith would walk in thy foot- steps, until we too are caUed to partake of thy blessedness in our Father's house. S. T. Martyn. Thk extracts from Mrs. Prior's journal, commenced on the next page, embrace a period of al)out five years, extending from the winter of 1637 to 1842. Where dates are wanting, the omission is chargeable to neglect in recording them at the time. It is but just to say, that these extracts comprise less than half the material that we have on hand, and may only be regarded as specimens of her manner of laboring, with tiie subsequent results. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 87 CHAPTER VI. Case of a dying wife who hud sold her soul.— Two youn? women saved from suicide.— Interview with a family ot Jews.— Deserted wife.— Admonitions in a quilling room.— Hopeful conversion of a young lady.— Conversion of a Catholic— The end of an actress.— Conversion of an aged sinner.— A rich poor disciple.— Life threatened.— Poor fami- ly relieved.— Deplorable case of intemperance.— Happy death.— The dying infidel.— Wife of Lawyer F . — Ill- gotten gain.— Providential hicident.— Sufferings of the poor relieved. Case of a dy ing -wife. — This mornmg a woman whose character had been suspicions before her marriage, was extre\nely ill, and her aunt who knew me sent a request that I would come and pray with her. Her husband was a universalist. They had this world's goods, and that was their portion. I found her very low and in great dis- tress of body and mind. She uttered again and again, " / can not die ! I can not leave my husband and my babe !" I conversed with her, and was proposing prayer, when the husband interposed and said, " You need not pray for her, she has no sin to answer for, and is as fit to die as you are." Just then the physician came in, and after seeing her a moment, told her frankly, " You can not hve 88 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. an hour." With the greatest consternation she exchiimed, If I can not live an hour I am lost ! I have sold my soul to the devil for dress .' Pray for me ! Oh, pray for me ! all who can, do pray !" While uttering these and similar expressions, the chill of dissolution came over her — her counte- nance was changed, and her voice silenced in death. Sometime after the breath had ceased, the blood gushed copiously from the mouth and nose, and though we knew this was not uncommon in similar cases, yet it rendered the scene more awfully impressive. The husband did not now refuse us the privilege of calling upon the name of the Lord, and he probably felt though, he did not confess it, that the hour of death is full of ter- ror to those without hope. An unhappy mother called to-day and related the afflicting circumstances in which she was placed, and requested some aid in her attempts to find a poor lost daughter. She said she had four children, lived in a miserable basement in Church street, and obtained bread for her family by selling small articles in the market. Her eldest daughter was away, and she had been in the habit of leav- ing the second girl (who was in her fifteenth year) to look after two young children, while she went out to attend to her business. Some weeks since, she came home at night as usual, and to her surprise and grief, found this daughter raissmg. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 89 She soon learned from the neighbors sufRcient to satisfy her, that she had been decoyed away through the artifices of a vile woman who lived near. She had sought her in different parts of the city, but as yet utterly in vain. She seem- ed to think that in some places to which she had been directed, the child had been secreted and a story framed to deceive her. Her heart seemed agonized in view of the condition of her wretched lost one, and how could it be otherwise. Truly this " mother's feelings could not be conceived, but by a mother." From her conversation one would suppose that she found some consolation in God, in this hour of darkness. If this were a solitary- instance it would be well, compared with the case as it is. 'I'wo poor young creatures have been found by the visiters the last week, whose mothers are probably igno- rant of their residence or the circumstances in which they are kept. ******** Two young women saved from suicide. — As I was passing through my district yesterday, a lady accosted me and inquired my name — also, if I was connected with the society who had opened a register of direction for respectable females. Some one had so Avell described my person that she was not mistaken in the individual she sought. She stated that two young girls, in whom she felt much WALKS OF USEFULNESS. interested, were without emplo}-ment, in debt for their board, and so reduced to want that they had threatened to drown themselves, unless some relief was afibrded. They had been working for houses in the southern trade, until the great failures, and since could get nothing to do ; were boarding with a widow who could ill afford to keep them without compensation ; and she feared they might be led to some fatal step unless something was done for them soon. I took the number of their resi- dence, called on them, and learned their true con- dition ; conversed wi^h them kindly and faithfully, and endeavored to convince them that they needed a Savior to shield them from impending woes, both temporal and eternal. Have to-day succeeded in placing them in families where they will be under Christian influence, with the prospect of a competent support. I felt greatly encouraged by this and other providences, and can truly say that every day's experience confirms the impression, that efforts for prevention promise more than any other ; and instead of being lessened should be in- creased a hundred fold. Interview with a family of Jews. — Near S. Church I was sent for, to visit an aged but pious woman, who had dislocated her hip by a severe fall, and was in consequence confined to her bed. The daughter, who supported her mother by the avails of her industry, sent for me to ask advicQ WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 91 respecting the course she should pursue. She could not leave her work to take care of her moth- er, without giving up the means of obtaining their daily subsistence, and she was utterly unable to hire a nurse to take care of her. God has more than once made me a mouth for the poor, and when I stated this case to some wealthy families in the neighborhood, my calls for relief were promptly met. Calling at one stately edifice near, I found it occupied by intelligent and benevolent Jews. I was conducted to an upper room where I found a mother, grandmother, and great-grand- mother. The room was hung round w4th ancient pictures, according well with the appearance of its occupants. The Lord prepared the way for me to converse freely with them respecting Jesus Christ and his salvation. The old ladies entirely rejected me, and expressed themselves strong in the faith of a Messiah yet to come ; still they treated me with great politeness. When I left, the younger lady accompanied me down stairs and then stated that she did not believe as her friends did ; that the word of Jesus affected her much ; that she often prayed to him in her heart, and longed for the day to come when she might teach him to her children, but was not yet sufficiently strong. I left, with an invitation to call again, and much encouraged with the hope that the redemp- tion of this ancient people of God is drawing nigh. 92 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. A deserted wife. — May I4th. Some time since, when visiting in street, I called at a house of respectable ajipcarance, and as no one came to the door, I opened it, and entered without invita- tion. The mistress of the house was alone, and confined to the bed by disease, and anguish of mind. Struck with the distress visible in her countenance, I apologized for my abrupt entrance, and expressed a wish to converse with her on the concerns of her soul. She answered me, " I thank you for the kindness of your intentions, and were I less miserable, might wish to converse with you, but no one can comfort me. My case is beyond the reach of human help, and I only wish to be left alone with my sorrows." After a short time, however, she became more composed, and told me the tale of her domestic unhappiness ; for the voice of sympathy was so strange to her that it seemed to open her heart, and win her en- tire confidence. Her husband had become a fre- quenter of the theatre, and kindred establishments ; and though they were in comfortable circumstan- ces, yet his life of profligacy drew so largely on his resources, that his wife and family were often in absolute want of the necessaries of life. This is by no means an isolated fact. In my visits through this great city, cases similar to this are almost constantly coming under my notice, where the husband and father, the son or brother, has WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 93 been led astray and ruined by a fondness for the- atrical amusements. Could the virtuous ladies who go to the theatre see, at one glance, the thou- sands of their sex who are weeping in desolate places over their blasted hopes and ruined pros- pects, in consequence of this demoralizing institu- tion, they would surely turn from this gateway of perdition with unmingled horror. It is not in the heart of woman to remain unmoved, when she sees the innocent suffering for the crimes of the guilty. ******** I gave the poor invalid above alluded to all the advice and consolation in my power, and left her to the solitary- indulgence of her grief. How truly miserable is the condition of those who have not the consolations of religion, when all earthly hopes are thus taken from them! — All here is gloom, and a still thicker darkness covers futurity, so that the poor sufferer can find no ray of consolation wherever she turns for relief. May the Star of Bethlehem arise on her benighted soul, and guide it to the haven where alone is to be found perfect rest and peace ! Admonitions in a quilting-room. — 15^A. Seven months since, when visiting in street, I found in one house ten or twelve young ladies seated round a quilting-frame. They were all in the bloom of youth and health, and gayly dressed, as if for a ball. I entered into conversation with the 94 