if 
 
 / 
 
SICKNESS 
 
 ITS TRIALS AND BLESSINGS 
 
 NEIV EDITION 
 
 RIVINGTONS 
 
 Eontlon, ©jrforb, anil CambnUge 
 1872 
 

 TO ALL 
 
 WHO ARE CALLED BY SICKNESf 
 
 TO ‘‘fill up that which is behind” 
 
 OF THE SUFFERINGS OF CHRIST, 
 
 AND TO WALK 
 
 “ IN THE BLESSED STEPS OF HIS MOST HOLY LIFE,’^ 
 “ WHO HIMSELF BORE OUR SICKNESSES,” 
 
 Volume 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
 A 2 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The writer of this book has herself been tried by 
 long years of sickness, and has asked a friend who 
 has had the privilege of ministering to her, to certify 
 his belief, as a clergyman, that these pages are not 
 inconsistent with the teaching of the Church of 
 England, directing her obedient children to the 
 Holy Scriptures — the fountain of true consolation, 
 and showing how to apply them. 
 
 It was a careful study of the Service for the 
 Visitation of the Sick that first taught her the 
 meaning and the blessings of sickness ; and her 
 desire has been, if it may please God, to be 
 instrumental in pointing out to others the same 
 sources of consolation. 
 
 It only remains to say, that it is not intended 
 that every part of this book should apply to every 
 case; but it is hoped that something may be 
 gained by many sufferers, in a great variety of 
 cases, from the experience of one who has been 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 called to pass through various stages of trial. 
 Something too of consolation may be found from 
 the discovery that others have felt the same ; 
 and something perhaps of additional sympathy 
 obtained for the sick, by the more particular 
 acquaintance of those around them with the 
 nature of their trials. 
 
 It is chiefly through the instrumentality of 
 these trials that the Lord’s people are made like 
 unto Himself. And they are ‘‘ never so truly 
 happy,” as when they are learning in that which 
 one of our martyred , Reformers called “ Christ’s 
 Own Sweet School.” 
 
 The name of an individual clergyman can give 
 no authority, scarcely any recommendation, to 
 this book; but it is added at the request of 
 the writer, in token of assent to all that she has 
 written. 
 
 F. 0. MASSINGBERD. ' 
 
 St. Leonard’s-on-Sea, 
 March 20, 1850. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 PAET I. — MATTNEE OE LOOKING NEON SICKNESS. 
 
 SECT. PAGE 
 
 Introduction 1 
 
 1. First Impressions of a 
 
 Long Sickness .... 7 
 
 2. Sickness, a Hidden 
 
 State ; Trials are to 
 be expected in it . . 10 
 
 3. Twofold character of 
 
 Sickness 13 
 
 SECT. PAGE 
 
 4. The seeming length 
 
 of Sickness 14 
 
 5. Lessons which various 
 
 Illnesses are meant 
 to teach 16 
 
 6. Sickness a vocation . . 18 
 
 7. Probability of Reco- 
 
 very 22 
 
 PART II. — TRIALS AND TEMPTATIONS OE SICKNESS. 
 PERSONAL TRIALS. 
 
 1. Pain 25 
 
 2. Weakness 29 
 
 3. Loss of the Powers of 
 
 Mind 38 
 
 4. The Nearness of Life 44 
 
 5. Longings 46 
 
 6. Circumstances 50 
 
 7. Efforts 54 
 
 8. Nervousness 59 
 
 9. Taking Opiates 63 
 
 10. Fancies about Food. . 64 
 
 11. Nights 68 
 
 1 2. Days 71 
 
 13. Disappointments and 
 
 Discouragements.. 78 
 
 14. Poverty 80 
 
 15. Difficulty of Prayer. . 84 
 
 16. Absence of Work, and 
 
 Overtasked Strength 96 
 
 17. Anniversaries 101 
 
 RELATITE TRIALS. 
 
 1. The Family and 
 
 Friends 106 
 
 2. Letters 115 
 
 3. Visits of Clergymen . . 117 
 
 4. Medical Advice and 
 
 Medical Visits .... 122 
 
 5. Nurses and Attendants 129 
 
 6. Giving Trouble 133 
 
 TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 1. That no one can Sym- 3. Impatience 1^2 
 
 pathize 137 4. Considering Symptoms 143 
 
 2. Irritability 138 
 
Vill 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PABT III. — DUTIES AND EESPONSIBILITIES OF 
 SICKNESS. 
 
 SECT. PAGE 
 
 1. Contentment 145 
 
 2. Sympathy 152 
 
 3. Patience 157 
 
 4. Submission 164 
 
 5. Hope 170 
 
 6. Cheerfulness 175 
 
 SECT. PAGE 
 
 7. Thanksgiving 181 
 
 8. To remember the 
 
 Poor, and to aid 
 others in their 
 
 Works of Mercy . . 187 
 
 PAET lY. — THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 The Blessings of Sickness 191 
 
 PAET T. — MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 1. Reading the Scriptures 200 I 3. The Holy Communion 210 
 
 2. Sunday 202 | 4. Prayer for Recovery 216 
 
 PAET YI. CONYALESCENCE. 
 
 1. Its Pleasures and its 
 
 Trials 219 
 
 2. The being called back 
 
 to Life when Death 
 
 seemed near, and 
 how to become con- 
 tent with this Lot. . 223 
 
 PAET YII.— DEATH. 
 
 1. The Fear of Death, 
 
 and the Fear taken 
 away 230 
 
 2. The publicity of a 
 
 Death-bed, and the 
 
 Temptation to choose 
 the Circumstances of 
 
 it 235 
 
 3. The Right Way of 
 viewing Death .... 237 
 
 Appendix 
 
 240 
 
PART 1. 
 
 MANNEE OF LOOKING UPON 
 SICKNESS. 
 
 INTEODUCTION. 
 
 Each one knows that he must die alone. How 
 few realize that, for the most part, it is God’s ap- 
 pointment that each one should live alone, and 
 mffer alone ! Each one must ‘‘ bear his own 
 burden V’ feel his own incommunicable grief, which 
 ‘‘often lies like lead upon the heart, or like ice 
 within the heart.” Solitude and a sense of isola- 
 tion are not peculiar to sickness. They who walk 
 abroad in .the busy world have their own “ loneli- 
 ness of heart,” and find it “ truly hard to bear.” 
 This deep, weary sense of isolation is a call to the 
 sick to sympathize with, and better to understand 
 the trials of those in health. There is in every 
 heart more or less craving for sympathy ; a rest- 
 less craving in those who have not learned where 
 to turn for true sympathy, and that “One only 
 and only One is enough ” to satisfy all their yearn- 
 ings. There are few who do not think it hard 
 that their lot of woe is not more borne by others. 
 
 1 Gal. vi. 5. 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 They think it ought to be ; they expect it ; they 
 crave for it ; they “ cry out in their pangs that 
 their lot is hard and peculiar, that it is not so with 
 others. They go on crying, till so loud and con- 
 stant becomes their voice, that they do not, ex- 
 cept occasionally, hear “ the still small voice’’ 
 which is speaking to them, and saying, Listen 
 to me.” When they do listen, it tells them that 
 their lot is not peculiar, but the common lot of 
 all ; that each one after his own manner (or rather, 
 that manner that God sees fitted to his character) 
 is living alone ; some more, some less so ; that 
 there is a meaning in it all, an absolute necessity; 
 that those who do ‘‘hear the rod, and who hath 
 appointed it®,” then cease to be alone in their 
 loneliness ; that the whole end is to drive them 
 away from creatures, from themselves, from all 
 earthly cravings, and to drive them to seek for 
 God alone, and to dwell in Him. The lesson is 
 the same in all cases, but there are different ways 
 of learning it. The path in which each man walks 
 is untrodden by any other; he cannot judge of its 
 roughness, or how many thorns there may be in it. 
 No one can fully see the extent and details of the 
 trial which another is called to bear. One comes 
 near and says words of sympathy for one part of 
 the trial ; another for some other part ; a third 
 sees no trial in it at all ; a fourth thinks it must 
 be much less trying than some other form of suffer- 
 ing, or than his own. No one but the sufferer 
 sees it in all its bearings and forms of inward suf- 
 fering; no one else feels the acute pain of heart 
 and all its throbbings. Each one leaves some dis- 
 appointment behind, or else makes the snfferer 
 say, “ I should be quite alone, or at least only 
 very imperfectly understood, if I had my fellow- 
 2 Isa. xxvi. 17. ® Mic. vi. 9. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 s 
 
 sufferers only to depend on. Each one seems 
 wrapped in his own sorrow ; his eyes too intently 
 fixed on it to see mine, except very dimly. I must 
 ‘appeal to the world where all things are under- 
 stood,’ and to Him who ‘ weigheth the spirits.’ ” 
 
 The weight of life, the burden of doing, are hard 
 to bear; still more so, perhaps, when borne in 
 conjunction with sickness. The weary longing for 
 work : the toilsome days which all seem spent for 
 self, and in which you seem never to do any thing 
 for others, but merely to add very much to their 
 .burdens ; and you grow sadder and more hopeless 
 as time goes on and brings no relief. As each 
 morning dawns, it seems but to open another day 
 of selfishness. It seems to you that you could do 
 something, what you cannot exactly tell, where to 
 turn for work vou do not know. Your friends, 
 perhaps, think you unfit for any exertion ; in their 
 kindness, as they suppose, they do every thing for 
 you, remove all work from you, tell you that you ^ 
 are not wanted, that there are plenty of people 
 who can supply your place. They mean it in true 
 kindness, but you do not see it so ; you think that 
 if they would only find some niche for you, you 
 should be very thankful. 
 
 That thought of being necessary to no one is 
 part of your weary burden. You cannot truly see 
 the love which has led your friends to speak and 
 act thus. Wait a little, do not writhe, lie still; 
 do not say, “I am cut off from work, there is no- 
 thing left for me to do, no place to fill up : ” if it 
 be so at present it may not always be so. Do not 
 lose the blessing of your present state in reaching 
 after something either future or imaginary. Seek 
 to find out what are your present duties : at least 
 there are some. Do not ask to have your world 
 enlarged ; but fulfil your present duties ; do your 
 
4 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 present work. You may help and be a great 
 blessing to your attendant, even if you cannot 
 speak much ; if she sees you meek and patient, 
 submissive to your trials, bearing pain patiently, 
 receiving the various circumstances of life cheer- 
 fully, not murmuring or repining, she may learn a 
 lesson which may sink deep into her heart, and 
 bring forth fruit another day. 
 
 Y oil have relative duties also ; perhaps you have 
 parents, or brothers, or sisters, or children in the 
 house with you. The mere receiving them cheer- 
 fully, making them feel that they are always wel- 
 come, that you are ever ready to bear their burdens, 
 and to sympathize with them, to share their joys 
 as well as their sorrows, may make your sick room 
 the “ place of blessing’" to all the household ; the 
 very house may be blessed for your sake : because 
 the God who has thus linked you to the “ prisoners 
 and captives,” can make “ you and the places round 
 you a blessing^.” In this busy, bustling world, 
 many ^‘seek some place of refreshment,” where 
 they may leave behind them the jarring of this life, 
 and draw nearer to reality. Do not then say that 
 you have no work ; but lie still and let Him work 
 in you to will and to do of His good pleasure 
 Ask Him to make you so like unto Himself, that 
 others may “ take knowledge of you that you have 
 been with J esus ®.” Seek continually to refresh 
 yourself in Him, and then to water others, to “ com- 
 fort them with the comfort wherewith you are com- 
 forted of God^” You have a great work to do, 
 to ‘‘ deny yourself and worldly lusts and “ to 
 walk humbly with God ®.” This work is ‘‘ laudable, 
 glorious, and honourable ; ” do not despise it, do 
 
 * Ezek. xxxiv. 26. 
 ^ Acts iv. 13. 
 
 ® Tit. ii. 12. 
 
 5 Phil. ii. 13. 
 7 2 Cor. i. 4. 
 ^ Mic. vi. 8. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 not think scorn of it, lest in doing so you be 
 ‘‘found replying against God';” lest you tempt 
 Him to withdraw it from you. Besides, even if it 
 were true that you have nothing to do, no outward 
 worh^ you have one stone at least in the Temple to 
 polish and keep in its place : this time is given you 
 in which to do it ; look on it as a time of prepara- 
 tion for something, although you know not for 
 what ; it may be for life, or it may be for death. 
 Do not pass it by ; do not waste it in murmuring, 
 or by crying out for some change. He who sees 
 your heart, knows that it is ^ery trying to you ; 
 and “ He is very pitiful and of tender mercy but 
 He sees that you need just this very discipline, 
 and He will give you no other, until this has done 
 the work for which He sent it. 
 
 At this very moment, many other persons are 
 suffering, in mind, body, and estate, just as you 
 are suffering. They have the same trials, the 
 same temptations, though you know them not, and 
 they know nothing of you ; nor are you ever likely 
 to meet until the day when “the secrets of all 
 hearts shall be opened 
 
 How you suffer is very important to them, for 
 you insensibly affect them, though you do not in- 
 deed exactly know Iioid; but this you know, that 
 every member of the Body is necessary to, and 
 affects, the whole Body. Surely a realization of 
 this truth would not only take away the loneliness 
 of sickness, but would also prevent the feeling of 
 life being a useless thing, and of trial and sickness 
 being meant only for individual sanctification. “ I 
 believe in the communion of Saints,” and so I am 
 not alone, I cannot be ; my trials are not mine 
 alone ; my conflicts and my temptations are those 
 
 1 Rom. ix, 20. 
 
 2 James v. 1 1. 
 
 3 1 Cor. iv. 5. 
 
6 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of some other member of Ohrist*’s Church. In 
 fighting, I fight for them as well as for myself ; in 
 overcoming, weaken Satan's power over them, as 
 well as over myself. ‘‘ No temptation hath hap- 
 pened but such as is common to man k" Surely 
 no sick person should ever say, ‘^Mine is the hard- 
 est of all trials to bear, the most difficult form of 
 suffering." How can he tell, unless he had tried 
 all? And be it the hardest, why then it is the 
 most blessed for himself, and the most helpful for 
 his sick and suffering brethren. 
 
 These thoughts truly realized would by degrees 
 remove the feeling of isolation which is so common 
 and so painful in sickness ; 
 
 “ Who hath the Father and the Son, 
 
 May be left, but not alone.” 
 
 * 1 Cor. X. 13. 
 
1 . 
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF A LONG SICKNESS. 
 
 Sickness has come upon you. You are beginning 
 to know that you may not hope that it will pass 
 away ; that it is likely to be a life-long sickness. 
 You are depressed and cast down because of it. 
 You say, that your ‘‘whole head is sick, and your 
 whole heart faint ^ that it seems to you “ a land 
 of darkness, as darkness itself ; and of the shadow 
 of death, without any order, and where the light 
 is as darkness^.” 
 
 When first one enters into sickness it does not 
 seem so dark. God deals with us very gently: 
 He does not let us see the way before us. “ He 
 hides the full length of the way, lest we should 
 faint or turn aside.’’ He gives us every alleviation 
 and comfort ; to such a degree, oftentimes, as to 
 make that most pleasant, which would otherwise 
 prove almost insupportable. He showers upon us 
 the kindness and love of friends — their sympathy, 
 their tenderness, their anxiety. It seems as if 
 every thing centred in us, as if we were the only 
 objects of their life. All this is very delightful 
 to us ; all our wishes are anticipated ; all our 
 desires fulfilled, almost before we had framed 
 them. We seem to have learned that our friends 
 have a depth of love to us that we never knew 
 before ; that we are of value and importance to 
 them, such as we never dreamed of ; that their 
 very happiness hangs on our lives ; they seem to 
 1 Isa. i. 5. * Job x. 22. 
 
8 
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS 
 
 live in us. It is well worth the counterbalance of 
 a great deal of pain and suffering to realize such 
 wonderful blessings. We seem introduced into a 
 new world, where there is only love and kindness, 
 and consideration and sympathy ; from which all 
 the frets, and trials, and vexations of daily life are 
 excluded. Friends sympathize — are very sorry 
 for our trial. What know we of trial ? we never 
 had such attention and love shown to us before. 
 And why? Because it is all gathered up into 
 a span ; and it is supposed that the hour is soon 
 coming when love and tenderness can no longer be 
 shown. 
 
 But the first danger of the illness subsides. For 
 a while there is joy and gladness in all hearts, 
 because you seem to be returning to health. But 
 God has appointed otherwise for you; it is not 
 His good pleasure to give you health, but the 
 prospect of a long-during, probably a life-long, 
 sickness. 
 
 And now, for the first time, you begin to be 
 aware of the real trials of sickness. At first, 
 when the novelty of the state has passed away, 
 and a dreary unchanging prospect lies before you, 
 it seems “ full of sorrow,"" and not '‘"‘few days,"’ for 
 it seems as if they would never end. Years of 
 suffering ; 0 how the heart sinks at those words ! 
 What, is there no prospect of diminution? Nay, 
 rather of increase. It is in vain to say, “ My soul 
 is weary of my life^;"" ‘‘my soul chooseth death 
 rather than my life ; I loathe it ; I would not live 
 alway This will not do ; this will not lighten 
 the “heavy burden” which you feel is “too 
 grievous to be borne.” 
 
 Yet do not say, “Hold your peace, let me 
 alone, ... let come on me what will \"" Do not 
 
 3 Job X. 1. * Job vii. 15, 16. ^ Job xiii. 13. 
 
OF A LONG SICKNESS, 
 
 9 
 
 say, “ There is no hope for it is not so. Your 
 present state is one full of trials, of temptations, of 
 sorrow, and of much present darkness and uncer- 
 tainty ; but believe that it is full of blessings also 
 — full of comforts, and mercies, and duties, and en- 
 joyments ; believe that though now it may seem to 
 you as ‘‘ one who mocks ” that speaketh, that if 
 you will ‘‘apply your heart to instruction, and"’ 
 open “your ears to the words of knowledge^,” the 
 time is not far distant when you will see the “ bow 
 in the clouds,” and learn who set it there, and per- 
 ceive each day a “ rainbow in every storm.” For 
 though now you “ see not the bright light that 
 there is in the clouds, yet the wind passeth over 
 and cleanseth them ®.” It will be to you as “ the 
 clear shining after rain ^” And what if the rain 
 must come first? Fear not, the water-floods shall 
 not drown you, for the Lord will be with you. 
 
 You have often tried to think of the blessings of 
 sickness apart from its trials. This cannot truly 
 be done, because the blessings so much arise out of, 
 or are connected with, the trials. You often think 
 that the pain in itself would not be hard to bear ; 
 that the trial of it is, its interference, as you think, 
 ^ with your duties, and with the comforts of others. 
 You may be sure that it does not interfere with 
 your duties. What God calleth you to, that He 
 gives you strength to meet. Not that you have 
 Yhe strength previously, or in yourself ; but that 
 if He calls you to any work. He gives the measure 
 of strength required at the time, and for that 
 thing. 
 
 However it may seem to interfere with the 
 actual comfort of other people, yet they need the 
 trial of your sickness as much as you do ; and it 
 
 ® Isa. Ivii. 10. ^ Prov. xxiii. 12. 
 
 ® Job xxxvii. 21. 2 Sam. xxiii. 4. 
 
10 
 
 SICKNESS, A HIDDEN STATE. 
 
 will, in its measure, be as truly a blessing to them 
 as to you. Leave all this to God ; trust also in 
 Him, and He will bring it to pass 
 
 II. 
 
 SICKNESS, A HIDDEN STATE ; TRIALS ARE 
 TO BE EXPECTED IN IT. 
 
 The longer sickness is continued to any one, the 
 more truly does he learn that sickness is a hidden 
 state. Much even of that portion of your life, 
 which in health would be seen and shared by 
 others, is from henceforth shut up ; shut out from 
 all eyes, save of ‘‘Him who seeth in secret 
 You will often have to learn that few persons 
 understand your state at all ; that even those who 
 earnestly desire to do so, make great mistakes, 
 which often give you great and (as you are apt to 
 think) needless pain. Perhaps, if you bear in 
 mind your own previous ignorance of the state, 
 how day by day hidden things are revealed to you, 
 you will wonder less that others do not know the 
 lengths, and breadths, and depths, and heights of 
 your trial. Each one must pass through it to know 
 the way, and to be enabled to point out the road, 
 and its turnings and way-marks, to others. Be- 
 ware, therefore, of expecting too much ; of taking 
 it as a matter of course that every one sees and 
 knows your trials, and ought to avoid adding to 
 them. Do not be looking out for this kind of 
 understanding; do not expect to meet with it 
 often ; and thus you will be spared much bitter 
 disappointment and sorrow of heart. 
 
 Doubtless, if some of your trials were seen and 
 ^ Ps. xxxvii. 5. ^ Matt. vi. 6. 
 
SICKNESS, A HIDDEN STATE. 
 
 11 
 
 known, your friends would try to remove them. 
 How many blessings you would lose thereby! O 
 how these little pricks reveal the thoughts of the 
 heart You could not spare them; do not wish 
 them away, for ‘‘ He doth not willingly afflict or 
 grieve^"” you. He would therefore remove them, 
 unless He saw that they were necessary for you. 
 Do not say, ‘‘ 0 ! but these trifles which are so 
 much to me, and yet could be so easily removed, 
 can do no good ; they are too little to effect any 
 thing ; they do but produce vexation and stir up 
 evil.” Well, then, if they can produce so much 
 evil, why cannot they produce an equal measure of 
 good ? Their very character of trifles it is, that 
 makes them useful ; they try you secretly, insigni- 
 ficantly, and yet sharply. Think of the crown of 
 thorns borne for you. Did that cause no suffering I 
 Y et, what are thorns ? 
 
 It is no use hiding from yourself that you are 
 from henceforth to be tried. Face it all; look 
 fully at it ; expect suffering ; receive it as your 
 daily portion ; and when you say, Give us this 
 day our daily bread remember that you are 
 asking for your daily portion of suffering : yet 
 never forget also that you are asking for your 
 daily portion of strength, which you will surely 
 receive. 
 
 It is best to look upon sickness as a state wholly 
 different to any that you have ever yet known ; as 
 involving a wholly different set of trials, temptations, 
 duties, and blessings ; as not to be judged of, or 
 treated like a state of health. Look upon each 
 little thing as a trials i, e. as meant to try you, to 
 ‘‘humble you, and prove you, and show you what 
 is in your heart, whether you will keep His com- 
 mandments, or no®.” 
 
 3 Lam. iii. 33. * Matt. vi. 11. « Deut. viii. 2. 
 
12 SICKNESS,' A HIDDEN STATE. 
 
 It is a painful thing truly to feel as in a cage ; 
 and it offers the constant temptation to beat your 
 wings against the sides of it ; but stay on the perch 
 quietly, and you will not feel the bondage and im- 
 prisonment of your cage. And after all, it is God 
 who has shut you in ; and therefore you are safe 
 there, and there only. 
 
 You must not expect that sickness will ever be- 
 come a pleasant thing, a state without great and 
 manifold trials. But would you wish that this should 
 be the case ? What blessing could you expect from 
 any state without trial? What could you learn 
 from it ? How would it liken you to your Master, 
 who was made perfect through suffering ® ?’’ 
 “ Whom the Lord lomth He chasteneth^ would 
 you wish, therefore, to be deprived of this token of 
 His love? You will do well to resolve not to 
 expect or desire this. 
 
 Face the whole trial; do not shrink from ac- 
 knowledging to yourself that sickness is full of trial, 
 and ever will be so, as long as it lasts ; and that^it 
 is meant to be so, and that as soon as you get used 
 to any portion, so that it ceases to iry,^ it will cease 
 to bless, and then the God of love will change it 
 for some other form of discipline. 
 
 “He Himself went not up to joy, but first He 
 suffered pain ; He entered not into His glory, before 
 He was crucified. So truly our way to eternal joy 
 is to suffer here with Christ ; and our door to enter 
 into eternal life is gladly to die with Christ, that 
 we may rise again from death, and dwell with Him 
 in everlasting life®.” 
 
 ® Heb. ii. 10. ^ Heb. xii. 6. 
 
 * Service for the Visitation of the Sick. 
 
TWOFOLD CHARACTER OF SICKN^ESS. 13 
 
 III. 
 
 TWOFOLD CHARACTER OF SICKNESS. 
 
 If we look upon sickness as our own private pro- 
 perty, and having reference only to ourselves, it 
 becomes so. The lessons are then merely per- 
 sonal ; and so are the blessings. W e should never 
 lose sight of the twofold character of sickness. It 
 is personal ; meant for individual profit, to make 
 thee ‘‘a partaker of His holiness®’’ who chastens 
 thee. It is intended to make thee like thy Lord ; 
 to increase all graces in thee ; to “ add strength 
 to thy faith and seriousness to thy repentance ‘ 
 to make that repentance real, and deep, and earnest, 
 as never before ; to mould thy will to God’s will ; 
 to dissolve thee, until thou art lost in Him. It 
 is for thy correction^ punishment for past and present 
 sin. It is to change the aspect of earth, and of all 
 creatures. To show them in their true character. 
 — To show them in contrast with God ; to show 
 what they can do — and what He can do for thee; 
 their distance — His nearness ; their incompetency 
 — His completeness ; their one-sided knowledge 
 and judgment of thee — His perfect knowledge and 
 inspection of thee. 
 
 Let this personal character of sickness never be 
 lost sjght of ; for every sickness is a chastisement, 
 and it comes home into the very heart, saying. 
 
 Thou art the man®.” 
 
 But the other view of it should never be for- 
 gotten. It is not for thyself alone, but for the 
 whole Church ; ‘‘ The whole Church is fitly framed 
 together by that which every joint suppliethV’ 
 They who are well could not go on without those 
 
 ® Heb. xii. 10. ^ Service for the Visitation of the Sick. 
 
 2 2 Sam. xii. 7. ^ Eph. iv. 10. 
 
14 THE SEEMING LENGTH OF SICKNESS. 
 
 who are sick, any more than those who are sick 
 could go on without those who are well. In many 
 things they need them. They need to have this 
 embodying of a large part of the life of our Lord 
 ever before their eyes. They need to be reminded 
 of death and of judgment. They need the ballast 
 of suffering to keep them steady. They need to 
 learn hereby that “man walketh in a vain show, 
 that he is disquieted in vain\’*’ They need that 
 what is kind and sympathizing and gentle in them 
 should be drawn forth, and thus developed. They 
 need to see life real and in earnest, with all its 
 gloss stripped off ; what it comes to ; what they 
 must come to. They need this voice to say to 
 them, “ Be ye also ready : for in such an hour as 
 ye think not the Son of man cometh®.” 
 
 To show them all this is one office of sickness. 
 If thus you look upon sickness as a work, a mission, 
 one to which God has called you, although you seem 
 called only to suffer, you will not look upon it as a 
 lonesome lot. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE SEEMING LENGTH OF SICKNESS. 
 
 “A LIFE-LONG sickness!” what a dreary thought! 
 It seems as if it were said to be unending : yet 
 “ What is your life ? It is even as a vapour, that 
 appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth 
 away®.” Medical men may speak of its lasting 
 “an indefinite time,” for its length is undefined 
 to them ; but “ with God are the issues of life and 
 of death.” He will daily and hourly, yea, moment 
 by moment, apportion to you your lot of suffering, 
 
 * Ps. xxxix. 6. ® Matt. xxiv. 44. ® James iv. 14. 
 
THE SEEMING LENGTH OF SICKNESS. 15 
 
 and the strength to carry you through it. You 
 have not to bear the whole length of your illness 
 now at this time, but minute by minute ; do not 
 increase your present suffering, by adding to it the 
 future burden. He knows how best to deal with 
 you. Fear not, for All these things are in His 
 hand ; and He lays them on, not all at once, but 
 little, by little, to prepare us for greater trials. 
 We never have more than we can bear. The pre- 
 sent hour we are always able to endure. As our 
 day, so is our strength. If the trials of many 
 years were gathered into one they would break us 
 down ; therefore, in pity to our little strength. He 
 sends first one, then another, then removes both, 
 and lays on a third, heavier, perhaps, than either ; 
 but all is so wisely measured to our strength, that 
 the bruised reed is never broken. W e do not suf- 
 ficiently regard our trials in this continuous and 
 successive view. Each one is sent to teach us 
 something, and altogether they have a lesson which 
 is beyond the power of any to teach alone. But 
 if they came together we should break down, and 
 learn nothing. The smoking flax would be put 
 out, and we should be crushed ‘ into the dust of 
 death.’’’ ^ 
 
 There is no other way to look at the path which 
 lies before you, for it seems a long and wearisome 
 way, and without an end. At least the end is so 
 far distant, so incalculable, that it seems to you 
 endless. You are told that your sickness is not a 
 mortal one, and yet may be of many years’ dura- 
 tion. But even supposing this to be no mistake, 
 it need not be this particular sickness which is 
 appointed to take you to the ‘‘ rest that remaineth.” 
 Some fresh thing may come any day ; and how- 
 ever slight it may seem. He who sends it can 
 make it to be His messenger, and it may bring the 
 
16 LESSONS WHICH VARIOUS ILLNESSES 
 
 “ true token.*” Do not, therefore, distress your- 
 self with trying to ascertain the probable length of 
 the illness, the forms it may assume, or how it may 
 end. Leave it all to Him who hath said, “ I am 
 the Way, the Truth, and the Life^■” You are 
 saying, with St. Thomas, Lord, we know not 
 whither Thou goest ; and how can we know the 
 way^?” The answer is the same now as then — 
 “I am the Way.” ^ He is the Way” in which 
 you are walking. ‘‘The Truth” is your Teacher. 
 “ The Life” is Christ, in whom your “life is hid.” 
 To believe this with your heart would be perfect 
 peace. You would have no second will, but let 
 Him lead you any where, through any sickness, 
 however long and wearisome it might be ; even 
 though to you it seem to have no end^ yet trust 
 Him that it is the shortest as well as the safest and 
 the best — the only way which can lead you to that 
 place which He “ is gone to prepare for you.” By 
 all these means He is preparing you for that place 
 which He has already prepared for you. He knows 
 exactly what is necessary. In a dark night, and 
 in a strange plaee, you must trust yourself to a 
 guide. Put yourself into His hands ; the way 
 may seem mry dark, and' drear, and solitary ; but 
 He knows it ; He has trodden every step, and will 
 surely lead you safely in the “ right way to the 
 city of habitation 
 
 V. 
 
 LESSONS WHICH VARIOUS ILLNESSES ARE 
 MEANT TO TEACH. 
 
 In the extreme of suffering from thirst which 
 some have been called to pass through, when “the 
 
 ^ John xiv, 6. 
 
 ^ Ps. cvii. 7» 
 
 * John xiv. 5. 
 
ARE MEANT TO TEACH. 
 
 17 
 
 tongue cleaved to the roof of the mouth V’ 
 words failed; and “the throat was dry^,"’ and the 
 spirit faint from the very suffering ; in the pecu- 
 liar distress of irritability and impatience which 
 accompanies thirst ; the restlessness, the fever, the 
 feeling of intense misery ; no one thinks it wrong 
 to try and quench that thirst. But when all means 
 fail, then how the spirit turns to God alone, and 
 gives hearty /thanks to Him \>^ho, when He was on 
 the Cross, condescended to endure that suffering ! 
 Then those two words, “ I thirst have seemed 
 inexpressibly gracious, and loving, and compas- 
 sionate, and His power to sympathize has enabled 
 the sufferer to lie still and bear his lesser woe. 
 
 They, who when they say, “ I am very thirsty,***’ 
 can allay that thirst, or even try the means of doing 
 ■ so ; they, who when they are very hungry have 
 food to eat, and power to retain it, little know 
 the exquisite tenderness of the loving-kindness of 
 the Good Shepherd, who suffered hunger and thirst 
 for them ; and who, though He calls them to pass 
 ' through these dry places, bears them in His arms, 
 and carries them in His bosom, and makes them 
 to see a fulness of meaning in the Gospels, which 
 they could never have seen otherwise, especially 
 in His feeding so many thousands with scarcely 
 any bread. It is no light matter to them, that 
 three times in the year the Church, in the Gospels 
 appointed for the Sundays, calls them to consider 
 this miracle of our Lord. 
 
 ^ The various forms of illness seem meant each 
 to teach us their own separate lesson. “ Whoso is 
 wise, and will observe these things, even he shall 
 understand the loving-kindness of the Lord 
 All those diseases which deprive people of some 
 
 ^ Ps. xxii. 15. 2 pg^ Ixix. 3. 
 
 2 John xix. 28. * Ps. cvii. 43. 
 
 C 
 
18 
 
 SICKNESS A VOCATION. 
 
 sense or power, speak each with their own voice, 
 that God gave sight and hearing, and the power 
 of walking and acting. 
 
 Oonsuinption seems to say, perhaps with, a louder 
 voice than all the rest, “ The Almighty God is the 
 Lord of life and death, and of all things to them 
 pertaining.'^’ Those diseases which attack the 
 digestive organs, and which either prevent the 
 taking, or the retaining of food, say, that what 
 we call common mercies are the good gifts of God, 
 not once for all, but daily and hourly renewed ; that 
 we think it a common mercy (if we regard it as 
 a mercy at all) to be able to take food, and having 
 taken it, to be nourished by it, and suffer no incon- 
 venience from it. W e think it a strange thing if 
 it be otherwise with us — an accident to be speedily 
 got rid of. O ! how many days, and months, and 
 years, w^e have taken daily meals without looking 
 at each one and all that belonged to it, as a present 
 and daily-renewed mercy from our ever watchful 
 Lord, who ‘‘knoweth whereof we are made^” 
 
 VI. 
 
 SICKNESS A VOCATION. 
 
 Sickness for the present is the “ state of life into 
 which it hath pleased God to call you.” Your 
 calling^ your vocation.” As such you will feel it 
 ‘‘very good.” You will feel also that no state 
 can be good excepting that to which He calls you ; 
 and you will desire to have no choice whether to 
 live or die, to remain in your present state, or to 
 recover your bodily health. 
 
 Whatever is clearly your work, your calling^ 
 
 * Ps. ciii. 14. 
 
SICKNESS A VOCATION. 
 
 IS 
 
 that do ; and be sure that we have no “ hard 
 Master, reaping where He has not sown, and 
 gathering where He has not strawed 
 
 He will give you strength for each thing that 
 He calls you to. But you must ever remember 
 that it is what He calU you to, and not in any 
 self-chosen path, that you can look for the power 
 to perform. This is your work now. Do not think 
 scorn of it. Do not lightly esteem it. The work 
 requires great patience, great faith, great love, 
 great submission. Say then, has He not honoured 
 you by trusting it to you ? 
 
 Do you ask how you can “show forth His 
 praise,’’ if you cannot stir hand or foot, and can 
 scarcely think? The answer will give you work 
 enough, for it will require a vigorous, earnest, 
 daily, hourly conflict ; “ a sharp rule over yourself, 
 your tempers,” your most easily-besetting sins: 
 truly a “ fight of faith,” which you cannot fight 
 unless you “take unto yourself the whole armour 
 of God‘^” 
 
 In some minds there is a great impatience of the 
 bonds of sickness, and an inordinate desire for re- 
 covering, which must be brought into subjection, 
 and be yielded wholly to the will of God. There 
 are such a variety of characters and dispositions, 
 that each one needs a different discipline. 
 
 Some learn more quickly in the school of sick- 
 ness than others. Some take great pains to learn 
 — they are never content with present progress — 
 they are ever seeking to know more, to practise 
 more, to rise higher. This requires great self-dis- 
 cipline, constant watchfulness ; for the birds of the 
 air are constantly trying to get the good seed, and 
 often the sun is very scorching, and if they do not 
 seek for the only dew which can moisten the 
 ® Matt. XXV, 24. ^ Eph. vi. 13. 
 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 SICKNESS A VOCATION. 
 
 ground, it becoiries very hard, or the seed withers 
 away. 
 
 Beware how you ever look upon yourself as cut 
 off from life and from enjoyment ; you are not cut 
 off, only taken apart, laid aside, it may be but for 
 a season, or it may be for life ; but still you are 
 part of the Body of which Christ is the Head. 
 
 Some must suffer and some must serve, but each 
 one is necessary to the other, ‘‘the whole body is 
 fitly framed together by that which every joint 
 suppliethV’ ‘‘the eye cannot say to the hand, I 
 have no need of thee : nor again the head to the 
 feet, I have no need of you Your feet may be 
 set fast ; they may have run with great activity, 
 and you sorrow now, because they can run no more. 
 But do not sorrow thus, do not envy those who are 
 running; you have a work to do; it may be the 
 work of the head, or of the eye, it surely is what- 
 ever work God gives to you. It may be the work 
 of lying still, of not stirring hand or foot, of scarcely 
 speaking, scarcely showing life. Fear not: if He 
 your Heavenly Master has given it to you to do, 
 it is His work, and He will bless it. Do not refine. 
 Do not say. This is work, and. This is not; how do 
 you know ? What work, think you, was Daniel 
 doing in the lions’ den? or Shadrach, Meshach, 
 and Abednego in the fiery furnace? Their work 
 was “glorious, laudable, and honourable,” — they 
 were glorifying God in suffering. 
 
 “ If we truly knew what sorrow is, we should 
 count it a high calling to be allowed to minister 
 the least word of consolation to the afflicted. 
 Therefore if we be called to suffer, let us under- 
 stand it to be a call to a ministry of healing. God 
 is setting us apart to a sort of pastoral office, to 
 the care of the sick of His flock. There is a hidden 
 « Eph. iv. 16. 
 
 9 1 Cor. xii. 21. 
 
SICKNESS A VOCATION, 
 
 21 
 
 ministry which works in perfect harmony with the 
 orders of His Church ; a ministry of secret com- 
 fort, diffusing itself by the power of sympathy and 
 prayer. Within His visible Church are many 
 companies of sorrow, many that weep alone, a 
 fellowship of secret mourners ; and to them the 
 contrite and humbled are perpetually ministering, 
 shedding peace, often unawares. Things that 
 they have learned in seasons of affliction, long- 
 pondered thoughts, realities learned by suffering, 
 perceptions of Cod’s love and presence, — all these 
 are put in trust with them for the consolation of 
 His elect. They know not oftentimes to whom 
 they speak. Perhaps they have never seen them, 
 nor ever shall. Unknown to each other, they are 
 knit in bonds higher than all the ties of blood ; 
 they are joined and constituted in that higher 
 unity which is the order of Christ’s kingdom. 
 When all the relations of this lower life shall be 
 dissolved, the bonds of their heavenly kindred 
 shall be revealed. Mourners and comforters shall 
 meet at last in the holy city. ‘ And Cod shall 
 wipe away all tears from their eyes ; and there 
 shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, 
 neither shall there be any more pain ; for the 
 former things are passed away h’ ” 
 
 To this ministry of healing” you are called, 
 you are “ set apart to it ” by suffering : you learn 
 how to fulfil it, by the “ things which you suffer^.” 
 You must go deep into the waters to know how 
 cold they feel, and how deep they are. Many a 
 time you have thought that you should be drowned, 
 ^‘the deeps have swallowed you up^;” but you 
 have been taught by sorrow to know more of the 
 love and faithfulness of Cod, than you could have 
 learned in any other way ; and now you are called 
 * Rev. xxi. 4. ^ jjeb. v. 8. ^ pg, jxix. 15. 
 
22 
 
 PROBABILITY OF RECOVERY; 
 
 to go down, into the waters with each one who 
 asks your help, to show them that there is sure 
 ground whereon to stand; to show them where 
 He is, who, though He may seem to be sleeping, 
 needs only that they should cry out, Lord, save 
 me : or I perish^.’’ 
 
 They may be trying to walk upon the waters, not 
 having as yet learned their own weakness: they 
 are sinking, and they cry to you for help. Here 
 is your work lying close beside you, brought even 
 to your sick bed : you have asked for work, here it 
 is ; be thankful for it, and ask Him to bless it. 
 Seek only to ‘‘fulfil your course,’’ to “do your 
 duty in the state of life unto which it hath pleased 
 God to call you and if it be a state of sickness, 
 rejoice that “you are counted worthy of this call- 
 ing and “ submit yourself wholly to His holy 
 will and pleasure ; and be sure that it shall turn 
 to your profit, and help you forward in the right 
 way that leadeth to everlasting life®.” 
 
 VII. 
 
 PROBABILITY OF RECOVERY; OPPOSITE 
 TEMPTATIONS ABOUT IT. 
 
 Even if you have been brought to look upon 
 your’s as a life-long sickness, there are times when 
 the possibility of recovery comes before you. 
 Sometimes it may be with an eager desire, almost 
 an impatient longing ; at other times perhajis with 
 a hope that it will never be, an aversion to the 
 very idea of it ; and again at other times with a 
 morbid indifference ; and yet again, as almost a 
 ludicrous imagination. 
 
 * Matt. viii. 25. * 2 Thess. i. 11. 
 
 ® Service for the Visitation of the Sick. 
 
OPPOSITE TEMPTATIONS ABOUT IT. 
 
 23 
 
 Probably, when first illness came upon you, you 
 were either most earnest in your desires and prayers 
 for recovery, or almost fearful lest you should re- 
 cover, eager and impatient to depart. 
 
 You were surely right to pray, and that earnestly, 
 that if it were the holy will of God, you might re- 
 cover your bodily health ; for health is a most pre-“ 
 cious gift, full of blessings, and duties, and respon- 
 sibilities, and sorrows, and enjoyments. Besides, 
 life is a wonderful and blessed gift from God, and 
 we ought to “ love life,"’ and heartily to give thanks 
 for our ‘‘creation and preservation, and all the 
 blessings of this life.” Perhaps your temptation 
 has been not to do so — to be careless of life and 
 health — to see no brightness and blessing in it, 
 only a wearisome burden which you mmt bear. 
 You may have found it a hard thing to join in the 
 thanksgiving for either creation or preservation. 
 At times you have, with a sinful longing, wished 
 your days here on earth were ended. You have 
 hoped and believed that you were ready to depart, 
 or at least you felt that God could make you so at 
 any moment. Instead of “seeing good days,” 
 your “ years ” have been those in which you said, 
 “ I have no pleasure in them h” You have dragged 
 on a weary load of discontent with life, and have 
 envied each one who was “ taken from the evil to 
 come.” You thought that you wished to “depart 
 and be with Christ; which is far better®;” but 
 were you not more anxious to get away from 
 trouble, and sorrow, and sighing ? How often you 
 have said, “ 0 that I had wings like a dove ! for 
 then would I fly away, and be at rest®.” You 
 would not enjoy life, you refused to do it. You 
 had much to make it sweet and pleasant to you ; 
 but you would not see the bright things, and 
 ^ Eccles. xii. 1 . Phil. i. 23. 9 Ps. Iv. 6. 
 
24 PHOBABILITY OF RECOVERY, &C. 
 
 thought that there was nothing but darkness all 
 around. You thought that you, at least, were not 
 dealt with lovingly — that all your ‘‘ pleasant pic- 
 tures were broken ; all that you loved best on 
 earth, the closest and the dearest ties severed, 
 and yet you were called to live. You could not 
 say from your heart, ‘‘ God is love,’’ love to me. 
 You thought that He dealt hardly with you. If 
 you were ill, you impatiently watched your symp- 
 toms, hoping that each one was fatal. You were 
 angry when friends said that you were better, and 
 yet more angry if any medical man said so ; never- 
 theless, you believed that they did not know and 
 understand, for you were resolved to die ! and yet 
 compelled to live. 0 how your spirit was chafed 
 and fretted because of what seemed to you such 
 an unreasonable delay, such a long waiting here 
 below. You have often perhaps prayed for work, 
 and yet, when you have had it given you to do, it 
 has not seemed enough for your desires or capaci- 
 ties ; or not the kind suited to you ; and so your 
 spirit has never been at rest, it has been feding 
 after something which it has never found. 
 
 Isa. ii. 16. 
 
PART IL 
 
 TEIALS AND TEMPTATIONS OF 
 SICKNESS. 
 
 PERSONAL TRIALS. 
 
 I. 
 
 PAIN. 
 
 It is a question often asked, Which is the hardest 
 to bear, pain or weakness ? Some sick persons 
 speak of one as much easier to bear than the 
 other. They are, perhaps, in a long illness almost 
 inseparable, and so blended that it is scarcely pos- 
 sible to say which suffering is to be classed under 
 each head. There are pains quite distinct from 
 weakness ; and weakness is perhaps not always 
 accompanied by pain. Those words, “ nothing is 
 left but weakness,"’ it is mere weakness,” are as 
 hopeless as any that can be uttered in a long and 
 weary illness. No matter whether there is any 
 cause for the weakness or not, the trial of it is the 
 same. 
 
 Some people are endowed with much more natural 
 courage and fortitude than others ; to them it is 
 not so difficult to bear acute pain, if it be but for 
 a season ; but when it is to be long drawn out, 
 
26 
 
 PAIN. 
 
 then it requires great patience , and patience and 
 fortitude are not always combined. There is a 
 peculiar character in severe pain when it is first 
 brought home to us. It seems to bring all the sins 
 of our lives before us, and to “ speak to us with 
 a piercing emphasis.'” It seems to “'take away all 
 the imaginative and visionary parts of our life, and 
 to turn them all into an impressive reality ‘‘ The 
 iron enters into our soul We cannot understand 
 it ; the nature of pain is quite incomprehensible, its 
 offices are hidden from us ; we know nothing of its 
 course, how then can we know its nature and 
 objects? Yet ‘‘if we ponder on the incompre- 
 hensible nature of pain, mental and bodily ; of its 
 invisibleness, its vividness, its exceeding sharpness 
 and penetrating omnipresence in our whole being, 
 of its inscrutable origin, and the indissoluble link 
 which binds it to sin ; and lastly, its mysterious 
 relation to the passion and perfection of our Lord, 
 — we shall see reason to believe that a power so 
 near and awful has many energies, and fulfils many 
 designs in God’s kingdom, secret from us.” 
 
 Some pains are very much more difficult to bear 
 than others ; those especially which affect the head, 
 and prevent all mental application. Also some in- 
 ternal pains are of exquisite sharpness, and in many 
 ways involve peculiar trial to those who suffer from 
 them. The consciousness that certain diseases are 
 absolutely loathsome — that it requires an effort of 
 love or duty to give the necessary attendance on 
 them, involving, as they do, trials inexpressible and 
 inconceivable, so that life is made up of mere en- 
 durance. These, and many other illnesses, such as 
 constant sickness, and inability to retain food, in 
 a peculiar manner teach us that these are “ bodies 
 of humiliation,'*'' and make us to understand some- 
 
 ' Ps. cv. 18. 
 
PAIN. 
 
 27 
 
 thing of the wonderful meaning and blessing of the 
 promise, He shall change our vile body, and 
 fashion it like unto His glorious body, according 
 to the working wherewith He is able even to sub- 
 due all things unto Himself 
 
 There is a large class of pains which gain but 
 little sympathy, and yet which cause great suffering 
 to those who have them to bear. It may be some 
 little thing, but which admits of no remedy ; it may 
 be some hidden thing, which medical men can 
 neither explain nor remove, but which may as effec- 
 tually scourge the sufferer as any knotted cord could 
 do. We may call it an inglorious pain, because 
 the bearing of it brings no honour, no credit. The 
 pain goes on, there is no abatement ; years pass on, 
 and still it is there, as fresh to you in its trial and 
 suffering as when it first began ; but the novelty has 
 passed ; the vigorous efforts of fortitude are over: it 
 wears you day by day ; friends have mostly forgotten 
 it ; at times, some one asks whether you still suffer 
 from it, and you feel that it is very kind of them to 
 remember it ; but for the most part the tale of your 
 suffering is forgotten, and you must bear it alone, 
 as far as man is concerned. You have spoken to 
 many physicians. Some see nothing in it worthy of 
 notice ; others for want of a better name call it 
 nervous ; and some tell you that there is no remedy, 
 it will remain with you whilst you live. Well, be 
 it so ! No length of years or continuance of pain 
 \yill ever cause Him who sends it to forget your 
 suffering, or that you cannot bear it for a moment 
 without His help ; and He who appoints the length 
 and measure of the suffering, does not send it forth 
 from His presence, and forget what He has done, 
 and how He has caused you to suffer. He will be 
 near you, for it is His msiiation^ The only fear 
 2 Phil. iii. 21. 
 
28 
 
 PAIN. 
 
 is lest you should forget His nearness, not realize 
 it, or ask His help, but fancy that use will enable 
 you to bear it alone. If you do so, then you will 
 cease to be able to bear ifc, and will become ‘‘ like 
 a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke\‘*’ Ask God 
 to give you that living faith which would see the 
 hand of God bringing the sickness ; fitting it in all 
 its minutest parts to your character and needs ; 
 holding it that it shall not press too heavily even on 
 the tenderest parts ; and to enable you to see how 
 it is working out for you ‘‘a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory.” This faith would 
 enable you to ‘‘ look not at the things which are 
 seen, but at the things which are not seen\” 
 
 Do not try to measure or contrast pain ; to find 
 out whether it is greater or less than that which 
 you hear of in some other person, or than what you 
 have suffered at another time. Bear it simply as 
 it is, not as you think it might be modified. Do 
 not be too eager and restless to get it relieved or 
 removed. Until it is the will of God that it should 
 be so, bear it silently, patiently, as to the Lord, 
 and not to men 
 
 Look up to Him for the blessing, and you will 
 surely have it. At times it may seem almost 
 impossible to bear it, and yet more so to have to 
 bear it any longer. It would be impossible if the 
 burden rested upon you, but ‘‘ He giveth more 
 grace®;” He ‘‘ Himself bore our sicknesses^.” He 
 knows the measure and the number of your pains. 
 ‘‘ In His love and His pity®” hath He afflicted you, 
 and as ‘‘ He bore you and carried you in the days 
 of old,” so will He now, and even unto the end, 
 however distant that may be. 
 
 3 Jer. xxxi. 18. 
 5 Eph. vi. 7. 
 
 ^ Matt. viii. 17. 
 
 4 2 Cor. iv. 17, IB. 
 ^ James iv. 6. 
 
 ® Isa. Ixiii. 9. 
 
WEAKNESS. 
 
 29 
 
 II. 
 
 WEAKNESS. 
 
