CHAPTER III.
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CHAPTER III.
Sudden Death of James Crocker--Conversion and Happy Death of his Daughter, Maria Crocker.
AS long as Mr. Davis remained overseer of Stourton Caundle, so long James Crocker received the shilling per week, which had been abstracted from his weekly allowance by the vestry. But when Mr. Davis vacated that office, his successor reduced James Crocker's pay, on the plea that he ought to work. Mr. Davis remonstrated that Crocker was physically unable to work from disease, and that if compelled to work, his life would be shortened. His successor curtly replied, that Crocker was a great burden to the parish, and the sooner the parish was relieved of that burden the better. Mr. Davis made answer, "On account of your refusal to continue his relief, I shall employ him on my farm, and shall give him the lightest work I have to do. But remember, should he die through my employing of him, that you will be his murderer in the sight of God." On the 6th of November 1819, Mr. Davis announced his death to me in a letter, from which this is an extract: "Oh, sir, what a very melancholy accident have I been witness to this day! Oh that it may make me more in earnest for my soul's salvation. This
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morning James Crocker was at work for me. I sent him a little more than a quarter of a mile to shut a gate the sportsmen had left open. Thinking that he stayed longer than usual, I went to look for him, fearing that he might have fallen down in a fit. Shocking to relate, I found that he had fallen in a fit, and was quite dead. Oh that I could have been with him in his dying moments! But the Lord, in His wise purpose, ordered it otherwise. I hope and trust that his God was with him, and that his soul is now safely lodged in his Saviour's arms, far from this troublesome world of sin and sorrow. I believe that he was a humble, though not a rejoicing, Christian, savingly blessed in Christ. I informed you of his pay having been shortened as soon as my account as overseer was closed. When the poor man found this, he desired me to let him have a few days' work. Consequently, I have since hired him all opportunities. But I consider that he was not in a fit state to be left alone, or to go out to work. I trust his death will be a warning to the parish for the future, not to compel a man so diseased to labour for his maintenance." James Crocker was, I believe, one of Christ's little ones. His faith was weak. His knowledge was imperfect. But his soul seemed stayed on Christ, and now, I trust, reposes in the bosom of Abraham in the Paradise of God.
"There the wicked cease from troubling, And there the weary are at rest."
After the death of James Crocker, his two daughters, Hannah and Maria, were exposed, in common with others, to systematic temptation then locally practised. Wicked-
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ness in high places showered down golden baits to seduce the young cottagers from the paths of morality and religion. But God was with them. His grace was all-sufficient. Hannah exerted her influence for the moral and spiritual good of her younger sister. Faith was evidenced by its fruits. They could say with Joseph, "How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" Hannah posted to me at Ventnor the following narrative of her sister's conversion to God and sleep in Jesus:--
"GAINSBURY, MlLBORNE PORT,
SOMERSET, July 1856.
"REVEREND AND RESPECTED SIR,--I have long had an impression on my mind, that it was my duty to write to you about my dear departed sister, Maria Crocker, as you were so kind to instruct us, when we were little ignorant children, in the things that make for our eternal welfare. We were like wandering lambs; your school a rich pasture, and yourself a kind shepherd. It was in that delightful pasture, whilst feeding on the truths of the Gospel, that I experienced the new birth. But I must return to the subject of this letter. About two years after my own conversion, my sister began to be very uneasy about her spiritual state. She became serious, gave up her young trifling companions, and began to read the Bible with prayer. And the more she read and prayed, the deeper insight she had into her fallen state. I shall never forget her agitated looks, her tears, and anxious inquiries. I never saw a person in deeper distress of mind, or more humbled on account of sin. I felt great
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pleasure in pointing my weeping sister to Mount Calvary, where you had previously directed my attention. It cost her many tears and struggles to believe and cast her load on Jesus. At length the cloud was dispersed, and she found peace and joy in believing. This happy event was recorded by the following passage, written on a blank leaf of a Bible which was given to her when a scholar as a reward:--'Unto you, therefore, that believe, He is precious.' A blessed change followed. Her cheerful countenance gave evidence of it, and showed that she had drawn virtue from Jesus. It was also a cordial to me, as, having heard her sad complaints, and witnessed her penitential tears, I felt also a portion of her grief. But now we rejoiced together, and spent many happy years in each other's society. The Sabbath was a day of delight, and the ordinances of God's house manna to our souls, and afforded matter for conversation during the week whilst sitting engaged at our work. She did indeed devote her youth to God. I found her a great help to me in spiritual things, and grew the faster in grace from the benefit of her society. We had precious seasons in prayer in the little room, once my father's shop, where you have often explained the Scriptures to us. I love to think of that room. Maria would make it echo with her songs of praise. Little did I think she would be called to 'sing the Lamb in hymns above' so long before me, for her health was at that period much better than mine.
