THE CHRISTIAN OBSERVER. No. 187.] JULY, 1817. [No. 7. Vol. XVI. RELIGIOUS COMMUNICATIONS. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. As the youthful subject of this N Thursday, May 1, died at short memorial had often before Clifton, the expressed her surprise Right Honourable Lady EDWARD O'BRYEN, aged twenty-nine. To attempt some slight sketch of her religious character is considered-rather fondly perhaps a debt due to the worth of the departed, no less than to the general interests of the church of God; to the glory of whose grace, it is trust ed, she hath been made "accepted in the beloved." Placed by the providence of God in one of the higher walks of life, and elevated to a still more advanced station by her marriage with the Right Honourable Lord Edward O'Bryen, in April, 1815, she accounted it still her highest honour to sit at the feet of her Redeemer. To this wise choice she had been gradually led by Divine grace for several years before; having first of all made a persevering, but a fruitless, search after happiness in the pursuits and amusements of fashionable life. Scarcely had she been convinced, upon experience, of the vanity of these expectations, when it pleased God to visit with illness, and in the course of twelve months to remove by death, an elder and beloved sister. This painful, but seasonable disruption of one of the tenderest of human ties, proved the happy means of binding the affections of the attached survivor more closely to her Saviour. The world now appeared to her, indeed," a broken cistern, that can hold no water:" and she in consequence determined never to wander more from "the fountain of living waters." CHRIST. OBSERV. No. 187. duct of those whom higher thoughts and views had detached from the objects of this lower scene; so, on the other hand, was her astonishment now excited in an equal degree, by the too common devotion of mankind to the pomps and vanities of the world. This change, which most clearly appeared to all who knew her, made it no doubtful fact that the eyes of her understanding had been enlightened to behold the true glories of the Cross; in Scripture language, " to know the breadth, and length, and depth, and heighth of the love of Christ;" and from this discovery she had derived the full conviction of it being her duty, "no longer to live unto herself but unto Him that died for her and rose again." In her situation, it will easily be credited, that this duty was not merely "a sacrifice of that which would cost her nothing." She had fully counted the cost of a religious profession, before she began to make it. She had learned already, as well from her own observation of the world, as from the concurrent testimony of sacred history in every age, that love to the Redeemer was not to be faithfully maintained without the censure of the world. The "better part" was modestly, but deliberately, chosen by her. Her conduct, indeed, towards others, proved her just value for Christian prudence, combined with Christian charity, in order to remove all reasonable occasion of offence: but it proved likewise that her first object was a prize alike beyond this 3 H world's frown or smile; her sole" from whence she had fallen," and guide, the will and example of her Redeemer; her highest joy, the glory of her God, and the best happiness of her fellow-creatures. Individual instances of her cha racteristic and truly Christian benevolence, though delightful to the recollection of immediate friends, would not distinguish her sufficiently from other labourers in the same blessed service, to demand particular notice. It may be sufficient to say, that the poor inhabitants of the large parish of Corsham, in Wiltshire, can bear an ample and affectionate testimony, accompanied with the liveliest regret, to the active exertions of their departed young friend, both in behalf of their temporal and spiritual interests. That equivocal zeal which regards the bodies of the poor, but neglects their souls, gave place in her practice to plans more enlarged and more consistent with a truly Christian spirit. And if religion entered into all her views of charity, no less did humility of the purest kind add a lustre to both. She deemed herself still a debtor to Divine grace: she felt herself unworthy even of the task which she instrumentally fulfilled; and losing sight of her own best works, she made mention only of the righteousness of Christ. No wish is felt by the writer of this memorial to pourtray a character of visionary excellence; and those who are best acquainted with the sad details of the corrupt heart of man, will know that dark shades are necessary to give reality and life even to the portrait of "the regenerate." As an encourage ment then to conscious weakness when breathing after increased watchfulness and renewed strength, it is here related of Lady Edward O'Bryen, that the advice to the church of Ephesus was once applicable to her; and that soon after she had kuown the way of righteousness, and escaped, as it was hoped, the pollutions of the world, it became necessary to remind her to exhort her "to repent and do her first works." This circumstance throws a fresh and lively interest over her memory to those who were privy to the superior degree of care, as well as the deeper humility, which arose out of the consciousness of her early partial declension. And clothed in this humility, who will not say that she was seasonably, we do not know how seasonably, and perhaps how mercifully, called by the great Lord of his church to meet her last enemy? In the beginning of the month of April last, the signal for this awful call was given in the irre. sistible progress of a fatal fever, which seized her soon after the birth of her second female infant. But to Lady Edward O'Bryen death appeared to appeared to assume its most mitigated form, and seemed only to brighten her religion and confirm her happiness. From the first knowledge of her danger, she