 Weakness forms a great part of all sicknesses, of 
 what kind soever they may be ; and it is a state 
 full of trial, full of temptation. To each one it 
 seems to be ‘‘ a land which no man passeth 
 through V’ yet “a multitude, that no man can 
 number V’ are walking there continually, each one 
 thinking that he is alone. It differs so much in 
 degree and kind, that no one can measure it for 
 another. Even the sick often misunderstand each 
 other about it, and fancy that because they can do 
 certain things, therefore every one else can. This 
 is a very great mistake, for weakness affects people 
 in very different ways, differing according to the 
 disease and constitution. One, may not be able 
 to leave his bed ; another, may not be at all less 
 really ill, yet may be able to go about the house, 
 to bear a drive, perhaps even a short walk; an- 
 other, may be unable to bear to see even a friend, or 
 to talk at all, and yet perhaps may be able to get up 
 and dress ; another, may be unable to talk ; an- 
 other, to write at all ; another, to read or use the 
 mind in any way, without the most painful results. 
 One, may be able to bear a great deal of noise; 
 another, none at all ; and the utmost irritation of 
 nerve and mind may be produced by noises in the 
 house or the street, a door slammed, a loud tone 
 of voice, or even the merry voice of a happy child. 
 One, may like to have a light room because it is 
 cheerful; another, may not be able to bear any 
 light. One, may be unable to bear a voice read- 
 ing aloud; another, may enjoy it, and find it very 
 soothing : to one, the effort of attention may be 
 
 ^ Jer. ii, 6. 
 
 Rev. vii. 9. 
 
so 
 
 WEAKNESS. 
 
 impossible ; to another, it may be an easier thing 
 than to read to himself, or to converse: yet in 
 reality one may not be more ill than another ; only 
 weakness shows itself in very different ways. 
 Therefore judge ye not, that ye be not judged % 
 but leave it all to Him who is a ‘‘ righteous judge, 
 strong and patient 
 
 It is quite certain, that of the many forms of 
 trial and temptation presented by weakness, each 
 one ought to be resisted earnestly, but quietly, or 
 they will increase greatly, and would then be all 
 but impossible to overcome. If noise tries you, 
 remember that by yielding to your distress at it, 
 and getting friends to remove every cause of it, so 
 far as it is possible, you put yourself more into a 
 position of minding it. If, instead of having every 
 one come into your room, or walk about the house, 
 in slippers, you try to use yourself to their natural 
 step, it will save them from much annoyance ; and 
 if you are resolved to bear it, by degrees you will 
 find that you mind it less and less. If when chil- 
 dren come into your room you always hush them, 
 you deprive them of much pleasure in coming to 
 see you, make their visits constrained and irksome, 
 and deprive yourself of the enjoyment of their 
 merry ways, and all their freedom of love and 
 play ; and you give them the impression, perhaps 
 for life, that a sick room is a very melancholy 
 place, to be shunned, and only visited from neces- 
 sity. Y ou little know the effect that this impres- 
 sion may have on them for evil, or the contrary 
 impression for good. For the sake of the children, 
 they should be reminded that in a sick room they 
 must be quieter than elsewhere ; they should not 
 be allowed to be boisterous, but be early taught to 
 consider the ‘‘sick and the needy 
 2 Matt. vii. 1. 2 Ps. vii. 12. 
 
 * Ps. xli. 1. 
 
WEAKNESS. 
 
 31 
 
 For your own sake, never indulge yourself about 
 noise, or light, or any other thing ; the power of 
 bearing increases with habit, and by resolution. 
 But, if the temptation is yielded to, the power (or 
 the supposed capability) diminishes, until at last 
 you would become really incapable of bearing 
 almost any thing. The out-door noises you can 
 never get rid of, and they are the most difficult of 
 any to get used to ; in certain states they never 
 cease to distress, and seem each day to become 
 more painful and intolerable. The only remedy is 
 to say, ‘‘ I am placed here by God. Here is my 
 work. If I try to escape from it, I shall sin against 
 God. It is meant for my trial. He, I know, will 
 help me to bear it, minute by minute ; and for the 
 rest, It is the will of Gody 
 
 There are states of physical suffering, in which 
 noise and light must, as far as possible, be shut 
 out for a season ; but they are the exceptions, and 
 w^e are speaking of ordinary cases. In every way, 
 the fewer invalid habits you have, the better it will / 
 be for your health and happiness, and that of all ' 
 about you. They grow so fast upon sick people, 
 that they should be earnestly resisted in their 
 earliest stage. Sick people should try to count as 
 few things necessary as possible, and deny them- 
 selves in little things, so that selfishness may not 
 grow upon them faster than at other times. 
 
 Yes, truly, you have a fight to maintain, in 
 order not to become morbid, and selfish, and in- 
 different to all around. You feel oftentimes as if 
 you were shut up to suffering ; you have a constant 
 burden of languor and pain to bear, your mind is 
 weakened, you feel it so difficult to fix your thoughts 
 at all ; you try to do so ; the effort seems to in- 
 crease your difficulty. All things seem to you to 
 be flitting. You try to think ; you take a subject, 
 
82 
 
 WEAKNESS. 
 
 but soon, alas ! you say, What was I thinking of ? 
 my thoughts are gone ! Do not try to gather, 
 them up : as water spilled on the ground V’ so 
 are they. Do not distress yourself, it is part of 
 your disease ; you must be passive now, and let 
 Him work. Ask Him to “put into your mind 
 good desires ® it is only by “ His holy inspi- 
 ration that we think those things that be good 
 Lie still ; and, if we may say it reverently, let Him 
 think in you. 
 
 Perhaps you are tried by being able to remember 
 bad things but too easily, although the better 
 things depart from you. Perhaps they may be 
 things which you have heard years ago, heard 
 accidentally, which you would not for the world 
 have heard or known ; or things which you think 
 so bad, that you could not have heard them. Yet 
 now in your weakness these things start up, and 
 tease, and haunt you, and make you think yourself 
 given over to Satan to be tempted. This is indeed 
 a very sore trial, but a very common one. That 
 Satan does take advantage of our weakness, there 
 can be no doubt ; but there is One stronger than 
 he, who will not suffer us to be “ tempted above 
 that we are able ; but will with every temptation 
 make a way for our escape He who was 
 tempted of Satan knows your sorrow. He was 
 not only tempted by, but overcame, the devil. He 
 overcame him for you. The devil “ shall not have 
 dominion over you ^ but do not take the matter 
 into your own hands ; do not parley with the 
 tempter, or he will tempt you further. Say at 
 once, “ Get thee behind me, Satan : for thou 
 savourest not of the things of God k” Do not 
 
 ^ 2 Sam. xiv. 14. ® Collect for Easter Day. 
 
 7 Collect for Fifth Sunday after Easter. 
 
 * 1 Cor. X. 13. ^ Rom. vi. 14. 
 
 1 Mark viii. 33. 
 
WEAKNESS. 
 
 S3 
 
 listen to him, go on crying to your Father, as if no 
 voices were spoken into your ears ; and if still they 
 drown ‘‘ the voice of your petition,’’ cry the more 
 earnestly He who wrestled with Satan was in 
 an agony. Your agony can never be so great; 
 but you may well cry out, ‘‘’By Thine agony and 
 bloody sweat, good Lord, deliver me.” He is very 
 near to you, pitying and strengthening you. Ho 
 not argue at all with yourself or Satan; do not 
 analyze your thoughts ; do not say, Where could 
 I have heard this ? There is no safety in doing 
 so ; only do not seem to heed, but go on calling 
 upon the Lord. The trial may often return. Do 
 not suppose that, when it seems to be overcome, 
 it will assault you no more. But its power will 
 surely weaken, if you treat it thus, until at last 
 the enemy will depart, not for a season only ; but 
 finding that point well guarded, will find some 
 other place of attack. Do not torment yourself 
 with thinking how mmch worse and more wicked 
 you must be than formerly. This is no proof. 
 If Satan could offer evil suggestions to our Lord, 
 “Is the disciple above his master, and the servant 
 above his lord®?” But do not dwell on it; in 
 your weak state it will but increase the evil ; if 
 you resist it instantly, it does not become si% but 
 only a bitter trial; if you harbour it, and revolve 
 the thoughts (more than your weakness surely will 
 do), you then turn it into sin ; otherwise you may 
 meet the trial with the only safe words to meet all 
 trials, “ It is the will of God,’"'' 
 
 In like manner seek to resist all the evil thoughts 
 which offer themselves to you ; they will come 
 down upon you in the form of irritability, of im- 
 patience, of discontent, of murmuring, of inor- 
 
 * Luke xxii. 44. 
 
 3 Matt. X. 24. 
 D 
 
34 
 
 WEAKNESS. 
 
 dinate craving for sympathy, of fearfulness, of the 
 hopelessness of unending suffering, of isolation. 
 These are hard trials to bear, especially as they 
 often receive not only no pity from others, but 
 even aggravation ; not from, unkindness, but from 
 ignorance and thoughtlessness. 
 
 It is against these fiery darts of the wicked 
 that in weakness it is so peculiarly difficult to hold 
 up the “shield of faith,*” which can alone keep 
 them from entering into the soul. 
 
 Another trial in weakness is the difficulty of 
 saying the right w^ord, the word that you intend ; 
 you know perfectly wJiat word you would say, and 
 know that you say another not meaning the same 
 thing ; you ask to have a thing given you which is 
 quite different from what you want, or you say 
 just what you do not intend, and so do not get the 
 thing which you want. 
 
 This is very trying, but it is mere physical weak- 
 ness. Do not be distressed or tormented by it, it 
 will pass away when you get stronger, in the mean 
 time bear it as a humiliation, and instead of being 
 fretted by it, say, “ It is the will of God.’"'" 
 
 Even as one can know nothing of a foreign 
 country unless one has either been there or has 
 read with care descriptions of it, and tried to 
 realize them ; so no one who has not had sickness 
 themselves, or carefully watched those who are 
 sick, can have any idea of the real state of things. 
 Friends do not see that after one of their visits, 
 which for the time you may have enjoyed, you lie 
 down quite exhausted, and, for it may be an hour 
 or longer, you can do nothing, neither read nor 
 think. Then perhaps you take up a book ; in a 
 little while exhaustion overtakes you again, and 
 
 ^ Eph. vi. 16, 
 
WEAKNESS. 
 
 thus you spend your days ; every exertion calling 
 for seasons of rest; and your time not only all 
 broken, but never to be reckoned on, for your 
 strength varies from day to day ; and sometimes 
 the whole day is spent in a state little removed 
 from unconsciousness, if . that means incapability 
 of understanding, for you are deeply conscious of 
 wearing languor, and exhaustion quite unutterable. 
 Or, your time may be spent in merely bearing 
 pain, in using the necessary remedies, and in 
 resting afterwards ; or, it may be that you are 
 feverish and restless, and need, as the only real 
 remedy, to lie perfectly still, without moving or 
 doing any thing ; or some particular pain or 
 ' suffering of the brain may be increased by every 
 employment, and you are necessarily doomed to 
 idleness for most part of the day. Besides this, 
 your time is dependent on others. Persons in 
 health, if they wish to be alone, can go out and 
 walk, or go into another room ; but you cannot. 
 Where you are, there you must remain, and must 
 be subject to persons coming in, and staying as 
 long as they like. However indisposed you may 
 be for interruptiom in what you may be doing, you 
 must receive it as your present discipline, and not 
 discourage your friend, lest another time he should 
 feel that he was in the way before, and so not come 
 at all. This being at the mercy of others ; ina- 
 bility to shut any out, or even to lock the door 
 for himself, are great and constant trials to sick 
 people. You may have abundance of spare time 
 but the power to work may rarely be given you . 
 and even when it seems to be, or when by reso- 
 lution you endeavour to rise above your weakness, 
 then the heart only knows the suffering that it 
 costs; the painful effort at the time ; the exceed- 
 ing distress which follows ; the extreme discourage- 
 
 n 2 
 
86 
 
 WEAKNESS. 
 
 ment ; and the sense of annihilation of mind ; the 
 very life of the body seeming to consist in its 
 misery and helplessness and suffering ; and then 
 every nerve seems strung up to suffering, and you 
 seem to know where every nerve is, by its calling 
 out to you in a voice of anguish. You hear some 
 footstep on the stairs, and earnestly hopo that at 
 least no one is coming near to you ; you feel that 
 you must speak unkindly to any one who comes ; 
 you have just time to cry out, Lord, help me,’ 
 Have mercy upon me, 0 Lord ; for I am weak V 
 when some one enters your room. Well, do not 
 fear; go on saying those words in your own heart ; 
 you surely will be helped, you shall not be con- 
 founded®.” Your friend leaves you; you have, 
 thanks be to God, been enabled to avoid express- 
 ing your suffering, but you think that your tone 
 or manner manifested it. You feel that even if 
 you did avoid saying any tiling which might be 
 sinful, that it was in your heart ; you feel crushed 
 and desponding, for you know that the utmost 
 irritability and impatience were there. That phy- 
 sical nervous irritability, unutterable in its extent, 
 causes you a continual and bitter conflict to subdue 
 even the outward appearance of it. To ‘‘ rest in 
 the Lord, and wait patiently for HimV’ is the 
 only thing for you to do. 
 
 Though at one time you may greatly dread to 
 hear the sound of footsteps, at another, your trial 
 may be, that you have been lying alone for a long 
 time. Very sad thoughts have been gathering 
 around and within ; you have said, ‘‘ I am for- 
 gotten, as a dead man out of mind®.” Perhaps 
 you may have been thinking of your loneliness, of 
 your life-long illness, (as you suppose it to be,) of 
 
 ^ Ps. vi. 2. 
 
 ^ Ps. xxxvii. 7* 
 
 ® 1 Pet. ii. 6. 
 
 ® Ps. xxxi. 12. 
 
WEAKNESS. 
 
 37 
 
 your inability to do the many things that you long 
 to do ; of the future, all dark and dreary ; of 
 friends who are gone into the world unseen, who 
 could have understood you, and would have sympa- 
 thized with you, and not left you so lonesome and 
 comfortless ; then you fancy that you are a trouble 
 to all around ; a burden, a mere cypher, except for 
 the trouble you give ; you go on perhaps to fancy 
 that they do not love you, and you feel isolated, 
 and sad, and lonely, and say, “ Lord, how long*?’'' 
 
 Presently some one comes to you ; perhaps it is 
 one of the family, just looked in to say some kind 
 word, to bring you a book that they think may 
 interest you ; of a letter, or a flower, or a message 
 from some friend ; perhaps it is only the oft un- 
 cared-for message of love — “ So-and-so sends her 
 love to you.’’*' It is enough ; the whole current of 
 your thoughts is changed ; you see how foolishly 
 you have charged your friends, that the isolation 
 and want of love was in you^ not in them ; and so 
 you feel cheered and braced to go on your way 
 afresh. Sometimes even a servant coming into the 
 room on some errand will be sufficient to divert 
 the thoughts into another channel. Yes; could 
 your friends really read your thoughts, and see 
 the change in them, what pains they would take 
 to give you messages, however trifling, that you 
 may know that you are remembered, and still 
 ‘‘preserved in the unity of the Church^® i’"* How 
 anxiously they would watch to bring you little 
 trifles that may give you pleasure ! they would 
 feel, too, that when they visit you, they should in- 
 troduce the subjects of conversation generally, 
 because you need to have the current of your 
 thoughts often changed, and because you have so 
 
 » Ps. vi. 3. 
 
 Service for the Visitation of the Sick, 
 
38 
 
 LOSS OF THE POWERS OF MIND. 
 
 painful a sense of weakness, that, besides the effort 
 to rouse yourself to exertion, you feel as if you 
 could suggest nothing. Never forget that there is 
 One who knows all your weakness. “ He knoweth 
 your frame ; and remembereth that you are dust k*” 
 Be sure that when you cry, ‘‘ Have mercy upon 
 me, 0 Lord ; for I am weak V’ yo^ will never cry 
 in vain, but will always have reason to say, ‘‘ I 
 am poor and needy ; yet the Lord thinketh upon 
 
 III. 
 
 LOSS OF THE POWERS OF MIND. 
 
 The Church has classed together ‘‘ age, weakness, 
 and sickness The trials which they bring are 
 in many respects the same. In how many points 
 that beautiful description of age in Ecclesiastes 
 applies to your state ! The years are come^ they 
 no longer draw nigh,’’ in which you shall say, ‘‘ I 
 have no pleasure in them.” ‘‘ The sun, or the 
 light, or the moon, or the stars,” seem darkened 
 to you, they have lost their brightness and glad- 
 ness. ‘‘The clouds return after the rain,” they 
 but gather again when they seem to have dis- 
 persed. As yet you “ see not the bright light that 
 there is in®” them. “The keepers of the house 
 tremble, and the strong men bow themselves,” and 
 “ those that look out of the windows are darkened.” 
 Your judgment is strangely weakened. Perhaps 
 you used almost to pride yourself on the rapidity 
 with which you came to a decision on all subjects 
 
 ^ Ps. ciii. 14. ^ Ps. vi. 2. ® Ps. xl. 17. 
 
 ^ Service for the Visitation of the Sick. 
 
 * Eccles. xii. ® Job xxxvii. 21. 
 
LOSS OF THE POWERS OF MIND. 
 
 89 
 
 that came before you ; now, how slowly and un- 
 willingly you decide ! One moment the point 
 seems settled — and the next, a host of fears over- 
 turn, or at least shake it. Then you, who used 
 to scorn to ask for help in deciding little things, or 
 even great, turn to other people to help you, or 
 rather to decide for you ; they do not see, or seem 
 to you to see, the whole of the question, and all its 
 bearings. You are dissatisfied; that decision will 
 not do to act upon ; you must decide for yourself, 
 deeply conscious that your own clear sight is con- 
 fused and darkened ; that you have lost the power 
 of balancing things. Then, when you have decided, 
 when any step has been taken, 0 what misgivings 
 follow ! — Perhaps I did wrong ; I think it would 
 have been better to have decided thus or thus. Is 
 it too late to change?” Perhaps you find it is; 
 never mind, our first thoughts are often the truest ; 
 and when we have indulged in second thoughts we 
 often find them erroneous, and return to our first 
 thoughts. The truth is, your judgment is not to 
 be trusted just now, it must share in the general 
 weakness ; but be sure of this, that if you commit 
 it and yourself to ‘‘ Him who judges righteously V’ 
 He will surely ‘‘ teach you the way in which you 
 should go ‘‘ The meek will He guide in judg- 
 ment, and such as are gentle shall learn His way 
 If you trust Him to decide, you will not go wrong ; 
 and the less you refine about it, and turn and re- 
 turn all the circumstances of the case, the better. 
 It is often seen, that those who are in sickness, 
 and the most deeply conscious of their own failure 
 - of power, and of the slowness of their judgment 
 and perception, are the very people who are the 
 most to be trusted for counsel, advice, or decisions ; 
 because they go wholly out of themselves, mis- 
 ^ J3r. xi. 20. ® Ps. xxxii. 8. ^ Ps. xxv. 9. 
 
40 
 
 LOSS OF THE POWERS OF MIND. 
 
 trusting themselves entirely, and look unto ‘Hhe 
 Counsellor^'” for every thing, and speak His words 
 rather than their own. To them there seems to 
 be a heavenly instinct given, so that it is evident 
 that ‘‘the secret of the Lord is with them that 
 fear Him Do not mourn the loss of any thing 
 which was merely your own, or which you used to 
 fancy was such. “ Cod has provided some better 
 thing for you^'’‘' Deceive His gifts thankfully, and 
 He will give them to you richly. 
 
 What has been said above of judgment, may be 
 said of memory also. Do not think your trial 
 peculiar, if you find, as the saying is, that you 
 have “ lost your memory.'*'' The failure of memory 
 is one of the sure accompanirnents of weakness ; 
 it depends mainly on the state of the health, and 
 will probably by slow degrees return, and regain 
 its power, if you recover your strength. It varies, 
 too, even in weakness, from day to day, often 
 merely from the state of the stomach or nerves. 
 It fails in very different manners and degrees. 
 Some persons will lose all power of remembering 
 little things belonging to daily life ; their minds 
 will be tormented by being asked to remember any 
 thing, or to remind another person of it. Others, 
 will lose all memory of names or dates ; whilst 
 others will have a fidgety exactness of memory in 
 those points, and will be, perhaps, very much 
 fretted if other people do not remember things as 
 they do, and as minutely and particularly. Others, 
 cannot remember any thing that they read, how- 
 ever deeply it interests them. To some, the re- 
 membrance of a fact in history, or life, however 
 well known formerly, is quite an impossibility. 
 Others, will lose all verbal memory — they could 
 scarcely even repeat words after another person. 
 
 * Isa. ix. 6. 2 ps, XXV. 14. 3 jjeb. xi. 40. 
 
LOSS OF THE POWERS OF MIND. 
 
 41 
 
 Others, may have stores of poetry in their minds, 
 which now they cannot touch or lay hold of. In 
 some cases there will be many of these things 
 occurring together. Some people are especially 
 tried by inability to repeat, or remember correctly, 
 any words of Scripture, or the Services of the 
 Church, with which they are so familiar. •Some- 
 times they could not finish a Collect which another 
 person began to repeat. This is very^trying ; and 
 the more so because Satan would get an advan- 
 tage of us ^ ’’ thereby, and try to persuade the 
 sufferer that it proves a much lessened value for 
 these things. The remedies for this trial are : — 
 
 1. Not to burden your memory at all in any 
 little things, but to write them down ; to do this 
 with all little things and with messages ; never to 
 try to remember them, but to keep the mind free 
 and unfettered for better recollections. 
 
 2. Never strain the memory, or task it much or 
 long ; be as content now with one sentence, as you 
 might formerly have been with many pages. 
 
 3'. Try and learn some little verse from the 
 Scriptures, or poetry,* each day — ^just enough to 
 keep the memory a little exercised ; for the habit 
 of forgetting grows apace. 
 
 4. Think as little as possible about it; try, as 
 far as you can, to act and speak as you used to do, 
 without prefacing your words or thoughts with how 
 you have lost your memory. 
 
 *5. When you feel the loss very much, do not 
 worry yourself by lamenting it — that will increase 
 the evil. 
 
 6. Remember always who has sent you the trial ; 
 that He knows it belongs to your weakness, and 
 how trying it is; that He judges you with “just 
 judgment,'*' and does not think you love His holy 
 ^ 2 Cor.ii. 11. 
 
42 
 
 LOSS OF THE POWERS OF MIND. 
 
 word the less, because you cannot say it correctly, 
 and have forgotten so much of it. It is very 
 humbling certainly ; you cannot appear as you 
 feel that you deserve to do to your friends ; you 
 cannot enter into conversation with the same plea- 
 sure to yourself, if to others ; you feel that you are 
 a wreck of your former self and mind. All this 
 He sees, and knows, and feels ; He sees that this 
 trial is necessary, or He would not have sent it ; 
 He will fulfil His promise, that the ‘‘Holy Ghost 
 will bring all things to your remembrance, what- 
 soever He hath spoken unto you Be sure that 
 nothing shall be lost. Whatever you want, “ for 
 doctrine, for reproof, for instruction, so that you 
 may be edified thereby®,’’ will be brought to 
 your mind, and taught to you. So that often they 
 who feel the most that memory is failing, seem to 
 learn the most freshly and vividly, truths which 
 they perhaps knew before but have forgotten; 
 now they come out afresh, and with a depth, and- 
 earnestness, and meaning never perceived before. 
 God Himself is teaching them. Sometimes indeed 
 a truth will come out with startling clearness, and 
 we feel that we have so received it that we can 
 never forget it; an hour after we. cannot even re- 
 member what the subject of it was ; we make 
 efforts to pursue and overtake it, but in vain. It 
 is not really gone ; it is only sunk into our hearts, 
 become a part of ourselves, laid up safely by Him 
 who taught it to us. He will know where it is, and 
 where to direct us to it, when we need it again. 
 Let us “ commit the keeping ” of our memories, 
 as well as our souls, to Him “as unto a faithful 
 Creator and as often as the sad thought of 
 want of memory returns, say “/if is the will of 
 God ; ” that alone can silence your murmurings. 
 
 ® John xiv. 26. ® 2 Tim. iii. 16, 17. ^1 Pet. iv. 19. 
 
LOSS OF THE POWERS OF MIND. 
 
 43 
 
 You have a painfully morbid sense of being un- 
 able to converse ; you feel either that you have 
 subjects apart from all others, or else, that from 
 illness and loneliness, you have lost the power to 
 think and converse and understand ; that you can 
 give no pleasure by what you say, and shall but 
 betray the exceeding feebleness of your mind, 
 which you so painfully feel is but the wreck of what 
 it once was. 
 
 When you hear conversation, if it is not ad- 
 dressed to you especially, you feel, ‘‘ This is quite 
 beyond me. 0 with what deep interest 1 used to 
 enter into these subjects ! I used to understand 
 them ; but they seem now as if they were spoken 
 in a foreign language, of which I have scarcely any 
 knowledge. I cannot follow it at all ; I should but 
 make strange blunders if I joined in it ; and if any 
 one asked me what had been the subject, 1 could 
 but vaguely tell ; and yet I used to be so familiar 
 with it !” 
 
 This is a peculiarly distressing feeling ; and the 
 more it is indulged in and thought of, the stronger 
 it becomes; until, at last, you get to fancy that 
 you cannot even understand the words^ and that 
 children’s books and talk are all you can attain ' 
 unto. Yet do not say to your friends that you 
 cannot understand them, and especially not in a 
 murmuring, fretful tone ; let them go on, you will 
 be sure to glean something from their conversa- 
 tion if you are patient, and not inwardly abstract^ 
 ing yourself, because you cannot bear the supposed 
 humiliation. The best way is at first, when these 
 thoughts arise, to say at once, “ Well, be it so : I , 
 will just listen, and join in the conversation when- 
 ever I can. Something I can understand ; and for 
 the rest, if my mind is so gone, who has taken it 
 
4t 
 
 THE NEARNESS OF LIFE. 
 
 away ? In murmuring, whom am I replying against ? 
 It is the will of GodT 
 
 The same applies to reading aloud. If you are 
 asked by any friend whether you should like to 
 hear reading, you can answer according to your 
 wishes and feeling of ability ; but if you are well 
 enough in any degree to join with the family, and 
 they are reading some book, do not ask them to 
 change it, or not to read, merely because you have 
 this feeling of inability to understand, or because a 
 continuous voice annoys you, and prevents all power 
 of attention (which to some sick people is always 
 the case with reading aloud) ; enter with cheer- 
 fulness and willingness into their pleasure, and tell 
 your pain only to Him who sees your heart. Then 
 you will surely have gained by it yourself, in pa- 
 tience, and humility, and charity. Take every 
 opportunity of trying to overcome the great diffi- 
 culty which you feel in taking an interest in other 
 people’s concerns, and the things which interest 
 them. It is a trial common to sickness, but should 
 be earnestly resisted, and may be wonderfully over- 
 come. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE NEARNESS OF LIFE. 
 
 When first the nearness of life, and yet its un- 
 approachableness, is realized, it is a very sore trial. 
 
 The sick person vainly hopes to become used to 
 it ; but be not deceived, it will not lessen. One 
 day you may fancy that you have got used to it ; 
 some little thing may arise which may reveal the 
 whole sad truth, and you find yourself just where 
 you were. You say, ‘‘ There is but a step between 
 
THE NEARNESS OF LIFE. 
 
 45 
 
 me and life but 0 that step ! how can it be 
 taken ? A few boards separate you from the family. 
 You hear their voices, you hear their laughter, at 
 times you catch words. Then family prayers begin : 
 once you did not value them; now, how gladly 
 would you hear them, but those few boards 
 shut out all but the occasional sound of a word. 
 Some one is added to the family party, (just as 
 you begin to fancy that you are reconciled to your 
 circumstances,) this person is more to you than to 
 them ; the tones ascend, but that is all ; perhaps 
 you will not even meet, at any rate you will lose 
 much of their company. 
 
 Or, perhaps, for a time you have been removed 
 to the house of some friend ; you long very much 
 to share in all their employments and pleasures ; 
 you faintly, dimly hear what goes on, but from the 
 sight and enjoyment of all you are shut out ; their 
 daily life is shut out from you ; you share it only 
 in their occasional — perhaps, rare, visits to you: 
 you have here a new lesson to learn, for nothing 
 so effectually tempts and tries a sick person. Truly 
 this is a trial : to seem to be separated from our 
 brethren, is apt to lead us into most untrue and 
 hard thoughts of them. When you hear the bell 
 ring to call the family together for some meal, you 
 long to be there, and think how much you are 
 hereby deprived of their company; how much 
 better you should know them ; how much conver- 
 sation you lose ; how many things you should like 
 to hear, and to ask, and to say ! 
 
 Sear it always in mind that you are now by the 
 will of God brought into a different state from 
 them, or from your former state ; called to new 
 duties and responsibilities, and comforts, and bless- 
 ings, and trials, and temptations : who called you I 
 — It is God’s visitation. 
 
46 
 
 LONGINGS. 
 
 V. 
 
 LONGINGS. 
 
 Many desires for that which you have not, or can- 
 not have, often arise in your mind ; sometimes they 
 are very painful to you. You feel that they are 
 wrong, and resist them : but again, at another time, 
 you feel as if they ought to be accomplished for 
 you, as if your friends should strive to gratify you : 
 you think that they must know them, that they 
 must realize how great a pleasure this or that would 
 be to you. Ask yourself whether this is reason- 
 able ? To take an instance. The longing for the 
 relief afforded even by crossing the room, they surejy 
 cannot be expected to understand, who can move 
 when, and as they will, — scarcely seeming to need 
 to will it. Fully to understand this, one must have 
 spent many weary months in the same position. 
 It is not love of change that causes it ; there is a 
 peculiar relief produced by it, the very movement 
 through the air seems to change the thoughts, and 
 throw off some sad feelings which are very hard 
 to shake off when circumstances are unchanged ; for 
 they seem to settle down and fasten upon the poor 
 weak body, and then to press on the weakened 
 mind, for ‘‘the corruptible body presseth down the 
 mind that museth on many things You see 
 life shut in by four walls, each wall having its own 
 peculiar pictures belonging to it. Do not expect 
 those to see them whose eyes have never painted 
 them, — neither the pictures, nor their black frames 
 will be visible to their eyes ; do not expect it, it is 
 unreasonable. The bright lights of nature will 
 perhaps never brighten those pictures to you ; but 
 there is a brighter light that can illuminate them 
 * Wisd. ix. 15. 
 
LONGINGS. 
 
 47 
 
 all, and change them all into pleasant pictures.*"' 
 Neither count your friends selfish if they cannot 
 understand your deep and irrepressible longing to 
 look once more on all the things in which you have 
 so intensely delighted. You may be burning with 
 a wasting desire just to see a field, a ‘‘ deep wood,*'*’ 
 or even a few trees, a wheat-field, a meadow wdth 
 cattle grazing, a river, or flowers growing. You 
 may repress it entirely to all appearance ; you may 
 never express it, there may be even a mournful 
 submission ; a sense that it is all right, and yet at 
 times the pain may be intense. It may suddenly 
 seize you, and seem as if you had no strength to 
 grapple with it ; you mii^t go, happen what may. 
 You think you can settle to nothing, until your 
 desire is granted. You mention it to a friend ; it 
 is treated first perhaps as mere nonsense, and you 
 are counted very foolish for wishing for impossi- 
 bilities — very unsubdued, for desiring any thing 
 that you cannot have. You say in your heart 
 (thank God if you do not say any reproachful 
 words aloud), “ How selfish it is of those who have 
 all these enjoyments not in the least to enter into 
 my desire, and only to throw it back on me ! 
 You shrink into yourself, and speak the wish no 
 more. But there it is ; there it burns, and well- 
 nigh consumes you. No one who has not expe- 
 rienced it can tell the trial of these desires, or the 
 sudden way in which they will seize hold of a sick 
 person. One moment he may think that he is 
 quite used to his lot ; the next, a desire may shoot 
 across his heart, which may show how far this is 
 from being attained. Yet be not discouraged; 
 these are but temptations : if rightly treated, they 
 may never pass into sin, but rather, by degrees, 
 strengthen submission. Only do not expect those 
 who have never experienced such a trial to under- 
 
48 
 
 LONGINGS. 
 
 stand it. People generally fancy that if a person 
 is confined for years to their bed, all these trials 
 must be overcome and belong to an early stage 
 of illness ; but it is not so. After ten years or 
 more of such confinement ; after even the suf- 
 ferer himself has looked on such conflicts as ended, 
 the flame may burst out suddenly, and cause great 
 distress. 
 
 These longings come in various ways : each sea- 
 son brings its own peculiar temptations. Perhaps 
 the greatest time of trial is the Spring ; and as 
 each Spring returns, the same fight seems to need 
 to be fought again. The trees begin to bud, the 
 almond-tree blossoms, and to some sick people 
 brings more of hope and pleasure than any other 
 blossom of the year. The trees are bursting, and 
 here am I still in my bed ; no change in me, except 
 that of increased suffering, and weakness, and 
 weariness. The air is getting fresher and more 
 free, ‘‘ the time of the singing of birds is come ^ 
 and their voices are very joyous ; yet I can scarcely 
 think them joyous ; they seem to tell how free and 
 blithe they are, and can fly whither they will, but 
 I am a prisoner and a captive.’" Others go into 
 the fresh air, and they only come in and say how 
 tired they are ; they rarely speak of enjoyment. 
 Oh ! how intensely I should enjoy every thing, if I 
 might, once more. The trees put forth their leaves, 
 and ‘‘ we know that summer is nigh Then each 
 day the poor sick one grows, at first more and more 
 eager, at last more and more desponding. It is 
 thi8 season in which I must go out. Autumn will 
 come soon ; I shall not care to go then ; it will be 
 chill and damp, and the trees will be losing their 
 summer brightness. Have pity upon me, have 
 pity upon me, 0 my friends^ !” and let me go out 
 
 ' Cant. ii. 12. ^ xxiv. 32. 3 xix. 21. 
 
LONGINGS. 
 
 49 
 
 now. There are few who have not known the 
 suffering of such desires. 
 
 Does it seem to you that it is in the power of 
 your friends to grant your desires ? that however it 
 might harm your body, it would refresh your spirit, 
 and enable you to go on your weary way rejoicing. 
 Perhaps it might be so : and these thoughts are 
 bitter drops in your cup of sorrow. There is no 
 harm in your saying, ‘‘ Father, if it be possible, let 
 this cup pass from me^.'’ He can take it away; 
 He loill if He sees that it will be good for you : 
 but if you find that the cup is still held to your 
 lips, then drink it, and learn to say, Thy will be 
 
 done.’’ Without this vou never can be contented. 
 
 •/ 
 
 Do not think, however, that because this spring 
 you have been but little tempted, that it is a sure 
 sign of such increased submission, that you will 
 never be tempted any more. The first snowdrop, 
 the first bud, may tempt you again. Or you may 
 pass safely through spring and summer, and an 
 earnest longing to see the harvest may possess you. 
 There may be no field within reach ; you may feel 
 each day that a desire is unsatisfied, the fulfilment 
 of which would have given you a start into life and 
 health. Or you may feel at any season of the year, 
 that if you could only be taken to the sea-side, you 
 should get well It may be impossible ; circum- 
 stances may make it so, or Medical men may for- 
 bid. Lie still then, and remember that there is a 
 Friend to whom ‘‘the secrets of all hearts are 
 opened, and from Him no desire is hid.” He 
 sees therefore your desire. “He will fulfil” it, if 
 it be for your real good ; “ for He is the ruler and 
 governor.” His “ never-failing providence ordereth 
 all things, both in heaven and earth.” Ask Him 
 to “ put away from you all hurtful things,” whether 
 ^ Matt. xxvi. 39. 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 • they be thoughts, or desires, or impulses, and to 
 ‘‘give you those things which be profitable."’ He 
 will surely do this for you ; for He is the “ Lord 
 of all power and might.” Only do not expect Him 
 to fulfil your desires always in the way you think 
 would be best. Leave it all to Him, who says, 
 “ Be still, and know that I am God^” 
 
 VI. 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 Do not seek to choose or to change your circum- 
 stances — they are the best, the very best for you. 
 “The only wise God®” has chosen them for you, 
 and that in true love ; for “the Lord is very piti- 
 ful, and of tender mercy 
 
 Neither seek to change the characters of those 
 about you ; for you are set amidst them for your 
 discipline and correction. 
 
 It is by no accident that those particular 
 characters are brought into contact with you — 
 your Father placed them there. Their foibles, 
 deficiencies, and mistakes are all for your profit. 
 They are meant to supply the discipline which is 
 gained in society, by those in health. Many of 
 the things which try us, are meant most kindly. 
 Always try to believe this, and receive each thing 
 as such, unless there be plain proof to the con- 
 trary. Is it the will of your heavenly Father that 
 you should be shut up in a town, when your whole 
 heart revels in country enjoyments? Does the 
 feeling of the deprivation seem to deepen each 
 day, instead of your becoming habituated to it? 
 Are you tempted to look upon it as wholly pre- 
 * Ps. xlvi. 10. ® 1 Tim. i. 17. ^ James v. 11. . 
 
CIRCUMSTAXCES. 
 
 51 
 
 eluding you from recovery ? Does the endless 
 noise seem to stir up all the impatience and rest- 
 lessness that is in you? Does it seem to come 
 between your very soul and God ? Do your eyes 
 rest for ever on the same dark, dead houses ? Oh, 
 how you long to see green trees and fields once 
 more ! how your heart longs for stillness, and feels 
 mournfully that these blessings are far away ! 
 
 Yet ask yourself, who placed you in the town ? 
 Do you say ‘‘circumstances?’’ Who rules cir- 
 cumstances? Who could in one hour fix your 
 lot in the country, and let it there abide ? God 
 placed you in that town. God knows all your 
 circumstances, for He placed you in them. He 
 sees them most minutely. He pities you most 
 tenderly with His “ great and endless pity,” but 
 He ‘‘ will not spare for the crying ® ” of the child. 
 
 If any other lot would have been equally good 
 for you ; if any other discipline would have taught 
 you as much of the evil of your own heart, or of 
 the love of God, depend upon it He would have 
 “ given you the lighter, and kept back the 
 heavier.” Do not argue with the tempter ; do 
 not let him persuade you that they are bad cir- 
 cumstances, unsuited to you ; but say at once, 
 “ Get thee behind me, Satan : for thou savourest 
 not the things that be of God God placed me 
 here — it is the will of God. “ God is loveh” I 
 know that this is the very best place for me, for I 
 was placed here by “ the only wise God.” There 
 is no other answer to all those questionings, temp- 
 tations, and suggestions. The same answer will 
 serve for every lot in life — for every trial : 
 
 ‘‘ To wise hearts this certain hope is given, 
 
 No mist that men may raise shall hide the eye of Heaven.’’ 
 
 ^ Mark viii.^3. 
 E 2 
 
 "John iv. 8. 
 
 ! 1 ^ 
 
 W* ^ 
 
 i'' * 
 
 L!3. 
 
 ® Prov. xix. 18. 
 
52 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 Always try to judge your friends by thdr cir- 
 cumstances, and not by your own. Try to look 
 at things from their point of view ; this will pre- 
 vent you from thinking them unkind or unsym- 
 pathizing. Do not call them selfish because they 
 cannot see into your circumstances, and feel the 
 pain and trial that there is in them. Many things 
 which you would enjoy as a little variety to your 
 life, are to them even mere matters of course, or 
 may even be annoyances. In the latter case, in 
 kindness they would try to prevent you from 
 having any share in them — in the former, they 
 form too much a part of their daily life for them 
 to be conscious that it is otherwise with you. A 
 remove perhaps from your bed to the sofa, is to 
 you some great thing. How can you expect sym- 
 pathy for it? A journey is a matter of great 
 suffering in prospect, at the time, and afterwards ; 
 but how can they understand your feelings about 
 It, who can go from place to place as they list ? 
 Ask yourself, Did you know how greatly these 
 things tempted and tried others, before you were 
 subjected to them? Well then, how can your 
 friends know them ? These are but ‘‘ ignorances,’’ 
 do not then call them want of love. They have 
 the refreshings of air and exercise, of seeing and 
 meeting with the family at meals and at other 
 times ; they take these things (as you did once) 
 as common mercies — things not to be noticed ; 
 and do not know the real effect for good which 
 they are having upon them; they cannot know, 
 therefore, what the deprivation is to you, or what 
 a fight you must maintain in order not to become 
 morbid and indifferent to all around. Neither 
 can they know those innumerable vexations which 
 so greatly haunt and distress you: — the inability 
 to follow people ; to say any thing, however neces- 
 
CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 53 
 
 sary it may be; the inability too, *to get at them 
 when you want to speak to them ; and so many 
 little burdens that must be borne, which could be 
 got rid of at once by speaking of them, and by 
 having the advice and aid of others. 
 
 Perhaps when they do come, you have forgotten 
 what you wanted to say to them ; or when you 
 have begun to speak to them, they are called 
 away, or remember something that they must do. 
 They promise to return directly, and either are 
 hindered or forget it; and you, meanwhile, are 
 waiting in expectation, perhaps in impatience. 
 
 Never forget that all your circumstances, even 
 the most minute, are in the hands of God. Look 
 at them only in this way, and not on each circum- 
 stance as an accident which may be removed. 
 Receive it as your present lot, as the expression 
 of the will of God towards you ; and then you will 
 find that as it is His ‘‘ yoke,’’*' He will make His 
 ‘‘yoke easy, and His burden light if it is borne 
 in His name ; and for His sake. 
 
 Thou cam’st not to thy place by accident, 
 
 It is the very place God meant for thee ; 
 
 And shouldst thou there small scope for action see, 
 
 Do not for this give room to discontent ; 
 
 , Nor let the time thou owest to God be spent 
 In idly dreaming how thou mightest be. 
 
 In what concerns thy spiritual life, more free 
 From outward hindrance or impediment : 
 
 For presently this hindrance thou shalt find 
 That without which all goodness were a task 
 So slight, that virtue never could grow strong : 
 
 And wouldst thou do one duty to His mind, 
 
 The Imposer’s — over-burden’d thou shalt ask, 
 
 And own thy need of grace to help, ere long.” 
 
 2 Matt. xi. 30. 
 
5i 
 
 EFFORTS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 EFFORTS. 
 
 A SUBJECT of great trial to all sick people is, 
 what they ought to do? what efforts they ought 
 to make ? They dread much more the moral and 
 spiritual effects of overtasking strength, than any 
 mere bodily pain. They know that with 'every 
 fresh exertion the weary languor increases, the 
 suffering of which no words can tell; that it is 
 not only suffering of body, but of soul, which is 
 involved in it : the languor hindering you from 
 prayer, until the spiritual sight becomes dim : the 
 nervousness too causing, such irritability, that the 
 day is spent in struggle and fear lest you should 
 grieve your Lord and Master. 
 
 The incapacity for all common duties, causing 
 the fear that you are sinfully self-indulgent ; the 
 discontent consequent on this ; the fear that 
 others will misunderstand you, and think that 
 indolence, which is to you great suffering ; the 
 endless length that your future life of pain and 
 weariness appears ^ the greatness of your sins ; 
 the fear that your way has been backward and 
 not forward ; the intense feeling of the want of 
 sympathy in those around. Sometimes your own 
 lovelessness actually taking the shape of aversion 
 to some one, which is indeed one of the most 
 trying of all the effects of exhaustion. The deep 
 depression, the consciousness too that weakness is 
 even influencing your voice and making you seem 
 unkind, when you are not so at heart, but the 
 impression that it is so, often at last producing the 
 reality. 
 
 These are some of the trials which result from 
 an effort made under great weakness ; and then 
 
EFFORTS. 
 
 55 
 
 too, there is that exceeding misery of what may 
 be called the pain of languor, when every bone 
 seems out of joint, and every nerve unstrung. 
 
 The burden of weakness which you are bearing, 
 makes it seem to you as if all cares and trials 
 centred in you, and that all must be borne and done 
 in this very moment of unutterable incapacity. 
 Then you feel that you shall never come out of it, 
 and that seems in itself a wearisome weight of 
 woe. To rouse yourself seems impossible ; to 
 take interest in any thing or person most difficult : 
 all you care for is to be left alone, not spoken to, 
 and to be able to feel for a little season that you 
 have no cares or responsibilities : nothing that 
 you mu8t attend to. Sometimes you must struggle 
 on, there is really no help for or escape from it ; 
 but even then, if you can get but a quarter of an 
 hour, or even ten minutes, the best remedy is to 
 lie perfectly still on your back, and your head as 
 little raised as you can comfortably bear, with 
 your arms by your sides, and your eyes shut, 
 resolving not to think at all ; do not make the 
 slightest effort, not even to move a limb, or to 
 speak ; do not even try to pray ; refuse all 
 thoughts, pleasant or painful; or rather do not 
 cherish or encourage any that offer themselves. 
 When you first adopt this practice, you will feel 
 and say that you cannot help thinking ; but go on 
 trying, and you will find that by degrees you 
 acquire the habit of not thinking ; and that it will 
 beconie most valuable discipline to you, and be 
 the greatest assistance in all your attempts at 
 acquiring self-control. Try this plan many times 
 in the day, according to your necessities, and the 
 time that you have to spare. If possible, never so 
 over-exert yourself as to get into the wretched 
 
EFFORTS. 
 
 56 . 
 
 state just described; but at any rate, unless it is 
 impossible, when you begin to feel that it is coming 
 on, lie down and be still. 
 
 But, you say, the question recurs, — What are 
 you to do ? What efforts ought you to make ? 
 and. What rule can you follow about it? You 
 say that you feel your judgment is so impaired 
 that you cannot tell what to do, or what is 
 right ; and yet that you are in continual fear of 
 self-indulgence. Your friends, in their well- 
 intended kindness, leave every thing to you to 
 decide, as to what you can do, what you vnll do, 
 and what you would like to do — alas ! you well 
 know how many things you should like to do, that 
 you can never hope to do again here upon earth. 
 As to what you will do, you feel that you wish to 
 have no will, but only to “ do those things which 
 are lawful and right;’’ that just to be told in each 
 thing what to do, would be your greatest comfort 
 and happiness. Then as to what you can do, you 
 feel quite at a loss, and heartily wish that some 
 one could tell you this also. You must make 
 great allowance for those about you ; you must 
 feel that it is in real kindness that they either 
 abstain from urging you, or urge you beyond your 
 power. In the one case they feel fearful of 
 putting you to pain ; in the other, they fear your 
 falling into a state of invalidism, which would be 
 very injurious and distressing to you. Therefore 
 you must not feel annoyed with them, but look at 
 their intended kindness. It is quite impossible, 
 in many cases, for any one to say what you can 
 do. There are certain states in which Medical 
 men can tell to a great degree what ought, and 
 what ought not to be attempted ; and then simple 
 obedience is all that is required : but there are 
 
EFFORTS^ 
 
 57 
 
 many states in which it must be left to the sick 
 person. Perhaps the following suggestions may , 
 be of some assistance in such cases : — 
 
 1. Tell your whole case to your heavenly Father, 
 and ask Him to show you what He would have 
 you to do : to reveal it to you from day to day, 
 and hour to hour, and to teach you to wait upon 
 Him : ask that you may know His will, and have 
 grace to do it. 
 
 2. Do not make plans and rules which you feel 
 to be above your strength, but do what you think 
 you can do ; if you find that you have been mis- 
 taken, then do less. Nevertheless, some plan or 
 rule will be very helpful to you^ and lessen your 
 perplexities. 
 
 3. Do not let any plan be too absolute ; but 
 relax, or make it more rigid, according to your 
 strength and circumstances. 
 
 4. Make it clear to yourself, by constant prayer 
 and self-examination, that you are really doing 
 what you can, and employing your powers as far 
 as they will go, without too much straining. 
 
 5. When you have done so, then do not be 
 teased and worried, and made angry by friends, 
 or even by Medical men, telling you that you are 
 merely nervous, that you could do more if you 
 would, and that you give way, and are self- 
 indulgent. Yet try to find out whether there 
 may not still be some truth in what they say ; do 
 not shrink from examining whether it be so. 
 Bearjt as “unto the Lord;*” in silence submit 
 your will, and say, in this trial also, “ It is the 
 will of Godr 
 
 6. Do not expect to be able to do exactly the 
 same in one day as in another ; and do not make 
 any undue effort to do so. Take the trial of 
 seeming idleness as your portion, when it must be 
 
58 
 
 'EFFORTS. 
 
 SO ; and be thankful when another portion of work 
 is given, and you are able to do it. 
 
 7. Do not expect to do things as well, or as 
 quickly, or as pleasantly to yourself, as in the days 
 of your health. You must learn now, as never 
 before, that “much study is a weariness to the 
 flesh 
 
 8. After you have done what seemed to you at 
 the time the right thing, be content ; do not 
 question with yourself as to whether it was right, 
 or how far it was right ; whether you had not 
 better have done otherwise.* 
 
 You will do well occasionally to make some 
 fresh effort and exertion, partly for the sake of 
 proving whether you are capable of more than you 
 have been doing, and partly to show your friends 
 that you are wishing to put forth your strength 
 to the utmost, to join with the family, and to 
 employ yourself to the utmost. 
 
 This will often end in bitter disappointment and 
 discouragement. You will say, I tried to step into 
 life again, and I could not. I have stepped fur- 
 ther than I could go, and am thrown back again, 
 and seem further off than ever, and as if I could 
 not get even so far the next time I try. Well, 
 this is a sore trial ; but it is better to have tried, 
 and thus to learn what you can do, and especially 
 that you are not lazy and self-indulgent in doing no 
 more than you had previously done. What these 
 efforts are to consist of, must differ in each case : to 
 some it may be seeing one or more friends ; to 
 others, writing a letter; to others, being dressed 
 and laid on a sofa near the bed ; to others, being 
 taken out of the room; to others, sitting up in a 
 chair; to others, going down stairs; to others, 
 taking a drive, a walk, a journey ; each according 
 ^ Eccles. xii. 12. 
 
EFFORTS. 
 
 59 
 
 to their several measures of weakness or ability. 
 Settle it in your heart that the kindest of friends 
 will rarely fully understand your state ; that they 
 may seem to do so to-day, and to-morrow may 
 seem very obtuse about it. There is but One who 
 can fully understand it, and who can truly direct 
 you what to do at all times. 
 
 Doubtless you often feel distressed because you 
 are so deeply conscious of pain which each act 
 of life costs you : or, at any rate, the pain which 
 you suffer in it, and with it. It seems to you 
 sinfully ungrateful to Him who is always helping 
 and upholding you, to feel the pain so much more 
 vividly than His ever present almighty aid. 
 
 Be not discouraged ; you must not repine about 
 it ; you cannot help feeling the pain and suffering ; 
 you may have a grateful, thankful -heart in spite 
 of it, and be very conscious of His presence and 
 help. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 NERVOUSNESS. 
 
