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ISOOSi \^ ^.■ ^^/Ua^^^<:^^^^ .T-^ t^^^/aC \^' y7.^' ■r^f J r ■''■f^y'iiii^r\y. T- ■A^ (!% ■■:^*^<'-^^ <^^ :^ \^ M E M O R I A L S 07 Frances Ridley Havergal. BY HER SISTER, M. V. G. H. Z- TORONTO: HART «& RAWLINSON, 5 CING STREKT, WEST. 189060 \^ PRE FACE. TT is with a reverent hand that these "hidden leaves" of my dear sister's life are now laid at the Master's feet, for His acceptance and blessing. "Leaves which grave Experience ponders, Soundings for her pilot-charts ; Leaves which God Himself is storing, Records which we read, adoring Him, who writes on human hearts. Leaflets long unpaged and scattered Time's great library receives; When eternity shall bind them, Golden volumes we shall find them, God's light falling on the leaves." No attempt has been made to write a Bio- graphy, but rather to allow her to relate her own life-story-a sister's loving touch uniting the several links. Her letters, so kindly lent to b PREFACE. U I: ' \ w me by many friends, have furnished abundant materials for this purpose. These pages will reveal, to some extent, her "true-hearted, whole-hearted" loyalty in the service of God. Often was it as unseen as the lonely watchfulness of the sentinel on some distant outpost ; although in later years she seemed as one pacing the ramparts in the very presence of the King. And so— "The joy of loyal service to the King Shone through her days, and lit up other lives With the new fire of faith, that ever strives, Like a swift-kindling beacon, far to fling The tidings of His victory, and claim New subjects for His realm, new honour for His Name.'* May Christ be magnified by this record of her life and death ! To her, Christ was indeed " all and in all " ; and she did but describe her o\/n experience in the words: "There were strange soul depths, restless, vast, and broad, Unfathomcd as the sea ; PI^hFACE. vH An infinite craving for some infinite stilling : But no^v Thy perfect love is perfect filling, Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God, Thou, Thou art enough for me ! " Yes, she was satisfied with Him, and knew what it was to "rest in the Lord," whilst she worked /.. Him. May I not add that an equally joyous and blessed experience may be ours ; and that His grace, which was sufficient for her is sufficient for all who, possessing "like precious faith," "follow His steps." MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. Caswell Bav Road, The Mumbles, South Wal':s. April, 1880. Pi CONTENTS. Preface PAGE V CHATTER I. (1836-1S44.) Introduction — T^irth — Brothers tiiul sislei-s — Name — Birth- day wreatlis — Astlcy Rectory [illustration) — Her father's music — New home at Heinvick — Flora's epitaph — Reading under the table — First rhyme . • • . X CHAPTER n. (1843-1848.) Autobiography from six years old — Wanting to be happy — Sunday chapters and prayer — Golden light — Waving boughs — " The caged lark " — No hypocrisy — Mother's last words — Death — No trance — The cry of the motherless — Wales — Oakhampton . . . • 11 CHAPTER HI. (1848-1852.) The new decade — Meteor flashes — " Oh for faith " — School at last — Showers, but no blessing — Breaking the ice — The climax — The school sunbeam — A gleam of hope — Trusting Jesvis — School again — Illness and patience — Wales — Singing and responding at " Taffy services " 26 CHAPTER IV. (1852-1855.) School at DUsseldorl — Journey to Wesi:phalia — Leaving school — Numero I. — Autobiography resumed — Life in the pastor's family — The Countess von Lippe — Letter from Pastor Schulze-Berge — The day of con- firmation — In Worcester cathedral — "Thine for ever" i ■■.hi- ih ] ■ i ; i ' CONTENT^. PAGE — Home life — Oakhampton enjoyment — "Welcome home to my father " . . . , , . • 43 CHAPTER V. (1856—1860.) Ireland — F. R. H. and the Irish gins — Hebrew studies — Grateful memory of Bible cl ss teachings — " Nearer heaven ! " — Chapters learnt — " Touching the hem " — Leaving St. Nicholas' — The loving teacher — Last page in Sunday Scholar's Register — Welcome to Shareshill . 59 CHAPTER VI. (1861— 1869.) Oakhampton — A new power — Musical gifts — Deep borings — Subjects for prayer — Hiller's commendation — Re- markable power of harmonizing — Welcome to Win- terdyne — Stormy petrelism — Sent empty away — Calmer waters — Joining Young Women's Christian Association — London — " Guess my birthday treat ! " — Signor Raudegger — Epitome of his first singing lesson — New home at Leamington — How poems came — My Evelyn! — -'The Two Rings" — Weary and sad — First sight of Alpine mountains . . . 71 CHAPTER VIL (1870-1S71.) A father's holy teachings — Peaceful death — "Yet speak- e^^h " — " Songs of Grace and Glory" — How harmony was learnt — Letter on tunes in " Havergal's Psalmody " — The " hush of praise " — Sympathy — The great transition — The most enjoyable trip to Switzerland — A real Alpine dawn — The Vaudois chaplain — Vivas on the Col de la Seigne — Christmas Day — Waiting, not working 99 CHAPTER VIIL (1872-1874.) ** The Right Way" — Snowdon — Evenings at Harlech — Jesus our Reality — Switzerland once more — Ascent to the Grands Mulcts — Glissade peril and escape — Active CONTENTS. xl PAGE service — Winterdyne — Bright sunshine — Full sur- render — I John i. 7 — Definitive standpoint — Chimes in the night of " Ever, only, all for Tlice " — No cheque — Songs, not sighs— How "Golden harps," "Tel.', it out," etc., came — Wayside enjoyments . • . Il6 CHAPTER IX. (1874.) Circular letters — Sunset on the Faulhorn — Ormont Dessus — Interruptions to poems — Other work done — " Little Pillows,'' etc. — Swiss singing — That great transfer — A musical reverie — Return to England — Bright work and results • • . 142 CHAPTER X. (1874-1875.) A dark enigma — Typhoid fever — " Waiting at the golden gates" — Coming back from them — Winterdyne — Relapse — Oakhampton — The ministry of kind servants — Return to work — Letters — Gleams — Whit])y — " Reality" — The old friend's letter — Kindness of friends 155 CHAPTER XL (1876.) **The Turned Lesson" — Patient work — Sympathy vvrith E. C, going to India — Upton Bishop Vicarage — The brother's organ and last singing — The last visit to Switzerland — " Senlemcnt pour Toi " — Bible reading to peasants — The Great St. Bernard — Champery — Baroness Helga von Cramm — Alpine cards — Illness at Pension Wengen — Return home — "My King" — Pruning 189 CHAPTER XIL (1877-) Letters — The mystery of pain — The Lord's graving tool — Loyal letters — "Won't you decide to-night?" — Manhood for Christ's service — Splendid promises — •* My silver and my gold " — Mildmay : its intercessions, greetings, hushing power — A crumb from the King's table — The Christian Progress Union .... 226 : I 1 { f U ' . \ 1 xii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. (1878.) PAGE Sympathy with sorrowful suffering — "Just as Thou wilt" — The mother's last smile — Called to rest — The home nest stirred up — Clear guidance — *' Another little step " — Last days in Leamington — Nieces and nephews — Devonshire visits — The Welsh nest — *' My study *' — The harp-piano — More work — The sweep of Jehovah's pencil — Bible readings — " Take my love" — Songs in a weary Christmas r.ight .... 250 CHAPTER XIV. (1879.) New Year's sunshine — Journal of mercies — {Facsimiles of Bible pages) — Prayer and intercessions — Work, **if the Lord will " — London — The law of the Lord a delight — Prospering — "Loving all Along" — "Bruey" suc- cess — Irish plans — Temperance work — The oldest friend's visit — "Can I go to India?" — Last Y. W. C. A. address — " Little Nony " — Last letters — Costly stones — The last ** Sunday crumb " card . • CHAPTER XV. The Last Week. The donkey-boy — My Temperance regiment — Work on the village bank — Sailor friends — Helga's pictures — ** God's will delicious " — Good Mary, and kind nurse — •* How good and kind to come " — The last Sunday — The last hymns — Last messages — "Do speak bright words for Jesus " — The last song at the Golden Gate — With the King — Astley Churchyard .... APPENDIX 273 295 315 Portrait to face title. Astley Rectory „p.6 Facsimiles of Bible Pages . . , to face pp. 277, 279 I.R. H's Tomb in Astley Churchyard . to face p. 309 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. ■♦♦- CHAPTER I. (1836— 1844.) Introduction - Birth - Brothers and sisters - Name - Birthday wreaths -Astley Recrory (i//us^ra^,on) ~lUr father's music -New home at Henwick - Flora's epitaph - Reading under the table — First rhyme. \\l^ do not often see the risings of our rivers, the tiny spring lies hidden in some mountain home. Even when the stream gathers strength in its downward course, it meets with many an obstructing boulder, passes through many an unfrequented valley, and traverses here and there a sunless ravine. But the river deepens and widens, and is most known, most navigable, just as it passes away for ever from our gaze lost in the ocean depths. ' ' And thus it was with the early life of that dear sister whose course I would now attempt to trace Those who only knew her when her words were flowing deeply and -.v.JJy, around, little guess the B MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. ;i!MI' It! ^r if ; li- \ i dark shadows on her early course. It is most difficult to know what to give, and what to with- hold, in these pages. In simple dependence on God's overruling guidance, a selection is now made from what she little thought would ever be pub- lished. Remembering one of her latest whispers, "I did so want to glorify Him in every step of my way," it is thought right to unfold these life- records. May her desire be fulfilled ! " Come nearer, Sun of Righteousness, that we, Whose dim, short hours of day so swiftly run, So overflowed with love and light may be, So lost in glory of the nearing Sun, That not our light, but Thine^ the world may see. New praise to Thee through our poor lives be won!" Frances Ridley Havergal was bom on the 14th of December, 1836, and was the youngest child of William Henry Havergal and Jane his wife. Her father was then Rector of Astley, Worcestershire. The names of her brothers and sisters, in the order of their birth, were : — ~^ 1. Jane Miriam, who married Henry Crane, Esq., of Oakhampton, near Stourport. 2. Henry East, vicar of Cople, Bedfordshire, who died 1875. Married Frances Mary, daughter of George J. A. Walker, Esq., Norton, near Worcester. 3. Maria Vernon Graham. I»l VI n 73 - A f 1 1 t ! . i 1 1 "IV//AT THE 'R: doth REPRESENT." 4. Ellen Prestage, who married Giles Shaw, Esq., of Celbridge Lodge, county Kildare, now of Winterdyne, Bewdiey. 5. Francis Tebbs, vicar of Upton Bishop, near Ross. Married Isabel Susan, daughter of Colonel W. Martin. On the 25th of January, 1837, Frances was baptized in Astley Church by the Rev. John Cawood, incumbent of St. Ann's, Bewdiey. Her godmothers were Miss Lucy Emra, of St. George's Vicarage, near Bristol, authoress of " Lawrence the Martyr," " Heavenly Themes," and other poems ; and Miss Elizabeth Cawood, whose clever and attractive brightness had ever great influence over her little goddaughter. Her godfather was the Rev. W. H. Ridley, Vicar of Hambleden. In the " Ministry of Song " we read how Frances loved her name of Ridley, and that she bore it from one descended from the godly and learned Bishop Ridley, of the noble army of martyrs. "But *what the R. doth represent* I value and revere, A diamond clasp it seems to be, On golden chains, enlinking me In loyal love to England's hope, The Church I hold so dear." "Our sweet baby," her father wrote, "grows MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. Ill m It' nicely. She was baptized last Wednesday, * Fran- ces Ridley.* All are eager for her to be called Fanny, but I do not like it." However, as a child we called her Fanny, but from the time of the publication of her first book, "The Ministry of Song," Frances was her usual signature, and she much preferred her baptismal name. Her unique surname was spelt Heavergill in 1694, afterwards Havergill, or Havergall, but always Havergal since orthography in general ceased to vary. The derivation of the name is thought to be " Heaver-gill, the heaving or rising of the brook or gill." My sister Miriam supplies the next link. ' " My recollection of Frances begins with the first day of her life ; a pretty little babe even then, and by the time she reached two years of age, with her fair complexion, light curling hair, and bright expression, a prettier child was seldom seen. At that age she spoke with perfect distinctness, and with greater fluency and variety of language than is usual in so young a child. She comprehended and enjoyed any little stories that were told her. I remember her animated look of attention when the Rev. J. East told her about a little Mary who loved the Lord Jesus. We were all taught to read early, and to repeat, by our dear mother ; but as I had now left school I undertook this charming little pupil : teaching her reading, spelling, and a rhyme (generally one of Jane Taylor's), for half an hour every ASTLEY KECrOKY FORTY YEARS AGO. morning, and in the afternoon twenty or thirty stitches of patclnvork, with a very short text to repeat next morning at breakfast. When three years old, she could read easy books, and her brother Frank remembers how often she was found hiding under a table with some engrossing story." • The Rev. F. Jefifery, afterwards Vicar of Sway, was at this ti le our father's curate at Astley. The following is an extract from his letter, September 29th, 1879. " I well recollect Astley Rectory more than forty years ago. At that time your sister Frances was rather more than two years old, a very fairy-like creature. Her chief companion was then a white and tan spaniel, such as Landseer might have loved, and this little favourite she called Flora or Flo. At morning prayers she always sat on her father's knee while he read the Scriptures. It is likely that she learned to read as a mere pastime. I well remember her sweet infant voice singing little hymns in imitation of her father. Her nursemaid was recommended by Miss Cawood, from the Bewdley Sunday School. The day she was four years old her little maid brought her down after dinner to dessert, crowned with a wreath of bay-leaves. I shall never forget the picture 1 She was her dear mother in miniature, especially in the brightness of her expression and the sparkle of her eye. A line from a classic poet was quoted exactly expressing this. I mention this, as well remembering the great beauty of your dear mother. . . . To-day it is exactly fourteen rr ■p*" MEMORIALS OF K A'. //. years since I saw ihe sun for the last time, but it would need many more years than that, to blot out my recol- lection of Astley Rectory. " Ah I how each dear domestic scene I knew \l' li t? 'V I ! •'II !i(. Charms with the magic of a moonlight view, Its colours mellowed not impaired by time I " Her sister Miriam continues : " At four years old, Frances could read the Bible and any ordinary book correctly, and had learned to write in round hand. French and music were gradually added ; but great care was always taken not to tire her or excite the precocity of her mind, and she never had a regular governess. ** Mr. Jeffery has referred to her wreath of bay on her fourth birthday, and I remember making a wreath of the pink china roses which grew among the ivy on the rectory on her third birthday. Alas ! the rose and the prophetic bay reappeared among her funeral wreaths." The surroundings of dear Frances' early days in our Astley home may as well be given in the de- scriptive lines of my sister Miriam, written in 1863, accompanying her sketch of the church and rectory. " Behold thy birthplace, Frances ! The old house Entwined with ivy, roses, and the vine ; Beneath the shadow of the ancient shrine Where ministered our fatlier twenty years. \ /. FOUR YEARS OLD. He built the northern aisle, and gave the dock, A musical memento of his love For time and tune and punctuality I Fair is the garden ground, and there the flowers Were trained with care and skill by one who now Rests from her labours in the heavenly land. Here life and death together meet ; the tombs Stand close beside the mossy bank, where once Sisters and brothers met in frolic play. Around, the wooded hills in beauty rise ! Earth has not many scenes more fair than this, And none more dear to those who called it Home ! " Our Sunday evening hymn-singinj is vividly recalled, in v^rhich little Fanny soon took part. At this time our dear father was an invalid ; music was his solace, and he composed cathedral services, also many hundreds of chants and tunes, and several sacred songs, the profits of which were always devoted to various Societies, home and foreign, and the restoration of churches.* Beside the rich chords and tuneful rong in our home, there were wise and holy influences. * My father's first published musical composition was a setting of Bishop Heber's hymn, " From Greenland's icy mountains." The proceeds amounted to ;^i8o, and were devoted to the Church Missionary Society. In 1836 the Gieshani prize medal was awarded to him for a cathedral service in A. In 1841 a second gold medal was adjudged for his anthem, " Give Thanks." li '' ' ^ ' V I I' MEMORIAI.S or /-: A'. //. Our parents* prayers and example in searching; the Scriptures, and their loving cheery ways, activity and punctuality, were the keynotes of our child-life. One of our mother's letters is given, written when Fanny was away on her first visit (1840). I AM so glad to hear how happy you are at Wycombe. Try and be very obedient to dear grandmamma and your sister Ellen, and I hope you will do all you can to please dear grandpapa. I miss you very much, and often think I hear you call "mamma," or expect you are coming to me. You remember the three little babies at Dunley. Jane, the one that you nursed, is gone to heaven. May my Fanny know and love Jesus Christ ! then she will be sure to go to heaven whether she dies young or old. Some of the seeds are come up in your garden ; I love to watch them, because you helped me to sow them. Dear papa sends his love. Good bye, dear Fanny. From dear Mamma. In 1842 the living of Astley was resigned, and Henwick House, in the parish of Hallow, was our temporary home till our dear father's appoint- ment by Bishop Pepys to the Rectory of St. Nicholas, Worcester, in 1845. The only distinct remembrance of this time is of Frances' delight in the gardens and long terrace walk at Henwick, with sundry agile tree climbings. Perhaps her first grief was the death of her little dog Flo, which was buried under the snowy Ivlespilus tree in the i-ii LTTERARY NOVICIATE. back lawn. The sheet of paper is preserved on which she wrote : "Here lies little Flora. Died April i6th, 1844. Aged 7. Reverence her remains." Frances always took care to be in the drawing- room while a professor was giving German lessons. Without any one knowing it, she was listening and acquiring the language. When discovered, she had made such progress that Mr. Lorentz begged he might instruct her. The treasured little book in which she wrote her childish hymns and rhymes begins with the following verses written at the age of seven. Sunday is a pleasant day, When we to church do go j For there we sing and read and pray, And hear the sermon too. On Sunday hear the village bells ; It seems as if thoy said, Go to the church where the pastor tells How Christ for man has bled. And if we love to pray and read While we are in our youth. The Lord will help us in our need And keep us in His truth. All her rhymes are dated, and also some simple tales, written in a copybook for the benefit of her nr r 1 r- I 'I lO MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. little niece Miriam. From nine years old and upwards she wrote long and amusingly descriptive letters, in perfect rhyme and rhythm, to her brother Frank and her young friends. There would have been a long blank now but for the Autobiography of her inner child-life. It was written for her sister Maria, and unsealed only a few weeks ago. As the shadows on her morn- ing pathway contrast with the light that shone more and more unto the perfect day, it is thought right to give these pages in all their truthful simplicity. IS m CHAPTER TI. (1843— 1848.) Autobiography from six years old — Wanting to be happy — Sunday chapters anit i)rayer — Golden light — Waving boughs — "The caged lark" — No hypocrisy — Mother's last words — Death — No trance — The cry of the motherless — Wales — Oakham pton. AUTOBIOGRAPHY. {Written in 1859,) I HAVE often already planned and half intended to write for my own amusement in coming years a sort of little autobiography of those which are past ; but this idea, although my life would furnish plenty of small adventures and incidents, I have now for several reasons laid aside ; I scarcely think it would repay the necessary outlay of many precious hours. For, more and more, do I feel what valuable capital Time is, capital which must not be put out at merely any interest, but as far as possible at the best and highest. In lieu however of a history of my outer life, I do think that a little account of my own inner life would be a not unprofitable invest- ment of an evening hour. And may He who has led me these twenty-two "years through the wilderness" send His blessing upon me while I " remember all the way " by which He, I trust, has brought me hitherto. My reasons for undertaking this litde task are these. I St. I have found it so vdry pleasant and profitable to PIT II 12 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H. look back frequently upon what have been God's deal- ings with me, that a written retrospect is likely, with His blessing, to prove still more useful and delightful, as being less cursory and more definite. 2nd. I have always avoided keeping a diary, feeling certain that it never would or could be a strictly faitlful picture of passing soul-life ; yet I think an account of the past^ in a bird's-eye view, would be far easier to give in a true and uncoloured light than any memoranda of z. present, which would be tinged with the prevailing hues *of the moment,, morning, noon, or twilight. Therefore, as I feel sure that I shall not retain such a clear recollection of each year's history when memory is more burdened, and as I believe that even our own *' experience " is a thing 'given to be used and improved, it seems almost a duty to endeavour to preserve it as clear ard ready for reference and use (at times when ** His love in times past" may be an anchor for the storm- beset spirit) as may be. 3rd. A diary no eye but mine should ever see. But, for one reason, one eye shall read these pages, if it should be God's will that the volume of my life should soon close. It is this. While I do humbly trust, though tremblingly, that I am a child of God, I know, and knowing bewail it, that much in my life and conversation has not been, and is not, " as be- cometh the gospel of Christ"; and there must be some, if not many, among my own beloved ones, who have no direct evidence concerning me> and whom I must have often grieved by my inconsistency. And it might be that no opportunity of any " deathbed evidence " may be given me, or that my remaining time may be so short that I may never be able to show, by a closer walk with ;i' I A UrOBIOGRAPIIY. »3 God, that I am truly His. And as He has in His wonderful, most wonderful, mercy given me hope, I would not that any dear to me should sorrow for me as without hope. So I shall give this to my dear sister Maria, to be opened only in case of my death ; that she may have the comfort of hoping, that even in my darkest and most careless days 1 was not utterly forsaken of that Spirit, who I pray may never cease to strive with me. " Call to remembrance the days of old." " Thou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God hath led thee." 1843— 1845. Up to the time that I was six years old I have no remembrance of any religious ideas whatever. Even, when taken once to see the corpse of a little boy of my own age (four years), lying in a coffin strewn with flowers, in dear papa's parish of Astley, I did not think about it as otherwise than a very sad and very curious thing that that little child should lie so still and cold. I do not think I could ever have said any of those "pretty things" that little children often do, though there were sweet and beloved and holy ones round me who must have often tried to put good thoughts into my little mind. But from six to eight I recall a different state of things. The beginning of it was a sermon preached one Sunday morning, at Hallow Church, by Mr. (novv Archdeacon) Phillpotts. Of this I even now retain a distinct impression, Jt was to me a very ter- rible one, dwelling much on hell and judgment, and what a fearful thijig it is to fall into the hands of the Mf ! 14 MEMORIALS OF F, K. H. if Hi : t 111 ill living God. No one ever knew it, but this sermon haunted me, and day and night it crossed me. I began to pray a good deal, though only night and morning, with a sort of fidget and impatience, almost angry at feeling so unhappy, and wanting and expecting to get a new heart, and have everything put straight and be made happy, all at once. This sort of thing went on at interva'i, not at all con- tinuously, for often a -nonth or two would pass without a serious thought or anything like true prayer. At such times I utterly abominated being " talked to," would do anything on earth to escape the kindly meant admonitions of dear M , or the prayers which she would offer for me. Any cut or bruise (and such were more the rule than exception in those wild days of tree-climbing, wall-scaling, etc.) was instantly adduced as a reason why I could not possibly kneel down. A chapter in the Bible was often a terrible bore. Then, after a time of this sort, some mere trifle, very often the influence of a calm beautiful evening, or perhaps a " Sunday book " of some affecting kind, would rouse me up to uncomfortableness again. One sort of habit I got into in a steady way, which was persevered in with more or less fervour according to the particular fit in which I might be. Every Sunday afternoon I went alone nito a little front room (at Hen wick) over the hall, and there used to read a chapter in the Testament, and then knelt down and prayed for a few minutes, after which I usually felt soothed and less naughty. Once, when Marian P. was spending a few days with me, she being my only little visitor at Henwick, I did not like any omission, and so took her with me, saying a /) A UTOBIOGRAPHY, IS few words of prayer " out of my head " without any embarrassme'nt at her presence. I think I had a far more vivid sense of the beauty of nature as a little child than I have even now ; and its power ov^r me was greater than any one would imagine. I have hardly felt anything so intensely since, in the way of a sort of unbearable enjoyment. Especially, and I think more than anything else, the golden quiet of a bright summer's day used to enter into me and do me good. What only some great and rare musical enjoyment is to me now, the shade of a tree under a clear blue sky, with a sunbeam glancing through the boughs, was to mo then. But I did not feel happy in my very enjoy- ment ; I wanted more. I do not thmk I was eight when I hit upon Cowper's lines, ending " My Father made them all 1 " That was what I wanted to be able to say ; and, after once seeing the words, I never saw a lovely scene again withou*- being teased by them. One spring (I think 1845) I kept thinking of them, and a dozen times a day said to myself, "Oh if God would but make me a Christian before the summer comes ! " because I longed so to enjoy His works as I felt they could be enjoyed. And I could not bear to think of another summer com- ing and going, and finding and leaving me still " not a Christian." I shall know some day why my Father left me to walk thus alone in my early childhood, why such long years of dissatisfaction and restlessness were appor- tioned me, while others fancied me a happy thoughtless child. But He must have been teaching me, and " who teacheth like Him?" Another soothing influence to i6 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. \ i 1 i iij I Hi [ me was the presence of anj^ one whom I believed to be more than commonly holy : not among those nearest and dearest to me at home ; how perversely I overlooked them ! but any very pious clergyman, or other manifest and shining Christian. The Rev. John Davies, of St. Clement's, I particularly reverenced ; and his or any similar presence did me a sort of indefinite good. I used to want such to speak a word about good things to me, much as I hated it from those who would will- ingly have given it me. All this while I don't think any one could have given the remotest guess at whac passed in my mind, or have given me credit for a single serious thought. I knew I was " a naughty child," never entertained any doubts on the subject ; in fact, I almost enjoyed my naughtiness in a savage desperate kind of way, because I utterly de- spaired of getting any better, except by being " made a Christian," which, as months passed on, leaving me rather worse than better, was a less and less hoped for, though more and more lojiged for, change. Towards the end of these two years I think (though I do not dis- tinctly remember) that I must have become a shade quieter and happier, because of what is the first memory in my next little soul era. /?//y, 1845— 4 ,/«^, 1850. We went to St. Nicholas' Rectory in 1845, and it was in very greai bitterness that I bade adieu to my pleasant country life, and became, as I remember dear papa calling me, "a caged lark." This made a great difference to me, for I do think that the quiet every day beauty of trees and sunshine was the chiet external influ- if ,1 t A U TO B I OCR A PH V. 17 cnce ujion my early childhood. Waving boughs and golden light always touched and quieted me, and spoke to me, and told me about God. Being a ** youngest" by so many years, and not knowing many children, I very rarely had a companion except my little Flora, in that large Henwick garden, where I first learned to f/ii'/d' ; and that may have been the reason why trees and grass were so much to me. They were the first pleasant leaf in God's great lesson book with me. But at St. Nicholas' Rectory I had a little tiny room all my own, and that was quite the next best thing ; its little window was my " country " (for a " walk " with another was never the same thing as those lonely loiterings in the garden), and soon the sky and the clouds were the same sort of rela- tions to my spirit that trees and flowers had been. Soon after coming, a sermon by the curate on " Fear not, little flock," etc., struck me very much, and woke me up again from a longer slumber to a more restless unhappiness than usual. I did so want to be happy and be " a Christian," which term embraced everything I could possibly think of in the way of happiness. And I didn't at all see how I was to be, except by prayii^g very hard ; and that I had done so often that I got quite dis- heartened at its resultlessness. At this time I don't think I had any clear ideas about believing on the Lord Jesus, and so getting rid of the burden which had pressed so long upon my little soul. My general notion was that I didn't love God at all, and was very bad and wicked altogether ; that if I went on praying very much, some- thing would come to me and change me all at once, and make me Hke many whom I read about and a few whom I saw. As for drying to be good, that seemed of next to i8 MEMORIALS OF F. R, II. :.i i no use ; it was like struggling in a quicksand, the more you struggle the deeper you sink. To come back to the sermon. I had never yet spoken a word to any mortal about religion ; but now I was so uneasy that, after nearly a fortnight's hesitation, taking the emboldening opportu- nity of being alone with the curate one evening when almost dark, I told him my trouble; saying especially that I thought I was getting worse, because since I had come to St. Nicholas' I had not cared at all for Sunday afternoon reading and prayer. His advice did not satisfy me. He said the excitement of moving and coming into new scenes was the cause most likely of my feeling worse, and that would soon go off; then I was to try and be a good child, and pray, etc., etc. So, after that, my lips were utterly sealed to all but God for another five years or rather more. Even when feeling most, I fancied I could a? soon speak Sanscrit, or die, as utter a word to a human being on what was only between me and God. This intense reserve must have grieved those who loved me. Consequently too, anything like hypocrisy was the sin of all others which I could least understand, and imagined the most impossible to commit. How could any one say or seem more than they felt, when it was so impossible to say as much as one felt ! My dear mamma's illness and death (July 5th, 1848) did not make the impression on me which might have been expected; I mean as regards my spiritual state, for my intense sorrow, childish though it was, seems even now, after the lapse of eleven years, a thing of which I do not like to speak or think. A mother's death must be childhood's greatest grief. But I am trying now to write only of my soul's life. I did not at all expect her A UTOIUOGRA PH V. 19 departure, and shut my ears in a very hardened way to those who tried to prepare me for it ; so when it came I was not ready, and there was nothing but bitterness in it to me. I did not, ivoidd not, see God's hand in it, and the stroke left me worse than it found me. One subject often occupied my mind in these years, which would seem unusual for a child — the Lord's Supper, After coming to St. Nicholas', almost every monthly sacrament made me thoughtful. I begged to be allowed to stay in th.^ church and see it administered " only once," but this apparently mere curiosity was not gratified, so I used to go round to the vestry and listen to the service through the door. One Sunday the hymn " My God, and is Thy table spread," was sung before sermon ; it quite upset me, and I cried violently, though being in a corner of the pew I managed to conceal it. I used to reckon the years to the time when the invitation would extend to me too, not by any means happily, for I wondered what I should ever do ; I could not stay away, but how could I dare to go ? " Well, I hope I shall be a Christian by then !" was my only comfort. Turning from the Autobiography, some of her mother's words are given. " You are my youngest little girl, and I feci more anxious about you than the rest. I do pray for the Holy Spirit to lead you and guide you. And remember, nothing but the precious blood of Christ can make you clean and lovely in God's sight." i i iUBIl ; : 1 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ H. Frances. "Oh, mamma, I am sure you will get better and go to church again !" " No, dear child j the church mamma is going to is the general assembly and church of the firstborn in heaven. How glorious to know I shall soon sec my Saviour face to face ! Now go and play and sing some of your little hymns for me ; there is one verse I should like you to sing twice over: " And when her path is darkened She lifts her trusting eye, And says 'my Father calls me To mansions in the sky !' " Before her mother's death (when she was elcvjen years old) her wish was gratified to see the Lord's Supper administered. We remember her grave, flushed face, when kneeling at her mother's bed during the " Communion of the Sick." The whole story of her child life at this time is told in her " Four Happy Days," in which, under the name of " Annie," she reveals the bitterness of this first grief. We can almost sec her in her tiny bedroom, " kneeling on the chair, leaning her little arms on the window-seat, and feeling as if she wished she had something to lean her little heart on too. The clouds had been her great friends since she had had no trees to sit in and make up fancies about. Sometimes she watched the clouds IM \U " FOUK llAPPy DA Ysr St and wondered all sorts of thinirs about them, and especially wished she could reach the spendid white ones which looked like snow mountains that could be climbed and rested upon. But she found in a book that they were only vapour like the others, and that there would be nothing to rest upon and look down upon, only dismal thick mist and rain. Poor child ! there are other bright things besides shining clouds, which when reached are only mist and tears. . . . She was musing over some words which had just been spoken in her mother's room. * Fanny dear, pray to God to prepare you for all that He is preparing for you.' Her mamma said them very feebly and solemnly when she said good-night, and now they seemed to sound over and over again, so that they never should or could be forgotten. * I wonder what He is preparing for me,' she thought. ' Oh I do hope He is preparing one of the many mansions for me ! how I wish I knew whether He is ! But I don't think He is preparing me for it, else I should not feel naughty so often.' But her mamma meant something sadder and nearer, which she knew God was surely preparing day by day for her little girl ; she knew it could not be very long before she would be singing the ' new song ' in perfect joy, while all her child's little songs would be hushed in great sorrow, the rr as MEMORIALS OF F. R. /A ;t iiVHi il 1 ' 'i 1 ; I i' ;i greatest that a child can know. Her mamma saw how strangely she was unprepared for all this, and she never would stay to listen to anything her sisters said about their dear mamma being worse." Only a few weeks before her own death, Frances referred to this : *' The words mamma taught me in 1848 have been a life prayer with me. This ' preparing ' goes on ; it is as when gaining one horizon, another and another spreads before you. So every event prepares us for the next that is prepared for us. Mamma's words I also re- member, 'Dear child, you have your own little bedroom now, it ought to be a little Bethel.' I could not then make head or tail of what she meant, and often wondered, till some months after, when reading in Genesis I came to the chapter ; and then I understood it. Having that small room to myself developed me much as a child ; it was mine, and to me it was the cosiest little nest in the world." We musi take one more look (from the " Four Happy Days") at St. Nicholas' Rectory on the nth of July, 1848. "Annie [Frances] was stand- ing by the window in a front room, looking through a little space between the window and blind. All the shops were shut up, though it was not Sunday. She knew it would be dreadful to C THE CRY OF THE MOTHERLESS. 23 look out of that window, and yet she felt she must look. She did not cry, she only stood and shivered in the warm air. "Very slowly and quietly a funeral passed out of the front [Rectory] gate, and in another minute was out of sight, turning into the church. Then she stood no longer, but rushed away to her own little room, and flung herself on her little bed, and cried 'oh, mamma ! mamma ! mamma !' It seemed as if there was nothing else in her little heart but that one word. The strange hope which had lasted all that week was gone. She had found curious things in books, and one was that people had sometimes been supposed to be dead and yet it was only a trance, and they had revived and even recovered. And so, when no one was near, she had gone again and again into that room, and drawn the curtain aside, half expecting to see the dear eyes unclose, and to feel the cold cheek warm again to her kiss. But it was no trance. The dear suffering mother was at rest, seeing Jesus face to face. Only the smile of holy peace was left on that lovely face, and that remained to the last, telling of life beyond death ; she had never seen the solemn beauty of that smile before. But now all hope was gone, and she knew that she was motherless." In her little book of poems she wrote : 24 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II, f Eye liatli not seen, nor ear liath heard, Neither can man's heart conceive, The blessed things God hath prepared For those who love Him an(i believe. July sth, ^848. And again : Oil ! had I the wings of a dove, Soon, soon would I be at my rest; I would fly to the Saviour I love, And there would I lie on His breast. July ()th. On a marble tablet in St. Nicholas' Church, Worcester, is this inscription. JANE, The beloved Wife of Rev. VV. H. Havergal, M.A., Rector of this Parish, and Hon. Canon of Worcester Cathedral, Died in holy peace, July 5th, 1848, AGED 54 YEARS. unto them eternal Igi life. After this sorrowful time our dear father took us all away to North Wales. Gn our return Frances often visited her sister Miriam's home, Oakhamp- ton, where she is remembered as a clever amusing child, sometimes a little wilful and troublesome from mere excess of animal spirits, but always affectionate and grateful for any little treat ; read- ing a good deal of poetry, and leaving traces of II EARl.V WORK. her studies in volumes found in hayloft and manner and garden nooks. When at St. Nicholas' Rectory, she threw herself into the work of her society for providing warm clothing ; and lier chief coadjutor (whom she calls "Maria" in "Four Happy Days") was the youngest daughter of M;chael Thomas Sadler, Ivi.p. Though her grief for her dear mother's death was very deep, she ever tried to conceal it. Not that it was always heavy upon her, for as she writes: "If anything else occupied my attention I had a happy faculty of forgettir^j everything else for the moment. And thus it happened that a merry laugh or a sudden light-heeled scamper upstairs and downstairs led others to think I had not many sad thoughts, whereas not a minute before my little heart was heavy and sad." TTT i ■i! 1; is: i: I' J *■% f. CHAPTER III. (1848— 1852.) The new decade — Meteor flashes — "Oh for faith " — School at last — Showers, but no blessing — Breaking the ice — The climax — The school sunbeam — A gleam of hope — Trusting Jesus — wSchool again — Illness and patience — Wales — Sing- ing and responding at " TafTy services." AUTOBIOGRAPHY RESUMED. I KNOW I did not love God at this time, the very thought of Him frightened me; but sometimes a feehng not unlike love would make me go to sleep with a wet pillow. It would often be thus. Going to bed, I would determine I would try to think about God, hard as it was; and after I lay down, as my thoughts did not flow at all naturally heavenward, any more than water flows upward, I forced them into a definite channel by a half whisper. " How good it was of God to send Jesus to die!" was ray usual beginning, while I by no rucans felt or believed that wonderful goodness. Nevertheit .:, i* usually ended in my crying most heartily because I wai so bad and He was so good, and because I didn't and couldn't love Him when He even died for sinners. Here I ought to say that, for preservation from one deadly error, I ought especially to be thankful to my ever watchful Keeper. Never for one moment, even from my earliest childhood, have I ever been tempted to think A UTOBIOGRA PHY. 27 otherwise of myself than as a great and miserable and hcli)less sinner. Never have I dared to think myself " as good as others," for even as a little child I knew and felt the sinfulness of my own heart. Never has the shadow of a hope in my own righteousness, or of any trust in myself, crossed my mind. Yet even this I say with the reservation that it is and has been so, as far as my own consciousness goes, for every year shows me more and more the utter deceitfulness of the heart : '* who can know it ! " Oh the comfort of thinking that tliere is One who knows it, and can therefore cleanse its most hidden chambers from their dark pollution. *'0 God, unto whom all hearts be open," etc., is one of the sweetest things in our sweet Liturgy, to me, and it is wonderful what confidence it has often given me. So passed the five years till the spring of 1850, a time full of many recollections which I should like to retrace, had I not determined to abide by my intention of recall- ing only the history of what I would now dare to hope, though for many years I doubted it, is God's own work in me, which He, according to His promise, will perfect in His own time. 1850 {Spring) to 185 1 {February). The bells were ringing in the new year, and w^tyear only but decade^ when Maria woke me and said, " It is 1850 now, Fanny ! " It was quite dark, and I lay listen- ing to the new year's birth-song in silence. A dim looking onward through a fresh " ten years " all the way till i860 came before me; I should be grown up if I lived ; I a woman, how curious it seemed ! Perhaps I should be dead, and where ? If I lived, should I be a 'til 'i( ii li < y , t!i m 28 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. Christian? That was the grec.*- thing in all my anticipa- tions of coming years ; but in a solemn hour, like a new year's midnight, it grew greater and more important than ever. The sound of the bells died away, and all was quiet again. I did not muse long, but fell asleep to wake up in the first grey twilight of 1850. Now the decade has nearly glided by (the first entire one in my recollection) ; the new year's bells of i860 will soon be sounding forth ; God has preserved my life hitherto ; and how shall I answer the great question then, not " shall I be " but " am I, a Christian ? " May I, trusting and believing in the Lord Jesus as I do hope He has taught me to do, answer this great question of my life with a humble yet confident " yes " ? And, in entering upon another ten years, may I not hope that "to him that hath shall be given," that He will give me more faith, hope, and love, more knowledge of Himself, more meetness for His presence ? Amen! I don't so much rem^ember particular incidents in the early part of this year as general feelings and impres- sions, which were then rather altered in character, so much so as to form the beginning of a new division in my heart story. This much I know, that a soberizing thoughtful time seemed to fall on me like a mantle, and my strivings were no longer the passionate spasmodic meteor flashes which they had been, but something deeper, more settled, more sorrowful. All this was secret and only within my own breast, for not only at this time but all through my early life there were but a very few who knew me to be anything but a careless merry girl, light hearted in the extreme. This spring a strange new sense of the vanity of life and earth and AUTOBIOURAPHY. 29 everything but the one thing came over me, and when alone I sat and mused till I often cried. I began to look onward more, and feel that I should not be a child much longer (i was thirteen) ; and then years would go by so quickly, people said they did, they v/ent faster even then to me ; and what would they bring ? vanity and sameness and vexation ? And life began to seem such a little thing to me, such " a handbreadth," and what was there in it to care for ? I couldn't expect a happier lot than I had, and yet all I had was unsatisfactory ; and I should always be myself too, and I hated vayse/f, so what was to be done ? Two or three things happened (though I do not at all remember what), which tended very strongly to confirm tliese sad thoughts ; death seemed around me ; " passing away " earth's motto ; " vanity " life's keynote. As the beautiful spring came on there was a mist of melancholy over the very flowers : they had opened, well, what matter? they would fade again, and so would every- thing ! I did not enjoy that spring as I had others, its charm was gone. In the end of May I joined Ellen in London, and we spent six weeks of gorgeous summer weather together at Wycombe with grandpapa. What brought it before me I don't know, but now came a more definite and earnest prayer, iox. faith. Oh to believe in Jesus, to believe that He had pardoned me ! I used to go to bed rather early, and lie awake in the long summer twilight till Ellen came up, praying for this precious gift. Oh for faith ! That was my cry ; but it was not given, at least not as and 7vhm I asked. I read a great deal of the Bible at this time in a " straight on " sort of way, expecting to come to something which would set me free 30 AfFMO/UArs OF F. R, IT. \S' \ i ' iill i i and bring the great gift of faith within my grasp. How I got it I can't in the least tell ; but certainly about this time I had a clearer idea of salvation than ever before, though I fancied myself farther than ever from its blessedness. This reminds me that as a child I read a good deal of the Bible, Isaiah being nearly my favourite book from the time I was ten or eleven. I never succeeded in reading for any length of time on any regular plan, because if I missed at all in one I got disheartened and emmyee, and after giving up altogether for a little while began something else. Once I determined, if eternal life were in the Scriptures, find it / would, and resolved to begin giving an hour a day to very careful and prayerful reading of the New Testament. Then came the great break in the current of my outer life, and with it a development of the inner. August 1 5th, 1850, to my great delight I went to school. And that single half-year with dear Mrs. Teed, formerly of Great Campden House, at Belmont now, was perhaps the most important to me of any in my life. The night before I went, Ellen, — dear, gentle, heavenly sister that she was, stood by me, brushing my hair, and taking the last opportunity of loving counsel. She told me that I was going to begin a new chapter in my life : stay, her words were, ** One of the great events of your life, Fanny ! " and then she was silent. I was captiously disposed, and rather wanted to avoid a serious conversation, so I answered carelessly, for I knew by the tone of her voice what she wanted to lead on to. But it would not do, she went on till I was softened, — a most unusual thing under the process of being talked to, which generally had the !k A UTOBIOGRAPIIY 31 most opposite effect. She spoke of God's love, and of how pleasant and Sweet a thing it was to love Him who first loved us. I could not stand it, and for the first time for five years I spoke out : " I can't love God yet, Nellie 1 " was all I said, but I felt a great deal more. Next day I went. Maria took me, and we reached Belmont quite in the evening. It was nearly prayer- time, and Maria and I were left to have some tea alone in the great drawing-room. We had just finished when voices reached us, and we tried to find our way in their direction. They came from the schoolroom, where the girls were singing their evening hymn prior to the weekly address of their chaplain. It sounded very sweet and soothing, as we stood behind the door in the last glow of sunset, and somewhat subdued the spirits and the curiosity which were exciting me considerably. Then Miss Teed came out and brought us in, just as Mr. Parker was beginning his sermon. It was from some text in Samuel which I forget ; but the two leading ideas were, that we should begin the new half-year with the Saviour who loved us and gave Himself for us, and in a spirit of helpful love one toward another. It was a rather long address, and I was very tired and excited, so I know I did not listen to it nearly all ; but this much I have retained until now, and it was tlie keynote of my prayer that evening as I knelt for the first time beside my little school bed, so white and curtainless. How I should like to run on with many reminiscences of school life ! But I will not I It was not long before I felt that Mrs. Teed's teaching was something more than common, but, till towards the end of the half year, things went on much as usual with me. f. i i 4 m 32 MEMORIALS OF F, R. II. After the middle of the half-year there was a differ- ence. It was Mrs. Teed's finale to her long course of school work, and she longed and prayed that it might indeed be finished with joy through the outpouring of God's blessing upon her labours. That none miglit leave her roof unimpressed was her desire, and it was to a great extent fulfilled. She prayed and si)oke with us, togetlier and individually, with a fervour which I have never since seen equalled, and seemed a very St. Paul in the intensity of her yearning over us. The result was what might be really called a revival among her young charge. There may have been, and probably was, some excitement ; but that the Holy Spirit was, even then and there, sent down into many a young heart, and that many dated from that time their real conversion to God, and went home that Christmas rejoicing in a newly and truly found Saviour, I have no doubt whatever. My own two dearest friends were among these. But, before the full tide of all this blessing set in, I was much in earnest. To begin with ; it must indeed have been a heart of stone that could resist dear Mrs. Teed's sweet and holy power. Besides, we had pious teachers who often spoke on the best things to us, and had little meetings for prayer weekly in their own rooms. And there were many Christian girls too, easily recognised by their general " walk and conversation," almost by their very countenances ; these I knew " took sweet counsel together," and I envied them and longed to dare to share it. Mary was one of these ; we were naturally a great deal together, and I longed to be able to speak and tell her how unhappy I often was ; but it was long before I summoned courage. At last I did. A UTODIOGRA PIl Y. 3J " Mary, dites-moi, est-ce que vous aimez Dieu ? " (We always had to speak French.) She looked ahiiost surprised, there was no doubt aboui the matter with her. " Oui, certainement," she said, " je Taime plus que je ne pourrais vous dire." Then I burst into tears and sobbed out " Eh bien, c'est cela que je desire tant, et moi je ne le puis pas ! " The ice was broken, and dear Mary spoke very sweetly to me : I did not regret my confidence this time. " Pouvez vous ou voulez vous dire que vous etes encore un petit enfant?" "Oh, oui, je sais que je ne suis qu'un enfant." "Alors, ecoutez ! Jesus disait, * Suffer the little children,' etc. C'est chaque petit enfant qui doit venir ^ Lui, chaque petit enfant qu'Il appelle, qu'Il veut embrasser." She begged me to go to Jesus and tell Him I wanted to love Him and could not, and then He would teach me to. The words of wise and even eminent men have since then fallen on my ear, but few have brought the dewy refreshment to my soul which the simple loving words of my little Heaven-taught schoolfellow did. But as yet they were only as a " very lovely song," etc., though I loved to listen to them, and acted upon them in darkness and trembling. After this I had many talks with Mary, but with no one else. Even with Diana, the goddess almost among my school friendships, and whom I believed to be like Mary, not a syllable could I utter on the subject ; though I longed to hear her speak to me as Mary did. November came, and with it a marked increase of anxiety among undecided, and earnestness among de- cided ones. I remember a feeling of awe stealing over me sometimes, at the consciousness that the *' power of I'* 34 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. '■ ill y the Lord was present " among us. For so indeed it was. As day after day passed on, one after another might be observed (even though Utile or nothing were said) to be going through the great sorrow which seemed to prelude the after-sent peace; and day after day one after another, hitherto silent, spoke out and told what peace and joy in believing they had found, and blessed God that they ever came to Belmont. Re- ligious topics became the common subjects of conversa- tion among the girls ; for even those as yet untouched could not but be struck with what passed around them. In very general conversation I occasionally joined, but more reservedly than any almost, and never alluding to my own feelings, though I knew what it was for my heart to feel as if it must burst. I am not quite sure, but I think, when Elizabeth told me that she too had found peace, I told her enough of my heart to establish confidence between us. As I heard of one and another speaking in such terms of confidence and gladness, my heart used to sink within me, it seemed so utterly unattainable. I prayed despairingly, as a drowning man cries for help who sees no help near. I had prayed and sought so long, and yet I was farther off than these girls, many of whom had only begun to think of religion a few weeks before. It was so very dark around me ; I could not see Jesus in the storm nor hear His voice. They spoke of His power and willingness to save, but I could find nothing to prove that He was willing to save ;«w He loves you though you don't know it." Much .nore she said which I do not remember, but the tone of her voice is as clearly sounding in my ear as if she still spoke. Yes, she had found peace, and more than peace, — overflowing unsi)eakable joy ; yet, even in the first gush of its shining waters, she thought of those around, and almost her first impulse was to desire that her friends should possess what had been given to her to find. Then she told me how, while every one had supposed her to be a Christian, she had not been so, though she had been seeking and praying for a long time ; and how, that day, the words "thy sins be forgiven thee" had struck her suddenly, and she had thought them over all day till the time came when she could be alone with Him who spoke them ; and then came the joyful power of believing in the love h 'Hi AVTOP!OGN.\rHY. 37 and niii^lit of that gracious Saviour, and His dcath- boiij^lu I'lirdon. Afterwards, she told nic how new and strange many things seemed to lier. The way in wliic h slie spoke of motives particularly imi)ressed me. It was a new light to me. Actions, words, and intentions had been enough for me before, but from that evening I felt that n v standard was raised, and that henceforth my strivings after a holy life must include more than I had dieamt of. A consciousness of the purity of heart required by (lod came over me ; and, though more disheartened than ever, I had learnt a great lesson. Tiie few remaining days, till the holidays, passed much as before, except that the last two or three unsettled me, and made me very much in(lis[)osed for a continuance of the earnest stead) toil of the foregoing weeks ; for the Jint coming home from school, at the end of an unbroken half-year, is not a little thing to a child. From that time till the spring of the present year I date a course of v;eary seeking, inconstant and variable; often departed Irom, but as often renewed, and by Ciod's grace never entirely given up ; brightened from time to time with a gleam of hope ; sweetened from time to time with a drop, though but a drop, of the still fountain of heavenly peace ; yet, as a rule, passed in the cold mists of doubt, and the chilly storms of temi)tation and inward strife, and the dim twilight of miserable and even dis- api)ointcd longing. Oh, how gladly I would have exchanged '.ly best things of earth, my happiest months and years, a= far as outward things were concerned, with any one s lot, however wretched, who possessed that joy in the Lord W^ 38 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H, which I could not find. At any time I would willingly have lost or suffered anything^ might it but have brought me to the attainment of "full assurance." And I am quite sure that nothifig, in the way of earthly and external trials, could have been to me what the inner darkness and strife and utter weariness of spirit, through the greater part of these years, has been. Many may have thought mine a comparatively thornless path ; but often when the path was smoothest there were hidden thorns within, and wounds bleeding and rankling. Ill 1!* :/' wmwk' February y 185 1. I feel that the beginning of this year ought to be marked as the commencement of a new life-chapter, because it was then that, for the first time, I ever knew what it was to have one gleam of hope or trust in Christ, or one spark of conscious faith. Not that I would date conversion exactly from this time; that I cannot fix. The time I know not, the fact I would desire to " make sure '* more and more. Having broken the ice by speaking on sacred things with a few at Belmont, it was the less difficult to do so again, and before long I had made a confidante of Miss Cooke (who afterwards became my loved mother). I think it must have been February when she was visiting at Oakhampton at the same time with me and had several conversations with me, each of which made me more earnest and hopeful. At last, one evening, (I remember it was twilight,) I sat on the drawing-room sofa alone with her, and told her again how I longed to know that I was forgiven. She asked me a question which led to the hearty answer that I was sure I desired it above everything on A UTOIUOGRA PII Y. 39 earth, that even my precious papa was nothing in com- parison, — brothers and sisters, and all I loved, I could lose everything were it but to attain this. She paused, and then said slowly : ** Then Fanny, I think, / am sure^ it will not be very long before your desire is granted, your hope fulfilled." After a few more words she said : "Why cannot you trust yourself to your Saviour at once? Supposing that now, at this moment, Christ were to come in the clouds of heaven, and take up His redeemed, could you not trust Him ? Would not His call. His promise, be enough for you ? Could you not commit your soul to Him, to your Saviour, Jesus ? " Then came a flash of hope across me, which made me feel literally breathless. I remember how my heart beat. "I could^ surely," was my re- sponse ; and I left her suddenly and ran away upstairs to think it out. I flung myself on my knees in my room, and strove to realize the sudden hope. I was very happy at last. I could commit my soul to Jesus. I did not, and need not, fear His coming. I could trust Him with my all for eternity. It was so utterly new to have any bright thoughts about religion that I could hardly believe it could be so, that I had really gained such a step. Then and there, I committed my soul to the Saviour, I do not mean to say without any trembling or fear, but I did — and earth and heaven seemed bright from that moment — I did trust the Lord Jesus. For the next few days my happiness continued. Over and over again, I renewed that giving up my soul to the Saviour which had made entrance for the joy. For the first time my Bible was siveet to me, and the first passage wi.ich I distinctly remember reading, in a new fFT fp 40 MEMORIALS OF F, R. U !t,. I i M Ml 1:1 i \ hi ji^ ■' 1 II ii;! and glad light, was the fourteenth and following chapters of St. j ohn's Gospel. We went to Bev/dley in the large carriage, and I rode outside, so had no conversation to disturb me. In coming home I took out a little Testament from my pocket, and read those beautiful chapters, feeling how wondrously loving and tender they were, and that now I too might share in their beauty and comfort. We must again leave the Autobiography, to supply some needed links. In July 185 1 our father married Caroline Ann, daughter of John Cooke, Esq., of Gloucester. One of Frances' poetical letters lovingly describes her satisfaction at this event. Her great desire to go to school was again gratified, and on the 5th of August, 185 1, she went to Powick Court, near Worcester. Being one of the fiist arrivals, Frances was invited to tea in the drawing-room, and exceedingly astonished Miss Haynes by throwing her arms around her, ex- claiming " I am so delighted to come to school ! " Towards December she was on the point of gain- ing many prizes, when the intensity of her appli- cation was checked by severe erysipelas in her face and head. She was soon removed home, and both school and home studies were prohibited by medical order, I well remember her patience even then, when almost blind, and passing many weeks \\ STUDIES l.V WELSH. 41 of precaution, wearisome to her naturally active mind and body. She was so extremely agile in every movement, a very fairy with her golden curls and light step, her dear father calling her his " Little Quicksilver," that to " lie still " was no li'dit trial. Extracts from letters to Elizabeth Clay, her schoolfellow and life-long correspondent, will here and elsewhere supply an otherwise lost link ; they ext,.id over a period of twenty-eight years, and are those referred to in future pages as letters " to E. C." CoLWYN, North AVales, August 1852. We came here on the 2nd. The change is doing us all good, and we think dear pajja's eyes are a little better. Colwyn suits me much better than Llandudno, a!id I am as well as possible. We find pretty walks ad infuiituin. The donkey-girl teaches me W^elsh. I think I learn it very fast, and I have a Welsh Testament and Prayer Book. At what Mary calls the " Taffy service " I can sing and chant and respond as fully as the natives tlicmselves. . . . Now for a little quiet bit, to tell you how I am getting on. I wish I were not so impatient as I am, at hearing the (to me) dreadful news that I must on no account go to school again till after Christmas, and perhaps not at all ! Oh I am so disappointed ! I cannot bear to be ignorant and behind others in learning, so this check is just what I most needed. Still, I am sure it will be all 42 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. right ; and if I receive good tilings at the hand of such a Father, shall I murmur at such a drawback, which is only to teach me a lesson I must learn after all. . . . How bright everything seems with you ! I fear I shall never have such joy, still I do not give up seeking ; Imt there seem so many things in the way. I have been thinking a great deal about my confirmation, though it will not be for two years. It seems such a solemn vow. I fear I should never have strength to keep it ; but it is one of my most constant prayers that, if I am spared to be confirmed, I may never act as if I had not been. CHAPTER IV. (1852-1855.) School at Dusseldorf — Journey to Westphalia — Leaving school — Numero I. — Autobiography resumed — Life in the pastor's family — The Countess von Lippe — Letter from Pastor Schulze- Berge — The day of confirmation — In Worcester cathedral— •'Thine for ever" — Home life — Oakhampton enjoyment — *• Welcome home to my fatlier." IN November she accompanied her parents to Germany. (To E, C.) Grafrath, November 1852. . . . We arrived here, that papa might consult the great oculist, Dr. De Leuw. The Hofrath is very good to his poor patients, and attends to them most carefully, and never charges them anything ; the village is full of them. The country rounc* Grafrath must be pretty in summer, and I have found some aice walks. The master of our hotel has a partiality for cats and dogs, and, as they follow him up to bed every night, the gentle patter of fifty-two feet is extremely amusing. The Hofrath says papa has incipient cataract, which he hopes to be able to disperse. As we need remain here only three weeks, we shall winter in Dusseldorf. I will tell you about my school there, to which i am long- ing to return. The " Louisenschule " is so called from 44 MEMORIALS OF F, K, II. \ i!! the Queen of Prussia. There are no private schools here, and all the young ladies seem to attend this school, which numbers one hundred and ten scholars. . . . {To E, C.) KONIGSWINTER, Jlfjy I3, 1853. , . , Having had a month's holiday here, I am going back to the Louisenschule. Fraulein Quincke is a very excellent schoolmistress, and the masters are un- doubtedly very good. My mr .