Midst raging flame!
Then Jesu’s milder blood invoke,
And preach His name.
Remember still to fear the Lord,
To live, as well as preach, His word,
And wield the Gospel’s two-edged sword,
Though dangers lower —
Example only can afford
To precept power.
And dress nor slovenly nor gay,
Nor sternly act; nor trifling play;
Still keep the golden middle way
Whate’er betide you;
And ne’er through giddy pleasures stray,
Though fools deride you.
As wily serpent ever prove,
Yet harmless as the turtle-dove,
Still winning souls by guileful love
And deep invention —
So once the great Apostle strove
With good intention.
And inly to thyself take heed,
Oft prove your heart, its pages read, —
Self-knowledge will, in time of need,
Your wants supply;
Who knows himself, from dangers freed,
Where’er he lie.
So God will own the labours done,
Approving see His honoured Son,
And honoured Law; and numbers won
Of souls immortal,
Through grace, will onward conquering run
To heaven’s bright portal.
And on that last and greatest day,
When heaven and earth shall pass away,
A perfect band, in bright array,
Will form your crown,
Your joys triumphant wide display,
And sorrows drown.
And now farewell, my youthful friend —
Excuse these lines, in candour penned;
To me as freely counsel lend,
With zeal as fervent —
For you will pray, till life does end,
Your humble servant.
EPISTLE TO THE LABOURING POOR.
All you who turn the sturdy soil,
Or ply the loom with daily toil,
And lowly on through life turmoil
For scanty fare,
Attend, and gather richest spoil
To soothe your care.
I write with tender, feeling heart —
Then kindly read what I impart;
’Tis freely penned, devoid of art,
In homely style,
’Tis meant to ward off Satan’s dart,
And show his guile.
I write to ope your sin-closed eyes,
And make you great, and rich, and wise,
And give you peace when trials rise,
And sorrows gloom;
I write to fit you for the skies
On Day of Doom.
What, though you dwell in lowly cot,
And share through life a humble lot?
Some thousands wealth and fame have got,
Yet know no rest:
They build, pull down, and scheme and plot,
And die unblest.
Your mean attire and scanty fare
Are, doubtless, springs of bitter care —
Expose you blushing, trembling, bare,
To haughty scorn;
Yet murmur not in black despair,
Nor weep forlorn.
You see that lordling glittering ride
In all the pomp of wealth and pride,
With lady lolling at his side,
And train attendant:
’Tis all, when felt and fairly tried,
But care resplendent.
As riches grow his wants increase,
His passions burn and gnaw his peace,
Ambition foams like raging seas
And breaks the rein,
Excess produces pale disease
And racking pain.
Compared with him thrice happy you;
Though small your stock your wants are few —
Each wild desire your toils subdue,
And sweeten rest,
Remove all fancied ills from view,
And calm your breast.
Your labours give the coarsest food
A relish sweet and cleanse the blood,
Make cheerful health in spring-tide flood
Incessant boil,
And seldom restless thoughts obtrude
On daily toil.
Those relish least who proudly own
Rich groves and parks familiar grown;
The gazing stranger passing on
Enjoys them most —
The toy possessed — the pleasure’s flown,
For ever lost.
Then grateful let each murmur die,
And joyous wipe the tearful eye:
Erect a palace in the sky —
Be rich in grace:
Loathe this vain world, and longing sigh
For Jesu’s face.
Both rich and poor, who serve not God,
But live in sin, averse to good,
Rejecting Christ’s atoning blood,
Midst hellish shoals,
Shall welter in that fiery flood,
Which hissing rolls.
But all who worship God aright,
In Christ His Son and image bright,
With minds illumed by Gospel light,
Shall find the way
That leads to bliss, and take their flight
To heavenly day.
There rich and poor, and high and low,
Nor sin, nor pain, nor sorrow know:
There Christ with one eternal glow
Gives life and light —
There streams of pleasure ever flow,
And pure delight.
Christ says to all with sin oppressed,
“Come here, and taste of heavenly rest,
Receive Me as your friendly guest
Into your cots;
In Me you shall be rich and blest,
Though mean your lots.
“Behold My hands, My feet, My side,
All crimsoned with the bloody tide!
For you I wept, and bled, and died,
And rose again:
And thronèd at My Father’s side,
Now plead amain!
“Repent, and enter Mercy’s door,
And though you dwell in cots obscure,
All guilty, ragged, hungry, poor,
I give in love
A crown of gold, and pardon sure,
To each above.”
Then hear the kind, inviting voice —
Believing in the Lord rejoice;
Your souls will hymn the happy choice
To God on high,
Whilst joyful angels swell the noise
Throughout the sky.
