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dismay occasioned by having left everything to the last minute. First some one was sent for to make over the yellow heaps to another, which the heaper now found would be of no use to himself in shooting the gulf; a transfer which ought to have been made while the tenement was sound. Then there was a consultation between two or three masons at once, perhaps, to try to patch up the walls, and strengthen the props, and stop the decays of the tumbling tenement; but not till the masons were forced to declare it was past repairing (a truth they were rather too apt to keep back,) did the tenant seriously think it was time to pack up, prepare, and begone. Then what sending for the wise men who professed to explain the title-deed! And, oh! what remorse that they had neglected to examine it till their senses were too confused for so weighty a business ! What reproaches, or what exhortations to others, to look better after their own affairs than they had done! Even to the wisest of the inhabitants, the falling of their tenements was a solemn thing; solemn, but not surprising; they had long been packing up, and preparing; they praised the Lord's goodness, that they had been suffered to stay so long; many acknowledged the mercy of their frequent warnings, and confessed that those very dilapidations which had made the house uncomfortable had been a blessing, as it had set them on diligent preparation for their future inheritance; had made them more earnest in examining their title to it, and had set them on such a frequent application to the telescope, that the things above had seemed every day to approach nearer and nearer, and the things below to recede and vanish in proportion. These desired not to be
unclothed, but to be clothed upon, for they knew that if their tabernacle was dissolved, they had an house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."
THE VALLEY OF TEARS,
A VISION ;
OR, BEAR YE ONE ANOTHER'S BURDENS.
ONCE upon a time, methought I set out upon a long journey, and the place through which I travelled appeared to be a dark valley, which was called the Valley of Tears. It had obtained this name, not only on account of the many sorrowful adventures which poor passengers 'commonly meet with in their journey through it; but also because most of these travellers entered it weeping and crying, and left it in very great pain and anguish. This vast valley was full of people of all colours, ages, sizes, and descriptions. But whether white, or black, or tawny, all were travelling the same road; or rather they were taking different little paths which all led to the same common end.
Now it was remarkable, that notwithstanding the different complexions, ages, and tempers of this vast variety of people, yet all resembled each other in this one respect, that each had a burden on his back, which he was destined to carry through the toil and heat of the day, until he should arrive, by a longer or shorter course, at his journey's end. These burdens would in general have made the pilgrimage quite intolerable, had not the
Lord of the Valley, out of his great compassion for these poor pilgrims,
In their full view over the entrance of the valley, there were written,
Bear ye one another's Burdens.
I stood still to watch the progress of these poor wayfaring people, who
and saw it was made up of many sad articles; there were poverty, oppression, sickness, debt, and, what made by far the heaviest part, undutiful children. I was wondering how it was that he got on even so well as he did, till I spied his wife, a kind, meek, Christian woman, who was doing her utmost to assist him. She quietly got behind, gently laid her shoulder to the burden, and carried a much larger proportion of it than appeared to me when I was at a distance. It was not the smallest part of the benefit that she was anxious to conceal it. She not only sustained him by her strength, but cheered him by her counsels. She told him, that “ through much tribulation we must enter into rest;" that “ he that overcometh shall inherit all things.” In short, she so supported his fainting spirit, that he was enabled to “run with patience the race that was set before him."
The Kind Neighbour. An infirm blind-woman was creeping forward with a very heavy burden, in which were packed sickness and want, with numberless other of those raw materials, out of which human misery is worked up. She was so weak, that she could not have got on at all, had it not been for the kind assistance of another woman almost as poor as herself; who, though she had no light burden of her own, cheerfully lent a helping hand to a fellow-traveller who was still more heavily laden. This friend had indeed little or nothing to give, but the very voice of kindness is soothing to the weary. And I remarked in many other cases, that it was not so much the degree of the help afforded, as the manner of helping, that lightened the burdens. Some had a coarse, rough, clumsy way of assisting a neighbour, which, though in fact it might be of real use, yet seemed, by galling the traveller, to add to the load it was intended to lighten ; while I observed in others, that so cheap a kindness as a mild word, or even an affectionate look, made a poor burdened wretch move on cheerily. The bare feeling that some human being cared for him, seemed to lighten the load. But to return to this kind neighbour. She had a little old book in her hand, the covers of which were worn out by much use. When she saw the blind woman ready to faint, she would read her a few words out of this book, such as the following—“ Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”- “ Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.”—“ I will never leave thee nor forsake thee."“ For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh out for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." These quickened the pace and sustained the spirits of the blind traveller : and the kind neighbour, by thus directing the attention of the poor sufferer to the blessings of a better world, helped to enable her to sustain the afflictions of this more effectually than if she had had gold and silver to bestow on her.