^ master is extremely particular. I find some harmonic scales by Mendelssohn good practice, but all my pretty English splashy pieces are interdicted. I have joined the drawing class and am so fond of it. The school is under the direction of that good man, Pastor Krafft, so altogether papa has decided to let me have my way and return to school, while he and mamma travel about. I can chatter pretty fast in German, and am so well m with all their lesson plan:?, that I should be sorry not to return. I had an excellent testimony at the Easter examination. Papa has taken us an excursion into Westphalia, partly in the hope of finding some interesting cousins there, inasmuch as Dr. De Leuvv and others assure us our name is Westphalian. But so far we have not suc- ceeded. We were delighted with Miinster, the capital, a curious old German town. The market place is sur- rounded with beautiful arcades of massive stone (instead of wood as at Chester), the light figurate pillars and open stonework are extremely elegant. While mamma rested at the hotel, papa took me to the cathedral. The bells were chiming confusedly. It was a lovely evening after sunset. We went in, and I never saw any- MUiVSTER CA TIIEDRAL, 45 5 here, chool, I am icke is ire iin- remely ilssohn pieces ind am tioii of pa has school, • pretty lesson lad an phalia, bousins iure us tt suc- hital, a is sur- nstead Irs and lamma ledral. lovely kv any- thing so enchanting. The light, soft and faint, streamed in through the western window, casting upon the pave- ment, beneath, the shadows of the marble pillars which suijported the organ, in a peculiar way. Scattered about were a few solitary worshippers, some before a cross or image, and some with books and tapers. We listened to what seemed to be the sound of very sweet clianting in the choir, but on going nearer it had ceased, and was echoing in another part. It was in fact the sound of the bells, their extremely beautiful tones floating softly through the long aisles of the cathedral. Altogether I cannot describe the impressions made upon one, but I can well imagine how the worshippers, kneeling about the cathedral, might mistake the quiet soothing feeling, which such a scene easily induces, for holy devotion. Popery knows well how to lull and deceive, knows well how to entrap the senses and feelings ; and nothing can be better suited to the natural heart than such a religion. Next morning a C/nfirmation was held in one of the churches we happened to vis t, and there, for the first time, I saw the elevation of t'le host. Have you ever seen it? You should for once. IL is so saddening, so dreadful, at the tinkling of a bell to see a whole congre- gation kneel and worship a wafer ! Afterwards there was a procf 3sion round the .church twenty times, with the host, acolytes, and incense, which same incense gives everything the most heathenish look ; and, while banners and crosses and pictures of saints passed round, a litany to the saints was chanted, with " Ora pro nobis " coming over and over again. We have made other excursions, elvj. How much pleasure 1 have had, all I wish and all I want ; but am I (Tip ' i 46 MEMORIALS OF F. K. If. I, 9 III '111 I i 1 I ;! ti i' \ ]■ i \ having my good tilings here? I wish I kneiv which Master I am serving. Should I Jet go my hold on Christ so often and so readily, if mine were a true hold on Him ? I began so well at school, and thought that earthly learning would not for this time tempt me to forget heavenly things ; but day after day I grew more eager for my lessons, and less earnest in seeking Jesus. . . . It is pleasant to get good news from England. I am so proud and pleased about my brother Frank. He was ordained at Christmas, and accepted a curacy at Hereford with good Mr. Hanbury. Six months after- ward 5 he was appointed to a minor canonry at Hereford Cathedral ; so he is the youngest Minor Canon ever elected in England. My dear brother Henry has an- other little daughter ; how I love my brothers ! (,To E. C.) Obercassel, September 17, 1853. , . , I have left school for ever I suppose, and came here from Diisseldorf. What a suffocating feeling it is, leaving schooler ever — a period, an era, completely passed and left behind ! One feels that childhood is over now, and a sense of tenfold increased responsi- bility and independence, so to speak, is a weight upon the spirit. The strings seem loosed which have hitherto bound and yet protected one, — a child's obedience and diligence. One's future education and formation of character, whether for good or evil, depends now upon oneself ; indeed in a measure one's whole life, one's happiness or misery through the whole pilgrimage, must be very, vety greatly influenced by, and dependent on, that important time, the first year after leaving school. CHILD HOOD PAST, 47 Many a power of mind must be exercised which, as yet, has had little opportunity to try its flight ; judgment and discretion in a thousand things are needful; one must think and act far more for oneself; self-denial must be learnt ; oh so much has to be done ! As a child, the education of the mind was more in other hands, but now the education of mind and heart 's confided to one's own care, and there will be an account to give of how tliis has been performed. One's spirit is a precious diamond ; the rougher cutting work has been done by other hands, now one must undertake its further beautify- ing oneself, the polishing and grinding needs care and dih'gence and attention, and if neglected how shall we find an excuse with the great Master Jeweller, who had given the costly stone into our care ? Now a different place in life, in society, and in one's own family must be occupied; more is expected from one, many a little burden from which the child is exempt must now be taken up voluntarily. Then the past years, as memory brings the long panorama slowly, one picture after another, before one's view, how spotted, how defiled are even the fairest of these scenes ; every year having brought new guilt to be mourned over! But thankfulness must not be for- gotten amid the whirl of conflicting feelings and thoughts ; not drops but rich full measure of happiness filled my cup, at least through the greater part of this time ; and many blessings, which till now I have scarcely been aware of, ought to make me very grateful to Him, who does indeed let His sun shine on the most unthankful and evil. You experienced all this a year ago, and so will understand it. . . . You will like to know the result of my last examina- I If I Jill I ;i ill ; * iifan lyi * MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. tion. Only fancy, when the testimonies were given out at the Louisenschule, amidst heart beating and cheek flushing (especially mine), " Frances Havergal, Nunicro Eins/" broke the still silence of the awed assemblage. You understand German enough to know that cins means one. Proud I was, partly on account of being a daughter of Britain. I did not go to sleep till nearly midnight, for pure delight and satisfaction. I can't be satisfied without telling my friend the whole of the history. In the Louisenschule, when a girl has not learnt everything (as you know I did not), she receives merely her testimony but Jto 7i umber. This half-year, however, it seems that all the masters, in council assem- bled, were so very well pleased with the Engldndcrin'?, (English girl's) papers and conduct that they agreed to break their rule for once, and honour me with Numcro /., a thing which they had never done before I Autobiography Resumed. The year 1853 was unique in some things. I was at school at Diisseldorf part of it ; and stood alone (os far as I know) among the no girls. I do not think there was one besides myself who cared for religion. This was very bracing. I felt I must try to walk worthy of my calling, for Christ's sake ; and it brought a new and very strong desire to bear witness for my Master, to adorn His doctrine, and to win others for Him. It made me more watchful and earnest than perhaps ever before, for I knew that any slip, in word or deed, would bring discredit on my profession. There was very much enmity to any profession, and I came in for more unkindness than AUTOniOGRAPIIY AND LETTER. 49 would have been possible in an average English school, where I believe the tone is infinitely higher in every way and the supervision far more strict. Results were : as to my schoolfellows none^ I do not knoio that I did any good among them ; though, towards the end of the time, several were certainly disarmed, and left off the small persecutions in which they had delighted, and were even affectionate to me. As to teachers, I had the reward of leaving with the best znigniss in the whole school, and with the highest praise and regret from every one. As to myself, it was a sort of nailing my colours to the mast. 1 had taken a higher standard than ever before, and had come out more boldly and decidedly on the Lord's side than I might have done for years under ordinary circumstances. Yet the tide ebbed again before many months had passed, and I remember longing to be able to say "O God, my heart is fixed," — in bitter mourn- ing over its weakness and wavering. {^Letter to E. C.) Obercassel, 1853. You will want to know, dear Elizabeth, what brings me here. Dear papa's eyes have been lately quite at a standstill as to improvement. He is now with manmia at Heidelber,^, leaving me under the care of a good pastor and his wife. Obercassel is a pleasant village on the Rhine. We see the Drachenfels, with a peep into a narrow rock-shut-in valley, through which the Rhine flows from Coblenz. That you may glance into my room, I send herewith a Rai)hnel!stic sketch thereof ! Busts of Goethe and Schiller, shelves and table covered B I A/Z-AfOAVJ/.S OF F. R. II. with German ami French hooks, etc., etc. It will soon be dusk, and then I go down and take my place by the Pastor Schulze-Berge, who will read aloud, while the pleasant frau pastorin and Lottchen work or knit. Conversational interruptions, serious or amusing, will take their turn ; and Goethe, whose life is the subject, will be criticised in every light. Now, is not this very pleasant? I like my quarters amazingly, and am very hapi)y. I get up at five o'clock, breakfast at seven ; then I study for four hours. Of course my books are nearly all German, and I write abstracts ; I also give one hour to French literature. How I do enjoy myself when I get to the German poets and Universal History, which I dive into with avidity. If anything strikes me, I can always refer to the good pastor. . . . . . I have opportunities here of seeing a little of German high life. Close by is the " court " of the Count von Lippe, a family worthy of their rank and title. They live very simply, because they give more than half their income away. The dowager countess is a ,^rfect pattern r*" a Christian noble lady, also her gentle suffering daughter, Mathilda. The count and Mvu wife are now travelling in Italy. Then there is an adopted daughter, F'raulein von Clondt, whom I like very much. To her I go now .egularly from 9 to lo a.m., to read some German author, which is very nice for me and very kind of her. Besides that, I am constantly invited there to tea or for some excursions, so that I see many of the German aristocracy who are often there. One of the countess's daughters is a princess ; I should like her to come while I am here, as I have never GE/^MAN PASTOR'S LETTER. Jt spoken to a princess in my life ! I am often on the Rliiiic, and I always row a little, it's such fun! . . . The Oerman language is very easy to me, for except on Sundays, which i spend with the English clergy- man of Diisseldorf, I never hear or speak English. It is most absurd now when I begin to si^eak English ; I cannot get to think in it, and keep translating German expressions which seem so much more natural to me to use. I must go to Diisseldorf to visit Fraulein Quincke, whose especially beloved pii[)il I was. One of her friends, Herr Niessen, an artist, was to paint a portrait of me for her ; but he was ill and could not do it till the last day, and so he only sketched one.* Not many weeks more till I see you, — hurrah ! {Pastor Schuhe-Berge to M. V. G. H.) September 24, 1879. It is a joy to myself to give you some information about your beloved sister Frances' progress in those studies in which I had the privilege of being her instructor. I had the greatest esteem for her while she was in our house, which only deepened each time I saw her again or heard of her work. She was committed to my care for her studies in 1853, at Obercassel. I instructed her in German composition, * This fact about the artist's sketch led to recent search for it. After many failures, Messrs. Elliott and Fry traced it by some artist friends. The portrait was first heard of at Cologne, then at Bonn, and finally found in Fraulein Quincke's possession there, and sent to London. f f ^PY 52 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. literature, and history; I learned to appreciate her rich talents and mental powers, so that the lessons were more pleasure than work. She showed from the first such application, such rare talent, such depth of compreliension, tliat I can only speak of her progress as extraordinary She acquired such a knowledge of our most celebrated autliors in a short time as even German ladies attain only after much longer study. They were precious moments when I unfolded to her the character of one of our no])lcst poets and thinkers, and let her have a glimpse into the splendour of his works. Stirred to the depths of her soul, she burst out enthusiastically, "Oh what mental giants, what gifted men, these Germans are !" What imprinted the stamp of nobility upon her whole being, and influenced all her opinions, was her true piety, and the deep reverence she had for her Lord and Saviour, whose example penetrated her young life through and through. Seldom have I been more touched than by the news of her early " going home," but she is with Him to whom her soul belonged, her Lord. With the united remembrance of Adelheid (her goddaughter) and all my family, Yours very sincerely, Pastor Schulze-Berge. In December 1853 Fanny returned with her parents to England. Passing over many months, we come to the solemn and long anticipated time of her confirmation in Worcester Cathedral, by Dr. Henry Pepys, Bishop of Worcester. > 'I CONFTRMA TrOiV RF.CORD. 53 [From her Sealed Papers.] Ju/y 17, 1854. Now, on the evening of my confirmation cUiy, I will look back upon it, and briefly endeavour to write some little record of it, for my own interest and profit in coming years. Satan has been busy with me all this day. I rose early ; he then tried to persuade me to put off, little by little, my reading of the Bible and prayer, and to some extent succeeded in making me do other minor things first, and in preoccupying my mind. At length I knelt. I looked back on all my past life, and tried to thank God for all ; but the praise was not .^'o fer- vent as it should have been, nor the prayer so earnest, for a blessing not only on this day but on my f:iture life ; and my soul was grieved at this coldness. But, ere I rose, my heart did seem a little warmer and Jesus a little nearer. . . . In the procession to Worcester Cathedral Ellen Wakeman was my companion. On renching our seat very near the rails, I sunk on my knees, and for the first time to-day the thought c'' " whose I am " burst upon me, and I prayed " my God, oh, my oiun Father, Thou blessed Jesus my otun Saviour, Thou Holy Spirit rny 07on Comfor'ier,'' and I stopped. It sciicely seeine'l right for me to use the language of such strong assurance as this, but yet I did not retract. The Litany only was chanted ; and, though my thoughts would fain have flown with each petition^ heavenward, yet every little thing seemed /reb/y a distraction, and liie chanting was too often the subject of my thoughts. My heart beat very fast, and my breath almost seemed to 54 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. ^^\ \ \ % / stop, while the solemn question was being put by the bishop. Never I think did I feel my own weakness and utter helplessness so much. I hardly dared answer ; but " the Lord is my strength " was graciously suggested to me, and then the words quickly came from (I trust) my very heart ; " Lord, I cannot without Thee, but oh, with Thy almighty help, — I do." I believe that the solemnity of what had just bc^n ut- tered, with its exceeding comprehensiveness, was realized by me as far as my mind could grasp it. I thought -a good deal of the words " now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling " ; and that was my chief comfort. We were the first to go up, and I was the fourth or fifth on whom the bishop laid his hands. At first, the thought came as to who was kneeling next to me, but then the next moment I felt alone, unconscious of my fellow can- didates, of the many eyes fixed upon us, and the many thoughts of and prayers for me, alone with God and His chief minister. My feelings when his hands were placed on my head (and there was solemnity and earnest- ness in the very touch and manner) I cannot describe, they were too confused ; but when the words " Defend, O Lord, this Thy child with Thy heavenly grace, that she may continue Thine for ever, and daily increase in Thy Holy Spirit more and more, until she come unto Thy everlasting kingdom," were solemnly pronounced, if ever my heart followed a prayer it did then, if ever it thrilled with earnest longing not unmixed with joy, it did at the words "Thine for ever." But, as if in no feeling I might or could rest satisfied, there was still a longing " oh that I desired this yet more earnestly, that I be- lieved \\.yct more fully." We returned to our seats, and *• THINE I' OR EVER. 55 for some time I wei)t, why I hardly know, it was not grief, nor anxiety, nor exactly joy. About an hour and a cjuarter elapsed before all the candidates had been up to the rails ; part of the time being spent in meditation on the double transaction which was now sealed, and in thinking that I was now more than ever His ; but I still rather sadly wished that I could fed more. Many portions of Scripture passed through my mind, particularly part of Romans viii. . . . Each time that the " Amen" was Mited in a more distant part of the cathedral, after the "i)efend" had been pronounced, it seemed as though a choir of angels had come down to witness, and pour out from their pure spiriis a deep and felt " Amen." The bishop pronounced the closing blessing so very impressively that it was like soothing balm to me, and the thought came "why should I doubt that my soul will indeed receive the blessing which God's minister is thus giving? why did God appoint him thus to bless if it were to be a mere idle form ? May not His blessing accompany them, and ..." The paper was not finished, nor can any account of her fir t communion be found. In her manu- script booK of poems she wrote : " Thine for Ever." Oh ! " Thine tor ever,'' what a blessed thing To be for ever His who died for me ! My Saviour, all my lifc Thy praise I '11 sing, Nor cesbie aiy »jng throughout eternit}'. hi the CatliCiiial^ July 17, 1854. -i:|,i 56 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ 11. 1 > f, . 1 ■f i ij v 1\ 1^ ^ % She alv/ays kept the anniversary of her confirm- ation day. When at Celbridge (1875), her juvenile instructor in Hebrew (John H, Shaw) remembers on one of these occasions missing her at their hour for study, and that she spent most of the day in holy retirement. So lately as 1876 and 1877 she seems to have renewed her confirmation vow, in the following verses. A Covenant Now, Lord, I give myself to Thee, I would be wholly Thine ; As Thou hast given Thyself to me. And Thou art wholly mine , Oh take rae, seal me as Thine own, Thine altogether — Thine alone. {July 1876.) Only for Jesus ! Lord, keep it for ever, Sealed on the heart and engraved on the life ! Pulse of all gladness, and nerve of endeavour. Secret of rest, and the strength of our strife ! {July 1877.) We now return to her home life after her con- firmation in 1854. She carefully kept up all her stuttlcs, )ier ab- stracts in German, French, and English showing the rapidity and variety of her reading. With her father's help she acc^uired sufficient knowledge of (iiin,;ij,;t !HHy«:!iii,l 4 ''ivelcoajJ home I*' 57 Greek to enjoy studying the New Testament. Her manuscript book contains twenty-five original German and English poems, beside poetical enigmas and charades, which she contributed to various pocket books under the name of "Sabrina" and " Zoide," and for which she often obtained prizes, the money thus gained being sent to the Church Missionary Society. Oakhampton, May 14, 1855. Here I am in the height of enjoyment with my brother Frank. Little Miriam's absence is a drawback. My Evelyn is ill ; but she is very gentle and patient, indeed I never saw a sick child so utterly without fret- fulness. She is lovely, a perfect sunbeam, with golden wavy hair. ... How rife everything in spring seems with beautiful emblems. I don't mean such as are already down in poetry books, but those wildly, lovely, intangible similes which flit across the mind, like the shadows of a flying bird ! Our dear father had again been to Grafrath ini 1855, and returned with his eyesight much better. Frances writes : Is not this glorious ? Such sudden improvement we hardly dared to hope for. We shall see papa in the reading desk on Sunday, where he has not been for nearly four years ! Oh, we are so happy. Papa and mamma came home on Saturday. We welcomed them in style. I HP IB '<' 58 MEMORIALS Of F. R. If. made a triumphal arch over the hall-door with flowers and greenery, over the study door papa's crest in flowers, and over the dining-room a banner with the words in rosebuds and leaves, * Welcome Home.' Oh it was so nice that dear papa was able to see it ; directly he came in he knelt down with us all, and offered such beautiful prayer or rather praise ! » k Cli ■< '!! CHAPTER V. (1856— 1860.) Ireland — F, R. 11. and the Irish girls — Hebrew studies — Grateful memory of Bible class teachings — " Nearer heaven ! " — Chapters learnt — " Touching the hem " — Leaving St. Nicholas' — The loving teacher — Last page in Sunday Scholar's Register — Welcome to Shareshill. AN Irish school-girl pens the following recollec- tions of meeting F. R. H. on her first visit to Celbridge Lodge, Ireland, May 1856. Five o'clock p.m. was the hour appointed for the elder girls from the school to arrive at the Lodge. Mrs. Sliaw met us at the hall door with gentle words to each, and then brouglit us into the drawing-room, we being in a great state of delight at the thought of seeing " the little English lady." In a few seconds Miss Frances, carol- ling like a bird, flashed into the room ! Flashed ! yes, I say the word advisedly, flashed in like a burst of sunshine, like a hillside breeze, and stood before us, her fair sunny curls fiilling round her shoulders, her bright eyes dancing, and her fresh sweet voice ringing through the room. I shall never forget that afternoon, never ! I sat perfectly spellbound as she sang chant and hymn with marvellous swcttness, and then played two or three pieces of Handel, which thrilled me through and through. She 1 i h ■J ill I !•: t 60 MEMOKTALS OF F. R. IT. finished with singing her father's tune (Hobah) to " The Church of our fathers." She shook hands with each, and said with a merry laugh : " the next time I come to Ireland I think we must get up a little singing class, and then you know you must all sing with me !" As we walked home down the shady avenue one and another said : " Oh, isn't she lovely ? and doesn't she sing like a born angel ! " "I love her, I do ; and I 'd follow her every step of the way back to England if I could." " Oh, she's a real Colleen Bawn 1" Another of the class felt, all the time, that there must be the music of God's own love in that fair singer's heart, and that so there was joy in her face, joy in her words, joy in her ways. And the secret cry went up from that young Irish heart : *' Lord, teach me, even me, to know and love Thee too." t On her next visit to Ireland the singing class was formed. An invalid remembers at this time her "tender lovingkindness in lonely days of sorrow and suffering. It was Miss Frances who first taught me Greek, which was suck an interest and help to me, and afterwards she gave me Hebrew lessons too. Truly can I say, 'I thank my God on every remembrance of thee !*" Frances much enjoyed the study of Hebrew this summer with J. H. S. During a pleasant expedition through county Wicklow one of our party was a learned Hebrew scholar. It rather discomfited our good brother-in-law that Frances' VISIT TO IRELAND. 6i attention seemed deeper in investigating hjs knowledge of Hebrew psalms and grammar than in the surrounding geography of glens and passes. One other incident of her Irish visits was her attendance at a Bible class, conducted by the Rev. M. J. Bickerstafifc (now Vicar of Cookley). Side by side with the tiniest children Frances took her seat, and long afterwards referred to the pleasure and benefit of his instructions. September 20, 1869. Dear Mr. Bickerstaffe, — . . . . I am so sorry not to be well enough to hear you preach this morning. Your sermons and Bible classes in 1865 were more real help to me than any I ever heard. I always look gratefully back to them as having done more to open my eyes to the " wondrous things " in God's word than any other human instrumentality. Yours affectionately and gratefully. The year 1858 had not much incident. She mentions her pleasure in listening to her father's Lent lectures on the Queen of Sheba, and tells her friend E : "the lectures arc beautiful ; you could not form an idea of their fulness and fresh- ness without hearing them. These typical sermons are what papa specially excels in ! " She writes of — gleams and glimpses, but oh to be filled with joy f yfT i 1^!. , f^ ■i 1 ■ 111. ■.^ f ' 1 . t 1 c C2 Ml:MONIALS OF /'. A. If. and the Holy Ghost ! Oh, why v,annot I trust Him fully ? How very sweet those words are, " I write unto you, little children, because your sins are forgiven you for His name's sake." They have comforted me, for I am but a little child, only a babe in the spiritual life, and this seems so tenderly addressed to such. IJut oh that I could grow up in Him ! Sometimes I have felt almost happy in trying to reaUze what you write to me about, and at times I have gone on praying and pouring out all to Him, till time seemed forgotlen, and I could scarcely rise and come back to earthly things. On( e I had a strange thrill of joy at a passing, and may-be foolish, thought You know hf w suffering I have been. Well, one evening, passing the looking-glass in the twilight, I caught sight of myself v ther flushed, and I thought it looked like the hectic s^^ot that foretells mortal disease. I know I am not in the remotest degree consumptive, but for an instant I thought it might be so. Oh the extraordinary thrill of delight the idea brought, that possibly I might be nearer heaven than I thought ! It was almost ecstatic gladness ; and then a chill of disappointment came when my common sense told me it could not be so ! But, in whatever way or time death comes to either of us, may our lamps be trimmed and burning From this time her letters tell of "The tremulous gleams of early days, The first faint thrills of love and praise, Vibrating fitfully." She seems to have read and learned the Scrip- i HOME LIFE. 7 Among all my St. Nicholas memories, none will be fonder or deeper than my class. I cannot tell any one how I loved them, I should hardly be believed ; no one in the parish, either rich or poor, called forth the same love that they did. Neither could I tell how bitter and grievous any misbehaviour among them was to me, no one knows the tears they have cost me ; and because no one guessed at the depth of eitiier the love or the sorrow, I had but little sym|)athy under disappointments with them. I am v rung in one thing I know, but can- not help it ; the feeling that, though I may have a very sincere love anr) interest in other children, yet I should never be able to give any future class the same intensity of affection which these have won and some of them have reciprocated. It has been to my own soul a means of grace. Often, when cold and lifeless in prayer, my nightly intercession for them has unsealed the frozen fountain, and the bless- ings sought for them seemed to fall on myself. Often and often have my own words to them been as a message to myself of warning or peace. My only regret is that I did not spend more time in preparing my lessons for them, not more on their account than my own, for seldom have Bible truths seemed to reach and touch me more than when seeking to arrange and simplify them for my children. Therefore, I thank God that these children have been entrusted to me ! For some time past several of them have come to me, once a week, for separate reading and prayer. These times I have enjoyed very much. I rather dissuaded than otherwise, unless any real desire after salvation was mani- fested; and I do think tliat this was so far ellectual fffT > I 68 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. that nearly all of those who did come were, at least at the tim?, truly in earnest on the great question. I mark * the regular, X the occasional comers. Nearly two years have already passed since they were "my children," and I cannot say that my love and interest have yet diminished. I went to Oakhampton at Midsummer 1859, ana on my return relinquished them with great secret regret for another class. I have one token of their love ; given me, not by the then existing " 2nd class," but by those of both ist and 2nd who were *' my children." This I treasure for their sakes, yet the remembrance of their love is more than its outward sign. I trust it has been true bread which I have cast upon these waters ; my Saviour knows, and He only, my earnest longings that these little ones should be Mis own. I think I am quite content now that others should see the fruit, so that it be but truly borne, that others should enter into my feeble and wanting labours. But, in dear papa's words, I do most fervently pray, " May all whose names are written here In the Lamb's Book of Life appear I " F. R. H., March i860. Leaving St. Nicholas was to Frances a strange mixture of sorrow and thankfulness, '* because I do care more for papa and his health than for any- thing else in all the whole world ! But it is not a trifle to leave the many, rich and poor, with whom one has necessarily become more or less REMOVAL TO SHARnSIin.L. 69 entwined in a way which none but a clcrLjy man's family can. Yet I hope dear papa will find com- parative rest and strength in consequence, by goin^^ to the little country parish of Shareshill. Papa is so very much to me, so much more than all besides ! lie has been very ill again, and this puts an end to all ideas of farewell sermons or visits. It is wonderfully thrilling to see him in illness, such utter peacefulness, such grand conceptions of God's absolute sovereignty in everything, such quiet re- joicing in His will, be it what it may ; such shining trust in Him, in and for everything, personal or parochial." The removal to Shareshill proved beneficial, and the welcome of the parishioners was pleasing and encouraging. Frances writes : " The first step, in the way of improvement at Shareshill, has been to abolish the Sunday post ; to obtain this, the inhabitants were, as required, unanimous." This subject was deeply felt by her, ever sympathising, as she did, with the men deprived of their Sun- day rest ; and she often grieved that some of her Christian friends did not take it up. Among the .subjects upon which she intended writing, when c illcd home in 1879, was "Sunday Postal Burdens." And, in a letter the same year, she writes : " I do think we Church of England are more conscientious about Sunday post than some others. 1 was de- ■vy\ '.' i fnpif i ' tn ',11 70 MEMORIALS OF F. R. IL lighted when visiting ' B. M. * to see with the notice of post times (in the hall) * no delivery or despatch on Sunday.' 'No manner of work' must include postal delivery, and it is not right to ignore it ; it grieves me when son^e double-first-class Christians do not consider the subject." •0 CHAPTER VI. (1861— 1869.) Oakliampton — A new power — Musical gifts — Deep borings — Subjects for prayer — llillcr's commendation — Rcmarlvaljle power of harmonizing — Welcome to Winterdyne — Stormy petrelism — Sent empty away — Calmer waters — Joining Yoimg Women's Christian Association — London — "Guess •ny birthday treat ! " — Signor Randegger — Epitome of his first singing4esson — New home at Leamington — How poems came — My Evelyn ! — " The Two Rings " — Weary and sad — First sight of Alpine mountains. IN February 1 861, by the wish of her sister and her brother-in-law Henry Crane, Frances under- took the instruction of her two youngest nieces, and made Oakhampton her second home. Her father approved of this plan, because he thought it would prevent her from pursuing" the severe studies so prejudicial to her health. The lesson hours V "re very short, owing to the temperament of both teacher and pupils, and she had many and long changes of scene, at the seaside, at home and abroad. She entered with zest into the recrca- tioubof her young compan'ons, riding and scramb- ling, swimming and skating, croquet and chess, each in its turn, and excelled in them all. Her it? m I ! It! k ■;i:|j?>'' 72 MEMORIALS OF F. I J I. needlework was exquisite, from the often de- spised darning to the most delicate lace work and embroidery. How she redeemed her time these few lines will prove : " Stirrin^^^ you up, dearie, to mental improvement is no new subject to me. I know, by my own teaching days, how very much might be learnt in all the odds and ends of time, how (e.g.) I learnt all the Italian verbs while my nieces were washing their hands for dinner after our walk, because I could be ready in five minutes less time than they could." The faithful old nurse well remembers " vexing over Miss Frances's hard studying, and that she found her at those Latin books long before breakfast." Her one great object was the education of her nieces for eternity, not for time only ; and not merely religious knowledge, but the realiiics of faith and holy living, were dwelt upon. From the close of her Autobiography, darkness seems often to have clouded her path. From time to time she writes : I had hoped that a kind of table-land had been reached in my journey, where I might walk awhile in the light, without the weary succession of rock and hollow, crag and morass, stumbling and striving ; but I seem borne back into all the old difficulties of the way, with many sin- made aggravations. I think the great root of all my trouble and alienation is that 1 do not now make an un- LIGHT AND SHADE. 73 reserved surrender of myself to God ; and until this is (lone I shall know no peace, I am sure of it. I have so much to regret : a greater dread of the opinion of worldly friends, a loving of the world, and proportionate cooling in heavenly desire and love A power utterly new and unexpected was given me [singing and composition of music], and rejoicing in this 1 forgot the Giver, and found such delight in this that other things paled before it. It need not have been so ; and, in better moments, I ])rayed that if it were indeed hindering me the gift of song might be withdrawn. And now that through my ill health it is so, and that the pleasure of public ai^plause when singing in the Philhari.ionic concerts is not again to exercise its delicious delusion, I do thank Him who heard my prayer. But I often pray in the dark, as it were, and feel no response from above. Is this to test me ? Oh that I may be preserved from giving up in desjjair, and yielding, as I so often do, to the floodtide enemy. I want to make the most of my life and to do the best with it, but here I feel my desires and motives need much purifying ; for, even where all would sound fair enough in words, an element of self, of lurking pride, may be detected. Oh, that He would indeed purify me and make me white at any cost ! No one professing to be a Ciiristian at all could possibly have had a more cloudy, fearing, doubting, sinning, and wandering heart history than mine has been through many years. The first part of this year (1865) 1 was very poorly, and on the old r(fgime of having to give up everything, Sunday school and Saturday evening class, visiting, |4»'i Iff I I I 4 ifcll f4 MEMORIALS OF R A\ II. music, etc. It \Yas very trying to me, specially so because I had rather built upon being stronger, and several points of interest had arisen whic'i made me feel the more being shut off from all. But it was very good for me ; I was able to feel tiiankful for it, and to be glad that God had taken me in hand as it were. I do not think I would have chosen otherwise than as He ordered it forme; but it seems as if my spiritual life would never go without weights, and I dreui needing more discipline. Deep borings, even down into darksome depths, often precede the supply of unfailing springs of refreshing water. Thus my dear sister knew much of doubt and gloom, so that she might be able to comfort others and reveal to them God's deep teachings in the darkness. Then, when she after- wards found such jo)- in the wells of salvation, she drew forth these teachings, refreshing other weary and thirsty ones with her words of s}'mpathy both in poetry and prose. It may be useful to copy the paper kept in her liible, showing how she arranged the subjects of her prayers. For daily Morning Prayer. Watchfulness. Gua^-d over temper. Consistency. Faithfulness to opportunities. For the Holy Spirit. For a vivid love to Christ. risr GFR.^r.iXY, W Afiif (liiy Prayer. Karnestncss of spirit in desire, in prayer, and in all work. Faith, ho])e, love. Fa'chiu-^ Prayer. Forgiveness. To see my sinrulncss in its true light. (Irowth in grace. Against morning sleepiness as hind- rance to time for prayer. The initials of all iicr relatives and friends are distributed to each day, and various items of inter- cession added, such as : That my life may be laid out to the best advantage as to God's glory and others' good. For the Church Missionary Society and Zenana work. For success and usefulness wi';h my subscribers. For the poor wliom I visit. For the Irish Society. Guidance and (if it is God's will) success as to music. For my Sunday school class. For the servants. In the winter of 1865-6 Frances revisited her Gorman friends, and also resided some time with her parents at Bonn. HavinjT composed many songs, she was anxious for some verdict on their merit. The f(>ll(»\\ing letter describes her interview with Fliller, the German musician. Clapton Square, February i, 1866. Dear Miriam, — / 1 must take up my history where I left off, and give you the Cologne story at last. To begin at the beginning, M I. ? i:iii: fm W ' 76 MP. MORI ALU OF F. />. //. Elizabeth C. told the Schiilzeberges of my composing, and so they were curious about it and wanted me to go to the Musical Academy of Cologne. As I declared that out of the (juestion, they hoped \ would go to Ferdi- nand Miller, whom they consider the greatest living composer and authority, and show him my songs. I shrunk from this because I expected nothing but utter quenching from such a man ; still I thought that after all I might as well know the worst, and if he thought scorn of all I had done, that would decide me to waste no more time over it ; while, if I got a favourable verdict, if ever opportunity should arise of prosecuting the stiufy of composition, I should do so with a clearer conscience and better hopes. To my utter amazement, papa quite urged me to go, and a pleasant mirage of a possible musical term at Cologne screwed my courage up to writing to Hiller, who replied kindly, and made an appointment with me. I went with mamma, such a queer way among the Rhine wharfs, and through narrow streets scarcely wide enough for the droschky to pass, till we emerged in a more open part, and found Killer's abode. He is a small elderly man, quiet in manner, of handsome and peculiar Jewish physiognomy (he is a Jew), with a forehead remarkably like papa's, and terribly clever looking eyes ; I think one would single him out as a genius among any number. He was in a double room full of musical litter, with a handsome grand piano in the middle. He received us very politely, and asked me a few questions (he is a man of few words), and then took my book of songs and sat down to read it through, giving me a volume of poetry to amuse myself with mean- while. You may imagine 1 didn't read much ! He made INTEKVrnW WITH IIILI.ER. 77 no remark till he was about tlircc '{iKirtcrs throiigli, when he uirncd and said : " What instriu 'ion have you had ? " I told him of Halhcrley's having corrected my first six songs, and that I had a musical lather to wrioui I occa- sionally referred difficult points, and with whom I had musical talk in general. " I do not care arnihing about that," said he, " I mean what regular musical course have you gone through, and under what professor?" I told him I had done nothing of thi s-a. He looked very hard at me, as if to see if I was telling the trutii, and then turned back to my music, saying, *' In that case I find this very remarkable !" When he had finished he deliverc i his verdict, the worst part first. He said my melodies bore ihe stamp of talent, not of genius. "In the early works of great composers," he said, " one comes across things that startle and strike you ; ideas so utterly fresh and novel that you feel there is great creative power. I do not find this in your melodies ; they are not bad ; on the conirary I find them very pleasing and many really very good, but they are thoroughly English in character and iype ; I do not consider tluit English melodies rank highest. But, as for your harmonies, I nmst say I am astonished. It is something singular to find such grasp of the subject, such power of harmonization, except where there has been long and thorough study and instruction; here I can give almost unlimited praise.' I told him my question was (for I thought I would take a high standard at once) not, had I talent enough to make music a mere pleasure to myself and my friends ? but had I enough to make it worth while to devote my- self to nuisic as a serious thing, as a life work ? Was there promise enough to make it an advisable investment of I IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // ^< A J K, 1.0 I.I IAS m litj& us |2j8 1 2.5 1^ 12.2 2.0 14.0 L25 i 1.4 ^ !IIIJ4 P; 71 V '/ /. / ■ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. U5S0 (716)873-4503 \ 4 •s^ <^ ^- V ^o^ T 6^ ^ (i. Ml illl ill .» i! 4Jlf'' , 1 , ; ■ ! ]' :il ||| : ^ Liiii ik.!i;;ii. 78 MEMORIALS Of F. R. II. my life, in case I wislied to do so ? He said : "Sincerely and unhesitatingly I can say that you have.^^ I remarked how much I should like to study at Cologne, and under himself. He said he should like to have the training of me ; but, if distance were a difficulty, there were reliable men in London, and he would recommend his friend Macfarren. But I was to go to no second-rate man, that would be simply no use to me; I could only gain the polish and " form" which my work wanted, from some one really first-rate. He recommended me a book on harmony (which I procured in Cologne), and then wrote a few lines to papa, saying he had found a good deal of musical talent in my compositions, and that " but a short time would be sufficient to place me in a state to give a good form to the musical ideas with which I was gifted." I did not expect all this ; and though I shall not do anything at present, it is pleasant to know I have a talent, which I may some day develop to some pur- pose, for I never quite believed what Dr. Marshall said about it, and I thought, if I had the talent he said I had, I should y^^/ cleverer, somehow, than I do. Papa is vexed because when Hiller asked " Spielen sie gut ? " (do you play well?) I replied simply "No, not well," because I thought he would judge by a professional standard. Papa says I ought to have then offered to play one of my things, but I had not the pluck or the presence of mind. ... I supposed you would like to hear all about Hiller, else it seems conceited to have written so much. Now for the home journey to Lille and a pleasant visit to Mons. and Madame V 's. Their country house is about a mile out of the town. ... It was MUSICAL MEMOR V. 79 pleasant to meet old friends, and it is quite fascinating to get, also, a spice of fresh characters and life. Next morn- ing Mons. V. took me about the lower rooms, and gave me an amusing description of Lille life. He is a sort of chieftain of the clan, which consists of about 270 nephews and nieces, and their childrei:. He keeps them all in order. " On a grand peur de mon oncle Emile," says he ; " if I see what I do not like I lecture them de maniere qu'on s'en souviendra." But, on the other hand, " mon oncle Emile " is rich, and can be very gracious, and is worth keeping on good terms with. Every Sunday there are thirty-eight who " have the right " to dine with him, and every Wednesday evening he receives a wider circle in a large gakric, glass above and all round, like an immense enclosed verandah, so pretty with creepers and fancy plants all about. It overlooks his orangery and greenhouses, ornamental water with two bridges, pretty trees, a most charming view altogether. . . . Such a good crossing from Calais ; the sea quite glassy ! I leaned over the side and watched " the foam and curl of the water behind the paddles, and wrote verses [" Travelling Thoughts "] in my account book. I was able to see the white cliffs of Dover for the first time, and was almost sorry to leave the boat. . . . Your loving sister. It may not be out of place here to mention that such was the strength of her musical memory, that she woiild play through Handel, much of Jkethoven and Mendelssohn, without any notes. A pupil of Beethoven thought her rendering of the m 80 MEMORIALS OF F. R. IT. I \i ■ 1! 1 i;|| i 1 :: ^|i|, ^|if J '■ ^ "li |l ■■ V''' '■ ™(i i ^1 : !, , M " i ' ■ i!;: ,'■ i. ■if " ' 1 ■■' ■ iv ;^i H Moonlight Sonata perfect ; her touch was instinct with soul, as also was her singing. During her stay at Oakhampton her brother-in- law engaged Dr. Wm. Marshall to give her singing lessons ; and she attended the meetings of the Philharmonic Society at Kidderminster, of which he was the conductor. The practice of sacred music was an extreme gratification to her, and she soon became a valued solo singer. Her rendering of Mendelssohn's " Woe unto them," " But the Lord is mindful of His own," are remembered as peculiarly effective, though it was in Handel's music that she more particularly delighted. The ease witl\ which Frances constantly versi- fied famil}^ events is shown in the following lines, written when Mr. and Mrs. Shaw left Ireland, for their English home at Winterdyne. WELCOME TO WINTERDYNE. {For Decetnber i/[th J i2>66.) Francie and Willie, welcome to you ! Alfred and Alice, welcome too ! To an English home and English love Welcome each little Irish dove : Never again we hope to be Kept apart by an angry sea. A thousand welcomes, O darlings mine, When we see you at \Vinterdyne. ^ '^-'ilte, '* WELCOME TO WINTER DYNE I'' %\ Welcome all to a warm new nest, Just the place for our doves to rest, Through the oaks and beeches looking down On the winding valley and quaint old town, Where ivy green on the red rock grows, And silvery Severn swiftly flows, With an extra sparkle and glitter and shine > Under the woods of Winterdyne. On a quiet evening in lovely spring. In the tall old elms the nightingales sing ; Under the forest in twilight grey I have heard them more than a mile away, Sweeter and louder and far more clear Than any thrush you ever did hear ; Perhaps when the evenings grow long and fine They will sing to you in Winterdyne. Little to sadden, and nothing to fear; Priest, and Fenian, never come here ; Only the sound of the Protestant bells Up from the valley pleasantly swells. And a beautiful arch, to church, is made Under the sycamore avenue's shade ; You pass where its arching boughs entwine, . Out of the gates of Winterdyne. Welcome to meuy old England ! And yet We know that old Ireland you will not forget j Many a thought and prayer will fly Over the mountains of Wales, so high, Over the forest and over the sea. To the home which no longer yours must be. But farewells are over, O darlings mine, Now it is Welcome to Winterdyne ! G I spw i i I ' ■^1 1 1 ii 82 MEMORIALS OF F. A". //. I'i i'l' fliH''< ' IS si lia ''I., 'i H| ^U U } i', Her own words will continue the record of her inner life in the year i866. Few things have a more salutary effect upon me than reading secular biographies. For, successful or unsuc- cessful alike, " vanity of vanities " seems the truest characteristic of every life not devoted to the very highest aim. " Queens of Society," " Autobiography of Louis Spohr," and others, have left this feeling strongly upon me, and have been auxiliary in making me wish that my life may be laid out for Him, whose it is by right. Oh, that He may make me a vessel sanctified and meet for the Master's use ! I look at trial and training of every kind in this light, not its effect upon oneself for oneself, but in its gradual fitting of me to do the Master's work. So, in very painful spiritual darkness or conflict, it has already comforted me to think that God might be leading me through strange dark ways, so that I might afterward be His messenger to some of His children in similar distress. My ill health this summer has been very trying to me. I am held back from much I wanted to do in every way, and have had to lay poetizing aside. And yet such open doors seemed set before me. Perhaps this check is sent that I may consecrate what I do more entirely. I have a curious vivid sense, not merely of my verse faculty in general being given me, but also of every separate poem or hymn, nay every line, being given. It is peculiarly pleasant thus to take it as a direct gift, not a matter of effort, but purely involuntarily. . . . I suppose that God's crosses are often made of most unexpected and strange material. Perhaps trial must STORMY PETRELISM. 83 be felt keenly, or it would not be powerful enough as a medicine in the hands of our beloved Healer; and I think it has been a medicine to me latterly. You may wonder that I write thus, when I was so merry with you at L j but, among the best gifts of God to me, I count a certain stormy petrel ism of nature, which seems to enable me to skim any waves when I am not actually under them. I have an elasticity which often makes me wonder at myself, a power of throwing myself into any present interest or enjoyment, though the sorrow is only suspended not removed. But once I seemed permitted to suffer mentally in an unmitigated sort of way, whicli 1 never knew before. Perhaps to teach me how to feel for others who have not that stormy petrelism which bears me through most things. For that forsook me utterly, and I felt crushed and forsaken of all or any help or cheer, to an extent I never felt before. I wish I rejoiced more, not only on my own account, but if I may so say, on His, for surely I should praise Him more by both lip and life. Mine has been such a shady Christian life, yet " He led them forth by the right way " must somehow be true here, though I don't see how. I ought to make one exception ; I have learned a real sympathy with others walking in darkness, and some- times it has seemed to help me to help them. I send you this text, Matthew xxv. 40, and I want you to let it brighten all your work ; but one can never come to the end of the graciousness of it. Some months ago, I called on one of my dear old women in Worcester. She talker of the King ; and, coming away, 1 felt impelled to give her something which I had not I ' 84 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H. w :ii '1 \, i intended lor her, and knew I could not afford without a trifling self-denial. She took it silently, paused, and then said, with a simple sweet solemnity, "Inasmuch !" Well, ever since I have revelled in that wonderful " Inas- much." Only think of His really considering all our poor little services as done unto Him ! And this is quite apart from what we consider success or results. It is not only spiritual ministrations, but all other little kind- nesses. How one would have liked to have been one of the women who ministered unto Him, but it is so marvellously gracious of Him to give you and me, to wit, opportunities of doing what He considers the same thing. «... You may think it strange, but I have long almost shrunk from going to the sacrament, dreading the being sent empty away. Oh, if He would but grant me my request just once— that I might " taste and see !" Communion Sundays are so often my saddest days ; great tension of feeling, longing unsatisfied desire, and sorrowful pleading, followed by the reaction of miserable apathy. It is only one or two who know about my clouds, though many know what I believe about sunshine. , . . Sunday is over. " Sent empty away." Just empty y no other word seems to express it; not full of anything. I would rather even have been full of distress than- thus empty. Not one sweet verse or comforting thought seemed given me. All the beautiful service seemed to pass through the ear and never reach my heart. Oh, if He would only show me " wherefore He contendeth with me." It has brought me to the terrible old feeling, " how can I be one of His sheep if I never hear the Shepherd's voice, if He never meets me where He meets others ? " iiiiiiSi I: .:■ EXTRACTS: 1867. 8S Her nieces Evelyn and Constance went to school in i^GG-y ; and, in consequence, Frances then left Oakhampton, and always afterwards resided at home. {From F. R. HJs mamiscript papers^ May 1867) It seems as if the Lord had led me into a calmer and more equable frame of mind ; not joy, but peace. And texts light up to me very pleasantly sometimes. Why should I not take for granted all I find in the Bible ? why should I hesitate and tremble over it, as I have been doing for years ? I have been appropriating all the promises with a calm sort of twilight happiness, waiting for a clearer light to show me their full beauty and value. It does seem to me that " free grace " does not mean there is nothing on our side. We may phrase it "coming," "accepting," "believing," "touching the hem " ; but there is something which these words repre- sent, which is necessary to salvation; and then comes the question, have / this condition ? Yet as soon as / in any form comes in, there is shadow upon the light. Still, this shadow need not fall when the eye is fixed upon Christ as the Substitute, the Lamb slain ; then all is clear. But it is in reading, when one's heart leaps at some precious promise made to the children of God, that a cold check comes, " am / one of them ? what is my title?" Answer, "Ye are all the children of God by faith in Jesus Christ." Have I faith ? Once introduce that /, and you get bewildered between failh and feeling. r^ w 86 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. n :li;i i Mt When I go on and grapple with the difficulty, it comes to this. As far is I know, I have come to Jesus, not once but many times. I have knelt, and literally prostrated myself before Him, and told Him all, that I have no other hope but what His written word says He (lid and said, that I know it is true, that the salvation it tells of is just la/iat I want and all I want, and that my heart goes out to it, and that I do accept it ; that I do not fully grasp it, but I cling to it ; that I want to be His only and entirely, now and for ever. [The last entry.) I have been so happy lately, and the words ** Thou hast put gladness in my heart " I can use, as true of my own casej especially as to one point, I am stire now (and I never was before) that I do love God. I love Him distinctly, positively ; and I think I have loved Him more and longer than I thought, only I dared not own it to myself. Oh that I loved Him more and more ! How I abhor myself for having loved, for loving, so little. In the autumn of 1867 she enjoyed a visit to the lakes with her former schoolfellow, J. H. E., and J. T., a charming poetess. Frances writes : *' I had every possible variety of effects, from grey lake mists and rain to silver and gold, and rosy transparent purple and soft dreamy hazes, and marvellous clearness and veilings and unveil- ings, and everything that is lovely except snow.", Vs. . f iiili&iiiiiijii. YOUNG 'VOMEirs CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION. 87 {F. R. II. to Miss Clara Gcdgc, September 1867.) . . . I thank you very specially for having asked me to join the Young Women's Christian Association. On my side it will be an extra strong link ; because, whatever help and blessing for myself and others I may find through it, I shall not forget that I owe my membership to you. I have written the date of my joining in the cover of my Bible, as a continual reminder (if any could be needed) of such a privilege ; and under it the names of all whom I know to be members, yours of course standing first. How little we know each other's need ! How often the text we want to send must be a bow drawn at a venture! Yet again, how alike are our needs, and how pleasant to know that we may ask Him, to whom each heart is open, to guide us to choose the right gem from the precious mine of His word ! I do not feel inclined to send you anythino^ out of the way to-day, dear Clara, but just one of the dear old rock-texts, which are always something to stand upon, and this one especially so for your birthday : "H*^ hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." For this embraces all our years ; if true at all, it has been so all along, even when we felt far off. He was near when we felt alone ; He was surely, though hidden, beside us. . . . The date on the Y. W. C. A. card of member- ship is September 23, 1867; No. 2 181. This Association proved a lifelong rivet ; and manifold were her efforts, to link others in its helpful fellowship. • I ^iHtM,,r: 88 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. i \ It is impossible to give even an idea of her efforts for many societies. Just at this time, she was wishful to give lessons in singing, for the Church Missionary Society ; and her steady work in collecting for it never ceased. The Jews', the Church Pastoral-Aid, and the Bible Society were alike valued. Skilfully did she induce others to take an interest in them ; and in the February of her last winter (1879), one bitter night, she headed a number of Welsh neighbours and lads to go, for the first time in their lives, to a Bible Society meeting at the Mumbles. We again give some extracts from her letters. Pembridge Crescent, November 1867. . , . Among other pleasures in London, I have made acquaintance with the authoress of " Doing and Sufifering." She gave me a good deal of practical advice about my schemes for milliners' classes. I want very much to give singing lessons for the Church Missionary Society, and German lessons for the Irish Society ; this would be clear gain, and also give me opportunities for influence among the class which interest me so much. . . . I must tell you about the east window in Mr. Bickersteth's church at Hampstead. Nothing in the window line ever made such an impression upon me. It is all filled in with simple arabesque and diaper work, merely quiet harmonious colour, nothing to arrest the eye, except the centre light, and in that is a white scroll on a blue ground, with just the words in crimson and A sr.vG/ya lesson. 89 gold letters, "Till He come." It sent quite a thrill through me. It is so exactly what one would like to look up to from the holy table. ... I must send you " In whom we have the forgiveness of sins," because I have just had a glimpse of the beauty and power of it, and I like best to send you what has been given me. Of course I lost it again; but, in praying for forgiveness, and sorrowfully enough, as usual, I remembered your ■ quotation from Adelaide Newton, and then this flashed upon me, ** /// whom — lue havc^* and was so satisfactory. Perhai)s you don't feel the utter need of it that I do, but still I know it is precious truth for every one. GoDSTONE, December 1867. Guess my birthday treat ? To the Zoological Gardens. I don't know anything I would rather see in London. I am a perfect baby as to animals ! I managed to get three more singing lessons, though I was never in voice, and had a bad cold. Signor Randegger says I have many mechanical difficulties to overcome, but gives me credit for " talent, taste, feeling, and brains." I might improve if under him for a year, and he consoled me by saying " I might always calculate on expressive singing." His first lesson was a lecture on the formation of the throat and production of sound, which he told me to write out as an abstract. I was very poorly in bed the next day ; so, having nothing to do, it occurred to me to rhyme it. Afterwards I was afraid lest he might be touchy and think I was making game of it. However it was quite the other way, and he asked for a copy to show his pupils. ^] i i t t 1 1 90 MEMORIALS OF R R. II. 'r MY SINGING LESSON. {Abstract.) Here beginneth, — Chapter the first of a series, To be followed by manifold notes and queries; So novel the queries, so trying the notes, I think I must have the queerest of throats, And most notable dulness, or else long ago The Signor had given up teaching, I trow. I wonder i^ ever before he has taught A pupil who can't do a thing as she ought ! The voice has machinery (now to be serious), Invisible, delicate, strange, and mysterious. A wonderful organ-pipe firstly we trace, Which is small in a tenor and wide in a bass : Below an ^olian harp is provided. Through whose fairy-Hke fibres the air will be guided. Above is an orifice, larger or small, As the singer desires to rise or to fall ; Expand and depress it, to deepen your roar, But raise and contract it, when high you would soar, Alas for the player, the pipes, and the keys, If the bellows give cut an inadequate breeze 1 So this is the method of getting up steam, The one motive power for song or for scream. Slowly and deeply, and just like a sigh. Fill the whole chest with a mighty supply ; Through the mouth only, and not through the nose ; And the lungs must condense it ere farther it goes. (How to condense it I really don't know. And very much hope the next lesson will show.) Then, forced from each side, through the larynx it comes, And reaches the region of molars and gums, •? THE NEW HOME, 91 And half of the sound will be ruined or lost If by any impediment here it is crossed. On the soft of the palate beware lest it strike, The effect would be such as your ear would not like. And arch not the tongue, or the terrified note Will straightway be driven back into the throat. Look well to your trigger, nor hasten to pull it, Once hear the report and you've done with your bullet. In the feminine voice there are registers three. Which uj^per, and middle, and lower must be ; And each has a sounding-board all of its own, The chest, lips, and head, to reverberate tone. But in cavities nasal it never must ring, Or no one is likely to wish you to sing. And if on this subject you waver in doubt, By listening and feeling the truth will come out. The lips, by-the-bye, will have plenty to do In forming the vowels Italian and true ; Eschewing the English, uncertain and hideous, With an and a u that are simply amphibious. In flexible freedom let both work together, And the under one must not be stiffened like leather. Here endeth the substance of what I remember, Indited tliis twenty- sixth day of November. The following extracts will illustrate my dear sister's life at this time. Pyrmont Villa, Leamington, December 27, 1867. . . . . My first note in my new room in our new home must be to you. It is solemn to think of what I may go through in this room : probably many happy 'i ; 92 MEMORIALS OF R R. li. \ 'f W U if: I il! i; ill #iij III! ;i /I Hi ::i hours, certainly many sorrowful ones. In all human probability it will be my room until the great sorrow falls which has already often seemed imminent, unless I die before my precious father. I have just been praying words from my own mamma's lips, when I was a little girl, " Prepare me for all that Thou art preparing for me." Yet, spite of these thoughts, I have not been at all in a good frame of mind ; oh, how often hidden evil is brought to light by some unexpected Ithuriel touch. Every one calls me sweet tempered ; but oh, I have been so ruffled two or three times, that I wonder and grieve at myself. I always suffer for being naughty ; 1 lose all enjoyment in prayer directly. " Oh, for a heart that never sins ! " January i8th, 1868, after describing her room: Can you fancy me there ? The only drawback is that, being at the top of the house, it will not be available for classes. I do wish all good carpets and furniture were at the bottom of the sea ! They are among the devices to hinder usefulness. I have done nothing about a class yet, and do hope I shall not be wilful in choosing for myself ! . . . I never saw such a place as Leaming- ton, every hole and corner seems dusted out ! Such a number of earnest loving workers ; some are wonderful, I am not worthy to sit at their feet. {To E, C) Leamington, February 22, 1868. " Grace unto you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." I send for your birthday the re: alt of a year's daily and loving thought for you [a ''HIDDEN leaves:' 93 Bible marked]. It is the worse for wear, having been with me in boxes, bags, and pockets. I have marked wliat struck me as containing food, light, and teaching of some sort. I do hope you will find my markings a help and pleasure, because not one chapter has been read without prayer for the Holy Spirit's teaching. . . . Can you not take Psalm xxiii. 