 That large class of diseases called nervous are 
 pre-eminently hard to bear, and that class is greatly 
 increased by the small knowledge that Medical 
 men have as yet obtained of the nerves, and their 
 real suffering. Many peculiarly distressing feel- 
 ings, which cannot be called pain, are known by 
 the name of nervous. There are few persons who 
 would not rather hear that certain symptoms are 
 owing to any cause, however mortal the disease, 
 than that they are nervous. Oh ! how the word 
 dies upon the heart ! or rather, how it quickens 
 every part of the frame into suffering. Only 
 nervous ! Why, what can be said more hopeless ? 
 
60 
 
 NERVOUSNESS. 
 
 What does ii mean? Oftentimes it means that 
 the pain is not understood, and that the Physician 
 sees no cause for it ; and as he must give it some 
 name, he calls it nervous. The sting of it lies in 
 those words having a double meaning. Used by 
 some persons, they are meant to express intense 
 suffering. U sed by others, they mean the figments 
 of a diseased imagination, almost self-chosen suf- 
 fering. The words said by one who really feels 
 for you may be repeated to another person, and 
 quickly change their meaning ; and soon you may 
 hear, ‘‘ Why do you lie here ? Why do you not 
 try to do this or that thing? Your Physician says 
 that your disease is only nervous. Why not break 
 through it then, and be like other people?*” 
 
 How often are you tempted to — 
 
 Pray for sharpest throbs of pain, 
 
 To ease you from doubt’s galling chain ! ” 
 
 All temptation seems rife — the tempter ever at 
 hand. All the wretched, miserable sensations that 
 are within you, you fancy are seen outwardly. The 
 strange inconsistencies of nervousness are some of 
 its bitterest trials. You fancy at the same moment 
 that every one sees your trials and your fears ; and 
 that no one sees it, no one knows it, understands it, 
 cares for it ; that no one in the world suffers as 
 you do ; that your sufferings are quite peculiar, and 
 therefore cannot be understood. Do not for one 
 moment try to delude yourself into the vain fancy 
 that it is not a very sore affliction. Do not speak 
 of it lightly, or make it appear to others that you 
 do not feel it. Face it all, look it full in the face ; 
 then say. Who sent me this trial? “The only 
 wise God.*” Why did He send it ? Because He 
 saw that it was quite necessary for me, just fitted 
 to all my needs, the only thing that could so truly 
 “ humble me, and prove me, and show me what is 
 
NERVOUSNESS. 
 
 61 
 
 N 
 
 in my heart Must I bear it always, all my life 
 long ? The present is all that I have to do with ; 
 ‘‘sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof 
 Alas ! that I must bear it, and bear it alone ! No, 
 it is God^ msitation. “ He sees thee, and under- 
 stands thee, as He made thee. He knows what is 
 in thee, all thy own peculiar feelings and thoughts, 
 thy dispositions and likings, thy strength and thy 
 weakness. He views thee in thy day of rejoicing 
 and thy day of sorrow. He sympathizes in thy 
 hopes and temptations. He interests Himself in 
 all thine anxieties and remembrances, all the risings 
 and fallings of thy spirit. He has numbered the 
 very hairs of thy head and the cubits of thy sta- 
 ture. He compasses thee round and bears thee 
 in His arms : He takes thee up and sets thee down. 
 He notes thy very countenance, whether smiling 
 or in tears, whether healthful or sickly. He looks 
 tenderly upon thy hands and thy feet : He hears 
 thy voice, the beating of thy heart, and thy very 
 breathing. Thou dost not love thyself better than 
 He loves thee. Thou canst not shrink from pain 
 more than He dislikes thy bearing it; and if He 
 puts it on thee, it is as thou wilt put it on thyself, 
 if thou art wise, for greater good afterwards.*’’’ 
 
 Never meet this particular form of suffering by 
 reasoning, or in any other way than by saying, “ It 
 is the will of God r 
 
 In nervous suffering the frequent consciousness 
 of seeming irritable — of knowing that others think 
 you so, makes the evil a hundredfold greater. If 
 you could but feel that no one was observing you, 
 the trial would be less. Sometimes, perhaps, some 
 one notices it to you ; a word to you is like a blow, 
 you writhe and cry out for pain. People see only 
 what is outward — they hear the irritable toile or 
 ^ Deut. viii. 2. ^ Matt. vi. 34. 
 
62 
 
 ^NERVOUSNESS. 
 
 , word — they see the countenance. They do not see 
 the unutterable, awful struggle which is ever going 
 on, and which, by the grace of God, prevents much 
 evil from coming out. How difficult it is to repress 
 the longing — “ 0 that Thou wouldest hide me in 
 the grave, till the secret of Thy wrath is past ® ” 
 It is the consciousness of sinning, even when one 
 is fighting with the sin, and resisting almost to 
 the death. It is this which is such agonizing 
 suffering — the seeming to sin against God, and to 
 fight against Him. 
 
 Yet do not struggle, for it increases nervous 
 suffering fearfully. Just lie still, and say, ‘‘ Lord, 
 Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest that I 
 love Thee^;” or say, “Lord, have mercy on me; 
 this is a sore trial, help Thou me."’ For He knows 
 the heart. “ He seeth not as man seeth ® and 
 “He is love®;” and “very pitiful, and of tender 
 mercy k” Surely then He is grieved for and with 
 you ; is “ touched with a feeling of your infirmi- 
 ties for “He in all points tempted like as 
 we are, yet without sin He bore nermus suffer- 
 ings — how intensely He must have entered into 
 them; every nerve of His was pierced, and wounded, 
 and stretched. Say then, “ 0 Saviour of the world, 
 who by Thy Gross and precious Blood hast re- 
 deemed us ; save us, and help us, we humbly be- 
 seech Thee, 0 LordM” “By Thine agony and 
 bloody sweat ; by Thy Cross and Passion ; by Thy 
 precious Death and Burial ; by Thy glorious Re- 
 surrection and Ascension ; and by the coming of 
 the Holy Ghost, Good Lord, deliver usk” “ Fear 
 
 6 Job xiv. 13. ^ John xxi. 17» 
 
 * 1 Sam. xvi. 7. ® 1 John iv. 8. 
 
 ^ James v. 12. ^ Heb. iv. 15. 
 
 ® Service for the Visitation of the Sick. 
 
 * The Litany. 
 
TAKING OPIATES. 
 
 63 
 
 not ; He will strengthen you and uphold you by 
 the right hand of His righteousness 
 
 IX. 
 
 TAKING OPIATES. 
 
 It is often a point of great difficulty and distress 
 to^ sick people, whether they are right to take 
 opiates. Their doubts generally arise from two 
 causes : — 
 
 1. The fear of acquiring so bad a habit, which 
 can scarcely fail to increase upon them as their 
 needs increase ; and, 
 
 2. Questionings whether it can be right in them 
 to subdue the sense of pain, when God Himself 
 has sent the pain ; when Christ Himself endured 
 such extreme suffering, and refused to drink, even 
 in the midst of His agonizing thirst. 
 
 These reasons are not only very plausible, but 
 contain much truth. There can be no question, 
 that to get into such a liahit would be very injuri- 
 ous, and very sinful ; but this supposes that there 
 is no necessity for it ; and if there be none, it is 
 simply a wicked indulgence. If a Medical man 
 considers that an opiate is necessary, then the 
 patient has no more right to refuse to take that, 
 than he has to take any other medicine. The 
 taking of any medicine needlessly and habitually 
 would be a very bad habit to acquire. 
 
 The nature and measure of all medicine taken 
 should be regulated wholly by a Medical man ; and 
 we should take all these things passively from his 
 hand, looking to him as the representative and the 
 servant of God, sent by Him to relieve us. If we 
 ^ Isa. xli. 10. 
 
64 
 
 FANCIES ABOUT FOOD. 
 
 find the opiates cloud our minds, we should men- 
 tion it to the Physician ; and if he says that there 
 is no help for it, that it surely will be its effect in 
 our case, and yet that the remedy is necessary, 
 then we are bound to submit our will and pleasure, 
 and to take the medicine, and to bear the trial as 
 part of the necessary discipline. The patient should 
 of course exactly learn the quantity that he is to 
 take, and strictly to keep to it, neither diminishing 
 it because of his own scruples, or increasing it, if 
 it produces pleasant effects, taking it always simply 
 as a matter of obedience. It is certainly true that 
 God sends pain to us ; but the same argument 
 which would prevent us from taking opiates would 
 apply to all remedies, and we should refuse to try 
 any, lest they should alleviate our suffering. The 
 argument, that our Lord refused all alleviations 
 does not hold good, for He drank the whole cup 
 of suffering, that He might know it all, and under- 
 stand it all, and be able to sympathize with us. 
 He refused every alleviation, that He might not 
 escape from tasting one drop which any of His 
 servants might hereafter be called to drink. 
 
 X. 
 
 FANCIES ABOUT FOOD. 
 
 At times you may be very much tried by fancies 
 about food. Some particular thing you may de- 
 sire, and if it cannot be obtained, nothing else will 
 content you. Or you may wish it dressed in some 
 particular way, your directions are mistaken, you 
 either refuse to eat the food, or do so. with disrelish 
 or disgust, or with a very discontented mind, com- 
 plaining the while of your cook’s stupidity, being 
 
FANCIES ABOUT FOOD. 
 
 65 
 
 angry with her, and perhaps speaking of It to other 
 people ; or you may wish for It at a certain hour, 
 you may be kept waiting, and then lose your de- 
 sire for, or will to eat It. Or when food, however 
 dainty. Is brought, you may have set your mind on 
 something else ; and either be thoroughly discon- 
 tented, or loathe the food altogether. Or you 
 may fancy first one thing and then another, until 
 your friends find you so hard to please, that they 
 are at a loss how to meet your wishes. Or you 
 may fancy something which you know is out of 
 season, or only to be had at a very high price ; or 
 you may hear of a thing, and a sudden fancy takes 
 you that you must have it, and you are restless 
 until it is procured. 
 
 All these are most trying and humiliating things ; 
 they do indeed speak of the corruptible body V’ 
 ‘‘ the vile body ^ and they are trials which the 
 best disciplined minds and the most self-denying 
 people are subject to ; but certainly not equally 
 with those who have been accustomed to indulge 
 their appetites, and never made any attempt at 
 resisting their inclinations. 
 
 To many it is a matter of real consequence 
 what they eat, because it increases their illness to 
 take certain things ; but they may soon so far 
 ascertain what suits them, as to let it pass into a 
 habit of their lives, which they scarqely ever need 
 to consider. Of course, each one will feel it a duty 
 to take the food, either that is ordered by a Medi- 
 cal man for them, or else which they find agree 
 with them best. 
 
 To some perhaps the following suggestions may 
 be helpful : — 
 
 1. Kesolve as little as possible to think ‘‘what 
 shall we eat, or what shall we drink ® but to tak^ 
 
 * Wiscl. ix. 15. ^ Phil. iii. 21. ® Matt. vi. 25. 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 FANCIES ABOUT FOOD. 
 
 what is brought thankfully, whether you quite 
 fancy it or no. This of course implies that you 
 are in a household where things are thought of for 
 you. The difficulty is increased greatly, when any 
 one has to provide for themselves ; in the latter 
 case, however, it is best to have as simple a plan 
 as possible, and rarely to depart from it, so that 
 the order and the food may come naturally. 
 
 2. Think as little as you can of these fancies 
 which so distress you ; when they come do not 
 reason or parley with them ; try to turn your 
 thoughts to something else ; at any rate, do not 
 dwell on them, and speak of them rarely, if at all. 
 
 3. Look upon them as a trial, as meant to try 
 you, and not as any proof of your sinfulness. 
 
 4. Some sick people have found it a wonderful 
 help in checking such thoughts, and all fancies 
 about food, to abstain from certain food at stated 
 times. Fasting, strictly so called, would be wrong 
 in you at a time when your Physician has ordered 
 you to take all the nourishment that you can bear ; 
 and when he has prescribed the quantity and qua- 
 lity of your food. But there may nevertheless be 
 many little indulgences forgone, or less taken of 
 the thing you prefer ; which, if your health needs 
 it, may easily be made up, by taking some less 
 agreeable food : you can easily arrange this, espe- 
 cially if you have the ordering of your own meals. 
 
 Whatever you do, do it silently as “ unto the 
 Lord, and not unto men ^ secretly, so that only 
 He that ‘‘ seeth in secret” may notice it; let it 
 be a sacrifice ; do not be content unless it is ; and 
 then offer it up, cheerfully and willingly, to Him, 
 who loveth ‘Hhe cheerful giver and who, as He 
 accepted the widow’s mite gladly, because she gave 
 all her substance, so He will accept the very little 
 
 3 Eph. vi. 7. 1 2 Cor. ix. 7- 
 
FANCIES ABOUT FOOD. 
 
 67 
 
 ^offering that you are able to make. Whatever you 
 do, let it be done seriously, earnestly, deliberately, 
 perseveringly, (not a sudden and impulsive thing,) 
 and prayerfully. 
 
 Consider well what you will do, and then do it 
 at regular and stated times ; for this will do you 
 much more good than greater things done irre- 
 gularly and from impulse ; the very regularity, the 
 feeling of being under a law^ is excellent discipline 
 for the mind. Do not begin on too great a scale ; 
 and then, fancying that you find no benefit from it, 
 give it up. You probably may not experience any 
 benefit at first, perhaps not for a long time ; but 
 persevere, you will find a great blessing another 
 day ; and ‘‘ though it tarry, wait for it Do not 
 make any great efforts at first, begin with a very 
 little thing, so small that you may fancy until you 
 try that you shall not feel it ; you will soon find 
 that you do. After a time you may try some little 
 thing in addition, and so on. 
 
 5. Occasionally resolve to take some particular 
 food continuously for several days or longer, with- 
 out any variation. 
 
 6. When you have tried all means, and yet the 
 fancies tease you, say, I must not be fretted by 
 this, it is indeed most humbling discipline, but It 
 is the will of God, 
 
 Y ou will do well, at all times, to remember, that 
 the being taken from the family, and having your 
 meals alone, does offer constant temptation. The 
 blessings of social meals are many and great, 
 greater than we have any idea of until we are de- 
 prived of them. Besides bringing the family toge- 
 ther, giving them stated times of meeting, of keep- 
 ing up their intercourse with each other, of hear- 
 ing and seeing much of family life and interests, 
 
 2 Hab. ii. 3 
 F 2 
 
68 
 
 NIGHTS. 
 
 that they would otherwise wholly lose, the eating 
 together instead of apart, takes off the selfishness 
 of the meal ; makes it not for one’s self alone, but 
 for all; something shared and mutual; and con- 
 versation helps to make one forget the food, and 
 not to find the chief pleasure in it. Persons who 
 have all meals alone, are tempted to selfishness, to 
 think of the food set before them, of their own 
 capabilities of taking it, and many other tempta- 
 tions too small to mention, but which are neverthe- 
 less trying. One however must not be omitted — 
 the sadness and loneliness and feeling of isola- 
 tion, which solitary meals bring ; the thing almost 
 seems a contradiction, and the sick person seldom 
 feels more alone than at meal-times. But He who 
 gives you the blessing of the food is present with 
 you ; receive this mercy from His hands, and ask 
 Him to bless it. Thus you will feel less that you 
 are alone and isolated. Thus realizing His pre- 
 sence, you will be enabled, whether you eat or 
 drink, or whatsoever you do, to do all to the glory 
 of God V’ 
 
 XI. 
 
 NIGHTS, 
 
 In days of health gone by, you looked to the night 
 to renew your strength, to overcome your weari- 
 ness, and to enable you to forget sorrow for a sea- 
 son. You ^‘laid down and slept and then woke 
 refreshed ; or, if you did not, you felt that some- 
 thing was amiss ; that you could not be well. But 
 now the case is reversed ; often the night is your 
 time of greatest suffering, of peculiar languor, of 
 restlessness and sleeplessness. All your anxieties 
 ^ 1 Cor. X. 31, * Ps. iii. 6. 
 
l^IGHTS. 
 
 69 
 
 Start up then, clothed in blacker garments than 
 they wore by day ; all your fears for yourself and 
 others ; your most unloving, your saddest, most 
 murmuring and discontented thoughts. Some- 
 times you say, “Would God it were morning!'’ 
 and are perhaps just as ready to say in the morn- 
 ing, “ Would God it were evening M" Any thing 
 but what your wearied and worn-out body and 
 spirit seem to prefer. Some opiate is given ; at 
 length you fall into a doze ; but you are perhaps 
 (partly at least) conscious of what is going on 
 around you, and of the sounds within hearing. 
 You soon wake unrested, and more wearied in 
 body, and tempted in mind than before. After 
 awhile you fall asleep, but your sleep is full of 
 dreams, often most distressing and startling. You 
 dread the night coming, and say, “Wearisome 
 nights are appointed me®." Did you ever think 
 that the words of your complaining carry with 
 them the truest comfort, are '‘^appointed me?" 
 Then they do not come by any chance or accident, 
 God ordered them for you ; He knows how many 
 such you need, and He will not give you one more 
 than is necessary. Surely in that last night of 
 agony He tasted the extreme of your suffering. 
 He does not appoint such wrestling for you ; and 
 when He sends you the sharpest suffering, so that 
 your “whole head is sick, and your whole heart 
 faint — so that you “groan, being burdened®;" 
 even then He is by, who, in wonderful pity and 
 condescension, has promised to “ make all your 
 bed in your sickness ®." You well know what that 
 expression conveys to your mind. You know all 
 the tossings and restlessness which make your bed 
 so uneasy and so uncomfortable a place. You 
 
 ^ Deut, xxviii. 67* ® Job vii. 3. ^ Isa. i. 5. 
 
 ® 2 Cor. V. 4. ^ Ps, xli. 3. 
 
70 
 
 XIGHTS. 
 
 know what it is, especially in the night, to be 
 ‘‘afraid of that which is high,’’ and that “fears 
 shall be in the way h” You know the strange 
 fancies and sights that your poor weak brain will 
 conjure up ; how hard it is to convince yourself 
 that they are not fearful realities. ^ You know how 
 sometimes a panic at being alone will seize you ; 
 and yet you rightly feel that you ought not to dis- 
 turb your attendant, who may be asleep in an 
 adjoining room. You know too what it is to lie 
 and hear or know that she is asleep, and to be 
 tempted to envy her, until at last you feel as if you 
 could not bear that she should have such comfort, 
 and you be deprived of it ; and you are tempted to 
 wake her. Beware how you yield to such a tempta- 
 tion ; resolve never on any excuse to call her, never 
 unless it is truly necessary. If you once yielded 
 to such a temptation, it would assault you more 
 strongly the next time, until either your selfishness 
 gained the mastery, or your conflict would be very 
 sharp. There is no way of meeting this trial- but 
 by looking at these “ wearisome nights ” as “ ap- 
 pointed ” you, and saying. It is the will of God. 
 Think, when you are able, of His unspeakable 
 nearness to you: “Yea, the darkness hideth not 
 from Thee ; but the night shineth as the day : the 
 darkness and the light are both alike to Thee 
 Think of His agony, that night of agony ; your 
 weariness and weakness cannot be greater than 
 His was. You cannot pray perhaps continuously; 
 bub however short the petition may be, however 
 broken the sentence, — even a mere groan, — it will 
 reach His ears. At any rate you may seek to feel 
 that “ His left hand is under your head, that His 
 right hand doth embrace ^ ” you. Lay yourself 
 then quietly down in His arms, and believe that 
 
 ^ Eccles. xii. 5. * Ps. cxxxix. 12. ^ Cant. ii. 6. 
 
DAYS. 
 
 71 
 
 “the eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath 
 are the everlasting arms * then “ thou shalt not 
 be afraid for the terror by night V’ “the Lord 
 is thy rereward 
 
 It is often a great help at night to repeat poems, 
 or hymns, or as much of them as can be remem- 
 bered ; or the Psalms, and other words of Holy 
 Scripture, or the Services of the Church. Of 
 course it will be a broken recollection, a verse or a 
 line of one perhaps, and then something else ; but 
 this matters not, it is a great help in keeping out 
 unholy and distressing thoughts or fears, by occu- 
 pying the mind and quieting it, and so giving it 
 the best hope of sleep. At first we may seem to 
 know nothing, but by degrees more and more will 
 come to mind, that we have read or learnt long 
 ago and thought we had forgotten, but it was only 
 lying dormant, ready to be used in time of need. 
 Those who have the ability to read, and whose 
 nights are very feverish, or who wake often, startled 
 by troubled dreams, will find nothing so soothing 
 to their minds, or so likely to calm their thoughts 
 and prepare them for sleep, as to read one or more 
 of the Psalms for the day or part of one of the 
 Lessons. It will take off the painful impression of 
 the dream, and they will find it a means by which 
 
 XII. 
 
 DAYS 
 
 After a wearisome night you begin the next day 
 either with a feverish strength which is soon spent, 
 
 ^ Deut. xxxiii. 27. 
 ® Isa. Iviii. 8. 
 
 ^ Ps. xci. 5. 
 
 ^ Ps. xxix. 10. 
 
72 
 
 DAYS. 
 
 and leaves you more languid and weary than before, 
 or else with a most oppressive sense of exhaustion, 
 languor, and unfitness to begin a new day. 
 
 You think, I have such and such things to do ; 
 such an one to see ; and how can I do any thing 
 It is very difficult to bear this oppressive sense of 
 impossibility ; but do not fix too accurately what 
 you can do, and what you cannot do. Let circum- 
 stances decide ; things will not come exactly as 
 you expect them. When you look forward into 
 the day, every thing seems as if it would clash ; 
 every one will come together, you think ; and what 
 shall you do ? Whom shall you refuse, and whom 
 shall you see? Will it seem like making your- 
 self of consequence to refuse ? Had you not better 
 see every one, say nothing about being weak, and 
 sink under it, if you must? You say, What line 
 can I draw? what can I do? If Medical men 
 would only say, you must not do so and so, then 
 you would find no difficulty at all in obedience, but 
 would thankfully keep strictly to their injunctions. 
 When they do give such directions it is a great 
 relief to you, by making it a simple matter of obe- 
 dience, and taking from you the dread lest you 
 should in any way be over-indulging or sparing 
 yourself, when you ought to be “ denying yourself, 
 and taking up the cross 
 
 The keenest part of your trial is this uncertainty 
 and perplexity and doubt as to what is your duty. 
 It is not that you want to escape from suffering, 
 or from activity, but that besides not knowing 
 what is the actual measure of your strength, you 
 do not know in what measure it is good to task it ; 
 whether to spend it all at once, or to try and pre- 
 serve it. 
 
 To those who have a strong feeling of the duty 
 ® Matt. xvi. 24. 
 
DAYS. 
 
 73 
 
 of ‘‘redeeming the time, because the days are 
 few V’ it is a very great trial not to know how to 
 regulate time and employments, so as to be really 
 useful to themselves and others. They earnestly 
 desire to give every moment to God, and that all 
 their employments should glorify Him ; and not 
 merely be for present amusement and occupation, 
 but for lasting good to the Church, as well as to 
 
 this sick member.’’ How to do this is often very 
 perplexing ; perhaps the following rules may be of 
 some assistance : — 
 
 1 . To ask God in all things to direct and rule 
 our hearts : to order them in all things : to direct 
 the mind to studies which shall expand it, and so 
 to fit it for future usefulness, if such be His holy 
 will. 
 
 2. To choose those subjects for which there is a 
 natural aptitude. 
 
 3. To vary employments, and never to continue 
 even an amusement too long, obeying the well- 
 known indications of approaching fatigue. 
 
 4. To let some employment be merely mecha- 
 nical. 
 
 5. To spend some time in mere recreation, with- 
 out counting it waste of time. 
 
 6. If two kinds of reading are to follow each 
 other, to spend at least a few minutes between 
 each, in merely lying still, without even thinking. 
 
 7. To allow yourself to spend no time in vexa- 
 tion that you can do so very little ; but thank God 
 for each thing that He allows you to do. 
 
 8. Regulate your time so as to choose that part 
 of the day when you are the strongest, for the 
 subjects which require the most attention, and so 
 on, in order. 
 
 9. Do not force these employments on yourself, 
 
 ^ Col, iv. 5. 
 
74 
 
 DAYS. 
 
 as rules that must not be broken, but let your 
 lessened or increased illness, and other circum- 
 stances, guide you. 
 
 10. Do not tease yourself with opinions that 
 others may give of the duty of your doing more, 
 or of exerting yourself more than you do ; neither 
 resist them wholly. Lay them before God, and 
 ask Him who knows your heart, and what you 
 really can do in every particular, to show you what 
 you ought to do, and to give you the will to do it. 
 
 11. Do not fritter your mind with mere light 
 reading; for every thing which expands the mind, 
 enables it to sympathize more with others, and to 
 hold more communion with God. Light reading 
 is apt to occupy the minds of the weak more than 
 of the strong ; to fill their thoughts when they 
 would pray, and to haunt their dreams and night 
 visions. 
 
 12. As much as possible set some object before 
 you, and read with it in view; either turn your 
 reading to some special purpose, or fix on some 
 subject to which you will especially apply your 
 thoughts and studies. This will help to remove 
 the objectless feeling which sick persons suffer so 
 much from. Generally speaking, works of fiction, 
 and especially novels, are ill-adapted for the read- 
 ing of sick persons. They possess the mind, pre- 
 vent it from thinking of other subjects, haunt it as 
 well by day as by night, so as at times materially 
 to increase illness ; they are particularly ill-adapted 
 to persons who are suffering from nervousness and 
 great weakness, and who have not, therefore, the 
 full command and control of their minds. To them 
 the story they have read may assume an actual 
 form of truth and life ; if it be very tragical, they 
 may suffer with the sufferers as they read, until the 
 suffering becomes their own, and cannot be laid 
 
DAYS. 
 
 75 
 
 aside with the book, but produces restlessness, 
 feverishness, anxiety, and terror, both in waking 
 and sleeping hours. Besides, there is another very 
 injurious effect, which is, that if the story is of 
 great interest, there is an intense desire to finish 
 it, and great impatience and irritability at any in- 
 terruption. The strain upon the mind and nerves 
 is continued too long, and causes, perhaps, increase 
 of suffering, and loss of self-control for many days 
 to come. Surely sick people should avoid every 
 thing which lessens self-control, as they have weak- 
 ness and pain continually to sap it. They need 
 every thing which will brace the mind and the 
 nerves. Add to this, that if they can read but a 
 little, it is better to read such things as will ‘‘ not 
 perish with the using but tend to ‘‘help them 
 forward in the right way which leadeth unto ever- 
 lasting life k” 
 
 Voyages and travels contain enough of interest, 
 and take the reader into new scenes and circum- 
 stances, and thus draw his thoughts from himself 
 and his usual train of ideas. 
 
 Nevertheless, there are states of illness in which 
 the occasional reading of works of fiction may be 
 desirable. In very acute pain, toothache or any 
 similar pains, when the mere object is to forget 
 both seif and pain, a very interesting story will 
 sometimes accomplish the object for a time. 
 
 These rules apply chiefly to those who have 
 leisure which they desire to use aright whenever 
 they have strength to do so. But many sick 
 people are so circumstanced that they have no 
 leisure. Their daily duties, small as they may 
 seem, take all their strength ; and when they are 
 not engaged in their necessary little employments, 
 they can do nothing but rest. For them, the 
 Col. ii. 22. 1 Service for the Visitation of the Sick. 
 
76 
 
 DAYS. 
 
 plain duty is to do the work set before them with 
 a willing heart ; and though it seem at times to 
 press the very life out of them, and to increase all 
 their bodily sufferings, yet let them try to be very 
 thankful that they have work given them to do by 
 God Himself ; let them offer all their time, and 
 strength, and powers to Him, asking Him each 
 morning to show them, hour by hour, what He 
 would have them to do ; and asking Him to help 
 them ever to remember that with each portion of 
 work, and of suffering, will come also the needful 
 portion of strength, because, “ He is not a hard 
 master, reaping where He has not sown, gathering 
 where He has not strawed^’" 
 
 In the morning let them consider quietly what 
 seems to lie before them during the day, and 
 commit each thing separately to God, asking Him 
 to teach and guide, and quiet and strengthen them. 
 It may be done in but few words — in broken 
 words and sentences, if there is no more power. 
 Let them ask Him to teach them His will ; to 
 guide and direct all circumstances ; to give wisdom 
 in intercourse with each member of the family, 
 servants, children, or whatever there may be. 
 Ask, that you may receive whatever tidings 
 letters may bring you, or whatever annoyances 
 they may cause you, calmly, and as the will of 
 your heavenly Father. Ask, that whatever letters 
 you write, He may guide and direct you. Ask, 
 that whatever unexpected circumstances may arise. 
 He will help you to remember that they are from 
 Him. Ask for wisdom and sincerity in all your 
 intercourse with your fellow-creatures — those of 
 your own household ; any persons that you expect 
 to see ; or any one who may come unexpectedly. 
 Ask, that if you are particularly weak or weary 
 2 Matt. XXV. 24. 
 
DAYS. 
 
 77 
 
 
 when they come, you may not betray it, or even 
 utter exclamations of impatience to the servant 
 who announces their coming. Ask, that you may 
 go patiently and meekly and quietly through all 
 t\\Q fatigues as well as the events of the day, and 
 in them all, offer up your will to God. That 
 Collect, which in the Prayer Book begins, 
 “ Almighty God, unto whom all hearts be open,*” 
 used to be, ‘‘ unto whom every will speaks.’’ Let 
 your will speak to Him ; He will hear it, and 
 accept it, and judge you, not according to what 
 you cannot, but what you can do. Having done 
 so, remember all the day, that He is very near to 
 you, and at every fresh need let your will speak 
 to Him. 
 
 Do not yield to the temptation of looking at 
 every thing at once^ as if every thing would happen 
 at once, and all the events of the day be crowded 
 into an hour. Do not thus forecast, but take each 
 thing as it comes to you, and look upon it as the 
 present expression of the will of God concerning 
 you ; then regard the next in the same way, and 
 thus receive your day piece by piece from Him 
 who will remember always when He gives you 
 work to do, that you need strength to do it. 
 
 You will find it a very great blessing to you, as 
 much as possible, to do every thing at stated 
 hours ; to do each thing at the same hour every 
 day : or, if it is a thing of but weekly occurrence, 
 to do it on the same day of the week, and at the 
 same hour : it makes things come naturally and 
 easily, and with far less effort ; you know what 
 you have to do, and can arrange accordingly; 
 moreover, habit makes all things so much easier 
 and less burdensome ; and prevents the con- 
 sidering what you have to do, and what you ought 
 to do next. 
 
78 
 
 DIS APPOINTMENTS 
 
 Often, when you have almost fainted in spirit, 
 the thought comes, If thou hast run with the 
 footmen, and they have wearied thee, what shalt 
 thou do with the horsemen Put it from you, 
 it is a faithless thought ; if you need more strength 
 you will have it, be sure of that ; or the call to 
 greater exertion may never come to you. Your 
 business is with the present; leave the future in 
 His hands- who will be sure to do the best, the 
 very best for you. 
 
 XIIT. 
 
 DISAPPOINTMENTS AND DISCOURAGEMENTS. 
 
 Do not expect to be wholly freed from sickly 
 thoughts whilst the sickly body is pressing you 
 down, and causing you ‘‘ to groan, being bur- 
 dened^’’ 
 
 Friends may tell you that your state is surely 
 very wrong, for that it should be, that as ‘Hhe 
 outward man decays, the inward is renewed day 
 by day\"’ They repeat true words, but they are 
 mistaken in their application of them ; for except 
 a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, 
 it abideth alone : but if it die it brino-eth forth 
 
 o 
 
 much fruit^'” “ That which thou sowest is not 
 quickened except it die ; and that which thou 
 sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, 
 but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or some 
 other grain : but God giveth it a body as it hath 
 pleased Him^'” It is sown in weakness ; it is 
 raised in power^‘'’ “ My substance was not hid 
 from Thee when I was made in secret, and 
 
 ^ Jer. xii. 5. ^2 Cor, v. 4. ^2 Cor. iv. 10. 
 
 ® John xii. 24. ^ 1 Cor. xv. SG — 38. ® 1 Cor. xv. 43. 
 
AND DISCOURAGEMENTS. 
 
 79 
 
 curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. 
 Thine eyes did see my substance yet being un- 
 perfect ; and in Thy Book all my members were 
 written, which in continuance were fashioned when 
 as yet there was none of them 
 
 So it is with the spiritual body — how it is 
 moulded and fashioned is hidden from our sight. 
 We cannot see how this severe frost, which seems 
 for the present only to harden the ground, and 
 even prevent it from receiving the dews of heaven, 
 can be of any benefit ; but wait a little, and the 
 spring time will come, and when “ the flowers 
 appear on the earth” again, and “ the time of the 
 singing of birds is come then we shall see how 
 needful the frost has been, and how it preserved 
 the precious seed. Doubtless “ the inward man is 
 renewed,” but ‘‘the secret of the Lord is with 
 them that fear Him He knows it, and knows 
 how it is. Do not be out of heart when your 
 friends offer you these deep and harrowing dis- 
 couragements ; say only, “ Have pity upon me, 
 have pity upon me, 0 ye my friends ; for the hand 
 of God bath touched me “ I shall yet praise 
 Him, who is the health of my countenance, and 
 my God “ Though He slay me, yet will I 
 trust in Him®.” Do not afterwards revolve the 
 question until it ends with your saying, “ There 
 is no hope®.” Just simply tell it all to “Our 
 Father,” or rather say that you cannot tell Him, 
 but that He knows your trouble. Ask Him, if it 
 please Him, to help you to “ let your light shine 
 before men, that they, seeing your good works, 
 may glorify your Father which is in Heaven’';” 
 
 ® Ps. cxxxix. 15, 16. ^ Cant. ii. 12. ^ pg^ ^xv. 14. 
 
 ® Job xix. 21. * Ps. xlii. 11. ^ Job xiii. 15. 
 
 ® Jer. ii. 25, Matt. v. 16. 
 
80 
 
 POVERTY. 
 
 but if it must be otherwise, then to help you to 
 say, “ Thy will be done 
 
 Friends will say also that you have so much 
 leisure time, that they envy you your leisure ; 
 that they sometimes long to be ill that they may 
 have more uninterrupted time to serve God*^ and 
 that they think that illness is such a time for 
 communion with God, and for growing in grace. 
 Do not be discouraged by this. Do not fancy 
 that because you find it otherwise, therefore you 
 are wholly in a wrong state ; and that all the past 
 has been but delusion. 
 
 It is ‘‘ afterward that it yieldeth the peaceable 
 fruits of righteousness to them who are exercised 
 thereby Leave it all to His righteous judg- 
 ment — leave yourself in His hands. He knows 
 your circumstances, your pain, and every thing 
 that belongs to you ; and He will judge you 
 according to those circumstances and not accord- 
 ing to your estimate of yourself, or of them. 
 ‘‘ Fret not thyself’’ in this matter ; but as you 
 ‘‘ suffer according to the will of God,” so “ commit 
 yourself into the hands of Him your faithful 
 Creator k” 
 
 XIV. 
 
 POVERTY. 
 
 One thing more must be mentioned as a fruitful 
 source of trial, and it is a mercy if it be not of 
 discontent also. At all times poverty is truly 
 hard to bear ; but when it is united with sickness, 
 it is indeed so sore a trial, that only He who bore 
 
 ® Matt. xxvi. 42. ^ Heb. xii. 11. ^1 Pet. iv. 19. 
 
POVERTY. 
 
 81 
 
 it all, who “humbled Himself V’ ‘ took on Him 
 the form of a servant “ had not where to lay 
 His head ^ who passed through the extreme of 
 hunger and thirst for our sakes, can fully under- 
 stand it, or know its exceeding bitterness — its 
 exceeding fulness of temptation — its sorrows, 
 anxieties, and sufferings. He knows it all ; He 
 not only tasted it, but drank the whole cup to the 
 very dregs. He knows how very difficult it is for 
 you to procure actual necessaries ; how many 
 things which seem to others quite necessary you 
 must forego ; how often you must take food which 
 you can scarcely swallow, because you can get 
 nothing else ; how often you can, in consequence, 
 take nothing at all, but “ suffer hunger.’’ He 
 knows the pain of hunger full well ; He bore it 
 for you that He might understand it all, and be 
 able to bear you up under the trial. If your 
 “strength is hunger-bitten®,” He knows it, and 
 pities you. But this may not be your chief trial ; 
 it may not have come to this, and yet you may 
 be living in constant anxiety and distress, feeling 
 deeply what very heavy burdens and expenses 
 sickness entails, and that you have no means 
 of meeting these extra expenses. Perhaps you 
 are wholly laid aside from that calling by which 
 you obtained your daily bread. If you have any 
 relations depending on you, you will feel this far 
 more deeply ; or, if for the time, you are obliged 
 to be dependent on them, and know with what 
 difficulty they can meet the necessity, you deny 
 yourself in every possible way : nevertheless the 
 costs exceed your means. You are very sick at 
 heart; the constant anxiety preys on your health, 
 and nerves, and spirits; and leaves you less and 
 
 2 Phil. ii. 8. 3 Phil, ii, 7, 
 
 * Matt. viii. 20. ^ Job xviii. 12. 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 POVERTY. 
 
 less probability of returning to your work. In 
 vain you think that if you could only see such a 
 Physician you should recover. You feel that you 
 have no means. Perhaps this difficulty is re- 
 moved ; his kindness makes it easy to you, but 
 you have gained little ; he orders remedies, those 
 remedies seem to you either out of your reach, or 
 involving great sacrifices ; he tells you that you 
 chiefly need rest and freedom from anxiety. Alas ! 
 he might as well have ordered you to China. You 
 think that if you could only go to the sea-side you 
 should recover; it is out of your power. You 
 need a nurse, but cannot have one. You are told 
 to take exercise ; you cannot walk, and yet you 
 cannot afford to have any conveyance. You are 
 to take a great deal of nourishment, which to you 
 is all but impossible, and you feel that you ought 
 to deny yourself every little comfort. Thus you 
 become more and more out of heart and hopeless. 
 
 All this, and the innumerable trials which belong 
 to this state, which are best known to those suf- 
 ferers into whose soul the iron enters, are indeed 
 most bitter griefs. Painful as it may be to you, 
 perhaps it will be your duty to make those friends 
 acquainted with your trial who can assist you. 
 Do not let any pride keep you from it. If our 
 Lord has called you to walk with Him in poverty, 
 remember that He has sanctified the state ; it is 
 'henceforward a ‘‘ holy state.” Do not let the fear 
 of troubling them hinder you from speaking to 
 them, since He has said, that He will look on all 
 acts of mercy as done to Himself : “ Inasmuch as 
 ye have done it unto one of the least of these my 
 brethren, ye have done it unto me®.” Do not 
 defraud your friends of the blessing which is pro- 
 
 ® Matt. XXV. 40. 
 
POVERTY. 
 
 83 
 
 mised to those who give even a cup of cold 
 water to a disciple in the name of a disciple ^ 
 You will seek also to take it humbly and thank 
 fully if you are refused ; receiving this trial also 
 as from the hands of God. After all, your true 
 and sure comfort will be, that God has called you 
 into this state ; that He who has passed through 
 it all, our sympathizing High Priest, knows every 
 step of the way; all its thorns, and snares, and 
 pitfalls; all its crosses, and extreme bitterness. 
 He would not have called you into this suffering, 
 if He had not seen it to be quite necessary for 
 you. Do not reason about it. Do not say sick- 
 ness would be so easy to bear without poverty. 
 Say only, ‘‘ It is the Lord, let Him do what 
 seemeth good in His sight I came into these 
 circumstances by no choice of my own, it was His 
 will ; and it is His will that keeps me in them. 
 Be sure that He who fed Elijah by ravens, would 
 not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are 
 able®;’’ for He ‘‘the Almighty God is the Lord 
 of life, and of death, and of all things to them per- 
 taining k'"* He can raise up friends for you, and 
 He will do so, when and as He sees best for you ; 
 for the “ silver and the gold are the Lord's 
 Only lay before Him all your wants and circum- 
 stances, every little trial, even those which are too 
 small to tell to your friends, and then answer 
 every sad thought, every suggestion of discourage- 
 ment, or anxiety, or fear for the future, with, 
 “ I have nothing to do with the future, that is not 
 in my hands ; I have only to do with the present 
 moment : God has placed me in these very cir- 
 cumstances ; I must not scan them ; I know that 
 
 7 Matt. X. 42. 8 1 Sam. iii. 18. ^ 1 Cor. x. 13. 
 
 * Service for the Visitation of the Sick. ^ Hag. ii. 18. 
 
84 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF PRAYFR. 
 
 they are the best, the very best for me, because 
 the God of Love has placed me in them. It is the 
 will of God.'''' 
 
 XV. 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 Prayer is often a subject of great trial to sick 
 people. They think it should be one of blessing 
 only ; but the body and mind are so closely con- 
 nected, that the weakened and suffering body 
 prevents the free exercise of the mind ; “ The 
 spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak 
 
 You try to fix your thoughts in prayer; you 
 feel that you have so much to ask; so much to 
 pray for. But then a stupor comes over you ; 
 you try to rouse yourself, but in vain. You start 
 up : Where are my thoughts ? What ! have I 
 
 fallen asleep even in prayer, even in speaking to 
 God?” Thoughts seem fixed., it is not so much, 
 sometimes, that your thoughts wander, as that 
 they seem gone., as if they did not belong to you, 
 and you have no control over them. Sometimes 
 even floating images, or figures may flit around 
 you. If you wish to pray for your friends, it 
 seems as if all that you could do was just to men- 
 tion their names before God, and not as you 
 desire, to ‘‘ask those things which are requisite 
 and necessary as well for their bodies as their 
 souls.” You rarely, if ever, '‘'pour out your heart 
 before Himk” Sometimes you feel that if you 
 could only do so, that if you could only ask for 
 the strength which you feel so greatly to need, 
 then you know that “ He would rend the heavens 
 2 Matt. xxvi. 41. ^ Ps. Ixii. 8. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 85 
 
 and come down®,” and ‘^do exceeding abundantly 
 above all that you can ask or think It seems 
 as if the very endeavour to pray dispersed all your 
 thoughts. You have no realization of His pre- 
 sence ; and, what you think worse, no lively, 
 earnest desire to realize it. Does every thing 
 seem to you unreality and abstraction ? Does the 
 eye of your soul seem to be dimmed ? Do you 
 almost envy him who could say, I see men as 
 trees walking^?” You seem to see nothing. If 
 you catch sight of something, whilst you look it 
 floats away, and is lost in the maze of your 
 thoughts. You used to be sorely distressed with 
 wandering thoughts in prayer ; but now the trial 
 seems to be the absence of all thoughts. 
 
 You feel as if your mind were giving way; you 
 seem to see it crumble, even whilst you watch it. 
 What is coming upon you? Is it entire loss of 
 mind ? Oh, no ! it is the pervading presence of 
 weakness, which if it pleases God ever to remove, 
 and give you back your wonted strength of body, 
 shall be renewed also. In the mean time do not 
 struggle, but be still. ‘‘ It is the part of faith to 
 believe that, since nothing is of chance. He, 
 
 ‘ without whom not a sparrow falleth to the 
 ground V appointeth each accident of thy life. 
 He, with whom the ‘hairs of thy head are all 
 numbered®,’ knoweth every throb of thy brow, 
 each hardly-drawn breath, each shoot of pain, 
 each beating of the fevered pulse, each sinking* 
 of the aching heart. Keceive, then, what are 
 trials to thee^ not in the main only, but one 
 by one, from His all-loving hands ; thank His. 
 love for each ; unite each with the sufferings of 
 the Redeemer ; pray that He will hereby hallow 
 
 * Isa. Ixiv. 1. 6 Eph. iii. 20. ^ Mark viii. 24. 
 
 ® Matt. X. 29. ® Matt. x. 30. 
 
86 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 them to thee. Thou wilt not know now what He 
 thereby will work in thee ; yet, day by day, shalt 
 thou receive the impress of the likeness of the 
 ever-blessed Son ; and in thee, too, while thou 
 knowest it not, God shall be ‘ glorified,’ yea, and 
 ‘ shall glorify thee.’ ” 
 
 Perhaps you are looking for something which 
 does not now belong to you. It may be that you 
 are thinking that prayer is some hard, separate 
 duty ; that you are forgetting that when the body 
 is so prostrated, the mind must share in the pro- 
 stration ; that “ He that searcheth the hearts 
 knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit^;” that 
 He reads your heart, understands it all, knows 
 what you would say far better than you know it, 
 yea, even before you know it yourself. 
 
 It is the posture of the soul, the renunciation 
 of the will, or rather our will being so united with 
 His, that they are no longer two wills, but as one 
 wdll, that He looks at. He who created you 
 surely knows of what you are made. ‘‘He knoweth 
 your frame ; He remembereth that you are dust^;” 
 not once knew it, but remembers, it. 
 
 Do not fear then. He is “ very pitiful, and of 
 tender mercy He does not need your words 
 to enable Him to understand your thoughts, “all 
 things are naked and opened unto the eyes of 
 Him with whom we have to do\” 
 
 Silence and submission are your offerings now, 
 and will be as acceptable in His sight as were 
 your prayers in other days. 
 
 Do not think that continuous speaking to God’ 
 is the only kind of true prayer. “ Lord, Thou 
 knowest my desire^ and my groaning is not hid 
 from Thee^” It is at your heart that He looks. 
 
 1 Rom. viii. 27- ^ Ps. ciii. 14. ^ James v. 11. 
 
 * Heb. iv. 13. * Ps. xxxviii. 9. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 87 
 
 He sees what is there, things which you cannot 
 frame into words, which you cannot express, He 
 fully understands. You cannot tell Him any 
 thing; He knows that. You can only say, 
 ‘‘ Lord, help me®."’ He hears, and will surely 
 answer you. You say when you wake in the 
 morning, and in the night, and often in the day, 
 “Vouchsafe, 0 Lord, to keep me this day without 
 sin^” That is prayer, most true prayer. He does 
 not measure its worthiness by its length, but by 
 its sincerity. The mere sense of being in His 
 arms, of His understanding you, of His loving 
 you, and embracing you, that is prayer ; for it is 
 the losing yourself in Him. 
 
 Do you not often find answers coming to your 
 derives ? You scarcely thought that they had been 
 expressed ; but He was very near, yea, within you : 
 you could not speak, but He interpreted your 
 silence.” He saw you, and He said for you, “ The 
 spirit indeed is willing,- but the flesh is weak®,” 
 and the Holy Spirit “made intercession for you 
 with groanings which cannot be uttered Never 
 mind your inability to speak, only offer up your 
 whole self : say, “ Thou knowest what I cannot 
 speak, and why I cannot : Thou knowest all things.” 
 But w’hen you say, “ Lo, I come to do Thy will, 0 
 GodM” do not be dismayed if the answer is, “A 
 body hast Thou prepared for me ^ do not be 
 dismayed if mere suffering is the answer, if it seem 
 to be a mere conflict between the flesh and the 
 spirit. If it be so it is an honour ; for it likens 
 you to your Lord and Master, to whom the same 
 answer was given.. The lesson for you now’ is that 
 your “ strength is to sit still And what if you 
 
 ® Matt. XV. 25. 7 Te Deum. ® Matt. xxvi.41. 
 
 9 Rom. viii. 26 . 1 Heb. x. 7- 9. Ps. xl. 7. 
 
 2 Heb. X. 5. 3 Isa. xxx. 7. 
 
88 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 feel too weak to ask Him any thing, too weak to 
 open your heart at all ? If this be truly your case, 
 and you do not deceive your self in supposing that 
 you have a will to pray, and that you desire to have 
 the spirit of prayer, then in a case of such ex- 
 treme sickness, it is enough for you to lie still, and 
 trust to God for an answer to what you would, but 
 cannot, speak. He will pour down upon us the 
 abundance of His mercy."” If He pours it down, 
 it will surely fall upon us ; we shall be moistened 
 with the dew ; and by degrees we shall be bathed 
 in it ; until it penetrate into every part of us. 
 
 No thoughts, or fears, of sin, need make a sepa- 
 ration between us and Him, or lead us to fancy 
 that because of it. His grace cannot reach our 
 hearts ; for He will ‘‘ forgive us those things 
 whereof our conscience is afraid."” He sees those 
 dark thoughts, too, of ours, how they separate 
 us from Him, and from our brethren, and what a 
 fearful trial they are to us ; He knows how they 
 belong to weakness and nervousness, and of them 
 also He says, The spirit indeed is willing, but the 
 flesh is weakk"’"' He in the days of His flesh 
 offered up prayers and supplications with strong 
 crying and tears, unto Him that was able to save 
 Him from death, and was heard in that He feared : 
 though He were a Son, yet learned He obedience 
 by the things which He suffered®."” 
 
 You are learning obedience also. Do not shrink 
 from the lesson. You may, perhaps, have no ex- 
 citing, pleasant thoughts in prayer, or about spi- 
 ritual subjects; but, ‘‘ You could not hate sin if 
 He had not taught you to do so. Hating what God 
 hates, shows love to Him. If thou canst not love 
 with the affections, love with the will, or will to 
 love. If thou canst not love as thou wouldst, do 
 
 ^ Matt. xxvi. 41. ^ Heb. v. 7j 8. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 89 
 
 what thou canst. If thy love seems to have died 
 within thee, cleave to God with the understanding. 
 If God seem to thy mind, as it were, a phantom 
 which has no reality ; if thy prayers seem but 
 words, with no substance, sent idly into the air, 
 and not ascending to God ; if things unseen seem 
 to thee only a dream, things seen, the only reality ; 
 if fervid words move thee not, thoughts of love 
 kindle thee not, the passion of Christ melt thee 
 not, yet despond not ; but out of the deep cry 
 unto God, and He will hear thy voice."” 
 
 ‘‘ ‘ Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him 
 Seemeth this a great thing ? The great and holy 
 words will mean yet more, ‘ Lo ! if He slay me I 
 will trust in Him,’ not ‘although’ only, but because 
 He slayeth me. It is life to be touched by the 
 hand of God ; to be slain, is, through the cross 
 of Christ, the pledge of Resurrection. Yes ; then 
 may our hearts be strong and renewed, when, at 
 His pitiful touch, the ‘sinew shrinks.’ It is the 
 Redeemer’s hand, which upholds, whilst it seems 
 to cripple, strengthens, while it seemeth to put 
 forth His strength against our weakness : by His 
 strength we have power with God, while we can 
 only weep and make supplication to Him. Not 
 sensible comforts, nor delight in prayer, nor His 
 very voice to the heart, nor tokens of His pre- 
 sence, nor the overflowings of His consolations, 
 may he such a proof of His love for the soul, as 
 the unseen, unfelt strength by which He keeps 
 the fainting soul in life, to trust in Him.” 
 
