The Ninetieth Sacrameint, October 2, 1737

DEAR MISS BLISS DYING.

The wise and gracious, though mysterious, providence of God, has so ordered it in many instances, that some of the greatest trials of my life have preceded a sacrament day: the death of Mr. Saunders; of Lady Russell; of ray dear Betsey, and the yet dearer Mr. Some; and now, behold, a fifth blow this day falls upon me. The flattering hope I had conceived of the recovery of my dear friend and companion, I may say, of my sister, Miss Bliss — for no sister could be fonder of, or dearer to a brother — is taken away, and this sorrowful day, October 2, at the distance of a year, has shown me two of the saddest sights my eyes ever beheld — the burial of my dear child, and the life’s blood of my dear friend, in whose kind arms she departed. My heart has this day been almost torn in pieces with sorrow; yet, blessed be God, not a hopeless, not a repining sorrow; but one so softened and so sweetened, that, with all its distress, I number this among the best days of my life; if that be good, which teaches us faith and love, and which cherishes the sentiments of benevolence and of piety. I desire very thankfully to acknowledge, that days of the sharpest trial have often been, to me, days of singular comfort.

This day, at the table of the Lord, I insisted a little on those words, “Can we drink of the cup, and refuse the cross?” putting it to my fellow Christians thus: you come to arm yourselves here; but boast not: can you bear losses? can you bear to be separated from your friends? can you leave life, even though in a violent manner? We would not immediately say. Lord, we are able, but, Thy will be done. We can do all things through Christ that strengthens us. Lead whither thou wilt, only let thine arm support us, and make our trials subservient to our eternal advantage.

I afterwards dropped some hints from those words; “If a man,” whoever he be, “love me, he will keep my words.” John xiv. 23. Lord, we desire to do so; speak, for thy servant hears. We come hither with a desire, not only to know, but to fulfil thy commands. “My Father will love him.” O! to love God, and to be beloved by him, how desirable! “And we will come.” Welcome, blessed Jesus! come into our very souls. “Come unto him, and make our” stated and constant “abode with him;” not being as a wayfaring man that turns in for a night. Lord, if thou wilt dwell with us, it signifies little with whom we dwell; thy friendship, thy love, can make up the want of human friendship in its sweetest endearments.

In pouring out the cup, reflecting on what I had seen, I observed, that Christ died a bloody death, to impress our hearts; because we are apt to be impressed with the sight of a friend’s blood, if he be wounded. How did the remembrance of that sad scene which the morning presented then cut me even to the heart! Why should not the blood of a Saviour impress me more? But such is the difference between sense and faith. I hope the remembrance of what I have seen and felt this day will long abide by me. My heart was, and is, full of Divine consolation; and the supporting views of my dear, I fear, dying, friend, with whom I have prayed three times this day, have comforted, rather than dejected me. May the glory be his from whom the grace comes; who has wrought these good things in her, and sealed both of us with his grace, as those who are to be companions in eternal glory. A thought which has now a relish which nothing can exceed, which nothing can equal.