Bereavement

From 1834 to 1841, the period included in this fourth Book, dark and heavy clouds rested upon Mr James’s heart and home. The sufferings of his daughter, who had been an invahd almost from childhood, greatly increased, his own mental depression was aggravated by the appearance, in 1840, of symptoms of a disease threatening him with protracted physical torture, and at last Mrs James, whose energy and wisdom had been his strength and support through these troubles, sickened and died. His admiration of her intellectual vigour and moral worth has been already recorded, and is fully sustained by the testimony of all who knew her.

She inspired an almost idolatrous affection — an affection so mingled with respect for the dignity and firmness of her character, that it deepened into reverence. Having no young children requiring constant attention at home, she was able to devote the greater part of her time to the visitation of the sick and the poor. Nor was she satisfied with offering spiritual consolation to the distressed, she generously employed her wealth in conferring substantial relief. A letter, which I insert here, addressed by her, at the beginning of her fatal illness, to her friend Mrs Wills, of Bristol, will shew that she had tenderness as well as strength.

BEREAVEJilENT.

“Edobaston, December 21, 1840.

“My very dear Feiexd, — When I look at the date of your letter, I am grieved that it has not sooner been acknowledged; but the truth is, that my debility has so much increased as to make writing a painfully fatiguing occupation. I have determined, therefore, while I can write, to assure you of my unabated affection and grateful recollection of the various instances of your love and kindness in times that are past. May you and yours, my beloved friend, be long spared to do much good, and to enjoy much happiness in the favour of God! Pray for me, that my afSiction may be greatly sanctified. There is much dross to be consumed; hitherto the fire has been gentle, but I must expect to feel it more; and if the purpose of the gracious Refiner is accomplished, and during the process He shall sit by and say, ‘Fear not, I am with thee,’ I hope I could welcome the trial — perfect weakness upheld by omnipotent strength ^lt11 bring glory to my God.

“Until the last month I have been free from pain, but now the old pain in my back is returned, and for several hours each day tries me very much, and leaves a distressing weakness. But I am thankfid that my mind is generally peaceful; I dare not say that I have the full assurance of hope, but I have a clearer view of the evil of sin, a longing after perfect holiness, and a conviction that none but Christ can save my soul. I am surrounded by an abundance of temporal mercies, and the unbounded kindness of my friends humbles me in the dust. Who, lud what am I, that God’s people should thus favour me! Public, .social, and domestic prayer is presented from our large church; may it be graciously heard, and may I be enabled to leave them a dying testimony to the power of the gospel and the grace of the Saviour! Oh, what a prospect there is before us — to be with Jesus, and to be like Him — to be perfectly holy ourselves, and all around us holy!

“You see, my dear friend, that I write to you with all the freedom of long-tried friendship. I rejoice in the general welfare of your whole

fanuly, but sympathise with dear ]llrs in her afHiction; give my

Christian love to her; I pray that the Sun of Righteousness may soon arise on her with healing in his beams, and restore to her the joy as well as the reality of His salvation. If it were not too large to send by the post, I would forward her a work which has much cheered me. You can easily procure it; it is ‘Scripture Portions for the Afliicted, especially the Sick,’ published by the Tract Society. Give my Idndcst love to your dear boy; may he love and serve the God of his fathers!

“I have written as much as my strength will allow. Affectionate remembrance to your dear husband, and each member of a family I highly respect for their works of faith and labours of love. Farewell, my dear fiiend. — Your tenderly attached, “A. M. James.”

LIFE OF JOHN ANGELL JAMES.

The winter passed, and spring came, and instead of any promise of returning health, there was an increase of weakness and disease. For several months before the end, all hope had fled.

The following letter, written by Mr James, February 184;1, to Mrs Gregory, on the death of her husband Dr Olinthus Gregory, indicates how his heart was affected by the prospect of his loss: —

“Edobaston, February 16, 1841.

“I am not, my dear madam, so occupied and engaged by my own deep and still deepening sorrows, as to be insensible to the sorrows of others. Amidst my own thickening gloom, I have often thought of you. I have accounted it my privilege to know as a friend the inestimable man whom it was your richer privilege for so many years to possess as a husband; and kno-ning your incalculable loss, I am prepared to express for you a sympathy which is far more than compliment. I need not tell you of his rare gifts, and the rare graces with which they were combined, which made him at once the object of admiration and esteem to men of science, and of affection and confidence to men of piety.

