Before she could speak, if she had been weeping or signifying her desire to have anything she saw or wanted, in case she either observed or was told they were to go about worship in the family where she happened to be present, this silenced her immediately. And whatever edge had been upon her spirit before, and though the body had been somewhat uneasy, yet she was perfectly quiet, and waited with patience until the worship came to be ended. This was so native to her, I may say, as to the new nature, and because so usual and constant, that in case she happened to be
out of humour (which was not very frequent with her), the servants of the house would have put themselves into a posture of worship, by discovering1 their heads, or otherwise; whereupon she became instantly silent and quiet, and thus did these little disorders go off. So much of high estimation and profound reverence she discovered for the worship of God, even before she arrived at the second year of her age.
So soon as she could aim at speaking, she began to ask questions concerning God and the Creation, with other matters of religion. For instance, when she observed the sun shining, she inquired, “Whether that sun had shined on her grandfather and grandmother, and made them to see as well as us.” When it was answered, “That the same sun gave light to the whole world,” she replied, “Ought we not then to love that God who made all these things and gave them to us?” Many hundreds of such questions she proposed, and gave likewise such answers unto questions moved to her, which are forgotten and lost through inadvertency. Her wisdom and gravity were such, even in her infant years, that every one admired her, and they especially who saw her more rarely—for these qualities were less observed by them who were more ordinarily with her (though afterwards they remembered them, with regret for the want of her), in regard things of that nature and value became so common to those who were ordinarily in her company, that they took little notice of them.2
Some persons having overheard her craving a blessing before meat, and finding that she had expressions more weighty and significant than could well have been expected from one of her age, asked her hereupon who had taught her to crave a blessing to her meat after that manner. She answered, “That she had learned now and then a word from several persons, and that the Lord had set these words together, whereupon she had made a grace of them.” This happened before the third year of her age.
Much about the same time, having suspected that one of the servants of the house, being the maid who attended her, had cleaned a room on the Lord’s Day, she reproved her sharply in her childish manner, and said, “Away, begone, you sin against the Holy Spirit. You sweep the house on the Sabbath and profane the Lord’s Day. Neither could she be reconciled with her maid, until it was found to be a mistake, and thereupon she was satisfied, the matter of fact having been found otherwise.
About the same time a servant, who was newly come to the house, used the devil’s name in a way of cursing in presence of his other fellow-servants. She, being at that time with her nurse, reproved him sharply, and said, “Henry, if you do this again, I’ll tell God on you.” He, being a wanton youth, answered her
1 Discovering—i.e., uncovering. See this old use of the word in our common translation of Isaiah xxii. 8.
2 “Hence it was,” says the compiler, “that the small fragments we have were mostly taken notice of by strangers.”
scoffingly, “Go then and do so.” Hereupon she went to the next room, and one followed her at a distance, without her knowledge, to observe her behaviour. She fell upon her knees, and continued in that posture for awhile. Afterwards she returned to the company, but spoke nothing until the same young man mockingly inquired, “Have you now told God?” She answered gravely, “Yea, I have; and the Lord says if you continue to do so He will give you away to the devil, and cast you into hell. Whereupon the youth was astonished, and did carry more circumspectly for some years wherein he served in that family. Nay, after he had been seven years out of the family, and was put in memory of that reproof by one who had heard him swear, the consideration thereof made him to fall a weeping, and to beg pardon, saying he ought never to have forgotten such a reproof.
Being in company with a woman who was struggling with dreadful temptations, and who thereupon became afraid to be in a room alone, the child offered to go out of the room, and the woman endeavoured to detain her, saying, “You must by no means go away.” Yet the babe went forward till she was near the door, and then she looked back and said, with a strong and sharper voice than ordinary, “God is with you, and will keep you from all evil!” The tempted woman, having heard the child speak so pertinently, did presently say in her heart, “This is not the voice of the child, but of the Lord!” And the dispensation was so blessed to her that the temptations vanished gradually from that time forward, and did never recur.
At another time, when she was observed to be very attentive unto the word read and heard, and to be much in secret prayer, as also diligent in pressing others to that duty, an old experienced Christian, R. W., met her in return from her chamber, and said to her, “Have you been at your prayers?” She answered, “Yes;” and added, “When I was a child my mother taught me to pray, but now the Lord teaches me.” The honest man inquired hereupon, “How know you the Lord’s teaching by that of your mother?” She answered, “The Lord makes me both to rejoice and to weep; he makes my heart glad, and gives me new words.”