A fond farewell! — each cottage friend,
To Jesu’s love I would commend
Your souls and bodies to the end
Of life’s rough way;
Then (death subdued) may you ascend
To endless day!
THE COTTAGER’S HYMN.
I.
My food is but spare,
And humble my cot,
Yet Jesus dwells there
And blesses my lot:
Though thinly I’m clad,
And tempests oft roll,
He’s raiment, and bread,
And drink to my soul.
II.
His presence is wealth,
His grace is a treasure,
His promise is health
And joy out of measure.
His word is my rest,
His spirit my guide:
In Him I am blest
Whatever betide.
III.
Since Jesus is mine,
Adieu to all sorrow;
I ne’er shall repine,
Nor think of to-morrow:
The lily so fair,
And raven so black,
He nurses with care,
&
nbsp; Then how shall I lack?
IV.
Each promise is sure,
That shines in His word,
And tells me, though poor,
I’m rich in my Lord.
Hence! Sorrow and Fear!
Since Jesus is nigh,
I’ll dry up each tear
And stifle each sigh.
V.
Though prince, duke, or lord,
Ne’er enter my shed,
King Jesus my board
With dainties does spread.
Since He is my guest,
For joy I shall sing,
And ever be blest
In Jesus my King.
VI.
With horrible din
Afflictions may swell, —
They cleanse me from sin,
They save me from hell:
They’re all but the rod
Of Jesus, in love;
They lead me to God
And blessings above.
VII.
Through sickness and pain
I flee to my Lord,
Sweet comfort to gain,
And health from His word;
Bleak scarcities raise
A keener desire,
To feed on His grace,
And wear His attire.
VIII.
The trials which frown,
Applied by His blood,
But plait me a crown,
And work for my good.
In praise I shall tell,
When throned in my rest,
The things which befell
Were always the best.
IX.
Whatever is hid
Shall burst on my sight
When hence I have fled
To glorious light.
Should chastisements lower,
Then let me resign;
Should kindnesses shower,
Let gratitude shine.
X.
Hence! Sorrow and Fear!
Since Jesus is nigh,
I’ll dry up each tear,
And stifle each sigh:
And clothed in His word
Will conquer my foes,
And follow my Lord
Wherever He goes.
XI.
My friends! let us fly
To Jesus our King;
And still as we hie,
Of grace let us sing.
Through pleasure and pain,
If faithful we prove,
For cots we shall gain
A palace above.
Finis.
TWO SERMONS
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER.
I wish the Reader to understand, that in preparing this Sermon for publication, I have condensed and shortened it, as much as the nature of circumstances would admit, in order, that as it was principally intended for the poorer classes of the people in Haworth, and the adjoining parishes, it should, both in the perusal and purchase, require as little as might be of their time and money. I am also desirous that the Reader should know, that it appeared to me to be a duty incumbent on some one, to afford them an opportunity of procuring, at an easy rate, a plain and practical statement of an extraordinary occurrence, of a monitory nature, which ought to be remembered and improved.
A SERMON, &c,
PSALM XCVII. 4, 5.
“His lightnings enlightened the world; the earth saw, and trembled. The hills melted like wax at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the Lord of the whole earth.”
THE Saviour of a lost world usually availed himself of all the advantages offered by incidental circumstances, calculated to convey moral and religious instruction to his hearers. The infinitely wise Redeemer selected this as the best method to awaken the drowsy, interest the indolent, inform the ignorant, and build up believers in their most holy faith.
Endeavouring, though at an immeasurable distance, to follow the example of our Lord, I would avail myself of the advantages now offered for moral and religious improvement, by the late Earthquake and extraordinary Eruption, which lately took place about four miles from this very church in which we are now assembled. You all know, that on the second day of this month of September, and in this present year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and twenty-four, at about six o’clock in the afternoon, two portions of the Moors in the neighbourhood sunk several yards, during a heavy storm of thunder, lightning, and rain, and issued forth a mighty volume of mud and water, that spread alarm, astonishment, and danger, along its course of many miles.
