The Life And Testimony Of Harriet Smith

Gospel Standard 1867:

Harriet Smith, the wife of David Smith, of Siddle Hall, Halifax, died Oct. 10th, 1867, in her 48th year, after a long and painful affliction, arising from cancer in the breast. The Lord says, “Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth him out of them all.” And, truly, her bodily affliction was one of the most trying and painful that can be imagined; but under it all, I never heard her say she had one pain too many; nor did she ever murmur or complain, not even when distracted to such a degree that I thought she would be driven mad.

The Lord, in whom she was enabled to put her trust for time and eternity, and in whom she was for many years enabled to confide, graciously supported her and granted her strength according to her day. This he promised her at the commencement of her affliction; but, nevertheless, it was tried, tried by unbelief and tried by the devil, as the few following expressions will prove. The Lord who spoke that promise home to her soul, declares that “the grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of our God shall stand for ever;” and that was her consolation many times, as the few broken dying expressions will show. I shall give them exactly as they were expressed in my own hearing. They will show to the living what some of the dying have to contend with before they depart this life. I do this, that some of the Lord’s poor, tempted, tried, and distressed ones may gather a crumb of encouragement in their darkest moments, when tried by sin and Satan. That they may not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try them, as though some strange thing had happened to them. (1 Pet. 4:12.)

A few days before she died, she said, “O! I hope I maybe able to retain my senses; for my mind is so distracted. I feel as if I could endure anything if the Lord would appear again for me. The pains of my body are nothing compared with the pains of my mind. I wish I had never made a profession of religion at all, and had never spoken to any one about my feelings; for I fear, after all my profession, that I am deceived, and that I have deceived others also. I am in darkness and can get no light. I am in bondage and can get no liberty. I have prayed until I cannot pray, and I am tempted not to pray any more, and yet I am compelled to cry, ‘Lord, help me.’ O! I was some time since so harassed and tempted by the devil to put an end to my life! He stood before me like a roaring lion, and as though he would devour me. I had to fill my mouth with the bedclothes to keep me from blaspheming the name of the Lord who has done such great things for me in days gone by. I said at that time, ‘O Lord, drive that old dragon away from me;’ and after a time the Lord did drive him away and delivered me, for which I feel truly thankful to him. I felt assured it was the dear Lord that did it, for I had no power to do it myself; but now I am again in darkness of soul, and he hides himself from me and will not deliver; therefore I fear I shall be lost at last. I think I could bear all my bodily sufferings patiently if the Lord would but speak a word of comfort to my poor soul at this time. I fear the Lord only delivered me before that he might bring me to shame at last and leave me to perish; and yet I have sometimes had a distant sort of a hope, although it is a faint one, that he would not have showed me those things it’ he intended to destroy me. He told me at the time my breast was cut off, two years ago, when death stared me in the face, that strength should be given me according to my day, and he has hitherto granted me that, and has been with me in every time of need; but now I am imprisoned and he stands aloof from me. O what shall I do? My only cry is, ‘Lord, make haste to help me; make haste to deliver me, O thou God of my salvation. But he does not. What shall I do, and what will become of me at last, if I die in this state of mind? O! He shutteth out my prayer, and regardeth me not. I know I have no claim upon his bounty.”

She once called me to her bedside, and said, “I think I cannot be long here if these inward pains continue; for they are grinding me to death. The Lord deals gently with me to-day, and has been as good as his promise to me hitherto, saying, ‘I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.’ He has also said that his everlasting arms are underneath me; and on that promise and his everlasting arms I am resting and waiting until my change come. I feel thankful that I have never been allowed to rebel against his dealings with me in this long and painful affliction, neither do I now wish to raise one murmuring word, but to wait his appointed time, in humble submission to his sovereign will; but I was tempted to think the Lord was dealing hard with me when he suffered the adversary to tempt me to destroy myself and to blaspheme his holy name, when I had to thrust the bedclothes into my mouth to prevent words coming out. But, bless his holy name, I was delivered both from the tempter and his temptations too.”

At this time she was very weak in body, but her mind was fully settled and established in the faithfulness of Jehovah, as an unchanging and abiding Friend and Helper. I said to her, “O what a good thing it is to have a religion in dying circumstances which does not depend on our frames and feelings.” She replied, “That is a great mercy for me, for I can do nothing to alter my feelings nor change my darkness into light, no, not if heaven depended upon it. God has brought me into deep waters where there is no standing, and I am weary of my crying. My throat is dried, my eyes fail while I wait for my God; but after all he is my light and my salvation, nor shall I be satisfied till I awake up in his likeness.”

On Oct. 4th she said, “Satan is the accuser of the brethren, and he is come again to tease and torment me. He is trying to grind me to pieces as in a coffee mill; but he will soon have done with me; for,

“‘Though painful at present, ’twill cease before long,
And then O how pleasant the conqueror’s song.’

I want to be at rest and get home, for I am

“‘Weary of earth, myself, and sin,'” &c.

I then said to her, “It is hard work to die.” She said, “It is; but we have to endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ. O how good God has been to me in my long affliction! He has not suffered me to murmur or complain. What he does is best, and is rightly done.”