The Clergyman. A pious minister, sinking under the weight of a distressed parish, whose worldly wants he was totally unable to bear, was suddenly relieved by a charitable widow, who came up, and took all the sick and hungry on her own shoulders, as her part of the load. The burden of the parish
thus divided became tolerable. The minister, being no longer bowed down by the temporal distresses of his people, applied himself cheerfully to his own part of the weight. And it was pleasant to see how those two persons, neither of them very strong, or rich, or healthy, by thus kindly uniting together, were enabled to bear the weight of a whole parish; though, singly, either of them must have sunk under the attempt. And I remember one great grief I felt during my whole journey was, that I did not see more of this union and concurring kindness, more of this acting in concert, by which all the burdens might have been so easily divided. It troubled me to observe, that of all the laws of the valley, there was not one more frequently broken than “ the law of kindness.”
The Negroes. I now spied a swarm of poor black men, women, and children, a multitude which no man could number; these groaned, and toiled, and sweated, and bled under far heavier loads than I had yet seen. But for a while no man helped them; at length a few white travellers were touched with the sorrowful sighing of those millions, and very heartily did they put their hands to the burdens; but their number was not quite equal to the work they had undertaken. I perceived, however, that they never lost sight of those poor heavy-laden wretches: though often repulsed, they returned again to the charge; though discomfited, they renewed the effort, and some even pledged themselves to an annual attempt till the project was accomplished; and as the number of these generous helpers increased every year, I felt a comfortable hope, that before all the blacks got out of the valley, the whites would fairly divide the burden, and the loads would be effectually lightened *.
Among the travellers, I had occasion to remark, that those who most kicked and struggled under their burdens, only made them so much the heavier, for their shoulders became extremely galled by those vain and ineffectual struggles. The load, if borne patiently, would in the end have turned even to the advantage of the bearers, for so the Lord of the Valley had kindly decreed; but as to these grumblers, they had all the smart, and none of the benefit; they had the present suffering, without the future reward. But the thing which made all these burdens seem so very heavy was, that in every one, without exception, there was a certain inner packet, which most of the travellers took pains to conceal, and kept carefully wrapt up; and while they were forward enough to complain of the other part of their burdens, few said a word about this; though in truth it was the pressing weight of this secret packet which served to render the general burden so intolerable. In spite of all their caution, I contrived to get a peep at it. I found in each that this packet had the same label; the word sin was written on all as a general title, and in ink so black, that they could not wash it out. I observed that most of them took no small pains to hide the writing; but I was surprised to see that they did not try to get rid of the load, but the label. If
any kind friend who assisted these people in bearing their burdens, did but so much as hint at the secret packet, or advise them to get rid of it, they took fire at once, and commonly denied they had any such article in their portmanteau; and it was those whose secret packet swelled to the most enormous size, who most stoutly denied they had any.
* This philanthropic hope the amiable writer lived to see realised.
I saw with pleasure, however, that some who had long laboured heartily to get rid of this inward packet, at length found it much diminished; and the more this packet shrunk in size, the lighter was the other part of their burdens also. I observed, moreover, that though the label always remained in some degree indelible, yet that those who were earnest to get rid of the load, found that the original traces of the label grew fainter also; it was never quite obliterated in any, though in some cases it seemed nearly effaced.
Then, methought, all at once I heard a voice, as it had been the voice of an angel, crying out, and saying, “ Ye unhappy pilgrims, why are ye troubled about the burden which ye are doomed to bear through this valley of tears? Know ye not, that as soon as ye shall have escaped out of this valley, the whole burden shall drop off, provided ye neglect not to remove that inward weight, that secret load of sin, which principally oppresses you? Study, then, the whole will of the Lord of this Valley. Learn from him how this heavy part of your burdens may now be lessened, and how, at last, it shall be removed for ever. Be comforted. Faith and hope may cheer you even in this valley. The passage, though it seems long to weary travellers, is comparatively short; for beyond there is a land of everlasting rest, where ye shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; where ye shall be led to living fountains of waters, and all tears shall be wiped away from your eyes.”
THE STRAIT GATE AND THE BROAD WAY.
Now I had a second vision of what was passing in the Valley of Tears. Methought I saw again the same kind of travellers whom I had seen in the former part, and they were wandering at large through the same vast wilderness. At first setting out on his journey, each traveller had a small lamp, so fixed in his bosom that it seemed to make a part of bimself; but as this natural light did not prove to be sufficient to direct them in the right way, the King of the country, in pity to their wanderings and their blindness, out of his gracious condescension, promised to give these poor wayfaring people an additional supply of light from his own royal treasury. But, as he did not choose to lavish his favours where there seemed no disposition to receive them, he would not bestow any of his oil on such as did not think it worth asking for. “ Ask, and
shall have,” was the universal rule laid down for them. But, though they knew the condition of the obligation, many were prevented from asking through pride and vanity, for they thought they had light enough already, preferring the feeble glimmerings of their own lamp, to all the offered light from the King's treasury. Yet it was observed of those who rejected it, as thinking they had enough, that hardly any acted up to what even their own natural light showed them. Others were deterred from asking, because they were told that this light not only pointed out