Some godly people having met together for prayer and conference, her mother took her along, and still1 her inclinations carried her to be in such societies. After they had met, the meeting having consisted of some old experienced Christians and others who were but beginning to point2 that way, a debate arose which of them should pray first. Some were for the elder, and others for the younger set. The child not being four years of age, and sitting at her mother’s feet, none of the company took notice of her because of her nonage. Hearing the dispute she said, “I’m the youngest of all; I’ll begin.” Upon which the whole company was silent excepting the mother, who reproved her child for inso-
1 Always.
2 Turn their thoughts to.
lence in troubling the meeting with her fond1 offer, in regard she had never prayed in such company before, nor had been ever invited, because of her childhood. There was at that time in the company an old experienced matron upon whom the society had laid it to begin their meeting with prayer; she said, “My child, you shall have my consent to begin,” and did prevail so far with her mother and the company that it was allowed. This is the only instance wherein she expressed any forwardness: for such was her modesty and bashfulness afterward that she would never adventure upon that duty in societies without much entreating and a clear call. Yet the passage is set down, because a young gentlewoman who had but newly set out, and had been present at very few, if any, such meetings before, was so moved with several expressions the child had in prayer, that she held on in the Lord’s way ever afterward,2 and acknowledged that the Lord blessed the child’s praying at that time, and that she really got good by it. A renewed confirmation that “out of the mouth of babes and sucklings the Lord ordaineth strength.”
She was observed to weep much alone, but was utterly unwilling that it should be known; and because of this aversion she was very careful to wash her face quietly, and to put herself into such a posture as might best conceal her having wept. And in case she heard any person speaking to her advantage, and repeating any of her sayings or practices, she would have gone off and hid herself, or else would have wept.
A godly minister inadvertently said to her, “I would not give a halfpenny for a child’s religion;” the words made such a deep impression upon her spirit that she went on her way with much heaviness for a long time, and took the occasion for moving the question to any judicious and godly persons she had opportunity to meet with, whether they knew any good and religious children who continued such when they were old?3
One day, when her mother had reproved her for not giving a good enough account of her lesson, she was afterwards found weeping. Being asked, “Why weep you?—you were not beaten?” she answered, “I had rather been beaten than that I had angered my mother; the thoughts of my mother’s being angry make me to weep.”
Being sore tossed in wrestling with temptations, she went to a godly woman with whom she frequently conversed about her
1 Foolish.
2 In spite of the persecutions that arose, in which many sealed the truth with their blood.
3 Should not this remind us of our Lord’s solemn warning—”Whoso shall offend (i.e., cause to stumble) one of these little ones that believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea.” “Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones: for I say unto you, that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven” (Matt. xviii. 6-10). Angels, the very highest and most honoured angels, do not disdain to minister for these little ones, for the Lord does not disdain to send them to take care of such (Heb. i. 14).
spiritual cases. She, finding her at this time sore troubled, did ask the cause. She answered, “Alas! the devil takes the good word out of the very bottom of my heart; and often he says to me, ‘What needs all this noise with your religion?’ These and the like temptations,” said she, “I am vexed with.” Being inquired what course she took with them she replied, “That she knew no other way but to carry them in before the Lord by prayer; and I desire,” said she, “that you would pray, and bid godly people pray for me, for my prayers have no strength, nor theirs either, without Christ.”
Being on a certain day in a good dress, with her linens white, and adorned with red ribbons, a godly man, R. W., said to her thereupon, “No doubt you think yourself to be very trim and clean.” She replied, “I shall never think that until I get on the fair and clean robe of Christ’s imputed righteousness, and then I shall be truly fine and clean.”
Some while afterward she fell sick, and her bed being made she was laid in it, whereupon one of the company said, “This is well, she will now get rest.” She, overhearing, answered, “I am rejoicing at another thing, and that is, that there is a rest prepared for the people of God (Heb. iv. 9), among whom I hope to be found; there I shall sing for evermore.” Then she called for her father, who came and asked what she would1 say. She answered, “Pray. Let us pray together here, and we will sing the more sweetly when we come to our rest.”