6 as a birthday text ? only, the goodness and mercy are following all the days, even when their bright outline is lost in the shadow of closely pressing trials, and sometimes in our own shadow. . . . I am getting on with my book, and might finish it in a week or two by putting on steam ; but I am reso- lutely not hurrying it. . , . February, 1868. . . , I have not had a single po^m come to me for some time, till last night, when one shot into my mind. All my best have come in that way, Minerva fashion, full grown. It is so curious, one minute I have not an idea of writing anything, the next I have a poem ; it is mine, I see it all, except laying out rhymes and metre, which is then easy work ! I rarely write anything which has not come thus. " Hidden Leaves " is the title ; I wonder how you would work it out after this beginning : ** Oh the hidden leaves of life, Closely folded in the breast ! " The illness and death of her niece, Evelyn Emily Crane, was deeply felt. We may not give full details ; but it was her Aunt Frances who had led her to Christ some thrtt ^cars before, and her / ^ I a fi'^ 94 AfEMORIALS OF F. R. ff. dying message confirmed the reality of her joyful trust in the Lord Jesus. April 14, 1868. Dearest Maria, — That is indeed a precious message. The tension of tliis last week has been terrible. I think it so excessively kind of you to tell me all you do. I hunger for it ; you will understand how. My Evelyn's ring! * This is kind ! I shall always wear it. Once she wanted to wear mine. I have had most beautiful and comforting notes from J. H. E. and many others. The Hebrew word J. H. S. sent me pleased me much. I have had such sympathy from my new friends here. Oh, Marie dear, it is answer to prayer indeed. Don't think me selfish in letting out a little to you, or that I do not intensely feel for t/iem because I feel so much myself. I wrote some verses Saturday evening (which I intended no one to see), *' Dying? Evelyn, darling ! Dying? can it be?"t but will send them you ; and, if you think they would be more pleasure than pain, show them poor . The me- morial card made me realize it at last. Last night I sat long with it before me, witli such an utter flood of love for that child in my heart. It rose and rose, and the sorrow and sense of loss with it, and how I last saw her, in all her graceful beauty. Then, at last, came a sudden glimpse, almost a vision, of seeing her again and having such a full and loving welcome from her above ! . . . Your loving sister. * See ** The Two Rings," in ** Under the Surface," page 221. t See " Under His Shadow," page i^. \^ d ■ i : «' MAR VELLOUS LOVINGKINDNESS. " 95 Leamington, May 1868. . . . I am not ill, but overdone and tired. A nice letter even to you is an impossibility. This has been trial, but as yet I see no " nevertheless afterwards." I have been falling back on *' O Lord, Thou knowest." . . . I only send you two words j but they are, and will be seen to be, the true "theme" or "subject," speaking musically, carried through all the majors and minol:s of life : "marvellous lovingkindness." . . . {To E. C.) Leamington, Feoniary. Another birthday ! so I send you another note of birth- day love ; " Surely my judgment is with the Lord, and my work with my God." That word " work " seems to include and imply " rcivai-d of work," so the whole thing is with your God ; it is as if you carry home your daily portion of work to Him, and He lays it up safe with what preceded it; and some day He will bring it out all in one beautiful completed piece, with many finishings and beautify ings beyond what your hand wrought ; and His "Well done!" will be your reward, whetlier it be delayed till He adds " Enter tliou " or not. At last I have had my longed for " pause in life," but as yet I am not well enough to enjoy it. Maria will tell you how wretchedly ill I have been May Wi. I only heard of your accident last night. My dear old text flashed upon me the instant I heard of it, "Meet for the Master's use"; surely it is for that He has taken His vessel away from active use, that it may be made more meet. I feel so disposed to look out 1 m '. ■ 1 ll : !: i' 1 1 ; ■ 'V (; 1 1 .ill 1 w 'i* 3 ' I' 1 ■ n^m- m-: III ^1: 96 ''•^ MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. for much marked blessing upon you and your work when He permits you to resume it. Let me give you another, " He will be very gracious unto thee at the voice of thy cry." That has comforted me often, more than any piomise of answer; it includes answers and a great deal more besides ; it tells us what He is towards us, and that is more than what He will do. And the "cry" is not long, connected, thoughtful prayers; a cry is just an umuorded dart upwards of the heart, 1 and al //lat "voice " He will be very gracious. What a / smi/e there is in these words ! . . . In May 1869 our brother-in-law, Mr. Crane, took Frances, with his wife and eldest daughter Miriam, to Switzerland, by the Rhine route to Heidelberg, Freiburg, Basle and Schaffhausen. Her neatly kept journal has photographs of the several places visited, and the Alpine flowers she dried for its pages. The Rhine Falls, /tme ()th. It was fascinating to look down at the wild rapids, sheets of glass-like transparency, flowing swiftly over rock tables, then a sudden precipice below water, which might go down to any depth, only that you are not looking down into darkness, but into emerald and snow mingled and transfused marvellously. The rocks be- neath are not a smooth ledge ; thus the water is thrown out into a chaos ot magnificent curves and leaps, infinitely more beautiful than any single chute could be. You look up, and see masses of bright water hurled ever- lastingly irresistibly down, down, down with a sort oi SNOW MOUNTAINS. 97 exuberance of the joy of utter strength ; you look across, and see shattered diamonds by millions leaping and glittering in the sunshine ; you look down, and it is a tremendous wrestling and overcoming of flood upon flood, all the more weirdly grand that it is half hidden in the clouds of spray. Every drop is so full of light that the eye is soon dazzled and weary : oh if one were only all spirit ! The next day it was great luxury to sit on the terrace overlooking the falls. I jotted some verses (" He hath spoken in the darkness "),* which have been haunting me for two or three days. The text was sent nie lately, " What I tell you in darkness that speak ye in light." I never noticed it before ; how strange it is what treasures we miss every time we read His word ! Berne, June 12th. At last ! Miriam crept quietly to the window about 5 a.m., and I woke as she passed. "Anything to see?" "Oh yes, I really do beHeve I see them!" Of course I was up in a second. The sun had risen above the thick mist, and away in the south east were the weird giant outlines of the Bernese Oberland mountains bending towards the sun, as if they had been our mighty guardian spirits all night, and were resigning their charge ere they flew away into farther light. The very mist was a folding of wings about their feet, and a veiling of what might be angel brows, quiet and serene. It is no use laughing at " fancies " ; wait till you have seen what we did from the roof of the Berner Hof ! So now the dream of all my life is realized, and I * See "Under the Surface," page 161. \ «. \ \. 'T-VTT m \' I m H ■ ' 4f h i 98 MEMORIALS OF F. R. 11. have seen snow mountains ! When I was quite a little child of eight years old I used to reverie about them, and when I heard the name of the snow-covered Sierra de la Summa Paz (perfect peace) the idea was completed ; and 1 thenceforth always thought of eternal snow and perfect peace together, and longed to see the one and drink in the other. And I am uot disappointed. They are just as pure, and bright, and peace-suggestive as ever I dreamt them. It may be rather in the style of the old women who invariably say " It 's just like heaven," when they get a tolerably comfortable tea-meeting ; but really I never saw anything material and earthly which so suggested the ethereal and heavenly, which so seemed to lead up to the unseen, to be the very steps of the Throne; and one could better fancy them to be the visible founda- tions of the invisible celestial city, bearing some wonder- ful relation to its transparent gold and crystal sea, than only snow and granite, rising out of this same every- day earth we are treading, dusty and stony ! . . . In the autumn of this year Frances went to Scotland, and extremely enjoyed the Highland scenery ; at the same time visiting various friends. ! IN I ii m n f ill ik ,l,,^ CHAPTER VII. (1870— 1871.) A father's holy teaching<^ — Tcaceful death — "Yet speaketh" — " Songs of Grace and Glory " — How harmony was learnt — Letter on tunes in *' Havcrt^al's Psalmody" — The '* hush of praise "' — Sympathy — The great transition — The most enjoyable trip to S\yitzerland — A real Alpine dawn — The Vaudois chaplain — Vivis on the Col de la Seigne — Christ- mas Day — Waiting, not working. MANY pictures could be drawn of Frances' home life at Leamington. Especially did she value the sympathy of her dear father in all her studies. With him she delighted to talk out hard questions ; and his classical knowledge, his poetic and musical skill, settled many a point. She would rush down with her new poems or thoughts, awaiting his criticisms. And very charming was it to hear her lively coaxing that he would "just sing," as she accompanied his sacred songs ; while at other times I have seen her absorbed with his improvised melodies, fugues and intricate progressions, thrilling yet passing. His holy and consistent examplef ever holding forth the word of life and sound doctrine, had been ^ •'••^' too MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. as a guiding light on his child's path ; of this Frances writes in " Yet Speaketh." " Deep teachings from the Word he held so dear, Things new and old in that great treasure found, A valiant cry, a witness strong and clear, A trumpet with no dull uncertain sound j These shall not die, but live ; his rich bequest To that beloved Church whose servant is at rest.*' W ' If IP ill 1^ |: *' I Another daughter describes him very truthfully; and her lines are also given.* "^ A Tribute to my Father^ on his Birthday ^ 1866. While we reckon up thy years, Balancing our hopes and fears, Praise we our Redeemer's grace Shining on thy pilgrim race. He hath given thee work to do, And the task to suffer too. He hath given thee art to twine Music-chords with song sublime, Holy chant and choral hymn, Praise-notes fit for seraphim ; Tuneful voice and ready pen Charm and teach the souls of menj And thy God hath given thee skill. Guiding youth to do His willj; And, as pastor in His fold, Christ's salvation to uphold. Now a time for rest is thine In the land of Beulah's shine, I iiiii CM OUR FA THER'S DEA TH. lOI Where the angels come and go, Bringing help and hope, and low Sweet echoes of the heavenly chime, Cheering on the flight of time. Oh may health and peace be given, Till the ties of earth be riven, And this birthday happy be With the light of heaven on Thee I J. Miriam Crane. The shadow of death fell swiftly and stealthily on our dear father's path. The care of his devoted wife had, doubtless, warded off many ar* attack of serious illness. On Easter Even, 1870, he was unusually well and had walked out during the day. Later on he sat down to his harmonium, playing and singing the tune composed by him m the morning.* He rose early, as usual, on Easter Day ; but apoplexy ensued ; and, after forty-eight hours of unconsciousness, he passed away. " Yet speaketh ! " there was no last word of love, So suddenly on us the sorrow fell ; His bright translation to the home above Was clouded with no shadow of farewell ; His last Lent evening closed with praise and prayer, And then be^jan the songs of endless Easter there." In Astley churchyard, under the fir tree (the place which he had chosen years before), he rests • No. 163 in '* Ilavergal's Psahnody." I II 'N:< l« 1^ i V ■ 1 , ; ) 1 '.' '• ' I iiiliifeiik. . ', loa MEMORIALS OF F, R. If. " till that day." The epitaph on the white marble tomb is as follows. The Rev. William Henry Havergal, M.A., Vicar of Sharcsiiill and Hon. Canon of Worcester Cathedral. Died at Leamington, 19th April, 1870, aged 77. Curate 7, and Rector 13 years, of this parish, 1822 to 1843. "A faithful minister in the Lord" (Eph. vi. 21). Memorial tablets were also placed in Worcester Cathedral, St. Nicholas and Shareshill Churches. Some weeks after, Frances wrote to Elizabeth Clay : I was terribly upset let night, and yet not all sadness; one of papa's chants was gloriously sung at the West- minster Abbey evening service ; such a scene and such music! . . . "I know their sorrows" (Exod. iii. 7) is full of intensest comfort when it ts needed ; it is the climax in it which has so much struck me as corre- sponding to three degrees of sorrow which I suppose all know ; anyhow, you do and I do. That sorrow which can be sem is the lightest form really, however apparently heavy ; then there is that which is not seen, secret sorrows which yet can be put into words, and can be told to near friends as well as be poured out to God ; but there are sorrows beyond these, such as are fiever told, and cannot be put into words, and may only be wordlessly laid before God : these are the deepest. Now comes the supply for each : " I have seen " that which is patent and external ; " I have heard their cry" which is the expression of th is, and of as much of the external as is expressible ; but this would not go deep enough, •• //.•/ VEKCAVS PSA L MOD Y. »"3 SO God adds, " I knoio their sorrows," down to very depths of all, those which no eye sees or car over heard. Is it not a beaiiliful climax? It was soon after her father's death that my sister undertook the preparation for the press of " Ilavergal's Psalmody," which afterwards was largely used in connection with the Rev. C. B. Sncpp's Hymnal, " Songs of Grace and Glory," of which full details will be found in the Appendix. The preparation for the work of harmonizing she alludes to in a letter to her friend Mary C. in 1866. How I sliould like to teach you harmony ! I do beliove I could make it lucid ; you can't think what exquisite symmetry there is in chords and intervals, so that I always feel, as well as believe, that man by no means invented harmony, but only found out God's beautiful arrangements in it. As for my own composi- tions, I am (at some cost of resolution) abstaining en- tirely. Hiller, of Cologne, recommended me an excellent Look, which I got, and determined to write no more till I had gone through it ; this I am steadily doing, and enjoy writing the exercises. I suppose, after Hiller's pro- fessional opinion, it would be affectation to say I had no talent, and I certainly do feel I have at least a sort of inherited instinct for seeing into harmonies. The way I studied harmony was rather unique ; some years ago (at home) I kept a treatise on harmony in my bedroom, read as much as I could conveniently grasp the last thing, and then worked out the exercises in my head before go^ng to sleep. This I did for several weeks, :' i:l;iJ lit HVW I i i] if'^ • tn Bl 1': I \ h ■ , i 1, V 1 1 i^''»iii : ■* 104 MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. and suppose I must have taken it in very comfortably under this system, inasmuch as I had some work to persuade Hiller that I had gone through no "academical course ! " Frances writes (1870) of difficulties in the work : I was so struck this morning with " Thou art the Helper of the fatherless," — the very first time one of those special orphan promises has come home to me. I had been puzzling over a tune which papa would have decided about in a minute, and missed hioi so much, when suddenly this verse flashed upon me brightly. I think that even in music the Lord is my helper novy ; much more in other things. When composing some tunes at this time, I selected six about which I felt doubtful, and sent them to Sir Frederic Ousel ey, askmg him to say if they were all right. This he most kindly did; to my great delight he endorsed them every one, and praised them too. Very prayerfully did she write several hymns for " Songs of Grace and Glory"; and, when she heard from time to time of their being blessed, she wrote in answer to a friend's communication : It does seem wonderful that God should so use and bless my hymns ; and yet it really does seem as if the seal of His own blessing were set upon them, for so many testimonies have reached me. Writing is praying with me, for I never seem to write even a verse by myself, and feel like a little child writing; you know a child would look up at every sentence and say " And WRITim FOR THE CHEAT rn«.n what shall I say next?" ThT^- that at every line He would ,V '"'' '"''"' ^ ''° '' ^ «k -d power, but a>so iTy r/e^; .r "'^ '"""^"'^ Very often I have a most 1, ""^ ''^■^"'«- sciousness of direct answer Z ""^ ''"PP^ ^°"- Psalmody" I thought you ^ Z°V " ^^^''^'^'^ ■'now a net,e more "abour^yS f'.: '"'"'''"' '° accept a " Memorial" of him *"' ^° '"" y°" Z/Ura/ '• singing for Tesns'" ;, » most personal and direct comn • "*' ^°"'^^°^, the beloved Master; and mv oZT°" ^ ''°'<^ fr*"" ">/ "ost curious, and have^LTX";^' '"t " ^" °^'» ■nmylutle poem "Singing for lit. - '.'^ ' '^"'^"'"^ experience. ... ^ ^ °' J^"'^ 's from personal I was so overwhehnprf «« c j -y hrn,„s touchingi;l°; at" p'r ' ^^ '"- <>■' before realised the high ;riv lege of ^ V " ' "^^^' ~ great congregation"; especiaUy 6„ '.T"""^ '"'^ "'he for thee" to papa's tune " Baca ""t'h. J^"' "^^ "''^ and 921 in "s. G. G." ' ° ^ers were 120 (Tb Margaret W . ) .■ • • ^^'t night they sane "Tr. II- s>ns was slain," to my little ,une-' T ?™ ^^° ^°' °« 'l-liciously, and choLnd ^ ^'"P^"'^"' « went so ">e Alleluias so brightll that ^f "^h""; "•■"'^ ^^^ °-" •■•s it never did before what '"f "^'"'^ ^^'■"^ "''er me, contributed a bit o^muri fo ^""^^ " '^ "«" 'o have S°-lness. I , J„„ idea " Trvnl7 /""' '" "''^ S^^^' tune before! . . ^ '^P''osa " was such a pretty About coming 'to hear r see H. . r . ' ^ *«« "lat I shall glorify I' il WW H4 it . f i : ',:i iilii; !i ■«l :;• io6 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. Him most by staying away. Fruits oS. my profession are looked for, and what will be looked for in this case is submission to known wishes and the yielding up of my own. It is sure to be all right. I don't think He will let me lose the blessing and the help I had looked for in coming, . . , One result of her own trials was sympathy with others, beautifully expressed in the following letter. Leamington, December lo, 1870. Dear, dear Mrs. Snepp, — What can one do but just weep with you ! /can only ^^uess what this sorrow is. Only, I know it must be the greatest, except one, which could come to you. That dear little beautiful thing ! He looked so sweet and happy when I saw him at the station : no baby face ever haunted me as, somehow, his did. If you could only see him now, how beautiful he must be now that he has seen Jesus and shines in the light of God. It is even more wonderful to think of that great transition for a baby than for a grown person ; one cannot imagine the sudden expansion into such knowledge and conscious joy. I was looking back, early this morning, upon long memories of soul trials, years of groping and stumbling and longing, sinning and sorrowing, of heart weariness and faintness, temptation and failure; all these things which I sujDpose every Christian must pass through, more or less, at some stage or other on the way home ; and the first distinct thought which came through the surprise and sorrow at the sad news was, " that dear litde redeemed one is spared all this, taken home without any of these MOST ENJOYABLE SWISS TOUR. 107 roughest roughnesses of the way ; he will never fear or doubt or sin, never grieve the Saviour" Is it not tlie very best and kindest thing that tender Saviour could do for him ? Only it is not what you meant when you prayed that he might be His own. But better, for he is 7C'//// Ilim at once and for ever, and waiting for you to come home too. I am only writing all this because my heart is full, and must pour out a little. I know we can't comfort, only Jesus can ; and I shall go and plead long and intensely for this as soon as I have closed my letter. He must be specially " touched '" in such a sorrow, for He knows by actual experience what human love is. Three such great sorrows in one year ! how specially He must be watching you in such a furnace ! . . . Yours, with deepest sympathy and love. In June of 1871 Frances and her friend Eliza- beth Clay spent some weeks in Switzerland ; with no encumbering luggage, just carpet bags and knapsacks, they often diverged from beaten routes. Frances always spoke of this as the most enjoyable of all her Swiss tours. Walking up the Reuss valley she writes from Geschenen : Hurrah ! we are in a most exhilarated state of mind, just like children ; and, except a little undercurrent of general thanksgiving we don't feel solemn at all, and have been in the wildest spirits. From Andermatt we took the diligence to the Furca pass It is so early that, in some places, the road lay between walls of snow. We were obliged to take a guide up the Furca horn, as there is no vestige of a track ; the 51 f ■i ■::*}* si, m'' i. io8 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H. snow slopes were most entertaining to cross, and I en- joyed the scramble excessively. Going up the Aeggischhorn (she continues), an Alpine Clubbist with the guide Fischer was before us, and he afterwards told our guide, Alexander, that he watched us from above, and that I " went up like a chamois ! " and he was quite astonished how quickly I got up a difficult climb ; but I always had an instinct I should find myself a rather extra good climber. The glissad s down are simply delicious. Bel Ai-p, July 8. To-day has been the best of all. We secured Anton Walden for the Sparrenhorn, which is nearly 10,000 feet. Another lady, Miss Anstey, joined. Coffee at 3.30, started before 4 a.m. Now I have seen it at last, a real Alpine dawn and sunrise to perfection ! When we came out we saw the "daffodil sky," which Tyndall describes, in the east a calm glory of expectant light as if something positively celestial must come next, instead of merely the usual sun. In the south west the grand mountains stood, white and perfectly clear, as if they might be waiting for the resurrection, with the moon shining pale and radiant over them, the deep Rhone valley dark and grave-like in contrast below. As we got higher, the first rose flush struck the Mischabel and Weisshorn, and Monte Leon came to lilc too ; it was real rose-fire, delicate yet intense. The Weisshorn was in its full glory, looking more per- fectly lovely than any earthly thing I ever saw. When the tip of the Matterhorn caught the red light on its evil- looking rocky peak, it was just like a volcano and looked rather awful than lovely, giving one the idea of an evil THE VAUDOIS CHAPLAIN. 109 angel, impotently wrathful, shrinking away from the serene glory and utter purity of a holy angel, which that Weisshorn at dawn might represent if anything earthly could. The eastern ridges were almost jet, in front of the great golden glow into which the daftbdil sky heightened. By 4.30 a.m. it was all over, and thenceforth we devoted ourselves to getting up the Sparrenhorn. After many other excursions they went down into the Italian valleys. July 28th. CouRMAYEUR. ... I havc been writ- ing in a delicious den, under a rock, cool and shady, a discovery of Elizabeth's. It commands a grand front of Mont Blanc. We had a stiff climb to the shoulder of a mountain whose Courmayeur face is a striking precipice. There is a tolerable path up a gorge, leading to a ride just below the cone of Mont Chetif. From this point we had a face-to-face view of the most precipitous side of Mont Blanc, with the ice fall of the Glacier de Brenva. The summit of Mont Blanc wa^ veiled, but I think that added to the weird sublimity of the view. One evening the English chaplain and Mrs. Phinn asked us to come to tea, to meet Costabel, the Vaudois missionary pastor stationed here. This was very inter- esting ; he is a nice, simple, good man, and told us a great deal about Vaudois work. Costabel is very isolated here (but Mr. Phinn has quite taken him up), for he has only a few poor Christian friends, and never any superior society unless the English find him out. He told us that the fear of death among the people here is awful, and that he is frequently present at the most painful death scenes. During life and health they leave everything to if 1 W^' i ;i ■'i(F 1* : 1 ■ 1 1 1 ^ i \ ii. no MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. the priest, and believe that he will make it all right for them ; and, except complying with certain forms, do not think or trouble themselves about religion at all. Then, when they are dying they get alarmed, and see that this natural shifting of their religion upon another (the priest) will not do ; they lose confidence in him, and have no other 3 they want peace and have none ; they would like to feel assured, but they have no assurance ; and they die in agonies of terror. It was terrible to hear Costabel's description of what he says is the rule as to Romish death beds. " Unto the poor the gospel is preached," and he says it is so here. Only the poor will listen to him, and those in the outlying villages where no priest resides. We find the people here quite different from the Swiss, and not at all so ready to accept Gospels. It is the first place where, on offering any, we have been asked " whether it was a Protestant book "j however they always end by taking them. Mont Blanc is more than ever supreme to me ; it is quite strange what a difference in effect there is between him and Monte Rosa, though this is second in height and only 500 feet lower. Monte Rosa is quite disappointing and unimposing ; and, as there are four other mountains round Zermatt very nearly as high, and seven or eight more not much lower, there is nothing of this imperial supremacy which makes Mont Bk ^ so unmistakable fr'Mn anywhere. I think that, either for strong or weak folk, Courma- yeur is the very best place I know of for making a long stay at ; the walks and excursions are inexhaustible, there are any amount of grand things to do for mount- aineers, and lovely little easy walks, as short as you like, w J'^R'!' / > MO UN TA I NEE RING CIVILITIES. Ill for mere invalids. Valleys and gorges fork and re-fork in all directions. Another advantage is that it lies on a gentle slope some little height above the noisy, foaming Dora, and so one has not the perpetual roar which I always think the greatest drawback to Swiss enjoyment. If the rivers would but go to sleep at night, what a relief it would be ! I certainly have not been so well for years, and except for some wakeful nights I should have done the whole tour without flagging at all. Saturday, 5.30 p.m. Chapiu. We have got off at last ; it was not at all hopeful yesterday, and 1 began the day ratlier anxiously (as I should really have been in a fix if we could not have left till Monday), and there was the clearest, most transparent, dawn sky imaginable; not a cloud ; and a delicious north wind, which is an infal- lible sign of first-rate weather. We got ofl:" exactly at five, in great spirits, as the views must be first-rate on such a morning, and the cool wind would make walking very easy. As we passed our old hotel, we found a caravan of about eighteen mules and nearly as many guides, as all the Italians pensioning there were going up the Col de la Seigne for the day. We hastened on, as we of course did not want to be mixed up, and succeeded in keeping ahead the whole way, five hours, though we were alternately on foot and they all riding, and got to the top just before them. We chose our spot to lunch, and they camped at a little distance with many bows and " Bon api)etits ! " and other small foreign civilities, as they passed us. When we had finished and were moving oft", they shouted to us to stay, and all rose and came to us oft"ering us wine and fruit, and saying they wished to propose a toast ' t * ,1 ■i ) '.i J i: !" I 112 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. and drink with us before we left. It was far too gracefully done to refuse ; so red wine was poured, and all raised a most cordial '* Vive I'Angleterre I " with great enthu- siasm and clinking of glasses, to v^'hich we responded with a " Viva 1' Italia ! " which seemed to please them. Then an old priest said, " Mesdemoiselles, etes vous catholiques ? Viva Roma ! " to which I replied in Italian, " We can at least say, Viva Roma capitate d* Italia/" which response he quite understood and said, *'■ Ah well, ah well, viva Christianity," to which we of course responded con amove. Then two or three more (probably freethinkers, I'm afraid) said, " Oui bien, but no more Popery " ; and two or three similar exclama- tions, at which we were very much astonished, as at least three priests were in the party. Then we were allowed to depart, with no end of hat wavings and good wishes. We were so taken by surprise with the whole thing, and all passed so quickly, and so many rapid exclamations and vivas firing off in French and Italian, that I was quite sorry afterwards that I had not recollected all quite distinctly. It was such a curious little episode, and occurring too at such a superb spot, and close to the cross which marks the boundary and bears on one sido " France " and on the other " Italia." We reached Chapiu at two, having only been eight hours in actual progress, as we stayed nearly an hour on the col, as we hoped it might be possible to put on steam and get over the Col de Bonhomme this afternoon, and thereby be yet able to do Chamounix. But we found that, owing to the great snow, it would take five hours from Chapiu, and that all on foot, as a mule could not go at all ; so we were obliged to give it up, (though feeling quite CHRISTMAS DAY. H3 equal to it,) as the guide said we could not do it before dark, and it would not do to risk that. So we have put up here for Sunday, at a funny little inn, many miles from any village. It has been a glorious day, as clear as crystal, almost too clear, as it rather takes from the sublimity, the sum- mits look so near. We passec' the Lac de Combat, an exquisitely soft-tinted lake, pearly blue (but less intense than Geneva), reflecting a grand and lovely group of snow summits and ridges, more like a fairy fancy than a reality in its unique loveliness. That lake was red in Napoleon's days, and a wretched garrison was kept freezing there four whole winters, guarding the pass at the boundary. The ruins of their rough fortifications are reflected in one corner, a melancholy contrast. The col is 8450 feet high, but the ascent was unusually gradual, and we were as fresh when we got to the top as when we started. But then we had ignominiously descended to having a mule between us : so it was only two hours and a half walking for each. There is no post at all here, but any chance guide or traveller takes letters on to Bourg St. Maurice ! We pass on to Christmas Day of this year, 1871 ; which was spent at Leamington, and in connection with which she writes to her old friend as follows. {To E. C.) . . . Christmas has as much of pain as of joy in it now, more perhaps, and yet one would not blot out the memories which cause the pain. I have found this ::l |4;»: riM'"-r i 114 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. second return home after my dear father's death fully as trying as the first. . . . One or two pet schemes are defeated ; but let me rather dwell on Christmas mercies, and much that can infinitely satisfy one's cravings. Subsequent ill health obliged Frances to give up much pleasant work, and especially the training of the St. Paul's voluntary choir, which had been committed to her. But (she writes) *' when a dis- appointn ent comes in that way it must be His appointment I " i: ■11 {To M. IV.) , , , I am stopped in every attempt at consecutive work. It has for years been special discipline to me, because I am naturally fond of going through with a thing, and have always had a strong yearning for definite settled work. Yet I have never been permitted anything but desultory work ; either ailments or something beyond my own control has always interfered ever since I was about twenty. . . . Margaret, is it that He cannot trust me with any work for Him, even after all these years ? I have been feeling very down, and I hope really humbled ; it seemed rather marked. His not letting me write at all this year ; and, now, taking away all work from me seems another sentence of the same lesson. I feel such a "cumberer," every one doing more and better than myself. Pray for me, that I may really learn aU He is teaching me. . . • LIVING, AXD WRITING. I'5 ( To the same. ) I am always getting surprises at my own stupidity ! Wiiy could not I have seen that lovely trio of texts? This only confirms my strong belief that if I am to write to any good, a great deal of Ihnng must go to a very little writing, and that this is why I have always been held back from writing a tithe of what I wanted to write ; and I see the wisdom of it ! , 'A I'll 1 i CHAPTER VIII. (1872 — 1874.) "The Right Way" — Snowdon— Evenings at Harlech — Jesus our Reality — Switzerland once more — Ascent to the Grands Mulcts — Glissade peril and escape — Active service — Winterdyne — Bright sunshine — Full suj-rondcr — I John i. 7 — Definitive standpoint — Chimes in the night of "Ever, only, all for Thee" — No cheque — Songs, not sighs— How "Golden harps," " Tell it out," etc., came — Wayside enjoyments. IN the summer of 1872 we enjoyed a few weeks' tour together in North Wales, the change being desirable for my dear sister, who immediately recovered her health and buoyancy. She writes from Barmouth, July 6, 1872 : Dear G , Surely " The Right Way " will be the shining inscription on every Christian's home path at last ; all will be alike in this one thing, however diverse in all else. . . . We have been two nights at Dolgelly ; it is lovely, and so different in « haraeter, that it no more suffers after Switzerland than a forget-me-not beside a rose. . . . My sister has the scent of a Red Indian for good old widow women and people needing consolation. . . . P.S. — Isaiah xlviii. 17 : do suck all the honey out of this full and sweet text. QUIET REST/XC PLACES. 117 (To E. C.) Pen-vguryd, y}//)' 16. , . . It seems very natural to scribble to you, after our Swiss experiences last summer. I leave circulars and generalities to Maria. I see by my little register that I have received above 600 letters between January and July I St. It would be impossible, unless you were with me day by day, to give you a notion of the unaccount- able variety of things that people will persist in writing to me about. ... 1 think Wales will put me out of conceit of Switzer- land ! One gets so very much beauty and enjoyment with so much less expense or fiitigue. This year, too, I had such a craving for rest rather than for exertion, that our plan suits me far better. I intensely enjoyed the feeling of rest and leisure at Harlech, without having to "do" any places next day or next! I am glad you were at the Mildmay Conference. I did so want to go, but dear mother so strongly advised me fio^ that I thought it clear duty to refrain. I think the very thing which would be pleasure and help to you would be a serious spiritual drawback to me, meeting those you know or could speak to. The human element, however delightful, would distract and hinder me from meeting *' Jesus only." How all these differences of need and desire will be overflowed in the glorious assembly above! I do like to think of //lat I prayed that Wales might be my conference, and that I might not miss a blessing ; and in some degree it has been answered, for I have been rather specially happy. I seemed to have arrears of prayer, things I wanted as it were to talk over and talk ii8 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ //. out with God, and especially the three last evenings at Harlech, when I went out alone for the purpose ; I found two or three hours none too long for uninterrupted communion of this kind. I am finishing this at the top of Snowdon ; the ascents are all so easy ; no need of ponies or guides when we can walk twelve to fifteen miles. We shall run down from this the Llanberis side, and camp for a week, half way down, with one of my sister's charming old women. I have had such interesting openings for work the last few weeks, some only beginnings, others I trust real conversions ; I tell my sistcr what I could not write. So He gives us different work to do, but all His work. . . . We must return from Wales to be present at the wedding of my dear niece, Miriam Crane, the end of July. • • • • • • From Moel Siabod we had series of glimpses of the sunny world below, and magnificent veilmgs and un- veilings of Snowdon, soft white wreaths folding and unfolding among the massive heights. In I-,lyn Dinas I saw an effect quite new to me. The slanting sunhght took the ripples at just such an angle that an exquisite gold network, waving and gleaming upon the dark brown stones, was produced, in some places concentrating like a golden web, in others like open trellis work. The harmony of colour, the rich warm brown of the stones with the intense gold, was not a combination we should have struck out. My favourite mountain verse is : '* Unto Thee, O Lord, do we give thanks, for that Thy name is near Thy wondrous works declare." EXTRACTS. 119 Thoughts from various Letters^ i873- " How I should like to be with you now ! it would be so nice to throw one little flower among your thorns. However, I think He ivould send me, impossible as it seems, if really best j so, as I am not sent, I know it is better so." " So your fiery trial is still unextinguished. But what if it be but His beacon light on your upward path ! " " This is bitter desolation for you, so I send you * I will not leave you comfortless.' It was a greater loss than any, which the disciples were to endure, His own personal -presence withdrawn. Can He have changed since He spoke those loving words? What a test of the disciples' faith ! What could make up for this greatest loss of all ? How could He go away, and yet not leave them comfordess ? You are called low to the same sort of trial of faith ; can you not trust the truth and love of the Master who sends it ? And then ' I will come to you.' You know something of hoiv He can 'come,' but do you think you have reached the end of His gracious comings?" " It is a question ^vhether a really thoughtful mind could possibly yield the homage of its entire being to a God whom it could understand and fathom. The instinct of such a mind would revolt from it." " *As for thee, the Lord thy God has not sufTered thee to do so.' What a stepping stone ! We give thanks, often with a tearful doubtful voice, for our spiritual ll • i 1 \\\. f 'm \ 1! '.1.?! ■:\ 120 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. vci^xQxts positive \ but what an almost infinite field there is for mercies negative ! We cannot even imagine all that God has suffered us not to do, not to be." ** . . . Did you ever hear of any one being very much used for Christ who did not have some special waiting time, some complete upset of all his or her plans first ; from St. Paul's being sent off into the desert of Arabia for three years, when he must have been boiling over with the glad tidings, down to the present day? You were looking forward to tell about trusting Jesus in Syria ; now He says, * I want you to show what it is to trust Me, without waiting for Syria.' Even if you never say one word, it will be seen your trust is .i reality, because Jesus is a Reality. "My own case is far less severe, but the same in principle, that when I thought the door was flung open for me to go with a bound into literary work, it is opposed, and doctor steps in and says simply ' Never ! She must choose between writing and living, she can't do both.' That was in i860. Then I came out of the shell with * Ministry of Song,' in 1869, and saw the evident wisdom of having been kept nine years waiting in the shade. " God's love being unchangeable, He is just as loving when we do not see or feel His love. Also Hi sovereignty and His love are co-equal and universal; so He withholds the enjoyment and conscious progress, because He knows best what will really ripen and further His work in us." ** * Ye shall be gathered one by one, O ye children of Israel.' (Isa. xxvii. 12,) Hence, individual love and SWITZERLAND ONCE MORE. 121 cnre, personal calling and guidance. Yet rtiis is only for the wilderness jouj-ney, for the *one by one' will blossom at last into a grand answer to His prayer, * that they all may be one,' no longer ' one by one.' " " Tired, disappointed, and depressed, I tliought of Matthew xi. 28, ' Come unto Me all ye that labour,' but felt quite tantalized at it becauLe * labour ' did not apply to me. I took up my Greek Testament and Lexicon, and to my delight saw that the very same word is used in John iv. 6, 'Jesus therefore being "iccaried.^ Just human, natural, physical fatigue ! So I didn't see why I should not take the comfort of it, and 1 did not trouble to think, but He let the words rest me altogether." In the summer of 1873 Frances accompanied her friends Mr. and Mrs. Snepp and their daughter Emily to Switzerland. She describes her ascent to the Grands Mulcts on Mont Blanc, arriving at its desolate rocks i;i the midst of an ocean of snow. We had some lovely effects, such as I had never seen before, in pass'ng the colossal ice blocks on the shady side, the sun behind them touching the edges with a sort of transparent aureole, and shining through a glittering drip from the overhanging ones. On their descent from Mont Blanc, Frances' delight in glissading led to most perilous and im- minent danger, from which Mr. Snepp's instant- ;ft i! ;ii ■'; k 122 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. areous presence of mind save 1 her life and also the life of one of the guides. She writes : They would not unrope me; when we g'^t to Pierre \ I'Echelle, I was so enjoying my glissades, and pre- sently thought we were come to a sufficiently easy part to go carelessly, whereupon I slipped, and Payot the guide, who was next to me, totally lost himself too. Below us was a dark abyss ; we both started a decidedly too rapid spin down a very steep incline to sheer pre- cipice below ; when, instantaneously, Mr. S. did the only possible thing which could have snved all four of us, flung himself right on his back with his heels in the snow, the orthodox thing to do if only any one has the presence of mind to do it. Thus he was enabled to bear the immense strain on the rope, and check our im- petus ; thank God, we soon recovered our footing. After this I was unroped, which I greatly prefer, it is so hampering, and had some splendid glissades alone, and we returned to Chamounix in two hours less than the regulation time. Returning from Switzerland to Oakhampton, our dear mother being at the seaside, Frances at once began most diligent work. Her active service had no intervals of dreamy enjoyment ; but cottage visitations, and four Bible classes weekly, attended with unwearied exertions, at last culmi- nated in crowded attendances in the servants' hall. Soon after this, she assisted in preparatory work for a Mission at Bewdlcy. With the late WOR/C AND PRAISE. 123 Vicar's consent, the Rev. G. Evcrard had promised to come ; but the fever in his family and the death of his dear children frustrated this arrangement, and the Rev. C. B. Sncpp undertook all the ser- vices. My sister, though very fragile, gave much help in the choir and other opportunities for work. The family at Winterdyne will ever have reason to thank God for Frances' visit, though no words here may tell of its lasting influence and blessed results. During a Mission Week at Liverpool she was again at work. {To Margaret IV.) EccLESTON Hall, October 23, 1873. To think of my actually being here ! J is so good to me, nursing me after my Liverpool work, which ratlier used mc up. I had a young women's meeting on Wednes- day, was at work all Thursday morning, and intended to make sure of an hour's very needful rest, and preparation for my hymn meeting, when some callers came who had, I trust, really got a blessing the night before. I am hardly as much used up as I feared, after five days' incessant work, but it is long since I had any real rest. . . . I have just been writing my request for praise. What can I do ? I ca'nt curtail it ! Oh, how I wish I could have come over to your praise meeting, and just tried to tell you all how gracious, and faithful, and near^ God has been all this summer ! If I kept a diary it would be just a record of answers to prayer, and such great ones too ! I wish you would tell the members of the Y. W. C. A., J II hMm \< I i i r! 'i,' 124 MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. because they would be encouraged to hear how wonder- fully God has answered one of their members, and He is the same God, rich to all that call upon Him. . . . We now reach a period in the life of dear Frances that was characterized by surpassing blessing to her soul. The year 1873 was drawing to a close, and she was again visiting at Winterdyne. One day she received in a letter from N a tiny book with the title " All for Jesus." She read it carefully. Its contents arrested her attention. It set forth a fulness of Christian experience and blessing exceeding that to which she had as yet attained. She was gratefully conscious of having for many years loved the Lord and delighted in His service ; but there was in her experience a fallinp" short of the standard, not so much of a holy walk and conversation, as of uniform brightness and continuous enjoyment in the Divine life. "All for Jesus " she found went straight to this point of the need and longing of her soul. Writing in reply to the author of the little book, she said : " I do so long for deeper and fuller teaching in my own heart. * All for Jesus ' has touched me very much. . . . I know I love Jesus, and there are times when I feel such intensity of love to Him that I have not words to describe it. I rejoice, too, in I !».%'•; THE U'AIVr SATISFIED. 125 Him as my 'Master' and * Sovercij^n,' but I want to come nearer still, to have the full realization of John xiv, 21, and to know 'the power of His resurrection/ even if it be with the fellowship of Mis sufferings. And all this, not exactly for my own joy alone, but for others. ... So I want Jesus to speak to me, to say ' many things ' to me, that I may speak for Him to others with real power. It is not knowing doctrine, but being ivith Him, which will give this." God did not leave her long in this state of mind. He Himself had shown her that there were "re- gions beyond " of blessed experience and service ; had kindled in her very soul the intense desire to go forward and possess them; and now, in His own grace and love, He took her by the hand, and led her into the goodly land. A few words from her correspondent on the power of Jesus to keep those who abide in Him from falling, and on the con- tinually present power of His blood (^UJie blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin J'*) were used by the Master in effecting this. Very jo}'ously she replied : "/ see it all^ and I HAVE the blessing^ The " sunless ravines " were now for ever passed, and henceforth her peace and joy flowed onwards, Hi I * I John i. 7. t !l :i 126 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ IT. deepening and widening under the teaching of God the Holy Ghost. The blessing she had received had (to use her own words) " lifted her whole life into sunshine, of which all she had previously expe- rienced was but as pale and passing April gleams, compared with the fulness of summer glory." The practical effect of this was most evident in her daily, true-hearted, whole-hearted, service for her King, and also in the increased joyousness of the unswerving obedience of her home life, the surest test of all. To the reality of this, I do most willingly and fully testify. Some time afterwards, in answer to my question, when we were talking quietly together, Frances said : " Yes, it was on Advent Sunday, December 2nd, 1873, I first saw clearly the blessedness of true consecration. I saw it as a flash of electric light, and what you see you can never uhsqq. There must be full surrender before there can be full blessedness. God admits you by the one into the other. He Himself showed me all this most clearly. You know how singu- larly I have been withheld from atte.iding all conventions and conferences ; man's teaching has, consequently, had but little to do with it. First, I was shown that 'the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin,' and then it was made plain to me that He who had thus cleansed THE ITIGinVA Y OF IIO/.LVESS. 127 mc had power to keep me clean ; so I just utterly yielded myself to Him, and utterly trusted Him to keep me." I replied that " it seemed to me, if we did thus yield ourselves to the Lord, we could not take ourselves back again, any more than the Levitical sacrifices, once accepted by the priest, were re- turned by him to the offerer." "Yes," she rejoined, "just so. Still, I see there can be the reneival of the surrender, as m our Communion Service, where we say : ' And here we offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls and bodies.' And there may also be a fuller surrender, even long after a surrender has once, or many times before, been made. And then as to sanctification : that it is the work of the Holy Spirit, and progressive, is the very thing I see and rejoice in. He has brought me into the 'highway of holiness,' up which I trust every day to progress, continually pressing forward, led by the Spirit of God. And I do indeed find that with it comes a happy trusting, not only in all great matters, but in all the little things also, so that I cannot say ' so and so worries me.' " Some months afterwards I received the follow- ing letter on the same subject : Dearest Maria, — . . . Certainly your letters have filled me with ■r I V m k ;i! illli: 128 MEMORIALS OL F. A\ 11, gladness and thanksgiving. Loving tlumks to Mr. Sliaw for his message. . . . I have long wanted to explain to you and others in writing (which is easier to me to be dear in, than in con- versation, with its natural interruptions) what I see as to the subject which to me was undoubtedly the portal into a happy life. As to " perfectionism " or " sinlessness," I have all along, and over and over again, said I never did, and do not, hold either. " Siniessness " belongs only to Christ now, and to our glorified state in heaven. 1 believe it to be not merely an impossibility on earth, but an actual contradiction of our very being, which cannot be " sinless " till the resurrection change has passed upon us. But being kept from falling, kept from sins, is quite another thing, and the Bible seems to teem with commands and promises about it. First, however, I would distuictly state, that it is only as and while a soul is under the full power of the blood of Christ that it can be cleansed from all sin ; that one moment's withdrawal from that power, and it is again actively because really sinning ; and that it is only as, and while, kept by the power of God Himself that we are not sinning against Him ; one instant of standing alone is certain fall ! But, (premising that,) have we not been limiting the cleansing power of the precious blood when applied by the Holy Spirit, and also the keeping power of our God ? Have we not been limiting i John i. 7, by practically making it refer only to "the remission of sins that are past," instead of taking the grand simplicity of " clean seth us from all sin"? "All" is all; and as we may trust Him to cleanse from the stain of past sins, so we may trust Him to cleanse from all present defilement ; yes, all! -I ' m-ii EXPLANATORY LETTER. 129 If not, \vc take away from this most precious promise, and, by refusing to take it in its fulness, lose the fuhvjss of its ap|)lication and power. Then we limit God's power to "keep"; we look at our frailly more than at flis omni- potence. ^^'here is the line to be drawn, beyond which He is 7iot '* able "? The very keeping implies total help- lessness without it, and the very cleansing most distinctly implies defilement without it. It was that one word " clcanscth " which opened the door of a very glory of hope and joy to me. I had never seen the force of the tense before, a continual present, always a present tense, not a present which the next moment becomes a past. It ^^oes on cleansing, and I have no words to tell how my heart rejoices in it. Not a coming to be cleansed in the fountain only, but a remaining in the fountain, so that it may and can go on cleansing. Why should we pare down the commands and pro- mises of God to the level of what we have hitherto experienced of what God is " able to do," or even of what we have thought He might be able to do for us ? Why not receive God's promises, nothing doubting, just as they stand ? " Take the shield of faith, whereby ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked "; " He is able to make all grace abound toward you, that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things "; and so on, through whole constellations of promises, which surely mean really and fully what they say. One arrives at the same thing, starting almost from any- where. Take Philippians iv. 19, "your need "; well, what is my great need and craving of soul ? Surely it is now, (having been justified by faith, and having assurance of salvation,) to be made holy by the continual sanctifying K :! t iii 1 isiii Hi liir; ■:i;i I it' I »3o MEMORIALS OF F. K. If. power of (iod's Spirit; to be kept from grieving the Lord Jesus; to be kept from thinking or doing whatever is not accordant with Mis holy will. Oh what a need is this ! And it is said " He shall supply all need " ; now, shall we turn round and say " all " does not mean quite all ? Both as to the commands and the promises, it seems to me that anythir.^' short of believing them as they stand is but another form of " yea, hath God said ? " Thus accepting, in simple and unquestioning faith, God's commands and promises, one seems to be at once brought into intensified views of everything. Never, oh never before, did sin seem so hateful, so really " intoler- able," nor watchfulness so necessary, and a keenness and uninterruptedness of watchfulness too, beyond what one ever thought of, only somehow different, not a distressed sort but a happy sort. It is the watchfulness of a sentinel when his captain is standing by / '■ on the ramparts, when his eye is more than ever on 'ilert for any sign of the approaching enemy, because he knows they can only approach to be defeated. Then, too, the " all for Jesus " comes in ; one sees there is no half way, it must be absolutely all yielded up, because the least unyielded or doubtful point is sin, let alone the great fact of owing all to Him. And one cannot, dare not, temporize with sin. I know, and have found, that even a momentary hesitation about yielding, or obeying, or trusting and believing, vitiates all, the communion is broken, the joy vanished ; only, thank God, this never need continue even five minutes, faith may plunge instantly into " the fountain open for sin and unclean- ness," and again find its power to cleanse and restore. Then one wants to have more and more light ; one does EXri.ANA 7V )A' J' / A" TTER. I3t not slirink from painful discoveries of evil, because one so wants to have the unknown depths of it cleansed as well as what comes to the surface. " Cleanse me tlirow^lily from my sin ," and one prays to be shown this, liut so far as one does see, one must " put away sin " and obey entirely; and here again His power is our resource, enaljling us to do what without it we could not do. One of the intensest moments of my life was when I saw the force of that word " dcauscthy The utterly un- expected and altogether unimagined sense of its fulfilment to me, on simply believing it in its fulness, was just in- describable. I expected nothing like it short of heaven. I am so thankful that, in the whole matter, there was as little human instrumentality as well could be, for certainly two sentences in letters from a total stranger were little. I say only two sertences, for nothing else seemed to make much difference to me ; all the rest was, I am sure, God's own direct teaching. And you know I had read no books and attended no meetings or conferences ! I am so conscious of His direct teaching and guidance, through His v/ord and Spirit, in the matter that I cannot think 1 can ever unsee it again. I have waited many months before writing this, so it is no new and untested theory to me ; in fact, experience came before theory and is more to me than any theory. But, understand me, it is "not as though / had already attained, either were already perfect \ but I follow after, I press toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus." Frances wrote to her friend J K : I send you my own New Year's motto and message. '^11 W 1 ! i ' ,1! ■!: :; \\ i : ^ l^fiif \ ; ly *)'.' ) 132 MEMORIALS OF f. R. 11. It is a wonderful word, " from glory unto glory." May we more and more claim and realize all that is folded up in it. I know you have prayed for me, so I must tell you that your prayers are answered. 1873 has been a year of unprecedented blessing to me. I think you will see this in " From Glory unto Glory." So now will you join me in praise. .... This hymn was written at Winterdyne, and Mr. Shaw well remembers Frances bringing it and reading it to him, saying, " There ! I could not have written this before." And as she stood, even in the twilight, the sunny radiance of her counte- nance was sealing her words : " The fulness of His blessing encompasseth our way ; The fulness of His promises crowns every brightening day ; The fulness of His glory is beaming from above, While more and more we realize the fulness of His love." Every visit seemed now to open doors for her loving words, and she longed for whole households to taste with her of the goodness of the Lord. One extract must be as it were a glimpse of many others. Perhaps you will be interested to know the origin of the consecration hymn, '' Take my life." I went for a little visit of five days. There wer^ ten persons in the house, some unconverted and long prayed for, some f i' k. S/.VCLVG FOR JESUS. >33 converted but not rejoicing Christians. He gave me tlie prayer, " Lord, give me all in this house ! " And He just did! Before I left the house every one had got a blessing. The last night of my visit I was too happy to sleep, and passed most of the night in praise and renewal of my own consecration, and these little couplets formed tlicniselves and chimed in my heart one after another, till they finished with, " Ever, only, ALL for Thee I " The beautiful couplet in the same hymn, " Take my voice, and let me sing, Always, only, for my King," was thenceforth (from December 1873) really carried out. She writes : Let us sing words which we feel and love, sacrificing everything to clearness of enunciation, and looking up to meet His smile all the while we are singing; our songs will reach more hearts than those of finer voices and more brilliant execution, unaccompanied by His power. A sacred song thr ; sung often gives a higher tone to the evening, and affords, both to singer and listeners, some opportunity of speaking a word for Jesus. . . . . I was at a large regular London party lately, and I was so happy. He semed to give me *' the secret of His presence," and of course I sang "for Jesus," and did not I have dead silence ? Afterwards I had two really important conversations with strangers; one seemed extremely surprised at finding himself quite easily drifted from the badinage with which he started into a right- down pe.sonal talk about his personal danger and his i) i i i I 1 I! i » I 134 MEMORTALS OF F. R. //. only hope for safety ; he took it very well, and thanked me. Per^ aps that seed may bear fruit. Somehow it is wonderful how the Master manages for me in such cases. I don't think any one can say I force the subject ; it just all develops one thing out of another, quite naturally, till very soon they find themselves face to face with eternal things, and the Lord Jesus can be freely "lifted up " before them. I could not contrive a conversation thus. And the following letter gives another reference to the reality of her experience. January 26, 1874. Dear Mr. S , I have just had such a blessing in the shape of what would have been only two months ago a really bitter blow to me ; and now it is actual accession of joy, because I find that it does not even touch me ! I was expecting a letter from America, enclosing j£^^ now due to me, and possibly news that " Bruey " was going on like steam, and " Under the Surface " pressingly wanted. The letter has come, and, instead of all this, my publisher has failed in the universal crash. He holds my written promise to publish only with him as the con- dition of his launching me ; so this is not simply a little loss, but an end of all my American prospects of either cash, influence, or fame, at any rate for a long time to come. I really had not expected that He would do for me so much above all I asked, as not merely to help me to acquiesce in this, but positively not to feel it at all, and only to rejoice in it as a clear test of the reality of victorious faith which I do find brightening almost daily. NOT A FEAR, OR DOUBT, OR CARE. 135 Two months ago this would have been a real trial to me, for I had built a good deal on my American prospects ; now " Thy will be done " is not a sigh but only a soni:; ! I think if it had been all my English footing, present and prospective, as well as the American, that I thus found suddenly gone, it would have beeu worth it, for the joy it has been to find my Lord so faithful and true to all His promises. With regard to many of the promises, there seems no room for even the exercise of faith. It is not that I believe or grasp them, but that I find them all come true as I never did before. The sense of His uni'^terable lovingkindness to me is simply overwhelming. . . . . Several times lately I have felt literally over- whelmed and overpowered with the realization of God's unspeakable goodness to me. I say it deliberately, and with thankfulness and joy for which I have no words. I have not a fear, or a doubt, or a care, or a shadow upon the sunshine oi my heart. Every day brings some quite new cause for thankfulness ; only to-day He has given me such a victory as I never had before, in a very strong temptation ; He lifted me above it in a way I never experienced yet Two months afterwards she writes : Dear Mr. W- March 19, 1874. . . . I can never set myself to write verse. I believe my King suggests a thought and whispers me a musical line or two, and then I look up and thank 11 im delightedly, and go on with it. That is how the hymns and poems come. Just now there is silence. I have not had the least stir of music in my mind since r36 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. ^illii- 1 1 lit ^:i \- %m ill If I wrote that tiny consecration hymn, a most unusually long interval ; and till He sends it there will be none. I am always ready to welcome it and work it when it comes, but I never press for it. . . . And the following letter confirms this statement. Dear Mr. W . I can't make you quite understand me ! You say "F. R. H. could do 'Satisfied' grandly"! No, she couldn't ! Not unless He gave it me line by line ! That is how verses come. The Master has not put a chest of poetic gold into my possession and said " Now use it as you like ! " But He keeps the gold, and gives it me piece by piece just when He will and as much as He will, and no more. Some day perhaps He will send me a bright line of verse on " Satisfied " ringing through my mind, and then I shall look up and thank Him, and say, " Now, dear Master, give me another to rhyme with it, and then another "> and then perhaps He will send it all in one flow of musical .thoughts, but more likely one at a time, that I may be kept asking Him for every line. There, that is the process, and you see there is no " I can do it " at all. That isn't His way with me. I often smile to myself when people talk about "gifted pen" or "clever verses," etc. ; because they don't know that it is neither, but something really much nicer than being " talented " or "clever." Nearly every poem would verify the above. Some instances are given. When visiting at Perry Barr she walked to the boys' schoolroom, and mm HYMN MEMORANDA. m being very tired she leaned against the play- ground wall while Mr. Snepp went in. Returning in ten minutes, he found her scribbling on an old envelope, and at his request she handed him the hymn just pencilled, " Golden harps are sounding." In my dear sister's copy of the " Ministry of Song " she has written particulars, which may be interesting, in connection with others of her well known hymns. " This Same Jesus " is founded on a recollection of one sentence in a sermon of my father's, at St. Nicholas, which struck me most vividly and happily. I shall not forget the thrill which went through me when he said, "it will be * this same Jesus.'" It also developed a much earlier impression of the same kind in 185 1. "This same Jesus " is one of the chief watchwords of my faith. I constantly recur to it, and I think it will be my comfort in the dark valley. I wrote the lines at Oakhampton, one Sunday, when detained from church by a slight accident, and gave them to my niece Miriam. " Daily Strength." The New Year's bells were ring- ing (1859), when Maria awoke me to hear them, and quoted to me the text, "As thy days, so shall thy strength be," as a New Year's motto. I did not answer, but presently returned it to her in rhyme. She was pleased ; so the next day I wrote it in her album.