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A Memorial.
MEMORIAL
OF
HENRIETTA
MARIA PEEL
CRAG COTTAGE,
WINDHILL
_____
BRADFORD:
PRINTED BY JOHN DALE AND CO.
____
MDCCCLXIV.
THE FOLLOWING BRIEF MEMOIR OF
HENRIETTA MARIA,
THE BELOVED DAUGHTER OF WM. PEEL, ESQ.,
CRAG COTTAGE, WINDHILL,
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO HER
BEREAVED FATHER AND FRIENDS.
WINDHILL CRAG,
August, I864.
In Memoriam.
____________
IT is
with mingled feelings of sadness and pleasure, that
the writer attempts to delineate the life and character of one who has been
known and familiar to her from her earliest recollections, and with whom it
has been her privilege and happiness to be on intimate terms of warm
friendship through life. Though possessing
a frail constitution from childhood, Henrietta was gifted with an amiable
disposition, and gentleness of demeanour which endeared her to her youthful
companions, and gained for her a large share of their love and
friendship. She received the rudiments
of education, in Mr. C—’s school, near to her own home, and being
gifted with a capacity for acquiring knowledge, made rapid advances in the
early stages; and gained the warm approbation and lasting esteem of her
teacher, who, in after years, when solicited by Henrietta to write in her Album,
composed for the purpose of piece of poetry, in which the following line
occurs,
"My former pupil, now my
valued friend."
It was one of
Miss Peel’s characteristics, that she was capable of a life-long friendship;
the friends of her youth were also those of her riper years.
Having been early bereaved of a Mother’s
watchful care, she was, at ten years of age, placed as a pupil in the
Moravian School at Fulneck; here her thirsting mind and soul drank in untold
and lasting treasures, combined with rapid progress in literary attainments,
refinement of manners, and Christian principles, which rendered her an
ornament to society in after life, and endeared her to all who knew her, in a
more especial degree to those who were privileged to enjoy her friendship. On leaving Fulneck, her Father engaged a
lady to be her governess, under whose supervision she continued to improve in
many useful branches of education; and by her dutiful conduct, and gentle
disposition secured for herself the good opinion and lasting esteem of Miss D—th, with whom she continued to correspond to the end of her life. When Henrietta had completed her education
she undertook the management of her Father’s house and there became a pattern
of neatness and good order; being methodical in her domestic arrangements,
she economised her time, and was thus enabled to perform her daily duties in
a quiet and regular manner, with comparative ease to herself and those who
served her, to whom she was always kind and considerate.
In the year 1846, she commenced a diary, in
which she continued to note down almost daily, the state of the weather, her
chief occupations for the day,
the names of the friends from whom she received letters, and to
whom she wrote, together with incidents of local interest, or relating to
her friends. The following extracts
are selected from each yearly diary, and may perhaps be interesting to those
friends into whose hands this little memoir may come, as specimens of the
bent of her mind, and occupation of her time.
1846, January 4th. Very bad cold.
Much shocked to see a poor man, who had been taken out of the canal drowned,
carried upon a ladder to the King’s Arms Inn. Another victim of
intemperance.
1847, February 8th. Fine frosty
morning; called upon Mrs. D—n. In the
afternoon called to see the Misses S—m, talked about the intended Bazaar;
made a pair of watchpockets in the evening; received three pair of baby's
shoes from R. S. for the Bazaar.
1848, March 30th. Showery; Rev. Mr.
Hodgkinson died this morning; my Aunt called at the T—’s to
see my friend Mrs. R—e, found her much worse. An invitation from Miss
W. to see her married.
1848, August 6th. Heard this
morning of the death of my dearest friend
Mrs. R—e, as I was just going to start for Church, much troubled, but consoled
by thinking _" She sleeps in Jesus."
1849, June 7th. Fine; a letter from Mrs.
W—m. Mr. D. and Mr. B. called; got
their autographs.
1850, April 21st. Fine; went to Church in the
morning; Chapel in the evening; spent the afternoon with Miss C—h, a letter from Mrs. W—m.