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. mistress of tlio lioiise, and requested hor to take the paper. She tolJ me she would receive it willingly, but was unable to read. The young ladies seemed inelined to ridicule all that was said, and considerable disorder prevailed in the room for a few moments. I addressed them very pointedly, warned them of the coming wrath, an(' pressed upon them the duty of immediate repent ance. From the appearance of this family, m\ suspicions were aroused, and I inquired of a neigh bor concerning their character. She told me they were not absolutely vicious, but given up to vanity and the pleasures of the world, and careless with regard to the company they kept. To-day, think ing it desirable to go over the scene of my former labors, and see if any fruit was visible, I entered this neighborhood again. In one house, where I supposed myself among strangers, I was recognised by a young girl, who expressed great pleasure at seeing me again. She reminded me of the scene around the quilting-frame, and said the remarks, then made, were sent by the Spirit directly to hei heart. The convictions thus fastened upon her mind never left her until she was brought to the foot of the cross as a helpless, undone sinner. She is now a member of the church, and seems to be an active, promising young Christian. What en- couragement does this fact present to the faithful exertions of tract visiters, who may by a word in WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 95 season save a soul from death, and hide a multi- tude of sins. " In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thy hand, for thou knowest not which shall prosper, this or that." Conversion of a Catholic. — 11 th. Greatly strengthened and encouraged by the answer to prayer mentioned under my last date, I went out, not knowing whither the Lord would lead me. In street, near Broadway, I found some time since, in a large house where every room was occupied by a different family, a very interesting young female, whose little children (twins) were both sick. She seemed willing to converse, and told me with tears that she would pray, but was unable to find time to read her prayer-book, for she was a Catholic. Her youthful and lovely ap- pearance interested me deeply, and I inquired into her former history. She is a well-educated and highly respectable woman from Ireland, and hav- ing formed no acquaintances among her inferior neighbors, she is desolate indeed. She said she was reaping the bitter fruits of disobedience to parents, as she had married a young man who lived in her father's family, and fled with him to this country. He could now get very little em- ployment, and they were suffering for the neces- saries of life. I spent several hours with her, and begged of her to repent, and humble herself before God, and her parents, as that sin seemed to lie so 96 WALKS OF USKFULXESS, heavy on her heart ; assuring her that God would teach lier to pray without a prayer-book, if she would look to him for direction and assistance. Since that time I have visited her repeatedly, and have been enabled to be of some service to her in her poverty and affliction. To-day she met me whh a cheerful, happy countenance, and told me what the Lord had done for her soul. " He has taught me to pray without my book, and I can now have comfort all the time, even when my hands are occupied with my sick children. I now feel the justice of all I have suffered, and am willing to humble myself before my offended parents, and submit entirely to their will." I requested her to write immediately to her parents, and state her situation without reserve, and promised to unite with her in pleading at the throne of grace for a favorable answer to her petition to be received again by them as a child. When I left her, my heart was raised to God in devout thanksgiving, that the bread thus cast on the waters, had been found before " many days." Let no Christian despise the day of small things. To the eye of sense, the daily visits of a few weak females, seems a feeble instrumentality to move on such a mass of sin and corruption as this city presents ; but if angels rejoice over one sinner that repents, there is much to excite our gratitude and joy in the results of this system of visitation. The Lord WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 97 alone hath done it ; to his holy name be all the glory ! The end of an actress. — " The Theatre was from tlie very first The favorite haunt of sin ; the' honest men, Some very honest, wise, and worthy mt;n, Maintained it might be turned to good account ; And so perhaps it might ; but never was. From first to last it was an evil place." — Polloic. June Ibth. iVs I was conversing with a woman on the second floor of a dwelling in street, this morning, my attention was attracted by a sound of distress, that seemed to issue from the room below. I was informed that it had been heard at intervals for several days, but that the door had been closed upon all who attempted to enter. I descended the steps, and desired admis- sion, but was refused. I then demanded it, say- ing in a decided tone, if it was not granted, I would go immediately to a magistrate, whose duty it would be to open the door without permission, for I had heard groans that assured me there was distress within. Presently the door was opened, and I entered an empty, desolate looking room, and saw before me the wreck of what had once been an intelli- gent and beautiful woman. After speaking kindly to her, I ascertained that her sister was very ill in an adjoining apartment, and was permitted to see her. I found her on a pallet of straw, on the 9 38 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. floor of a cold, dark, filthy room, very ill indeed, and " apparently near to death. Intense suffering caused the groans we had heard. She was ra- tional, and seemed grateful that I had found her. There was not a chair in the room, but I bent over her low couch, and talked to her of the love of Jesus, and her poor soul. She appeared like a convicted sinner, and desired earnestly that 1 would pray with her ; and if ever the Spirit helped my infirmities, it was at this hour. The veil seemed removed that hides Eternity from the eye of the mind : I viewed the poor dust before me as "the food of worms," but the spirit! O the iindy- ing spirit ! and the deeds of a life now almost over, would fix the impress upon its eternal desti- ny. The importance of livin<{, and of dying — how it looks when life is waning, and the taper just about to expire I learned before leaving this poor sufferer, that the sister who refused to let me in, was a violent opposer to religion. She had seen worldly good, but it had vanished ; and her extreme poverty was so mortifying to her pride, that she allowed no one to enter her doors. She had been a noted actress^ and the theatre had proved her ruin. What a pic- ture was here presented of the tendency of theatri- cal amusements ! I left, promising, in compliance with her request, to call again. Conversion of an aged sinner. — 16th. In one of WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 99 my visiting excursions four months since, I met with a very aged sinner, who was both naturally md spiritually blind. Her friends and children were all Universalists. I conversed and prayed with her — and read to her from the word of the Lord, " Except a man be born again, he can not >ee the kingdom of God." This declaration of Christ was accompanied by the convicting energy of the Holy Spirit, and fastened upon her con- science till it robbed her of her rest, and she be- gan to seek in earnest for the pearl of great price. I visited her many times, and found her week after week, much affected in view of her sins, but unwilling to believe the precious truth, " He is able to save to the uttermost, all who come unto God by Him." To-day have had the inexpressible pleasure of finding her clothed and in her right mind, sitting at the feet of Jesus. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, praise his Holy name. I do indeed feel, that it is an unspeakable privi- lege to be made a servant of souls. My faith and hope in God are strong and unwavering. " Veri- ly He will rejoice the soul of his servant, and none that trust in him shall be desolate." A rich poor disciple. — 17 th. To-day have met with an interesting family in B street, two of whom have been recently converted to God. The circumstances of their case were very peculiar. 100 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. Their simple story is briefly this. The times were bad, and they felt unable to pay the rent of all their rooms, and let one of them to a poor wo- man whose husband was in the country'. They did not know how very poor she was, nor that she was a Christian. She had not been with them long, before at stated times every day, they heard her voice as if in prayer to God. This annoyed them so much, that they wished, most heartily, that she was out of their house. One night, hear- ing her voice as usual, they listened at her door, and heard her praying the Lord to quiet her hun- gry childrcji (they were crying for bread, and she had none to give tliem) ; — and presently again they heard her praising the Lord, for his mercy, that her little ones had forgotten their troubles, and were quietly asleep. This was loud preaching to them, and the con- viction of her sincerity forced itself upon them, also the reality of that religion they had so much despised. The result was, they were brought to repent ance, and led to exercise faith in a risen Savior. They now unite in thanking the Lord that this good woman ever came under their roof. Soon after the change in their feelings, they sought an acquaintance with her, assisted in supplying her wants, and consider themselves repaid four-fold for their charities, by the Christian intercourse WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 101 thus enjoyed. In hearing this relation, I could not help feeling, that if the professors of religion in our city would but manifest the consistency, and exercise the faith, of this poor humble disci- ple, our Redeemer would be honored, and heaven filled with new themes of praise, by the conver- sion of multitudes around us. Nov. 20th. Visited the sick woman referred to under date of Nov. 15th. Found her near to death, and