We cannot leave this part of the record of the Lord's work without observing her strong attachment to the children. In this she was very judicious. What momentous issues are at stake during early childhood. It is doubtless true that Christ meant to teach a practical lesson with reference to our tender watch-care of the little ones during His third brief interview with His disciples, after His resurrection. We read:
"So, when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me more than these? He saith to him, yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, Feed my lambs.
"He saith unto him again the second time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? He saith unto him, yea, Lord; thou knowest that I love thee. He saith unto him, Feed my sheep.
"He saith unto him the third time, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me? And he said unto him, Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee. Jesus saith unto him, Feed my sheep."
Amid such a scene so truthfully depicted in the above narrative, we behold the insecurity of the children. What a sad sight. An intemperate father and no Bible in the house. What a statement in this land of Bibles! Oh, what fearful consequences hang upon the conduct of parents. What would become of the masses in the lower part of the city, were it not for our truly devoted Bible women? What victories for Christ and His Church have been achieved—who can tell?
The cheering light that dawned upon the deeply bereaved mother when her boy was killed, is beheld as we, in imagination, take our stand by the bedside with them, and hear that sorrow-stricken mother exclaiming, "that the Lord was helping her." This is a striking proof that He who comforted Martha and Mary, at Bethany, was in that tenement-house, saying once again, "I am the resurrection and the life, he that believeth in me, though he were dead yet shall he live." Yes, helping her to look beyond this vale of tears, and say even amid the loss of her darling boy, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Surely the language of Job must have been experienced on an occasion like the above. "When the ear heard me, then it blessed me; and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me: Because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me: and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy. I put on righteousness, and it clothed me: my judgment was as a robe and a diadem. I was eyes to the blind, and feet was I to the lame."—Job xxix. 11-15.
There is a very comforting reflection for bereaved parents in Dr. Payson's "Comparison of Departed Children to Jewels." To a mother mourning the death of a child, he said:
"Suppose, now, some one was making a beautiful crown for you to wear, and you knew it was for you, and that you were to receive it and wear it as soon as it should be done. Now, if the maker of it were to come, and in order to make the crown more beautiful and splendid, were to take some of your jewels to put into it, should you be sorrowful and unhappy because they were taken away for a little while, when you knew they were gone to make up your crown?"
In endeavoring humbly to interpret the language of the deceased, and, at the same time, call attention to her superior magnanimity of heart, I would not for a moment dare to make it appear that I was compromising human merit with the free, rich grace of our Heavenly Father, so richly displayed in His imparted power to His children, enabling them to do valiantly in the salvation of souls. This power is the presence of the Holy Spirit in the heart. Just listen to the closing sentence of the last paragraph: "I can truly say of myself I can do nothing!" though I can also, I hope, add, "I can do all things through Christ who strengtheneth me." Ah! here is the secret of distinguished merit in the great conflict against all the forms of evil in the world. The instruction to the disciples were to tarry until they received this Divine strength. Tarry, how? Well, let us read the record: