The Day-Dawn of Grace

To a mind in sympathy with the beautiful in nature, there I are few spectacles more exquisitely enjoyable than the daydawn in spring. To watch the gradual dissolving of night’s deep shadows into grey twilight, — the twilight blushing into J the rose-hue of morning — to catch the first new-born ray trembling in the eastern sky, all nature starting from its slumber, and hymning its early praise to the Creator, who “maketh the outgoings of the morning and the evening to rejoice” — is a scene of intense interest and beauty. But to a mind sensible of moral beauty, transcendently more lovely is the day-dawn of grace in the soul. To trace the first faint glimmer of spiritual light struggling with the darkness of the mind — to behold that mind gradually emerging from its night of gloom into the calm sunshine of a new spiritual creation, and to watch its progress as it “shineth more and more unto the perfect day,” is a spectacle of yet surpassing grandeur. Such a picture, as sketched by her own pen, we are about to contemplate:

“From the age of ten years I have been in the habit of reading to my mother, every night, the ‘Whole Duty of Man.’ This book, I believe, brought me under a law-work of soul. After my marriage, I discontinued reading it, but still what I had read was impressed upon my mind and memory. Often would the thought come over me, ‘How can such a one as I get to heaven? Heaven is a good place, and only the good go there. Oh, if I could Imt cease from sin and keep the Commandments.’ Sometimes I shut myself up, and with the the ‘Whole Duty of Man’ or the Prayer Book in my hand, upon my knees I have solemnly promised I would keep all the Commandments, and while doing this have felt greatly relieved of my burden, as if the work were done that was to fit me for heaven. But ere the day was over, my goodness had passed away, and I felt as unfit as ever for the abodes of the holy and the good. At other times I thought I was not worse than most people, and that God was too good to condemn the whole world. During this period I never hinted my feelings to my husband: I was afraid he would think from my distress of (22)

J mind that I had committed some dreadful sin, nor could I explain my views to him. I heard no gospel, though a constant attendant at church. Once I ventured to go to the Lord’s Table, and recollect shedding tears at hearing of the sufferings of Christ. But soon after I relapsed into the ways of the world and forgot my vows. A young creature, the wife of one of the officers, died at a place where our regiment was quartered. Her death greatly shocked me, as I feared she was not good enough, any more than myself, to go to heaven. I was in the room when she died; but as we were under orders for Bermuda, I soon, in the bustle and excitement of preparing for the voyage, forgot the serious impression her death made upon me; but still an earnest desire more or less followed me to try and commend myself to God, and make myself fit for heaven. I often hoped I might die of a lingering disease, as that would afford me more time for repentance. “Soon after my marriage I was at a ball; I was then a bride, receiving much attention, and my pride was gratified. I had married the man I loved, and who loved me in return. My mother was more than reconciled to the step I had taken — she was pleased. I had everything my carnal heart could desire, not a wish was ungratified. I was at the very zenith of earthly happiness. On returning from the ball, I took a hasty review of the evening I had passed as I lay “feleepless upon my pillow. The glitter — the music — the dance — the excitement — the attention — the pleasure, all passed before me. But oh, I felt a want I could not describe. I sighed, and whispered to myself these expressive words: ‘Is this all?’ I felt at the moment that if this were all the happiness the world could bestow, then was there a lack I knew not how to supply, and a void I could not fill. I had reached the very summit of earthly bliss, and found it to fall short of what my heart craved, and my soul required. From this time I grew more fond of retirement, and less inclined to ming-le with the gay world. I felt that what I had been pursuing in the early 1 part of my life was not happiness. I turned from it with a [ sensation of loathing, and sought in solitude what I had never found in the brilliant and crowded walks of life. I thousrht that there must be a state where real happiness was to be [ found. In this condition of mind I continued for vears, striv- ing to keep the law, and to shape my course by the ‘Whole Duty of Man.’ I endeavoured to walk so as to please God,

24 MEMOIR OB^ MRS. MARY WINSLOW.

but again and again my best resolutions were broken, Thc-e feelings I concealed from all around me, for I would not for the world have breathed a hint that I was unhappy to the deaxest friend. I saw every one around me apparently happy in the possession of the world which had lost its charm for me. I now sought peace of mind in domestic enjoyment. I was encircled by my children, possessed a husband who anticipated my fondest vv’ish, and my heart could sigh for nothing of earthly bliss which I did not possess — and still I was unhapijy. I was a sinner — and this secret conviction beclouded every prospect, and embittered every cup.”