gained some satisfaction with reference to her hopes beyond the grave. She had felt at times for a day or two, willing to die, and then again as her sins appeared in dread array, there was an awful fear of standing at the bar of a holy God. Before her departure, however, she seemed to cast herself upon the Savior, and expressed a desire to depart, that she might see him as he is, Her end was peaceful, and the hope is cherished that prayer was heard in her behalf. Some weeks since, as I was visiting in one of my districts in the upper part of the city, I was led to speak plainly and faithfully to a man who had a family, but was known to be keeping a mis- tress at the same time. My age made me feel that as he was thrown in my way, there was no impropriety in attempting to set his sin before him. But it provoked his anger and he repeatedly threatened my life. I have since avoided the vicinity of his residence, until this morning. I 9* 102 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. received a note requesting me to call immediately to see a sick man who was not expected to live. I saw by the No. that it was very near the house of Mr. . My courage was rather weak, for the request was so unusual, that I feared lest a plot had been laid to ensnare me. After com- mending the case to God, I went as requested, and was glad to learn that my fears had been groundless. I found a man and his wife in great distress, in the attic of the house to which I had been direct- ed. The husband had been given over by his physicians, and he felt that his preparation for death had not been begun. "0!" said he, ''pray for me ! I can not die, / am not fit to die /" The agony of his mind, and the distress of his poor wife made the scene truly affecting. A brand plucked from the burning. — 29tli. Met with a woman who informed me that the departed McDowall had been the means of her temporal and eternal salvation. She spoke of him with much emotion, and after some hesitation, proceed- ed to tell me something of her history. She stated that she was on the point of establishing a house of ill-fame, when, most providentially, she heard him preach on the seventh commandment. The sermon was to her as " a nail in a sure place." She immediately abandoned he<- purpose, and has since sought an honest living, by honest means. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 103 She liow keeps a respectable boarding-house, is a reguUr subscriber to the Advocate, and appears to feci bound by ten thousand obligations to do all iD her power for the advancement of moral purity. A few doors from this I entered a dwelling, and found a number of sailors sitting together, appa- rently unoccupied. I gave to each of them a tract, and conversed with them about their soul's salvation. One of ihem said to his companions, " Be quiet, that I ff.fty hear all this lady says, she puts me so in mind of my dear mother." " Then y^ou had a praying mother, had you ?" " Yes," he replied, and his heart was touched to tender- ness. I learned from him that he attended the Mari- >iers' church. At his request I gave him some copies of the Advocate to read. Dec. blh. Found to-day an afflicted woman ^whose husband was daily spending his small earn- ings at a porter-house, while he knew that she was suffering for the necessaries of life. Not- withstanding this severe trial, she seemed to pos- sess " a calm and heavenly frame." She informed me that her extreme poverty had driven her to Christ — said, his presence and his word afforded a consolation and blessedness, such as the world could neither give nor take away. Poor family relieved. — 1th. The Lord has en- abled me this day to administer again to the wants 101 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. of the wretched, and my soul bears witness to the truth of his own precious words, " It is more blessed to give than to receive." One object of our charities was a family residing in street. They were found in a dark basement. The sick mother, with an infant, was lying in a miserable crib, without necessary bedding, and several small children were supplying a half worn out sheet- iron stove with shavings, which v as all the fuel their means aflordod. The husband and father had been removed by death a few days since When I endeavored to express the sympathy that was awakened in view of their suffering condition, the poor woman seemed much affected, and said she considered her afflictions but the fruit of her disobedience. She had been tenderly brought up, and from her youth had realized the necessity of a change of heart, but had resisted the strivings of the spirit till now. I read to her from the word of the Lord, " They that seek shall find," &c. After directing her attention to the friend of sinners, I went to a benevolent lady living near, and informed her of the situation of this mother and children. She very kindly returned with me, and supplied their present wants liberally from her own purse. If all to whom the Lord has given an abundance, would follow the example of this good woman, how many in our city would rise up and call them blessed. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 105 Deplorable case. — \4th. I was invited by a Christian friend to call on a woman who was literally drinking herself to death. I went as re- quested, and found the scene too painful to de- scribe. A fellow-being and a woman was before us, upon her bed, with a pitcher of brandy by her side, and three or four drunken companions around her. All were so intoxicated that expostulation was useless. In passing out, we saw the man at " the bar" dealing out his " distilled death" to customers, and inquired of him if the woman with- in was his wife ? " Yes," he said. " And, do you know," I inquired, " that she is supplied with. liquor by the pint ?" " Yes." " Do you mean to kill her ?" " She will have it," was the reply, *' or scream so that it takes three or four to hold her." " But you could send her to the asylum, and must do so, or it will be my duty to complain of you." He bid me mind my business, which I assured him I should do, as that would be my busi- ness if he persisted. Happy death. — I8th. Another trophy of the mercy of the Lord may h% recorded this day. I was invited, some time since, to visit a yoimg girl in feeble health, whose mother was im- penitent. The state of her mind was interest- ing. She desired prayer, and was grateful for religious instructior. I went once again, and presently found her a subject of pungent conviction. 106 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. A lew days after, she was rejoicing in the love of Christ, and the change was indeed glorious. She sent for her young companions, prayed with and for them, and exhorted them earnestly not to defer repentance. She has to-day put on immor- tality, and we trust death is swallowed up in vic- tory. She prayed for our society with her dying breath, giving thanks to the dear Savior for making the unworthy visiter the means of her conversion. To his name alone be praise. The mother appears deeply anxious about her own salvation, and seems to be just upon the point of submitting her heart to God. The dying infidel— Jan. \Qth, 1838. Was in- vited by a lady to call on a family who kept a porter-house near Waverley Place. As she was young, she desired some one of my age to go to this place rather than herself. A father and son were there, verj' ill, and near to death. I obtain- ed permission to see them, and found the son an infidel. I drew a chair near his bed-side, and tried to talk to him ^about salvation. He looked wildly, and said in an angry tone, " If I could reach my cane, I would put you down stairs." " He did not want any preaching," as he called it. " When he wanted preaching, he went to Tammany Hall.** The name of God or Christ seemed to fill him with rage. It is the opinion of his physician that he can not live. I left him and entered the ad- WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 107 joining room, where his poor father was confined with consumption, apparently in the last stage. My feelings had so overpowered me that I could not speak for weeping. I made some apology to the sick man, saying " The infidelity of your son has quite overcome me and added, that " it was astonishing that one so young could be thus in- fluenced by such principles." The father was afiected, and blamed himself, as well he might, for the sin of his child ; confessed that he had led him in the way to death, and said " he was distressed about his own soul, but God was afar off." After a season of prayer, I left him with a heavy heart, fearing I should see him and the un- happy son on the left hand of the Judge. The wife and mother was engaged in supplying cus- tomers at the bar ; she did it, as she said, for a liv- ing. I expostulated with her, but to little purpose. Wife of Lawyer F ; * * * * " And sorrow oft By man inflicted on his brother man ; Sorrow that made tlie reason drunk, and yet Left much untasted — so the cup was filled ; Sorrow that, like an ocean, dark, deep, rough, And shoreless, roUed its billows o'er the soul Perpetually, and without hope of end."— Pollok. 24th. Met with a subscriber in 13th street, whose heart is much enlisted in the cause of reform. She invited me to a room, on the second floor, and in- troduced me to a sick lady, as one of the visiting committee of the F. M. R. Society. She was 108 WALKS OF USEFUr.N'ESS. young, of a lovely countenance, and very diffident and retiring in her manner ; was in a decline, and her symptoms foreboded a speedy dissolution. Her mind appeared tender ; she wept as I spoke of a dying hour, and confessed that she was un- prepared. She seemed grateful for my call, and desired me to come again. The lady of the house, with whom she boarded, made me ac- quainted with the peculiar circumstances of her case, which are briefly these : She called at her house with her husband, Lawyer F , about six months since, and requested board. They wished to board in a private family, and as their appearance was respectable, Mrs, consented to receive them. The health of the lady was then good, and if the canker was corroding at the heart, it was buried so deep as not to be perceived. She occasionally observed with solicitude, her husband had very little business. Some time since, it was ascertained that his evenings were spent in gambling and other scenes of dissipation. The wife sufiered in silence. Her external wants were well supplied ; her rooms furnished in good taste, and a stranger would not have selected her as one among the children of affliction. The family with whom they boarded had an oppor tunity to witness, from day to day, the cause of her grief and her malady. She had never spoken of her unfaithful husband but in terms of WALKS OF USEFULNKSS. 