^ 
 
 University ><# California. 
 
 r 
 
 KliUitfT 
 
 K l.IHRARV >F 
 
 UR. ^KANCIS LIE HER, 
 
 Professor yf l.Ii|wry and Law in Columbia College, New York. 
 
 THI; GIFT OF 
 
 HAEL REESE, 
 
 Of San Francisco. 
 1^7 3 . 
 
 
- m 6* 49 
 
THE WIDOW 
 
 DIRECTED TO 
 
 THE W I DO 'S GOD; 
 
 JOHN ANGELL JAMES 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION. 
 
 * LET THY WIDOWS TRUST IN ME." JER. XLIX. 11 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
 285 BROADWAY. 
 
 1852. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It is a remarkable fact, that the present volume is 
 the only one devoted especially to the consolation of 
 the widow. This does not arise from any want of 
 feeling for the afflicted and sorrowing. Many works 
 of great value have been written for mourners : but 
 still the widow, in all her peculiar loneliness and 
 severity of grief, has been only incidentally noticed in 
 these volumes, or grouped with the great multitude 
 of the bereaved. This certainly is not to be attributed 
 to any intentional neglect or want of sympathy for 
 those whom God hath made desolate. In Christian 
 countries, such have a very strong hold upon the 
 affections of the community. They also readily 
 command the assistance of all men. "We are con- 
 scious, that the mere sight of woman clad in the 
 weeds of widowhood, sensibly affects the heart and 
 awakens emotions of instinctive sympathy. Still, the 
 widow, until now, could find no book, written spe- 
 
IV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 cially for her, and adapted to her peculiar condition, 
 which she could take with her into her solitude. It 
 is true, in the consolations which have been adminis- 
 tered to the bereaved and sorrowing, there was much 
 which would apply to the general condition of the 
 widow. It is true, in the Bible were to be found 
 many rich and precious assurances of special interest 
 in the heart of God, and of protection for herself and 
 fatherless children. But these lie scattered, and 
 seemed to be almost too great and glorious to be 
 meant for the poor sufferer, well nigh consumed by 
 the intensity of her agony. There is something so 
 sacred and touching in the sorrows of widowhood ; 
 something which so instinctively shrinks away from 
 the public gaze, and seeks retirement, where alone 
 and unwatched, the heart may pour out the freshness 
 of its grief, that I do not wonder that pious men have 
 forborne publicly to address the widow, lest they 
 might only wound the deeper, when they merely 
 sought to sympathise and give direction to her sorrow. 
 It must be admitted, that few men could with much 
 hope of success, undertake a task so delicate. Pro- 
 perly to perform it, required not only a warm and 
 generous heart, a clear and discriminating intellect, 
 a practical acquaintance with the laws of the human 
 mind, but also personal experience in similar grief 
 
INTRODUCTION. V 
 
 In all these respects, the gifted author of this volume 
 is eminently qualified. Those who are acquainted 
 with him through his writings and much more, 
 those who have enjoyed his personal friendship are 
 pursuaded, that Mr. James has not only a mind at 
 once of simplicity and elegance, but possesses a 
 heart of unusual generosity alive to every appeal of 
 sorrow. Besides this, the past dispensations of Provi- 
 dence have made him familiar with the realties of 
 bereavement. The wife of his youth was early taken 
 from him, and for a considerable period he knew the 
 deep solicitude and the pensive sorrow of him that 
 mourneth apart. Nay, more than this, even whilst 
 preparing this volume of consolation, all the sorrows 
 of the past have been quickened into life, and new 
 fountains of grief opened in his heart. By letters 
 recently received, we learn that his present compan- 
 ion, a lady of peculiar excellence, both intellectual 
 and moral, is rapidly, though sweetly, passing to 
 the skies. Thus has Providence most singularly 
 prepared this man of God to perform the delicate 
 task of speaking to the widow, and by anticipated 
 sorrows, mingling deep sympathy with her drear and 
 cheerless solitude. Whilst he hands forth the cup 
 of consolation, he assures the mourner that it has 
 virtue; for he has tasted it, and proved its power. 
 a* 
 
VI IiNTRODUCTION. 
 
 With the poet he can say, and thus teach every 
 mourner to say 
 
 " What though a cloud o'ershade my sight, 
 
 Big with affliction's tear ; 
 Yet FAITH, amid the drops that fall, 
 
 Discerns a rainbow there." 
 
 It will not be thought strange, when the circum- 
 stances are considered under which this book was 
 prepared, that it is the most precious of all his works. 
 There is a subdued and tender spirit breathed into 
 every paragraph and sentence. There is something 
 which seizes upon the best feelings of the man, 
 awakening a livelier interest in the daughters of 
 affliction. 
 
 There is so much of God in these pages, the 
 milder and more lovely attributes of his nature are 
 made so delightfully prominent, that the voice of 
 murmuring must be hushed. The divine wisdom is 
 so clearly illustrated, carrying forward the purposes 
 of benevolence, even by the agency of death, that the 
 heart must confide in God and be contented. 
 " With patience, then, the course of duty run, 
 God nothing does, nor suffers to be done, 
 But you yourself would do, if you could see 
 The end of all events as well as He." 
 
 W. P. 
 
 New-York, May 1841. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 ONE of the errands on which the Son of God came 
 from heaven to earth, was to bind up the broken- 
 hearted, and to comfort all that mourn : and during 
 his sojourn upon earth, the tenderest sympathy was 
 one of the virtues which adorned that holy nature, in 
 which dwelt, as in its temple, " all the fulness of the 
 Godhead bodily." 
 
 Like their Divine Master, the ministers of the 
 gospel ought to be sons of consolation, and to perform 
 the functions of a comforter, as well as those of an 
 instructor: for if pure and undefiled religion, as 
 regards the professors of Christianity, consists, in part, 
 of visiting the widow and fatherless in their affliction, 
 how much more incumbent is it on its teachers, to 
 cherish and to manifest the same tenderness of spirit 
 towards this deeply suffering portion of the human 
 family. A group of children gathered round a widowed 
 mother, and sobbing out their sorrows, as she repeats 
 to them, amidst many tears, their father's loved and 
 honoured name, is one of those pictures of woe, on 
 which few can look with an unmoistened eye. 
 
 Is it not strange, then, that with claims upon our 
 sympathy, so strong and so generally acknowledged, 
 
VU1 PREFACE. 
 
 such mourners should have engaged no pious author 
 to produce a separate treatise for their relief? That 
 while the department of hortatory theology is so rich 
 in its stores of consolation for the afflicted in general, 
 the widow should have had no tribute of sympathy 
 specially prepared to meet her sad case ? At least I 
 know of none. Popular treatises of inestimable value, 
 such as Cecil's "Friendly Visit to the House of 
 Mourning ;" Grosvenor's " Mourner Comforted ;" and 
 Hill's " Faith's estimate of Afflictive Dispensations," 
 published by the Religious Tract Society, under the 
 title " It is Well ;" are known by thousands to their 
 consolation, and are, of course, as appropriate to the 
 widow as to any other of the varieties of mourners 
 but she needs a special message of comfort from her 
 Lord; a voice which speaks to her case alone; a strain 
 of consolation which, in its descriptions and condo- 
 lence, is appropriate, and exclusively so, to her. As 
 it is the peculiarity of our sorrows which often gives 
 them their depth and pungency, so it is the peculiarity 
 of sympathy also which gives to this cordial for a 
 Minting spirit, its balmy and reviving power. Afflic- 
 tion, like bodily disease, has numerous varieties; and, 
 comfort, like medicine, derives its efficacy from its 
 suitableness to the case. 
 
 In Dr. Adam Thompson's " Consolations for Chris- 
 tian Mourners," there are two excellent sermons 
 addressed to widows ; but these constitute no excep- 
 tion to the statement, that there is no separate work 
 for such mourners. May the present attempt, spe- 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 cially addressed to them, by one who knows, he 
 trusts, by experience, the value of the considerations 
 he submits to others ; by one who has been called in 
 time past to weep, and is now trembling and weeping 
 again, be blessed by the God of all consolation, for 
 their comfort. 
 
 The following work is written with great simpli- 
 city, in sentiment and style: for it would be a mock- 
 ery of woe to approach it with far fetched subjects; 
 recondite discussion ; cold logic ; or artificial rhetoric- 
 The bruised heart loves the gentlest handling, and 
 the troubled spirit is soothed with the simplest music. 
 The soul has no inclination, at such times, and in 
 such circumstances, for any thing but the " sincere 
 milk of the word," leaving the strong meat for other 
 and healthier seasons. 
 
 J. A. J. 
 
 Edgbaston, March 9th y 1841. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 FIRST PART. 
 
 APPROPRIATE SUGGESTIONS TO WIDOWS. 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 I. Sympathy 11 
 
 II. Submission 16 
 
 III. Instruction - 35 
 
 IV. Consolation 54 
 
 V. Confidence in God 79 
 
 VI. Benefits of Affliction 89 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 SCRIPTURE EXAMPLES OF WIDOWS. 
 
 I. NAOMI, RUTH, and ORPAH - - - 101 
 
 II. The Widow of Zarephath ... H6 
 
 III. The Widow of one of the Sons of the Prophets 128 
 
 IV. The Widow casting her two Mites into the Treasury 141 
 V. The Widow of Nain .... 148 
 
 VI. ANNA the Prophetess .... 157 
 THIRD PART. 
 
 LETTERS TO WIDOWS. 
 
 JOHN HOWE, to Lady RUSSELL ... 163 
 
 Mrs. LOVE'S Letters to her Husband - - - 170 
 
 Mr. LOVE'S Reply 172 
 
 LETTERS FROM WIDOWS. 
 
 Mrs. HUNTINGTON'S Letter on the Death of her Husband 176 
 
 To a Friend who had lost a near Relation - - 180 
 
 To a Friend who had lost her Husband - - - 185 
 Lady POWERSCOURT'S Letter on the Death of her Husband 189 
 
 Letter vi. from ditto 191 
 
 Letter vin. from ditto 194 
 
 Letter ix. from ditto ]96 
 
 Mrs. LEWIS'S Letter on the Death of her Husband - 198 
 
 Conclusion 305 
 
FIRST PART. 
 
 APPROPRIATE SUGGESTIONS TO WIDOWS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 A WIDOW ! What a desolate name ! If there be 
 one amidst the crowd of mourners that tread the vale 
 of tears, who above all others, claims our sympathy, 
 and receives it, it is you who have laid down the 
 endearing appellation of Wife, to take up that of 
 Widow. It would be a mockery of your woe to say, 
 "Woman, why weepest thou?" You may weep, 
 you must, you ought. You are placed by Providence 
 in the region of sorrow, and tears befit your condition. 
 Let them flow, and mine shall flow with them, for if it 
 be ever our duty to weep with those that weep, it is 
 when the Widow is before us. The death-bed scene 
 is still fresh in your recollection; the parting look, the 
 
12 SYMPATHY. 
 
 last embrace are still present to your imagination. 
 And oh ! the sense of loss that presses like a dead 
 weight upon your spirit, and converts this whole busy 
 world around you, into one vast wilderness. You 
 have my tenderest condolence. The closest tie which 
 bound you to earth has been severed. It seems to 
 you as if there were nothing left for you to do upon 
 earth but to weep. The husband's much loved im- 
 age, if it hang not upon the wall, silent and motion- 
 less, is drawn upon the heart, for the imagination to 
 gaze upon, and to remind you of your desolation. 
 He whose absence but for a week or a day created 
 an uneasiness which nothing could relieve but his re- 
 turn, is gone not for a day, or a week, or a year, but 
 forever. He is never to come back, to gladden the 
 heart of his wife, and to bless his household. 
 
 It has been finely observed " that the loss of a 
 friend, (and much more the loss of a husband,) upon 
 whom the heart was fixed, to whom every wish and 
 endearment tended, is a state of dreary desolation, 
 on which the mind looks abroad impatient of itself, 
 and finds nothing but emptiness and horror. The 
 blameless life, the artless tenderness, the pious sim- 
 plicity, the modest resignation, the patient sickness, 
 and the quiet death, are remembered only to add 
 value to the loss, to aggravate regret for what can- 
 not be amended, to deepen sorrow for what cannot 
 be recalled. Other evils, fortitude may repel, or 
 hope may mitigate, but irreparable privation leaves 
 nothing to exercise resolution, or flatter expectation. 
 
SYMPATHY. 13 
 
 The dead cannot return, and nothing is left "as here 
 but languishment and grief."* 
 
 But it is not merely the loss of such a friend you 
 have to mourn, but probably the means of your com- 
 fortable sustenance. Your husband was your pro- 
 vider, and the supporter of your babes. When he 
 died all your prospects faded. The sun of your pros- 
 perity set upon his grave. Even when an ample for- 
 tune is left, it is a poor substitute for that friend 
 whose decease covered the earth with sackcloth, and 
 spread a pall over every terrestrial scene ; but whal 
 an aggravation of woe, what a dreariness is added to 
 desolation, when the spectres of poverty and want. 
 or even the dark portents of care and privation, rise 
 from a husband's grave. Perhaps even his labor, 
 and skill, and patient perseverance, were but just 
 sufficient to support the family ; and what is the 
 widow, unused, perhaps, to business, and untrained 
 to hardship, to do alone ? " It is," says Mr. Bruce, 
 " the climax of human sorrow, when the wife of 
 youth is left to mourn the loss of an affectionate hus- 
 band at the time when his well-formed schemes were 
 advancing to maturity; so that, in addition to the 
 care of providing for her rising offspring, some of 
 whom never learned to lisp the name of father, she 
 has to struggle with difficulties which his sagacity 
 and perseverance might have overcome." 
 
 Nor is it only the want of support, afflicted woman 
 
 * Dr. Thomson's Consolations for Mourners, p. 119. 
 2 
 
14 SYMPATHY. 
 
 you dread for yourself and your children, but the 
 want of protection. You have seen enough of the 
 world to know, how selfishness prevails over be- 
 nevolence, and how little disinterestedness is to be 
 expected from that multitude, in which are to be 
 found so many who oppress the weak, and so many 
 more that neglect the friendless. A thousand fears 
 of insult and injuries rise in your perturbed mind, 
 and you feel as if the tear of the widow, and the cry 
 of the fatherless, will have little power to interest the 
 busy, and to melt the iron heart of the unjust. Al- 
 ready, perhaps, you think you have received signifi- 
 cant hints, not to be mistaken, even from the friends 
 of your husband, that your expectations, even of 
 counsel and advice, much more of other kinds of 
 assistance, must be very limited. It is possible, how- 
 ever, that sorrow, solitude, and dependance, may 
 have produced a sensitiveness on this subject, which 
 makes you more suspicious and mistrustful, than you 
 have need to be, and that after all, there is a larger 
 portion of sympathy and generous intention, than you 
 may be led to suppose. 
 
 To the widow of the departed Christian, there is 
 another ingredient in the cup of her sorrow, another 
 aggravation of the loss she has sustained, and that 
 is, she is deprived of her own spiritual comforter and 
 companion ; and if she be a mother, of the religious 
 instructor and guide of her children. He that was 
 at once the king, the prophet, and the priest of the 
 little domestic community, is removed. How ten- 
 
SYMPATHY. 15 
 
 derly did he solve her douhts, relieve her perplexities, 
 and comfort her in her sorrows. How sweet was it 
 to take counsel with him on the things of another 
 world, and to walk to the house of GOD in company 
 What sabbaths they spent, and what sacramental 
 seasons they enjoyed together. And then his nightly 
 and morning sacrifice at the domestic altar ; his fer- 
 vent prayers, and his pious breathings for his family: 
 but that tongue is now silent in the grave ; those 
 holy hands are now no more lifted up to bless the 
 household; that mild sceptre of paternal rule has 
 dropped. Even he, good man, felt a dread and a 
 trembling that sometimes almost overcame his faith 
 and trust, as he lay upon his death bed, and antici- 
 pated the hour when he should leave his children 
 amidst the snares and temptations of this dangerous 
 world. I do not wonder that you, his sad survivor, 
 should feel your great responsibility, as you look 
 round on the bereaved circle, and remember that 
 these young immortals are left to your sole guidance 
 and guardianship. Often you say, as the tears roll 
 down your cheeks, " It is not merely, nor chiefly, the 
 the care of their bodies, nor the culture of their minds, 
 that makes me feel my sad privation, but the inter- 
 ests of their souls. I could eat my bread, if it were 
 only bread, and drink my cup of cold water, and deal 
 out bread and water to them with tolerable com- 
 posure, if I could well discharge the duty I owe to 
 their souls, and see them following their sainted parent 
 to the skies : but oh ! the thought that my boys have 
 
16 SYMPATHY. 
 
 lost a father to guide them along the slippery paths 
 of youth, and form their character for time and eter- 
 nity too ; and that at a season when his instructive 
 example, and advice was most needed; this is the 
 wormwood and gall of a widow's cup." 
 
 Afflicted woman, if sympathy be a balm for the 
 wounds of your lacerated heart, you have it. Bad 
 as human nature is, it is not so entirely bereft of the 
 whatsoever things are lovely, as not to condole with 
 you. It is not yours to reproach, in the language oi 
 holy writ, the insensibility of a whole generation, 
 and say, " Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by : 
 come see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, 
 wherewith the Lord has afflicted me." This little 
 volume, at any rate, comes to you as a comforter 
 and a counsellor. One individual has thought upon 
 you ; and as a minister of him, who wept at the 
 grave of Lazarus, and who restored to the widow of 
 Nain, her son, when she was following him with a 
 heart half broken to the grave, he comes with more 
 than human sympathy, and earthly consolation. It 
 is balm from heaven he brings, and a divine medi- 
 cine for your sick and sorrowful heart. It is Chris- 
 tianity, in the person of one of' its ministers that pre- 
 sents the cup of peace. turn not away from it, 
 nor refuse to be comforted. Hush then, the clamor 
 of tumultuous thoughts ; calm the perturbations of 
 your troubled spirit; for the voice of the Comforter 
 can be heard only in the silence of submission. Yes, 
 even your grief is susceptible of alleviation. I can- 
 
SYMPATHY. 17 
 
 not break open the tomb to undo the work of death, 
 ; and re-animate and restore the dust which lies sleep- 
 ing there: I cannot replace by your side the dear 
 companion that has been torn from it : but I can sug- 
 gest topics, which, if you can sufficiently control your 
 feelings to ponder them, are of such a nature, so 
 soothing and sustaining, that they will pluck the 
 sting from your affliction, and enable you by God's 
 grace, to bear up with fortitude under a load, which 
 would otherwise crush you to the earth. I am anx- 
 ious at once to possess you with the idea, that you 
 ought not to be, and need not be inconsolable. Ten- 
 derly as I feel for you, and anxious as I am not to 
 handle roughly the wounds which have been inflicted 
 upon your peace, still I must remind you that you 
 are not authorised to indulge yourself in an un- 
 limited liberty of grief; nor to justify such an excess, 
 by affirming that you do well to be sorrowful even 
 unto death. I beseech you then to obtain leave oi 
 your agitated heart, to listen to the gracious words 
 of Him of whom it is so beautifully said, " He com- 
 forteth those that are cast down." In his name 1 
 speak to you; and I speak of that which I have 
 tasted, and felt of the Word of GOD. I too have 
 been afflicted like yourself, and have known, not by 
 observation merely, but by experience, what a deso- 
 lation and blank one single death can make in the 
 garden of earthly joys: and where in that hour of 
 dreariness and woe, the lonely spirit may find o 
 refuge and a home. 
 
 2* 
 
18 SUBMISSION. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SUBMISSION. 
 
 "BE still, and know that I am GOD." Such is 
 the admonition which comes to you ; and which 
 comes from heaven. It is GOD himself that has be- 
 reaved you, through whatever second causes he has 
 inflicted the blow. Not even a sparrow falleth to 
 the ground without his knowledge, much less a 
 rational and immortal creature. He has the keys 
 of death, and never for a moment trusts them out of 
 his hand : the door of the sepulchre is never un- 
 locked but by himself. Though men die and drop 
 as unheeded by many as the fall of the autumnal 
 leaf in the pathless desert, they die not by chance. 
 Every instance of mortality, that for example which 
 has reduced you to your present sorrowful condition, 
 is a separate decision of infinite wisdom. Whether 
 therefore the death of your husband was slow or 
 sudden ; at home or abroad ; . by accident or disease ; 
 it was appointed, and all its circumstances arranged 
 by GOD. " Be still, therefore, and know that he is 
 GOD who doeth his will among the armies of heaven, 
 and the inhabitants of the earth, nor allows any one 
 
SUBMISSION. 19 
 
 to say unto him, What doest thou ?" Bow down 
 before him with unqualified submission,* and find 
 relief in acquiescence. 
 
 But what is submission to God ? It is not a stoical 
 apathy; a state of mind that scorns to feel; a proud 
 refusal to pay the tribute of a tear to nature's God, 
 when he demands it. No : chastened grief is al- 
 lowed, is called for. Sorrow is one of the natural 
 affections of the soul, not to be uprooted, but culti- 
 vated. If we did not feel our losses, we should not 
 be the better for them. Gentle and well directed 
 grief, softens our hard hearts, and prepares them for 
 the impression of divine truth, just as showers in 
 spring mollify the ground, and meeten it for the re- 
 ception of the seed, and the process of germination. 
 But then you must repress inordinate grief. Sub- 
 mission to the will of God, while it allows reason- 
 able sorrow, forbids that which is excessive. Give 
 not yourselves up to sorrow. All passionate distress, 
 such as shuts out consolation and refuses to be com- 
 forted, is high rebellion against the will of heaven. 
 It is at once irreligious and unreasonable. It is 
 more, it is destructive, for it is " the sorrow of the 
 world that worketh death." Your health is now 
 doubly precious, and your life doubly desirable, for 
 the sake of your children. You alone have now to 
 care for them, perhaps, to provide for them ; and it 
 is immensely important not to waste that strength 
 and energy in consuming sorrow, which is necessary 
 for their welfare. Excessive grief will not on)y unfit 
 
20 SUBMISSION. 
 
 you for exertion, but it will incapacitate you from 
 deriving any improvement from the stroke. The 
 voice and lessons of God's providence will be un- 
 heeded, yea, unheard, amidst the noise of yoor tu- 
 multuous sorrows. Restrain your feelings. Call in 
 reason, and especially religion, to your assistance. 
 
 Submission forbids all passionate invective; all 
 rebellious language ; all bitter reflections on second 
 causes; and all questionings about the wisdom, 
 goodness, or equity of Providence. " I was dumb," 
 said the Psalmist, " I opened not my mouth ;" there 
 is submission "because thou didst it;" there is the 
 ground of it. It is said of Aaron, when both his 
 sons were struck dead before the Lord, he " held 
 his peace." It was not the silence of stupor, or of 
 stubbornness* but of submission. How striking is 
 the commendation passed upon Job, when it is said, 
 in reference to his behavior under his complicated 
 losses, " In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God 
 foolishly." He said nothing hreverend, or rebellious 
 against God. But it is equally incumbent upon you, 
 m order to the performance of this duty, that you 
 should not only suppress all murmuring and com- 
 plaining language, but all thoughts and feelings of 
 this kind. If while the tongue is silent, the heart is 
 full of rebellion, there is no acquiescence. Many 
 who would be afraid, or ashamed to give utterance 
 to their feelings of insubordination, still continue to 
 indulge them. The abstinence from murmuring and 
 repining words, then, is not submission, unless the 
 
SUBMISSION. 21 
 
 heart be still. We must not contend with God, nor 
 fight against Providence within the breast, for " he 
 search eth the heart and trieth the reins of the children 
 of men." 
 
 Submission is that state of the soul under afflictive 
 dispensations of Providence, which produces an ac- 
 quiescence in the will of God, as just, and wise, and 
 good. It expresses itself in some such manner as the 
 following ; " I feel and deeply feel the heavy loss 1 
 have sustained, and nature mourns and weeps ; but 
 as I am persuaded it is the Lord's doing, who has a 
 right to do as he pleases, and who is at the same 
 time too wise to mistake, and too benevolent to put 
 me to unnecessary pain, I endeavor to bow down to 
 his will." 
 
 Such is submission ; but how difficult ! How hard 
 the duty to acquiesce in an event, which has reduced 
 you to such a state of desolation, that earth seems 
 to have lost its principal charms. Difficult my af- 
 flicted friend it is, but not impossible. All things 
 are possible with God, and what you cannot do in 
 your own strength, you can in his. Multitudes have 
 submitted, whose loss was as great, whose prospects 
 were as gloomy as yours. I have heard the lan- 
 guage ; I have seen the conduct of submission in 
 widows' houses, and have admired the grace of God, 
 as manifested in such persons, and in such circum- 
 stances. That grace is sufficient for you. Do not 
 make up your mind that submission is impossible for 
 you j on the contrary be persuaded that it may, by 
 
22 SUBMISSION. 
 
 God's help, become your privilege, as it unquestion- 
 ably is your duty, to exercise it. Pray for it, let this 
 be the burden of your supplication to God, but let it 
 be presented in faith ; 
 
 O Lord my best desires fulfil, 
 
 And help me to resign, 
 Life, health, and husband, to thy will, 
 
 And make Thy pleasure mine. 
 
 In bringing you and others to this state of mind, 
 God employs motives ; he places certain truths and 
 sentiments before the mind of the afflicted and en- 
 ables them to contemplate these principles with such 
 fixed attention, as to admit their reasonableness and 
 force, and under their soothing and powerful infh> 
 ence, to suppress the murmur, and hush every com- 
 plaint to silence. Some of these I now present to 
 your notice. 
 
 1. Consider God's indubitable and unlimited right 
 to take from you the dear companion of your life. 
 
 Are we not all his creatures, over whom he has 
 an absolute, and irresponsible control ? Has he acted 
 the part of a ruthless invader of your domicile, and 
 committed an aggression, which he can as little jus- 
 tify, as you could resist ? Is it an unauthorised spoli- 
 ation ? No. Painful as it is to you, it was not an 
 unrighteous act in him. Shall he not do as he will 
 with his own ? You received your husband, if you 
 received him with right views, rather as a loan, than 
 an absolute gift; as a favor lent to be recalled at any 
 
SUBMISSION. 23 
 
 time, when the donor thought proper to do so. And 
 now he has demanded it back again. Hearken to 
 his expostulation ; " Woman, I do you no wrong, in 
 asking for what belongs to me. Have I deceived 
 you ? Did I ever renounce my right, or promise to 
 forego my claim ; or even intimate that I would not 
 urge it, till you had arrived at extreme old age ? Be 
 still, and know that I am God." Do not then con- 
 tend with God. Yield to his sovereign will. Submit 
 to his disposal, 
 
 2. But this perhaps will be thought by some like 
 vinegar to a festering wound ; and it will be felt as a 
 harsh and feeble motive to submission, to tell a 
 mourning widow that God had a right to take from 
 her the desire of her eyes. " Oh !" she is ready to 
 exclaim, " is this all you can say to me ?" No: but it 
 is the basis of every thing else : and even this is said 
 rather to awe the rebellious thoughts, to keep in 
 check the turbulent feelings, in order that silence and 
 calmness being obtained, softer and sweeter accents 
 may be listened to. Think then of his unerring wis- 
 dom. He cannot mistake. He does nothing at ran- 
 dom, nothing in haste, nothing in ignorance. " He is 
 wise in heart :" and his understanding is infinite. 
 He worketh all things after the counsel of his will. 
 He fills every thing with the product of his all- wise 
 mind ; yes, even your bitter cup of sorrow. " Verily 
 he is a God that hideth himself," but it is in the 
 secret place of his infallible wisdom. " His judg- 
 ments are a great deep," but it is a depth of un- 
 
24 SUBMISSION. 
 
 fathomable knowledge. There is some wise end to 
 be answered; some object worthy of himself to be 
 accomplished in your bereavement. He may not, 
 and will not, perhaps, reveal it to you now, for reasons 
 which he can justify : but if it were proper or pos- 
 sible for you to know it, you would exclaim, " Oh 
 the depth of the riches both of his wisdom and know- 
 ledge ! How unsearchable are his judgments, and 
 his ways past finding out." If you could see the 
 wisdom of his plans, and it were then left to your 
 choice to take back your husband again from the 
 grave, you would not dare to do it, on account of the 
 disarrangement and disorder which you would see 
 must ensue. Have you not sometimes abstracted 
 something from your children, without assigning any 
 reason, or explaining to them what it would be im- 
 proper for them to know, or impossible for them to 
 comprehend, and required them to confide in your 
 known prudence ? Is it too much for God to expect 
 this confidence from you? He is wise: confide in 
 His wisdom. The moment your thoughts are rising 
 into rebellion, or sinking into despondency, repeat the 
 short, the simple, but the potent sentiment, "God 
 has done it, and God is wise." 
 
 3. Nor is this all : for God is good. His name is 
 Love. His wisdom is employed to fulfil the pur- 
 poses of benevolence. He is concerned for the hap- 
 piness of his creatures. " He does not afflict willing- 
 ly, nor grieve the children of men." He takes no 
 pleasure in the tears and groans of his offspring, any 
 
SUBMISSION. 25 
 
 more than earthly parents do, but like them, he often 
 sees it necessary to call for their tears. Did you never 
 exercise your kindness in taking from the hand of a 
 child, that which the babe would not surrender 
 without weeping? Divine goodness, when it is 
 clearly understood in all its schemes and motives, 
 will be as clearly demonstrated in what it takes, as 
 in what it gives. Add these two ideas together, in- 
 finite goodness, and infinite wisdom. Apply them 
 both to God : believe that they really belong to him, 
 and that they were both concerned in your affliction, 
 and then murmur if you can. Did we really believe 
 in the doctrine of Providence, and that he who super- 
 intends its administration, unites to an arm of om- 
 nipotence, a mind of infinite knowledge, and a heart 
 of boundless love, submission would be easy. Is the 
 sepulchre of a husband the only place where his wis- 
 dom and love may be doubted ? Are these glorious 
 attributes dead and buried in the grave of that be- 
 loved man whom you have lost ? It is nothing that 
 you cannot understand how your present melancholy 
 circumstances can comport with love ; your children 
 often found it as difficult to harmonise your conduct 
 with love; but now they are arrived at manhood, 
 they clearly comprehend it, and admire the rich dis- 
 plays of judicious kindness with which your treat- 
 ment of them was replete. The time of weeping 
 and suffering, and with it the time of ignorance, has 
 passed away, and now your paternal character stands 
 justified before them. So shall it be with you, when 
 3 
 
26 SUBMISSION. 
 
 you have reached your maturity in heaven, you will 
 see the goodness of God which was contained even 
 in these painful dispensations of providence, under 
 which you now so bitterly suffer. Yes, God is good , 
 do not doubt it. Every attribute of God's nature is 
 a motive to submission ; every view we can take of 
 that nature, and our relations to him, is a reason why 
 we should acquiesce in what he does. It is only 
 when out of sight of him, that we can indulge in a 
 rebellious murmuring, and a refractory resistance of 
 his will ; the moment we come back into his awful 
 presence, and realise him as near, we feel subdued. 
 
 4. But the foundation of this state of mind is laid, 
 not only in considering what God is, but what WE 
 are. Murmuring and complaining have their origin 
 in ignorance or forgetfulness of our sinful condition. 
 None can truly submit to affliction which they do 
 not feel they have deserved. The heroine, a widow, 
 of what has been called one of the purest of our 
 tragedies, is made to say, in the bitterness and pres- 
 sure of her griefs, " Gracious heaven, what have I 
 done, to merit such afflictions ? As long as you have 
 such an opinion of yourself, there is, there can be, no 
 submission. The very idea that we do not deserve 
 it, is rebellion against the will of heaven, and will 
 inevitably lead to the most unholy and unchastised 
 sorrow. It is only when we enter into the words 
 of the Psalmist that we shall give up our mur* 
 murings and repinings, "He hath not dealt with us 
 after our sins, nor rewarded us according to our 
 
SUBMISSION. 27 
 
 iniquities." How meekly does the prophet submit 
 to the chastening hand of God, under the subduing 
 power of this one thought, " I will bear the indig- 
 nation of the Lord, because I have sinned against 
 him." " Wherefore should a man complain, a living 
 man for the punishment of his sins." Oh sufferer, take 
 this view of your case, and consider yourself a sinner. 
 Call to recollection what sin is, an infinite evil, and de- 
 serving of an infinite punishment; an evil that might 
 have long since consigned you to the abodes of inter- 
 minable misery . Dw .11 upon the number, the aggra^ 
 vations, and the repetitions of your sins. Among other 
 sins, perhaps, you may mention your ingratitude for, 
 and misimprovement of the mercy you have lost. 
 You made your husband your god, inasmuch as you 
 loved him more than God : and can you wonder that 
 he is removed ? " It is of the Lord's mercies that 
 you are not consumed, because his compassions fail 
 not." Dare you murmur, since you have only the 
 rod, when you might have had the curse ? Does the 
 language of complaint become those lips, which 
 might have been pouring forth the petition for a drop 
 of water to cool your parched tongue ? I deny not 
 the reality or the weight of your affliction : I do not 
 insult your griefs by affirming that their is no cause 
 for them. I admit you may justly go mourning all 
 your days ; but then I contend it is a powerful motive 
 to submit, to consider that you might have been tor- 
 mented through all eternity : and that nothing has a 
 more powerful tendency to check the excess of sor- 
 
28 SUBMISSION. 
 
 row, than the consideration, that your sins have justly 
 merited all you have suffered, ever will, or ever can, 
 suffer on earth. 
 
