The next morning, therefore, the stately squire bestrode his favourite grey mare, and took his morning ride in the direction of Blithe Natty’s house. That cheerful knight of the hammer was busy at his post, and the ringing anvil, as usual, was accompanied by his musical and sonorous song. Wherever my fortune may lead me, Whate’er sort of hap it may bring, The blessing of God will still speed me, And this is the song I will sing-- Away with all fear and repining, Away with all doubting and grief: On the bosom of Jesus reclining, He’ll never withhold me relief. Affliction will come, if He sends it, Or sorrow my portion may be; I’ll cheerfully bear till He ends it, Till I His salvation shall see. With loving and honest endeavour, Still striving my duty to do, I’ll love Him and trust Him for ever, For ever be honest and true. The sun in the heavens is shining, Though clouds may oft gather below, Each one has a silvery lining, And rains down a gift as I go. The streamlet runs clear o’er the gravel, The breezes blow pure o’er the lea; Just so in my course would I travel, With Jesus to journey with me. I want neither honour nor riches, I care not for rank or for gold; For this kind of fortune bewitches The soul--at least so I’ve been told. Contented and happy and healthy, Pray why should I covet or sigh, To be titled or famous or wealthy? Can any man answer me why? But one thing through life will I covet-- To hate the whole compass of wrong; To do aye the right and to love it, To sing as I travel along. Wherever my fortune may lead me, Whate’er sort of hap it may bring, The blessing of God will aye speed me, And so as I travel I sing. Such was the blithe and cheery ditty which Nathan Blyth was chanting when Squire Fuller rode up to the smithy door. “Good morning, Blyth,” said he; “it’s a good sign when people sing at their work. One would conclude that it’s neither too hard nor ill paid.” “And yet, sir,” said Nathan, “I have known people who worked too hard for low wages, and yet could sing all the same.” “Indeed! I imagine they must have been endowed by nature with a marvellous flow of spirits,” said the squire. “No, sir, not specially, but they were endowed by God with a marvellous flow of grace. You know the old proverb sir,-- ‘Godly grace makes greatly glad, It makes him sing who once was sad.’” “And you believe that this ‘grace of God,’ as you call it, helps you to sing, do you, Blyth?” “Yes, sir,” said Nathan, warmly; “I have a good conscience, a sense and assurance of my Saviour’s love, and a bright hope of heaven. God’s providence has filled my cup brimfull with blessings, and if I did not sing His praises the very stones might well cry out.”