 People in health have little or no idea of what a . 
 state of weakness involves. They are apt to tell 
 sick persons that they must have so much time for 
 prayer, that it is their present vocation; “they 
 are to be praying missionaries.” Alas ! how their 
 hearts sink at the words ; “so much time for 
 ® Job xiii. 15. 
 
90 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 prayer!’’ Yes, you know that it must seem so 
 to those who know nothing of the trials of illness ; 
 but you know that sometimes it seems quite im- 
 possible to pray at all; that often the effort re- 
 quired for any continuous act of fixed attention is 
 impossible ; that you fall into dreamy imagina- 
 tions ; that petition passes into mere thinking, or 
 into the entire absence of all thought. Sometimes 
 your infirmities keep you from even realizing His 
 presence at all. You feel that you are in His pre- 
 sence ; but as if you were asleep in His arms, 
 unable to think, or meditate, or pray, or realize any 
 thing. You are just conscious of this, and nothing 
 else : I am in His arms : He holds me. He is 
 
 embracing me, surrounding me w'ith His love, with 
 Himself.’" But then the thought comes. If it be 
 so, how ungrateful not to love Him more ; not to 
 speak to Him, and “ pour out my complaint before 
 Him, and shew Him of my trouble^ I” The answer 
 is. He knows that you louli to do this, He knows 
 all your heart. He knows that it is a grief to you 
 that you cannot do it. The desire of your soul 
 is to His name, and to the remembrance of His 
 holiness He knows that you cannot get beyond 
 that. He will not expect any thing of you that 
 you cannot do, for it is His will that you should 
 suffer as you do, and He has sent the trial. In 
 one sense He expects less of you than you do of 
 yourself ; He knows that it would be a pleasure to 
 be, and to you to feel that you are, in a higher 
 - state ; and He will bless and sanctify to you the 
 trial of being in a lower state ; and therefore you 
 may rest in His love V’ 
 
 That peculiar languor and stupor extends to 
 every thing; ‘4s it not therefore of the body^T’ 
 
 7 Ps. cxlii. 2. 
 
 ® Zeph. iii. 17. 
 
 * Isa. xxvi. 8. 
 
 ^ 1 Cor. xii. 15. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 91 
 
 Do not attempt continuous acts of prayer when 
 they are impossible. “ Lay your hand on your 
 mouth, and put your mouth in the dust*:’’ does 
 not that express silence ? Let your soul be silent 
 upon God In stillness, you will find God ; not 
 in the whirlwind, or in the fire, but in the still small 
 voice 
 
 Even when continuous prayer is impossible, it is 
 often a great help to fix on certain subjects, and to 
 remember each one at some stated time of the day. 
 Not to try to do more than remember it ; think of 
 it, keep it in mind, hear it on your heart before 
 God. So likewise, though you may not be able to 
 pray for your friends as you desire to do, you may 
 remember them in heart, and by name, one by one,' 
 before your ‘‘ Father, and their Father ; your God, 
 and their God ®.” 
 
 Do not make great efforts, or fancy that you 
 never pray unless your prayers occupy a given time, 
 unless they seem very fervent, unless you feel de- 
 light in them. ‘‘ Lord, help me ®.” ‘‘ My Father, 
 this is a time of need : help me now.” “ Gra- 
 ciously look upon our afflictions.” ‘‘ Pitifully be- 
 hold the sorrows of our heart.” “ Forgive all my 
 sin ‘‘ 0 God, make speed to save us. 0 Lord, 
 make haste to help us.” 0 Son of David, have 
 mercy upon us ®.” “ I am afflicted very much ® 
 
 help Thou me. ‘‘ Lord, have mercy upon us. 
 Christ, have mercy upon us.” These sentences, 
 and numberless others, which will occur to you as 
 need arises ; and above all, the Lord’s Prayer will 
 convey your wants to Him, and as surely bring 
 you answers of peace and blessing, as the most 
 
 2 Mic. vii. 16. 
 ® John XX. 17. 
 
 ^ 1 Kings xix. 12, 
 7 Ps. XXV. 18, 
 
 * Luke xviii. 38, 
 
 9 Ps. cxix. 107 . 
 
 ^ Ps. Ixii. 1. 
 
 ^ Matt. XV. 25. 
 
92 
 
 DIFFICULTV OF PRAYER. 
 
 lengthened prayer ever did, in days of your strength 
 and vigour. 
 
 We must remember also that it is not our prayers 
 alone that are offered, that they are all moulded 
 afresh for us, offered again, by our Intercessor; 
 and “ His intercession has also this further per- 
 fection. It is the prayer not only of Divine love 
 and knowledge, but of perfect human sympathy. 
 ‘We have not an High Priest which cannot be 
 touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was 
 in all points tempted like as we are, yet without 
 sin h’ What as God, He could never taste; as 
 Man, He tried to the uttermost. He knows us as 
 perfect Man. The mysterious knowledge of per- 
 sonal experience, of personal suffering in human 
 flesh, which He gained on earth, He has still 
 in Heaven. Even before the eternal throne, He 
 has still a perfect sense of our infirmities, of all the 
 mystery of human sorrow which He learned on 
 earth, from the manger to the Cross. And it is 
 specially in this connexion that St. Paul goes on 
 to encourage us to pray. ‘ Let us therefore come 
 boldly,’ he says, ‘ unto the throne of grace, that we 
 may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time 
 of need^’ Out of this perfect love, knowledge,^ 
 and sympathy, He perpetually intercedes for each 
 of us according to our trial and our day. There 
 can come upon us nothing which has not its coun- 
 terpart and response in His perfect compassion. 
 While He prays for us. He feels with us. To Him 
 we may go as to one who is already pleading for 
 us ; and through Him we may draw nigh to God 
 in His perfect merits, which He has given us for 
 our own. They are ours, because they are His ; 
 because they are His, therefore hath He given 
 them to us.” 
 
 1 Heb. iv. 15. 
 
 2 Heb. iv. 16. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 93 
 
 What though you cannot pray, He is praying 
 for you. Only put yourself into His hands, and 
 let Him plead for you ; give yourself up to Him. 
 If your will is one with His, what He asks will 
 surely be what you would have desired for yourself, 
 if you had had the power to ask or think. He 
 knows all. He knows how bitter it seems to you, 
 when your friends seem to fancy that your time is 
 chiefly spent in prayer and meditation ; when they 
 seem to be relying on your prayers to bring down 
 blessings on them. You know, that if you tried 
 to explain your case to them, they would either 
 think that it was humility in you — that you would 
 not own your saintliness ; or they would think you 
 in a very bad state ; and almost needing a com- 
 plete "change of heart. Be not out of heart, ‘‘ Grod 
 is Judge Himself^ and He knoweth your down- 
 sitting and your uprising, and understandeth your 
 thoughts afar off, and is acquainted with all your 
 waysk"’’’ You will ask Him once and again, if it 
 please Him, to give you the spirit of “ prayer and 
 of supplication If still He sees it necessary 
 for your humiliation to deny it to you, then ask 
 Him to bless the trial : at least to hear your 
 breathing, your groaning, and to let you have a 
 sense that He does hear it ; and a sense of His 
 presence, and His nearness. 
 
 But if for a season even this blessing should be 
 denied to you, if you cannot feel that He is near, 
 at least try to believe that it is so ; if you must 
 say, Behold, I go forward, but He is not there ; 
 and backward, but I cannot perceive Him : on the 
 left hand, where He doth work, but I cannot be- 
 hold Him®;” still, try to say also, ‘'But He 
 knoweth the way that I take : and when He hath 
 
 ^ Ps. cxxxix. 2, 3. 
 
 ® Job xxiii. 8—10. 
 
 3 Ps. 1. 6. 
 
 * Phil. iv. 6. 
 
94 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 tried me, I shall come forth as gold.’’ Yes, though 
 you are in this hot furnace, the Eefiner is sitting 
 by, watching you closely. He notices each portion 
 of dross as it falls away. You may not see Him, 
 but He is sitting by, watching you most tenderly 
 and patiently. He “ puts your tears into His 
 bottle V’ although they be but the tears of the 
 heart, and never expressed by the eyes. He sees 
 them all, ‘‘ not one of them is forgotten before 
 Him®.” And even if you seem to yourself quite 
 forsaken by God, it cannot be worse with you, than 
 with Him, who said, ‘‘ My God, my God, why hast 
 Thou forsaken me®?” At least He is with you 
 in the deepest sympathy, and most tender pity. 
 You say, 0 my God, I cry in the day time, but 
 Thou hearest not ; and in the night season also I 
 take no rest k” ‘‘ Thou hast laid me in the lowest 
 pit : in a place of darkness, and in the deep. Thine 
 indignation lieth hard upon me, and Thou hast 
 vexed me with all Thy storms. Lord, why ab- 
 horrest Thou my soul : and hidest Thou Thy face 
 from me ? I am in misery, and like unto him that 
 is at the point to die ®.” But you can never say 
 these words alone ; you cannot feel, “ never was 
 sorrow like unto my sorrow ®,” or grief like unto 
 my grief ; for there is One who “ bare your griefs, 
 and carried your sorrows and who bears them 
 now. 
 
 You would not dare to utter your temptations, 
 lest you should be suggesting thoughts to some 
 other sufferer, in whose mind they had as yet found 
 no place. Do not fear to tell them all to Him. 
 No temptation that can assault you, can be strange 
 to Him. “ He suffered being tempted, that He 
 
 ^ Ps. Ivi. 8. ® Luke xii. 6. ^ Matt, xxvii. 46. 
 
 1 Ps. xxii. 2. 2 Ps. Ixxxviii. 5, 6. 14, 15. 
 
 ® Lai>v i. 12. * Isa. liii. 4. 
 
DIFFICULTY OF PRAYER. 
 
 95 
 
 might be able to succour them who are tempted 
 In those forty days in the wilderness, every form 
 of temptation came before Him. Do not fear to 
 lay open all before Him, whom the devil tempted 
 to cast Himself from a pinnacle of the Temple ; 
 for He overcame the tempter then, that they who 
 trust in Him might never be overcome by his 
 temptations. 
 
 Very much in your case is owing to physical 
 suffering, to extreme exhaustion, to having lost 
 the power of judging justly, and seeing how things 
 truly are. This, perhaps, seems poor consolation. 
 Far better is it to say, you cannot understand 
 yourself ; do not try ; you will but get into end- 
 less perplexities ; do not reason ; do not question 
 yourself about your state before God ; but lay it 
 open, or rather lay open your heart, yourself, your 
 will, before Him. Words are not necessary ; He 
 only wants you to offer yourself^ and to let Him do 
 with you as He sees best. 
 
 Sometimes it is a great help to use the prayers 
 of the Church : the Collects, or the Service for 
 the Visitation of the Sick. Do not think it must 
 be formal to read it ; and that it is a very formal 
 thing to have a Service on purpose to read to the 
 sick when they are visited. Would the Church 
 have provided for all her members if she had fur- 
 nished no Service for the Sick ? Surely she could 
 not, if she were a true mother, do otherwise. The 
 more you study that Service, the more you will 
 find it adapted to your wants. It teaches in a 
 wonderful manner what are the trials, and tempta- 
 tions, and duties, and responsibilities, and blessings 
 belonging to sickness. The whole meTining and 
 purpose of sickness is shown by it. And as the 
 Collects are short, and the words exactly express 
 5 Heb. ii. 18. 
 
96 
 
 ABSENCE OF WORK, 
 
 the wants of the sick, they are the greatest help 
 to prayer to all those who will use them. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 ABSENCE OF WORK, AND OVERTASKED STRENGTH. 
 
 Sick people are generally either so placed that 
 their work is very distinct, but as it seems to 
 them, far beyond their strength ; or else they are 
 laid aside from all work, and constantly distressed 
 because they are useless, as they suppose. Per- 
 haps you may be able to trace a connexion be- 
 tween some part of your trial and times that are 
 past, and find them closely linked together. Have 
 you never discovered how wonderfully this or that 
 is like chastisement for past transgressions? If 
 you are now called to work in the midst of great 
 weakness, and weariness, and suffering, were there 
 no vehement desires for work in times past, when 
 it was God's will that you should seem to be idle, 
 and quite laid aside ? Did you then recognize that 
 state as the will of God ? as one to be desired and 
 to give thanks for, because it was His will? Were 
 you not restless under that discipline ? did you 
 never cry out, 0 if I might but have worh ! I was 
 never formed for idleness ; my deep and earnest 
 desires to work, and to glorify God thereby, are 
 all crossed ; all my ‘pleasant pictures’ broken ; I 
 have not less tvill to do it ; I could work so 
 much more purely now than I could do formerly: I 
 know, indeed, that I have prayed to be ‘ sanctified 
 wholly ®,‘’ but I never expected that He would an- 
 swer my prayers thus?’’'' Was there never a time 
 when these, or such like thoughts, escaped you? 
 
 ® 1 Thess. V. 23. 
 
AND OVERTASKED STRENGTH. 
 
 97 
 
 Did you never beat against the cage in which the 
 Lord had shut you up, and try to break your way 
 out ? Did you never so occupy yourself with mur- 
 muring that you missed many precious lessons, and 
 did not hear His ‘‘still small voice and did not 
 know that this was His own “visitation,’’ His own 
 coming home to you to talk with you in your 
 chamber, where He would have found you “ still T’ 
 If instead of being still, and “ communing with 
 your own heart V’ were murmuring, can you 
 wonder if He said at last, that He would grant 
 your request? Perhaps He has answered it even 
 as you have asked, and given you work. It seems 
 to you to be beyond your strength. Do not com- 
 plain now. He has but heard your vehement cries, 
 and shown at once His fatherly correction and 
 forgiveness, by sending you work, and with it, suf- 
 fering. He saw that you could not bear the work 
 alone^ it would have made you proud, high-minded, 
 independent, you would never have known your- 
 self^ or how much you sought the work for self- 
 glorification ; for the sake of doing; for the very 
 love of activity. He saw it all — He said, “You 
 shall have your desire — you shall have work ; but 
 with it you must have a constant test of your 
 work, and of your motives. . If you really wish to 
 serve Me, then here is the work which I give you 
 to do. Will you do it for the love which you bear 
 to Me, because you love My service? It will cost 
 you very much suffering, but it is your own choice.” 
 Eeceive it then now — receive it all ; shrink from 
 nothing ; do not murmur ; be “ humbled under His 
 mighty hand®” — humbled for the chastisement, the 
 'punishment^ but at the same time “give hearty 
 thanks to Almighty God ” for the work which He 
 gives you to do. Do it as in His sight, as “ unto 
 ^ 1 Kings xix. 12. ® Ps. iv. 4. ^ 1 Pet. v. 6. 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 ABSENCE OF WORK, 
 
 the Lord, and not as unto man h’’ Do it cheer- 
 fully, thankfully, submissively, humbly, and take 
 each little thing as part of it, and therefore as the 
 expression of the will of God towards you, and 
 so to be taken patiently, and penitentially, and 
 silently, offering up your will to God as a “ living 
 sacrifice Be careful how you turn your bless- 
 ings into burdens ; rejoice that “ He has counted 
 you worthy of this calling V’ ^nd if at the same 
 time He calls you to suffer, believe that you could 
 not do your work rightly or as safely, if you had 
 not at the same time suffering to chasten and 
 humble and subdue you ; to make you work all 
 5^our works in God. It is mry trying to feel day 
 by day so crushed and oppressed, as if the life of 
 your spirit were pressed out of it ; but beware how 
 you murmur. Would not your active spirit feel it 
 to be an hundred-fold greater trial if you were not 
 suffered to work at all, but called to lie still ? 
 
 Beware of murmuring, lest God should “ answer 
 you in your folly and give you the thing which 
 you have vainly fancied you should prefer. Be- 
 member that your work comes only moment by 
 moment, and as surely as God calls you to work. 
 He gives the strength to do it. Do not think in 
 the morning, ‘‘ How shall I go through this day ? 
 I have such-and-such work to do, and persons to 
 see, and I have not strength for it” No; you 
 have not, for you do not need it. Each moment, 
 as you need it, the strength will come, only do not 
 look forward an hour ; circumstances may be very 
 different from what you expect. At any rate, you 
 will be borne through each needful and right thing 
 “on eagles’ wings*.” Do not worry yourself with 
 misgivings ; take each thing quietly. Nothing is 
 
 1 Eph. vi. 7- ^ Rom. xii. 1, ^2 Thess. i. 11. 
 
 ^ Prov. XX vi. 6. ® Isa. xl. 31. 
 
AND OVERTASKED STRENGTH. 
 
 99 
 
 such a help to all people, but above all to the sick, 
 as quietness of spirit, self-control, presence of mind. 
 They may be cultivated to a high degree. We 
 may have to lament that we never cultivated these 
 things in early life — it will make the conflict harder 
 now, but “ with God nothing is impossible V" 
 
 He can “ work in us to will and to do of His own 
 good pleasure 
 
 Do you sometimes cry out, 0 that I had wings 
 like a dove ! for then would I flee away, and be at 
 rest^'’’ Be content; there ‘^remaineth a rest®’’ 
 for you, ‘‘ incorruptible and undefiled, reserved in 
 Heaven for you ' yet a little and you shall enter 
 it ; but “ though it tarry wait for it for it ‘‘ shall 
 surely come, and not tarry In the mean time 
 let us remember, that “ we which have believed do 
 enter into rest^.” Let us enter into God. He is 
 our rest, and He says, Come unto Me, all ye 
 that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest Let us look upon all our burdens as 
 laid upon us by Him ; our yoke as His yoke which 
 is lights because He bears it with and for us, and 
 takes off all the heaviest part of the weight from 
 us. Let us look upon all our circumstances as the 
 expression of His will, as His own voice speaking 
 to us. This will give them a sacred character, and 
 be the surest antidote to repining. 
 
 The opposite trial, of absence of all direct em- 
 ployment, of having no apparent work, is not less 
 trying. It is impossible to say that one state is 
 harder to bear than the other ; for it depends 
 entirely on the character, and circumstances, and 
 habits of the sick person. To one, a life of activity, 
 
 « Luke i. 37. 7 Phil. ii. 13. 8 pg. ly^ 6. 
 
 ^ 9 Heb. iv. 9. 1 I Pet. i. 4. ^ ii. 3. 
 
 ® Heb. iv. 3. ^ Matt. xi. 28. 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 ABSENCE OF WORK, &C. 
 
 under any circumstances, may be less trying than 
 a life of mere sickness. To another, work or re- 
 sponsibility are such burdens, that they would 
 almost prefer doing nothing, to a state which in- 
 volved these things. It is very foolish and sinful 
 in sick people to compare their lots, and say, 
 
 How much harder mine is to bear than yours ! 
 You are quite exempted from such and such trials, 
 which are to me so very hard to bear. If I had 
 such and such a thing, which you have, I could 
 bear any thing. Yours is such a useful life, mine 
 so entirely useless.” One may say, ‘‘You have 
 work to do ; if I had only that, all the rest would 
 be easy to bear.” Another, “ How I envy you the 
 quiet and rest that is given to you ! My cross is 
 the having none.” 
 
 Why should we wonder if it be thus ? for “ the 
 heart knoweth his - own bitterness ® the heart 
 alone, and Him who searcheth the heart. Yes, 
 each one'^s deepest grief is hidden from the eyes of 
 his neighbour. Sickness no more likens trials, or 
 likens character, than health does. If you craved 
 rest when you had work given you to do ; if you 
 sometimes longed for sickness, to give you, as you 
 fancied, leisure to serve God ; if you often lamented 
 that you had no time ; groaned under the burden 
 of your work, and did not do it with a free and 
 glad heart ; then do not wonder if you have the 
 answer to your cravings — prayers perhaps they 
 scarcely were — you wished for rest, and you have 
 it. Seek to improve this season ; do not spend 
 your time in mere desultory desires for blessings, 
 but earnestly ask God to “shew you wherefore He 
 contendeth with you®.” Listen for His answer. 
 “Watch to see what He will say unto you, and 
 what you shall answer when you are reproved 
 
 ® Prov. xiv. 10. ® Job x, 2* ^ Hab. ii. 1. 
 
ANNIVERSAIirES. 
 
 101 
 
 There is much for you to do even here ; lie still, 
 and He will be your Teacher ; but do not let the 
 voice of discontent or sadness drown His voice. 
 Ask Him to ‘‘open your ear to receive instruc- 
 tion Answer all questionings, and silence all 
 sad thoughts with, “ It is the will of God^'' 
 
 XVIL 
 
 ANNIVERSARIES. 
 
 There are but few people who have long known 
 sickness or sorrow, who have not a feeling of dread 
 of all anniversaries. The whole aspect of life is 
 changed — the clouds seem to have gathered black- 
 ness — the bright spots in life are become fewer. 
 Those days and seasons which once looked bright 
 and joyous, and were welcomed when they re- 
 turned, seem now to be “ full of trouble ® they 
 bring to remembrance all things that were bright 
 and joyous, but which are so no longer. There 
 was an unbroken family then ; there were voices 
 to be heard, which are heard now only in saddened 
 memory; there was precious sympathy to be had 
 then, joyful greetings, and sharings of our joy. 
 Life looked bright, and the glad spirit counted 
 from joy to joy, and expected only brighter joys 
 and blessings yet to come. There was perhaps no 
 thought of change then. 
 
 But years went on, and friend after friend passed 
 into the world unseen ; and made this life sadder 
 and more lonesome. Then sickness came, and life*’s 
 aspect was wholly changed. And now the days 
 and seasons return, and often seem but to mock 
 your sorrow. Your birthday is near at hand ! It 
 ® Prov. xxiii 12. ® Job xiv. 1. 
 
102 
 
 ANNIVERSARIES. 
 
 used to be such a gladsome day, and now you 
 dread its coming. And why ? It tells that 
 another year has passed, another long year of 
 sickness, and yet you are here in your sick-room, 
 just the same, no hope of being better, no 
 brighter prospect before you. The morning 
 comes ; 0 ! how it saddens you to hear the usual 
 greetings, ‘‘ Many happy returns ! rather would 
 you wish that there should be no more returns ; 
 at any rate, you cannot believe that they can be 
 happy. You think, “ Why grieve me thus? O! 
 do not remind me of my birth-day ; let the day 
 pass unnoticed."’ You are mistaken; you would 
 not like it to pass unnoticed ; you would count it 
 very unfeeling if no one noticed it, if no one cared 
 about it. Do not turn away unlovingly, or as if 
 you were annoyed, it is meant in true kindness ; 
 receive the greeting heartily, let it seem to give 
 you pleasure ; and then think whether there be no 
 reason why it should be a glad day to you. Your 
 birth-day, what is that ? The day that you were 
 born into this world of sorrow. Y es ! but is that 
 all? Was it not the day in which life began in 
 you, life which shall be eternal ? Could you have 
 the blessedness of everlasting life, if that life had 
 not begun here ? Do we not greatly err, in 
 separating this life from that which is to come (as 
 we express it) ? Is it not all one ? Life begun 
 here, and carried on eternally. Should you not 
 then give hearty thanks for your creation^ for your 
 birth-day ? Then think again what you would be 
 without this sickness. Could you hereafter un- 
 derstand the character of our Lord, ‘‘The man of 
 sorrows^?” Should you not be unlike all His 
 people whom you hope to live with for ever ? 
 Should you not rejoice then in this, your only time 
 
 1 Isa. liii. 3. 
 
ANNIVERSARIES. 
 
 103 
 
 of suffering ; and hall every return of the day of 
 your birth, as a day of blessing ? Let your birth- 
 day then be a glad day, a day of thanksgiving for 
 your creation and preservation, and all the bless- 
 ings of this life.’’ What though you meet it 
 apart from the family circle, yet rejoice in all their 
 loving attempts to unite you with-it, and receive 
 their' greetings gladly, until they become a part of 
 yourself, and make you glad also. 
 
 The anniversary of the birth-day, or of the 
 departure of one of your dearest earthly treasures, 
 comes. It seems to you a day of mere sadness ; 
 how shall you meet it ? If they were here, you 
 would not be solitary, your sickness would be 
 cheered, and you would have constant sympathy ; 
 they understood you, they knew the sorrows and 
 the loneliness of sickness ; they always had words 
 of tenderness and of encouragement for you — but 
 they are gone. Gone whither ? Into the world 
 unseen. Then “they are not far from you, you 
 know not how nigh.” Do not count them gone. 
 It is only intercourse that has ceased, you may 
 hold communion with them still; and therefore 
 you need not be separated from them. Your very 
 sickness may bring you nearer to them, because 
 as being much cut off from the society of your 
 fellow- creatures, you may dwell more in their holy 
 company, and with less interruption. You may 
 make such anniversaries holy days ; days which 
 shall draw you nearer to God, and to the unseen 
 world, and then by degrees they wilL lose their 
 sadness, and have a peaceful character instead. 
 
 Seasons, too, are great trials to the sick and 
 the lonely. The New Year comes, and brings its 
 own note of woe. What has been said of lairth- 
 days applies so nearly to this day, that we may 
 speak of Christmas instead. And can Christmas 
 
104 
 
 ANNIVERSARIES. 
 
 be a gladsome day to a sick person? Can it be 
 kind to wish them Christmas joys and Christmas 
 blessings ? Christmas, that glad time of family 
 meetings, which you cannot share ; Christmas, the 
 season of festivity ; how can it be a happy season 
 to you ? Surely above all seasons it speaks of 
 departed joys, and tells that the days are come in 
 which you say that you ‘4iave no pleasure in 
 them^"’ There are two ways of enjoying Christ- 
 mas, in which all sick persons should join. One 
 is, to enjoy it for and with others; to be happy 
 because others are happy; ‘‘to rejoice with them 
 that do rejoice and to make their pleasure your 
 own ; to enjoy the family meeting for and with 
 others, lecause they are enjoying it ; to lose 
 yourself in them. 
 
 The other way is, to remember what Christmas 
 is. The birth-day of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ. The day on which He came into this 
 world, and became “ acquainted with grief The 
 day on which He began to take upon Him weak- 
 ness, and suffering, and feebleness, and helpless- 
 ness ; on which He began “ Himself to bear our 
 infirmities®.’’ The time when He began to know 
 what loneliness, and want of sympathy, and of being 
 misunderstood by others, meant. The day on 
 which He came to redeem us from sin, to take 
 away the curse ; that curse which involves sick- 
 ness. Surely this is a day in which sick people 
 should rejoice and be glad, and they should hail 
 Christmas as a joyful day. And what if they 
 cannot go to church, and cannot worship with 
 others ; should they not be more independent of it 
 on this, than on any other day, because the 
 thoughts which they need, are brought so very 
 
 2 Eccles. xii. 1. 
 * Isa. liii. 3. 
 
 3 Rom. xii. 15. 
 ® Matt. viii. 17. 
 
ANNIVERSARIES. 
 
 105 
 
 home with them by all that is external ; by the 
 evergreens about their room, by the Christmas 
 greetings, by the festivities around ? Let us then 
 be glad and rejoice, and keep a happy Christ- 
 mas. 
 
 To some Lent is a sorrowful season ; they can- 
 not go to church, they can make no outward 
 difference, although it is a time of humiliation ; 
 they say, that perhaps they ought to do some- 
 thing, and yet what can they do? The whole 
 season is a weight and a burden to them — a time 
 of sadness. It is best generally not to attempt 
 much ; not to be vexed because you can do so 
 little ; some small thing you may find to do, 
 enough to keep you mindful of the season. It 
 may be some little abstinence (which of course 
 you will consider it your duty not to suffer to 
 interfere with the progress of your recovery ; or, if 
 that is not a thing looked for, at least let it be 
 something which shall neither do you any harm, 
 nor weaken you), it may be some little work of 
 mercy done regularly ; or some little self-denial. 
 What it should be each one must judge according 
 to circumstances. A season of humiliation is 
 especially one which should come home to your 
 heart, not in sadness, but as a likeness to your 
 own case, and fitted to remind you yet more of the 
 meaning of sickness, and its humiliations. 
 
 The season ends and passes again into one of 
 joy and thanksgiving. Have you no part in 
 Easter ? Is it too glad for you ? 0 ! surely it is 
 
 much every way to you. Passion- Week has 
 spoken to you of His death who has redeemed 
 death for you, and “ opened the kingdom of 
 Heaven to all believers.” The glorious earnest 
 of your resurrection follows this Holy Week. 
 He rose from the dead, in sure token that we 
 
106 
 
 THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 shall, if we ‘‘are found .in Him®,*” rise also. Let 
 us rejoice and give thanks, and rise out of the 
 grave of all our sadness, and “sit with Him in 
 heavenly places^,’’ and go on our way refreshed 
 and thankful, hoping that, when a few more 
 Easters have passed, we shall have ended our 
 suffering days, and shall “ rise with Him unto life 
 eternal.’’ 
 
 In Ascension-Day and Whit-Sunday, and all 
 the Feast Days of the Church, we may find fresh 
 reasons for rejoicing, and go on from step to step ; 
 rising higher above the darkness and sorrow of 
 life ; finding joy, or at any rate no painful sadness, 
 in each anniversary, whether belonging to our own 
 individual life, or to the Church universal. 
 
 RELATIVE TRIALS. 
 
 1 . 
 
 THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 In this life pleasures and pains are so closely con- 
 nected, that often the things which bring the 
 greatest enjoyment, are also the most fruitful 
 sources of trial. Thus, although we derive our 
 greatest earthly happiness from the kindness and 
 love of our kindred and friends, yet they cause us 
 trial. Their visits are often a source of great 
 discontent and disappointment to sick people. 
 Perhaps they are hurried and short, and before 
 you have overcome the excitement of first seeing 
 6 Phil. iii. 9. 7 Eph. ii. 6 . 
 
THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 107 
 
 them, they have left you ; or they may have been 
 just at a time when you felt the least able to 
 enjoy them, when you were very weak, or more 
 than usually ill. Or your friends may have seemed 
 absent, and you may have thought them cold 
 and unkind, unsympathizing, uncaring for your 
 circumstances ; or their conversation may have 
 been very desultory ; they may have introduced a 
 great variety of subjects and dwelt upon none. 
 Y ou feel wearied and dissatisfied ; you too well 
 know that nothing is more exhausting to you than 
 this kind of visit, especially if the talk has been 
 much about persons, or mere passing events, or 
 gossip. Or, your friends may have stayed with 
 you much longer than you had strength for ; and 
 though at first you enjoyed their company, at last 
 your body grew so weary, that you lost your 
 pleasure in it, if not in them. 
 
 In their kindness they may have urged you to 
 make efforts which you know to be impossible ; 
 and you may think that they do not understand 
 you, and feel almost angry with them, and part 
 with an estranged feeling, which, if it is not re- 
 sisted, grows upon you. Or you may feel con- 
 strained in conversation, and that with almost 
 every one there is some subject to be avoided, so 
 that all intercourse is fettered. Alas ! it is too 
 true ; but surely this is a trial which belongs to 
 those in health fully as much as to you ; they 
 come more into collision with others, and really 
 suffer from this trial oftener than you do. But 
 you are laid aside, you dwell on each thing, see it 
 apart from the rest, and therefore it seems to you 
 as if your lot was a very trying and isolated one. 
 
 The subject of society is a very difficult one to 
 sick people. Some are quite overdone by the 
 many persons whom they see ; it is an incessant 
 
108 
 
 THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 wear upon their strength, a distraction to their 
 minds, and takes up the best of their time. To 
 some this is a great enjoyment — they like the dis- 
 sipation. To others it comes in the form of real, 
 constant trial — a daily cross ; if they could choose, 
 and see only certain persons, and at certain times, 
 they would indeed feel thankful. If circumstances 
 make it plain that this is their calling^ they have 
 no right to try to alter it, or to groan under it ; 
 but should seek to learn how to receive each person 
 as the present message sent to them by God for 
 their profit, either to help and bless them, or to try 
 their patience, and faith, and hope, and love ; to 
 exercise them in these things. Or the visitor may 
 be sent to receive from the sick person ministries of 
 consolation, or help, or warning. If it be plainly 
 marked out that it is your duty to see them, that 
 you are called to do so, then do not shrink from the 
 suffering it may cost your body, but yield up that, 
 as you have often done before, as a “ living sacri- 
 fice V’ and ask God to bless the visit in whatever 
 way He sees best, and so shall you hereby enter- 
 tain angels unawares 
 
 Some people will tell you that you look par- 
 ticularly well, just when you are suffering the 
 most. Others will say, “ How much better you 
 look than when I saw you last ! when you know 
 and feel that you have been growing worse ever 
 since. Some will say, You look so much better 
 than I expected to see you ; your eyes are so 
 bright, and you look so cheerful, you cannot surely 
 be suffering as much as you say when you well 
 know how great the effort is to be cheerful, and 
 the enemy offers the thought to ,you, ‘‘Ami then 
 to be punished for the very thing which I do, 
 because it seems to me a Christian duty to do it T’ 
 
 1 Rom. xii. 1. ^ Heb. xiiL 12. 
 
THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 109 
 
 No, not punished^ but tried by it. Satan tempted 
 Job, but God permitted it for his profit ; thus it 
 is with you. Do not be out of heart. No two 
 persons will give you the same opinion of your 
 appearance or state. Some will tell you that you 
 look better, in order to cheer you ; others, from 
 ignorance ; others, because they do not remember 
 how you looked when they saw you last, and yet 
 they think they must say something ; others, from 
 their own mood of mind at the time — if all things 
 look bright to them, they fancy you look better, 
 or the reverse. Others think that you are ‘‘ only 
 nervous,” and that they can bring you out of it by 
 this means; that you are deluding yourself and 
 others, by your fancies about your health. People's 
 words and opinions are often very teasing to the 
 sick, and cause great searchings of heart, yet they 
 really ought not to be heeded so much, or to cause 
 distress. Looks, especially, are no real guides; 
 people often look the best when they are the most 
 ill, and the reverse. So much depends on natural 
 appearance or complexion, and many other causes. 
 
 Do not think your friends unloving or unkind, 
 if they never ask how you are, or show anxiety 
 about you. Some people do this in mistaken 
 kindness ; they fancy that it does but bring your 
 illness before you, or puts you to pain, or annoys 
 you. It is true that some sick people have a 
 great dislike to being asked how they are, and 
 from various reasons. Sometimes it is from a 
 mere feeling of despondency — almost of despair. 
 They have only the same, or a worse tale to tell, 
 and they hate the tale. Sometimes it is from a 
 dislike of being reminded of their state. Some- 
 times it is because they fancy that it shows an 
 absence of selfishness not to speak of self. 
 
110 
 
 THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 Sometimes it is that they do not like that their 
 'illness should be known or talked of, and will not 
 therefore put people in possession of any means of 
 doing so. Some shrink from all notice, or have - 
 complaints that they wish to conceal. All these 
 are morbid feelings ; and the last two often lead 
 to deception and equivocation. It is best to 
 answer briefly and simply. It is easy to see 
 whether people ask for form's sake, or because 
 they take a real interest in you. Give to the 
 former as brief answers as are consistent with 
 courtesy. Answer the questions of the latter 
 even as they are asked, kindly and freely ; and as 
 soon as you can politely, change the conversation. 
 Do not get into a habit of talking much of your- 
 self, or of your complaints. It is very injurious, 
 and produces a habit of self-contemplation, which 
 makes you burdensome to others, and will be sure 
 to grow upon you. 
 
 There are times when it is good to do so, with 
 those who can well understand us — can analyze 
 our feelings for us — can advise us ; and who will 
 rebuke us when we are self-indulgent. 
 
 Try to cultivate self-control in all your words, 
 and looks, and actions. Do not show the pain you 
 are suffering, more than you can help, in your coun- 
 tenance ; it is surprising how much habit and dis- 
 cipline may do on this point. Be very careful also 
 how you describe your pain. Never exaggerate it 
 in any way ; for this is sure to increase its reality 
 to yourself, and also it is a sinful thing. Conceal 
 your pain from general observers as much as you 
 can, in word, look, and action. 
 
 Do not count your friends unloving if they re- 
 prove you, or even if they seem to you to rebuke 
 you sharply ; receive their reproofs as the truest 
 
THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 token of love and faithfulness; “Faithful are the 
 wounds of a friend®."’ Would they show their 
 love by “suffering sin upon youM” Your first 
 impulse may be to resent it, or to think it very 
 unkind and unfeeling, to add to your suffering, 
 instead of trying to lessen it; or you may be 
 tempted to answer fretfully and angrily ; if you do 
 so, you will probably deprive yourself of the bless- 
 ing another time. Sick persons are sometimes 
 strangely jealous of any one thinking it possible 
 that they can be in a wrong state of mind, or are 
 indulging in wrong tempers. Sometimes they 
 think that every one ought to bear with whatever 
 faults they have ; that they have excuse enough in 
 their pain, or in the trials of illness. Will this be 
 a plea, think you, that you should dare to urge at 
 the “ great and dreadful day of judgment How 
 then can you safely urge it now ? Is not the pre- 
 sent time the season of preparation for that awful 
 hour? Is not your sickness sent to help you in 
 the preparation ? Would you then refuse this good 
 gift of God, by making it an excuse for sin ? No ; 
 surely you will seek to be more and more thankful 
 to those friends who imitate the example of the 
 Church, and teach that exhortation is the true 
 comfort. Do not measure the love of your friends 
 by their words, or always by their deeds ; but take 
 each person naturally, according to their cha- 
 racters, and expect nothing from them but what is 
 reasonable ; which is to be judged of by their 
 habits. Do not expect them to depart from these 
 for you, or look upon their not doing so as any 
 personal slight. 
 
 If you are in the house with many persons, some 
 of them may rarely come to see you, unless some 
 special occasion brings them. Others may come 
 
 3 Prov. xxvii. 6. ^ Lev. xix. 1 7. 
 
112 
 
 THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS, 
 
 daily, or yet more frequently. Do not judge them 
 by these things, but by what you know of their 
 character as a whole. Seek to be as little pained 
 by these things as you possibly can attain to; 
 which will be far beyond what you can imagine, 
 until you try to learn and practise this self-disci- 
 pline. Do not express your disappointment at 
 friends not coming more frequently to you, except- 
 ing to those persons to whom you see that your 
 doing so gives pleasure, and makes them feel that 
 you like their society ; at any rate, do not show 
 that it has given you pain. For if your friends 
 are either shy, or reserved, or indolent, and these 
 have been the causes of their absence, you will but 
 drive them further from you, and hinder the plea- 
 santness of intercourse when you have it, and give 
 an awkwardness and constraint both to yourself 
 and to them. 
 
 Be careful not to find fault, or to be displeased, 
 if your friends do not tell you of every thing that 
 happens in the family, or that interests them. 
 
 Believe that it is their wish to give you pleasure ; 
 but it is with them even as you complain of its 
 being with you ; they forget what they intended 
 to have said or done, just at the right time, when 
 they are with you. Neither think them unkind, if 
 they do not always propose to you to see people 
 when they come. You cannot expect always and 
 at all times to be borne in mind. With the kind- 
 est and best friend this will not be, excepting in 
 very rare instances. It will spoil all your inter- 
 course with your friends, and be as much for your 
 as for their trial, if you expect such a thing. Be 
 very thankful always, and show yourself pleased 
 whenever any kindness, however trivial, is shown 
 to you, when in any way you are brought into the 
 range of their pleasures and pursuits ; always ac- 
 
THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 113 
 
 cept each thing cheerfully and pleasantly ; nothing 
 is so likely to secure a repetition of the pleasure. 
 If it be not quite agreeable or convenient to you. 
 or what you like, try to hide that, and accept the 
 good will of your friend. 
 
 When friends come to visit you, that also has 
 its trials. Sometimes you may have made a great 
 effort to see them, and in body and mind be pain- 
 fully conscious of that effort ; you may feel that 
 you have intended kindness thereby ; or you may 
 have done some act of kindness, and it may fall 
 quite flat. Do not be out of heart, such trials are 
 common to man ; and sick people cannot expect 
 to be exempted from them. Or you may begin a 
 conversation, hoping to find it a subject of great 
 interest to your friend, as perhaps it is to you ; or 
 it may be some subject which is deeply interesting 
 to you at the time, and it may be received coldly 
 or abstractedly, or dropped at once, as if it had no 
 meaning in it. This i^ a great trial, but receive it 
 as such ; do not let it make you morose or discon- 
 tented, or selfishly shut up in yourself, resolved to 
 venture forth no more, lest you should but suffer 
 pain. Do not say, I have enough trial without 
 this. I think that they might remember that I 
 am ill, cut off from the pleasures of society, from 
 general intercourse. No, you have not enough, or 
 this would not have been added. It is but a sam- 
 ple of life that you receive ; you are tried thus less 
 frequently than they who come in contact with 
 many people. Remember this, ‘‘ Charity beareth 
 all things Remember, too, that mere sickness 
 does not exercise us in many needful points. It is 
 these additions that try us, and are “ to humble 
 us®.” Besides, you say that you wish to have 
 more part in life ; do not shrink then from a share 
 ® 1 Cor. xiii. 7« ® Deut, viii. 2. 
 
 I 
 
114 THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS. 
 
 in these ‘‘ lesser sharpnesses of our common griefs.” 
 Do not think your friends unreasonable if they ex- 
 pect too much from you. Perhaps they expect, or 
 they seem to you to do so, that they shall never 
 see any indication of discontent, irritability, or 
 want of cheerfulness in you ; they think that ill- 
 ness is sent to do you good, and they expect to see 
 the good crop springing up in what is really the 
 seed-time. If they are true friends, they may per- 
 haps rebuke you, not, as it seems to you, very rea- 
 sonably and gently. Either you grow angry, or 
 else you say in your heart, ‘‘ How unreasonable ; 
 why surely sickness does but stir up all the evil 
 that is in me, not subdue it. It is very hard, when 
 I am struggling all the day long, that I should 
 meet with such unreasonable treatment.” Truly 
 it is very trying ; but is it quite as unreasonable 
 as it seems to you ? 
 
 If your friend has not been in your circumstances, 
 can he know them ? He reasons on the common 
 belief that sick people ought to be gentler and more 
 loving, and to show forth the fruits of the Spirit 
 more than others do. 
 
 To a great extent this is a truth ; but, like most 
 statements, it is not the whole truth. 
 
 Do not think them unkind, if they urge you to 
 make efforts which you feel to be quite beyond 
 your power. Do not resent it as an unkindness, 
 but believe that it was intended for your real good ; 
 perhaps from the fear of your falling into greater 
 depths of illness, or of your becoming a confirmed 
 invalid, or, what is worse, a nervous patient. Listen 
 to them quietly and patiently; say, gently, that 
 you have often made such attempts, and always 
 find yourself the worse for them, but that you will 
 gladly try again if they wish it ; or you will ask 
 your Physician'’s advice about it the first oppor- 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 115 
 
 tunity. If you are really conscious that you are 
 doing the utmost that you have power to do, then 
 be content to be misunderstood, and take it pa- 
 tiently. Tell it all to Him who never misunder- 
 stands, and who reads your heart. 
 
 Do not expect them to tell you every little thing 
 that you would like to hear. Perhaps they have 
 mentioned these things already to other people ; 
 they may not recollect that they have not also to 
 you ; or their minds may be much occupied ; or 
 they may have the full intention of telling you 
 something, or bringing you some letter, or some 
 new book, or something that they think will inte- 
 rest you, but it escapes their memory just at the 
 time they go to you. Believe in the love of your 
 friends, and rest in that, it will be the greatest 
 help to you. “Judge not therefore, that ye be not 
 judged 
 
 11 . 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Sometimes letters are a source of discontent and 
 disquiet to the sick. We have spoken of the 
 pleasure of receiving them, and how welcome they 
 are ; but sometimes if a friend does not speak as 
 much as the sick person would like of his illness — 
 or does not seem to enter into it — or seems wholly 
 to misunderstand the case, and thinks he can go 
 - out when he is longing to do so but cannot — or 
 thinks that he ought to try to make this and 
 many other exertions — or perhaps judges him 
 harshly ; then letters become a source of irri- 
 tation, and it is well if alienation of heart be 
 
 ^ Matt. vii. 1. 
 
 I 2 
 
116 
 
 LETTERS, 
 
 not produced. Now all these things surely are 
 sent to try us, and are intended for this purpose. 
 Nevertheless we should bear in mind that we 
 ought not to be angry or even annoyed ; that our 
 friend meant nothing but kindness, but being at a 
 distance, and unable to see us, could not possibly 
 know our actual state ; and wrote, either judging 
 from our own statements, the statements of others, 
 or from having formed an imaginary picture of 
 what state such and such symptoms would pro- 
 bably produce. Even as you do not like to be 
 harshly judged, do not judge your friends harshly. 
 Be very careful not to answer in an irritated tone, 
 or to let an unkind word escape your pen. If you 
 feel unkindly, do not write at once, wait until the 
 first feeling of vexation and its sad after-thoughts 
 have subsided. Ask the God of love to make you 
 like-minded with Himself, and to make this a time 
 for denying yourself, and to enable you to hide 
 from your friend that you have done so. You 
 may naturally and quietly tell your state ; but 
 do not try to make it appear worse or different 
 from what it really is, for that would be but an- 
 other way of expressing your annoyance. Sick 
 people often expect their friends to write to them 
 as frequently and as fully as if they wrote answers 
 to each letter, which is unreasonable. 
 
 It is not likely that people in health should 
 fully enter into the feelings of sick persons about 
 letters ; they feel so cut off from intercourse and 
 life, that they often have a craving for letters, but 
 a great disinclination to, or inability for, answering 
 them. A letter steals into the room so silently 
 and quietly that it does not fatigue as visitors 
 sometimes do ; it gives great pleasure to find that 
 friends remember us, and do not give over ex- 
 pressing it, even when we cannot acknowledge the 
 
VISITS OF CLERGYMEN. 
 
 ]17 
 
 cheering they have been to us. People often say, 
 “ I do not write to you, because I know how weak 
 you are, and that it only teases you.” 
 
 This is a great mistake ; sick people need let- 
 ters more, in order to keep up their connexion 
 with others, and value them far more than people 
 in health. If they fear to fatigue them, let them 
 say that they do not expect answers, and will 
 write again, in spite of not receiving any. Let 
 them never reproach sick people for not writing, 
 or think it any proof of want of affection ; and, in 
 like manner, let the sick remember how often 
 their friends abstain from writing to them from 
 truly kind motives ; and so let them never indulge 
 in hard or unreasonable or unloving thoughts of 
 them. 
 
 Few people know the full enjoyment of a letter, 
 or a message, even those often uncared for mes- 
 sages of love and remembrance, until they have 
 been ill for a long time. 
 
 III. 
 
 VISITS OF CLERGYMEN. 
 
 Another source of discontent often arises from 
 the visits of Clergymen. You may be living in a 
 large parish where it is not possible for your 
 pastor to visit you often, he has so large a fold 
 and so many sheep to look after. Remember that 
 you are not the only one ; that his time is greatly 
 taken up. Be thankful whenever he visits you ; 
 and be thankful also when he does not, if you 
 know that it is because he is visiting others, who 
 
118 
 
 VISITS OF CLERGYMEN. 
 
 have fewer means of instruction, and have had but 
 few opportunities of obtaining it. 
 
 Or, you may be living in a parish where the 
 people are rarely visited. If so, your case is not 
 peculiar; you have no cause to complain as if you 
 were worse off than others. Pray for yourself and 
 them, that the case may become otherwise, if so 
 it please God. 
 
 Or, the Clergyman may visit you, and the con- 
 versation may be entirely desultory, — about per- 
 sons, or on general subjects. 
 
 Or, he may be very shy and reserved; he may 
 deeply feel that he does not know how to address 
 you ; he may have an earnest desire to do it, but 
 feeling this difficulty may make his manner cold or 
 formal. You can say nothing ; you had questions 
 you wanted to ask ; advice to get from him ; but 
 you are straitened; you can ask nothing ; he 
 leaves you, and you say in your heart, with bitter 
 disappointment, that your “ teachers are removed 
 into a corner 
 
 Or, he may know nothing personally of illness, 
 and may not have much considered the wants of 
 the sick, which may be learned by an earnest 
 study of the Service for the Visitation of the 
 Sick.” He thinks, perhaps, that all the wants of 
 sick people are alike, their trials all coming under 
 the same class, and that what he says to one will 
 equally apply to every case. Perhaps he is as much 
 surprised that his words do not seem to suit you, 
 as you are that he says nothing which comes 
 home to your heart. He may have a method in 
 his visits, which you would interrupt if you asked 
 any question. You see that it is not agreeable to 
 him, it breaks the thread of his discourse, which 
 
 * Isa. XXX. 20. 
 
VISITS OF CLERGYMEN. 
 
 119 
 
 he cannot easily resume. He has adopted this 
 course with the sick, considerately, believing it to 
 be the plan most likely to edify them. Even 
 when, before he left, he proposed to read a chapter 
 from Holy Scripture, and then to pray with you, 
 he did not perceive your weakness ; he did not 
 notice that you could not now listen or follow, as 
 once you could ; that you needed that the length 
 of the Scripture read, and of the Prayer, should 
 be adapted to your physical condition, if you were 
 to have part in it. Perhaps you were unequal to 
 having more than two or three Collects repeated, 
 the words of which you would be so familiar with,' 
 as to require only the one effort of joining in the 
 Prayer, without considering also what words were 
 said, and whether you could offer them. You 
 expected much from this visit, and you are dis- 
 appointed, and feel more alone and unhelped than 
 before. 
 
 Or, the pastor may think something that you 
 say is erroneous, and spend the time of his visit in 
 combating the error, rather than in leading you 
 into truth: 
 
 Or, he may expect you to respond to certain 
 words and phrases. You are afraid to express 
 yourself thus; the words do not exactly convey 
 your meaning ; you- give a wrong impression of 
 yourself ; you say that you cannot use such words. 
 He is dissatisfied ; perhaps tells you that you have 
 not “the root of the matter in you® or that you 
 “have departed from first principles.” You are 
 discouraged ; perhaps you really meant the same 
 thing that he did, but you felt that you had often 
 used such words without any meaning ; that sick- 
 ness especially had revealed this sin to you ; that 
 
 9 Job xix. 28. 
 
120 
 
 VISITS OF CLERGYMEN. 
 
 you could not truly express yourself just so, though 
 you felt as if in reality you meant the same thing, 
 but were perhaps afraid of appearing better than 
 you feel yourself to be. Or, it may be that you 
 were confused or frightened, because you had not 
 been accustomed to be asked many questions 
 about your own inmost thoughts. You may have 
 had many things in your mind which you wished 
 to speak of, or questions to ask, but you felt that 
 you should not be understood. 
 
 xOr, you may have an entirely formal visit, and 
 be made to feel that it is so completely a matter 
 of business, that you find it hard to take any part 
 in it. 
 