* * The facsimile of the last verse, "When thy days on earth are passed," will be found beneath the engraved poutiiit of my dear sister. It shows her handwriting when copying. i ' I i 138 MEAfOR/ALS OF F. R. II. " Making Poetry " was suggested by a nice little girl, Charlotte Kirke, who was spending her holidays in Wales, when I was there in 1863. She made some really pretty little quatrains, and repeated one, about a daisy, to me sitting on the window seat. She called it ** making poetry," as children always do. "Adoration" ("O Master, at Thy feet I bow in rapture 3weet") was written on December 31st, 1866. I felt that I had not written anything specially in praise to Christ ; a strong longing to do so possessed me. I wanted to show forth His praise, to Uim, not to others ; even if no mortal ever ;.aw it. He would see every line, would know the unwritten longing to praise Him, even if words failed utterly. It describes, as most of my poems do, rather reminiscence than present feeling. " O Master ! " It is perhaps my favourite title, because it implies rule and submission ; and this is what love craves. Men may feel differently, but a true woman's submission is inseparable from deep love. I wrote it in the cold and twilight in a little back room at Shareshill Parsonage. As I began my book ("Ministry of Song*') with the expression of its devotion to God's glory, I wished to close it with a distinctive ascription of praise to the Lord Jesus, and therefore at once decided to place " Adora- tion " at the close. Her missionary hymn "Tell it out among the heathen " was written at Winterdyne, when unable SB MORE OPEN DOORS. 139 to go to church one sno\v^y Sunday morning. She asked for her Praycr-Book (in bed), always Hking to follow the services for the day. On Mr. ShaAv's return from church, he heard her touch on the piano. "Why, Frances, I thought you were upstairs!" " Yes ; but I had my Prayer-Book, and in the psalms for to-day I read ' Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord is King.' I thought, what a splendid first line ! and then words and music came rushing in to me. There it's all written out." With copperplate neatness she had rapidly written out the words, music and harmonies complete. Only those who heard her could imagine the brisk ringing time with which she sang this tune. It distressed her when told how slowly and drowsily it was sometimes given. Further extracts from the correspondence of the period will close the present chapter. Mv DEAREST G , I am waiting for the carriage to take me back to Oak- hampton, having been spending a few hours in Worcester, an( seeing some old parishioners of years ago, who re- collect me as " little Miss Fanny." . . . The last two days I have been very busy, having spent the whole day before at Winterdyne, and even a day always throws me behind in letters, etc. I meant to rest here, but somehow there always seems to b*" too much to do. Such a very nice " open door " is set before me that I if mm i !l ''^ Ml i 140 Jlf/i:A/-0AW.'1/.S OF F, R. II. cannot but enter in, and so I have four different Bible classes a week ! besides which, as man}' cottagers as I can possibly visit are grateful for reading. Yesterday evening I had a "farmers* daughters" class; twelve came, but I think a few more will join. I enjoyed it extremely, was frightened and nervous beforehand, and unavoidable visitors detained and distracted me up to the last minute, which seemed most unfortunate, but probably cast me all the more upon Jesus and His strength. . . . Dear G , will you pray for my little work here. I do think that in each of my classes here there is something going on, and a most earnest spirit of attention among the servants. And will you ask that I may be kept near to Jesus. I have brought you a crystal and amethyst locket from Geneva. . . . They told me it was a quite new device, but somehow the novelty did not weigh with me in choosing for you, so much as the suggestiveness of the stones ; the very words " crystal and amethyst " are like a far gleam from the heavenly city. • ••••• I have been thinking much lately of the Lord's lovinc;- kindness in giving us so much wayside enjoyment, and so much present reward in all our work for Him. In spite of dark life enigmas, and real and heavy trials, and often keen inner conflict, not to mention daily burdens of weariness or anxiety or worry, we can set to our seal that His "ways are ways of pleasantness." For, over and above the great gifts, the " blessed hope " set before us, and the quiet " peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ," what numbers of bits and drops of pleasure and delight oae gets, which simply would not exist for us if I 1 ''FELLOWS //I p." 141 we were not His children. Just look at Ciiristian inter- course, the meetings without any cloud of suspicion or doubt of each other, the consciousness of true sweet sympathy, the thrill that one does feel when His bclovod name is named ; all this, even with Christian acquaint' afices, is a great deal more than all the pleasure or good to be got out of any worldly intimacy or friendship so called. I want to hand over to you what I have been enjoying very much this week, a simple thought enough, but so nice. Dr. Candlish gives (in his beautiful book on the First Epistle of St. John) as one of the proofs of " fellow- ship with the Father," etc., our sympathy of aim. His cause being our cause. His kingdom and its advancement our interest, what interests Him interests us, and so on. This seemed at once to transfigure all one's daily life, and poor little small efforts to speak or write or work for God, and to exalt it into " fellowship." I cannot convey to you how much I enjoyed it, and what a bright reality and force it gave to the words " Truly our fellow- ship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ." I like to think how impossible it would be to untwine Christ and the things of Christ from our life, inner and outer 3 when one comes to think about it He is so really and truly interwoven with our life that one seems to feel the " no separation " not merely as a grand promise, but an actuality- which cannot be otherwise. ! f km m CHAPTER IX. (1874.) Circular letters — Sunset on the Faulliorn — Ormont Dcssus — Interruptions to poems — Other work done — '* Little riliows," etc. — Swiss singing — That great transfer — A musical reverie — Return to England — Bright work and results. WE give extracts from F. R. H.'s circular letters on her journey to Switzerland in 1874, with her niece Constance Crane, other friends (Elizabeth, Margaret, an^ Bessie) joining in their mountain excursions. " Sunset on the Faulhorn ! " All day there had been strange rifts in the clouds, and sudden pictures of peaks or of abysses framed in white and grey ; but towards seven o'clock the wind rose, and there was a grand outpour of colour upon everything, sky, clouds, and mountains. Imagine yourself midway between heaven and eafth, the sharp point of rock on which we stood hardly seem- ing more of earth than if we had been in a balloon, the whole space around, above, and below filled with wild, weird, spectral clouds, driving and whirling in incessant change and with tremendous rapidity ; horizon no/ie, but every part of where horizon should be, crowded with un- imaginable shapes of unimagined colours, with rifts of every shade of blue, from indigo to pearl, and burning with every tint of fire, from gold to intensest red j shafts SUNSET IVOXDE/^S. 143 of keen light shot down into abysses of purple thousands of feet below, enormous surging masses of grey hurled u[) from beneath, and changing in an instant to glorified brightness of fire as they seemed on the point of swallow- ing up the shining masses above them ; then, all in an instant, a wild grey shroud flung over us, as swiftly pass- ing and leaving us in a blaze of sunshine ; then al)ursting open of the very heavens, and a vision of what might be celestial heights, pure and still and shining, high above it all ; then, an instantaneous cleft in another wild cloud, and a revelation of a perfect paradise of golden and rosy slopes and summits ; then, quick gleams of white peaks through veilings and unveilings of flying semi-transparent clouds ; then, as quickly as the eye could follow, a rim of dazzling light running round the edges of a black castle of cloud, and flaming windows suddenly pierced in it ; oh, mother dear, I might go on for sheets, for it was never twice the same, nor any single minute the same, in any one direction. At one juncture a cloud stood still, apparently al)Out 200 yards ofi^, and wc each saw our own shadows gigantically reflected on it, sur- rounded by a complete rainbow arch, but a full circle of bright prismatic colours, a transfiguration of our shadows almost startling, each moreover seeing only their own glorification ! When the whole pageant, lasting nearly an hour, was past, we sang " Abide with me," and then the dear old joyous " Glory to Thee, my God." Ormont Dessus, September. This second month of my Swiss journey is altogether different from the first, for now I am making writing the first thing instead of idleness. 1 am doing it quite in IP s i H' l!f ii'l f ■'■ (( M-^ 144 MEMORIALS OF F. h\ II. moderation, and taking plenty of fresh air as well ; one can be out half the day and yet get four or five good hours writing as well, under these circumstances, when there arc no other calls upon time or strength whatever ; and this combination of work and leisure is very dcliglitful. Besides, I feel as if I had got quite afresh start with that month's rest ; it seems as if nature had then walkcl i'lfr) my brain and taken possession (turning mc out mean- while), and given it a kind of spring cleaning ! rubbing up the furniture, and fresh pai)ering some of the rooms, and cleaning the windows ! That peri)etual " moving on," which some so delight in, docs not suit n>e nearly so well as staying in a place and taking it easy. The weather has been so much colder and more variable, since I changed my tactics, that the two things coincided beautifully; for, except two days, it has been too cold the last fortnight for ajiy sitting out of doors. I don't know why I always seem to shrink from writing much, or even anything, of the '* under the surface " life, (which is so much more than the " on the surface " and the mere surroundings,) in my circulars. They would be much fullci if I told one tit. 2 of the hourly bits of gentle guidance and clear lovingkindness which make tiic real enjoyment, or of the perpetual little opportunities of a " word for Jesus " which He seems to give me, and often of real work for Him, which yet seems to come so unsought, so easily and naturally, so altogether without any eftbrt, as to be not felt to be any working at all. Now I will give you an instance of how He took me at my word the other day. It was one of the few warni days, and I established myself with pen and ink in a shady nook by a little, steep, down-hill torrent. I had A CHANCE OP WORK, 145 suddenly got that sort of strong impulse to write on a certain theme, without which I never do my best, but with which I always do my best poems. The theme was a grand one ("The Thoughts of Cod") ; I had thought of it for montiis, and never before had this impulse to begin upon it; though, once begun, I expected it to be one of my best poems. I spent a little time in prayer first, and then the warning and the promise in Jeremiah XV. 19 came strongly to my mind : "if thou take forth the precious from the vile, thou shalt be as My mouth." I felt that wanted looking into ; I wanted Him to take forth the precious from the vile for me, and to reveal and purge away, then and there, all the self and mingled motive which would utterly mar the work that I wanted to be for His glory. After that the question came, was I — had He made me — ^just as willing to do any little bit of work for Him, something for little children or poor people, simple and unseen, as this other piece of work, which might win something of man's praise ? Then, I was intensely happy in feeling that I could tell Him that I had no choice at all about it; but would really rather do just what He chose for me to do, whatever it might be. However, there seemed nothing else to do, so I began my poem. I don't think I had written four lines when a labourer with a scythe came along a tiny path to drink at the stream a lew yards below me. He did not see me, and started when I hailed him and offered him a little book. He (limbed up to receive it, and then, instead of departing as I expected, deliberately sat down on a big stone at -iiy feet, and commenced turning over the leaves, and evidently laying himself out to be talked to. So here was clearly a little call; and 1 talked to him for some ( m ji liiw-i 146 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. time, he being vci}^ interested and responsive. Just as he was going to move off, two lads, of about fifteen and eighteen, his sons, came crashing through the bushes ; I don't recollect whether the father beckoned them or not, anyhow up they came, and he quietly sat down again, and they sat down too, and seemed quite as willing to listen to the " old, old story " as he had been, only I could not get so much out of them. At last the whole crew departed, and I was just collecting my thoughts and reviving the aforesaid "impulse," when in about ten minutes the younger lad reappeared, with his sister, a girl of about seventeen. They did not say a word, but scrambled straight up to me, and, seating themselves at my feet, looked up into my face, saying by their look as plain as any words, " Please talk to us ! " What could one do but accede ! and they stayed at least another half hour, so quiet and interested that one could not but hoi)e the seed was falling on *' good ground." The girl, Felicie, was more communicative than the lads, very simple, but intelligent. By the time they departed a good part of the morning was gone, and the " impulse " too ! but I enjoyed the morning probably twice as much as if I had done a good piece of my poem ; and it seemed so clear that the Master had taken me at my word, and come and given me this to do for Him among His *' litHe ones, ' and that He was there hearing and answering and accept- ing me, that it was worth any amount of poem-power. However, next day the •' impulse" came again, whirli is by no means always the case when once inlerru[)t(.(l ; and once fairly started, I have worked out what I think is perhaps the best poem I e^er wrote, so far as 1 can judge. But this is only one of constant instances \vhi( h I **A LIVING Py RIGHT REALITY!'' 147 could tell. I do so feel that every hour is distinctly and definitely guided by Him. I have taken Him at His word in everything^ and He takes me at my word in a'cryf fling. Oh, I can say now that Jesus is "to me a living bright Reality," and that He really and truly is "more dear, more intimately nigh, than e'en the sweetest carllily tie." No friendship could be what I find His to be. 1 have more now than a few months ago, even thoiif^h I was so ha[)i)y then ; for the joy of gir'ing my- self, and my will, and my all to Him seems as if it weio succeeded, and even superseded, by the deeper joy of a conscious certainty that He has /al:en all that He led me to give ; and " I am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I have committed unto Him": so, having entrusted my very trust to Him, I look forward ever so happily to the future {if there be yet much of earthly future for me) as " one vista of brightness and blessed- ness." Only I do so want everybody to " taste and see." Yesterday I somehow came ;o a good full stop in my writing much earlier than I expected, and asked what He would have me do next, go on, or go out at once ? Just then a young lady came in ; " Had 1 just a fe v minutes to spare ? ' So I went out with her at once. She had overheard a short chat I had had some days ago with another, didn't know 7L>/i(if, but it had set her longing for something more than she had got. She had scarted out for a walk alone, thinking and praying, and the thought came to her to come straight to me, which she seemed to think an unaccountably bold step. Well, God seemed to give me exactly the right message for her, just as with Miss M last week, the two cases starting from a »ery diffjrent level but the resiilt the same, a real turning point. If m ■ 1 Ml II i 9, i ^ 1 ■ : ;;; N 1 ill ii; : 148 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ //. Don't conclude, however, from these that I am always seeing results, because I am not; but that I am entirely content about, just as He chooses it to be. It has occurred to me that, as I profess to be "writing," you will expect a new book as the result, and will be disai)pointed ; so I tell you simply what I /lare written, and what I am going to write. " Our Swiss Guide." Article for Sunday Magazine^ on the spiritual analogies in all sorts of little details of mountaineering. " For Charity." Song for Hutchings and Romer. " Enough." Short sacred poem. " How much for Jesus ? " A sort of little true story fur children ; for an American edition.* ** True Hearted." New Year's Address (in verse) for Y. W. C. A., for January 1875. " Tiny Tokens." A small poem for Good Words. Precious Things." A poem. A Suggestion." Short paper for Home Words, " The Precious Blood of Jesus." A hymn. " Tile Thoughts of God." The aforesaid poem. " Shining for Jesus." Verses addressed to my nieces and nephews at \Vinterdyne. " New Year's Wishes," by Caswell's request, for a very pretty card. The>e are nil written, and copied, and done .with. Next, "reek, I).V., I set about what I have long wanted «( u * TIlis in:mii>;cript we have no due to ; any infornialion ccncera- ing it would be acceplable. WORR' AiVD REST. 149 to do : " Little Pillows," thirty-one short papers as a little book for children of, say, twelve years old ; a short, easily recollected text, to go to sleep upon for each night of the month, with a page or two of simple practical thoughts about it, such as a little girl might read every niglit while having her hair brushed. I think this will take me about a fortnight to write and arrange for press ; adding probably a verse or two of a hymn at the end of each of the little papers. There are lots of little monthly morning and evening books for grown up people, but I fl n't know of one for children except those containing omy. texts. I dare say I shall get in somehow three other little poems that want writing (being on the simmer) : "The Splendour of God's Will," "The Good Master," and (don't be startled at the transition) " Play- things" ; also " Johann von Allmen," a little article for the DaysJ)nng. I can clear off things easily here, espe- cially through not having so many letters. If I could manage three months every year in a Swiss or Welsh valley, I should keep my printer going. i'fl OrmoinT Dessus, September 29, 1874. Dearest Mother, — I don't know whether there is enough of interest for a final circuit. . Not being sure of your address, the last went to Maria. . . . The last week at the Ormont Dessus the weather was perfect, and, without being un- pleasantly hot, was waiTn enough for sitting out not merely in the sunshine but in the moonlight too. Sunday was one of the most exqiiisiie days imaginable, brilliantly <^lear, the autumn tints throwing in touches of crimson and gold in sflenditl contrast to the pine woods, and ' r 'W^^ 'If I li 1 11 i! ■ '; 1 •1 1 i i i i i Al ilri } Pt 150 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ II. i| (what is so rare in Switzerland) the noon and afternoon as glowing as the morning, everything vivid all day. At the little French service I soon saw we had " iiomebody" in the pulpit, and it was M. de Pressense, who is, I have been told, one of the first French orators. His sermon was both eloquent and good. The people sing beau- tifully, a downright treat, in German choral style as to music, slow rich harmonies that bear dwelling on ; one tune was Cassel. No. 190 in " Havergal's Psalmody." It was such sweet singing, every one keeping to crcs. and ■ dim.^ neither instrument nor apparently any stated choir, but all the parts correctly sung by the congregation of peasants. ... I have finished not only " Little Pillows," but a little companion to it for morning use, "Morning Bells"; both manuscripts are ready for press. I do not think it is nearly so easy to write for children as for adults \ constantly I refrained from what I would most like to say about the texts, because it would not be sim|)]e enough for the little ones. I have purposely avoidcti any stories or anecdotes, lest children should skim the book tlirough in search of them, instead of reading them night and morning steadily. At least I know that is what I should have done ! I do so hope these books will be really helpful to some of His litile ones. ... 1 am so sorry that I shall not see Miss Whately at Montreux ; I have a nice letter from her; she has been delayed in England. You ask me how I am, dearest mother. Very well indeed ; those pleasant mountain ascents with Constance were delightful. She is a first rate Aipuxist, and we both enjoyed getting over crevasses and glissading. Since then I have done nothing to tire myself, and in every way have set health mgm A MUSICAL VISION. 151 first ; I do wish to be very prudent, only by prudence I don't mean idleness. I sougiit to gain health and strength, that I might use it on my return. . . . I had a short conversation with two respectable men from West Bromwich, who had been for a Swiss holiday with Cook's tickets. They applied to me to interpret something for them, and this led to a little talk which drifted as usual into better things, and I found a decided response. I had alluded to Christ's finished work for us, when one of them answered quietly, "Yes, it's a transfer, that's the word. The last three days I have had that word always in my mind ; that's just what it is, a transfer, He takes our sins and makes over to us His righteousness." Then he told me that he had met on the Rigi an invalid Irish clergyman, who seemed full of that one thing ; that he began telling him of Christ's finished work and he ended with it. "And I never saw it so clearly before, though I Ve been, so to say, looking about for it this long time ; it was worth all my journey to get hold of this truth. It seemed curious that such an ex- cellent clergyman should be obliged to give up his living from ill health and ordered abroad ; but he was sowing the seed in fifty places instead ot one. Yes, that great transfer ! It's blessed ! " Was it not a nice instance of the real use of such seed sowing? . . . . . . In the train I had one of those curious musical visions, which only very rarely visit me. I hear strange and very beautiful chords, generally full, slow and grand, succeeding each other in most interesting sequences. I do not invent them, I could not ; they pass before my mind, and I only listen. Now and then m I BjHip^^ff ■ 1 1 ! 1 ':!: 152 MEMORTAIS OF /•'. A'. //. my will sccnis aroused when I see ahead how some fine resolution might follow, and I seem to 7oiil that certain chords should come, and then they do come ; but then my will seems suspended again, and they go on quite independently. It is so interesting, the chords seem to fold over each other and die away down into music of in- finite softness, and then they ////fold and open out, as if great curtains were being withdrawn one after another, widening the view, till, with a gathering power and inten- sity and fulness, it seems as if the very skies were being opened out before one, and a sort of great blaze and glory of music, such as my outward ears never heard, gradually swells out in perfectly sublime splendour. This time there was an added feature : I seemed to hear depths and heights of sound beyond the scale which human ears can receive, keen, far-up octaves, like vividly twinkling starlii^ht of music, and mighty, slow vibrations of gigantic strings going down into grand thunders of dej)lhs, octaves below anything otherwise appreciable as musical notes. Then, all at once, it seemed as if my soul had got a new sense, and I could see this inner music as well as hear it ; and then it was like gazing down into marvellous abysses of sound, and up into dazzling regions of what, to the eye, would have been light and colour, but to this new sense was sound. Wasn't it odd ! It lasted perhaps half an hour, but I don't know exactly, and it is very difficult to describe in words. The long letter ends with : I wish you had seen and heard the welcome my cousins gave me ! It was so nice, and altogether I am so '*ANO THER B ROUGH Tl " 153 well and happy ! It was curious, dearest mother, that you should send me Psalm ciii. 1-3, for my mind was specially full of it, only adding verses 4 and 5. I have so very much to thank Him for, and the beautiful sequence of five blessings seemed to sum it all up : *' for- giveth," "healeth," " redeemeth," " crowncth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies," and " satisfieth tliy mouth with good things." And, really, I may add " so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's," for I feel so mentally fresh and unweary, and my cousins say they never saw me looking so well. Hoping soon to reach home, herewith ends the circular series of 1874 ! Your very loving child. Returning fronri Switzerland in perfect health, much could be told of her active work. We are glad to be permitted to give one result of a visit, before returning home to Leamington, as a repre- sentative of many others. Dear Maria, — This is not a circular. Just pray for all here. is first-fruits ! full and joyous decision for Christ, singu- larly tested and acted on at once. I knew she was not happy. When alone, I asked why she should let clays and weeks go by, drifting away in the cold. I told her I should leave her room after praying, and begged her to remain praying alone, and surrender her whole self to the Lord Jesus. By and by, the time came for her music practising. There was a ringingness in her touch, playing with such joyance. Presently, I '$i |iif' If is il ■ li HI! ^^M 1 :i"t, '■ i- : ™ ^Mili^ 1 154 MEMORIALS OF F. R, If. went in and just put my arm round her: ** Is it for Jesus ?" " Yes, I've made up my mind, it is ail for Jesus!" Every action spoke it, the smile and bright determination of her voice. Without any suggestion from me she told her mamma, the next day, that she could no longer act in a French play at school. Here was a test at once. We told ner to " pray about it and trust." The governess was astonished at her decision, and the girls still more so. So the good confession was made, and she took her stand on the Lord's side at once, in a way which is a real crossing of the Rubicon at school. I never talk to girls about " giving up." . . . I sent my sister the address of a young stranger, thinking that a visit would comfort her, and know- ing how loyally she accepted work, but not know- ing how inconvenient and pressing it would be. Dearest Marie, — I felt tempted to the old sense of pressure with your request, and cannot really possibly manage either of tie calls you suggest, without getting totally overdone ; that I can't feel would be right. I know you will approve, for you and I always understand each other. Then follows the characteristic postscript : I have thought it over, andvdecide to telegraph to your friend to meet me at Willesden Station on my journey home, and I could stay an hour at the station with her. It will be well worth any fatigue if I can comfort her. ... *i' \ CHAPTER X. (1874-1875.) A dark enigma — Typhoid fever — " Waiting at the golilen gates" — Coming back from tlicm — Wintcrdync — Relapse — Oak- hampton — The ministry of kind servants — Return to work — Letters — Gleams — Whitby — " Reality I " — The old friend's letter — Kindness of friends. " What though to-day Thou canst not trace at all the hidden reason For His strange dealings through the trial season, Trust and obey ! Though God's cloud-mystery enfold thee here, In after life and light ail shall be plain and clear." IN the latter part of this year (1874) came one of the strange enigmas of her life, stranger to our weaker faith than to her own implicit trust. Somehow or somewhere she caught fever, and commenced her homeward journey with dull head- ache and sickness. But she did not fail in that loving care for the stranger to whom reference was made on the preceding page ; and, through some mistake on her not arriving at VVillesden, Frances waited an hoiT and a half, and then took her in the train some miles on her journey, that she might \ S4f f 1 1 , ^ , ,1 1 i 'm li 1 J ; ! 1 i ' ji 1 r'l f\ isr, MEMORIALS OF F. A\ //". not forego the promise, interview. This testimony was received after the conversation : " Oh, if T v ould only feel as she looked ; your sister Frances was so young and lovely, and I am glad I saw for once that God-satisfied face, A ray of hope came as she talked to me in the train. . . ." Home was reached, shiverings and feverish symptoms rapidly set in, and she was soon utterly prostrate with typhoid fever. All that motherly watchfulness, medical skill, and trained nursing could do failed to arrest the attack. About the middle of November the balancings of our hopes and fears were just between life and death. Prayer was made uncc\ ingly for the life so dear to us, and even special prayer meetings were held to plead for one known so widely, though principally by her writings. Our prayers and cries and tears were answered, and our beloved one was restored. Some weeks after she told me many things which may be profitable to others. " All through my long illness I was very happy ; the first part was the most painful, I think it must have been neuralgia with the fever. I don't really think I was impatient deep down in my heart, and yet the pain and agony I was in made me anxious for the poultices, and to try anything. I do think I am sensitive to pain, and what was agony to me would be slight to others. My CONl'/'.h'Sf: LV TllK VALLF.y. »57 one wish was to glorify God and ito let my doctor and nurse see it ; so at the very first I determined to ask for notliin^' and just obey. Nothing could exceed dear mother's kindness and tenderness to me day and i.ight, and getting everything 1 wished for. For some time, even in those bright days in the Ormont Dcssus, I had a presentiment that, m;i}' be. my fiiiih would be tried, and that my Father would not leave me without chastise- ment. Not that I think illness such a trial as many others I have gone through ; oh, it's nothing to unseen trials ! Besides, you get such sympathy in illn ;ss, and I knew many would pray for me. Only, I did not want them to pray that I might get wdl at all. Sometimes I could not quite see His Face, yet there was His promise * I will never leave thee.' I knew He said it and that He was there." M. " Had you any fear at all to die ? " F. " Oh no, not a shadow. It was on the first day of this illness I dictated to Constance, ' Just as Thou wilt, Master, call ! '" M. " Then, was it delightful to think you were going home, dear Fan ? " F. " No, it was not the idea of going home, but that He was coming for me and that I should see my King. 1 never thought of death as going through the dark valley or down to the river ; it often seemed to me a going up to the golden gates and lying there in the brightness, just waiting for the gate to open for me . . . I never before was, so to speak, face to face with death. It was like a look into heaven ; and yet, when my Father sent me back again, I felt it was His will, and so I could not be disappointed." I5S MEMONIAIS OF F. A\ //. About the middle of January (1875) chaiij:^c of air was recommended, and I brought her to Winter- dyne. I remember that, just as we were assisting her into the carriage at our Leamingto!i home, the telegram came with the almost sudden news of our dear brother Henry's death, but it was thought right not to tell her till the journey was over. Only a few days passed of comparative recovery, when a relapse set in, and she was again ill for many weeks. It was really delightful work to nurse one so patient, so thankful, so considerate ; and, when it seemed needful to relieve the servants, and send for a nurse, they pleaded to be let sit up in turn with " dear Miss Frances." Turning to my notebook I find some recollec- tions which may be given. January 29, 1875. SitUng by dear Frances she said to me, "Isn't He gracious not to send me so severe an attack as in November? I felt sure the night I was shivering that illness was coming again ; and, as I lay down, the sweet consciousness that I was just lying down in His dear hand was so stilling," "Marie, do you think this simile holds good, that when we cast our burden on the Lord, at our Jirs^ prayer He cuts the strings that bind it on us ; then, if we give a leap, the burden will slide off, and we shall not go on toiling with it up the hill ! I mean, if we just CIlASTEXEl), PUT CHEN IS If ED. '59 thanked and praised Him, at once the burden would be clean gone ! " M. "Were you thinking of the burden of sin, dear?" /'. " Yes, and other burdens ; specially aggravations of things that you have no strength to bear." M. " I suppose if He is carrying //y, then He carries our burdens too." F. " Yes, that was our text last night, * I will carry ' ; if carried, no weight on us at all." M. " I think carrying is His first and last act , when He finds the lost sheep He lays it on His shoulder and just carries it all the way, even into His fold above. It will be nice to see Him, Fan ! " F. " ^ Nice,' I like that ; but I never heard any one but you say it just like that, except Mary . She once told me of a missionary and his wife who had reached the end of their voyage to India, and were to have landed that night but were prevented ; a sudden cyclone arose, and the ship and all in it went down instant- aneously. Mary added, * Was it not nice ? ' " * My dear sister always enjoyed the early morning air for a few minutes, and often wc had sweet talks before the break of day, and then she would get a little sleep. Sunday, February i, I found her very exhausted, and moaning with pain. She said : " No sleep last night, Marie. The Master wants me to bring forth more fruit, — , * '* Nice, nicfi, nice indeed ! " were the last words of Fanny Bickersteth. See " Doing and Suffering." '!- im liiBi iiU 160 A/EA/0AV.4/,S OF F. R. H. more patience." I said : " The Husbandman must be very near when He is pruning the brancli, and He is the God of patience." F. "That's nice." Another morning I said : " I will give you your Morning Bell, * Thou hast given me ihe shield of Thy salvation.' " F. *' His shield is the biggest and brightest ! I want you to ask some of His praying people to pray for me ; it's not I suppose a question of recovery, but that it may be blessed and sanctified to me. But I know the Lord Jesus is praying for me." M. "Yes, and He prays even before the trial or tempt- ation comes to us, as He said to Peter, * But I have prayed for thee.' " F. "And He must have presented all those inter- cescions for Peter before they heard him knocking at the door." After some days Frances was so extremely ill, that we telegraphed for our mother to come to Winterdyne. Remarking to Frances that dear mother was so wise, and that I could always trust her judgment in illness, she added, '* Yes, and such watchfulness and handiness too." When our dear mother arrived Frances said, " I am trusting Him for every bit of the way." Mother. "Yes, dear, and He will not bring u& by the right way and then leave us in the midst." F. " But perhaps the vessel won't get in just the tack she expects to." Sr.UlV RECOl ERY. r6i After the feverish attack had passed, she suffered very much from supervening results; but even when in acute pain would say lively things, to divert our thoughts from herself The servants were indeed astonished at her cheerful patience ; and I well remember a remark she made to me : " Oh, Marie, if I might but have five minutes ease from pain ! I don't want ever to moan wlien gentle sister Ellen comes in. How I am troubling you all !" M. " Bui, Fan ! we should not think it trouble to minister to the Lord Jesus ! " F. *' Well no, I only hope relationship won't preclude a big 'inasmuch * for you all." "... It's no mistake, Marie, about the bless- ing God sent me December 2, 1873 ; it is far more distinct than my conversion, I can't date that. I am always happy, and it is sucJl peace; I could not help smiling when my kind doctor said, * I dare say }'ou feci rather depressed.' I said : ' No indeed ! quite happy, only tired and want to be quiet.' Of coiTse I should like to be at work, and it seems strange how often I am hindered from it. You are aKva\s pegging away ; but I like to think I sJuill serve Him uo there, and I would rather serve than rest. . . . The work I should so like to take up is drawing-room l^ible readings ; I so enjo)-ed one I took down at Locking, but was rather startled to sec the good folks taking notes ! You see, I had i M f, i Uii 162 MKMOKlAr.S OF F. A\ II. just overcome the nervousness I used to feci, and I could so trust about this a) -o." Another day Frances said: " I think my special anticipation of heaven is seeing the Lord Jesus exalted, glorified, vindicated, reigning King of kings, and all His enemies owning Him." M. " Have you thought that as, in the Gospels, Christ's special manifestations were to people when alone^ so when we first see Him in heaven it will be alone ? " F. •' Yes, and that is most beautifully brought out in ]\Ir. Bickcrsteth's 'Yesterday, To-day, and For ever,' it's the very gem of the book. When I read it, and came to where the angel leaves him waiting for the King to come, I almost trembled as I turned the page ; for, if Mr. B. had treated it with a light hand, it would have been profane ; but it's lovely." " I have been thinking, Marie, how much more God gives me than 1 need. Look at this illness ! Well, except the bearing it, there is no other sting in it. I feel illness is the least trial, and it comes so directly from the hand of God. And how kind they all are to me ! Winterdyne always seems to me a sort of millennial household ! " Her recovery was extremely slow, but her room was the brightest in the house. At last she RETROSrECT. «63 was carried downstairs, but for some time used crutches. Needlework for the Zenana Missions was a great enjoyment to her. Sitting by her one day she told me her reasons for giving up singing at the Philharmonic. " It is a long time ago that I made the choice of singing sacred music only. I did so some months before I wrote : *Take my lips, and let me sing, Always, only, for my King.' I was visiting at Perry Villa when Dr. Marshall sent me the programme of the next Kidderminster concert, and strongly urged me to sing the part of Jezebel in the ' Elijah.,' saying that he could not depend on any one else for it. I knew I coiiU do it ; for once, at the practice, the doctor said I threw such life into it. Mentioning it to Mr. Snepp, he expressed surprise, and his words struck me : ' How can a Christian girl personate Jezebel }' So I thought about it, saw the inconsistency, and gave it up. I think the last thing T sang in the hall was * Come unto Him ! ' Then at Leamington, the first large party I went to, they asked me to sing, and I sang * Whom having not seen ye love.' Every one seemed astonished, and especially some Christian girls who had begun to think music could not be for the King's service, and were rather rebelling at their daily practice. They had never 1 h 164 MEMORIALS OF P. R. //. thouprht of consecrating^ their voices and fingers, but began from thenceforth. I would advise any- one thoroughly to master one song, make it part of yourself, throw your whole self into it, then pray it may be His message, and it will be all right. For myself, I have more confidence in singing Scripture words than any other, because they are His. And, Marie dear, as I sing I am praying, too, that it may soothe or reach some one, though I may never know whom." " I have been resting late on * The Lord is my portion.' All else is so uns isfying, and even the best earthly gifts fail to reach the true depths of the heart. I do so love that hymn : * To Thee, O dear, dear Saviour, My spirit turns for rest.' What could we do without Him in this lonely world of shadows } And He will not let us do without Him! And may we not reverently and wonderingly say, ' Neither can He do without us !' His people are so entwined around His heart that it must be so. " I have also been thinking that only the Holy Spirit can teach any one the mystery of 'the blood which cleanseth from all sin.' For years I believed it, without 'seeing as I do now into the mystery, and there are depths yet unseen. ^■ ^ gsfggpfc ' ' PERFE C TL Y SA TISFIED, " 165 which God's Spirit reveals as His work of sancti- ficution fjoes on." We are kindly allowed to insert two or three letters of this period. VViNTERDYNE, February 22, ICS75. Dl;ar Mr. - — — , 1 want to thank you for all your prayers for me. Only, only, have the i)rayers of my dear friends iield me baek from going to be with the Beloved One ? Or is it that lie lias some more little work for me to do, and so has only been richly answering all your );rayers in the " i)erfe<:t peace " in which He has kept me ? OIi, He has been so tenderly gracious to me ; it has been such gentle, faithful lovingkindness all through. It seems worth even coming back from the very golden gates if I may but in some way " tell of His faithfulness." I do wis'h people would but trust Jesus out and out, and give themselves up utterly to Him ; and then wouldn't they find rest to their souls ! But it will be a long waiting time yet, '*at least six months " says my doctor, before I may write or do anything. But now just see how wonderfully kind He is to me. He has taken my will as I gave it to Him, and now I really ^."i not conscious of even a wish crossing His will concerning me. I seem to be enabled to be "UFKCTLY satisfied with whatever He chooses, and it is so nice. This is all of Him, otlierwise I should fidget and kick ! Somehow, of late ; mean for many months, He seems not to have allowed the enemy to come near nic. From the hour my illness began I have only had one dark hour, and that was when 1 thought my special inaycr, '' that this sickness might be for the glory of q .• I '■^^^ i66 MEMORIALS OF F. R, //. God,'' had been denied, for I fe I bad not "glorified Him in the fires," because, after I had lost all my strength, I could not bear the pain without moaning and crying out, and showing eagerness for remedies. But He so tenderly assured me of pardon, and gave me " He knovveth our frame," that even thvit cloud soon passed. In this second illness He has mercifully spared me any recurrence of such pain, only laying upon me discomfort enough to exercise the pati&nce wliich has perhaps been His chief lesson for me. Perhaps you and other dear friends will be disappointed. I know you expect that the Master will give me new and fuller messages for others after all this. But I really do not know what He has been teaching me ; I do not seem conscious (at present) of having gained anything for others ; it has been just lying fallow. For myself I feel as if it had intensified my trust ; I do trust Him utterly, and feel as if I could not help Trusting Him ; it seems to *' come natural " now ! And *' 1 will fear no evil " seems a natural sequence ; what should I fear ? There is no terror in anything when " safe in the arms of Jesus," and nothing c;in take me out of them. The marvellous way in which God has inclined you especially, and others too, to pray for me does seem such a token of His incom- prehensible love to me, that I see I need an eternity to jn-aise Him to my heart's content ! Now, dear friend, I am asking Him that, somehow, and in His own time, He would graciously let me, even me, be the means of some new sweet blessing to you, perhaps to your people too, as a tiny return for all your loving prayers for me. Do you think that the Lord does show unto His servants things which must shortly come to pass ? It was BLESSED AND BLESSING. 167 SO strange that, while perfectly well and strong in Swit- zerland, I had a constant presentiment that some form of physical suffering would be the next step in His dealings with me, that His loving wisdom would see it needful for me. But I had not a vestige of fear or shrinking ; I rather felt I could welcome it, if it might but make me more " meet for the Master's use." So I was not a bit surprised when the illness came. How infinitely blessed it is to be entirely Christ's ! To think that you and I are never to have another care or another fefcr, but that Jesus has undertaken simply everything for us ! And isn't it grand to have the privilege of being His instruments ? It does seem such loving condescension ti:at He should use us. I don't know when I shall get downstairs ; much too weak as yet. l>ut I am in no hurry. He will give me strength at the right time. Yours, etc., etc. 1 I; WiNTERDVNE, February 1875. Dfar Mr. , Your letter came on the evening of a day of more than usual languor, after a bad night, and it was spiritual salvolatile to me ! I am so glad to hear of your ten. Many thanks for your remembrance of me on Wednes- day evening, and for letting me have the pleasure of joining you. Will you tell your "band" that God seemed to put it into my heart, in a very sj^ecial way, to pray that they all might be soul-winners, and at once f No waiting for further orders, they have got their commission ncmi : ** let him that heareth say, Come ! " And I prayed i^mg at Acts iv. 29, 30, for them; "grant unto Thy servants," etc. But there must be power from on high, I I I w mi u m i6S MF MORTALS OF F. A\ II. Ill or thc7 arc hcli)less ; and I asked that lliis nii^ht be given. Then, I think the Master gave nie a special text for them, will you ask tlicm to take it each one as from Him : " Behold I give you power over all the i)0wer of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means hurt you." Why, it is i:;rand \ "power ovjr all the poiver of the enemy!" Jusi wliere he is strongest, there they shall prevail ; not Ov'cr his weak points and places, but over the very focus of his power ; not over his power here and there, or now and then, but over al! his power. And Jesus said it ! Isn't it enough to go into any battle with! And it is not future ; not " I 7mll give,"' but present, now. " I i^ive unto you," " unto you,'' to every one whom He sends out, to every one of your dear " ten," if they will but put out the hand of faith to take it. , One hardly seems to need any addition to this, and yet His tender love adds the personal assurance, " nothing shall by any means hurt you." Nothing, really and absolutely nothing ! So there is not the least loophole left for the shadov/ of a fear to steal in. No end to the promise, it won't leave olT, good for every day and moment all along, " till glory." Now, with such a clear commission and such an inspiring promise, which of your *' ten " will be content to let another day pass without an attack upon "the power of the enemy"? When shall I hear of the victories that must follow ? You will tell me of them, won't you ? I want each one of your " ten " to begin at once to work out with God the fulfilment of Isaiah xlix. 25, so that numbers of captives may be delivered from the enemy, and led as blessed, willing, rejoicing captives in the triumph of Jesus Christ. I should like also to send to your " loving F " " more than conc^uerors through 1 "A GLORIOUS life:' 169 Iliin tliat loved us," and to your '* little S "Jeremiah i. 7. Why, only think if he begins winnin.^ souls at fourteen, and goes straight on, (Clod sparing him,) what splendid sheaves he will have to lay at the Master's I'eet ! Will you ask them to send me a text for myself. In what I have said I need hardly say I do not forget the other side, that '* no man can come to Me except," etc. and so on \ but then is not the seeking and obtaining His l)ower a proof that we are on the track of His pur[ioses ? "Tiiy people shall be willing in the day of Tiiy power," and it is only in "Thy power " that we ho})e to succeed. I rejoice in your joy in Him. How L,'ood He is to us ! I never find that He fiiils to respond to trust ; it is indeed '■'- 7vhatsoevcr^' in its fulness. And now I see tiiat ** able " means able^ and " all " means all. Do you not find that, even in proportion as we realize this marvellous power upon us and in us, we realize as never before our utter dependence upon it, and utter weakness without it, and our utter vileness and sinful- ness were the cleansing power of His precious blood withdra\/n for one moment ! But why should we ever refuse to believe in its glorious fulness? (t John i. 7.) I keep wondering every day what new lovingkindness is coming next ! It is such a glorious life ! And the really leaving everything to Him is so inexpressibly sweet, and surely He does arrange so much better than we could for ourselves, when we leave it all to Him. Dear J- {ToJ. E./,) I realize, " Lord, I have given my life to Thee, and every day and hour is Thine." For, literally, every hour ■ » it ii< I-, I ' I m 170 MEMORIALS OF F. R, //. seems in His hand, and filled with His work in some form or other, either preparation, actual service, or, as now, weakness and pain. It is quite marvellous how He really seems answering my prayer that He would accept my whole life, down to its very moments. ... It always seems to me the worst compliment possible to our dear Church of England, when a certani class of minds regard anything which has a little extra life, and love, and warmth, and glow, as being, well — suspicious f As if we are never to ask, and never to expect, and never to hm^e any such extra blessing as He is pouring out in our very midst I m In April, 1875, it was thought desirable that my sister should try change of air; and on the 3rd the Winterdyne servants gathered round for fare- well words, and she thanked them warmly for all their kindness, adding : " It was a great comfort, in my illness, the way in which you waited upon me; I saw you never grudged the trouble I gave you ; tJiat would have distressed me. Remember, God's promises are for each of you ; faith is just holding out your hand, and taking them. It is what I am learning every day ; it makes nie happy, and I want all of you to be always happy, trusting in the Lord Jesus." One inscription written in the books she gave them is : " Fanny HoUoway, with the writer's warm thanks for her great kindness and atten- J CflANGE OF SCF.ME. 171 tion during her illness at Wintcrdyne, January to Ai)ril, 1875. 'Inasmuch.' (Matt. xxv. 40.)" A short drive to Oakhampton, and there all the comforts of her eldest sister's pleasant home awaited her. Frances' constant consideration for the servants, wherever she visited, secured the most loving service. Bible readings i-. the servants' halls, kind talks alone, and helpful piayers are all remembered. The large reference Bibles she gave them are treasured remembrances of this visit. She was delighted when i .cry servant at Oakhampton joined the Christian Progress Union. I {Jo J. T. W.) Dear Mr. W- Oakhampton, Apn7 1875. I see now ! And the whole thing is brightened up splendidly! I , oth meant myself, and took your re- marks to apply, to "fallow" as to service and i)repara- tion for service; and so, while I re. d them with great interest and pleasure, I did not get the full benefit of them, because I said, " Oh yes, but I am all right on this point ! " But I was all wrong on the point you aimed at, and by your second letter /lif. I see that "lamenting" and "trusting" are not compatible; and that, while I fancied I was trusting for everything, I was not trusting as to His spiritual dealings with me, and that I might rest as satisfied about this as about all else. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // !!!! 1.0 I.I ■A£12.8 112.5 13 US u no IL25 mi 1.4 1^ m 1.6 V] /5 /^ V '/ /A Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MSEC (716) S73-4S03 \ ^^ ^' •^ <^ o\ '<^ '^^ ' ,''< 1 M"!! 1! ■■ 172 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. Yes, I " could not read His prescription," but I can now take it without trying to spell it. I see that my growth in grace is His affair, and that He is certainly taking care of it, even though I don't see it. Only, I am so sorry I did not trust Him perfectly; it makes me feel that I shall henceforth mistrust myself more than ever, and yet trust Him more than ever. I am beginning to taste a little bit of the real blessed- ness of waiting. One does not wait alone, for He waits too. Our waiting times are His also. I have been so delighted with the two "waits" in Isaiah xxx. 18, surely it implies a fellowship of waiting. (To the same.) April, 1875. I must just begin a letter to you. Intercourse, even by letter, with real and dear Christian friends, is one of the pleasures which one only sips here, but don't you think it will be a great delight above? I have been thinking how nice it will be to have a long talk with you in heaven, in the grand leisure of eternity, and interchange the blessed things which the Master will (I suppose) be showing and saying to each, with just as much individuality of revelation as here. Perhaps I look forward to this peculiarly, because I have so very many congenial Christian friends whom I rarely see, and correspondents, known and unknown, with whom I cannot have the intercourse I would; and, owing to my delicate health, there have always been so many interruptions to communications, and of late so much entire isolation. But I think you probably have the same keen anticipation, for you can't have time on earth I i fe: ^^ 1 f ii^\i^^ PATIENT ENDURANCE, »73 for much " sweet counsel " ! And how well we can afford to wait for some of our "good things " ! Nearly nine months, since I was last at morning family worship ! I was in almost too great spirits about it, which is not good for me, and of course I had to subside, and go and lie down for a considerable part of the morning ; still it was quit? an epoch ! After four months' illness and weakness, I am told that I must not expect to be able for any sort of work for at least six months longer ; but I do not feel one regret. Somebody wrote to me about resignation the other day ; but I don't feel as if the word suited at all ; there is an undertone of " feeling it rather hard nevertheless " in it, of submitting to a will which is different from one's own. He has granted me fully to rejoice in His will, I am not conscious of even a wish crossing it ; I do really and altogether desire that His will may be done, whatever it is. It was so sweet, when my second illness began, to lie down under His dear hand, not knowing how long or how much I might have to. suffer, but perfectly happy and trustful about it, and quite satisfied that He should do with me just as He would. Oh, isn't it good of Him to have wrought this for me ! This terrible pain, — I cannot feel that I wish it taken away a day sooner than His far-sighted faithful love appoints This morning I opened on Deuteronomy xxxii. 2, " My speech shall distil as the dew,'^ It seemed a direct answer from Him, for one does not see the dew fall, one never sees it at all till morning, and then ! So perhaps He is speaking to me more than I think for, and, when the " afterward " comes, it may be that I shall find He has said a good deal to me after all ! Yours ever. ; ;,, 11 Will m ii 174 MEMORIALS OF F. A\ H. {To the same.) I find (having fairly tried) that the whole gift of verse is taken from me. I think it will some day be restored (as once before after five years' suspension) ; but at present I could not write a hymn or poem. Thus God proves to me it is directly from Him, not a power to be used at my will, but only when He will ; and I would rather have it so. But, even if I were in full vein, I only consciously write up to my own experience ; so, though I might write what you would like to see on "Rest and Brightness," I should have to leave out praise for "power," because I do not feel that, as yet, God has ever endued me with that. It is not " come, see, and conquer," as to souls, with me as it is with you. I knov/ some of my words do not fall to the ground, but most of them do ; and the blessing which He does seem to send with my printed writings, and sometimes with my letters, does not seem to me quite the same thing as the blessed " p6wer " which some have. That reminds me, this morning I read 2 Corinthians iv. in the Greek, and was so wonderingly happy over that " far more exceeding weight of glory." I had not specially noticed the Greek before, how magnificently far reaching and strong it is ! I suppose '■''frotn glory to glory " is even here and now, and then to go beyond this to an eternal weight of glory, and then for this to be Koff vTrep/SoXrjv eh VTrep^oXrjv, is such a marvellous leading on of finite thought into infinite glory ! It is like those flights that one now and then takes from planets to suns, and suns to star systems and cycles, and then away to the farthest nebulae, and then one sees no end, for imagination and analogy go on •• THE DEAR OLD IRISH SOCIETY:' 175 till they get lost in infinity. But to think that we are actually going right into all this glory, and have actually begun with it; having the earnest of the purchased possession now^ and absolute certainty of all of it before long ! What are flights among stars and nebulre com- pared to this ! I have not thought it out, but I feel a connection between this and the Greek in Ephesians iii. 19. {To J. G. M. Kirchhoffer.) Dear Julia, — May 9. Thank you very much for your very pretty little ballad, and for the leaflets. I shall watch your pen, if we live, with much interest, and pray that you may be enabled to consecrate it, always and entirely, to our beloved Master. You will need to be very watchful, for Satan will try to sow tares among your wheat, and to introduce aelf into what we want to be only lor Christ. But His grace is sufficient, and if He keeps you, by that grace, hunable and looking unto Him, the gift He entrusts to you will be help to yourselt, and I hope to many others, and the enemy will not be able to turn it into a hindrance. I am so glad you have been at work already for the dear old Irish Society, and with such thorough good will. Will you make it a matter of prayer ? It is often wonderf i what unexpected opportunities God gives us when we ask. I have so often found it so in collecting for this very thing. Your taking the card was an answer to myself, for I was feeling rather disheartened that day in the work, and prayed that I might have some extra bit of success at last, cs a token for good. And then you consented to collect^ where I only looked for a V.'. m '1 \a ■! ;|:i|i:v:f I n ■liiiii 11 176 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. single subscription. I am afraid it will be, still, a long time before I come home, but I hope to see you and your kind friends when I do. I send you one of my favourite texts, "He is precious." Think of the absolute "/>," always and unspeakably precious, whether we realize it or not. How little we know of His preciousness yet, but how much there is to know, and how much we shall know ! Press on then to find more of His preciousness. Yours affectionately. {Extracts from Letters to Miss E. J. Whately.) June 1875. .... Though I have had plenty of invalided times, and of short sharp suffering, this has been my very first experience of really severe and prolonged illness (since October) ; and I do not merely think I ojight to feel, but I DO feel, that it was the crowning blessing of a year of unprecedented blessing and yet of many trials. ** Great is Thy faithfulness " shines on every day of it ; and " I will fear no evil " is more than ever a very song to me. It was as if, while laying His own dear hand ever so heavily upon me. He kept the enemy completely at a distance, and did not let him even approach me, encompassing me with a wall of fire. . . . For three or four weeks I was too prostrate for any consecutive prayer, or for even a text to be given me ; and this was the time for realizing what " silent in love " meant (Zeph. iii. 17). And then it seemed doubly sweet whc.i I was again able to " hold converse " with Him. He seemed; too, so often to send answers from His own word with wonderful power. One evening, (after a re- lapse,) I longed so much to be able to pray, but found I WAITING " WITir HIM. 177 was too weak for the least effort of thought, and I only looked up and said, " Lord Jesus, I am so tired ! " And then He brought to my mind " rest in the Lord," with its lovely marginal reading, " be silent to the Lord," and so I just was silent to Him, and He seemed to over- flow me with perfect peace, in the sense of His own perfect love. It was worth anything to lie and think that it might be really " the Master's home call " ; but I do think it was worth almost more to find, when the tide turned, that He had really taken the will I had laid at His feet, and could and did takeaway all the disappoint- ment which I had fancied must be so keen at being turned back from the golden gates. I was more aston- ished at finding that He could make me quite as glad and willing to live and suffer, as to go straight away to heaven, than at anything, I think. And it is just the same now. I have no idea how long I may have to wait, for (though not now ill, but only invalided), what with relapses and results, I am making very slow progress, and not likely to be able for any sort of work for months yet : but I do so feel the truth of " blessed are they that wait for Him." It seems a necessary sequence of the first part of the verse, "therefore will the Lord wait," for waiting for Him is waiting with Him. I am breaking rules in writing so much, but I could not help wanting to tell you how very kind He has been to me, and I don't think any Christian could be more utterly unworthy than I of such gentle, gracious dealing. I doubted and mistrusted Him for so many years, and what I used to call " terrible conflict " I now see to have been simple unbelief. . . . . It is so nice to meet those with whom one is in full sympathy. One meets so many who only go N !'■?*' i:i \a M \mwm'' •.v-t 178 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H. such ^ little way ; I mean really Christians, yet taking such faint interest in Christ's cause and kingdom, all alive as to art, or music, or general on-goings, yet not seeming to feel the music of His name. One does so long for all who are looking to Him for salvation to be "true-hearted, whole-hearted." And I have been think- ing how inevitably such half-hearted Christians will be at a disadvantage when *' He cometh," as compared with those whose whole gladness is from Him only, and whose whole interests are centred in His kingdom and that which advances it. With the return of health came a return to work. Her quick sympathy and loving help, by vi^ord and by letter, can hardly be represented. " Aunt Fanny always understands me " indicates the source of her influence. Pencil notes of hers, which are really treasures, lie before me, but only glimpses may be given. {In the train) September 29, 1875. My own dear " Little Thing ", — . . . I have been thinking so much and so sadly of the hint you gave me. . . . We must be much in prayer about it. For yourself, dear little thing, whatever the near bothers or the far griefs may be, you and all your " matters " are in the dear Saviour's hand, and He says, " My grace is sufficient for thee," and I like to take a still simpler Saxon word and say, " My grace is quite enough for thee." Yes, " quite enough," dear, for all the sorrows and all the trials, litde ones as well as n REST AND TRUST. 