 5. But I may also mention that one of the great 
 ends of Providence in sending the affliction, is to 
 bring you into a state of submission. Perhaps you 
 have never yielded your heart to God. God spake 
 to you in your prosperity, and you would not hear. 
 You have tried to be independent of God. You have 
 lived for yourself and not for God. You have never 
 yet taken his yoke upon you. In the days of your 
 fullness you yielded not your heart to him ; and now 
 he is calling you to yield to him in the time of your 
 straits. As you would not submit to him amidst the 
 joys of the married state, he has placed you in widow- 
 hood, and calls for submission there. " Surely she 
 will resign herself to me now," is perhaps his decla- 
 ration and expectation. How much is he set on pro- 
 ducing this state of mind in you, when lie takes such 
 methods to accomplish it. Shall his end be defeated ? 
 Will you resist now ? Will you carry on the con- 
 flict in your weeds? What, not yield now, broken, 
 disappointed, forlorn, as you are ? Will you be re- 
 bellious, not only in sight of the flowing fountain, 
 but amidst the wreck and fragments of the broken 
 cisterns; and contend against God, like Jonah, not 
 only beneath the shade of the green and flourishing 
 gourd, but before the naked stem of the blighted and 
 withered one ? Oh woman, submit to God, it is for 
 this he has driven thee into the wilderness, like HA- 
 
SUBMISSION. 29 
 
 GAR of old, and mayest thou, like her, cease the con- 
 flict there, and say, " Thou God seest me. Here 
 also have I looked after him who seeth me. 
 
 6. Among the motives to submission, should he 
 placed, a due regard to your own comfort. It has 
 been beautifully said, that the wild bird, yet untamed 
 and unaccustomed to confinement, beats itself almost 
 to death against the wires of its cage, while the tame 
 prisoner, quietly acquiesces, and relieves its solitude 
 by a song. An apt illustration of the soothing influ- 
 ence of submission. No possible relief, but a certain 
 and immense addition to the calamity is gained by 
 mourning and repining. It is a vain and useless 
 thing, as well as a sinful one. It is of itself a deep 
 affliction, a sad discomposure of spirit, a fever of the 
 heart, a delirium of the soul, and is so much added 
 to the weight of the original trouble. But resigna- 
 tion to the dispensations of God's Providence, what 
 a blessed anodyne is this to the soul ; what a sabbath 
 from all those sinful disturbances which discompose 
 our spirits ; it is a lower heaven ; a green and sunny 
 spot in a region of gloom, and desolation: for as in 
 the state of glory there is an unchangeable agreement 
 between the will of the Creator and of the creature, 
 so according to the same measure wherein we conform 
 our wills to God's now, we proportionably enjoy the 
 holiness and blessedness of that state. Daughter of 
 sorrow, since you can no longer enjoy the pleasure of 
 possession, seek the comfort of submission. Extract 
 by resignation, the few drops of cordial, which even 
 
30 SUBMISSION. 
 
 your wormwood and gall contain. Forbidden any 
 longer to enjoy the sweetness of gratitude for the re- 
 tention of the boon, open your heart to the tran- 
 quillising comfort of surrendering it to God. Mol- 
 lify the wounds of your lacerated heart with the 
 balm of acquiescence, and do not inflame them with 
 the uncontroled grief of a rebellious spirit. Try the 
 effect of those sweet words, " Father ! not my will, 
 but thine be done." They will be like the voice of 
 Christ, to the winds and waves of the stormy lake : 
 or like heavenly music to the troubled mind. There 
 is no relief but in unqualified submission, and there 
 is relief in that. 
 
 7. Perhaps you are a professor of religion, and 
 ought to find in that another and a powerful motive 
 to this frame of mind. You profess to believe in God 
 through Christ, and to consider him as the author of 
 all our trials, as well as of all our comforts ; to view 
 him as your Father; to be assured that he loves you 
 too well to do you any harm ; to be confident that 
 he is making all things work together for your good. 
 Now then let us see the blessed influence of your 
 faith. Let us behold in you the tranquillising power 
 of your principles. Should you sorrow as do others? 
 Should you appear as uncontrolable in your grief as 
 those who know not God A day or two since I 
 visited a widow, whose husband had been killed by 
 the overthrow of a carriage. I found her as might 
 be expected deeply afflicted ; but it was grief kept 
 within due bounds by the controling power of emin- 
 
SUBMISSION. 31 
 
 ent piety, as dignified as it was deep, and there were 
 circumstances too, eminently calculated to produce a 
 complicated sorrow. Her calm, though affecting dis- 
 tress attracted the attention of a lady whose brother 
 had died awfully sudden. " Ah," she exclaimed, to 
 my bereaved friend, " how differently did my sister- 
 in-law act to what you have done. But your com- 
 posure is the effect of religion. I see now the power 
 of religion." Be it your study to exhibit the same 
 power, and to draw forth the same testimony. 
 Glorify God in the fires. Let it be your prayer that 
 your religion may shine forth in all its lustre, and 
 manifest itself in all its glory. Let it be one of your 
 consolations to be enabled to do honor to the truth 
 and grace of God in your support. Think what an. 
 effect a contrary spirit will have upon those who ob- 
 serve it. How many widows making a profession, 
 of religion, have by the violence of their grief 
 astonished the observer of their conduct. It was not 
 a scene or a season in which to utter the ^anguage 
 of reproach, but who could help saying to them- 
 selves, though delicacy kept them from saying to the 
 sufferer, " Where in all this tumult of soul, and ex- 
 cessive grief, is their religion. Is there no help for 
 them in God ? We expected a calmer sorrow, from 
 a Christian. She does not much commend religion 
 to us." 
 
 8. Some of you may contrast your circumstances 
 with those of others around you. Wrap not your 
 weeds upon you, and say, "Is there any sorrow Jike 
 
32 SUBMISSION. 
 
 unto my sorrow ?" Is there ? Yes ; and far greater. 
 You have lost a good husband; but perhaps you 
 have a comfortable support for yourself and your 
 children, there goes the poor widow who has lost 
 her support, as well as her husband. You are left 
 with fatherless children, but they are kind and duti- 
 ful, there is a widow whose heart bruised by her 
 loss, is well nigh broken by the un kindness of an un- 
 dutiful son. Your children are all in health, there 
 is a widow who pours her daily tears over a crippled 
 son, or a consumptive daughter. You are surround- 
 ed by a wide circle of sympathising friends, there 
 is a widow, forlorn, alone, and a stranger in this 
 busy world. Oh it is well sometimes to compare 
 our sorrows with those of others. What widow that 
 shall read these pages can speak of grief like the 
 following ? 
 
 " A poor woman, fiom the north of England, went 
 with her family to seek employment in the parish 
 of St. Ma/y-le-bone, London. The husband, through 
 fatigue, was attacked with a bilious fever ; the dis- 
 order soon assumed a very malignant, putrid char- 
 acter, of which he died. Two of the children caught 
 the infection, and died also. The widow was re- 
 duced, with her surviving children, to the most de- 
 plorable poverty, and seemed on the point of starv- 
 ing. In this situation she was visited by a Christian, 
 who observed an old Bible, with a large print, lying 
 on her table. He said, 'I perceive you can read, and 
 have got the best of books by you.' She replied, 
 
SUBMISSION. 33 
 
 * Oh, sir, what should I have done without it ? It is 
 not my own. My eyes are, with illness, anxiety, 
 and tears, too weak for a small print: I borrowed 
 this Bible of a neighbour. It has been food to my 
 body as well as to my soul, i nave often passed 
 many hours without any nourishment, but I have 
 read this blessed book, till I have forgotten my 
 hunger.' Sometime after this the poor woman died, 
 literally worn down and exhausted with want and 
 anxiety; but the night before she expired, the con- 
 solations of the holy Scriptures shone in her coun- 
 tenance. She spoke of her dissolution with a smile 
 of sacred triumph ; enumerated her pious ancestors 
 and acquaintance, with whom she trusted shortly to 
 unite in joy and felicity ; and seemed, as it were, to 
 feel the saying brought to pass, which is written, 
 1 Death is swallowed up in victory.' " 
 
 Read this, and be still. Read this, and learn that 
 there is no weight of sorrow under which genuine 
 faith in God's word, cannot sustain you. 
 
 9. Make another comparison, I mean between 
 your losses and trials, as a woman, and your mer- 
 cies and gains as a Christian. Here, say you, is the 
 grave of my dear husband, there, I say, is the cross, 
 the grave, the throne of your Redeemer. Here, say 
 you, is his vacant seat at my table, his vacant place 
 at my side, his vacant chair at my hearth there is 
 God, with his smiling countenance, his heart of love, 
 his covenant of grace, his all-sufficient resources, to 
 fill the vacuum. Here, say you, is the weight of 
 
34 SUBMISSION. 
 
 woe and care pressing upon my heart, like a dead 
 unsupportable load but there is not the burden oi 
 nnpardoned sin, sinking down your soul to the bot- 
 tomless pit. Here, say you, is now my gloomy house 
 there is the house of your God, always inhabited 
 by his gracious presence. Here, say you, I am a for- 
 lorn creature upon earth, having lost all that render- 
 ed the world delightful there is heaven glowing 
 like a brilliant firmament over your head, into which 
 your departed husband has entered, and where you 
 will soon join him in glory everlasting. Think how 
 many widows there are, who have no covenant God 
 to go to; no consolations of the Spirit to sustain 
 them ; no pleasure in the Bible or in prayer to soothe 
 them. You, even you, ought to rejoice in a present 
 Saviour and a future heaven. All the attributes of 
 God, all the offices of Christ, all the consolations 
 of the Spirit, all the promises of scripture, all the 
 blessings of grace, all the prospects of glory remain 
 to be set over against your loss: and is not this 
 enough ? 
 
INSTRUCTION. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 GOD is the best and only infallible teacher. " None 
 teacheth like him." He delivereth his lessons in 
 various ways, and through different mediums. The 
 Scriptures, of course, contain the fullest and clearest 
 revelation of his will ; but these are corroborated and 
 illustrated by the works of nature, and the dispensa- 
 tions of Providence. Events are pregnant with 
 instruction. " Hence," saith the prophet, " the Lord's 
 voice cometh unto the city : hear ye the rod, and who 
 hath appointed it." Yes, every rod, as well as every 
 word, has a voice ; and it becomes us to listen to it. 
 Afflicted woman, read the lessons which Providence 
 has inscribed in dark characters on the tomb of your 
 husband. It may be that God is saying to you, " I 
 spake unto thee in thy prosperity, but thou saidst I 
 will not hear; this hath been thy manner from youth 
 that thou obeyedst not my voice." Jer. xxii. 21. 
 Taken up with the enjoyment of the dear objects to 
 be found in a quiet and comfortable home, you with- 
 held your heart from God. You neither loved, served, 
 enjoyed, nor glorified him as the end of your existence* 
 
36 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 Your husband was your idol, the stay and prop of 
 your mind: and now God, who is a jealous God, and" 
 will not endure a rival, has removed the object of 
 that supreme attachment, which ought to have been 
 placed on him ; and in language which derives addi- 
 tional weight arid solemnity from being uttered over 
 the sepulchre, saith " I am God, and there is none 
 else. Thou shalt have none other God besides me ; 
 and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
 mind, and heart, and soul, and strength." This is 
 his demand now, and it always was. It is not only 
 what he says, now in the wilderness into which he 
 has driven you, but what he said when you walked 
 in the Eden of your earthly delight, and felt that 
 your husband was to you as the tree of life in the 
 midst of the garden. Now then open your ear, and 
 hear the voice of his Providence. Open your eye and 
 read the lessons which, as I have said, are inscribed 
 on that tomb, which contains all that was dearest to 
 you on earth. Desire to learn ; be willing to learn ; 
 and much is needed to be learnt from the sorrowful 
 scenes through which you have been, and still are 
 called to pass. When God takes such methods to 
 teach, surely you should be willing to learn ; and it 
 may be that it is his intention to make up to you by 
 spiritual instruction and consolation, if you will re- 
 ceive it, the loss he has called you to sustain of tem- 
 poral comfort. 
 
 1. Are you not most impressively reminded of the 
 evil of sin ? 
 
INSTRUCTION. 37 
 
 What could more afFectingly illustrate this, than 
 the deep sorrow which has fallen upon you ? If the 
 magnitude of an evil may be ascertained by the 
 magnitude of its effects, what must sin be, which 
 nas produced such consequences, as those you have 
 witnessed. What agonies it has inflicted, what ties 
 it has rent asunder, what desolation it has made, 
 what scenes it has produced, that widowed mother, 
 those helpless, perhaps portionless babes, that gloomy 
 house, those flowing tears too well proclaim ! And 
 what is the cause ? Sin. " Sin entered into the 
 world, and death by sin : so death has passed upon 
 all men, for that all have sinned." Yes; death with 
 all its consequences, are the bitter fruits of sin. Had 
 not man sinned he had been immortal. Every 
 instance of death is the infliction of a penalty ; for 
 " the wages of sin is death." Think of what sin has 
 robbed you. Calculate the mischief which it has 
 wrought in your desolate abode. What has made 
 you a widow ? Sin. What has made your children 
 fatherless ? Sin. And think of the millions who are 
 at this moment, in similar sad and melancholy cir- 
 cumstances. God is benevolent, and doth not afflict 
 willingly, nor grieve the children of men ; and yet he 
 is perpetually multiplying widows and orphans by 
 the ravages of death. How evil must sin be in his 
 sight, when he takes this method of showing his ab- 
 horrence of it ; when he has fixed this penalty to it. 
 And then this is only the first death, a mere type and 
 symbol of that more painful " second death," which 
 4 
 
38 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 falleth upon the wicked in another world. Consider 
 then the evil of sin. Take deep, large, views of it. 
 Recollect you are a sinner : not vicious indeed, but 
 virtuous ; not profligate, but moral ; but still a sinner 
 in the sight of God. " For all have sinned and come 
 short of the glory of God." Oh have you thought of 
 this ? Have you been convinced of sin by the Spirit 
 of God ? Have you seen your sinfulness, as well as 
 heard of it ? Felt it, as well as known it ? Many 
 have thought of their sins, for the first time in their 
 life, with any seriousness, in their afflictions; and 
 have said with the poet : 
 
 Father ! I bless thy gentle hand ; 
 
 How kind was thy chastising rod, 
 That brought my conscience to a stand, 
 
 And brought my wandering soul to God. 
 
 Foolish and vain I went astray, 
 
 E're I had felt thy scourges, Lord j 
 I lost my guide and lost my way : 
 
 But now I love and keep thy word. 
 
 'Tis good to me to wear the yoke, 
 
 For pride is apt to rise and swell ; 
 'Tis good to bear my Father's stroke, 
 That I might learn his statutes well. 
 
 If you have thought but little of sin till now, may 
 you begin to think upon it in your affliction. You 
 have lost your husband, but how much greater a 
 calamity would be the loss of your soul ; and lost it 
 must be, if you have no just sense of sin. There can 
 be no salvation without pardon; and no pardon with- 
 
INSTRUCTION. 39 
 
 out repentance towards God, and faith in our Lord 
 Jesus Christ; and no repentance and faith, with- 
 out the knowledge of sin. Oh ! what an unutterable 
 blessing will it prove; what a cause for adoring 
 wonder and gratitude through all time and eternity 
 too, if such affliction should prove to be the means of 
 your eternal salvation ; and if the death of the dear 
 companion of your life should be overruled for the 
 salvation of your immortal soul. Happy will it be, 
 if led by this event to think of the sinfulness of your 
 heart and conduct in the sight of God, you should be 
 brought, in the character of a true penitent, and real 
 believer, to the foot of the cross. How will a sense 
 of divine pardon sooth your sorrows! How will God's 
 forgiving love comfort your soul ! How sweetly will 
 you sing even while the tear of widowhood is glitter- 
 ing in your eye, and its sable costume is spread over 
 you, " It was good for me that I was afflicted." 
 
 2. Another lesson to be learnt by widowhood is 
 the vanity of the world, and its insufficiency to make 
 us happy. " Vanity of vanity, said the preacher ; all 
 is vanity, and vexation of spirit." And you have 
 found it to be so. You have proved that the world, 
 if not an unsatisfying, is at any rate, an uncertain 
 portion. How joyous, till lately, were your circum- 
 stances. The purest happiness of an earthly nature 
 is that which springs up in a comfortable home, 
 where there is a cordial union of hearts, as well as a 
 legal union of hands, between man and wife. The 
 tender sympathy, the delicate affection, the minute 
 
40 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 attentions, the watchful solicitude, vhe ceaseless 
 offices of conjugal love, are the sweetest ingredient in 
 the cup of life, and contribute a thousand times more 
 to terrestrial enjoyment, than all the possessions of 
 wealth, and all the blandishments of rank, station, and 
 fashion. " With the affection, and health, and com- 
 pany of my husband," exclaims the fond and devoted 
 wife, " I feel nothing wanting to my comfort, and can 
 easily dispense with many things that others consider 
 essential to their enjoyment." Such, perhaps, my 
 mourning reader, was once your happy lot, for such a 
 sharer of your domicile had you. Little cause had 
 you to envy the gay or the great ; as little to sigh 
 for their access to the party or the rout. To welcome 
 at eventide, when the heat and burden of the day 
 were over, the good man of the house, to his own 
 fireside, and to your society, and to feel the honest 
 pride and satisfaction of a wife, that he needed no 
 other society to make him happy, this was your 
 nightly joy, for years that flew too fast. Perhaps you 
 thought too much had been said about the vanity of 
 the world, for it was a pleasant world to you> and 
 you were ready to blame the preacher, and call him 
 ascetic and misanthropic, and reproach him for dis- 
 turbing the happiness of others by the waitings of his 
 own disappointed heart. But, ah ! you too, have at 
 length returned an echo of that sad cry, and said in 
 the bitterness of your spirit, "All is vanity." Yes, 
 the lovely vision of your domestic bliss has vanished. 
 Death has intruded, and changed the scene. !No 
 
INSTRUCTION. 41 
 
 more returns at the accustomed hour, the joy of your 
 heart and the light of your eyes. His chair is va- 
 cant. His place at the fire-side, which knew him 
 once, knows him no more. He is not on a journey. 
 No : he is in the grave, and with him died the world 
 to you. Every thing is now changed ; and you too 
 exclaim, i; Oh, vain world, thou hast deceived me. 
 Are all thy flattering smiles, and ample promises, 
 come to this ? In one hour I have fallen from the 
 heights of happiness, into all the depths of woe. 
 And am I a widow ? Yes, and a widow indeed." 
 
 Suc/i then is the world : such all it can do to make 
 you happy. Hearken to the language of God, by the 
 prophet, " My people have committed two evils, they 
 have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and 
 hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can 
 hold no water." There are the fragments of the 
 broken cisterns ; there the spilled water ; there the 
 memorials of fragile comfort, and disappointed hope; 
 and there, hard by, let me add, the blessed con- 
 trast, the full and flowing fountain, sending out its 
 never failing streams of pure and living waters. The 
 world has deceived 9,nd forsaken you. Now turn 
 to God. You cannot restore the broken cistern, nor 
 gather up tne wasted contents: now turn to the 
 fountain. You have settled your heart upon the 
 creaiure, and it has proved a quicksand; now settle 
 it on God, " the rock of ages." You have leaned 
 upon an arm of flesh, and it has failed you; now 
 trust u die arms of the Omnipotent Spirit. How 
 4* 
 
42 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 many, when the first shock of their disappointment 
 was over, and their faculties have recovered from the 
 stunning influence of their loss, have seen the folly 
 as well as sin, of trusting for happiness to mortal 
 man, and have turned their weeping, longing, and 
 imploring eye to the eternal God. 
 
 And even those who have been convinced before, 
 of the vanity of the world, at least by profession, 
 and have been taught to set their hearts on God, 
 have perhaps forgotten too much their principles and 
 their profession, and trusted for a larger share of theii 
 happiness than they ought to have done, to the 
 things that are seen and temporal. Yes, you who 
 are called the people of God, and are such, we hope, 
 even you have trusted far more to the world, to the 
 life of your husband, and to your other possessions 
 for your soul's portion, than was your duty. An 
 earthly-mindedness has crept over you and damped 
 the ardour of your religious affections. You have 
 sought the day-light of your soul from the smile of a 
 creature, instead of the light of God's countenance ; 
 and now the lesser luminary is extinguished, and 
 you are in darkness. Still, however, the greater 
 light remains; the Sun of Righteousness is shining 
 in all its splendour and noon-tide glory; go forth from 
 your gloomy and disconsolate situation into the bright- 
 ness and warmth of his heart cheering radiance, and 
 sun yourself in the ardour of his beams. 
 
 3. What a lesson does widowhood teach of the 
 power and value of true religion: and that in twe 
 
INSTRUCTION. 43 
 
 ways. First by the influence of it, where it is pos- 
 sessed, in supporting the mind and consoling it, 
 amidst sorrows which from any other source, knows 
 not consolation's name. I appeal to devout and holy 
 women, who have been enabled in the hour of their 
 extremity to cast themselves by faith, and prayer, 
 and submission upon God, and to still the tumult of 
 their thoughts, and keep down the rising tide of their 
 grief, by the potency of his grace, whether the value 
 of piety ever rose so high in their esteem, as in that 
 moment when they first answered to the name of 
 widow, and they felt that they could do it without 
 fainting at the sound. Friends gathered round them 
 in all the tenderness of sympathy, and there was a 
 balm in their "words, and looks, and actions; but at 
 the same time, each new comer seemed in other 
 respects to open their wounds afresh, and to be a 
 new remembrancer of the loss sustained. It was 
 only when the mourner could get to her Bible, and 
 to her God, in all the power of faith and prayer, that 
 she felt she could be sustained; and then she did 
 feel it. Astonished at her own calmness; at her 
 tranquillity amidst such a wreck, she at first ques- 
 tioned whether it was indifference, stupefaction, or 
 religion. It could not be the first, for she was as 
 sure of her love, as she was sure of her existence ; 
 nor the second, for she reasoned, reflected, and anti- 
 cipated; it must therefore, she said, be the last; it 
 must be faith laying hold of the promise, and staying 
 itself in darkness upon the name of God. It must be 
 
44 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 the power of God perfecting its might in weakness 
 the flowing in of grace into a soul, which grace has 
 first made willing and able to receive it. How won- 
 drous must the faith of Abraham have appeared to 
 himself, when he came to reflect on what he had 
 done, or rather what the grace of God had wrought 
 in him, in his willingness to offer up Isaac. Inferior 
 to this, of course, but analogous to it, has been the 
 surprise of many an afflicted widow at the submis- 
 sion and confidence with which she laid the ashes of 
 her husband in the sepulchre. What else could have 
 so sustained her, bereft as she was of what gave to 
 earth its chief interest ? Let that religion still support 
 you. What it has done, it can do. It has proved to 
 you its reality and its power: still trust it as the 
 anchor of your soul, sure and stedfast. If it prevented 
 you from sinking, when the shock came first upon 
 you, it can do the same through every future stage of 
 your solitary journeying, and every future scene of 
 your now unshared sorrow. 
 
 But perhaps your present situation demonstrates 
 the excellency of religion, by another medium of 
 proof, I mean by the want of it. You have not 
 religion to support you, and you have therefore lite- 
 rally nothing. The storm has come, and you are 
 without a shelter. The cup of wormwood and gall 
 is put into your hand, and you have nothing with 
 whicli to sweeten it. Well then now, when every 
 thing else fails, turn to this one and only refuge that 
 remains. It opens to you now. You feel that noth- 
 
INSTRUCTION. 45 
 
 ing else is of any avail. It is not too late. God 
 waits to be gracious. Oh let me now sound in your 
 ears the music of our Lord's comfortable words, 
 " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest.' Oh mark that, the 
 heavy laden. No matter what may be the burden, 
 whether of sin, or of care, or of sorrow, there is res I 
 irom it in Christ. If you look to him by faith to take 
 away the burden of your sin, he will lighten every 
 other load that presses upon your spirit. Jesus 
 Christ, the Saviour of the lost, is the comforter of the 
 distressed. He meets the natural cry of misery, and 
 goes out to wipe away the tears of sorrow, by the 
 hand of his redeeming mercy. He came to bind up 
 the broken-hearted, and to comfort those that mourn : 
 but it is in his own way. Many have come to him, 
 led as it seemed by the mere instinctive longing after 
 happiness, and have tried faith in the gospel as a last 
 and almost hopeless experiment, after the failure of 
 every other attempt to obtain consolation. And oh ! 
 what an unlocked for discovery have they made; 
 they who had found no resting place in the world, 
 and who had wandered through it in quest of some 
 object however insignificant, that might divert them 
 from their sorrows, and for a moment at least remove 
 the sense of that hopeless grief which lay dead upon 
 the heart, found now an object which the widest 
 desires of their soul could not grasp, and of such 
 irresistible power as to turn the current of their feel- 
 ings, I mean the salvation which is in Christ Jesus, 
 
46 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 with eternal glory. They who had been ready to 
 abandon life, as having no charm, and to embrace 
 death as having no greater terror than their preseni 
 affliction, now see that even in the absence of that 
 which once threw over their existence its deepest 
 interest, they can find something worth living for, in 
 the pursuit of an eternal joy. While in sorrow and 
 in desolation they went to Jesus for comfort, the 
 Spirit, whose secret, but unknown influence guided 
 their steps, opened the eyes of their understanding to 
 discern the path of life, and by the aid of a hope full 
 of immortality, to rise above the ravages of death, and 
 the spoliations of the grave. Thus while like Mary 
 Magdalene, they were lingering round the sepulchre, 
 the Saviour revealed himself to them, and they dried 
 up their tears in the presence of their Lord. May it 
 be so with those who shall read these pages. May 
 you in your affliction turn to religion, that grand 
 catholicon, and panacea, for the sorrows of life. You 
 do not know, even yet, how much you will need it, 
 in the future stages of your sad and solitary journey. 
 The friends whom the freshness of your grief has 
 gathered round you, may forget your loss much 
 sooner than you will ; and the force of their sympathy 
 may have spent itself, long before the tide of your 
 grief has ceased to flow. Few, very few, are the 
 faithful friends whose tender interest is as long lived 
 and as deep as our tribulation. Sympathy wears out 
 long before that which calls it into existence: and 
 then, what can comfort you but religion? Venture 
 
INSTRUCTION 47 
 
 not forward, without decided and fervent piety. Let 
 your next step be from the tomb of a husband, to the 
 cross of a Saviour. 
 
 Take the following instance as at once a direction 
 and an encouragement : 
 
 In the course of my pastoral walks among my 
 flock, I one day called upon a young widow, who 
 has become a member of the church under my care 
 since the death of her husband. I found her at her 
 mangle, by which, and by letting a room or two to 
 lodgers, she earns a scanty and precarious support 
 for herself and child. I found her somewhat indis- 
 posed, exhausted by labor, and depressed, though 
 not desponding, in consequence of her lodgings being 
 unoccupied, and her work rather short. I entered 
 into conversation with her on her necessitous and 
 afflictive circumstances, when she expressed her 
 strong confidence in God, and her expectation she 
 should be provided for. She soon reverted to her 
 husband, who had been a consistent member of my 
 flock. Her eulogy upon his memory was in strong 
 and tender language. She described him as having 
 been one of the kindest and most indulgent of hus- 
 bands, and implied that she had of course been a 
 happy wife : " But," said she, "lean thank the Lord 
 for his death, for in consequence of that sad event, I 
 now hope to be associated with him, in the presence of 
 Christ in heaven." The fact is, the death of her 
 husband was the painful means, in the hands of the 
 Spirit, of her saving conversion to God In this you 
 
48 
 
 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 see one instance among many in which widowhood 
 has been the furnace of affliction, where God has 
 chosen some of his people, and called them to pass 
 through the fiery trial to bring them to himself. 
 The female whose case I am now narrating, by the 
 piety she then obtained, and by the sweet hope of 
 meeting her deceased husband in the land where 
 there shall be no more death, endures with a sorrow- 
 ful cheerfulness the desolation of widowhood and the 
 rigours of poverty. 
 
 What lessons does this little incident teach ! What 
 a potency and a heavenly balm are there in true re- 
 ligion; what present and what future advantages 
 does it yield, when it can enable a poor widow, to 
 bow with her fatherless child at the grave of her de- 
 parted husband, or in the dreary abode once made 
 happy by his presence and his love, and give God 
 thanks for his removal, because of the eternal felicity 
 that would result to both in heaven, from their early 
 separation upon earth ! What an admonition to 
 those who like this poor woman have lost pious 
 husbands, while they themselves are not yet par- 
 takers of true experimental piety. Let them con- 
 sider the reasoning which is implied in her gratitude, 
 " Had my husband lived, I should have been con- 
 tent with my happiness as a wife, and have sought 
 none from a higher source, and perhaps have lived 
 and died a stranger to true religion. Thus after en- 
 joying liis society a few years upon earth, I should 
 have been banished not only from his company but 
 
INSTRUCTION. 49 
 
 from the presence of the Lord for ever: but now 
 since his death was sanctified for my conversion to 
 God, I have lost him for a season, to be with him for 
 ever in glory." widow, whose husband has left 
 you as did hers, in an unconverted state, let it be 
 your desire, your prayer, your resolution to turn this 
 deep affliction to your soul's advantage. You have 
 lost his life ; lose not only his death. He bends to 
 you from the skies, and with accents of faithful love, 
 says to you, " Follow me to heaven. Let us be not 
 separated for ever. Let faith, prayer, and sub- 
 mission, heal the wound of separation. let us 
 meet in the blessed world of life and joy." Comply 
 with the admonition, and then you too will be able 
 to comprehend the thanksgiving of this poor woman 
 for the decease of a loving husband. 
 
 And now take the testimony of another widow 
 who related in the following language her sad, yet in 
 another view of it, her happy experience, to a minis- 
 ter who visited her : 
 
 " My husband died, and then disease seized on my 
 children, and they were taken one by one. In the 
 course of a few years, I had lain those in whom my 
 heart was bound up, in the grave. Oh ! they were 
 many, many bitter tears that I shed. The world 
 was dark. The very voice of consolation was a pain. 
 I could sit by the side of my friend, but could not 
 hear him speak of my departed ones. My affliction 
 was too deep to be shared. It seemed as if God 
 himself had deserted me. I was alone. The places 
 5 
 
50 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 at the table and the fire-side remained but they 
 who filled them were gone. Oh the loneliness, as 11 
 had been a tomb, of my chamber. How blessed was 
 sleep ! For then the dead lived again. They were 
 all around me. My youngest child and last, sat on 
 my knee she leaped up in my arms, she uttered 
 my name with infant joyousness; and that sweet 
 tone was as if an angel had spoken to my sad soul. 
 But the dream vanished, and the dreary morning 
 broke, and I waked, and prayed, and I sought forgive- 
 ness, even while I uttered it for my unholy prayer 
 prayed that God would let me lie down in the grave 
 side by side with my children and husband. 
 
 "But better thoughts came. In my grief I re- 
 membered that though my loved ones were separated 
 from me, the same Father the same Infinite Love, 
 watched over them as when they were by my fire- 
 side. We were divided, but only for a season. And 
 by degrees, my grief grew calmer. But since then, 
 my thoughts have been more in that world, where 
 they have gone, than in this. I do not remember 
 less, but I look forward and upward more. I learn- 
 ed the Avorth of prayer and reliance. Would that I 
 could express to every mourner how the sting is 
 taken away from the grief of one, who with a true 
 and full heart puts her trust in God. I can never 
 again go into the gay world. The pleasures of this 
 world are no longer pleasures to me. But I have 
 trust, and hope, and confidence. I know that my 
 Redeemer liveth. I know that God ever watches 
 
INSTRUCTION. 51 
 
 over his children And in my desolation, this faith 
 of heart has long enabled me to feel a different kind 
 of pleasure indeed, but a far deeper, though more 
 sober joy, than the pleasures of this world ever gave 
 me even when youth, and health, and friends all con- 
 spired to give them their keenest relish. 
 
 "'You have learned in your own heart,' I said, 
 * that all trials are not evils.' 
 
 " It was with eyes up-turned to heaven, and gush- 
 ing over with tears, not tears of sorrow, but grati- 
 tude, and with a radiant countenance, that she an- 
 swered, in a tone so mild, so wrapt, as if her heart 
 were speaking to her God, ' It has been good for 
 me that I have been afflicted.' " 
 
 4. What an impressive view does your affliction 
 give you of the solemnity of death, and the necessity 
 of being prepared for it. You have now not only 
 heard of the awful visitor, or read of him, but you 
 have seen him: and though his icy hand has not 
 been laid on you, it has taken from your side the 
 companion of your life. It is not a book, a sermon, 
 a preacher, but death himself that has spoken to you, 
 who, as he bore away the dear object of your affec- 
 tion, looked back unpityingly, and sternly said, "I 
 come for you soon." He will. Listen also to the 
 voice of one who with milder accents than those of 
 the last enemy, says to you, " Be ye also ready, for 
 at such an hour as ye think not, the Son of Man 
 cometh." Can you ever forget the scene? The 
 dread reality? The harbingers, the concomitants, 
 
52 INSTRUCTION. 
 
 the consequences of dissolution? The pain, the 
 sickness, the restlessness, the delirium, the torpor 
 and then the mortal stillness which ten thou- 
 sand thunders could not disturb? Oh what a change 
 is death ! Is that the time, that the scene, those the 
 circumstances, to which it is wise and safe to defer 
 the business of religion, the concerns of the soul, the 
 pursuit of salvation ? You saw how all but insup- 
 portable were the last woes of expiring nature ; or 
 how sudden was the stroke ; or how shattered was 
 the reason ; and how impossible it was then to medi- 
 tate on matters which require the concentrated at- 
 tention, the calm undisturbed possession of all the 
 faculties of the soul. Learn then a lesson from that 
 scene never to be forgotten, and instantly to be prac- 
 ticed, of being prepared at once, and completely, for 
 the great change. You saw how valueless in death 
 is every thing but salvation, and how all but im- 
 possible it is to commence the momentous concern 
 then. Be wise then, and consider your own latter 
 end. Preparation for death is living work. A life 
 of faith, holiness, and devotion is the only prepara- 
 tion for a death-bed. Be this one of the beneficial 
 results of losing an object so dear. On his tomb, 
 devote yourself to the pursuit of salvation, as the 
 business of life, and the only suitable meetness for 
 death. 
 