“Among some of the pleasantest recollections of my life of the same kind, are those evenings spent with him, and I now anticipate that glorious communion of spirits made perfect into which he has now entered. In him we saw an exquisite specimen of sanctified intellect — loftiness of philosophy combined with the humility of true reUgion.

“I am sure that to some it might seem almost unkind thus to aggravate your sorrows by setting before you thus such excellence you have lost. No, my dear friend, it is not unkind. You love to hear from others now, as you love to repeat to yourself, his greatness and his goodness. He has a space in your memory around which you are glad to collect your own thoughts and the expressions of your friends — not, indeed, to pay him more than may be given to a creature, but to glorify God in him. He is gone, but who took him 1 His God. To whom and to what 1 To Himself. How many reasons for submission are to be found in these two considerations! Hearken to the language which the Redeemer addressed to the beloved apostle in the isle of Patmos, Behold, I am above, far over men, and have the keys of hell and of death, ’ and of the unseen world.’ ]Iark that — which holds the keys of the grave, never trusts them out of His hands, and therefore the portals of the tomb are never opened but by Himself. Yes, He has turned the key, in the present instance, to admit to glory a soul which He had redeemed, sanctified, and matured for it. As for yourself, my dear madam, the widow’s God is your God — put thy widow’s trust in Me. What more could He have said? The arm of flesh may fail, but the arm of the Spirit can never fail. ‘He liveth, and blessed be my rock, and let the God of my salvation be exalted, Oh, dwell upon these rapturous and comprehensive exultations. He liveth; die who wUl, God Uves; and shall we feel all bereft and desolate wMle God lives, and is our God? Is there not enough in God to supply us, without a husband or a wife being added to Him? Do we so reckon of Christ and His salvation as to imagine that we cannot make ourselves to live vnth content, during the few fleeting years that we are to spend upon earth, with such a portion? Weep, my good friend, you must, you ought — God expects it as well as allows it; but weep not only as a woman and a widow, but as a Christian. The widow of such a man should be no ordinary widow. I am expecting the trial which you are experiencing. May God prepare us for the cup which He is preparing for us! I think I can trust Him, but oh, the drinking of it is yet to come. Well, there is grace enough in Him if there is grace enough in me, or us, for this. My dear and inestimable wife is calm, serene, and hopeful. Her eye never turns back to life, or scarcely for a moment. She feels, she speak.s, as a dying woman, and a dying Christian too. I am preparing a book for widows; I wish it was out. In the meantime, may I recommend to you the perusal of John Howe’s letters to Lady Kachel Russel on the execution of her husband. May He that comfortetb those that are cast down be your support! Remember me to you children. May the want be greatly sanctified to them! My dear wife sends her sympathy with that of, my dear madam, your sincere friend,

“John Akgell James.”

In the Carr’s Lane Church-book there is a very affecting letter of sympathy addressed by the church to its pastor, on Good-Friday, AprU 9, 18-il; how it came to be written, is thus explained by Mr James in “Faith Triumphant:” —

“In her love and solicitude for the welfare of the church, she requested me, some months before her decease, to bear from her sick-chamber to its members a message expressive of her affection for them; of her gratitude for the sympathy they had shewn; and of her ardent prayers for their increasing holiness. The message was delivered at one of our sacramental seasons, and produced a state of feeling not easily to be described through the whole community, then assembled round the table of the Lord. On the following Good-Friday, which was but a few days afterwards, when the church was again assembled for the purpose of solemn humiliation and prayer, they adopted, after the pastor had retired, the following letter, which was presented to him by the deacons: —

LIFE OF JOHN ANGELL JAMES.

“‘to otje honoueed and beloved pastor in his affliction.