Such were the mental exercises — sad, yet hopeful — which foreshadowed the day-spring from on high in her heart. It was now the twilight of grace in her soul. The dark clouds which had so lono enshrouded her were breakino;, and this dreary night of weeping was fast retiring before the dawning splendour of a morning of joy. After living a military life for some years. Captain Winslow was induced to retire to an ancestral estate near Romford, in Essex. But change of place and diversity of scene supply no real relief to a mind burdened with sin. Referring to her removal, she remarks:

“While here I was conscious — though surrounded by every earthly comfort, and by all I loved, and had more time for reading and reflection — of the same lack I had felt years bofore. My mind was restless. My soul wanted what earth could not supply. And yet I could not describe to any one what I needed, nor what I felt. I was unhappy — at times miserable; my weary soul thirsting for what it had not, and yet I could not answer myself, and say what that one thing was.”

It was no longer possible to conceal from her husband a sadness which, like the spoiler, wrapped itself within the folds of every flower of earthly good. The quick eye of affection detected a lurkino- sorrow, the cause of which baffled his ing-enuity to discover. He marked the pallor of her cheek, the stifled sigh, and the vain attempt at cheerfulness. It was enough, however, to know that she was unhappy; attributing it to tho solitude of their residence, he instantly resolved upon an expedient for its relief. On returning home one day, he informed her that he had taken a house in town, and proposed an immediate removal. The idea of a change was pleasing, and in. short time they were fullv established in their new abode. In all this God’s hand was signally moving. He was leading her blind steps by a way she knew not, but it was to bring her soul, panting for the “living water,” to the spring whence it flowed. It does not appear that the ministry of the parish church in ’ which her new residence was situate was of a character calculated to meet the exisrencies of such a case. There was the absence of that evansfelical element which could alone constitute it a message of “life and spirit” to its hearers. Referring to it, she says, “There was nothino; to satisfy my soul.” The first eyent marking God’s overruling providence in this change of residence was the appointment, just at this juncture, of the I Rev. Thomas Sheppard to the perpetual curacy of St. James’s i Episcopal Chapel, Pentonville, and who, seven years afterwards, succeeded to the rectory of Clerkenwell. “How beau-; tiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and i bring glad tidings of good things!” Never did these expressive words of the evangelical prophet receive a more striking illustration than now. Mr. Slieppard was a decided man of God, and an able minister of the New Testament. His ministry, sound in doctrine, and richly experimental in its character, was accompanied by an earnestness of spirit, and a persuasiveness of address, which at once met the peculiar state of mind it was designed to relieve. Thus two individuals under the j especial guidance of God entered the parish of Pentonville almost simultaneously. The one was a soul bowed down with i grief for sin, and who could in nowise lift up herself — the 1 other was a messenger of peace, whose ministry of grace was to loosen her bonds, and set her captive spirit free. For her ‘. sake his feet were guided thither, little divining, doubtless, for ’ what especial intent his Master had thus brought him. But the narrative is best and more fully told by herself:

“The change of residence was pleasant to me. I was thrown more amongst my friends, and for awhile my mind was diverted from its gloom. We were near the Chapel of Ease. I went, but there was nothing to satisfy my soul. The minister had been preaching here for twenty-one years, but now it was the Lord’s time that he should be removed, and that a real shepherd should take his place. I went, and heard from the new minister, for the first time in my life the precious gospel of PEACE. This was what I had wanted to know for many years, that Jesus Christ had come into the world to save poor sinnevs, I was a sinner, and wanted to be saved. Oh, how eagerly I hstened, and drank in every word! I had been in vain trying 2 to work out my salvation, hnt my work always fell short, and left me as poor and miserable as ever. Now was held out to me the hope that I might be saved by the work of another — the work of Jesus Christ. With one observation of Mr. Sheppard I was much impressed. Describing my spiritual state of mind on one occasion he most solemnly said, ‘If there is such an individual present, I will pledge my soul for it that that individual is in the way to Christ.’ With this remark I was deeply struck, I thought the free invitation of the gospel he was presenting must be true, since this godly man was willing to risk his soul upon the truth of what he was asserting. Oh, if this were true, I might after all be saved! My heart and mind were now at work. I repaired to my Biljle, and searched it again and again. Bi, grace are ye saved through faith and that not of yourselves it is the gift of God, was a passage that arrested nty attention. I found that in the Epistle of James we were justified by works, and my heart sank within me. I had no works, and could do none pleasing and acceptable to God, In the Epistles of Paul I read that we were justified by faith. There seemed a contradiction. My anxious mind could find no rest, but still I felt a ray of hope dawn upon my benighted soul, and continued to hear the precious truth as one huufrerins: and thirstinor for divine knowledije. One niuht, watching alone by the side of a sick child, I took my Bible and searched the Scriptures. The cpiestion how the sinner could be justified, pressed heavily upon my mind. If I could be saved by faith in the righteousness of another, then I felt that there was hope for me; but if there was anything for me to do towards meriting this salvation, I saw I must be forever lost. I read first one epistJe and then another, when as I read, the words were brought to my mind, Ask, and ye shall receive. I reasoned, who is it that says this? It is God. Can God lie? It is impossible. He must do what ho has said. He has commanded, Asl; and ye shall receive. I will ask. I ft’ll upon my knees and pleaded the promise. My petition was offered in the simple language of an untutored child, I knew nothing of Christian experience, had heard the gospel but a few times, and the only thing that had fastened itself upon my mind was the truth that a poor sinner could l»e saved. Thus I went to God and pleaded the promise, asking him how such a wretched sinner as I was could be s- l. I did not wrestle so much for my salvation as to know how I could be saved as a helpless sinner that could do nothing. I arose from my knees, and again took my Bible. I read and compared scripture with scripture, but the one part appeared to contradict the other, and my mind was left in darkness and perplexity. Again I carried the promise to the throne of grace, and again wrestled with the Lord. I returned to my Bible, but it was yet a sealed book. The third time I ventured near the Lord, still pleading this one gracious promise. Ask, and ye shall receive. In an instant light broke in

upon my soul. Jesus stood before me and spoke these blessed words, — I AM THY SALVATION! I hailed the glad tidings — my heart and soul responded — Jesus was with me — He had himself spoken — I had an the Lord — had heard His voice — my soul was saved — my burden was gone — the grave-clothes in which I had been so long confined fell off — my spirit was free, and I seemed to soar towards heaven in the sweetest, richest enjoyment — my heart filled with a joy unspeakable. I arose from my knees to adore, and praise, and bless His holy name. Oh, what a night was that, never, never, to be forgotten! T had seen Jesus. It was no vision of the bodily senses that I saw; but I had no more doubt that I was a redeemed and pardoned sinner, that I had seen Christ, and held communion with Him who died that I might live, than I had of my own existence. It was with difficulty I could refrain from calling up the whole house to hear what the Lord had done for my soul. I thought all would believe and rejoice too, so ignorant was I. As soon as it was morning I informed my husband of what the Lord had done for me. He looked amazed at what I said, and feared I should lose my senses. I was grieved that he did not believe and could not understand, and urged him, by every argument I could employ, to seek for the same blessing, which I was sure the Lord wcJtild give him.

