"In none but Christ; none but Christ," answered the old woman, with tears in her eyes. "I have reason to believe what you say to be true," said Mr. Pryce; "and I have no hesitation to say, that you are in a proper state to partake of the Lord's Supper: therefore I trust, Cicely, that you will not allow a sinful fear to keep you back when your Saviour invites you to come. I hope, therefore,” added he, as he got up to take his leave, that you will no longer absent yourself from the table of the Lord; and that I shall see you there on Christmas-day." 66 So Mr. Pryce took leave of Cicely Green; and on Christmas-day he looked for her at the Lord's table, but she was not present. After service he inquired about her of a pious neighbour, who had partaken of the holy ordinance. "Where is your neighbour Cicely Green?" said Mr. Pryce: "is she ill? Wherefore does she not take this opportunity of partaking of the Saviour's love?" 66 Oh, sir," replied Cicely's neighbour, "you must not be displeased, sir, with the poor body; for she told me herself she would gladly have come, but that she knew herself to be unworthy." Mr. Pryce said no more at that time, thinking to call on Cicely in a few days. But before this worthy minister had an opportunity of so doing, he was taken ill with the rheumatism, and confined to his house for some months. In the mean time, Cicely herself was taken very ill; and after having suffered very severely, and not being able to pay a doctor for attendance, she was advised to get into the Infirmary. Cicely had no other friend to apply to for a ticket than Mr. Pryce. But she trusted that, if it lay in his power, he would surely supply her with one, for she had always found him a friend in need. Accordingly, with the help of her crutches, she made shift to hobble to Mr. Pryce's house, and, knocking at the door, was brought into a very neat kitchen, where Mr. Pryce was sitting by the fireside, reading his Bible. Mr. Pryce was sorry to see Cicely looking so ill. He got up himself to set her a chair; and ordered a little mulled wine and a slice of toast to be given to her: which, when she had taken, and was refreshed, he said, "And now, Cicely, what is your business with me? What can I do for you?" "O! sir," said Cicely, "I came to ask a favour: could you be so kind as to serve me with a ticket for the Infirmary?" "The Infirmary!" said Mr. Pryce, stirring the fire, and looking grave; "what can you want with a ticket for the Infirmary? I have but one to dispose of, and I must be careful to give it to a proper person." "Sure, sir," replied Cicely, "there cannot be a more proper person than I am. I have several very sad and painful diseases about me; and a wound in my leg so large, sir, as you could almost put your hand in it. Indeed, sir, I am a poor diseased creature; and cannot pay for any help, or for any doctor's stuff." "I am sorry to hear all this," said Mr. Pryce," his eyes still being fixed on the fire; "I should advise you to go home and try to get a little better, and then come to me, and you shall have my ticket." “What did you say, sir? I am getting thick of hearing," answered Cicely, bending her poor shaking head towards Mr. Pryce, who gravely repeated his words. "I would advise you, Dame Green, to go home and try to get a little better, and then come to me, and you shall have my ticket for the Infirmary." 66 "O! sir," said the old woman, "how can you talk so? How am I to get better, without doctor's stuff or help of any kind ?" “But surely, Mrs. Green," said Mr. Pryce, still looking grave, and raising his voice higher, "you would not have me to send such a poor creature as you are to the Infirmary-a creature filled with diseases, and covered with wounds, as you yourself confess? What an affront to the gentlemen of the Infirmary! I tell you, good woman, that I cannot think of putting such an insult upon my friends the doctors. I shall keep my ticket, I assure you, for a person in better health." "Sir," said the old woman, looking hard at Mr. Pryce, and trying to find out what he meant by the expression of his face, "I know, sir, that you are a pleasant gentleman, and make yourself very cheerful with us poor people; but, dear sir, I am a poor creature, utterly helpless, and though I am a loathsome object, yet I am sure the gentlemen of the Infirmary, who have given their hearts and time to assisting the poor and miserable, will not take offence against you for giving your ticket to such a poor wretch as I am." Mr. Pryce turned to her with a look of pity: "Poor woman!" he said, "I have seemed unkind to you, but I had a reason for it, which I will now explain to you." "When I came last Christmas, in the name of my master, Christ, who is the great doctor of sinful souls, to invite you to draw near unto him, and be washed from your sins, you refused to come, and gave this reason, that you were not worthy; although you knew that none but Christ could cleanse you from your sins. "You now come to me for a ticket for the Infirmary, and I refuse to give it you: for if it is reasonable that you should not go to the physician of souls because of your sins, so it is equally reasonable that you should not appear before the doctors of the Infirmary, covered with diseases and sores. "You say that the doctors will excuse the loathsome appearance of your sores, and pity you for your infirmities: but I tell you, kind and compassionate as these gentlemen are, they have not the love for you which your Saviour has. "They, indeed, give up their time and attention for the good of the poor; but he gave his body to be broken, and his blood to be shed for us. He bore our griefs, and carried our sorrows; he was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and by his stripes we are healed. All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." Isaiah liii. 4-6. Here Mr. Pryce stopped speaking, for poor old Cicely, being convinced of the reasonableness of his arguments, had burst into tears, and fallen down upon her knees, praying to the Almighty to forgive her sinful backwardness; crying out, "I will come to thee, my Saviour, with all my sins, for I cannot come otherwise. I will fall at the foot of thy cross, and I will seek thy righteousness, and make mention of thine only." Mr. Pryce was pleased: tears of joy came into his eyes. He took out his pocket-book and gave Cicely the ticket for the Infirmary; telling her at the same time to fly, without loss of time, to the physician of souls. I am happy to tell you that she was immediately received into the Infirmary, and every comfort was administered unto her till her dying day: for she died in the Infirmary. But before her death, Mr. Pryce had the pleasure of administering the holy sacrament of the body and blood of Christ several times to her. And her good minister had the pleasure to find, that before her death she thoroughly understood how poor hell-deserving sinners are made heirs of everlasting glory by their being united with Christ, and how he that is not worthy to lick up the crumbs which fall from the master's table, when washed in the blood of the Lamb, and clad in the garment of salvation, shall be admitted to sit down in the kingdom of heaven with the angels of God. END OF THE INFIRMARY. |