Narrative of the Conversion and Death of Emma F., written by her Mother a few days after she “fell asleep.”
IN December, 1263, little Emma F. became deeply convinced of her need of a Saviour, and, although living at a distance from the Merrion Hail, she attended the Lord’s Day and other services. At one of the Tuesday meetings a Christian young lady spoke to her for a considerable three touching the sinfulness of her nature, and the completeness of the sacrifice of Christ for sin; in this instance there was a lasting impression made, and she became awakened to a sense of her state as a sinner.
A few weeks afterward, as Mr. S. was showing how Jesus took our sins on Himself, paid the debt we owed, and thereby satisfied God, he took his Bible, held it up, and, laying his hymn-book down on it, said, “Here is Jesus, there are your sins, see how He bears them away from you.” This simple illustration of the great transaction came home to the heart of our dear child; she knew she was a sinner, and now she saw her sins laid on Jesus, and that she had only to believe this and be saved. On her return home, she said, “Mamma, I never thought of Jesus loving us when we are bad, but Mr. S. says He does, and now I understand bow He took our sins and our place. I never could know what other preachers said, but I understood Mr. S. today, when he laid his hymn-book on his Bible, and showed how Jesus took all our sins on Himself, but still I don’t feel myself saved.”
Shortly after this, another young lady spoke to her, urging her to believe for herself on the Lord Jesus, and pointing her to that text, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out;” and, with a view to make it more personal, it was changed to “Her that cometh,” &c. On that day she complained of being ill, and was confined to her bed for some days. During this time I observed her to be much in prayer, and on Friday she sang, with her hands clasped and her eyes looking up to heaven―
“Dearest Saviour, go not from me,
Let Thy presence still abide;
Look in tenderest love upon me,
I am sheltering at Thy side.”
Soon afterward, she said, “Mamma, I have good news to tell you; I think I am saved.” I mid, “Dear Emma, are you not sure you are saved?” She thought a moment, then said, “Yes, I am saved through the blood of the Lamb. I was praying all day for the light of the Holy Spirit, that I might know I was saved. Her that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out. I believe, for Thou halt said. And oh, Mamma, I am saved through the blood of the Lamb. If I die tonight, I know I have eternal life.”
These were sweet assurances of a Saviour’s love to poor perishing sinners, and our dear child had now given unmistakable evidence that she had been with Jesus, that He had revealed Himself unto her, and had shined into her young heart, by His Spirit bearing witness with hers, that she was a child of God, an heir of heaven, and a young follower of the Lord.
Our dear child’s earthly prospects were poor indeed; but this was the second the Lord had adopted into His family, and we knew that our daughters had an inheritance “incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away,” and this we knew no changes of this present life could deprive them of. Then with thankful hearts we united in singing.
Glory, honor, praise, and power
Be unto the Lamb forever.”
Ah, no doubt there was joy that moment in the presence of the angels. The joy of her soul overcame her weakness of body. Prayer was now turned into praise, and she continued to sing
“Happy day,
When Jesus washed my sins away.”
It is now more than three months, and she never lost her hold on Jesus. There are those that can testify of her anxious desire to sit with the Lord’s people at His table, as His acknowledged disciple, and she had that happy privilege afforded her. Who would pass by one of the youngest lambs of the fold? This was the first and last time she partook of the Lord’s Supper, but she is now exalted high above all earthly privileges and enjoyments, sitting in the midst of the circle of loved ones, gone up before her forever with Jesus. She was very much attached to the hymns, “Times of Refreshing,” particularly those commencing―
“Jesus, I am never weary.”
“My God, we are stones in Thy temple divine.”
Sometimes she appeared to be gaining strength, and on Easter Monday last she sat in the gallery behind the platform. During the service she joined in the singing, and solemnly sang that sweet hymn―
“Death with his arrows may soon lay us low,
Safe in our Saviour we fear not the blow.”
Little did we think our dear one would so soon fall pierced by that arrow.
On April 3rd she attended the Merrion Hall for the last time. The hymns sung were―
“In the Christian’s home in glory,”
and
“Lord Jesus, we pray, soon give Thy glad day,”
which she sang so fervently, that I asked her Did she really wish the Lord would come? She answered, “Indeed I do, mamma; I wish He would come tonight.”
Shortly before this she had given way to some little petulance towards one of her brothers; he had been troublesome to her, and, for the first time since her conversion, she had lost he; temper, and made use of a hasty expression. When alone with her, I took occasion to speak on the unseemliness of the disciple of the meek and lowly Jesus being led by any spirit but that of love, as well as the effect which such hasty words might have on her unconverted brother. She was deeply affected, shedding tears for having grieved the Spirit of God. Shortly after this she was heard to sing―
“I thought that I was strong, Lord,
And did not need Thine arm;”
and again, the verse―
“Oh, Thou host given me sight, Lord,” &c.,
continuing, with great earnestness, ―
“But I know that I am Thine, Lord,
And that none can pluck away,
The feeblest babe that ever yet
Didst make Thine arm its stay.”
