Letter Written on the Death of Mrs J. F. Mawson

I was at the interment of dear Mrs. Mawson, wife of our brother, J. F. Mawson, who died after a few days’ illness. She was greatly beloved, and deservedly so.

Death makes sad havoc here below. How cheering it is to look forward to the day that is coming in which there shall be no more, death, neither sorrow, crying, nor pain—when tears shall be wiped from off all faces, and we shall be with Him who made that day possible. At what great cost He did it! The work has been accomplished, and the bringing of that day is but a matter of detail. Then there shall be no more sea—nothing to separate us one from another. When here I want to be with you all in America. and when in America I want to be with all here, and the impossibility of this makes the heart sad. But the future is bright with hope, and what a contrast we shall find heaven to be to earth, and sight to faith. May the Lord hasten that glorious day. It strengthened the hearts of the saints in all past dispensations. They saw that day afar off, and it had a powerful effect upon their lives. The things of that day they saw afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. But now for us the day has drawn nigh. We do not see the things “afar off,” but near at hand. Well, God knows. But we are a feeble failing people, and worthless to all except Christ, and He has counted us “the excellent of the earth,” and for us has shed His blood. We are precious in His sight. We are the fruit of the travail of His soul, and that day shall manifest it to His eternal praise and to the satisfaction of His heart—blessed be His holy name.

Shall we meet on earth again? The answer is with God. We are sure to meet in heaven. But if He will, and I am kept here, I do not despair of making another journey across the deep. We have now many ties in America.