179 great, and all the weakness and all the insufficiency and all the coldness and hardness of heart, quUe enough for you in spite of all I (To the same.) Dearest " Little Thing ", — Let the Lord lead you, let Him have you altogether. And, dear pet, blessing hardly ever comes alone ; if He has the joy of winning you altogether for Himself, He won't stop there. He will do more. He is doing so here. I do trust two of the servants are resting and trusting, and I quite hope the gardener has laid hold on eternal life; and I am expecting more for the angels to rejoice over. ... I feel most deeply for you. Keep very close to Jesus, my darling, and ask Him never to let you take back what you have now given Him. Be His entirely, without any reserve, and He will be yours entirely. . . . My own " Little Thing ", — If you knew how glad we all are ! But, better still, I know Jesus is glad. He wanted you, or He would not have drawn you. And now, dearie, just rest in Him. Listen to all He has to say, and you will find He has "somewhat to say to thee" every time you open His word. Listen, and obey whatever He says (John ii. 5). Mr. Mountain said, " our souls should be like aspen leaves, responsive to the least breath of the Spirit." Dear litde thing, be one of the Lord's aspen leaves ; don't wait for great strong blasts, but yield to the least whisper from Him of " this is the way, walk ye in it." And, now, expect great things ! You don't know what ;i'^,i. li!;l!l ! !"i|' ;:»: Wl |)r l.||illl ''^.: i8o MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. He is going to astonish you with. " Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it." Go to work for Him at once, put your little sickle in, and see if the Lord does not make the sheaves fall before it ! Don't hold back from letting Him use you. Your blessing will probably, if you are quite faithful with it, result in fresh blessing all around you to those who have been blessed already, and who knows what to those who do not yet know the fulness of the blessing ! Keep trusting the Lord Jesus, or rather let Him keep you trusting, and draw every word from Him ; ask Him always, all day long, what to do, what to say. Pray Mr. Aitken's prayer : " Lord, take my lips and speak through them ; take my mind and think through it ; take my heart and sel it on fire ! " Your loving aunt. P.S. — Yes, sing for Jesus ! do all ia the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. (To a H.) Dear Clement, — You are all alone, so I must send you a line. How- ever, you will not find it very dismal in this lovely weather and the bright look out of seeing your dear ones. Last evening I was at a young women's meeting, and asked to sing, so I prayed the dear Master would let me bring them a message of song from Himself. There are so many " all for Jesus " Christians here. Seriously, dear Clement, if that is indeed our heart's motto, we find that Jesus is all for us, and all in all to us. I hit upon two little texts yesterday which fitted together beautifully. First, a prayer, " Do Thou for me, O Lord," did you ever notice it ? " do Thou," just what- ever wants doin^ for us or in us, just whatever we ''DON'T HOLD BACK!'' iSi cannot do at all for ourselves. Then, if we really pray this, we shall follow it up with " God that performeth all things for me ! " Think of His simply doing every t/iin^ for you and me. What can we wish more ? Your loving aunt. "Don't hold back from letting Him use you!" Loyal words, often repeated. A friend in Leam- ington remembers showing F. R. H. a letter she had received from Miss Weston, asking her to write " Monthly Letters for Seamen." Frances read the letter and said to Mrs. B., " What are you going to do } Accept it of course ! " Mrs. B. " I am not fit for such a work. I know nothing of ships and sailors." F. " If you reject it, God does not want for instruments to do His work ; don't shrink from the honour He puts upon you." Such was her faithful encouragement. (To .) Ashley Moor, September 1875. I can hardly say I am sorry for you, dear friend, although you tell me of suffering and trial, and although I feel very much for you in it ; because I am so sure the Master is leading you by the right way, and only means it to issue in all the more blessing. What mistakes we should make if we had the choosing, and marked out nice smooth paths for our friends ! It has struck me too, very much lately, that the Lord's most used and blessed V ft'>s 11, ,i',H;: ra .]' ' ill '. i* »:,; -^:f r 182 MEMO AVALS OF F. R. //. workers are always almost 7veighted in some way or other. I don't know one who, to our limited view, is not work* ing under weights and hindrances ot some sort, contrast- ing with mere professors who seem so much more favour- ably placed for what they dotH do. . . . I am so very glad that He did not answer prayer for my recovery all those eight months of illness ; why I should have missed all sorts of blessing and precious teaching if He had ! But when one feels that He Him- self gives *' the prayer of faith," then I would pray it " nothing doubting." After the 14th, my address will be Post Office, Whitby, Yorkshire. I am so thankful and rejoiced at what you tell me about the two ladies \ it is so gracious of Him to use my hymns. Yours, in His grace and love. In the autumn of 1875 Frances went to Whitby with Mr. and Mrs, Shaw ; en route she visited Miss Sadler and her sister, the friends of early days. She also enjoyed a visit to York Minster, and a pleasant interview with Dr. Dykes. It was at Whitby she heard, in the noon prayer meeting, the petition of a working man, " Father, we know the reality of Jesus Christ." The same evening she wrote the poem : " Reality, Reality, Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me." (71? E, C.) ^^^HITBV, September. ... So singular ! you know I have not been able to write verses at all for a long time, but reading a ,ii^P ('*■'' same /isiis" -, and, to go on with, your whole Bible does not contain one word about His giving less grace, but always and only " more grace." If He gave you blessing last week, it is only an earnest of MORE, if you "open your mouth," etc. '^ Ahvays more to follow." Your loving aunt. (To/. T. IV.) The Leasowes, -<4'/;77 9, 1876. It seems to come natural to send you whatever odds and ends come out, so I enclose this last leaflet, "I could not do without Him." I very seldom write at the suggestion of another, but a London worker said she so wanted an appeal to the outsiders based on my hymn " I could not do without Thee." So I told her she must pray if she wanted it, and I forthwith forgot all a^^out it. Three months after, a most strong and sudden sense came over me of " what can they, what 7vill they, do without Jesus ? " that I fnust write it ; and it was not until afterwards I recollected that this was the very thing that had been asked. And, on sending it, I found it was just at the right time for her special wish to dis- tribute it before one of Mr. Aitken's mission weeks ! It will be in Home Words for June, which means going ! : l»v*l 196 MEMORIALS OF F. h\ If. Straight to 300,000 homes, let alone leaflets and Anicricin copies. Somehow, I have felt able to ask groat blessings on this leaflet, though it is such a poor little simple thing, without a spark of poetry about it. Yours ever gratefully. I got just a glimpse of the marvellous indwelling of Father^ Son, and Holy Ghost last week ; it was so sweet and glorious ; I want to realize it always. (To/.G. Kirchhoffer.) April 9. Dearest Julia, — You deserve an immense long letter, and I have really only time for a few lines, as I am giving up my whole available time to work at the new edition of " Songs of Grace and Glory." Though your letter- case looks too pretty to use, yet I immediately adopted it for unanswered letters, putting in yours to begin with. Yours must be indeed a pretty home. It is not just words, but both wish and prayer, that it may be a happy one to you, and that you may make many around you happy and hapi)ier. Of course I mean this in the very fullest and deepest sense. Ever since I knew you, I have specially wished and prayed that you might entirely live for Jesus, and shine very brightly for Him. And you have immense responsibilities. Why not work out your " plan of education " as a little ballad? I think it would be a capital subject, and might be really useful. Send it to the Editor of The Children's Friend. (S. W. Partridge & Co.) As to imperfect scanning, I must try to answer seriously, for it is rather important to you. Never leave imperfect MUaiC-TliiRST. 197 scanning, to ..avc the trouble of nKikini; it perfect, never f I)isci|)line yourself for the next few years most sternly in this, and you will be thankful, later on, for the habit and facility whiqh it will give you. But irregular scanning may be used with great artistic effect, where you pur- posely wish to suggest abrupt, broken, startling, rugged, spasmodic, etc., effects. A good critic will easily detect the difference between the devices of an artist and the negligence or clumsiness of a tyro in this matter. I have an idea that metre answers to key in music, and that one may introduce modulation of metre exactly as one introduces modulation of key, and with similar mental effect. I have tried it in several recent longish poems, using different metres for different parts, and modulating from one into the other instead of passing directly. You will see what I mean in "The Sowers," where, instead of jumping direct into the rather jubilant metre of the last part, I work up to it through " One by one no longer," etc. I must not scribble more. Yours lovingly. (To the same.) Pyrmont Villa, Monday. Dear Julia,— How I do wish I had known ! It would have been the most exquisite pleasure to have come to sing to you. I know that longing for music so well, though I do not think many know what it is. Sometimes I have thought that this very " music-thirst " is part of God's gentle discipline, leaving us with that thirst instilled, just that we may turn afresh to that which stills all longings, the '.■{[. 9 si'Liii'' ■! i' inl 'K iMtt 198 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. music of His name. I have had plenty of verses headed **F. R. H.," but I am teUingyou the truth when I say that 1 never had any which touched me more, or gave me such a thrill of loving fellow-feeling towards the writer. Thank you very much for sending them to me. Now I have a request. Will you give me a copy of your extremely good verses on the recovery of the Prince of Wales. . , . (To the same.) Many thanks, not only for the enclosure, but for your most amusing note. N.B. — It is only fair to tell you that you and Ellen Lakshmi Goreh are the solitary ones, out of any number of dozen possible geniuses, whose " efforts " I have seen or had to do with, in whom I do believe. I have come across no others who, I honestly believe, may have a ** future " in the literary part of the vineyard. This may show you I am not quite indiscriminate ! and perhaps add weight to the encouragement which I want to give you, and the seriousness of the hope and aim before you. My sister's expectations were correct ; but Miss Kirchhoffer's early death left, as it were, only a prelude to what might have been a life of son^'- * (See Appendix, page 354.) 'ts- The following shows how faithfully she pointed out the inconsistency of some conversation. ♦ *♦ Poems and Essays." By Julia G. M. Kirchhoffer. Paisley: J. and R. Parlane. *l A SPECIAL BA TTLE- FIELD. 199 Tuesday^ 7 a.m. My dear , As I have already had one bad night, and several troubled wakings, all z^oovX you, I had better get it off my mind. I write to you as one who is really wanting to follow Jesus altogether, really wanting to live and speak EXACTLY according to His commands and His beautiful example ; and when this is the standard, what seems a litde thing, or nothing at all, to others, is seen to be sin^ because it is disobeying His dear word and not " follow- ing fully y " Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye eve7i so to them." Now, darling, be true to yourself, and to Him, as to these His own words. Would you like any one to retail, and dwell upon, little incidents which made you appear weak, tiresome, capricious, foolish? Yet, dear, everything which we say of another which we would not like them to say of us, (unless said with some right and pure object which Jesus Himself would approve,) is transgression of this distinct command of our dear Lord's, and there- fore sin^ — sin which needs nothing less than His blood to cleanse, sin in which we indulge at our peril and to the certain detriment of our spiritual life. And Jesus hears every word, and sees, to the depth, the want of real con- formity to His own loving spirit, from which they spring. r3o not think I am condemning you without seeing my own failures. It is just because it is a special battle-field of my own that I am the more pained and quick to feel it, when others, who love Jesus, yield to the templation or do not see it to be temptation. I know the temptation it is to allow oneself to say things which one would not say if the person were present, yes, and if Jesus were visibly II 200 MEMOJ^IALS OF F. R. II. present. And I have seen and felt how even a moment- ary indulgence in the mildest forms of "speaking evil," which is so absolutely forbidden, injures one's own soul, and totally prevents clear, unclouded communion with Jesus. So I want you to recognise and shun and reso- lutely and totally " put away " this thing. I should not write all this but that I 'ong for your eyes to be opened to the principle^ for others' sakes, for your own soul's sake, and for Christ's sake. I want you to pray over it, to search bravely to the bottom, and to put it all into the hands of Jesus, that He may not only for- give but cleanse, and so fill you with His love that it (and nothing else) may overflow into all your words, that He may " make you to increase and abound in love . . . to the end He may establish your heart unhlameable i?t ho/mess^ Oh, if you knew how I pray for this for myself, you would not wonder at my anxiety about it for you and for others! So don't be vexed with, Yours ever lovingly, {To E. C.) 1876. . . . This seems a great and solemn step. I could never lift up my finger against what locks so like a call from God, though you would seem a long way otf from us, and would be much mourned and missed from your Bewdley work. You know how I have always desired, with you, to lay out one's life at t/ie best interest for God ; and, of course, if you can do ten per cent, ot work at Rome, and only five per cent, among the Severn fogs, that is to my mind a strong argument. ... I send you ** I will direct their work in truth," and He iviU direct. Have you thought of work in Syria ? LETTERS. 201 {To the same.) Although dear Miss Nott told me she thought you were thinking of Zenana work in India, I did not expect this ! Whether Rome or India, I quite think you are one of those so situated that ycu are "free to serve," and that the question may be wholly between you and God. . . . I am specially glad it is that Society ; it is decidedly my favourite, and I have been interested in it for fifteen years. Dear Elizabeth, I feel so solemnly glad about all this ; I myself seem, more and more, a " cumberer," so I am the more glad when others are able for more service than Yours lovingly. I 1^ {^To the same.) ... It often strikes me *as one of the wonderful wheels of God's providence that He lays different parts of His work on different hearts, brings one nearer to the focus of one worker's vision and another to another, and thus all the different things get taken up. ... I had only thought of the disappointment it would be, if you were prevented going to India ! I suppose, partly, be- cause I do not feel separation so keenly as you would, and partly because all my life it has been a sort of "castle in the air" to be a missionary, only that the door for me seemed always closed by the state of my health ; and, even with my many ties, it would be nothing like the sacrifice to me that it will be to you. I shall long to hear that the Lord has made the way quite clear, and set before you an open door. •I if' ■■ »:' 1 \^'^''U'i^ mi '0i 202 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. June 1876. During a visit to her brother Frank, at Upton Bishop Vicarage, she was much interested in his schools and cottages. Every day she went about from house to house, reading the Bible and telling in simple words of God's love in sending Jesus Christ to save sinners. In one instance, at a garden party, my sister's happy face attracted a young Stranger, so that she sought conversation with her. Often have I been told : " F. R. H. looks so really happy, she must have something we have not." (With the utmost skill, no artist or photograph gives a real idea of her lighted up expression. Is it because soul cannot be represented any more than a sunbeam )) And my pen fails, too, in giving an idea to strangers of her sunny ways, merrily playing with children, and heartily enjoying all things. But her deep sympathy with others' joys and sorrows, and her loyal longings that all should know the "joy unspeakable and full of glory," were the secret of her influence with others. I may mention that her singing from Handel's " Messiah," accompanying herself on her brother's organ, after service on her last Sunday evening at Upton Bishop, will long be remembered by all who heard. The old parish clerk remarked, " I never heard the like of that before." Frances then be- came the first contributor to a fund for erecting a !<' ^ ',! -L_ WORK AND VISITATION. ao3 vestry. (Since her death it has been determined that this vestry shall be specially " in memory of F. R. H." Her brother has also had her name cast in a new treble bell, thus completing the peal of six.) Her own words seem to describe passing events and visits better than others cap, and therefore we again copy from them. {To Margaret W.) . , . I came to Newport with the idea of not being responsible for any one's soul at all ! I enjoyed the first three days in a general sort of way, but no real gain to myself. I declined addressing the Y. VV. C. A. meeting, but was present and was asked to sing. I sang my arrangement of Isaiah xii. After a few more words, and prayer from Mr. \V , I sang for them " When thou passest." * After that I had to shake hands with many. It was all very nice, but not real work. I felt dissatisfied, notwithstanding the affectionate greetings and thanks for singing. Saturday I said I should like to go to work, and went with Mr. W to the Infirmary, In the women's ward I read and prayed and sang, and then spoke to each alone. I saw there was sowing and reaping work wanted, and many entreated me to come again. When I went again God sent much blessing. One, very suffer- ing, and who had a most distressed expression the day before, had found peace soon after I left her. She lay !l' • " When thou Passest through the Waters." Music by F. R. H. London : Hutchings and Romer. iililfsvijj 204 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. looking so happy, saying, " I 've left it all with Him now, and oh it's so beautiful ! " Another, a moping groping Christian, told me that the words God helped me to say to her lifted her straight up into the sunhght. Before I left the ward, I do think another was enabled by God's Spirit to trust in the Lord Jesus. From that time, it pleased God to send such continuous blessing. But (I hardly know how it began, I think from my own couplet " . . . let me sing. Always, only, for my King," in connection with that Thursday evening) somehow I felt that on both sides, singer and listeners, it was not really " only for Him," but too much of F. R. H. That word ^'■only'" seemed to be pressed on my own heart. I saw it as I never saw it before, and that the ** all for Jesus " must be supplemented and sealed with " only for Jesus." It was a great and humbling revela- tion to me of failure in full consecration, where I really did not see it before ; and of course I dare not and wouM not hold back from accepting and following, at any cost, what I felt God's Holy Spirit was teaching me. I felt I could not, and would not, sing again the next Thursday as before, and that I must pass on tins **^«/y" to the Y. W. C. A. Then I had copies printed of the Consecration Hymn, and had my name left out, and a blank line instead for the signature, which each might fill up alone and p yerfully. At the meeting, Mr. W opened it and then went away. Then I told them I had meant to sing them beautiful songs of Handel, but I could not and dare not ; that I could not, after what my King had shown me last week, sing even pardy to please them, it must be ''only for my King." Then I told them about this " only," not CON^ECIL-i 7/0:\' MEETING. 205 merely totality of surrender but exclusiveness of allegiance, and how I wanted every one th'^re to take this step with me that night, and to accept with me " only for Jesus," as our life motto, henceforth. To keep my word as to singing, I just sang '' Precious Saviour, may I live only for Thee " * (to " Onesinuis "'). After prayer, I resumed the subject and then distributed the Consecration Hymns (very systematically done in one minute without dis- turbance) ; and, after running through it, asked those and those only to sign tneir names who meant it. Oh, M , it was such singing, one felt it was so real ! Then I gave an interval of silent prayer which I felt was a time of real consecration. I was sure of His presence, so sure that He was bowing the hearts before Him by the Holy Spirit's power. Was it not strange t at the tirst " consecration meeting " I ever came in for should have been in my own hands ? After, I gave each at the door " Enough." I hardly liked giving my own leaflets, but I really couldn't think of anything else just suitable for what I wanted. One, whom I had spoken to after church on Sunday evening, stayed to tell me how bright her hope continued ; but she needn't have spoken^ the change of expression was quite enough to tell. Well, dear M , I felt there had been real blessing. As days went on, Mr. and Mrs. W saw numbers of those who were there, and who testified that they had really been helped and had gained a step onward by God's grace. Then, I could tell you much of some dear boys who !i ■ * Hymn 695 ia ** Songs of Grace and Glory." 206 MEMORIALS OF F, R. H. Mm 1 1 isH.: ; « t % i fl m\ -I ;i l< : CHAPTER XII. (1877.) Letters — The mystery of pain — The Lord's graving tool — Loyal letters — "Won't you decide to-night?" — Manhood for Christ's service — Splendid promises — "My silver and my gold" — Mildmay : its intercessions, greetings, hushing power — A crumb from the King's table — The Christian Progress Union. OUR only available sources, for a record of many months in 1877, are my dear sister's letters. (To Elizabeth Clay.) ... , Shall we not find that all parts of our lives will prove to have been training for whatever is our truest work even on earth, and also for the heavenly service to which one, more and more, looks forward ? But the bits of wayside work are very sweet. Perhaps the odd bits, when all is done, will really come to more than the seem- ingly greater pieces ! the chance conversations with rich or poor, the seed sown in odd five minutes, even the tables-d'-hote for me, and the rides and friends' tables for you. It is nice to know that the King's servants are always really on duty, even while some can only stand and wait. Your going to India seems a very special " boring of the ear." How curiously your path and mine have diverged ; your going to do great things for GcJ, ' is LETTERS. 227 and I able for less and less. My hope that, at last this winter, I might be allowed one Bible class at home is un- certain ; ditto my choir practice, as I am to avoid cold and fatigue. Everybody is so sorry for me except myself ! For the same peace which will be yours in work will be mine in waiting ; and the very fact of having a busy and active nature, with no proclivity for dolcc far nieiite, seems to make the rest under God's felt restraints so much the more really His doing. (7^ the same.) 1877. Best wishes for your first birthday in India, and i Chronicles iv. 2;^,'^t/iere they d velt with the King for His work," "t/iere'* is Amritsur fc*- you. How specially it is for His work that you are there ! I send you a lovely little book by Miss Elliott. ... I feel how very precious your time will be in acquiring the language ; and, if you spent an hour writing to me, I should feel like David did about the water of the well at Bethlehem. I have but little physical strength ; perhaps He withholds tlie active service ; and also I see His wisdom in, all along, having held me back from any chance of Con- ferences, or hearing any speakers of any sort for several years past (with the sole exception of the Mildmay Con- ference in 1874). For, if I had, I should have learnt from man, and should almost necessarily have echoed what I heard from others, in what I write. (To .) I think that, during certain stages of Christian life and experience, pain is always a mystery. And so lotig it is I ■1 'i ^-ii ■ i : I'. •t ji^'l «i!« m . i ■ ^i 228 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. a grand trial of trust in God's perfect wisdom and love and rv^htness. " His work is perfect ' : Deut. xxxii. 4. (But wait patiently till you have had, first, some years of pastoral work, and, second, some personal expedience of great pain ; and then you will see^ To myself the whole thing is clear as sunshine, but tenfold clearer since the intense pain through which He has led me of late. I would not have foregone that teaching for anything ! I. Pain, as to outsiders, is no mystery when looked at in the light of God's holiness, and in the light of Cal- vary, The deeper our views of and hatred of sin (as the Holy Spirit's teaching in our hearts progresses), the more clear will all that is connected with sin become; and as, had there been no sin there would have been no pain, it is all, and more than all, deserved. I can say for myself that I feel I have deserved the very suffering of hell for my transgression of the first great commandment of the law, (" thou shalt love the Lord thy God," etc.,) and for my sin of unbelief. It is, further, a real proof of God's love. He cannot (being Love) e7ijoy the sight of suffering, it must be as much worse to Him than to you, as He is infinitely greater and more loving than you ! And yet He inflicts or permits it, that He may rouse, and warn, and check, and save. What thousands have blessed Him for the pain that came like a rough hand catching them as they fell over a preci- pice, hurting and pinching their very flesh, but saving their lives ! In how many ways a skilful doctor gives pain, that he may prevent much greater and worse suffering ! At the same time, I am quite S2ire that with very, very rare exceptions bodily pain, though far more trying to witness, is not anything to compare with mental pain, and LETTERS. 229 it leaves no sting or scar, as almost every other form of real trial must do. ( I am perhaps in a specially good position to judge of this point, because all my doctors agree in saying that, from my unusually finely strung nerves, I am and always shall be peculiarly sensitive to physical pain, and feel it far more keenly than ordinary people.) II. Pain, as to God's own children, is, truly and really, only blessing in disguise. It is but His chiselling, one of His graving tools, producing the likeness to Jesus for which we long. I never yet came across a suffering {real) Christian who could not t/ia?ik Him for pain ! Is not this a strong and comforting fact ? I do not say that they always do so during the very moments of keenest pain, though much more often than not I think they are able to do this ; but, certainly, they do deliberately praise Him for it afterwards. I think one must pass through it for oneself before one can fully realize the actual blessedness of suffering ; meanwhile, you may well take the testimony of those who have. Its conscious effects are to give one deeper feeling of one's entire weakness and helplessness, (a lesson which we are all slow to learn in health,) and of the real 7iothingness of eanhly aims and comforts, and the fleetingness and unsatisfactoriness of everything except Christ. Then, it drives one to Him each moment, one cannot bear it even one minute alone, one rnust lean and cling (and anything is blessed which does this ! ). And then, one finds that He is tender and gracious, that His promises are precious, that His presence is a reality even if unrealized ! (a true paradox !) Then, one has op- portunities which one could not otherwise have of learn- ing trust, and patience, and meekness ; it is a time of m 1 J -J :' |!i! ■.A,. ! .i;'i S! H 230 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. growing up into Him in these things. Then, one realizes more what it must have been to Jesus to endure real, actual> bodily pain^r us. I never saw such tremendous force in i Peter ii. 24 ("in His own body^^) as when suffering great pain myself; it seemed a new page of His love unfolded to me. I could write sheets more on the blessed teachings of pain, but if I did I should perhaps bring it on ! So far, the whole queslion of pain is rather one of sight than of faith to me now ; it has become so clear to me, as a part of God's great plan which could not be done without. But I find yet scope for faith beyond. I believe there is a mysterious connection between suf- fering here and actual capabilities of enjoyment hereafter, and that suffering here is training (I cannot tell how) for that glorious service above, to which I delight to look forward. But now look for yourself at what God's word says about it, and dwell on that instead of on your own thoughts about it, for His thoughts are not as your thoughts ; see Isaiah Iv. 8, 9. Look at 2 Corinthians iv. 17, 18; and then see how much more you can find in His word which bears on the subject. . . . Trust Jesus in and for everything. When a trial is past, one does so bitterly regret not having trusted Him en- tirely in it ; and one sees that we might as well have had all the joy and rest of perfect trust all along. {^To .) . , . I know that nothing short of the Holy Spirit's power can enable any one to accept God's way of salvation as a little child. ... I will tell you the two passages which have been the greatest help to me, two great anchors ""» ' III LETTERS. 231 which have stood many a strain of personal conflict and doubt: John v. 24 and i John v. 10, it. It does not matter what we suppose God might propose or declare ; it all hangs upon what has God said about it ? And can words be plainer than these two passages ? " He that believeth hath a^erlasting life.'' Only think deliberately out that those words must mean eiicrlasting life, for it would be a mockery and a lie to call it so if it might last only a day or a year. If the life which Jesus imparts (His own life by His Spirit) can come to an end to-morrow, it is not, cannot be, and never was, everlasting life at all ! Our natural life is even as a vapour, but this would be a poorer thing still, if it might be lost even sooner. " Everlasting " either means that which shall really last for ever, or it is a meaningless delusion and not worth the paper it is printed on. ^^ Hath :^^ it is never said shall have, but always the actual present possession by every one who believes, not always consciously but certainly. If you believe in Jesus as your only and all- sufficient Saviour, either you have at this moment ever- lasting life, a life which shall and can never perish ; or God is a liar. Don't you see the inevitable force of *'■ everlasting^^ } It w/^j7 be everything or nothing. Hrw can it be everlasting life, if it can be quenched in eternal death ? The two passages you mention present no diffi- culty at all. Philippians ii. 12, 13 seems to me clearly to imply that those to whom St. Paul wrote had got salva- tion as an actual possession, '■^ your ozon"; and, having got it, they are now to " work it out," i.e. to carry out all the details and consequences of it, act up to it. Give a man a great gold mine ; it is his, he has not got to work for it (it is all there, his very own), but only to work it I m n I!'*: 232 MEMORIALS OF F, R. H. out, draw upon it, and enjoy it. I think the figure holds good, for enjoyment seems to hold an almost invaiiahle proportion to work for Christ. I never knew any idle Christian really a rejoicing one (I do not of course speak of in -alids) ; and, conversely, if you see a man or woman, whatever their position, doing all they can for the cause of Christ, giving up time to work for Him, and trying hard to win others, either rich or poor, for Him, you may be almost certain that they are happy in Christ. (Mark, I do not say those who merely ride religious or benevolent hobbies, or who work for externals of religion, these are often as miserable as any ; but those who are -woxMvixg for Christ) Further, just look at the " for " inverse 13, and take the two verses together and you will see that it is all of God and not of us. As to i Corinthians ix. 27, why did you not see that the Greek dSdici/xos is literally and clearly " not approved," being simply the negative of Soki/xos. You cannot read the Greek word otherwise ; and how it came to be translated " cast- away " I can't imagine. I can wish you no greater blessing than that salvation maybe no longer a "theory" but a glorious reality to yon, constraining you henceforth to live unto Him entirely and joyfully. If you once get hold of this, everything will seem different 3 the false lights of the world will no longer throw their flickering, deceiving lights around you, but you will view and estimate all in the true light, the glorious light which makes the earthly delusions altogether unattractive, and the grand eternal realities appear what they are, just realities. But, whatever you do, don't delay ; go fully and most earnestly into the question at once ; a magnificent treasure is within your reach, dor't drift LETTERS. 233 away from it. If any other passage, or set of passages, present any dilTiculty to your mind, I wish you would let me know. Just one thing : this matter is not merely the intellectual acceptance of a theory, but also the accept- ance, by the hearty of God's loving and free offer and plan. It is a personal transaction between Christ and the sou), to be carried out alone with Him. {To a young friend.) You will not mind my writing to you ; you needn't feel obliged to answer. I hear you go back to school on Thursday; are you to go back doubtful, uneasy, fearful, dissatisfied, alone ? or, is it to be going back with Jesus, safe in Him, happy in Him ? When the Holy Spirit stirs up a heart to feel uneai;y, it is very solemn, because it is His doing; Satan will do his best to say " peace, peace, when there is no peace." It is very solemn, because it results either in grieving that loving Spirit by stifling His secret call, or in passing from death unto life ; .:he one or the other, I know of no other alter- native. Which shall it be ? Don't linger just outside the gate of the city of re: uge ; Just outside is danger, perhaps destruction ; you arc not safe for one instant till you are inside. And oh, have you ever thought that it is not merely negative, not merely not safe, but that unless your sins now are on Jesus they are no2v on you, and God's wrath is upon them and so upon you ? It is a tremen- dous question, " where are your sins ? " I do not stay to prove that they are somewhere, you have learnt that ; but now where are they ? On you, or on Jesus ? Oh, that He may now send His own faithful word about it 1 ;i I'i ! P ! 234 MEMORIALS OF F. R. U. with power to your soul, " the Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity of us all ! " Accept that, believe His word, venture your soul upon it, and " he that believeth hath everlasting life." I won't write more to-day ; all hinges on this question, " where are your sins ? " If on you, you are not safe one instant, there is but a step between you and hell, " the wrath of God abideth on him " ; it is awfully true, don't dare to sleep another night with con- demnation upon you. But if on Jesus (and He only asks you to believe that He has borne them, in His own body, on the tree, and that Jehovah hath laid them on Him^) then you are free, gloriously free ! They can't be on both ! If on Jesus, you are saved and have ever- lasting life, and you will prove it by " henceforth " being His entirely and living to Him. I desire and pray that the great question of your life, of your whole eternity, may be decided before you go back. It will be easier now than it ever can be again, if He ever gives you another call. {To the same.) , . . Let me say just this ; when one is really and utterly " all for Jesus," then and not till then we find Jesus is a/l for us, and all in all' to us. Now I want you to be " all for Jesus," I can't describe the happiness He puts into any heart that will only give itself up altogether to Him, not wishing to keep one single bit back. And I want you to have this, and to have it no7v ; not to wait till illness or great trouble come, and you feel driven at last to Him. No ! that is simply " too bad ! " Jesus says, "Come now/" not, "come when everything else has turned bitter." And if you come now, and sur- LETTERS. 235 render to Him now, you will have the peace now and the gladness now ; and I can tell you it is worth iiavinj;, because I /lave it, and so I knoiv it is. It is a grand thing to start out early, and be on the Lord's side all along. Oh, what an amount of sorrow it will save you if He gives you grace to do it ! But come tio7i>, for Jesus of Nazareth is passing by, and many are getting His blessing. Don't wait, either to get better or to feel worse/ (To the same.) I know you must have thought me very hard upon you on Friday morning : but what could I do ? I see you, a young, fresh life, redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, believing and owning what He has done for you, with grand possibilities of power in ///v cause, and I think endowed with special gifts of inlluence and attraction, one who might be, and do so much, for Jesus ; and, yet, Jesus does not come first I And y u know it might be otherwise and ought to be otherwise. You are "entangled" when you might be "free" in His "glorious liberty " ; you are unsatisfied, yes, and dissatisfied, and you might be *' abundanty satisfied." He has dealt bountifully with you, and now what shall you render to Him? Has not the practical answer been: "Just as much as I can cortveniently spare, after I have rendered all that socie*^7 asks, and that self or personal enjoyment claims ! just as much as I can spare Him with risk of the least awKwardness, or remark, or self denial ? Of course, one must give up the bulk of one's time, and talents, and influence, and thoughts, and desires, and efforts, to other things ; but He shall have just the chips •i m It ': m I'a Hf 236 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. and shavings, the odds and ends, of whatever I don't particularly want for myself or for anybody else ! " Docs it not, practically, amount to this ? And shall it continue to do so ? Oh, be " true-hearted, 7t'//^/e?-hearted." Be really His faithful soldier and servant. Throw over- board for ever the divided allegiance, which is valueless. Be " only for Jesus," and you will start out on a new life of blessedness, beyond anything you can imagine ; and you will never, never^ never have a regret that you listened to, and obeyed, His own " Fo/Iozv Me," even if it involves (as it will) taking up a cross, for there is no true following exempt from it, only the very cross will be gilded with glory. Do not be surprised if / never say another word again about it. I feel that I have said my say to you, and that I can say no more. The Master will send me to others, but I think not again to you. I can now only leave you, with one more cry for blessing, at His feet. Oh that He would say to you " Arise and shine ! " {To .) To-morrow your manhood begins. Whose shall it be ? How much of it shall be for Him ? Shall it be, still, "some for self, and some for Thee"? What \( He had not made a whole offering ? what if He had not given His whole self for you? Answer the question, face it to- night, " How much owest thou unto my Lord ? " Think of that, and you will be glad that there is anything to give up for Him. And, as lor " giving up," there is not a true servant of Christ who does not know that the Master's words come true, " he shall receive an t it! LETTERS, 237 Inindredfold noiv in this time." I know it for myself. Can't you take your Lord's own word for it, and trust- fully say, "Yea, let Him takc^//"? Can you deliberately say, "Well, Jesus shall have /^7;7 ; I'll see what I can spare for Him after my boating friends, and all the things that * a man must do, you know,' have had their due share." That is what it comes to. But you cannot serve two, much less several, masters. For, if you are serving self, and pleasure, and the world, even a little, you are serving Christ's enemy, and not serving Him really at all, because He accepts no divided service. It is very solemn ; but won't you, on this solemn, great, dividing time of your life, look steadily at the reality of the case, and decide, once for all, whose your real service shall be ? Oh, if it might but be that the great, joyful transaction might be done this very night, before the clock strikes twelve, so that not 'even one hour of your manhood should be " for another," but only and all for Jesus I Oh, don't be afraid of taking the plunge ; give yourself over into His hands, and then it will be His part to keep you, and you may trust Him for the keeping ; you will not find Him fail you. Yield yourself unto God (Rom. vi. 13) altogether, body, soul, and spirit, all your powers and all your members. And then see if He won't use you ! He always does ! Dear , I wish I had an angel's tongue to persuade you to believe what blessed- ness you are on the edge of, if you would only give your- self " in FULL and glad surrender " to Jesus, and be "true-hearted, zc'//^?/.?- hearted." But I want you for my Master's sake, far more than for your own I I can't bear those who might be even officers, let alone recruits, in His army to be contented to stay at home as it were, and ■* m 'If I '!*' J •: H 1 tli 238 MIMORIALS OF F. A\ II. ''XK^ only fif^ht their own little private battles for their own ends, and the cause of the Redeemer left to take its chance! Oh, if we might be able to say to-morrow the verses I have stuck on this letter! I am so happy whenever there is "another voice to tell it out" ; won't you be "another"? I must not stay up writing, but I don't think I shall soon sleep. God helping me, 1 will not let Him go except He bless you. Once more, How much for Jesus ? {To .) I am so glad and thankful you have been to the Mildmay Conference. People don't go, because they don't know, till they have been, what it really is. Your description is one of the best I ever heard. "To him that hath shall be given " is always coming true ; it is the folks who already have grace enough, wiio make the effort to put themselves in the way of having more. I could not, do what I would, manage to get up any very strong emotion at hearing of your being laid up again ! It did seem so very like as if the Lord were determined you should n t drift away, at once, into a different atmosphere, where all the " other things entering in " should choke the word you have heard. And, suppose you have to stay and get mixed up with the tent work, it will be worth more to you as a sworn soldier of Jesus Christ than all the honours Cambridge has to bestow. . , . I am most anxious that you should be a true Christian friend to . Don't, oh don't help to LETTERS, 239 introduce him to any men, or anything, which would be hindrance and not help either in seeking or following Jesus. Don't, merely because it might be pleasant to him, have the responsibility of bringing him into any path \\\\\c\\ you have found does not lead nearer to Jesus. And do take him to hear Mr. Aitken when he comes to . Forgive me, but souls are souls^ and it does not do to play with them, and seniors have serious resjjonsi- bilities. I think you would find it very useful to take in Tlie Cleri^y man's Magazitie for yourself now, without waiting till you are ordained. I sent you a prospectus of it. There were capital articles all last year. (To Miss Shekhton.) Leamingto?^. , , • My experience is, that it is nearly always just in proportion to my sense of personal insufficiency in writing anything, that God sends His blessing and power with it ; so I don't wonder that your papers are so sweet and helpful I I think He must give us that total depend- ence on Him for every word, which can only come by feeling one's own helplessness and incapacity, before He can very much use us. And so I think this very sense of not having gifts is the best and most useful gift of them all. It is so much sweeter to have to look up to Him for every word one writes. I often smile when people call me " gifted," and think how little they know the real state of the case, which is that I not only feel that I can't, but really can't, write a single verse unless I go to Him for it and get it from Him. . m is ^9 £ !:. Iti^?. ,1 'i'i I'lir^ u it .■,. 240 MEMO AVALS OF F. R. H. But, in tliis sweet access and supply, you and I ha\e a " better thing " than the grandest natural gifts ; and as for being slow or quick in production, it may be some tiny sentence written in five seconds, and never thought of before, which may do the widest and truest work fur Jesus. Yours, in our dear Master. {To .) ... I suppose it was the '' silver and gold" line that was objected to ; and I do think that couplet, " Take my silver and my gold, Not a mite would I with- hold," is peculiarly liable to be objected to by those who do not really understand the spirit of it, don't you ? So I am not a bit surprised ! Yes, " not a mite would I withhold"; but that does not mean that, because we have ten shillings in our purse, we are pledged to put it all into the next collecting plate, else we should have none for the next call I But it does mean that every shilling is to be, and I think I may say /.»-, held at my Lord's disposal, and is distinctly not my own; but, as He has entrusted to me a body for my special charge, I am bound to clothe that body with His silver and gold, so that it shall neither suffer from cold, nor bring discredit upon His cause ! I still forget some- times, but as a rule I never spend a sixpence without the distinct feeling that it is His, and must be spent for Him only, even if indirectly. With the same common sense, she explains her reasons for dressing very nicely. The outer should be the expression of the inner, not VISITS IN 1877. 241 an ugly mask or disguise. If tlie King's daughter is to be "all glorious within," she must not be outwardly a fright ! I must dress both as a lady and a Christian. The question of cost I see very strongly, and do not con- sider myself at liberty to spend on dress that wiiK.i -. ight be spared for God's work ; but it costs no more to have a thing well and prettily made, and I should only feel justified in getting a costly dress if it would last pro- portionately longer. When working among strangers, if I dressed below par, it would attract attention ana might excite opposition ; by dressing unremarkably, d.d yet with a generally pleasing eftect, no attention is dis- tracted. Also, what is suitable in one house h not so in another, and it would be almost an insult to appear at dinner among some of my relatives and friends in what .1 could wear without apology at home ; it would be an actual breach of the rule " Be courteous "j also, I should not think it right to appear among wedding guests in a dress which would be perfectly suitable for wearing to the Infirmary. Bu'c I shall ahvays ask for guidance in all things ! m ■' m ! if' II' n^ I The year 1S77 wr.s passed uneventfully at her home, or in visits to her brother or sisters, to Ashley Moor, and to London. The distressing illness of our dear mother was a source of deep anxiety ; Frances writes to her : Afor^ pain, dearest mother? May it be more sup- port, rrvyre grace, more tenderness, from the God of all comfort, foore and more ! May we not expect the- H tl t'rnn i. i 242 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. ** mores " always to be in tender proportion to each other ? Your loving child. A few characteristic extracts from some of her letters at this time may here be given. Instead of printing E. L. Goreh's verses to me (" Sweet Singer "), which can do no good at all, persuade her to print and sell her splendid little appeal, " Listen, Christian sisters " ; there would be some use in that, and I would much rather not those to myself. Do get instantly " Our Coffee Room," by Miss Cotton. It is so racily graphic and natural, so telling, and so hard to put down, that you had better not begin it late at night ! I have been immensely struck with the passages in which our Master, our Example^ uses the word " must," and the great contrast with our use of it. Only comi)are when any one says *' but I must do so and so," with Christ's " I mtisfs." It is a really helpful bit of Bible search, for we must follow Him in this or we are " not worthy of Him." Do not hesitate to smite me. I dread nothing so much as smooth things. I would rather have " faithful wounds." I do not see how I can like doing . . . and yet I am in honour bound to carry it through. I was absolutely content and happy in it as being His doing, but subsequent delays and mistakes seemed alto- gether human and not His doing at all. LETTERS. 243 God has been leading me for some time by a way which r knew not, both outwardly and inwardly. I want closer contact with Jesus, more constant com- munion, more patience, more everything ; sometimes I seem to have 7wthing, only that I know Jesus will not fail, will not loose me. He is very wisely giving me a much longer learning time, before letting me do any more teaching. ... I do indeed need grace and tact and patience and comfort very much just now. It's just a case of" No- body knows but Jesus " ; and I feel it is good for me. I am thrown the more on His own strength and sympathy, in what is to me " under the surface " trial \ but I know the Lord is right. . . . I am to be godmother to dear little H ; will it not be a peculiarly solemn trust ! Do pray that he may be Christ's faithful soldier and servant, not only unto the end, but from the be^innino f I do so want him to be a Ay-witness for Christ. I long, more and more, for people to be not just "saved so as by fire," but to be rij^hL-dovvn l,horouf:h-c:oin^ witnesses for Christ. I {To D. S.) WTiat shall I do ? Your letter would take two hours t(» answer, and I have not ten minutes ; fifteen to twenty letters to write every morning, proofs to correct, editors waiting for articles, poems and music I cannot touch, American publishers clamouring for poems or any manu- scripts, four Bible readings or classes weekly, many anxious oamak waiting for help, a mission week coming, 244 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H, and other work after that. And my doctor says my physique is too weak to balance the nerves and brain, and that I ought not to touch a pen. If you could see the pressure on nic, you would not think me wet-blanket- ing if I do not answer a/l your queries. " Mission Week ! " if that sort of thing won't do in , it is the very reason why it is wanted ; no agency seems to me more blessed tlian that. •'Bride of Christ?" Study (I don't mean read through) the Canticles, and look at the practical sweet- ness, comfort, and beauty of the type ; also look at Ezekiel xvi. and Hosea ii. Your own Bible will be your best answerer. Work out this glorious subject : i Samuel xii. 24, "Consider," Psalm cxxvi. 3 "hath done," Joel ii. 21 "will do"; and then (practical) Luke viii. ^g, " s/iora," not merely " /^//," what great things He has done.. PV/iat ** great things " does your Bible tell He Aat/i done and 7c////do? You will find it inexhaustible! Yours in affectionate haste. {To .) Don*t you see He has broken the yoke (Isa. x. 27), only you keep rubbing the place where it pressed, and are feeling >//)f .' When splints are taken off a broken leg, you f^el as if they were still on. " Believe, and ye shall be free indeed." Will you set yourself to search out what He says about it ? Put all the texts down, and be pre- pared to write under them either, " I believe what God says," or " I believe what I fee/, and not what He says." Try it ! Now I must dash off to another topic, because MILD MA y PARK. 245 I must hand to you what flashed out splendidly to me last night: "Beloved of God, called to be saints!" That for you and me. Only think ! It seems to include everything. Will you let that be your pillow to- morrow night ? {^To Miss Williams.') Thanks for your sweet benediction. If you remember me in prayer, \vi41 you ask that I may be kept always and only at Jesus' feet, never anywhere else. It is the only place safe from vain glory. Thank you for your valuable gift of the " History of Wales." I do so like your book, "Literary Women." The sad sketch of L. E. L.'s life and character struck me very much. What a contrast to Hannah More ! It seems as if more waiting than working were to be my lot ; but it is such rest to be quite satisfied with His choice for me. (To Mrs. R .) 68, MiLDMAY Park, October 1877. Would Lizzie like to send her baby- house with its twenty dolls to the Mildmay Orphanage? I see it would be most gratefully received as a gift to the Mildmi.y work. Mrs. Penneflither invited me here. I was going away on Saturday, but caught cold at the quarterly meet- ing of the Association of Female Workers. I iit in a draught. I knew I was in for a proper cold, so implored them to let me go across to their Home for Invalids (which I had taken a great fancy to), and lie there a few days. But they would not let me get into a cold cab as a specimen of Mildmay nursing, so thereupon I resigned 246 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. r.h-f i ! \. -■■% - myself to an extra week here. And, verily, they do know how to nurse, and, what's more (!), how to keep you quiet. Also they do know how to pray ! I have learnt a little, I hope, on that subject this last week. What I hear and see here is quite a new light on intercessory prayer. I thought I knew something of its power and reality, but I see I did not know much. Mrs. Pennefather took me (before my cold) to Clapton House. I only wish every girl I care for was there ; such a beautiful, Cnristian school. I got any amount of bright looks (as it seems they knew my books), and I wanted exceedingly to go among them. Hearing the Principal sa> she would be pre- vented taking their Bible class, I ventured the pro- posal to take it. Afterwards, I had about a dozen all to myself in the drawing-room, for a talk with any that wanted special help. They were told to get chairs. "Oh," I said, ^^ don't sit all in a row a long way off; come up close and cosy; we can talk ever so much better then, can't we?" You should have seen how charmed they were, and clustered niece-fashion all round me. We did have such a sweet hour; it was rather after the " question-drawer " manner; but all their little questions or difficulties seemed summed up by one of them, " We do so want to come closer to Jesus." I was very sorry not to hear one of Mrs. Pennefather's beautiful addresses, but she could not move her head from the pillow. Mrs. Charlesworth took the subject. I was so cosily out of the way in the back seat, revelling in being quite incog., when it was announced, " Miss F. R. H. is here, and we hope she will say a few words." I sat quiet " She is here," said Miss S , so that :% ^ ■ li I, LETTERS. 247 J was obliged to startle my neighbours by rising, but I simply said I came there to learn, not to teach. Then Annie Macpherson made a bright little speech on en- couragements to prayer. Then followed such greetings from her and from Misses De Broen and Blundell, Mrs. Hudson Taylor, just come from China, and Miss Mac- lean, who has been working twelve years all alone, and both the latter told me how the Lord had sent them the same blessing He had to us. Mrs. Bayly, of " Ragged Homes," Miss Bayly, just back from Australia, and many more spoke to me. It is such a privilege to be one of such an Association. And you don't see a dismal face among them ! And they are so affectionate, the Sun is so bright that there's no ice left to be broken. But oh, Mrs. R , what shall / render to the Lord for His immense mercies to me ? for there was not one that spoke to me but wanted to tell me of some blessing through my books or leaflets. Everything is so well ordered at Mildmay, and Mrs. P. is so very calm and calming ; she comes and gives me a text at night with a sort of hushing power. I nil ■'S' I'l k ^^3 (To S. B. F.) I want to hand over to you my own last crumb from the King's table, — only it is more than a crumb. " Be- loved of God, called to be saints." All that for you and me ! " Greatly beloved," for of course God cannot love just a little ! And what a calling ! " high," " holy," heavenly ! Does not this seem a little lovely epitome of our position ? 'f ii • ! 1^ ,i! II* ^KifciJ. 248 MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. The following lines were written impromptu in S. B. P.'s album. *' Enoch Walked with God." {Gen. V. 22.) So may'st thou walk ! from hour to hour Of every brightening year ; Keeping so very near To Hi"i, whose power is love, whose love is power. So may'st thou walk ! in His clear light, Leaning on Him alone, Thy life His very own, Until He takes tlice up to walk with Him in white. Frances Ridley Havergal. March ^isf, 1877. Though no reference has been made to the " Christian Progress Scripture Reading Union," my dear sister was a most active member, and the means of enrolling hundreds of others. The number on her card of membership is 1667. She often wrote for the magazine, and at one time (to relieve her friend, Mr. Boys) undertook his work as editor for three months. One sentence from a letter, and her explanatory paper on the object of the Union, will suffice to show her practical interest. {To S. G. F.) Do you know the " Christian Progress Union " ? I find it is the most valuable adjunct to work, i.e. work LETTERS. 249 with souls, that I ever had. It puts people on the rails of regular reading, and a double line is worth more than twice as much as a single one. Hence I value its arrangement for two chapters to be read daily. I enjoy it immensely for myself, but value it for others. Do join ! For further explanation as to the Union and its benefits, the reader is referred to the Appendix, where F. R. H.'s paper on the subject is given in full. I t s-\ CHAPTER XIII. (1878.) Sympathy with sorrowful suffering — "Just as Thou wilt" — The mother's last smile — Called to rest — The home nest stirred up — Clear guidance — "Another little step" — Last days in Leaminf^ton — Nieces and nephews — Devonshire visits — The Welsh nest — " My study " — The harp piano — Mure work — The sweep of Jehovah's pencil — IJil'ie readings — '• Take n v love " — Songs in a weary Chiistmas night. " T F one member suffer, all the members suffer *• witli it." During the wintei and spring of 1877-8 our dear second mother was passing through intense suffering. Though most patiently borne, it was very sorrowful to witness. The sympathy of many friends in Leamington, and the devotion of our dear old friend, Miss Nott, gave untold comfort both to the sufferer and to Frances. But with marvellous energy our mother still carried on her Zenana meetings and those of the A. F. W. Society, until at last the diligent worker, the bright and lo\'ing friend, the counsellor of many, was called awa}. Some lines, by our dear father, exactly describe the patience and the desire of his beloved wife : A LA r>T SMILE. 2%\ Just as Thou wilt ! Be all to me, E'en when Thy hand smites heavily I On brightest day or darkest niglit, Whate'er is Thine is right. Just as Thou wilt ! Should anguish fierce With scorpion stings my body pierce, I'll praise Thee if on me Thou 'It shine, And whisper "I am thine!" On her last day, and after long unconscious- ness, she suddenly recognised Frances, who was kneeling by her. Her smile was s; artlingly sweet ; it was the last. On Sunday, May 26th, 1878, the end came; for weariness, rest ; for suffering, glory ; for the loneliness of widowhood, the reunion for ever. In Astley Churchyard she ** Rests where her loved ones rest, And joins the throng Of them who see the Lamb And sing that endless song." (W. H. H.) (To Hon. F. Dillon) If ever a cup of cold water came at the right moment, it was your overwhelmingly kind letter. It came on the seventh day of poor suffering mother's dying. The painful tension to me has been excessive \ your note was a singular relief, if only for a few minutes, in those days of grief. To witness that strangely dis- i IT m ii* 1 25a MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. tressing illness has been by " terrible things " answering my eager prayer for more ttaching and closer drawing at any cost. So now I expect the " afterwards," which, as yet, I certainly don't feel. But it is sometliing to set to one's own personal seal that God is true to a whole set of promises, with which one could have nothing to do except in very real trial of some sort, and one may as well let Him choose what sort. l\ Id (. Many arrangements and perplexities now devolved upon us, in the breaking up of our Leamington home. Dear Frances' unfailing trust, and her assurance that God would guide our steps aright, was to me mo.st calming and sus- taining. She was just a daily illustration of "Without Carefulness." We both needed quiet; and as we remembered our pleasant rambles many years ago on the cliffs beyond the Mumbles, we went there, and our brother joined us. Frances at once wished us to secure united lodg- ings for our winter home, and in this I entirely agreed. Returning from Wales I went with my dear sister into Herefordshire, staying with some worthy people at the " Highlands " farm, near Titley. The good man was quite deaf, and my sister's dexterity, in talking on her fingers to him and rapidly transferring on them the sermons at church, was another of her ceaseless ministries. From the high ground of the rabbit warren the M ''ANOTHER l.ITTLE ^TEPy 25J view is panoramic. And there stands the fir tree, beneath which my sister had written her [xkmii "Zenith." It was there she sketched the eartlily zeniths, and compared them with the broad sun- hght of the true zenith, the true shining — ". . . That should rise and rise, From glory unto glory, through God's skies, In strengthening brightness and increasing power; A rising with no setting, for its height Could only culminate in God's eternal light." Those quiet lodgin^^s were restful to us both, and we received such kind attentions from Mr. and Mrs. Mainw iring as ensured our comfort, until we returned to Leamington to break up our home. The following letters belong to that period. Leamington, August 1878. The Lord has shown me another little step, and of course I have taken it with extreme delight. " Take my silver and my gold " now means shipping off all my ornaments (including a jewel cabinet which is really fit for a countess) to the Church Missionary House, where they will be accepted and disposed of for me. I retain only a brooch or two for daily wear, which are memorials of my dear parents ; also a locket with the only portrait I have of my niece in heaven, my Evelyn ; and her " two rings," mentioned in "Under the Surface." But these I redeem, so that the whole value goes to the Church Missionary Society. I had no idea I had such a jeweller's shop, nearly fifty articles are being packed off. ii !i.f ^j^'Vm^^^- =1 ,-l 254 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. I don't think I need tell you I never packed a box with such pleasure. {To Hon, F, Dillon.) . . . Don't I recollect you, and the wonderful sermon we had just heard on Revelation iii. 12? I always read your articles first in Woman's Work, for oh, I do like writing which is both q and t, and yours is exceedingly both. I don't think there has been a day these three v/eeks that your name has not been in my mind, so that 1 was quite startled to see your name at the end of the letter ! " Reason why " : the editor of Chrictian Progress has broken down ill ; and, though some of my friends thought it almost sinful of me, I could not refuse his request that J. would relieve him for three months as editor. Never, except as an act of sheer mercy and pity, will I be an editor. Letter after letter to various "lights," whom I entreated to illumi- nate their 14,000 readers on \^arious topics, brought hardly anything but regretful refusals. Everybody is too busy. (I wish people would believe I was ; if they did I should get a little more breathing time to do my own work.) May I ask you to contribute a paper on a Bible subject, as Miss Whately and I are both writing a series on practical points, she on the negatives, I on the posi- tives, of Ciiristian life. Otherwise some of your " Dead Flies" or " Polis'ied Corners" series would have done splendidly. I am so glad you touch the seniors in your pajier this month ; you are generally hardest on the juniors. I longed for a second pr.per on unpunctuality, for the seniors. My experiences have been chielly more of the hindrance their unpunctuality is ! for if the mistress LETTER. 