The following derives all its interest from the remarkable leading of God's Spirit in bringing the writer and subject of this paper together a few days before the Lord took the latter home to Himself. She was a child of sorrow and suffering indeed—the mother of a family, all of whom had fallen under death's hand, leaving herself and her partner a solitary couple. The weight of her sorrow pressed her down, and disease of a trying nature began to develop itself.
As I was living next door to her, and saw the frequent visits of the physician, and occasionally the clergyman of the parish, I felt a deep interest and a yearning anxiety, which they only know who have had it, as to her true state and condition. Did she know a Savior's love? Was she looking to Him? Was the prospect before her dark or bright? were often-weighed questions in my mind; and many a time did I speak to the Lord about her, and find my only solace and comfort there, for I should say this pressure on my spirit about one of whom I had known nothing personally, and whom I had never seen, was new to me, for I am not an evangelist in the true sense of the word, but greatly desire to have a deeper interest in, and concern for, immortal souls.
Thus matters went on for weeks, until at last, on my return home one afternoon, I heard she was much worse, and that death was evidently very near. After looking to the Lord, I sat down and wrote a very few lines to her husband, asking after her, expressing my deep sympathy with him, and also the earnest hope that she knew the Savior whose blood cleanses from all sin; adding that I myself, as a needy one, had known what it was to trust Him.
I had occasion to make a call a little way from the house, and on my return found that she had meanwhile sent a message to me, requesting me to call and see her. I hastened to her bedside and, as I took her hand, she said with great earnestness, "Ah, I have been longing for some weeks to see you, and now I feel so thankful the Lord has sent you to help me on my way." As it was advanced in the evening, and she was very weak, I did not remain long with her. When leaving, she requested me to see her again the next morning. I did so, and again the same evening, and so on, almost each day until she fell asleep.
From the first evening I saw her I found out that she was a soul awakened to a sense of her need of Christ and His sufficiency for the deepest need. I have since found out that the gracious Lord wrought this in her in various ways, mostly, perhaps, through sorrow and family bereavement, of which she had no small share. I was in no wise instrumental in this; but I had the joy of seeing in her the power of God's delivering grace in many ways, and the blessedness of His Word in quieting her natural fear of death. One little circumstance of this kind I may record. She expressed on one occasion to me her fear in prospect of death—not, she said most decidedly, as to her acceptance in any way, but she had a shrinking from death and the suffering of it. The nature of her disease too was very likely to lead to such suffering. I read her part of Josh. 3, calling her attention to the fact that when the children of Israel were crossing Jordan, it was on the ark, not on the waters of the river, their eyes and thoughts were to be fixed. "When ye see the ark of the covenant of the LORD your God, and the priests the Levites bearing it, then ye shall remove from your place, and go after it." As soon as I had finished, she said with great earnestness, "That ark is Christ."
I said, "Thank God, it is so." She never lost sight of that, and it comforted her many a time afterward. The last time I was with her she had all her relatives around her bedside. It was the last time they saw her. She herself wished and arranged it so. Her simple acknowledgment of perfect confidence in Christ, and rest in Him, was very sweet. And then she asked for the hymn -
"How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear;
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear."
And the earnest way in which she sang it, weak though she was, and exhausted, was very touching. This was my last visit to her. I called as usual next day but she was unable to see me; and that evening, without the struggle she at first dreaded, peacefully and calmly she fell asleep, so quietly, so gently, that they said they "thought her dying when she slept, and sleeping when she died."
It is the living power of the Word of God in quieting fear, and fixing, through the Holy Ghost, the eye of the soul on Jesus, that is so blessedly set forth in this case; and it is recorded to
His praise and glory who went before His beloved people through the dark waters of death, measured them all Himself, taking every sting out of them, and leaving nothing behind save gain for them, thus enabling them to say, "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"