demonstrated that her spirit rested solely on the Rock of her salvation. The holy calmness, which by rapid degrees now began to pervade her entire frame, and cheered alike her countenance and her speech, was as edifying as it was striking. The sting of death which is sin, seemed for ever removed by faith in her Redeemer's blood. Fear, sorrow, regret, once so familiar to her mind, in reflecting upon that which is the sting of death, found no place in her, when contemplating the enemy himself. Though quick in natural feeling, and fervent in affection for her husband and two infant children, she nevertheless may be truly said to have rejoiced in the hope of departing into the presence of One whom she loved still better. "I love my husband," said she on one occasion, "I love my children, but I love my Saviour better. I had rather depart and be with Him." At another time she said, "The coffin and the shroud are fearful things to human nature, but not to a sinner who has been washed in the precious blood of Christ." Again, in the recollection of those fears before alluded to, which she often felt, when in the habit of connecting her own unworthiness with the last awful event of life, she was heard to exclaim, "I feared the valley of death would have been dark; but my Saviour has made it now all light to me. There is no dark part in it." She even expressed herself as though she dreaded the passage through the valley which was made so delightful to her, would be too short. The anticipation seemed now as joyful as before it had been painful: and her last pulse, almost her last breath, was accompanied with an assurance intelligible to those around her, "I am very happy ;"-" I am going to Christ." And in such breathings at length her spirit fled, and mortality was swallowed up of life. Happy were it for those "lovers of pleasure," to whose use this little detail is more particularly dedicated, could they have learned the secret of happiness in this truly Christian school. No one could have beheld the dying wife, the dying mother, without at least acknowledging that her religion was a cheerful one: cheerful, notwithstanding she had abandoned those worldly amusements which are too commonly considered to be the very soul of happiness. Where can a person warmly attached to the pleasures of the world be found, who would leave a beloved husband and two infant children, as serenely, as joyfully, yet as tenderly as the deceased. Instances of apathy, perhaps of resignation, might indeed be produced; but it is plainly impossible that any one, whose affections are wedded to the world, should acquiesce in that which on such principles is loss of all, and much less, under the circumstances of Lady Edward O'Bryen, rejoice when summoned to depart. Let all, but especially the young, con sider well the consolations which irradiated the death-bed of this departed Christian, and then let them determine for themselves, whether, in the ways of the world or under the banners of theCross, the greater happiness is to be expected. AMICUS, To the Editor of the Christian Observer, NEXT to the invaluable possession of the holy Scriptures, the institution of the Sabbath is unquestionably one of the greatest blessings which we enjoy, and one for which we can never be sufficiently grateful to God; and yet this high privilege, so suited to our numerous wants and infirmities, is often, I fear, not only slighted and overlooked, but even grossly perverted, by persons who cannot, in other respects, be properly classed with either the vicious or profane. Even among those who evidently wish to abstain from shewing any outward marks of contempt for a day thus set apart for the service of God, such strange inconsistencies of conduct are frequently visible, that the Creator is dishonoured, instead of being glorified, by a performance devoid of that fervent love, gratitude, and devotion, which alone render it in any degree either a reasonable or an acceptable service. By many persons, a regular attendance on public worship is considered the only thing needful, and as of sufficient intrinsic merit to atone for an indulgence in listless inactivity, or perhaps positive dissipation, during the remaining hours of the day; as if the interests of this world and those of the next might thus be pleasantly, at least, if not profitably reconciled. Your learned correspondent T. S. having ably proved the obligation which lies on us to keep one day in seven holy, I shall not attempt to shew the impiety of violating this important duty; but shall only advert to the effect which a conscientious regard to the Sabbath 3H 2 at all times, but especially on the Sabbath, to be prepared as much to bear with resignation the latter as to indulge with holy delight the former. What are the feelings which involuntarily affect our hearts, when we first behold the light of morning? If we have enjoyed any degree of repose, been preserved from the perils of darkness, and the attacks of disease, our waking moments will, perhaps, be accompanied with irresistible emotions of heart-felt thankfulness; and the first words that escape our lips (unless we are completely choaked with the cares and business of this world) will be those of the warmest gratitude to the Giver of all good. "My voice shalt thou hear betimes, O Lord; early in the morning will I direct my prayer unto Thee, and will look up." ought to have in enabling us to bear the disappointments that may sometimes occur to diminish the pleasure we had anticipated in its observances. Impressed with the importance of religion, many individuals conscientiously employ the whole of this sacred day either in public, or private acts of devotion, repairing from the church to their closets with undeviating punctuality. Now this habit is doubtless highly laudable, and likely to produce very beneficial effects, in weaning our affections from earthly things, and fixing them where alone true joys are to be found. But to estimate