255 is late at meals, and does not see the value of punctuality in general, everybody has to suffer far more than for any juvenile delin(|uent. I can't let your letter pass without loving thanks (and 1 have thanked Him), and just a word of wonder that you should find help from ;;/>' words. There are few things one feels so unworthy of as even to bear His messages, let alone see His seal set upon them. I can understand others being used, but not my being used. I can only say I am not worthy of the least of His mercies. What you said about His " tell- ing," and the love revealed in it, was so real and sweet to hear. Is it not one of the many secrets of the Lord, this "telling"? . . . Last, but not least, my sister and I are both so struck with your thought on " The Lord shall be thy rereward." Some special circumstances make it just the right word for me. Then of course this sent me to the whole chapter, and that has been food and strength. Yesterday was my last Sunday evening in [what had been] my father's home. I don't suppose I shall ever, exactly, have a home again. But I am very happy in the " stirring up " of the nest ; every new expe- rience of the " changes and chances " takes one into a new province of the land of promise. And I have my sister, and we are going to live together for the winter in South Wales. She is almost everything to me. I wish I could entirely ''tell it out " how good God is to me ! Don't you find there are some things one can say better than write ! I can't write at all, as I would, how good He is, the ink would boil in my pen ! Oh for a seraph's tongue to tell ! Well, we shall be able some day. Till then, and then, I am and shall be Yours lovingly. I \ 256 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H. On our last Sunday evening in Leamington we went to Trinity Church ; and the concUiding hymn was my sister's, " Thou art coming, O my Saviour." The farewell kindness of many clergy and friends is well remembered. Characteristically, on our last home evening, Frances sent for a number of night-school boys, giving them baskets of books and magazines, maps for their library, a magic lantern, etc. And I don't think they have forgotten how she gathered them round her piano, singing with them " Tell it out ;" and then followed her bright farewell words. For these boys she wrote some simple verses and chorus, "Jesus delivers me now " (unpublished). Frances spent a great part of the month of August Avith our dear brother Henry's widow and family, in Somersetshire. They had bright loving intercourse ; deep searchings together with their Bibles ; and music, in which all could take a skilful part, solos and choruses resounding the praises of Him they loved, and whom one of them was so soon to see. May I say that the love of every one of her numerous nieces and nephews was ever accounted by their aunt as one of God's good gifts, casting refreshing fragrance on her path. What sJie was to them, no words of mine can tell ! Then came a journey into Devonshire ; she writes THE WELSH RETREAT. 457 from Looseleigh, near Plymouth : " I am indeed in clover with these kind friends, and it is very- pleasant meeting so many who prayed for me in my illness, though quite a stranger." My sister addressed a large gathering of ladies in Plymouth, in connection with the Y. W. C. A. Some time after this she wrote out her notes on the subject of her address, "All Things/' (See Appendix.) One happy Sunday was spent with other new friends, in a very Eden of trees, and flowers, and birds, and holy fellowship. A brief visit was also paid to her friends at Newport, of which she said it was " like breathing the air of the land of Beulah." Early in October my sister joined me in our Welsh retreat. How I remember her first words to me : " I wanted so to get to you, Marie dear ! " She was so very tired, that even the sea air and perfect rest failed to refresh her for some time. Afterwards, she thoroughly enjoyed the walks and scrambles on the cliffs ; at low tide springing lightly over boulders to beds of sea- weeds, and rocky pools bright with sea anemones, and then calling to me to watch the white-crested waves, "the wind dashing them back like confirm- ation veils." Or, watching the vessels with all sails up entering the harbour, she would speak of the •• abundant entrance into the everlasting king- S W^ 258 MEMORIALS OF F. K. H. dom." Delighting in all knowledge, she studied the " Nautical Almanac," and at the top of the Mumbles lighthouse learnt all that the keeper could tell her. Her tastes were so simple, delight- ing in wild flowers, and in animals, from the great St. Bernard dogs to her pet kittens. We made her study cosy with home comforts, and she called it her " workshop." She arranged her pictures : by the door was her motto " For Jesus' sake only," anc her Temperance pledge card; besides, were her fa ler's portrait, and below it " Sunset on the Lake of Geneva," " The martyrs in prison," "Astley Church and Rectory," also " The Snow Pcak-^ of the Dent du Midi," and the "Alpine Gcum," (choice gifts from her friend Helga V. Cramm,) with many home portraits and busts. Her small but choice librai> showed the variety of her taste, classical, foreign, poetical, with many works on science, geology, etc. ; Humboldt's and Professor Ritchie's works (his last gift) she much enjoyed, zvJien the scant leisure came. (The last books she had in reading were : " The Earth's Formation on Dynamical Principles," by A. T Ritchie ; Goodwin's Works ; " The Life and Letters of the Rev. W. Pennefather," of which she said, "I find such food in that book"; and "The Upward Gaze," by her friend Agnes Giberne, with which she was delighted.) A STUDY SKETCH. 259 May I sketch her at her study table, in her favourite chair from Astley Rectory, older than herself? Her American type-writer was close by, so tha^ she could turn to it from her desk ; it was a great relief to her eyes, but its rapid working often told me she was busy when she should have rested. Her desk and table drawers were all methodically arranged for letters from editors, friends, relatives, strangers, matters of business, multitudinous requests, Irish Society work, manu- scripts ; paper and string in their allotted corners, no litter ever allowed It was at her study table that she read her Bible by seven o'clock in the summer and eight o'clock in winter ; her Hebrew liible, Greek Testament, and lexicons being at hand. Sometimes, on bitterly cold mornings, I begged that she would read with her feet com- fortably to the fire, and received the reply: "But then, Marie, I can't rule my lines neatly ; just see what a find I've got! If one only searches, there are such extraordinary things in the Bible ! " Her harp-piano was placed on a stand she con- trived by dexterous carpentering. It was at this instrument she con; loosed her last sacred song, " Loving all Along," and many other melodies to her hymns in " Loyal Responses." * Often I These will probably soon be published by Hutchings and Romer. li 1: ': 26o MEMORIALS OF F, R. H. heard flashes of melod thereon, that came un- bidden amid severer vvo.k. In the south window, its sea view stretching over to Ilfracombe, stood her little table, flowers, and easy chair. Her sofa faced the west window, with the view of Caswell Bay and its recks, and there the sunsets came, which we so often watched together. It may be useful to younger readers to mention how resolutely she refrained from late hours, and frittering talks at night, instead f^i Bible searching and holy communings. Early rising and early studying were her rule through life, while punctu- ality, and bright, quick, cheerincss characterized all she did. She writes: "*/« order'' (i Cor. xiv. 40) is something viorc than being tidy ! some- thing analogous to * keeping rank.' " To a friend, Frances wrote at this time : I don't think I ever felt more thankful and glad for anything than on reaching this quiet little nest, (iod has so graciously and perfectly met our special need. I must pass on to you the last text I have been enjoying, Exodus XV. 13 ; what can we want more ! and it is Thy mercy and strengtii all along. And then the "iioly habitation " of the present, and the future one, from which we shall " go no more out." But the "lull in life " never came, even in Wales. A MORNING'S POST. 261 ^^Rest!^^ There is none for me apparently. Every post brings more letters from strangers alone tiian I and my sister can answer. It is nine months since I have had a chance of doing a stroke of new work ! Hut letters were a trouble to Nehemiah as well as to me (Neh. vi. 4), and I must try to make it always work for my King. It may seem strange that she should have had so to wear her strength away ; and the following requests, which came by one post, will show what labour was required in answering them all, Request for contribution to Irish Church Advocate. Hymns for special New Year services wanted. To write cards suitable for mourners. For set of six more *' Marching Orders." Request for poems to illustrate six pictures. For prayer, sympathy and counsel (two sheets crossed). Two sheets from a septuagenarian, requiring thought. Request to write a book suitable for Unitarians. Sundry in([uiries and apologies from one who had been printing her verses with another author's name. Request to reprint an article, with four e\i)lana- tory enclosures. Also to revise a proof and add my opinion. To revise many sheets of musical nianu- srnpts. Three requests to supply cards for bazaars. Advice wanted how to get articles inserted in m.i','azine3. To recommend pupils. To promote a new magazine. To give opinion on an oratorio. Some long poems in manuscript to revise and advise thereon. Besides packets of leallets and cards wanted. In addition to all this, musical proofs reached f. ii El- I' If m ir ^ 11 I -I \ ')• 1 ., ,' lUi 1 il: m i j I. -li 262 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. her almost daily, which often required many hours of careful revision and thought ; and those accustomed to the sight of the Fireside Almanack will remember how "tl^e sayings of the Lord Jesus " had there been arranged by her for the year which was her last. All this absorbed an amount of time which can scarcely now be real- ized ; and yet she always wrote pleasantly and cheerily, and many a word of refreshment came from that wearied hand. Unasked, she undertook to chapterize the manuscript of " Never Say Die."* Writing to S. G. P., she says: Time spent on it is overpaid ; it brings to me all the sweetness and freshness of the old, old story. I ket p reading it for myself. My sister agrees with me that the book is exceptional, and in fact unique; and I iln trust that you may have, or rather that the Master may nave, a very harvest of souls from its circulation. To its author, when working among the mourners at the Nant-y-glo colliery, she writes : I enclose you a wee bit more, it has been quite a weight on my mind that I could not do more to help such terrible need. I was pledged to other collections, and my own purse is not unfathomable. So 1 was driven to do at last what 1 had much better have done at first, viz. pray that the Lord would show me some • t( Never Say Die." By S. G. Proiit, Nisbet & Co. LETTER. 263 way of sending a little,, and of course two or three ways flashed into my mind. May the good Lord give you many souls for your hire, for this service. {To Cecilia.) The Mumbles, October 1878. Dear Ceci, — . . . . I have often found that the greater the difficulties, the greater the " very present help " ; and of course Jesus will be '' the same " to you, dear Ceci. . . . If ever one had gracious j^aiidance in one's life it is now; the place is so precisely what we wanted, a regular case of Philippians iv, 19. I was terribly tired and used up when I got here, but am ever so much better already, though the " rest " has at present been only as to no ''interviews." . . . Must hand on to you and Edith the text which more than any other has struck me in our readings lately j I have lii'cd on it. Exodus XV. 13. Led forth Guided What would one have more ! Redemption Holy habitation » >> 1 ) /n Thy mercy. ) hi Thy strength. And then : fpast. < present : Ps. xci. 9. C future. " Sweet is Thy mercy," and " great is Thy mercy toward me'' On Sunday look at Exodus xxxii.,29, and connect with John vi. 53-55. Think of ^^ those things" and "eat" them : living on., and satisfied with., Christ's precious body and blood. " Eat, O friends ! " Your loving Aunt, J I T) 1 ^ li i; 1 ! j'-fi f: { 1' r ! I,r 364 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. (71? an American Friend.) October 28, 1878. My dear Mrs. Bru\ot, — I have not forgotten that 1 have owed you a letter for a long time. And 1 owe one to and Mrs. McCready. Now would you be so very kind as to for- ward this letter to them, and will they be so very kind as to acce])t it instead of separate letters. . . . Most gr;u:iously (iod strengthened my health wonder- fully, as the need deepened during the long and terrible siititering of my poor dear mother, a marked instance of " as thy day." Still, of course, the strain on mind and body has been very great, both for my dear elder sister Maria and myself. Next followed all that is involved in a final break ii{) of home, and overlooking the accumulations of half a century — all my precious father's books, papers, etc. The beginning of this month my dear sister and I came here, and settled into snug lodgings on the ridge of the western horn of Swansea Bay (six miles from Swansea). I simply could not live, I think, anywhere within hail of London, nor much longer in any such lively place as Leamington. So I have got away, now, well out of every- body's reach ! I am trying, trying, trying, in a sort of Tantalian hopelessness, to overtake the letters that i)our in on me, and to fulfil such requests as I have already promisetl. But, very seriously, I feel that unless I draw a line hard and fast, and refuse everybody all round all that is asked me to do, until I have cleared up the said promises and secured a little rest, I shall get mentally as LETTERS, 265 well as bodily exhausted. So, dear friend, I must decline to write what you ask for ; it is always pain to me to say " no," and I migiit keep a secretary only to write these refusals. That is all the outside. As for utnier the surface, of course it is the old story of marvels o " love and faithfulness, from microscopically minuic to giandly magnificent, and sometimes the minutest seem the most magnificent I don't think all the i>revious years, put together, ecjual this last twelve months for these daily miracles of love. Only, most of them, and the must wonderful, are from special ^circumstances, such as have to remain among the secrets between one's own soul and the ever dearer Master It seems to me that God has done for me more than He promised, not only supi)lying all my need, but all my notions. . . . Our i)resent abode suits us so perfectly in all manner of little ways, that I tell our gracious Father I really don't know how to thank Him enough for it. . . . How 1 should like to meet my American friends ! But I dare not come over. I s'hould be sick all the way, and only bt a trouble to you ; but, " there shall be no more sea ! " {To S. G. P.) " Blessed is he that considcreth the poor, the Lord shall deliver him in the time of trouble." So, dear friend,* "thou art, now, the blessed of the Lord." A'ow, while I am writing and when you are reading the words, " now" the "blessed" of Jehovah. That word "blessed" seems to me like a grand outline, traced with one sweep of Jehovah's mighty pencil ; and who shall say what the i i. • Ha T IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT.3) &c ^/ M/.. y %° I/., 1.0 I.I ■50 "^^ KjiidH us Wuu IM IL25 i 1.4 1^ 1.6 Photographic ^Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 »'^ ■^^^ 1 i A. I RfW" ! 1 If I im , i r t ),j I4 I,; 1 J 1 i 1 1 266 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H, filling up shall be? Because, you see, it is not our idea of "blessed," but God's own idea of it that will fill \i up. I think, sometimes, Christian workers do not take the great comfort for themselves that the good Lord means and has provided for them ; there is a sort of shrinking from presuming to appropriate the conditional character connected with a promise, even when it is quite distinctly applicable ; and I regard this as a device of the enemy to contrive to withhold from them the whole glorious comfort which belongs to them. He puts it a*s a sort of humility ; and I think it must grieve our dear Master to have His kindness thus frustrated. So, somehow, I am exceedingly anxious to- day that you should just revel in the grand definiteness, and the still grander /«definiteness, of this word, which is yours at this moment. If words mean anything, you have been considering the poor ; and so, if words mean anything, you are *' blessed." I have been praying that the Lord would water your own soul very abundantly in the midst of your watering, that you may find more and more " fresh springs " in Himself, find may receive every day His own anointing with " fresh oil " for your service. You are treading peculiarly closely in the plain footsteps of the Master, your " own Master " ; and you have not even to wait for His sure " Come, ye blessed," you have the fore-echo of it now. May He Himself whisper it into your heart in the midst of your work, which " He is not unrighteous to forget." May I give you another thought ? He is sending you into the places whither He Himself will come : Luke x. i. You go into one of these places of suffering, because Jesus Himself will come there, come with His saving power or His pitying love. WORK- AT HOME. 267 The cottagers around us soon won my sister's interest and regard, and she invited them to a Bible reading in our house (I may say that she never began any work of this kind without the Vicar's consent) * She wrote to ask " for a real great blessing on an open Bible class which I am starting this evening. I don't know who will come, few or many ; but I want God's real con- verting grace poured out, and I want to be enabled so to speak of Jesus that souls may be won to Him. There is the centre ; how it just goes through one, when one touches upon His own beloved name. And how we do want Him to be understood and loved." {To .) I have just been preparing for my next Bible reading. You thought I used a . great many texts in my Bible notes, but it is my way of work. I very seldom run on a dozen lines in any book without embodying a text. I don't see how one can put too large a proportion of God's own words among our own. He never said our words should not return void. Besides, I have got into the way of it. I don't want to be a spider spinning out -.'ij * I may also add (to remove misapprehension) that this work was not in or connected with the town of Swansea, where she only once took the Y. W. C. A. meeting, but in the village of Newton, six miles from that town. .liC : :\ :i 268 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. Ji.i 1 I ^ t :i i of myself! I am so interested in my Bible class. I have just been telling one of them I don't wish to lead them a nice interesting walk all round the Vv'alls of the city of refuge, and get them to think what a charming place it is; I want to give them a good hard push inside. The room in which the class was held was always full. She began at once with a subject selected from the Christian Progress chapter for the day, asking all who came to read the intervening chapters by the next meeting, and thus ensuring that study of God's word she so eagerly sought to encourage. She told me that illustrations seemed to overflow upon her when speaking, and the reality of her words certainly thrilled her hearers. The last evening, she was so exhausted that I persuaded her to give up her class, and not to attempt larger meetings in the Newton schoolroom, which had been thought of. On the fourth anniversary of December 2nd, 1873, my dear sister had written : It was a peculiarly trying day as to other thmgs ; but, as I was remembering that blessed day, and all the blessedness of the way ever since, and the words in Jeremiah ii. 2, I cannot tell you the sweetness of it and the assurance that He was indeed remembering me. " The love of thine espousals." Do look at the verse, for it applies just as much to you, dear H , as to me. A LAST ANNIVERSARY. 269 Only, it is but very rarely He gives me such a vividly felt message of love. I think it was that He saw I was in special need of it ; it was just like Him to send it. The hymn in ** Loyal Responses," " My Lord, dost Thou remember me } " bears the same date. On the fifth and last anniversary, December 2nd, 1878. Frances writes. (To/. T. W.) I had a great time early this morning, renewing the never regretted consecration. I seemed led to run over the " Take my life," and could bless Him verse by verse for having led me on to much more definite con- secration than even when I wrote it, voice, gold, in- tellect, etc. But the eleventh couplet, "love,"— that has been unconsciously ?iot filled up. Somehow, I felt mystified and out of my depth here : it was a simple and definite thing to be dofie, to settle the voice, or silver and gold ! but " love " ? I have to love others, and I do ; and I've not a small treasure of it, and even loving in Him does not quite meet the inner difficulty. Of course, I told Him all that was in my hep.rt as far down as ever I knew it myself, and that He knew the rest, and so I could only hand over the whole concern to Him, and implore Him to make it clear and definite. I don't see much clearer, or feel much different ; but I have said intensely this morning, " Take my love," and He knows I have. So I did not fidget any more, or worry the Master any more about it. I shall just go forward and expect Him to fill it up, and let my life from this day it : ■ ■* mm - 270 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. i. } w ■J '^ M iiil answer really to that couplet. The worst part to me is that I don't in practice prove my love to Him, by delight in much and long communion with Him; hands and head seem so full of " other things," (which yet are His given work,) that " heart " i.eems not " free to serve " in fresh and vivid love. Swiftly vv^ere her words to be realized : ** For He hath met my longing With word of golden tone, That I shall serve for ever Himself, Himself alone. Shall serve Him, and for ever; O hope most sure, most fair 1 The perfect love outpouring In perfect service there I '' •r? If From my notebook : December 17, 1878. The sun was shining in our breakfast room, when Frances said: "It is a great mercy the sunshine of heaven is veiled from our sight, or we should be just unfit for earthly duties. I think there is a gravitation of the soul to life, as there is in bodies to the earth. It's delightful being here ; it was curious the strong impression I had to come, I think God gave me the wish, and it has turned out all right. It is like what poor Howells said to me on the cliffs yesterday. I met him in his threadbare coat, and he told me how good the Lord was to him, and then, as if talking to Him not to me, he said, 'He's been particularly good to me I ' " i LAST CHRISTMAS VERSES. 271 " That splendid sovereign will of our God, made up of infinite love and infinite wisdom, nothing seems out of perspective when this is our standpoint ; all His words and ail His ways then stand out, harmonized and beautiful." "Perhaps in heaven we shall be permitted to remember all the way the Lord led us, and to recall distinctly all the puzzling parts of His guidance and providence, so to see glory reflected hack from them, as it were, upon His wonderful wisdom." I m {To -.) Dearest H- December 16, 1878. You regularly overwhelm me with such kindness. Tell Mr. Bullock I don't deserve the Fireside annuals and Tablets, one bit. The beautiful shawl will be such a comfort. . . . Tell the dear juniors I shall imagine there is a little packet of love in the top of each finger of the delightful gloves. . . . The Memoir of Mr. Pennefather will always be a treasure to me. Do you see that he was a pledged supporter of the Irish Society ? I was charmed when I saw that I I know people wonder why I am so warm about it, but you see I am in first-rate company ! Very early on her last Christmas morning she awoke in severe pain, and was very ill for some days. But she said cheerily : " I really have had such songs given me in the night, and some Christmas verses for next year came so easily." 272 MEMORIALS Of F. R. H. 1 1 An hour after: "Oh, Marie; IVe done a half-day'i- work already, a whole set of mottoes ; it seemed poured into me." These she named " Christmas Sunshine," and " Love and Light for the New Year." " You can't think the enjoyment it is tc^ me to produce anything new. What books I should write if I had time ! I wonder if I shall always be so pressed with other things ; but never mind, it is all ' service.' " And then she spoke of her own mother and the little prayer she taught her : " * O Lord, prepare me for all Thou art pre- paring for me' ; that has been my life prayer." Many days of pain and weakness followed, and the doctor wished her to have perfect rest. I was most thankful to write all the letters I could for her now, and at other times. Dear wearied sister ! once she said : "I do hope the angels will have orders to let me alone a bit, when I first get to heaven ! " ! ' i i i' Mj I > ( M- 4 11 CHAPTER XIV. (1879.) New Year's sunshine — Journal of mercies — {Facsimile of Bibh pages) — Prayer and intercessions — *' Work, if the Lord will " — London — His law a delight — Prospering — "Loving all Along" — " Bruey " success — Irish plans — Temperance work — The oldest friend's visit— "Can I go to India?" — Last Y. \V. C. A. address — " Little Nony" — Last letters — Costly stones — The last " Sunday crumb " card. " And so the years flowed on, and only cast Light, and more light, upon the shining way, That more and more shone to the perfect day; "^ Always intenser, clearer than the past ; Because they only bore her, on glad wing. Nearer the Light of Light, the Presence of her King." {''Zenithr) I REMEMBER her New Year's greeting, {i.e. January i, 1879,) " 'He crowneth the year with His goodness,' and He crowneth me ' with loving- kindness and tender mercies.* You, dear Marie, are one of my mercies ; and I do hope He will let me do something for you up in heaven ! " A diary she never kept ; but Mrs. Charles Bullock sent her a little "Journal of Mercies for !..J? ) lu HI t. 274 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. 1879." The entries in this are a mirror of her very self, " in every thing giving thanks." Frances wrote in acknowledgment : "Thanks for the charming Journal you sent me, I like it greatly. I put down whichever 'mercy* seems uppermost in my mind for each day ; not one in a thousand though ! " We believe the entries for the first three months will interest our readers. F. R. H.'s "Journal of Mercies" for 1879. Jan. I St. Able to come downstairs first time. 2nd. Sleep. 3rd. Maria, and all her care of me. 4th. Opportunities of speaking of Christ. 5th. Rest and leisure to-day. 6th. Warmth and comfort. 7 th. Spirit of prayer in answer to prayer. 8th. Relief from mental pressure. 9th. Maria's health and strength renewed. 10th. Being enabled to cast care on God. nth. Having money to give away. 1 2th. Finding great spoil in the Word. 1 3th. Deliverance out of many trials and difficulties. 14th. Being withheld from resuming work, and sense of God's wise hand in it. 15th. For His hand upon me in weakness. 1 6th. Finding something of the habit of trust 17th. A little respite from letter writing. 1 8th. Milder and beautiful weather. \ JOURNAL OF MERCIES. 275 Jan .19th. >» 20th. f» 21st. »f 22nd. ») 23rd. >» 24th. »» 25th. » 26th. I) 27 th. » 28th. >> 29th. f» 30th. >> 31st. Feb. I St. » 2nd. u 3rd. >» 4th. »> 5th. ») 6th. »» 7 th. »» 8th. >» 9 th. ») loth. » nth. »> 1 2 th. » 13th. >> 14th. >J 15th. ») i6th. >> 17 th. Opportunity of help to Mrs. M . That blessing may reach the Princess Beatrice. Clearance of my path. My study ! More strength. Help in writing for C. S. S. M. The promise in Deuteronomy xxx. 6. Head and eyes decidedly better. Being evidently sent to the Mumbles. Travelling mercies. Travelling opportunities (to London). Kindness from Mr. and Mrs. W . Being allowed to give a word of real comfort. Being in N. and Co.'s hands. A happy Sunday. Acceptance by Hutchings and Romer of *' Loving all Along." Immediate answer to prayer. Strength for ''xtra pulls. Shielding from cold and rain. Need supplied. Pleasant guidance. Dr. D 's sermons. Safe transit to Rev. C. Bullock's. Quiet day. Hettie B.'s friendship. Portrait finished. Pleasant interviews with good men. Finishing *' Echoes," and seeing Amy and Clement. Frustration of plans, and solemn lessons. Such a comfortable nest to come back to. ! l|i 1 ! 1 ' ■ ll 1 \ \ *i dll hj if 1 276 MEMORIALS OF F» R. 11. ■■.;4» rwf i Our good maid, Mary Farrington. Fresh air. Immediate answer to prayer for a token for good. • Help in need. Done with some musical work. Freedom from pain. Able to walk about. Opportunities of usefulness. Finding the Lord's poor. Maria returned all right. Fulfilment of Psalm xxxvii. 5, 6* Spring sunshine ! * Strange experience. Freedom. Maria's writing letters for me. Preservation from cold. Finding myself freed from what was tempta- tion. Answer to prayer that the Lord's call might not be wasted. Beautiful spring sunset. Irresponsibility to any but my Master. Finishing my " Kept." Donkeys ! Special application of i Peter iv. 14. For God's withholdings all my life. A good day's work done. Contentment in walking by faith, not by sight. Having been guided here. Succeeded in starting Mary F with a Sunday school class. Feb MSth. » 19th. »> 20th. »» 2 1 St. »» 22nd. n 23rd. n 24th. 1) 25th. »» 26th. »» 27 th. »> 28th. Mar. I St. »» 2nd. }> 3rd. n 4th. }y Sth. fl« 6th. n 7 th. >» 8th. »> 9th. »> loth. M nth. »f 1 2 th. M 13th. » 14th. ft 15th. »t 1 6th. tt 17 th. BIBLE SEARCHING. m Mar.iSth. Clearer views of Jesus. 19th. Acceptance among poor. 20th. H converted, and O P conse- crated. 2ist. Irish Society success far beyond my asking. 22nd. Study comforts. 23rd. Grace not dependent on means. 24tii. Preservation from fire. 25 th. Pardon and victory. 26th. Permitted to speak out to , and setting Board School Bible reading afloat. 27th. Instant guidance in sudden emergency. 28th. Preservation from a serious fall. 29th. Faculties. 30th. A gospel sermon at church. 31st. Musical gifts. It is at our brother Frank's suggestion that the accompanying facsimiles have been taken from my sister's Bible. She had thus referenced two of Bagster's Bibles, the Old Testament, as .veil as the New, showing her diligent searchings. Truly, her delight was in the law of the Lord, it was always her standard of appeal ; and, by comparing Scrip- ture with Scripture, she grasped its all-sided truth, rejoicing therein as one that findeth great spoil. To her niece Cecilia she wrote : In reading the Scripture it is best to combine plans. Once a day read straight on, with prayer and careful referencing. But always try to give a half hour to Bible : ' I % % ~l t'.'.; 1 ' i » I ! 278 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. What does the Bible say God is \ " I t< study ; work out Bible subjects, and make notes of them. I will give you two or three which I have found profitable. in Himself? to us? ^^ Everlasting.^* Search out and classify the places where it is used. (This is very comforting, " everlasting covenant," *' everlasting joy," etc.) ^^ Called.''^ How is our "calling" described? Unto what are we " called " ? ^^Kcep." Who will keep? Whom does He keep? From what does He keep ? " Able." See how applied to Christ ; arrange in order. Keep a fine steel pen on purpose at hand, and mark the references you thus find in your own Bible, this will greatly enrich it. . . . This plan is very helpful, both for intellectual and spiritual knowledge of His word. it \%.\ ^i i; The other facsimile is taken from one of the fly leaves of my sister's Bible, and shows the way in which sht constantly arranged Bible teachings. Subjects for Prayer. {Found in F. R. H.*s Bible.) (1878-9.) " I have greatly enjoyed the regular praying of the Lord's Prayer, and take a petition each morning in the week. Intercession for others I generally make at even- ing. I take the fruits of the Holy Spirit in the same way, and find this helpful." 2S of bund »laces isting Unto :eep? )rder. k the 5 will ilpful, His le fly- ay in « Ible) >f the n the even- ! way, f!!' t^(l Sji.. •f Vi m -i i \ ' 14. ^ ^^.-/ .,//< /A ^/jtiAfu tj . / /, A- :,r/,-/t werf *fif/^e - 7 J. /! /-? ^ «!-,«•/ '.r •*>ffr/j/>wff^ - J z / // h "f r,..., f lift (Tv-y ?'.^-»: - a 7 /? ^i I'ffr Se. .■ r ,v/ /jrnt.it- /.:? /.r /i.<" / The Epistle of PAUL the Apostle to the HEBREWS. vJOD, who" at eundry times fcnd in (livers maaners, spnkc in time past unto /•>• /,'./^tho fathers Ijy tlie jiropiuits,/'*' /V.yJ£V-7-^, J^-/}.f^ 2 Uatlt'in tliese last days ej)pkcn/ unto - /^. M US by,'-^** Son, whom he hath appointed M' tp./,''h^ir' o{ all t nipga. by whom* also he '/■ ?■ iV. (fnaiTo tho 'worlSei^^c . CfT " \ S Who/ bein^siho brightness (jLhis J'.: /->.J glory, and the czpniss imoRe of hia pcr- /^ //^.///,Bjm. and upholding nlrihings by thoworaJ ■"i/'/i -'".^ AvThis power, when hcNliad by himself iNi •J!L^/jC.'1)ui'B\ any time, Thou' arb^ny Son, this day I br gotten theop Antlagain, I » will be to him a Fat her, and ho smKl be to mn a Son ? 6 * And again, when !io4»riageth in the firatbt'Botten into tho world, ftcsaith, Anri w.T/j/^'lef nil the angels of God worsluyx^im. 7 And fof the angels ho eaituXWho* maketh K'b angds • spirits, and his fhi^is- «Ho.n.3fl, ters ft flame of fire, ViVf.A. 8 But unto the Son he saiih, ThyHf Zrt .<". //^ throne, O God, is for ever and ever : a T. righteousness is tho sceptre cf thy kingdom: 9 'J'hou hast lov<^ righteousness, and hated iniquity ; therefore God, even ttf^ ^d, hnth anointed tlieo with tho oa of esg. above thy fellows. /r gia ? IOIiaA^ Thou." Ivord, in the beginning bast latd the foundation of the earth; and the hcjivcns are the works of thine hands : JJo :? //ll They shalkperuih, but thou rcmain- ?. j;»./fest: and they allSiiiiall wax old aa doth a garment : 12 And as a vesture ^iialt thou fold them up, and they shall bo channcd: but thou art J< ■' 'c :■'. the same, and thy years shatt^not fail. 13 But to whicn of tho angels said h? at any time, Sit-^ on my right Band, until I make thine enemies thy footstool rs 14 Are they not all ministering spuits,' fi^/. // sent forth* to minister for them who shliU be heirs ' of salvation ? ^ .IrrERFFORK wo oui;bt 'o gife the 7),- jL I ; )noro wrnost hi'cd to tho things which we /'<; i.6./(iliav(' Uwird, lest at. any time we should AU . :> /? « lot them slip.'^r . / . ?.■• ' fia I y '.^ 2 For if the word 3pol;ca bx.^gel9/ was stodfast, nod ovi^ry transgros»U)|jt^ and Jisohedit'iico received a just rc^om- ponco of reward ; A^e ,^; .'! How shall we" cso.ipr if w^e'^neplcct ^ '? '■':.-40F''^ great salvatioTi ; which • 'it the first bo- i ■ /. " Rail to be egioken hy thsLiv. i,^d was con- lirmcd unt.0 us by tliem t.l ncard Am ; 4 God» also bearing t/tem witness, both with oigns and wonders, and with divers miracles, and Mgifls of the Holy Ghost /(?,, /? //. according to hia own will ? ^- ^- M- I . 5 For unto the angels hath ho not put , I »n subjection the world to come, wiicreor -L'.>/ «>'h. 12.6.8. vro speak. ' A Do. 18. 15. c Vs. 8.4, Ac. <* I'fl. 2. 8. 32. tps. 45. e^;^ "John 17. 2r rjrigktiieta,ox, liraititeMi. xPb. 22. 23. rPs. 18. 2. Is. 12. 2. 'Is. 8. 18. « Vs. 102. 25. »Jno.l7.8..12 cJno. 1. 14. •il Co. 16. 64. eLu. 1.74. /Ps. 110. 1. ht (akelh not hold qf angelt, but oflheteedof AbriAaM he takeih hold. »P8. 103.21. Da. 7. 10. 19.15,16. PsSm. 7. ■ «o.gSl7. *cii 4.^5^i<^ irriin niif, at^ Ifllkl HiJ 'Ac. 7. 53. HI Nil. 10.31. nchsp.4.1,11, Mar. 1 . 14. >>chap.4. 14. A miuif. 1 Ac. 14. 3. rNu. 12.7. ft or, dittri' htUioni. \Da. ISd 6 But one in a certain place tcsfificfl saving, What is man," that thou art min.i- ful of him ? or the son of man, tha., thou visitest him ? 7 Thou madest him Pa little lowcA. than the angels ; thou crownedst him with " ■ glory and honour, and didst set l»im over the works of thy hands : 8 Thou halt put oil thing', in subjection under his feet, jfor in thai he put all in subjection under him, he left nothinn that it not out under him. But now wc' eeo. / not yet all things put under bjin.'t »■<:'; 9 ifut we see Jesus, who * was made a than the angels, yfor the gjiT- ,cro\vned ■» with glory aiyiif. ; ie» by the grace of God ;e death for every man. 10 l^r it^ccame him,'' for whom' are lU thin^ and styy whom arc alllFitig!!, iiv. -, jnnging nlany sons unto glory, to make the captain r (rf their salvutiou perloct '/ /•''.'/; | thro ugh auflennfeg. ''- .ili_X.8ing praise unto tbee.iV J,// ^Jo And again, JL» will put my trunpiii. . hinh-^ And againrBeholdJJ ami the/cuil- '-i'; dren ^^nch God* hatli given mc-/(r. / 15 And deliver them/w'io throuph fear'/. of death were all thoir lifetime subject to-'A ' bondage. ^^■.^^J* 7 / 15 For verily fAc took not nn Uia ihe nnlure of angelsf but he took on Lim tho seed of Abrahafa. 5/X?' / 4 17 Wherefore in all things it belioved:.'?!? him to b^mado like unto Am brel':rrn, , that ho jUight be a mcrcifuii and f.iitWiil/? y.' high pi^at in things /icr/arninj to Ood, '0/ ruake/ reconciliation )<>r the sins of *A peoHle : A^u. 7S.I3 uvl / C''-- ?? ^ }% For in that he hi.r! ..df hath ."^rip're , . being tem nted. he is nblo to .succptjr Uie;ii\ thdt arc tempted. / CHAPTER IjrT Wherefore, hoiy'^rcthrm, pjir- „. takers of the hca ycnlv calling, eoiisuicr- . the Apostle andS^ujh Tries f of oiir pro- fessioij, Christ Jeswii 2 Wl»o_was ^ithnikto hira tlia; /ap^v -, pointed him, as ^6 MbsM ' tcdi J'aithfvL in all his house. * was made ti J3, yfor the Bjif- with glory anao"* < // grnee of Qod man. for whom' art re airTIuns!?, ill '. - / glory, to make Tutiou purl'ect '/ •'■' -V; 'l- ■ ' hlc'L^i tificth and tlipy/'! • 11" of one: for/Vy;/r) shaiucd to calix?''',' j ;larc thy narae^...'/ midst of tho ■ • to thee.Vf J./y lut jny trus^Mii \< . , _f ami Ihe/cuil- '<■'. he eliiWren arc lood^lie' al«)/r^?.' of tbo same; ntigiit dettrov l>'dcatK that \\lft throuph fear'A, .. time subject to <'■<,'■ not on "hm Vif ok on him the ngs it bcboTed;'?(i ) his brci'i;vn, li* and fj!th(\i!/?V'j| »injTo"Ciod, '0/ le sins of t;^: f halh jHfe, ii.ccBtir tlieiiiX brethren, p.ir- illing, consider- if of our pro- (lii m pri ■ f »y l>t6 :(/ ". M . 6- V. 7> ^' //'. 7 ^^. ■//, J /^ a Hi ■p /oo // s/t Ji . /O. /i. Z\/-e /// // rfi Ps .//?!• no. /. V Ji^ /•»c JL/.<. ^ .1! Ti^A/il vve s/ic-tifd c/, O ht //, o/l VCl IT \er^ri iirn Sec A • t/e. 4U ,}i . / . 7y. ?S .^7VJ. P T. A; .7./; /' ;' -v / /> A, A', .f.' .i/>, .?/. /f. '^' />// ^r/ v./,- 7. '!>. '.'J'./. S- J" . /, ^ ', /». I'a t,i I ri f T.M.J. V, 3«c/.U £\r Jt..^. Fi(/ftn^^:'f/j'TCr./ // 'w. L '.fe. P. if>. 3 : ^-i. /. S^. JCji. S. SO. J?. ?/. 7 \ <- Jr. Jf. /<." DA.3.i^cP ^. /. ^7. 2iatse tm li , I I m ffi : r ' ' t ■ I ': 1 ! ' '■ i ■ ' : ' - ■ 1 5m a ' ! '' ' ) !|, >' ! !f1 ! 1 It 280 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H, Society. (Initials of her eldest sister, all her family, and " Oakhampton servants.") Tuesday. ^* For Longsuffering." That my unconscious influence may be all for Him. " Thy will be done." Intercession for Mildmay (and initials of her brother Henry's children and many Leamington friends). Wednesday. " Gentleness." For spirit of prayer and shadowless communion. " Give us this day our daily bread." Intercession for the universities and public schools, for many friends, for M. V. G. H., and E. C. Thursday. " Goodness." For much fruit to His praise. Soul winning. Spirit of praise. ** Forgive us our trespasses." Local work. Swansea, and Mrs. M . For my sister Ellen, all at Winterdyne, and " the servants." Friday. " Faith." Wisdom to be shown more of His will and commands. " Lead us not into temptation." For my brother and all at U. B. Saturday. " Meekness and Temperance." That the word of Christ may dwell in me richly, open treasures of Thy word to me, fill my seed basket. " Deliver us from evil." For the Church of England and the Queen. Initials of many friends. VISIT TO LONDON 281 Work for 1879: " If the Lord will." (In F. R. H:s Desk.) To write " Starlight through the Shadows," daily book for invalids. Six more Cliurch Missionary Society papers. " Marching Orders." Set " Loyal Responses " to music. * Prepare " Kept " for press. To write " Lilies from the Waters of Quietness " (poem). " About Bible Reading and Bible Marking," magazine article. * " All Things;" work up my notes. ^''Particularly good to me," verses or short article. "The Stray Kitten," juvenile paper. Work up C. S. S. M. anecdotes into papers or book. * Complete twelve " VVayside Chimes " for Home Words, * Select or write " Echoes from the Word " for Day of Days. * Double sets of New Year's mottoes (Caswell). "Bright Thoughts for Dark Days." Series of Irish Sketches for Day of Days. On " Sunday Postal Burdens " ; how to relieve the postmen. " Our Brother " ; or daily thoughts for those who love Him. * " Morning Stars," daily thoughts about Jesus for little ones. " Evening Stars," or promises for the little ones. Complete the series of " Sunday Morn- ing Crumbs." Six poems for Sunday Magazine. [The daily pressure of letters prevented many of these being at- tempted ; * denotes those completed.] January 28th she went to London, visiting Mr. and Mrs. Watson and the Rev. C. Bullock. Other visits were purposed, but singularly frustrated by the appearance of infectious illness in her dear friend's (Mrs. Bullock's) family, and she thought it lii III t\ w 283 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H, \ , .', » f.^ \ i right to return speedily to Wales. The day she went to town I read (at prayers) the Christian Progress chapter for the day, Deuteronomy xxxiii. I- 1 7. Afterwards Frances said : " I wondered if you would read the eighteenth verse. It is a fresh promise for me. You say I belong to the tribe of Zebulun, * them that handle the pen,' and early this morning I read * rejoice Zebulun in thy going out,' and so I do in going to London. I never went a journey I feel so delighted about. I gave up the thought of going, last week, for I wanted to make the most of my time and money for my King, and didn't want to please myself a bit. Then, after prayer about it, that promise seemed to direct my going, ' Certainly I will be with thee,' and I have had no misgiving since." On her return from London her work seemed to increase : letters poured in ; many came for advice or instruction, and she gave up every available moment. I distinctly remember the gladness of her service, delighting to do whatever seemed the will of the Lord. One morning she said to me : " Marie, it is really very remarkable how everything I do seems to prosper and flourish. There is my * Bruey Branch * growing and increas- ing, and now the Temperance work. And so many letters tell me that God is blessing my little w t PARISH AND SCHOOL WORK. 283 books. I thought this morning ivhy it was so ; in the first Psahn we have the condition and the promise : ' his delight is in the law of the Lord ; , . . and whatsoever he docth shall prosper.' You know how I do love my Bible, more and more ; and so, of course, the promise comes true to me." To our Vicar and oth'^r fiiends she sent this simple request for prayer, asking them to sign their own names and secure others to join : " I agree to pray every evening for three months from this date, (God helping me,) for the outpouring of His Holy Spirit upon this parish and neighbour- hood."— F. R. H., March 7, 1879. , It was as answer to this prayer that my sister attributed the awakening interest which much en- couraged her in daily conversations in the cottages around us. In the village school her frequent visits and bright words won the deepest love. To encourage them to learn God's word perfectly, she offered a new Bible to every child who would repeat the 53rd chapter of Isaiah. Good Friday was the day fixed, but she was ill then. A few days after, she was delighted with the perfect repetition by many of the children ; and, though she would not excuse a single mistake, she gave some another trial. I was often struck with the pains she took with f1 rl y by 284 MEMORIALS OF F, li. H, \: I N l! i*J very little children, so really making the gospel story glad news to them. Once she went rather unwillingly to return a stranger's call. She afterwards told me she was quite ashamed of her reluctance (though it arose from weariness), for she had "found such direct work," adding : " I must screw up to a notch higher, and improve all conversations. Certainly my King is very good, to give me such nice little bits of work for Him." In the early part of March, Frances re-wrote and completed her last book, " Kept." She told me she could work but slowly and with some difficulty, owing to pressure of other things. Again and again, she said how strongly she felt that her pen was to be used only for the Master, and how she had found His blessing in that course hitherto. My sister had also begun a series of papers for invalids ; but it seemed strongly impressed on her that the children should have a turn, and so she rapidly wrote " Morning Stars." She was interested in looking over some musical settings to her words by Mr. Purday, an old corre- spondent of our father's. She approved of the title, *' Songs of Peace and Joy" ; and against some of his tunes wrote " very sweet," " very good," " fair, third strain interesting," etc. ''LOVING ALL ALONG:* 285 My dear sister was dcli<^htcd that Messrs. Hutchings and Romer accepted for publication her music to Mr. Prout's words " Loving all Alon S- (ToS.G.P.) , . . About your " Loving all Along." I wrote the music to suit mysell, and 1 never yet found words which were so exactly what I wanted. 1 hope to sing it in many drawing-rooms, it is delightful to do the King's business there, and singing often opens the door for quiet conversations. I do so pray the words may touch some; weary heans under silks and satins, and dress-coats too, may-be. ... All the same, I do not think the song will ever be popular, because it is just one of those which are utterly ruined if stumbled over, or even if well played by one v'ho does not dash off the recitutive-like style with real spuu'fj and bring out the sharp contrasts which give effect. . . . Seriously, dear friend, the points have been carried one after another ; Hutchings and Romer accept- ing it, Sankey saying it haunts him, and taking it to America ; now two prayers, that God will make it accept- able, and most of all that He will let it do real work and send the great power of His Spirit with it. P.S.— The best last ! converted by " N. S, D." He was slightly ill ; I called, talked, and prayed twice or three times, and gave him " Never Say Die." And that was blessed ! Now give thanks I Wi iiitr Vv f m ' i 1^ if" 1 ii ■ '' •i ij ■ . I! i iilH: ', • I *» W N! I" rr r^n ;i!;i-l. i . i ■1 ^ ■•- , ' : ■ : * ;• ■ : i ■ * k ' : ■ i ; ^h III. i ^rr 386 MEMOHIALS OF F. R. H. The Mumbles, March 25, 1879. Dearest G , . . . I am being answered about my " Bruey Branch " to an extent that literally alarms me ! I don't know how I can keep pace with the inllux of young collectors, and the Dublin secretaries are "astonished." I sent up ;^io8 a few days ago, and that is only what comes to me ; Mr. Roe tells me hundreds of " Brucy " cards are being taken all over the kingdom, and I see the whole thing will want com[)lete organizing. I myself have sent up, including Miss E. Titterton's, no less than seventy-nine collectors' lists and amounts, and I begun two years ago with a list of eight collectors, consequently I am believing in prayer a little more than ever 1 The Mumdles, March 28. Dear Willie and Alfred [Shaw]. Is the Green Isle big enough to hold you and me at the same time, do you think ? Because, if it is, I am thinking, please God, of coming over about the begin- ning of June. The real reason why I have made up my mind to brave the terrors of the deep, ue. of the ladies' cabin, is that things are growing so marvellously fast in my department of the Irish Society work, that I must go and see for myself what is being done in the fields of work, and also have a regular consultation at head quarters about organizing the " Bruey Branch, '' which is sprout- ing like anything in all directions. And now the thing is, I want one of you to come with me, (of course at my expense,) on a sort of tour round some of the Irish stations. I think it will be delightful. The fun would WORK FOR THE IRISH SOCIETY. 287 be to nave you both ; but that miqht complicate matters as to accommodation in some of these " backwoods," so how would it be if one of you came, for the first week or two, and then change over ? I thought it would be such a very nice opportunity for you to sec something of the land of your birth beyond the civilization ot college and the metropolis ! Think it over and pray over it, and let me know what conclusion you come to. If one of you could come, you would probably be a great comfort, as you would see to sucli matters as hiring cars for me and other small services. It is not only that I really want to see the work for myself, as I am getting more and more deeply pledged to it, but we have got Mr. Bullock to make the Day of Days a sort of quasi Irish Society organ, he having put two pages of the magazine at our disposal every month, instead of our going to the expense of setting up a separate magazine for the Society's information. This was ray scheme, and we are starting pretty well ; but they want me extremely to write some papers for it, and I tell them I can't make brick without straw, and therefore if I am to write I must go to Treland. Let me know as soon as you can when your term ends, and you would be at liberty. Mr. Fitzpatrick is very anxious to make part of his inspecting tour fit in with mine, so as to show me that part of the work, which of course would be a great advantage to my papers ; but I tell him that I wish, also, to see some of the undress as well as the full parade, so he is to be with us part of the time, and I am to visit some stations by myself. I have stipulated that I only go to observe and take notes, not to take classes or give addresses, as I have not strength for that; and, to keep myself ijH Im s^H \\ 1 '1 "if is ti! ?■ ■..■ ;m iP i-'il'^i i 288 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. fresh for the writing, which I want to do as much as possible on the spot, is far more important. Your loving Aunt. « The following letter refers to the action taken by her on the Total Abstinence question. (^To Eustace Ilavergal.) April 12, 1879. Dear Eustace, — . . . AS to actual signing I only deferred that, that I might use the act at good interest, which I did by getting six persons to sign with me. ... I have found by ex[jerience, as thousands of other Christian workers are finding, that this "outward and visible sign" is just the needed means to prevent the beginnings of that terri- ble evil. See now, I have here eight growing lads, besides several others, all in surroundings of more or less tempt- ation, who have signed my book and are thus helped to say no ; and, instead of swimming with the stream, not one has been into a public house since, trying their best to get others to abstain also. ... I could not feel impatient at your not seeing it yet, because four or five years ago I felt exactly as you do ; but, hearing so much of the great work done by this means, I set myself to pray for clear light and guidance about it, asking that 1 might be able to lay aside prejudice on the one hand, and that I might be kept from going without God's leading on the other. From that time, conviction gradually dawned and deepened in my mind that I could not hold aloof from a movement on which God has set so very evident a seal of blessing. ... Nlliri EASTER VISITORS. aSg Endorsed on a pamphlet dealing with the Total Abstinence question, enclosed in the same letter, is the following. I have gone in altogether for it now, and find it gives me opportunities at once which I had not before. May I, 1879. ... I haven't taken up teetotal work, but teetotal work has taken up me ! Morgan and Scott made me accept a big, handsome, pledge book in February, and somehow the thing has fairly caught fire here. One led to another, and yesterday boys were coming all day to sign ! I had twenty-five recruits yesterday alone, and a whole squad more are coming this evening ! and we are going in for getting every boy in the whole village 1 And now, " Please, miss, mayn't the girls sign ? " So I've got to open a girls' branch as well ! So work grows ! I adopt the title of " The Newton Temperance Regi- ment," to please my boys, who are a strong majority in it, and very hearty about it. I do love these little lads. Our dear and faithful friend, Elizabeth Clay, was with us at Easter. Frances was deeply interested in the details of her Indian journeys and Zenana work, and consulted with her as to the possibility of eventually going to India herself, that she might be able to write for her King in Oriental lan- guages. Frances was not at all well, and a fever- ish cold prevented her from singing when Mr. and Mrs. Sankey paid us a pleasant visit. To them she U I ( t ; t 1 1 ! ) 290 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H. spoke much of the bright City, and that music which alone could satisfy her intense craving. Almost the last time we walked to church to- gether, she turned round to me and said : " Marie, I Ve come to the conclusion it will be very nice to go to heaven ! The perfect harmony, the per- fect praise, no jarring tunes. You don't know the intense enjoyment it is to me to sing in part music. I don't think I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus and not sing it ; but there — ! " Another Sunday evening, not being able to go to church, she called Mary to read with her. Search- ing into the meaning of those words (John viii. 51), " If a man keep My saying he shall never see death," her crmclusion was, " so, when we come to die, our eyes will so really see Jesus Himself ^"aX we shall not see death." Thus it was to her : " Death is a hushed and glorious tryst, With Thee, my King, my Saviour Christ 1 " Truly, her loyal life shone brightly, day by day. Her appeals stirred many a one to choose the King's service. I think it was in April she took (once only) the Young Women's Christian Asso- ciation meeting in Swansea for her friend, Mrs. Morgan. They well remember how she played and sang with them, "Precious Saviour, may I live, only for Thee ! " (to her tune " Onesimus.") I'la THE LAST MONTH. 291 day. i the took \sso- Mrs. ayed lay I lUS. ) At the close of her address she took round to each a copy of " Take my life, and let it be Consecrated, Lord, to Thee/* with a blank space, where each might sign her name who could do so, in true and loyal allegiance. My dear sister ahvays went to such meetings, in the truest humility of spirit. She often said, " I can only ask the Lord to give me words ; I am only learning, myself, day by day " ; but a real power seemed to rest on all her words, and espe- cially during the last years. Our friend the Baroness Helga von Cramm joined us in May. She thought dear Frances looking well and young and bright. We had some pleasant seaside walks ; and Frances sat by her friend, on the sands, when she sketched the " Mumbles Lighthouse." Many kind friends near us, and their children and servants, wondered at the sweetness and power with which my sister spoke to them for and of her Lord and King. {To Mrs, H.) May 5, 1879. Thank God for her ! and thank God that you are able to thank Him. I never read anything sweeter than Nony's welcome to her Lord's coming for her. I have ventured to keep a copy of your beautiful letter to . Si ! t \ Ml' I ' 1 i.' I '. In < i 391 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. Would you let me make some extract from it in my next circulars ? I should so like to tell my dear little collectors about Nony, whose name will be highest on the list in the next report. I feel it such a privilege to have been permitted to number this little saint of God among my little band of collectors. One from the seniors (E. R. N.)* and one from the juniors are " safe home" now, and both such abundant entrances. How beautiful Nony must be now ! Yours, in most loving sympathy. (To the same^ May 20. ... On farther consideration and prayer, I see that I cannot write Nony's memoir, at least not unless the autumn shapes itself quite differently from what God is at present indicating. After Christmas, I may be free to decide on fresh work, and then I might try and do my best. But I think you would not like to postpone the memoir so long. . . . t EXTRACTS FROM LAST LETTERS. May 17, 1879. Dear Mr. Snepp, — I cannot forbear just a line of affectionate sympathy in reply to yoiu note. And I do so rejoice with you in the brighter parts of it. I begin my Irish campaign, please God, on June 4th ; * E, R. Nicholas, Esq., long revered in Bewdley, who died April 30, 1879, the day before little Nony. + Ihis memoir of her little friend is now published by Messrs. Nisbet & Co., "The Memorials of Little Nony." ''SUNDAY MORArnVG CRUMBS." 293 I Stay first with the good Bishop of Cashel. Really a wonderful little Temperance work here; all the rising generation have joined the pledge except about twelve, and now the men want to speak to me, and I am to meet them to-night at ♦^he corner of the village (open air, having no place else) with my pledge book. I have got 118 pledged, and each with prayer over it, and personal talk about better things. In haste, etc., etc. (To Mrs. Charles Bullock.) ... I do not want to work out a text this morn- ing because I want to give the same time to working a few, in the chapter for to-day, with the Baroness. But I choose for next Sunday (May 18) i Kings v. 17 : " The Kitig" '•'"commanded^' ^^ great stones,''* "costly stones^* ^^ hewed stones" ^^fomidation of the housed* Those six points will bear a lot of referencing; the point that struck me being that all these great, costly, and hewed stones were to be laid out of sight, yet making the strong and needed foundation for a beautiful superstructure. Do you see my thought ? This lettef leads to the remark that for many months my dear sister had selected texts on some verse in the Christian Progress chapter for Sunday mornings. She sent them on postcards to her friend Mrs. Bullock on the previous Fridays, calling them " Sunday Morning Crumbs." We give only two others, for her friend will publish them with the title of " My Bible Study." Ill 3: •m \ 4 ill V "I Hi; ' • P i ili H.'SI r 1 i''t4 • > i X , jut it 4t ^ : >■ Rft's "' 1 i ; If t I, 1 i ; I 1 1 I ': ■ '!|. 294 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. Zech. vi. 1 1 : " Make crowns, and set them on the head of Joshua the high priest." Rev. xix. 12 : " Many, crowns." Is it not our privilege to have something to do with preparing the crowns, and the jewels in them ? You see it is "make," not merely "take." Meanwhile "we see" Him already "crowned with glory and honour" (Heb. ii. 9). Outsiders don't see it at all, and many of us don't " see " because we don't steadily " look." I suppose it is the coronation day of Jesus in our hearts when we "take " all that is most precious to us, typified by the silver and gold, and " make crowns " with it for Him in the double aspect of High Priest, i.e. Atoner and Mediator, and Joshua our accepted and recognised " Leader and Commander." May 23, 1879. For May 25: i Kings xii. 24, "This thing is from Me " (railway to ver. 15). If anything wasn't from the Lord, one would have thought Rehoboam's infatuation was that thing ! So, it seems a lesson of acquiescence in those most difficult things to acquiesce in, i.e. what seem to arise from man's (or lad's) foolishness and tryingness. See 2 Cor. v. 18, "all things "; and 2 Cor. iv. 15. Compare Gen. xlv. 8, and 1. 20. . . . So thankful for the good news in your note, as to both your sister t. ^ your friend. Thanks for your dear husband's. Very kind to register it ! .