Oct. 5th. “The Lord has not shown me these things to destroy me; nor doth it yet appear what I shall be; but I shall soon be like him, and shall see him as he is. I shall not be many days longer here; but I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded he is able to keep that which I have committed into his hand against that day; and he will take care of it too, nor will he allow Satan to destroy me. He has thrust hard at me; but the Lord has now delivered me from him. I think now he will not come again to trouble me.

“‘I shall soon be landed
On yonder shores of bliss,
And, with my soul expanded,
Shall dwell where Jesus is.'”

She then quoted a verse out of Hymn 386:

“‘Let a poor tempest-tossed soul
That peaceful harbour see;
Where waves and billows never roll;
For there I long to be.'”

I said to her, for she was quite sensible, and could speak so as to be heard up to this time, “The Lord has been good to us during the last 30 years in the wilderness.” She said, “He has been good. What boundless mercies we have been the receivers of; and what a mercy for me that I have not my religion to seek on a dying bed, but that God has, as an act of his own free grace, given it to me. If I had anything to do now toward it in the way of helping and saving myself, I could not do it.” She said, “The grace of God has kept me from many evils I should have run into; for which I desire to praise the Lord and to give thanks to his blessed name before I leave you, and I know he will never hear the last of it in an upper and a better world, where sin and Satan cannot enter to mar the song.”

She said many other things of a similar character which I did not write down at the time.

Oct. 6th. One of the persons who was in attendance upon her, a sister in the faith and a member with her in the church, while she was wiping the sweat from her forehead, said, “Jesus sweat great drops of blood.” “Yes,” she replied, “he did, for poor sinners like you and me; but I dare say there was no one to dry them off his face, for they fell down to the ground in clots.”

On Oct. 7th, as the same person was giving her a little water, she said, “I shall soon need no more water to drink, for I shall be where they neither hunger nor thirst.” She seemed now to have gained the victory, through the Lord Jesus Christ, and it was applied by the blessed Spirit the Comforter. She then went off into a sleep, and slept about 30 hours. After this she awoke, and the pains in her breast returned; and it was really pitiable to hear her mournful cries. These pains lasted for a few hours. I felt so distressed to hear those meanings and groanings that I could net tell what to do; but I went out into a private place to beg of the Lord to grant her at least a little relief before he took the soul from the body; and, bless his precious name, he did; for he caused her to go off again to sleep, and she slept herself to death. “He heareth the needy when he crieth.” Yes, and “he looked down from the height of his sanctuary, from heaven did the Lord behold the earth, to hear the groaning of the prisoner and to loose those who are appointed to death.”

She died on the morning of Oct. 10th, apparently without a struggle or a groan, and has gone to enjoy that rest she longed for. There was

“A mortal paleness on her cheek,
But glory in her soul.”

To sit beside a dying saint
Is solemn work indeed,
When that poor saint is crying out,
And begging to be freed;
To be set free from sin and death,
From darkness, fears, and foes,
And from that fierce accuser too
Who does the saints oppose.
Yes, lie who like a lion roars
Would, if he could, devour,
And tear the soul up, root and branch,
In such a trying hour.
This makes one cry, “Lord Jesus, come;
Come quickly to relieve
This tried and tempted soul of mine,
So anxious to be freed;
“Freed from this tenement of clay
And this old man of sin,
To be received where Jesus is,
And with the saints shut in.”
But we must wait the appointed time,
Before our change will come,
Or the bless’d Spirit set us free
And take his ransom’d home.
‘Tis painful work to stand around
A parent’s dying bed,
When every means has fail’d to give
Ease to the heart and head.
To see the trembling frame give way
With running sores and sighs,
And the poor soul cast down within
Emitting mournful cries;
To see the heartstrings nature holds
Break down, decay, and die,
Gives pain, distress, and pity too,
To all the standers-by.
These things combine to make one say,
“Lord, set the spirit free,
And to its mansion take it home
Where it shall dwell with thee.”
To see the children weep and sigh
With hearts o’erwhelm’d with grief
Around the dying parent’s bed,
But cannot give relief;
This makes one leave the room, and cry,
“Lord, help, and mercy send.
And undertake the work thyself,
Thou precious heavenly Friend;
“For thou alone hast sovereign power
To help in such a state.
Then may we look to thee alone,
Who did the world create.
“And let us at thy blessed will
Prostrate before thee fall,
And leave our souls and bodies too
With thee, the Lord of all,
“Who hast a right to do with us
As it may please thee best,
Before we leave this world of woe
To enter into rest.
“Then let thy sovereign will be done,
And may we now submit,
Without a murmur or complaint,
At thy dear sacred feet.
“Our every pain is known to thee,
And all our sorrows too;
And thou wilt every pain relieve
And bring us safely through.
“That we with thee may ever reign
On yonder shores of bliss,
And there behold our Saviour’s face,
And see him as he is.
“Then shall our nobler powers admin.”
The wonders of thy grace,
And sing the everlasting song
Among the chosen race.”

David Smith