109 tenderness and affection. This he well knew ; but he had become wedded to the gainbling-room and the theatre, and every better feeling of his heart was so perverted that he could see the worthy companion of his youth wasting away by fell disease, and, knowing that his conduct was the fatal cause, pass on apparently without com- punction or remorse. The lady remarked that he had paid his board bill regularly, but she would not have such a monster in her house were it not for his sick wife, who was too ill to be removed. Since Mrs. F had been under the care of a physiciftn, he had gone by request to the druggist's for medicine, and instead of returning to adminis- ter it, had made his way to the theatre, and spent ihe evening, till the midnight hour, in sin and fol- ly. This unhappy woman is hastening to an early grave without hope. Her friends in the countrj' are not apprized of her condition ; they suppose her husband is ail to her which his voluntary and most sacred obligations require, and could they know his perfidy, parental and fraternal love would wrest this daughter from his hands, if it were not too late to save her. Should this page meet his eye, may it awaken reflection, and lead a guilty conscience to perform its office. Let the many who, like Mr. F , sustain the relation of husband, and yet in heart and life, are traitors to their solemn vows, remember there is a day at 10 110 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. hand that will strike terror to their inmost souls. He who is their lawgiver and judge will repay rec- ompense. Here the oppressor may be shielded by human institutions, and the oppiessed find none to redress their wrongs ; but there the tables will be turned, and the responsibility of all the social relations will be iully appreciated. Feb. 22(1. Have spent most of this day in re- porting the cases of the suffering poor to the ward committees, whose duty it is to provide for their relief. As the funds arc becoming diminished, many applicants are unheeded, unless some friend makes known their case for them. Indeed, the provision that has been made, does not begin to meet the wants of the destitute in several of the wards, and is but a mere apology for present re- lief. One aged and deserving woman informed me that she had stood from 9 till 12 o'clock, wait- ing by the door, in the cold, for the crowd to dis- perse, in order that she might obtain her allow- ance of potatoes, and was then obliged to go away empty. She was destitute of fuel and food, and ready to fold her hands in despair. The unex- pected relief which the Lord enabled me to pro- cure, changed her tears of anguish to those of joy and gratitude. The case of this helpless widow is admilar in kind to that of thousands. Employment not now to be had, even for those who have ever before been able to obtain an honest living — WALKS OF USEFULNESS. Ill and where Christian principle is wanting, and children are to be supported, many are left to com- ply with temptations, from which, in other circum- stances, they would have shrunk with horror. Ill-gotten gain. — 24M. In Fourteenth street was made acquainted with the situation of a mother, who, with an infant and several little ones, was in feeble health, and suffering from want. After the usual civilities were exchanged, she inquired with earnestness if I knew her, and gave her name. I remembered her well — had known her in better days. Her father was wealthy, but had acquired his property by vending ardent spirits. He gave this daughter a handsome sum at her marriage. Her husband engaged in business, but failed — could not rise again, and became disheartened. He had no religion, and sought an antidote for his troubles in the porter-hovses of the neighborhood. The remainder of his story, and that of his help- less family, can be easily anticipated. During the winter this afflicted woman has been reduced to such straits, that she has been obliged to disguise herself as a common beggar, and go to respectable families and solicit bread for her starving children. Her poverty had led her to seek for durable riches and righteousness. She was perusing her Bible with interest, and earnestly inquiring the way of salvation, but was not a child of the covenant, and had never heard the voice of prayer within hei 112 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. father's doors. She remarked with tears, " the curse is not removed," " iniquities are visited,'^ &c. (referring to the ill-gotten gain of her father, and the use that had been made of it by her in- temperate husband). My visit here was cruly providential, and by calling on some distant rela- tives of the family, and stating their wants, assist- ance was immediately obtained. ProvidcnLial incident. — " Whence learned she this? O she was innocent— And to be innocent is Nature's wisdom : The Hedged dove knows the prowlers of the air, Feared soon as seen, and flutters back to shelter. " 0, surer than suspicion's hundred eyes Is that fine sense wiiich to the pure in heart By mere opugnancy of their own goodness Reveals the approach of evil." — Coleridge. 2bth. I was led to visit some eight or ten fami- lies in the east {)ari of the city, residing in the vicinity of the late fire. I inquired respecting the condition of the hundreds whose homes were burned up, and where they lived ? In one place, was informed that a woman and child, who had lost all, were in a room above, but as she kept closed doors, I probably could not see her. Sup- posing I should not be refused, I went to her door, and after several raps, by saying in a raised tone, " an old lady who is a friend wishes to come in,'* I was admitted. She appeared diffident and agi- tated, but gave me a seat, and soon became com- posed. I spoke kindly of her losses, and inquired WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 113 for her husband. At this she began to weep, and said, that previous to the fire he went west to pur- chase lands, and had not yet returned. They were housekeeping, and she was left in the care of an old gentleman and lady under the same roof, who were very kind to her, until their mutual misfor- tunes had made them homeless. In the midst of the calamity, while the flames were raging, and she was standing with her little one, not knowing where to go, a woman, whose appearance was respectable, came to her, and in- vited her to her house. She accompanied her, and was provided with a room, and requested to stay till her husband's return. The offer was con- sidered generous, and accepted ; but she was very soon insulted, and had reason to suppose that the house, or the people in it, were of a character which she had not at first suspected. A man had been at the door of her room several times, and offered her money. She resented his baseness, and kept the door locked against him, but was trembling with fear at the approach of every foot- step. I inquired if she would like to leave, if I could get her a place to board, with some good family. She said modestly, " If I knew you" " but you too are a stranger." I satisfied her with- out difficulty as to that, and was enabled to encour- age her to put her trust in the Lord, and look to him for aid. I succeeded in procuring her a 10* 114 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. pleasant boarding-place with a sister in the church, and saw her removed without delay. My heart is glad in view of it — for I am conscious that through the mercy of God, this innocent female is now res- cued from those who were plotting her destruction. Sufferings of the poor relieved. — XAlh. Have visited during the past week about fifty families. It was satisfactory to see some, who had been as- sisted by us through the winter, now able to pro- vide for themselves, and thanking and praising the Lord for the timely aid they had received. One aged man and his wife, both of whom were upward of seventy, and who had three little grandchildren depending upon them, had subsisted principally by charity through the season. Their hearths seemed full of prayer and praise ; but whether they were serving Christ merely for the loaves and the fishes, we could not tell. They followed us out of the house, and implored for us the best of Heaven's blessings. At the next door, found a family in a most distressed condition. The father had died but a few days previous, and left a widow with four children. For a week they had lived only on a few potatoes, received from the w^ard committee. One little child of two years and a half had been sick for some weeks, and was pi- ning away from actual want. Their distress was alleviated for the time, and they were earnestly exhorted to seek the bread of life. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 115 At the farther extremity of a dark alley, and up two pair of outside stairs, so broken as hardly to afford a safe passage, we found a poor woman afflicted with rheumatism. She was lying upon the floor, with a log of wood for her pillow. She had been obliged to part with her bed, and most of her clothing, to procure bread ; and all she had left, which was a few old garments, she had spread under her on the floor, and over her hard pillow. She was evidently a great sufferer, but whether in consequence of vice, we were unable to determine. 116 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. CHAPTER VII. General results of personal effort. — Specific cases. — Interview with a Romanist. — Farther particulars with regard to Law- yer F . — Painful case of illness in a disreputable house. — Bockslider reclaimed. — The aged blind woman. — Lunatic re- stored. — Death of a woman who had been benefited by Mrs. Prior's labors. — Result of Fanny Wright's lectures. — Con- version of a wine merchant. — A daughter hopefully coo- verted, and family awakened. — Affecting history and death of an orphan. — Alliance of vice and misery.