Sunday. Sept. 18.

Went to church with B & A in the wheelbarrow. If this were likely to last, I wd. not go; and as it is, I am not clear—indeed I am afraid I am clear, that I am not doing right. But my disposition is a yielding one. I have a constitutional dislike of all contention; & therefore I suppose I prefer contending with myself, to contending with other people .. because I am weaker than they are.

On the road, Bummy observed, “Most likely, you are preparing for your journey on Monday.” She had penetrated, not heard of, my dream about Maddox. Yes! I see that I can go.

A better sermon from Mr. Dean, than any I had ever before listened to, from him. Mrs. Cliffe & Eliza accompanied us home, because Mr. Allen Cliffe excommunicated them from his congregation. Bro & Sam wd. belong to it, & heard a very decent discourse on responsibilities.

We went down to our gate, where Mr. Moens[1] was Mr. Curzon’s substitute. “The Lord is my salvation.”[2] He is a converted Jew; & his sermon was most touching & interesting—& made the tears come into my eyes more than once. The simplicity which is in Christ, is in this disciple of Christ. There is something irresistibly winning in his very manner. Dear old man!— He met Papa in London, two months ago, on the morning on which he heard of the death of dear Mary; & walked with him for more than two miles. “Blessed are the dead”, he exclaimed when telling us of this meeting, “who die in the Lord; for they rest from their labours.”[3]

This evening, Henrietta proposed inviting Mrs. Griffith to drink tea here tomorrow,—upon which, Bummy insisted on my returning from Malvern sooner than I shd. otherwise do!! I was annoyed & said so—& even refused going at all, in the case of my being obliged to come back, by anything else than darkness. Henrietta need not have asked Mrs. G tomorrow,—nor, if she had asked her, need I have been forced to receive her company. But the point was yielded at last—of course by me!— Not much to yield, after all. No letters.

1. Rev. S.B. Moens, minister of Kenchester Chapel, Herefordshire.

2. Psalms xxvii.1: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”

3. Rev. xiv.13: “And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them.”


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