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host for some supposed neglect, called her child by his name.
"Mothers love, and love for ever." The affection of a mother to her new-born infant is one of the most powerful and active of the natural instincts. But mothers "may forget." This unhappy child was abandoned by his parents in early infancy, and was never, to the end of life, favoured with a single expression of a mother's kindness. He was thus an orphan, not by the bereaving hand of God, but by the cold neglect of those who ought to have been his most affectionate guardians. The tincture of his skin he knew to be an obstacle to his being identified in interest and in life with those among whom he dwelt. His susceptible mind soon began to feel its forlorn condition. In the bitterness of his grief, he must often have uttered his complaint in language like the following:—" Let the day perish wherein I was born; let darkness and the shadow of death stain it." His mother refused to visit him or to see him. Tradition says, that when a lad, he providentially met his mother in an adjoining town, at the house of a relative; and then he fondly expected that he should at least receive some kind attentions from her. But he was sadly disappointed. She was determined to elude the interview. At length he caught a glimpse of her as she was attempting to escape from him. Vexed and mortified at such an instance of unnatural contempt from his mother, he accosted her in the language of severe but merited rebuke.*
Though thus contending with troubles which would have destroyed the elasticity of common minds, an unseen hand had been directing the destinies of the poor boy. A remarkable providence had placed him, in early infancy, in a kind and religious family, where all his wants were well supplied. Now he realized the "orphan's hope"—" When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up." This part of the story can be best told in his own simple language :—
* " Mater! tu non timebas semel; si timueras,—me a graviasuno
dolofe, atque te ipsam, a maximo pudore, servmvisaes."
"When I was five months old I was carried to Granville, Massachusetts, and bound out as a servant to Deacon David Rose till I was twenty-one. He was a man of singular piety.* I was taught the principles of religion. His wife, my mistress, had peculiar attachment to me: she treated me as though I was her own child. I remember it was a saying among the neighbours, that she loved Lemuel more than her own children." • The people of Middle Granville, among whom he passed the first thirty-two years of his life, were a choice company of emigrants from Durham, Connecticut. They had been brought up under the ministry of the Rev. Nathaniel Chauncey, and he had consecrated most of them, in their infancy, with the sacramental water. They possessed the bold and intelligent spirit which usually marks the character of those who break away from the home of their fathers, and encounter the perils and privations of a rugged desert. That they possessed their full share of intellectual worth is manifest from the fact, that of the youth in this small parish, with a population of less than seven hundred, one has become a member of Congress, one a judge of the superior court, and as many as fourteen have entered the office of the Christian ministry. Deacon Rose was one of the first settlers, and a practical agriculturist. Having a farm to subdue that was covered with thick forest, Lemuel had the simple and hardy education common to these mountainous regions. The God of the forlorn sent him into this religious family, where the Sabbath was sanctified, daily prayer offered, and the evening preceding the Sabbath sacredly employed in the religious instruction of the household. In this beloved retreat he found a home, not only till he was "twentyone," but until his ordination as a minister of the gospel. Thus removed from the low and froward associates to which such a child must have been exposed in many places, he was here trained up under the influence of pious example, and his mind was early imbued with religious knowledge. A more suitable place could not have been found. As a servant-boy, he was strictly and firmly faithful to his trust; so that any one acquainted with him would not be inclined to inquire with Solomon, Prov. xx., 6, "A faithful man who can find?" Indeed, but few years had passed over his head before he discovered such prudence in the management of his master's business, that the oversight of it was almost wholly committed to him. If a horse was to be purchased, Lemuel was the purchaser. He went unbidden to his daily toils and cares, and every thing prospered in his hands.
* Deacon Rose was remarkable for his spirituality and communion with God. He was often called in to pray with the sick and the dying, and he was endowed with the gift, and especially with the spirit of prayer. Such was his holy walk with God, that his face seemed to shine, like that of Moses after he had been with God on the mount. He felt tenderly concerned for the salvation of sinners, and, as he had opportunity, solemnly admonished them, and often with good effect. It is related, in illustration of his character in this respect, that, on going one morning into a neighbour's house, he said to the woman—"Good morning: how do you doT How does your soul do?" This salutation was uttered with so much tenderness, that the woman was instantly brought under pungent conviction of sin, which soon resulted in a hope in the Lord Jesus unto salvation.
When he was a small boy he experienced a dreadful alarm in a thunder-storm, which made an impression that was never effaced. The circumstances of this affecting event he used to relate to his family in nearly the following words: "One evening, as I was left at home alone, a dark cloud came over, and the air was filled with streams of lightning, and with terrible peals of thunder, and the house shook. At first I had fearful apprehension that the last great day was come, and that the world would be burnt up. My mind was filled with solemn awe of God's great power and majesty. I was afraid of being struck dead and sent to hell. I had a solemn conviction that I was unprepared, and that it would be a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
To what extent the scenes of this evening affected his tender and thoughtful mind is not fully known. It is stated, however, that he retained the impression which the solitude of his condition, and especially his view of his unfitness to die, were calculated to make. Ever after he was peculiarly affected during thunderstorms, and never failed to allude to them in prayer in terms of grateful recollection. Of these the following is a specimen: "We thank thee that thy lightning's awful blaze has not consumed our dwelling, nor been commissioned to burn the thread of life as in a moment." If a storm of thunder arose during the hour of worship in his family, it was their custom to sing Watts's hymn, entitled, "God the Thunderer; or, the Last Judgment and Hell."
And thou, O earth! adore;
"His sounding chariot shakes the sky,
He makes the clouds his throne;
There all his stores of lightning lie
Till vengeance dart them down.
"His nostrils breathe out fiery streams,
And from his awful tongue
"Think, O my soul! the dreadful day
When this incensed God
"What shall the wretch, the sinner do?
He once defied the Lord!
"Tempests of angry fire shall roll,
To blast the rebel worm,
About the same time he experienced a wonderful deliverance from perishing in the water. He had gone, with a number of his mates, to bathe in the river. It was one of his first attempts in learning to swim. While they were amusing themselves near the shore, Lemuel ventured beyond his depth, and soon sunk in deep water. His young friends had not the skill, nor even the power, to save him. In his allusions to this memorable event of his life, he used to say—" I immediately sunk to the bottom, and should without doubt have been drowned, had not a friend, who was not far off, plunged into the water and conveyed me to the