No circumstance of particular interest took place from the time last alluded to until Bessie was seventeen, when a new era commenced in her spiritual experience. From the time she left the Roman Catholics she had attended the Presbyterian Kirk, had taught in the Sunday-school, visited the sick and poor, and was always engaged in works of charity and usefulness. The minister found in her a constant, ready help in any labor of love he might require, whether to comfort the afflicted, or instruct the ignorant. Her zeal had not cooled in these outward services, but she felt that her heart had gradually grown cold, and estranged from God. She had neglected private prayer and meditation, and "God had not been in all her thoughts.”
When she was roused from this spiritual lethargy anguish and despair laid hold on her. She reflected whence she had fallen; what peace she had once enjoyed; what communion with God, as she read His holy Word. And now that Book gave her no comfort; every word spoke condemnation; she thought God's frown rested upon her, that she had grieved His Holy Spirit, and that He had departed from her; that she had sinned against light and knowledge, and that there could be no forgiveness for her—nothing but banishment from the presence of that God whom she had neglected. The blackest despair reigned within her, and this unhappy state of mind lasted three months.
At first she tried to conceal her misery from those around her. Frequently she would leave the house, and choose a sequestered spot, where she might, undisturbed, give freedom to the bitter thoughts that occupied her mind; she would pace up and down in mental agony, and return to the house still a mourner. Sometimes, when she retired to her room at night, she would throw herself into a chair, and sit for hours meditating on her lost condition, as she thought-on the awful futurity, and the destruction which awaited her; whilst the recollection of the Peace and joy she once experienced made the present more melancholy, and the future more dark.
On one occasion she remained in the sitting-room after the other members of the family had retired to rest. Drawing her chair to the Cable, she buried her face in her hands, and was soon absorbed in sad reflections, whilst hour after hour passed away without her heeding them. The morning at last dawned, and found her in the same position, until she was roused by hearing one of her brothers coming down stairs; when, raising her head, she started to see that it was daylight.
It was not, however, to be expected that her relations and friends would not observe that some hidden grief weighed down her spirit. Her sister soon discovered the cause of this sorrow, and tried to apply a healing balm. Finding her efforts useless, she induced all her Christian friends in succession to visit her; but, though they reasoned and prayed with her, they afforded her no comfort.
One day a Presbyterian minister conversed with her a long time, and then prayed, but when he left the house she was as wretched as before. After he was gone her sister and herself sat in silence for some time, till Sarah broke it by saying, "The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." She added no more, but laid stress on the words "all sin." A gleam of light entered Bessie's soul as these words were uttered, and the Spirit of God brought them home with power. She had often read them, but they never struck her as they did then, and she exclaimed, "If it be written, the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from ah/ sin,' mine can be included, and He can cleanse me even from my sins." She fell on her knees, and thanked God for the promise of forgiveness even to such a backslider as she had been. Her sister did the same, and they mingled their thanksgivings and tears of joy together at the throne of grace.
From that time Bessie never lost her Peace and joy in believing, but went on steadily increasing in the knowledge of heavenly things, till her short life ended, and her joy became full by seeing, face to face, Him whom her soul loved.
She now undertook with fresh zeal those labors in which she had been previously engaged, and was indefatigable in her exertions. One day she heard that a poor woman was dying in a miserable hovel at a little distance, without any one near to Point her to Christ, or to tell her of the realities of the world to come. Bessie started off to see her; but in making her way across the country, she found a wall had been recently built, which seemed to forbid her progress. If she turned back, she feared the other way would be too long for her to walk, yet she did not like to abandon her undertaking. She therefore climbed to the top, but, to her dismay, saw it was deeper on the other side. Nothing daunted, however, she sprang off; but, from her dress catching in a stone at the top, she was checked in her leap. She fell on her head, and her forehead was cut by a stone which lay on the ground.