“‘We, the members of the church, placed under your pastoral care by the Great Shepherd, and now assembled together as one body, desire to unite in one heart, and with one voice to express our affectionate sympathy with you, now that you are bowed down in submissive suffering under the hand of your gracious Father. We have long been the anxious witnesses of your afHiction, and have watched with you, and felt for you, under all the vicissitudes of hope and fear, which have alternately flattered or depressed you. We feel, too, that our efforts to mitigate your sorrows have been but feeble and ineffectual; our pity can but weep where most it loves; but we have remembered you and yours, in our approaches to that throne of grace, whereon is seated One that knows and loves you well; who, in the person of His beloved Son, is touched with the feeling of your infirmities; who pitieth you as a father pitieth his children, and who can effectually help you; and we A believe that fervent prayer has availed much to the strengthening your faith, and causing consolation to abound where affliction has so much abounded.

“‘But it is not our only object at present, dear sir, to express our sympathy for you, though this were worthy a more full and a more tender effusion of our hearts.

“‘On the last Sabbath, when we were holding communion with the Fiiend of sinners, and -with each other, you delivered to us a message from one whose name is, and ever will be, dear to us. The expressions of her love overwhelmed our hearts, and the admonitions that accompanied them filled our spirits with solemn awe. The scene will never be forgotten by us, and we pray and hope it may always be practically remembered.

“‘We now beg leave to acknowledge through you, Mrs James’s tender and affectionate remembrance of us, and to express our grateful reception both of that and of her more solemn admonitions. Bat we cannot be content ynlh this simple acknowledgment: we look back with thankfulness to the Givei- of all good through a course of twenty years — (and in the reti’ospect how short it seems!) — we feel that you and we have derived unnumbered benefits from the relationships in which we respectively stood to the object of our present affection and sympathy — we rest with mingled emotions of delight and sorrow upon the recollections of the graces with which the Great Head of the Church has qualified her for her important and responsible station as the help-meet of our beloved pastor. To speak particularly of those graces by which the church has been instructed and comforted, would be grateful to our hearts, but we feel that the mention of them would disturb those

BEEE^VVEMENT.

sacred feelings of humiliation, which would not for a moment relinquish the position of a penitent before the cross, nor forget the prayer of the publican. We would therefore magnify the grace of God in her, and trace up every benefit and blessing to His bounteous hand; but surely we maj’, we must love the instrument through whom they have been received.

“‘Many of us in the humblest stations of life, and many others better known in the world, shall ever cherish the most lively and gi’ateful recollections of kindness to us in the chamber of sickness, or when overtaken by the various forms of human calamity and distress; when the appearance of our sympathising friend was as though an angel of mercy had visited our habitations, sent from above to pour consolation iato our wounded hearts; and our faith in the gracious retribution and promises of God is now strengthened, when we see or hear that the merciful obtaineth mercy — that the consolations which have been dispensed by her to others, now abound richly toward herself. We pray that the same holy consolations may yet abound more and more in the experience of our dear and honoiu-ed friend, until, as a li-ving temple of the Holy Spirit, she is filled -n-ith all the fulness of God, even of His light and love, and joy.

“‘We again unite in one heart and with one voice, in offering our love and thankfulness to God, and to His suffering yet comforted saint, for all the various and numerous benefits we have received and enjoyed by her means; and we pray that our eternity may be spent together in ascribing all glory and praise to Him from whom these and all our other blessings do continually flow, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.’”

Under the same date, in a diary which he kept during his wife’s illness, he writes: —

“On this day the affectionate and most tender letter of sympathy from the church to myself, in response to the solemn message which I had borne to it of her devoted affection, was read to her. It was, perhaps, almost imprudent to read this epistle to her; yet, as it was in part concerning herself, and demonstrated the esteem and affection which were cherished for her by the members, it was scarcely just to her, or to them, to withhold it; but the hearing of it almost entirely overcame her, and it was with some difiiculty she recovered. Her first words were, ‘I am a poor, unprofitable servant. From the time I became the wife of a minister, it was my effort to be the servant of the church. I have done but little. But oh, the kindness of my friends in thus gathering round me now! When Chiist was betrayed, it is said the disciples all forsook Him and fled from Him in His extremity, but all are trying to shew me kindness in mine.’”