 It is said with equal power and beauty by a well 
 known and deservedly admired living writer, " I con- 
 sider the scene of death, as being to the interested 
 
INSTRUCTION. 53 
 
 parties, who witness it, a kind of sacrament, incon- 
 ceivably solemn, at which they are summoned by 
 the voice of heaven to pledge themselves in vows of 
 irreversible decision. Here then, as at the high altar 
 of eternity, you have been called to pronounce, if I 
 may so express it, the inviolable oath, to keep for 
 ever in view, the momentous value of life, and to aim 
 at its worthiest use, its sublime end to spurn, with 
 lasting disdain, those foolish trifles, those frivolous 
 vanities, which so generally wither in our sight, and 
 consume life as the locusts did Egypt ; and to devote 
 yourself with the ardour of passion, to attain the 
 most divine improvement of the human soul ; and in 
 short, to hold yourself in preparation to make that 
 interesting transition to another life, whenever you 
 shall be claimed by the Lord of the world." 
 5* 
 
54 CONSOLATION. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CONSOLATION. 
 
 YES ! consolation. Yours, even yours is not a case 
 that excludes all comfort. There is balm for the 
 wounds of a widow's heart. 
 
 1. It may seem a strange and unlikely method of 
 comforting you, to remind you of happiness Tor ever 
 led, and scenes of enjoyment that have vanished like 
 some bright vision; but is it not a comfort to retrace 
 the history of your union, and to remember that you 
 loved and were beloved ; that you lived in harmony 
 and peace with your departed husband ; that you had 
 his confidence and his heart, and he yours ; that you 
 travelled pleasantly together in this desert world, and 
 made the journey a delightful one while it lasted ? 
 You have nothing but holy and happy reminiscences. 
 Is not this better than the retrospect of an ill-assorted 
 match, and the scenes of discord and strife which 
 such unions bring with them ? His picture, his chair, 
 his dear name, if they form the most sorrowful, yet, 
 at the same time, do they awaken the most sacred 
 associations. His image, as it rises in the region of 
 imagination, is no sullen spectre, cold, frowning, and 
 
CONSOLATION. 55 
 
 perturbed, and that looks upon you as if to upbraid 
 you for the past ; but it is a blessed shade> smiling, 
 complacent, and calm, that still beams with the same 
 affection with which it was wont to do : and you feel 
 as if you had nothing to offer in the way of apology 
 or atonement, for the purpose of propitiating and 
 tranquillizing it. You still feel in mysterious and 
 happy fellowship, though separated by the wide deep 
 gulph of the grave. Extract comfort, then, from your 
 very tears, for love has left a drop even in them. You 
 were happy, and that should prevent you being 
 wretched now: you were his comfort on earth, and 
 assisted him on his pilgrimage to heaven; where, 
 perhaps, he is now thinking of you before the throne, 
 and finding a place for your name in the song of his 
 gratitude before the fountain of mercy. 
 
 2. Perhaps you were permitted to be with him in 
 his mortal sickness, and to minister to his comfort, as 
 long as he needed it and was capable of understand- 
 ing your ministrations. " I am glad I am not a king," 
 said a dying husband to an affectionate and devoted 
 wife, who never left him night or day, till his spirit 
 forsook its clay: " for then," continued he, " I should 
 not be waited upon by you." How tender and how 
 soothing are the attentions of a wife at all times; but 
 oh what are they not in the chamber of sickness and 
 death. Men who set little value on the kind offices 
 of their wifes in the time of health and activity, have 
 been glad to have them at their bed-side, in the sea- 
 son of disease, and at the last hour : but how doubly 
 
56 CONSOLATION. 
 
 precious are such offices in death, to those who loved 
 their wives, and prized their attentions in life. Such, 
 afflicted woman, was, perhaps, your case. You were 
 his constant attendant. You waited, watched and 
 laboured, to the uttermost of your strength, to smooth 
 the pillow of sickness, and the bed of death. The 
 food, and the medicine were always most welcome 
 from your gentle hand ; he forgot his pains in your 
 presence ; and it was some mitigation of her sorrows, 
 while as his ministering angel you occupied the post 
 of observation, darker every hour, that you saw how 
 much you contributed to his comfort. You heard the 
 words of love and gratitude that fell from the suffer- 
 er's lips ; you saw the looks and tears which spoke 
 what words were too weak to utter ; and taxed your 
 energies almost boyond what nature could supply, to 
 meet the necessities of one whose flickering lamp 
 seemed to be kept from extinction, by your vigilance 
 and tenderness. 
 
 Well, it is all over now* Affection has done its 
 last, as well as its best, and its uttermost. Is it not 
 consoling to you to think of all this ? Especially if 
 you were enabled to minister to the comfort of the 
 soul, as well as to the body, and by words of scripture 
 promise, to drive away the gloomy thoughts and 
 disturbing fears which lighted upon his spirit as he 
 approached the dark valley. Perhaps it was reserved 
 for that solemn hour, for your dying husband to 
 disclose to you the state of his soul, and to express to 
 Vour more entire satisfaction, than you had felt before, 
 
CONSOLATION. 57 
 
 his sense of sin, his faith in Christ, and his hope of 
 glory. How beautifully is this described in the life 
 of Mrs. Graham, of New York. " He brought me, 
 and my idol," says that excellent woman, "out of a 
 barren land, placed us under the breath of prayer, 
 among a dear little society of methodists ; he laid us 
 upon their spirits, and when the messenger, death, 
 was sent for my beloved, the breath of prayer ascend- 
 ed from his bedside, from their little meeting ; and I 
 believe from their families and closets. The God of 
 mercy prepared their hearts to pray, and his ear to 
 hear, and the answers did not tarry. Behold, my 
 hnsband prayeth ; confesses sin ; applies to the 
 Saviour ; pleads for forgiveness for his sake ; receives 
 comfort ; blesses God for Jesus Christ, and dies with 
 these words upon his tongue, 'I hold fast by the 
 Saviour.' Behold another wonder ! the idolatress in 
 an ecstasy of joy. She who never could realise a 
 separation for one single minute during his life, now 
 resigns her heart's treasure, with praise and thanks- 
 giving. the joy of that hour ! its savour remains 
 in my heart to this moment. For five days and 
 nights, I had been little off my knees, it was my 
 ordinary posture at his bed-side, and in all that time, 
 I had but once requested his life. The Spirit helped 
 my infirmities with groanings that could not be 
 uttered, leading me to pray for that which God had 
 determined to bestow; making intercession for my 
 husband according to the will of God.'" 
 3. And this is intimately connected with another 
 
58 CONSOLATION. 
 
 source of consolation, I mean the consideration of the 
 happiness of your departed sainted husband, where 
 indeed there is satisfactory ground to believe he died 
 in the Lord. " How does the reflection," says Mrs. 
 Huntingdon, after she became a widow, " that our 
 departed friends have reached the point which we 
 must reach before we can be happy, sweeten and 
 soothe the anguish of separation ! Let us contemplate 
 them in every supposable view, and the prospect is 
 full of consolation. We cannot think of them as 
 what they were, or what they are, without pleasure. 
 They are the highly favoured of the Lord, who, 
 having finished all that they had to do in this vale of 
 tears, are admitted to the higher services of the upper 
 temple. True, when we look at our loss, nature will 
 feel." Be it so, tha* you are sorrowful, it is not, as 
 regards your husband, a sorrow without hope. You 
 have no grief on his account. Time was when you 
 wept for him: you saw him hardened with care; 
 exhausted by labour; perplexed with difficulties; 
 sometimes humbled by a sense of his imperfections ; 
 and in his closing scenes, pale with sickness, racked 
 with pain, till the tears glistened in his eye, and the 
 groan escaped his breast ; but he will suffer no more ; 
 the days of his mourning are ended ; and he is floating 
 on a fullness of joy in God's presence, and surrounded 
 with pleasures for evermore at his right hand. Strive 
 then so far to rise above your grief, as to rejoice with 
 him, though he cannot weep with you. You loyed, 
 and tried to make him I appy upon earth, and smiled 
 
CONSOLATION. 59 
 
 when you in any measure succeedec, take some 
 comfort in the thought that God has made him happy 
 in heaven. Think jf him not as in the grave, but as 
 in glory. Say in the language of that beautiful 
 epitaph, 
 
 Forgive, blest shade ! the tributary tear, 
 
 That mourns thy exit from a world like this, 
 
 Forgive the wish, that would have kept thee here, 
 Aud stayed thy progress to the seats of bliss. 
 
 No more confin'd to grovelling scenes of night, 
 
 No more a tenant pent in mortal clay, 
 Now should we rather hail thy glorious flight, 
 
 And trace thy journey to the realms of day. 
 
 But perhaps, in all this, I do but lacerate some 
 widows' heart already wounded, by the fear, their 
 husbands' spirits are not in heaven. Then turn from 
 the subject in deep and silent submission. Confide 
 in the equity of God. Rely upon his unerring wisdom. 
 If you cannot reflect with comfort, and hope, endeav- 
 our not to reflect at all. Say, " shall not the judge 
 of all the earth do right ?" If this source of consola- 
 tion be closed, turn to the others, and they are many. 
 
 4. Recollect that God lives. " He lives, said the 
 Psalmist, " and blessed be my rock, and let the God 
 of my salvation be exalted." God lives ! What a 
 compass of thought and of consolation is there in that 
 one expression; and akin to it is the language of 
 Christ, to the beloved apostle in the isle of Patmos, 
 "Behold, I am alive for evermore." Die who will, 
 Christ lives. How often is he called in scripture, 
 
60 CONSOLATION. 
 
 u the living God ;" it is one of his most frequently 
 repeated titles; and dwelling as we do, amidst the 
 tombs, it is one of his most comforting, as well as 
 one of his most sublime and impressive ones, espe- 
 cially to those who have been called to sustain the 
 loss of friends by death. Thus we find there is a title, 
 and attribute, and view, and operation of God, suited 
 to all the varieties of our circumstances, our wants, 
 our woes, and our fears. There is bounty for our 
 wants ; mercy for our sins and miseries ; patience for 
 our provocations ; power for our weakness ; truth for 
 our fears; wisdom for our ignorance; immutability 
 for our vicissitudes; and because our friends are 
 dying, and we also are following them to the grave, 
 he is presented to us as the living God. And as he 
 lives, all that belongs to him lives with him. His 
 attributes neither change nor die. Just look at one 
 view of his nature and conduct as given by the apos- 
 tle : " The God of all comfort:' 2 Cor. i. 3." Beau- 
 tiful representation ! And akin to it is that other, 
 " God that comforteth those that are cast down." 
 2 Cor. vii. 7. What ideas are contained in these two 
 aspects of God. They seem to tell us that not only 
 is all comfort in him, and from him, and for all peo- 
 ple who are willing to be comforted ; not only that 
 his consolations are such as by way of eminence and 
 excellence, deserve to be called comfort, almost 
 exclusively; but also that he is in his nature all 
 comfort to his people, and in his dealings always 
 comforting them. His nature is one vast fountain of 
 
CONSOLATION. 61 
 
 consolation, and his operations, so many streams 
 flowing from it. Now this God lives ; lives to com- 
 fort you. Your earthly comforter is gone ; but your 
 heavenly one remains. Is there not enough in his 
 power to protect and support you ; in his wisdom to 
 guide you; in his all sufficiency to provide for you; 
 in his goodness to pity you ; in his love to supply 
 you ; in his presence to cheer you ? In your troubled 
 and broken condition of mind, you need subjects oi 
 consolation which are not only sufficient in them- 
 selves, but which can be simply expressed and easily 
 apprehended, without any long train of thought, or 
 elaboration of argument. Here then is one, contain- 
 ing all comforts in one, " God lives." Seize the sim- 
 ple yet wondrous conception ; take it home to your 
 afflicted bosom ; apply it to your forlorn and desolate 
 spirit ; repeat it to yourself; and by the power of it 
 drive away unbelief, distrust, and all the crowd of 
 dark, desponding thoughts, which hover like foul 
 birds of night over the desolate heart, there to nestle, 
 and utter their moaning voices. Learn from a little 
 child who seeing her widowed mother in weeds and 
 in tears, asked the question, " Is God Almighty dead, 
 mamma ?" 
 
 5. The Lord Jesus Christ in all his mediatorial 
 offices, all his redeeming grace, all his tender sym- 
 pathy, and all the blessings of his salvation, still re- 
 mains. " Fear not," said he to John, in language al- 
 ready quoted, " I am the first and the last. I am he 
 that liveth, and was dead; and behold I am alive 
 6 
 
62 CONSOLATION. 
 
 for evermore, and have the keys of hell, (the unseen 
 world) and of death." Rev. i. 19. Oh there is 
 enough in these sublime words to support and com- 
 fort all the widows that are at this moment, or ever 
 will be upon earth. Here they are not only told, 
 that the Redeemer has exclusive dominion over death 
 and the invisible world, so that none ever turns, or 
 holds the key but himself, but also that he lives in 
 all the plenitude of his power and grace to comfort 
 those who survive. All that there is in the incar- 
 nation and death of Christ as the Saviour of a lost 
 and ruined world ; in his resurrection from the grave ; 
 in his ascension into heaven, and intercession at the 
 right hand of the Father; in his universal govern- 
 ment of the world ; in the promise, the purpose, and 
 the hope of his second coming; in the assurance that 
 he is now in the midst of his church, and will never 
 leave it; in the distant prospect of the millennial days 
 when his glory shall cover all lands ; all this re- 
 mains to console the hearts of his mourning people 
 in their sorrows upon earth, and connected with all 
 this, are the blessings that result from his media- 
 torial work, the pardon of all our sins, the justifica- 
 tion of our persons, the sanctification of our nature, 
 adoption, perseverance ; in short a perfect salvation. 
 And is there one who can think so little of these 
 things as to find in them no adequate consolation in 
 the hour and scene of her woe ! Oh believer, is 
 there not enough in all this> to save you from faint- 
 ing? Bereaved woman, shall your sorrows at the 
 
CONSOLATION. 63 
 
 grave of the most affectionate husband that a wife 
 ever had, or ever lost, weigh down the cross, the 
 atonement, the righteousness, the sympathy, the 
 grace of Christ? He is still the same as to com- 
 passion, as he was when upon earth. Those eyes 
 that wept at the grave of Lazurus, look on you ; 
 that bosom that groaned over the sorrows of Martha 
 and Mary, cherishes you. He that pitied the widow 
 ofNain, pities you. "In all your affliction, he is 
 afflicted, and the angel of his presence is with you.'* 
 In all his unsearchable riches of grace, in his promises 
 of truth, and in his invitations he is with you, and 
 has said, " I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. 
 Not a promise died, when your husband did ; not a 
 fruit of grace, or an earnest of glory whithered when 
 he departed. Not a single gospel consolation lies 
 entombed in his sepulchre. The cup of your earthly 
 prosperity may be emptied, but not a drop is lost 
 from the cup of salvation. Death has deprived you 
 of your temporal enjoyment, but your eternal sal- 
 vation in Christ still remains. You are called to 
 bear your cross, but look up, there is Christ bearing, 
 and borne by, his also. In one sense your husband 
 sleeps in the tomb of Jesus ; for we " are dead and 
 buried with him." Wherefore comfort yourself with 
 these thoughts. 
 
 5. God has in a most especial manner interested him- 
 self on behalf of widows, and their fatherless children. 
 
 Just see how he has literally crowded the page of 
 inspiration, with declarations concerning them. He 
 
64 CONSOLATION. 
 
 has revealed himself in a very especial manner as 
 the widow's God. 
 
 Observe how he has fenced in their interests and 
 protected them from injury. " Ye shall not afflict 
 any widow or fatherelss child." Exod. xxh. 22. 
 " Thou shalt not take the widow's garment to 
 pledge." Deut. xxiv. 17. " Cursed be he that per- 
 verteth the judgment of the fatherless and the widow." 
 Deut. xxix. 19. "Judge the fatherless, plead for 
 the widow." Isaiah i. 17. " If ye oppress the father- 
 less and the widow, then will I cause you to dwell 
 in this place." Jer. iii. 6. " Oppress not the widow, 
 nor the fatherless." Zech. vii. 10. "In this have 
 they vexed the widow." Ezek. xxii. 7. 
 
 Observe next the injunctions delivered not even to 
 neglect the widow. "And the fatherless and the 
 widow which are within thy gates, shall come, and 
 shall eat, and shall be satisfied, that the Lord thy 
 God may bless thee in ail the work of thy hand, that 
 thou doest." Deut. xiv. 29. "When thou hast 
 made an end of tithing all the tithes of thine increase 
 the third year, which is the year of tithing, and hast 
 given it unto the Levite, the stranger, the father- 
 less, and the widow, that they may eat within thy 
 gates, and be filled ; then thou shalt say before the 
 Lord thy God, I have brought away the hallowed 
 things out of mine house, and also have given them 
 onto the Levite, and unto the stranger, to the father- 
 ess, and to the widow, according to all the com- 
 mandments which thou hast commanded me : I have 
 
CONSOLATION. 65 
 
 not transgressed thy commandments, neither have I 
 forgotten them." I)eut. xxvi. 12, 13. 
 
 Then dwell upon those passages in which kind- 
 ness to widows is spoken of by men, or by God him- 
 self. " I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.' 1 
 Job xxvi. 13. In opposition to which he gives it 
 as the mark of the wicked ; " They drive away the 
 ass of the fatherless, and take the widow's ox for a 
 pledge." Job xxiv. 3. "The Lord will establish 
 the border of the widow." Prov. xv. 25. " A judge 
 of the fatherless and widows is God in his holy 
 habitation." Psalm Ixix. 5. " Leave thy fatherless 
 children, I will preserve them alive, and let thy 
 widows trust in me." Jer. xlix. 11. " Pure religion 
 and undefiled before God and the Father is this, to 
 visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction." 
 James i. 27. 
 
 "What widow is there who in casting her eye over 
 such passages as these, but must be comforted in 
 thus witnessing the deep interest God takes in her 
 forlorn condition, when he has not only promised her 
 what he will do himself, but commanded in every 
 variety of form and expression all others to sym- 
 pathise with her, and actually to befriend her. She 
 may surely say : 
 
 Poor though I am, despised, forgot, 
 Yet God, my God ! forsakes me not. 
 
 Whoever is passed over by Jehovah, the widow re- 
 ceives his special notice. 
 
 6 
 
66 CONSOLATION. 
 
 6. Perhaps you have still many friends left; foi 
 it is rarely the case that a widow has none, either 
 on her own side, or on that of her late husband. 
 There is something in your case that calls forth 
 sympathy. Your very dress with silent but ex- 
 pressive signs, seems to say, " My husband is in his 
 grave, pity me." Hearts not easily moved have re- 
 lented, and eyes unaccustomed to weep have shed 
 tears, at the recital of your loss. Low as human 
 nature has sunk by our apostacy from God, it has 
 not lost all that is kind and amiable towards our 
 fellow-creatures, and in the exercise of this kind- 
 ness, many are predisposed to be the friends of the 
 widow. Do not refuse their friendship. Open your 
 hearts and let them pour in the balm of sympathy. 
 Do not discourage them in their efforts to interest 
 or please, nor undervalue them. The sun of your 
 bright day has set, and it is night: but do not 
 despise the lunar beams, nor even the twinkling of 
 a few scattered stars : even this is better than ray- 
 less gloom. Some, I admit there are, who in losing 
 husband, lose almost every friend they have on 
 earth. Let them think of the friend, who is all 
 friends in one, I mean, the widow's God. 
 
 7. Is there not upon record such an assurance as 
 this, " All things work together for good to them that 
 love God, to them that are the called according to 
 his promise." Rom. viii. 28. The consolation I 
 know is limited to a particular class of persons, " to 
 them that love God and are called according to his 
 
CONSOLATION. 67 
 
 purpose," and none have a right to appropriate the 
 the comfort, but they who answer to the character. 
 To none else can good come out of evil : for none else 
 is God preparing a happy result of all their troubles ; 
 for none else are his mighty and glorious attributes 
 of wisdom and power weaving the dark threads of 
 their history into a texture of felicity, and a garment 
 of praise. But then all are invited, and may instantly 
 accept the invitation, to come within the comprehen- 
 sion of this circle of good, by coming through faith 
 into the love of God. To those who are already 
 there, how inexpressibly consoling, if they have faith 
 to receive it, is the assurance, that there is good to 
 be extracted for the widow, from her tears. Observe 
 it is good, not ease : concealed, not apparent good ; 
 future, not present good. What an illustration of 
 this passage of scripture is the history of the patriarch 
 Joseph. Sorrow upon sorrow settled on the heart of 
 his venerable father, as one bad report of his children 
 after another fell upon his ear, till in the agony of 
 his spirit he exclaimed, " All these things are against 
 me." And judging by appearances, he was right. 
 Appearances, however were fallacious. Jacob could 
 not see to the end, and he who cannot, should not 
 pronounce what the end will be. All things were at 
 die time working together for good, though it was 
 impossible for him to conjecture in what way. Equally 
 impossible is it for you to see, or even to imagine, nor 
 do I pretend to foretel, in what way good can rise to 
 you from a husband's grave. All your brightest 
 
68 CONSOLATION. 
 
 prospects have vanished ; all your springs of earthly 
 consolation are dried up ; your support and that of 
 your children, is cut off; in such an event, reason can 
 see nothing but unmixed evil for the present, and 
 portents of woe for the future ; and it really seems 
 like a mockery of your woe to tell you, it will work 
 for your good. But is it not promised ? If so, it must 
 be fulfilled, though in a way unknown to us. Sup- 
 pose any one had gone to the venerable patriarch 
 when he was weeping, first for Joseph, and then for 
 Benjamin, and uttered this astonishing language in 
 his hearing, " All is working for your good ;" would 
 he not have looked up, and with a reproving voice, 
 said, " Do you come to mock me ?" Yet he lived to 
 see that it was so. If God says it is good, it must be 
 so, for he can make it good. It may not be good for 
 your temporal comfort, but it may be for your eternal 
 welfare; and if not for yours, it may be for your 
 children's; if not for theirs, it may have been for your 
 husband's. You may never see how it is for good in 
 this world. Many go all their lives without having 
 the mystic characters of the event decyphered, and 
 the secret workings of God's love laid open; they die 
 in ignorance of his plans, though not of his purposes. 
 So it may be with you. The right side of the em- 
 broidery may never be turned to you here, and look- 
 ing only at the tangled threads and dark colours of 
 the back part, all now appears confusion ; but when 
 the front view shall be seen, and the design of the 
 divine artist, and all the connexions of the piece shall 
 
CONSOLATION. G9 
 
 be pointed out, and the colouring shall be shown in 
 the light of heaven, with what adoring wonder, 
 delight, and gratitude will you exclaim, as the whole 
 bursts upon your sight, " the depth of the riches of 
 the wisdom and knowledge of God ! How unsearch- 
 able are his judgments, and his ways past finding out. 
 All things have worked together for my good." 
 
 8. Recollect the admonition of the apostle ; " This 
 I say, brethren, the time is short : it remaineth, that 
 both they that have wives, be as though they had 
 none; and they that weep, as though they wept not 
 and they that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; 
 and they that use the world, as not abusing it ; for 
 the fashion of this world passeth away." 1 Cor. vii. 
 29-31. Time is short. Solemn expression! The 
 death of the worldling's joy ; but the solace of the 
 Christian's sorrows. WidoAV, you cannot weep long, 
 even though you go weeping to your grave. The 
 days of your mourning are numbered, and must end 
 soon. The vale of tears is not interminable. You 
 are passing through it ; and will soon pass out of it. 
 Be patient, the coming of the Lord draweth nigh. 
 Eternity is at hand, through the everlasting ages of 
 which you will weep no more, for God shall wipe 
 away all tears from the eyes of his people. In hell 
 sinners weep for ever ; in heaven saints never weep. 
 
 9. And then what felicity awaits you on that 
 blessed shore, on which your departed husband 
 stands looking back wonderingly on the dark waters 
 of the river he has passed, and beckoning you away 
 
70 CONSOLATION. 
 
 to the realms of immortality. You will soon follow 
 to the regions of which it is said, " there will be no 
 more death." Heaven is a world of life, eternal life, 
 never to be interrupted by the entrance, or even the 
 fear of death; and this is before you. They who are 
 united by the bonds of Christian, as well as conjugal 
 love, do not lose one another in the dark valley never 
 to meet in the world of immortals. They drop the 
 fleshly bond in the grave, and all that appertained to 
 it, but not the spiritual tie that makes them one in 
 Christ. United in the honors and felicities of that 
 blessed world, where all are blessed perfectly, and 
 for ever, you shall receive together the answer of 
 those prayers you presented upon earth ; realise the 
 anticipations you indulged while travelling across the 
 desert of mortality; trace together the providential 
 events of your earthly history ; learn why you were 
 united, and Avhy separated; see the wisdom and 
 goodness of those events, which once appeared so 
 dark, and drew so many tears from your eyes ; indulge 
 in reminiscences, all of which will furnish new occa- 
 sions of wonder, new motives to praise, and new 
 sources of delight ; point one another to the vista of 
 everlasting ages opening before you, through which 
 an endless succession of joys are advancing to meet 
 you ; and then, filled with a pure, unearthly love for 
 each other, fall down before the throne of the Lamb, 
 and feel every other affection absorbed in supreme, 
 adoring love to him. Such a scene is before you; 
 and if it be, then bear your sorrows, afflicted woman, 
 
CONSOLATION. 71 
 
 for in what felicities are they to issue, and how 
 soon! 
 
 But, perhap j, I should help to comfort the mourner, 
 if, in addition to those gracious promises and direc- 
 tions which are specially appropriate to the case of 
 widows, and which have been already presented to 
 your notice, I lay before you a selection of passages 
 of scripture, which are applicable to all persons in 
 trouble. What words may be expected to have such 
 power over the sorrowful heart, as those of God. 
 Many of these have been already quoted, but there 
 may be an advantage in bringing them all together in 
 one view before the mind. 
 
 GOD'S END IN AFFLICTING. 
 
 For thou, oh God, hast proved us : thou hast tried 
 us, as silver is tried. Psalm Ixvi. 10. 
 
 Furthermore we have had fathers of our flesh 
 which corrected us, and we gave them reverence: 
 shall we not much rather be in subjection unto the 
 Father of spirits, and live ? For they verily for a few 
 days chastened us after their own pleasure ; but he 
 for our profit, that we might be partakers of his 
 holiness. Heb. xii. 9, 10. 
 
 GOD'S JUSTICE AND FAITHFULNESS IN OUR TRIALS. 
 
 Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with 
 thee. Jer. xii. 1. 
 
 He hath not dealt with us after our sins, nor re- 
 warded us according to our iniquities. Psalm ciii. 10. 
 
72 CONSOLATION. 
 
 It is of the Lord's mercies we are not consumed. 
 Lam. iii. 22. 
 
 Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for 
 the punishment of his sins ? Lam. iii. 39. 
 
 I will bear the indignation of the Lord, because I 
 have sinned against him. Micah vii. 9. 
 
 I know, O Lord, that in faithfulness thou hast 
 afflicted me. Psalm cxix. 75. 
 
 GOD'S LOVE IN AFFLICTING US. 
 
 My son, despise not thou the chastening of the 
 Lord ; neither be weary of his correction : for whom 
 the Lord loveth he correcteth, even as a father doth 
 the son, in whom he delighteth. Prov. iii. 11, 12. 
 
 For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and 
 scourge th every son whom he receiveth. Heb. 
 xii. 6. 
 
 As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. Rev. iii. 
 19. 
 
 GOD A COMFORTER. 
 
 The God of all comfort, who comforteth us in all 
 our tribulation. 2 Cor. i. 3. 
 
 God that comforteth those that are cast down. 2 
 Cor vii. 6. 
 
 GOD A REFUGE. 
 
 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help 
 in time of trouble. The Lord of Hosts is with us. the 
 God of Jacob is our refuge. Psalm xlvi. 1. 
 
CONSOLATION. 73 
 
 GOD'S PRESENCE WITH US IN THE DEEPEST TRIBULATION. 
 
 When thou passest through the waters I will be 
 With thee ; and through the rivers they shall not 
 overflow thee ; when thou walkest through the fire, 
 thou shalt not be burned, neither shall the flame 
 kindle upon thee. Isaiah xliii. 2. 
 
 GOD'S EYE UPON HIS PEOPLE IN SORROW. 
 
 He knoweth the way that I take, when he has 
 tried me I shall come forth as gold. Job xxiii. 10. 
 
 GOD CANNOT FORGET HIS PEOPLE. 
 
 Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she 
 should not have compassion on the son of her womb? 
 Yea, she may forget, yet will I not forget thee. 
 Isaiah xlix. 15. 
 
 TRUST IN GOD ENJOINED, ENCOURAGED, AND EXEMPLIFIED. 
 
 And they that know thy name, will put their trust 
 in thee, for thou hast not forsaken them that seek 
 thee. Psalm ix. 10. 
 
 And now Lord, what wait I for, my hope is in 
 thee. Psalm xxxix. 7. 
 
 Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind 
 is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee. Trust 
 ye in the Lord for ever; for in the Lord Jehovah is 
 everlasting strength. Isaiah xxvi. 3-4. 
 
 Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him. 
 Job xiii. 15. 
 
 7 
 
 
74 CONSOLATION. 
 
 CONSOLATORY ASSURANCES. 
 
 Affliction cometh not forth of the dust, neither 
 doth trouble spring out of the ground. Job v. 6. 
 
 They that seek the Lord shall not want any good 
 thing. Psalm xxxiv. 10. 
 
 Trust in the Lord and do good, so shalt thou 
 dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. 
 Psalm xxxvii. 3. 
 
 I have been young, and now am old, yet have I 
 not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging 
 bread. Psalm xxxvii. 25. 
 
 I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. Heb. 
 xiii. 5. 
 
 Therefore take no thought for the morrow; for 
 the morrow shall take thought for itself: sufficient 
 unto the day is the evil thereof. Mat. vi. 34. 
 
 In all their afflictions he is afflicted. Isaiah 
 Ixiii. 9. 
 
 In that he himself hath suffered, being tempted, 
 lie is able to succour them that are tempted. 
 Heb. ii. 18. 
 
 THE SHORT DURATION OF OUR TRIALS. 
 
 Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh 
 in the morning. Psalm xxx. 5. 
 
 They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. 
 Psalm cxxvi. 5. 
 
 Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a 
 

 CONSOLATION. 75 
 
 season, if need be, ye are in heaviness, through 
 manifold temptations. I Peter i. 6. 
 
 But this I say, the time is short let those that 
 weep be as though they wept not. 1 Cor. vii. 30. 
 
 The sufferings of this present time are not worthy 
 to be compared with the glory to be revealed in 
 us. Romans viii. 18. 
 
 Our light affliction which is but for a moment, 
 worketh out for us a far more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory. 2 Cor. iv. 17. 
 
 ENCOURAGEMENTS TO CAST OURSELVES AND OUR BURDENS 
 UPON THE LORD. 
 
 Call upon me in the day of trouble : I will deliver 
 thee, and thou shalt glorify me. Psalm 1. 15. 
 
 Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sus- 
 tain thee : he shall never suffer the righteous to be 
 moved. Psalm Iv. 22. 
 
 DIRECTIONS AND EXAMPLES HOW TO BEHAVE IN TROUBLE. 
 
 And Aaron held his peace. Lev. x. 3. 
 
 It is the Lord: let him do what seemeth him 
 good. 1 Sam. iii. 18. 
 
 In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God fool- 
 ishly. Job i. 22. 
 
 What ! shall we receive good at the hand of God, 
 and not receive evil ? Job ii. 10. 
 
 Surely it is meet to say unto God, I have borne 
 chastisement, I will not offend any more. Job 
 xxxiv. 3L 
 
76 CONSOLATION. 
 
 I was dumb, I opened not my mouth, because 
 Thou didst it. Psalm xxxix. 9. 
 
 Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from 
 me : nevertheless, not my will but thine be done. 
 Luke xxii. 42. 
 
 My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into 
 divers temptations. Let patience have her perfect 
 work. James i. 3, 4. 
 
 BENEFICIAL RESULT OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 It is good for me that I have been afflicted : be- 
 fore I was afflicted I went astray ; but now I have 
 kept thy word. Psalm cxix. 67, 71. 
 
 And I will bring the third part through the fire, 
 and will refine them as silver is refined, and will 
 try them as gold is tried ; they shall call on my 
 name, and I will hear them: I will say it is my 
 people : and they shall say, the Lord is my God. 
 Zech. xiii. 9. 
 
 "We glory in tribulation also ; knowing that tribu- 
 lation worketh patience, and patience, experience; 
 and experience, hope ; and hope maketh not asham- 
 ed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our 
 hearts, by the Holy Ghost which is given us. 
 Rom. v. 35. 
 
 END OF ALL OUR AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 There are they which came out of great tribu- 
 lation, and have washed their robes, and made them 
 
CONSOLATION. 77 
 
 white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are 
 they before they throne of God, and serve him day 
 and night in his temple : and he that sitteth on the 
 throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger 
 no more, .leither thirst any more ; neither shall the 
 sun light on them nor any heat. For the Lamb 
 that is in the midst of the throne, shall feed them, 
 and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters; 
 and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. 
 Rev. vii. 1417. 
 
 In thy presence is fullness of joy ; at thy right 
 hand are pleasures for evermore. Psalm xvi. 11. 
 
