Sweethearts and Wives CHAPTER 17.
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Three weeks from the day on which Mr. Milnor and his wife returned to Westbrook, and when he had become perfectly restored to health, they were summoned to the sick chamber of Julia Williams.
A few friends were seated around her bed when they entered, and the husband and mother bent tenderly over her, and each clasped one of her white, transparent hands. She was evidently near her death, but conscious of its approach. As Grace and her husband entered, she smiled faintly, but with a heavenly expression, and withdrawing the hand that lay in her husband's, extended it feebly first to one and then to the other.
"I am glad to see you once more," she said to Grace, in a faint whisper, as the latter bent down and kissed her, "and for the last time here. But death cannot really part those who love each other. Think of me, as I shall often think of you — and our thoughts will bring us near together."
Again Grace kissed her fervently, the tears gushing from her eyes, and then sought a chair and wept in silence. The scene touched her deeply from two causes: one, its own intrinsic pathos; and the other, the vivid recollection that it awakened of a somewhat similar scene in which she had been an actor.
Then followed a deep silence, but not an oppressive one to any. A pure, spiritual atmosphere of confiding thoughts, and holy, elevated affections, pervaded the room, and sustained every mind. It was the parting hour of one who had loved good and obeyed the truth, from genuine affection for them. A celestial warmth pervaded each bosom, and caused them to think only of heavenly beatitudes, and to love only pure and holy things.
Even Grace lost, in this atmosphere, the terrors with which death had ever before seemed invested. She soon found, in gazing upon the placid, holy, innocent face of the departing one — a feeling of wonder, and yet heavenly joy, taking possession of her mind. Fully did she appreciate the words which softly fell from the lips of the dying one as she looked into her mother's face, and murmured,
"It is not death, dear mother, but life! — a brief journey through a dark passage, in which I shall be borne by celestial attendants, whose love for me, as they draw nearer and nearer on their mission of delight, is even now filling my bosom with a heavenly warmth. To me it will not be painful — oh, do not let it be so to you! In a little while we shall meet again!"
It would be impossible to convey in written words, the exquisite tenderness with which this was uttered. It was music to every ear, for the low tones of her voice were full of a genuine affection for the truth she uttered.
"Yes, dear, we shall soon meet again," Mrs. Lawson replied, in a low, trembling voice. "Think of us often with love in your blessed home, and then you will be near, very near to us. Thus we shall ever think of you."
Mr. Williams' heart was too full to be able to utter a word. He sat leaning over towards her, intently gazing into her face, as if eager to catch every gleam of thought, every glance of affection which played over it; knowing, as he did too well, that the exquisite instrument by which her sweet spirit revealed itself, would soon be laid aside, forever tuneless; that to his natural eyes, her dear form would be invisible; that to his natural ears, the music of her voice would never again come. No wonder that his natural affections were deeply pained; no wonder that to him, the affliction seemed at times, more than he could bear; but a deep religious principle formed the basis of his mind, and into this flowed a trust in divine Providence, and a consciousness that this deep affliction was one of the links in a chain of events intended to prepare him for higher felicities in a never-ending future life — than he could have possibly enjoyed without its influence. It was this which sustained him. It was this which enabled him to look up, and say, "May Your will, not mine, be done; for Infinite Wisdom cannot err — nor Goodness be unkind."
A silence of nearly half an hour followed a few words spoken by Julia in reply to her mother, during which time she seemed gradually, but very perceptibly, receding from earth. Her eyes were slightly elevated, but fixed; her lips less frequently trembling with smiles, while her breathing had grown shallower and more frequent. At the end of the time named, her body was slightly agitated, her countenance changed rapidly, and she raised herself partly up, as if awaking from a dream. Then she sank back, and closed her eyes. In this state, she lay for nearly half an hour longer, when she opened her eyes again, but with looks of affection, and turned them upon her husband.
"We shall meet again — " she murmured, as he drew her towards him, and placed her head upon his bosom.
She did not speak audibly again, but once. As she lay, with her dimming eyes fixed upon his face, her lips moved, and his ear, as he bent lower, caught the words,
"We shall meet — "
Gently her eyes closed upon earthly things, and softly her bodily senses sank into nature's last most peaceful sleep; while her spirit, as she had sweetly said, was with the God who had come to sustain and guard her in the hour of dissolution.
"Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his," said Lewis Milnor, compressing his yet quivering lips, as, ten minutes afterward, he seated himself in Mrs. Ellis' parlor, with Grace and her aunt by his side.
"It is only the righteous who die thus," Mrs. Ellis returned.
"And only the righteous who can allow their friends to depart as Julia Williams has just departed," added Milnor. "I always had a high regard for the moral character of my friend Williams, but never knew before that it had been based upon Christian principles; that he could so elevate his mind into a profound confidence in Him, who governs all things for our good. While I deeply sympathize with him in his loss, I cannot but feel that, in the possession of principles which can sustain him in such a trial, he is indeed blessed."
"May the lesson we have this day received, never be lost upon us," Mrs. Ellis said. "If trust in the Lord, growing out of a daily effort to act upon the good and the true principles which flow from Him, and because they are His principles — then He will give sustenance for such an hour. Let us, my children, from henceforth look up. Let us, in every act of life, pause and think thus: Am I now acting in obedience to a heavenly principle — or from merely selfish ends? How will this affect that never-ending life, which I shall soon enter upon? And we may be sure, if we decide these questions aright — that strength will be given us to perform every duty, and to bear up under every trial."
Grace only wept more freely at this, for it brought back the past, with its selfishness and stubborn pride, to her mind; but her tears were not so much tears of regret and pain — as tears of tender promise and hope for the future.
"May He spare us long for each other," she said, in a low voice, lifting her tearful eyes to her husband's face.
"And He will spare us, I trust, and spare us long enough to see that the late trials and afflictions through which we have passed — were only blessings in disguise," Milnor said, pressing her tenderly to his side.
"I feel even now that they were such; that worlds of light have been discovered in the darkness which gathered around us," Grace replied, as she shrank close to his side.
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