Well,under all these troubles,the thing which I would recommend you to seek is one and the same-faith;faith in our Lord Jesus Christ,who made us and allotted to each his station.Each has something to do,brethren.Do it,therefore,but always in faith;without faith we shall find ourselves sometimes at fault;but with faith never-for faith can remove the difficulty.It will teach us to love life,brethren,when life is becoming bitter,and to prize the blessings around us;for as every man has his cares,brethren,so has each man his blessings.It will likewise teach us not to love life over much,seeing that we must one day part with it.It will teach us to face death with resignation,and will preserve us from sinking amidst the swelling of the river Jordan.'
And when he had concluded his address,he said,'Let us sing a hymn,one composed by Master Charles Wesley-he was my countryman,brethren.
'Jesus,I cast my soul on Thee,Mighty and merciful to save;Thou shalt to death go down with me,And lay me gently in the grave.
This body then shall rest in hope,This body which the worms destroy;For Thou shalt surely raise me up To glorious life and endless joy.'
Farewell,preacher with the plain coat and the calm serious look!
I saw thee once again,and that was lately-only the other day.
It was near a fishing hamlet,by the sea-side,that I saw the preacher again.He stood on the top of a steep monticle,used by pilots as a look-out for vessels approaching that coast,a dangerous one,abounding in rocks and quick-sands.There he stood on the monticle,preaching to weather-worn fishermen and mariners gathered below upon the sand.'Who is he?'said I to an old fisherman who stood beside me with a book of hymns in his hand;but the old man put his hand to his lips,and that was the only answer I received.Not a sound was heard but the voice of the preacher and the roaring of the waves;but the voice was heard loud above the roaring of the sea,for the preacher now spoke with power,and his voice was not that of one who hesitates.There he stood-no longer a young man,for his black locks were become gray,even like my own;but there was the intelligent face,and the calm serious look which had struck me of yore.There stood the preacher,one of those men-and,thank God,their number is not few-who,animated by the spirit of Christ,amidst much poverty,and,alas!much contempt,persist in carrying the light of the Gospel amidst the dark parishes of what,but for their instrumentality,would scarcely be Christian England.I would have waited till he had concluded,in order that I might speak to him,and endeavour to bring back the ancient scene to his recollection,but suddenly a man came hurrying towards the monticle,mounted on a speedy horse,and holding by the bridle one yet more speedy,and he whispered to me,'Why loiterest thou here?-knowest thou not all that is to be done before midnight?'and he flung me the bridle;and I mounted on the horse of great speed,and I followed the other,who had already galloped off.And as I departed,I waved my hand to him on the monticle,and I shouted,'Farewell,brother!the seed came up at last,after a long period!'and then I gave the speedy horse his way,and leaning over the shoulder of the galloping horse,I said,'Would that my life had been like his-even like that man's!'
I now wandered along the heath,till I came to a place where,beside a thick furze,sat a man,his eyes fixed intently on the red ball of the setting sun.
'That's not you,Jasper?'
'Indeed,brother!'
'I've not seen you for years.'
'How should you,brother?'
'What brings you here?'
'The fight,brother.'
'Where are the tents?'
'On the old spot,brother.'
'Any news since we parted?'
'Two deaths,brother.'
'Who are dead,Jasper?'
'Father and mother,brother.'
'Where did they die?'
'Where they were sent,brother.'
'And Mrs.Herne?'
'She's alive,brother.'
'Where is she now?'
'In Yorkshire,brother.'
'What is your opinion of death,Mr.Petulengro?'said I,as I sat down beside him.
'My opinion of death,brother,is much the same as that in the old song of Pharaoh,which I have heard my grandam sing-Cana marel o manus chivios ande puv,Ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi.
When a man dies,he is cast into the earth,and his wife and child sorrow over him.If he has neither wife nor child,then his father and mother,I suppose;and if he is quite alone in the world,why,then,he is cast into the earth,and there is an end of the matter.'
'And do you think that is the end of a man?'
'There's an end of him,brother,more's the pity.'
'Why do you say so?'
'Life is sweet,brother.'
'Do you think so?'
'Think so!-There's night and day,brother,both sweet things;sun,moon,and stars,brother,all sweet things;there's likewise a wind on the heath.Life is very sweet,brother;who would wish to die?'
'I would wish to die-'
'You talk like a gorgio-which is the same as talking like a fool-were you a Rommany Chal you would talk wiser.Wish to die,indeed!-A Rommany Chal would wish to live for ever!'
'In sickness,Jasper?'
'There's the sun and stars,brother.'
'In blindness,Jasper?'
'There's the wind on the heath,brother;if I could only feel that,I would gladly live for ever.Dosta,we'll now go to the tents and put on the gloves;and I'll try to make you feel what a sweet thing it is to be alive,brother!'