1851, May 23rd. Lovely day; went to the
Baptist Chapel to see Mrs. H. interred by the Revs. Mr. S. and Mr. J. My Aunt sent Cousin R—r a mourning card in memory of my Cousin G—e; spent the
evening with Miss C—h; was introduced to Mr. and Mrs. H—n.
1852, June 25th. Fine; not very well; heard my dear friend Mrs. B—r was dead;
went over to T—’s to see her dear remains; she looked most
beautiful and placid; the last of those four dear sisters now
gone. Called to see Mrs. C—tt; wrote to Miss D—n informing her of the mournful event.
1853, July 26th. Showers; went with my dear
Father to Leeds; had
Mr. H—s in the carriage; saw through the Academy of Paintings; much pleased with the Exhibition; returned by the three o'clock train.
1854,
August 3rd. Charming day. Spent the day with Miss D—n; called upon Mrs. G—d; went through Mr. F—’s house: spent a very pleasant day.
1855,
September 27th. Beautiful day; went
with my Father to see Martin's Pictures of "The Plains of Heaven,"
"The Great Day of His Wrath," and "The Last Judgement,"
which are master-pieces of imagination; took a cab to the Cemetery, walked
back through Bolton and Undercliffe.
1856, October
29th. Thick fog; called upon Miss T—l, Miss D—n, from
Yeadon, there. Mr. F. T—’s workpeople struck work, and attempted to
set fire to the mill, broke the windows, refusing to work on the two-loom
system.
1857,
November 8th. Very pleasant day; went to Chapel morning and evening; in the
afternoon went to the Moravian Chapel, Baildon, the Rev. Mr. W—y,
from Fulneck, preached from the words, “There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother,” much pleased to
hear him, not having seen him since I was a girl and he a boy at school.
1858,
December 10th. Fine and mild; went to see Mrs. F—r, found her and baby doing well, but Wilfrid very
poorly. My friend Mrs. C—s confined of a fine boy.
1859,
January 7th. High wind; went to see Mrs. C—tt, took
Miss C—tt a piece of music called “The Flowers of
Home.” Mrs. J. W—d came during my stay.
1860,
Feb 24th. Mild; wrote to Miss D—n asking her to come next Wednesday or
Thursday; called on Mrs. F—’s, Miss H—s called with the “Life of C. Bronte,”
asked me to lend it to Mrs. B. W.
1861,
March 22nd. Fine; Mr. and Mrs. H—y came to see West’s picture; walked up to
see Mrs. C—e, called upon Mrs. B. and Mrs. J.; saw Mrs. J—’s boy, a very fine
one.
1862,
April 22nd. Showers; Miss D—n and I went to the Manningham Schools’ Bazaar;
bought a work-basket &c., at the Misses A.’s stall; a very elegant
bazaar! Called upon Dr. M—k; returned by the three o’clock train; a note from Miss T—l.
1862,
August 27th. Fine; received letters from Miss D—n and Miss H—n; wrote to Miss
D—n, called upon Mrs. K—y. My Father had the vault opened and the lead
coffins placed there.
1863,
January 1st. A very wet and boisterous day; received letters from Miss A—r
and Miss D—n; had Miss C—h to tea, spent a pleasant evening.
1863,
February 23rd. Wet day; wrote to order a carte
of my father; my dear Lizzie W—n died this evening, at half-past eight
o’clock, aged fifteen years.
1863,
March 10th. Snow showers; the Prince of Wales married; processions and
dinners, flags and illuminations, a general holiday, a dinner for old women
at the Sun Hotel, Shipley; and for the scholars of the Church School.
1863,
April 21st. High wind and showers; called upon Mrs. H—y; wrote to Mrs. W—t
enclosing my Father’s carte for
Miss W—t; wrote to Mrs. N—r, enclosing my carte
for J—y.