When first she began to be more sensibly profited by hearing the word preached, and to give clear evidences of her being edified thereby, this instance among others is memorable. A minister having preached upon a Sabbath on these words—”In this mountain shall the Lord of hosts make unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wines upon the lees,” &c. (Isaiah xxv. 6), she declared she found the word very sweet to her, and that it did her good. Being inquired what good she found in it, and how it did her good, she answered, “It did go through her bones; it went into her heart, and brought tears to this place,” pointing with her finger to her eyelids.
Much about the same time she was desired to pray with some others just after she had risen from her bed. She refused, saying, “How can you bid me pray, seeing my prayers can bring no comfort; but yours may.'” They insisted further; she refused absolutely, and told them “I am but just now got out of my bed, and will pray none in company until first I have prayed alone.”
When at a certain time she was lying in her bed in a morning, and was overheard weeping, a friend came to her and inquired what troubled her. She first declined to tell, but being further urged, her answer was, “I have been meditating on hell, and the darkness of it, and I think I cannot endure it.”
1 Wish’d to say.
Being in a garden on a Sabbath day, and having seen some children playing together, she, rebuking them, said, “It were better for you to be praying.” They answered, “We are but children.” She replied, “Though we be but children, yet we must die,” and thereupon she went from them and hid herself in a corner. Some of the children went about and sought her, and having found her at prayer in a secret corner, they reproached and upbraided her with nicknames. She answered them meekly and gravely, “Know ye not that the Word of God saith ‘Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day?'” The children replied, “The word does not say ‘Emilia Geddie, keep holy the Sabbath day.'” Emily answered, “The Word of God says to you, and you and me and to all, ‘Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.'” They replied to her, “You are a violent young Whig,1 but we will slay you.” She answered, “Well, I will complain to God on you.” They replied, “You may do so.” Then she retired from them to the house; and after some time they sought her out again, and having found her, they said, “Now, Emily, have you told God on us?” “Yes, I have,” said she. They replied scoffingly, “Well, what says God?” She answered, “The Lord saith this, ‘The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all that forget God.'” (Ps. ix. 17.)
When first she began to read the Assembly’s Shorter Catechism she said to her teacher, “I think the Bible is God’s word and the Catechism is the Bible’s word.”
One having read this passage of Scripture, “Rend your hearts and not your garments” (Joel ii. 13) the child said, “I think this reproves the Papists and their ways of penance, for God calls for nothing but the breaking and humbling of the heart.”
Having come at a time from one of her young societies, which she had gathered together for prayer, she was asked by a person, “Who prayed best?” “I cannot tell,” said she, “who prayed best, but I can tell those whose words came best forth,” and named one R. I. Being inquired at another time after she came from her praying society of children, she gave this account—namely, “that one, G. W., has most of his prayers about the rulers, and another, M. G., was much taken up about the churches abroad.”
A captain of the forces, having come into her father’s house, said to her, “Emily, I will marry you.” She answered, “No.” He inquired her reason. She replied, “You have no grace.” “Have you any?” said the captain. She answered, “Whatever I have, you have none: for if you had, you would not do the bishop’s bidding to take the honest ministers and persecute all the godly praying folk.”
1 The name given to those who exposed themselves to persecution because they continued to hear the Word of God from the lips of Presbyterian ministers, when the Prelatic bishops made a law that every one must attend the curate of his own parish.—See Cruickshank’s History, chap. vii.
A company being engaged in converse, and each one proposing to his neighbour which of the saints he would chiefly desire to resemble, she being present, said, “I would fain be like David.” “Would you be a king?” said one. “No,” said she, “but I would gladly be in David’s case. He was a man according to God’s heart; he dwelt near God, and in the light of God’s countenance.
She was most attentive in reading the Scripture and the Catechisms, and did observe carefully what she had read. She came one day to her father, and proposed that question—namely, “Why it was that in the Fourth Commandment, to keep holy the Sabbath, the wife is not particularly mentioned, and yet others of the family are set down, as sons, daughters, and servants? And she observed that in the Tenth Commandment the wife is particularly named amongst other things of our neighbour’s which we may not covet, and the daughter is not mentioned in that command.” Her father asked her, “What she thought was the reason?” She answered, “That the general words ‘of all that is within thy gates’ comprehended every person,” and so the matter ended.
(To be continued.)