O Lord, prosper Thou his journey
to yonder land! I feel deeply for him. O bless him, Lord!"
Oh! what a world of care,
Anxiety and grief!
How multiplied our sorrows are!
Where shall we find relief?
Our lov'd ones come, and glad we are
To see their smiling face;
But brief these transient visits are,
And _then_, the last embrace.
"Mrs. Nightingale came to meet two women in distress for their souls.
They wept sore, and found encouragement. I felt it good to mingle my
petitions with their's. [This was the commencement of a class at her
own residence, conducted by Mrs. N., and formed especially for my
mother's accommodation. Up to this time she was nominally a leader,
but since her removal to Heworth, she had but very occasionally been
able to ride down to the city, and mingle in the communion of saints,
a privilege, the loss of which she had deeply felt. The provision thus
made was therefore a source of unspeakable comfort. Mrs. Nightingale
says, "We found her at the appointed time, but oftener before, sitting
in prayerful silence, waiting upon God. At such times her countenance
was most heavenly; lit up with a light and glory, which bespoke
her relation to, and hidden life with, her divine Lord. It was our
privilege, when she was able, to listen to the words of wisdom and
instruction which fell from her lips. Her deep acquaintance with the
word of God, and the holy unction with which she spoke, caused those
present to say, 'This is none other but the house of God, and this is
the gate of heaven.
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