By Andrew Bonar
GLASGOW, 17th March 1858.
MY DEAR MRS. MANSON,--Thanks for writing me, for in truth I was meditating to write you (i.e. your husband and you=one), but could not make out whereabouts you were at this time. I am glad you are to be near Crieff ; we may see you now and then. But I will be afraid to say much to Mr. Manson about ministerial work, lest thereby I sadden him,--only he is one who can say, 'It is the Lord,' and so be as content to sit still as to labour--
'They also serve who only stand and wait.'
Indeed this is by far the most self-denying work, and so may be found the most glorifying to God. I cannot but hope, too, that the Master has some work for Mr. Manson. Tell him that Wycliffe, when forbidden by the bishop to preach for a season, set the more eagerly to his translation, and remind him that Southwood may become a Wartburg, and he a Luther!
As for yourself, no doubt your change of life, the very removal of former cares, and the kind of vacation-state you are in, will cause your soul at times to feel as if under a cloudy sky. But you well know to judge of God's love only by His Unspeakable Gift,--a gift irrevocably given, and given to you,--never by frames and states and feelings and your own thoughts. When Mr. Manson came back to you on the day of the eclipse, did he report that the sun was changed? No, he reported that his light had been intercepted for a few minutes, and that never were men more fully alive to the inexhaustible and unchangeable lustre of that globe of light, than when for a moment deprived of its actual presence.
Your husband is somewhat lazy, he has not written me this long time. I think I will make that an excuse for saying no more at present, so good-bye for this time. Pray for us.--Yours truly in the Lord,
ANDREW A. BONAR.