 Daughter of sorrow, these are the words of God : 
 and they are tried words. Millions now in glory, 
 and myriads more on the way to it, have tried them 
 in the dark hour of their affliction, and have found 
 them a cordial to their fainting spirits. " Unless 
 thy word had supported me," they have each said, 
 "I had perished in my affliction." That word did 
 support them, and though the torrent was roaring 
 and rushing furiously, kept them buoyant upon its 
 surface, when they otherwise must have sunk. A 
 single text has in some instances saved the despair- 
 ing soul from destruction. Read this selected list ; 
 what variety of representation, what kindness and 
 compassion of sentiment, what tenderness of lan- 
 guage, what beauty in the figures, what force in the 
 allusions, what appropriateness in the epithets, 
 what comprehension in the descriptions ! Whose 
 case is omitted? Whose circumstances are tin* 
 7* 
 
78 CONSOLATION. 
 
 touched ? Whose sorrows are unnoticed ? Re* 
 member, I say again, this is the consolation oi 
 God. It is Jehovah coming to you, and saying to 
 you, " Woman, why weepest thou ? Is not all this 
 enough to comfort you? Close not thine hear* 
 against such consolations as these. Be still, ana 
 know that I am God." 
 
CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 
 
 PERHAPS, as I have already supposed, in addition 
 to the deep affliction of your being left a widow, 
 you are left also in circumstances every way cal- 
 culated to aggravate this already heavy woe. To 
 lose your husband is of itself a cup of sorrow re- 
 quiring nothing to fill it to overflowing, and em- 
 bitter it with wormwood, except to have a young 
 dependent family, and no provision for their support, 
 or their settlement in the world. 0! for that wo- 
 man to be plunged into all the anxieties of business, 
 all the fear of destitution, who never knew a care, 
 or tasted of solicitude ; for such an one, unskilled in 
 trade, unused to labour, to have own maintenance 
 and that of her children to earn ! To sit day after 
 day, amidst her little fatherless circle, and witness 
 their unconsciousness of their loss; to hear them 
 ask why she weeps; to have her heart lacerated 
 by questions about their father ; to sit in silent soli- 
 tary grief when their voices are all hushed at night, 
 except that which issues from the cradle ; to be fol- 
 lowed to a sleepless pillow, and to be kept waking 
 
80 CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 
 
 through the live-long night, by recollections of de- 
 parted joys, and fears of future want ! Ah my 
 afflicted friend, I pity you. May God support and 
 comfort you. 
 
 Permit me to whisper in your ear, and direct to 
 your troubled spirit, the passage I have already 
 quoted, " LET THY WIDOWS TRUST IN ME ; for a 
 judge of the fatherless and the widow is God in 
 his holy habitation." Do consider who it is that says 
 this. It is the omnipotent, all-sufficient God. It is 
 he who has afflicted you, who says this. He au- 
 thorises, he invites, he enjoins your confidence. But 
 what do I mean by confidence? An expectation 
 that he will provide for you: an expectation, 
 which if it does not bring you to strong consolation, 
 is sufficient, at any rate, to controul the violence 
 of your grief, to check the hopelessness of your sor- 
 rows, and save you from despair: an expectation 
 which shall prevent all your energies from being 
 paralysed, and keep you from sitting down amidst 
 your little helpless family, and abandoning all for 
 lost; an expectation which leads you to say, "I do 
 not see how or whence help is to come, but I believe 
 it will come. I am utterly at a loss to conceive how 
 I shall be able to work my way, or provide for these 
 fatherless children, but God has encouraged me to 
 confide in him, and he is omnipotent. I know not 
 whence to look for friends, but the hearts of all 
 men are in his hands, and he can turn some to- 
 wards me in acts of kindness." This is confidence; 
 
CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 81 
 
 this is trust in God. Is it necessary for me here to 
 mention the grounds of trust ? They are at hand 
 in great number and force. 
 
 1. Dwell upon the innumerable exhortations to 
 this duty, as appertaining to all states of sorrow 
 and difficulty, which are to be found in the Word of 
 God. Scarcely one word occurs more frequently in 
 the Old Testament than the word, " TRUST ; nor one 
 in the New, more frequently than "FAITH," They 
 stand intimately related for indeed, if not identical 
 in meaning, they are nearly so. Trust in the God 
 of providence means faith in him; and faith in 
 Christ, means trust in him. How sweetly does 
 one sacred writer after another catch up the word 
 " TRUST," and roll it in innumerable echoes along the 
 whole line of revelation. How repeatedly does the 
 sound come from the lips of God himself " TRUST" 
 in me. How often do we hear the troubled and 
 destitute saint reply, " In thee do I put my trust." 
 How often do the inspired penmen, after disclosing 
 the glories of the divine character, and the infinite 
 attributes of Jehovah, finish their description by such 
 an admonition as this, " Put your trust in the Lord.' 
 Dwell on the power of God, and cannot he sustain 
 you and your children ? In casting yourselves on 
 his boundless sufficiency, his infinite and inexhausti- 
 ble resources, you do not obtrude or presume upon 
 him; he invites, yea, commands your confidence* 
 You do not lay down your burden on his arm un- 
 authorised; he stretches ait his arm and says, 
 
OS CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 
 
 "Roll thy burden here, and I will sustain it. He 
 asks, he promises to take care of you. Trust him 
 then. But you have nothing, you think, but his bare 
 promise. Not a friend to whom you can look ; not 
 an index to point out in what way even his assist- 
 ance is to come. Then you have the more need, 
 and I was almost going to add, more warrant to 
 trust him. Then is the time for faith in God's 
 word, when you have nothing to look for from man: 
 then is the time to trust in the promise, when you 
 have nothing else but the promise to trust to. It is 
 not possible to conceive of one act of the human 
 mind that more honours God, or more pleases him, 
 than that simple trust which is exercised in the ab- 
 sence of every thing else, as a ground of confidence, 
 but the word of God. A widow, with a little circle 
 of dependent children, with no present provision, 
 and no assured prospect of provision, who yet exer- 
 cises confidence in God, and believes she shall in 
 some way or other be taken care of, is in a state of 
 mind, certainly, as acceptable to God, as any in 
 which a human being can be found, and perhaps 
 even more so. 
 
 2. Meditate much upon the special promises and 
 gracious intimations which are made to your own 
 particular and afflictive case. Go over the passages 
 which I have already quoted: turn back to them 
 again : read them repeatedly, till you are enabled 
 to feel their full force. They are God's own words 
 to widows : the language of the divine infinite Com- 
 
CONFTDENCE IN GOD. 83 
 
 forter, to the most afflicted class in all the school of 
 sorrow ; and ought they not to be received as such, 
 with all the faith and trust that are due to an in- 
 fallible being? Can he have invited the widow's 
 saddened heart to words of consolation, only to mock 
 its sadness ? Can he have attracted her confidence 
 by language specially addressed to her, only to leave 
 her forsaken and abandoned? This would not be 
 human mercy, much less divine. Difficult, then, as 
 it may be, and must be, amidst broken cisterns, fail- 
 ing springs, exhausted resources, and with no pros- 
 pect, or even indication, big as a man's hand of the 
 coming blessing on the distant horizon, to trust in 
 God, endeavour, dejected woman, to do so. Like 
 Hagar in the wilderness, you may be near the de- 
 liverer, when you know it not. An invisible comfort- 
 er is near, and the provider may be coming, though 
 unseen. Trust, trust, and be not afraid. Endeav- 
 our to hush thy fears to rest, under the music arid the 
 charm of that one word, " Trust in the Lord, so shalt 
 thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed." 
 3. Another encouragement to trust, is the testi- 
 mony of those who have observed the ways of 
 Providence, and the care which it has exercised over 
 widows. It has grown into a kind of current adage, 
 " That whomsoever may seem to be overlooked by 
 Providence, God takes especial care of widows and 
 orphans." Who has not heard this expression, and 
 who has not seen its verification in instances that 
 have come under his own observation ? Who could 
 
84 CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 
 
 not mention the names of some whom he has seen 
 extraordinarily provided for in their necessitous and 
 seemingly helpless, hopeless widowhood? It has 
 so often been my lot to see this gracious interposition 
 of Providence, that I scarcely ever despond over the 
 case of a widow; and the more necessitous and 
 hopeless, so far as human succour is concerned, the 
 more confident do I feel of divine interference. 
 Thus true it is, that he who removes the arm of 
 flesh that sustained the wife, lends his own arm of 
 spirit and power to sustain the widow. " Your 
 maker is your husband," says the prophet ; an ex- 
 pression which represents Jehovah as taking under 
 his care all the widows in existence. 
 
 4. Perhaps your own experience may come in ad- 
 vantageously to encourage your confidence. You 
 have been supported hitherto. You sustained the 
 shock of separation, which, at one time, when an- 
 ticipated, you thought must crush your frame. You 
 have perhaps got through the first difficulties of 
 your afflicted condition : you have not been suffered 
 to sink hitherto. Remember God is the same yes- 
 terday, to-day, and for ever. He neither grows tired 
 of helping, nor unwilling to help. He that has 
 carried you through the first season of your widow- 
 hood, can with equal ease, sustain you through any 
 succeeding one. 
 
 5. Direct your attention to the language of Christ. 
 "Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, 
 neither do they reap, nor gather into bams; yet your 
 
CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 85 
 
 heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye net much 
 better than they ? Matt. vi. 26. And this is but a 
 repetition of a similar sentiment in Psalm cxlvii. 9. : 
 " He giveth to the beast his food, and to the young 
 ravens which cry." Does he take care of ravens, and 
 sparrows, and will he not take care of you ? Will he 
 feed his birds, and starve his babes ? Think of the 
 millions of millions of the animal world, that rise 
 every morning dependent for their sustenance upon 
 the omnipresent and all-sufficient Feeder of his crea- 
 tures ; yet how few of them ever perish for want ! 
 This consideration may not, perhaps, have struck you 
 before, but it is one which our Lord suggested for the 
 comfort of his disciples, and one, therefore, which 
 with great propriety and force, may be submitted to 
 you. 
 
 6. Consider how all creatures, rational and irra- 
 tional, are under the direction and controul of God. 
 " He has prepared his throne in the heavens, and his 
 kingdom ruleth over all." All orders of beings, from 
 the highest seraph in glory, down to the meanest 
 reptile that crawls in the dust, are his servants, and 
 can be made to do his will, execute his plans, and 
 fulfil the purposes of his benevolence towards his 
 people. All hearts are at his disposal, and he can 
 make even the covetous liberal, the hard-hearted 
 sympathetic, and the hostile friendly. In a thousand 
 instances he has made men act contrary to their 
 nature, and brought as it were the waters of mercy 
 out of the rocky heart, to refresh the weary and faint. 
 8 
 
86 CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 
 
 Help has often come from quarters, whence it was to 
 be least expected: and instruments have been em- 
 ployed which, to the eye of reason, were of all the 
 most unlikely. 
 
 The following fact, extracted from an American 
 religious newspaper, is an illustration of this. 
 
 " It was a cold and bleak evening, in a most 
 severe winter. The snow, driven by the furious 
 north wind, was piled into broad and deep banks 
 along our streets. Few dared or were willing to 
 venture abroad. It was a night which the poor will 
 not soon forget. 
 
 "In a most miserable and shattered tenement, 
 somewhat remote from any other habitation, there 
 then resided an aged widow, all alone, and yet not 
 alone. During the weary day, in her excessive 
 weakness, she had been unable to step beyond her 
 door stone, or to communicate her wants to any 
 friend. Her last morsel of bread had been long since 
 consumed, and none heeded her destitution. She sat 
 at evening by her small fire, half famished with 
 hunger, from exhaustion unable to sleep preparing 
 to meet the dreadful fate from which she knew not 
 how she should be spared. She had prayed that 
 morning, in full faith, ' Give me this day my daily 
 bread,' but the shadows of evening had descended 
 upon her, and her faithful prayer had not been 
 answered. While such thoughts were passing 
 through her weary mind, she heard the door suddenly 
 open, and as suddenly shut again, and found deposited 
 
CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 87 
 
 in her entry, by an unknown hand, a basket crowded 
 with all those articles of comfortable food, which had 
 all the sweetness of manna to her. What were her 
 feelings on that night, God only knows ! but they 
 were such as arise up to Him the great deliverer 
 and provider from ten thousand hearts every day. 
 Many days elapsed before the widow learnt through 
 what messenger God had sent to her that timely aid, 
 It was at the impulse of a little child, who on that 
 dismal night, seated at the cheerful fireside of her 
 home, was led to express the generous wish, that 
 that poor widow, whom she had sometimes visited, 
 could have some of her numerous comforts and good 
 cheer. The parents followed out the benevolent 
 suggestion: and a servant was soon despatched to 
 her mean abode with a plentiful supply. 
 
 "What a beautiful glimpse of the chain of causes, 
 all fastened at the throne of God ! An angel, with 
 noiseless wing, came down and stirred the peaceful 
 breast of a pure-hearted child, and with no pomp or 
 circumstance of the outward miracle, the widow's 
 prayer was answered." 
 
 Of course when I recommend confidence in God, it 
 is implied that all suitable exertions be made to 
 obtain the means of support. If you allow grief, 
 despondency, and indolence to paralyse your efforts, 
 you have ro encouragement to trust in God. His 
 grace is to be exercised in connexion with the em- 
 ployment of all those energies which yet remain: 
 and every widow, instead of sitting down to indulge 
 
88 CONFIDENCE IN GOD. 
 
 in hopeless sorrow, should, in humble dependence 
 on divine grace, immediately apply herself in such 
 way as her talents and her circumstances allow, to 
 some occupation, for the support of herself and her 
 children. 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 89 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 IT may not be amiss to introduce here a few of the 
 benefits, which afflictions in general are intended and 
 calculated to produce. God does not afflict willingly, 
 aor grieve the children of men. He takes no delight 
 in seeing our tears, or hearing our groans; but he 
 does take delight in doing us good, making us holy, 
 conforming us to his own image, and fitting us to 
 dwell in his own presence. He treats us as the 
 sculptor does the marble under his hand, which from 
 a rough unsightly mass he intends to carve into a 
 splendid statue, a glorious work of art. Every appli- 
 cation of the chisel, every blow of the mallet, is trf 
 strike off some bit of the stone, which must be re- 
 moved to bring out the figure in perfection, which he 
 designs to form. In our case how much is necessary 
 to be struck off from our corrupt nature, and from 
 what appertains to us, before we can be brought into 
 vhat form and beauty which it is the intention of the 
 divine artificer we should bear, especially as it is his 
 plan to mould us into his own image. How much 
 of pride and vanity ; of carnality and worldly-minded- 
 
90 BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 ness ; of self-sufficiency and independence ; of creatui-e 
 love arid earthly dependence ; must be displaced by 
 one blow of the mallet, and one application of the 
 chisel after another, before the beauties of holiness, 
 humility, meekness, and heavenly mindedness ; and 
 all the graceful proportions and features of the divine 
 nature can be exhibited. 
 
 Various authors have represented the benefits 
 derived from affliction. How does it quicken devotion. 
 Our prayers are too often only said in prosperity, now 
 they are prayed ; then they do but drop, now they 
 are poured out, and flow like a stream, or rise like a 
 cloud of incense, in almost uninterrupted exercise, till 
 the thoughts and feelings seem to follow without 
 intermission in one continued prayer. Ah ! how 
 many can look back to the place of affliction, and 
 say, " There it was my soul poured out many prayers 
 to the Lord. I had grown negligent of the duty, and 
 careless in its performance ; but then I prayed indeed : 
 then I had communion with God ; then I sought the 
 Lord, and he heard me and delivered me from all my 
 fears." Nearness to God is the happiness of the 
 renewed soul. Affliction is but one of God's servants 
 to bring us into his presence, and the enjoyment of 
 this privilege. God delights to hear from us often, 
 as the kind parent loves to hear from his child when 
 at a distance from home. Affliction comes and 
 knocks at the door, enters into our habitation, asks us 
 if we have not forgotten our father, and expresses a 
 willingness to conduct us to him. Many have found, 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 91 
 
 in trial, the lost spirit of prayer, and have experienced 
 in that one benefit, more than a compensation for all 
 they have suffered. Many a woman has been 
 recalled, as a widow, to the closet of devotion, which 
 as a wife, she had forsaken. 
 
 Affliction discloses, mortifies, and prevents sin. It 
 is a season of remembrance. The sin of Joseph's 
 brethren was forgotten till they were in prison ; then 
 it came to their recollection, and they exclaimed, 
 " We are verily guilty concerning our brother." The 
 poor widow of Zarephath, when her child lay dead 
 in the house, thus addressed the prophet, "What 
 have I to do with thee, thou man of God ? Art 
 thou come unto me to call my sin to remembrance, 
 and to slay my son ?" 1 Kings xvii. 18. Perhaps at 
 that moment, the guilt of all her past life, for which 
 she had not sufficiently humbled herself before God 
 came before her perturbed mind. Sin appears but 
 small, and presses but lightly on the conscience in 
 the days of prosperity, but its awful form seems 
 terrific in the night season of trial. Our sorrows look 
 then as the shadows of sins, and address us as with a 
 kind of spectral voice. We go back through our 
 lives ; we follow ourselves through every scene ; we 
 look at our conduct with an inquisitive and jealous 
 eye ; we examine our motives, and weigh our spirits ; 
 and oh what humbling disclosures are the result! 
 Many have gained more self-knowledge by a month's 
 learning in the school of sorrow, than by all their 
 previous life. As it discloses sin, so it mortifies it 
 
92 BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 As wise and salutary discipline weakens evil habits 
 and strengthens the moral virtues ; as the frosts of 
 winter kill, in fallow ground, the noxious insects, and 
 the rank and poisonous weeds ; as the knife prunes 
 the tree of its dead and superfluous branches; and as 
 the fire purifies the precious metals, so that they lose 
 nothing by its action, but their dross ; so trials purge 
 the soul of its corruptions, by weakening the love of 
 sin, giving an experimental proof of its malignity, 
 awakening strenuous efforts to resist its influence, 
 and teaching the necessity of renewed acts of faith 
 on the atoning blood of the Saviour, and dependence 
 on the power and grace of the Holy Spirit. " Every 
 branch in me that beareth fruit, he pruneth it that it 
 may bear more fruit." John xv. 2. " By this, there- 
 fore, shall the iniquity of Jacob be purged ; and this 
 is all the fruit to take away his sin." 
 
 When Mr. Cecil was walking in the Botanical 
 Gardens of Oxford, his attention was arrested by a 
 fine pomegranate tree, cut almost through the stem 
 near the root. On asking the gardener the reason ot 
 this, " Sir," said he, " this tree used to shoot so strong, 
 that it bore nothing but leaves. I was therefore 
 obliged to cut it in this manner; and when it was 
 almost cut through, then it began to bear plenty of 
 fruit." The reply afforded this inquisitive student a 
 general practical lesson, which was of considerable 
 use to him in after life, when severely exercised by 
 personal and domestic afflictions. Alas ! In many 
 cases, it is not enough that the useless branches of 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 93 
 
 the tree be lopped off, but the stock itself must be 
 cut and cut nearly through, before it can become 
 extensively fruitful. And sometimes the finer the 
 tree, and the more luxuriant its growth, the deeper 
 must be the incision."* 
 
 Nor is affliction without its benefit in preventing 
 sin. We never know how near we are to danger. 
 We are like blind men wandering near the edge of a 
 precipice, the mouth of a well, or the margin of a 
 deep pit ; and then God by a severe wrench, it may 
 be, and a violent jerk that puts us to some pain, and 
 gives us a severe shock, plucks us from the ruin that 
 we saw not. Oh what hair-breath escapes from 
 destruction, effected perhaps by some distressing 
 visitation, shall we in eternity be made to understand, 
 we experienced on earth. We now often stand 
 amazed at some sore trial; we cannot conjecture 
 why it was sent ; we see no purpose it was to serve, 
 no end it was to accomplish, but there was an 
 omniscient eye that saw what we did not, and could 
 not see, and he sent forth this event to pluck our feet 
 from the net which had been spread for them. How 
 we shall adore God in heaven for these preventing 
 mercies, that came in the form of some dark and 
 inexplicable event, which filled us at the time with 
 lamentation and woe! Oh woman, even thy hus- 
 
 * " Sympathy," p. 154, by the Rev. JOHN BRUCE, Minister 
 of the Necropolis, Liverpool. This is a tender and inesti- 
 mable volume for the afflicted in general, and especially for 
 those who have suffered the loss of friends. 
 
94 BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 band's grave, was to prevent perhaps a calamity 
 still deeper and heavier than his death. 
 
 Affliction tends to exercise, improve and quicken our 
 graces. In the present state these are all imperfect, 
 and our conformity to the divine purity is only like 
 the resemblance of the sun in a watery cloud, our 
 imperfections envelope and obscure our excellencies ; 
 wherefore God sends the stormy wind of his provi- 
 dential and painful visitations, to sweep away the 
 clouds and cause the hidden luminary to shine forth- 
 How is faith tried, revealed and strengthened by 
 tribulation ! Abraham had not known the strength of 
 his faith, had he not been called to sacrifice Isaac ; 
 nor Peter his, had he not been called by Christ to 
 tread the waves. How many have gone with a 
 weak and faltering belief to the river-side, and yet 
 when there, have had their confidence in God so 
 strengthened, that they plunged into the flood, and 
 have emerged, wondering at the grace which carried 
 them in safety through. Resignation has kept pace 
 with their call for it. There are some graces, which, 
 like the stars, can be seen only in the dark, and this 
 is one of them. As they came to the trial, these 
 afflicted ones saw that their only hope was in sub- 
 mission, and they sent one piercing cry to heaven, 
 "Lord, save or I perish. Help me to bow down 
 with unresisting acquiescence." It was given them; 
 and they kissed the rod, exclaiming, "Even so, 
 Father, for so it seemeth good in thy sight." Their 
 trust and confidence have equalled their faith and 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 95 
 
 submission. At one time they trembled at the 
 shaking of a leaf; to their surprise they now find 
 they can brave storms, or face lions : then it did not 
 seem as if they could trust God for any thing, now 
 they can confide every thing to him. They have 
 been taught lessons of affiance, which in seasons of 
 unmolested ease, seemed as much beyond their com- 
 prehension as their attainment. " Tribulation work- 
 eth patience," and if it does not accomplish this in 
 perfection, it produces it in large measures. Oh 
 what a blessing is patience. It is beautifully said by 
 Bishop Hopkins, " If God confirms and augments thy 
 patience under sufferings, sufferings are mercies; 
 afflictions are favours. He blesseth thee by chastise- 
 ments, and crowneth thee with glory, even while he 
 seems to crown thee with thorns. A perfect patience 
 stoops to the heaviest burdens, and carries them as 
 long as God shall please, without murmuring and 
 repining ; and if that be to the grave, it knows that 
 what is now a load, shall then be found to be a 
 treasure. A Christian doth but carry his own wealth, 
 his crown, and his sceptre ; which though here they 
 be burdensome, shall hereafter be eternally glo- 
 rious." 
 
 The following is an extract from a letter of Ober- 
 lin to a lady who had suffered many bereave- 
 ments. 
 
 " I have before me two stones, which are in imita- 
 tion of precious stones. They are both perfectly 
 alike in colour, they are both of the same water, 
 
96 BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 clear, pure, and clean : yet there is a marked differ- 
 ence between them, as to their lustre and brilliancy. 
 One has a dazzling brightness, while the other is dull, 
 so that the eye passes over it, and derives no pleasure 
 from the sight. What can the reason of this differ- 
 ence be ? It is this ; the one is cut but in few facets ; 
 the other has ten times as many. These facets are 
 produced by a very violent operation. It is requisite 
 to cut, to smooth, and polish. Had these stones been 
 endued with life, so as to have been capable of feel- 
 ing what they underwent, the one which has received 
 eighty facets would have thought itself very unhappy, 
 and would have envied the fate of the other, which, 
 having received but eight, has undergone but a tenth 
 part of its sufferings. Nevertheless, the operations 
 being over, it is done for ever : the difference between 
 the two stones always remains strongly marked. 
 That which has suffered but little, is entirely eclipsed 
 by the other, which alone is held in estimation, and 
 attracts attention. May not this serve to explain the 
 saying of our Saviour, whose words always bear 
 some reference to eternity : Blessed are they that 
 mourn, for they shall be comforted,' blessed whether 
 we contemplate them apart, or in comparison with 
 those who have not passed through so many trials. 
 that we were always able to cast ourselves 
 into his arms, like little children, to draw near him 
 like helpless lambs, and ever to ask of him patience, 
 resignation, an entire surrender to his will, faith, 
 trust, and a heartfelt obedience to the commands 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 97 
 
 which he gives to those who are willing to be his 
 disciples ! * The Lord God will wipe away tears 
 from off all faces.' " 
 
 How does affliction tend to wean us from the vwrld, 
 and to fix our affections on things above. We are 
 all too worldly. We gravitate too much to earth. 
 We have not attained to that conquest of the world 
 by faith, which is our duty to seek, and would he 
 our privilege to obtain. Our feet stick in the mire, 
 and we do not soar aloft on the wings of faith and 
 hope into the regions above us, as we ought. We 
 are as moles, when we should be as eagles : mere 
 earthly men, when we should be as the angels of 
 God. With such a revelation as we possess of the 
 eternal world ; with such a rent as is made in the 
 clouds of mortality by the discoveries of the New 
 Testament ; and such a vista as is opened into the 
 realms of immortality, how easy a thing ought it to 
 be, to overcome the world. With the holy mount 
 so near, and so accessible to our faith, how is it that 
 we grovel as we do here ? How is it that heaven is 
 opening to present its sights to our eyes, and its 
 sounds to our ears, and that we will neither look at 
 the one, nor listen to the other ? "A Christian ought 
 to be," says Lady Powerscourt, " Not one who looks 
 up from earth to heaven, but one who looks down from 
 heaven to earth." Yet the multitude do neither. 
 Instead of dwelling in heaven, they do not visit it 
 instead of abiding in it, in the state of their affec- 
 tions, they do not look at it. Hence the need, and 
 
98 BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 the benefit too, of afflictions. They cover the earth 
 with the shades of night, the pall of darkness, so 
 that if there be any light at all, it must come from 
 the firmament. How differently things look When 
 seen from the chamber of sickness, or the grave of a 
 friend ! Honour, wealth and pleasure, lose their 
 charms then, and present no beauty, that we should 
 desire them. We seem to regard the world as an 
 impostor that has deceived us, and turn from it with 
 disgust. The loss of a friend, and especially such a 
 friend as a husband, does more to prove the truth of 
 Solomon's description of the vanity of every thing 
 beneath the sun, than all the sermons we have ever 
 heard, and all the volumes we have ever read. 
 
 Such are a few of the benefits to be derived, and 
 which by many have been derived from affliction. 
 "Take care, Christian,'' said the late Mr. Cecil, 
 "whatever you meet with in your way, that you 
 forget not your Father! When the proud and 
 wealthy rush by in triumph, while you are poor and 
 in sorrow, listen and hear your Father saying to you, 
 * My son, had I loved them, I should have corrected 
 them too. I give them up to the way of their own 
 hearts ; but to my children, if I give sorrow, it is 
 that I may lead them to a crown of glory that fadeth 
 not away.' " 
 
 The excellent Joseph Williams, of Kidderminster, 
 one of the best men of modern times, does but give 
 the testimony of all God's chosen and tried people 
 where in his diary he says, " I find afflictions to be 
 
BENEFITS OF AFFLICTION. 99 
 
 good for me. I have ever found them so. They 
 are happy means in the hands of the Holy Spirit to 
 mortify my corruptions, to subdue my pride, my 
 passion, my inordinate love to the creature. They 
 soften my hard heart, bring me on my knees, exer- 
 cise and increase faith, love, humility, and self-denial. 
 They make me poor in spirit, and nothing in my 
 own eyes. Welcome the cross ! Welcome deep 
 adversity ! Welcome stripping Providences." 
 
 Humbled in the lowest deep, 
 
 Thee I for my suffering bless ; 
 Think of all thy love, and weep 
 
 For my own unfaithfulness : 
 I have most rebellious been, 
 Thou hast laid thy hand on me, 
 Kindly visited my sin, 
 
 Scourged the wanderer back to thee. 
 
 Taught obedience to my God 
 
 By the things I have endured, 
 Meekly now I kiss the rod, 
 
 Wounded by the rod and cured j 
 Good, for me the grief and pain, 
 
 Let me but thy grace adore, 
 Keep the pardon I regain, 
 
 Stand in awe and sin no more. 
 
 CHARLES WESLEY. 
 
PART SECO ND. 
 
 SCRIPTURE EXAMPLES OF WIDOWS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NAOMI, RUTH, AND ORPAH. 
 
 The fullness and appropriateness of scripture are 
 as delightful as they are wonderful. In that pre- 
 cious volume is to be found something suited to 
 every character, every case, and every vicissitude 
 of life. Promises, precepts, and prospects of every 
 variety, present themselves to all who are desirous 
 of being directed, sanctified, and comforted. But 
 if any one should think there is nothing which 
 meets the specialities of her case, it cannot be the 
 widow. This living form of human woe is found 
 in very diversified circumstances in the Word of 
 God. And to these I now direct the attention of 
 the reader. 
 
 9* 
 
102 SCRIPTURE 
 
 The first example which I present is the little 
 group of widows, consisting of Naomi, and her two 
 daughters-in-law. 
 
 The book of Ruth where this touching story is 
 to be found, was written probably by Samuel, as an 
 introduction to the historical portion of scripture 
 which immediately follows it ; or else it may be re- 
 garded as a beautiful episode of the inspired nar- 
 rative, containing the account of a family, which as 
 it stands in the line of David's ancestry, and there- 
 fore in that of the Messiah, is for this reason as 
 important as its short annajs are tender and in- 
 teresting. 
 
 We are informed by the sacred writer of this 
 book, that a famine having arisen in the land of 
 Judea, Elimelech, a Jew of some note among his 
 countrymen, fled with his wife Naomi, and his two 
 sons, Mahlon and Chilion, into the land of Moab, to 
 which the scarcity had not extended. How far he 
 was justified in such a step, by which he left all the 
 public ordinances of true religion, to sojourn in a land 
 of idolaters, we cannot decide. If, indeed, there 
 were no other means of preserving life^ it would be 
 wrong to condemn him ; but if it were only with a 
 view to obtain a comfortable subsistence, more 
 easily, cheaply, and abundantly, than he could do in 
 Judea, he was to be censured ; and some have con- 
 sidered the afflictions which befel him in the land 
 of Moab, as an expression of the divine displeasure 
 for resorting to it. Let us never for any temporal 
 
EXAMPLES. 103 
 
 advantages give up such as are spiritual ; for worldly 
 ease and prosperity, purchased at the expence of re- 
 ligion, are dearly bought : and at the same time, let 
 us be cautious how we pretend to interpret the 
 affairs of Providence, and to declare that event to be 
 a work of divine displeasure, which is only one of the 
 common occurrences of life. 
 
 One false step is often productive of a long train 
 of consequences, which extend far beyond the in- 
 dividual by whom the error is committed, and in- 
 volves others in danger, or distress ; this is especi- 
 ally true in the case of a parent. Elimelech, as we 
 have already said, had two sons, Mahlon and Chi- 
 lion, who having arrived at manhood, and being re- 
 moved from all intercourse with Jewish females, 
 married two of the women of the idolatrous land in 
 which they now dwelt. This being contrary to the 
 Mosaic law, which forbad the Jews to intermarry 
 with strangers, was unquestionably wrong. But what 
 could their father expect, who had exposed them to 
 the peril ? Religious parents should neither form 
 associations, nor contract friendships with gay world- 
 ly people, nor choose a residence for the sake of their 
 society; for by doing this, they are almost sure to 
 unite their children in marriage with the ungodly. 
 
 The family was now settled in Moab, and Judea 
 seemed, if not forgotten, yet forsaken. Alas ! how 
 soon and how suddenly was the domestic circle in this 
 case, as in many others, invaded and broken up, and 
 all the gay visions of earthly bliss dissipated like the 
 
104 SCRIPTURE 
 
 images of a dream. If the famine followed not this 
 household across the Jordan, death did, for Elime- 
 lech, who sought a portion for them, found a grave 
 far from the sepulchre of his fathers, for himself. 
 Who feels not for Naomi ? There she is a widow ! 
 and a stranger in a strange land, distant from the 
 house of her God, the means of grace, the ministers 
 of religion, the communion of the faithful; and sur- 
 rounded only by heathens, and their abominable 
 idolatries! Still her sons are with her, and also 
 their wives, who had, it seems, embraced the re- 
 ligion x)f their husbands. Here then was a little 
 circle of relatives, and the worshippers of the true 
 God around her, who endeavoured to hush the sor- 
 rows of her heart, and wipe away the tears from her 
 eyes. But her cup of sorrow was now to be filled to 
 the brim, for first one son followed his father to the 
 grave, and then the other. Oh widows, think of 
 her situation, bereft by this thrice repeated blow, 
 of every relative by blood that was near, and left 
 with two widowed daughters-in-law, and they of* 
 pagan origin, in a land of idols ! 
 