— Rough treat- ment. — Minister's daughter found in a house of infamy. — Mrs. Prior made prisoner. — Visit at the house of an infidel. — Hopeful conversion. — Young man from home. March, 1838. During the past three months, I have visited on an average, about three hundred and fifty families per month ; which makes the number visited during the winter more than a thousand. Many of these families have been found destitute of every comfort, and in many in- stances of nearly every necessary of life. To aid such, the rich have been applied to in person ; and in almost every instance, ready assistance has been afforded. Temporal wants have been sup- plied ; and in many cases, the truth of God having been communicated, the Spirit has applied it to the heart and conscience, and the result has been some most interesting conversions. Some who WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 117 had for a long time been prevented by poverty from attending the house of God, have had the word thus brought to their doors, and have accept- ed Christ, and through his righteousness, a few have gone out of the world, rejoicing in the hope of the glory of God. I was invited by a Christian friend, about a month since, to call at what is considered a decent porter-house, in Greenwich street, where the wife of the keeper of the establishment lay wasting with consumption, with none to care for her soul. Her husband was unwilling that any Christian minister should visit her, although she greatly desired it. Contrary to my expectation, I was admitted, and allowed to converse with her on the subject of re- ligion. I found her impressed with the importance of salvation, and ready at once to yield to the terms of the Gospel. She seemed with eagerness, and an uncommon strength of faith, to receive the Savior as her hope and portion. I have been allowed to visit her several times, and her situation in a room adjoining the bar of her husband's establishment, exposed to the con- fused sound of vulgar conversation, impious oaths, and the varied implements of the gambling table, awakened my commiseration to a degree which I could not but express to the husband. He how- ever took little notice of my request to have her removed to a more retired apartment Her cheer- 118 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. ful submission to these distressing circumstances, I felt might serve as a lesson to many who, while surrounded by everything desirable, are still dis- satisfied and repining. I had opportunity for much observation while visiting this place. I here learned the estimation in which porter-house friends hold each other. There was a sea captain who had been wealthy, and consequently courted by this fraternity, until his estates were wasted on their lusts, and wine, but who was now rudely driven from their doors. The wife remarked, that this man had spent hun- dreds at her husband's bar, but now he had noth- ing left to make his company desirable. She seemed to regret deeply their manner of life, but saw no way to remedy the evil, while her hus- band's heart remained unsanctified. Hope in death. — Another case of interest was that of Eliza J., a young girl who had come from service in a respectable family, where she had been abun- dantly supplied with the comforts of life, to the home of indigent parents, there to die with consumption. Her father made little or no provision for his fam- ily, an3 her mother, who had been supplied with little comforts from a share of her wages, was now left with her sick daughter entirely destitute. In these distressing circumstances, the poor girl found that she possessed an unsubmissive spirit, a temper altogether at variance with the arrange- WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 119 ments of Providence ; and out of these depths she called upon God to subdue sin in her soul, and he heard and delivered her. When I found her, she expressed her belief that the angel of mercy had sent me. The wants of her body were supplied, and her soul seemed filled with the fulness of God. It is some months since I first visited her, and though she had suffered greatly, and had been un- able during all this time to lie down, on account of the colleclion of phlegm in her throat, yet I felt it was truly good to sit and learn of her what God can do for the soul that trusts in him. She has now gone to her rest, the subject of a tri- umphant death, and doubtless of a glorious resur- rection. March. — Met with an interesting French family. It seems that the Lord had sent them to our shores, for the purpose of finding a Savior pre- cious. I felt, while telling them of Jesus, and trying to understand their broken English, that, truly, they were no more strangers and foreign- ers, but fellow-citizens, with the saints, and of the household of God." My heart was ready to leap for joy, at the evidence they all gave of being bom again. It is surely encouragement for us to labor for the poor immigrants in our city, of what- ever nation, or kindred, or tongue, they may be. The conversion of this whole family, has resulted 120 WALKS OK USEFULNESS. from the untiring efforts of the missionary employ- ed to labor among this class of our citizens. I gained strength and encouragement from this visit, and hope it was comforting and profitable to them. 29M. Visited a poor woman in Sixteenth-st., in distress. Her sufferings had been great since the distribution of food by the ward committees had ceased, and she knew of no means of relief. She had a daughter of fifteen years of age for whom I felt a deep interest. I took them home with me, and supplied their wants. Interview with a Romanist. — April 2d. Revisited some families in Sixteenth St., in company with a friend. Conversed with one woman, in whom I felt a special interest the first time I saw her. She was sick with inflammation of the throat, and the spirit of the Lord had been opening to her view the hidden iniquity of her own heart. She manifested much joy at seeing me, and desired to have me speak of the things she held in so much contempt at our last interview. She was an English woman, but attached to the church of Rome. I spoke of forgiveness of sin through the blood of Christ. She said she had just been con- fessing to the priest and had received absolution, but she found no relief ; her guilt rested upon her like a mountain weight. I directed her to tho Lamb of God, who is exalted to give repentance Walks or usefulness. 121 and remission of sins, and urged her io pray. She said she could not. Her throat Avas so much in- flamed as ahnost to deprive her of the power of speech, and her mind was greatly troubled in view af death, but after conversing with her a little longer, she broke out into one of the most affect- ing prayers I ever heard. Her husbarid sat by, listening to all that passed with apparent anxiety, lest she should be induced to abjure the catholic faith, and die out of the pale of the church. He interposed frequently, saying, " Good lady, we don't want you to teach us ; the priest instructs us all we want to be instructed." I replied that I had a message from God to her, and could not be pre- vented from delivering it. He left the room in anger. I have strong hopes, that this convicted sinner will soon place her trust in the sinner's only friend. Case of Lawyer F . — IS/'//. Information was communicated this morning that gladdens my lieart, and makes me willing to forget the trials of the way. Allusion is made under date of Jan. i6th, to a sick lady, wife of Lawyer F . The family with whom they were boarding have kindly given me the following sequel to her story. After my last interview with her, she continued gradual- ly to decline, until the messenger of death which had been long approaching, released her spirit from its frail tenement. She repeatedly expressed 122 WALKS OF USKFIJLNESS. gratitude for my visits to lier, and before her de^ parture, was enabled, through the grace of God, to rejoice in a good hope of eternal life. Her husband received from an unknown hand the paper containing the portraiture of his own character ; iu\d, after reading it, exhibited a burst of indigna- tion that threatened to expend itself, without mer- cy, upon " the old lady," as he called her, if he could learn her name. But the mild entreaties of his wife, as he saw her advancing to the grave, had more inliuence than he was willing to ac- knowledge. His railings against " the old lady" were silen- ced, and as he had no means of knowing where she was, and the interment of Mrs. F. called him to the country, he went away without inflicting meditated revenge. Not long since Mrs. received a letter from him, expressing his purpose not to return to the city, and also giving an interesting account of the present state of his mind. The letter states that the character given of him in the article alluded to, aflected him greatly. He was not at first prepared to believe himself so bad — but on re- flection found that the half had not been told. Once convinced of his guilt, he was resolved on a different course ; had taken the advice of his dying wife and left this city of temptation and highhanded wickedness ; and in the retirement of WALKS OF UbEFULNESS. 123 the country was seeking that tnie peace which the world can neither give nor take away. He request- oA Mrs. to remember him affectionately to that old lady, and thank her for her faithfulness. This unexpected intelligence awakened emotions more easily felt than expressed. I hoped the poor instrument had been owned and blessed, and could truly say from a full heart, to God alone be all the praise. Painful case. — " Virtue and vice had boundaries in old time, Not to be passed : and she tliat liad i-enounced Her sex's honor, was renounced herself By all that prized it ; not for prudery's sake, But dignity's, resentful of the wronj. 'Twas hard, perhaps, on here and there a waif. Desirous to return, and not received ; But 'twas a wholesome ri^or in the main, And taught the unblemished to preserve with care, That purity, whoso loss was loss of all." COWPER. 