1863,
May 24th. Dull; went with my dear Father to Keighley, had a cab to the
Cemetery, and then drove to Goose-eye to see the stream where he used to fish
when a boy, and where he had not been for sixty years; came back through
Oakworth, took tea at the Devonshire Inn, returned by the half-past four
train. Mrs, H—y came on in the evening.
1863,
June 17th. My Aunt very poorly; called upon Mrs. J. D—y gave her my carte ; Mrs. H—y called in the
evening; wrote to Mrs. W—t.
1863,
July 8th. Lovely morning; a letter from Miss D—n; Miss C—h and I had a
delightful walk in the evening by Bolton, called to see D—a, the Quakeress, and Mrs. L—e, who is
in her ninetieth year.
1863,
August 26th. Fine; attended the funeral of my dear Aunt Peel, placed a
wreath of evergreens upon her coffin.
1863,
September 9th. Charming day; Miss C—h and I spent a very pleasant day with
Miss D—n, gave her “Memorials of the late Prince Consort.”
1863,
October 23rd. Lovely day; walked; over to see Mrs. T. A—r, called at Oakfield, Mr. and Mrs. T. A—r
and two Misses A—r at Scarbro’, old Mrs. A—r not in, saw Miss M—a; Miss T—l
called.
1863,
October 25th. Splendid day; went with Miss C—h to the Moravian chapel, Mr. H—e
preached; Mrs. S—d and Mrs. H—e invited us to stay tea, but declined;
returned by Baildon Green.
1863,
November 12th. Charming day; walked up to see Mrs. C—e, read Mrs. F—’s letter
to her, found her very weak.
1863,
November 13th. Still fine; called upon Mrs. J. H—l previous to their removal
to Bradford.
1863,
November 14th. Beautiful day; received fifteen photographs of my Father, Aunt
and myself. My father received a note from Mr. R—; very poorly to-day, a bad
cold; a note from Miss T—l.
1863,
November 15th. Lovely warm morning; poorly with my cold; at home all day;
Miss C—h called to see me.
1863,
November 16th. Fine; still very poorly; T. —R died, aged fifty-five years.
1863,
November 17th. Wet day; rather better; sent Mrs. J. A—r my carte and my Father's; sent Mrs. H—y
my Father’s.
1863,
November 18th. Fine; rather better; a letter from Miss D—n; sent my Aunt's carte to cousin J—, and one of myself
to Mrs. T. C—h, also one of my Father’s
to Mrs. C—e.
1863,
November 19th. Fine; my Father went to Bradford; sent cousin H. B—tt my
Aunt's likeness; received a letter thanking me for the carte from Mrs. J. A—r
and enclosing a Heaton Bazaar circular.
Poor dear Miss Peel died on the evening of
this day.
As a daughter she was most devoted, kind and
dutiful, studying her Father’s wishes, and contributing to his comfort and
pleasure by every means in her power; he now says: "She was his guardian
angel." Her death is to him peculiarly painful, and distressing at his
advanced period of life. As a friend she was kind, constant and true, and her
amiable and affable manners gained her many warm friends, with whom she
visited or corresponded as distance and time permitted; and from many of whom
her loss has called forth expressions of heartfelt sorrow, in verbal and
epistolary condolence with her bereaved father.
One very dear friend, writing, says:
"never will Miss Peel cease to live in the hearts of her friends."
Another, "I was much attached to her as a
girl, she was so amiable and loving."
Another, "I (although these many years
have elapsed) can bear testimony to her extreme amiability of disposition, I always admired her as being such a gentle
good creature."
Another long-loved one, who was a pupil in
Fulneck at the same time with Henrietta, writes, "I loved it dear Miss
Peel! she was so unassuming, and of so amiable a
disposition, it was impossible not to be favourably impressed, in her
company."
