Chapter III
IN the fifth month Alice paid a visit to her “sister cousin” who resided in Philadelphia. These visits were always seasons of great enjoyment to her, and at this time the cousins were particularly interested in the subject of the Christian’s growth and advancement in the divine life. They felt that although conscious of pardon and peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, they still did not realise that continual victory over sin and deadness to it which they saw in the Scriptures to be the Christian’s birthright. During this visit they earnestly sought to find out the secret of the life of victory and triumph realised by the apostles and early Christians. The blessed truth of a present practical sanctification by faith — Christ made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption — was much opened to their understanding. Alice especially seemed to receive this truth into her heart, and very largely in her after experience realised the joy and peace of taking Christ to be to her, not only her justification from all the guilt of sin, but also her sanctification from its present dominion and power. Her letters for some years dwell much upon this subject, and all who knew her felt the quiet influence of a life that had become to a great degree “hid with Christ in God.” Still her experience in this respect was not an unwavering one, owing to many adverse influences, and chiefly to the reasonings of some very dear friends, through which her intellectual understanding of this subject became clouded; and this, reacting on her experience, caused her somewhat to decline from her early power and joy, and her letters make less and less mention of it. But she seems never to have lost the experience entirely, and always found far more rest and strength in a simple trusting to Christ for the supply of all her needs, than many of the believers with whom she associated.
In the latter part of her life the Lord graciously restored to her a knowledge of His perfect salvation, as will be noticed in the course of this narrative.
“May 19, 1859.
“My Darling Carrie, —
...” I did have such a nice time in the city last week, it refreshed my spirits so much. I brought ‘The Higher Christian Life ’ home with me, but I have not yet finished ‘Adelaide Newton.’
“I long to tell thee all about my visit, but I don’t
know how to begin. I was at M ’s Bible-class twice,
and enjoyed it exceedingly; beautiful thoughts dropped from his lips like a shower of diamonds, and the only trouble was, you could not gather them all, they fell so fast. The sanctification of the Christian was the subject which occupied almost all of our private conversation, and, as it is the one which has engaged my thoughts much of late, I was intensely interested, and I do hope I have been profited.
“I saw Mrs K, the Methodist lady, who is so
entirely dedicated to the service of Christ. We went to a prayer-meeting at her house, where she spoke beautifully. The subject was giving ourselves up entirely to do the will of our Father, without even asking why we, instead of another, are called to do that work, just as if He would require us to do anything for which He would not give us the needed strength; we ought not to linger, but jump quickly and gladly, never doubting Him, but considering it a privilege to be a tool in the hands of one so mighty. I can, of course, give thee no idea of what she said, it was so comforting and encouraging, and still showing very plainly what a mean thing it is to doubt. She made me despise myself more than ever.
“I had a class of boys out at the Refuge last first day morning, and found great comfort in speaking of Christ to them; although my words were imperfect, the truth I felt to be mighty.
“And now, dear, that He may ‘sanctify us wholly’ is the earnest prayer of thy loving Alice.”
Frequent mention is made in the letters which follow of visits to” I ’s v and other families living
in the neighbourhood. On the side of the hill just below Tswedelle were several little cottages which Alice often used to visit, and where her presence was welcomed with delight. In one of these families particularly, she took a great interest. It consisted
of a man, “I,” and his wife and child. They
were much interested in hearing her read and explain the Scriptures, and her earnest pleadings with them to attend without delay to their soul’s best interests seemed to awaken them to a sense of its paramount importance. Previous to Alice’s visits they were not in the habit of going to any place of worship, but afterwards they became constant attenders. At one time Alice had strong hopes that the wife had experienced a change of heart, but subsequently had reason to fear that in both the man and his wife the word of life was like the good seed sown on stony ground and among thorns.
All the neighbours and poor families living near Tswedelle speak of Alice with great affection. One said to her sister, who was visiting her in her cottage a short time after Alice’s death, at the same time turning away her face to hide the falling tears, “Her death was one of those mysterious providences for which we cannot account. She was a great loss to the neighbourhood.” Many such remarks have been made by those who now miss her bright face and affectionate interest in both their temporal and spiritual welfare. In the following letter to her sister Carrie, “I” is first mentioned: —
“Tswedelle, Jane 19, 1859.
