Her hymns and her letters form an interchangeable commentary. Both are the simple and fresh outpourings of her soul. In one of her letters we find her tremulously approaching the mystery of the Creator becoming a Sufferer:
'My mind at present is looking on Jesus bearing the crown of thorns and the scarlet robe, and afterwards in His great sufferings upon the cross. It is not to be wondered at that the sun should hide its beams when its Creator was pierced with nails! My mind stands astonished when I consider the Person who suffered on the cross--He 64 whose eyes are as a flame of fire piercing through heaven and earth, at the same time unable to see the work of His hands when darkness was over all the earth! My mind is overwhelmed with too much astonishment to say any more. No wonder that word is written down--"The Lord is well pleased for His righteousness' sake; He will magnify the law and make it honourable": and the other word--"Kiss the Son, lest He be angry." Would that the remainder of my days were a season of unfaltering fellowship with Christ and His sufferings, and with the Father through Him!'
The same spiritual emotion can be traced in these verses, almost line by line:
| Heaven sweetly will remember The decree of Three in One, Ever gazing on the Person Who became a Son of Man: In fulfilling the conditions Dying sorrow pierced His soul; Now the host no man can number Mightily His praise extol. | | In remembering the battle, All my tears for joy are dried; Free for ever stands the sinner, While the law is magnified: For the peace of man behold Him-- Life's Almighty Author slain! And the Resurrection buried For an endless human gain! | | 65 In the midst, between two robbers, There the great Atonement died; And by Him the arm was strengthened Which could dare to pierce His side: When His Father's law was honoured, And the sinner's ransom paid, Justice stood in shining glory-- We were free and undismayed. | | King of kings, and great Rest-giver! See, my soul, His lowly bed! All creation in Him movèd, He within the grave lay dead! Wonder of the holy angels, Life of those who once were lost: Unto Him, the God Incarnate, Sing the great adoring host. | |