 If you are in the house of a Clergyman, you will 
 perhaps see many Clergymen, but will not often, 
 probably, be much better off for pastoral visits. 
 Generally they will tell you that they dq not come 
 to ‘‘ mdt you, but merely as a friend ; that they 
 know how well you are already provided for in 
 your own house, and much better visited than you 
 can be by them. It is a natural supposition. 
 But when it is remembered that if you are one of 
 the family of a Clergyman, and he has much to do, 
 he will rarely have time to bestow on you ; he 
 thinks that he can see you at any time ; but when 
 you see him there are often so many personal and 
 domestic subjects to be spoken of, that all the very 
 little time is absorbed in them. You know that 
 he is ever ready at hand ; in any emergency you 
 would ask his help, but you, of all others, perhaps 
 the best know how overtasked his strength is — it 
 would be a mere pain to you to add any weight to 
 his burden. Moreover, it rarely happens that 
 members of a family can so throw aside other 
 relationships as easily to merge all in the Shep- 
 
VISITS OF CLERGYMEN. 
 
 121 
 
 herd and the sheep. They may have delightful 
 spiritual intercourse, but not exactly pastoral. 
 Therefore do not expect what in fact cannot be. 
 
 What you want is, to be encouraged by your 
 pastor to lay your troubles and difficulties before 
 him, and to receive his counsel and help. You 
 want to feel that you shall be understood ; that 
 you may have perfect confidence in him, without 
 any fear that your words will ever be heard by any 
 one else. You want to meet with ready sym- 
 pathy, not a dry, cold, abstracted hearing, or a 
 misunderstanding of your words. You want to 
 feel that whatever you say which is wrong he will 
 point out to you, *but not that he should suppose 
 errors in you, which do not exist ; not talk to you 
 of ‘‘ the errors of the present day,’’ and warn you 
 against them, but point out your own errors to 
 you. You want to have sin pointed out to you ; 
 to have plain honest truth spoken ; to be exhorted 
 more than comforted — not merely to be told of the 
 blessings of sickness, and that ‘‘whom the Lord 
 loveth He chasteneth V’ hut to learn that it is 
 chastisement. You want to be directed how, 
 ticallg^ to “believe in the Holy Catholic Church 
 and the Communion of Saints to be shown how 
 truly you are still a member of the Church — not 
 cut off, though a “sick member,” still “ preserved 
 in the unity of the Church.” You want to be in- 
 structed as to the best way of joining all the 
 members of the Church, and how to find that the 
 Services are for the sick, as well as for those who 
 can go to church. You feel that there are “green 
 pastures and still waters and you want to be led 
 into them. You want to be told what is your 
 “part and duty,” and how so to “fulfil your 
 
 ^ Heb. xii. 6. 
 
 2 Ps. xxiii. 2. 
 
122 
 
 MEDICAL ADVICE AND VISITS. 
 
 course**” that you shall indeed let your ‘‘joint 
 supply * ’’ that which is appointed for it to do. 
 
 A great help to profiting by the visits of Clergy- 
 men is, to remember that they are “ God'^s 
 ministers ® ’** — His priests ; that they come to us 
 in another character to ordinary men. “ They 
 are called of God as was Aaron ®.'” Like Moses, 
 they may be “ slow of speech and of slow tongue 
 They are “ men of like passions with ourselves ® ;*” 
 yet have they a special work and calling, which 
 fits them to be teachers, and the more willing we 
 are to learn of them, and to “ remember them who 
 have the rule over us, and submit ourselves ® the 
 more shall we find that they do bring us a mes- 
 sage, to which we “ shall do well if we take heedh*” 
 W e may learn much from those whose words are 
 not pleasing to our taste. We pass by many 
 excellent words because they do not seem to suit 
 us at the time ; we are provoked with them 
 because they do not suit us. The day may come 
 when they will return to us, and “ leave a blessing 
 behind * ’’ them. 
 
 IV. 
 
 MEDICAL ADVICE AND MEDICAL VISITS. 
 
 There is another trial which often gives rise to 
 feelings of great discontent in the minds of the 
 sick. It shows itself in two opposite forms; 
 sometimes they fancy because their friends let 
 them go on without seeming to wish that they 
 should have any additional medical advice, or any 
 
 3 Acts iii. 25. ^ Eph, iv. 16. ^ Rom. xiii. 6. 
 
 ® Heb. V. 4. ^ Exod. iv. 10. ® Acts xiv. 15. 
 
 ^ Heb. xiii. 7- ^2 Pet. i. 19. ^ Joel ii. 14. 
 
MEDICAL ADVICE AND VISITS. 
 
 123 
 
 change of medical men, therefore they do not care 
 for their recovery, or wish to try all means. This 
 fancy preys upon their spirits, and gives a feeling 
 of deep dissatisfaction. Were they to speak the 
 truth, or rather, if they knew their own hearts, 
 they would see how much they themselves are 
 wishing to try some new treatment, or to have 
 some new Doctor. Visitors often propose and 
 urge them to try some one in whom they have 
 special confidence ; perhaps they stir up the desire 
 in their minds, and even produce a feeling of dis- 
 satisfaction with their present attendant. The 
 sick person ponders it in his heart, and wonders 
 why his friends are so heedless and indifferent 
 about it. Why it is their love and kindness, 
 generally speaking, that makes them so ; they see 
 that little or nothing can be done, and they kindly 
 forbear to tease you with asking you to try fresh 
 plans, which may only give you much pain, and 
 end in disappointment. They .think it kinder to 
 leave you merely to the soothing remedies which 
 are generally resorted to when all others are in- 
 effectual, than to put you to the pain of under- 
 going many of the same remedies that have been 
 tried already, without success. If you wish to see 
 some new Physician propose it yourself, at least 
 tell some friend that you think you should like to 
 have such advice, if they see no objection; but 
 remember always when you are doing so, how 
 great a risk you are running ; his advice may not 
 suit you at all, it may merely add to your suffering. 
 You cannot expect that a stranger should take 
 the interest in you that one would who had long 
 watched your case and known you ; his manner 
 may be trying to you — his opinion only cause you 
 fresh pain. Weigh all these things thoroughly; 
 some sick people are constantly wishing for a 
 
124 
 
 MEDICAL ADVICE AND VISITS. 
 
 change of medical advisers ; and what do they 
 gain by it ? A succession of disappointments and 
 trials. Medicines given and rejected as failures, 
 hope after hope arising, and as often failing. 
 
 In an early stage of sickness it is very desirable 
 to have more than one opinion ; but when all right 
 means have been tried, it is a far more peaceful 
 plan to keep to some one Medical man, whoever 
 suits you best, and not to seek for, or hanker after 
 any more opinions. There are stages in the disease 
 in which it may be well, if your usual attendant 
 approves it, to have a fresh opinion, but the less 
 frequently the better. Some sick people have a 
 foolish jealousy of any new opinion. If friends 
 wish and propose it, it is a duty at once to fall in 
 with their wishes, and give them the satisfaction 
 of having tried all reasonable means. If they do 
 not care about it, then you may be content and 
 thankful, but do not be displeased if they express 
 their wish that you should see some fresh person ; 
 take it as a proof of kindness. Do not be discon- 
 tented, or think that they tease you needlessly. 
 
 Sometimes sick persons are discontented with 
 their Medical man because he finds no means of 
 relieving them. But surely this is not a just cause, 
 for we may be sure that, for his credit’s sake, 
 every honest Medical man will desire to cure a 
 patient ; and if he cannot do this, at least to give 
 all the relief in his power. 
 
 Sometimes sick people fancy that Medical men 
 do not understand their particular case. Perhaps 
 they may not, for they are working in the dark. 
 But is this just cause for discontent ? Could not 
 He who opened the eyes of the blind, open their 
 eyes to see your case, and give them understand- 
 ing to treat it ? Ask some friends, on whom you 
 can rely, if it seems to them as it does to you ; 
 
MEDICAL ADVICE AND VISITS. 
 
 125 
 
 and if their opinion agrees with yours, and they 
 advise that you should have another opinion, you 
 will gladly let it be so. But if this cannot be, then 
 take it as His will that you should not be relieved, 
 as His will that you must suffer still. This will 
 soften it to you, and enable you to receive the trial 
 meekly. 
 
 Sometimes we cannot but feel that Medical men 
 do misunderstand our characters ; they urge those 
 to exertion whose whole mind and spirit is actively 
 at work ; and to whom stillness is greater suffer- 
 ing and trial than are any of their remedies : by 
 doing so, they increase the restlessness and dis- 
 content which is in their patients. Or, sometimes 
 they let those remain idle, who need to be roused 
 and stirred up. It must be so, for they see but 
 little of their patients, are rarely acquainted with 
 them before their illness, and therefore cannot 
 know their natural characters. They hear only 
 our tales of illness, which we feel it necessary to 
 tell them fully ; and so they fancy that these are 
 our thoughts at all times — the food of our minds, 
 and that we need to be brought out of what seems 
 to them morbid. Therefore in kindness they urge 
 us, but indiscriminately : for they have cultivated 
 knowledge of disease, more than knowledge of 
 human nature ; and look at the countenance as the 
 index of disease, rather than of the mind within. 
 
 Another of the great trials which Medical men 
 often cause their patients, is the treating them 
 (not medically, perhaps, but morally) as “ nervous,"’ 
 “ merely nervous.” Do they not know, we some- 
 times ask, that they can say nothing more hope- 
 less and discouraging to sick people I 
 
 If they mean by it, it is nothing ; do not think 
 of it, try to forget it ; surely these words will not 
 produce the effect they intend. Instead of this, if 
 
126 
 
 MEDICAL ADVICE AND VISITS. 
 
 they said, ‘‘ These are morbid feelings, you must 
 struggle against them, they can be overcome ; it 
 will cost you a great and continued struggle, but 
 you will be rewarded for doing so there would 
 be hope and strength in such language, and the 
 work thus given you to do would be very useful. 
 The sick person would value the friend who would 
 speak truth to him. On the other hand, the effect 
 of saying, it is only nervous,’’ is to prevent the 
 sufferer from again uttering such thoughts, or any 
 that could be so construed ; to make him feel that 
 his Physician does not understand him, and to 
 shake his confidence wholly in him, even when 
 there is no ground for it. Yet he ought to re- 
 member, that the Physician merely used common 
 language, and did not intend to cause so much 
 pain. 
 
 If, on the other hand, he means by ‘‘merely - 
 nervous,” or “ it is a nervous pain,” really an affec- 
 tion of the nerves, why then his words are sad and 
 hopeless ; for no pains are so peculiarly trying, so 
 inexplicable, so incurable. But if this be the mean- 
 ing of the words, then surely it is better to be 
 told ; better to know the whole sad truth ; to be 
 able to face it all, and see what it involves ; and 
 to seek how to meet it, in the strength of the 
 Lord. 
 
 Do not trouble your Physician with questions 
 about his opinion of your state, the nature of the 
 disease, or its probabilities. You will gain nothing 
 by doing so ; he will perhaps argue from it, that 
 you spend a great deal of your time in thinking 
 about it. Except when any particular changes 
 occur in the disease, he knows nothing fresh, and 
 can tell you nothing but what he has already told 
 you. Y ou may tempt him to give you some most 
 unwelcome opinion as to its duration, or your 
 
MEDICAL ADVICE AND VISITS. 
 
 127 
 
 nervousness. You had better go on patiently from 
 week to week, asking no questions, just living in 
 the day and for the day, and feeling that after all 
 it is not in your Physician's hands ; but that it is 
 God who “ maketh sore, and bindeth up : He 
 woundeth, and His hands make whole 
 
 Always answer all questions asked by Medical 
 men clearly, distinctly, truly, and without any re- 
 servations ; but the less you volunteer about your 
 bodily feelings the better, unless there are any 
 necessary things to be mentioned which these 
 questions have not elicited. In this case describe 
 them in as few words as you can. Do not conceal 
 any symptoms from them. It is a mistake that 
 there is any delicacy in doing so. It may be a 
 great trial to you to speak of some things, and to 
 submit to some treatment ; but take it as a trial, 
 it is part of your discipline, and a necessary and 
 humbling one. Do not make objections to trying 
 remedies. It is your duty to try whatever is sug- 
 gested. Do not say that you cannot take this or 
 that medicine. Try it again, for under your pre- 
 sent circumstances the effect may be quite difiFerent 
 to what it was at a former time. You owe it to 
 your Physician to try any thing that he thinks 
 may be useful to you. 
 
 The manner in which Medical men often talk to 
 the friends of the sick, causes much trial to sick 
 people ; speaking of them as nervous ; saying that 
 they must be treated as such ; urged to make ex- 
 ertions ; that they have no organic disease ; thus 
 often causing them not only to think too lightly of 
 the illness, but to inflict great suffering on the sick 
 person by acting solely on the medical opinion, 
 irrespective of their own knowledge of the charac- 
 ters of their friends. 
 
 * Job V. 18. 
 
128 
 
 MEDICAL ADVICE AND VISITS. 
 
 One more trial a long illness frequently brings — 
 Medical men grow weary of the case. At first 
 they are deeply interested in it, but it will not yield 
 to their remedies ; they grow impatient of it ; call 
 it nervous ; then perhaps even turn the very ail- 
 ments to ridicule ; or make their visits less and 
 less frequent, until, on one side or the other, the 
 attendance ends. This is a sore trial, for the suf- 
 fering neither ends nor diminishes, but goes on its 
 weary way ; the strength, and nerves, and heart, 
 meanwhile, giving way. 
 
 Such trials should teach us most deeply to value 
 the long, unwearied, patient, faithful kindness of 
 some Medical friend, who has continued, in spite of 
 all discouragements, to visit still, not in the ex- 
 pectation of cure, but just in the hope of alleviating, 
 and soothing, and comforting. Such will, indeed, 
 have their reward ^ ‘‘ they shall be recompensed 
 at the resurrection of the just * and shall surely 
 find, even now, that “ blessed is he that considereth 
 the sick and the needy : the Lord shall have pity 
 on him in the time of trouble People are apt 
 to extol those who cure them, but how far greater 
 praise and gratitude do they deserve, who have 
 not this reward of their skill ? They who are not 
 blessed with such good gifts from God, may at 
 least take comfort that the Great Physician ‘‘ faint- 
 eth not, neither is He weary Though no other 
 hand may pour oil or wine into your wounds. He 
 will do it ; and He who has sent the pain, and all 
 its innumerable trials, will stand by, at all times, 
 to soothe, and cheer, and strengthen, and bless. 
 
 Drink then with the patience of the Saints, and 
 the God of Love will bless the medicine.” 
 
 ^ Matt. X. 42. 
 « Ps. xli. 1. 
 
 5 Luke xiv. 14. 
 7 Isa. lx. 28. 
 
NURSES AND ATTENDANTS. 
 
 129 
 
 V. 
 
 NURSES AND ATTENDANTS. 
 
 Another class of the trials which weakness brings, 
 belongs to the nurses and attendants. The innu- 
 merable fancies which will haunt a sick person on 
 this subject could not be written. Sometimes a 
 most violent dislike will be taken to some person ; 
 it may be quite without reason, but it seems im- 
 possible to overcome it. The sick person feels that 
 it is, perhaps, very sinful, earnestly fights against 
 it, but in vain, for the more he strives, the stronger 
 it grows. Each time the attendant comes into the 
 room he grows restless and distressed, and if she 
 comes near the bed or sofa, it is only by the mercy 
 of God that some words of annoyance or displea- 
 sure do not burst out. At any rate, it may cause 
 really distressing feelings — quicken the pulse, make 
 the heart beat quickly, or seem to stop. There 
 may be a sensation of not being able to breathe 
 when this person is near, as if she took up all the 
 air which you ought to have. She seems to op- 
 press you, to be as a weight on your heart or your 
 spirits ; you feel persecuted by her, and as if she 
 ought to be removed from your sight. Or what is 
 far more distressing, it may be some dear friend to 
 whom you feel all this, and cannot account for it 
 at all, only that you feel that they are not what 
 you want now; they provoke you by their awk- 
 wardness ; they cannot do any thing for you, ex- 
 cepting, as it seems to you, very clumsily ; they 
 seldom give you the thing that you wish for, or in 
 the way you wish it ; they ask which thing you 
 want? where they shall find it? how it is to be 
 given ? until you, feeling that they ought to know 
 all this, and not to trouble you, get vexed ; think 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 NURSES AND ATTENDANTS. 
 
 how little they do for you, and say that you had 
 rather not have the thing, than have to give so many 
 directions. If such a person should chance to sit 
 up at night with you, you feel given over to dis- 
 comfort for the night ; they cannot do a single 
 thing to please you ; you do not try to be pleased, 
 and they lose heart. 
 
 On the other hand, perhaps there is some at- 
 tendant whom you particularly like. No one else 
 can put your pillows comfortably ; no one else can 
 give you your medicines, or even the smallest thing 
 that you need. If any one else brings you your 
 food, you do not half like it, and feel neglected ; 
 and so wm not be pleased and satisfied, however 
 kindly and well the thing may be done by another 
 person. In this case there are temptations, as 
 well as in the former : there is the danger of over- 
 tasking the strength of your attendant — of taxing 
 her power, and laying heavy burdens on her ; and 
 the more kind she is, the more willingness she 
 shows to do what you wish, the greater is your 
 danger. Be very careful not to be exacting, in any 
 way, to your nurses : considering them always as 
 you would like to be considered; never wearing 
 them out, just because you do not like any one 
 else. to wait upon you, for this is very selfish. 
 Again, there is the danger that other people will 
 be grieved at your partiality for this one, because 
 you will not let them do any thing for you, or 
 show their desire to help you. It is a great duty 
 to avoid putting other persons to pain in this 
 way ; besides which, instead of their being drawn 
 closer in love to, and sympathy with, you, by your 
 illness, you will but put them further from you. 
 When this temptation to dislike your nurse is felt, 
 perhaps it may be of some help to you, 
 
 I. To resolve not to speak of it to any one. 
 
NURSES AND ATTENDANTS. 
 
 131 
 
 2. Because you are aware of it yourself, there- 
 fore to redouble your efforts to show kindness to 
 that person, in thought, word, and manner, and 
 especially, to pray for them. 
 
 3. Not to reason with it at all ; but to put the 
 thought away untouched, whenever it offers itself 
 to your mind. 
 
 4. To lay it open before God ; to tell Him how 
 very sorely it distresses you : that you cannot over- 
 come it, but that you hate yourself for it. Go on 
 doing so continually. Say — ‘‘Father, if it be pos- 
 sible, let this cup pass from me®.’’ But if not, 
 then ask Him to teach you to say, “ Thy will be 
 done.” Then take it as His will, and that will 
 change the nature of the trial: bear it submis- 
 sively, until He sees fit to remove it from you. 
 
 There may be many cases in which the nurse 
 that has been hired may be really very unsuitable, 
 therefore it is better to speak to some friend 
 about it : and if it seems to them in the same 
 light as to yourself, it is best to make a change as 
 soon as possible. 
 
 We may receive the most helpful discipline to 
 ourselves from the various characters of our at- 
 tendants, if we resolve to do so ; otherwise they 
 will but fret us, and stir up the evil which is in 
 us. We need not seek out those which will try 
 us. On the contrary, it is far better for them 
 and for us, that we should choose those who seem 
 likely to suit us. In every character we shall find 
 something not quite according to our liking ; let 
 us take this as wholesome discipline, and use it as 
 such. Are you very impatient and impetuous by 
 nature? Your attendant may be very valuable to 
 you, and yet she may be a continual chastisement 
 ® Matt. xxvi. 39. 42. 
 
 K 2 
 
1S2 
 
 NURSES AND ATTENDANTS. 
 
 to you by reason of her slowness. It is very dis- 
 couraging to her, and bad for you, that you 
 should be constantly chiding her for it, or trying 
 to hurry her. Take it as a means of correcting 
 the evil that is in you, and it will surely prove so • 
 few things can so constantly remind you of youi 
 besetting sin, and warn you to correct it. Espe- 
 cially watch over your tone and manner, for your 
 greatest danger is with your attendants. We are 
 apt to give sad license to ourselves with servants 
 and nurses; not merely forgetting how much we 
 must try them and pain them, but also what an 
 example we are setting to them, and how we are 
 weakening, if not destroying, the influence that 
 we might have, and ought to have, over them. 
 What if they are slow, or obtuse, or wayward, or 
 misunderstand us, or seem indifferent, or are for- 
 getful, or selfish — not willing to be put out of 
 their own ways? Let us ask ourselves, are we 
 never so too ? Have we never found any of the 
 faults in ourselves that we complain of in them ? 
 Have we tried to the utmost, by example, and 
 kindness, and gentle rebuke, and patience, and 
 forbearance, to overcome their faults in them? 
 Do we never try their tempers, and call out the 
 evil which is in them ? Have we asked God to 
 teach us how to help them, and to bear with them, 
 and to lead them aright ? Do we ask this day by 
 day, and whenever we come in contact with them ? 
 Many persons will speak sharply or impatiently to 
 an attendant, who would not do so to an equal. 
 Perhaps there is no check more wholesome than 
 watching one’s words and ways to servants, for 
 they are with us when no one else is, and at the 
 times we are least on our guard ; when only His 
 eye seeth, and His ear heareth, who will call us to 
 
GIVING TEOUBLE. 
 
 J33 
 
 account for tlme^ as well as all “ things done in 
 the body®.’’ You will also be careful not to 
 burden your attendant unnecessarily ; not to ring 
 your bell with unreasonable frequency, or when 
 you can do without the thing you wish for: 
 perhaps it is something which can wait until she 
 next comes up stairs. You will be careful never 
 to disturb her rest at night unnecessarily, to con- 
 sider her health and comfort ; to allow her proper 
 exercise in the open air, which those who attend 
 closely on the sick especially need. If she has 
 been up in 'the night, you will take care that she 
 has rest in the day. You will always consider her 
 time of meals, and not let it be needlessly inter- 
 rupted. You will always try to show to her that 
 you are satisfied and grateful to her — for those 
 who wait on the sick need a great deal of patience. 
 If she does not please you, it is best occasionally 
 to speak decidedly, but very kindly to her; and 
 not to be constantly making little complaints, and 
 finding fault with each thing; for that is so dis- 
 couraging, that you cannot expect her to do right. 
 You will resolve also to resist all desires, which 
 though, perhaps, not wrong in themselves, may be 
 very inconvenient or expensive to your friends, 
 but which they may not like to deny you. Re- 
 member, ‘‘ Deny thyself; take up the Cross V’ are 
 your Master’s words to you. 
 
 VI. 
 
 GIVING TROUBLE. 
 
 Do not distress yourself by thinking that jou 
 . merely give trouble.” How often sick people 
 
 2 Cor. V. 10. ^ Matt. xv. 24. 
 
134 
 
 GIVING TROUBLE. 
 
 say so ! How much oftener they think so ! and 
 the thought is indeed a distressing one. It is a 
 mercy if it proceeds no further ; if it does not 
 degenerate into thinking that our friends think the 
 thoughts that we have had in our own minds — 
 that they think us troublesome — that they are 
 growing weary of us. These thoughts offer 
 themselves to every sick person. It is right that 
 you should constantly endeavour to bear in mind 
 how great the trial is to those around. The more 
 tenderly they love you, the greater it must be. 
 Besides the sorrow that your sickness causes to 
 your friends, there is a peculiar sense of depres- 
 sion which pervades a household during sickness, 
 especially if it be a short and dangerous one. 
 Generally speaking, the habits of the family are 
 broken in upon, and in some degree changed ; one 
 is missed from the accustomed place in the 
 circle, and from all family meetings. When any 
 of the family have been out of doors, still to find 
 sickness meeting them on their return, gives a 
 sadness to them ; they can never take breath from 
 it, as it were, for it is pressing on them still. Let 
 not the thought of this depress you, but seek that 
 it may make you more loving, and gentle, and 
 considerate, and thankful to all those about you ; 
 and let it live during the rest of your life, in your 
 grateful remembrance. 
 
 There are many ways in which you may avoid 
 giving trouble, if you are really earnestly de- 
 termined to do so, and are not merely indulging 
 in morbid thoughts and words. You may be 
 constantly avoiding it, without any appearance of 
 doing so. 
 
 You will of course be careful, as much as pos- 
 sible, to let your hours and habits fall in with 
 those around: taking your meals at the same 
 
GIVING TROUBLE. 
 
 135 
 
 time, when it is possible ; making your free and 
 leisure times, those which will best suit other 
 people. As little as possible shutting out the 
 family from your room, or making a favour of 
 receiving them, or showing that you feel them 
 to be in the way. They come to you in kind- 
 ness — receive them kindly and cheerfully. 
 
 Perhaps it may help you when the fear of giving 
 trouble distresses you, clearly to set these things 
 before your mind : 
 
 1. Is it really a dislike of giving trouble, un- 
 mixed with other feelings ? Is there no pride in 
 it ? Is there no feeling of disliking to receive all, 
 and to give nothing ? Is there no dislike of de- 
 pendence, and striving for independence 1 
 
 2. The message is to your friends as well as to 
 yourself. You must not fear lest you should seem 
 the messenger of evil tidings. And even sup- 
 posing that they look upon it as an intrusion on 
 their comfort, putting out household arrange- 
 ments, and destroying domestic enjoyment ; then 
 they need the message but the more, and you 
 must be content to be the bearer of it. 
 
 3. You did not bring yourself into these cir- 
 cumstances : it was the will of Grod. He is too 
 wise to order His discipline, that it shall bless one, 
 and injure another, of His children. Be assured 
 that what is sent to bless you and to teach you, 
 is sent to bless and to teach all the household also. 
 
 • Ho not then say that you are in the way ; are 
 causing so much expense to be incurred, that you 
 give so much trouble, and yet you cannot put 
 forth a hand or foot to help. You are Grod's mes- 
 senger. Leave it to Him to apply the message to 
 each one. But do not mar it by trying to per- 
 suade yourself or others, that it is 7/oicr message, 
 and that you bring it very unwillingly. 
 
136 
 
 GIVING TROUBLE. 
 
 The greeting which the Church appoints that 
 Clergymen visiting the sick should give, is — 
 ‘‘ Peace be to this house^ and to all that dwell in it^ 
 The Son of Peace is in it. He has sent a mes- 
 senger to you ; do not be forgetful to entertain 
 this stranger, for hereby some have entertained 
 angels unawares*.*^’ 
 
 4. That lot only is good which God appoints. 
 He has placed you where you are ; He has ap- 
 pointed all your circumstances ; even to the most 
 minute. It is exactly adapted to your character : 
 nothing else would do so well, or teach you so 
 much. 
 
 Answer every suggestion of Satan, who would 
 tempt you to believe that these are not the best 
 circumstances ; that others would have suited 
 your character better ; with ‘‘ ‘ Get thee behind 
 me, Satan®,’ God has placed me here — It is the 
 will of God?'* 
 
 When any one suggests to you that they wish 
 it were otherwise with you, say, It is the will of 
 God,” — ‘‘the only wise GodV’ — “our Father®.” 
 When your own heart tempts you, no matter how 
 small the thing it is which it would persuade you 
 to wish otherwise, say, “ It is the will of God-” 
 the “ God of love.” 
 
 2 Heb. xiii. 2. 
 ^ 1 Tim. i. 17. 
 
 3 Matt. xvi. 23. 
 * Matt. vi. 9. 
 
137 
 
 t 
 
 TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 I. 
 
 THAT NO ONE CAN SYMPATHIZE. 
 
 Although you must ever look upon sickness as a 
 hidden state, fully known only to its wayfarers, 
 beware how you say, “ No one can sympathize 
 with me, no one understands me.*” For, besides 
 that it has a most chilling effect upon those to 
 whom it is said, throws them back, however much 
 they have wished to sympathize, and eventually 
 brings upon you the sad reality, it has also a most 
 injurious effect upon yourself ; and produces isola- 
 tion and loneliness of heart. Few stop at No 
 one can sympathize:’’ next comes, ‘‘No one will 
 sympathize;” in other words, “ I will not let them, 
 I will shut myself up.” 
 
 F ew say this in words ; they lay the blame on 
 other people, and think themselves very hardly 
 dealt with. But if they reject sympathy, and 
 always say when it is offered, You do not under- 
 stand me, you cannot enter into my trial by 
 degrees the attempt to offer sympathy will na- 
 turally be withdrawn ; which bitter trial they 
 have brought wholly on themselves by their own 
 free choice. 
 
 If you see in your friends the wish to sym- 
 pathize, accept it thankfully, even if you feel that 
 it reaches but a short way into your need, and 
 never sounds the depth of your trial. Be assured 
 that by degrees, if you cherish it, it will increase, 
 and adapt itself, by use, more to your needs. At 
 
138 
 
 IRRITABILITT. 
 
 first it may be very awkward. The person offering 
 it may feel this as painfully as 'you can do ; there- 
 fore feel for them ; give them your help, and you 
 will ere long have theirs. 
 
 Neither say, ‘‘in many things you can sym- 
 pathize, but not in this particular trial.” It may 
 be so ; most things must be felt in order to be 
 fully understood : but do not say so, it is so dis- 
 couraging. Tell it all to Him who never fails in 
 understanding, in sympathy, or in love. 
 
 Kindness is always precious : do not throw it 
 back ; accept each little token of it cheerfully, 
 thankfully. 
 
 Sometimes it may be something which you did 
 not wish just at that time. Never mind ; accept the 
 kindness, and keep that to yourself : do not give 
 your friend the disappointment, even if it cause 
 you some pain. Having shown yourself to be 
 really grateful, you may courteously ask not to 
 have the same thing brought to you again, if there 
 be any good reason for doing so. Do not assume 
 that things are your right ; but courteously and 
 thankfully receive each kindness, as a hindness; 
 each gift, a flower, or whatsoever it be, cheerfully 
 and gratefully. Kemembering always, that all the 
 kindnesses and love of friends, are gifts from the 
 (jrod of love. 
 
 II. 
 
 IRRITABILITY. 
 
 It is a great help and blessing to a sick person, to 
 be told when they manifest any of the irritability 
 which is constantly causing them such bitter con- 
 flicts, and with which either they are maintaining, 
 or they ought to be, one unbroken, arduous fight. 
 
IRRITABILITY. 
 
 1-S9 
 
 Sometimes without any apparent cause, it will 
 suddenly seem to seize their whole frame, arid 
 every nerve will sympathize with the wretched 
 feeling. God only knows how long it has been 
 suppressed, or how often it has offered itself 
 before, and been earnestly resisted. The tempta- 
 tion has been repressed, perhaps, for hours ; no 
 trace of irritability has been seen by others. 
 Some trifling thing occurs — perhaps it may be so 
 trifling that you hardly feel it necessary to watch 
 against it ; it may be a door shut violently, or not 
 shut at all, or held in the hand for some minutes, 
 whilst another person outside is spoken to, and you 
 have the double annoyance of expectation and of 
 hearing a whispering sound in which you have no 
 part ; or it may be a sudden noise — something 
 carelessly let fall ; or something forgotten to be 
 done, which you had particularly wished or de- 
 sired : or, some one suddenly touching you, or 
 your bed, or shaking the bed continually whilst 
 sitting by it; or coming into your room unex-‘ 
 pectedlj^, and in a bustle. These, or a thousand 
 other things, too small to name, but not too small 
 to feel^ may have caused a sudden expression of 
 irritability. You may have been exerting yourself 
 beyond your strength'- — the last bit of strength 
 may have been spent, it seems to you, just as 
 this new demand for it came upon you. It was too 
 much — you failed. It might be a mere physical 
 expression of nervous suffering, and not counted 
 as sin by Him who is ‘‘very pitiful.*” But your 
 friends can rarely distinguish. How should they? 
 for can you always, in your own case, distinguish 
 between these things which seem so much alike? 
 No, surely you cannot ; therefore do not count 
 them unreasonable or unkind if they reprove you 
 — it is a proof of true love in them, for it is often 
 
140 
 
 IRRITABILITY. 
 
 an unthankful task. See to it that it is not so in 
 
 vour case. 
 
 
 
 The effort to repress irritability sometimes gives 
 a pained expression to the voice and the coun- 
 tenance which is easily misunderstood, and there- 
 fore should be brought under control as much as 
 possible. Sick persons who are seeking to ‘‘ bring 
 every thought into captivity V’ will seldom utter 
 an irritable word, perhaps scarcely think an irri- 
 table thought, without an instant consciousness of 
 it. 0 then, what a conflict follows ! What, is this 
 sin cleaving to me still ? Is it not yet subdued ? 
 Must I suffer from it for ever? How long shall 
 I go on to dishonour my Lord and Master, and 
 to be so unlike Him who “ did no sin, neither was 
 guile found in His mouth ^ ?**’ Have all my strug- 
 gles been a lie ? Have all my prayers been in vain, 
 and unheard ? No ; they have not been in vain 
 — they have all been heard, and are answered hour 
 by hour. He ‘‘puts your tears into His bottle. 
 Are they not in His BookM"” 
 
 “ He tells your flittings,’’ and He it is that has 
 so often, that does each moment that you are up- 
 held, “keep you from falling S'” It is by His 
 grace that you are kept so often ; and if you do 
 but “hold you fast by God V’ you will less and 
 less frequently slide. He will “ keep the door of 
 your lips V’ that they may not transgress against 
 Him. But have you not also prayed Him to 
 “ humble you, and prove you, and show you what 
 is in your heart ^ ?**’ And is not this the fulfilment 
 of your prayer ? You need to be shown some of 
 the evils of your heart. Do not then be out of 
 heart when you see them ; but ask Him, whenso- 
 
 ^ 2 Cor. X. 5. 
 
 Jude 24. 
 
 ® Ps. cxli. 3. 
 
 2 1 Pet. ii. 22. 
 
 2 Ps. Ivi. 8. 
 
 ^ Ps. Ixxiii. 27 . 
 7 Deut. viii. 2. 
 
IRRITABILITY, 
 
 141 
 
 ever He conducts you into the ‘‘ chambers of His 
 imagery V’ always to go there with you Himself, 
 lest you should be overwhelmed with the vision. 
 Be careful to look upon your irritable words as 
 spoken before God: ‘‘Against Thee, Thee only 
 have I sinned®;” otherwise the vexed feeling of 
 having done a wrong thing before a fellow-creature, 
 will but minister to your pride. 
 
 Do not be out of heart, and think that all your 
 efforts have been in vain. 
 
 Do not be fearful, and anxious about the future : 
 “ Humble yourself under the mighty hand of God, 
 and in due time He shall lift you up ; casting all 
 your care upon Him, for He careth for you b” 
 
 God knows the intensity of the suffering which 
 irritability causes, especially when it is produced 
 by the state of the nerves, or by great weakness. 
 
 A tone of voice which sounds almost fretful, 
 belongs, it is thought, to some states of illness. 
 Certain it is, that sick people very often indulge in 
 a fretful tone of voice, until it becomes quite habi- 
 tual ; and most certain it is, that it can be resisted 
 to a great extent, and can be almost, if not quite, 
 overcome. It is most important for the health, 
 both of mind and body, not to yield to it at all, but 
 to cultivate instead, a cheerful, calm, thankful tone. 
 At the same time it must be admitted, that there 
 are states of suffering which do affect the voice, 
 and even, in some cases, give it a sharpn(jss, which 
 is physical, and unavoidable ; but it is the habitual 
 tone that is here meant, and sick persons are apt 
 to' indulge in a tone, which they fancy belongs to 
 illness. As a general rule, if you find that your 
 voice has an unnatural tone, try earnestly to sub- 
 due it ; by this means you will soon discover whe- 
 ther it is under your control. 
 
 ® Ezek. viii. 12. ^ Ps. li. 4. 
 
 1 1 Pet. V. 6, 7. 
 
142 
 
 IMPATIENCE. 
 
 Discontent quickly betrays itself by the voice, 
 and countenance, and manner. Sick people should 
 not look upon themselves as privileged to indulge 
 in any wrong thing, whether by word or by deed. 
 Their state gives them no exemption from conflict, 
 rather they are set in the midst of it ; and also, 
 are set where they can see the more clearly what 
 is sinful, because they are in a position in which, if 
 they use it rightly, all gloss and excitement is re- 
 moved from themselves, and from all the objects 
 upon which they look. 
 
 III. 
 
 IMPATIENCE, 
 
 Perhaps impatience may manifest itself. It may 
 be impatience of contradiction, not bearing any 
 opposition to your will. You may desire some- 
 thing, perhaps, which may be very unreasonable, or 
 inconvenient, or even impossible. Would you wish 
 that your friends should treat you like a spoiled 
 child, and at all risks grant your desire ? Does it 
 not show more true kindness gently to oppose, or 
 even to deny you what you have asked ? Will you 
 not be grateful to them afterwards, for having been 
 the means of revealing to you your selfishness and 
 waywardness ? Or, you may have been impatient 
 because some one difered in opinion from you ; as 
 if there were no possibility of your being mistaken, 
 or of there being two points of view from which 
 the same thing may be seen. Sick persons who 
 live much alone are in great danger of falling into 
 this snare. They frequently live in a world of their 
 own, and have become so used to their own opi- 
 nions, and views, and pictures of all things, that 
 
CONSIDERING SYMPTOMS. 
 
 143 
 
 they forget that there can be any others, and are 
 perhaps perplexed and worried by them. But this 
 kind of isolation is very injurious to them, and they 
 should be thankful to hear differences of opinion. 
 Or, you may have let slip some impatient word or 
 phrase, which, at the moment, may scarcely strike 
 you as it may strike a bystander. “ How long you 
 are!*” ‘‘I wish you would make haste;” Do 
 bring that quickly are dangerous phrases to use. 
 Oftentimes they mean little or nothing. It is the 
 tone of voice which generally betrays what they 
 mean. Be thankful to any one who tells you that 
 it is a bad habit, and must minister to impatience 
 of heart. Keep thy heart with all diligence ; for 
 out of it are the issues of life A habit of re- 
 pressing such words is the greatest possible help 
 to overcoming the evil thing. 
 
 IV. 
 
 / 
 
 CONSIDERING SYMPTOMS. 
 
 Another temptation in weakness, and indeed in 
 all illness, is constantly to be considering symp- 
 toms, thinking what will be the result of each one. 
 Whether this or that is dangerous ? what it is a 
 symptom of? 
 
 Then, if the sick person is eagerly desiring to 
 die, the temptation is to consider whether it is the 
 symptom of a mortal disease. How long it may 
 last ? whether it proves that you are much worse, 
 or that death is near at hand ? 
 
 Or if you earnestly desire to recover your health, 
 then it is scanned the other way. Is not this a 
 good symptom ? Does it not show how much 
 
 2 Prov. iv. 23. 
 
144 
 
 CONSIDEUING SYMPTOMS. 
 
 better I am ? Does it not prove that I am really 
 recovering ? 
 
 Nothing deceives and disappoints more than 
 symptoms. We are poor judges of them, of what 
 they lead to, or are proofs of. In one person a 
 symptom may be very serious, which in another 
 may be quite the reverse. It may prove a con- 
 trary thing in opposite states and constitutions. 
 Therefore it is best to leave them to the Physician 
 to consider, and to turn away your minds from 
 every temptation to consider the results and pro- 
 babilities — to abstain from the common but inju- 
 rious habit of feeling your pulse, and trying to 
 make discoveries from its state. Just to take the 
 present moment as it is^ to look on its circum- 
 stances as the very best for us, because they are 
 those in which God has placed us, and which He 
 could and would change, if in any thing He saw 
 that other circumstances would be better for us. 
 Your present pain is His sending, each trial is 
 His sending ; do not say, ‘‘ Lord, we know not 
 whither Thou goest ® for His gracious answer 
 now and always is, “ What is that to thee ? follow 
 . thou MeV’ 
 
 ® John xiv. 5. 
 
 * John xxi. 22. 
 
PART III. 
 
 DUTIES AND EESPONSIBILITIES OF 
 SICKNESS. 
 
 I. 
 
 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 There are few things by which sick people are 
 more tempted than discontent ; there is no form, 
 perhaps, in which it does not offer itself to them — ■ 
 discontent with their lot, their circumstances, their 
 friends, their suffering, and all things that sur- 
 round them. It manifests itself either in com- 
 plainings, or murmurings, or dissatisfaction ; or 
 difficulty in being pleased; or in seeking to get 
 circumstances altered ; or in a state of utter 
 selfishness, which refuses to take an interest in 
 other people, and things beyond itself ; or in trying 
 to make out that one’s own case is the hardest, 
 and the most trying, the least perceived' by others ; 
 or in constantly calling the attention of others to 
 ourselves and our trials ; or in craving for sym- 
 pathy. All these things mark discontent. Often, 
 too, it speaks by the countenance and by the voice 
 — even the manner betrays it. Some people wish 
 that it should be seen ; they hope thus to get more 
 sympathy ; they take no pains to hide it. They like 
 those people who will listen to their complainings ; 
 
 L 
 
140 
 
 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 and all others they count hard-hearted. But is 
 there no sin in discontent ? Misery there surely is. 
 Discontented spirits are ever ‘‘seeking rest, but 
 finding nonek’’ In the society of others, they 
 crave for attention and sympathy. When they are 
 alone they turn inwardly upon themselves, wearied 
 and disappointed — more hopeless than ever : they 
 brood over their distresses, and never know the 
 blessing of peace. 
 
 There is but one remedy for it all. That remedy 
 lies within the reach of every sick person ; but 
 they must apply it for themselves, and must earn- 
 estly cry to God to give them the strength and the 
 courage, the patience and the perseverance, to 
 apply it faithfully and unweariedly. The remedy 
 is contentment ; but there are many ingredients 
 in it : 
 
 1 . To see and to believe that you are discontented. 
 
 2. To feel the greatness of the sin of discontent. 
 
 3. Not to allow yourself any excuses or pallia- 
 tions, e, ^., not to say, “ Perhaps I am rather dis- 
 contented sometimes, but then I have so much to 
 make me so,’’ 
 
 4. To hide nothing from yourself about it, but 
 to say, “ I am discontented.” 
 
 5. To consider it a constant duty to fight against 
 it ; beginning with some small thing, and that which 
 is the most obvious to yourself. 
 
 6. Remember that it is a holj/ war that you are 
 beginning — one which you cannot fight alone, and 
 for which you must daily, and earnestly, ask the 
 help of God. 
 
 7. Do not be out of heart if you make very slow 
 progress, and find the difficulties rather increase 
 than diminish. “ The battle is not yours, but 
 GoTs 
 
 ^ Matt. xii. 43. 
 
 2 2 Chron. xx. 15. 
 
CONTENTMENT. 
 
 147 
 
 Your friends have been far more patient with 
 you than you have given them credit for. You 
 have wearied their spirits very often ; they have 
 tried with earnest desire to please you, and to 
 make you happy ; and they could not. You have 
 complained of them ; and at length have, after 
 many hard thoughts of them, become estranged 
 from them in heart. No wonder you are unhappy ; 
 your state is a very painful one, and calls for true 
 pity. But have you asked yourself whether there 
 may not be something in you, which hinders you 
 from receiving what you crave for ? and which 
 seems to shut up, and shut out, the love of friends, 
 and leave you (as you suppose) a sad and isolated 
 being ? Y ou think your lot a hard one : perhaps 
 even unlike that of others. Who placed you in 
 that lot ? Is it not written that the lot is cast 
 into the lap; but the wdiole disposing thereof is 
 of the Lord ^ V Did you ever think that every por- 
 tion of your lot is under His control ? if so, have 
 you any right to reply against it ? 
 
 Again. Are there no crosses of which you 
 complain, that you have brought upon yourself? 
 Do you never say, or make it appear, that you 
 should like a thing to be done, or to have a thing, 
 and then complain afterwards of that very thing, 
 which you brought upon yourself, and say that it 
 tired or annoyed you ? If you can answer iVo, 
 happy are you ; but if your conscience must an- 
 swer that it is true, then the result shows discon- 
 tent, and unwillingness to be satisfied. 
 
 Again. Do you never go on complaining to every 
 one that you meet with, or whom you confide in, 
 until your whole mind is full of your grievances, 
 and you can think of nothing else, when you are 
 alone ; and even your very prayers are complain- 
 
 ^ Prov. xvi. 33. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 
 
 CONTENTMENT. 
 
 ings — perhaps often rather of others than of your- 
 self? Truly this is one of the surest indications of 
 a discontented heart. 
 
 Do you never, when you are alone, think of all 
 the aggravations of your lot ; of all the things that 
 might be otherwise ; of the characters of your 
 friends, and even of your nearest relations; until 
 you take an entirely exaggerated view of every one, 
 and of every circumstance ; and afterwards really, 
 though perhaps unintentionally, represent things 
 to yourself, and to others, quite untruly— giving a 
 false gloss and unreal colouring to the whole ? 
 
 A faithful and sincere answer to these questions 
 will teach you how truly to reply to the ques- 
 tion, — Is there no sin in discontent? Are not the 
 sins .threefold : — 1. Sin towards God. 2. Sin to- 
 w^ards your neighbour. 3. Sin towards yourself? 
 
 1. Sin towards God. 
 
 He has placed you where you are. He has 
 chosen for you your friends, your home, your 
 trials, your blessings, your pains, your pleasures, 
 and every thing that belongs to your lot. He has 
 chosen them because they are the best for you — 
 those which will the most surely and quickly per- 
 fect you, and liken you to Himself. He could 
 change them in one moment, but thereby He 
 would not prove His love. 
 
 2. Sin against your neighbour. 
 
 Your discontent has given you hard thoughts 
 of him, has hindered you from love ; at least from 
 any thing but that kind of love, which selects 
 a few to care for, who meet your wishes, and then 
 rejects the rest. Read 1 Oor. xiii., and try your- 
 self by it. 
 
 3. Sin against yourself. 
 
 You have, by discontent, shut yourself out from 
 the enjoyment of all the blessings, and helps, and 
 
CONTENTMENT. 
 
 149 
 
 comforts, with which God has surrounded you ; 
 you have hindered yourself from peace, and rest, 
 and quietness, and have isolated yourself. If your 
 sight had been cleansed, you would have seen 
 bright and blessed things around you, things to be 
 thankful for, and to rejoice in. If your ears had 
 not been stopped, you would have heard loving 
 voices, and they would have touched your heart, 
 and made it to rejoice and sing. In all these 
 things you have sinned against faith, hope, and 
 charity. You have not trusted God, you have 
 not ‘‘ hoped all things, believed all things, en- 
 dured all things or persevered in loving, though 
 you fancied that no love was bestowed upon you. 
 This would have been the ‘‘ fulfilment of the 
 law and would surely have brought you a 
 blessing. 
 
 It is not too late to “ begin to lead a new life.'*" 
 Do not say that it is impossible. The God of 
 hope’’ can give you hope to enter on your way. 
 The “ God of love” will lead you on, step by step, 
 until you are “ changed into the same image ®.” 
 Only be in earnest. Let your purpose be fixed 
 and stedfast. Do not shrink at little things. 
 First, ask God to show you the sin^ what a real 
 thing it is. You never can be in earnest until 
 you have done this ; ask not once only, but again 
 and again ; and do not leave off asking, even when 
 you fancy that you are improving. Then, begin 
 with some one thing ; resolve, perhaps, that on 
 one subject you will never complain ; or if, as 
 most likely will be the case, you forget your reso- 
 lution ; then truly confess it before God, and 
 humbly ask His forgiveness. Next, either in this 
 thing or some other, try to find some bright spot, 
 something to be satisfied with, and even to be 
 
 ^ 1 Cor. xiii. 7. s Rom. xili. 10. <5 2 Cor. iii. 18. 
 
150 
 
 CONTENTxMENT. 
 
 thankful for. Go on by degrees, as your spirit 
 grows stronger, to add to the subjects on which 
 YOU abstain from murmuring, and those for which 
 you can be thankful. 
 
 Thus, by degrees, your heart, which was dark 
 and drear, will become bright and happy. The 
 discontented thoughts about your friends will 
 change into wonder at their love and kindness, 
 until your heart seems to expand and glow, and 
 your spirit to rejoice. All the world will change 
 its aspect. You will wonder why the eyes of your 
 mind were formerly so blind, and your heart so cold 
 and loveless. 
 
 This is no ideal picture, but true to the letter. 
 Only try whether it is genuine, try to make it 
 your own. Then you, who now go forth weeping, 
 shall doubtless come again rejoicing, bringing your 
 sheaves^*’*’ with you. 
 
 ‘‘ Godliness with contentment is great gain®.**’ 
 It does not say merely '‘^godliness is great gain."’ 
 May not this account for the fact, that many 
 so-called godly persons are so discontented ? The 
 Scriptures tell us, ‘‘ having food and raiment 
 therewith to be content^.” How have, we obeyed 
 this command ? And again, another Scripture 
 says, ‘‘ Thou shalt not covet and Let your 
 conversation be without covetousness*.” Is not 
 discontent with any portion of our lot nearly allied 
 to covetousness ‘’Covetousness, which is idol- 
 atry^;” it may be idolatry of self, or any other 
 form of idolatry. “ Seekest thou great things for 
 thyself? seek them not*.” “Give us this day our 
 daily bread 
 
 If in any thing you are discontented with your 
 
 ^ Ps. cxxvi. 6. 
 
 ^ Exod. XX. 17. 
 
 ^ 1 Tim. vi. 8. 
 3 Col. iii. 5. 
 
 ^ Jer. xlv. 5, 
 
 ® Matt. vi. 11. 
 
 3 1 Tim. vi. 6. 
 3 Heb. xiii, 5. 
 
