I have never heard one word of her latest testimony to the saving power of the blood of Jesus, but, without hearing this, I venture the assertion that she died rich in faith and abundantly sustained by grace. O how sweetly, years before she died, have I heard her repeat the consoling words: "I know that my Redeemer liveth!" (O, these blessed words! more than all the words addressed to the human hearts by all religions outside of ours), and "I am striving to make my calling and elections sure," "I am pressing towards the mark," etc. These added to what I know of her life, are enough to assure me of her safe passage over the dark stream.
In the loss of her, Gouldtown has lost one of its stays and guides; the world, an eminent woman, one of its greatest, because one of its best, and the church one of its most valiant soldiers.
As for myself, I feel to weep with her children in the loss of a spiritual mother, as well as a beloved and highly respected aunt. Let her memory be dear to us, and her exemplary life be to us one of those lights which illuminate the path of the just, "shining more and more, until the perfect day."
With my grandmother, my aunt Tamson, my own dear father, and the millions of sainted dead, let her body rest and her soul enjoy the eternal bliss of the promises and the God of the promises.
Mrs. Rebecca Steward
BY BENJ. T. TANNER, D.D.
Exactly when or where the writer first made the acquaintance of the subject of this memoir, is forgotten; but he deems himself exceedingly fortunate in the fact itself. To know Rebecca Steward now, may not seem much; but in after years, when the real greatness of her character will have become known, as we doubt not it will, to have known her, will be accounted a most happy incident in one's life.
It is so easy to talk of personal greatness, when the fact is, the truly great are as rare as purest diamond. Not one in a thousand approach it; not one in ten thousand attain to it, or, more properly speaking, possess it—for it is a thing of possession, rather than of acquirement. Be it born in you, you have it. If not, not. For while there may be a tide in the affairs of men, which lead on to "fortune," there is no such tide to a greatness that is real.
Of the few really great souls whom it has been our privilege to know, Mrs. Rebecca Steward was the peer of any. In a very broad sense she was a great woman. As a daughter she was great in dutiful affection; as a sister, in the very broadest sympathy; as a wife, in her incomparable fidelity; and as a mother, in a patience that knew no bounds.
It need not, however, be expected, that any stranger could sound the depth of her nature, in the above mentioned spheres. The qualities we have presumed to mention, were those that floated upon the surface of her life, and, like sweetest water lily, must need attract the attention of the passer by.