...” I felt very drowsy in meeting this morning. I do think I tried with all my human strength to resist it, but all of no avail; then I made up my mind that there was some way for me to get rid of it, as it certainly was not the Lord’s will for me to sleep, and, as I had found it utterly impossible to do it myself, He would certainly take it away if I asked with faith. So I asked not only to be kept from drowsiness, but to be made to think just what He would have me to think; and, indeed, dear Carrie, I never had a meeting when I seemed so near to Christ; I could not feel sleepy any more, my heart was so busy praising Him. I seemed to come to the conclusion, without any effort of thought on my part, that it was my
duty to present the truth to I ’s family I do not
know what made me even think of them, but I could not feel a doubt as to my duty...
“After tea I went, and found his wife washing up the tea things. I sat down and commenced to talk, and was in the midst of reading the third chapter of
John when I came in, and then I presented the
Gospel. They seemed to like to hear; said they knew they were doing wrong in putting off religion until they should have more time. I told them they were neglecting the only thing that could ever make them happy. I tried to show them Jesus Christ as the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I think I set forth Christ and nothing else, and urged them to accept Him now while they had the time and opportunity. The beautiful plan of salvation never seemed so dear to me as when I was telling them about it. They invited me to come again next Sabbath, and I intend going if nothing happens to prevent. I gave them my little ‘Come to Jesus, and I hope they will read it.
“Pray for me, dear, that I may be enabled not only to see my duty, but to do it with a real love for it.
“I feel that there is one person before whom I must lay the truth more fully than I have ever done. Oh, may the Lord enable me to do it just as He would have me to do it, with great humbleness, meekness, and gentleness, that I may not injure the cause by any appearance of setting myself up above others!”
ilJune% 1S59.
“Did I tell thee, dear, that father brought me an
invitation from Miss to meet a few friends
there to tea on third day. I felt uncertain as to how large a company it would be, and fortunately met
Miss at Mrs B ’s that afternoon. I found
it was to be quite a large dancing party, and so declined, on the plea that I never intend to go to any more dancing parties or even large companies of any kind. They evidently thought it very strange, but I am glad that I got off on the true ground.
... “I do hope, my precious sister, that thou mayest be enabled to see thy duty clearly with regard
to the work at M, and that thou mayest have
strength given thee from the only true Source to labour faithfully in His cause. Remember that ‘His strength is made perfect in our weakness, and if He has anything for us to do, He will certainly fit us for it j we ought not to doubt it for a moment.
“I cannot write more now; but do write to me and strengthen me. With an earnest prayer that we may both be kept in the full light of the Sun of Righteousness, I remain, very lovingly, thy sister,
“Alice.”
To K W. S.
“Tswedelle, July 1, 1S59. “I have thought of thee much, dear H-I know thou hast a very responsible position to fill, and if thou wast alone I should indeed tremble for thee; but I know that He who has all power is simply using thee as an instrument to accomplish His own work, and oh, it is such a comfort to think that as a carpenter does not send his chisel or hammer to do a piece of work, and stand at a distance to watch it, but carefully guides it with his own hand, and it is his skill and power that accomplishes the work, so our great Master does not send His tools to work away from Him, but comes and is Himself the power and skill needed. Surely we should not think it modesty in the poorest tool in the sculptor’s studio, should he choose to use it on his finest marble, to refuse on the ground that the end could not be accomplished with it; would it not rather be doubting its master’s skill and judgment? The more we realise this, the more our minds will be at rest regarding any labour we may be called to perform.”...
“>^3, 1S59.