CONTENTMENT. J 51 
 
 lot ; in that thing be sure you are finding fault 
 with the will of God, and doubting of His love. 
 If this be so, 0 how have we sinned ! how do we 
 daily sin ! truly thus we have “ grieved the Holy 
 Spirit 
 
 Let us seek earnestly for contentment. It is 
 the best thing we can do, to show our gratitude 
 to Him for His gifts — for ‘‘ He has given us 
 richly all things to enjoy Contentment is per- 
 fect rest and perfect peace ; it asks for nothing ; 
 seeks for nothing ; hopes for nothing ; wishes 
 nothing but what God gives. It ceases to look 
 about and see how its condition can be bettered : 
 knowing that what God wills, that must be per- 
 fection. Contentment does not ask to see the 
 reason why God does this or that, or why He 
 withholds things which look like blessings ; with 
 open hands it receives all His good gifts, and 
 thanks Him for His love and care ; it does not 
 look onwards, knowing that God will provide ; it 
 has no wants, no cares, but to know Him more, 
 and to love Him better. This state is the duty of 
 all, and especially of those who are called by sick- 
 ness to constant temptations to sins against con- 
 tentment. God would not make any thing to be 
 our duty, unless it were possible of attainment — 
 unless it would be for our highest good — ^unless 
 He would give us the strength to perform what 
 He requires of us. Therefore let us never rest 
 until we truly know what contentment means, 
 and are seeking to learn to say, — Lord, I am 
 not high-minded ; I have no proud looks ; I do 
 not exercise myself in great matters, which are 
 too high for me. But I refrain my soul, and keep 
 it low, like as a child that is weaned from his 
 mother : yea, my soul is even as a weaned child. 
 
 6 Eph. iv. 30. 7 1 Tim. vi. 17. 
 
152 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 0 Israel, trust in the Lord, from this time forth 
 for evermore*.’’ “For with the Lord there is 
 mercy ; and with Him there is plenteous redemp- 
 tion. And He shall redeem Israel from all his 
 sins 
 
 11 . 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 Sympathy should especially be wrought out in us 
 by sickness. No sick persons have truly under- 
 stood the lesson that it was designed to teach 
 them, until they have learned this truth. They 
 may deeply feel their deficiencies, for “ we are 
 all by nature hard and unsympathizing.” We are 
 very slow to learn true sympathy. It is very easy 
 to sympathize with some persons who suit our 
 tastes ; and with such trials as are exactly like 
 our own. But this is but a form of self-love and 
 selfishness. In sympathizing with them, we seem, 
 as it were, to sympathize with ourselves ; we never 
 forget their relation to us; thoughts of self run 
 through the whole. Sickness, wrongly received, 
 increases, selfishness to the highest degree. Sick- 
 ness, rightly received, does, by degree? cast out 
 the “unclean spirit” whose name is ‘ Legion h” 
 Sympathy is not natural to us : it can only be 
 given to us by our sympathizing High Priest ; but 
 as He was “perfected through suffering so He 
 perfecteth us. Do not say, with sorrow of heart, 
 — “ Alas, I have no sympathy ; my besetting sin 
 has been to sympathize only with a few ; from 
 the many I have always had a temptation to turn 
 
 9 Ps. CXXX. 7, 8. 
 
 2 Heb. ii. 10. 
 
 ^ Ps. cxxxi, 
 ^ Mark v. 9. 
 
SYMPATHY. 
 
 153 
 
 away, which I have but too little resisted ; there is 
 something in that person's manner which I cannot 
 draw towards — we seem to have few, if any, points 
 in common." Show sympathy, if you would re- 
 ceive it ; create the atmosphere, and you will 
 inhale it also. 
 
 Sympathy is not a natural gift ; though a few 
 natures may be so endowed with it, as to shadow 
 forth the full reality ; which can only be obtained 
 by living with Him who is perfect sympathy, and 
 deeply drinking of that well of life, that flows from 
 His pierced side. It is all in vain to seek for the 
 .gift in ourselves, it is not there. We must go 
 out of ourselves for it ; and the surest way to get 
 it, is to feel that w’e are utterly without it ; thus 
 we are driven to ask it of Him who giveth to all 
 men liberally, and upbraideth not 
 
 The way to get increase of sympathy is to seek 
 for increase of charity. The essence of sympa- 
 thy is charity." No one without true charity can 
 have godly sympathy. He who was perfect love 
 had perfect sympathy. The more we are con- 
 formed to the image of perfect love, the more we 
 really understand, and seek to practise, St. Paul's 
 description of charity^, the truer, and the more 
 abiding, and the deeper will be our sympathy. 
 
 But this is not a gift, which once obtained will 
 never fail, or become less ; it is only by dwelling 
 in the God of love and of sympathy, that we can 
 shadow forth His love and His sympathy. It 
 must be daily and hourly renewed, and flow into 
 our hearts straight from Him. 
 
 If we are convinced that we do not understand 
 the wants or the trials of another, we shall ask 
 Him to interpret them to us, or else to give us the 
 
 ^ James i. 5. ^ j xiii. 
 
154 
 
 SYMPATHY:. 
 
 words to speak, making us merely the channels of 
 His grace. 
 
 There is another sense in which it may be culti- 
 vated. We may constantly exercise ourselves in 
 it, not refusing it to any one. We may resolve at 
 all times to show interest in other people ; they 
 may come and tell us things which seem to us 
 mere trifles. We may be tempted to turn aside 
 at once, or to say that they are trifles ; but bear 
 in mind that nothing is a trifle which either tries 
 another person or affects their welfare ; and also, 
 that if we treat this thing lightly, they may be 
 thrown back, and not expecting to receive sym- 
 pathy for some greater thing, withhold that also 
 from us, and so, from the want of that little act of 
 self-denial of ours, we may have prevented our- 
 selves from the delight and blessing of helping 
 them, when we gladly would have done so. Sick 
 people should give every one with whom they 
 meet, cause to feel that in any trouble, great or 
 small, they will always find ready sympathy and 
 a kind reception ; never be turned away ; but 
 meet with the greatest kindness, and consideration, 
 and encouragement. 
 
 To do this requires continued self-denial both 
 for the body and the mind. You may be par- 
 ticularly engaged ; but try to avoid showing that 
 you have been interrupted, or that it is an in- 
 convenience or annoyance to you. You may be 
 trying to rest, but if a real demand for sympathy 
 or help comes, do not refuse to meet it. You may 
 be feeling peculiarly worn out in body and in 
 spirit, but ‘‘ consider Him ” who said, when He 
 was weary and hungry, My meat is to do the 
 will of Him that sent me Already you may 
 
 ^ John iv. 34. 
 
SYMPATHY, 
 
 155 
 
 have been feeling worn out, and are vainly seeking 
 after that quietness and calmness of spirit which 
 has been taken from you by the continued strain. 
 You seem to have been attending to the claims 
 of others all the day ; you have just lain down to 
 rest, and rejoiced in the comfort. Some new call 
 comes. If it clearly is a call^ do not shrink from 
 it, but give ready, tender, and loving sympathy. 
 You will be rewarded for your self-denial, if not 
 now, at least another day, when all those acts 
 which you may have long since forgotten will meet 
 you again; when every tear of true compassion 
 that you have shed will be remembered by Him 
 who has bid you “ weep with them that weep ® 
 when every smile by which you have cheered an- 
 other, every loving word, every sympathizing look, 
 or even pressure of the hand, which touched a 
 mourner’s heart, will be remembered ; when joy 
 will meet you for every time that you have “ re- 
 joiced with them that do rejoice or have glad- 
 dened one heart, by your glowing or hearty parti- 
 cipation in what has gladdened them. 
 
 0 yes, it shall be so, because to show sympathy 
 is to walk in the blessed steps of Christ’s most 
 holy life ! ” The tears which He shed on earth 
 are earnests and types of those which He sheds 
 with us day by day. He w’ould not have bidden 
 us to “ weep with them that weep,” unless He had 
 set us the example. We never weep, even in 
 spirit, but He weeps with us. Be thankful, then, 
 if He calls you thus to walk with Him. Often- 
 times the effort will be very great. You feel that 
 your room is made the focus where all the troubles 
 of the house meet. Sometimes it is very wearying 
 to you ; you are tempted to wish it otherwise — to 
 think, why should you have these additions to 
 ® Rom. xii. 15. 
 
156 
 
 SYMPATHY. 
 
 your burdens ? Nay, rather rejoice that you are 
 permitted to follow in His steps who never turned 
 any away ; who when He was on earth called His 
 disciples to come apart into a desert place and 
 rest awhile ; for there were many coming and 
 going, and they had no leisure so much as to 
 eat^’” And yet, when the people saw Him, and 
 followed Him, instead of turning them away be- 
 cause He and His disciples wanted rest, “ He was 
 moved with compassion towards them, because 
 they were as sheep having no shepherd, and He 
 began to teach them many things.’’ Nor did 
 He merely teach them, but He fed them also ; 
 He cared for their bodies as well as their souls — 
 ‘‘ Go thou and do likewise®.” 
 
 Remember, too, that there is encouragement in 
 the fact of your friends bringing their little 
 troubles and vexations to you. It is not the mere 
 fact of your being a fixed spot in the house, and 
 always to be found, whoever is not^ that causes 
 them to do so ; they would not continue to bring 
 them, if they found no sympathy from you, no 
 understanding of their wants. Rejoice then, to 
 be made like unto your Lord and Master, for 
 though you cannot go “about doing good,” you 
 can lie still, and let your friends come to you that 
 you may do them good. 
 
 Do not fancy that you ought to show sympathy 
 in all great trials and troubles, and in all spiritual 
 things, but not in things temporal. ^ Let your sym- 
 pathy be universal. You may be asked to decide 
 between two colours ; to choose some article of 
 dress; to look at some book which does not in- 
 terest you ; the manner of your doing so may, for 
 aught you know, affect the whole life of the person 
 who asks you this thing. They may be struck 
 1 Mark vi. 31. « Luke x. 37. 
 
PATIENCE. 
 
 157 
 
 with the readiness of your sympathy in a ♦trifle 
 which could not really interest you ; it may draw 
 them to you, make them feel, when hereafter some 
 heavy sorrow arises, that you, at least, could sym- 
 pathize with them ; thus they may turn to you, 
 and then you may be permitted to have a real deep 
 object of sympathy with them. Try also to cul- 
 tivate a sympathizing manner ; let there be sympa- 
 thy in your voice, your tone, your manner; let 
 nothing contradict your words ; kind words may 
 be said often without it, but they fail to go to the 
 heart. But a word said with real tenderness and 
 feeling may heal and soothe to a degree that we 
 can never estimate in this life. This kind of dis- 
 cipline is a wonderful cure for that exactingness of 
 spirit by which so many, and especially sick per- 
 sons, are injured and distressed, but find it hard 
 to overcome in themselves. Never exact sympathy 
 from others. ‘‘Give full measure, pressed down®,” 
 and you will surely “receive it again into your 
 own bosom,” in far greater measure than you ever 
 gave it ; if not from those to whom you gave it ; if 
 not even from any friends on earth ; yet He who 
 has said, “ Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the 
 least of these my brethren, ye did it unto Me V’ 
 will give you a deeper and deeper knowledge and 
 realization of His own sympathy, which “passeth 
 knowledge.” 
 
 III. 
 
 PATIENCE. 
 
 A SICK person does indeed need to have patience, 
 and that of many kinds. Patience in bearing pain. 
 Patience in bearing all the privations of sickness, 
 
 ® Luke vi. 38. ^ Matt. xxv. 45. 
 
158 
 
 PATIENCE. 
 
 and all its many and accumulated trials. Patience 
 to bear with those around him, their sins, negli- 
 gences, and ignorances,” their misunderstandings, 
 and obtuseness. Patience to bear with the cir- 
 cumstances of life, and his own peculiar lot. Pa- 
 tience to wait the “ appointed time until his change 
 come 
 
 It is indeed true, ‘‘ye have need of patience®.” 
 The need seems to grow sorer and sorer as time 
 goes on. At times the difficulty of being patient 
 may seem greatly lessened ; but then, again, it will 
 soon become as difficult as ever. At times, all the 
 causes for impatience seem to gather strength. 
 The nerves seem wholly unstrung. Every thing 
 tells on the sufferer. He sees cause for impatience 
 where he never did before ; he feels utterly with- 
 out patience, and as if the words applied to him, 
 
 W oe to him that hath lost patience Sometimes 
 this loss of patience is very sudden ; you may seem 
 even to yourself quite patient and quiet, when sud- 
 denly a fierce temptation to impatience may come, 
 and take you quite unprepared. The impulse is 
 momentary, but the suffering involved in over- 
 coming it, and the sorrow of heart that you have 
 been betrayed into sin, will long abide with you, 
 and take from you your confidence. You will feel 
 as if it were a hopeless thing to expect ever to 
 become habitually patient, resting in patience. 
 
 Perhaps in this case, as with sympathy, we are 
 apt to look on patience as a natural gift, a thing 
 belonging to some characters, whilst others are 
 wholly without it. We speak of one and another 
 having a patient disposition. Some certainly have 
 more natural patience than others; but it is no- 
 thing that will stand them in time of need, or of 
 sore conflict. Then it will be found that “ the bed 
 
 2 Job xiv. 14. ® Heb. x. 36. ^ Ecclus. ik 14. 
 
PATIENCE 
 
 159 
 
 is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on 
 it : the covering is narrower than that he can 
 wrap himself in it^” It will stand no such test. 
 In a short illness, the calls for patience are com- 
 paratively few v it is when the weary days pass on, 
 one after another, bringing their own petty trials, 
 all unseen by the bystanders, that its full need is 
 felt. Then they who have been accounted or who 
 have counted themselves patient, feel what a false 
 name they have had, what a false thing they have 
 been living on; all the gloss is gone, they see 
 themselves ‘‘ naked, and miserable, and poor, and 
 blind ®.” ' Time was, when you may have wondered 
 why the Church prayed for all sufferers, that “ they 
 may have patience under their sufferings.” You 
 may have thought that comfort was the better and 
 the more necessary thing to ask for them. Now, 
 you feel what wonderful knowledge of your need 
 has been shown in that prayer. It is not comfort 
 that you crave for now, though very thankful to 
 receive it, when your Father sees fit to give it ; but, 
 patience you must have, or you cannot go on your 
 weary way for an hour. 0 ! how you sometimes 
 feel smitten and ashamed when some friend speaks 
 of your patience : your patience ! — you who feel a 
 continual conflict with impatience ; whose life is one 
 struggle with it ; who seem to yourself failing ever ; 
 whose tears and remorse could often witness how 
 little you think that you have patience ; who groan 
 before “ the Cod of patience beseeching Him 
 to make you like-minded with Himself. At times 
 you almost think that they are mocking you, and 
 are inclined to be angry. But there is encourage- 
 ment in the words, for deeply as you may have 
 been conscious of the inward conflict, you have 
 reason to believe, if they are truthful and sincere 
 
 ® Isa. xxviii. 20. ® Rev. iii. 17. ^ Rom. xv. 5. 
 
160 
 
 PATIENCE. 
 
 friends, that your struggle has, by the grace of 
 God, been hidden from all eyes but His, and that 
 you have not been permitted to let it break out 
 into deed or word ; and so you may ‘‘thank God 
 and take courage 
 
 It happens the more frequently that the long dis- 
 cipline of sickness and suffering is given to impe- 
 tuous, and impatient, or over-active, spirits. To 
 them, of course, their natural impatience must be 
 as constant fuel to the fire which ever burns within 
 them, and their discipline will be a very sore one to 
 themselves. Yet fear not, if thus it is with you, 
 “greater is He that is for you, than all they that 
 are against- you,’’ “ the battle is not yours, but 
 God’s ® and you “ shall be more than conquerors 
 through Him that hath loved us “ Tribulation 
 worketh patience A quiet, calm frame of mind, 
 ever staying itself on God, is the groundwork of 
 patience ; in “ quietness and confidence shall be your 
 strength ® which also is expressed by the words 
 “in patience possess ye your souls Stillness 
 works patience ; we must first get into the posture 
 before we can stay in it. What is patience but 
 remaining in the posture of stillness? You will 
 say, “How difficult this is!” Ah, yes, it is in- 
 deed ; may we not rather say that it is impossible ? 
 It would be so, if it were not that the God of 
 Patience is our refuge, and therefore we need “ not 
 fear in the days of evil 
 
 We have no patience; let us settle that in our 
 minds : and then we shall feel that we must seek 
 somewhere the thing which we so absolutely need. 
 We have not far to go, for “ He is not far from 
 every one of us ®,” who is “ the God of patience.” 
 
 ® Acts xxviii. 15. ^ 2 Chron. xx. 15. ^ Rom. viii. 37. 
 
 2 Rom. V. 3. ^ Isa. xxx. 15. ^ Luke xxi. 19. 
 
 5 Ps. xlix. 5. ® Acts xvii. 27. 
 
PATIENCE. 
 
 16 ] 
 
 We need not ask Him to give it to us, for even 
 His own best gifts would soon perish in our keep- 
 ing. Besides, we should soon grow vain of it, if 
 we thought that the patience was our own, and the 
 offspring of our own hearts. Let us rather ask 
 Him to unite us more and more to Himself : to 
 enable us so to dwell in Him, that we shall live in 
 Him, walk in Him, act in Him. So to dwell in 
 Him, that we shall never do any thing alone. So 
 to dwell in Him, that we shall always feel His 
 strength supporting and upholding us, — that w^e 
 are in His arms, and may rest there with all our 
 weight. So to dwell in Him, that we shall always 
 ask Him to be with us, and in us, when we speak ; 
 and never to suffer us to be so hurried in ourselves, 
 that we shall not feel leisure and quietness to turn 
 to Him. There is no other cure for impatience : 
 but there are helps to the cure. 
 
 1. When you feel impatient, if it be possible do 
 not speak ; for if you do, the words which you say 
 will give you great sorrow^ and conflict afterwards. 
 
 2. If it be necessary to speak, commend your- 
 self first to God ; “ 0 God, make speed to save 
 us or, “ 0 Lord, make haste to help us 
 
 ‘‘ Lord, save me Lord, help me.*” Any words 
 will do, only let them be an act of commending 
 yourself to God ; and then be strong and fear not, 
 speak what is necessary. 
 
 tf. Do not torment yourself about it, and be con- 
 stantly fancying that you are impatient ; it v\ ill 
 but make you more so ; and do not accuse your- 
 self of the sin in an exaggerating manner. 
 
 4. When you have shown impatience to any one, 
 whether to a friend or to a servant, acknowledge 
 it, and distinctly say that you know you did it, that 
 you were wrong, and are sorry for it ; say it briefly, 
 and do not try to excuse yourself. It is a most 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 PATIENCE. 
 
 useful habit, and a real humiliation if practised 
 aright, especially when the' person is a nurse or a 
 servant. It is the only restitution that you can 
 make to them ; and the example will be a blessing 
 to them, and will show them also what your feeling 
 of the sin is, and that you do not sin recklessly, 
 or without true repentance. 
 
 5. Observe what things cost you the most im- 
 patience. If possible avoid those things ; but if 
 not, if they come in your daily lot, then specially 
 watch those weak points, and be on your guard at 
 all times against them. If any person particularly 
 excites it, be especially on the watch when they 
 are with you ; if you know that they are coming, 
 ask God to be with you, and to strengthen your 
 heart ; if not, then look up to Him at the time for 
 help. 
 
 6. Do not expect to be exempt from it ; you 
 cannot be, whilst you are weak. No strange 
 thing hath happened to you, but that which is 
 common to men and God will “ make a way 
 for your escape, that you may be able to bear it.^ 
 
 7. Remember that though sickness is an especial 
 opportunity for the exercise of patience, it is that 
 state in which all the deepest impatience of your 
 nature is stirred up, and is often greatly aggra- 
 vated by medicine. 
 
 After all, the great remedy is to consider Him 
 who endured contradiction of sinners against Him- 
 self, lest you be wearied and faint in your mind ; 
 for ye have not yet resisted unto blood, striving 
 against sin “ Our light affliction, which is but 
 for a moment, worketh out for us a far more ex- 
 ceeding, even an eternal weight of glory 
 
 What more do we need? what more would we 
 ask ? Now these trials scarcely seem ‘‘ light afflic- 
 7 1 Cor. X. 13. 8 Heb. xii. 3, 4. » 2 Cor. iv. 17. 
 
PATIENCE. 
 
 163 
 
 tions,"’ but they only do not seem so, because we 
 look at them alone^ at “ the things which are seen 
 and temporal b” Let us but look more constantly 
 at those ‘‘things which are unseen and eternal, 
 and these present things will change their aspect. 
 Let us bear patiently even the great trial of our 
 own impatience, if it does but so reveal sin to us, 
 that we shall be enabled in the strength of God to 
 overcome it ; if it does but make us to hang upon 
 Him, and learn that “ without Him we can do 
 nothing b’’ “A little while,’’ and the temptations 
 and provocations to impatience will all be ended. 
 Let us bear them now, whilst God lays these 
 crosses upon us. Let Him take His own way of 
 humbling us, which is sometimes to permit us to 
 sin before, and against others, that we may learn 
 how weak we are, and that there is no safety for 
 us but dwelling in the ‘‘ God of patience.” Thus 
 shall we be “ strengthened with all might, accord- 
 ing to His glorious power, unto all patience and 
 long-suffering with joyfulness Let us pray Him 
 to enable us to show “ a quiet and composed pa- 
 tience, without tumult of troubled thoughts and 
 discontented passions ; a submissive and resigned 
 patience, without reluctance, to His will, or rebel- 
 lio‘us murmurings : a patience of hope that does 
 not sink under our burdens, nor is driven by the 
 smart of pains to mistrust His love, or care, or 
 gracious promises : and a thankful patience, that 
 continues sensible of our comforts and supports, as 
 well as of our sicknesses ; and that owns all present 
 sufferings to be far below our deserts, and all past 
 and present mercies to be infinitely above them. 
 And make us perfect, 0 our Father ! in this 
 patience. Let us tarry Thy leisure, and not be 
 hasty. Let us wait on Thee, and not grow weary : 
 
 ^ 2 Cor. iv. 18. ^ John xv. 5. ® Col. i. 11. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 SUBMISSION. 
 
 but bear all in comfortable hopes of Thy strength 
 to support our present weakness ; and of Thy 
 mercy to ease and deliver us at last, either by a 
 more healthful life, or by a happy death, through 
 the mediation of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."’ 
 
 IV. 
 
 SUBMISSION. 
 
 They who have truly learned patience, have been 
 learning submission at the same time. But there 
 is a difference between patience and submission. 
 Patience is lying in a still posture before God, 
 waiting His commands and His time ; patience is 
 the refraining from all efforts, and vehemence, and 
 eagerness — every thing that would go between, or 
 outrun, the leadings of God. 
 
 But submission is the actual surrender of our- 
 selves, our bodies, souls and spirits, our wills,' into 
 the hands of God ; the giving up all ; the practical 
 saying of the heart and actions, that He knows 
 better than we do ; that He chooses better for us ; 
 that we yield all to Him, and are pleased with 
 what pleases Him. Submission is of very slow 
 growth ; it wholly opposes and resists nature. 
 VVe have strong wills of our own, and they strive 
 fiercely with the will of God. Even our very- 
 prayers are the expressions of our self-will ; if we 
 do not dare to say the words, yet do they not 
 often mean my will be done ? 0 how vehemently 
 
 we pray that this or that thing may be given to 
 us, which if it were granted, would make us miser- 
 able for the rest of our lives! You have asked 
 for some special gift, and instead of its being 
 given, you have had the very opposite. You have 
 
SUBMISSION. 
 
 ] 65 
 
 asked for work — active work for the glory of God ; 
 and the answer to your prayer has been this life- 
 long sickness. You have asked for patience ; and 
 a sickness has been sent, which peculiarly brings 
 out your impatience. Every thing that you have 
 asked seems answered by contraries. You have 
 been almost tempted to cease from making any 
 requests, for none, it seems to you, are granted. 
 You say, that if you had asked for bright things 
 and worldly gifts, you could have understood it ; 
 but for these things your heart did not crave. And 
 then what chafing of spirit follows ! Every thing 
 frets you ; you cannot understand it ; you were 
 not always so rebellious, you think ; you did not 
 always dislike the ways of God ; you thought that 
 you had truly given up yourself to Him. You 
 were not mistaken. It is just because you had 
 given yourself up to Him, that He answers you 
 thus ; for He has taken you to be His own, and 
 He will have you, wholly, entirely, without any re- 
 servations, ‘‘for richer for poorer; for better for 
 worse.’’ You have offered yourself to Him, and 
 now you must accept His terms. He will have no 
 rival, for “ He is a jealous God He says, “ My 
 son, give me thy heart® and if you do give it. 
 He will have the whole, undivided heart. “ The 
 idols He will utterly abolish He will “ cast them 
 to the moles and the bats."’ Do not wonder, then, 
 to see them cast out : do not wonder if He “ takes 
 a scourge of small cords, and drives them out V’ 
 that your heart may be a fit dwelling-place for 
 Himself; a “temple of the Holy Ghost*;” the 
 “ habitation of God through the Spirit It will 
 need great purging and refining, and the process 
 will be very long. Yet thus it must be, if you 
 
 ^ Exod. XX. 5. 
 7 John ii. 15. 
 
 6 Isa. ii. 18. 20. 
 9 Eph. ii. 22. 
 
 ^ Prov. xxiii. 2G. 
 ® 1 Cor. vi. 19. 
 
166 
 
 SUBMISSION. 
 
 would attain to true submission. At first, it is all 
 struggle — one unceasing fight ; a perpetual sense 
 of strife — of having your will at variance with His ; 
 then, by degrees, it becomes less and less so. 
 Again, your ovvn will is seeming to gain the mas- 
 tery ; a fiercer struggle follows. ‘‘Alas!’’ you 
 say, “ will it ever be thus ?” No, surely it will not. 
 You may wrestle until all your powers are out of 
 joint, and your sinews are shrinking. Go on ; 
 wrestle till break of day ; the morning will dawn 
 soon ; He who fights in you will prevail. In the 
 utmost sense of your weakness, you will resign 
 yourself to Him ; and from thenceforth there will 
 be more of His will in you than of your own — at 
 least, you will love it better, and grow in love to it 
 day by day, until at last you will shrink from all 
 choices, feeling that He knows what is best for 
 you, and that you know nothing. Then you will 
 find, that in yielding to His will, there is always 
 rest, and, sooner or later, pleasure too ; and so you 
 will rather yield to Him, though in darkness, than 
 choose or act for yourself, in what seems clear 
 light ; for you will have learned that “ God is 
 light, and in Him is no darkness at all ^ and 
 that you are in yourself utter darkness, only having 
 light when you walk in “ the Light.” 
 
 Do not, however, think it is all done, and the 
 conflict ended. Your choice is taken, and in that 
 you will have no change — the real bias of your 
 will is towards Him; but the “changes and 
 chances of this mortal life ” will affect you, whilst 
 you are here below. You may get quite used to 
 one set of circumstances, whilst another set may 
 come, and try you very much, and renew your 
 conflict. It may be that the change, to outward 
 observers, may seem a pleasant one ; they may be 
 
 1 1 John i. 5. 
 
SUBMISSION. 
 
 167 
 
 frequent in their congratulations upon it ; whilst 
 to you it may be a very trying one. They cannot 
 understand it ; they think you strange, unac- 
 countable, ungrateful ; you cannot explain it satis- 
 factorily, and you had generally better not try. 
 They could not understand that all changes, even 
 for the better, are trying to most sick people ; 
 though some crave for them incessantly, and will 
 not be satisfied without them. It may seem whim- 
 sical in you, and yet, perhaps, it may involve many 
 trying efforts to you, or you may have new asso- 
 ciations to form ; new trials to get used to ; new 
 circumstances to adapt yourself to ; eventually 
 they may be pleasanter, but they are all new^ and 
 therefore trying. Instead of receiving any of the 
 sympathy which you naturally expect, you are 
 thought fitful and wayward. 
 
 Sometimes, too, you get a great deal of sym- 
 pathy about something which is comparatively 
 a trifle, which you really do not think much of, 
 because at the same time there is some very trying 
 thing which is wholly passed by unnoticed by all 
 your friends — yet it is eating at your very heart’s 
 core. You find this an especial trial ; this in- 
 equality of sympathy and commiseration, which is 
 without any seeming adaptation to your case. 
 This is a peculiar exercise of submission, because 
 it involves your receiving the offered sympathy — 
 for which there seems to you scarcely a call — 
 thankfully and cheerfully, and the going without 
 the sympathy which you feel is so really called for, 
 and for which your spirit craves. 
 
 Fear not ; the more your trials are unknown 
 and unnoticed, the more entirely may they be 
 borne for and unto God ; and if you offer them 
 all up to Him, you will have His sympathy as you 
 never could have had it, if the human sympathy 
 
168 
 
 SUBMISSION. 
 
 had intervened. He will ‘‘ accept the whole burnt 
 offering, and give thee all the desire of thy heart 
 Offer up your will to God in this, as in all things, 
 and you “shall in no wise lose your reward®.^’ 
 “ Submit yourself therefore unto God He has 
 many ways of teaching submission. Often when 
 you are lying in a state almost of lethargy, of 
 mere languor, quite unutterable, there is much 
 passing between God and your soul. Or rather, 
 “ He is working all His works in"’ you, for you 
 are lying still, scarcely conscious of any thing but 
 of extreme exhaustion, and all its attendant suf- 
 fering. But He is bowing your will. He is teach- 
 ing you how to yield yourself up to Him; He is 
 teaching you the utmost of your weakness, that 
 you may learn what is meant by “ everlasting 
 strength*.” He is giving you the very trying 
 discipline of nothingness, that you may learn what 
 you really are in His sight. He Himself is crush- 
 ing you, therefore fear not ; for “ He will not 
 break the bruised reed. He will not quench the 
 smoking flax®.” He will not lay His hand upon 
 you more heavily than is necessary in healing all 
 the wounds of your soul. 
 
 The greatest help to submission is to receive 
 every thing straight from God. Do not look at 
 second causes, never suffer yourself to do that; 
 do not look back to the beginning of your illness, 
 and think how it first came on ; how it might, 
 perhaps, have been avoided ; how it might have 
 been removed in its early stage ; how circum- 
 stances have aggravated it ; and do so still. You 
 have nothing to do with these things. God sent 
 you your illness at first. God permitted the over- 
 sight of your friends, if you perceive any. God 
 
 ^ Ps. XX. 3. 3 X. 42. * James iv. 7» 
 
 ^ Isa. xxvi. 3. ® Matt. xii. 20. 
 
SUBMISSION. 
 
 169 
 
 placed you where you now are, and' exactly in the 
 very circumstances that you find yourself. What- 
 ever you find fault with, you are but “ replying 
 against God, and finding fault with His wilF."’ 
 Bear this always in mind ; never let it slip. When 
 you are tempted afresh to murmur at some little 
 circumstance, say. Who appointed this? Could 
 not God have prevented this if He had not seen 
 that it was necessary for you ? Then answer, God 
 sent it; it is the will of God. Do not say. All 
 this is very true in great things, but how can it be 
 true in little things ? and they are the hardest ' to 
 meet with submission. Can any thing which con- 
 cerns you be a little thing ? Can any thing which 
 stirs up evil in you, or tempts you, be a little thing? 
 If “ the very hairs of your head are all num- 
 bered®,*” is there any thing too small for your 
 Father to notice ? No, be assured that He well 
 knows how hard the little things are to bear, and 
 it 4s therefore that He permits them, for the 
 
 trying of your faith, which is more precious than 
 gold, though it be tried in the fire®.’** Each of 
 these little circumstances, borne meekly and pa- 
 tiently, will conform you to the likeness of your 
 Lord and Master. His whole life on earth was 
 one continued crushing of the will : and shall we 
 desire that it should be otherwise with us ? “ He 
 
 Himself went not up to joy, but first He suffered 
 pain ; He entered not into His glory before He 
 was crucified ; so truly our way to eternal joy is to 
 suffer here with Christ ; and our door to enter 
 into eternal life is gladly to die with Christ ; that 
 we may rise again from death, and dwell with Him 
 in life everlasting h*” 
 
 Cease then from all struggle, and let Him fight 
 
 7 Rom. ix. 20. ® Luke xii. 7* ® 1 Pet. i. 7* 
 
 ^ Service for the Visitation of the Sick. 
 
170 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 for you. Lie still in Him. Do not tease yourself 
 with acts; perfect stillness, rest in all His ways, 
 because they are the ways of the God of Love : 
 asking no questions : believing that what thou 
 knowest not now, thou shalt know hereafter ^ 
 not saying, Lord, why cannot I follow Thee 
 now^r’ but giving yourself up to Him to lead 
 you, and to guide you, and to carry you whither 
 He will : this is submission. 
 
 V. 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 One of the most needful graces for a sick person 
 to cultivate is Hope. No chastening for the 
 present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous^:"’ the 
 bright and joyful things are all before him, — the 
 dark and dreary things surround him. He looks 
 around and asks — where is the bright blessing of 
 health? The mournful answer arises, ‘Ht is gone 
 for ever.’’*’ No, it is not gone for ever; it is await- 
 ing you there, where there shall be no more 
 pain where you shall put on a glorioiLs body, 
 not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing®;’’ 
 but you must “with patience wait for it; you 
 must hope for it®.” Yet a little and “He shall 
 change your vile body, and fashion it like unto 
 His glorious body.” This blessing is not come, 
 it is yet future ; you must hope for it. “ Hope 
 which is seen is not hope ; for what a man seeth, 
 why doth he yet hope for ^ ?” 
 
 To some persons, perhaps, hope is natural ; - 
 they hope for every thing ; they always look to 
 
 - John xiii. 2. ^ John xiii. 37. ^ Heb. xii. 11. 
 
 ^ Eph. V. 27. Rom. viii. 25. ^ Rom. viii. 24. 
 
HOPE. 
 
 171 
 
 tlie bright side, and expect the happiest and best 
 result. This temperament is probably given but 
 to few; and even they to whom it is given, if they 
 endure long years of sickness, find hope become 
 less and less natural to them ; it seems to eat the 
 life away, and make all things joyless and flat. 
 And yet none need hope so much as the sick. It 
 is a dreary thing not to hope. Job describes a 
 weary and sorrowful state, when he says, ‘‘ My 
 days are spent without hope ® ;’** and the prophets 
 Isaiah and Jeremiah speak of there being ‘‘no 
 hope as a state of mere dreariness. And again, 
 St. Paul speaks of “ having no hope V’ of those 
 who have nothing left to them. 
 
 True it is that “ hope deferred maketh the 
 heart sick * and some have thought that it is 
 better not to hope, than to have the chance of that 
 hope being deferred ; they have fancied that thus 
 they should be spared from trial. But does not 
 this mean the continual aiming after some earthly 
 thing, and the not attaining it when and as we 
 will, and so growing sick at heart, and weary of 
 delay ? If hope is a heavenly grace, one given by 
 God Himself, must it not be a good and precious 
 gift, one that we are to seek for by earnest and 
 unwearied prayer? We should remember, too, 
 that it is as possible to sin against hope, as to sin 
 against charity; in order, therefore, that we may 
 not commit this sin, we must earnestly and con- 
 tinually cultivate hope. 
 
 Sick persons, shut out for the remainder of this 
 present life from the bright things of this world ; 
 too ill to enjoy life ; surely are not called upon to 
 hope for recovery ; nor to hope for brighter days 
 here upon earth. No such lesson is proposed to 
 
 ” Job vii. 6. 
 
 ^ Eph. ii. 12. 
 
 ^ Isa. Ivii. 10 ; Jer. ii. 25. 
 2 Prov. xiii. 12. 
 
172 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 them, but rather to learn to say, “ Thy will be 
 done.’’ Yet they will find it a blessed and a 
 purifying exercise, to try to hope, and to exercise 
 themselves constantly in it. They seem to them- 
 selves now to be in prison, shut up from all the 
 joys of life. But they are '‘prisoners of hope®;” 
 for “hope which is seen is not hope; for what a 
 man seeth, why doth he yet hope for^?” It is 
 future blessing that they look for, and therefore 
 hope calls for patience^ and St. Paul speaks of the 
 “ patience of hope ® ;” and “ that we through 
 patience might have hope®;” and Patience work- 
 eth experience, and experience hope “ It is 
 good that a man should both hope, and quietly 
 wait for the salvation of the Lord 
 
 And surely since “hope purifieth®,” it must be 
 a blessed grace. Again, “ we are saved by hope ;” 
 we are not to suffer ourselves to lie in the grave of 
 hopelessness, but to look forward to the “joy that 
 is set before us“.” “ Hope maketh not ashamed 
 Earthly hope will often disappoint us, but hea- 
 venly hope, hope in things that are future, will 
 never “ make us ashamed.” Hope can put glad- 
 ness into our heart, for we are told of “ the re- 
 joicing of hope ;” and “ a lively hope^V' — a living 
 bright reality. It is not to be an empty thing, 
 but the “ full assurance of hope ;” the living cer- 
 tainty that those bright blessings are before us ; a 
 “reaching forth unto the things that are before'®.” 
 It is an “ anchor of the soul, both sure and 
 stedfast ; entering into that which is within the 
 veil It ensures all things to us ; makes them 
 
 2 Zech. ix. 12. 
 ® Rom. XV. 4. 
 
 ^ 1 John iii. 3. 
 Rom. V. 5. 
 Heb. vi. 11. 
 
 ^ Rom. viii. 24. 
 7 Rom. V. 4. 
 
 Rom. viii. 24. 
 ^3 Heb. iii. 6. 
 
 16 Phil. iii. 13. 
 
 3 1 Thess. i. 3. 
 3 Lam. iii. 26. 
 11 Heb. xii. 2. 
 
 1^ 1 Pet. i. 3. 
 
 17 Heb. vi. 19. 
 
HOPE. 
 
 173 
 
 into realities ; and thus, as we realize these truths, 
 we are enabled to “abound in hopeb” That 
 which we are to hope for is “ the hope which is 
 laid up for us in heaven,*” and hope brings heaven 
 near ; makes it no longer seem a future thing, but 
 that into which “ we which have believed do 
 enter now; feebly and faintly indeed, but yet 
 “ in heart and mind we ascend.*” Hope makes 
 all things become realities, even as though they 
 were already given to us ; we possess them now ; 
 
 * they are ours if “ we are Ohrist‘’s, and Christ is 
 God‘’s^’'' “He that plougheth, should plough in 
 hope ; and he that thresheth in hope should be 
 partaker of his hope Thus may we, though the 
 seed may very long be hid in the ground, still let 
 us hope ; we plough in hope now ; this too is the 
 ploughing time — the sowing time — the harrowing 
 time ; but the harvest will surely come. “ Hope 
 to the end V’ “though it tarry, wait for it 
 But we must not merely hope for future bless- 
 ings, but now “ hope in God Our souls may be 
 very faint, yet let us be able to say heartily, “ My 
 soul fainteth for thy salvation, but I hope in thy 
 word “ I will hope continually, and will yet 
 praise Thee more and more 
 
 All earthly things may seem to be fading away ; 
 you see no brightness any where. Your own lot 
 is full of sadness ; you have sore trials in your 
 family ; you look into the world, and it seems full 
 of sorrow. Where is hope then? Do not say, 
 “ it is excluded.*^*’ “ Hope thou in God.**** “ God 
 
 is Light, and in Him is no darkness at all He 
 only abideth — the world is all fleeting, passing 
 
 ^ Rom. XV. 13. ^ Heb. iv. 3. ^ 1 Cor. iii. 23. 
 
 ^ 1 Cor. ix. 10. 5 1 Pet. i. 1.3. ^ Heb.x. 37- 
 
 ^ Ps. xlii. 5. ® Ps. cxix. 81. ^ Ps. Ixxi. 14. 
 
 1 John i. 5. 
 
174 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 away even whilst you gaze at it. Hope is not 
 there ; but the hope of the righteous shall be 
 gladness because the Lord is their hope. 
 
 Happy is he whose hope is in the Lord his 
 God ‘‘ The Lord will be the hope of His 
 people 
 
 If earthly things are failing you, ‘‘ sorrow not 
 even as others which have no hope\‘’’ If friends 
 are taken from you, believe that if your friendship 
 was in God, you will surely meet them in His 
 presence, and have but “ sent on your treasures,” 
 that they might be kept safely for you, and that 
 5^011 might be drawn in spirit to the world unseen. 
 A little while, and you will find that your hope 
 was no delusive thing — that it was a reality ; that 
 the “ hope, which is laid up for you in Heaven is 
 kept by ‘‘the God of Hope.” Ask Him to give 
 you hope day by day, “ that you may abound in 
 hope®,” and thus glorify Him even as Abraham, 
 who “hoped against hope^” — every thing seemed 
 against him ; and yet because God had promised, 
 therefore he hoped still; and so stedfast was his 
 hope, that at the command of God he was ready 
 to sacrifice his hope — his only son. So must we 
 learn to give up all our best earthly hopes, to 
 sacrifice them, if God calls us to do so ; knowing 
 that we have “ hope laid up for us in Heaven.” 
 And even whilst we are here on earth, let us hope 
 in God, saying, “ for I will yet praise Him, who is 
 the health of my countenance, and my God ®.” 
 
 “ Now the God of Hope fill you with all joy and 
 peace in believing, that ye may abound in Hope, 
 through the power of the Holy Ghost ®.” 
 
 1 Prov. X. 28. 
 
 ^ 1 Thess. iv. 13. 
 7 Rom. iv. 18. 
 
 2 Ps. cxlvi. 5. 
 5 Col. i. 5. 
 
 8 Ps. xlii. 11. 
 
 3 Joel iii. 16. 
 
 6 Rom. XV. 13. 
 ® Rom. XV. 13. 
 
175 
 
 VI. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 You cannot have true cheerfulness whilst you are 
 fiercely struggling ; not until your heart is at rest, 
 and you have leisure to forget yourself. If you 
 have a murmuring spirit you cannot have true 
 cheerfulness ; it will generally show itself in your 
 countenance and your voice. Some little fretful- 
 ness or restlessness of tone will betray it. Your 
 cheerfulness is forced, it does not spring up freely 
 and healthily out of your heart, which it can only 
 do when that is truly at rest in God ; when you are 
 satisfied with His ways, and wishing no change 
 in them. When this is truly your case, then your 
 heart and mind are free, and you can rejoice in 
 spirit. 
 
 When you have ceased to be occupied with your- 
 self, you will have leisure to consider others, and 
 to make them happy. You will seek and desire 
 to be felt as a bright presence, cheering, and 
 healing, and strengthening those around you, es- 
 pecially the members of your own family ; you will 
 seek ever to greet them all brightly and cheerfully, 
 and courteously, when they come into your room ; 
 even if you feel very weary and languid, you will 
 rouse yourself to say some kind word, or to give a 
 smile of kindness ; you will try to overcome that 
 nervous feeling which so often makes you shrink 
 from looking at people — which makes you fancy 
 that you should cry or laugh if you did, and that 
 the fixing your eyes any where was almost impos- 
 sible. You will earnestly endeavour to make your 
 greetings kind to all^ not to a chosen few ; to 
 make all feel that they are welcome, even if their 
 coming be an unwelcome interruption, and seem- 
 
176 CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 ingly to you a most unfortunate one. Take it as a 
 trial, from which you may receive real blessing, if 
 you will receive it cheerfully, patiently, and sub- 
 missively, without questionings ; at any rate, do 
 not ^liow that it is inconvenient, or that you wish 
 them away ; if you do, you will lose the personal 
 blessing that you might have received ; the rela- 
 tive one that you might have imparted. There 
 are times, of course, with every sick person, when 
 they are really unable to admit their friends — even 
 the members of the family ; but when this is truly 
 the case, it may be explained very kindly, and be 
 made apparent that ‘‘ the spirit indeed is willing, 
 but the flesh is weak k” Do not meet them with 
 dulness, coldness, or unconcern : for the time, give 
 yourself up to them ; make their interests your 
 interests ; encourage them to speak of themselves 
 and their affairs, and do not lay your burdens upon 
 them. The more you learn to bear the burdens 
 of other people, the lighter your own will become. 
 
 You will say, perhaps, that this is a severe 
 lesson. How can you, who have been lying alone 
 for so long, pondering your many trials, and dif- 
 ficulties, and privations, — or else, have for hours 
 been making strained efforts for others, which 
 have worn your body and your spirit — how can 
 you, in a moment, lay aside all these things, and 
 meet other persons brightly and cheerfully, as if 
 there were no pressure upon your own spirit ? To 
 say that the effort is indeed a great one, would not 
 be enough; for it will not be 'attained by one, or 
 even by a few desultory efforts, but by continued, 
 persevering efforts, all made in, and with, God. 
 You will have insurmountable difficulties ; you will 
 not succeed in your desires ; you will often be met 
 with a cold absent manner, when you have made 
 ^ Matt, xxvi .41. 
 
CHEERFULNESS. 177 
 
 the greatest effort to meet your friends warmly 
 and kindly ; chills will come over your own heart 
 also, and be very painful and overpowering. Yet 
 be not out of heart; persevere, and He whom you 
 serve will crown your efforts ultimately with suc- 
 cess, and will make the effort to become less 
 and less. Remember that it is written, he 
 that showeth mercy, with cheerfulness All the 
 pleasure of receiving mercy, or sympathy, or kind- 
 ness, is taken away, when it is offered cheerlessly 
 and heartlessly, wearily or languidly. 
 
 Perhaps by nature you have no cheerfulness in 
 ' your constitution ; you never cultivated it ; you 
 thought it was a natural gift, and that those who 
 had it not were not responsible for the lack of it. 
 You have learned to view it otherwise and to 
 feel that it is a high Christian duty — one very dif- 
 ficult of attainment, and therefore needing con- 
 stant exercise. At first you were hopeless ; you 
 said that you could never be cheerful ; that you 
 had naturally depressed spirits, and that illness 
 had added to the depression ; that it was un- 
 reasonable to expect it of you ; that people ought 
 to bring cheerfulness to you, and not to expect 
 that you should show it forth to them ; that you 
 had such a constant drain on your spirits, that you 
 needed that your friends should come and renew 
 them for you — bring subjects of interest to you, 
 and amuse your mind. You tried this plan, and 
 found it to fail wholly, for it was always an uncer- 
 tainty, and no sure ground of comfort : besides, 
 you were fitful, and would not always be pleased 
 and amused : they said and did the wrong thing, 
 and at a wrong time^ until you made it a trial to 
 your friends to come to you. You saw that there 
 must be something wrong : the secret was re- ' 
 
 2 Rom. xii. 8. 
 
 N 
 
178 
 
 CHEERFULNESS, 
 
 vealed to you ; you were depending wholly on 
 creatures, trusting to them to cheer you, and not 
 living independently of all earthly persons and 
 circumstances — living in God alone. At first the 
 discovery was a severe trial to you, void of all 
 hope; but by degrees you turned to ‘‘the God of 
 consolation and asked Him to enable you to let 
 “ others take knowledge of you that you had been 
 with Jesus Nor was this all; you learned to 
 rest in Him ; to be content ; not to murmur ; and 
 thus you were so freed from thoughts of self, as 
 to be able to give your thoughts to others, to a 
 degree which at first seemed to you impossible. 
 Oh ! how. many rewards you have already received, 
 imperfectly as you have as yet learned, or can 
 practise, the lesson. Even your health is the 
 better for it ; your mind has ceased to prey upon 
 itself, and to re-act on your body ; thus you give 
 every advantage to remedies, and the best hope of 
 your recovery. You have hours and days of glad- 
 ness, where you used to have sorrow and sighing. 
 You find life a pleasanter thing than you ever 
 fancied it could become. You have the joy of 
 feeling that you impart happiness to others — that 
 you do not cast shadows on them. You have 
 innumerable interests to occupy you, and to pre- 
 vent your time from hanging wearily on your 
 hands ; and you have a foretaste of that bright 
 world to which we are hasting — where there will 
 “ be no more sorrow or sighing, or any such thing, 
 for the former things will have passed away^.’’ 
 By cultivating this spirit, you will learn by degrees 
 so completely to “ rejoice with them that do re- 
 rejoice that their pleasures will become your 
 own, and you will have a true share in them. 
 
 2 Rom. XV. 5. 
 ^ Rev. xxi. 4. 
 
 ^ Acts iv. 13. 
 
 ^ Rom. xii. 15. 
 
CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 179 
 
 Try often to plan pleasures for others, to con* 
 sider their tastes ; and then simply, and without 
 effort, to propose what you think will meet them. 
 In doing so you may often have to deny yourself ; 
 to make some arrangement that will put out your 
 usual habits, or be an inconvenience to you. This 
 will be very good for you, a wholesome discipline ; 
 but do not let it be ‘‘seen of men,*” it would spoil 
 their pleasure ; and would surely rob you of part 
 of the blessing. Show really hearty unconstrained 
 pleasure in every thing which gladdens another 
 heart. It may indeed seem to cast long shadows 
 on you, to speak to you of your captivity; to 
 remind you of the days when you could have 
 joined in these things, and enjoyed them even as 
 they. But do not let these dark thoughts darken 
 your countenance ; offer them to God alone ; and 
 ask Him to give you grace with your whole heart 
 to say, “ Thy will be done.” There is sometimes 
 a sort of turning away, an averted look, an audi- 
 ble sigh, when others are going forth, and you 
 cannot go; this is not cheerfulness, and must not 
 be suffered in yourself ; these things must be 
 crucified. Let your heart go along with your 
 friends ; enjoy with them ; and when they return, 
 willingly and cheerfully hear all that they will tell 
 you: if they have been where you never were — 
 if they have seen persons whom, though you 
 wished to see them, you have been prevented from 
 seeing ; — do not shrink from owning it, or turn off 
 the subject, but hear all with true interest, and 
 you will feel as if you had been with them. In 
 the joy of giving pleasure, you will receive a large 
 measure yourself. Seek to cultivate the habit of 
 enjoyment ; it is wonderful how it grows and 
 strengthens in us. A flower may be brought to 
 us, we may just carelessly receive it, and perhaps 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 CHEERFULNESS. 
 
 put it in water — or we may look at it, smell it, 
 have it by us and enjoy it, and find much instruc- 
 tion in it. We may be cheered too by the kind- 
 ness which brought it ; and so it is with every 
 thing else. 
 
 You know not what blessed influence you may by 
 cheerfulness have on persons who come to see you. 
 They may be strong and healthy now, but sickness 
 may soon overtake them ; the remembrance of 
 your cheerful sick room may prevent them from 
 dreading it, as they would have done, if their im- 
 pressions of a sick room had been only those of 
 gloom and sadness. They may be tempted to 
 much murmuring and discontent ; the remem- 
 brance of your cheerful face may be a reproof to 
 them ; or it may lead them to think what it could 
 be that made you cheerful amidst so many causes 
 of trial ; and they may never give up their search 
 until they have found that “ with Him is the well 
 of life 
 
 Children, too, may retain a sad or a bright im- 
 pression all through their lives. Therefore, as “ no 
 man liveth unto himself, and no man dieth unto 
 himself ®,'” let us seek so to live, that our lives may 
 be a blessing to others, and that eternally. Re- 
 member always, that it is not natural to you, 
 and that you are bound to seek for it, and to give 
 yourself no rest until you are vigorously cultivating 
 this great Christian duty, and that God alone can 
 teach you how cheerfully to accomplish those 
 things which He would have done.’’ 
 
