uestions, we may safely go into any path where duty lies." "We
never dread to hear people pray who pray truly and in the Spirit. They
may be unlearned. They may be intellectually weak. But if they pray
habitually in the closet, they will edify out of it."
Such is a poor, meagre account of this last precious Bible-reading.
Possibly some of the things here recorded belonged to previous
readings--though Mrs. Prentiss occasionally repeated remarks on points
to which she attached special importance. "Some good (she said) will
come of these meetings, I feel sure. It is impossible that you
should take so much pains, and some of you put yourselves to so much
inconvenience, in order to come here and study together God's Word--and
His blessing not follow." The blessing has already followed, good
measure, pressed down and running over, and it will continue to follow
in days to come; especially the blessings of this last meeting, when, in
a strain so sweet and tender--as though she had a new glimpse of heaven
and the heart of God--our beloved and now sainted teacher urged us to
bear witness for Christ and showed us so plainly how to do it.
At the close of the meeting she looked very pale and seemed much
exhausted. "You are ill, Mrs. Prentiss," said one of the ladies,
distressed by her appearance. "Yes," she said, "I _am_." Still, it
seemed a great pleasure to her to have met us once more. Nor can I help
thinking that, even if she herself had no presentiment of what was
coming, she was yet led of the Spirit, the blessed Comforter, to hold
this last Bible-reading. It was itself just such a testimony for Christ
as fitly crowned her consecrated and beautiful life.
Upon my return from the station with Dr. Vincent she met us on the
porch, bade him welcome to Dorset, told him with what extraordinary care
the girls had made ready his room, and appeared in excellent spirits all
the rest of the day. While at tea she expressed to Dr. V. our regret
that Dr. Poor could not have made his visit at the same time; although,
to be sure, they might, if together, have "brought the house down"
upon our heads by the explosions of their mirth. She then related some
amusing anecdotes of a queer, crotchety old domestic of ours in New
Bedford a third of a century ago, and of her delight when Dr. Poor
(then settled at Fair Haven, opposite New Bedford) got married, because
"_now_, it was to be hoped, he would stay at home with his wife and not
be coming
|