‘- My own Dear Carrie, —
...” I am sitting in my bay window j it is just after sunset, and the wind, which blows very cool and strong from the west, is bending and tossing about the soft green tree-tops in the woods in the most fascinating and graceful manner, making a delightful, wavy, rustling sound, that really reminds one of the ocean. How lovely our Lord has made everything.
li I have been thinking about holiness, dear Carrie, and I have trembled at the thought of expecting to be kept from sin; but we know that our Master never tells us to do what we cannot do, and He will Himself give us strength to do all things. He says, ‘There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able, but will with the temptation also make a way of escape that ye may be able to bear it.’ I do believe, Carrie, that we may fail through unbelief and forgetfulness; but then we must always come right back to the blood of cleansing, and promise, through Christ strengthening us, never to do so again. I do not know how to explain myself, but at first I thought that if I should once fall I would never be able to try again, but now I see that it would simply be because I did not have faith enough; so all we must do is to seek for more faith, and keep nearer to Jesus, our strength....
“I have been talking with M (the coachman)
about Jesus; he says he never prays but in church, but he said he would pray Jesus to give him a new heart, that he might love and serve Him. I wish he really would do it, but I am afraid he will forget
“I have a whole heartful to say to thee, darling, but I will only enclose a little piece of poetry I have been enjoying very much. I alter the last two lines of the first verse: —
‘Father, I know that all my life
Is portioned out for me,
And the changes that are sure to come
I do not fear to see;
For every one will only bring
Me nearer home to Thee;
“instead of
‘But I ask Thee for a present mind Intent on pleasing Thee.’” I only change it because it gives me more comfort my way. I enjoy saying it over to myself so much.
“Carrie, dear, there is one thing which I must tell thee, and that is, if thou wants to receive much grace, thou must pray much. There are many promises in the Bible that we shall receive what we ask for, but He does not promise to give them to us unless we
ask for them. Mrs K gave me an idea which I
have indeed proved to be true, and one which I confess I was too forgetful of before. It is the necessity of having frequent stated times during the day when we can stop doing everything else, and pray to and commune with our Lord alone. She said she believed the idea that many had, that if they kept in a spirit of prayer all the time there was no necessity for withdrawing alone for a season of prayer, was the cause of their not growing more in grace. ‘We must remember, said she, ’ that our souls must be fed, or we cannot do anything aright, and when we are not in the spirit of prayer, that is just the time when we need the more to go and ask Him who is able to do all things to give us the spirit of prayer.;
;”
“TSWEDELLE, July 19, 1859.
...” Thou need not look for us, dear Carrie, until the last of next week, for there are many things I must do first;... and what is of far more importance, I have I and his wife particularly on
my mind just now. ... I feel such a deep interest in them, and I do pray the Lord to bless them, and make them really His own; and oh! I hope He will keep Satan from making me feel for an instant that I have had anything to do in this matter, more than to deliver the message of the Lord. Indeed I do realise how perfectly powerless lam, and I hope He will make me realise it more fully still.”
To A. U. C.
“T3WEDELLE, Aug. 10, 1S59.
“My Dear Friend, —
“I suppose before this reaches thee you will have heard of the death of our darling little ’ baby Alice; ’ but I feel that I must take this first opportunity to tell you a little more particularly about it, and in what an especial manner this blow has been softened to her mother, by the same hand that dealt it. Indeed it has filled me with wonder to see how He took every rebellious feeling out of her heart; and even the selfish soitow which we by our nature must feel for our loss seems almost swallowed up in the thought that it is His will, who doeth all things well; and then what is there left for her to mourn for?
“We all know that there is, and must be for a long, long time, a void, an aching void, in that mother’s heart, which we can little understand, as we cannot even imagine what the love of a mother towards her child is; but when we remember how entirely that little life was interwoven with her own, how for nearly eight months that little being was her constant care, our hearts must ache for her; but if He fills the vacancy with Himself, as I know He will, we must rejoice.
