October 21. 
THE COTTAGE GAEDENEK. 
47 
iuipoi'tance, that I find the subject of wintering them 
must be postjioned for another week; in the mean time, 
let our less experienced friends take care not to nurse 
these plants into that tender state which makes them 
as susceptible of cold as if they had been deni/eus of 
tlie greenhouse. A sturdy, healthy growth can only be 
ensured by continued exposure, and det them be only 
covei’ed up when the weather threatens to become very 
severe. But more of this anon. J. Kobson. 
THE WIDOW INDEED ! 
By the Authoress of “ My Floioers," <tc. 
It is remarkable to observe how unwilling people are to 
trust in God. If our own hearts did not teach us this, we 
should be quite ready to say the whole world is beside itself, 
for hawng such large and full promises given to it, and yet 
refusing to receive them. And so it is; it is mad, and 
guilty too; but we are all in the same condemnation. There 
i.s scarcely one among us who would dare to rest upon one 
of God’s promises if it went against the promise of the 
world. 
I know, however, one old woman w'ho has dai-ed to do so. 
She has acted upon, as well as talked about, trust in God ; 
and though she “ was young, and now is old,” she has not 
I found the “ promise ” fail. 
Old Betty is a widow of above fourscore years : she is, in 
I fact, eighty-nine. She was quite a young woman when her 
I husband died, and left her with two daughters and a son ; 
but he left her with the *• promise,” also, and he could not 
have done better for her. A man who had had an affection 
for Betty in her youth came forward, in due time, and 
wished to make her his wife. She had no objection to him 
in himself, but she loved the “promise ” better ; and chose 
to abide “ under the shadow of the Almighty,” who had 
seen fit to take her earthly prop away. Two or three times 
Betty was urged by this old admirer to change her mind 
and marry him, but nothing could move her. She said she 
was not “ afeared but the Lord would provide her a bit of 
bread,” and take care of her children too—and a widow 
resolutely she remained. 
Her eldest daughter manied, and died young. The 
younger became a cripple, from rheumatic gout, and lay for 
years and years cramped and agonized on a little bed in the 
corner of the kitchen, with her hands and feet twisted almost 
into balls, and suffering the most acute pain. She died soon 
after we first knew the little household, but I can still hear 
tlie bitter cry of “ Moth-the-r, moth-the-r,” which the poor 
sufferer constantly uttered, as she lay in unspealiable tor¬ 
ture. Poor Betty waited upon her by night and by day ; she 
was a tender mother, and did all she could to soften the 
trial of this poor afflicted creature, but nothing could ease 
the pains, until the Lord stretched forth His hand and 
took her. 
Betty's son was a “ waif and stray.” He was wild and 
wortliless in every one’s opinion but hers. He was trans¬ 
ported after the Biots of 1830 ; and, excepting two letters 
that came soon after his going away, she has heard nothing 
of him. Whether he died, or forgot her, she cannot teU. 
I His term of transportation has long since ended, but he 
neither comes or writes ; and Betty weeps bitter teai’s over 
his loss, and her own uncertainty. 
The “ promise ” has never failed poor old Betty through 
all her trials. When Naomi was left desolate, a daughter- 
in-law clave to her, and cherished her; in Betty’s bereave¬ 
ment a son-itr-law became to her as her owir, and clave to 
her with the fond affection of a daughter. He never left 
Betty’s roof from the liour his wife died. He never dreamed 
of rrrarrying again; he had no child, and Betty was thence¬ 
forward his only care. Wherr all her childreir were swept 
away, George stood in the gap ; he laborrred for her, he com¬ 
forted her ; he was a man of few words, but of marry deeds, 
and he cheered and supported her desolate widowhood. 