>» CHAPTER XV. The Last Week. The donkey-boy — My Temperance regiment — Work on the village bank — Sailor friends — Helga's pictures — •• God's will delicious " — Good Mary and kind nurse — *' How good and kind to come ! " — The last Sunday — The last hymns — Last messages — "Do speak bright words for Jesus" — The last song at the Golden Gate — With the King — Astley Churchyard. MY dear sister Frances had promised to meet some men and boys on the village bank on May 2ist. Though the day was very dankp, she went, taking her Bible and her Temperance book with her. While standing a long time on this cold spot, heavy clouds came up from the Channel, and she returned, wet and chilly with the rain and mist ; even then some were waiting for her to i:peak to them. May 22nd, being Ascension Day, she wished to go to church with our friend, but looked so poorly that I urged her to come for the Communion only. She was very tired, and took a donkey home. As she passed through our village of Newton, quite a procession gathered round her, her regiment of boys eagerly listening. Her donkey '11 m V ■ fi t i ; 1 lit m r 11 ] n I kii i\\m ■ i --' i! I r b ^- 111 I :, ? aifil 1 1 r' li if' 296 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. boy, Fred Rosser, remembers that Miss Frances told him " I had better leave the devil's side and get on the safe side ; that Jesus Christ's was the winnings side ; that He loved us and was calling us, and wouldn't I choose Him for my Captain ? " Arriving at home, Frances ran in for her book, and on the saddle Fred signed the pledge. A young sailor, W. Llewellyn, was going to sea the next day. Frances was anxious to speak to him, and in the evening went to the cottage. He signed the book and heard one of her closing messages ;* and this was the last time her feet were " Swift and beautiful for Thee." That evening she spoke to several ; her intense earnestness, her pleading words in the kitchen, are not forgotten. To our worthy landlord, his wife and boys, she spoke loving words. David and Johnnie Tucker will not forget how often she had them in her study. May 2'i^rd. The chilliness increased ; and though she was in her study as usual, I requested the doctor to see my dear sister, and desired him to come again. The Temperance meeting was to be held in the evening, and my sister arranged 150 large Temperance cards, then to be given. Very * His last letter, from Brazil, states that he has faithfully kept the pledge. THE LAST WEEK. 297 i"i cheerfully she gave up the wish to go, saying {so like her I) "You will do all so much better than I can ; will yoii give them two messages from me : to those who have signed, * Behold God Himself is . . . our Captain' (2 Chron. xiii. 12) ; to those who have not signed, * Come thou with us, and we will do thee good ' (Num. x. 29)." Our Vicar and Mr. Bishop, from Swansea, were to be present ; and to them she sent her good wishes and request for bright short addresses. While we were at the meeting, she was stitching strong paper tract-bags for sailors at sea, till she felt ill and Mary assisted her into her room. A feverish night ensued. Saturday, 2\th. Ovr friend, the Baroness, left us ; but she was not uneasy about Frances. In the afternoon my sister asked me to rearrange her pictures near her bed. " Put Mary Fay's text next to me, * Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to- day, and for ever " ; above that, * Sunrise from the Bel Alp,' and * The Glacier of La Tour.' " I read to her the text painted by Helga, on the rock : *' I saw a sea of glass, clear as crystal." Frances said, " Strangely sweet ! tell Helga her pictures take my thoughts away from the pain, — up there." Then Frances asked me to place " my own text," " the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth from all sin"; and beyond it Emily Coombe's illumination, " I reckon that the sufferings," etc. m I t 'ff 298 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. -J fi, \\ \ ■ r] J < The following are her last notes, in pencil. {To Miss £, Titterton.) May 23, 1879. Dearest Emily, — I am laid up again with a return of these feverish attacks, which the doctor says are really from debility ; so must only send love, and assure you that whatever is the reason of no answer, it can't possibly be that Mrs. P. is " offended " — that 's not the last possibility, but an /^possibility ! It may be that she does not see her way and is in a fix wi;at to say ; this is highly probable, as the Mildmay institutions are, financially, at a low ebb, and of course she must throw all available strength into this. I have got the whole rising generation of the village to sign the pledge (all between eight and sixteen), except two boys who won't sign, three who broke, and one girl " going to sign " ! Also about fifty grown-ups. My little lads are splendid : such hearty enthusiasm about it ! Temperance meeting to-night, at which I was popularly supposed to be going to speak ! but I have to entrust it all to others under God. I dare not let the fact transpire that I can't go. They are such affectionate people, these poor Welsh. If I am able to go to Ireland (June 4), I will explain to Mr. Fitzpatrick about pence cards for you and the Bruey Branch. ... The Mumbles, May 24. Dear Mr. Watson, — I am in bed again with another of these tryingly fre- quent feverish attacks, and am writing on the back of your own letter, not having other paper within reach ! THE LAS! WEEK. 299 The fact is, I have knocked myself up with this Tem- perance work ; but having got the whole rising generation of the village into my Temperance regiment, except four naughty little black sheep, seems to me quite worth being knocked up for ! I am sorry I demurred to Dr. B.'s book appearing in my special livery ; it was rather small of me, and I feel small accordingly. I forgot to say that the subject is one of my unfinished " invalid book " papers, but I don't think I need sacrifice it, need I ? I could put a footnote, something of this sort— "For fuller and far better thoughts on this passage, my readers are referred to the * Brook Besor,' by Andrew A. Bonar, D.D.," etc. I have had such a kind letter from Dr. Macduff, send- ing me " Palms of Elim." I like it best of his, since the " Faithful Promiser." Maria says I must not write any more. Yours ever, F. R. H. Of Sunday I have kept no account. May 26th. She could not attend to her letters, but corrected the proof of "Morning Stars," on the text "I am the bright and morning Star"; and then the pen so long used in the service of her King was laid down. She was not suffering very much, lying quietly in bed, her pet kittens Trot and Dot on her duvet. Sh6 rather astonished her doctor by saying, " Do you think I've a chance of going V* He told her that she was not seriously ill ; and asked if she really liked lying there, and in pain. m h Mi I, i,Si 30O MEMORIALS OF F. R. It. ■UM v^ lilili !, ■1 ; \ I. Frances. "Yes, I do ; it is as if an errand-boy- were told to take a message, and afterwards the master bids him not to go. I was going to Ireland next week, hoping to write for the Irish Society, but God has upset all my plans, and it 's all right." The last passage she looked at in her Bible was the Christian Progress chapter for May 28th (Rev. ii. i-io). She asked Mary to read it for her, dwelling on " Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life," bidding her turn to the reference in James i. 12. (It is remarkable that the same promise of " the crown of life " was the last passage our dear father ever read.) May 2<^th. Fever and internal inflammation rapidly came on, and all the symptoms and agony of peritonitis. God seemed to permit severest suffering, and all remedies failed. But her peace and joy shone through it all, while her patience and unselfish consideration for others were most striking, arranging that all who nursed her should rest also. When we were distressed for her, she whispered, "It's home the faster!" She told Mary she was quite sure now she should never go to Ireland, adding, "God's will is delicious; He makes no mistakes." Our good Mary was a great comfort at all times. May ydth. She was speaking of justification by THE LAST WEEK. 301 faith : " Not for our own wotks or dcscrvings ; oh, what vanity it seems now to rest on our own obedience for salvation, any merit of our own takes away the glory of the atoning blood. ' Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood,' that *s it." M. " Have you any fear ? " F. " Why should I ? Jesus said * It is finished,* and what was His precious blood shed for? /trust thatr Another time : " I am sure ' I am not worthy to be called His son,' or His servant, but Jesus covers all ; I am unworthy, but in Him complete." The last letter she could listen to was from my brother Frank's twin sons, and her message was : " Thank Willie for that nice text, * Sorrow may endure for a night, but joy cometh \w the morning'; and I do hope that Willie and Ethelbert will be ambassadors for Christ ; even if they are not clergymen, may they win souls." To her sister Ellen : " I have not strength to send messages to yours. I should have liked my death to be like Samson's, doing more for God's glory than by my life ; but He wills it otherwise." £/Un. " St. Paul said * The will of the Lord be done,' and 'let Christ be magnified, whether by my life or by my death.' " I think it was then my beloved sister whispered ; Ifil 1. Em t I'M' ^ f IT'' ' i i 'I »:i 111 ^ ! i 1 11 302 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. "Let my own text, 'the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth us from all sin " be on my tomb ; all the verse, if there is room." 1 must mention the skilful and tender care of the nurse, Sarah Carveley (from the Derby Institute). A year before, when in perfect health, Frances had playfully said, " You must come and nurse me." The constant sickness was very distressing, and nothing alleviated the agonizing pain ; but my sister's patient endurance was most lovely, trying to comfort usy and thanking us so sweetly for all we did. Another time she said : " Marie dear, God is dealing differently with me in this illness ; I don't know what He means by it ; no new thoughts for books or poems come now." Then, " Will you ask the Lord Jesus it may not be long before He speaks to me Himself some little love token." I knelt and asked that He would speak " peace" to her, even as He did to His disciples. F. " I have peace, but it *s Himself I am longing for." M. " The little boats on the stormy sea had not to row back to Jesus ; He drew nigh to them, and said, * It is I, be not afraid.' " Saturday afternoon she was very ill and feverish, saying, " I know now what it means, * my tongue .^:rr~ THE LAST WEEK, 303 cleaveth to my gums.' " When fanning her she said, " Marie, you have made this last year of my life the brightest." M. " Do you at all regret coming here ?" F. " I should think not ; the pleasante'^t time I ever had, delicious ! " Whit Sunday she felt better and was able to talk a little to her brother and sisters, saying : " How good and kind to come ! Frank, do you remember when we knelt together at dear papa's dying bed, what you said to me } ^ It so comforted me. Ever since I trusted Jesus altogether^ I have been so happy. I cannot tell how lovely, how precious. He is to me." Her doctors were most watchful, and Frances expressed her confidence in them and declined further advice. She asked them, " V/hat is the element of danger 1 " " You are seriously ill, and the inflammation is increasing." F, " I thought so, but if I am going it is too good to be true ! " In the early dawn of Whit Monday Frances said to me : " 'Spite of the breakers, Marie, I am so happy ; God's promises are so true. Not a fear." About 8 a.m. we thought she was departing, and asked for her brother. He knelt by her, in- quiring if he should pray. " Yes ; let it be a 1 1? m ' li ! "■f , ■i * r ih::i I t: i . M 304 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. sacramental service." She softly but emphatically joined in the words, " Therefore with angels," etc. Reverently, she asked her brother to say the (ad- ministration) words " once for all." After some peaceful rest, she whispered : " Frank dear, it is not the performance of the rite, no safety in that] but it is obedience to His command and as a remembrance of His dying love "; to which he assented. When one of her doctors was leaving he said, " Good-bye, I shall not see you again." F. " Then do you really think I am going ? " Dr. "Yes." F. "To-day.?" Dr. "Probably." F. " Beautiful, too good to be true ! " Soon after she looked up smiling. " Splendid to be so near the gates of heaven ! " (Again and again we heard this, and " So beautiful to go ! " through the last hours.) To Frank : " Will you sing 'Jerusalem, my happy home,' to papa's tune * St. Chrysostom,'* and play it on my harp-piano. Sing from the copy that has * Jesus my Saviour dwells therein, In glorious majesty ; And Him through every stormy scene I onward press to see ! ' No. 53, ** Haveigal's Psalmody." THE LAST WEEK, 30s Oh, it is the Lord Jesus that is so dear to me, I can't tell how precious ! how much He has been to me ! " Afterwards she asked for " How sweet the name of Jesus sounds," to the same tune. The Vicar of Swansea came for a few minutes. He said : " You have talked and written a great deal about the King ; and you will soon see Him in His beauty. Is Jesus with you now } " F. "Of course! It's splendid! I thought He would have left me here a long while ; but He is so good to take me now. Give my love to dear Mrs. Morgan, and tell all the Association (Y. W. C. A.) that what she and I have told them is all right, God's promises are all true, and the Lord Jesus is a good big foundation to rest upon. A.sk Mr. A to speak plainly about Jesus. I want all young clergymen to be faithful ambassadors, and win souls. Tell Mr. W I can never thank him enough for his help. Oh, I want all of you to speak bright, BRIGHT, words about Jesus, oh, do, do ! It is all perfect peace, I am only waiting for Jesus to take me in." Soon after her friend Mrs. Morgan came, and Frances whispered : " There is no bottom to God's mercy and love ; all His promises are true, not one thing hath failed." In the afternoon, she asked us if it was wrong 'I } 11 I' < I' 3o6 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. 1 1 fir s r: i ? to groan when in such pain. We told her how very, very patient she had been ; that even her doctors had noticed it, and her calmness. F. " Oh, I am so glad you tell me this. I did want to glorify Him, every step of the way, and especially in this suffering. I hope none of you will have five minutes of this pain." Her brother sang " Christ for me " ; and Ellen repeated "On Christ the solid Rock I stand, All other ground is sinking sand"; adding "I want to rejoice more for you, dear Frances ; you are on the Rock, and we want no other.'-' F. " It is the one God has laid for us." Many times she whispered : " Come, Lord Jesus, come and fetch me ; oh, run, run." Then, " Do you think I shall be disappointed ? " " No, dearest, we are quite sure you are going to Him now." F., smiling, " I think Jesus will be glad." On Tuesday, June 3rd, Whit Tuesday, at dawn the change came. One of her sisters repeated, " When thou passest through the waters I will be with thee." F, " He must keep His word." Isaiah xli. 10 was repeated incorrectly \ she % THE LAST WEEK. vn whispered it correctly for us. After a short doze, she exclaimed : " I am lost in amazement ! There hath not failed one word of all His good promise ! " She just spoke of Miss Leigh's work in Paris, and her friend Margaret C. there, adding " Strange I think of it now." Whispering the names of many dear ones, she added " I love them all." Then, as it were with her last look on them from the opening golden gates, she said yearningly " I want all to come to me in heaven ; oh, don't, don't disappoint me, tell them ' Trust Jesus.' " Ellen repeated : (altering the word " canst ") "Jesus, I will trust Thee, Trust Thee with my soul ; Guilty, lost, and helpless. Thou hast made me whole : There is none in heaven. Or on earth, like Thee; Thou hast died for sinners, Therefore Lord for w^." Clearly, though faintly, she sang the whole verse, to her own tune " Hermas." Then came a terrible rush of convulsive sickness. It ceased ; the nurse gently assisting her, she nestled down in the pillows, folded her hands on ..: 3o8 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. her breast, saying, " There, now it is all over I Blessed rest ! " A.nd now she looked up steadfastly as if she saw the Lord ; and, surely, nothing less heavenly could have reflected such a glorious radiance upon her face. For ten minutes, we watched that almost visible meeting with her King, and her counte- nance was so glad, as if she were already talking to Him. Then she tried to sing ; but after one sweet high note, "HE ," her voice failed ; and, as her brother commended her soul into her Redeemer's hand, she passed away. Our precious sister was gone, — satisfied, — glorified, — within the palace of her King I Mi; . . . "So she took .... The one grand step, beyond the stars of God, Into the splendour, shadowless and broad, Into the everlasting joy and light. The zenith of the earthly life was come. ,u i ! <« s ' What then ? Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard ! Wait till thou too hast fought the noble strife, And won, through Jesus Christ, the crown of life 1 • Then shalt thou know the glory of the word, Then as the stars for ever, ever shine, Beneath the King's own smile, perpetual zenith thine 1 " over! f she venly upon Imost lunte- ilking r one liled ; :o her icious n the eard ! life ! ine ! " I i i1 ;;; ^ ; f ' 1 ■ : • m ^y> ;i I The Tomh, Asiley Churchyard, iS-jg (from a DRAWINO HY THR nARONESS H7,I.nA VON CRAMM.) THE LAST WEEK. 309 ■:^«^ On Monday, June gth, at 6 a.m., the villagers and others assembled on the lawn while her flower-crowned coffin passed out. The Rev. S. C. Morgan, Vicar of Swansea, addressed them after we had left for Worcestershire. Many relatives and friends joined us at Stour- port, following our beloved sister to her father's tomb in Astley churchyard. A golden star^ of Banksia roses, a poet's wreath of laurel and bay, and many white crowns, were laid upon her. There, within sight of her birth-room in the rectory, and under the branches of the fir-tree her father planted, (and, away beyond, the hills and valleys of her childhood's haunts encircling us,) we laid our dear sister in sure and certain hope of her *' resurrection to eternal life." The following is the inscription, on the nortii side of our dear father's tomb, in Astley church- yard ; ^^ FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL, Youngest Daughter of the Rev. W. H. Havergal, AND Jane his Wife. Born at Astley Rectory, 14th December, 1836. Died at Caswell Bay, Swansea, 3rd June, 1879. Aged 42. By her writings in prose and verse, she, " being dead yet speaketh." IM.) " The blood of jfesus Christ, His Son, deanseth us from all sin/* I John i. 7. %m 310 MEMORIALS OF F. R, H. There had been heavy storms all day, even as she had passed through many (and our own storm- grief had been bitter and desolating). But the sunshine came, just as the service was ending, and the birds suddenly sang sweetly all around. Very hushing was the thought that our dear sister's life had been the prelude of the everlasting song ; and that she was then looking upon the face of her King, and praising Him " evermore, and ever- more. >i 1 'J ■ \'\ :.':. j *^ Worthy of all adoration Is the Lamb that once was slain," Cry, in raptured exultation, His redeemed from every nation ; Angel myriads join the strain ; Sounding from their sinless strings Glory to the King of kings; Harping, with their harps of gold. Praise which never can be told. Hallelujahs full and swelling Rise around His throne of might. All our highest laud excelling, Holy and Immortal, dwelling In the unapproachbd light. He is worthy to receive All that heaven and earth can give. Blessing, honour, glory, might. All are His by glorious right. THE LAST WEEK. 311 As the sound of many waters Let the full Amen arise 1 Hallelujah ! Ceasing never, Sounding through the great For Ever, Linking all its harmonies ; Through eternities of bliss, Lord, our rapture shall be this; And our endless life shall be One Amen of praise to Thee I (F. R. H.) " Unto Him that loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God and His Father ; to HiM be glory and dominion, for ever and ever. Amen." ■4 I'll 11*1 ' f • h ^ i>^. I i m JESUS, I WILL TRUST THEE. " I will trust in Thcc. "—/**. Iv. 93. Jesus, I will trust The?, trust Thee with my soul ; Guilty, lost, and helpless, Thou canst make me whole. There is none in heaven or on earth like Thee : Thou hast died for sinners — therefore, Lord, for me, Jesus, I may trust Thee, name of matchless worth, Spoken by the angel at Thy wondrous birth ; Written, and for ever, on Thy cross of shame, Sinners read and worship, trusting in that name. Jesus, I must trust Thee, pondering Thy ways, Full of love and mercy, all Thy earthly days : Sinners gathered round Thee, lepers sought Thy ' None too vile or loathsome for a Saviour's grace. Jesus, I can trust Thee, trust Thy written word. Though Thy voice of pity I have never heard. When Thy Spirit teacheth, to my taste how sweet- Only may I hearken, sitting at Thy feet. Jesus, I do trust Thee, trust without a doubt : •' Whosoever cometh, Thou wilt not cast out." Faithful is Thy promise, precious is Thy blood — These my soul's salvation. Thou my Saviour God I Mary Jane Walker, 1864. Tune, Hermas ; No. 105, in " Havergal's Psalmody." jf — I ^^_| ^ &-^=c ?= M rff: t=L::l: i i :cr Je - sus, I will trust Thee, trust Thee with my soul ; ! ^5 ^il ,_ -&z.zzzi=rz\ T lEi.:±^-i=iiS£k^J f^f^ <&«»- f-^---r=-|^ H Guilt - y, lost, and hel ' - less. Thou canst make me whole. :5b=it ^^=1 m — ^ — ^ ' i;r«j Kill .1 ' , ( •.1 ' ! i h' {''' ,■ \\ ■■ ' ^ \ ■' .'1 ■ ," ' ' APPENDIX. Fragments. By F. R. H The Dream Cathedral Christmas Decorations United Bible Reading " All Things " Words about Work Motto Verses, for Open Air Mission Workers Excerpts : on Music, etc. • • • A "Line Left Out »» Letters, etc. By Rev. C- B. Snepp, Miss Clay, Miss Ada Leigh, "B. M.," Miss Kirchhoffer, Bishop Alexander, etc. F. R. H. Church Missionary Memorial Fund . F. R. H. and Church Pastoral-Aid Society • F. R. H. and Irish Society Work In Memoriam. By various Authors PAGE 315 319 321 324 334 338 340 343 344 361 370 371 376 ■ 11 ili APPENDIX. ''^ PAOR 3»5 319 321 324 334 338 . 340 . 343 tc. 344 361 370 371 376 THE DREAM CATHEDRAL. {^The outline of this early composition (1852) was a real dream. '\ I STOOD in the nave of a strangely magnificent cathedral. Such a cathedral it was as seemed to be the very embodiment of the highest ideal of beauty and grandeur. Around me were fluted '-.-Iiimns of snowy marble, enriched with carvings of foliage, such ;is the artist might have seen in a vision of Eden, meeting abo\e in pointed arches, whose upward curve seemed to beckon heavenwards and to speak of celestial aspirings ; the floor was marble too, and as unsullied in its whiteness as the dewy petal of a lily, ere the dusty breath of day has passed upon it, and telling me of purity and innocence ; then the vaulted roof, the union of those arching columns, with, its dim twilight of undefined yet beauLiful inter- lacings, spoke of holy mysteries. There were long shadowy aisles stretching far away, and their whispering echoes suggested sacred solitude and retirement. There were mnrble steps leading up to a screen of such cunning work that the very stone seemed to breathe forth beauty, and, if possible, to shadow forth the loveliness of religion. And beyond this were glimpses of such a choir, so wonderful in its transcendent beauty, as seemed scarcely fitted for mortal worshippers to kneel within. All this was seen, as it were, through the veil of a softened, shadowy radiance, poured through windows whose Gothic tracery enclosed, not stained glass, but a mosaic of the most gorgeous gems, casting the glow of their rich deep colouring on portions of the fair whiteness of pillar and arch and pavement, bathing all in a light, splendid even in the solenmity of its dimness. Scarcely had admira ion and wonder time to unfold, when the h'lji 1'r % iiwil ;i?a ;■ t .. m-^\\: '-i> 316 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. % \ Ki' 1 tones of cathedral music swelled through the marvellous temple. Soft and sweet as a ymphony of angel harps, the sound seemed to enwreathe itself around the marble shafts, and to melt into the dark vaultings of the lofty roof, as though there were some strange affinity between them ; and then, at every pause, it hovered away far down the lessening aisles, till the whole building was like one great living instrument. Then voices came floating down that glorious nave : sweet and melodious, shall I call them ? words do not express what those voices were ; and the anthem which they chanted was such as Handel might dream, perhaps, but never wrote. Do you not know what it is to see something very beautiful, and yet feel unsatisfied? to hear the sweetest sounds, and yet feel they might be sweeter? to enjoy the greatest apparent delight, and yet feel that it is not the perfection of happiness? I cannot think that the human spirit is ever positively and absolutely satisfied ; it is too great, too vast, (though we scarcely know it,) to be filled with any- thing on earth ; its real ideal is never found ; it is ever striving and yearning after something greater, higher, lovelier ; and its Maker is its only satisfaction. But I was satisfied. It was the perfection of beauty, the per- fection of enjoyment ; my longings realized, and more still. All this seemed to carry my heart upwards, I felt filled with joyful de- votion, and adoration was the keynote of the silent anthem of my spirit. Then the thought came across me: "Can it be that such a temple is unfavourable to true devotion ? can it be that a spirit could remain earthbound here, and not soar Tar, far upwards, in the holiest, happiest, adoration?" Suddenly I heard a voice, clear, calm, and very grave, though I saw not the speaker. It spoke to me'. '* Your Saviour is here, you have long sought Him, He is about to manifest Himself to you. See! He is standing there in His own glorious Person!" In an instant all else had lost its interest. Oh ! it was so strange, that sudden revulsion of feeling. Fancied devotion gave way to the reality of the intensest earnestness ; the temple in all its fascinating grandeur was nothing, absolutely nothing; His Presence there was the only tiling I longed for. I gazed intently where the voice indi- cated ; I saw One standing alone, and knew and/ilt that it was Himself. But the many-lined shadow of one of the gem-filled ^'■\,:'' APPENDIX, 317 windows fell upon His Form, and I could not discern its outline, much less His countenance. " Listen !" said the voice again ; *' He is speaking to you. Are not His words sweet and gracious !" But a fresh burst of music pealed from the organ, the voices of the invisible choristers rose higher and loiider, and the tide of melody carried away the sound of ;hat heavenly Voice, whose words would have oeen more than life to me. Oh, how each note grated upon me ! how I hated the music, which drowned the gentle tones of that Voice ! I determined to approach, and at least be gladdened by His look, though His words might not reach my ear. I hastened on, but the marble steps grew in height under my feet, and I could not ascend them as quickly as I thought to do, each one seemed a mountain. But He was t . ning to look on me, and something seemed to tell me certainly that He was going to rejoice me with one of His own sweet smiles, another instant, and His eye would have met mine, when one of the fluted pillars suddenly rose in front of me, the blessed moment was gone, and He passed away down one of the dim shadowy aisles. In desperation I rushed on, as if every hope, every desire, of a lifetime were concentrated in that one passing instant ; I gained the entrance of the aisle, when the exquisite screen, which a moment before had so charmed me, stretched itself in defiance across it, barring the only way by which I could read; the departing Saviour. He was gone ! and all seemed «. hanged to darkness and discord. In the very agonies of regret and despair I sank on the pavement, and awoke! The moral, so to speak, of this dream will be apparent to every one. What is earthly beauty to a soul longing for its Saviour, and thirsting for His grace ? What are externals compared to internals? But I would not be misunderstood, there is no reason why the other extreme should be advocated, I am, and always have been, a warm admirer of those time-honoured ornaments of our land, the crown jewels, as it were, of our outward and visible Church, our English cathedrals. He who giveth us all things richly to enjoy must have awakened, or rather created, those though- s of beauty which ex- pressed themselves in these glorious temples, notwithstanding the tainted atmosphere of superstition which then darkened our land ; mm 'M\ ! i-> I* ' ^1 iff ' t p J 318 MEMORIALS OF F. K. //. and if their original purpose, the setting forth of Jehovah's praise and glory, is sometimes far from being attained, the fault is not in the temples, but in those who do not within them worship God in spirit and truth. It is not the grace and grandeur of their archi- tecture which frustrate their noble object, but the earthliness of men's hearts, which rises not above pillar and roof and spire, but lies like the cold pavement itself, resting in things seen and temporal. If it be true that "unto the pure all things are pure," just as true is '.t that, to the unrenewed mind and unwatchful heart, the holiest things may and do become snares and stumbling blocks ; satisfied with the beauty of earthly sanctuaries, and the solemnity of mere earthly forms, they yearn not for the "beauty of the Lord our God," who "dwelleth not in temples made with hands." But the soul of one who knows Him who is "altogether lovely," and longs for the day when he shall "see the King in His beauty," while rejoicing in, and loving, our old cathedrals in their ancient, hoariness, will yet esteem them as nothing in comparison with the higher things on which his heart is set. And it will probably be found that, after all, he who thus gives such things their right and subordinate place has the purest enjoyment in, and the truest appreciation of, those ancient fanes which have stood for centuries, the silent witnesses of the beauty of religion. May each one who reads this drcv^m find, and know, and rejoice in that Saviour, whose whisper of pardoning love is sweeter than earth's sweetest music, whose smile of acceptance is lovelier than earth's loveliest scene ! May he himself become a " temple of the Holy Ghost," bright with the beauty of holiness, and shining in the light of tiie countenance of our God ! F. R. H. t ^1 ,i i"f ii] APPENDIX. 319 CHRISTMAS DECORATIONS. in the When our young friends use their taste, and skill, in what seems, on the surface of things, a sacred work, — the beautifying of God's sanctuary for a holy festival, do they ever consider that, whatever the theoretical aim may be, the practical . result is, necessarily and distinctly, temptation? Temptation, moreover, in exact propoition to the taste and skill displayed ! The experience of every honest conscience shows that when we, who naturally love all that is beautiful, enter a church beautifully decorated, the temptation to wandering eyes and thoughts is just in proportion to the exquisite- ness and elal)orateness of the decorations. We have come to seek Jesus, to find the Shepherd "by the footsteps of the flock" ; we want to commune with Ilim, and we want Him to speak to our hearts ; we want to be freshly and specially " looking unto Jesus " in all the meaning of that word, looking away from all else, looking unto Him, And at once our eye is cauglr. by an elegant festoon, and a singularly effective twining of a pillar or picking out of a mould- ing, and a most charming device on the reading desk, and a novel arrangement of the panels of the pulpit. It is all lovely, much prettier than last year, the general effect is so good, and so on. And suddenly we remember what we came for, and we make a great effort to turn away our eyes and fix them on "Jesus only " ; but somehow the electric chain has been severed, the other things have entered in ; and when we again look up, to meet the smile of the "Prince of Peace," we find there has been *' something be- tween" ; our eyes have involuntarily lu.aed away from the "King in His beauty" to the passing prettiness of garland and wreath. What have we not lost ? But simple texts of Scripture I see no objection to. The dilemma for the decorators is, do they wish their work to be looked at and admired, or do they not? If not, v/hy put it where it must attract the eye? But if they do, let them remember that the mind cannot be equally occupied with two things at the same time ; and that the moments spent in admiring gaze on their graceful work cannot be spent in adoring gaze on the Lord of Christmas, the Altogether Lovely One. i iSt: I ill K I li IFF u '■ 1 i I '' C ; -3 i**: N ! i ,Vi'^ 'ill ?(■( 320 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. But there is something to be said for "Christmas decorations," where they will lead to no wandering tiioughts in worship. If our bright young decorators could but see the gleam, on suffering or aged faces, when "a bit of Christmas" reaches the lonely lives in a hospital or workhouse ward ; if they would but listen to the echo from the Mount of Olives, '* Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me"; surely they would gladly try to use their taste and energies for th'^m, ini.tead of the mere delectation, or even spiritual hindrance, of a fashionable congregation. It would be so easy ; just a little bouquet of evergreens, for each poor bedside ; just a little festoon- ery, for the bare walls ; just a Christmas motto or two ; they cannot tell, till they have seen for themselves, what ... amount of pleasure they would give to those who have so little to cheer them ! Will not some of our y5ung friends do this little service for the Master's sake this next Christmas, eac'.i in his or her own locality ? For London, they might communicate with the lion. Secretary of the Flower Mission, 3, Clyde Street, S.W., or with the Secretary of the Mildmay Flower Mission, Deaconess House, Mildmay Park, N. ; or the work might be done in the country workhouses and infirmaries, for, as a rule, far less is done to brighten them than the larger ones. Where there is a will there is a way, and, as an old poet says, *'Iove will find out the way." May the love of Christ constrain many, even in this, not to please themselves, but Him who came to seek and to save that which was lost. F. R. H. (1875) APPENDIX. 321 ■''r than "CHRISTIAN PROGRESS" SCRIPTURE READ- ING AND PRAYER UNION. UNITED BIBLE READING. *' Well, Miss, as long as I was reading regular, I thought I might as well read what the others were reading," said a young man-servant, as his reason for joining the "Christian Progress Union." *' As well !" Yes, and much better. To begin with, we ought, every one of us, to be "reading regular." There is no doubt about that. How is any soul to "grow " on one meal a daj/', or on uncertain and occasional draughts of the "sincere milk of the word"? Regularly, not only as to constancy, but as to system. How much time is wasted in indecision, and wondering what to read next ! How many are familiar only with their favourite parts of God's word, neglecting others almost entirely ; thus overlooking many t royal commandment, and losing much of the royal bounty, and gaining no wide and balanced views, of the great field of His truth ! How can we be " throughly furnished unto all good works," if we do not use God's means thereto, " alt Scripture " ? And if we are, as every Christian ought to be, reading both parts of His word regularly 'very day, 'vhy not "read what others are reading"? Why should you rea ! Galatians while others are reading Ephesians ; Ephesians while th ;y are in Philippians? Why not "keep rank" with all one's Chr stian fri£nds, and thousands of fellow members, praying for t'le savie light, the same teaching, day by day, for them and for ourselves ? Why not lie down together in the green pastures, instead of scattering all about ? There are several arrangements for united reading, and member- ship of any will be more or less profitable. But some features of the '■'■ Christian Progress Scripture Keading and Prayer C/tiion'^ seem to me to render it not only profitable, in a special degree, for ourselves, but peculiarly valuable, as an adjunct to our work among others. Our members read one chapter every day in the Old Testament, going straight through ; and a short evening rer ig in the New Testament, in consecutive portions, averaging about fifteen verses. \m I< \l f Ir' ■». 1 s M 1,51 i S' i 'u t i: II?'' M J ;' l. ' :^l^ i 1 ; 1 I : ■ * ■^H -♦ ■ tii^ 3aj MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. Personally, I bel'ove each will find it a real help, and not a fetter or limit, to have the-^e assijjned portions. There is, or should be, plenty of time for any further Bible study, which may attract us. But this is a reminder to the young or uneslablishe I Christian. It is a guard against desultoriness. It is a counteractive to one-sided- ness, and a gentle guide into "the whole counsel of God." It forms a pleasant bond alike for the near and the distant. It is a connecting link for scattered families and severed friends. It is also an immense help to profitable intercourse. The mere fact of knowing that those around have certainly been reading the same chapters opens the way for que?*.ions or remarks, or mention of striking verses, which might not otherwise have been ventured on, and th'.ts raises the tone of our household conversation. How few of us realize that we have to give account for our empty table-talk ! Constantly, too, it will give easier opportunity for improvement of even a passing greeting, or enrichment of a quickly written note with a living gem of truth. I would plead for the servants to be "partakers of the benefit." With a little kindly explanation, they are almost invariably pleased to join, and the practical benefit is perhaps even greater in the servants' hall than in the drawing-room. Children, too, if old enough to read for themselves, are important accessions. "It is so nice for our little boy and girl to join with us," said a Christian mother; "it may be the means of making them steady Bible-readers for life ! " I am convinced that it would be a great blessing in schools. Many have already joined. In one young ladies' school about sixty of the pupils are members. Most especially would I commend it to Christian workers. Those who have a settled charge will find that no amount of general exhortations, to read the Bible, will be so effectual as " Come, join with me ! " This is immediate nnd definite, and will bring persons to a point. One lady, after joining herself, obtained some fifty members in about a week, from her two Bible-classes. Just try it ! Join yourself, first ; and then see if it is not a new power and bless- ing among those for whose souls you are labouring. Do not train them into bad ways by getting them to read only once a day. If you do that, you encourage the comfortable idea that they have done their duty very sufficiently by a chapter at nighi, while the whole APPENDIX, 323 day has been Scriptureless. Aim higher at once, and you will strike higher. There is no power in half measures. It is one of the great benefits of this Union, that it is lifting such nunil)crs out of their easy-going, once-a-day, reading, into a more excellent way. I believe it will be found to be a most valuable parochial agent, and that members of any congregation will be strength- ening the hands of their ministers, by bringing it before them in this light. Very much might be said on this aspect of the Union, which it would be stepping out of my province to enlarge upon. Perhaps no item of parocliial machinery would be so fraught with real spiritual blessing as this noiselessly powerful one, wherever heartily and thoroui^hiy introduced. For those who have temporary opportunities of special work with souls, this Union is simply invaluable. It is just what we want to consolidate our work. It is our best legacy when leaving those to whom we have been privileged to be God's messengers of blessing. It is putting them on the rails ; putting them in the way of further blessing; making the surest provision for their nourishment ; giving them something which will be definite and perpetual help in the new path. It will be a delightful link, and a reminder to mutual prayer. It will help them to help each other, and give them .something to do in trying to get others to join. Work for our young converts is often a dilliculty, but this will give immediate opportunity lioth for con- fession of Christ and direct usefulness, and often lead to more. Now, who will join us ? You may do so by sending your full name and address (stating whether Rev. , Mr., Esq., Mrs., or Miss, and inclosing a penny stamp) to the Rev. Ernest Boys, liengeo, Hert- ford. You will receive in return a card of membership, a copy of the Christian Progress Magazine, and other papers containing full informition respecting it. If you are not ijitife sure whctln^r you would like it, send for the paper? only, and try it for a month. There need be no hesitation about joining, on the idea of its being a sort of irrevocable romise. You can cease to be a member any day, by returning jour card of membership. If you forget a reading, you have not broken a vow, but missel a privilege. Those who cannot read for themselves can have the portions read to them ; one of our heartiest members is "no scholar," but his little daughter reads to him. ' ( m 3*4 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. If you shrink a little from laying aside some favourite plan, or want of plan, of your own, will you not remember that " none of us liveth to himself"? If you join for the sake of being in a better position to lead and lift others into the benefits of regular reading, you surely will not feel it any sacrifice ! Rather you will find, as many of us thankfully acknowledge, that it is a decided personal benefit to ourselves. •* Christian Progress" the Organ of the Union, is well described as a "Magazine of help and encouragement in Christian life, testimony, and work." "Its aim," says the Editor, "is to en- courage believers in the Lord Jesus Christ in their daily walk amidst the realities of life." Members can send questions relating to practical Christian life and work, or to the interpretation of I loly Scriptures ; also special requests for prayer, which are inserted roontlily. The Magazine contains tables of the readings and special notices to members. In conclusion, let me say to every one of my friends, known and unknown, ' * Come thou with us, and we will do thee good ! " F. R. H. ADDRESS TO YOUNG WOMEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION, AT PLYMOUTH, September 1878. "ALL THINGS." Every year, I might almost say every day that I live, T seem to see more clearly how all the rest and gladness and power of our Christian life hinges on one thing ; and that is, — taking God at His word, believing that He really means exactly what He says, and accepting the very words in which He reveals His goodness and grace, without substituting others or altering the precise moods and tenses which He has seen fit to use. Now scarcely any word is so often altered by His dear children, (let alone outsiders,) as the word "all." Satan can't bear it. He always meets it with a "Yea, hath God said a//.'"' It is surprising what a number of substi- APPENDIX. 32s tutionary words he has ready to suggest — "some," "a few," "certain things," and perhaps his favourite is " all — except." Now to whom shall we listen to-day, as we think over a few of the passages where God says "All things"? Will you listen to His word, or will you accept the devil's " all — except " ? This is what I want this afternoon, — that we should every one of us simply take God's words about "all things," and my prayer is that the Holy Spirit may apply at least some one of the passages to every heart, and let it ring on a powerful chime of encouragement or comfort as may be needed, through many days to come. I don't think it very mucii matters what I say about the texts, they themselves are the message. In seekinj.,' out what God has said about "all things," the texts found seem to group themselves into four sets. I. All things are of God. II. All things are by Jesus Christ. III. All things are for your sakes. IV. All things are yours. I. " All things are of Goif" (2 Cor, v. 18.) Here we seem to have a grand foundation laid in the past, and a most beautiful and perfect daily building upon it in the present. 1. Look back for a moment at the foundation, it is very strength- ening to do so. Recollect how the great plan of our salvation, yours and mine, was " of God." The great promise of eternal life was "of God," given by Him before the world began, when we were not there to receive it, and therefore given to Jesus to hold for us. Search out, (from memory, or with concordance,) what God did for us before the foundation of the world, how He chose us in Christ, wrote our names in the Lamb's book of life, provided our redemption, and prepared the kingdom for us— think of all this being "of God," and seal it with the words " I know that what- soever God doi. th, it shall be for ever : nothing can be put to it, nor anything taken fiDm it" (Eccles. iii. 14). What He hath done cannot be reversed, what is of Him cannot come to naught. Now just let us take the strong consolation of this. For this is the foundation of Christ's promise, " My sheep shall never perish," — lor " salvation is of the Lord " (Jonah ii. 9). 2. But many of us have learnt the blessedness of seeing that all m sis-' ^i ^ 1; 326 Af/:MORiALS OF /". A'. //. l^\ this is "of God," who do not quite take the comfort of tlie daily biiil'liuj,' upon it. Now here coinos In the splendid fact of the literality of "all things," with no added ''except." For see Rom. xi. 36, ]u\\\\ xvii. 7, I Cliron. xxix. 14 Ju-,! look at it ! "ositively "all thin^is!" All that surrounds our lives and position, ail that affects our work, our health, all that moulds our characters. aH that is, and all that comes to His children, is "of God" and cometh "of God" to us. Of course the objection arises,— But what of things which really don't seem to be "of God" at all? Some one has beautifully said that thou.;h a wn^ng or injurious word or action may not be God's will for the person who says or does it, by the time it reaches me it is God's will for ntc, and is "of God" to me. Take as instances i Kinc,'s xii. ; it seemed a sad and distressing tJiing that Rehoboain should so act as to diviile the kingdom, but (jod s.ays "this thing is from Me." He had His own purpo;,es to lulfd by it. Then (Jen. xlv. 8, and 1 20. Don't you think it would have been terribly hard for you, if you had been Joseph's sister, to be- lieve beforehand that his being sold was "of Gotl " ? Vet, when God has once for all told us that "all things are of Him," why should we not believe at once, instead of feeling all the misery of first doubting and then being ever so sorry that we did doubt, when after a while we see that it was of God I Now to be practical : just use this thought. The very next time something turns up which seems all wrong and disappointing, say " all things are of God," therefore this thing is "of G- 1." Of Whom*? God, the Father, — of whom are all things (i Cor. viii. 6). Some of us know the force of that word by possession, and some by loss. The Father that pitieth, knoweth, careth for you, loveth you — the God whom Jesus called "My Father and your Father!" He knows the sorrows, the way that you take, the works (for He hath prepared them for us, and has wrought them in us) ; He knows all (hiiii^s, and all these things are " of Him." Now if there were no more, is it not enough that "all things are 0/ God!'' II. But how are all things of God? We can't grasp a mere passive being, we crave a personal agent. Here it is. '• One Lord Jesus Christ, by xohom are all things " (l Cor. viii 6, Heb. ii. 10). The Father has appointed and exalted Him to this. Did V', . APPEXDIX. 327 you ever think of tlie immense comfort it is to know that (lod has given llini tol>L'(l) Head over ;ill tliinj^s to His church, tluit it is to you and me, — the things that we can't manaj^e, can't l)rinL,' alv>ut, can't control, — the persons or circumstances, which seem altoj^etlier beyond our reach to bend, Jesus is over them all, i^ivcn to us to be not only w//- Heatl, but Head over all things ! W'liat rest it is to know this ! Then all things are put under His (2) feet. No matter that we see not yet "Thou hast put," the two can't be separated : Satan is under Hi-, feet with a bruised head ; the world is under His feet (wonilerful footstool that I) ; and we, if in Christ, joined to Him, must have all these things under our feet too. Then (lod has givenall things into His (3) //^7//en promise, we don't find it fulfdled ? Of course not ! Here we have come to a most practical and. closely tt)uch- ing test of taking God at His word. I put it to you, dear friends, solemnly. God says Jesus is able to subdue all things unto Himself. At this moment the devil is whispering at the hearts of some of you, — "Yes, hath God said all things? it only means able to subdue all things exce/>t." And some of you arc adding to the word, and saying, — Yes, except my will, or except my wandering thoughts, or except my sinful nature, or excepi my forgetfulness, or something ! Face it ! Which is it to be? God says "all things." Satan says " «// things except.''* Believing God's bare word, no matter how unlikely it seems, you ll ■i vx H ,■ II H ^ K 328 MEsMORIALS OF F. R. IF. shall fiml strcncjth, freedom, ye=. such a l)les«;inl always abiding Guest? Has He the preeminence always ? Has He now, at this very moment ? Is Jesus, our own dear Lord, really preeminent? I )id you come to meet Him? Are you locking (or ZTw message only? That in all things lie ! IlimulfX Who else is worthy ? It is His right. Once touch on His name, anil one has no words. One wants so very much that He should have it. He whom we do love. He who so loves us. Well, has lie ? Some, thing or some one must have it, must come first. If He doe-iii '. come first, something else does, and that won't do 1 No matter how dear a cause may be, that must not have it. There is wrong done to our Master if any cause, any denominational interest, any personal feeling, any prejudice, has for e;ven one single five miiuites the preeminence in our consideration or motive. Go deeper still, what if self has the preeminence ! C)ie '•Jniost writhes willi shame that it slujuld ever be so ; yet proba')lv many hearts go with inihe in bitter self accusation that it has been so. Just to think that whenever either self or anything else comes fir.st, Je.^us does ;/^V, and we are at that moment in actual, even if unconscious or rather un- recognised, rebellion against God's great puroose that His dear .'•on should have the preeminence ! Why, it is actually the sin ot the fallen angels ! And perhaps we have never seen it to be sin at all ! Now let us bring it to the fountain oj)ene(l, and now let us entreat Him so entirely to i< i;jn over us and in us, that heiice forth in all things He may really have the preeminence ! in. "All things are for "jiJMf sakes" (2 Cor. iv. 15). Connect this with Prov. xvi. 4, " tii* lx>rd hath made all things for Himself," and we get a wonderful view of the love of God and unity of interest with Him. Another parallel \mx is Rom. viii. 28 with Kph. i. 11. No wonder that all things work together for good when He worketh all things after the counsel of His will ! For the will is the very Ui li ill M H 1 Hi |a J Hi •' " *■'• '^ K ■ ( f »i^ m-'. .... 11 ii '1 '• 330 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. centre point of conscious being ; and as the nature is, so is the will. Now if God's nature is revealed to be Love, His will must be all love too. So when we ai tolil that He worketh all ihinL^s after the counsel of His will, that is the same as sayinj^ He worketh ac- cording to His love, — " the great love wherewith He loveth us." Can love work willingly anything but good to its object ? So, too, if He has made all things fur Himself, love is the link which leads to the more wonderful declaration, *' all things are for your sakes." Look out on creation, — stars by night, all that liglit reveals by day, — not only that your Father made them all, but all for your sakes. Look at wonders of natural history, and science, some of us have keen enjoyment in these. Recollect not only that they are the wonderful works and laws and embodied thoughts of your Father, but all for your sakes. Look at the strange entangled mazes (as they seem to us, being the wrong sitle of the tapestry,) of His government of the world, His ways wiih man in history, His singular present cverrulings and developings of things, — all for your sakes. Look nearer at the surroundings of our own lives, things great and small affecting us, all for your sakes. Again, are you prepared actually to believe this ? Perhaps you can accept the great facts that God made the world and governs the w^orld all for His children's sakes, and yet do not practically believe that the things quite close to you every day, this day, are all for your sakes. You don't like some of these things, yet they are for your iakes. They are so arranged as to turn out for the very best for you. We talk of killing two birds with one stone, and think it clever to manage it. Think of the incomprehen- sible wisdom which fits all things into your single life so that all shall work together for good, and then that these *' all things" are also and at the same time fitted all round into the lives of all His children with which they come in contact. " Ordered in all things." Do you think you could improve upon this ordering? Would you like to have a try at it, ju^.t for yourself only, and just for one day ? Ah, would you dare it ? What a terrible mess we should make if He left us to it, or if He entrusted us to order a little bit of the lives of those dear ones about whom we are so trustless ! Well then, if you would not dare to take the reins, why not leave them where they are, in His own hand ? Is it not senseless, when one comes to think of it, let alone wrong, to fidget and worry about APPENDIX. 11^ any one thin^ at all, when lie says His covenant is ordered in all things and sure, and that all things are for your sakes ? We do specially want to remember here that all things means all things, because when the things present are sorrowful, and faith-testing, and painful, and perplexing, we begin again with that dreadful word "except." Are some of us face to face with some of these things now ? What shall we then say to these things? What have others said? Take three instances. Gen. xlii. 36: Jacob said, "All these things are against me." /Kvr they ? Mow tremendously he was mistaken I But he had not the clear promises we have. Ileze- kiah (Isa. xxxviir. 16) got a great deal fiirther. He said : " By these thiuL^s men live, and in all these things is the life of my spirit." ■ These things " meant for him going down to the gates of the grave, and being well-nij;h cut off with pining sickness. Vet that whicii was almost death to the body was life to the spirit. Have not some of us found il so ? I have, and many others. I won't ask others to take our word about it, but I do ask them to take this inspired word about it, and to trust and not be afraid if such things come '^ you. It is worth suffering to prove it. But St. Paul got farther still (Rom. viii. 37): " In all lliese tilings we are more than conquerors," etc. W'/'iat things? We can't write out quite such a serious list as he did of things which secm to be against hi He not only makes all things work together for good, but does more: " performeth a'l things fo*- me." And if we did but open our eyes and notice, we siionkl see Ilim at work for us. Every day is fall (J miracles when the Holy S[>irit really opens our eyes to see God working the! . and I often think it is the very little things which most magnify His lovingkindness. We talk abn.it the tele- scope of faith, but I lliink we want even more the microscoj>e of watchful and grateful love. Apply this to tlie little bits of our daily lives, in the liglil of the Spirit, and how wonderfully they come out ! We se ■ these little thing- in tV.eir true gie.itness, and in the l)eatity of their fitness as parts of Hi- o .n perfect pi-n of our lives, which He is working out for us hour b\ hou . Don't wait fur to-morrow ; take this day, tlie morning hours past, the evening ones to come ; and apply this microscope, aad «ee if yoa dU at thrni a> they cuine away, tired, but happy and thankful ! I don't think the fagged home goers from any ballroom would witness in the same way to real, downright enjoyment of M^/'r work, "pleasure" lliou^h they choose to call it. Or compare the faces that leave the Stock Kx- change, or a political meeting, or any place where they have been simply doing their own work. Yes, there are plenty of troubles, and delays, and failures, and headaches, and much weariness, too, 1 know all about that ; but nevertheless, when His elect are truly doing Hi? work, sowing His seed, and reaping His precious sheaves, they enjoy that work, as He says they shalL And they shall loii;^ enjoy it, too; other enjoyments pass away in passing, but this only passes on to eternal fruition of enjoyment. No wonder if work that abides shall be /c;/4'- enjoyed. When the Lord says to us, "Prepare thy work," we have the comfort of recollecting that He has prepared our works for us (Eph. ii. lo, marg.). Why not take the comfort of this as to any untried work which we may be " called unto " ? That sphere did not make itself, neither did man form it into just what it is at his own will ; it was God who prepared it for the worker whom He intended for it ; and if there is sufficient evidence that you are called to it, then you may rest assured that He " preparei.1 " it and "ordained " it for you. Do not let us dwell only on our side of the preparation ; but let us recollect that He who prepares the workers prepares the works too, and prepares them for us to walk in, i.e., just to go on step by step ; for that i? "walking." Then, for our own side, let us recollect, " Thou also hast wrought all our works in us " ; or, as the very striking margin has it, " for us." So we see that He has wrought in us, and for us, every bit of. work we have ever succeeded in doing as yet ; therefore to Him be all the glory ! And, no less evidently, it will be He Himseli' who will work in us and for us every single bit that we shall yet do , therefore in Him be all our trust ! And yet (oh, wonderful condescension !), though it is all His own doing from beginning to end, "your work shall be rewarded." "Every ''I 1^ }'! I : ! n ' 'J !(.,;: i- i;.- j I'- 338 MEMO AVALS OF F. R, H. man " (just think ; every one of us pi,jr workers !) " shall receive his own reward," not a {general preniiuni all round. And this, too, by the hand of our Mediator. Knowinjj that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance, for ye serve the " Lord Christ." May \vc, for, and in, and all thiou^di, the cuining year, he so many individual illustrations of St, Paul's sevenfold desire for his converts as to "every good work." May we — 1. Be '* prepanui \\n\.o every good work." 2. "Be rt'ady to every good work." 3. Be ^'' throHi^hly ftiruisked \xa\.Q all good works," 4. ^^ Abound \\\ every good work." 5. " Being fnn'fiil m every good work." 6. Be stablished '* in every gc >d word and work." 7. Be made *^ perfect in every good work." F. R. H. MOTTOES FOR OPEN AIR MISSION WORKERS. The Open-Air Mission Afagazine introduces the verses written by my dear sister with the following words. MEMBERS' MOTTOES. For the past si\ years the members of the Mission have had fellowship with each other by a printed motto, selected by the Com- mittee. Miss Frances Ridley Havergal has woven these texts into verse. In sending them, with 6000 of her leaflets, for distribution^ by the Mission, she says : " 1 do think yours is such hrar'c work for Jesus. May I pass on to you a text I never noticed till this morn- ing ? • My glory was fresh in me, and my bow was renewed in my hand ' (Job xxix. 20), taken with ' Christ in you, the hope of glory ' (Col. i. 27), and 'His bow abode in strength' (Gen. xlix. 24). May your glory thus be fresh in you, and your bow renewed in your APPENDIX. I f 339 1875. 1876. hand." This riHecl Christian sister went to her rest with God oa June 3rd, icS;.}, aged 42. 1874. "OcctrPY Tir.L I CoMi." /«i^xix. 13. "Occupy till I return!" L«-t us, Lord, this le>M)n learn; May our evtiy moment be FailhluIIy fdled up fur I'hec. ••Hk. not Far from Mf.." Psafm xxii. n. "Be not far from me," we pray; "I am with thee all the day;" This Thy answer, strong and clear. Master, Thou art always near. " He is Faithful that Promised." Heb. x. 23. Thou art faithful ! praise Thy name, Thou art evermore the -anie ; Thou hast promiseC book is to Mdton. Why should such a mysteriously subtle and unaccountable gratification have been provided for us ? Verily lie is Love ! The magnificent massive choruses in the " Israel in F-gypf need a gigantic orchestra to give scope for their great swing of grandeur. The mighty flinging of sound from side to side, in some of the doul)le choruses, is what might be carried out if Ilandci had Salis- bury Plain for his concert room, cannon for his basses, an army for his tenors, and angelic legions for his sopranos. m 342 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. As to the '"infinite siiggestiveness " of music, the " Israel in Ej,'yi)t " choruses exemplify this to a mr-rvcUous degree ; so does "Let their celestial concerts" with its blaze of light; so does Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony. A hush comes over one at the very thought of one so loved being on the very threshold of eternal rest and joy, so near Christ's own immediate presence. It is as if the veil were growing half trans- parent, which hangs between life and its dreams, eternal life and its realities. The shadow of orphanhood has now fallen upon you ; and there- fore His blessed name of Father acquires depth and reality; "doubt- less Thou art our Fathv.r. " Some day. when we are where they reckon not by days and years. He will tell you "duJiy He has tried you, and let you look back on your life story and see the golden thread of His fatherly love and care shining over and around it all, — not as it is now, winding in and out, and only seen by glimpses. "Faithful and True." What a keystone to the grand bridge which His promises have made for us, over the abyss of despair and misery ! Faithful as regards us ; Tru».\ essentially and inherently. Experience of lii'e is a great commentary on the Bible, and a sort of realization of it. At first, the Bible is a detailed map, which we study and admire ; but on the road we find the very same things i.oticed, but not realized, in one's map. Many of the hills and valleys I read of (and only xfoA of), in the Psalms, seem to have come across my own journey of late. It h.is been so to-day with Isaiah xxvi. 3, which is rather like sitting under the shadow of a great rock, which was marked in one's 1 lap, but was rot in sight a few days ago. " I have given ^hem Thy word " : John xvii. To me this has been a golden key to many other texts, or a sort of seal upon thert ; the Father's word and the Saviour's gitt. Apply this first to ike " word of reconciliation," the Father's message of salvation through Christ. Then to the whole Bible ; it makes it ton times dearer, and it seems our claim to appropriate every srveet promise. APPENDIX. 343 A " LINE LEFT OUT." Since compiling the Memorials of my dear sister, I ha''e discovered this little note among our dear father's papers. It is a "line left out," showing the generosity of my sister's character, her delight in giving away most unselfishly, long before the true impulse of "full and glad surrender " balanced all her gifts. Frances had jusi received her first checjue from Messrs. Strahan for contributions to Good Words, and she writes to her mother in 1863 : The cheque is so much larger than I expected, £\o lys. 6d, Now will you please give ;^l<> of this to my precious papa for any- tiling he would like to employ it on ; either kce]) it for church alterations, or if any more immediate and pressing object, I would rather he used it for that ; I should be so delighted to be able for once to further any little object which he may desire. I sh(nild be glad if you would send ioj-. to J. II. E. for the Scripture Readers' collection, and the "Js. dd. to keep for any similar emergency. "f: m We add the following, found among Frances' impers. Mv dear little Fan can hardly think how much her poor papa loves her, thinks al)out her, and prays for her. Ves, he does. Thank you, dear child, for remembering me ; I will keep all your love, but not the cheque. Our God send yoii His sweetest and choicest blessings. W. H. H. .1* \ \SA% W r ■h, > i; i I Hi. t iiffii 344 MEMORIALS OF F. R. IT. LETTERS, ETC. {To M. V. G. HavcrgaL) I'EKRY Villa, January 5, 1880. My dear Friend, — I cannot rcmse your natural desire for a few particulars con- cerning your beloved sister's work in connection with the Hymnal, " Songs of Grace and GU>ry."* In June, 1870, she came to reside with us at Ferry Villa, and to render her vakiable assistance in the joint editing of " Songs of (J race and Ijlory," sometimes composing hymns and sometimes tunes, and taking the warmest interest in the perfecting of that work, which forms the most comprehensive hymnal in the Church of England. It was a real happiness to be working together for Christ, and to have seen and known much of the hidden history of her life, and traced those deep springs from whence welled forth her glorious productions in poetry, prose, and music. It pleased God to bless our friendship, and to make use of the preaching of the full gospel to instruct and refresh her soul. New light dawned in upon her ; until, at length, a full und blessed assurance of her present and everlasting salvation i" Christ Jesus irradiated her whole being. The former intense longings — " Oh that I coulil enjoy that sweet sense of pardon and the hapjiiness you have in Christ," were, at length, most fully realized ! She had passed through deep waters, and the fiery ordeal had purged the dross and purified the gold. Great and lasting changes now took place ; richer and fuller views of Christ, clearer discernment in the deep mysteries of the covenant of grace, doctrinal truths more accurately learned and more firmly grasped. " F'ull assurance of faith" was reached, Christ became daily morj precious, joy mi the Lord abouiided, faith and hope and love grew exceedingly. Your late beloved father, Canon Ilavergal, had previously shown a warm and genial interest in arranging for the supply of tunes to meet the requirements of " Songs of Grace and Glory." Indeed, *■ Referred to on page 103 and elsewhere. APPENDIX. 345 the last of his own beautiful compositions was written expressly for this vohune, only a few clays before his sudden removal. It is a fine tune, and I have since, by permission, named it " Havergal." Visitinjj hi.>, late residence, " I'yrmont Viila," after his death, a curious kind of instinct seemed to impress my mind with the firm persuasion that his youngest daughter could supply his place, and carry on the work as musical editijr. After events fully verified all this, and showed the father's mantle had fallen with double ble>-.ing upon his child. It was at this period she came over to reside with us, amf from time to time, as required, she was guided and enabled to write her most beautiful tunes and hymns. She would frecpiently remark : " It is only as, and wlun, God sees fit to give me a hymn, that I can ever write one." In and through all, the Divine Spirit was sought, and most gratefully acknowledged, in answer to pra\er. We were now engaged upon one of the largest hymnals in the Church of Englaml ; restoring the hymns to their originals ; dis- covering authors' names and dates ; selecting texts and Umes ; and arranging more than a thousand hynms under their proper themes and subjects. Some of this material I had been collecting during thirty years, desiring to represent every doctrine of Holy Scripture, every varying phase of the Christian life, and all the sacred seasons of the year. In assisting me to carry out, through the press, this great work, we had many difficulties, but also many answers to prayer. On more occasions than one, when the proof sheets were waiting, and the next hymn, u[)on some important and difficult subject, had scarcely reached the high standard desired, we paused for prayer, and, spreading the matter before the Lord, asked for His Divine Spirit to guide her pen ; and, ere a brief hour or so had passed away, the much needed guidance was vouchsafed, and a beautitul hymn produced, in well balanced rhyme and rhythm, ami sweetly flowing verse. The history connected with many of our hymns would form an instructive volume, indicating the tidal wave in the Christian church, and depicting the ebb and flow of ripening experience and doctrme. So, with your sister, her exquisite compositions have their special histoiy, while at the same time they mark the wondrous growth in faith and love and Scripture doctrine. Rv 11 !' 