i8 5 6.] 



HIS MOTHER'S DEATH 



147 



welcomed her to their house ; and she poured forth her heart 

 to Philip. He replied : — 



" Dearest Sister, 



" You say 6 you dear people have no difference in 

 your homes.' Not to the outward eye; but, oh ! how it seems 

 as if the only link was broken that bound me to life and work. 

 The thought of my mother was the only one that made this 

 even the shadow of a home to me ; everything I did had refer- 

 ence to her ; the only pleasure was, when something happened 

 that I could write her that she would like : and how often the 

 one thought of her alone kept me to my way of life, and re- 

 strained me from utter uncontrol. The only strong hope that 

 I had allowed myself to cherish has now been granted, that I 

 might be kept going during her life without bringing her into 

 sorrow. I never dared to wish she should recover; I felt it 

 was far better that she should enter into her rest — ^but for me 

 all is now a blank. I know you all love me most tenderly ; 

 and yet this very love I find it hard to bear. There is such a 

 thing as a broken heart, when it cannot bear sympathy. And if 

 my body should sink under it, pray, dear people, don't come to 

 nurse me, but let me be quiet, quite quiet, for that is what I can 

 bear best. I do not in the least doubt the Father's love ; and 

 I know, if He has more work for me to do, He will give me 

 strength to do it ; but I have no desire at all for life ; and when 

 the struggles weaken the body, I welcome such signs that the 

 powers of life may fail. I seek, in my mother's verse, to ' wait 

 on the Lord.' I know it is very ungrateful not to be happy, 

 and I strive hard to be cheerful : but it is always forced ; and a 

 minister ought to be cheerful. I can do the sorrow-sympathy 

 well enough ; but with rich folk and children one must have a 

 cheerful way, to do good. Well, it will open out in its time. I 

 have ties of work enough to keep me for the present ; only if I 

 should be ill, do leave me alone, I beg : and don't, dear sister, 

 answer this letter, or write to me more than you can help, 

 till after the Association ; for it will only be by the greatest 

 economy of time and strength and feeling that I shall be able 