the advantages that are derived from this or any other established system of spending the Sabbath, it is necessary to examine the temper and disposition manifested when unexpected circumstances arise to thwart our usual wishes and intentions. The real benefit which our devotions produce on the heart is most apparent, when those every-day little inconveniencies assail us, from which no person however retired, or season however important, can wholly claim exemption. A slight indisposition, the loss of something we prized beyond its real value, an unexpected interruption to our sacred retirement, the sickness or misfortune of a friend requiring the sacrifice of some of those valuable hours which every rightly disposed mind would wish to call exclusively its own, in order to dedicate them to those higher pursuits for which they were obviously designed; these, and various other minor trials, which our respective situations in life abundantly supply, afford the best possible opportunities of evidencing the effect which our observance of the Sabbath produces upon our hearts and conduct. It not unfrequently happens that a day begun with spiritual joy and gratitude may close with anguish and disappointment; and we ought our If such be our sensations at the beginning of ordinary days, the morning of the Sabbath will surely excite emotions of a yet sublimer nature, and all our faculties will be quickened and invigorated by the contemplation of the spiritual blessings vouchsafed to us: language will be, "Praise the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, praise His holy Name." "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." How encouraging is the assurance of meeting our God in his house of prayer! Where two or three are gathered together in my Name, there am I in the midst of them." How animating the hope that he will listen to our praises and thanksgivings for past mercies; and our supplications for a continuance of his inestimable blessings! But after having enjoyed these high privileges in anticipation, ought we not constantly to bear in mind, that we may have duties assigned to us by our heavenly Fa ther on this, as well as on every other day, of a very different nature to what our habits and inclinations would lead us to perform? Unwelcome opportunities may be afforded us for displaying the fruits of our faith, in cheerful submission to the will of God; and we may be called to adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in a way we little anticipated or desired. A humbleminded Christian, immersed in spiritual contemplation, would perhaps be likely to disregard, on this day, the Divine command of letting his "light shine before men," did not occcasional unwished-for events call those best affections into exercise, which so strikingly evidence the sanctifying effects of Christianity on the heart and life of its converts. But setting aside these greater disappointments, any circumstance, however trivial, that occurs to intrude upon that time which we had appropriated to higher pursuits, and to thwart our wishes for spiritual enjoyment, ought not to be viewed as a mere casual annoyance to be endured, but as a trial provided for us by unerring Wisdom, for calling into action those Christian graces so peculiarly pleasing in the sight of God. The most careful arrangements for privacy and retirement cannot always secure us from the interruption of those persons who count the Sabbath a wea riness. Perhaps, also, even the necessary instruction of servants or children; an attention to the spiritual wants of the poor; an arduous duty in a Sunday-school; or other obligations of a similar kind may be found occasionally to interfere with that abstracted devotion which we were desirous to indulge. Now though it is painful to have our feelings thus checked when we wished them to be most ardent, yet the real Christian will instantly perceive the hand of his Maker pointing out to him new duties, less pleasing, probably, at first view, but not on that account to be performed with reluctance. Instead of shewing a cold reserve of manner, and much less an appearance of displeasure, we ought to seize with avidity the opportunity thus afforded us of endeavouring to advance the glory of God, and the salvation of our fellow-creatures, True humility will not, even on the most arduous occasions, suggest our inability to do so, but will teach us earnestly to pray for, and faithfully to rely upon, that strength which is made perfect in our weakness. It should be the desire of every sincere Christian to evince the effects of real piety on the heart and affections, by bearing slight disappointments with cheerfulness, and submitting to the heavier dispensations of Providence with patient resignation. The checks and interruptions which so often occur to embitter our Sabbaths upon earth, should lead us to long more intensely for that eternal rest which remaineth for the people of God in. heaven; and the providences which sometimes detain us from the outward courts of the Most High, should endear to us the thought of that celestial temple whence we shall go out no more. 7 ASEVIA. To the Editor of the Christian Observer. I HAVE just been reading the life. of the eminently pious and revered Brainerd, the American Missionary; and it has suggested to me the following cursory observations, which I should be glad to see inserted in the pages of your miscellany. The life and creed of the holy Brainerd, taken together, should, I think, make those persons seriously reflect, who will not allow us to try the soundness of our faith by any other evidence than a sort of insulated acceptance of Christ as our Saviour; permitting (as it should seem) no examination, either of heart or life, as to any incipient, growing, or abiding conformity to God's holy law, lest our comfort and liberty in Christ should be thereby abridged. If any persons thus disposed be really, pious characters, I cannot but ob |