 Observe now the conduct of this forlorn and de- 
 solate woman. Did she look round on her gloomy 
 solitude and faint at the dreary prospect ? No : she 
 was evidently a woman of strong mind, and oi 
 stronger faith. She had not, perhaps, consented, 
 but only submitted to the removal from the Holy 
 Land. She felt in her extremity, that though fai 
 from the house and people of God, she was not fa* 
 
EXAMPLES. 105 
 
 from his presence ; and convinced of his all-mighti- 
 ness, as well as of his all-sufficiency, she turned to 
 his promise for comfort, and leaned upon his power 
 for support. Recollecting her situation, she gather- 
 ed up her thoughts, and these led her to Judea. 
 Moab was now a land of none but melancholy as- 
 sociations, containing as it did, besides the wicked- 
 ness of its inhabitants, the sepulchre of her husband, 
 and of her two sons. We wonder not that she 
 thought of her native country, and determined to re- 
 turn. One only attraction made her linger. How 
 could she quit that grave, and dwell so far from it, 
 which contained so much that was still precious to 
 affection, and to memory. This one feeling over- 
 come, she prepared for her sorrowful journey home- 
 wards. She had become endeared to Ruth and Or- 
 pah, who resolved not to quit her, and chose rather 
 to abandon their own relatives, than the mother of 
 their departed husbands. The three widows set 
 forth together, a melancholy group. Thinking it 
 right to put their sincerity to the test, Naomi ad- 
 dressed them in an early stage of the journey, in 
 language, the pathos of which will be felt by every 
 childless widow to the end of time. Orpah yielded 
 to her entreaties, embraced her and returned; but 
 no persuasions could induce Ruth, the chosen of the 
 Lord, to separate from her, and she expressed the 
 resolution of her piety and affection in language of 
 exquisite simplicity, beauty, and tenderness; "En- 
 treat me not to leave thee, or to return from follow- 
 
J06 SCRIPTURE 
 
 ing after thee: for whither thou goest I will go; 
 and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people 
 shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where 
 thou diest I will die, and there will I be buried. 
 The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but 
 death part thee and me." Such love was not to be 
 refused, nor such a purpose to be shaken ; and they 
 travelled on together towards the land of Judea. 
 
 On their approach to Bethlehem, the city of 
 Naomi, a fine testimony was aff brdc d to this* p ; .o;is 
 Jewess, of the estimation in which she was held by 
 her neighbours and friends, for the whole city went 
 forth to meet her, and welcome her back. The very 
 language of their congratulations, however gratifying 
 to her heart, as it was in one respect, pierced it as 
 with a barbed arrow, by reminding her, in the very 
 repetition of her name, which signifies happy, of the 
 altered circumstances in which she returned to them. 
 " Is this Naomi ?" they exclaimed, " Is this she 
 whom we knew so rich, so prosperous, so happy, 
 as the wife of Elimelech ? How changed, how 
 broken, how desolate ! Thy widow's weeds tell us 
 what is become of thy husband : but where are thy 
 two sons, and who is this younger widow that ac- 
 companies thee ? " Alas, alas," she replies, " it is 
 Naomi's self, but not now answering to her name : 
 Jehovah in his righteous judgments, has deprived me 
 of every thing that entitled me to the blissful desig- 
 nation that once belonged to me, as a joyful wife, 
 and happy mother ; call me Marah, a name more 
 
EXAMPLES. 107 
 
 befitting me as a poor childless widow." Amidst all, 
 she acknowledged the hand of God in her bereave- 
 ments, and while she gave utterance to her sorrows, 
 did not darken the tale with the language of com- 
 plaint. Four times, in the compass of her short 
 reply, did she trace up her losses to the divine hand. 
 " The Lord hath afflicted me," was her declaration. 
 How much is included in that expression ! 
 
 Naomi gave not herself up to the indulgence of 
 indolent and consuming grief, but immediately em- 
 ployed her thoughts in providing for the faithful and 
 devoted Ruth, whose stedfast attachment towards 
 God and herself, had been so convincingly manifested. 
 Her conduct in this business was not that of an artful 
 and scheming woman, busy and dexterous in contri- 
 vances for bringing about an advantageous marriage 
 for her daughter-in-law ; but of one who was well 
 skilled in the provisions of the code of Moses, and 
 who knew that if a man died without issue, the next 
 of kin unmarried, should marry his widow, and thus 
 raise up seed to preserve and transmit the patrimo- 
 nial inheritance in a right line. All her conduct, in 
 bringing about the union of Ruth with Boaz, however 
 different from the habits, and opposed to the feelings 
 of modern times, was directed with strict regard to 
 the Levitical arrangements. 
 
 Three different classes of widows may be instructed 
 oy this narrative. 
 
 1. Those who are called to this sorrowful condition 
 in a strange land ; and such sometimes occur : such 
 
108 SCRIPTURE 
 
 I have known, of whose sorrows I have been the 
 distressed and sympathising spectator. I shall noi 
 soon forget the melancholy scene I witnessed when 
 an American lady was deprived of her husband bj 
 death in my own vicinity, and left with five small 
 children, three thousand miles from any relative she 
 had on earth. Her husband occupied a spacious 
 house, and extensive grounds, of which every room, 
 and every tree, as her eye rolled listlessly round OE 
 what had once pleased her, reminded her of her uttei 
 and gloomy solitude. Others there are who are like 
 her, for whom I cherish a sympathy, which nc 
 language can express. Your case, as a widow, even 
 if surrounded by all the scenes of a home in youi 
 native land, and all its friends and dear relations, is 
 sad enough ; but to be away from all these ; to weai 
 your sad costume, and pour forth your tears among 
 those who have no tie to you, and no interest in you, 
 but what your sorrows create, and what common 
 humanity inclines them to yield to the stranger in 
 distress this is affliction, and is to be, a " widow 
 indeed." Let me, however, remind you of topics 
 that have, or ought to have, power to soothe even 
 your lone heart. Recollect, that God is everywhere. 
 Like wretched Hagar in the wilderness, you may lift 
 your eye to heaven and say, " Thou God seest me.' 1 
 Yes, God with all his infinite attributes of power, 
 wisdom, and love, is with you. Between you and 
 earthly friends continents may lie, and oceans roll^ 
 but all places are equally occupied b) your divine 
 
EXAMPLES. 109 
 
 friend, and are equally near to your heavenly home. 
 Even though you had been alone in the midst of an 
 African wilderness, or an American forest, or an 
 Asiatic heathen city, when you were called to sur- 
 render your husband ; though you had been called to 
 dig his grave, and lay him there yourself, God could 
 sustain you, for he is omnipotent, and all-sufficient. 
 Lean upon his arm ; yea, trust him, though it seem 
 in your case to be a kind of experiment, a sort of 
 proof to test him, and try under how weighty a load 
 of care and grief he can support you. If it be a kind 
 of uttermost, that you are inviting him to, he will 
 accept, with wondrous condescension, the invitation, 
 and come in the plenitude of his power and grace to 
 your help. Only believe that God can and will 
 sustain you, and you will be sustained. The power 
 of God is not weakened by your distance from the 
 scenes of your nativity, the circle of your friends, or 
 the comforts of your home. 
 
 2. In the conduct and character of Orpah we find 
 a type of those young widows who having been 
 brought to a profession of religion during the life of a 
 pious husband, relapse at his death into their former 
 worldly-mindedness, and indifference to spiritual 
 subjects. This, perhaps, is not an uncommon case. 
 A female marries a pious man, and through his 
 example and persuasions her mind is impressed with 
 the great concern of salvation, and she becomes a 
 professor of religion ; renounces the world ; conforms 
 to the orders and observances of domestic worship. 
 10 
 
110 SCRIPTURE 
 
 accompanies her husband to the house of God and 
 the sacramental table; and seems in earnest about 
 eternal salvation. In the course of Providence, her 
 husband and spiritual guide is removed by death. 
 During the first months of her widowhood, while her 
 grief is fresh and deep, she still keeps up an attend- 
 ance on all her religious duties, and repairs to them 
 as almost her only comfort. But as the pungency of 
 sorrow abates, she becomes less and less dependent 
 on religion for her comfort. The world smiles on her y 
 and she begins to return its smiles. She insensibly 
 loses her interest in religion, and feels a reviving love 
 to occupations and amusements, which during the 
 life of her husband, she had seemed to abjure ; till at 
 length, her heart, after a little hesitation, goes back 
 to its own country, and its idols. This is a melan- 
 choly occurrence, where the loss of the husband is 
 followed with the loss of the soul, and she parts from 
 him in the dark valley of the shadow of death never 
 again to meet him ; no not in heaven. He left her 
 with the hope of meeting her at the right hand of 
 the judge, and impressed his last kiss upon her cheek 
 in the pleasing anticipation of embracing her as a 
 glorified spirit in the world of glory; but she will not 
 be there, for she has forsaken God, and returned to 
 the world. What bitter emotions will the remem- 
 brance of his holy love, and faithful care of her 
 spiritual interest fum,sh in that dark world, to which 
 her spirit will be consigned. wom&i, once wife 
 of the pious, go not back. Let not the piety happily 
 
EXAMPLES. Ill 
 
 commenced amidst the joys of connubial life, be 
 dispersed by the sorrows of your widowed state ! Let 
 the seeds of religion sown in your soul by a husband's 
 hand, be watered by his widow's tears, and watched 
 by her vigilant and assiduous care. Would you be 
 separated from him in eternity, and by a gulph so 
 wide and so impassable as that which divides hell 
 from heaven ? Oh, pray, and seek, and labour, that 
 his death maybe the means of perpetuating the faith 
 which his life commenced. Keep up the recollection 
 of his example, his prayers, his solicitude for your spir- 
 itual welfare. Let his blest shade, wearing the smile 
 of piety and look of love, and with his finger pointing 
 you to the skies, be ever before your imagination, as 
 your guardian spirit, ministering to your salvation. 
 
 Perhaps you have children, and never can forget 
 with what holy anxiety he endeavoured to train them 
 up for God and heaven. His prayers for their salva- 
 tion still sound in your ears; his tears over their 
 interests still drop before your eyes ; his last charge, 
 as he consigned them into your hands on his dying 
 bed, to bring them up in wisdom's ways, yet thrills 
 through your soul. Oh ! and shall these consecrated 
 pledges of your affection; these living monuments of 
 his dear self, these offerings made so solemnly to God, 
 be carried back by you to the world ? Will you undo 
 all that you saw him do with such pious labour ? 
 Will you take from the altar of God, those whom he 
 had conducted to it, and offer them at the shrine of 
 Mammon ? 
 
112 SCRIPTURE 
 
 3. But turn to Ruth, and see there a female 
 brought by her marriage to the knowledge and wor- 
 ship of the true God, and still retaining in her 
 widowhood her devotedness to him. I again refer 
 you to that exquisite burst of filial love, and genuine 
 piety, " Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return 
 from following after thee; for whither thou goest I 
 will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy 
 people shall be my people, and thy God my God." 
 No ; she would not go back to her country and to her 
 gods, but determined to go into Judea, and serve the 
 God of Chilion, her husband : and she did. Happy 
 woman, and rich was her reward ! What can so 
 gently sooth the sorrows of widowhood, so mollify its 
 wounds, so raise its fallen hopes, and sweeten its 
 bitter cup, as retaining the power of that religion, 
 which sanctifies and strengthens the marriage bond. 
 True it is that when a wife has found in a husband 
 the instrument of her conversion, and many have 
 found it, it seems an additional aggravation to her 
 loss, to be thus deprived of her earthly companion 
 and heavenly guide; but when she holds fast the 
 faith that she learnt from him, she is by this means 
 prepared to bow with submission to the loss, and to 
 feel her solitude more tolerable. How sacred and 
 how tender are her recollections, if she retains her 
 sted*astness. Nothing but what is pleasant comes 
 from the past into her mind. No remorse of con- 
 science smites her, as it must do the widow who 
 departs from the religion she had professed in hei 
 
EXAMPLES. 113 
 
 marriage state. She never in her dreams, or in her 
 waking hours sees her husband's frowning image 
 looking with reproachful eye upon her. Maintaining 
 with unbroken consistency her profession, she is 
 soothed and comforted still, by all the holy assiduities 
 of those of her pious friends whom his religion 
 brought around her, and whom her own, now retains. 
 Her heart is dead to the world, and no distance of 
 time from his decease seems to revive it. In com- 
 munion with God, that God to whom he led her, and 
 to whom they so frequently approached together, she 
 finds her consolation. The seasons of their joint 
 devotion still please and edify in recollection. The 
 books they read together are re-perused the place 
 which he occupied in the sanctuary, and in the scene 
 of domestic piety, still present him to her memory, 
 and stimulate her devotion the spot where they 
 kneeled and poured out together their cares and joys 
 in prayer and thanksgiving to God, rekindles from 
 time to time the flame of piety in her soul. 
 
 Then her children, if she has any, are still the 
 objects of her solicitude and care. She feels a sweet 
 and sacred obligation upon her conscience, to carry 
 on that system of education which she commenced 
 under the direction and with the help of her most 
 dear husband. 
 
 She knows it to be at once her duty and her privi- 
 lege to train up for God, those whom she had so often 
 heard him commend with such earnestness to their 
 heavenly father. Often as she talks of their sainted 
 iO* 
 
114 SCK1PTUKE 
 
 parent till her tears and sobs almost choke her utter- 
 ance, she reminds them that if they follow his faith 
 and patience, they shall soon all meet in the presence 
 of Christ to part no more. 
 
 Widow of the departed Christian, forsake not then 
 the God of your husband, and your own God too : 
 follow him in his piety, and follow him to glory, and 
 let it be the solace of your widowhood to remember, 
 that 
 
 The saints on earth and all the dead, 
 
 But one communion make ; 
 All join in Christ their living head, 
 
 And of his grace partake. 
 
 And in order to cleave to your husband's God, cleave 
 to his pious relatives. Imitate Ruth in this. It may 
 be that like her, you have been called out of a circle 
 in which true piety had neither place nor countenance. 
 Your own relatives are of the earth, earthly, and 
 holding lax views and sentiments with regard to 
 religion, they are likely, if much associated with, to 
 divert your thoughts, and turn the current of your 
 affections away from things unseen and eternal, to 
 things seen and temporal. They will, perhaps, wish 
 to recover you back to your former indifference to 
 these important matters, and propose means to 
 recreate your spirits very alien from all your present 
 convictions and tastes. It will be their especial 
 effort, probably to draw you out of the circle of your 
 husband's religious friends, and bring you back to the 
 
EXAMPLES. 115 
 
 gay circle you have left. Such efforts must be judi- 
 ciously and kindly, but, at the same time, firmly 
 resisted. Without alienating yourself from your own 
 worldly friends, you must not allow yourself to be 
 separated from his pious ones. In their society you 
 will find, not only the most precious and sacred 
 consolations, but the most likely means to establish 
 you in the faith and hope of the gospel, and to per- 
 petuate your enjoyment of its rich privileges. 
 
 This is important on account of your children also. 
 You are desirous of bringing them up in the fear of 
 God, and the love of Christ, according to the plan 
 and design of their departed father : and to accom- 
 plish this, it is necessary to keep them as much as 
 possible from such associations as would defeat your 
 hopes, and to place them in the way of others, whose 
 example and influence would conduce to their ac- 
 complishment. Character is formed in a great mea- 
 sure by imitation, and if we place the young and 
 susceptible mind in the way of such examples as are 
 altogether worldly, even though they may not be 
 vicious, we are exposing them to great hazard, and 
 are putting in jeopardy their eternal salvation. 
 
116 SCRIPTURE 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WIDOW OF ZAREPHATH. 1 Kings, 
 
 An example of trust and kindness to such widows at 
 are poor. 
 
 THE prophet Elijah, after having been miraculously 
 fed during a long famine, by ravens at the brook 
 Cherith, found it necessary to quit his retreat in 
 consequence of the failure of the stream which had 
 nitherto supplied him with water. There is a mys- 
 terious sovereignty running through all the ways of 
 God, extending also to his miraculous operations. He 
 works no more wonders, and gives no more signs, 
 than the exigency of the case needs. He that sent 
 flesh by a bird of prey 5 could have caused the brook 
 still to resist the exhausting power of the drought, or 
 have brought water out of the stones which lay in 
 its dr^ bed : but he did not see fit to do so. When 
 the brook fails, however, God has a Zarephath for 
 
EXAMPLES. 117 
 
 his servant ; and a widow, instead of ravens, shall 
 now feed him; for all creatures are equally God's 
 servants, and he is never at a loss for instruments 
 either of power to destroy his enemies, or of love to 
 succour and help his friends : what he does not find 
 he can make, and here, therefore, is a firm ground of 
 our confidence in him : " They that know his name 
 will put their trust in him." " Arise," said God to 
 the prophet, " get thee to Zarephath, which belongeth 
 to Zidon, and dwell there : behold, I have commanded 
 a widow woman to sustain thee there." Every 
 thing in the injunction must have been confounding 
 to reason. " What ! go to Zarephath ! a city out of 
 the boundaries of the land of promise! the native 
 country of Jezebel, my bitterest foe ! Go to such a 
 distance in a time of famine ! What am I to do, and 
 how am I to be fed on my long and toilsome journey ? 
 And when I shall have arrived there, am I to be 
 dependant oa a woman, and she a widow?" Did 
 Elijah reason, and question, and cavil thus ? Nothing 
 of the sort, for what is difficult to reason, is easy to 
 faith. God had commanded, and his commands 
 imply promises. It was enough, " Go, for God sends 
 thee ;" and he went nothing doubting, nothing asking, 
 nothing fearing. 
 
 Arrived at the vicinity of the place about eventide, 
 and looking round, of course, for the female hand 
 that was at once to guide him to a home, and feed 
 him too, Elijah saw a poor woman gathering a few 
 sticks, which the long drought had scattered in 
 
118 SCRIPTURE. 
 
 abundance. Her occupation, as well as her appear- 
 ance, proclaimed her poverty. He saw no one else ; 
 " Can that be my benefactress ?" we can fancy him 
 asking himself. Remembering, however, the ravens 
 who had been his purveyors for a whole year, he 
 knew that help could come by the hand of even that 
 feeble instrument. An impression, such as those 
 who had been accustomed to receive revelations from 
 God well understood, assured him that his deliverer 
 was before him. " Fetch me," said he, " a little 
 water in a vessel that I may drink." Such a re- 
 quest was asking for more than gold. Yet awed by 
 the prophet's appearance, and influenced by the 
 prophet's God, she set out immediately in quest of 
 the precious liquid, but was stopped to hear another 
 request: " Bring me a morsel of bread in thy hand." 
 This second request drew from the poor woman one 
 of the most affecting statements that even poverty's 
 self ever made : " As the Lord thy God liveth, I 
 have not a cake, but a handful of meal in a barrel, 
 and a little oil in a cruse, and behold I am gathering 
 two sticks that I may go in and dress for me and 
 my son, that we may eat it and die." Alas ! poor 
 mother, thy condition is sad indeed, thou art, in 
 thine own apprehension, about to make thy last 
 meal, with thy fatherless child, and then with him. 
 to yield yourselves to death. It was time for the 
 prophet to visit this widow, to whom he was 
 evidently sent, more on her account than his own. 
 How little could she have imagined when she ut- 
 
EXAMPLES. 119 
 
 ered that sorrowful confession of destitution, that 
 help was at hand, and a rich supply at her very 
 door. How opportunely does God provide succours 
 for our distresses. It is his glory to begin to help, 
 when hope seems to end, and to send assistance in 
 his own way, when ours all fail, that our relief may 
 be so much the more welcome and precious, by how 
 much the less it is expected, and thus be to his own 
 praise, as much as it is for our comfort. Elijah full 
 of prophetic impulse, as well as urged by hunger, 
 said to her, " Fear not ; go, and do as thou hast 
 said; but make me thereof a little cake first, and 
 bring it unto me, and afterwards make for thee and 
 for thy son : for thus saith the Lord God of Israel, 
 The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither shall the 
 cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth 
 rain upon the earth. What answer to this would 
 he have received from many, yea, from all who 
 were not as full of faith as this poor widow ! She 
 might have said, " Charity begins at home. My 
 child has claims upon me, and I have a claim upon 
 and for myself, which it is impossible to forego or 
 forget for any other; and I am surprised at a re- 
 quest which would take the last morsel from us 
 both to feed a Granger." And do I not hesitate to 
 say, that her compliance with the injunction, can be 
 justified only on the ground of her faith in the prom- 
 ise. That she did believe the promise is evident, 
 and equally so, that this faith was the gift of God to 
 her soul. This was faith, and of no ordinary strength; 
 
120 SCRIPTURE. 
 
 it made her willing " to spend upon one she had 
 never seen before a part of the little she had, in 
 hope of more; to part with the means of present 
 support, which she saw, in confidence of future sup- 
 plies, which she could not see ; and thus oppose her 
 senses and her reason to exercise her belief in God's 
 word."* She went and did according to the saying 
 of Elijah. And now, we ask, was she deceived by 
 the failure, or rewarded by the fulfilment, of the 
 promise ? When did one word that God had 
 spoken fall to the ground ? Thus stands the re- 
 cord : "She and her son did eat many days. And 
 the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the cruse 
 of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord, which 
 he spake by Elijah." 
 
 "Behold then," says the author of Elijah the Tish- 
 bite, "this man of God cheerfully sitting down in 
 her solitary cottage. Surely ' the voice of rejoicing 
 and salvation is in the tabernacles of the righteous ;' 
 for ' the right hand of the Lord,' on their behalf, 
 'doeth valiantly.' Psalm cxviii. 15. They re- 
 joice together, not only on account of temporal bless- 
 ings, but much more on account of those which are 
 spiritual. Israel had lost Elijah, and a poor widow 
 in a heathen land has found him. Thus often does 
 it fare with a people, who, though they have been 
 privileged with the most faithful preaching of the 
 gospel, will not turn unto the Lord, with all their 
 
 * See the beautiful Contemplations of Bishop Hall. 
 
EXAMPLES. 121 
 
 heart, and walk uprightly before him. They are 
 cursed with a famine of the Word of God ; the 
 children's bread is taken from them, and imparted to 
 others whom they account no better than dogs, who 
 however ' will receive it,' and are languishing for it. 
 Indeed our Lord himself thus applies this part of 
 sacred history to the case of the people of Nazareth, 
 who refused to receive his ministry : 1 1 tell you of a 
 truth, many widows were in Israel in the days of 
 Elias, when the heaven was shut up three years and 
 six months, when great famine was throughout all 
 the land; but unto none of them was Elias sent, 
 save unto Sarepta, a city of Sidon, unto a woman 
 that was a widow.' Luke iv. 25, 26. Here then 
 the prophet dwells quite happy under the widow's 
 roof. All distress has disappeared. The meal is 
 not diminished in the barrel, nor fails the oil in the 
 cruse, according to the word of the Lord, which he 
 spake by Elijah. Neither does their spiritual sus- 
 tenance fail. Well might this poor widow rejoice in 
 the privilege of sitting daily at the feet of this man 
 of God, for instruction in. divine things ! Can we 
 doubt for a moment that the prophet most gladly 
 opened his mouth in divine wisdom, to impart it to 
 the soul of this simple believing sister? Can we 
 doubt that they prayed together, that they read to- 
 gether out of Moses and the prophets, that they con- 
 versed together of the day of Christ, which Abraham 
 saw with gladness? And would they not, think 
 you, occasionally raise a spiritual song to the honour 
 11 
 
122 SCRIPTURE 
 
 of their Lord and Saviour? How swiftly and how 
 pleasantly must the hours have passed with them ; 
 and well might the angels of God have rejoiced, as 
 no doubt they did, over this little church in the wil- 
 derness ! Behold here then, my brethren, the bright 
 egress and happy termination of a path, which com- 
 menced in such thick darkness ! Only let all the 
 children of God implicitly follow his guidance, and he 
 will assuredly conduct them to a glorious end" 
 
 The trials of this poor widow, however, consisted 
 not of her poverty alone. The child miraculously 
 snatched from the jaws of famine was still mortal, 
 as the event proved, for he sickened and died. In 
 her behaviour under this new trial, we see that her 
 faith, as a believer, was sadly mixed with her in- 
 firmity as a woman ; and that it did not shine with 
 the same lustre in this new trial, as it did in the 
 former one. What poor changeable creatures we 
 are, and how insufficient is past grace for present 
 duties and afflictions. Perhaps, we are sometimes 
 as apt to presume upon past experience, as we are, 
 at other seasons, to forget it. " What have I to do 
 with thee thou man of God ? Art thou come to 
 call my sin to remembrance, and to slay my sou ?" 
 This was the language of ignorance and passion, 
 which we should hardly have expected from one 
 who had seen the miracle of the barrel of meal, and 
 cruse of oil; and shows how sorrow is apt to be- 
 cloud the judgment and to exasperate the feelings , 
 and at the same time, how affliction is apt to re- 
 
EXAMPLES. 123 
 
 vive the recollections of past and even pardoned sin. 
 Elijah, with a touching gentleness, which instructs 
 us how to hear with the petulant complaints of deep 
 grief, bore with her expostulation, and restored the 
 child to life, and to the arms of his joyful and grate- 
 ful mother. Her faith and confidence, a little shaken 
 by the trial, returned with her son's life, and she 
 lived, with him, to praise and glorify God. 
 
 And now let those to whom this beautful narrative 
 is especially applicable, take it to themselves, and 
 apply it to their own sad and sorrowful hearts? 
 And who are they? The widows that are left in 
 circumstances of deep poverty, who have only a 
 handful of meal, as it were, in the barrel, and a little 
 oil in the cruse; and who after eating this last sup- 
 ply, are preparing to yield themselves to want or 
 death. Afflicted woman, my heart bleeds for you. 
 The provider for your own comfort and that of your 
 children is gone ; the hand of the diligent that once 
 made you, if not rich, yet comfortable, has forgotten 
 its cunning, and it is your bitter lot to see the little 
 which he left you, continually consuming, without 
 your knowing, or even being able to conjecture, from 
 whence the empty barrel is to be replenished. It 
 is for such as you, to remember the words of 
 Jehovah, "And let thy widows trust in me." You 
 have no other trust, and none are so much en- 
 couraged to trust in God, as they whose sole con- 
 fidence, the Lord is. Then, above all times, is tne 
 time to look up with hope to God, when we have 
 
124 SCRIPTURE 
 
 no other to look up to. What promises are upon 
 record for your consolation. Having already laid 
 them before you, I will only refer to a few of them. 
 What sweet language is that in Psalm xxxiv. 1 10, 
 and Psalm xxxvii. Turn to your Bible, and read 
 those comforting portions of Holy Scripture. Then 
 how cheering to the believer is the prophet's assur- 
 ance, " He shall dwell on high : his place of de- 
 fence shall be the munitions of rocks : bread shall 
 be given ; his water shall be sure." Isaiah xxxiii. 
 16. Can any thing be more encouraging than the 
 apostle's application to the individual believer, of 
 the promise made to Joshua? So that we may 
 boldly say, we Christians, yes, every one of us in- 
 dividually, The Lord is my helper. Be content 
 with such things as ye have, then, for he hath said, 
 "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." The 
 force of this passage in the original, exceeds the 
 power of translation : it contains five negative par- 
 ticles within the compass of these few words, so 
 that literally rendered it would be, " No, I will not 
 leave thee; no, no, I will not forsake thee." It is 
 one of the most emphatical and beautiful examples 
 of the force of a negative declaration, in all the 
 scripture. God seems to start back with dread and 
 abhorrence at the thought of forsaking his people. 
 Trust him. Not that I mean to insinuate that you 
 are authorised to expect miraculous supplies. Your 
 garments will not be rendered undecaying like those 
 of the Israelites in the wilderness, nor your pro- 
 
EXAMPLES. 125 
 
 visions inexhaustible, like those of the widow be- 
 fore us; but the God of providence can find you 
 means and instruments of assistance, as effectual as 
 if the laws of nature were suspended in your behalf. 
 All hearts are in his hands ; all events are at his dis- 
 posal; all contingencies are in his knowledge and 
 under his direction. What is Wanting on your part 
 is FAITH. Only believe, and perhaps you are really 
 shut up to this ; you can scarcely do any thing else. 
 
 Not that I mean to discourage effort. On this 
 subject I have dwelt in a former part of the volume: 
 you must, in proper season and manner, exert your- 
 self in your own support, and that of your children ; 
 but what I mean is, that when after every dispo- 
 sition, and fixed determination, and collected energy, 
 to do this, you do not see through what channel, 
 and to what object, your efforts are to be directed; 
 you are to believe that God will, in ways unknown 
 and unthought of by you, afford you his assistance. 
 This is your faith. In ten thousand times, ten 
 thousand instances, as we have already remarked, 
 he has helped poor dependent widows as effectually 
 without a miracle, as he did the woman of Zarep- 
 hath by one. The barrel of meal, and cruse of oil 
 Jias been replenished as truly, though not as mys- 
 teriously, as in the case before us. And why is this 
 case recorded, but to encourage you to trust in God. 
 It was a miracle it is true, and like other miracles 
 had the high design of confirming the revelation of 
 God by his prophet; but it was a miracle of supply 
 11* 
 
126 SCRIPTURE 
 
 to one in want, intended visibly to typify and illus- 
 trate God's ordinary providence in supplying the 
 wants of his people, and to encourage through all 
 ages, the exercise of pious confidence in him. Read 
 it with this view of it ; and when the last supply is 
 exhausted, from time to time, read it again and 
 again, to raise the hope of a future communication 
 from him, who heareth the young ravens when they 
 cry. You do not know when or how it will come, 
 but believe that it ivill come. what a God-hon- 
 ouring grace is faith ! and as this honours Him, so 
 ne delighteth to honour it. All things are possible, 
 and all things are promised, to him that believeth. 
 As no miracle could be wrought, in the time when 
 these wondrous operations were common, without 
 faith in the subject of it; so now, in cases of provi- 
 dential interposition, no manifestation of God's pow- 
 er and grace is to be looked for, but in answer to 
 faith. I would not encourage enthusiasm, but I be- 
 .ieve that God saith to his dependent and destitute 
 people, "Be it unto you according to your faith." 
 Do not, then, look only to see the barrel of meal 
 gradually sinking lower and lower, but look up 
 unto God who can replenish it, and with much in 
 the former to generate doubt and fear, feel also that 
 there is as mucn in the latter to encourage faith 
 and hope. 
 
 But there is another lesson to be learnt by the 
 conduct of the widow of Sarepta, and that is, not to 
 let your own grief and comparative destitution, steel 
 
EXAMPLES. 127 
 
 your hearts against the wants of others, and close 
 your hands to their necessities. She shared with 
 Elijah the last meal she was preparing for herself 
 and her son. Grief is apt to make us selfish, and 
 limited circumstances to produce an indisposedness 
 to communicate. Take heed against such a state 
 of mind as this. Exhaust not all your tears upon 
 yourself. There are many as destitute as you are, 
 perhaps some far more so. You are prepared by ex- 
 perience to sympathise with them, and will find in 
 sympathy a relief for your own sorrows. Nothing 
 tends more to relieve that overwhelming sense of 
 wretchedness, with which the heart of the sufferer 
 is sometimes oppressed, than a generous pity for at 
 fellow weeper. 
 
128 SCRIPTURE 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE WIDOW OF ONE OF THE SONS OF THE 
 PROPHETS. 
 
 Addressed to the Widows of Ministers left in 
 destitute circumstances. 
 
 Now there cried a certain woman of the wives of the sons 
 of the prophets unto Elisha, saying, Thy servant my hus 
 band is dead and thou knowest that thy servant did fear 
 the Lord : and the creditor is come to take unto him my 
 two sons to be bondmen. And Elisha said unto her, What 
 shall I do for thee? tell me, what hast thou in the house ? 
 And she said) Thine handmaid hath not any thing in the 
 house, save a pot of oil. Then he said, Go, borrow thee 
 vessels abroad of all thy neighbours, even empty vessels ; 
 borrow not a few. And when thou art come in, thou 
 shall shut the door upon thee and upon thy sons, and shall 
 pour out into all those vessels, and thou shalt set aside 
 that which is full. So she went from him, and shut the 
 door upon her and upon her sons, who brought the vessels 
 to her ; and she poured out. And it came to pass, when 
 
EXAMPLES. 129 
 
 the vessels were full, that she said unto her son, Bring me 
 yet a vessel. And he said unto her, There is not a vessel 
 more. And the oil stayed. Then she came and told the 
 man of God. And he said, Go, sell the oil, and pay thy 
 debt, and live thou and thy children of the rest." 2 Kings, 
 iv. 17. 
 
 BY the sons of the prophets we are to understand 
 those who were collected into a kind of colleges, 
 where persons, called of God to the prophetic office, 
 were trained for their future duties, under the super- 
 intendance of inspired men. Samuel, Elijah, Elisha, 
 and probably some others, were appointed to this 
 high and responsible station. Among the disciples 
 of these great teachers were some married men. 
 One of these, the scripture above quoted, tells us 
 died, leaving a widow involved in debt contracted 
 by her husband, and with two children to support. 
 She was sued for payment, and as the law allowed 
 a claim for personal service, in default of any other 
 means of discharging the debt, a claim which ex- 
 tended, according to the interpretation of the Jews, 
 to a man's children, her creditors were about to seize 
 her two sons. Denied mercy by the claimant, she 
 applied in her extremity to Elisha, with the hope 
 probably of obtaining his interposition with the chief 
 creditor, or with some other persons able to befriend 
 her. She reminds the prophet of the godly char- 
 acter of her husband; of his own acquaintance with 
 him ; and of his knowledge of the truth of her testi- 
 mony to his blameless conduct. From this it seems 
 
130 SCRIPTURE 
 
 fair to conclude, that his debts had not been con- 
 tracted by prodigality, luxury, or imprudence. Eli- 
 sha listened to the widow's tale of woe, and then 
 by an impulse from God, relieved her wants by the 
 performance of a miracle. Still it was a miracle 
 that required some exertion on her part after the 
 means of supply were provided. Upon enquiring 
 into what articles of value or support she had left in 
 the house, it was found that all which poverty had 
 left her, was a small pot of oil, which, as is well 
 known, was then used both for diet and as an 
 unguent. This she was directed to produce, and 
 at the same time, to go and borrow all the vessels 
 which she could well get together in a short time, 
 and in a small room. These having been procured, 
 she was directed to pour the oil into them. She 
 complied with the orders, and the oil continued to 
 flow and to fill the vessels, till there was enough, 
 upon its being sold, to pay her husband's debts, and 
 save her sons from servitude. 
 