Previously to the issuing forth of this flood, as I learn from some who reside near the place, there was a very considerable tremour of the neighbouring parts, and I was able myself to perceive something of the kind, though at the distance of four miles. This circumstance, which was not noticed by many who live much nearer, requires some explanation, which I shall give you in a few words. As the day was exceedingly fine, I had sent my little children, who were indisposed, accompanied by the servants, to take an airing on the common, and as they stayed rather longer than I expected, I went to an upper chamber to look out for their return. The heavens over the moors were blackening fast. I heard muttering of distant thunder, and saw the frequent flashing of the lightning. Though, ten minutes before, there was scarcely a breath of air stirring; the gale freshened rapidly, and carried along with it clouds of dust and stubble; and, by this time, some large drops of rain, clearly announced an approaching heavy shower. My little family had escaped to a place of shelter, but I did not know it. I consequently watched every movement of the coming tempest with a painful degree of interest. The house was perfectly still. Under these circumstances, I heard a deep, distant explosion, something resembling, yet something differing from thunder, and I perceived a gentle tremour in the chamber in which I was standing, and in the glass of the window just before me, which, at the time, made an extraordinary impression on my mind; and which, I have no manner of doubt now, was the effect of an Earthquake at the place of eruption. This was a solemn visitation of Providence, which, by the help of God, I shall endeavour to improve.
By considering How and for what reason Earthquakes are produced.
And then by making some particular observations in reference to that Earthquake which forms the immediate object of our attention.
Previously to my endeavouring to show how, and for what reasons Earthquakes are produced, let me tell you, that as my object is, I trust, solely to edify my hearers, and to do them good, I shall labour to be plain, carefully guarding against all unnecessarily hard words and phrases used by chemists, and many of the learned, and which lie beyond the reach of the generality of hearers, in almost every congregation, both in town and country.
When we speak of an earthquake, we mean an extraordinary shaking of the earth to a very considerable extent, which sometimes, though not always, rends the surface of the ground, and pushes it sideways, or upwards, or causes it to sink lower than usual. Thus earthquakes have been in different ages and countries, the most dreadfully effective instruments of vengeance, which God has employed against his guilty creatures. Sometimes by earthquakes God has merely agitated the ground, and filled the inhabitants with terror. Sometimes he has caused wide and awful chasms to be made, but has destroyed no lives. Sometimes he has opened the flood-gates beneath, and produced standing pools of water; or, as in the case before us, overwhelming rivers that have borne down all before them. And sometimes by earthquakes he has let his vengeance fall in all its terror, shaking and sinking whole cities, with thousands of inhabitants, in a moment of time, and covering the ruins of men and houses over with one wide stagnant lake.
God occasionally, without the intervention of second causes, produces earthquakes, as he did at the destruction of Korah, Dathan and Abiram, with their rebellious adherents. But far more frequently he uses the elements as his instruments, which, however, does not make the work less his own, than if he were to effect his purpose by a miracle.
Sometimes earthquakes are produc
ed by certain inflammable substances, such as sulphur kindled underground, and causing an expansion, that struggles till it bursts its usual limits.
This fire underground may be produced in a variety of ways; by the friction or collision of bodies, as when fire is elicited by the rapid whirling of an axis upon wood or iron; or by the quick and forcible contact of flint and steel; or by some chemical process, such as the pouring of water on newly burnt limestone; or fires may be kindled at greater depths than we imagine, by lightning or electrical fluid, under some other modification.
Owing to some one of these causes, no doubt, Etna, Vesuvius, and other burning mountains, for several days before they disgorge liquid fire, shake to their very bases, and not unfrequently cause a tremour far beyond these, exhibiting earthquakes on the grandest and most appalling scale.
The kindling also by some of the aforesaid causes, of what miners usually call fire damps, and which are frequently to be found at the bottom of deep pits and wells, may produce such a convulsion and expansion as will constitute an earthquake. The dreadful effects of these fire-damps when kindled are but too well known in this country, to need an illustration; sometimes in deep and extensive coal-pits, where there is not a free and continual flow of air, explosions take place, that scorch and force all things round them; and, in an instant of time, hurry numbers of souls into eternity.
Water also is another cause of earthquakes, and the last that I shall mention. When a number of streams suddenly rush into one place under ground, which lies considerably below their respective sources, and especially when this water so collected is made to expand by extraordinary heat, arising from electrical fluid, or some other cause, like the too powerful expansion of water in an overcharged and overheated boiler, that trembles and bursts, it will make the earth that surrounds it to shake and rend, till the expanding element, urged on by the incumbent streams, obtains a vent, and either forms itself into a standing lake, or rolls onward in an impetuous torrent. This, in all probability, was the nature of the phenomenon we have under consideration; which, though it may be called by some the bursting of a bog or quagmire, had all the precursors, accompaniments, and results of an earthquake, and justly merits that appellation.
This shaking and opening of the earth, and eruption of mud and water, was preceded by a profound calm, and accompanied by a very high wind, and much lightning and thunder: and both before and after, the air was strongly electrified, as was manifest from the sultry heat, the frequent and vivid lightning and loud thunder, and the apparent mingling of the clouds, and their copper-coloured, and hazy, lowering gloom.
Delphi Complete Works of the Brontes Page 364