“It has since been evident to myself, that when the Holv Ghost gave me the promise to plead, He also gave me a measure of faith to credit God for its fulfilment, and in answering the prayer of simple faith, Christ came into my soul with a full and free salvation. / am thy salvation! This was good news indeed, fresh from heaven. Christ was mine, heaven was mine, — all care and sorrow had vanished, and I was as happy as I could be in the body. I had found what I had long sought. I had been in search of real happiness for years, and in one night I found it all in Jesus. God’s richest treasury had been thrown open to my view, and in Him I found all I wanted for time and eternity. In this happy frame I continued many weeks, imploring all I knew and loved to come to Christ, but none understood me. I began to think that no one knew Jesus Christ but dear Mr. Sheppard and myself, and often felt that if I had met a chimney sweep in the street that knew and loved Christ, I could embrace him as a brother.”

Such is the simple, glowing narrative of one upon whose soul the Sun of Righteousness had just arisen. In the earnestness of religious feeling breathing through these genuine utterances of the heart, the reader may trace the leading characteristic of her subsequent Christian life. That at this early period of her new birth there was much holy zeal, as yet unaccompanied with deep Christian experience, she always meekly acknowledged. She thought every mind would believe her simple story, and that every heart would sympathize with her holy joy. She needed the helping hand of an advanced Christian. It would appear, however, that in the absence of personal intercourse with livins: saints, she met with the works of that eminent man of God, the Rev. John Newton, Rector of Olney, whose richly experimental writings, clothed in beautiful simplicity of style, were admirably adapted to her state of mind, and were richly owned of God in deepening her Christian knowledge and experience. To the latest period of her life she referred with gratitude to the benefit she had derived from his writings, and one of the books found in her room after death was a volume of her favourite author, John Newton. The foregoinsr remarks are thus borne out in her continued bioffraphy: —

“Some months after this Satan was permitted to trv mv young faith, and to cast a cloud over my mind. Unbelief began to work. I feared I might be mistaken, as I could meet with none among all my friends who either understood what I said, or knew what I had experienced. Had I then a matured Christian to whom I could have opened my heart, it would have been a great comfort. And yet it was well it was so, that I misrlit flee, not to an arm of flesh, but to the living God. My mind was brought into darkness. The sensible presence of Christ was withdrawn, and sadness filled mv heart. I souorht Him but found Him not; I prayed, but received no comfort. Pacing my room one day under this dark dispensation, and fearing I never again should enjoy what I once had, I threw myself upon my knees, and cried to the Lord to come andble-ss me if I had not deceived myself. In a moment, in condescending love, the same precious Jesus stood before me as He did at the first, saying, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt f I well recollect my answer. Clasping mv hands in ecstacy, I exclaimed, ‘My Lord, and my God! I cannot and will not doubt; forgive my base ingratitude.’ Overwhelmed with that blessed interview, I thought I never, no, never would doubt again. Satan fled from the presence of the Lord, and I was left alone with God, — my God, my own God. I could not tell mv iov, and no one understood mv feelings. At this time I became acquainted with the writings of the Rev. John Newton. I read them with great delight, and if he had been alive, I would have walked miles to have conversed with him.”

It was not long before the providence of God guided to her door the steps of a deeply-taught, aged Christian in humble life. To him she opened her heart, and found a warm response. He kindly took her by the hand, and in lowliness of mind she yielded herself to his instructions. In a letter to her mother she thus refers to this auspicious circumstance: —

“I enclose you a note from a poor man addressed to me. He is poor in this world’s goods, but rich in faith. He watches over me as a father would a child, and I believe loves me as much. He visits me often, comforts and reproves, and endeavours to build me up in my most holy faith; and when he cannot come, he writes to me. He is a most pious, excellent Christian. His thoughts and whole heart are continually in heaven. Oh, that I were but more like him!

It is an interesting fact, that on her return from abroad some years afterwards, she sought out her early Christian instructor, found him much advanced in years, in ill-health, and the occupant of an alms-house. Thither she frequently repaired, bearing with her some little temporal comfort, and often receiving in return a word of spiritual blessing. She occasionally invited him to her house, and administered to his necessities, until the venerable pilgrim exchanged his lowly abode on earth for the many-mansioned home of his Father in Heaven.