"But a heavy trial lay before her. She became the subject of deep affliction, and was confined to her bed for the space of five years and ten months. When her health
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began to decline, her spirits were depressed, chiefly on account of being deprived of the public means of grace, a feeling similar to that expressed in the 42d Psalm,--'When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me, for I had gone with the multitude. I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with the multitude that kept holy day.' The first day on which she was unable to rise from her bed she exclaimed, 'It is all over, Hannah! I shall praise God in heaven.' I said, 'Are you happy, Maria?' She replied, 'Yes; but this is very solemn. I feel accepted in the Beloved.' And then, as if a sudden light had broken in upon her, she revived and said, 'Adieu! adieu! farewell world! I wish my brother was here to see how a Christian can die. By this bedside I sought the Lord, and now I feel His presence. Oh, how happy I am! I knew He would come in such an hour as this, but I could not have imagined the happiness I feel.' I wish, sir, you could have seen your Sunday scholar on that memorable day. These raptures soon subsided into a calm. She could now only talk at intervals, through excessive weakness, but her confidence in God was strong. She laid hold of the promises, especially these,--'Thy shoes shall be iron and brass. Underneath and around are the everlasting arms.' When only able to speak in a whisper, she would ask for her Bible. It was her daily companion for many years, and it proved a precious cordial on the bed of suffering, and her daily food. On being much convulsed, after reviving she said, 'My dear Hannah, you need not grieve; these are precious seasons to me; it is a welcome voice that tells me Jesus
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reigns.' She was indeed a lovely flower in the garden of the Lord, and though it may in some measure be said of her that she was 'born to blush unseen,' yet there were a few Christian friends who often found her sick-chamber to be none other than the house of God and the gate of heaven. Religion was her delight in health, and it never shone so bright as in her calm submission under the afflicting rod, meekly saying, 'My Father's hand prepares the cup, and what He wills is best' The last few weeks of her life her sufferings greatly increased, and it was evident she was fast sinking. She spoke composedly of the grave as a quiet resting-place. She requested me to make her burial dress, and talked cheerfully of the time when she should have it on, saying, 'You must look on me when in this dress, and triumph! Oh, how refreshing will the cold streams of Jordan be! I cannot sink; my feet are shod with gospel peace.' It was her wish to be carried home and buried with the rest of the family, expressing a wish that as a family they may rise from the dust at the general resurrection, their fetters burst, and fasten in the skies. 'I have need,' she said, 'to plead with God, but for some weeks my prayer has been little more than--
'Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.'
A few days prior to her death she partook of the ordinance of the Lord's Supper. The minister spoke of the upper room where the Saviour partook of the Passover with his disciples the night before he suffered, and remarked that it would probably be the last time that we should partake
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of the fruit of the vine together on earth. And so it proved to be.
"The day on which she quitted this mortal vale her breathing was exceedingly difficult. I repeated some favourite lines to her, which appeared to increase her desire to be released. In a short time she suddenly revived, and said, 'My Saviour! my Saviour! praise Him!' and then in a few minutes her ransomed spirit escaped, to be for ever with the Lord. She departed this life May 10th, 1841, and was buried at Stourton Caundle. A funeral sermon was preached on the occasion at the Wesleyan Chapel in Milborne Port, from these words, 'The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him.'-- From your unworthy Sunday scholar,
"HANNAH CROCKER."
Two children of James Crocker now survive--Hannah, the writer of the above letter, and Charles. Charles was appointed schoolmaster at Stourton Caundle by the Rev. Nathanael Bridges, vicar of Henstridge, in the year 1830, and, at the end of thirty-four years, yet retains that office; a convincing proof that in the judgment of the parish he is the right man in the right place.
See two interesting letters from Rev. Richard Davis to Mr. Charles Crocker in the years 1849 and 1862.