LIFE OF JOHN ANGELL JAMES,

The diary contains many beautiful illustrations of the earnestness of Mrs James’s piety — a piety characterised, however, by great distrust of its own reality and worth. I extract one or two passages: —

“‘I have lately been thinking much upon Christ’s human nature and sojourn upon earth, and have almost envied the family of Bethany in their attention to Him — but I shall see Him. Much of heaven is a mystery — its locahty, and the state of separate spirits, and other things; but this is enough — I shall be with Christ. I am lost when I get beyond this. I have been repeating that beautiful hymn: —

“‘Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings,
Thy better portion trace,
Rise from transitory things.

Towards heaven, thy native place,

“‘Sun, and moon, and stars decay;

Time shall soon this earth remove.
Rise, my soul, and haste away,
To seats prepared above.’”

“April 15. — After a night of great suffering, I found her much exhausted, but still equally tranqud. ‘I do not alter my prayer,’ she said, — “Father, glorify Thy name.” I am willing He should do this, anyhow. I alter not the condition — I do not draw back — it is all according to His covenant. Heaven will make amends for it all. It is all right.’ On receiving a little water, she looked up, and said, — ’ “They shall not thirst any more: the Lamb that is in the midst of the throne shall lead them to living fountains of waters.” Oh, it seems too good to be true for such sinners: but the Lamb shall do it. If Socinianism be true, I am a poor, helpless idolater. I cannot form a conception of God apart from Christ. I cannot understand an Infinite Spirit. I think of God in Christ. I have been repeating Doddridge’s beautiful hymn, “Grace, ’tis a charming sound” “By grace ye are saved,” was the text of the first gospel sermon I ever heard.’

“Evening of the same day. — ‘I was at one time of my life much troubled with that passage,” Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead.” I have felt a little of it this evening, and I wdl tell you how I met it — “Ye will not come to me that ye may have life.” Now, I desire to come — I wish to come — I do come. I come to Him as the way, the truth, and the life. I come to Him for life — life spiritual and eternal. I want life, and life from Him; and thus I get rid of my fears.’”

Ten days after this, Mr James wrote to Mrs Wills, reporting the prolongation of his wife’s sufferings, but thankfully acknowledging her tranquillity and happiness.

“Edgbaston, April th.

“Deah !Mes Wills, — On Saturday, I was requested by my beloved wife to reply to your kind inquiries directed to herself concerning her health. She begs me to present her kindest love, and to thank you for your soHcitude concerning her. I can send you no other news, and, so far as she is concerned, no better than that she is dra-wing nearer and nearer to the kingdom. Yes, t/ou?- long- tried friend, and my dear companion, counsellor, and comforter for nearly twenty years, is about to leave us, and go to the land of the holy and happy. For the last fortnight her weakness has so much increased, that it would never have surprised either us or her medical attendant, if the symptoms of the last great change had been exhibited any hour. Still, the mortal conflict may be long yet, but it seems certainly approaching its termination. Thus far of the perishing body; but the calm and happy state of the imperishable soul I The outer and inner man present a striking contrast; for the strength of grace is beautifully, gloriously triumphant over the feebleness of nature. AH is peace — not a murmur, not a repining thought; no, not even a wish it were otherwise than it is. She feels as well as says, that she is just in the situation in which God would have her be, and that is enough. She has borne tveahiess with submission, and is now -filling, if God should appoint her to it, to bear paui. ‘Father, glorify Thy name,’ is her prayer, without, as she frequently says, any conditions or qualifications.

“This, my dear madam, is the balm of my poor wounded spirit. Her state of mind is a help to me. I learn now those lessons from her bed, to which she has often listened from my pulpit. May God sanctify me for life, and labour, and usefulness, as He seems to be sanctifying her for death and glory!

“With kind regards to Mr WUls and to your son, I remain, my dear madam, your afflicted friend,

“J. A. James.

“Need I ask your prayers and those of Mr WUls? WiU you also remember us to all yoiu: circle?”

She lingered a few weeks longer. Under the date June 4, 18il, I find the following entry in the Church-book: —

“Mrs James having been dismissed from the church below to the church above on the preceding evening, our pastor was not present, but the following letter being received from him when we were assembled

LIFE OF JOHN ANQELL JAMES.

together, the hour was spent in earnest supplication to God on his behalf : —

i CHXJECH ASSEMBLIKG IN CAEE’s LANE.