The following letter addressed to her mother at Bermuda, with which we close this chapter, whilst it confirms the pleasing fact of her parent’s spiritual change, evidences at the same so MEMOIR OF MRS. MARY WIXSLOW.

time the remarkable clearness and ,c:;rowth of her own views of divine truth; and in the illness of her husband, to which it refers, foreshadows those trying dispensations which afterwards gave such maturity to her Christianity, and rendered her so extensively useful in comforting others with the comfort with which she herself had been comforted of God: —

“My dearest Mother, October 22, 1810.

“... Thank God you are all well; but above all things, I desire to thank and bless His holy name that you and Bella are so wonderfully brought to know yourselves, and to know Him whom to know is life everlasting. Blessed be God, who passes by so many, and who has deigned to look upon us who were lying as others, dead in sin. Infinite in sovereignty, infinite in goodness, infinite in power! why He passes by some and calls others, is only known to Himself; but there is a time coming when we shall know even as we are known, and be enabled to see that He acts consistently with his goodness and mercy. All we have to do in this vale of tears is to press forward to the glorious prize He has placed in our view, looking continually to Jesus, trusting not to our own strength, but waiting in humble dependence upon Him for all our sufficiency to carry us on, and to enable us to hold out unto the end. He that has promised is true and faithfid to His word. Oh, that we may be found like His beloved handmaiden of old, sitting at His feet. His eve is ever upon His dear, dependent flock; He knows all our need, and has promised to supply it. But for these things He will be inquired of. It is at a throne of grace Jesus makes Himself known to His saints, comforts them, revives their drooping spirits with a view of those blessings He has in store for them. This world is not our home — we look for a better. His people are pilgrims here on earth, and generally are a poor and afflicted people. They have not their portion here as thousands have, — their portion is to come. Their names are written in the book of life, and were written before the foundation of the world. They are as dear to Him as the apple of His eve. Then what have we to fear? nothing; but everything to hope. Blessed be God who sent His onlv Son to pav our debt, to rescue us from the power of Satii, to cleanse us from all our guilt, to clothe our souls with His righteousness, and thereby give us a rightful claim to a crown of glory. Blessed be that dear Son who condescended to come amongst us, to assume our nature, and to do for us what we had no power to do for ourselves. ‘And blessed be the Holy Spirit, who in infinite mercy forms and prepares us for the heavenly kingdom. I

am delighted to find dear B has such clear views of the

doctrine’ of the Atonement. And oh, that they may reach her heart, and influence all her thoughts, words, and actions. My last letter will have informed you that the children’s illness was occasioned by the measles, “and my precious husband’s from a rupture of a blood-vessel in the lungs. These things altot’ether, have been a severe trial to mind and body, but I have been in a most wonderful manner supported under them. I have gone through enough to kill a dozen women stronger than m/self; but the Lordlias fulfilled the promise, and given me strength according to my day.

“On Monday evening I heard a very popular munster, who was to preach at a chapel in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. I waited some time until the doors were opened, and then obtained a seat near the pulpit. But although the place was larre, every part was densely crowded, and people standmg in “the aisles. The preacher was Alexander Fletclier, from Scotland, a young man of about twenty-two. But oh, how zealous, fervent, and inexpressibly great and sweet in exphiining the glad tidings of salvation! His discourse was a.ldress’ed to children particularly, and he has such uncommon power in directing and fixing the attention of both old and young, that I do not believe the eyes of either were off him during the whole service. This good steward of Jesus preaches almost everv evening in some part or other of London. Oh, when I see such servants of the Lord spending their strength, their lives, their all for God, and counting it nothing so that they might win Christ, I look at myself and mourn over my unprofitableness, and desire to he low m the dust. This good, zealous man of God, though followed by crowds, appears humble and lowly, like his blessed Master. Oh, my dear mamma, how I long to have you with me, where you may hear the blessed gospel preached in a thousand places. How precious it is in the ear of the redeemed! It is the soul s food, and we grow lean and lukewarm without it. May every covenant blessing attend you, is the prayer of your affectionate daughter, ^- ’