Another dearly loved friend with whom she
corresponded, writes: "two or three attempts have taught me the weight
of my heavy task; sometimes I have thought delay might lighten it to you and
to me, but a fear lest I, who loved her so dearly in life, should seem to
stand at a distance from her grave, has made me grasp the unwilling pen, to
write on this all-absorbing grief. I
also think that time, said by some to be "the great healer," can do
little for you, henceforth, I can well imagine how your life must be spent,
even your pleasures, will be in mourning for your lost one. May He comfort you who alone can; it is
only He who smites that can heal - and though all around may be dark, how
dark and drear your bereaved heart can fully testify; yet there is light
above - lift up your eyes and look to it - it is there, - to that heaven of
light and glory that your darling child is gone. Oh! what a treasure you have now above! she has perhaps
been called up higher that she may beckon us away from earth; if this be the
lesson in this dark dispensation, may we have grace to learn it. I would fain add my testimony to the worth
of our beloved Henrietta; though distance rendered personal intercourse out
of the question, yet our friendship suffered no interruption, but was
maintained and increased by a sixteen years' correspondence; here her mind
was at play, for ours was ever a lively intercourse, yet the piety and
excellent sentiments therein contained, render it a tribute to her
memory. Her last letter to me bears
date, October 16th, 1863, and was written in her usual style, full of sweetly expressed
affection for her friends, and breathing such tender love for her Father. She
writes 'when I look at my dear Father, I hope for a mild winter for his
sake.' How little did she then think that the rough blasts of winter would be
as nothing in comparison with the dark season of trouble on which he was so soon to enter.
Another much loved friend writes: “Do not
think of her as dead, but as one of those who have ‘washed their robes and
made them white in the blood of the Lamb.’ who are now singing, ‘Worthy is
the Lamb who was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.’ She cannot come back to us,
but we can go to her, and let us earnestly strive to do so. I can assure you
I feel her loss very much, for I admired and loved
her, and shall often think of the happy hours we have spent in each other’s
society.”
Another dear friend, who was very ill at the
time of Henrietta’s death, writes: “Words cannot describe to you the shock I
felt, having so recently seen dear Miss Peel; whilst on a sick-bed, I have
thought much about the mysteriousness of God’s movements, that your only
child, and such a comfort, should be taken and I spared; but the inward
silent reply was, ‘What thou knowest not now, thou shalt know hereafter,’ and ‘Be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh.”
Another much esteemed friend writes: “We love
our friends in life, but their real worth is most fully known when they are
taken away. Miss Peel lived in the esteem of a large circle of friends; her
loss is felt by many, but most of all by yourself. I trust that Divine grace
will be given to sustain you in your bereavement, and that we shall all
prepare to meet her, where the union will be uninterrupted and the happiness
eternal.”
Another very intimate friend speaks of her in
the following manner: “A severe bereavement brought my dear Miss Peel and me into the closest friendship, the loss on my part of a
beloved and pious father appeared to draw her to me, I can scarcely tell how.
Her Father and mine were on intimate terms, especially in business, and I
knew her Mother, and loved her for her kindness to my eldest brother on his
death-bed, and long before when he was but a very young boy; I remember
visiting her in her last sickness, with my father when he went to pray with
her, and she told him she was once struck with the words of the 103rd Psalm
in Dr. Watts’, which she heard him give out in the Sunday school, as she stood
in the grave-yard before the service, the words were these:
‘God will not
always chide,
And when His strokes
are felt,
His strokes are fewer
than our crimes,
And lighter than our
guilt.’”
When Miss Peel and I became acquainted, I
liked her both for her Mother’s sake and her own, I had heard of her
excellent character, and found her amiable and kind and worthy of the
character which had been given her; from that time a true and lasting
friendship existed up to the day of her death. We often visited each other,
and I always found her the same. She was very regular and punctual in all her
habits, and I generally knew both the days and hours when I might expect her,
and however engaged, always made haste to be ready to receive her, and made a
point of doing nothing while she stayed but conversing with her; I can truly
say they were almost like angel visits for me, I looked forward to them with
great pleasure, and they yielded me satisfaction afterwards. I had many
letters from her when I was from home, and looked for them with more than
common interest, I knew they would be all I could wish for. Besides her
kindness and sympathy, she possessed a highly cultivated and well stored
mind, and could express her thoughts in a beautiful manner, indeed her taste
in general, was one of great elegance and refinement, she did everything
lady-like and in quite a superior style. Miss Peel was a friend that stood by
you, especially in times of affliction, as I experienced more than once, when
her gentle sympathising spirit and converse, operated as a soothing and
healing balm. I suffered a severe loss in her death, which deprived me of one
of my kindest and best friends, but I am thankful for having enjoyed her
friendship so long, and shall retain a grateful recollection of it while
memory holds its seat, and fondly hope it was but the prelude to a still more
perfect and lasting friendship in a higher and better state of existence.”