20^^. A pious lady called and requested me to go with her to E st., to assist in removing her sick niece from a house of death, to a place where she might with propriety be favored with Christian counsel, and efforts be made for the sal- vation of her soul. It was a sad errand, but we went together and performed the task. The house was large, and as we passed from room to room the looks of shame and sorrow that met us, were sufficient to draw pity from any heart that had 124 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. been wont to beat with a mother's or a sister's love. All the inmates were young — some less than 15 years of age. When the misery of their con- dition was alluded to, several wept, and expressed a wish that they had never been in existence, but said their case was now hopeless. They were told of a way to escape and urged to embrace it ; but it was apparently as much in vain as preaching \o the spirits in prison. It was a touching fact, that a majority of their number were orphans or fatherless. The poor sufferer whose case had brought us there was wasting away with consump- tion. To my inquiries respecting how she came here, her aunt replied briefly, that she was the only daughter of a beloved sister, long since laid in the grave ; that she had now no near relations but herself, and that in this season of extremity she hp.d desired her aid. When quite young she was extravagantly fond of balls, parties, and other vain amusements, and allowed to go and come as she pleased. Several years since she received the addresses of a young gentleman, and, under promise of marriage, was seduced and ruined. Her downward progress for a time was gradual, but recently it had been more rapid. She sup- ported an infant son for a year or two, by means of her needle, but afterward abandoned herself to vice. This child is now seven years old, has been boarded in a respectable family by his moth- WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 125 er, and knows not that she has ever swerved from the path of rectitude. The aunt seemed to be ac- tuated only by Christian principle in her conduct toward this unfortunate relative. In speaking of lier own children, she remarked that the fall of their poor cousin had ever been a beacon of warn- ing, and she had only to point to her to produce aversion to the theatre or the ball-room, or to in- duce a ready compliance with her requirements. How many families may profit by such painful ex- amples, if tlfey will. Backslider reclaimed. — Visiting S. street, during the month of January, I met with a young lady whose mind seemed to be bordering on despair. My efforts to encourage or comfort were apparent- ly fruitless. She had been a professor of religion but had fallen into temptation, had lost sight of Christ as her only hope, had begun to neglect secret duties, and was even unwilling to kneel for prayer. On Monday, May 21st, I met her in the street. Her countenance beamed with joy as she communicated to me the precious intelligence, that she had returned to the Good Shepherd, and been received into his fold. The conversation which took place at our interview, had been the means of arousing her to a sense of duty, and the divine blessing had accompanied her efforts to perform it. She was rejoicing in being permitted anew to taste the loving kindness of her God. 11* 126 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. The family referred to in the Advocate of April 15t.h under date of March 20th, as keeping a por- ter-house in Greenwich street, were visited this week. The woman who was then so low, has been numbered with the dead, and her husband has relinquished his establishment, and is now engaged in business of a most reputable kind. He met me with much kindness, and introduced me to his mother, who now has charge of his family, as a kind friend who had visited his wife in sickness, but whose visits he had not fully ' appreciated. Thus three children, in answer to the prayers of a dying mother, were removed from the baleful in- fluence of this haunt of dissipation. Aged blind woman. — May 28th. A pious friend called, desiring me to go with her to visit a very aged blind woman. She had been almost a hun- dred years a sojourner in this vale of tears. I found her surrounded by a large family of children and children's children, who were visiting her, with the expectation that she would soon ter- minate her pilgrimage. She expressed herself gratified with the visit of one who cared for her soul, and asked with much apparent earnestness \ if it was not too late for her to apply for mercy. I mentioned to her the case of the blind man by the way-side, and recommended her with my whole heart, to the same Savior, the friend of sin- ners, as willing and able to save to the uttermost WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 127 all that come unto God by him. I asked her how it was, that when surrounded by so many bless- ings, she could so have neglected the God of her mercies ? She remarked that she had been wait- ing for some special influences of the Spirit to constrain her to repent ; but she had found at this late hour that she must apply herself to Christ. She said that the preaching she had heard had not reached her soul, and she now desired to see some Christian female who knew by experience the value of a Savior, that she might open her heart to her, and obtain instruction. With strong crying and many tears she threw herself upon her knees and exclaimed, " Blessed Jesus, dear Sa- vior, canst thou have compassion on such an old sinner as I am ?" I prayed with her, and my faith took hold of the throne of the Eternal. A young man, who told me he was the great-grandson of this aged lady, entered the room immediately after the prayer, and I could not help inviting him, also, to come to the Savior. His case was the reverse of his aged parent. She seemed to be willing to be acted upon, while he was secure in the belief that he could at any moment repent and secure liis salvation. I endeavored to be faithful to him, and left them with a firm hope that the old lady, at least, would make Christ her all. Lunatic restored. — June \st. I called on a poor family mentioned in the paper of May 1 , in which 128 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. was a lunatic, who, when I asked permission lo pray, caught the word and continued to repeat it at different times, until the Lord was pleased to restore her reason, and with it the communication of his Spirit. She died a few weeks since with her hopes centred on the Rock of Ages. The mother now seems desirous to know and love the Savior. Death of a woman who had been henejited by Mrs. Prior'' s labors. — July \bth. Sometime last winter I called upon a sick woman, whose husband was so intemperate, that he made very little provision for his family. The woman needed many comforts, and while I attempted to supply them, I inquired if she knew aught of the comforts of religion. She professed to be very good, but I soon discovered that it was her own righteousness in which she trusted ; and so well satisfied was she of security by the deeds of the law, that the provision of the gospel in her view seemed quite unnecessary. I frequently vis- ited her, however, and tried to pray ; but the cir- cumstances of the case seemed greatly to diminish the hope of usefulness, and prayer seemed a bur- den, until the Lord was pleased to send his Spirit to convict of unrighteousness, and to set her sins in order before her ; then she earnestly desired that I would pray, and the Spirit gave freedom of utterance. She at length found peace in beliering. WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 129 I state this for the encouragement of those who may be placed in like circumstances. Nothing is too hard for the Lord. In this case I was ready to despair of any degree of usefulness to this wo- man ; and just while hesitating what step to take, that she should not die in this delusion, I was called out of town. While absent, as if to show that he can work and none hinder, the Lord sent his Spirit to operate savingly upon her heart. I found, on my return, a message for me to call im- mediately. I went to the house, and found her dead. The husband spoke of the funeral. No preparation had been made, except that liquor had been provided for the occasion. I told him if he would return the liquor, I would get a licensed preacher, and bring some pious friends, and he might invite the neighbors to hear a sermon. This he consented to do, and I at- tempted to perform my part. There was a liquor store below, where I went to plead that tliey would close their doors, and come in to hear the word of the Lord. After much urginof, the bar- tender consented for one hour to withhold the cup from his neighbor's mouth, and listen to the truth. We had a solemn meeting, and the husband, who had not heard a sermon in twenty years, with many rough-looking companions, had solemn and impor- tant truth brought home to their ears. May the \ IJO WALKS OF USEFULNESS. Lord grant liis word success, and snatch these hardened sinners from ruin, while they are where prayer may yet be heard. Injluence of Fanny Wriglit^s lectures. — "How shocking must thy summons be, O Death, To him who is at ease in his possessions I Who, counting- on long years of pleasure here, Is quite unfurnished for the world to come." Aug. l]tli. 