ut to bed.
About two o'clock in the morning my husband got up, and having gone out
of my chamber, he returned presently, crying out with all his might,
"My daughter is dead!" She was my only daughter, as dearly beloved as
truly lovely. She had so many graces both of body and mind conferred on
her, that one must have been insensible not to have loved her. She had
an extraordinary share of love to God. Often was she found in corners
at prayer. As soon as she perceived me at prayer, she came and joined.
If she discovered that I had been without her, she would weep bitterly
and cry, "Ah, mamma, you pray but I don't." When we were alone and she
saw my eyes closed she would whisper, "Are you asleep?" Then she would
cry out, "Ah no, you are praying to our dear Jesus." Dropping on her
knees before me she would begin to pray too. She was several times
whipped by her grandmother, because she said, she would never have any
other husband but our Lord. She could never make her say otherwise. She
was innocent and modest as a little angel; very dutiful and endearing,
and withal very beautiful. Her father doted on her, to me she was very
dear, much more for the qualities of her mind than those of her
beautiful person. I looked upon her as my only consolation on earth.
She had as much affection for me, as her brother had aversion and
contempt. She died of an unseasonable bleeding. But what shall I say?
She died by the hands of Him who was pleased, for wise reasons of His
own, to strip me of all.
There now remained to me only the son of my sorrow. He fell ill to the
point of death, but was restored at the prayer of Mother Granger who
was now my only consolation after God. I no more wept for my child than
for my father. I could only say, "Thou, O Lord, gave her to me; it
pleases Thee to take her back again, for she was Thine." As for my
father, his virtue was so generally known, that I must rather be
silent, than enter upon the subject. His reliance on God, his faith and
patience were wonderful. Both died in July, 1672. Henceforth crosses
were not spared me, and though I had abundance of them hitherto, yet
they were only the shadows of those which I have been since obliged to
pass through. In this spiritual marriage I claimed for my dowry only
crosses, scourges, persecutions, ignominies, lowliness, and nothingness
of self, which in God's great goodness, and for wise ends, as I have
seen, has been pleased to grant and confer upon me.
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