 Here again was an instance of faith. She knew 
 the word of the prophet was the word of God, and 
 she believed it, confidently expecting the relief 
 which she needed. Elisha, it is true, had not in 
 so many words promised to grant a supply of oil, 
 but she understood his command to berrow the ves- 
 sels, in this light, and therefore collected them, both 
 large and numerous ones. Anc the oil continued 
 flowing as long as she had any empty vessels to re- 
 ceive it, and had her faith been greater, her supply 
 
XAMPLES. 131 
 
 had been raised in proportion to it. "We are never 
 straitened in God, in his power, or grace, but in our- 
 selves. It is our faith that stops, or fails, and not his 
 promise. He is able to do exceeding abundantly 
 above all that we ask or think. "And if this pot 
 of oil was not exhausted as long as there were ves- 
 sels to receive it, shall we fear lest the ' golden oil ' 
 (of divine grace) which flows from the very root and 
 fatness of the good olive tree, should fail, as long as 
 there are any lamps to be supplied from it?" 
 Zech. iv. 12. How well and deservedly is faith 
 called precious. How many has it sanctified, com- 
 forted, and saved. Why the prophet relieved her 
 in this way, we know not, except it were to bring 
 out her faith, her industry, and her honesty, all in 
 one view, and in beautiful harmony. Certain it is 
 that all these were exhibited; her faith in receiving 
 the promise ; her industry in collecting and selling 
 the oil ; and her honesty in paying the debts with 
 the produce. 
 
 " Your fathers where are they, and the prophets 
 do they live for ever ?" All flesh is as grass, and all 
 the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass 
 withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away: but 
 the word of the Lord endureth for ever. And this is 
 the word, which by the gospel is preached unto 
 you." 1 Peter i. 24, 25. Yes, the word is immor- 
 tal, but the preacher of it is mortal. Ministers die 
 like other men. Life worketh in their hearers, but 
 death in them. They not only die in their work, 
 
132 SCRIPTURE 
 
 but often by it. They sink to the grave worn out 
 by labour, and usually leave their widows and chil- 
 dren ill provided with the riches of this world. Here 
 and there an individual attains, by the bounty of 
 Providence, to comparative wealth, but these are 
 the exceptions: the general rule of ministerial cir- 
 cumstances is, if not poverty, an approach to it. To 
 them it is given to say, with the great apostle of the 
 Gentiles, "poor, yet making many rich." Blessed 
 with talents, which, in other occupations, would 
 be sufficient to procure competence, if not wealth, 
 they give themselves in most cases, wholly to the 
 things of the Lord. The consequence of this is, 
 that with the most rigid economy, they are with 
 difficulty able to obtain support, much less to amass 
 property. Considering their acquirements, mental 
 capacity, and rank in life, they are the worst paid 
 public functionaries in existence. But they look not 
 for their reward from men, or upon earth. They 
 serve a master infinitely rich, and infinitely gener- 
 ous, and amidst much ingratitude and injustice 
 from their flocks, they can leave their services and 
 their reward with him. It is vain, however, to 
 deny that it costs them many an anxious hour, 
 when breaking down under their exertions, to con- 
 template the moment of their removal from this 
 world. Not that they have any thing to fear for 
 themselves; for them it will be better to depart and 
 to be with Christ. They are going to rest from all 
 their labours, acd all their cares but the prospect 
 
EXAMPLES. 133 
 
 of leaving a widow and fatherless children, to the 
 generosity of a congregation which was never over 
 liberal while they lived, and is likely soon to forget 
 them in affection for their successor, requires strong 
 confidence indeed to suppress the fear, and even the 
 groan of painful anxiety. 
 
 The dying fears, the last he will ever know, of the 
 good man, oftentimes prove but too prophetic, as you 
 his forlorn and desolate widow, too well know. You 
 are indeed to be pitied. He who, in relation to you, 
 united the husband and pastor, is removed; he 
 whose love in your own house was your solace as a 
 wife, and whose sermons in the house of God, were 
 your comfort as a Christian, is gone for ever. You 
 are the centre of that grief of which the congregation 
 are the wide circle. It is pain enough to see that 
 pulpit occupied by another, which he once and so 
 long filled ; and to hear another voice than his sound 
 forth the message of life : but other woes aggravate 
 this already heavy one. They loved him and valued 
 his ministry, perhaps, while he lived, and it seemed 
 as if he had prepared for himself an imperishable 
 monument in every heart, and would be long and 
 gratefully remembered by those, on whose hallowed 
 recollections he had strong claims ; and who, it might 
 have been expected, would love to demonstrate and 
 perpetuate their gratitude, in sympathy for his 
 widow, and beneficence to his children. But you 
 have proved how little reliance is to be placed upon 
 posthumous affection. You were prepared, or ought 
 12 
 
134 SCRIPTURE 
 
 to have been, to witness a transfer of that respect 
 and affection which had been cherished for the former 
 pastor, to his successor; it is right and proper it 
 should be so: and you ought to rejoice and feel 
 thankful that the church, for which your husband 
 laboured so hard, prayed so fervently, and which 
 pressed so heavily on his spirit, in his last and suffer- 
 ing hours, is so comfortably settled with one to 
 follow in his footsteps, and to carry on his usefulness : 
 but you were not, prepared, how could you be? to 
 see him so soon forgotten, and to hear comparisons 
 unkindly made, and indelicately conveyed to you, 
 between him and his successor, and to his disparage- 
 ment. You were not prepared, how could you be ? 
 to find his widow neglected, his children forsaken: 
 to feel so soon that you were left, though surrounded 
 with numerous friends, that once were competitors for 
 your friendship, to mourn apart and unpitied. You 
 were not prepared, to learn how much of former atten- 
 tion was paid you for your husband's sake, and how 
 soon you would find this out when he was removed. 
 Nor is this the last or the lowest step in the descend- 
 ing scale of your sorrows. When your husband 
 died, the means of your support died with him, and 
 you are now cast with your children, upon Provi- 
 dence for support. You expected a little more gene* 
 rous and practical sympathy, from a church in whose 
 spiritual welfare your husband wore out his strength , 
 and are bitterly disappointed that all those profes- 
 sions of attachment, which it was your privilege, at 
 
EXAMPLES. 135 
 
 one time, to hear so profusely lavished on him, hav% 
 ended, in results, so far as you are concerned, so 
 miserably disproportionate. 
 
 Should all this really be the case with any whose 
 sorrowful eye shall read these pages, I recommend 
 to them the consideration, that provided their faith 
 and trust be equal to the emergency, the less they 
 receive from man, the more they may expect from 
 God. Bear this heavy trial with meekness and a 
 quiet spirit. Do not show resentment ; and endeavour 
 to feel none. Bring no accusation and utter no com- 
 plaint, much less reviling. Silent and patient sub- 
 mission is most likely to draw attention upon your 
 circumstances. Many a widow in your situation, 
 has injured her own cause by reproachful reflections 
 upon the people of her late husband's charge. A 
 modest but not servile appeal, laid in confidence 
 before some of your friends, on behalf of his necessi- 
 tous children, may be properly made, and ought to 
 be attended to; and in order to engage those friends, 
 take care that your children be well trained. It 
 must be confessed, that in many instances, the want 
 of interest and sympathy for the widow and children 
 of a minister of religion, is to be traced, not so much 
 to the want of kind feeling on the part of the people, 
 as to her want of good sense and good temper, and 
 their destitution of good training, and good conduct. 
 If she be unreasonable in her expectations, and petu- 
 lant and disrespectful in the event of their not being 
 fulfilled; or if the children be rude, refractory, and 
 
136 SCRIPTURE 
 
 unlovely through deficiency of maternal restraint ; it 
 requires much stronger generosity or affection, than 
 is usually met with even among professing Christians, 
 to overcome so much that is repulsive, and to he kind 
 to the living, only for the sake of the dead. Amidst 
 the deficiencies or the scantinesses of human sym- 
 pathy, look for it from a source where it never fails. 
 God observes your situation, and beholds you as the 
 relic of one whom he delighted to honour. You can 
 go to Him with boldness and say, " Thy servant is 
 dead who feared thee ; look in pity on those whom 
 he has left in poverty and difficulty." If such a plea 
 prevailed with the prophet, will it not with God? 
 He is no debtor to you, or to your late husband ; but 
 he is a generous master to his servants, and rewards 
 them in a way of grace, in a manner that is often 
 surprising. If he takes care of widows and fatherless 
 children in general, how confidently may those 
 expect his kind interposition, who belonged to his 
 own servants? Go then with humble boldness to the 
 Lord Jesus, carry your children in the arms of your 
 faith, place them in his presence, and say with all 
 reverence and humility, but with all confidence > 
 "Behold the children of thy departed servant." 
 Remember that more is expected from you than 
 from others. The widow of a minister should be 
 an example to all widows. Col. Hutchinson, when 
 taking leave of his wife, admonished her not to forget 
 her standing, and to mourn as a woman of no ordi- 
 nary character How suitable is this to the widow 
 
EXAMPLES. 137 
 
 of a teacher of religion; and how much does it 
 become her t>" ..how, by the manner in which she 
 bears his dea:h, how well she had profited by the 
 instructions of his life. His sermons on submission 
 to the will of God, should all appear embodied in her 
 meek and pious resignation. 
 
 If there are sources of pain, peculiar to the widow 
 of a minister, there are also sources of comfort. The 
 memory of such a man is blessed. You were the 
 companion of one who wore out life, not in amassing 
 wealth, but in winning souls to God : not in enrich- 
 ing himself with filthy lucre, but in conferring upon 
 otriers, imperishable wealth. Look back upon his 
 holy and useful career. Call to recollection his labours 
 for Christ: his trials and discouragements; his joys 
 and successes. Think how he served his master, and 
 how his master honoured him ; with what untiring 
 zeal, amidst what self-denial, and with what result, 
 he pursued his holy calling. Dwell upon his blame- 
 less character, his spotless reputation, and the esteem 
 in which he was held by the churches of Christ. 
 Remember how often he prayed rather to die than 
 be permitted to live and sin. He was faithful unto 
 death, and laid down his office, only with his life. 
 None blush for him, but all weep for themselves, 
 before his monument. Even the tongue of slander 
 is silent at that hallowed spot, and dares not utter in 
 whisper a single insinuation. Oh this is a balm to a 
 widow's heart. And then look at the fruits of his 
 ministry. Some have preceded him to glory, and are 
 12* 
 
138 SCRIPTURE. 
 
 his joy and crown of rejoicing in the presence of 
 Christ, while others are following him on to add new 
 gems to his diadem, and new delights to him that is 
 to wear it. Dwell not only on what he was, and 
 what he is, hut on what you were to him : how you 
 aided him in his ministry ; not indeed by writing 01 
 preaching his sermons, but by sustaining that noble 
 heart, which dictated all his labours, and by the 
 impulses and energies of which all were sustained. 
 Call to recollection, how he reposed in your faithful 
 bosom the cares of office, and asked your counsels 
 amidst its intricacies; how when he came home 
 agitated and perplexed, you calmed the perturbations 
 of his spirit; how when discouraged, you cheered 
 him; how you suggested to him subjects for his 
 pulpit ministrations, which had occurred to you in 
 your own meditations, and which thus became the 
 means in his lips of saving souls from death ; how 
 you aided him in his visitations and ministrations to 
 the sick, the poor, and distressed ; and how by your 
 earnest prayers, you brought down upon his labours 
 the dew of heaven ; and thus, by all these means, 
 were a help meet for him in his high embassy to a 
 revolted world. These efforts, it is sadly true, are 
 all suspended by his death, but to have made them 
 is a precious remembrance. Such recollections fall 
 not to the lot of ordinary women, and ought to be a 
 balm for your wounded heart. 
 
 If you are happy amidst the people to whom your 
 husband ministered, remain where you are; linger 
 
EXAMPLES. 139 
 
 still at the pulpit in which he laboured, and at the 
 grave where he sleeps : if they love his memory, and 
 are kind to you and your children for your own 
 sakes, as well as for his, where can you be more 
 happy on earth, than in the scene of his living exer- 
 tions and in the vicinity of his tomb. Where will 
 his precious name be so frequently and so respectfully 
 mentioned, and where will sympathy be so fully felt 
 and so tenderly expressed, as among the people of his 
 charge. But, then, let wisdom and circumspection 
 characterise your conduct. A minister's widow has 
 sometimes aided, not a little, to disquiet the mind of 
 his successor, and to trouble the circle of his friends. 
 Excite no suspicions, awaken no jealousies, institute 
 no comparisons. Do not wish for influence ; be not 
 the centre of a party; attempt not to guide the 
 opinions of others ; and avoid all private interference 
 and meddling with church affairs. The importance 
 of this, is in exact proportion to the esteem in which 
 you are held. There are few women so weak, as to 
 have no power to do mischief, for it is surprising and 
 grievous to find what insignificance, when combined 
 with restlessness, and a meddling propensity, may be 
 a source of annoyance, and a cause of disquiet, espe- 
 cially in small communities. In some cases where 
 for instance, there may not be the best understanding* 
 nor much good feeling, between the widow and the 
 flock; or where a part only of that flock might 
 happen to be attached to her, and not equally attach- 
 ed to the new pastor and his wife; prudence and 
 
140 SCRIPTURE 
 
 propriety combine to make it her duty, if not pre- 
 vented by circumstances, to retire. It is a deep blot 
 on the Christian reputation of any minister's widow 
 to remain in a church, only to be a nucleus of 
 dissatisfaction and discontent, and to aid in disturb- 
 ing, perhaps, dividing the society, whose peace, was 
 one great object of her husband's life. 
 
 After all, however, it must be confessed, that 
 where the widow and family of a minister, meet with 
 neglect, from the congregation, in which he laboured, 
 and some such cases do occur, both in the Church of 
 England, and amongst the Dissenters, the fault is, in 
 many cases, to be traced up to a want of generosity 
 on the part of the people. 
 
EXAMPLES. 141 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE WIDOW CASTING IN HER TWO MITES INTO THE 
 TREASURY. 
 
 Illustrating the character of the poor but liberal 
 widow. 
 
 ''And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld how 
 the people cast money into the treasury: and many that 
 were rich cast in much. And there came a certain poor 
 widow and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing. 
 And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them, 
 Verily I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast 
 more ?n, than all they which have cast into the treasury: 
 for all they did cast in of their abundance ; but she of her 
 want did cast in all that she had, even all her living." 
 Mark xii. 4144. 
 
 THE treasury here spoken of, we should suppose, 
 was a large chest fixed near the entrance to the 
 temple and divided into different compartments, for 
 
142 CHRISTIAN 
 
 receiving the offerings of the people. These were 
 appropriated to the purpose for which the donor 
 presented them ; some for the repairs of the building ; 
 others for the expences of public worship ; and some, 
 perhaps for the relief of the poor. The chest was 
 well placed. Piety and liberality should be always 
 associated. Piety should stimulate charity; charity 
 should be the fruit of piety. On one occasion, Christ 
 placed himself opposite this receptacle of benevolence, 
 to watch the offerings of the people. The affluent 
 passed on and deposited their wealth ; for " they cast 
 in much." This is so far to their credit; they who 
 possess much, should give much. God expects it, 
 yea, demands it. Among the richer worshippers 
 came one who united in her circumstances the double 
 affliction of poverty and widowhood. She, of course, 
 will offer nothing. She needs to receive, rather than 
 to impart. All she has to bestow, it may be pre- 
 sumed, is her good wishes. But, no ; her hand is 
 not empty. She drops two mites a farthing. Per- 
 haps the smallness of the sum excited a smile^of 
 contempt from some proud proprietor, as he followed 
 her, and magnified, by contrast, the amount of his 
 own contribution. But there was another eye that 
 watched the widow's offering, and another mind that 
 drew a contrast. And Christ called his disciples 
 unto him and said, " Verily I say unto you, that this 
 poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which 
 have cast into the treasury." Yes, there is the scale 
 on which the Saviour estimates the amount of our 
 
EXAMPLES. 143 
 
 contributions to the cause of religion and humanity; 
 not abstractly by the sum given, but by the sum 
 given in proportion to the wealth possessed. A mite 
 from one, is vastly, incalculably more, than a pound 
 from another. Much and little, are relative terms. 
 That would be munificence in one, which would be 
 niggardliness in another. No commendation had been 
 pronounced on the gifts of the wealthy; for they 
 had, perhaps, after all, given little compared with 
 what they retained ; but this widow's offering has 
 immortalised her. She gave all she had. We do 
 not stay to enquire about the prudence of her con- 
 tribution, whether it was proper to bestow her last 
 farthing; doubtless there were some circumstances 
 in her case which justified the act, and with which 
 the Saviour was acquainted. There were, perhaps, 
 no needy children, whose wants should have remind- 
 ed her that charity begins at home : perhaps it was 
 a thank-offering for some special mercy received: 
 some gracious support in one of those troubles, which 
 widows, and especially poor widows, only know. At 
 any rate, the gift and its principle, attracted the no- 
 tice, and drew forth the eulogy of the Saviour. It 
 was but a farthing, but that farthing was as much a 
 manifestation of her disposition, as David's almost 
 countless amount of gold, was of his. 
 
 Our Lord Jesus Christ still holds his seat opposite 
 the treasury of the temple, and watches from his 
 throne in heaven, the offerings of those who give to 
 the cause of religion and humanity. His celestia 1 
 
144 SCRIPTURE 
 
 glory has diminished nothing of his condescending 
 regard to the beneficence of his people. It should 
 be our aim in all the good we do> to approve our- 
 selves to his all-seeing eye, both by the purity of our 
 motives, and the amount of our donations. Alas, 
 what are we the better for the notice of those 
 perishing and impotent eyes, which can only view 
 the outside of our actions ; or for that word of ap- 
 plause which vanisheth on the lips of the speaker ? 
 Thine eye, Lord, is piercing and retributive. As 
 to see thee, is perfect happiness, so to be seen of 
 thee, is true contentment and glory. 
 
 It may be fairly inferred from this passage, that 
 the Lord Jesus, while he beholds with favour the 
 gifts of all, receives with special acceptance the 
 offerings of the poor widow. It is often the sorrow 
 of such, in. this age of Christian missions, that they 
 cannot share in the glorious undertaking of convert- 
 ing the world to Christ. In happier times, when 
 the candle of the Lord shone in their tabernacle, and 
 the light of prosperity irradiated their path, they too 
 had something to give, and delighted to give it, to 
 pour the blessings of salvation on this dark earth : 
 but now they feel shut out from the feast of bene- 
 volence, and denied all fellowship in the great work 
 of evangelising the nations; for they have nothing 
 to give. Nothing ? " Nothing," you reply, " worth 
 my giving, or any society's receiving !" Is that the 
 language of pride, despondency, or parsimony? Can 
 you not, then, stoop to give a penny, after you have 
 
EXAMPLES. 145 
 
 had the privilege of giving a pound ? Do you blush 
 to offer the copper, after the silver and gold have 
 glittered in your hand, as you approached the treas- 
 ury ? woman, cast away that feeling, and carry 
 your two mites, and if given "with a glad heart 
 and free," that little offering will draw upon it a 
 more benignant smile from the Lord of all, than 
 ever he bestowed upon your costlier gifts in the 
 days of your prosperity. If you are ashamed to 
 give it, he is not ashamed to receive it, nor back- 
 ward to reward it. Ashamed of your little ! Why 
 it is relatively more than the hundreds of the rich. 
 It is all self-denial, and sacrifice, and generous zeal. 
 
 "In the obscurity of retirement, amid the squalid 
 poverty, and tb<* revolting privations of a cottage, it 
 has often been my lot to witness scenes of magna- 
 nimity and self-denial, as much beyond the belief, as 
 the practice of the great ; an heroism borrowing no 
 support, either from the gaze of the many, or the 
 admiration of the few, yet, flourishing amidst ruins, 
 and on the confines of the grave; a spectacle as 
 stupendous in the moral world, as the falls of the 
 Missouri, in the natural; and like that mighty ca- 
 taract, doomed to display its grandeur, only where 
 there are no eyes to apprehend its magnificence." 
 Yes, there is an eye that looks on both, but with 
 more admiration on the little offering of benevolence 
 that drops unheeded and unheard by man, into the 
 receptacle of mercy, than on the river that falls with 
 the roar of thunder into the basin of its mighty 
 13 
 
146 SCRIPTURE 
 
 waters. Think of aged widows sacrificing the 
 sugar of their tea, and poor men giving up the small 
 portion of their heverage at dinner, to save a mite 
 or two for the missionary cause : how little are 
 the offerings of the rich, though the announcement 
 of their hundreds from the platform makes the 
 building to shake with applause, compared with the 
 penny of such self-denying friends to the cause as 
 these, but whose contributions find their way in 
 silence, to the mighty agregate of funds. Ashamed, 
 my friends ! Your mites are the richest trophies 
 of your cause ; and if it were possible to divide the 
 results of our success, and apportion so much use- 
 fulness to each particular contribution of property, 
 we should find, perhaps, the richest allotment as- 
 signed to the widow's farthing. 
 
 Is there a less worthy motive, that holds back 
 your slender offering ? Is there a feeling of grudg- 
 ing ? A reasoning in this strain, " Surely they can- 
 not take the poor widow's penny for the cause of 
 missions." Certainly not, unless she feels it to be 
 one of poverty's deepest woes, to have nothing to 
 give to such an object, and would esteem herself 
 unhappy, if her little contributions were despised. 
 Have you nothing then to give for widows poorer 
 than yourself? "Poorer than myself," you ex- 
 claim, in a tone of indignant surprise, " who can be 
 poorer than I am ?" I answer, the Pagan woman, 
 left forlorn and desolate, without a Bible, a sabbath, 
 or a minister, to direct her to the widow's God : and 
 
EXAMPLES. 147 
 
 there are millions of such. You have the gospel, 
 which abolishes death, and brings life and immor- 
 tality to light. You can look beyond the grave, and 
 see the orb of celestial day rising in majesty before 
 the eye of Christian hope, and gilding with his 
 glorious effulgence, the dark clouds which collect 
 over the valley of the shadow of death. You hear 
 voices of joy, and sounds of life, floating like heaven- 
 ly music, over the still chambers of mortality. In 
 pity, then, to those who clasp the urn in silent 
 despair, give a little, even of your little, to send them 
 the gospel, which keeps you from sorrowing as 
 otheis which have no hope*. Have compassion on 
 the widows that sit down by the grave of a hus- 
 band, who has gone away in the darkness of pa- 
 ganism, or who still, in some parts of India, are 
 doomed to mingle their ashes with his, in that fune- 
 ral pile, the flame of which is kindled by the hand 
 of a first-born son. Is there not, then, a widow far 
 more wretched than yourself, for whom the scant 
 penny of poverty, or the two mites of all but abso- 
 lute destitution, should be consecrated to God. 
 
143 SCRIPTURE 
 
 CHAPTER V . 
 
 WIDOW OF NAIN. 
 
 Addressed to Widows who are called to lose their 
 Children also. 
 
 * And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city 
 called Nain ; and many of his disciples went with him, 
 and much people. Now when he came nigh to the gate of 
 the city, behold there was a dead man carried out, the 
 only son of his mother, and she was a widow: and much 
 people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw 
 her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep 
 not. And he came and touched the bier ; and they that 
 bore him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say 
 unto thee, arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began 
 to speak. And he delivered him to his mother." Luke, 
 vii. 1115. 
 
 TaE mercy of Christ, as it never wanted objects 
 in this sorrowful world, so it was never wearied in 
 relieving them. One day he healed the servant of 
 
EXAMPLES. 149 
 
 /he centurion, upon being earnestly solicited to do it, 
 to show what efficacy there is in the prayer of faith; 
 the next, he restored to life the son of a widow, 
 without being asked, to demonstrate his sovereignty 
 in the bestowment of his favours* One act of benefi- 
 cence seemed only to make him more ready and 
 more willing to perform another ; in this also he is 
 an example to his people, who are not to satisfy 
 themselves with any measure of good works. 
 
 But let us attend to the present instance of his 
 miraculous kindness. As he drew near to a small 
 town called Nain, a funeral procession was coming 
 out at the gate, and was slowly moving towards the 
 place of sepulture, which, with the Jews, was al- 
 ways without the walls of their cities. It was not 
 accidental that the Saviour came up just at that 
 time, but was ordered for the glory of God. Here 
 was a spectacle to move a harder heart than that 
 of Christ. The victim of death was in this in- 
 stance, a yoting man, cut off in the flower of his 
 age, and on that account, a loss to society, but a still 
 heavier loss to that venerable form, which, with the 
 attire of a widow, as well as the low moans of a be- 
 reaved mother, is following the corpse to its last 
 home. It is a short, but simply touching nar- 
 rative, which the historian gives, "Behold, there 
 was a dead man carried out, the only son of his 
 mother, and she was a widow." When the scrip* 
 ture would conevy the most impressive idea of the 
 depth of human sorrow, it uses this form of speech, 
 13* 
 
150 SCRIPTURE 
 
 "As one that is in bitterness for an only son." 
 There it is before us, in that forlorn widow. It is 
 afflictive to see a loving couple following an only 
 child to the grave ; but then, they consider, as with 
 tearful eyes they look upon each, that there might 
 have been a grief still harder to be borne, than even 
 this. "Thank God," they exclaim, "we are spared 
 to each other," and thus they find, even at the 
 opening grave of an only child, a supporting thought 
 in the presence of each other. But here is a case in 
 which there is no one to share the grief, and sup- 
 port the fainting heart of this sorrowful woman : 
 her husband is already in the grave, and her son, 
 her only son, is about to be laid on the coffin of his 
 father. At this juncture the Son of God drew 
 nigh: 
 
 His heart is made of tenderness, 
 His bowels melt with love. 
 
 The widow's sorrows touched that heart: and he 
 said to her, "Woman, weep not." Oh if she was 
 not too much absorbed in grief to him, what must 
 she have thought of such an injunction : " Who has 
 cause to weep if it is not I. If tears are ever in 
 season, they are now. Stranger cease to taunt me 
 with such an exhortation, unless you can restore to 
 my widowed arms, the child that lies sleeping 
 there in death." She knew not who it was that 
 spoke to her, but she shall soon know to her unut- 
 terable joy. As the Lord of life and death he 
 
EXAMPLES. >51 
 
 arrests the coffin, and frees the prisoner. r Young 
 man, I say unto thee, arise." That is the voice that 
 shall one day burst every tomb, call up our vanished 
 bodies, from those elements into which they are re- 
 solved, and raise them out of their beds of dust, to 
 glory, honour, and immortality. The grave shall 
 restore all it receives, whether that grave be in the 
 sea, in the dry land, in the forest, the wilderness, 
 or in the crowded cemetery. "Why should it be 
 thought a thing incredible that God shall raise the 
 dead?" It is no harder for the Almighty word, 
 which gave being unto all things, to say, "Let 
 them be restored," than " let them be made." The 
 sleeping youth obeyed the mandate, rose upon the 
 bier, cast off his grave clothes, descended, and threw 
 himself into the arms of his astonished, enraptured, 
 and overwhelmed mother. Blessed type of that 
 wondrous scene just alluded to, when at the sound 
 of the last trumpet, this mortal shall put on im- 
 mortality, and this corruptible shall put on incor- 
 ruption, and death shall be swallowed up in victory. 
 I attempt not, for who could succeed in the effort, 
 to pourtray the mother's joy, and her renewed inter- 
 course with her lost child : all she could find com- 
 posure enough to say, was " Rojoice with me, for 
 this my son was dead, and is alive again !" 
 
 I now turn to those who are appointed to bear like 
 sorrows, without the immediate prospect, or the hope 
 of her relief; I mean those widows, and such there 
 are, who have been called to part from an only child. 
 
152 SCRIPTURE. 
 
 Forlorn, indeed, is your situation desolate your 
 house bereaved your heart of its last earthly hope. 
 Not to sympathise with you, not to concede the 
 greatness of your calamity, would be the most cruel 
 insensibility, such as I pray God to preserve me from. 
 
 But stop, is all dead ? Your husband is dead, your 
 parents are dead, your children are dead but is not 
 God alive is not Christ alive is not the bible alive ? 
 Has the tomb swallowed up all ? No. Be this your 
 exultation, " He lives and blessed be my rock, and 
 let the God of my salvation be exalted." True, you 
 cannot expect that the power of Christ will be 
 exerted, at least, till the resurrection, to call your only 
 child from the grave : but the same heart that pitied 
 the widow of Nain, pities you. Jesus sees you as 
 certainly, and compassionates you as tenderly as he 
 did her, although his compassion may not be exerted 
 in precisely the same manner. 
 
 Perhaps that only son was the last thing that stood 
 between you and the Saviour to detain your heart 
 from him* You had not been weaned from the world 
 till he was taken. You still sought your happiness 
 on earth. Your whole soul was bound up in that 
 child. Even for God and Christ, you had no supremo 
 love, while he lived : and as there was a purpose of 
 eternal mercy to be fulfilled, by the death of that 
 child, it pleased God to remove him. You would 
 not come to Christ Avhile that obstacle was in the 
 way, and therefore God displaced it : now, the way 
 to the cross is all clear. The Saviour has come to 
 
 
EXAMPLES. 153 
 
 the widow, not indeed to raise her son, but to save 
 her soul : not to say to him, " Arise young man ;" but 
 to say to you, "Arise, and be saved." If by the loss 
 of your only son, you should gain the salvation of 
 your immortal soul, you will find a present solace for 
 your sorrows, and an eternal source of gratitude that 
 they were sent. 
 
 But what are you to do without him ? Let God 
 answer that question ; " / will never leave thee, nor 
 forsake thee." Your child was your comforter. Be 
 it so : but is there not a divine comforter, who fre- 
 quently reserves his choicest consolations, for the 
 most disconsolate seasons. Your son was your 
 support. This, I admit, is trying to faith and confi- 
 dence in God. A dependant widow, to lose the only 
 child on whom she leaned for support, seems the last 
 extremity of human destitution. It is in such ex- 
 tremities God loves to put forth his power. He often 
 brings us into a very wilderness, to show us his own 
 all-sufficiency. He strips us of the last comfort, and 
 then says to us, " Now trust in me for every thing." 
 
 There are other considerations which should 
 induce submission even to your melancholy lot. 
 Heavy trials are sometimes sent to prevent heavier 
 ones still. There are calamities, worse than death ; 
 either our own death, or the death of Our nearest 
 friends. It is better to die in honour, than to live in 
 sin and disgrace. How many widows are there 
 whose only sons are breaking their mother's hearts 
 by their misconduct ? Is not many a mother at this 
 
154 SCRIPTURE 
 
 moment exclaiming thus, in her solitude, "0 my 
 child, would God the grave had covered thee, whilst 
 thou wert yet in reputation, and comparative inno- 
 cence ! Alas ! that thou should est have lived to dis- 
 grace thyself, and bring down thy widowed mother's 
 grey hairs in sorrow to the grave !" 
 
 I remember to have read, or heard somewhere, the 
 following anecdote. A widowed mother had an only 
 son, who while yet a youth, was seized with an 
 alarming illness. Her heart was in the greatest 
 tumult of grief at the prospect of his removal. She 
 sent for her minister to pray for her child's recovery. 
 It was his preservation from death that was to be 
 the subject of the minister's petitions, rather than the 
 mother's submission to the will of God. Like a 
 faithful pastor, he begged her to controul her exces- 
 sive grief and solicitude, and resign her son to God's 
 disposal: but to no avail: it seemed as if she neither 
 could nor would give him up. Prayer was to pluck 
 him from the borders of the grave, whether God 
 were willing to spare him or not. Her son lived: 
 the mother with ecstatic joy, received him back, as 
 from the borders of the tomb. He grew to adult age; 
 but it was to die in circumstances ten thousand times 
 more afflictive to the mother's heart, than his earlier 
 removal would have been. As he came to manhood 
 he turned out profligate, extravagant, dishonest. His 
 crimes became capital ; he was detected, tried, con- 
 victed, and sentenced to be hanged: and seven years 
 from the day when that minister prayed for his life, 
 
EXAMPLES. 155 
 
 he had to visit this wretched mother, to be with her, 
 and comfort her, if, indeed, her heart could receive 
 consolation, on the day of his execution. Oh ! widow 
 is there not a heavier calamity than the death, in 
 ordinary circumstances, of an only son? I would not 
 for a moment suggest that it is probable your son 
 would have come to this : but it is possible : or if not 
 to this, yet to something that would have embittered 
 all your future days. Would not this distressed 
 woman, look with envy upon others whose children 
 had died in honour and reputation, and think their 
 affliction not worthy of the name, compared with 
 hers ? Would she not look back with deep compunc- 
 tion upon her own rebellious grief and unwillingness 
 to give up her child at the will of God ? 
 
 Before I close this chapter, I would suggest, that 
 as the death of an only child removes from your 
 widowed heart, the last hope or object of a terrestrial 
 nature, that seemed to give interest to earth, or occu- 
 pation upon it, you should look for objects of another 
 kind: even such as are spiritual, heavenly, and 
 divine. Seek, then, not only for a richer enjoyment 
 of personal religion, as the chief source of consola- 
 tion, but cherish a warmer zeal for its diffusion, as 
 the bes: and happiest occupation that can employ 
 your faculties, or your time. Now that God has 
 taken from you your son, adopt the cause of his Son. 
 Consecrate yourself afresh to the interests of evangel- 
 ical piety. What have you now to do on earth; 
 what is lefi; for you to do ; what can you find to do ; 
 
156 
 
 SCRIPTURE 
 
 but diffuse by your property, if you possess much, 
 and by your personal labours, if you are in health, the 
 benefits of the gospel, the blessings of salvation, to 
 those who are destitute of them ? Live, now, wholly 
 for God, arid the salvation of the human race. Soften 
 the weight of your cross, by making known the glory 
 of the cross of Christ. Instead of retiring into seclu- 
 sion, to nourish woe, to leave your sorrow to prey 
 upon your heart, or to let life fret itself away amidst 
 the indolence of grief, rouse your spirit for holy 
 action. Let your loss be the gain of others, by your 
 employing your leisure for their benefit. Freed from 
 every tie that bound your soul to personal or relative 
 objects, feel at liberty for doing good to others. 
 Active benevolence is the best balm for such wounds 
 as yours. Allow yourself no leisure for dark and 
 melancholy thoughts to collect, or for busy memory 
 to torment you with distressing recollections. Your 
 departed child wants not your property; give it to 
 God ; nor your time, nor your solicitude ; give them 
 to God. In pitying the sorrows of others, you will 
 find a sweet solace for your own. Occupy your lone 
 heart, and hours as lonely as your heart, with schemes 
 of mercy, and purposes of beneficence. If your afflic- 
 tion shall lead to such a result, you may then say of 
 active benevolence, that it is one of 
 
 The best reliefs that mourners have, 
 And makes their sorrows blest. 
 
