"Bright, beautiful day. Many people on the ice. Edwin [her brother]
there. Over our dwelling is a shadow; it falls upon our spirits and we
are sad. Will it never be removed? God grant we may be patient and
grateful for the blessings we do enjoy, for are not friends--true,
tender friends, the greatest and holiest of blessings? and while we
have them God forgive us for murmuring at his dealings."
The last entries in her diary are: "Feb. 2. Very sick"; "Tuesday, 3rd.
No better." It is uncertain when the following lines were written, but
it might have been about this time:--
"I'm going home to that bright land of rest
Where pain and grief and sickness are unknown;
The year begins in sorrow, but will close
In joys that never end--I'm going home!
Last year the warning came on sunken eye
And wasted cheek. I gazed and thought to spend
My Christmas with the angels. God knows best;
And here I linger, weary sufferer still.
The morning comes long watched-for, long desired;
The day drags on, and then the sleepless night:
But this will have an end--it must be soon."
About six weeks before her death she was taken with nausea and
vomiting: everything she took distressed her, and for the last
twenty-three days she took no nourishment save what water contains.
Her prayer--
"Close to the Cross, close to the Cross. God grant I may be found
When death shall call my spirit hence, or the last trumpet sound,"--
was indeed answered. Her end was very peaceful and happy. For several
weeks not a cloud seemed to pass over her mind; and though often in
great distress there was no impatience manifested, nor did a murmur
escape her lips. She said, "It is nothing to die: 'the sting of death
is sin,' and when sin is taken away the sting is gone." On another
occasion she remarked: "I have often heard the words sung--
'Jesus can make a dying bed
Feel soft as downy pillows are'--
and thought they were not strictly true; but now I know that they are
perfectly, _perfectly_ so." Once as we stood by her bedside she
observed her mother and sister weeping, and with a countenance beaming
with joy (sufficient to remind us of 1 Pet. 1:8) she expressed
surprise, remarking: "It seems to me I am only crossing a narrow
brook, and as I look back I see you all coming--we shall soon meet."
Her view of her own weakness and sinfulness was indeed clear, but she
had such unwavering faith in her Redeemer as enabled her to say:
"Dying seems to me like laying the head back and closing the eyes,
just to open them in a few moments on the joys of paradise." The
following lines, written with a pencil on the cover and blank leaf of
her French Testament, were the last she ever wrote. They are dated
March 3--just ten days before her death--and give indubitable evidence
of the clearness of her intellect and the strength of her faith while
passing through "the valley of the shadow of death":--
"Jesus, I know thou art the living Word!
Each blessed promise to myself I take;
I would not doubt, if I had only heard
This--this alone, '_I never will forsake!_'
I have no fear-the sting of death is sin,
And Christ removed it when he died for me:
Washed in his blood, my robe without, within,
Has not a stain that God himself can see.
Wrapped in the Saviour's arms I sweetly lie;
Far, far behind I hear the breakers roar;
I have been dying--but I cease to die,
My rest begins--rejoice forevermore!"
Having expressed a wish to be visited by all her acquaintances, many
called to see her, with whom she conversed freely on the interests of
their soul. With great composure she made arrangements for her
departure--leaving books and other articles to her intimate friends.
One day she made a request that I should preach her funeral sermon.
For a moment I hesitated because of relationship (having married her
sister Josephine), then remarked, that I supposed there would be no
impropriety in doing so, as I recollected that Whitefield preached his
wife's, to which she immediately added, "And Wesley preached his
mother's." On asking if she had thought of any passage to be used as a
text, she replied: "I first thought of the words, 'I shall be
satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness'; but you know that is all
about _I_, and now I feel that Christ is all--it is all Christ: so I
have thought of his words in the 11th of John, 'I am the Resurrection
and the Life.'" She also suggested to her sister that the following
hymns (which were favorites with her) should be used on the occasion:
"Come let us join our cheerful songs
With angels round the throne;"
"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand
And cast a wishful eye,"--
"Joyfully, joyfully, onward I move,
Bound for the land of bright glory and love."
The joyous character of the hymns will at once be noted; and this was
the very reason why she selected them: she considered that they would
be more expressive of her condition than the mournful ones which are
so frequently used at funerals. Two of her poems seem so appropriate
here that we insert them. The former was written in June, 1859, and
the latter bears date "Nov. 30, 1861":--