Annandale Past and Present 1839-1900
Chapter XXIV. — The Angel of Death
Chapter XXIV.
The Angel of Death.
God gives patience, Love learns strength,
And Faith remembers promise,
And Hope itself can smile at length
On other hopes gone from us.
Love strong as death shall conquer death,
Through struggle made more glorious.
This mother stills her sobbing breath,
Renouncing, yet victorious.
Sorrow, sudden and severe, once more fell upon our home when our youngest child, Thomas Guthrie, the darling of the household, was taken from us, at the age of six years and nine months. He died on the morning of the 26th June, 1891, after an illness of only four hours. We cannot dwell on the anguish of that time. God alone knows why our bright hopes should be thus quenched in the dark mystery of death. "He doeth all things well," and the darkness is only here, and now.
"Whoe'er would read this world aright
Must walk by faith, and not by sight."
We can but cling to this faith, believing "God loveth whom he chasteneth." Our bright loving boy shall live in each heart, the sweet, winsome child he was when God took him "to gladden in His view" till "after a few patient page 316years one home shall take us all in." …. The comfort and sweetness of these thoughts have crept into our hearts, giving a nobler, fuller meaning to our lives since we are linked by love's closest bonds to our little one in Heaven.
" We know he will but keep
Our own and His, until we fall asleep
He will not take the spirits which He gave and make
The glorified so new that they are lost to me and you."
In the beautiful words of Dr. Hugh McMillan, we can truly say —
"Kind death has saved him all the waste of life,
Conserved his beauty at the fairest point,
And kept for us our boy in Heaven, unchanged,
Through all our changes—an immortal child
To love for evermore."
Our father's "Sacred Lyrics," from which we have already quoted, abound in comfort and hope, as thess lines—a few out of many that gave us soothing thoughts—will show.
"If infants none in Heaven were found
To glad its golden street,
But only star-bright victors crowned,
Then Heaven were incomplete.
Such stars may gem Christ's diadem,
Yet infants too have place,
These flowerets young are garlands strung,
Sweet trophies of His grace."
Dr. Gardiner, of Glasgow, and Rev. T. Orr, of Crouch End, London, our dear uncles—on both sides—died after page 318lingering illnesses, the first-named a little before, and the latter a year after this time Both had finished the work given them to do, and were ready to "enter into rest."
After eighteen years of widowhood our dear old mother was laid to rest by the spot where her beloved husband was interred in Craigton Cemetery of Glasgow.
" Arms of love are round thee doubling
On the Saviour's breast,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary rest.
Long it was thy soul's ambition
There to wing its flight.
Lo! thy hope is now fruition,
And thy faith is sight,"
These lines are from "Christian Rest," one of her favourite poems in our father's collection—"Sacred Lyrics."
How good to believe that now they are together again, and know—"even as also they are known."