'j'o-dny, after calling on a family in street, I was led to visit others in several large dwellings near by. In one of them, alter conversing with a pious mother, I was shown into a sick room, whore her daughter (a merchant's wife, and the mother of five children) was lying in the last stage of consumption. As 1 entered the room, and observed her emaciated form and death-like countenance, the promptings of sympa- thy led me to speak to her of her precious soul. At this she uttered a shriek, and gave such a look as language cannot describe. She was too low to speak ; but her mother, understanding that she wished me to leave her presence, besought her earnestly to hear me talk for a few moments about her immortal interests. With an agonized coun- tenance she listened, while I rehearsed the case of the rich man and Lazarus, and warned her with all possible tenderness now to make her peace with God. Again she shrieked in wild despair, and motioned toward the door, as if desirous I should depart. As I left the room, the mother fol- WALKS OF USEFULNESS 131 lowed, and informed me with tearful eyes, that the state of mind manifested by her unhappy daughter, was the result of Fanny Wright's lectures. First, her husband's mind was poisoned, then hers, and now, as death approaches, she has no support, and there seemed to be such " a fearful looking for of judgment," that a bare allusion to it was almost insupportable. Poor dying woman ! she had, like the rich man, long enjoyed her good things, but they are now no source of consolation. How many who, like her, have listened to the vain sophisms and corrupting principles of this heroine of infidelity, will find too late, that they have be- lieved for eternity, but " believed a lie ?" Conversion of a wine merchant. — \bth. Return- ing from my appointed district to-day, I was met at the door by an elderly gentleman, whose family I had visited, and with whom I had conversed and prayed many times. I had labored some for his salvation, but with so little faith, that I did not expect a favorable result. He had confessed in the presence of his wife, that he was not strictly " a temperance man ;" and though he sometimes wept and trembled, as we " reasoned of righteous- ness, temperance, and a judgment to come," yet he would never sign the pledge, and therefore we could not believe there was much hope in his case. (He had been a wine merchant, and accu- mulated a large property by vending liquors.) He 132 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. called to-day to tell me he had found salvatioHj and hoped, through grace, to be enabled hence- forth to renounce the world, and live only to serve his Redeemer. My heart was humbled because of my want of faith, and melted in view of the di- vine goodness in making me the unworthy instru- ment of such mercy. The injunction, " In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening with- hold not thy hand," never seemed more weighty and important. Case of hopeful conversion. — Nov. Wth. While engaged in calling on some friends of our cause to obtain signatures to a petition, I entered a house in P street, which I had before repeatedly visited. I was met by a young lady whom, at a former visit, I supposed to be in the last stages of consumption. Ax that time she confessed her- self much devoted to the vain pleasures of the ball- room and the theatre, and acknowledged that her imprudent changes of dress on these occasions had originated her disease. She had a brother, who had shared these amusements with her. I con- versed with her solemnly on the unsatisfying na- ture of such pleasures, and recommended those of a more substantial kind, which alone could sup- port the soul in a dying hour, and in view of eter- nity. Now, with an expression of countenance which spoke peace within, she related to me the story of redeeming love and mercy, which had WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 133 snatched her from the jaws of temporal and spir- itual death. A new song was p\it into her mouth, even praise to our God, and she was rejoicing in hope. Her brother too, though he did not give evidence of a change of heart, had forsaken the gay circles Avhich they once visited together, and her mother seemed anxious for her soul's salvation. Oh, how this precious intelligence cheered my heart, and nerved me for my future work and warfare ! " If on my face, for thy dear name, Shame and reproaches be ; All hail reproach, and welcome sh^nic, If thou remember me I" Nov. \Qth. Called on a poor family, the hus- band a German, and the wife an American. The latter was very sick, and seemed to be near her end. She was unable to converse much, but I asked permission to pray with her. She was very deeply affected, and when I arose from prayer, she clasped her hands, and raised her eyes with rhe thrilling exclamation, " Oh, if such a friend had come before to talk and pray with me ; but I fear it is now too late. — I can not talk — I feel that T am near the grave, and know not whither I am going !" llth. Called to-day at the house of the poor German ; but it was indeed too late to offer the message of pardon and salvation — the sick woman had gone into eternity, and her everlasting destiny 12 134 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. was sealed. Let us work while the day lasts ; for both to ourselves and others the night of death is quickly coming, when no man can work. Nov. 28/A. I have spent a part of this day m searching far a lost girl. She had been placed by her mother at service in Reed street, and had eloped without the knowledge of any one save her destroyer. There was some reason to suppose she might be found in the vicinity of Grand street, but my search thus far has been in vain. The orphan. — *' The strangers heart, O wound it not, Deal gently with the stranger's heart- In the green shadow of thy tree, The stranger finds no rest with thee." — Hemans. In one house, where I entered to make inqui- ries, I found a good woman who seemed much interested in my errand. She told me she had the care of a sick girl, whose case had very much excited her compassion, and invited me to her room. She appeared very ill, and answered my inquiries in a subdued tone, and with an expres- sion of countenance that at once interested and affected me. In answer to the question, " What ails you, my child she replied, " A broken heart." Learning that she was an orphan and a stranger, I solicited further information concerning her case. She had resided till the last summer in Fred- erickeburgh, Virginia, was left fatherless at an WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 135 early age, and had one sister who was older than herself, for whom she ever felt the most tender Attachment. Her mother married a second time, and although her stepfather was a foreigner, he treated the family with much kindness. After some years the mother died, and she was placed it service, and her sister was taken by the father to Georgetown. Two or three years elapsed, and she heard nothing from either, but at length was informed that they had removed to this city ; when, without delay, she gathered her small effects, and commenced her journey in pursuit of these, her only earthly relatives. Here she found herself a lone stranger among a great midtitude, where scarce one of a hundred have leisure to think of the wretched. The stepfather was by occupation a gardener, and as his name was not in the directory, she sup- posed he was probably in the employ of some one, and might be fovmd by persevering research. She accordingly explored the city and its suburbs, walking from morning till night, till her courage and strength were both nearly gone. At length, after many fruitless efforts, she succeeded in as- certaining that her sister and stepfather were mar- ried, and had taken ship for France some months since. Her grief at this unexpected intelligence was almost insupportable. Prompted by sincere affection, and the ardor of youthful attachment, she 136 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. had surmounted difliculties of no ordinary magni- tude in pursuing her beloved relatives ; but now the last hope was blasted. Her first impulse was to sit down in mute despair; but she was sick and homeless. Sum- moning her wasted energies, she went again from street to street, inquiring for a service place. Not knowing where to go, and having none to guide her, she was unsuccessful. At length she met an elderly gentleman, who spoke to her kindly; and judging from his appearance that it would be safe to confide in him, she told her simple, but aflect- ing story, and asked him if he would direct her to a situation. He assented, and immediately wrote an address upon a card, and directed her to go lo the place specified. When she arrived and pre- sented her card at the door, she was invited in, and shown to a darkened room on the second floor. As soon as she was left alone, being weary and exhausted, she sank upon the bed, and soon fell asleep. She was awakened with a fit of ague —and presently the keeper of the house came in, and observing her debility, made several inquiries that convinced the poor girl that she was in an abode of death." At this she rallied her remain- ing strength to escape from the place ; and as she was evidently sick, no obstacles were interposed. It was near night when she entered the house of the kind woman where she now is, and asked for WALKS OF USEl'ULNESS. 137 drink. It was given her, when she immediately- fainted, and fell to the floor. The woman was a mother, and her sympathies were touched. She had the poor girl laid upon a bed, and when she recovered, tried to sooth her. She soon bled at the lungs, and though a physician was called, and efTorts made to restore her, repeated attacks ren- der it more than probable that she will not long survive. She brought with her to the city a very good wardrobe, and some fifteen or twenty dollars in money. A part of this was expended, and she had no further means on which to depend. She seemed fully sensible of the kindness that had been manifested in " taking her in" when she was " a stranger," and not sending her away when it was known that she was helpless and dependant. I became so deeply interested, that I determined to go to some of the dwellings of the rich, and plead the cause of the poor. There was a block near by where I was well assured that a bounti- ful supply of earthly good was enjoyed. From the lirst six houses I was turned empty away, and could not even gain a hearing. The seventh was occupied by a family, most of whom were Jews. They had learned to use "hospitality without grudging;" and though they were immersed in the follies and vanities of life, had sufficient kind- ness of heart to listen patiently to my request, and then furnish what was needed. The lady told me 12* 138 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. that they spent the Sabbath as a holyday, and fre- quently invited parties to dine with them. During our conversation I was aft'ectcd to lears ; one of the Httle daughters observing it, inquired anxiously why I wept. Hearing the name of Christ, she said, " Ma, who is Jesus Christ? you have never told me about him." The mother turned to me pleasantly, saying, " Perhaps you will convert my little daughter." Some farther remarks were made, to which both the parent and child were attentive listeners. When I rose to leave, I was urged to " come again," and had some encouragement that a second call would not be " time lost." I re- turned to the room of the sick girl, and waited a few moments for the promised articles. Presently a bountiful supply was brought by a servant, the sight of which to the sufferer seemed like cold water to a thirsty soul. Dec. 2d. To-day the afflicted one above allu- ded to has closed her eyes upon this dark world, and there is reason to hope that she found it gain to die.