 Strive earnestly to ‘4ay aside every weight®,” 
 every hindrance to the great duty of cheerfulness. 
 Perhaps one of the greatest, is the not living in the 
 present : either suffering your mind to dwell on 
 years that are past ; pleasures past away ; hopes 
 
 7 Ps. xxxvi. 9. ® Rom. xiv. 7. ^ Heb. xii. 1. 
 
THANKSGIVING. 
 
 181 
 
 all blighted ; purposes unfulfilled, stopped by sick- 
 ness, employments hindered, work taken from you, 
 your whole self changed and shattered. Or else, 
 perhaps, living in the future, forming to yourself 
 some dreamy imaginations of what you will do 
 when you recover your health ; how it will be with 
 you, how you can renew all past enjoyments, and 
 give them a brighter glow than they ever had 
 before. All this cannot fail to make you dis- 
 contented with the present, and will make your 
 lot seem to you sadder. You can never be cheer- 
 ful until you feel that every one of the circum- 
 stances in which you now find yourself, you were 
 placed in by the God of love — that it is your call- 
 ing^ and that you are to abide in it so long as 
 He pleases. That is to say, you are to seek to be 
 settled and grounded^’** in it, not seeking for, or 
 desiring any change. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 They who are earnestly seeking to show forth 
 cheerfulness, will have been already prepared to 
 ' join in the thanksgiving. 
 
 The other duties of the sick — Contentment, 
 Sympathy, Patience, and Cheerfulness, — may be 
 said -to be ‘‘our duty tow’ards our neighbour,"’ 
 though each one has also in it much of our “ duty 
 towards God.” But Submission and Thanks- 
 giving are, especially, our “ duty towards God.” 
 To “give thanks to Him for all things^,” is, 
 indeed, a very difficult duty ; for it includes 
 giving thanks for trials of all kinds ; for suf- 
 fering and pain ; for languor and weariness ; 
 
 1 Col. i. 23 2 Eph. V. 20. 
 
182 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 for the crossing of our wills ; for contradiction ; 
 for reproaches ; for loneliness ; for privations. 
 Oh ! this is a hard duty — ^most slow to be learned. 
 Yet ,they who have learned submission will not 
 find it a hard duty ; for they will so entirely love 
 all that God wills and appoints, that they will see 
 it is the very best thing for them — which they 
 could not have spared ; and this will be ground 
 for thanksgiving. Hereafter they will see that He 
 gave them just what they would have chosen for 
 themselves. Then, in looking back, they will see 
 all the links of the chain, and how wonderfully 
 even those have fitted, which at the time seemed ' 
 to have no adaptation and agreement. This be- 
 lief enables them to praise Him, and give thanks 
 noio for each thing, assured that as it has been, 
 so it will be — that the God of love will do all things 
 well. Therefore, as He does each thing, they will 
 see some cause for thanksgiving; and though now 
 the notes of praise are very feeble, they will swell 
 more and more, until, ‘‘with all the company of 
 Heaven, we laud and magnify His glorious name.*” 
 Do not distress yourself because praise seems to 
 you so difficult a duty : it is foreign to your 
 nature, but it will grow easier, and more delightful 
 to you, in proportion as you practise it. Begin 
 with thanking Him for some little thing, and then 
 go on, day by day, adding to your subjects of 
 praise ; thus you will find their numbers grow 
 wonderfully ; and in the same proportion, will 
 your subjects of murmuring and complaining di- 
 minish, until you see in every thing some cause for 
 thanksgiving. If you cannot begin with any thing 
 positive, begin with something negative. If your 
 whole lot seems only filled with causes for dis- 
 content, at any rate there is some trial that has 
 not been appointed you ; and you may thank God 
 for its being withheld from you. It is certain, 
 
THANKSGIVING. 
 
 183 
 
 that the more you try to praise, the more you will 
 see how your path and your lying down are beset 
 with mercies, and that the God of love is ever 
 watching to do you good. And so- likewise, as the 
 sense of your unworthiness deepens, you will find 
 more and more reason for thanksgiving. Such mer- 
 cies given to me, and I so unworthy of them ! 
 God is ever showing His love to me, and yet how 
 little I thank and praise Him for His love ! He 
 is ever giving me good gifts, and I am receiving 
 them as a right, as if I had a claim to them ! Oh ! 
 how little I have praised Him hitherto ! He has 
 been giving me blessings ever since I was born, 
 and I have scarcely noticed them : I have often 
 taken them as matters of course ; and, alas ! still 
 more frequently, have repined even at His very 
 gifts, and murmured at His loving will; and yet 
 He has not been wearied with me, or ceased His 
 gifts because I was unthankful. 
 
 The first sense of this deep unthankfulness is 
 most humbling and abasing. But we must be 
 made conscious of our sins before we shall be able 
 to say, will praise Thee, for Thine anger is 
 turned away, and Thou comfortedst me®."’ We 
 may see our comforts depart, as the bright things 
 of life pass away ; but when we have learned that 
 the will of God is pure and perfect love, without 
 change or variation, and that all His ways are 
 loving to us, then we shall learn to say, Although 
 the^figtree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit 
 be in the vines ; the labour of the olive shall fail, 
 and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flock shall 
 be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd 
 in the stalls : yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will 
 joy in the God of my salvation 
 
 There must be faith, hope, and charity in true 
 3 Isa. xii. 1. ^ Hab. iii. 17? 18. 
 
1S4 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 thanksgiving. We must lelieve God — believe that 
 He is love ; and that all His ways' towards us are 
 ‘‘very faithfulness.’’ We must hope in God, for 
 “hope purifieth®;” raises us above the earth; 
 brings all future things near, and makes us to see 
 future things as realities even now belonging unto 
 us. There must be charity^ for we must entirely 
 love God, and His will, and love our neighbour in 
 Him, and for His sake ; and so have our souls at 
 rest, and free from discontent, and from jarring 
 thoughts, which would distract us, and prevent 
 that clearness of heart, out of which thanksgiving 
 flows. We shall look at the things which are 
 unseen, not at those sad and oppressive things 
 which are seen; we shall thank God for those 
 realities, and find all the more cause for thanks- 
 giving, by contrasting those with the things which 
 are seen. You will look rather at “that body 
 which shall be®,” than at “this vile body^;” and 
 you will thank God for it. Instead of looking at 
 the points wherein your fellow-creatures give you 
 pain, you will look at their love and their kind- 
 ness, until you wonder at it, and at your own 
 blindness, which could not see it heretofore. In- 
 stead of mourning over your privations, you will 
 look with wonder at the innumerable gifts which 
 are given to you. Instead of looking at yourself 
 as unknown and unnoticed, you will learn to 
 wonder that so many — sometimes even persons 
 unknown to you — think of, and minister to you. 
 Instead of mourning that not a tree is granted to 
 you on which your weary eyes can rest, you will 
 thank God that even streets do not shut out the 
 sky, and that you can still gaze on that, and feel 
 that it is the work of God. Instead of thinking 
 of all your crosses, little and great, you will “turn 
 5 1 John iii. 3. ® 1 Cor. xv. 37. ^ Phil, iii, 21. 
 
THANKSGIVING. 
 
 185 
 
 away your eyes from beholding vanity®/’ and fix 
 your eyes upon His cross, which was so sharp and 
 so painful, and which was borne for you. What 
 have you to liken to His cross and passion?” 
 The reviling of enemies ; the forsaking of friends 
 — even the dearest ; the ignominy ; the betrayal ; 
 the scourgings ; and finally the crucifixion ; what 
 have you to liken to these things ? He^ and He 
 alone, could say — ‘‘Was ever grief like mine?” 
 And the more we gaze upon His suffering, the 
 more our hearts will answer — “ Never was grief 
 like Thine.” And thus we shall learn that ours 
 are “light afflictions.” And as our sense of sin 
 deepens, our knowledge of His amazing love will 
 deepen also, until we see, on His side, nothing 
 but love — on our side nothing but deep in- 
 gratitude. You will wonder that your “eyes 
 have been holden ® ” so that you never saw this 
 before, and have been going on, adding ingrati- 
 tude to all your other sins. 
 
 When once you learn “ in every thing to give 
 thanks, for this is the will of God concerning 
 you V’ then the “ voice of thanksgiving will be 
 heard in your dwelling V’ and your heart will 
 abound with thanksgiving. 
 
 When we feel that we owe much to a fellow- 
 creature, how our hearts go out towards them 
 in gratitude and love ! what a pleasure it is to 
 thank them, and to recognize their kindness ! 
 The more undeserving we feel, the more this will 
 be the case. How much more then shall we feel 
 it towards Him, “from whom cometh every good 
 and every perfect gift ^ ?” 
 
 Thanksgiving is a blessed and holy exercise ; it 
 elevates the whole being. You desire to glorify 
 God ; He says, “ Whoso offereth praise glorifieth 
 
 ® Ps. cxix. 37 . ^ Luke xxiv. IC. ^ 1 Thess. v. 18. 
 
 2 Ps. cxviii. 15. 3 James i. 17. 
 
186 
 
 THANKSGIVING. 
 
 Me ; and to him that ordereth his conversa- 
 tion aright, will I show the salvation of God*.” 
 If our hearts were tuned to praise, we should 
 see causes unnumbered, which we had never seen 
 before, for thanking God. ‘‘ 0 give thanks unto 
 the Lord, for He is gracious: for His mercy 
 endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the Lord 
 say so, whom He hath redeemed from the hand of 
 the enemy.” “ They wandered in the wilderness 
 in a solitary way ; they found no city to dwell 
 in. Hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted in 
 them. Then they cried unto the Lord in their 
 trouble, and He delivered them out of their dis- 
 tresses ®.” 
 
 Thanksgiving is spoken of as a sacrifice well 
 pleasing unto God®.” It is a far higher offering 
 than prayer. When we pray we ask for things 
 which we want; or we tell out our sorrows. It 
 is in one sense a selfish act. We pray, in order 
 to bring down blessings upon ourselves ; we praise, 
 because our hearts overflow with love to God, 
 and we must speak it out to Him. The only 
 reward that we expect, is the delight which it 
 brings to us. How purifying it must be to go 
 out of ourselves — to cease from thinking of what 
 is good in us, that we may think how good He 
 is ! It flows out of pure love, and then the love 
 goes back to our hearts, and warms them anew, 
 and revives and quickens them. 
 
 But remember that praise is a sacrifice — one 
 that God expects us to offer, and justly claims at 
 our hands. We may not choose but to offer it ; 
 if we do not, we “rob God.” “Will a man rob 
 God? Yet ye have robbed Me. But ye say, 
 Wherein have we robbed Thee ? In tithes and 
 offerings ^.” God says, “ Let them sacrifice the 
 
 ® Ps. cvii. 1 , 2. 4 — 6. 
 
 7 Mai. iii. 8. 
 
 ^ Ps. 1. 23. 
 
 0 Phil. iv. 18. 
 
REMEMBER THE POOR. 
 
 187 
 
 sacrifice of thanksgiving, and declare His works 
 with rejoicing®.” Let Israel rejoice in Him that 
 made him ; let the children of Zion be joyful 
 in their King Rejoice in the Lord k” “ Re- 
 joicing in hope,” and “ patient in tribulation ^,” are 
 closely connected. 
 
 Let us then say, “ I will offer to Thee the sacri- 
 fice of thanksgiving, and will call upon the name 
 of the Lord ®.” 
 
 I will sacrifice unto Thee with the voice of 
 thanksgiving ; I will pay that I have vowed.” 
 We often ask, “ What shall I render unto the 
 Lord for all His benefits unto meM” It is this 
 sacrifice of thanksgiving that He would have us 
 to render. We must offer it through our High 
 Priest, for all our offerings need to be purged, and 
 offered up purely for us. By Him therefore 
 let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God con- 
 tinually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks 
 unto His name ®.” 
 
 VIII. 
 
 TO REMEMBER THE POOR, AND TO AID OTHERS 
 IN THEIR WORKS OF MERCY. 
 
 He wills that you should remember the poor, “ The 
 poor have ye always with you, but Me ye have not 
 always ®.” If you have a true and living sense of 
 His love to yourself ; if you feel that He has ‘‘ done 
 marvellous things for you V’ ‘‘ things you looked not 
 for,” you will feel that the large family which our 
 
 8 Ps. cxvi. 17. 3 Ps. cxlix. 2. 1 Ps. xxxiii. 1. 
 
 2 Rom. xii. 11. 3 pg cxvi. I7. ^ Ps. cxvi. 12. 
 
 ^ Heb. xiii. 15. ® John xii. 8. ^ Ps. xcviii. 1. 
 
188 
 
 REMEMBER THE POOR. 
 
 Lord has left here on earth to be tended, and fed, 
 and cared for, ought to claim a very large portion 
 of your love, and your thoughts : and you will seek 
 by what means, shut up as you are, you can help, 
 and cheer, and bless them. There are many ways 
 of doing so. If you are a member of a family, and 
 not its head, it is probable that the very heavy ex- 
 penses of sickness will not fall upon you ; in this 
 case your needs will be so much fewer than when 
 you were going about in the world, that you will 
 be able to redeem a larger portion of this world’s 
 goods for the poor. You can either minister to 
 them by the hands of others, those of your family, 
 or your pastor ; or, if you are well enough, you 
 may have the delight of ministering with your own 
 hands to their necessities; you may send for them, 
 one at a time, and give them what you think they 
 most need, inquiring into their necessities, be- 
 coming affectionately interested in all their little 
 concerns. This, if you are able to do it from time 
 to time, will be a great help to yourself ; taking 
 from you the objectless, lonesome feelings of sick- 
 ness ; and you will learn by such intercourse how 
 light are your own trials and privations. It will 
 give you many causes for thanksgiving. You have 
 a comfortable room, kind attendance, food to eat, 
 fire, and manifold blessings — they, perhaps, have 
 but one small, dark, unwholesome room, for all 
 purposes, in which a large family may be shut up 
 in fever, with no other place but a hospital to go 
 to ; no fresh air, no fire (or but rarely) ; no at- 
 tendant, and often without necessary food, cloth- 
 ing, or bedding. Let all your knowledge of trial 
 draw out your deepest sympathies towards them, 
 and let your knowledge of your blessings, and your 
 wonderful exemption from such trials, stir up in 
 you the spirit of praise. Perhaps you may be able 
 
REMEMBER THE POOR. 
 
 189 
 
 to make clothes for them, or to provide for their 
 being made ; to send them food and other com- 
 forts. If you are the head of a family, you can 
 easily arrange to have many things spared and 
 saved for them, though your means may be very 
 limited, and your burdens pressing heavily. The 
 more we are looking out for opportunities of help- 
 ing the poor, the more will the power and the will 
 increase ; and ways will open which were unseen 
 before. 
 
 In giving to the poor so much depends on the 
 manner in which it is done ; a sympathizing man- 
 ner showing real care for them, with but a few 
 kind words, will strike home to their hearts, how- 
 ever small the gift given : whereas, some great gift 
 may be given harshly, or a lecture about want of 
 prudence and economy may be given with it, which 
 may take from the gift all its value, and make 
 them feel only, how little the rich know of the 
 wants of the poor, and how little they sympathize 
 with them. You, especially, who have had the 
 discipline of sickness and its privations, should 
 show them tenderness and sympathy. If you can- 
 not visit them yourself, or even see them when they 
 come to your house, you will interest your servants ^ 
 in them, and make them your almoners. It will 
 do them much good also, and will be a link be- 
 tween them and the poor, and between yourself 
 and them. All your attempts to help the poor 
 you will offer to God as your sacrifice of thanks- 
 giving® and will do all, as unto the Lord, and 
 not as unto men®.'’ In the same way, you will 
 endeavour to aid every one who comes near you 
 in their ‘‘ work of faith and labour of love You 
 will help them by any assistance of money, work, 
 or advice you have it in your power to give ; nor 
 8 Ps. cxvi. 17. 9 Col. iii. 23. Heb. vi. 10. 
 
190 
 
 REMEMBER THE POOR. 
 
 will you do this the less although your work should 
 be wholly hidden, and it should appear to be theirs 
 alone. You will see how good this is for you; 
 and will gladly and thankfully see others working, 
 and cheer them on their way, even though at times 
 you may suffer from the pain of the contrast. You 
 will seek also to interest yourself in all works of 
 mercy ; in those societies and institutions, which 
 are really trying to do the work of God, in an 
 orderly and humble manner. Every thing in which 
 you can interest yourself, will open to you a fresh 
 and a wider field of enjoyment. Every thing that 
 belongs to God, and is furthering His work on 
 earth, should have the deepest interest for you ; 
 and you should seek to let it become increasingly 
 a part of yourself, of your thoughts, your prayers, 
 and your labours. 
 
PART IV. 
 
 THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 The Blessings of Sickness are so inseparably connected with its 
 trials, and the danger of trying to look upon them apart from each 
 other is so great, that throughout this volume they have been 
 blended, and this chapter is intended merely to “gather up some 
 of the fragments that remain, that nothing may be lost.” “ 0 
 how great is the sum of them ! if I should count them, they are 
 more in number than the sand.” “ Whoso is wise, and will 
 observe these things, he shall understand the loving-kindness of 
 the Lord.” 
 
 It was a strange answer, you think, which came at 
 last ; you had prayed for work, and He has sent 
 5^11 sickness, and laid you aside. He has seemed 
 to read all your prayers backwards,” and to an- 
 swer you by contraries. ‘‘ Doubt not, but earn- 
 estly believe,” that your sickness is the very best 
 answer to your prayers; that it meets them, and 
 includes them all. In it, and by it, your works will 
 be purified ; and, strange truth you will surely, if 
 you use it aright, learn in sickness to ‘‘ love life 
 and see good days h” You will learn to ‘‘ joy in the 
 gifts Heaven's bounty sends to see every thing 
 shining out in the brightness which the -love of 
 God sheds upon all things. Y ou will learn so to 
 love His will, that you will desire nothing but what 
 He gives. Even now, there are great blessings to 
 you, in being thus laid aside. Have you ever 
 
 ^ Ps. xxxiv. 12. 
 
.192 • THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 thought from how many evil things you have been 
 kept by it ? how many extravagances you not only 
 mighty but certainly would have followed, which, by 
 the mercy of God in sending sickness, have been 
 put out of your reach ? how greatly your zest for 
 controversy was misleading you ? but sickness has 
 taught you to feel its lovelessness and its restless- 
 ness, and how much it is apt to engross the 
 thoughts, and draw them away from vital truths. 
 Sick persons want real living truths ; they want 
 food^ not husks ; the simpler the truth, the better 
 for them. You know that God is love, and you 
 wish to be like Him ; you do not want to be 
 tempted to ‘‘bite and devour one another You 
 were “ feeding on husks The Voice might have 
 said, “Let him alone^;’’ but It said, “Return 
 unto Me.*” “ I will allure her, and bring her into 
 
 the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her 
 
 It may be that you had begun to care more for 
 the “ outward visible sign,*” than for the “ thing 
 signified.*” 
 
 You are taken by sickness from your idolatry of 
 forms, only that you may see them at a little dis- 
 tance, and see how much had been added by men, 
 and by your own earthliness of heart ; and how 
 very much in those forms was living and true and 
 holy. 
 
 You are taken from hearing of penitence, that 
 you may learn to be penitent. From hearing that 
 Christians should love each other, to dwell more 
 alone with Him who is love, in order that you may 
 be changed into His image. 
 
 You are but taken aside that you may learn 
 what is truth with less confusion than you could 
 learn it whilst you were in Babel ; for you are 
 brought into the presence of “ The Truth where 
 * Gal. V. 15. ^ Luke xiii. 8. ^ Hos. ii. 14. 
 
THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 193 
 
 all glosses are by degrees removed, and the soul 
 becomes more and more alone with God. Perhaps 
 you had thought to make some great sacrifice or 
 dedication ; to render some great service ; or to 
 separate yourself from the world ; you despised 
 domestic duties, thought them poor and worldly, 
 and not containing enough in them of sacrifice. 
 You overlooked the hourly and continual calls in 
 them for real self-sacrifice — for renunciation of will 
 — for subduing your tempers — ‘‘forbearing one 
 another in love’" — for mortifying your pride and 
 vanity — for denying self. All those things were 
 lying so close at hand, that you could not see them, 
 for you were looking for something afar off. God 
 heard your prayers, and He has answered them ; 
 not as you would have had it, but as He saw best. 
 He said, “ Seekest thou great things for thyself? 
 seek them not®;"" but He said also, “You wish 
 to make some great sacrifice, and you shall have 
 the desire of your heart ; you shall sacrifice your 
 wUl^ and lay that upon the altar."" You could not 
 be called upon to make a greater sacrifice ; make 
 it willingly and cheerfully. 
 
 Could you see all the ways in which you would 
 have walked, if health had been given to you, all 
 the snares into which vou would have fallen, and 
 all the dangers which you have escaped : instead of 
 repining at sickness, and loneliness, and weariness, 
 you would thank God for no mercy more heartily, 
 than for sickness. 
 
 And now that we have considered sickness, with 
 its many sorrows and trials and hidden sufferings, 
 and its many blessings and mercies and comforts ; 
 do you not see that there is a wide field opened 
 before you yet? — that the map of your life is not 
 so contracted as you supposed ? that there is very 
 
 ® Jer. xlv. 5. 
 
 O 
 
194 
 
 THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 much work still for you to do ? W ork, some pf 
 which you could not have done without sickness ; 
 and none of which you could have done so well, 
 without its discipline. You may, indeed, seem to 
 yourself, and to others, to be doing much less than 
 you used to do, and to be doing less than they ex- 
 pect of you. Be assured, that if you rightly receive 
 your sickness, whatever work you do, is done with 
 so much more simplicity and sincerity, and with so 
 much purer motivfes, than ever before ; that what 
 you do, having more of God, and less of yourself 
 in it, is far more precious in His sight, and more 
 valuable to those whom it concerns. You re- 
 member, doubtless, how many things you did in 
 time past, either to be “ seen of men,” or to please 
 other people ; to satisfy your restless, busy nature, 
 which must be ever at work ; or to have the plea- 
 sure of doing some great thing which would get 
 you glory in the eyes of others. Now, how differ- 
 ently all things appear to you ! You cannot, if 
 you would, act thus ; and you see, as never before, 
 not only the intense pleasure of being permitted to 
 work for God, in the very least ways, which you 
 would formerly have overlooked as too insignifi- 
 cant ; but also that there is nothing worth living 
 for, except to glorify God. 
 
 You have learned this by suffering, and you 
 have been brought to feel willing and thankful to 
 suffer, if it may but purify your motives ; prevent 
 you from working the work of God deceitfully® 
 and make you to look up to Him for your work 
 day by day, and not to choose it for yourself ; not 
 to complain because you have none ; not to seek 
 to do your own works. Again, you will look up 
 to Him in the evening, and thank Him for what 
 He has enabled you to do ; for the work which 
 ® Jer. xlviii. 10. 
 
THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 195 
 
 He has given, and the strength which He has 
 given you with which to perform it. You find 
 it in your daily life, in domestic duties, those 
 small and mean ones which you used to overlook, 
 and think wholly apart from the service of God. 
 Y ou find it in intercourse with your friends ; in 
 the claims and calls of the poor; in all that in- 
 terests those with whom you are connected ; and 
 in ail which concerns the Church of God. You 
 find your work, also, in striving with all that is evil 
 in yourself, and in overcoming it for your own sake, 
 and for your brethren’s sake ; for each victory that 
 you obtain over the tempter, in the name, and in 
 the strength of the Lord, weakens his power over 
 you, and over them, and gives him a surer earnest 
 of being “ bruised under your feet shortly V’ and 
 under their feet also. 
 
 In every victory over the devil, or over your own 
 selfishness and self-will, you find your work, and 
 you fulfil it. Therefore, never let the weary, wither- 
 ing thought return to you, that you have no work, 
 nothing to do for God, and are an isolated being. 
 Yet a little, and ‘‘your work shall be rewarded*;” 
 “ that which is hidden shall be made known and 
 you and all mankind will see, that your sick bed 
 was no hindrance to working the work of God ; 
 that you had a work to do there which you could 
 not have done elsewhere ; a work not occasionally, 
 but filling up every hour of the day, whether you 
 were seemingly busy, or lying almost in a lethargy, 
 or even in a dark room, taking no notice of any 
 thing which was passing around. Even there you 
 were working, and God was by your side, appoint- 
 ing your work of suffering, and its measure, and 
 its nature, and blessing it to you ; and without that, 
 
 ^ Rom. xvi. 20, 
 
 ® Jer. xxxi. 16. 
 o 2 
 
 ^ Luke xii. 2. 
 
196 
 
 THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 the work which He has given to the Church to do 
 would be imperfect. In the extremest languor, in 
 the utmost weariness or sharpness of pain, say to 
 yourself, This is the will of God ; thus it is His 
 will that T should work for Him ; my portion is 
 now to ‘ fill up that which is behind of the afflic- 
 tions of Christ in my flesh for His Body’s sake, 
 which is the Church h’” What a glorious work! 
 What an honour to be called to it ! How often 
 in His sufferings here upon earth. He was alone, 
 and none saw what He endured, except His Father 
 and our Father. Yet even then. He was fulfilling 
 His ministry; and so it is with you. Faint not 
 then ; your spirit may be growing very weary, but 
 strengthen your heart with the thought, that you 
 are suffering with, and for, Christ, and for ‘‘ His 
 Body’s sake, which is the Church.” Think, too, 
 when you are ‘‘ weary and faint in your mind of 
 what He endured, and then of the high calling 
 which it is to suffer with Him ; to have the fel- 
 lowship of His sufferings, and to be made conform- 
 able to His death 
 
 He, who has called you to this work and office, 
 is with you, and will “ be with you alway, even 
 unto the end sustaining, strengthening, and 
 cheering you. 
 
 One more blessing you have ; which is, that the 
 Lord’s prayer is no longer a form to you, or even 
 merely words which you have pleasure in repeat- 
 ing. You want it now — it is necessary to your 
 life ; and every word of it has become full of mean- 
 ing, such as it never had before ; every sentence is 
 a life-giving sound. Very often when you are un- 
 able to say any words of your own, to think any 
 thought of your own, you can pray this prayer in 
 
 ’ Col. i. 24. 
 
 3 Phil. hi. 10. 
 
 2 Heb. xii. 3. 
 
 ^ Matt, xxviii. 20, 
 
THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 197 
 
 your heart, and give thanks for it. Your extreme 
 weakness and dependence ; your want of some per- 
 son to rest on — ^^to turn to in all your trials, and 
 sorrows, and pains, and perplexities ; One who 
 knew them all, and ‘‘ needed not that any man 
 should teach Him, for He knew what was in 
 man®,’” have taught you to say, Our Father 
 with a love and tenderness and confidence which 
 you never knew before : and you rejoice to say 
 our'"’' because it tells you that you are a member 
 of a family, and not a solitary being : and when 
 you say, which art in heaven,*” then you are 
 reminded of that ‘‘ rest which remaineth for the 
 people of God ^ :*” “ an inheritance incorruptible 
 and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved 
 in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of 
 God through faith unto salvation 
 
 All the eager and restless desires of your life for 
 the glory of God, and the advancement of His 
 kingdom, seem now to find their centre and rest- 
 ing-place in the words — “ Hallowed be Thy name, 
 Thy kingdom come all your personal desires and 
 wishes, for yourself, your friends, and all mankind, 
 to be expressed for you in ‘‘ Thy will be done in 
 earth, as it is in heaven."” Your daily need to be 
 led and guided ; and to have your work and your 
 strength, your trials and your supports, and all 
 your earthly needs — summed up in the petition, 
 ‘‘ Give us this day our daily bread ;*” your growing 
 sense of sin, your knowledge of your continual 
 “ sins, negligences, and ignorances your deep 
 sense of lovelessness, and sufferings from it, make 
 your whole heart to say, ‘‘Forgive us our tres- 
 passes, as we forgive ,them that trespass against 
 us.*” The ever-growing sense of temptation — of 
 
 ® John ii. 25. 
 ^ Heb. iv. 9. 
 
 ® Matt. vi. 9. 
 
 ^ 1 Pet. i. 4, 5. 
 
198 
 
 THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 being “sore let and hindered’’ — of “the temp- 
 tations of the world, the flesh, and the devil” — 
 all these make your heart to cry out, “ Lead us 
 not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” 
 There is assurance in asking all these things, for 
 “ Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, 
 for ever and ever and therefore you say “ Amen, 
 so be it.” All things are in His hand, and all that 
 you have asked He can grant. You seem to begin 
 each petition with, “ Our Father for those two 
 words explain and run through the prayer, and 
 give you the child dike confidence in asking, which 
 you so greatly need. 
 
 “Our Father!” let those words blend them- 
 selves with every thought of your heart, vdth every 
 action of your life. Surely “ Our Father” would 
 “deal with us as with sons®;” and would send us 
 no needless suffering, no unnecessary correction. 
 “ Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
 pitieth them that fear Him k” He would not give 
 us into other hands for correction. He Himself 
 will correct : “ He will correct us in measure ; yet 
 will He not leave us wholly unpunished k” 
 
 “‘Blessed are ye that weep’ now, whether in 
 contradiction, or bereavement, or sickness, or fear. 
 Every visitation is a stage of advance in your walk 
 of faith. Every chastisement is sent to open a 
 new page in the great Book of Life — to show you 
 things within you which you knew not, and things 
 which hereafter shall be your portion. He is 
 cleansing the power of sight in you, that it may 
 become intense and strong to bear His presence : 
 and that power of sight is love ; fervent and puri- 
 fying love, consuming every sin, and purging out 
 every stain. The more fervently you cleave to 
 Him by love, the clearer shall be your vision of 
 ^ Heb. xii. 7* ^ Ps. ciii. 13. - Jer. xlvi. 28. 
 
THE BLESSINGS OF SICKNESS. 
 
 199 
 
 His beauty. Then welcome all He sends, if so be 
 we may see Him at last, where there is no more 
 sin, where truth has no shadow, where unity and 
 sanctity have no dispute. Welcome sorrow, trial, 
 fear, and the shadow of death, if only our sin be^ 
 blotted out, and our lot secure in the lowest room, 
 in the light of His face, before the throne of His 
 beauty, in our home, and in our rest for ever.’’ 
 
PART V. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 1 . 
 
 READING THE SCRIPTURES. 
 
 There is a very desultory kind of reading, even of 
 the Holy Scriptures, in which the sick often in- 
 dulge. They can read but little, and therefore they 
 often choose the portions which they like the best, 
 and think will be the most profitable to them. 
 Thus they lose much of the meaning of the Bible, 
 by taking it in detached passages, instead of in its 
 connexion ; by taking verses apart from the con- 
 text, they often get a false idea of the meaning ; 
 and many portions which would be very instructive 
 to them they never read : choosing for themselves 
 what their food is to be, instead of having it given 
 to them. To have some plan in reading is a very 
 great help, and especially to those who are so 
 much taken from the ordinary helps in this way. 
 It is pleasant to look to some one to guide us and 
 teach us, and to tell us what to do ; and it pre- 
 vents that vague feeling of wanting to know what 
 it is best to do, and how to read the Scriptures 
 the most profitably. ‘‘ All Scripture is given by 
 inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, 
 for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righte- 
 ousness : that the man of God may be perfect — 
 
READING THE SCRIPTURES. 
 
 201 
 
 throughly furnished unto all good works h” There- 
 fore we should read all Scripture ; otherwise we 
 shall omit something that is ‘‘profitable for doc- 
 trine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction.’’’ 
 Reading detached chapters and verses does not 
 answer the same end. 
 
 Can there be a better rule than the one given 
 by the Church ? And if we read the daily Lessons 
 and Psalms, as far as our strength permits, we 
 shall read the Old Testament once every year, and 
 .the New Testament three times, and the Psalms 
 twelve times through. We shall soon find how 
 wonderfully each Lesson and each Psalm seems to 
 bring something peculiarly fitted to our need at 
 that very time : and every day, as we read them 
 afresh, we shall find this more and more, and be 
 able to appropriate them as the portion given to 
 us for our profit, and not self-chosen. And we 
 shall have the happiness of not reading alone, but 
 with “ many members of the one body 
 
 Do not fear that it will degenerate into a mere 
 form ; it will grow less and less so as you pursue 
 it. But sick people need not have so much fear of 
 forms — they, perhaps, of all others, need them the 
 most — for they are deprived of so many that come 
 in the natural order of things to people in health, 
 that they are in great danger of growing desultory. 
 Often a husk may be thrown away as useless, not 
 knowing that it contains a precious kernel. The 
 husk may look to you like other husks — unsightly 
 and valueless ; but you cannot get at, or pre- 
 serve the kernel without it. At any rate, do not 
 throw it away until you have well examined it ; 
 and in this case the only way of thoroughly testing 
 it is by long and daily practice. 
 
 1 2 Tim. iii. 16, 17. 
 
 2 1 Cor. xii. 12. 
 
202 
 
 11 . 
 
 SUNDAY. 
 
 Another subject of trial to sick people is the 
 Sunday. Some feel this much more acutely than 
 others. The want of public worship is, and ought 
 to be, a great trial to you ; the loss of assembling 
 together, of having a place where prayer is wont 
 to be made where many are praying together, 
 thus helping each other ; where God is especially 
 felt to be present ; and where a fixed time is ap- 
 pointed for prayer, the quiet of which cannot be 
 broken in upon by outward distractions and inter- 
 ruptions. Besides this, there is a wonderful help 
 in the sympathy of many worshipping together ; 
 our sluggish souls need every help : also the mice 
 of prayer is a great assistance, and keeps up the 
 attention. And when praise is offered, the heart 
 is lifted up with others, and at least the mice of 
 melody^'” ascends. There, also, the fulfilment of 
 the promise may especially be claimed : Where 
 two or three are gathered together in My name, I 
 will be with them ^ and there is the realization 
 of the Church ; of being many members of one 
 body ; so that we learn to say, I believe in the 
 Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints.’’ 
 
 All these blessings are withheld from the sick ; 
 the cheerful sound of the Church bells does biit 
 remind them that they ‘^cannot go up to the house 
 of the Lord and would sound with painful sad- 
 ness in their ears, if they were not learning the 
 lesson to ‘^rejoice with them that do rejoice ®.” 
 
 The degree to which the absence from public 
 worship tells on private devotion, they can best 
 
 ^ Isa. li. 3. 
 
 ® Rom. xii. 15. 
 
 3 Acts xvi. 13. 
 
 * Matt, xviii. 20. 
 
SUNDAY. 
 
 203 
 
 declare who have been for months or years de- 
 barred from it. The habit, the fixedness, the place 
 are all wanting. It is a very difficult thing day 
 after day to continue devotions in the same un- 
 changed place ; with nothing outward to call you 
 away from the world, to call you to worship. In 
 that very room, that very bed, perhaps, you must 
 carry on every thing; there are your pains and 
 sicknesses ; there you see your friends ; you take 
 your meals; you transact all your worldly busi- 
 ness ; you sleep ; there it is that every thing which 
 fills up your life is carried on. The outward helps 
 of being called to worship ; of going to the house 
 of God ; of the companionship of worship, you 
 never have. You see others go, you sometimes 
 wish that they would so connect you with their 
 blessings and enjoyments, as to say occasionally, 
 that they wish you could go with them ; you would 
 not wish it always, for then it would become a for- 
 mality. Probably it is their kindness that with- 
 holds them, though they may be mistaken as to 
 what is the best for you. They suppose, in most 
 cases, that after so many months or years of con- 
 finement to the house, you must be quite used to 
 it, and have long ceased to desire to go to Church, 
 feeling that it must not, cannot be, and so they 
 fear to stir up your longings afresh. Or, they 
 look on your being left at home as so completely a 
 matter of course, that they either forget that it is 
 so, or that it can be any trial to you ; or else they 
 suppose that you ought to be reconciled to it ; and 
 that if you are not, you are very wrong. Or they 
 may think it a mere form to say words which im- 
 ply an impossibility. Or they cannot perhaps fully 
 understand the measure and depth of the trial, be- 
 cause when during any short illness they have been 
 Kept at home, it may be that they have had par- 
 
204 
 
 SUNDAY. 
 
 ticular enjoyment of the day ; and certainly they 
 could not feel the effects that it produces on pri- 
 vate devotion, in so short a time. This also ac- 
 counts for the fact, that when sick people begin to 
 recover, after a long illness, and are able to go to 
 Church again, if they are prevented for one or 
 more Sundays, they show great disappointment ; 
 and friends say, I wonder that you should so 
 much mind being kept at home for one or two 
 Sundays, when you remember for how very long a 
 time you were prevented from going ; surely one 
 Sunday cannot now be much of a privation to 
 you.*” It is just because you have been shut up 
 so long, that you feel the more keenly each 
 hindrance now. You have learned the value of 
 public worship ; besides which, you feel how un- 
 certain is your tenure of the blessing, and you do 
 not like to pass by one opportunity whilst you 
 have it. 
 
 When your friends return from Church, you 
 long to be connected with what they have been 
 enjoying ; how thankful you would feel to be 
 voluntarily told about the sermon, or even the 
 text ! 
 
 • Sometimes you think that people ought at least 
 to hole happier and more cheerful on Sunday, than 
 on other days ; you feel that their blessings are 
 great, that it ought to be the brightest of days to 
 them ; for it seems to be its very brightness that 
 casts so dark a shadow on you. It appears to 
 you that they often look more weary, and seem 
 more uncomfortable on that day than on any 
 other. You do not take into account that they 
 have weary bodies, which have been worn by the 
 toil of the week ; and that the very rest from 
 that, seems to bring weariness or listlessness. 
 Neither do you take into account, what a busy 
 
SUNDAY. 205 
 
 and occupied day it generally is, and how very 
 little time they have to spare to you, and that 
 little is when they are tired with the labours and 
 pleasures of the day ; and the spirit having been 
 so much engaged, is weary too. 
 
 There are, doubtless, some cases in which it 
 would produce discontent, if it were said to a sick 
 person, “ I wish you could go with us.” A few it 
 might leave in tears, — either those who have been 
 ill but a short time, and who have not as yet seen 
 that they are wrong in indulging the temptations 
 to eager longing, — or even to envy those who can 
 go to Church, — or else those who encourage dis- 
 content in this and other forms, ^‘refusing to be 
 comforted.” In the majority of cases, it would be 
 found that the kindness of the words, and the plea- 
 sant thought that others would like you to share 
 in their pleasures, would prove a great help, and 
 refresh and cheer your weary spirits long after the 
 words had been forgotten by the person who spoke 
 them. It seems half to take you to Church in 
 spirit, — at any rate it gives a realization of the 
 Communion of Saints, — to some minds of course 
 more deeply than to others. I wish you could 
 go with us.” “ In spirit I can^'' the heart answers, 
 and already the feeling of isolation is gone, and in 
 place of it is, ‘‘ I believe in the Holy Catholic 
 Church, the communion of saints.” 
 
 On the other hand, how often the sick person 
 feels, as the last person leaves the house for 
 Church, ‘‘ If they cared that I should go with 
 them, surely they would sometimes say so ; how 
 then can I hope that they will remember me there ? 
 I am cut off from fellowship.” 
 
 These feelings are of course wrong and morbid, — 
 they ought not to be cherished at all, they should 
 be earnestly resisted, — but that they will offer 
 
206 
 
 SUNDAY. 
 
 themselves to you as temptations, there can be 
 but little doubt. The only way to meet them is to 
 say, I am here by the will of Grod and to fix 
 it in your heart that you can expect no blessing 
 any where but in the place that He appoints for 
 you. You are the ‘‘prisoner of the Lord,""* and 
 so, when you pray for “ all prisoners and captives,’’ 
 you will feel that you can pray for them, for you have 
 many wants and trials in common with them. 
 As such you are to “ walk worthy of the vocation 
 wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and 
 meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one an- 
 other in love ; endeavouring to keep the unity of 
 the Spirit, in the bond of peace. There is one 
 body, and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one 
 hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one 
 baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above 
 all, and through all, and in you all And whilst 
 these verses tell you your duties, they do at the 
 same time tell you how great are your blessings, — 
 that you are in the unity of the Church, — that 
 sickness is not a state of isolation, for “there 
 is one body,” — the whole Church is one family, of 
 which some are sick, and some in health, each 
 needing the other, and unable to go on without 
 the varied and reciprocal offices. 
 
 People often say that “ you can as well say 
 your prayers at home.” It seems to you that this 
 is not the fact ; nevertheless be sure that when 
 God calls you to do so. He will make all grace to 
 abound towards you, and will not suffer your “ soul 
 to hunger®.” He who fed the five thousand with 
 so few loaves and fishes, will surely feed you. 
 “ Bread shall be given you, and your water shall 
 be sure ®.” He will feed you, though often you 
 may see no bread, but this does not hinder you 
 
 ^ Eph. iv. 1 — 6. ^ Deut. viii. 3. ® Isa. xxxiii. 16. 
 
SUNDAY. 
 
 207 
 
 from receiving it : sometimes it may seem to you 
 very bitter, — sometimes very dry, — it may rarely 
 be “pleasant bread*.’’ Fear not, though thus it 
 may be, and “ though the scent of water ^ ” may 
 be far off, yet He can feed you and give you to 
 drink; — He who gave you life, will sustain it; — 
 He can exactly adapt the daily portion of bread to 
 your need ; He will make it sufficient to sustain 
 you, and to enable you to go on your way. Only 
 do not seek to choose your food, but let Him give 
 you the “ bread which is convenient and necessary 
 for you 
 
 You wish to spend your Sundays differently 
 from all other days, but the difficulty is how to do 
 it ; you have, perhaps, a great deal more quiet 
 time and leisure for reading, than on other days, 
 but you cannot go on reading always, and you 
 have not the variation of daily life, and of seeing 
 friends, scarcely even your own family. 
 
 Have you tried, as much as possible, to make 
 your Sundays like what they would be if you could 
 go to Church, and like your own past Sundays ? 
 Y ou used to go to Church ; there was an ap- 
 pointed service ; a guide and direction to your de- 
 votions and thoughts. A service that all joined 
 in, — not only in the particular church to which you 
 went, but throughout England Was it not in- 
 tended for all the members of the Church? Then 
 it belongs to you^ for you are “ a sick member.” 
 
 If, when you know that the Service is beginning 
 to be read at Church, you begin to read it also ; 
 then you may join with all who are worshipping 
 every where, and you will cease to feel cut off and 
 isolated. When you begin to do this at first it 
 may appear to you formal ; at any rate it will 
 seem very flat, without any one to respond, with- 
 
 ^ Dan. X. 3. 2 job xiv. 9. ^ p^ov. xxx. 8. 
 
208 
 
 SUNDAY. 
 
 out any hymns of praise, and you will have little, 
 if any, pleasure in it. Do not be disappointed by 
 this, — do not leave off the practice because of 
 it, — for every time you try (after awhile) you will 
 find more pleasure, and profit, and blessing in it, 
 and feel more as if you were joining ‘‘the great 
 congregation Perhaps, too, you will find the 
 reading the Services alone and slowly brings out 
 to you new beauties which you never saw before. 
 Your circumstances, too, may bring home to your 
 heart some prayers and petitions, which hitherto 
 you had only “ heard with the hearing of the 
 ear Especially in reading the Litany, you can 
 bring in the cases of your own friends, separately, 
 naming them in your heart, “ widows,"’ the ‘‘ father- 
 less children,” the “sick,” “all prisoners and cap- 
 tives,” &c., and this will give life to it, and enable 
 you to be “helpers of their joy®,” and will connect 
 you with others who are “ sitting solitary h” 
 
 Do not say that it would be formal thus to 
 read the Services at home, that they are meant 
 for public worship, and that to use forms in pri- 
 vate, and especially in a sick room, is a bondage 
 and formality. If you are cut off from the Church 
 by sickness, then you have no part in her Services. 
 It cannot be more formal to offer these prayers in 
 private than in public ; they are for the whole 
 Church, and therefore for you. You often com- 
 plain of the exceeding difficulty of fixing your 
 thoughts, and offering your own words in prayer, — 
 here are words for you, true and holy words, 
 which all ages have been uttering, exactly fitted 
 to your wants, now and at all times. Sick people 
 need guides for their thoughts and words more 
 than others do ; and they, who have tried the plan 
 
 5 Job xlii. 5. 
 
 7 Lam. i. 1. 
 
 ^ Ps. xxii. 25. 
 2 Cor. i. 24. 
 
SUNDAY. 
 
 209 
 
 of reading the Services during the hours of public 
 worship, can speak of the exceeding blessing that it 
 has been to them. 
 
 If you are unable to read the whole Service, 
 you can read some part of it ; the Confession, and 
 as much as you have strength for besides ; or the 
 Litany only. 
 
 If you are able to read much at a time, then, 
 when you have read the Service, you can read a 
 sermon ; after that, you surely had better lie still 
 for a time, and do nothing. Then gladly take the 
 refreshment of seeing any of your family, or any 
 friend who may come to see you. In the after- 
 noon or evening, you may be able to read the Ser- 
 vice again; and thus you will not find Sunday a 
 tedious or a lonesome day, but will especially 
 enjoy the rest and refreshing which it offers — the 
 entire relaxation from the work of other days. 
 To many sick people, the calm and rest of this 
 holy day is peculiarly delightful. When they wake 
 in the morning, they begin to feel the difference, 
 and to give thanks that on this day the world 
 may be shut out, and other thoughts may fill up 
 the heart, without interruption from outward 
 things, or from daily domestic duties. They feel 
 refreshed in spirit, and the better enabled to go 
 on their way during the week to come, because of 
 this ‘‘day of refreshing from the presence of the 
 Lord®."’ The more a love for this dav is cul- 
 tivated, the more it will become a glad day — a 
 day to be reckoned upon all the week, and re- 
 joiced in when it comes. Thus it will become 
 the pledge and foretaste of the “ rest which re- 
 maineth® the rest which they long for. 
 
 If, at any time, you can get any one to read 
 the Service with you, it is a great help and plea- 
 ® Acts iii: 1,9. ^ Heb. iv. 9. 
 
210 
 
 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 sure ; but you will not greatly need this, if you 
 always consider yourself as in the congregation, 
 and that you are truly one of the worshippers. 
 You are not alone, “All the company of Heaven 
 laud and magnify His glorious name.” “Where- 
 fore, seeing we also are compassed about with so 
 great a cloud of witnesses, let* us lay aside every 
 weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, 
 and let us run with patience the race that is set 
 before us, looking unto Jesus the author and 
 finisher of our faith 
 
 III. 
 
 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 When first sickness comes, those who have truly 
 cared for the blessing of joining in the Holy Com- 
 munion at Church, keenly feel their absence from 
 it ; and especially when the days return for its 
 accustomed celebration, they seem more than ever 
 isolated and alone. This feeling may in part be 
 removed, and much blessing found, by reading the 
 Communion Service at the time when others are 
 engaged in that service in the Church where you 
 have been accustomed to worship ; or, if you have 
 not strength for the whole, at least read some por- 
 tion of it. 
 
 You have been accustomed to think of this as 
 merely a public service. But surely this cannot 
 be the only view of it, since the Church has ap- 
 pointed a separate service (or at least an intro- 
 ductory service) for the Communion of the Sick, 
 and thus shown that it is meant also for them. 
 
 10 Heb. xii. 1, 2. 
 
THE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 211 
 
 And a Rubric tells you, that you may eat of it 
 by faith, when you are truly hindered from doing 
 so actually. 
 
 But sick people should not be content with 
 merely thus partaking. The circumstances are 
 rare and peculiar, in which it is not their bounden 
 duty, as well as their highest privilege and bless- 
 ing, to eat of the Body, and to drink of the Blood 
 of our Lord. 
 
 Cases may occur in which they are visited by no 
 Clergyman ; still they are authorized by the Church 
 to send for him, and to ask him for this service. 
 If circumstances make it impossible to get this 
 blessing from the minister of the parish, or district, 
 at any rate leave may be obtained to ask some 
 friend, or some one through a friend, to minister to 
 you. 
 
 There are very many hindrances, and many and 
 great difficulties, which almost every sick person 
 finds on this subject. Generally speaking, most of 
 them are either groundless, or may be overcome by 
 prayer for guidance and strength. One hindrance 
 is the peculiar shyness which sick people feel in 
 mentioning their desire ; this probably is ^common 
 to almost all, and does not entirely depend on 
 natural shyness. It arises from many causes, per- 
 haps the most frequent are : a dislike to giving 
 trouble. — The fear of seeming to make too much 
 of yourself or your state. — A dislike to speaking 
 of self- and your own wishes. — A fear lest others 
 should think thereby that you are, or fancy your- 
 self, more holy than you feel that you are. — A feel- 
 ing of awkwardness. — The thought that you can- 
 not enjoy, or even take pleasure in, the service un- 
 less it were in Church. — A fear of interruptions, 
 and of not choosing a suitable time. — An idea that 
 you will wait until you are stronger ; for perhaps 
 
 p 2 
 
212 
 
 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 you may ere long go to Church again. — And, lastly, 
 the fear lest by proposing such a service, your 
 friends should be alarmed, and suppose that you 
 think yourself to be dying. 
 
 One or more of these thoughts may have haunted 
 the minds of most sick persons. 
 
 Perhaps a close examination of these difficulties 
 would prove some of them to be quite groundless. 
 It is like saying that a Clergyman is not willing to 
 do the work which his Master has given him to do, 
 if we fear that he will count such service a 
 trouble. 
 
 If it were your own desire alone, you might fear 
 the making too much of yourself, or your state. 
 But remember Who has commanded ‘‘Do this 
 in remembrance of Meh*” He said it, in the 
 upper chamber, in that last night, when already 
 His sufferings had begun. Think you, will He count 
 your obedience to His command self-indulgence ! 
 Remember what He wills, and do not think merely 
 of how your fellow-creatures may judge you. But 
 surely it is generally unreasonable to fancy such a 
 thing of them. 
 
 The dislike to speaking of self, and your own 
 wishes, may proceed too far, and become a morbid 
 feeling, which it certainly is if it hinders us from 
 doing the will of God. 
 