Another highly esteemed, and venerable friend,
the Rev. P. S—tt writes of her thus, “Miss Peel sustained the female
character with great propriety and beauty, having more of its excellence and
fewer of its defects than most, while she had the warmth, tenderness, and
delicacy, which are its chief ornaments; there was nothing weak, feeble, or
impulsive, about her. She possessed a vigorous and well balanced mind,
greatly improved by education, extensive reading, and diligent
self-cultivation, which fitted her to shine in almost any circle, and made
her an intelligent and interesting companion, and a valuable correspondent.
But though well qualified to shine in public, being of a modest and retiring
disposition, and possessing a meek and quiet spirit, she was seen to great
advantage in private life, in the domestic circle, and by her intimate friends,
for the better she was known, the more she was esteemed and loved. As a
Christian, Miss Peel was evangelical in sentiment and loved to hear the
Gospel; devout and pious without ostentation; and scrupulously exact in her
conduct. She was not merely blameless, but exemplary in all the relations of
life. She was a most dutiful daughter; her father lost his best earthly
friend when she was taken away. May it be made up to him by the friendship of
One who will be better to him “than seven sons and daughters, and who will
never leave nor forsake him.”
Miss Peel was welcomed with
pleasure as a visitor; her conversational powers being such as to enable her
to adapt herself in a very pleasing and agreeable manner, to the society in
which she might be placed. Being passionately fond of reading works by the
most celebrated authors, choice selections of poetry, together with many of
the leading topics of the day, she had always a subject ready, and those who
heard her were sure to derive pleasure, and often instruction.
As a Christian her example was
worthy of imitation. She exemplified by her daily life that she was not only
a “hearer of the word,” but a doer also, manifesting the fruits of the spirit
— “Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness,
temperance;” worshiping her Redeemer in the spirit of the Publican of old,
rather than in that of the Pharisee. She was regular in her attendance at the
house of God, excepting when prevented by sickness; being gifted with a
remarkably good memory, she would often surprise her friends by repeating to
them the substance of valuable discourses which it was her privilege to hear,
and expressing the comfort and consolation she derived from them.
Though partial to the Church of
England, Miss Peel was a friend to other denominations of Christians, with
whom it was her pleasure frequently to join in Divine worship.
As she advanced in life, until
within about a year of her departure, her general health seemed to improve,
and her delicate constitution to become stronger, and her Father and friends
hoped she might be blessed with a long and useful life.
But
such was not to be. During the last year of her sojourn on earth she
experienced several painful bereavements by the death of relatives; two of
whom were especially dear to her, viz., her cousin, Mrs. W—’s daughter,
Lizzie, and her dear Aunt Peel, who died on the 22nd of August, 1863, whose
loss she deeply mourned.
Soon
after this bereavement her most intimate friends began to think she looked
thinner, and often far from well, though she did not complain, excepting of
occasional prostration of strength, and greater difficulty of breathing,
especially after a little over-exertion.
On
the 5th of November, she accompanied her dear friend Miss D—n and the writer
of this sketch to Leeds, on which occasion they spent a
very pleasant day in each other’s company, the last on this side the grave.
Miss
Peel bore the journey pretty well, better than her looks warranted, and after
a good rest, was in her usual health up to the 13th, when she found she had
taken cold, and must remain in the house a few days.
On
the evening of the 14th, she was very ill for a few hours, having great
difficulty in breathing.
