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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.
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