Betty was enabled to turn a penny honestly, by selling a 
little gingerbread, aird a few apples and potatoes in their 
season. There is always something to be seen still in her 
window of that kind, although, in these days, she finds 
pennies are few among her humble customers. A daily 
walking carrier from the towrr has for many years spent his 
mid-day hours in her cottage, for which he pays a trifle, so 
that Betty has added her mite to her son-in-law’s labours to 
pay their rent and live. Cleaner or more honest creatures 
than the widow and her devoted son-in-law the parish never 
produced. George worked for years on a neighbouring 
nobleman’s estate, and not a word was ever spoken against 
him. Those who knew him could trast him, where none 
else coirld be trusted ; and he was so civil, so harmless, and 
so humble, that every one liked and respected him. 
But, alas ! this comfort has been disturbed in the good 
and wise providence of God. The aged widow now dwells 
alone in her little cottage. Her second prop has been taken i 
away, and she rests singly on Him who says “ Let thy 
widows trust in me. ” 
It was a hitter parting. Poor George had been a great 
sufferer at times for many years, but his last illness was very i 
severe, although he seemed better, and Betty had no idea of 
his end approaching. He called her up one night in a great 
hurry, but had nothing to say when she went to him. He 
was odd in his manner, but stUl she was not alarmed, and 
when he wished for a cup of tea, she went down stairs to 
make a fire, little supposing that on her return she should 
find him dead. But it was so. The kind eyes were closed, 
the active arms were still, the voice that was always welcome 
to her was sUent, and poor Betty found herself again a 
childless widow. 
The poor old woman still clings to the “ promise, ” and as 
she relates the short and simple story of her life, she blesses 
God for his goodness in never having left her to want. Her 
mouth has been filled, although with homely fare,bread has 
been the chief part of her diet, with the weakest liquid that 
could be called tea, and what causes her heart greatly to 
rejoice is, that she has never been in debt. She pays to the 
utteiTuost farthing every thing she owes, and while a shilling 
remains owing at the shop she is restless and uneasy. 
Her prospects on earth are now somewhat dark. Her rent 
is high ; the carrier’s health failing, which would cut off one 
little means of help, and the failure of potatoes in her little 
bit of allotment ground, depriving her of that principal 
support. But her friends, who love and respect her, take no 
rent for her ground, and she cheerfully says “ The Lord will 
keep meand has no excessive dread of the Union, should 
it please God to bring her to that end. But as yet she holds 
quietly on her way. She does all her little household work ; 
washes her own clothes; rises at five as usual; and“ muddles 
about ” as she says, all day long. It is affecting to see her 
sometimes looking over all poor George’s working tools, 
which she hopes to sell—a little story belongs to almost all 
of them; and she seems to see him again seated by the 
fireside as she spreads them out before her. She is now 
unable to reach the church, but a lady goes every Sunday 
morning to read a portion of Scriirture, and a simple ser¬ 
mon to her in her little dwelling; and she loves to listen 
to the Word of Life more and more, now that all other 
things ai-e passing away. She has a good hope through 
grace—she has tasted the Word, and found Him “ faithful 
that promised; ”—“ bread ” has been given to her—“ water ” 
has been “ sure ” to her—she has wanted “ no good thing.” 
Young and old have died around her—the changes and 
chances of this mortal life have happened to rich and poor, 
but old Betty stands like an aged oak, with a twig or two 
still green, just where she stood more than forty years ago; 
her head is strongly bent, but her eye is bright, her actions I 
vigorous, and her affections warm and strong. She is now 
asking anxiously after a young midshipman, who is on his 
homeward voyage, who has grown up before her eyes, eaten 
her gingerbread, and waved his sea-cap twice to his old 
friend, as she stood weeping at her door to see him depart to 
his ship. Her son is lost to her, but she loves the sons of 
other's ; and there are some whose first visit, on returning 
home, is paid to poor old Betty. 
There is no fear for those who are “ widows indeed, ” who 
trust in God, and continue in supplications and prayers 
night and day. They have a treasure-house, and a key tliat 
unlocks it; they have a God, and a way of access to him; 
they have a promise, and a faithful Promiser. No man can 
meddle with their promise “ or their peace. The Word of 
the Lord hath said “ Let thy widows trust in me.” “ Heaven 