The
following morning, Sunday, the 15th, she was rather better, though weak and
poorly still. The writer called to see her in the afternoon; in answer to her
enquiries she said she was rather better, and spoke hopefully of being out in
a few days; she was quite cheerful, and conversed on several interesting subjects.
The writer experienced a strange reluctance to leave her, and sat down twice
after rising to go the feeling seemed to be mutual — Miss Peel saying, “I am sorry you are going, but it
would be selfish to keep you, the afternoon is so fine, and the walk and
services will do you good; you can get out so seldom.”
On
the Monday and Tuesday she was still very poorly. On the Wednesday morning she said she felt better; also on
Thursday she continued apparently improving until about half-past five
o'clock in the evening, when having taken tea as usual, in a little while she
went upstairs, and shortly after Mr. Peel heard a suppressed call, "Father!"
he directly went up to see what she wanted, and found her standing in her
bedroom, apparently bleeding from her nose; she said "Father I am going
to die!" Mr. Peel assisted her to a chair, and greatly agitated came to
ask the writer to go on immediately, saying, he feared Henrietta was dying.
I was with her in a few minutes; as I entered her room she looked at me
saying, Miss C. "I am going to die!" Oh! I hope not Miss Peel, you
appear to have been bleeding from the nose, perhaps it will do you good,
don't be alarmed. "No," she said, "I am going to die." I
suggested send- for the doctor; her father asked her if he might send for
Dr. R—d as being near. "No," she said. I mentioned her old
physician, Dr. M—k. "Yes," she said. Mr. Peel left us
to send off a messenger to Bradford. Miss Peel
then looked up to me very beseechingly saying, "pray for me," and
she prayed for herself, "Lord have mercy on me, and forgive all my
sins." "Lord. help me." I ejaculated
prayers as well as I could, that our Saviour would comfort and bless her,
repeating for her,
“Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let
me to thy bosom fly,
While
the nearer waters roll,
While
the tempest still is high.
Hide
me Oh! my Saviour hide,
Till
the storm of life be past,
Safe
into the haven guide,
Oh!
receive my soul at last."
to which she fervently responded, "Amen." She seemed very desirous to express something that
was on her mind, but could only articulate "I should like to
say," and "What will become of my poor Father!"
On her Father's return, he brought with him
two of her Cousins; I then suggested a little brandy should be got for her,
having previously unloosed her dress, &c., to relieve her breathing, and
wrapped a shawl about her as she seemed chilly. Having taken a few
teaspoonsful of the brandy which seemed to revive her a little, she again
said, "Pray for me." I asked if she would like W. D—n, a pious neighbour, whom she highly esteemed, to come in and pray
with her, to which she assented. Mr. Peel went for him at once, he came and
spoke very kindly to her, directing her to look to Christ Jesus as her only
refuge, and then besought our Saviour to strengthen and bless her, to take
her into His care and keeping, and be her support in all her time of need, to
which she again fervently responded, "Amen." I said, does that comfort you, Miss Peel? "Yes," she
said. Thinking she would be easier, I asked if she would like to be lifted on
to her bed, "Yes," she said. I drew her chair gently to the side,
and aided by her Cousins and W. D., she was placed on her bed, propped up in
a sitting posture, and her feet wrapped in warm flannel as they were very cold;
she then said, "Rest." In a little while she looked up to
me, uttered my name and took my hand; another short interval elapsed, when
she said once more "Pray." W. D. knelt down again, and while we were thus engaged a calm smile
passed over her face, she seemed to fall into a light slumber, and was
apparently in a quiet sleep, when he rose and left the room.
Her distressed father now looked
in, and perceiving her changed, said, "She is dying!" and turned away in an agony of grief; it
was the last time he looked upon her loved countenance! She remained quiet
as if in sleep, for a little while, and then after two or three slight
struggles for breath, all was still; her gentle spirit had fled, but those
around could not believe she was gone - so quietly had she passed away. Among
her neighbours many were the expressions of heartfelt sorrow and respect for
the departed, and on the morning of the 25th November, 1863, large crowds assembled to witness her
funeral, many among them having put on mourning, thus testifying their sorrow
and sympathy. Her remains were interred beside those of her Mother in the
family vault, with every mark of respect and affection, in St. Paul’s Church-yard, Shipley.
