I said, "O, you are not dead!" He answered,
"No!" and I cried aloud, "O, Mr. Stoddard is not dead!" and my own
voice awoke me. How favored those of you are who see the face of our
beloved friend!
MUNNY.
Still later, she writes to her teacher, who was again at Seir,
during the sickness of Harriette Stoddard, whose death occurred
March 16th, 1857.
Though it is a time of anguish, yet, blessed be God, he has given us
One to whom we may look for comfort. A thousand thanks to the
Saviour that he does not chastise us by taking away the Holy Spirit.
Though the discipline is bitter, yet it is mingled with love, in
that the Lord comes by death among his own, and by his Spirit to
those who have not known him, that he may make them his own also.
What grief would the lovers of the Lord have, if you now sat by the
bedside of a sister of whom we had no evidence that her heart was
purified by a Saviour's blood? If you are so distressed about one
whom you trust your Father Is taking to rest in the bosom of his
Son, how would you feel if she were one of those who, as soon as the
breath left her body, would dwell with everlasting burnings! How
thankful we should be that it is not the bed of one of these!
I have never seen such a trying year; but I do not believe it is for
the harm of those that fear the Lord.
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