1 346 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. %> mv vMm} After many years' experience in the study of hymnology, I do not he-iitate to affirm that the hymnal compositions of Frances Ridley IlavL-rgal must ever rank amoni; the finest in the ICnylish language, and pt)rtray the fullest ami ripest fruits of the Christian character. Further, upon the most difficult of all themes, " The Attrilniles of Deity," those written by her upon "The Infinity of God," and upon " The Eternity of God," have scKloiu been surpassed, if ever equalled. Her liirthdayand New Year hymns ; her Consecration hymns; the popular Missionary hymn ; the Second Advent hymn ; the Sacra- mental hymns; the hymn of praise, " Worthy of all Adoration"; and such hymns as '* O Saviour, precious Saviour," and "Our Saviour, our King," "Is it for me, dear Si 'our?" and "From glory unto glory," and others of this same ch acter, have laid the whfjle church of Christ under great obligati i, by this volume. And we have been much cheered with many testimonies, from all parts, of the Divine blessing upon our work. " She being dead yet speaketh," and we thank God the last nine years of her eventful life manifested such ripening in knowledge and in grace, in extended usefulness, in entire consecration, in holy, happy, and honoured service for her Saviour and her King. .So '^n, in all my ministerial experience of thirty years, I have never nessed such growth and such marvellous progress, still less such talents, laid so hum1)ly at the Master's feet, and so entirely consecrated to His glory ! I have just been looking over a number of interesting documents, comprising letters and manuscript originals of her beautiful tunes, as well as hymns, written about this time, all of which bear the same impress as that stated above. Doubtless the joint eiliting of so many beautiful hymns and tunes exerted their happy influence, and brought a reflex l)lessing upon her own soul. The hymns themselves, expressive of the brightest hopes of the church of Christ, would naturally lift the mind from the regions of uncertainty and doubt to the higher atmosphere of communion and fellowship with God. 1 remain, ny dear Friend, yours faithfully in Christ Jesus, CHARl.FS B. SNEPP. APPENDIX. 347 {From her friend Elizabeth Ci,ay.) Among the most distinct recollections of my childhood is my first sight of dear F. R. li. On my return to school at Belmont, alter the summer holiday . ir 1850, I was taken into the larye roonii where all the teachers and pujiils had just assembled for tea. Seated amongst a group of I'.ttle ones, at the bottom of a long table, wai a new pupil, with long golden curls flilling around her head. F^er appearance at once attracted me, for I remember that as I joined the party my thought was, "I should like her for my friend." Little did I imagine that before the close of that half-year a friendship would have commenced between us which resulted in the closest intimacy, uninterrupted until her entrance into glory twenty-eigiit and a half years afterwards. It was from tlie beginning based on an e' lest desire to know and to follow the Saviour. During the first holidays we visited one another's homes, ane things.' It was just the hurried movement and word, with which one might recall to a friend the forgotten presence of a Third, yet done with solemnity as " touching the King." ■ '-';'' V' '•■'' ' '■■■ '/ '"""' In reference to the above, 1 should tell you that she heggcdio call \c\Q. by my initials, which she said had been so long dear to her. fene persuaded me at once to call her by her own sweet Christian name, and was so glad that I preferred Frances to Fanny- Observing the little pillar post which stands in our hall, and on which the hour of despatch is printed, with '* No delivery or de- spatch on Suiulay," she said in her bright way, " Capital ! that's as it should be." To our coachman's wife, touching her baby's cheek with a gentle hand, she said softly, " Is it not nice to think that He took up young ciiilJren in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them?" He was in all her thoughts. Her words when we parted lingered in my heart : **0h, is it not sweet of the Ma.ster to give us such days as these? It is not merely 'all our need,' but d-licious extra things too, such treats as this has been. He planned it all for us." ^'1 APPENDIX. 35« To us both, this had seemed the beginning of a long friendship. We spoke of future visits in the years to come, and of publishing songs together, and of other plans. Ilut her time was at hand. Our brief frieiulsliip held only that one parting, which was to lead to no earthly meeting. One birthday (her's), one exchange of Christmas greetings, a few of her bright loving letters, and she was gone, — gone to the land that is gathering to itself, day by day, our best and loveliest. Two days after hev birthday she wrote: " How kind of you, darlir g frieutl, to recollect my day, and send me such a charming book.* I do like it so much. I want a long chat with you mo->t sorely, but can't make time just now without confirming a growling headache. I have just been relieving my mind by writing i little poem * The Key I'\)und.'t 1 have been wishing for a long time to have a very direct shot at this dreary, misty, semi-unbelief, that some people pride themselves on. Oh, if they would but ' come and see ' our Lord Jesus ; I V'our ever Uivin": Frances." Her last letter, written so shortly before her death, is also before me now. " Dearest H. M. Thanks many for your dear note. . . I have no respite, I must tnake a little lull in life. \Vhil-.t most thankful for success, I am almost alarmedly womlciing w hereunto this work will grow. Vet oh, how one wants Ilimtomake the Very most of all we have and are. Remember me warmly to Mr. M . I am going to send you 'Kept' as soon as puljlished. Your loving friend, F. R. H." Before I had time to reply to this letter, she was gone to Him w horn her soul so fervently loved. I was struck by an e.\i)rcssion ynu used in your first note to me, that "surely she must enjoy heaven more than most." I know exactly what you mean, and I fuul it singularly easy to realize her there, to picture her bright spirit at home in the Father's house, and to imagine the sacred ecstasy with whijh she serves llimday and night in the temple. Is it not sweet also, and comforting, to ihiidv of her tender greeting by * "The Romance of Astronomy." By Professor Kalley Miiicr, M.A., F.R.A.S. Macmillan and Co. t See " Under His Shadow," page i86. I ' *! /, i I !i ; Ell 352 MEMORIALS OF F. R. II. and by ; of the joyful grace with which she will welcome her dear ones to share the Messed rest ? Anil it is an inspiring thought that even such as she, gifted with noble imaginations, and feryent hearts, and unutterable longing after God, have found the place prepared for them, and, above all, the open vision of the King Himself transcends without measure their most glorious li^pe. With true sympathy in your grief and in your gratitude, Believe me, Dear Madam, Affectionately yours, B. M. "NEARER NOW THAN WE THINK." " I have no respite, I must make a little lull in life." {Last letter, received May i6th, 1879.) She stood in the glorious shadow Of the Father's house of love. But she saw not the shining threshold Where the Angel-Watchmen move; She heard not their garments faintly stir As they opened the golden gates for her. She had toiled in the blessed Vineyard, * And as she toiled she sang, Till far through the sunny distance That sweetest music rang ; And her fellow-workers, far and near, Gave thanks to God for her words of cheer. '1 < ) i We heard her sing in the dawning, When the mists hung low and cliill ; In the heavy heat of the noontide Her clear voice cheered us still ; And when evening shadows were closing round. We folded our hands to that tender sound. m'.^ f APPEiS^DIX. 353 by one " And those who were watching at niUIni;4ht, Watc'iing in pain or fear,— Heard oft in tliat sorrowful stiUness One sweet voice ringing clear, For God her Maker, her (J„,l an,age, That pleading in Christ's dear name; It followed the sorrowful path they trod, Till the wandering spirits were turned to God. And she sang to the little children, Of the children's God and King ; When heart and voice were weary She sang, unfaltering; And her tervent spirit leapt to see The little ^nes gather, sweet Lord, to Thee. But at length she longed for a "respite," To gather in silence, alone, New strength for her mighty harvest. For the great work yet to be done ; She prayed for a "lull" in the labour of life, A breathing space in the glorious strife,— For only a little shadow From the red sun's fiery glow, One hour's brief rest by the fountains Where the waters of comfort flow Where the flowers are blowing, so pale and sweet, In the tender gloom by the Master's feet. A A Fi- ll ('( " ( \\ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) I k :/. !.0 I.I la£l2.8 2.0 •It IK lit L25 i 1.4 i i I 1.8 11111= — A" ll^ Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. M5S0 (716)«72-4S03 •^ \ \ :\ 6^ I ! 354 MEMORIALS OF F. R. U. Yet, — could she have rested ever Where the cool soft shadows lie, Whilst weary and faint in the noontide One soul went wandering by ? - Nay ; one sad step on the dreary road Would have troubled her heart as it leant on God: So willing to toil and travel, To suffer and watch for all, So near in heart to the Master, So eager to follow His call, — She spent her soul in the service sweet, And only in Death could rest at His feet So this is the needed respite, Her shadow from noonday sun Falls dark, fronn the wing of the Angel, Who cornes when our work is done, To bring no "lull" in the hurry of life, But the Conqueror's Rest after toil and strife. And now, in the King's own Palace, She sings to her harp of gold, With the seal of God on her forehead. In her spirit His peace untold, Where never a sorrowful step ncr cry Shall break on the lull of Eternity. B. M. {^Lines by the late Miss Julia Kirchhoffer, and explanatory Letter ^ to F, R. H, Seepage 197.) Ask her to come and sing to me. For day by day I long, With a craving never known before, For the magic of a song — 'Twere like a sweet, stray wanderer From heaven's choral throng. ^ APPENDIX. 355 *' You hardly ever spoke to her. So little know of her ! " But read her verses once: *' Sing to them sweet and low, And the pain-dimmed eye will brighten. As the soothinij verses flow." You see she feels the gift of song A holy, high bequest, Then how could she refuse to grant A poor sick child's request ! Methinks 'twould soothe this constant pain, And lull me into rest. I want "The old, old story," How Jesus set us free ; Or the riven *' Rock of Ages," Or else "Abide with Me"; Or what we used to sing at night, "Nearer, my God, to Thee." Then tell her how I 'm lying here, In weariness and pain, And how I long to feel the charm Of music's voice again ! I know she '11 come and sing for me Some old familiar strain. Ncv.^ 1870. **The time these verses refer to was before my confirmation. I was very ill, and no one thought I could get through such an exertion. I used to lie all day long, feeling pretty wretched. Then came a passionate longing for music, which no one here could gratify. You were the only person I knew of, but none of us had ever spoken to you. . . . That is the story uf these verses ; perhaps it may encourage you sometimes in the ministry of song. It would be hard to tell all that your book has been for me. . . When in the holidays at home I was in great pain and suffering, my sister used to sit on the bed, and read out your poems to soothe me.— Julia Kirchhoffer." 356 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. 1 1 Letter of Y>yl. Alexander, Bishop of Derry. The Committee of prepajration for the Church Congress at Swansea had invited my dear sister to write a paper on hymnology. At their meeting in October, 1879, touching allusion was made to the beauty of her hymns and her lamented removal from the church below. Dr. Alexander, Bishop of Derry, wrote to me : •* I am to speak briefly at the Swansea Congress upon the use and abuse of hymnology. The exquisitely pathetic hymns of your sister, F. R. H., the subtle and loving music of their versification, I shall esteem it a privilege and a duty to mention to my auditors. The beautiful circumstance of her dying song will afford me the most affecting and most touching of illustrations. I shall certainly quote from her hymns. Whether fifteen minutes will give me time to read a whcle hymn, I very much doubt ; but I wish to quote some of her noble Advent hymn : ' Thou art coming, O my Saviour.'" % '■: Letter from the Secretary of Woman's Foreign Missionary Society. 1334, Chestnut St., Philadelphia, Jtdy 15, 1879. My dear Miss Havergal, — I feel a delicacy in intruding upon the sacredness of your grief at this time ; and yet I cannot forbear sending a few words of sympathy to the sister of F. R. H. In thinking of her here, she was not a far off writer to us, but a woman of the highest type, and a friend whom we had learned to love. Every word she wrote me came as from a dear friend, and I had hoped some day to see her face to face ; I hope so still, but in a far more glorious meeting. We have always appreciated her writing for our little magazine, in the midst of her many cares and of her physical weakness and pain ; I i APPENDIX, 357 and we know that it has done a work for the Master here which lie •will own and bless ; how much good we cannot know until the hereafter. I have part of her " Marching Orders " still to publish, and feel that they are a sacred legacy to the readers of our magazine, and pray that their sweet, forcible, scriptural words may go to the hearts of the thousands they will reach. How many, many words of your dear one will go on and on, in their mission of love, while there are mortals to need their stimulus and comfort ! She is well known and loved by a large circle of friends in America, whom she has helped by her writings and by the knowledge of her devoted life. How blessed is her rest, and how truly do her works follow her ! In reading of her last triumphant moments, one longs for the time for meeting on the other shore, and of leaving for ever this sin-stained, tempest-tossed world. While we rejoice with her over the victory won, the dear ones left must bear the pain, and still press on in the conflict of life. This is such a hard part of life ; but oh, the Master's strength and love are sufficient for even this, and how tenderly does He ever lead us through the deep waters. May He place round about you His everlasting arms in this your time of sorrow ! Yours in true sympathy, and in the love and service of the one Master, (Miss) JULIA C. THOMPSON, Editor " Woman s Work for Woman** [From ** Faith and Works " Magazine.] THE DEATH OF FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. What a flood of sorrow swept over many hearts in America, when the news flashed over the wires that Frances Ridley Havergal was dead ! We had so long loved the sweet outgushings of her poetic nature ; always ringing to the one beloved theme— a Saviour's love. And now the voice is hushed, the lyre unstrung, ere it had lost any of its early force ; taken from her family and from the world iit 358 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. h m the prime of her life, just when she seemed about to gather fresh strength in rest from her labours of love ; known to many in this •western world only by the sweet interchanges of correspondence, and the writings so highly valued, she leaves a void not soon to be filled. And yet who can read the accounts of her last illness, and its triumphant close, without echoing her own words, " So glorious to go home." Her little books, " My King," ** Royal Commandments and Royal Bounty," with "Daily Thoughts on Coming to Christ," are the constant companions of a very large number of Christians here, whilst "Little Pillows" and "Morning Bells" are dear to many a child's heart. Even on the Christmas and birthday cards the ever loved "F. R. H." is always eagerly sought, as sure to be appended to the sweetest sentiments. It has long been the writer's privilege to number Miss Havergal amongst her friends ; during a period of six years, the hope had been growing in both our hearts, that W'i might meet ; but God has ordered it otherwise. To the one for whom many years of loving work seemed in store. He has said, •' Friend, come up higher" ; whilst to the other, nearing the allotted space, it is His pleasure to say, "Tarry awhile." Oh, may all who sorrow, " yet not as others," over this most unexpected stroke, so read the lessons drawn from her beautiful life that her heart's wish ma;' be theirs ; " Take my life, and let it be, Ever, only, all for Thee." JANE M'CREADY. Philadelphia, July 1879. fW ? Lines by the Rev. F. Jeffery. To F. R. H., \FTER READING "UNDER THE SURFACE." How restless seems man's outward life, - Like billows of the sea, \ •> With every jarring wind at strife, ^. From dangers never free ! ^ APPENDIX. 359 Yet, safe beneath its storm-Iashed face, See ocean's treasures lie ; So rests the heart secured by gracfe In deep tranquillity. The summer sun lit up the bay, No breath its bosom curled, When youth and pleasure launched away . Upon their ocean world. Foul slimy monsters lurk within, Below those waters fair; And so the smiling life of sin Hides death and fell despair. December 13, 1875. F, J. REPLIED TO BY F. R. H. ON A POST CARD. Rightly you have read my song! Who in Jesus liveth, 'Neath life's turmoil strange and strong Knows the peace He giveth. Peace that overflows our days, Silently victorious ; Peace that blossoms into praise. Hidden, yet most glorious. December 16, 1875. li \i\ . ! Of course many pages might be filled with reviews and eulogies from English and American sources ; far more grateful to my dear sister was the record, which often greeted her, how God had blessed her word and work. Whilst It IS quite unnecessary here to extract or repeat any of these appreciative notices (quite a hundred might be given from America alone), it may be interesting to 36f» MEMORIALS OF F, R. H. v<, >■ ( f" f ' i some to read the following extncts from letters of the late Rev. Charles Tennyson Turner, of Grasby Vicarage (the poet), 1870. Since I looked critically at " The Ministry of Song," I have been surprised and delighted with the great beauty and power of a good proportion of the poems, and the sweetness of the residue. 1 particidarly like "On the Last Leaf," '* How should they Know Me?" and ' Making Poetry.' I have not often met with such vital truth illustrated by an imagination so subtle and so true as the two last evince. ' Nor is the metre apart from this estimate, being very charming and spirited. ..." Wounded " is very charming, and so is "Faith and Reason." I cannot say these are the very best in the book, for there are equals ; but the " How should they Know Me ? " . and " Making Poetry " are before all others. Extract from anot/ier letter from the safne, 1870. I quite agree with you that "Life Crystals" is very thoughtful and beautiful, but I continue to like those I mentioned best of all. Miss Havergal, Sappho, and Mrs. Browning constitute my present female trio. There may be others lying perducs to me in foreign languages, but I know at present of none equal to these. ,' i '- 1 APPENDIX. 361 1^1 I II THE CHURCH MISSIONARY SOCIETY MEMORIAL FUND. The following letter appeared in llie Record, in July, 1879, suggesting the "Frances Ridley Havergal Church Missionary Memorial Fund." To the Editor of The Record, Sir, — I am but giving expression to the thoughts of others when I venture to suggest an " In Memoriam Thank Offering" from the tens of thousands of readers whose hearts have so often been gladdened and stimulated to labour for the Master by the "sweet singer, and yet strong," who is now "Among the choir of Paradise, A sir^er evermore." Many objects dear to her in life, to which these offerings could "be devoted, might easily be named ; but perhaps the most fitting and appropriate, and one that will assuredly commend itself to all who sympathise with her in her loyal devotion to the "King's Marching Orders," would be a special Church Missionary Memorial Fund. Those who knew her best can best testify to the deep interest ever taken by our beloved friend in the God-commanded work of missions. Early associations led her to identify herself specially with the work of the Church Missionary Society. When only a child, "the golden-haired fairy of the home circle," as the youngest member of the family, it was her Sunday morning delight to carry the missionary plate round to all assembled for prayers, for the willingly offered pence. When six or seven years old she had her first missionary-box, and for years, especially at St. Nicholas', Wor- cester, energetically and systematically she obtained weekly and monthly contributions. It was one of her special treats to hear her father tell of his pioneering deputation visits to the far end of Cornwall and Devonshire, where, as early as 1822-24, lie was the very first to preach and speak for the Church Missionary Society. In 1850 she writes : " Our Church Missionary Association has increased to over 362 MEMORIALS OF F. R. //. !^i !' > n ; r ;^40. For myself, I have nenrly thirty subscribers, half quarterly and half monthly ; and thoujjh the sum in same cases is small, I think that is a pretty tolerable list. But I want to have more internal missionary spirit, it is more natural to me to work than to feel, I do more collecting than praying ! Oh, to be like Him in this as in all other things. I have at last hit upon a new device, and earned somethin;^ by my brains for my pet Church Missionary .Society, Some half- crown pocket books advertised so many copies gratis as prizes for the best poetical enigmas. So I wrote sixteen of all sorts, signed Zoide and Sabrina, and have just received six copies. I reserved one copy, and have sold all the rest for the Society." Her self denying life, pleasing others and so pleasing herself, found her ever " ready to give " to missionary work. And truly she gave that which '* cost her something." In a letter from her sister I read the following : "Just this time last year, in July, she came to me with that light in her eye which always told of some bright thought. * Marie ! It has come over me this morning that I shall send all my jewellery to the Church Missionary Society. I wrote long ago : "Take my silver and my gold; Not a mite would I withhold." And I really have given every shilling I could to God's service, but I never tliought of my jewels.' I pleaded in vain the pleasure of leaving them to others. * No,' she said, ' my King wants them, and they must go ; delightful to have anything to give Him. I can't go to India, but I can help to send some one.' The massive gold chain she had worn for four years, the gift for some literary toil, she took off her neck, substituting a very old one. A friend at once gave her a handsome price for her chain, and she brought the gold to me, rattling the sovereigns merrily in her hands. ' There, this goes at once to the Church Missionary Society, and I shall make it up to ;^5o, which I long wanted to give.' Though we were very busy, she had all her jewellery cleaned and packed, fifty-three articles (even her useful gold pencils), in a beautiful casket, and sent up to London to the care of the Rev. H. Wright." It may be the offering of "jewellery " is not the sacrifice required from many for the King ; but some offering of a grateful heart will, we think, be prompted in the case of thousands who will feel it a APPENDIX. 363 ly and ik that ionary > more 1 other lethini,' le half- izes for signed eserved herself, id truly cm her Illy, she jf some ing that :iety. I rice, but xsure of them, im. I massive literary lend at ght the There, I shall ive were ty-three et, and [required ut will, Ifeelit a high privilege thus far to be associated in spirit with one of the noblest and truest hearted and most loyal of His servants. I refrain from doing more than suggest. I must leave to others the details of any plan that may be adopted ; only I think it would be well from the first to have a definite plan. The translation and circulation of selected [)ortions of her works in the mission field would be a distinct object of great interest to many. Doubtless the Rev H. Wright would be able to give information which would guide action here. Palestine has been named as a special field, but perhaps India or South Africa might awaken more general interest. Some will remember h'.r thrillingly earnest appeal for " Our Hindoo Sisters " : *' Oh ! for a fiery scroll, and a trumpet of thunder might, To startle the silken dreams of English women at ease, Circled with peace and joy, and dwelling where truth and light Are shining fair as the stars, and free as the western breeze 1 Oh ! for a clarion voice to reach and stir their nest With the story of sisters' woes, gathering day by day, ' Over the Indian homes (sepulchres rather than rest). Till they rouse in the strength of the Lord, and roll the stone away. Is it too great a thing? Will not one rise and go, Laying her joys aside, as the Master laid them down? Seeking Ilis lone and lost in the veiled abodes of woe, Winning His Indian gems to shine in His glorious crown !" It will be interesting to mention that one item of Miss Havergal's " List of Work for 1879 " is given thus : ** To complete my set of * Marching Orders ' for the Church Missionary Gleaner." The last paper, in the June number of the Gleaner, contained the following passage. " What an honour to be one of the *few' forerunners of the King, the herald of a silent yet real and mighty advent of * the very God of very God. ' Because the harvest is great and the labourers few, the Lord Jesus said, 'Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that He would send forth labourers into His harvest.' If the fact remains, the command remains. And the fact does indeed ■ k 364 MEMORIALS OF F. R. If. remain, and we have no excuse in not Knowing it. We know how few the labouiers are. We cannot say, ' iieliold I we knew it not.' The need is recognised, and the Lord has put the supply within the reach of the voice of prayer and the hand of faith, lie has told us what to do, and so now the responsibility rests upon us. Perhaps we read these pages, and we sorrow a little for the burden of the King of princes, and wish the accounts were more glowing. But we do not turn the passing emotion into obedient and faithful and purposeful prayer, and so our sluggard soul dcsireth and hath nothing. * He shall not fail nor be discouraged '; but if we fail as His * helpers' in this easiest and most graciously appointed share of His glorious work, how shall we hope to share in our Master's harvest joy, and what claim shall we have to join in the great har- vest Hallelujah?" I am, Sir, yours fai»nfully, Blackheath. CHARLES BULLOCK. The response to the suggestions thus made was im- mediate and most generous. The Rev. Prebendary Wright, the Hon. Secretary of the Church Missionary Society, at once took a deep interest in the proposal, and the Committee of the Society passed the following minute, inserted in the Church Missionary Gleaner for September, 1879. General Committee, July 22. The Secretaries stated that it had been determined by the friends of the late Miss Frances Ridley Havergal to raise a memorial fund to be called "The Frances Ridley Havergal Missionary Fund," with the intention of handing it, when raised, to the Committee of the Society, to be expended in the training of Native Bible women, and in the translation and circulation in India, (and, should the fund allow, other mission fields,) of suitable and selected portions of Miss Haverg??s books. The Committee expressed the pleasure it would give them to administer the Fund if entrusted to them, and their satisfaction that the name of Miss Frances Ridley Havergal, whose devoted interest in the Society's work was so marked in her lifo APPENDIX, 365 time, should be permanently inscribed on the records of the Socictv, and her loving loyal spirit be thus by God's blessing perpetuated in its Missions. The Day of Days for February 1880 contained the following acknowledgment of contributions received towards the Fund. THE FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL "CHURCH MISSIONARY MEMORIAL FUND." We wish it were possible to convey to others the feeling produced in our own mind b)fc the widesprfiad and generous response accorded to the proposed Church Missionary Fund in memory of Frances Ridley Ilavergal. The amount received now exceeds /^i,90O. But even this noble sum cannot be rightly estimated, unless it is borne in mind that it represents the distinct offerings, as nearly as we can calculate, of some twelve thousand contributors. Many also of the letters accom- panying the contributions indicate that even the smallest offerings "have cost " the givers "something," and are literally expressions of heart -gratitude to "the sweet singer," who stimulated so many to the consecrated life, and whose voice, happily, in her Royal books, still — " Rings on with holy influence deep and strong." We venture to express the hope that others will yet " cast in their mite." It should be borne in mind that the twofold object of the Fund affords scope for the expenditure of almost any amount that could be raised. The openings for the employment of native Bible women in India might indeed almost engross the funds of a Society ; and thje circulation of translated and selected portions of F. R. H.'s writings, in India and other mission fields, would well employ the amount already raised. As one indication only of the need of Christian literature in our mission fields, and the special fitness of selections from F. R. H.'s books for circulation, the Rev. Prebendary Wright says: "The IHv .1^- :ir >i^ i, . I i - M i 366 MEMORiALii OF F. F. H. following extract from a letter just received from one of our missionaries in Ceylon shows that there need be no fear of our being able to put the F R. II. Memorial Fund to good account : — ' I have begun to translate Miss Havergal's "My King" into Singh- alese, and ask for a grant to print and bind the same. I intend to translate her other works.* " The Christian Vernacular Education Society for India has also just issued a circular, staging that " for lack of Christian literature in the mother tongues (the sixteen native languages spoken by the 240,000,000 of our fellow subjects in India) the work of the mission- ary and Zenana teacher is greatly crippled, and parents have been known to object to their daughters acquiring the art of reading, from the non-existence of a pure vernacular literature to interest and instruct them, which induces them to exercise their new power in perusing the polluting publications of the native press." We hope "other mission fields" (European, African, and American, as well as Asiatic) will also be reached by F. R. H.'s translated books ; but even confining ourselves to India, it is sufficiently clear t'liat further offerings to the Memorial Fund may well and wisely be made by those who have not already contributed. Contributions can be sent to the Rev. Charles Bullock, Hon. Sec. of the Fund, 7, The Paragon, Blackheath, S.E. Cheques and P.O. Orders payable to C. Douglas Fox, Esq., Hon. Treasurer. All sums received are acknowledged weekly in Hand and Heart, The family of Frances Ridley Havergal must express their gratitude for the love to their sister which these offerings so fully testify. They also wish to thank the Rev. Charles and Mrs. Bullock for their energy and personal labour in widely scattering appeals, and then answering thousands of letters. This is indeed a tribute of love from the friends of both our beloved father and sister. From the deeply touching letters received we copy the following. \ APPENDIX. 367 {To Rev. C. Bullock.) I humbly write enclosing one shilling for the F. R. H. Memorial Fund ; it is a poor mvalid's humble mite. I will, with you*- per- mission, relate the circumstances under which it is sent. I have been afflicted more than nine years. A friend sent me " Royal Commandments " ; this book is indeed a joy and comfort to my soul, and I read my daily commandment with a pure happiness, and each day gain a renewal of strength from my King. The portions for the tenth and eighteenth days have been an especial blessing to me. The book is very dear to me. I most willingly deny myself some little necessity that I may contribute to the Fund. Joseph Harrison. (To Rev. C. Bullock, enclosing a post office order for ten shillings?) Wolverhampton, February 23, 1880. It is my privilege to be able to add my humble testimony to the work of that devoted servant of Christ, Miss F. R. Mavergal, so lately called away to receive her reward, and not only so, but I am also glad as a railway working man to be able to send you a little help towards swelling the Memorial Fund of one so truly blessed. I have latterly obtained some of her writings, which I find to be of the greatest value, and I trust, with God's help and blessing, will be so esteemed by us as to rank next in value to the word of God itself. My own spiritual experiences I find so clearly marked out in what she has written in that beautiful book, "Kept tor the Master's Use," that I am sure God will give great success to the extension of such a dissemination of precious truths, which (with the aid of His Spirit) not only show the erring child the besetting sin which keeps back the entire consecration to His service, but must also stand as a "lamp" to guide the feet of many a poor sinner grovelling amidst the darkness of this world, and lead them up to that light and liberty wherewith Christ doth make His children free. Yours respectfully, William Butler. (1/;;! 368 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H, Very many letters have been received, from all parts, acknowledging blessings received through the books which it is proposed by this Fund to translate and circulate; and as specimens, and incentives, we may reprint the following. Si {^Extract from a letter of the Baroness Wrewsky, GolubowOy Russia, November 1879, to J. E. J.) Thank you for your ki.ndness in sending those two lovely little books of Miss Havergal's, which reached me quite safely, and have come to rejoice both me and my liitle girl, who with her brother studies every morning the chapters quoted in " Morning Stars," and finds out the verses. I am just delighting in ** Kept for the Master's Use," and thank you so much for sending it. It is so full of earnest, realizing faith and love in Jesus, that it quite stirs one's heart to the very depths. Oh for such entire consecration, for such a life of faith and close communion ! Oh, how I long for it, how I pray for it ! (From Mrs. Keightley, Mynora, Sydney, December 1879, to J. M. C.) I received " The Last Week " which you were so kind as to send me. Our clergyman, Mr. Taylor, was so impressed with the account, that he took the liberty of writing an article on it in The Australian Churchman, which I now send. I also saw a very nice article in The Christian Herald \ and there have been several sermons preached on the life and death of your dear sister in vaiious parts of the colony. She was indeed a shining light. There is a gentle- man in this district, now officiating as catechist to Mr. Taylor, a Mr. Frazer, who entirely ascribes his conversion, under God's bleSiS- ing, to F. R. H.'s writings. Very handsome contributions to the Memorial Fund have come from this colony. Many similar testimonies have been received from all APPENDIX. 369 parts of the world ; and thus, though not permitted to carry out her lifelong wish to be a missionary, yet the Lord has used my dear sister's books, in far distant missionary stations. It has been suggested that it would be very desirable if yearly subscriptions were paid to the F. R. H. Fund, thus continuously to carry on the support of trained Bible women, who, with the living voice in the Zenanas, may long echo her words, as well as the translation of her works. I B P, 370 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. ■^i ,k / '•'■ ? » i FROM THE CHURCH PASTORAL-AID SOCIETY'S QUARTERLY PAPER. The death of Miss Frances Ridley Havergal, which took place at Caswell Bay, near Swansea, on the 3rd of June last, has been deeply deplored by the Christian church at large. The many volumes of hymns and meditations from her pen on the " things touching the King " are so vividly impressed on the minds of most of our readers that it is sometimes difficult to feel that she could possibly have written of anything else. Her illness was of short duration, and the circumstances of her early removal, almost by a sudden stroke, invest with a peculiar interest the following extract from correspondence with reference to the offer which she made of devoting the proceeds of the sale of her piano, the gift of her talented father, to the funds of the Society. In a letter to the Secretary, from which he is privileged to quote, her sister wrote : " It may be of use to you, in writing about the gift, to recall the exact circumstances. Towards the end of last year, my dear sister read the statement of the failing funds of the Church Pastoral-Aid Society, whose noble work she always admired and sympathised with. She expressed to me her desire and intention of sending a cheque for ;^5o, but just then the claims of some other Societies were so urgently laid before her that she gave to them instead. But the longing also to help the noble and half-paid workers in the Church vineyard still weighed on her, and I remember her saying, How I wish I could send off a cheque at once ! but fear I must wait a year.* But, as with other generous gifts, she waited not, but with much delight told me that she would give her much-valued piano, left to her by her beloved father. It originally cost no guineas, and as it had been so little used she would not let it go under the half price. It was too large for our rooms in Wales, hence she resolved to give it to your Society." Little did the Committee think, in the course of their corre- spondence with 'Miss F. R. Havergal on the subject of her offer, that she who had so often sung in sweetest strains of expectation of future and endless joy in Christ was so near the border of the land of promised rest. Since her death, the gift, ;^5o, has been received. APPENDIX. 371 IRISH SOCIETY, For Promoting the Scriptural Education and Religious Instruction of the Irish-speaking Population^ chiefly through the medium of their own language. 17, Upper Sackville Street, Dublin, 10/// June^ 1879. Resolved — That this Committee has learned with very deep regret of the death of Miss Frances Ridley Ilavergal, to her a blessed change, for her removal from the \n ork ^■^r Christ on earth was to be with Christ, which is ftr be ;r ; but a loss to the church of '^hrist throughout the world, and a serious loss to the Irish Society, for which she had been an inde- fatigable collector and advocate, for which she had written her popular little book "Bruey," and established the Juvenile Branch called the " Bruey " Branch, and for which she was about to undertake a tour of visits to its mission stations in Ireland, with the intention of writing sketches of her tour, when it pleased God to take her to Himself. The Committee desires to convey to her family the expression of deep and heartfelt sympathy ; copies of this resolution to be sent, in sorrowing remembrance, to her sister. Miss Ilavergal, of the Mumbles, Swansea, and to Giles Shaw, Esq., her brother-in-law. Moved by Rev. Henry Carleton, Hon. Sec. Seconded by Denis Crofton, Esq. Frederick Homan, Esq., Chairman. Unanimously. HOW F. R. H.'s WORK FOR THE IRISH SOCIETY BEGAN, IN 1856. It was her brother-in-law's custom to drive into Dublin every Tuesday morning, at seven, to attend the com- mittees of the Hibernian Bible and the Irish Society. I III! I' I 1 i 372 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. m : i Frances often accompanied him. While Mr. Shaw was preparing the financial report she got into conversation with Mr. Robert Wyon, the accountant of the Irish Society. He interested her so much in its work, and gave her such stirring details, that she at once took her first collecting card. From collecting £,\ in 1856, she had in March, 1879, sent in more than £^<)oq to this Society. In 1859, with her dear father's full consent, she or- ganized a branch society in Worcester. Its meeting was addressed by the Rev. Thomas Moriarty, and we give her own bright words at this time. June by 1859. Our Irish "go " went off tip top. I determined to leave no stone unturned within my power. I wrote a sketch of Mr. Moriarty's conversion from Romanism, and papa let me send it to the Worcester yournal. The room was full, and the platform too. Mr. Moriarty's speech was glorious, not faultless, but effective and telling. The hardships he has gone through are incredible, but in his beautiful seagirt Ventry he has now two hundred confirmants around him. He is still sowing and watering, and may a yet richer ingathering be vouchsafed to him ! That man fascinated me to the last degree. After the meeting he and papa were deep in ** signs of the times," and all that style of thing, so interesting I When Mr. Moriarty went away, he laid his hand on my head, and said in a way I shall never forget, so gently, solemnly, and holily, " God be very gracious to you, my child." It was like dew, as if a tangible blessing came in it. In connection with the progress of her Irish Society's work, the following particulars will be interesting. Frances' first collector in Worcester was a little girl named " Bruey." The book so called was written aftev her death. The outline of her simple story is true. One of her names was Bruce, hence her pet name of Bruey ; the sketch of her character is founded on recollections APPENDIX. 373 ty's ftev and incidents. Briiey's Sunday-school work, the Irish meeting, the Irish card, and the forty-one names, her illness and peaceful death, are all facts. " Bruey " has been translated into most lively and idiomatic French by Mdlle. Tabarie', changing the name to " Lilla." * My dear sister's collectors so increased, that she thought it would be well to make them a branch of the Irish Society's tree. Because Bruey was her first collector, she called it the " Bruey Branch." The first who collected in this branch was a lovely child, " Little Nony." Hear- ing of her illness some months after, Frances sent her this sweet little note. My dear Nony, — I had no idea you were suflering so much all this time. I think Jesus must have been carrying you in His arms all the while, because, you see, when anybody can't even walk they must be carried. And I am quite sure He must be loving you ever so much, I mean with a very special and tender love, because it says, ' Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth.' I thank you so much for the violets. I have such a number of Bruey collectors that I hardly know how I shall manage them all. We shall have a famous Report next year I hope. . . . Very much love from your loving friend, F. R. H. Dear little Nony's work for Jesus, and patient suffering, ended on the evening of May ist, 1879, o^^y ^ month before the founder of the Bruey Branch of the Irish Society was herself called away to rest from her labours. Possibly my sister's circular letters to her young friends may hereafter be printed ; but the two following epistles will show how thankfully she wrote to those who helped >IS mm ■ ! II * •• Lilla, traduit librement par Mdlle. Marie Tabari6." Paris : J. Bonheure, 48 Rue de Lille. 'i;;i| 374 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. w .. :,|, m h in the work, and how she did not scruple to ask, for the Society, an introduction which she would never think of working out for herself. (To Emmeline Parkinson^ My dear little Fellow Worker, — I have had a good many pleasant surprises in the course of my Irish collecting, but I don't recollect that I ever had a pleasanter one than yours. You have actually beaten Bruey herself, for she had forty-one and you have forty-four names ! I wonder if this is your first attempt at working for Christ ! I think, dear Emmeline, the Lord Jesus knows all about it, knows that you have been trying to be a little worker for Ilim ; is not that very nice? Now, 1 will ask Him to send you a great blessing on what you have collected, so that those who are taught by means of your money may not only learn to read of Jesus in His word, but may learn to love Him and tell others about Him. Perhaps you have done more for the Irish Society than you suppose ! because you have put an idea in my head. Three little girls lately wrote me a letter, something like your first one, having liked '* Bruey " so much. I was not well enough to write to them at the time, but now I shall write and send them each a book, and make the same request I did to you, and then possibly they too may go to work ; and it will really be your doing if they also collect. I will tell you about one of my collectors, an invalid. When going to visit her one day, I prayed that the Lord Jesus would help me to say something to comfort her. And then He seemed to put into my mind that if I could only think of some work for Christ for her to do, it would do her more good than anything. So I put a collecting card in my pocket. When I got there she had been par- ticularly wanting to see rae that day, for she had been so sad, think- ing she could do nothing for Jesus, and for a whole week had prayed He would let her do just something for Him. So I took out my green card, and told her I thought He had guided me to bring her a bit of work to do, and would she try and collect just a little for these poor Irish, who cannot be reached by people who can only speak English ? So she was delighted, and took it as God's APPENDIX. 375 own answer, and has ever considered it as the work lie had given her to do. May I send my special thanks to your mamma, both for allowing you to collect and for so kindly helping you. Your loving Friend, F. R. H. {To .) PyRMONT Villa, Leamington, iV<7z;^;;^3^;' 20, 1873. Dear Sir,— I must send a .wW lines of grateful thanks for your prayer for me. I do indeed thank you most earnestly, and may our great and beloved Intercessor not only present those petitions with His own sweet incense for me, but return the blessing sevenfold upon yourself and your work. . . I wonder if I may ask a little favour ! Will you hand the enclosed little notices of a new book of mine to any members of your congre- gation who may be on the look out for Chiistmas presents for children of ten to fourteen years of age. I particularly want to reach by it those of Christ's IMe ones who are beginning to wish to love Ilim and to work for Mim. It is "a story book," but founded on fact. "Bruey" was the real name of a dear little girl in my beloved father's parish at Worcester. Your work is immense indeed. How glad you will be of the "rest that remaineth" ; but it is nicer still to think that " His servants shall serve Him," without fatigue, or fear, or imperfection, or any failure. With very best wishes I am, dear sir, yours in Him whom having not seen we love, Frances R. Havergal. By F. R. H.'s wish her work is still carried on, by two Secretaries appointed for the Bruey Branch : Miss Emily Titterton, The Lindens, Leamington, and Miss Mary Fay, Ivy Cottage, Celbridge. And a letter lately received from Mr. Fitzpatrick says : *' I find that on the comple- tion of our * Bruey ' accounts there appears an amount far larger than I mentioned. ... It now proves to be ^^789 i8f. How wonderful ! We thank God." % 376 MEMORIALS OF F, R. H. '¥' ^ 'W'^ :'!,., .- "I V6 \From the many loving tributes to my sister's memory , the following are selected for reproduction here>\ IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY DEAR AUNT, F. R. H. JUNE yd, 1879. The King's "all glorious" daughter Hath reached her home to-day ; She was so true and loyal Along her heavenward way I Her faith was ever gazing Towards that peaceful shore, Her eyes were ever watching The Everlasting "Door." As on the "wheels of fire," The chariot bore her home, The King hath called her higher Into His royal dome. The trumpet tone hath sounded, Her willing voice replied j Now, with encircled glory, She sitteth at His side. Christ's perfect "blood that cleanseth* Was all her entrance plea ; That crimson stream which flcweth Hath set her spirit free; And, " I am trusting Jesus" Was the keynote of her life, She realized His power V Throughout her earthly strife. • V APPENDIX, m She gloried in His Presence, Exulted in His Love! Thus making earth a foretaste Of richer joys above ! She gave up human favour To win a soul for Him, Nor did her own life's shadows Ever her ardour dim. Like Him, her blessM Master, She ever sought to cheer Those weary ones in darkness, Along this desert drear. Her soul-inspiring music Enchained the listening thronj; And countless hearts were lightened By her "Ministry of Song." That gentle, holy streamlet, Which "Under the Surface" lay, Hath reached the mighty ocean Where all is perfect day ! Her "Life Mosaic" glittered With many a sparkling gem ; Her King's hand now hath set it In His royal diadem. Now, sisters, ye who mourn her, Let this your tribute be ; E'en as this sainted minstrel, "Tell out" Christ's love so free I Lay at His feet your song-gift, Ask Him your voice to fill With holy, heavenly music, Echo of His sweet will. Cecilia Havirgal. ;'J7 w I 378 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H, Ml a. ' s ; % !i r* *,' <*J Hi s OUR "SWKET SINGER." Was there silence over yonder? Did the angels cease to sing, As they waited on in womlcr For the mandate of their King? When the royal word was given, By which all our hopes were crushed* Was there silence up in heaven? Were the Hallelujahs hushed? When the shining golden sceptre Touched the form we loved so well| As we wished we could have kept her, That she still with us might dwell; While the messenger descended, Calling her from us away, While our knees in prayer were bended. Pleading hard for her to stay j Was there restless earnest longing Mid the white-robed choral band, As with eager footsteps thronging At the gate they took their stand? Was there overflowing gladness, On each bright expectant face, While our hearts were bowed with sadness. And we mourned her vacant place ? Ah ! methinks that when she entered Those celestial courts above, Every thouglit and eye was centred . On the object of their love, That the silence then was broken By triumphant buists of song, For the vord the King had spoken, Which had bid her join their throi?g. \ APPEXDIX, 379 But she passed them all unheeded, With a (juick iinpaiicnt spring ; As she onward, onward spee«leil, Till she stood before her King. How her raptured eyes would glisten. With a lustre, oh, so l)right ! And she still would stand to listen, And to revel in that sight ! Then methinks she struck the chorus, And her rich melodious voice Was above their tones sonorous, Even sweeter and more choice. But to us the echo, stealing, Of the beautiful refrain, Bringeth life, and light, and healing. Bidding us look up again. Now we need not, cannot sorrow, We must wipe our tears away j And from her example borrow Courage in the darkest day. We must think of her as dwelling In the presence of her King, Where the angel-voices swelling Make the palace waUs to ring. If \.ft daily do our duty With her singlen,L>s of aim. We shall see His wondrous beauty, And shall magnify His name. We may not be highly gifted. We may fill a little space ; " But the meek shall be uplifted. And the pure ones see His face. Ellen Lakshmi Gorek. i 380 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. t, '. % *'THE GATES OF HEAVEN." In the forefront of God's embatlieJ host, Long in her Master's service had she striven, So she could raise the evangelic boast — "Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven." Amid the sacred choir who praise the King A harp of sweetest strings to her was given ; And now she felt what she was wont to sing — '•Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven.'* With self-consuming labour she had cast In the world's careless mass the gospel leaven, And now could say, her tired hand stayed at last,— ** Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven." Much had she loved Him whom she had not seen; The veil which hid His face was almost riven ; Deep was the outburst of her joy serene — "Splendid to be so near the Gates of Heaven." And now she stands before the Father's throne. The Lamb who once was slain, the Spirits seven ; Ah, who can tell the bliss which thrills her tone — "Splendid to be within the Gates of Heaven!" Richard Wilton, M.A, Londesborough Rectory, In Memoriam. FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. Farewell, fond spirit, bright before the throng R adiant thy robe, transfigured like the sun ; A ngel of song, with harp and heart and voice, N ear the bright Seraphim of God rejoice ; Could we but see thee in thy "palace" fair, E ver with God, His glory now to share. Should we not sing our loudest chorus there? APPENDIX. 381 R est thee, dear soul, thy toils and trials o'er, I n Heaven is rest, for pilgrims evermore ; D eath takes the body out of mortal sight, Life lifts the spirit into Heaven's own light; E ver with God, thy fathers' God, to be, Y outh without age, a bright Ete'iity. H ark ! 'tis a song, as never sung before ; A nthem more sweet, from yon bright happy shore ; V oice ever thrilling, singing now above, E ndless its praises of the Father's love. R est, aching head ! for after toil is rest ; G od takes thee home — home to thy Father's breast, A 11 weary pain and travel of the road L ost in the light and glory of thy God ! Robert Maguire, D.D. i! ii! I" «*S0 BEAUTIFUL TO GO." *' So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " The joys of time are waning ; The friends I loved so well have hastened on before ; And, as they passed away, — my longing heart restraining, I 've asked when / should join them on the blessed shore ? "So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " for heaven is wondrous dearer, Since cherished human links have bound me to the Throne I Oft hath the veil seemed rent, and heaven itself been nearer. As hope by hope hath faded, — some but new iy blown 1 ** So BEAUTIFUL TO GO 1 " to leave earth's many sorrows. To enter on the fulness of eternal joy I But I had fondly dreamt of many bright to-morrows,— Of harder labour still in my dear Lord's employ ! "So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " for now my spirit boundeth At mention of that name, — that Name I love the best I Behold a shoreless sea faith's plummet never soundeth, — The name of Jesus, — telling me of peace and rest 1 382 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. \ O \ 1 1 •* "So BEAUTIFUL TO GO," then !— I shall be with Jesus; Yea, with that glorious Father He made known to me ; "Whose love that "passeth knowledge " did from sin release us, And who now calls me with Him evermore to be 1 "So BEAUTIFUL TO GO !" my life of trusting en''ed, — For I have trusted Thee, Lord Jesus, day by day ; And I Ijave sung to others how Thy love transcended Earth's noblest joys, in many a brief, but heartfelt lay ! ** So BEAUTIFUL TO GO !" yet I had hoped to linger Among Thy chosen ones, to sing yet blither songs ; For my supremest joy hath been, a humble singer, To win fresh trophies to the blood- washed throngs I "So BEAUTIFUL TO GO ! " yca, it will be "far better"! 'Twas always better far to bow to Thy sweet will j And I have trusted. Saviour, to the very letter, Thy well-tried promises, — am dying, trusting still! I ft And thus she passed away ; — so beautiful in dying. As she had been in living, — grand in simple faith: Her watchword, " Trust Him" tells the secret underlying Her fragrant life of beauty, her victorious death I So beautiful ! And now she, being dead, yet speaketh I Ker songs of faith and hope shall never, never die 1 And even by her last, sweet, lifelike words she seeketh To prove that simple trust will our last foe defy I Then be it ours to garner, as a peerless treasure, Those living words that such a vital courage show ; Ever to trust in Jesus, — love Him without measure; Then, too, our song shall be "How beautiful to go!** Edwin Chas. Wrenford. Millbank House, Nairn, yune $th, 1879. ' \\ s APPENDIX. 383 JUNE yd, 1879. "Such sad, sad news." We say; And the heart bids forth weak tears. Our foolish eyes, through their own mists dim. Cannot see the resting joy of Him Who treads with her the golden way, Where the star-lamps pale in the passing ray, And the throne uplifted nears. It came with such high urgency — The summons from her King I He might not be denied to stay Through the weary night, and faint hope of day, In that quiet home beside the sea ; Who would not charge an angel's wing His message to His own to brinfj. And we held our dear one lovingly : — Ah, the strong, scarred Hand we could not see. When one tender touch on her wrist had lain, Stayed its faint pulse with ecstasy, And made our claspings vain. Was there not a whispered name? ** Thou art Mine — My wanted one ! In Our palace that stands by the crystal sea, Thy place is ready — up near to Me ; The seas of earth ever chafe and moan, On her sweetest homes are her shadows thrown. And her night must fall the same ;— No murmur is heard, no dimness known, In My land beyond the sun." It is sweet to prepare our home With Love's close-searching thought, ■^% MEMORIALS OF F. R. H. All through a long, glad clay, for one W^ho for us true, loving work has done : To arrange the seat where the warm rays come- Where the fairest view i? caught, And a little picture shall meet the eye That the dear hand painted in years gone by ; To gather and place our guarded flowers, And set out all our choicest things, — Chiding slow Time through the counted hours That will fold so close their wings; — Coming pausingly back, ere the step we meet, To make sure of all we have planned, to greet With voiceless welcomings. And the joy — in our home made fair, Yet again to clasp a hand ; To meet the full light of dear, trustful eyes, And watch for the smile of glad surprise At Love's simple triumphs there j While the day is fading off the land, As the sun shuts slowly his opal gate, And in the tremulous, fragrant air, All through the hush of the hours we wait For the sentinel stars that come forth late, In their gleaming watch to stand. Ah ! we dare not grudge to the Master His joy In her gaze of speechful love At the unpriced treasures His Love has bought^ The gathered bliss of Eternal Thought ; In the hidden face raised wonderingly At a memory of fervent words inwrought, An echo of her own music caught In the melodies above : As the dim earth sinks wearily Beneath the verge of a waveless sea, And so near her Saviour's breast, From the white-robed ones who round her presi ^ A PPENDIX. 38s With offered stars her crown to gem, She learns the accent of the hymn That may not be sung by Seraphim ; Its rapture of bliss is sealed to them — 'Hiat is filling the endless silences Where unsetting glories rest. In this little life's chill twilight ■ We shall miss her sweet words and strong; Yet for us the stars shall come with night, And through all the pitiless heat of the day Our hearts must wrestle, and throb, and pray, And trust for Evensong. Would we take from 1 1 is heart one joyous thrill Who for us bore all the shame ? In the still, lifted light of the Sapphire Throne That no child of earth may behold alone, She hears a voice : — " I will. Father, that Mine whom Thou gavest Me Be with Me where I am." — And while the heavens are swept and bowed By the might of the angel-song, And veiling their hills as a golden cloud, Float by the ransomed throng ; She lifts to His an untroubled face, That caught of Heaven's light a wondrous grace, When It lit earth's frontier dim. Home, in the palace of her King I Yet in her loyal heart a prayer That only may be spoken now, With the promised glory on her brow, That in fullest service, and sweetest hymn, Her love may still its tribute bring To His — that led her there. S. G. Prout, author of "Never Say Die.* CC 386 MEMORIALS OF F. R. U, IN MEMORIAM.— F. R. H. Where are the well-remembered lays, "Whose lingering echoes memory still Prolongs, with fond regretful gaze, Bent heavenward, toward the holy hill? Where the sweet voice whose tones are mute, The magic music of the lute? Whither have wended the unearthly strains, Toe pure, too full of heaven to die on earth's dark plains? They die not ! As the opening flower, That drooped at night with closed eye, Awakes with morn's reviving power, In beauty, when the sun is nigh ; E'en so the notes of praise expand, • Diviner, in the spirit land, Breathing immortal incense of the skies. Blended in sweet accord with heavenly harmonies, Instinct e'en here with life Divine, Attuned to heaven e'en here on earth, With brighter beauty now they shine. What nien call death is their new birth ; In sweeter melody they rise, Fragrant as flowers of paradise; 'Like the angelic choir, they cannot die, Preludes of triumph-songs of imn ^ality I E'en while they spring to life and light, Wafted on seraph-wings to heaven, Their beauty lingers round our night. Their sweetness to our earth is given ; Upon our darkling path below Their glory, streaming, gilds our woe. Their heaven-bom tone, earth's voices in refra'**, Mingling responsive mucic, echo back again. Sydling Vicarage, Dorset. W. J. Vernon, B.A. mma mmm APPENDIX. " SWEET SINGER AND YET STRONG." Sweet singer ! singing long Songs that have found an echo in the heart Of thousands, in life's conflict bearing parti Sweet singer, and yet strong I The strength and sweetness meet In thee, as day-dawn on some mountain's head. Or summer sunset on the ocean shed-^ ^ Strong smger, and yet sweet I Wise singer f To the sad Givmg the comfort that thy God gave thee. Even to ;«air' thy '.living,'' it mTbei^ V/ise smger, making glad .' Glad singer! upon eyes Opened to see the light that shone for thine A bnghter hght, thy s nging brought, would shin.^ Glad smger, making wise ! God's singer ! In a land Of alien thought and language thou didst sing The songs of Zion ; now before thy King ^ Blest singer, thou dost stand ! Thine earthly singing o'er— Thy singing sweet, and strong, and dad :^r.A • Thou art, among the choir of^aradife ' """~ A singer evermore I Swaffield, North Walsham, r- d ^ June loth, 1879. ^" ^' ^^^^°^' M.A. m MEMORIALS OF F. R, h. IN MEMORY OF F. R. H., WHO ENTERED INTO KEST JUNE 3RD, 1879. Aged /\.2 Years. Forty-two stations, and then fair Canaan's rest, God's Israel journeyed, and in full time were blest ; The number of the waymarks their Guide could tell, The route of all the wanderings He ordered well. (Numbers xxxiii) Forty-two portions according to God's will, Varied the labours, and diverse too the skill ; Forty-two portions, then Salem's wall was raised, The work was finished — Jehovah God was praised. {Nehemiah iii.) Forty-two descents, and then the Christ was bom, Crown and sceptre His, and ours the eternal morn ; The hour of Advent all wisely fixed above, "Forty- two," counted by rich Almighty Love. (Matthew \. 17.) Forty- two brief years, and then the rest of heaven, God's pure home was hers, the welcome sweet was given ; Journeys and buildings, all now for ever o'er, 'Neath Love's own banner, "with Christ" for evermore. (Philippians i. 23.) A. C. TUISELTON. Parsonage^ Up^er Bagot St.^ Dublin^ APPENDIX. 389 u.) 11.) 7.) n; }.) N. JUNE ird, 1879. The Church's sweetest minstrd Has left her ranks to-day ; The Master sent His summo'n* To call her hence away : A summons to His presence. To see Him face to face, To share with Him His glory. In her appointed place. She sees Him in His beauty, "The King" she served so well, Of whose perfections daily She loved so much to tell. His least command she followed, His slightest wish obeyed ; So when His herald met her, She could not be afraid. But oh ! our sweet, sweet singer. Gone from our midst for aye I Who now shall lead our choirs Since thou hast passed awayC No hand can tune the lyre So tenderly as thine; No other voice can reach us. With strains almost Divine. Thousands on earth have loved the^ Who never saw thy face ; In countless hearts thy teachings Have found abiding place. The truths which thou hast uttered, In purest melody, Have reached the souls of numbers, Though all unknown to thee. 390 MEMORIALS OF F. R. H, Through England's wide dominions We mourn from shore to shore, That Frances Ridley Havergal Is in our midst no more. That name so dear, so precious, Loved as a ** household word,** ' Henceforth to us is sacred, For she is ** with the Lord 1'* We mourn in silent sadness The loss we have sustained ; The tears still flow xyibidden. Our hearts within are pained. And yet we dare not murmur, Nor ask why this must be. Since God's own hand has silenced That sweetest minstrelsy. Alice Forrest. FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. Fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God. — Col. i. lo. Rooted and built up in Him. — Col. ii. 7. A chosen vessel unto Me, to bear My name. — Acts ix. 15. Now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace. — Luke\\. 29. Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether by life or by death.— /%//. i. 20. Everlasting joy shall be upon their head. — Isa. li. ii. Satisfied with favour, and full with the blessing of the Lord. — Deut. xxxiii. 23. Rise up. My love, My fair one, and come away ! — Cant, ii. lo. If ye loved Me, ye would rejoice. — yohn xiv. 28. Delight thy.self also in the Lord. — Ps. xxxvii. 4. Let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us. — Ps. xc. 17. Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord ! — Matt. xxv. 21. Ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord. — I 6V?r.xv.58. APPENDIX. "°"p"?i?!.7..°!;,?°;';.- "«'" - "Ke u„.„ a s,„„e .os. Verily, verily, I .«y „„,„ turned into joy. -■>/,„ /„/ jo • • l^'^' Mrrow slull be ''X''e.f!^.r;i^«/^» i-o .„e ground and die, i. abide.h And they .^,„ »;,'"':;:""„; '"^'^ «°"-A--.xxi.t forelieads.-^,^,. xxii. 4 ' ""'' "'' """' ^^'^l be in their Let Me go, for the day breake.h.-&«. xxxii. 26. " ' *iXU!^^l ^r:i »- thee, and we shall .peak face Emily M. Coombe.