On the following
Sunday, the Revd. William Kelly, Incumbent,
preached a deeply impressive sermon from the words “For yourselves know
perfectly that the day of the Lord so
cometh as a thief in the night.” – 1 Thessalonians, v. 2.
“A soul prepared needs no delays,
When summoned it at once obeys,
Swift was her flight, and short the
road,
She closed her eyes, and saw her
God,
Her body rests, till Jesus comes,
To claim the treasure from the
tomb.”
The
unexpected removal of our dear friend teaches us a lesson of constant
watchfulness, which if we learn, she will not have died in vain.
Called
away almost without warning, there was no opportunity for those death-bed
utterances to which survivors so often implicitly trust. Well indeed is it
that we have here, what after all is of far greater import, the testimony of
a well-spent life.
The
suddenness of the event forcibly reminds us of the parable of the Ten
Virgins; both wise and foolish slept till the summons suddenly came. “Behold
the Bridegroom cometh! go ye forth to meet Him: Then
all those virgins arose and trimmed their lamps.” We most fervently hope and
trust that our dear friend had oil in her vessel, and that in her robe “made
white in the blood of the Lamb,” she joined the train of the Heavenly
Bridegroom.
Thou art gone
to the grave! but we’ll not deplore
thee,
Tho’ sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb;
Thy Saviour
has passed through its portals before
thee,
And the lamp
of His love, is thy guide through the
gloom.
Thou art gone
to the grave: we no longer behold
thee,
Nor tread the
rough paths of the world by thy side;
But the wide
arms of mercy are spread to enfold
thee,
And sinners
may die, for the SINLESS has died.
Thou art gone
to the grave! And its mansion for-
saking,
Perchance thy
weak spirit in fear lingered long;
And the mild
rays of Paradise beam’d on thy waking
And the sound
which thou heard’st, was the sera-
phim’s song.
Thou art gone
to the grave! But we’ll not deplore
thee,
For God was
thy ransom, thy guardian, thy guide;
He gave thee,
He took thee, and He will restore thee,
And death has
no sting, for the Saviour has died.
The bereaved Father anxious to pay every
tribute of respect and affection to her memory, has had a beautiful Memorial
Window put in the Church, of which the accompanying is a view; it represents
the three virtues, Faith, Hope and Charity, which, united, form an epitome of the
whole duty of a Christian, each of which is commanded and necessary; but the
first, the greatest, the most excellent, and the most indispensable of which
is Charity.
Faith teaches us to receive, without
doubting, doctrines which we cannot comprehend, on the testimony of God who
has taught them; to wait with patience till our faculties are enlarged, and
the obstacles to our knowledge removed; and in the mean time, with the
humility and simplicity of children, to receive, venerate and love the hidden
and mysterious truths taught us by the invisible and incomprehensible Deity.
Hope teaches us to look forward with humble
confidence to the future, it gives peace to the
mind, not by imparting a certainty of future happiness, but by inspiring a
firm yet humble confidence in the promises, the mercy, and the merits of Christ.
Charity is a virtue which does not consist
merely in relieving the distressed, comforting the sorrowful, clothing the
naked, and similar works of kindness; this sacred virtue teaches us to love
our neighbour as ourselves, in thought, in word and in deed, to assist him in
his distress, to comfort him in his sorrows, to advise him in his doubts,
correct his errors, and, as far as lies in his power, promote all his
temporal and spiritual interests.
“And now abideth
Faith, Hope, Charity, these three, but the greatest of
these is Charity.” — 1
Corinthians, xiii., 14.
F I N I S.
___________________
BRADFORD: PRINTED BY
JOHN DALE AND CO.
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