EXAMPLES. 157 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 ANNA THE PROPHETESS. 
 
 A pattern for aged widows. 
 
 And there was one Anna, a prophetess, the daughter of 
 Phanuel, of the tribe of Aser : she was of a great age, and 
 had lived with an husband seven years from her virginity ; 
 and she was a widow of about fourscore and four years, 
 which departed not from the temple, but served God with 
 fastings and prayers, night and day. And she coming in 
 that instant, gave thanks likewise unto the Lord, and 
 spake of him to all them that looked for redemption in 
 Jerusalem. And when they had performed all things 
 according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, 
 to their own city Nazareth. And the child grew, and 
 waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom ; and the grace 
 of God was upon him. Now his parents went to Jerusalem 
 every year at the feast of the Passover." Luke ii. 36 41. 
 
 THE Holy Spirit of God, while he passes over in 
 silence the names of mighty kings and potentates; 
 14 
 
158 SCRIPTURE 
 
 with all their civil and military achievements, theii 
 battles and their victories, writes the life, and pro- 
 nounces the eulogy of a poor and pious aged widow, 
 of whom the world knew little and cared less, to 
 preserve her memory to the end of time, and to show 
 how grateful to him such a kind of life is. Anna was 
 one among the few who, in that dark degenerate age, 
 preserved the light of true piety from being quite 
 extinct, and who waited for the consolation of Israel. 
 Having lost her husband, after a short union of seven 
 years, she continued a widow ever afterwards; and 
 was eighty-four years of age at the time of our Lord's 
 birth. Gifted with the spirit of prophecy, she deliv- 
 ered the messages of God to the few who were 
 disposed to receive them, and spake of Him that was 
 to come, who should bring deliverance, for his people. 
 Her abode was in one of the dwellings which sur- 
 rounded the temple, and her sole employment devo- 
 tion. She had long been dead to the world, and the 
 world to her; and, with her heart in heaven, she had 
 neither interest nor hope upon earth. It was her 
 privilege, as it was of good old Simeon, before she 
 closed her eyes on things terrestrial, to see Him of 
 whom the prophets spake. Having uttered her 
 gratitude that the light had not departed from her 
 eyes, till she had seen the Lord, she confessed him 
 before others, and commended him to their regards. 
 Happy saint, to see this new-born Saviour as the star 
 of thy evening ; thou hast lived to good purpose, in 
 thus having thy existence prolonged, to welcome to 
 
EXAMPLES. 159 
 
 our world, him who came to be ;its Redeemer : and 
 now what can induce c\ wish to remain longer from 
 thy Father's house ? Thou mayest be willing to lay 
 down thy tabernacle and thy widowhood, and go to 
 that world, where thou shall flourish in the vigour of 
 immortal youth. 
 
 And now, leaving Anna, I turn to the aged widow, 
 who has little to do but to wait and watch for the 
 coming of her Lord. Mother in Israel, I address you 
 with sentiments of reverent respect, while I call 
 upon you to indulge the reflections, and perform the 
 duties, appropriate to your circumstances. Your 
 age, connected with your widowhood, renders you 
 an object of deep interest. You have outlived, not 
 only the husband, but the friends, of your youth. As 
 regards those who started with you in life, you are 
 alone in the world ; and you sometimes feel a sadness 
 come over you, because there are none who can talk 
 with you of the scenes of your childhood and youth, 
 which are as a tale written only in your own memory. 
 Spend the evening of your clays, in adoring the God 
 that has kept you thus long, and in admiring the 
 varied displays of his attributes, and the rich and 
 seasonable communications of his grace, which it has 
 been your privilege to enjoy. From what dangers 
 he has rescued you amidst what temptations he 
 has succored you through what difficulties he has 
 conducted you under what trials he has supported 
 you arid what mercies he has showered upon you, 
 during a widowhood of thirty, forty, or fifty years ! 
 
160 SCRIPTURE 
 
 How much of his power, wisdom, patience, faithful- 
 ness, and love, have you seen in all these varied 
 scenes, through which you have heen called to pass ! 
 Let it be the employment and delight of your soul, 
 in the long evening of your life, to retrace, with 
 gratitude and admiration, the wondrous course and 
 journey of your existence. When by infirmity of 
 body, you are shut out from the public ordinances of 
 religion, and the communion of the saints; when 
 through failing sight you can no longer read the 
 Word of God, and you can only think upon its con- 
 tents, dwell upon the past with thanksgiving and love. 
 When you became a widow, perhaps early in life, you 
 trembled, and asked, " How am I to be sustained ?" 
 and lo ! there you are, a widow of three-score years 
 and ten, or fourscore, acknowledging to the glory of 
 God, that he has never left you, nor forsaken you. 
 
 And now, during the remainder of your days, and 
 of your widowhood, withdraw your regards from this 
 world, and prepare for that glory, on the verge of 
 which you are now living. Almost every tie to 
 earth is cut, or hangs very loose about your heart. 
 Heaven has been accumulating its treasures, and 
 multiplying its attractions for many years, arid earth 
 growing poorer and poorer, till one should suppose it 
 has scarcely any thing now left to make you, as you 
 retire from it, cast one lingering longing look behind. 
 Let it be seen that you are dwelling on the border 
 land, waiting and longing to pass over. Let it not 
 distress you, if you cannot be so vigorous in the 
 
EXAMPLES. 161 
 
 service of God, as you once were. Do not be cast 
 down, if you cannot hear with the same attention- 
 pray with the same length, fixedness of thought, and 
 fervour of emotion; or that you cannot remember 
 with the same power and accuracy, as you once did. 
 It is the decay of nature, rather than the decline of 
 grace, and your divine Lord, will make the same 
 kind excuse for you, which he once did for his slum- 
 bering disciples, and say, " The spirit indeed is 
 willing, but the flesh is weak." Be it your aim, in a 
 peculiar sense, to live by faith. You must have been 
 long since weaned, or ought to have been, from 
 living upon frames and feelings. Your frames and 
 feelings have far less of liveliness than they once had, 
 and you must be brought to a simpler and firmer 
 reliance upon the faithfulness and unchangeableness 
 of God. You must rest upon the simple promise, and 
 rely upon the pure and unmixed word. Aged saint, 
 believe, believe : hold on to the end by faith. By 
 faith lay hold of God's strength, to support your 
 faltering steps, and sustain you to the end. 
 
 Be as cheerful as you can, for the smiles of an 
 aged Christian, happy in the Lord, are as beautiful as 
 the oblique rays of the setting sun, of a midsummer's 
 day. Yes, though an aged widow, apparently forlorn 
 and desolate, send forth notes of cheerful praise. 
 Like good old Anna, who when she came in and saw 
 the Lord, gave thanks, and spake of Christ to those 
 around ; so do you. Encourage the younger widows 
 to put their trust in God. Tell them how he has ap- 
 14* 
 
162 SCRIPTURE 
 
 peared for you. Bear testimony for him, and remind 
 them he is the same yesterday, to-day and for ever. 
 
 Let it appear to all who come round you, that 
 though God sees fit to detain you upon earth, your 
 affections have gone on before you into heaven; 
 that your heart is dead, though your body lives; 
 that though you are willing to wait all the days of 
 your appointed time, till your change comes, that 
 still the coming of the change will be a joyful 
 moment. It is an unseemly sight, to behold an 
 aged widow clinging to earth, even when its at- 
 tractions, one should think, are gone; and loving 
 the world, when its charms are all faded, and it is 
 but the skeleton of what it was. 
 
 But, at the same time, let there be no impatience 
 to be gone. Your husband is dead; perhaps your 
 children also, and there be few in whom your heart 
 takes a deep interest. You can see no reason why 
 you should linger and loiter another hour in the 
 world, which is one vast sepulchre, where all that 
 was dear to you lies buried, and why, therefore, 
 should such a tomb be your dwelling-place? Just 
 because it is God's will to keep you here. Let 
 there be no peevish wishes after death no querulous 
 complaints of life. It may be you are dependent, 
 and are afraid you are burden to your friends ; and 
 this adds to your impatience to be gone but strive 
 against it. God loves his children too well to keep 
 them one moment longer from his house and home 
 above, than is best for his glory and their happiness, 
 
THIRD PART. 
 
 LETTERS TO AND FROM WIDOWS. 
 
 LETTERS TO WIDOWS. 
 
 THE first which I shall introduce is an extract of 
 a letter from the Rev. John Howe, to Lady Rachel 
 Russell, shortly after the execution of her husband. 
 The whole letter is too long for insertion, but is 
 well worthy of perusal, being one of the noblest and 
 most pathetic pieces of epistolary composition in our 
 language. 
 
 " MADAM, 
 
 * * * "It is, then, upon the whole, most 
 manifest, that no temporary affliction whatsoever, 
 upon one who stands in special relation to God, as 
 a reconciled (and which is consequent an adopted) 
 person, though attended with the most aggravating 
 circumstances, can justify such a sorrow, so deep or 
 so continued, as shall prevail against, and shut out 
 a religious holy joy, or hinder it from being the 
 
164 LETTERS TO 
 
 vailing principle in such a one. What can make 
 that sorrow allowable or innocent, what event of 
 Providence, (that can, whatever it is, be no other 
 than an accident to our Christian state,) that shall 
 resist the most natural design and end of Christianity 
 itself? that shall deprave and debase the truly 
 Christian temper, and disobey and violate most ex- 
 press Christian precepts ? subvert the constitution 
 of Christ's kingdom among men, and turn this earth 
 (the place of God's treaty with the inhabitants of 
 it, in order to their reconciliation to himself, and to 
 the reconciled, the portal and gate of heaven ; yea, 
 and where the state of the very worst and most 
 miserable has some mixture of good in it, that 
 makes the evil of it less than that of hell) into a 
 mere hell to themselves, of sorrow without mix- 
 ture, and wherein shall be nothing but weeping and 
 wailing* 
 
 The cause of your sorrow, madam, is exceeding 
 great. The causes of your joy are inexpressibly 
 greater. You have infinitely more left than you 
 have lost. Doth it need to be disputed whether 
 God be better and greater than man ? or more to 
 be valued, loved, and delighted in? and whether 
 an eternal relation be more considerable than a tem- 
 porary one ? Was it not your constant sense in your 
 best outward state? l Whom have I in heaven but 
 thee, God ; and whom can I desire on earth in 
 comparison of thee !' Herein the state of your lady- 
 ship's r-ase is still the same, (if /ou cannot rather 
 
WIDOWS. 165 
 
 with greater clearness, and with less hesitation pro- 
 nounce those latter words). The principal causes 
 of your joy are immutable, such as no supervening 
 thing can altar. You have lost a most pleasant, 
 delectable earthly relative. Doth the blessed God 
 hereby cease to be the best and most excellent good? 
 Is his nature changed ? his everlasting covenant re- 
 versed and annulled ? which ' is ordered in all things 
 and sure,' and is to be all your salvation and all your 
 desire, ' whether he make your house on earth to 
 grow or not to grow.' That sorrow which exceeds 
 the proportion of its cause, compared with the re- 
 maining true and real causes of rejoicing, is, in that 
 excess, causeless ; that is, that excess of it wants a 
 cause such as can justify or afford defence unto it. 
 ******.******. * 
 
 " Such as he hath pardoned, accepted, and pre- 
 pared for himself, are to serve and glorify him in an 
 higher and more excellent capacity, than they ever 
 could in this wretched world of ours, and where- 
 in they have themselves the highest satisfaction. 
 When the blessed God is pleased in having attained 
 and accomplished the end and intendments of his 
 own boundless love, too great to be satisfied with 
 the conferring of only temporary favours in this im- 
 perfect state, and they are pleased in partaking the 
 full effects of that love ; who are we, that we should 
 be displeased ? or that we should oppose our satis- 
 faction to that of the glorious God, and his glorified 
 creature? Therefore, madam, whereas you cannot 
 
166 LETTERS TO 
 
 avoid to think much on this subject, and to have the 
 removal of that imcomparable person, for a great 
 theme of your thoughts, I do only propose most 
 humbly to your honour, that you would not confine 
 them to the sadder and darker part of that theme. 
 It hath also a bright side ; and it equally belongs to 
 it, to consider whither he is gone, and to whom, as 
 whence and from whom. Let, I beseech you, your 
 mind be more exercised in contemplating the glories 
 of that state your blessed consort is translated unto, 
 which will mingle pleasure and sweetness with the 
 bitterness of your afflicting loss, by giving you a 
 daily intellectual participation, through the exercise 
 of faith and hope, in his enjoyments. He cannot de- 
 scend to share with you in your sorrows; you may 
 thus every day ascend and partake with him in his 
 joys. He is a pleasant subject to consider. A pre- 
 pared spirit made meet for an inheritance with them 
 that are sanctified, and with the saints in light, now 
 entered into a state so con-natural, and wherein it 
 finds every thing most agreeable to itself. How 
 highly grateful is it to be united with the true cen- 
 tre, and to come home to the Father of spirits ! To 
 consider how pleasant a welcome, how joyful an 
 entertainment he hath met with above ! How de- 
 lighted an associate he is with the general assem- 
 bly, the innumerable company of angels, and the 
 spirits of just men made perfect ! How joyful an 
 homage he continually |:ays to the throne of the 
 celestial King ! 
 
WIDOWS. 167 
 
 ""Will your ladyship think that an hard saying 
 of our departing Lord to his mournful disciples, * If 
 ye loved me, ye would rejoice, that I said I go to 
 the Father; for my Father is greater than I?' As 
 if he had said, he sits enthroned in higher glory than 
 you can frame any conception of, by beholding me 
 in so mean a condition on earth. We are as re- 
 mote, and as much short m our thoughts as to the 
 conceiving the glory of the supreme King, as a peas- 
 ant, who never saw any thing better than his own 
 cottage, from conceiving the splendour of the most 
 glorious prince's court. But if that faith, which is 
 the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence 
 of things not seen, be much accustomed to its proper 
 work and business the daily delightful visiting and 
 viewing the glorious invisible regions ; if it be often 
 conversant in those vast and spacious tracts of pure 
 and brightest light, and amongst the holy inhabitants 
 that replenish them ; if it frequently employs itself 
 iu contemplating their comely order, perfect har- 
 mony, sublime wisdom, unspotted purity, most fer- 
 vent mutual love, delicious conversation with one 
 another, and perpetual pleasant consent in their 
 adoration and observance of their eternal King ! who 
 is there to whom it would not be a solace to think I 
 have such and such friends and relatives, some, per- 
 haps, as dear as my own life, perfectly well pleased, 
 and happy among them ! How can your love, 
 madam so generous a love towards so deserving 
 an object! how can it but more fervently sparkle 
 
168 LETTERS TO 
 
 in joy, for his sake, than dissolve in tears for your 
 own? 
 
 " Nor should such thoughts excite over-hasty im- 
 patient desires of following presently into heaven, 
 but to the endeavours of serving God more cheer- 
 fully on earth for our appointed time : which I 
 earnestly desire your ladyship would apply yourself 
 to, as you would not displease God, who is your 
 only hope, nor be cruel to yourself, nor dishonour 
 the religion of Christians, as if they had no other 
 consolations than this earth can give, and earthly 
 power take from them. Your ladyship (if any one) 
 would be loth to do any thing unworthy of your 
 family and parentage. Your highest alliance is to 
 that Father and family above, whose dignity and 
 honour are, I doubt not, of highest account with 
 you. 
 
 "I multiply words, being loth to lose my design; 
 and shall only add that consideration which cannot 
 but be valuable with you upon his first proposal, 
 who had all the advantages imaginable to give it 
 its full weight ; I mean that of those dear pledges 
 left behind. My own heart even bleeds to think of 
 the case of those sweet babes, should they be be- 
 reaved of their other parent too. And even your 
 continued visible dejection would be their unspeak- 
 able disadvantage. You will always naturally create 
 in them a reverence of you : and I cannot but ap- 
 prehend how the constant mien, aspect, and deport- 
 ment of such a parent will insensibly influence the 
 
WIDOWS. 169 
 
 temper of dutiful children ; and, if that be sad and 
 despondent, depress their spirits, blunt and take off the 
 edge and quickness upon which their future usefulness 
 and comfort will much depend. Were it possible 
 their now glorious father should visit and inspect 
 you, would you not be troubled to behold a frown in 
 that bright serene face ? You are to please a more 
 penetrating eye, which you will best do by putting 
 on a temper and deportment suitable to your weighty 
 charge and duty; and to the great purposes for which 
 God continues you in the world, by giving over un- 
 necessary solitude and retirement, which, though it 
 pleases, doth really prejudice you, and is more than 
 you can bear. Nor can any rules of decency require 
 more. Nothing that is necessary and truly Chris- 
 tain, ought to be reckoned unbecoming. David's 
 example is of too great authority to be counted a 
 pattern of indecency. The God of heaven lift up 
 the light of his countenance upon you, and thereby 
 put gladness into your heart; and give you to ap- 
 prehend him saying to you, " Arise and walk in the 
 light of the Lord.'" 
 
 I shall next introduce two of the most extra- 
 ordinary letters to be found in the page of history, 
 both of which evince such a triumph of faith over 
 the feelings of humanity, as to be admirably adapted 
 to instruct and comfort all that mourn. 
 
 The Rev. Christopher Love, was a Presbyterian 
 minister during the Commonwealth, a member of 
 15 
 
170 LETTERS TO 
 
 the Westminster Assembly of Divines, and one of 
 the London ministers who united in a protest against 
 the death of Charles the First. He was afterwards 
 engaged, with many others, in a scheme to forward 
 the return of Charles the Second to England. AL 
 correspondence with the exiled monarch, having been 
 declared treason by the Act of Parliament, Mr. Love, 
 upon the detection of the plot, was tried, convicted, 
 and condemned as a traitor. In his conduct, what- 
 ever might be thought of it by others, he was 
 influenced by conscientious motives, for all accounts 
 concur, in bearing testimony to his character as an 
 eminent Christian. Great intercessions were made 
 to the Parliament for the preservation of his life. 
 These all failed, and he was beheaded on Tower Hill. 
 On the day before his death, his wife addressed to 
 him the following letter : * 
 
 ".' My heavenly dear, 
 
 " I call thee so, because God hath put 
 heaven into thee before he hath taken thee to heaven. 
 Thou now beh oldest God, Christ, and glory, as in a 
 glass; but to-morrow heaven's gates will be opened, 
 and thou shalt be in the full enjoyment of all those 
 glories which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
 neither can the heart of man understand. God hath 
 now swallowed up thy heart in the thoughts of 
 
 * Lives of the Puritans, by Rev. B. Brook, vol. iii. p. 129 
 132. 
 
WIDOWS. 171 
 
 heaven ; but ere long thou shalt be swallowed up in 
 the enjoyment of heaven! And no marvel there 
 should be such quietness and calmness in thy spirit, 
 whilst thou art sailing in this tempestuous sea, 
 because thou perceivest by the eye of faith, a haven 
 of rest, where thou shalt be richly laden with all the 
 glories of heaven ! 0, lift up thy heart with joy, when 
 thou layest thy dear head on the block, in the 
 thoughts of this, that thou art laying thy head to rest 
 in thy Father's bosom; which, when thou dost 
 awake, shall be crowned, not with an earthly, fading 
 crown, but with an heavenly, eternal crown of glory ! 
 Be not troubled when thou shalt see a guard of 
 soldiers triumphing with their trumpets about thee ; 
 but lift up thy head, and thou shalt behold G-od with 
 a guard of holy angels triumphing to receive thee to 
 glory ! Be not dismayed at the scoffs and reproaches 
 thou mayest meet with in thy short way to heaven ; 
 for, be assured, God will not only glorify thy body 
 and soul in heaven, but he will also make the memory 
 of thee to be glorious on earth! 
 
 " 0, let not one troubled thought for thy wife and 
 babes rise within thee ! thy God will be our God and 
 our portion. He will be a husband to thy widow, 
 and a father to thy children : the grace of thy God 
 will be sufficient for us. 
 
 " Now, my dear, I desire willingly and cheerfully 
 to resign my right in thee to thy Father and my 
 Father, who hath the greatest interest in thee : and 
 confidant I am, though men have separated us for a 
 
172 LETTERS TO 
 
 time, yet God will ere long bring us together again* 
 where we shall eternally enjoy one another, never to 
 part more ! 
 
 " 0, let me hear how God bears up thy heart, and 
 let me taste of those comforts which support thee, 
 that they may be as pillars of marble to bear up my 
 sinking spirit ! I can write no more. Farewell, 
 farewell, my dear, till we meet where we shall never 
 bid farewell more ; till which time I leave thee in 
 the bosom of a loving, tender-hearted Father ; and so 
 I rest, 
 
 " Till I shall for ever rest in heaven, 
 
 "MAST LOVE." 
 
 " This excellent letter discovers the same triumph 
 over the world in Mrs. Love, which her husband so 
 happily experienced. She was not only surrounded 
 by their three children, but with child of a fourth ; 
 yet she passed over this circumstance in silence ; and 
 though formerly weak in grace, yet she now enjoyed 
 strong confidence and great comfort, and animated 
 her husband by the most encouraging considerations. 
 Thus, 'by faith, out of weakness, she was made 
 strong.' The next morning, being the day on which 
 he suffered, Mr. Love returned ler the following 
 farewell epistle : 
 
 " My most gracious beloved, 
 
 "I am now going from a prison to a 
 palace. I have finished my work; I am now to 
 
WIDOWS. 173 
 
 receive my vrages. I am going to heaven, where 
 there arc two . f my children ; and leaving thee on 
 earth, where l-.jre are three of my babes: those two 
 above need not any care ; but the three below need 
 thine. It comforts me to think two of my children 
 are in the bosom of Abraham, and three of them will 
 be in the arms and care of so tender and godly a 
 mother ! I know thou art a woman of a sorrowful 
 spirit, yet be -comforted. Though thy sorrows be 
 great for thy husband's going out of the world, yet 
 thy pains shall be the less in bringing thy child into 
 the world: thou shalt be a joyful mother, though 
 thou art a sad widow ! God hath many mercies in 
 store for thee : the prayers of a dying husband will 
 not be lost. To my shame I speak it, I never prayed 
 so much for thee at liberty, as I have done in prison. 
 I cannot write more; but I have a few practical 
 counsels to leave with thee, viz. 
 
 " 1. Keep under a sound, orthodox, and soul-search- 
 ing ministry. there are many deceivers gone out 
 into the world; but Christ's sheep know his voice, 
 and a stranger will they not follow. Attend on that 
 ministry which teaches the way of God in truth, and 
 follow Solomon's advice: cease to hear the instruc- 
 tion that causeth to err from ihe way of knowledge. 
 
 " 2. Bring up thy children in the knowledge and 
 admonition of the Lord. The mother ought to be 
 the teacher in the father's absence. The words 
 which his mother taught him. Timothy was instruct- 
 ed by his grand-mother Lois, and his mother Eunice. 
 
174 LETTERS TO 
 
 "3. Pray in thy family daily, that thy dwelling 
 may be in the number of the families that do call 
 upon God. 
 
 " 4. Labour for a meek and quiet spirit, which is 
 in the sight of God of great price. 
 
 "5. Pore not on the comforts thou wantest; but 
 on the mercies thou hast. 
 
 " 6. Look rather to God's end in afflicting, than at 
 the measure and degree of thy afflictions. 
 
 " 7. Labour to clear up thy evidences for heaven, 
 when God takes from thee the comforts of earth ; 
 that, as thy sufferings do abound, so thy consolations 
 in Christ may much more abound. 
 
 " 8. Though it is good to maintain a holy jealousy 
 Oithe deceitfulness of thy heart, yet it is evil for thee 
 to cherish fears and doubts about the truth of thy 
 graces. If ever I had confidence touching the graces 
 of another, I have confidence of grace in thee. I can 
 say of thee, as Peter did of Sylvanus, I am persuaded 
 that this is the grace of God wherein thou standest. 
 Oh, my dear soul, wherefore dost thou doubt, whose 
 heart hath been upright, whose walkings have been 
 holy! I could venture my soul in thy soul's stead. 
 Such confidence have I in thee ! 
 
 " 9. When thou findest thy heart secure, presump- 
 tuous, and proud, then pore upon corruption more 
 than upon grace : but when thou findest thy heart 
 doubting and unbelieving, then look on thy graces, 
 not on thy infirmities. 
 
 " 10. Study the covenant of grace and merits of 
 
WIDOWS. 175 
 
 % 
 
 Christ, and then be troubled if thou canst. Thou art 
 interested in such a covenant that accepts the right- 
 eousness of another, viz. that of Jesus Christ, as if it 
 were our own. Oh my love, rest, rest then in the 
 love of God, in the bosom of Christ ! 
 
 "11. Swallow up thy will in the will of God. It 
 is a bitter cup we are to drink, but it is the cup our 
 Father hath put into our hands. When Paul was to 
 go to suffer at Jerusalem, the Christians could say, 
 The will of the Lord be done. O say thou, when I 
 go to Tower-hill, The will of the Lord be done. 
 
 " 12. Rejoice in my joy. To mourn for me inordi- 
 nately, argues that either thou enviest or suspectest 
 my happiness. The joy of the Lord is my strength. 
 O, let it be thine also ! Dear wife, farewell ! I will 
 call thee wife no more : I shall see thy face no more ; 
 yet I am not much troubled ; for now I am going to 
 meet the bridegroom, the Lord Jesus Christ, to whom 
 I shall be eternally married ! 
 
 "Thy dying, 
 " Yet most affectionate friend till death, 
 
 "CHRISTOPHER LOVE." 
 
 " From the Tower of London, 
 "August 22, 1651, 
 
 " The day of my glorification." 
 
 Widows, read this, and learn submission to the 
 will of God, and heroic fortitude under his afflictive 
 hand. 
 
176 LETTERS TO 
 
 LETTERS FROM WIDOWS. 
 
 From Mrs. Huntington, widow of an American Minister; 
 describing the scene of Mr. Huntington's death, and her 
 own behaviour at the time : a bright proof of the power of 
 prayer. The three following letters of Mrs. Huntington, 
 were extracted by Mr. James, from the admirable memoirs 
 of that lady, by Rev. Dr.Wisner, and published by Crocker 
 and Brewster. We refer the reader to this volume for 
 other letters of deep interest and great value. American 
 Publishers. 
 
 " MR. HUNTINGTON was apprised, by the physician, 
 of my arrival. There was an increase of ten to the 
 number of his pulse upon this intelligence. When I 
 entered the room in which he lay, he was gasping 
 for breath; but his countenance glowed with an 
 expression of tenderness I shall never forget, as he 
 threw open his arms, exclaiming, l My dear wife !' 
 and clasped me, for some moments, to his bosom. I 
 said, with perfect composure, 'My blessed husband, I 
 have come at last.' He replied, 'Yes; and it is 
 infinite mercy to me.' I told him, all I regretted 
 was that I could not get to him sooner. He said, 
 
WIDOWS. 377 
 
 with a tender consideration for my health, which he 
 always valued more than his own, 'I am glad you 
 could not; in your present circumstances it might 
 have been too much for me.' 
 
 "From that time, owing to the insidious nature of 
 his disease, I had considerable hope. I had seen 
 him. I was with him. He was as sensible of my 
 love and of my attentions as ever; and I could not 
 realise the stroke that was impending. Never shall 
 I remember without gratitude the goodness of God in 
 giving me that last week of sweet, though sorrowful 
 intercourse with my beloved husband. 
 
 " The days and nights of solicitude drew near a 
 fatal close. I could not think of his death. At that 
 prospect nature revolted. I felt as if it would be 
 comparatively easy to die for him. But the day 
 before his death, when all spoke encouragement, 1 
 felt we must part. In the bitterness of my soul 1 
 went into the garret. It was the only place I could 
 have without interruption. Never shall I forget that 
 hour. Whether in the body or out, I could scarcely 
 tell. I drew near to God. Such a view of the reality 
 and nearness of eternal things I had never had. It 
 seemed as if I was somewhere with God. I cast my 
 eye back on this life, it seemed a speck. I felt that 
 God was my God, and my husband's God ; that this 
 was enough ; that it was a mere point of ^difference 
 whether he should go to heaven first or I, seeing we 
 should both go so soon. My mind was filled with 
 satisfaction with the government of God. ' Be ye 
 
178 LETTEKS TO 
 
 followers of them who, through faith and patience, 
 inherit the promises,' seemed to be the exhortation 
 given me upon coming back to this world. I do not 
 mean that there were any bodily or sensible appear- 
 ances. But I seemed carried away in the spirit. I 
 pleaded for myself and children travelling through 
 this distant country. It seemed as if I gave them, 
 myself, and husband up entirely ; and it was made 
 sure to me that God would do what was best for 
 us* 
 
 From that time, though nature would have her 
 struggles, I felt that God had an infinite right to do 
 what he pleased with his own; that he loved my 
 husband better than I did ; that if he saw him ripe 
 for his rest, I had no objections to make. All the 
 night he was exercised with expiring sufferings, and 
 7od was pouring into my soul one truth and promise 
 of the gospel after another. I felt it sweet for him 
 to govern. There was a solemn tranquillity filled 
 the chamber of death. It was an hour of extremity 
 to one whom Jesus loved. I felt that He was there, 
 that angels were there, that every agony was sweet- 
 ened and mitigated by One, in whose sight the death 
 of his saints is precious. I felt as if I had gone with 
 the departing spirit to the very utmost boundary of 
 this land of mortals, and as if it would be easier for 
 me to drop the body which confined my soul in its 
 approach towards heaven, than retrace all the way I 
 had gone. When the intelligence was brought to me 
 that the conflict was over, it was good news 1 
 
WIDOWS. 179 
 
 kissed the clay, as pleasantly as I ever did when it 
 was animated by the now departed spirit. I was 
 glad he had got safely home, and that all the steps 
 of his departure were so gently ordered. 
 
 " It would be in vain for me to attempt a descrip- 
 tion of my feelings the next morning. I had never 
 seen such a sun rise before. It beheld me alone. 
 Were I the only created being in the universe, I 
 could not perhaps, have felt very differently. I went 
 into the chamber in which he died. There, on the 
 pillow was the print of his head. The bed of death 
 was just as when it resigned for ever the body of 
 him who was all the world to me. His portmanteau, 
 comb, brush, et cet. lay in sight. God wonderfully 
 supported me. 
 
 " But why do I dwell on a description which even 
 now is almost too much for me ? How did God 
 sustain a creature who was weakness itself! How 
 mercifully he has carried me through all my suc- 
 cessive trials ! Truly it was the Lord's doing : and 
 it is marvellous in my eyes. 
 
 " And now, oh how is it now ? Not so much 
 comfort; labouring with sin; afraid almosi to live 
 in this wicked world; dreading a thousand evils in 
 my present lonely state. But all this is wrong. 
 God hath said, 4 Who shall harm you, if ye be fol- 
 lowers of that which is good ?' How kindly my be- 
 loved husband used to remind of this text!" 
 
180 LETTERS TO 
 
 TO A FRIEND WHO HAD LOST A NEAR RELATION. 
 
 " Your long and confidential letter gave me great 
 pleasure. There is a sympathy in the feeling of 
 persons who have been recently afflicted, which can- 
 not be expected to he found in others; a mutual 
 chord, which, touched, vibrates with a kindred 
 sound. We have not suffered exactly alike; but 
 we have suffered ; and that circumstance has made 
 us love each other better than we did before. 
 
 **^***^***^^** 
 
 "When I view myself, riven asunder, root and 
 branch, not the limbs torn away, but the very body 
 of the tree sundered from top to bottom, nature must 
 feel the parting agonies, must at times, be ready 
 to sink under the consciousness of her dissolution. 
 All this must be to those who have interests to be 
 smitten, friendships to be broken, and hearts to feel. 
 
 Yes, dear E , our hearts have bled. The 
 
 wound inflicted has been deep. We have felt that 
 the stroke was full of anguish, that it went to our 
 very souls. We will not deny that this is all true. 
 We will not please ourselves with the delusion that 
 the deep, deep wound which the hand of God has 
 inflicted, can ever cease to bleed. But, my friend! 
 4 is there not balm in Gilead ? is there not a phy- 
 sician there?' Is not that physician our Saviour: 
 wise to discern, prudent to manage, strong to save? 
 Has not the kind hand which smote so deeply, ac- 
 companied the stroke with many softening, mitigat- 
 
WIDOWS. 181 
 
 ing circumstances ? Oh yes ; I trust we both feei 
 that it is so. It is God who hath afflicted us, the 
 infinitely wise, compassionate, and faithful Jehovah, 
 the Lord our God. And does it not argue great want 
 of confidence in him, if we sink into despondency 
 when he chastises us? Does it not show, either that 
 we think we could manage things better than he can, 
 or that there is something which we have not cor- 
 dially submitted to his disposal ? 
 
