And then she says "Every part must be saved, not a hair of your head shall perish." As God sanctified the entire Sabbath from its very dawn to its close, so she argued does God sanctify the whole Christian life. Her faith was to the effect that all Christians were sanctified from conversion, and she called on all Christians to so regard themselves and to so repose upon all the promises of God.
During this period of affliction she wrote the interesting paper found further on in this book, entitled, "Two years on the Brink of Jordan." It was written with a view of reflecting her own experience. The cases alluded to in it of persons crossing the river in Charon's boat, are not ficticious, but solemn records of the death of some of her acquaintances. She preferred to leave them un-named, and I would not now trespass upon her preference; but I repeat, the reader may feel assured, that in every departure of the boat he is looking upon a real death-bed scene, and will understand that morning, noon, and evening, as there used, refer to youth, middle age, and old age.
But it was in the home circle that Mother was best known and most honored. To exhibit something of her knowledge of life, I give a few of her letters addressed to her children. They are records of suffering, of patience, of faith, and of love.
January 9, 1875.
Dear Alice.—I have been kept at home again to-day by a fit of cholic, which I am having every few days now, or whenever I eat anything. It has not lasted as long to-day as usual, and was not quite as bad. Last Sunday I went to Quarterly meeting in the morning, thinking it would be sacrament service, but it was put off till afternoon, so I have not had the sacrament since August * * * You must not think because I said I had the cholic that I am sick. I am going about, seeing to my work. We killed hogs Monday, and I fixed all the dinner and I go visiting once in awhile, and to day, although confined at home, I have been picking some of the fruit off life's fair tree. I can't tell you how much, but I have got pretty well filled; but I have not got as much charity as I want. * * * * * * * * Your pigeon is living and running with the chickens.
Your Mother.
The following letter was addressed to her daughter Alice and her husband Rev. C. C. Filts, when he was very sick. It explains itself, and although it contains matters of a private nature, yet I give it entire to show the beauty and strength of her mind and heart.
June 26, 1875.
My Dear Children.—I am deeply grieved that the dark hand of affliction should fall on you so soon, and I can hardly realize how hard it has been through all these weary weeks of suffering; but, dear Alice, I hope you have done well your duty, and Cethe I trust has born up with Christian patience.
I would gladly have been with you if it had been possible. I am thankful to hear that Cethe is better and hope he will take good care of himself and get quite well. We did not feel so much disappointed at your not coming; we hardly looked for you, although your father would not give it up until the last train had come in. But do not worry to come home; tell Cethe I think he has the home sickness to contend with now, but he must be patient as he promised.
My visit to New York was not much; I was so tired when I got there, I could not do anything. Sunday I went to church and Sunday School. Monday it rained, so I did not go out, and Tuesday I came home; so you see I don't know much about anything, only the beautiful ride up the bay from Long Branch, which was amid the finest scenery I ever saw. Theoph's people seem to think a great deal of him; but he is not very well. Lizzie got down home all right and her brother is coming back with her.
We are all well, but the weather is so hot we can hardly live; the factory stopped yesterday for the heat. We are going to harvest next week; we have the nicest corn.
We are having some great times about Bro. Faucett's money; we have to pay up every week, but I think he is nice, and he gives us good preaching.
I know you will not mind bad writing this hot weather.
Mother.
In giving these two letters, I have desired to show my mother's appreciation of the sacraments of the church, and of the gospel, and her ability to give good counsel and comfort to her distressed children. She had not had the sacrament since August! She felt the loss, and had through much affliction gone to church that she might once more meet the assembly of the saints, at the table of the Lord, and then had been disappointed! She put her own feelings on paper, when, as against the clamor and complaints against the minister, she wrote "he gives us good preaching." Little did she then know that that minister, who gave the people, as she said, "good preaching," should one day be called upon to pronounce the last sad tribute to her worth over her open coffin. I am glad that I can put on record the testimony of Rebecca Steward, a woman learned in the Bible, and experienced in the things of God, in favor of the preaching of any minister. She calmly wrote that Brother Faucett gave the people good preaching.
How she could comfort the distressed, the letters themselves say. A few more paragraphs will show how she lived in the atmosphere of Heaven, and how she looked upon Heaven as her near home.
The reader will pardon this anticipation and transposition of years.