Stunned and bewildered, it was some minutes before she was sufficiently recovered to think what she should do. She then recollected that there was an aged Christian who lived near. She went to her cottage, and received from her much care and attention. When Bessie was thoroughly revived, the poor woman inquired the cause of her getting into such trouble, and when she heard the object she had in view, she said, "Now, miss, just listen to the advice of an old Christian. This poor woman is dying without the least knowledge of the gospel, and you were going to set it before her. Satan, thinking he was going to lose a victim, threw you off the wall; depend upon it, it was Satan threw you off, in the hope of preventing your going there; but God would not allow you to be hurt as much as he wished, but only just enough to try your love for poor sinners. Therefore, now, don't let the devil gain the victory, but make an effort again, being cure that God has purposes of mercy for that poor soul.”
Bessie followed this advice, thinking it might have been a message from God to her, which she should not despise. She found the poor woman in great poverty, weak in body, and dark and benighted as to spiritual things. She sat long with her, and laid the gospel plainly before her. She received it, and died a few days afterward in a most happy frame of mind, rejoicing in a Savior's love.
Though Bessie had thus won a jewel for her "crown of rejoicing," it was not without suffering. The effort she had made was too great; she walked home with difficulty, and was seriously ill for several days afterward. But she did not mind a little personal suffering to herself, when she considered that she had been the means, under God's blessing, of saving an immortal soul from eternal perdition.
A little while afterward she nearly involved herself in trouble of another kind. A poor woman, who lived at a retired village in a distant part of the county of Carlow, had left the Roman Catholics, and become a Protestant. The priest had stirred up the husband against his wife, and persuaded him not to live with "a heretic," but to separate from her, and go to another part of the country, which he did, leaving his wife and children ignorant of what had become of him. The neighbors, intimidated by the priest, were afraid to give her any help, and the whole family were threatened with starvation, when some kind Protestants relieved their distress, and tried to raise a subscription for them.
The Presbyterian minister of the church Bessie was in the habit of attending called on her, and interested her so much in the case, that she volunteered to become a collector for this destitute family.
One of the ladies at whose house she had called in the course of the day, was in the evening dining with some friends, and recounted the pitiable story she had heard in the morning. A young barrister was present who was a most determined character, and possessed much influence from being related by marriage to Mr. Daniel O'Connell. He fired up at the story, and declared he would bring an action for defamation of character against Miss A—and Mr. J. N—, the minister. The lady tried to excuse Bessie, telling him that she had only repeated what she had heard.
But it was useless; nothing would pacify him, and he left the house, saying he should write that very night to his lawyer to begin proceedings at once against the two offenders.
The lady was much grieved to think into what trouble she had thoughtlessly brought her young friend, and early the next morning she went to inform her of what had passed. After a little consultation with her sister, Bessie resolved to lay the whole matter before their kind guardian. It seemed a bold step to take, but it showed the entire confidence they had in his impartial judgment.
He was very much amused at her fright, and would not set her mind at rest immediately, but said, laughingly, "What are you doing now? Bringing heavy charges against a priest to his diocesan. What is this but defamation of character?”
“But, Dr. Doyle, it is quite true, indeed it is; the circumstances are well known in that neighborhood. It has been attested by so many witnesses that there cannot be a doubt of its truth.”
“But, my dear child, the more you say it is all true, the more you defame the priest's character. You do not know what trouble you may be getting him into by telling me all this.”
“I don't care what trouble he gets into; he richly deserves it, for bringing starvation on a worthy woman and her children.”
After a few more playful sallies, Dr. Doyle took up his pen and wrote to Mr.—, the barrister, to this effect “That having heard he intended to bring an action for defamation of character against Miss Bessie A—, and Mr. J. N—, he begged to inform him that the young lady was his ward, and therefore he desired that no proceedings might be entered into against her, and that if they had commenced, they might be immediately discontinued.”
She was astonished at the peremptory style of the letter; but Roman Catholic bishops in Ireland exercise almost absolute sway over those of their own persuasion.