 Fear not lest others should think you more holy 
 than you are, but try to be as holy as He who is 
 holy would have you to be. Never mind the 
 thoughts of your fellow-creatures. “ I the Lord 
 search the heart, I try the reins of the children of 
 men May there not also be in this a mixture 
 of fear, lest you should be expected to live more 
 consistently and holily, if you thus “ show forth 
 
 1 Cor. xi. 24. 
 
 2 Jer. xvii. 10. 
 
IHE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 213 
 
 His death And is not this a device of the 
 enemy, who would hinder you hereby ? 
 
 That feeling of awkwardness is very painful, but 
 it soon wears off ; the more frequent the commu- 
 nion, the less it is felt. 
 
 It is surely true, that it is far less like commu- 
 nion in a sick room, than in the Church. For the 
 holy place, the many uniting, and all the associa- 
 tions, are the greatest help to worship : neverthe- 
 less, when Grod calls any one aside into their 
 chamber. He expects them to worship Him there 
 and not at Church, and it is there that He meets 
 with them and blesses them. They will not fail to 
 find His presence, if they really expect it and be- 
 lieve in it. The fear of interruptions, and of not 
 choosing a suitable time, can be obviated by set- 
 ting apart a special time, which is the freest from 
 interruptions, and making it a stated service at 
 that time, whether more or less frequent, according 
 to circumstances. 
 
 In merely a short illness, in which there is the 
 hope of speedy recovery, it may be well to wait 
 until you can go to Church. But in any long ill- 
 ness, and especially in a life-long sickness, it is 
 merely robbing yourself of a blessing, which you 
 never needed perhaps so much before. 
 
 The Church specifies three times in the year as 
 the least possible number for any one to commu- 
 nicate, who considers himself as a member of the 
 Church of England. Nor are sick persons ex- 
 cluded from this order, if they are members of the 
 Church. 
 
 It is easy to prevent causing alarm to your friends 
 by the proposal, if you tell them why you desire it ; 
 not from any idea of the immediate approach of 
 death, but from feeling that it is your highest duty 
 2 1 Cor. xi. 26. 
 
214 THE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 and blessing. It is a great mistake to wait until 
 your dying hour before you avail yourself of so 
 great a help in living to God, and in suffering His 
 holy will. Because it has so often been looked 
 upon in this light, people are apt to fancy that it 
 is required chiefly in cases of dangerous sickness. 
 No strength or help can be so great in a dying 
 hour ; and it is a great blessing for those who can 
 then have the comfort. But we need grace and 
 help and strength to suffer^ as well as to die : 
 whilst living, to live' unto the Lord. Surely, no 
 slight hindrance, nothing that can possibly be over- 
 come, ought to prevent us from seeking this bless- 
 ing ; from fulfilling this command of our suffering 
 and dying Lord and Master. 
 
 What He has commanded He likewise desires. 
 He says, With desire have I desired to eat this 
 passover with you^.*” He is ready, — is inviting us, 
 — and will be truly present with us. He is ready ; 
 — the unreadiness is only on our side. He is will- 
 ing ; — the unwillingness is wholly on our part. He 
 invites us ; — it is we who refuse. 
 
 The more frequently sick persons can communi- 
 cate, the less will be the feeling of strangeness and 
 inability to enjoy the Service. They will eat and 
 live; will feel strengthened to go on their weaiy, 
 painful way; will be raised above suffering by 
 “looking unto Jesus, the author and the finisher 
 of their faith ; who, for the joy that was set before 
 Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and 
 is set down on the right hand of the throne of 
 GodV’ 
 
 Thus will they best learn to “ endure as seeing 
 Him who is invisible®,’’ and to “go from strength 
 to strength, until they appear in Zion before God 
 
 ^ Luke xxii. 15. 
 6 Heb. xi. 27. 
 
 5 Heb. xii. 2. 
 
 7 Ps. Ixxxiv. 7* 
 
THE HOLY COMMUNION. 
 
 215 
 
 Let no hindrances, no fears, no delays, rob you 
 then of this your ‘‘bounden duty and service;'’ 
 
 lay aside every weight,” and ask Him to over- 
 come all difficulties in you, and for you. Look 
 upon it as a duty ; and you will soon find that it can 
 be fulfilled. Beware of suffering yourself to make 
 excuses, lest you should find that ‘‘such excuses 
 are not so easily accepted and allowed before God.” 
 If any special thing burdens your mind ; any fear 
 that some particular sin is a hindrance ; the Church 
 directs you to lay it before “some discreet and 
 learned minister of God’s word.” 
 
 Perhaps you have a fear lest your great bodily 
 weakness should prevent you from attending, and 
 that you shall but give outward worship, your 
 thoughts the mean while either wandering, or 
 being literally absent and beyond your control. Do 
 not fear this. “ He knoweth your frame, and re- 
 membereth that you are dust^” He will only 
 require and expect of you as much service and 
 attention as you are able to render, and He knows 
 how much that is, and expects no more. 
 
 Sometimes sick people have found that they 
 were raised far above their weakness, and for the 
 time, enabled to forget it. It is a good plan to 
 make it a special subject of prayer previously; to 
 ask that you may forget your body and yourself : 
 that you may forget the presence of every one, and 
 only be conscious of His presence, who has invited 
 you to meet Him, and to “eat His flesh and drink 
 His blood.” 
 
 And even, if it must be that you cannot attend 
 to the whole Service, there will be a hallowed calm 
 feeling shed around you ; and portions of it you 
 will understand and enjoy. At times the blessing 
 may be even greater to you afterwards than you 
 
 * Ps. ciii. 14. 
 
216 
 
 PRAYER FOR RECOVERY. 
 
 were aware of at the time. Do not distress your- 
 self when the Service is ended, or in time to come 
 by thinking how little power you had of attention. 
 Say rather, ‘‘ ‘ Lord, Thou knowest all things ; 
 Thou knowest that I love Thee accept my poor, 
 weak, broken service, ‘ not weighing my merits, 
 but pardoning my offences,’ for the sake of Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. Amen.” 
 
 IV. 
 
 PRAYER FOR RECOVERY. 
 
 Sick people are often perplexed by the question, 
 whether it is right to pray for recovery ? 
 
 Some people urge the duty of their doing so, as 
 if they ought to take heaven by violence';” 
 others, on the contrary, think that the doing so is 
 a proof of want of submission, — that illness is sent 
 by God, and therefore we should not wish it other- 
 wise. Most certainly, if our heavenly Father gave 
 us every thing that we ask, just because we ask 
 it, — and granted all our desires, just because He 
 would not deny us any thing, then we ought to 
 ask for nothing but what He has already given us, 
 and never to tell Him our desires, lest, when we 
 think that we are asking for ‘‘ a fish,” it should 
 prove “ a stone 
 
 Where then would be the comfort or the rest, of 
 prayer ? But as He gives us only those things that 
 are reccll^ good for us, — as He withholds every 
 thing that would prove evil to us, — as He so mer- 
 cifully denies us when we pray for things which 
 would not fulfil His gracious purposes towards us, 
 — we need not fear to tell Him all our wishes, all 
 
 ^ Jolm xxi. 17. * Matt. xi. 12. ^ Luke xi. 11. 
 
PRAYER FOR RECOVERY. 
 
 217 
 
 our desires, and to leave it to Him to grant them 
 or to deny them, as ‘‘seemeth good in His sight — 
 we may “ rest in His love as well in this as in 
 all things. It would be a great want of child-like 
 confidence to keep back any thing from Him. Let 
 us not fear to tell Him all, — to lay our wayward 
 desires before Him, and let Him teach us by His 
 discipline, whether they be good or no. Therefore, 
 if you desire to recover, do not fear to tell Him. 
 If you told it to a fellow-creature, they might say. 
 It proves a sad want of submission to have such 
 a wish,” but do not fear to tell Him, — keep no- 
 thing back from Him, — it is not sincere to do so, 
 — ‘‘He requireth truth in the inward parts 
 Ask Him in this thing also, to conform you to His 
 will, and then, surely, “ if in any thing ye be other- 
 wise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you 
 When first a person is visited with sickness, it 
 is surely a duty to pray that, if it be the will of 
 God, he may recover his bodily health. Nor in- 
 deed only then, for the Church teaches us, even at 
 the latest period of sickness, to pray, “We know, 
 0 Lord, that no word is impossible with Thee ; 
 and that if Thou wilt Thou canst even yet raise 
 him up, and grant him a longer continuance 
 amongst us.” And so in the Collect in the Service 
 for “ the Communion of the Sick,” there is a prayer 
 that “ he may recover his bodily health,” but it is 
 added, “ if it be Thy gracious will.” And this 
 seems, a fit pattern for our prayers for recovery. 
 We ought to ask it, for it would seem like an un- 
 dervaluing of life if we did not ; but we ought 
 always to ask, “ if it be Thy will,” and seek to be 
 content in whatever form the answer may come. 
 No shrinking from life, and its cares and duties, 
 
 ^ Zeph. iii. 17. 
 
 6 Phil, iii. 15. 
 
 ^ Luke X. 21. 
 5 Ps. li. 6. 
 
218 
 
 PRAYER FOR RECOVERY. 
 
 should keep us from it : no imagination that the 
 temptations of health are greater than those of 
 sickness. We must indeed be novices in sickness 
 to suppose this, and not yet to have discovered 
 that it is but a change of temptations and trials, 
 and that no one can say which are the greatest, 
 those of health or those of sickness ; for they are 
 so different that they cannot be compared. Be- 
 sides, this would be underrating the power of God, 
 who is able to strengthen us, and to “ keep us from 
 falling, under any circumstances whatsoever. It 
 is impossible, whilst life remains, ever to know that 
 any one will not recover, or that their sickness is 
 unto death but when it seems to be a case of 
 life-long sickness; when we have once and again 
 asked that the thorn may be removed ; if still, as 
 in St. PauFs case, it is not permitted to ‘‘depart 
 from’’ us, then let us be contented with the as- 
 surance, “ My grace is sufficient for thee 
 Doubtless henceforth he was content, and only 
 asked, day by day, for the fulfilment of the pro- 
 mise, and for ability to do, and to suffer, his 
 Master’s will “ in that state of life unto which it 
 had pleased God to call ” him. The constant ask- 
 ing to have it removed, either in his or in our case, 
 would have produced a very restless, unsatisfied 
 spirit — a desire for that which it was not the will 
 of God to give. We must day by day pray that 
 God will give us the measure of grace and strength 
 which we need, to enable us to do His will. But 
 whenever you feel inclined to ask for renewed 
 health, do not check it, or fear to tell your wishes 
 to your heavenly Father, leaving it to Him to 
 grant or to deny them as He sees best for you. 
 
 ^ 2 Cor. xii. 9. 
 
PART VI. 
 
 CONVALESCENCE. 
 
 I. 
 
 ITS PLEASURES AND ITS TRIALS. 
 
 If you have ever known, in times past, the trials 
 of returning to health and life, it cannot be won- 
 dered at, that you shrink from the thought. To 
 some persons the trial is great indeed. You may, 
 at some past time in your life, have had some 
 serious illness, which threatened to take the life of 
 your body from you. You may have been told 
 that recovery was impossible, that a few short 
 hours would ‘‘end the strife.*” It may be that 
 you heard the announcement with a very thankful 
 heart, that you did not fear to die ; and that you 
 had long looked for the welcome summons. Hour 
 after hour passed away, still you were here on 
 earth, to the surprise of your Medical attendant, 
 and of all your friends. It seemed to them that 
 you could not struggle through it — you felt that 
 you were putting off your armour ; that soon all 
 temptations would be ended — all possibility of 
 sinning left behind, and that you should soon “ be 
 for ever with the Lord k*” But it pleased Him to 
 call you back to live here longer. The crisis 
 
 ^ 1 Thess. iv. 17. 
 
220 
 
 ITS PLEASURES AND ITS TRIALS. 
 
 passed ; you were told that you would now re- 
 cover your bodily health. Alas for you ! You 
 had taken leave of friends ; had done, as you 
 thought, with earth and its allurements, and must 
 you return to that ‘‘ waste howling wilderness ^ V 
 You find it a much harder thing to be content to 
 live^ than to be content and willing to die. 
 “ ‘ Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from 
 me 0 take me where I would be ; let me go 
 to Thee ; let me cease from sin ; 0 let me be at 
 rest for ever!’’ That first severe conflict has 
 ended ; you feel that God is love, and say,* Thy 
 will be done.” 
 
 Then comes the first glow of returning health; 
 the feelings of joy and exhilaration that it brings, 
 at least for a few hours or minutes of the day ; 
 for the exhaustion and consequent depression 
 must be felt also. 
 
 The delight, too, of the passing away of pain, 
 of the return of independence, and of the pleasure 
 of doing something more for yourself each day. 
 Above all the congratulations, and exceeding love 
 and kindness of friends. You did not think that 
 they cared so much for you ; that your life and 
 your love were so important to them ; you seem 
 the one object of all your friends, and you feel 
 that the delight your recovery has given them, 
 and the new knowledge you have received of their 
 love, was worth any suffering, and that you have 
 not obtained it at too great a price. 
 
 But your trial is not ended yet ; these pleasant 
 feelings, this first glow of returning health, must 
 pass away ; in exchange, you will have exceeding 
 weariness and languor, which will induce great 
 depression of spirits, a train of nervous and most 
 distressing feelings will arise out of your weakness, 
 2 Deut. xxxii. 10. ^ Matt. xxvi. 39. 
 
ITS PLEASURES AND ITS TRIALS. 
 
 221 
 
 and this again will tell upon your mind. Instead 
 of the pleasure of finding that each day you can 
 do more, for some time it will seem to you either 
 that you can do less each day, or that you are 
 stationary. You will seem to grow weaker in 
 mind and body ; you fancy that friends are less 
 loving and considerate than they were at first. 
 You forget, that though for the time of anxiety, 
 when they thought that they should have you but 
 for a few days, their usual occupations were laid 
 aside, and their thoughts centered in you ; it 
 could not always be so. You must now be con- 
 tent to have that scattered through your life, 
 which was gathered up into a short space ; to re- 
 ceive, almost unconsciously, the gentle shower of 
 love from hour to hour, instead of the full tide 
 which flowed so delightfully upon you. Alas for 
 you! You must return to the bustle and flutter 
 of life again ; all the temptations which used to 
 assault you, will return now ; you wdll have the 
 bitter trial of finding that you are just as open to 
 them as before, with, it seems to you, less strength 
 to meet them. You thought that in sickness you 
 had lost your susceptibility to them : they did not 
 assail you then ; and you did not perceive that 
 the reason of this is, that you had a change of 
 temptations, a change of trials, but not an exemp- 
 tion from them. You thought that you were 
 much more changed and renewed by illness than 
 it now appears to you is the case. Then spiritual 
 realities were ever present to you ; the world un- 
 seen seemed very near to you ; the friends who are 
 at rest seemed ever around your bed ; sometimes 
 they alone seemed to you real, and you had far 
 closer communion with them, than with those 
 about you. You thought that this state was so 
 
222 
 
 ITS PLEASURES AND ITS TRIALS. 
 
 much a part of you, that it would always last; 
 that the power of the world was gone ; the charm 
 all broken, and never to be renewed. But now, 
 the spiritual realities are becoming less real, they 
 seem daily to fade more and more from your 
 sight; the world around, by slow and imper- 
 ceptible degrees, gains its hold of you ; earthly 
 things fasten upon you ; the cares and business 
 of earth engross you : your lawful calling is fast 
 filling up your heart ; and because it is your 
 lawful calling, it is the more insinuating and 
 dangerous. 
 
 You have not recovered your full strength, — 
 every little thing takes hold, and fastens upon 
 you, — each little fatigue is a very great one to 
 you, — you become irritable and fretful, — dissa- 
 tisfied with yourself and all around ; — then you 
 look back at the time so lately gone, in which you 
 seemed so different ; — you think yourself in a far 
 worse state than you ever were, — you are very 
 deeply discouraged, — you think that friends mis- 
 understand you, — and you say, My soul is weary 
 of life And then you think that you had en- 
 tered the river, — the soles of your feet were wetted, 
 - — you went still deeper down, and yet after all you 
 were called back to life ; called back for you know 
 not how long ; and all that seemed done, must be 
 begun afresh. 
 
 You think that you shall never believe again, 
 when you are told that you are dying ; that until 
 the last enemy has actually done his work, you 
 shall be always expecting that another disappoint- 
 ment will come. 
 
 It is better to feel that the times and the 
 seasons are hidden from you ; only do not let it 
 
 4 Job X. 1. 
 
CALLED BACK TO LIFE, &C. 
 
 223 
 
 make you unwatcliful, but lead you to much more 
 earnest watching, because you know not the day 
 nor the hour when the Son of Man cometh 
 
 Much of this discouragement is physical, and 
 arises from the returning to the duties and fatigues 
 and wear of life, with a weakened body and shat- 
 tered nerves. Have patience with this state ; it 
 will pass away by degrees as strength returns; 
 impatience with it will greatly add to your trial 
 and distress. It must be, — take it as a necessary 
 humiliation, — as a proof that there is much yet to 
 be wrought in you before you are ready for the 
 Master’s presence, — lie down in quiet submission 
 to His ‘‘ Fatherly correction,” — He will teach 
 you very much by this process : if you will only 
 “ learn of Him who is meek and lowly in heart, 
 you shall find rest unto your soul®.” You needed 
 yet to be shown what was in your heart. You 
 must learn it in His way, not in your own. 
 Believe also, that by all this discipline, He is pre- 
 paring you for life ; for serving Him better, and 
 for understanding and helping your brethren more 
 than you have ever yet done. 
 
 He has work yet for you to do ; do it cheer- 
 fully and without murmuring; be very thankful 
 to be employed for Him in any way that He 
 pleases. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE BEING CALLED BACK TO LIFE WHEN DEATH 
 SEEMED NEAR, AND HOW TO BECOME CONTENT 
 WITH THIS LOT. 
 
 There are some persons who have eagerly desired 
 death during many long years : who have been 
 
 ® Mark xiii. 32. ® xi. 29. 
 
224 CALLED BACK TO LIFE, 
 
 brought very near it, even to its gates, and yet 
 have been called back to life, and learned to love 
 it. The struggle has been a very severe one : at 
 first, when they were called back, they could 
 scarcely bear the trial and its extreme disappoint- 
 ment ; they had fully thought to go ; and they must 
 stay. They thought that suffering was ended, 
 and now there is before them only a prospect of 
 its long continuance. They thought that they 
 should soon be out of the reach of temptations, 
 and they are called to return to them all. One 
 step more, and they believed that their weary pil- 
 grimage would end ; instead of which, it stretches 
 before them as a sea without a shore. 
 
 Or it may be, that they have had the expectation 
 of immediate departure, and instead of this, are 
 called to lie seemingly in the arms of death for 
 even weeks and months ; all the time, they may be 
 eagerly looking for the welcome summons, and 
 growing very impatient of the long delay. 
 
 They may, perhaps, have had very right and 
 true thoughts and desires ; they may really have 
 desired to ‘‘ depart,*’*' that they might “ be with 
 Christ V’ and not from lower motives. But even 
 in such a desire there may be an unchastened 
 eagerness, a want of entire submission, which the 
 
 Befiner '**' saw it necessary to purge out and 
 purify. He accepts, most lovingly, the desire to 
 be with Him, though He may not see fit to grant 
 it at present, but makes His children wait a little 
 longer, until their will is wholly one with His will ; 
 and what He wishes, that, and that alone, they 
 wish also. It is only for our blessing that He 
 keeps us here, for our Lord has said, ‘‘Father, I 
 will that they also, whom Thou hast given Me, be 
 with Me where I am : that they may behold My 
 
 1 Phil. i. 23. 
 
HOW TO BECOME CONTENT. 
 
 225 
 
 glory®.*” His will is to have' all His children ga- 
 thered into His presence, but His love often waits 
 long for the fulfilment, that they may be per- 
 fected. 
 
 It is often long before the soul perceives this ; 
 in the mean time it is tormented by hard thoughts 
 of God, — by impatience at the delay,— by restless- 
 ness, discontent, weariness of life, disappointment, 
 and, at times, by rebellion against His holy will. 
 But He will. not leave it thus; He will ‘‘subdue 
 our iniquities V’ bring our wills to “the 
 obedience of faith h” “Almighty God, who alone 
 can order the unruly wills and affections of sinful 
 men” will “order” yours. With some it is a 
 very long process, with others much more rapid ; 
 but that “patient waiting for Christ^” the Lord 
 alone can “ direct the heart unto.” It is not soon 
 attained, — the steps are commonly very slow, the 
 disappointments very great, — it often seems like 
 walking in very slippery weather : we seem to go 
 back as many steps as we set forward. 
 
 First, there may be an occasional willingness to 
 live, which alternates with an earnest desire to 
 die. Then, by degrees, the willingness may be 
 more stedfast and abiding, until it is clearly felt 
 and seen that God speaks, saying, “ To abide in 
 the flesh is more needful for thee^;” and the soul 
 answers, “ Having this confidence, I know that I 
 shall abide and continue.” It is this assurance of 
 the wilLof God that changes the whole mind ; nor 
 does it less change the character ; it produces a 
 quiet submission, and chastens the whole man. 
 There is no longer a struggle ; no longer the 
 sense of “JVm is His will, but that is mine; I 
 must submit, for I cannot help it, 0 that He 
 
 ® John xvii. 24. ® Micah vii. 19. ^ Rom. xvi. 26. 
 
 2 2 Thess. iii. 5. ^ Phil, j, 24, 25. 
 
 a 
 
226 
 
 CALLED BACK TO LIFE, 
 
 would will it otherwise ! It is chanD;ed to, 
 This is His will, and because it is His will, 
 therefore it is my will, — my will ever leads me 
 astray, I would cease from it for ever, and know 
 only His will, — I always find rest in this, — all 
 else is unrest to me ; I can rest in His love, and 
 tarry until He calls me.’’ 
 
 And besides the certainty of its being His will, 
 there comes also a deep sense of thankfulness to 
 be allowed to do any thing for Him ; to work in 
 any way ; be it in suffering, or whatever form the 
 work may come; to work for Him any how is 
 good and pleasant, and seems a thing to be very 
 thankful for, a great honour. The work may be 
 quite hidden, but day by day, hour by hour, it 
 will be revealed ; and the work and the strength 
 will be apportioned equally, and sent together. 
 
 Then, also, there is a deep sense of having been 
 most unfit to depart at the time when it was 
 eagerly desired. A feeling of shame and wonder, 
 too, that you could ever have thought yourself 
 ready then, when now, in looking back, you see 
 how your will was at variance with the will of 
 God ; how much you were seeking self, and ease, 
 and rest, when you thought that you were seeking 
 God. 0, how full of delusion the past seems ! at 
 times you scarcely dare to think of it ; to re- 
 member how much better you thought yourself 
 and your state than there was reason to do ; — 
 how you fancied it was well with you, when you 
 now see that it was far otherwise. You feel very 
 thankful that you were not cut off then, before 
 you knew more of God, and of yourself, before 
 your will was conformed to His will. You feel 
 now that you know nothing ; that you have no 
 idea what is the best for you ; that you would not 
 choose if you could, but like best to leave yourself 
 
HOW TO BECOME CONTENT. 
 
 227 
 
 in His hands, either to serve Him by suffering, so 
 long as He sees fit, or to return to active ser- 
 vice — that you leave the time of your departure 
 wholly to Him, seeking to have no speculations 
 about it, but to grow, day by day, in love to Him, 
 so that for your love to Him, the time shall seem 
 to you but a day. You do not want to die now; 
 you want only to have no separate will, and to 
 . lose yourself in God. 
 
 Formerly you looked on your sojourn here as 
 absence from God, — almost entire separation ; 
 you felt that you were always preparing to be 
 with Him, but yet far off from Him ; and this 
 added greatly to the weariness of life, and the 
 eagerness to die. Now, you have learned that 
 He is ever present with you, though you do not 
 always realize it. That the one object of your 
 life should be to live with Him now ^ — to feel that 
 He is “about your path and your lying down, 
 and acquainted with all your ways^*” — that you 
 never need to be alone, but may ever say, “ I am 
 not alone, for the Father is with me^” You 
 have learned, in some degree, to understand His 
 exceeding nearness to you ; His tender sym- 
 pathy ; His sharing . all your thoughts, and your 
 very heart, — that in Him all your deepest cravings 
 are satisfied, — that you will not lead a sad and 
 solitary life, because He will be always with you, 
 your “Friend"” and “Counsellor,’’’ your “Lord 
 and Master,” yea, even your “ Husband.” That 
 the more you learn of Him here, the more ready 
 you will be to enter into, and enjoy His presence 
 hereafter. That there is so much to learn about 
 Him, and about yourself here ; that you would 
 
 Q 2 
 
 * Ps. cxxxix. 3. 
 
 * John viii. 16. 
 
228 
 
 CALLED BACK TO LIFE, 
 
 fear lest you should not learn all, and should be 
 cut off only too soon, if you did not know the ex- 
 ceeding patience of your Teacher, and that His 
 love is so wonderful, that He will have you to be 
 ‘‘conformed to His image®."” 
 
 At times you have feared lest there should be 
 something wrong in this change of mind. You 
 have feared lest it proved a diminution of your 
 love to Him, and that you desire less to be with 
 Him. But it is far otherwise ; and you haye the 
 deepest reason to give thanks that you have at 
 length been brought into this state, though you 
 may have passed through fearful conflicts ere you 
 attained to it. 
 
 Remember, too, that however confirmed this 
 state of mind may seem, it is subject to fluctua- 
 tion, and that very sudden temptations to im- 
 patience and repining may seize you, and take the 
 more hold upon you from their coming unawares. 
 There is no state on this side the grave in which 
 we must cease to stand upon our “ watch tower."” 
 “ Watch ye and pray, lest ye enter into tempta- 
 tion “ Watch thou in all things, endure afflic- 
 tions 
 
 “Work your work betimes, and in His time 
 He will give you your reward 
 
 You will find work enough to do, if you will but 
 be constantly looking up to God to give you your 
 hourly portion of it ; and to show you what He 
 would have you to do ; and if you are constantly 
 looking out for it. It will come to you probably 
 in bearing and forbearing; in little acts of self- 
 denial; in helping others, in ways for which you 
 will get no credit ; for theirs will be the seen, and 
 
 ® Rom. viii. 29. ^ Mark xiv. 38. 
 
 * 2 Tim. iv. 5. ^ Ecclus. li. 30. 
 
HOW TO BECOME CONTENT. 
 
 229 
 
 yours the unseen, work in the continual renun- 
 ciation of your own will; — and livinp^ for others 
 instead of for yourself. All that you have learned 
 in your sharper sickness ; all that you are learning 
 now in its lengthened effects of weakness, so great 
 as to disable you from the delights of active ser- 
 vice ; will greatly assist you in what now lies before 
 you. 
 
PART VII. 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE FEAR OF DEATH, AND THE FEAR 
 TAKEN AWAY. 
 
 There are some persons who have never known 
 the fear of death; they have often seemed to be 
 very nearly dying, but they have always rejoiced ; 
 they have hailed the Angel of death. as a bright 
 presence, they have spoken of death as a joyful 
 prospect ; of death itself as “ beautiful.'” They 
 have never had any sympathy with those who have 
 spoken fearfully of it ; they have thought it either 
 want of moral courage, or great want of faith, or a 
 proof of earthliness of heart; they have said hard 
 words, or indulged in hard thoughts of others. 
 They say that they cannot understand how any 
 one can fear death. But their turn is come at 
 last ! ‘‘ Fearfulness and trembling are coming upon 
 them ^ now, their ‘‘ heart is sore pained, and 
 withered like grass*.*” 0 how their hard words 
 about others come back upon them now ! 
 
 Perhaps there may be no particular cause at 
 present for this ‘‘sudden fear."** You may not be 
 more ill than you have been, nothing may have 
 occurred to stir up such thoughts ; but you find 
 1 Ps. Iv. 5. 2 ps. cii. 4. 
 
FEAR OF DEATH, &C. 
 
 231 
 
 suddenly, that it has seized upon your whole soul, 
 there is no escape from it ; death has fastened his 
 eye upon you, there is no escaping the fixedness of 
 his searching look. Y ou mmt meet it ; and for 
 the first time it makes you quail. You have often 
 met it before, why then should you fear to meet it 
 now? You cannot tell. It comes to you as a 
 perfectly new apparition. It is its exceeding and 
 indescribable vagueness that terrifies you. You 
 feel that something is going to seize upon you, to 
 grasp you, but what is quite unknown ; no one can 
 tell you much about it, for no one has returned to 
 tell what they passed through. You seem to be 
 going all alone, and you tremble at the exceeding 
 loneliness. “ A horrible dread®’’ hath overtaken 
 you ; your ‘‘ whole nature, both in body and in 
 soul, trembles to its very centre.” 
 
 The consciousness of personal sinfulness : a 
 sense of unfitness to meet God, our unreadiness to 
 die, a multitude of personal faults, evil tempers, 
 thoughts, and inclinations : the recollection of in- 
 numerable sins, of great omissions and lukewarm- 
 ness in all religious duties, the little love and gra- 
 titude we have to God, and the great imperfection 
 of our repentance ; all these make us tremble at 
 the thought of going to give up our account. W e 
 feel as if it were impossible we could be saved.” 
 
 “ When we come, as it were, into the range and 
 presence of death, our whole consciousness is pene- 
 trated with a sense of sin. We see not only the 
 evil we have done, but the good we have left un- 
 done. And the good, if so be, that we have striven 
 to do, we seem to see for the first time revealed 
 by some strange and searching light, in which all 
 looks blemished, marred, and sullied.” 
 
 3 Ps. Iv. 5. 
 
232 
 
 FEAR OF DEATH, 
 
 Let sin but drive you closer to His Cross ; give 
 up yourself, your sin, your will into His hands. 
 
 He will not leave you to yourself. He will not 
 forsake you. He is near, that justifieth me ; who 
 will contend with me ? let us stand together : who 
 is mine adversary ? let him come near to me. Be- 
 hold, the Lord God will help me ; who is he that 
 shall condemn me ^ V 
 
 Let us ask again, Who, then, shall separate 
 me ? There is none that can. Though all powers 
 of hell be against me for my unutterable guilt, all 
 holy powers are on my side. God the Father loves 
 me, and gave His Son for me ; God the Son loves 
 me, and gave Himself for me. God the Holy 
 Ghost loves me, and has regenerated, prevented, 
 restrained, converted me ; the ever-blessed Trinity 
 loves me, and desires my salvation ; all heavenly 
 powers and all holy angels love and rejoice over 
 one penitent soul. The whole world unseen is 
 benign and blessed, full of love to sinners, ‘ of whom 
 I am chief.’ I give myself into the hands of a 
 boundless love : as an infinite misery, I cast myself 
 upon an infinite mercy. This is my only stay, but 
 it is all-sufficing.’’ 
 
 But though some may desire death, others may 
 shrink from it to their inmost souls ; they may de- 
 sire life under any form of suffering, rather than 
 to meet death. In some minds there is an instinc- 
 tive, a natural fear of death ; from which they are 
 all their lifetime subject to bondage ®.” The very 
 idea of death is a terror to them ; they can scarcely 
 bear to hear the subject mentioned ; they have 
 tried by faith and earnest prayer to overcome this 
 dread ; but all their lifetime it abides with them 
 until they are brought into the very presence of 
 death. Then generally, either the fear is removed, 
 ^ Isa. 1. 8, 9. • 5 Heb. ii. 15. 
 
THE FEAR TAKEN AWAY. 
 
 233 
 
 or the soul that has been ever dreading the last 
 hour, passes out of life unknowingly, and without 
 suffering of body or mind. There may be instances 
 to the contrary, but they are rare. All the prayers 
 offered day by day that the fear of death might be 
 removed, are answered now ; they were not in vain, 
 they were heard, and were not forgotten before 
 God. Very many persons have a peculiar dread of 
 a last illness ; they know that it must come ; but 
 0 how their soul shrinks from it ! They would 
 like to die suddenly, to escape it all. Is it the fear 
 of pain that makes you afraid ? the thought that 
 then, when the last hour is drawing nigh, pain 
 will put forth its full strength : a strength that you 
 have never known before ; and does your whole 
 soul shrink from this? He who said, ‘‘ Father, if 
 it be possible, let this cup pass from me V’ knows 
 and understands your fear. 
 
 He tasted the fear and shrinking from death, 
 that He might understand it all, and that not one 
 of His children might ever pass through it alone. 
 Is it the helplessness of those last hours ? the un- 
 speakable suffering, which no heart but your own 
 can share or realize, that distresses you ? the possi- 
 bility of doing or saying something wrong that 
 haunts you ? of being unable, through broken 
 speech, to convey your meaning ? Fear not ; there 
 is One who knows and understands it all ; who 
 looks at your thoughts and intentions, and looks 
 into your heart the most tenderly, when He knows 
 that none else can. You have given yourself to 
 Him. Fear not ; He will not leave you at the last 
 hour, for He has called you to it, and He will lead 
 you through it. He said, ‘‘ I have a Baptism to 
 be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be 
 accomplished It was accomplished in Him : 
 
 ® Matt. xxvi. 39. ^ Luke xii. 50, 
 
234 
 
 FEAR OF DEATH, &C. 
 
 and when He said, ‘‘ It is finished V’ then the 
 loneliness of the deepest darkness of death was 
 finished for each of His followers. He will come 
 to fetch you ; trust yourself to' Him who says, 
 Lo, I am with thee alway Let not your 
 
 heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid It is 
 in vain for you to think what you would like best 
 — God will choose for you : and be sure that He 
 will choose the very best thing for you — that which 
 you will hereafter see was the best. Do not judge 
 of your state by your desire for death or for life ; 
 it is a dangerous and false criterion. For those to 
 whom life has been very sweet ; who have enjoyed 
 it; who have many ties — especially the nearest 
 and closest ties, husband or wife or children; — 
 who see a fair and bright prospect before them, 
 and have comforts and blessings innumerable 
 around them ; — it is a very difficult thing to give 
 up all with a willing and glad heart, or even, with 
 the whole soul, to say, Thy will be done.” 
 
 Whilst to others whose ties are few, and their 
 prospects dark ; who have none depending on 
 them, and none ‘‘ who loves them best,” it may be 
 very easy to be willing, and thankful to lay aside 
 the weary worn-out body. No one ought, in the 
 one case, to say that it is sinful not to be more 
 desirous to depart; or in the other, that it is a 
 proof of readiness and submission to wish to go. 
 
 You sometimes, perhaps, say to your friends, 
 ‘‘Do not pray for my life.” But ought you to 
 have such a choice ? Is it not better to pray God 
 to give us life or death, sickness or health, as it 
 pleases Him? 
 
 It has been sometimes spoken of as a proof of a 
 desire for, and readiness to depart, when these 
 words have been said ; but surely it is a higher state 
 * John xix. 30. ^ Matt, xxviii. 20. ^ John xiv. 1. 
 
PUBLICITY OF A DEATH-BED. 
 
 235 
 
 to leave all to Him, and scarcely to know yourself 
 which you wish. We are poor judges but let lis 
 leave off to judge each other, and leave it to Him 
 who has “ appointed a set time ^ ” to each of us, and 
 will “remember’’ us. And for ourselves, let the 
 true language of our hearts be — 
 
 ‘‘ Let me never choose, 
 
 Or to live or die. 
 
 Bind or bruise, 
 
 In Thy hands I lie. 
 
 ‘‘ For my blinded choice 
 Like myself would be, 
 
 I rejoice 
 
 That Thou choose for me.” 
 
 II. 
 
 THE PUBLICITY OF A DEATH-BED, AND THE 
 TEMPTATION TO CHOOSE THE CIRCUMSTANCES 
 OF IT. 
 
 It is not only death, that some people fear, but 
 there is a peculiar shrinking from the sort of pub- 
 licity of a death-bed. How often they think, “ If 
 I might but die in the night ; or if there were but 
 one person with me; 6r only one friend, and a 
 pastor to commend my soul to God, then to die 
 would seem much easier ; but I dread the distrac- 
 tion of thought that the presence of many may 
 produce — their very weeping and sorrow will fill 
 my thoughts, and oppress and sadden my mind. 
 I feel as if I could not bear it. Then, too, I fear 
 lest I should be tempted to speak any thing 
 merely to give them pleasure, or for words to be 
 
 2 Job xiv. 13. 
 
236 
 
 PUBLICITY OF A DEATH-BED. 
 
 remembered — I fear lest they should be words, 
 I fear, too, lest I should at the last dishonour my 
 Lord and Master, who has ‘fed me all my life 
 long I fear, too, lest at the last there should 
 be impatience, or evil words, even in delirium, 
 when those fearful pains come which will separate 
 the soul from the body.” > 
 
 These are most natural fears indeed, and are 
 not inconsistent with true faith. These fears are 
 not peculiar to you. From the intuitive know- 
 ledge of the wants of all her children, the Church 
 teaches us to pray — “ Thou knowest. Lord, the 
 secrets of our hearts ; shut not Thy merciful ears 
 to our prayer ; but spare us, Lord most holy, O 
 God most mighty, O holy and merciful Saviour, 
 Thou most worthy Judge eternal, suffer us not at 
 our last hour, for* any pains of death to fall from 
 Thee.” We may offer this prayer continually now, 
 and may be sure that it will be answered to us 
 when the time of need actually arrives. 
 
 Beware of the temptation to choose the circum- 
 stances of your death. You cannot choose if you 
 would. You will be just where your heavenly 
 Father sees fit. He will call you by night or by 
 day ; alone or in company ; sleeping or waking, 
 as “ seeiheth good in His sight ^ leave it all to 
 Him. Do not revolve the possible circumstances, 
 or pains, or words. Do not judge from your 
 present symptoms what turn they must take, what 
 suffering they must bring. All things may be 
 wholly changed : another illness may be the ap- 
 pointed messenger to call you away. You may 
 be in a place in which you never yet have been ; 
 with persons whom you never yet saw. It is use- 
 less to speculate upon it, or to distress your mind 
 with forms of trial which may never come nigh 
 3 Gen. xlviii. 15. Luke x. 21. 
 
EIGHT WAY OF VIEWING DEATH. 237 
 
 unto you. Of this be sure, that you will not be 
 alone, for The Father will be with"” you 
 
 III. 
 
 THE RIGHT WAY OF VIEWING DEATH. 
 
 Yes, it is most awful to meet death, because 
 death is the ‘‘w^ages of sin®,’’ and to meet that 
 last full judgment with nothing to offer in return, 
 but the very thing which has brought the punish- 
 ment — sin itself. By one man sin entered into 
 the world, and death hj sin ; and so death passed 
 upon all men^” But is there no other way of 
 looking on death? Yes, there is; ‘‘Thanks be 
 to God which giveth us the victory through our 
 Lord J esus Christ ®.” 
 
 “ He hath overcome the sharpness of death, and 
 opened the kingdom of Heaven to all believers.” 
 And He who is our Judge, is also our Saviour. 
 “ His name shall be called Jesus, for He shall save 
 His people from their sins ®.” He has said, “ 0 
 death, I will be thy plague “ I have ransomed 
 thee from the power of death.” “ 0 death, where 
 is thy sting ? 0 grave, where is thy victory ^ ?” 
 
 “ Fear not, for I am with thee He has passed 
 through death. “ He tasted death for every 
 man ^ He has redeemed it from its loneliness ; 
 from henceforth no one can go dowm into death 
 alone ; for even there shall “ Thy hand lead me, 
 
 ^ John xvi. 32. ® Rom. vi. 23. ^ Rom. v. 12. 
 
 ^ 1 Cor. XV. 57 . ^ Matt. i. 21. ^ Hosea xiii. 14. 
 
 2 1 Cor. XV. 55. ^ Isa. xli. 10. ^ Heb. ii. 2. 
 
238 RIGHT WAY OF VIEWING DEATH. 
 
 and Thy right hand shall uphold me He is 
 
 near that justifieth thee He is the companion 
 o£ every one whom He calls into the dark valley. 
 “Yea, though I. walk through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, I will fear no evil : for Thou art 
 with me ; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort 
 me 
 
 All the weariness and languor of dying, all its 
 unutterable pains, all its exceeding vagueness, all 
 its fears and temptations, all its darkness and 
 dreariness, He passed through. He knows every 
 step of the way, and He comes to fetch each one 
 Himself. He “ carries them on His shoulders re- 
 joicing it is a “land that no man passeth 
 through V’ ^ way in which no one can truly help 
 another ; yet He who has gone every step of the 
 way knows the way Himself, and He will conduct 
 each child of His safely through it. Fear not to 
 go down with Him into the dark river ; it may 
 prove boisterous for a season ; the waves may 
 threaten to drown you ; but fear not, He is with 
 you. “ He will hold you by your right hand, 
 saying unto you. Fear not 
 
 Whatever weakness you may be called to pass 
 through, He will be the “ strength of your heart 
 He will sustain thee, however the body may fail. 
 
 In the deepest weakness you will meet strength 
 such as you never knew before, for the Almighty 
 Lord will be with you, and strengthen you. You 
 will never know the fulness of His strength, until 
 you know your utmost weakness ; then shall His 
 “ strength be made perfect in your weakness 
 
 The way is very short, shorter than you can 
 
 5 Ps. cxxxix. 10. ® Isa. 1. 8. ^ Ps. xxiii. 4. 
 
 ® Luke XV. 5, ^ Jer. ii. 6. ^ Isa. xU. 13. 
 
 2 Ps. Ixxiii. 26. ^ 2 Cor. xii. 9. 
 
RIGHT WAY OF VIEWING DEATH. 239 
 
 imagine, until you reach the end. You will surely 
 find that a ‘‘ highway shall be there for He 
 with whom and in whom you walk, is the ‘‘ Way.” 
 Walk in that way, and in a little while you shall 
 “ come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy 
 upon your head. You shall obtain joy and glad- 
 ness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away 
 
 You shall be delivered from the burden of the 
 flesh,” and be in ‘‘joy and felicity” for ever. 
 “ And God shall wipe away all tears from your 
 eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither 
 sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more 
 pain ; for the former things have passed away ®.” 
 
 * Isa. XXXV. 8. 
 
 ® Isa. XXXV. 10. 
 
 Rev. xxi. 4. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 OF 
 
 SUGGESTIONS TO PERSONS IN ATTENDANCE 
 
 ON 
 
 Cilc antf JSguTg* 
 
 It is generally supposed that, in the states of 
 exhaustion to which some sick people are liable, 
 the mind is in as torpid a state as is the body. 
 But this is by no means the case. There may be 
 such entire loss of bodily power, that the sick 
 person may be unable to move hand or foot, or by 
 the utmost effort to make any movement of the 
 lips, or sign of any kind. Even medical men, with 
 their more exact means of judging of the state, 
 may suppose it to be one of entire unconscious- 
 ness. In short faintings or in epileptic fits, this 
 is usually the case ; but it is otherwise in the long 
 and w^eary attacks of exhaustion to which some 
 persons are subject. At such times, when life 
 seems ebbing fast, the mind is often more undis- 
 turbed, and able to hold closer converse with the 
 world unseen, than when the eyes are opened to 
 the world around. 
 
 It may not be any act of continued prayer, but 
 a perfect sense of the presence of God ; of resting 
 in His love ; a consciousness of death being 
 brought very near ; the world unseen close at 
 
SUGGESTIONS, &C. 
 
 241 
 
 hand ; of life passing away, and of yielding up the 
 body, soul, and spirit into the hands of the 
 faithful Creator All this, and much more may 
 be passing between the soul and God, when the 
 friends beside the bed think that the mind is in- 
 active. 
 
 This being the case, it is of great consequence 
 that nurses and attendants should know the fact, 
 and thereby learn how to treat the patient. 
 
 I. They should say nothing in the room, which 
 they would not wish the sick person to hear, or 
 would not say to them at another time. For it is 
 certain in all states (excepting in cases of deaf- 
 ness), that hearing is the sense that last goes, and 
 first returns. 
 
 \ 
 
 II. They should avoid needlessly disturbing or 
 troubling the patient. Very little can be done in 
 such cases. Gently applying restoratives to the 
 forehead and nostrils ; putting hot bottles to the 
 feet ; rubbing the hands and feet if they are 
 numbed or cold (but avoiding this when they are 
 not, and also all touching of the person, as it often 
 causes distress, and a great sense of additional 
 fatigue) ; and if possible, with a spoon, giving 
 stimulants. Besides these things nothing can be 
 done ; therefore, no course remains but quiet 
 waiting with patience, and occasionally attempting 
 afresh to minister in these ways. 
 
 III. Much may be done for the comfort and 
 soothing of a person in this state, by some one 
 who is beside them either occasionally reading a 
 Collect, or a verse of Holy Scripture, or repeating 
 a few words ; but this must be done mry slowly^ 
 
 * 1 Pet. iv. 19. 
 
 R 
 
242 SUGGESTIONS TO PERSONS IN ATTENDANCE 
 
 distinctly^ with intervals ; not in a whisper or in a 
 loud voice, but clearly and calmly, and the sen- 
 tences very short. No one can tell the comfort 
 of this, without having had it tried in their own 
 case. 
 
 IV. Questions should rarely be asked, and as 
 soon as it is seen that they cannot be answered, it 
 should be said : Do not try to answer me, I see 
 you cannot ’ otherwise, a sense is left on the mind 
 of something undone which ought to be attempted, 
 and the impossibility becomes painful. 
 
 When a question is asked, it should not be 
 done suddenly, but the hand gently touched or 
 taken hold of whilst speaking. 
 
 V. When a person is recovering, it should not 
 be attempted to make them speak soon ; a few 
 gentle words, perhaps of thankfulness for their 
 being better, should be said, but no effort called 
 for, and the utmost quietness observed for a long 
 time afterwards. 
 
 Excepting the last sentences, all that has been 
 said, it is believed, applies equally to the case of 
 most dying persons. Often weakness and exhaus- 
 tion is so great, that scarcely a sign of life can be 
 given. 
 
 Friends are eager to hear some last words, and, 
 if not that, at least to receive some sign of faith, 
 or hope, or love. Perhaps some question is asked 
 as to the hope that is in them, and it is said, If 
 you cannot answer, press my hand.” Perhaps the 
 effort is made — the request is fulfilled — it may 
 have cost a very great effort to the dying person ; 
 it may have distracted their thoughts very pain- 
 fully to make this effort, and thus have withdrawn 
 them in part from communion with God, and with 
 
ON THE SICK AND DYING 
 
 243 
 
 the world unseen. And why was this asked? 
 Because we are apt to ‘‘ seek after a sign 
 Whereas, the life is the true evidence, and not the 
 mere state when the soul is passing out of con- 
 sciousness. The holiest souls may have a last 
 conflict with sin ; they may be spoken to at that 
 moment ; they may utter words which will give no 
 comfort to their friends to think upon. Leave 
 them to God to teach them ; leave it to Him to 
 give them the words to speak, if thereby they shall 
 glorify His Name. ^ If they can speak, they surely 
 will; if not, trust their silence to Him in faith, 
 for He can interpret it. If they cannot have the 
 help and comfort of the presence and ministra- 
 tions of a pastor, you may help them greatly by 
 speaking to them words of prayer or Holy Scrip- 
 ture ; not chiefly words of soothing or of mere 
 comfort. Speak to them of sin, of pardon, of 
 ‘Hhe blood of Christ which cleanseth from all 
 sin®,*” of the name of Jesus, of the love of Christ 
 to sinners, of Him who hath overcome the 
 sharpness of death, and opened the kingdom of 
 heaven to all believers,” of His victory over sin, of 
 
 death having no more dominion over them^.” 
 If they can speak and say words to you, they 
 surely will ; if not, trust them to God, and it shall 
 be well with them and with you also. Remember, 
 that to the question ‘‘ When shall I come to 
 appear before the presence of God ® ?” the answer 
 has been given, Behold, I stand at the door and 
 knock It is a moment full of awe ; therefore 
 be careful not to come between that soul and 
 God — not to hinder it from hearing His voice. 
 He has taken the soul apart. He is speaking; 
 therefore ‘‘ let your words be few If any 
 
 2 Mark viii. 12, ^1 John i. 7* * Rom. vi. 9. 
 
 * Ps. xlii. 2. ® Rev. iii. 20. ^ Eccles. v. 2. 
 
 R 2 
 
244 SUGGESTIONS TO PERSONS IN ATTENDANCE 
 
 sounds can reach the ear now, if any words can 
 touch the heart, they will be His words and not 
 yours. Speak only in His words, and not your 
 own. The soul is about to be left alone with 
 God: suffer it, then, to draw nigh to Him, and to 
 commit itself to Him, and to lie down in His arms 
 in peace. 
 
 But you will perhaps say, We may learn so 
 much by the words of the dying, — a death-bed is 
 so edifying."” Yes, it is so if God speaks by them, 
 not otherwise ; and doubt not, but earnestly be- 
 lieve, that, if He has yet words for them to say. 
 He will give them the power to speak, and also 
 the words ; and then they will come with power to 
 your hearts. But leave it to Him, do not inter- 
 fere with His work. 
 
 Do not put too much dependence on those last 
 words : they may be only the dying words of mor- 
 tal agony ; they may be groans which can, or which 
 cannot be uttered. It is not in this way that you 
 are to look for a blessing from death-beds. Look 
 at death as the “ wages of sin V’ as a bitter and 
 awful sentence which has been passed upon all 
 men. 
 
 Then look at it as that which Christ came to 
 conquer, so that we may say : “ Thanks be to God 
 who giveth us the victory, through Jesus Christ 
 our Lord®."” 
 
 Look at it also as that to which you must come 
 yourself, that for which you must make prepa- 
 ration. 
 
 Look at it as a time of near and solemn com- 
 munion with God, when you are called to go down 
 with another into the valley of the shadow of 
 death. 
 
 At the river you must part company, and leave 
 ® Rom. vi. 23. ® 1 Cor. xv. 57. 
 
ON THE SICK AND DYING. 
 
 245 
 
 the soul of your brother or sister in the hands of 
 Jesus, who has ‘‘tasted death for every man^*” 
 and will carry each soul safely into His own king- 
 dom. 
 
 Look at it as bringing you very near to the 
 world unseen, as opening a door in heaven for you : 
 it will be your fault if it is ever again closed. Look 
 at it as teaching you the meaning of the words you 
 so often say : “ I believe in the Holy Catholic 
 Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness 
 of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life 
 everlasting.” 
 
 ^ Heb, ii. 9. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 GILBERT AND RIVINGTON, PRINTERS, ST. JOHN’s S'^UARE, LONDOK. 
 
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