“‘My deaely-beloved Flock, — Although it is not necessary for me to say to you, “Pity me, pity me, O my friends, for the hand of God hath touched me,” or to urge upon you the apostolic request, “Brethren, pray for me,” yet I cannot forbear to commend myself to your sincere and fervent supplications at the throne of grace this evening, that I may be so strengthened, by Divine grace, to bear this and every other visitation of my heavenly Father as to glorify Him, and be an example of patient suffering, firm confidence, and peaceful hope in Christ, to my dear and much-loved people. — I remain, my dear flock, your bereaved and afflicted pastor,

“‘J. A. James.’”

It was his custom to read, at family prayer on Saturday evenings, the 103d Psalm. On the Saturday of the week in which Mrs James died, he hesitated, with the open Bible in his hand, before he began to read; but, after a moment’s silence, he looked up and said, “Notwithstanding what has happened this week, I see no reason for departftig from our usual custom of reading the 103d Psalm: ‘Bless the Lord, 0 my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name.’”

His grief, though profound, was not violent and uncontrolled. The discipline of the previous six or seven years had prepared him to bow, with submission, under the mighty hand of God. He describes, I think, not only what he strove for, but what, in a great measure, he actually attained, in his pastoral address to his people, issued immediately afterwards: —

“When a holy and beloved object of our affection is removed by death, we ought to sorrow; humanity demands it, and Christianity, in the person of the weeping Jesus, allows it: and the man without a tear is a savage or a stoic, but not a Christian. God intends, when He bestows His gifts, that they should be received with smiles of gratitude; and when He recalls them, that they should be surrendered with ’ drops of sacred grief.’ Sorrow is an affection implanted by the Creator in the soul for wise and beneficent purposes; and it ought not to be ruthlessly torn up by the roots, but directed in its exercise by reason and religion. The work of grace, though it is above nature, is not against it. The man who tells me not to weep at the grave insults me, mocks me, and wishes to degrade me. I do weep; I must weep; I cannot help it; God requires me to do so; and lias opened a fountain of tears in my nature for that purpose. And it is the silent, pm-e, unsopliisticated testimony of my heart to the excellence of the gift He gave in mercy, and in mercy, no doubt, as well as judgment, has recalled. Without sorrow we should not improve by His correcting hand; chastened giief is like the gentle shower, falling first upon the earth to prepare it for the seed, and then upon the seed to cause it to germinate; though wild, clamorous, passionate sorrow is like the thunder-shower of inundation, that carries away soil and seed together. Can we lose the company of one whose presence was the light and charm of our dwelling; whose society was the source of our most valuable and most highly-valued earthly comfort; whose love, ever new and fresh, was presented daily to us in ftdl cup by her own hand; who cheered us with her conversation; bore with our infirmities; solved our doubts; disclosed to us in difficulty the path of duty; and quickened us by her example — is it possible, I say, to lose such a friend and not sorrow?

“But, then, though we mourn, we must not murmur. We may sorrow, but not with the passionate and uncontrolled grief of the heathen, who have no hope. Our sorrow must flow, deep as we like, but noiseless and stni, in the channels of submission. It must be a sorrow so quiet as to hear all the words of consolation which our heavenly Father utters amidst the gentle strokes of His rod; so reverential as to adore Him for the exercise of His prerogative in taking away what and whom He pleases; so composed as to prepare us for doing His will, as well as healing it; so meek and gentle as to justify Him in His dispen-sations; so confiding as to be assured that there is as much love in taking the mercy away as there was in bestowing it; so grateful as to be thankful for the mercies left, as well as afiiicted for the mercies lost; so trustful as to look forward to the future with hope, as well as back upon the past with distress; so patient as to bear all the aggravations that accompany or follow the bereavement ldth. unruffled acquiescence; so holy as to lift the prayer of faith for Divine gi-ace to sanctify the stroke; and so lasting as to preserve, through all the coming years of life, the benefit of that event, which, in one awful moment, changed the whole aspect of our earthly existence.”