“I must tell thee a little about our darling. Nearly two weeks ago she was taken with summer complaint, but was so much better when I arrived at Millville, just a week ago yesterday, that she came out to the gate to meet me in her little carriage, looking bright and fat and well. Oh, I should so have loved to have had you see her as she looked that day, in her short clothes, her dainty little feet in such a tiny pair of patent leather slippers, and her whole person so perfectly cunning; but her little face leaning so shyly against the side of her carriage, I do not know how to describe. She never was, before her sickness, what one would call a beautiful child, but that day her great dark violet eyes, so deep and full of meaning, had a peculiar look in them that did not belong to a child of her age, which made me feel anxious about her from that moment. Her complexion was very fair, so pure and transparent that the delicate colouring on her little cheeks was more exquisite than I ever imagined human flesh could be; and then the sweet rosebud mouth, with the lips just parted in astonishment at her old auntie’s big face thrust in her little carriage so unceremoniously. But we have had to watch that darling face grow thinner and paler, and those bright eyes grow dim, until the expression of patient suffering was changed for the peaceful smile of death. She grew worse again the night I got there, although we had no idea that she was dangerously ill until seventh day, when, at the doctor’s suggestion, we brought her home to Tswedelle, for change of air, and that night our doctor said she was very sick, that he feared her brain was affected, which indeed proved to be the truth. She rapidly sank, growing weaker and weaker, until second day morning at a quarter to eight o’clock she quietly ceased to breathe, and we knew that her spirit had fled.
“We took her little body to Laurel Hill yesterday, where they have bought a small piece of ground under the overspreading branches of a great old tulip poplar, in a very retired spot, where the birds sing, and the sun shines through the leaves all day long, on the soft green grass — a fit spot to lay the casket that held our little treasure.”...
After the funeral of her baby niece, Alice accompanied her sister and brother-in-law on a short journey to Saratoga and the Catskill Mountains; and soon after their return, with her usual disinterested thoughtfulness, went to visit and cheer her sister during her many lonely hours at Millville, The following letters give some account of the journey, and of her visit to Millville: —
“Catskill Mountains, 8th mo. 21, 1859.
” My own Dearest Mother, —
“We received thy note and M ’s this morning:
they were forwarded from Saratoga, which place we left yesterday morning. We seemed to get through our visit there, so thought it would be pleasant to just step up here, and take a look off the top; and I am delighted that we did. I think the falls are perfectly lovely; I could spend a day there, for indeed I felt as if I could not help sketching every tree and rock I came to.
“Uncle W and Aunt P arrived last evening to meet us, and this morning we went to the top of North Mountain, where we sat down on the rocks under the shade of some trees, and read and talked about Jesus.
... “Thee don’t know, my own sweet little
5° ON THE ROCK: sx. 20.
mother, how it rejoiced my old heart to get thy little bit of a note; but one thing I missed, and that was a message from father. Why didn’t that dear man send his love?”
“Tswedelle, Sept. 6, 1S59.
” My own Annie, —
...” Thou art in my mind continually, my darling sister. It does not seem as if we are so far separated now as we used to be, for we meet every day, and many times a day, at the mercy-seat, and that brings us in reality very near.
“I am so glad thou likes ‘The Assurance of Faith;’ I think it sets forth the truth in a very clear light; but then, after all, it depends entirely upon the Holy Spirit to bring it home to the heart. I see more and more clearly that it is not in the power of any one to make another understand the truth; we can present it, but that is all, and when their eyes are opened then they will see....
“M. M. J goes home next week. I shall be
sorry to have her go, for she is so much company, and makes the house so cheerful with her pretty German face always so bright and happy, and her broken English, so quaint it often makes me laugh; and her voice! I wish thou could hear her sing. She is very lovely and lovable, and, what is better, I do believe, a real Christian, and our mutual love for the Saviour has brought us nearer together than anything else could. It is so nice to be able to read the Scriptures together, and talk of our glorious hope as we read. How I long, darling, to enjoy this sweet communion with thee; but we must not think of what we cannot have; and, indeed, when we have Christ, and the Bible to tell us about Him, and the Holy Spirit to make us understand its teachings, we have enough spiritual blessings to make us wonder how He could be so good to us, in whom, we know, there is no good thing.
... “How I do long to see Charley and dear little baby Anna, my only little niece on earth now. I can scarcely bear her to grow so old without my seeing anything of her, and all the sweet little baby ways I love to watch. It seems to me I feel my loss in our little Alice’s removal more now than I have at all. While I was with Carrie I was thinking of her loss, but now I am beginning to realise how much I loved her.”