^' I enjoyed opportunities of conversing and praying with her at several different times, and obtained a pleasing assurance that she was ena- bled to cast herself upon the mercy of God in Christ. The kind lady who watched over her to the last, and whose benevolence is indeed worthy of all praise, informed me that she requested por- tions of the Bible read to her from time to time, WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 139 •and seemed to understand and love the truth. She expressed a wish that her sister might be informed of her early departure and the attending circum- stances, and also manifested a willingness to die. Alliance of vice and misery. — Another affecting scene witnessed this afternoon, was a family of five children, with a sick mother, in a damp, dark basement, left to suffer for the necessaries of life, because of the beastly intemperance of their natu- ral guardian and protector. While endeavoring to sympathize in their distresses, the father was brought in so inebriated that he was as helpless as an infant ; and yet his little ones were so agi- tated at his approach, that they crept under a bed in one corner of the room, trembling with fear. If the Christians in our land could see at one view, the mas| of unutterable misery that is en- dured in a single day by those who suffer from the intemperance of relatives to whom they are nearly allied, they would surely awake to the cause of temperance, and plead before the mercy- seat, as they have never done before, for the in- terposition of an Almighty deliverer. lO^A. In one dwelling of the poor, I found a weeping circle who had just buried from their sight their only earthly dependance and head. The poor man was impenitent, and this was among his last expressions, " O ' if there were some one 140 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. to pray for me." My heart was pained that such should be the exclamation of a dying man in a community of Christians. 15M. In W street I found a sick woman with several small children, who was anxious about her soul. Slie requested me, with much earnestness, to pray for her. To avoid interrup- tion I had the door locked, and then engaged in prayer. Before rising, the father came. and finding the door closed, rapped violently, at the same time demanding admittance. One of the children obey- ed him, And he entered much enraged, came near me and asked what I was about ; and because un- heeded, talked very rudely. I did not mhid him till my prayer was finished. He then said if I " was a man he would put me out of doors." I told him I was there about my Master's business, in a good cause, and not at all asl^med or afraid ; his wife had asked me to pray for her, and I had done so, and should pray again both for her and her wicked husband, and the dear children. 1 told him I was old enough to be his mother, and I thought his conduct had been very unbecoming. At length he confessed, with some " confusion of face," that he had acted improperly, and asked me to come again. He also consented to let me bring his daughter a Bible that she might read it to her mother. (They had had none in the house , I WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 141 for years.) I carried one, and several suitable tracts, both of which were received kindly. Minister's daughter found in a house of infamy. — " The brand of shame is on thy brow. The fire of death is in thy heart, And infamy hath made thee now Of human tilings, a thing apart — An outcast from each social tie, Proud conscious virtue's mock and scorn. Victim of guilt tliat may not die — O better hadst thou ne'er been bom." \9th. The case of Ellen , the minister's daughter, who eloped when very young and was brought here and then abandoned by one for whom she had left all, has greatly interested my feelings ; and knowing the neighborhood of her residence, I have endeavored this morning to find her, and think I have succeeded. I had little hope of doing her good, but the bare possibility made me willing to attempt it. Her house is in the vicinity of a noted theatre ; and among twenty adjoining dwel- lings, I found six of the worst description. A practical comment upon the morality of the theatre. The inmates of these different establishments, ob- serving my tracts and papers, treated me with re- spect, and listened with some interest to my mes- sage. The house that had been pointed out as the residence of Ellen , was furnished with taste and elegance, and there was nothing in the appearance of the individual that would indicate the blackness of her character. She allowed me WALKS OF USEFULNESS. to be seated, and I then told her that I was direct- ed here to see a person named Ellen , who is a daughter of a minister at the south, but has thrown herself away, broken the hearts of her pa- rents, and not only destroyed her own soul, but is leading a young man, much beloved by his friends, in the same road to death. He has been here from time to time for two years past, and it has come to the knowledge of his mother, and is breaking her heart ; and if he is not reclaimed will bring down her gray hairs w^ith sorrow to the grave. " But, my child, I should not think from yoiu* looks that you could be the one." Her counte- nance fell, she wept, and was apparently much overcome. The Lord enabled me to deal faith- fully, and on leaving, gave me a consciousness of having discharged my duty. The parents of the young man I have learned are of the first respect- ability, and have spared no pains to win him back to virtue. Another thing also is true concerning him. Notwithstanding he was a Sabbath scholar and religiously educated, yet his mind was cor- rupted when a mere child by the influence of vile books and evil associates. Let parents inquire who are the companions of their cliildren. On my return I was induced to leave the paper and a certain tract at another house of infamy in G street. Supposing I should meet with no difficulty, I entered and presented them to the WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 143 women who composed the family. As soor. as they observed the words " moral reform," the door was closed and locked by one of the company, who said at the same time exultingly, " You are our prisoner." For a moment my heart was tremu- lous ; I said nothing till the risings of fear were quelled, and then replied pleasantly, " Well, if I'm a prisoner I shall pray here, and would sing praises to God if I were not so hoarse. Yes, bless the Lord ! his presence can make me happy here or anywhere, and you can have no power to harm me unless he gives it. This is a dreadful place, to be sure, but it is not so bad as hell ; for there, there is no hope. The smoke of their torment as- cendeth up for ever and ever ! What a mercy that we are not all there ! What compassion in the blessed Jesus that he spares us, when our sins are every day so great!" I talked to them in this way till they were glad to open the door as a signal for my release. Indeed they seemed quite ashamed, and tried to apologize for their rudeness by saying that they had nothing at all against me, it was only the paper that displeas- ed them. They thought that a bad concern, and that it was injuring a great many. * * * As I walked toward my home, it was sweet to medi- tate upon the words of the poet : — " Through all the dangers of the day Thy hand has been my giiard ; And still to drive my fears awa^r Tb" •rtpr/'v «»r>o' the dead and weep. In stillness o'er the loss ; Bury the dead; in Christ they sleep, Who bore on earth his cross. Soon from the grave their dust shall rise In his own image to the skies." We thought of the last prayer offered by the compassionate Savior before he suffered, " I will that those whom thou hast given me be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory," and that in this case it had been fulfilled ; he had " come again to receive her unto himself" — * * "To unveil the glories of his lovely face, And take the ransomed soul to rest in his embrace.^ WALKS OF USEFULNESS. 323 In imagination we followed the freed spirit in its upward flight, and beheld the blissful greet- ings between it and the company of redeemed ones who waited on the confines of the heavenly world to receive it into "everlasting habitations." Faith strove, but all its efforts failed to paint the blessedness unfolded to her immortal vision. — " O glorious change I O blessed abode ! Now is she near, and like her God." Instead of w^alking as formerly amid the con- fusion and turmoil, the scenes of guilt and wretchedness that vexed her righteous soul from day to day, a crown of resplendent glory adorns her brow, and she walks the streets of the New Jerusalem to go no more out for ever. " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.** TRIBUTE OF AFFECTION. * ♦ Dear sainted one ! no sculptured stone Perpetuates thy memory on earth, But grateful hearts enshrine thy honored name ; Thy deeds of love for earth's afflicted poor Have raised a monument of priceless worth, To stand till time and death shall be no more. Yes, thou didst " toil for other worlds than this;" Thou didst not go to India's sultry clime, To point the dying to the path of peace, 324 WALKS OF USEFULNESS. To lay thy dust upon a heathen soil, Cheered in the god- like work by man's applause Thy mission was at home, of humble birth, Receiving aid from few, and scorned by most. But thou didst walk with God the walk of faith. Thou hadst his smile, the succor of his arm. Unlearned and feeble, and " of none account," Leaning on him thou didst " confound the wise." Strong in his strength, in peril's fearful hour, If duty called, no fear deterred thy steps. Faith nerved thy heart to face a frowning world. The sneer that curled the lip thon heeded not Save that a tear of pity sometimes dropped. And then the tide of love, strong deathless love, Rose high within : — and thou didst still endure As seeing Him, who is unseen, but near. His grace sustained thee, and his promise soothed *Twas grace alone inspired thy dying wish. That " 5eZ/ might be abased— C/im< all in all 'Twas grace alone that made thee what thou wert. To grace alone our souls would give the praise. THE END.