This was a favorite hymn from that time forth with her. About this time a friend called on us when I was telling him, amongst other things of how the Lord had revealed Himself to two of our children. He seemed glad to hear it but, in speaking to Emma, laid great stress or guarding against mistakes about conversion. She had not many words for grown persons, but, on his leaving, she said, “Mamma, I fear Mr. D. thinks I am not saved; what he said would not encourage me a bit; but no matter what anyone thinks, when Jesus knows I believe, then I know I am saved.”
There is one trait in her Christian character which I am loath to pass over: her associating all she loved, as well as many little passing events of daily life, with the coming glory; indeed, she lived constantly in the sense of it, frequently remarking, “Well, we shan’t want this or that in the glory.”
Once, when looking at a Christian lady whom she loved with great affection, she said, in her simple’ manner, “Oh, mamma, won’t she look grand in the glory.” At another time, she said, “Mr. S. looked pale today, but he’ll not look so in the GLORY.” When some regretted the loss of her hair, she said, “I don’t care about my old hair, I shan’t want it in the glory.”
How sweetly she realized these blessed truths, and how soon was she called to be with Jesus, and how graciously the Lord prepared her young mind for the change that was so shortly to come.
Sweet, dear Emma, she was of a most loving and affectionate disposition, and dearly loved the sound of Mr. S.’s name; and, while he was away for some time in London and Paris, she said one day, “Mamma, I did not think I cared so much for Mr. S., but I feel so lonely since he went away: I am counting the days until he comes back.” Her mother said, “Emma, dear, you have the Lord, and if you were with Him you would not want Mr. S. to direct you.” She said, “Oh, mamma, you know what I mean: he did not die for me, but still I know he will be in the glory, and dear Mrs. T. too; oh, I hope we shall be near each other, quite close to Jesus, saying, ‘Thou art worthy.’”
During the last week she was in health, she constantly read “Pilgrim’s Progress,” and one day, showing the plate to a younger sister, she said, “I should not mind crossing the river if I could see Jesus and the shining ones on the other side.” And then, as though the Lord was preparing her for the strife, she was led to sing the last three verses of the hymn before mentioned, ending with those lines—
“Ready to go to Thee, Lord,
When Thou shalt call away.”
On the following day (13th May) she complained of her head being affected. On Saturday and Sunday she was unable to sit up and on Monday the doctor pronounced her to be in gastric fever. She was quite sensible, and said, “Mamma, I wish I was with Jesus, for I have had a dream.” Just then her father entered the room, and she said, “I dreamed I saw the Lord Jesus: He came to me surrounded with crowns, and golden and purple stars, bright and beautiful. He said to me, ‘Emma, I want you to come to Me,’ and I answered, ‘Even so, Lord Jesus, I come quickly!’ I also saw grandmamma, and dear little Shaddy (a younger sister gone before), and they both held out their hands to me as if they wished to bring me with them.” On her father leaving the room, she sent for him to come to her, and said, “Papa, I don’t think I am good enough to die, but I do know I have believed on the Lord Jesus.” He told her to “believe still, to believe on to the end, and not fear; all would yet be well.” She seemed to have gained fresh assurance, and said, “I do believe; I know the Lord Jesus died for me.” She then sang―
“Jesus, I am never weary,” &c.
And, on seeing an orange on the table, continued―
“Dear ones, bring me fruit and flowers,” &e.
Soon after, she raised her eyes, as if her faith would pierce the skies, and sang―
“All my sins were laid upon Thee,
“to the end, and repeated―
“Dearest Saviour!
Now I know that I am blest.”
She was constantly in prayer, and seemed to have much sweet communion, always ending with, “Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.”
On Tuesday night she was in great pain, but I sang a verse in a low tone, when she smiled and fell into a doze, and each time she awoke it pain I sang a verse, which never failed to soothe her. At one time she tried to sing―
“Jesus, the same I love so wall,” &c.
After this she asked, “Was it right?” and on being told it was, said, “Sing―
“Sun of my soul, my Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou art near.”
After this her speech rapidly failed her. She was still quite sensible, and knew us up to almost the last moment, holding our hands and kissing us with the utmost affection. When he speech had nearly failed, we asked her, if she knew us, to press our hands once; she did so; and if she knew Jesus, to press twice; this shy lid, and continued to do until the morning of the day before her departure.
As a last resource, the doctors blistered her head, and she suffered much pain, but with great patience and resignation. Still another day and night she suffered and lingered, till Saturday afternoon, the 21st May, when she gently and peacefully fell asleep in the arms of Jesus, aged eleven years.