 " And now, God, thou art the potter, and we 
 the clay. how this quells the murmurings of self- 
 will ; how it settles the restlessness of the troubled 
 spirit ; how it plucks the sting from the rod of afflic- 
 tion ! God knows best. Precious truth ! It is an 
 anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast, which keeps 
 it from shipwreck, amidst all the storms and tempests 
 of the troubled sea of life. Oh, for a firm, unwaver- 
 ing faith ! This is all that is wanting. With this 
 we may say, 
 
 Cheerful I tread the desert through. 
 
 With this we may rejoice when our beloved friends 
 are taken from the stormy ocean to the peaceful 
 port, from the weary wilderness to the happy home, 
 from the field of conflict to the crown of victory ; 
 and trace with holy courage, our way through the 
 same difficulties to the same glorious recompence of 
 reward. But, ah ! this, a firm unwavering faith, is 
 too often wanting. We miss our temporal comforts. 
 The heart which sympathised in all our pleasures 
 16 
 
J82 LETTERS TO 
 
 and plains, has ceased to beat ; the ear which was 
 always open to listen to our complaints and wishes, 
 is closed; the kind voice of affection and disinter- 
 ested love, is hushed ; the arm which supported us, 
 is withdrawn. It is a chilling thought. Cherished 
 alone, we fe-el its freezing, benumbing influence fast- 
 ening upon all the springs of comfort and hope, and 
 turning every stream of joy into one waste of cold 
 and motionless despair. 
 
 " But, my dear friend, we must not view our trials 
 thus. We must think much and often of the bless- 
 edness of those whose removal we lament, of the 
 perfection of the divine government, of the certainty 
 of the promise, that l all things shall work together 
 for good to them that love God,' of the rapid ap- 
 proach of that hour which will unite us eternally to 
 those in Christ whom we love, of the danger of 
 creature-comforts, and of the suffering life on earth 
 of our glorious High-priest and head, and his assur- 
 ance that it is through much tribulation we must 
 
 enter the kingdom. Oh, my dear E , if we are 
 
 Christians, there is a glorious prospect before us as 
 much of the good things of this life as an infinitely 
 wise and kind Father sees to be best for us, and here- 
 after an eternity of unmingled and ineffable bliss !" 
 
 TO A SISTER-IN-LAW. 
 
 "Boston, Sept. 22, 1819. 
 
 " I received your kind letter, my dear sister, this 
 forenoon. I am Kappy to say I have passed the 
 
WIDOWS, 183 
 
 time, since you left me, much more comfortably than 
 I expected. God is very gracious to me. He gives 
 me such a measure of sweet quietness, as composes 
 and tranquillises my spirits. ' Blessed is the man 
 who trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord 
 is : for he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, 
 and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and 
 shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall 
 be green ; and shall not be careful in the year of 
 drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit.' 
 Sometimes I have fears that the precious promises 
 of God's Word cannot belong to one so vile and re- 
 bellious. But I am generally able to flee to the blood 
 of sprinkling to trust in Him in whom all the 
 promises of God are yea and amen, and to say, 
 1 Lord, thou knowest all things ; thou knowest that 
 I love thee.' i r es, my dear sister, on God's part, all 
 is mercy, mercy ! The world has changed with 
 me. But the memory of the blessed saint is pleas- 
 ant, though mournful to the soul. The prospect of 
 heaven makes the dark shades of my picture orighter. 
 ************* 
 
 "September 25. The desolating stroke my soul 
 was dreading, when I last wrote in this journal has 
 fallen upon me. Yes, it has fallen upon me and I 
 live! What shall I say? The right hand of the 
 Lord doeth valiantly, or I should now have dwell 
 in silence. Wonderful grace ! He that hath loved 
 me bore me through. His everlasting arm was un- 
 der me. He taught and enabled me to say, ' T 
 
184 LETTERS TO 
 
 will be done.' To him be glory. Tbe being I loved 
 better than myself has left me in this wilderness. 
 He on whom I leaned has gone over the Jordan. 
 But another arm, mightier than his, sustains me. I 
 can say, I humbly believe, with truth, ' Nevertheless 
 I am not alone, for God is with me.' And I must 
 again cry, 1 Grace ! grace ! I am a wonder to myself. 
 Oh the infinite grace of God ! A worm is in the 
 furnace and is not consumed ! And must I not love 
 this ' strong Deliverer 1 better than all ? Shall I not 
 cheerfully give up my comforts at his command ? 
 
 " October 3. When I can, I intend writing some 
 of the particulars of my blessed husband's departure, 
 for future satisfaction, should I live. When I look 
 at my loss only, I sink. What I lost in that holy 
 man of God, that amiable companion, that faithful 
 friend, that prudent counsellor, that devoted hus- 
 band, God knows ! What the church has lost, in 
 his eminent consecration of himself to his work, 
 his love to the poor, his compassion to the afflicted, 
 his meekness and humility, his zeal and disinterest- 
 edness, his fervent prayers, his lovely and almost 
 spotless example, God knows! Oh it is pleasant 
 for memory to dwell on the recollection of what he 
 was ! 'Tis a beautiful picture, on which I must ever 
 fasten the eye of my fond remembrance with satis- 
 faction. But that light is removed: put out, I do 
 not say. Oh no ! He lives to die no more. And T 
 am permitted to hope I shall, ere long, go to him, 
 and dwell with him for ever in heaven ! God is car- 
 
WIDOWS. 185 
 
 rying on an infinitely perfect plan of government. 
 The removal of my beloved husband, in the midst 
 of his usefulness, is a part of that plan. Shall I not 
 lay my hand on my mouth, and say, * Thy will be 
 done?'" 
 
 TO A FRIEND WHO HAD LOST HER HUSBAND. 
 
 11 Boston, January 25th, 1820. 
 " My dear Friend and Sister, 
 
 " Ever since that sorrowful event which num- 
 bered me among those who can more emphatically 
 than other classes of mourners, say, 'Lover and friend 
 hast thou put far from me, and mine acquaintance 
 into darkness," I have felt desirous of writing to you. 
 Not because I expected to offer any consolation to 
 your mind, with which it is not already much better 
 acquainted than mine, but from that natural feeling 
 of sympathy, which is excited towards those whose 
 trials are similar to our own. And now that I have 
 taken up my pen, the reflection that my time might 
 be better occupied than in obtruding myself upon 
 you, and thus opening anew the fountains of your 
 grief (if, indeed, they have ever been closed in any 
 measure,) by the recital of my own sufferings, almost 
 induces me to lay it down again. However, I do not 
 mean to pain you, and agonize myself, in this way. 
 Profitable as it may be for common mourners, to 
 dwell often and long upon the circumstances of their 
 bereavements, in order to cherish the impressions 
 which such dispensations may have made on their 
 16* 
 
186 LETTERS TO 
 
 hearts, it is not profitable for us. Such sorrow as 
 ours is in no danger of being suddenly diverted. The 
 danger is on the other side, of its pressing so con- 
 stantly and heavily on the spirit, as to crush the 
 feeble body to the grave. And would it not have 
 been so with us, my dear friend, were it not that the 
 hand of the Lord has been upon us for good ? 
 
 " I have wished, and still wish, to know how you 
 do, what are your circumstances, and how your 
 mind has been exercised under its heavy afflictions. 
 I, you know, have had accumulated ones. But have 
 we not both found that precious promise verified, 
 ' As thy days, so shall thy strength be ?' Has the 
 Lord ever been a ' wilderness' to us ? And may we 
 not safely trust him for the future ? Does he not 
 know exactly, what measure of sorrow we can bear, 
 as well as what kind we need ? 
 
 And now, my friend, what remains for us to do in 
 this world? Not to live for the temporal enjoy- 
 ments of life, certainly ; for how can any comfort be 
 received, any delight enjoyed, which will not, as 
 long as we live, be embittered by the recollection of 
 those, dearer to us than our own lives, who once 
 sympathised in all our joys, and whose sympathy 
 with us was a principal source of our satisfaction ? 
 Yes, this bitter, bitter thought will press itself upon 
 our remembrance, when we lie down, and when we 
 rise up, in the house, and by the way. And, view- 
 ing our loss only in this manner, the world looks like 
 a waste, a desert, a weary monotonous desert, strip- 
 
WIDOWS. 187 
 
 ped of all that once enlivened it. But we must not 
 view it so. What did Christ live for ? What did 
 Paul live for ? Alas ! if we could find our happiness 
 here in that in which the Saviour found his, we 
 might yet see many good days in the land of the 
 living. And this is what we must lahour after. If 
 we have little left us to enjoy, have we nothing left 
 us to do ? And the happiness of our souls ought to 
 result, the happiness of a holy soul will result, from 
 doing and being just what God pleases. The mind 
 which feels that it has no sympathies to be exer- 
 cised, no object upon which to repose its affections, 
 no business to employ its faculties, must sink into a 
 state of hopeless and dreadful despondency. But 
 the Christian should never feel thus. Though our 
 precious husbands have left us, have we nothing to 
 feel or do for their children ; nothing to do for Christ, 
 and for the church which he hath purchased with 
 his own blood ? And may we not yet be happy in 
 doing diligently the work which he has given us to 
 do ? My dear friend, we shall never be happy just 
 as we have been. Oh, no, never. The smile of 
 tenderness will wait for us no more when returning 
 to our sorrowful habitations. The voice of un- 
 mingled love will greet us no more in our afflictions* 
 The counsellors, advisers, supporters, and prophets, 
 upon whom we leaned, who sanctioned by their 
 influence the expressions of maternal authority, 
 who bore us constantly and earnestly before God, 
 are gone! Nature shudders, as she casts her eye 
 
188 LETTERS TO 
 
 forward, and thinks of this long, long, long separa- 
 tion. 
 
 " But why have I suffered myself to fall into this 
 sorrowful strain? I did it unintentionally, uncon- 
 sciously. Forgive me. I have pained you, and 1 
 have pained myself. I was going to say, we must 
 find our happiness in a different way in girding up 
 the loins of our mind in a more diligent performance 
 of duty; in putting on, as good soldiers of the cross, 
 the whole armour of God ; in setting our faces as a 
 flint against every thing which can discourage, in- 
 timidate, or wound us; in remembering the example 
 of our devoted, our suffering Saviour, in leaning on 
 his arm, confiding in his wisdom, and trusting in his 
 grace and strength, and in sending forward our hearts 
 to that happy, happy home, which we hope one day 
 to reach and whither our beloved friends have gone 
 before us. Let our expectations of earthly rest be 
 moderate, except of that sweet rest which results 
 from simple trust in God. 
 
 " I have written thus far, and have not yet men- 
 tioned what I had most in view when I began. 1 
 think we may derive benefit from remembering each 
 other's children in our prayers. Can we not devote 
 ten minutes every Saturday evening, at nine o'clock, 
 to special prayer for each other, that we may have 
 grace, wisdom, courage, and patience to do our duty; 
 and for our children, that their affections may be 
 sanctified, our instructions blessed, they brought into 
 the covenant early, et. cet ? Will you write, and let 
 
WIDOWS. 189 
 
 me know what you think of it? My little boy 
 wakes, and I must bid you adieu." 
 
 5HOM LADY POWERSCOURT, WHO LOST HER HUSBAND 
 ABOUT A YEAR AFTER THEIR MARRIAGE.* 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 " Dear Mr. I should have answered your 
 
 kind letter before this, had I any thing to tell you 
 that could have given you any gratification. But 
 alas ! I have been as desolate within, as without. 
 My earthly husband hid from me, my heavenly one 
 I cannot find ; and Satan hard at work tempting me 
 to say, what is this black thing I have done, which 
 makes my Father so very angry with me? But 
 oh, my dear Lord, let him not rule within : quench 
 liis fiery darts : show me that I deserve far worse, 
 even all the wrath of an offended God. But Jesus 
 has ' borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.' 
 These trials are only blessings, to fill up that which 
 is behind of his afflictions. I am also tempted to 
 think, that I cannot be his, for I feel none of that 
 comfort his children always feel, and I used to find 
 
 in the hour of trial Jonah, doest thou 
 
 well to be angry ? I will bear the indignation of the 
 
 * The letters and papers of this eminent Christian, and 
 strong minded woman, as published by the Rev. Robert 
 Daly, are a precious volume, full of instruction, consolation, 
 and reproof. 
 
190 LETTERS TO 
 
 Lord, because I have sinned grievously against him. 
 
 Oh, dear Mr. , you do not know what it is to 
 
 lose one so dear, so very dear ; I can only compare 
 it to the tearing asunder all the strings of the heart. 
 Then such a gloomy prospect here the rest of one's 
 life. After watching him day and night with so 
 much anxiety, anticipating the joy of being allowed 
 again to be with him; all at once so unexpectedly 
 to have my hopes dashed from me, was what I did 
 not think for some days I could have borne, because 
 I forgot that as my day so should my strengih be. 
 In any other loss I have had, I never could pray for 
 the bodily life of my friend, but in this, to which no 
 other loss can be compared, night and day I could 
 not help entreating the Lord to spare me that heavy 
 blow. I really did think he meant to answer me, 
 and hoped against hope, till the last breath left tha,, 
 
 dear body But I know, Lord, that 
 
 thy judgments are right, and that in very faiihful- 
 ness thou hast afflicted me I must wait to know 
 and see why it is, till I know as I am known. That 
 it is unspeakable love, I have no doubt, because he 
 who hath sent it is no new friend, but a tried and 
 precious one; and when it is good for me he will 
 allow me to see, that this God is Love. But oh, I 
 tremble when I look at my rebellion, and ingratitude, 
 throughout it all. I have had much to show me 
 myself this last year to dig up the mud hid under 
 the smooth surface. How will it astonish you 
 astonish angels, when the book of my sins is opened 
 
WIDOWS. 191 
 
 except they are so blotted out with blood as to make 
 them illegible. 
 
 " I do not suppose, there could be a stronger lessoa 
 of the vanity of every thing earthly, than to look at 
 me, ] ast year and this. The prospects of happiness I 
 seemed to set out with ! And now, where are they ? 
 A living monument that man in his best estate is 
 altogether vanity and see how my heart, without 
 my knowing it was on earth. I could not have 
 thought, one who professes to believe in the joys of 
 heaven, and had tasted the realisation of them by 
 faith, could so mourn, as one without hope could so 
 willingly call him back again. But I shall say no 
 more, for these complaints only grieve my God, and 
 annoy you. But, indeed, I am at times greatly 
 oppressed, and feel this evening as if there were a 
 parcel of devils within, tearing me different ways, 
 and refusing me any rest. I beseech you pray for 
 me, and write to me, 
 
 " Your unalterably affectionate 
 " And grateful friend, 
 
 " T. A. POWERSCOURT." 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 * * * * # # 
 
 * * * " How I shall long to join you all above. 
 I fear I need patience, and find it hard to reconcile 
 my mind to the possibility of my living three times 
 as long as I have lived yet. When I look back upon 
 a few months, and remember the happiness I used 
 
192 LETTERS TO 
 
 to feel when I expected my dearest love, and . . , 
 , to spend the evening at .... and to have a 
 little reading, I can hardly persuade myself that I am 
 the same person. Two now in possession of what 
 they then, blessed be God, enjoyed by faith, and I 
 left alone. But I forgot I determined never to 
 murmur again. It needs a great stretch of faith 
 sometimes, when the enemy comes in like a flood, to 
 believe that God is as much at peace with me 
 through Christ, as with those already above; that 
 Abraham now in glory is not safer than I am. Is 
 that presumption do you think? What a precious 
 name, a strong tower, into which, if we run, we shall 
 be safe ! Were I left to myself I should run from it. 
 I would not trust myself to His word, but seek to 
 save myself from danger. But almighty love arrests 
 me, pulls me in ; and then rewards me for coming. 
 How much in those words, ''are safe? to think we 
 are safe from every thing ! No evil shall ever touch 
 us, evil at the end, or evil on the way. All paved 
 with love ; ' all things shall work together for good.' 
 I have got the promise of all others I want ' let thy 
 widows trust in meS I once wished there was a 
 richer, a sweeter promise to widows; but I believe 
 it requires to be brought into different circumstances, 
 in order to feel the force of different promises. For 
 the Lord knew that none so suited widows, as these 
 few words. In looking round the wide world, so 
 filled with wickedness, and seeing one has to pass 
 through it alone, one would fear, every step one took 
 
WIDOWS. 193 
 
 so unprotected and forlorn, only for this promise. 
 With this 'when I am weak, then am I strong.' It 
 is not like Him to invite us to trust in him, and then 
 let any evil come nigh us. If His everlasting arms 
 are underneath, I l shall dwell in safety alone. 7 Let 
 there be rebellions, revolutions, persecutions, earth- 
 quakes, any thing, every thing, ' let thy widows trust 
 in me,' should be enough. I know my tabernacle 
 shall be in peace. Sweet to think that the eye of 
 the Lord is upon us, to deliver our souls from death. 
 It seems to me, as a nurse keeps her eye upon her 
 child lest it should destroy itself, or as a keeper keeps 
 his eye upon his poor lunatic, * the Lord is thy keeper.' 
 Then unbelief jumps up and says, how do you know 
 all this is for you ? Then I do not know what to say, 
 but 'my Master told me so.' His Spirit witnesses 
 with my spirit. He has given me the earnest of the 
 Spirit. To those who believe, he is precious, and I 
 think he is precious to me ' a bundle of myrrh is 
 my well-beloved unto me.' Oh that I could keep 
 close to him ; I want to be fixed on the rock. My 
 grief is, that the waves of sin and the world, give me 
 so many shoves off it. Will you not pray for me, for 
 I greatly need it ; arid will you not write to me, and 
 exhort me with purpose of heart to cleave unto the 
 Lord ; and tell me if you think me presumptuous, or 
 going wrong in any way. That old serpent is so 
 cunning. Will you forgive me for speaking so much 
 of myself, but speaking of what He can do for me, 
 magnifies the power of his grace, more than if I was 
 17 
 
194 LETTERS TO 
 
 to speak of it with regard to anyone else upon earth. 
 " Yours, with Christian affection, 
 
 "T. A. POWERSCOURT." 
 
 LETTER VIII. 
 ****** 
 
 * * "I have to thank you for your other kind 
 long letter. There is a certain drawing out of heart 
 towards those who care enough for us, as to point 
 out in what way we may be grieving our Lord. 
 Your accusations, I fear, are quite just ; and I hope I 
 may have your prayers, that I may be enabled to 
 walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing. I think 
 it is in the Lord we are told to rejoice, a joy which 
 can be felt while sorrowing, a good cheer in tribula- 
 tion. I sometimes sit in astonishment, why my cup 
 should run over with this blessing, and I have more 
 when the heart is brought low to receive it, than 
 when it is (which is often the case) intoxicated. I 
 own I feel sometimes cast down and desolate, but 
 not unhappy. I have had a deep, a very deep wound ; 
 the trial has been very severe; but how should I 
 have known Him as a brother born for adversity 
 without it ? How should I prize him as my strength 
 if I am not sometimes left to feel my perfect weak- 
 ness? The heart is too selfish not to drop a tear 
 sometimes, but I hope no longer a rebellious one. 
 The wound is closed, but very little bursts it open. 
 The marble must be allowed to melt a little, but 
 only enough to seal to that good physician, who 
 
WIDOWS. 195 
 
 maketh sore, and bindeth up ; he woundeth, and his 
 hands make whole. I understand these lines, 
 
 " Cry and groan beneath afflictions, 
 Yet to dread the thoughts of ease." 
 
 However, if it is more to his glory, that I should take 
 pleasure in the many blessings left in this world, 
 dreary as it may seem through the glass of affliction, 
 * behold I am here, Lord ;' if to be kept low, even 
 so. May I only be able to lay this soul as helpless 
 on the great 1 1 AM.' And I can assure you, however 
 appearances may contradict it, I have much joy and 
 peace in believing,' and find life a flux and reflux of 
 love ; Jesus is precious to me. I find his banner of 
 love extended over Edinburgh: his promises here 
 also are as honey dropping from the comb. There 
 is not one on earth I desire but him ; he is all my 
 hope and all my salvation ; and I can go on with 
 confidence, knowing he can never deny himself, or 
 say, 1 1 never knew you,' for he testifies not only that 
 he knows me, but that he loves me, by enabling me 
 to say, ' thou knowest all things, thou knowest that 
 I love thee." 
 
 " Sometimes we appear such insignificant grass- 
 hoppers, that it is hard to conceive that he can think 
 of us and our foolish concerns ; at other times one 
 feels of such immense importance, that one wonders 
 that Christians can live like other people, such as 
 when we read of the bursts of joy from the heavenly 
 host, and find this the sign that their Lord whom 
 
196 LETTERS TO 
 
 they adore has become a despised babe, and all, be- 
 cause peace is brought to earth, and good-will to 
 man. Peace seems just what we want here, pur- 
 chased by his blood, left as his legacy. What sim- 
 plicity there seemed to be in his words after his 
 resurrection. He seemed to enjoy the travail of his 
 soul, when distributing his peace. May he impart 
 largely of it to your soul, and while recommending 
 the inexpressible treasure of his word to others, may 
 you be enabled yourself to feed on it, by faith with 
 thanksgiving. May he empty of his fulness into all 
 our bosoms, and enable us by using, to show we 
 value the privilege of drawing near to him, to tell 
 him of fear the world cannot allay, of wants the 
 world cannot satisfy, of blessings the world knows 
 nothing of. 
 
 " Your affectionate 
 
 "T. A. POWERSCOURT." 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 # * * " j s y our happy soul still lifted up ? able 
 in his light to walk through darkness ? I know the 
 dreary waste that lies before you. How his dear, 
 dear company is missed how tasteless and insipid 
 every thing appears how you want that affection 
 which entered into every trifle which concerned you 
 how want an adviser, a protector, such a companion 
 ~-one to weep when you weep to rejoice when you 
 rejoice. I know well what it is to lie down at night 
 
WIDOWS. 197 
 
 and say, where is he ? to awake in the morning, and 
 find him gone to hear the hour strike day after day, 
 at which you once expected his daily return home to 
 his too happy fire-side and find nothing but a 
 remembrance that embitters all the future here. Oh 
 my poor, poor .... if I cannot feel for you, 
 who can ? who so often partook of your happiness ? 
 sweet, precious time I have been allowed to enjoy 
 with you both, but past. However it is well that 
 you have another to feel for you. If I know the 
 meaning of the word sorrow, I also know of a joy a 
 stranger intermeddleth not with. How tenderly our 
 compassionate Lord speaks of the widow ! as a 
 parent who feels the punishment more than the 
 chastened child. He seems intent to fill up every 
 gap love has been forced to make : one of his errands 
 from heaven was to bind up the broken-hearted. He 
 has an answer for every complaint you may ever be 
 tempted to make. Do you say you have none now 
 to follow, to walk with, to lean on? He will follow 
 you and invite you to come up from the wilderness 
 leaning on him as your beloved. Is it that you want 
 one to be interested in all your concerns ? Cast all 
 your cares upon him, for he careth for you. A 
 protector? Let thy widows trust in me. An adviser? 
 Wonderful Counsellor! Companion? I will not leave 
 you comfortless; I will come unto you; I will never 
 leave you, nor forsake you; I have not called you 
 servants but friends; behold I stand at the door and 
 knock, if any man hear my voice, and open the door, 
 17* 
 
198 LETTERS TO 
 
 I will come in unto him, and sup with him, and he 
 with me. One to weep with you? In all their 
 affliction he was afflicted ; Jesus wept. When you 
 lie down safe under the shadow of his wings, under 
 the banner of his love. When you awake still 
 about your path and about your bead. It is worth 
 being afflicted to become intimately acquainted, and 
 to learn to make use of, the chief of ten thousand 
 the altogether lovely the brother born for adversity 
 the friend that sticketh closer than a brother the 
 friend of sinners. Pray write often to your poor 
 sister; tell me of every thing that interests you; do 
 not let the children forget me.' 
 
 From Mrs. Lewis, widow of the Rev. Michael Lewis, 
 Missionary to the Negroes, Demarara, to her 
 widowed mother. 
 
 " My dear and honoured mother, 
 
 " Surely I am bereaved ! O yee, I am 
 bereaved ! But of what of whom am I bereaved ? 
 Of a dear, a tender, an affectionate husband ; of a 
 mother, a friend, a brother. All these relations in 
 him I found combined, but he is gone ! My soul be 
 still and know that all is well ; rejoice that he who 
 first gave thee such a treasure, has seen fit to recall 
 him. 0, I would not for one moment repine. It is 
 true, I had fondly hoped to have had him spared to 
 me for a few more years. Two short years and 
 eleven days had just expired since we together left 
 our dear widowed mother for a far distant land, 
 
WIDOWS. 199 
 
 when ray dear husband was welcomed .0 the skies. 
 My dearest Saviour, thou didst call him, and he is 
 gone to receive that crown which fadeth not, the 
 assurance of which cheers my very heart, because he 
 will weep no more. Sorrow and sighing are for ever 
 flown from him. I know too that my Redeemer 
 liveth, and that soon the same voice that sweetly 
 called the darling of my heart from this vale of tears, 
 to mansions in the upper and better world, will say 
 to her that is left to mourn her loss, l Weep no more, 
 but come up hither and enter into the joy of your 
 Lord.' Pray, pray, for your Rebecca. 
 
 " I would fain attempt to describe the death-bed 
 scene of my dearest earthly love; but I find it 
 impossible to do so. The joy, the bliss indeed was 
 great. This line was constantly in my mind, " the 
 pain, the bliss of dying.' Yes; it deserved the name 
 of bliss, for it was bliss supremely great. Not one 
 cloud was permitted to veil his sky; enough to 
 silence every rising painful thought; and through 
 mercy I can assure you, my dearest mother, it has. 
 The Lord made good his promise to me when my 
 heart was nearly overwhelmed in prospect of a 
 separation taking place between us ; he was pleased 
 to make my dearest husband the medium through 
 which to afford consolation, and to impart submission. 
 Yes, two days before his happy spirit took its flight, 
 on seeing me rather cast down and very anxious, 
 accompanied with the trickling tear which stole 
 down my face, he said to me ; with looks indicating 
 
200 LETTERS 10 
 
 marked affection, and with a soft tone of voice, ready 
 to join his voice with mine, ' naughty, naughty, 
 you know, my dear, if this is the time the Lord is 
 about to separate us from each other, we should try 
 to feel quite submissive to his righteous will, for he 
 does all things well.' I felt reproved and retired to 
 bless the Lord for his great kindness in giving my 
 dearest husband such sweet submission to his holy 
 will ; and to entreat that the same blessing might be 
 bestowed upon myself; nor did the hearer and 
 answerer of prayer turn a deaf ear to the voice of my 
 supplication, for while I was yet speaking he an- 
 swered me; and after this, it mattered not who tried 
 to persuade me that the Lord would still spare him 
 to me, for I had quite given him up to his entire, and 
 gracious disposal. ***** 
 
 " As I was withdrawing from his bed-side, he said 
 m a low tone of voice, not intending I should hear 
 him, 'Ah, I am sorry for thee, my dear.' I was 
 determined he should not see me weeping, lest he 
 should think I was sorrowing, and spoke to him as 
 firmly as possible. About seven o'clock he said, ' My 
 love, I hope your tears are tears of gratitude.' I 
 answered ' Yes, they are tears of gratitude.' ' that 
 is quite right, quite right,' and seemed to say ' Weep 
 on then.' This was no small mercy to me, as weep- 
 ing seemed to relieve me of such a burden. 
 
 ****** 
 
 " ' I shall be with you in spirit,' he said, ' though 
 absent in body.' l Yes, my dear,' I replied, ' you are 
 
WIDOWS. 201 
 
 about to leave us and go to that blessed Jesus to 
 receive the early crown you have been speaking to 
 us about so often lately.' * * * * 
 
 " I observed ' you seem longing to clap your glad 
 wings and fly away to seats prepared above.' ' I am, 
 I am ! my dear ; tell them to sing 
 
 1 Praise ye the Lord, our hearts shall join, 
 
 In work so pleasant so divine, 
 Now while the flesh is my abode, 
 
 And when my soul ascends to God.' 
 
 When we came to the sixth verse 
 
 ' He helps the stranger in distress, 
 The widow and the fatherless j 1 
 
 It was almost too much for all, but his dear self. 
 
 "He remained silent for a little time then rny 
 ears caught the sound * Come Lord Jesus, come.' 
 The people gradually returned into the room again, 
 he said 'Sing, Salvation, the joyful sound;' we 
 sang it he then sweetly addressed us from the word 
 salvation, and said it would probably be the last time 
 he should do so. The address was pathetic indeed, 
 it was about half an hour long. To sergeant Adams 
 he said, ' Pray, pray,' he knelt and prayed in a very 
 affecting manner. My dearest Lewis kept adding 
 his amen to the petition. As we arose from our 
 knees he exclaimed, ' Sing, sing, ' Salvation, the 
 
202 LETTERS TO 
 
 joyful sound,' again, with the chorus.' At the end 
 of each verse we sang the chorus, it was as follows, 
 
 1 Glory, honour, praise and power, 
 
 Be unto the Lamb for ever ! 
 Jesus Christ is our Redeemer, 
 
 Hallelujah! Praise the Lord.' 
 
 " As we were singing the chorus the jast time, he 
 began to sing the word Hallelujah, on earth, but 
 went to heaven to finish it ! but I finished it and 
 added, 'Praise ye the Lord.' I felt my life ought to 
 be a life of praise. Thus the dear departed breathed 
 his last, without a long-fetched breath his end was 
 peace. With mine own hand I closed his eyes on 
 the twenty-second of January, exactly at twelve 
 o'clock in the day, (the Sabbath.) Dear man of God, 
 much as I loved and still love thee, I rejoice that 
 thou hast entered into thy rest. 
 
 " My dear mother, weep not because Rebecca is 
 left a widow in a strange land ; rather rejoice that 
 my heart has something like a loadstone drawing it 
 towards heaven ; for there my best friends and kin- 
 dred dwell, there God my Saviour reigns." 
 
 And now, in conclusion, what can I add for your 
 instruction or comfort, except it be a few words on 
 that blessed, though mysterious union, which exists 
 between Christ and his believing .people. Looking 
 sorrowfully, as you now do, on the broken bonds of 
 that close and tender union, which was once the 
 source of your chief earthly happiness, and the disso- 
 
WIDOWS. 203 
 
 lution of which has left you a lonely pilgrim, in this 
 world's great wilderness, comfort yourself with the 
 thought, that if joined unto the Lord by faith, and 
 made one spirit with him, there is at least one union 
 which even death cannot dissolve, and one tie which 
 nothing can weaken or rupture. How tender and 
 how heautiful is the representation, which sets forth 
 Christ as the husband of his church. You can feel 
 this now, as you never felt it before. He not only 
 loves you with an affection, to which even that of 
 your husband was cold, but will ever live to manifest 
 his affection. Death has severed you from your 
 earthly husband, but it can never take from you this 
 heavenly bridegroom. Standing at the grave of all 
 that was most dear to you on earth, and reading in 
 mournful silence, and with many tears, that simple 
 record of mortality upon his tomb, which contains 
 the history and the date of your sorrows, take up the 
 triumphant exultation of the apostle, and exclaim, 
 " Nay, in all these things we are more than conquer- 
 ors, through him that hath loved us; for I am 
 persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor 
 principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
 things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other 
 creature, shall be able to separate us from the love 
 of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Rom. viii. 
 37-39. Nor is this the language of vain boasting, but 
 of well founded confidence. No, nothing shall burst 
 the bond, which unites the redeemed soul to its 
 redeeming Saviour. This Divine Head will hold ia 
 
204 LETTERS TO 
 
 close, vital, and inseparable union, every member 
 that is incorporated into him by faith. And as you 
 cannot be severed by death from Christ, so neither is 
 your departed husband, if he were a true believer. 
 The righteous sleep in Jesus. In death they are 
 still one with him. The spirit has been disunited 
 from its mortal and corruptible body, but not from 
 its immortal and incorruptible head. All the rights 
 and privileges which belong to believers, in virtue of 
 their union with Christ, remain with them in and 
 after death undiminished, unimpaired. Dead they 
 are, but they are dead in Christ : they are as much 
 comprehended in his covenant; summed up in him 
 as their head ; represented by him as their advocate, 
 as they possibly could be, while here on earth. 
 Whatever is meant by their being in Christ, is meant 
 of them now they are dead, and shall be made good 
 to them at his appearing. Wherefore you are one 
 with him you have lost still: you meet in Christ's 
 spiritual body, and are bound by a mystical tie in the 
 same sacred fellowship. 
 
 What is to follow ? The heavenly bridegroom will 
 take home his bride to his mansions of glory, which 
 he is gone to prepare for the object of his love. How 
 tender, yet how sacred and how solemn is the adju- 
 ration of the apostle, where he says, "Now we 
 beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, and by our gathering together unto him." 
 2 Thess. ii. 1. There is now a scattering, but then 
 there is to be a gathering. His chosen, redeemed, 
 
WIDOWS. 205 
 
 regenerated, sanctified church, now severed from 
 each other, though still united in him, shall be then 
 collected into his presence, and gathered round his 
 throne; not one of its members shall be missing, but 
 . the spiritual body will be complete with its Divine 
 Head. Mortality will be swallowed up of life. 
 Heaven will be a region of vitality ; a living world, a 
 world of life. The widow's God shall be there, but 
 not the widow, as a widow. Her tears will be 
 wiped away ; her loss will be repaired ; her sorrows 
 will be turned into joy, for she will be associated 
 again M/iui the companion of her pilgrimage; not 
 indeed in ihe bonds of a fleshly union, but in the ties 
 of a spirixual fellowship; for they shall be as the 
 angels of Go;l, and shall dwell together for ever in 
 that glorious state, of which it is said, there, SHALL 
 
 EE NO MORE DEATH. 
 

w 
 
 ^> 
 
 ^C 
 
 Q r- 
 
 
 GO 
 
 m 
 
VA P3B42 
 
 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY