UC-NRLF 
 
 . __^____^___ 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 CERF LIBRARY 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 REBECCA CERF '02 
 
 IN THE NAMES OF 
 
 CHARLOTTE CERF '95 
 
 MARCEL E. CERF '97 
 
 BARRY CERF '02 
 
Records 
 
 OF 
 
 A Quiet Life. 
 
 BY 
 
 AUGUSTUS J. C. HARE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "WALKS IN ROME," ETC. 
 
 REVISED FOR AMERICAN READERS BY WILLIAM L. GAGE. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS. 
 
 1874. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 a^{ 
 
 Cambridge: 
 Press of John Wilson and Son. 
 
C T738 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. The Hares of Hurstmonceaux i 
 
 II. Augustus and Julius Hare 6 
 
 III. Stoke, Alderley, and Hodnet 30 
 
 IV. Changes 40 
 
 V. West Woodhay 57 
 
 VI. Home Portraiture 68 
 
 VII. Taking Root at Alton 102 
 
 VIII. Journals, "The Green Book" 131 
 
 IX. Village Duties 138 
 
 X. Sunshine 149 
 
 XI. The Shadow of the Cloud 177 
 
 XII. From Sunshine into Shade 209 
 
 XIII. Hurstmonceaux Rectory 239 
 
 XIV. The Silver Lining of the Cloud 286 
 
 XV. Home-Life at Lime 303 
 
 XVI. Failing Health and Foreign Travel ... 331 
 
 XVII. Holmhurst 347 
 
 XVIII. The Sunset before the Dawn 361 
 
 M567333 
 
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 T^VER since the publication of the " Guesses at 
 '-' Truth," "The Mission of the Comforter;' 
 and " Sermons to a Country Congregation/' I have 
 been eager to learn what I could as to the external 
 life of men so gifted as were Julius and Augustus 
 Hare. Glimpses of this have been afforded by the 
 lives of John Sterling, Dr. Arnold, and Baron 
 Bunsen ; but the book which is now presented to 
 the reader gives by far the best response, not only 
 to my own inquiries, but to the curiosity of many 
 readers. For, in the upper circles of English 
 thought and influence, few men have more ob- 
 viously and more deeply moved their contem- 
 poraries than have the Hares. You touch them 
 everywhere the moment you enter those domains 
 of English life where the most significant move- 
 ments of our time have their spring ; and the names 
 of Manning, Newman, Dean Stanley and Alford, 
 Bishop Heber, Bunsen, Wordsworth, Landor, Mau- 
 
IV PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 rice, Sterling, and Arnold, represent but a part of the 
 eminent men whose inner life and external action 
 are traced upon these pages. These " Records of 
 a Quiet Life" are, therefore, more than their name 
 implies ; for the great and stirring movements of 
 English mind within our day form no slight share 
 of this book. But central to all is the life of one 
 woman, the wife of Augustus Hare, a woman of 
 such integrity of soul, such depth, sweetness, purity, 
 culture, and piety, as to have made her uncon- 
 sciously the mainspring of those great and power- 
 ful intellects, so well known to us through their 
 names and their workings. With the exception of 
 Caroline Perthes, I know of no woman who stands 
 before Maria Hare in the quiet force of character, 
 the product of a genuine nature, ministered to by 
 all that is best in our age, and working out through 
 the channels of the affections and domestic life. 
 And hence the book will reach out to a vastly larger 
 circle than that retired and scholarly one which is 
 interested in the Hare family. A life like this will 
 profoundly move and healthfully quicken all Chris- 
 tians, and will win its way into uncounted house- 
 holds, which may perhaps know little and care little 
 for English writers and thinkers, but which recog- 
 nize and honor and love such qualities as this 
 book reveals. How beautifully Schiller has hit this 
 in his familiar lines : 
 
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. V 
 
 " Denn wo das Strenge mit dem Zarten, 
 Wo Starkes sich und Mildes paarten, 
 Da gibt es einen guten Klang." 
 
 "Where gentleness with strength we find, 
 The tender with the stern combined, 
 The harmony is sweet and strong." 
 
 And how true an answer does such a life as this 
 give to those who are wanting woman to come out 
 into the clangor of life, and into its externalities 
 and deeds. Away from public gaze are the pure 
 and gentle and strong souls which are the inspira- 
 tion of the time, and the best possession of the 
 nation. 
 
 It has been well and truly said that the finest 
 type of domestic life, in our day, is found in the 
 family of an English clergyman. Even the novelists 
 give us plentiful hints thereof, and such works 
 as this confirm it. That peace, culture, unob- 
 trusive piety, home love, and home beauty that 
 we all desire, but so seldom see, are oftener met, 
 I think, in the English parsonage than anywhere 
 else. Perhaps the American parsonage follows hard 
 upon it, but it can never be the same till a more 
 graceful architecture, luxuriant and overhanging 
 vines, well-trimmed hedges, and the exquisite finish 
 of an English home are found with us. The pict- 
 ures which are scattered through this very volume 
 are evidence enough of this. But such homes as 
 
VI PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 this book holds up are a good " ensample " for 
 Americans ; and I do not believe a wife or husband 
 can read these pages, be their home a peaceful or 
 a jarring one, without coming under the spell of a 
 mighty influence. Never has the story of a holier 
 and more lasting affection been told than on these 
 pages ; nowhere one which has more magnetic power 
 to charm and hallow the households of our nation. 
 This book shows abundantly, too, that, amid 
 social surroundings of the most dainty sort, the 
 Christian life may shine as the light and warmth 
 and fragrance of the whole. At the very opening 
 of this volume the reader encounters, and thence- 
 forward continues, with those who are aristocratic 
 in the truest sense of the word. Birth, breeding, 
 learning, culture, all are here, but not, as is too 
 much the case with us, divorced from a high and 
 true spiritual life, but making this the most potent 
 of all auxiliaries. Has it not come to that pass with 
 us, when we almost take it for granted that those 
 who have had the greatest advantages are the most 
 deficient in piety ? when we should be surprised 
 that they should be the most tender and earnest in 
 the deeper life of the soul ? But this book furnishes 
 the key to correct this, and lets us into the secret 
 of a life which builds, upon external conditions and 
 acquired advantages, a loftier and nobler temple, 
 one in which a perfect symmetry is preserved. J 
 
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. Vll 
 
 often think that in that picture of the New Jerusa- 
 lem, which is to come down one day from heaven 
 and rest upon this earth of ours, the height and 
 length and breadth are to be equal. Is there not a 
 gracious hint in this of a symmetry in character 
 which we have too long neglected ? 
 
 As I have read this book in its uncurtailed 
 English form,* and the preface of its author, Mr. 
 Augustus J. C. Hare, I have felt again and again, 
 with constantly renewed gratitude, what a privilege 
 is afforded here of entering circles which, in the 
 ordinary course of nature, would have closed up 
 with the death of their members, and be as if they 
 had never been. Who of us has not longed to 
 enter the homes of our greatest men and women, 
 and listen to their voices and feel the power of 
 their presence? Their autograph may reach us, 
 and has to content us, from the very conditions of 
 the case ; and what comes to us must be their public 
 words and the rumor of their ways. But here is an 
 instance where, owing to a strong sense of duty to 
 the world, the barriers have been taken down, the 
 shades have been drawn, the faces are seen by the 
 firelight, and the words reach us through the open 
 windows ; and when I see what delicate and modest 
 spirits dwell within, I honor them for this public 
 confidence, and cannot withhold my thanks that 
 * Memorials of a Quiet Life. Strahan & Co., London. 
 
Viii PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 this great and almost unexampled kindness has 
 been shown, and the cherished riches of a home 
 been given to a nation. And the reader who is 
 gratified with these pages may wish to turn from 
 them to the larger English work, about three 
 times the size of this, where the life is more fully 
 unfolded, and its minuter features more amply 
 delineated. I have tried to keep the spirit of the 
 whole unharmed, and it has been a service requiring 
 all my care and my best judgment to select the con- 
 tents of this book, and I cannot rest content with- 
 out the hope that it may prompt all its readers to 
 have recourse to the more extended Memorials. 
 
 Though the chief interest of this book, aside from 
 the light which it throws upon the lives of Julius 
 and Augustus Hare, centres in the experiences of a 
 woman, Maria Leycester, the wife of Augustus, yet 
 three other women take so leading a part in it that 
 I cannot quite pass them by. Catharine Leycester, 
 afterwards the wife of Edward Stanley, Bishop of 
 Norwich, and mother of Dean Stanley ; Lucy A. 
 Stanley, sister of the bishop and wife of Marcus 
 Hare ; and Esther Maurice, sister of Frederick D. 
 Maurice, and wife of Julius Hare, are in the closest 
 relations with Maria Hare, who outlived them all. 
 In the truest and most supporting friendship these 
 women lived, and this book is the brief record of 
 their life. High-born and high-bred, yet without a 
 
PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. IX 
 
 particle of that taint which often rests upon those 
 whose passport to our recognition lies in their 
 blood ; devout and pious through and through, yet 
 not by a word or an attitude suggesting that high- 
 shouldered religion which is brought to mind by 
 the names of some godly women, these four sisters 
 walk through the spaces of these records, still, 
 serene, and radiant. If I am enthusiastic in speak- 
 ing of them, the reader must bear with me for a 
 little, for he will share the enthusiasm when he 
 closes the book. 
 
 William L. Gage. 
 Hartford, Sept 2, 1873. 
 
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. 
 
 ONG ago, in the first months of her widow- 
 *-"' hood, these Memorials were begun by my 
 dearest mother, as a Memoir of her husband, and 
 of their common life at Alton. Many old friends 
 of the family then gladly lent their assistance, and 
 came forward with letters and journals which they 
 offered for her use. But in her weak health she 
 was unable to bear the strain of a work so full of 
 conflicting excitements of pleasure and pain, and, 
 after a long effort, she was reluctantly compelled 
 to lay it aside. 
 
 Many years after, when, upon the death of her 
 sister-in-law, Mrs. Julius Hare, the last link was 
 broken with another portion of her sacred past, 
 and when the remembrance of all that Hurstmon- 
 ceaux Rectory had been seemed likely to perish 
 with the loving circle of those who had shared its 
 joys and sorrows, my mother again took up the 
 pen she had so long laid aside, and wished to 
 continue her work as a Memorial of the Two 
 Brothers, Augustus and Julius Hare, who were 
 
PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. XI 
 
 the authors of the " Guesses at Truth." But 
 age and infirmity were already pressing upon her, 
 and she soon became unable to do more than ar- 
 range the materials in her hands, and add notes 
 for my guidance as to the form and manner in 
 which she wished them to be applied. 
 
 In the last two years of her life she yielded to 
 my earnest wish that in carrying on her work 
 if I survived her I might make her who had 
 been the sunshine of my own life the central figure 
 in the picture. And she then consented to employ 
 the short interval through which she was still 
 spared to bless us, in writing down or dictating 
 many fragments concerning those with whom her 
 earlier life was passed, and who had long since 
 joined the unseen "cloud of witnesses." 
 
 My mother had always tried to make the simple 
 experience of her own quiet life as useful to others 
 as it might be, and many who came to visit her 
 had found in her gentle counsel that help and 
 comfort which many books and much learning had 
 failed to inspire. Her own heart was always so 
 filled with thankfulness for the many mercies and 
 blessings of her long life, so grateful to the Power 
 which had upheld, guided, and comforted her, that 
 she was ever filled with an earnest yearning to 
 lead others to establish themselves on the same 
 Rock ; and whenever she felt that the story of 
 God's dealings in her own life could lead others 
 to a simpler faith and more entire trust in Him, 
 she never allowed any self-seeking reticence to in- 
 
Xll PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. 
 
 terfere with this instrumentality. " If I might only 
 be a bridge upon which any Christian might pass 
 over the chasm of doubt and become altogether be- 
 lieving," was her constant feeling, and " Oh, that 
 my past life, which has been so wonderfully blest 
 by God, might be made useful for his service and 
 lead others to more entire trust in Him." And 
 in this feeling, when she was passing away from 
 me, she permitted me, if I thought it could be made 
 useful for others, to uplift the veil of her home life, 
 and allow others to look in upon her private thoughts 
 and meditations, and so endeavor to make them in 
 some degree sharers in the blessing her dear life 
 has been to me. 
 
 My mother's existence was so bound up with 
 that of the immediate circle of her beloved ones, 
 especially with that of her husband, her sister, her 
 brother-in-law, Julius, and her two sisters-in-law, 
 Lucy and Esther Hare, that the story of her life 
 becomes of necessity that of their lives also, and 
 this I have tried to tell in no words of my own, 
 but in such selections from their common letters 
 and journals as may give the truest picture of what 
 they were. 
 
 It has been rightly observed that no real interest 
 can be derived from a memoir which tells less than 
 " the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the 
 truth ; " and thus while in collecting the frag- 
 ments which remain from the lives of my loved 
 and lost ones, I am chiefly urged by the desire of 
 making others feel the influence of the sunshine 
 
Preface to the English edition. xiii 
 
 of love which has lighted up my past life I have 
 striven to make my story no mere eulogy of those 
 of whom I have written, but to give such traits of 
 their living, acting reality as shall present a true 
 portrait to the reader's mind. 
 
 " They are all gone into the world of light ! 
 
 And I alone sit lingering here ; 
 Their very memory is fair and bright, 
 And my sad thoughts doth clear. 
 
 " I see them walking in an air of glory, 
 
 Whose light doth trample on my days ; 
 My days which are at best but dull and hoary, 
 Mere glimmerings and decays. 
 
 " O holy hope, and high humility, 
 
 High as the heavens above J 
 These are your walks, and you have show'd them me 
 To kindle my cold love." 
 
 A. J. C. Hare. 
 
 HOLMHURST, AugUSt, 1872. 
 
I. 
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 
 
 "The true Past departs not, nothing that was worthy in 
 the Past departs ; no Truth or Goodness realized by man 
 ever dies, or can die ; but all is still here, and, recognized 
 or not, lives and works through endless changes." Car- 
 LYLE's Essays. 
 
 ESS than four miles from" the Sussex coast, 
 -*- * at the point where the huge remains of the 
 Roman Anderida break the otherwise monotonous 
 sea-line, but divided from the sea by the flat marsh 
 meadow-lands known as Pevensey Level, stand the 
 ruins of Hurstmonceaux Castle. Once, before the 
 Level was reclaimed, the sea itself must have rolled 
 in almost as far as the ancient manor-house which 
 preceded the castle upon the same site ; and the 
 plain is still wholly uninhabited, except by one or 
 two farmers, who watch over the immense herds of 
 cattle which pasture there, and who live in small 
 houses amid solitary tufts of trees, on slight rising- 
 grounds, which were once islands, and whose names 
 still show their origin, in the ancient termination 
 of ey, or island, as in Pevensey, Horsey, Langney. 
 From the churchyard above the castle, the view is 
 very strange, looking down upon the green, pathless 
 flat, into the confines of which no one ever wanders 
 
 I A 
 
2 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 except the cowherds, or those who cross to Peven- 
 sey by the distant highroad. The church and castle 
 are literally the last buildings on the edge of a 
 desert. 
 
 The castle is still most grand and stately in its 
 premature decay ; nothing can be more picturesque 
 than its huge front of red brick, grown gray here 
 and there with lichens and weather-stains, than its 
 arched gateway and boldly projecting machicola- 
 tions, or the flowing folds of ivy with which it is 
 overhung. Though only built in the reign of Henry 
 VI., it is said to have been the earliest large brick 
 building in England, after the time of Richard II., 
 when De la Pole's house was built of brick at King- 
 ston-on-Hull ; and it is considered a most valuable 
 specimen of the transition of domestic building from 
 a fortress to a manor-house. The front is pierced 
 with loop-holes for crossbows, and oeillets for the 
 discharge of matchlock guns, which are relics of 
 the former intention, while the large windows of 
 the dwelling-rooms, and more especially the noble 
 oriel known as " the Ladies' Bower," are witnesses 
 to the latter. Bishop Littleton,* writing in 1757, 
 states his opinion that Hurstmonceaux was at that 
 time the largest inhabited house in England belong- 
 ing to any subject, its rival, Audley End, having 
 been then partially destroyed. 
 
 Unfortunately the castle is built in a damp 
 hollow, and, as Horace Walpole observes,! "for 
 
 * Archaeologia, vol. ii. p. 147. 
 
 t Walpole's Letters, edit. 1837, vol. i. p. 176. 
 
THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 3 
 
 convenience of water to the moat, it sees nothing 
 at all." All the present surroundings of the build- 
 ing are in melancholy harmony with its condition. 
 
 The name Hurstmonceaux is a combination of 
 the Saxon word " hurst," meaning a wood, and 
 " Monceaux," the title of one of its lords, who came 
 over with the Conqueror.* The family of Mon- 
 ceaux built the early manor-house, which existed 
 long before the castle, and was coeval with the 
 foundation of the church on the adjoining hill. 
 
 One of the first interests at Hurstmonceaux had 
 been found in the preparation of the sunniest and 
 pleasantest room in the house for the reception of 
 Lady Jones during her long annual visit a room 
 which is called " Lady Jones's Chamber " to this 
 day. Thither she came for three or four months 
 every summer, bringing the little Augustus to his 
 brothers, when they used to play in the gardens of 
 the " Place," or ramble about in the castle ruins or 
 that old deer-park. Even as a child Augustus was 
 of a much gentler disposition than his brothers, and 
 more unselfish. If any thing was given to him, his 
 only pleasure in possession seemed to be that he 
 had it to give to some one else, and " his conversa- 
 tion was not like a child's, he would admire the 
 works of God in every tree and weed." " On one 
 occasion, when very little, he told his aunt a lie. It 
 happened on a day when Lord Spencer and Lord 
 Teignmouth were coming to dine with her ; she 
 had intended that Augustus should dine with them, 
 
 * Sussex Archseol., vol. iv. p. 128. 
 
4 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and he was greatly delighted at the prospect of it, 
 but in consequence of what he had done, she ordered 
 him to stay in his room and have nothing but bread 
 and water. His nurse, who was greatly devoted to 
 him, was not able to go to him till night, when she 
 took him some strawberries, the first of the year, 
 with which at first he was much pleased, but then 
 asked if his aunt had sent them, and on being told 
 ' no,' could not be prevailed on to touch them, say- 
 ing that she had thought him too wicked to have 
 any thing that was good." " Once when he was 
 playing with a little boy, the son of the Duchess of 
 Devonshire, and they could not keep a little sledge, 
 with tin soldiers in it, steady, he went and fetched 
 a silver crucifix and beads given to him by his Italian 
 nurse, and put it into the sledge, saying, 4 Here is 
 something that will manage this and every thing else 
 in the world.' " " After a long illness, he expressed 
 his gratitude and thanks in such a manner to those 
 who had been kind to him, that he was more loved 
 than ever." * 
 
 Around Hurstmonceaux Place the country, which 
 is so bare near the castle, becomes luxuriantly rich 
 and wooded. The house is large, forming a massy 
 square with projecting semi-circular bows at the 
 Gorners, the appearance of which (due to Wyatt) 
 certainly produces a very ugly effect outside, but is 
 exceedingly comfortable within. Mr. Wilberforce, 
 who rented it in 1810, thus describes it: 
 
 * These anecdotes were told forty years after by Lady Jones's 
 maid Hickman, then Mrs. Parker. 
 
THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 5 
 
 " I am in a comer of Sussex, in an excellent house, 
 and a place almost as pretty as the neighborhood of 
 the sea ever is. There is a fine old castle here, built in 
 Henry VI.'s time, but in complete preservation till 
 some twenty years ago, and, though this is a very good 
 private gentleman's habitation, yet when one sets it 
 against a complete castle, one side of which was two 
 hundred feet long, and which was in the complete cos- 
 tume of the age in which it was reared, it dwindles into 
 as much insignificance as one of the armed knights of 
 the middle ages, fully accoutred, who should be sud- 
 denly transported into the curtailed dimensions of one 
 of the box-lobby lounges of the opera, or even one of 
 the cropped and docked troopers of one of our modern 
 regiments. 
 
 " The castle is in the park ; but, horrendum dictu / it 
 was pulled down, and the bare walls and ivy-mantled 
 towers alone left standing ; the materials being applied 
 to the construction of a new house, which, on the whole, 
 cost twice as much, I understand, as it would have taken 
 to make the castle habitable, for it had fallen a little 
 into arrears. I don't know, however, that we who in- 
 habit the new mansion may not have made a good 
 exchange, by gaining in comfort what is lost in mag- 
 nificence ; for the old building was of such a prodigious 
 extent, that it would have required the contents of 
 almost a whole colliery to keep it warm ; and I think 
 few things more wretched (of the kind, I mean) than 
 living in a house which it is beyond the powers of the 
 fortune to keep in order ; like a great body with a lan- 
 guid circulation, all is cold and comfortless," * 
 
 * Letter to Lord Muncaster. See Wilberforce's "Life and 
 Correspondence," vol. iii. pp. 464, 466. Lond., 
 
II. 
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 
 
 " The great secret of spiritual perfection is expressed in 
 the words of St. Ignatius Loyola, 'Hoc vult Deus.' God 
 wishes me to stand in this post, to fulfil this duty, to suffer 
 this disease, to be afflicted with this calamity, this contempt, 
 this vexation. God wishes this, whatever the world and 
 self-love may dictate, hoc vult Deus. His will is my 
 law." Broadstone of Honor. 
 
 " TONOGRAPHIES are wholesome and nourish- 
 -*-^ ing reading in proportion as they approach the 
 character of autobiography, when they are written 
 by those who loved or were familiar with their 
 subjects, who had an eye for the tokens of in- 
 dividual character, and could pick up the words as 
 they dropped from loving lips." Thus, in middle 
 life, wrote Julius Hare, the younger of the two 
 authors of the " Guesses at Truth," and thus, in 
 following the footprints of his life and that of his 
 brother Augustus, the truest picture is that which 
 can be drawn from their own letters or thoughts, 
 from the recollection of their surviving relations 
 and friends, or from the reminiscences of the poor 
 who loved them in solitary Little Alton amid the 
 Wiltshire Downs, or among the leafy lanes of 
 Hurstmonceaux. 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 7 
 
 The chief influence in the youth of both brothers 
 was that of their aunt, Lady Jones,* whose house 
 was their home, and who generously made herself 
 responsible for their education. Unlike their own 
 mother, of whose gentle loving-kindness her four 
 sons retained an equal recollection, Lady Jones 
 chiefly showed her affection for her nephews by the 
 severity with which she corrected their faults, while 
 for herself she exacted respect rather than love, and 
 had no sympathy with any demonstration of affec- 
 tion. Her nephews, though devoted to her from 
 motives of gratitude, never ventured to be familiar 
 with her, and Augustus especially suffered in after 
 life from the want of mutual confidence which was 
 thus engendered. In society Lady Jones could be 
 exceedingly pleasant and agreeable. Miss Berry, 
 who knew her well, always spoke of her as " that 
 most perfect gentlewoman." She was very quick 
 in her movements, old-fashioned and peculiar in 
 dress, short in person, and she had sharp, pierc- 
 ing eyes. 
 
 Lady Jones sent Augustus Hare to Winchester 
 as a Commoner at the beginning of the short half- 
 year, after the summer holidays of 1804: he was 
 placed at once in the middle division of the Fifth 
 Form. Archdeacon Randall, who followed him 
 to Winchester in October of the same year, thus 
 describes his personal appearance at that time : 
 " Hare was then, as afterwards, tall, thin, and del- 
 icate-looking, and his dress peculiar, varying from 
 
 * Widow of Sir William Jones, the distinguished Orientalist. 
 
8 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 that of other boys, much such as might have 
 been supposed to have had its cut and color se- 
 lected by a lady who, though not an old maid, was 
 a widow, and not much conversant with the habili- 
 ments and habits of boys in general. He was, 
 however, even then an object of general interest 
 in the school." 
 
 In 1806 Julius had been sent to the Charter- 
 house (then under the guidance of Dr. Raine), 
 where he soon made rapid progress. Among 
 his companions there, were Thirlwall and Grote, 
 the future historians of Greece ; Waddingtpn, af- 
 terwards Dean of Durham ; Sir William Norris, 
 and Sir Henry Havelock. The two last especially 
 were united with Julius Hare in a school friendship 
 which lasted through life. Havelock was always 
 called Phloss by the others, a name intended as 
 short for philosopher. During his time at the 
 Charter-house, Julius received constant extra as- 
 sistance in his studies from Francis, his " kindest 
 brother," as he always called him, to whom he sent 
 his verses for inspection before they were shown 
 up. Francis always loved Julius the best of his 
 brothers, though the whole four were united 
 almost to a proverb, " The most brotherly of 
 brothers," Landor used to call them. 
 
 When Augustus Hare went to reside at New 
 College in the Michaelmas term of 18 10, he found 
 himself surrounded by a large circle of his Win- 
 chester friends. Randall had gone up to Trinity, 
 Oxford, the year before, but Blackstone and Stow 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 9 
 
 were with him at New College, and many others, 
 with whom he was less intimate. Hull of Brase- 
 nose and Arnold of Corpus also belonged to the 
 closest circle of his friends. " Friendship," he 
 wrote in one of his note books of this time, "is 
 love without the veil and the flowers." 
 
 The interest which Augustus Hare felt in poli- 
 tics increased during his Oxford life, and, in Octo- 
 ber, 18 1 3, he gave evidence of the sagacity and 
 clear-sightedness with which he had followed Na- 
 poleon in his German campaigns, by a practical 
 joke which he played upon the University, and 
 which rendered him remarkable for years after- 
 wards, in societies where his better and worthier 
 talents would have passed unnoticed. On return- 
 ing one evening from a meeting of the Attic 
 Society he wrote an account of a great battle, 
 and a victory gained over the Crown Prince near 
 the imaginary village of Altendorn, in imitation of 
 a bulletin from Napoleon. This arrived at Oxford 
 the next day by post, enclosed in a cover, to Martin 
 Stow, Fellow of New College, and professing to 
 come from his father's office in London, of which 
 Mr. Eve (in whose name the letter was written) 
 was a clerk. Mr. Eve's letter began by some state- 
 ments about money matters, and proceeded, " I am 
 sorry to say that an account of a great victory over 
 the Crown Prince by Bonaparte has just reached 
 the office, which, as it has arrived too late for in- 
 sertion in the evening papers, I take the liberty of 
 copying for you. There are two dispatches to the 
 Empress ; the first, dated the 12th, merely gives 
 
I.O RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 an account of what we heard before, that Bona- 
 parte, having left Dresden, detached a large army 
 towards Berlin and then retreated on Duben. It 
 concludes thus : ' If the allies follow us, a great 
 battle may be hourly expected.' The second is as 
 follows, dated the 21st, head-quarters at Duben." 
 . . . Then came a long account of the supposititious 
 battle, which concluded : "Thus has the justice of 
 Providence, and the brilliant dispositions of the 
 Emperor, in a moment dissipated those numerous 
 battalions that threatened to carry us across the 
 Rhine and violate the integrity of the Empire. 
 An impartial posterity will rank the Battle of Al- 
 tendorn among the days of Austerlitz, Jena, and 
 Friedland. The head-quarters will to-morrow be 
 removed to Delitsche. The Emperor, notwith- 
 standing his fatigues, continues to enjoy the best 
 health." 
 
 So similar was the style to that of the Usual 
 bulletins, so accurate the geographical details, and 
 so probable the movements described, that all the 
 members of the University who read the fictitious 
 dispatch were completely taken in for more than a 
 day and a half, till the coaches of Monday bringing 
 down the morning papers dispelled the illusion. 
 Even then, and long afterwards, those who had 
 eagerly studied the fictitious dispatch, and the 
 geography of the imaginary movements, found it 
 difficult to separate the story of the victory at 
 Altendorn from that of the real history of the 
 campaign.* 
 
 * Contributed by the Rev. F. Blackstone. 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. II 
 
 Another practical joke which Augustus Hare 
 assisted in playing upon the University was at the 
 time when Madame de Stael was at the height of 
 her celebrity. It was announced "that she was in 
 England, and was about to visit Oxford, where she 
 had an undergraduate friend. For a few weeks the 
 undergraduate who was to be so highly honored 
 became an object of universal interest. At length 
 it was noised abroad that the great lady had ar- 
 rived, and under the extraordinary circumstances, 
 and to meet so illustrious a guest, the undergrad- 
 uate ventured to invite several of the heads of 
 houses, and even the Vice-Chancellor himself, to 
 meet her at breakfast. The party assembled, 
 Madame de Stael was there, and so charmed every- 
 body by her grace, wit, and brilliancy, that they 
 all went away feeling that they had found her 
 even more than they anticipated. It was not till 
 many weeks after that it was discovered that she 
 had never been in Oxford at all, and that she had 
 been represented by a clever undergraduate, who 
 had resided for many years in France ! * 
 
 It was during the summer of . 1813 that the re- 
 pugnance which Augustus had always felt for taking 
 orders became so strong that he ventured to risk 
 the anger of Lady Jones by its avowal. Knowing 
 how strongly her wishes were fixed upon this sub- 
 ject, both from a real desire for his future useful- 
 ness in the Church, and from the natural wish that 
 he should succeed to the rich family living of 
 
 * Rev. F. Blackstone's "Reminiscences." 
 
12 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Hurstmonceaux, he greatly dreaded the effect 
 which his decision would have upon her. During 
 a visit which he paid in the summer to his cousins 
 the Hebers,* he consulted them as to how he could 
 best break the disappointment to his aunt, and the 
 result was that Reginald Heber himself undertook 
 to write to Lady Jones upon the subject. 
 
 In 1817 Lady Jones gave Augustus X150 to 
 spend in travelling on the Continent, and he left 
 England with his brother Francis on the 29th of 
 July. The following extracts are from his foreign 
 letters : 
 Augustus to Julius Hare. 
 
 "August, 18 1 7. Coleridge ought to have written a 
 poem on the falls of Schaffhausen, as a companion for 
 his hymn on Mont Blanc." 
 
 " Oct. 27. I am quite delighted with the people of 
 Bologna. They all seemed so glad to see my brother 
 again. Mezzofanti especially, who was formerly one of 
 his thousand and one instructors, and who is now cele- 
 brated as the greatest linguist in the world, being perfect 
 master of thirty languages, besides being more or less 
 acquainted with twenty others, could hardly satisfy him- 
 self with looking at his old pupil, who, he had heard from 
 Fazakerley, had turned out a great Grecian. Then he 
 alluded, with looks of gratitude, to my brother's great 
 kindness to him in a dangerous illness, then talked to 
 me a little, then began rejoicing over Francis and his 
 Greek again." 
 
 * Reginald Heber had married (April, 1809) Amelia Shipley, 
 youngest daughter of the Dean of St. Asaph. 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 13 
 
 " People say that St. Peter's looks larger every time 
 they see it. It does more. It seems to grow larger 
 while the eye is fixed on it, even from the very doors ; 
 and then expands, as you go forward, almost like our 
 idea of God. . . . On entering St. Peter's my first im- 
 pulse was to throw myself on my knees ; and but for the 
 fear of being observed by my companions, I must have 
 bowed my face to the ground and kissed the pavement. 
 I moved slowly up the nave, oppressed by my own little- 
 ness ; and when at last I reached the brazen canopy, and 
 my spirit sank within me beneath the sublimity of the 
 dome, I felt that, as the ancient Romans could not con- 
 demn Manlius within sight of the Capitol, so it would be 
 impossible for an Italian of the present day to renounce 
 popery under the dome of St. Peter's." 
 
 Lady Jones continued to press upon Augustus 
 Hare her desire of his taking orders. On May 4 t 
 18 1 8, he wrote to her from New College : 
 
 " I ought to be one of the happiest persons in exist- 
 ence : so many delights are crowding round me in all 
 shapes and sizes. The weather, with all its spring 
 accompaniments of air, sunshine, verdure, and singing 
 birds, has been here so perfect as to make Blackstone 
 cry out .a hundred times a day that for such days he 
 believes there is no place like England. Then we have 
 had Reginald Heber here full of spirits at the idea of 
 becoming a father. He came to preach, and did give us 
 two such sermons one on ' To die is gain,' showing that 
 to make this possible required an Atonement, the other 
 upon the choice of principled friends that, I believe, 
 if he were to settle here and become a regular preacher, 
 he would bring churchgoing, and perhaps religion itself, 
 
14 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 into practice. . . . And now after all these pleasant sub- 
 jects to a less agreeable one. I am afraid you are quite 
 right in suspecting that Trinity Sunday and its ap- 
 proach have made much less impression on me than 
 they ought. My southern expedition was certainly of 
 use to me in opening my eyes and ears to sights and 
 sounds in nature. But alas ! this good is just at present 
 counterbalanced by the indisposition it has produced in 
 me to give up my time and thoughts to the abstruse study 
 of my profession. That it is my profession I know well, 
 and that it is under my circumstances of situation the 
 best employment to which I can betake myself. But 
 an employment in which one engages merely from con- 
 siderations of prudence and duty, without feeling an in- 
 terest in the occupations which it involves, is somewhat 
 irksome, and one does not without an effort succeed in 
 bringing the mind to dwell on it. I fear all this would 
 not be pleasing to you, and I feel that I have nothing to 
 urge that can make it so ; the cause, however, I hope, 
 will ere long be over, and then I trust all things will go 
 on smoothly as ever." 
 
 Yet the high estimation in which Augustus 
 Hare already held the clerical office may be seen 
 from the following, written to his friend Frederick 
 Blackstone, upon his ordination : 
 
 11 Dec. 18, 1818. I am not sorry for a necessity for 
 writing, as it ensures the expression of my deep sympathy 
 in the sacred character which you are on the point of 
 assuming. You are about to become a teacher in our 
 new Israel ; and the titles of ' watchman ' and ' father 
 of souls,' high as they are, will from henceforth be yours. 
 Happy ! thrice happy ! the person by whom their full 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 1 5 
 
 dignity is felt. What a freedom from the thralls of the 
 world and the flesh, what a piercing insight into the 
 true nature of things ; how large a share of the wisdom 
 that is from above must be possessed by such a man ! 
 To me it is a source of much real joy, that you, my much- 
 tried friend, who are entering into Christ's ministry, 
 are blest, I will not say with such a perfect sense of its 
 glories as I have been figuring to myself, but certainly 
 with the fittest dispositions for in time arriving at it. 
 With perhaps not fewer surface faults than many of my 
 acquaintance, I can yet with truth say, that in sincere 
 straightforward singleness of heart, I believe it would 
 be difficult to go beyond you. . . . Certainly the Church 
 is the sphere for you. In the service of a Creator and 
 Redeemer, your zeal will enjoy the amplest and fairest 
 scope ; while in the spirituality of your future objects, 
 whatever of earth still clings around you must in time 
 find a corrective. Only in striving to be perfect do not 
 be betrayed into timidity. Our scrupulousness, taken in 
 its extreme, consists neither with Christianity nor with 
 faith, for it degrades the Deity into a taskmaster. Plans 
 of life and the relations of duty must be once examined, 
 and afterwards acted on. 'Quod putavi, putavi,' was 
 Latimer's rule at the stake, and must to a certain degree 
 be the principle of all who are not willing to spend life 
 in questioning. 
 
 "And now Adieu in the literal sense of the word. 
 And may He, the Being, to whom you are thus commit- 
 ted, the Father and Friend of all, instruct you in the 
 truth, fill you with the spirit, confirm you in love, 
 strengthen you in goodness, and make you the minister 
 of life, even of life eternal, to all those over whom you 
 may be set, in the name and through the authority of the 
 Lord Jesus. Amen." 
 
l6 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 When Julius Hare went up to Trinity, he had 
 already earned a reputation both as a scholar and 
 mathematician. Old Charter-house companions 
 brought with them startling stories of his school 
 prowess, and his shelves were conspicuously laden 
 with his school prizes. Thus he was eagerly wel- 
 comed by all the best set of men in his college, 
 all those whose pursuit and aim was the same as 
 his own. Sedgewick, already a college tutor, made 
 a friend of the freshman ; Starr, Whewell, Wors- 
 ley, and Kenelm Digby were his intimate compan- 
 ions the recipients of his " Guesses at Truth " 
 the witnesses of his enthusiastic championship or 
 furious denunciations, according as he was biassed 
 by the feelings of the moment ; for then, as after- 
 wards, Julius never loved or hated by halves. It 
 was perhaps this very openness and demonstrative- 
 ness of character which rendered him so peculiarly 
 interesting to his acquaintances, and which made 
 it impossible for him to pass unnoticed. He was 
 often loved, frequently detested, but never ignored. 
 The knowledge of English literature which he 
 brought with him to Cambridge was extraordi- 
 nary, but his knowledge of German literature was 
 hitherto unknown in an English undergraduate. 
 This had been partly the result of his residence 
 as a child with his dying mother at Weimar. The 
 interest which was then aroused by the conversa- 
 tion of Goethe and Schiller, of the good Duchess 
 of Weimar, and of other illustrious persons who 
 were wont to meet in the honored sick-chamber, 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. If 
 
 had never passed away. Schiller died while he 
 was at Weimar, and his childish ambition and en- 
 thusiasm were aroused by seeing this great loss 
 received as a national calamity by his mourning 
 fellow-countrymen. The great poets and philoso- 
 phers of Germany were thus no mere names to him, 
 but at ten years old they were grand living realities, 
 and their tales were the story-books, their poems 
 the inspiration, of his childhood. When he returned 
 to England, his father's and his brothers' libraries 
 kept open for him a vast field of discovery in the 
 wealth of German authors, which few boys would 
 have access to, and indeed few would appreciate. 
 Lady Jones in vain remonstrated against what she 
 considered as the dangers which might result from 
 such license in reading for one so young, but Mr. 
 Hare-Naylor was accustomed to the freedom of 
 opinion which the mother of his four sons had 
 always encouraged, and desired that all possible 
 sources of information might be left open to his 
 children. 
 
 When Julius went up to Cambridge, he gave 
 himself up with passionate delight to his classical 
 studies. Of mathematics he would now learn no 
 more than was necessary, though, according to the 
 system which then prevailed in the University, he 
 thus, considerably to his father's annoyance, shut 
 himself out from competing for the chancellor's 
 medal. In his classical studies he was privately 
 assisted by his brother Francis, who had boundless 
 faith in the talents of Julius, and was never weary 
 
1 8 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of writing essays for his assistance and reference. 
 His success in college examinations led to his elec- 
 tion to a Trinity Fellowship in October, 1818. 
 
 The following winter was spent by Julius Hare 
 in Italy with his brother Francis, who had re- 
 mained in the south since Augustus left him in 
 the preceding spring. From this time dates his 
 great love and veneration for Raphael. 
 
 " Where to find a parallel for Raphael in the modern 
 world I know not. Sophocles, among poets, most resem- 
 bles him. In knowledge of the diversities of human 
 character, he comes nearer than any other painter to 
 him, who is unapproached and unapproachable, Shakes- 
 peare ; and yet two worlds, that of Honor and that of 
 Passion, separate them. In exquisiteness of art, Goethe 
 might be compared to him. But neither he nor Shakes- 
 peare has Raphael's deep Christian feeling. But then 
 there is such a peculiar glow and flush of beauty in his 
 works : whithersoever he comes, he sheds beauty from his 
 wings. Why did he die so early? Because morning 
 cannot last till noon, nor spring through summer." # 
 
 " In intellectual as in active life, the still small voice 
 wherein speaks the true genius, * that peculiar sway of 
 nature, which (as Milton saith) also is God's working,' 
 will usually be preceded by the strong wind and the earth- 
 quake and the fire, which may rend the mountain and 
 break the rocks in pieces, but in which there is nothing 
 that abideth. The poet will at first try force and en- 
 deavor to take Beauty by storm j but if he would succeed, 
 he must assure himself that she consents not to be won 
 until she has been wooed by duteous and loyal service. 
 
 * Guesses at Truth. First Series. 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. IQ 
 
 This appears a simple and easy lesson ; yet few among 
 the sons of men have duly apprehended it, except tardily 
 on compulsion. There may indeed have been others, 
 even in modern times, who have felt and known these 
 truths instinctively from their childhood upwards, but 
 I cannot name any besides Raphael. Of him it may 
 truly be said that Beauty was his nurse, that he had sucked 
 at her breast, and been dandled in her arms, and been 
 covered with her kisses, until all her features were indel- 
 ibly written on his mind, and her image became amalga- 
 mated, and, as it were, one with its essence. From his 
 earliest sketch unto his last great work, whatever came 
 from his pencil appears, so to say, to have been steeped 
 in beauty: in his imagination, as in the bright atmos- 
 phere of a summer day, every object was arrayed in a 
 loveliness at once its own and his : for all he gives is so 
 genuine and appropriate, it is impossible to distinguish 
 what is native from what is adventitious. But Raphael 
 had the good fortune to be born earlier in the world's 
 great year, when the sun might safely rise without a 
 cloud: in these autumnal times one can hardly hope 
 for a fine day, unless it be ushered in by a misty 
 morning." * 
 
 But, together with the growth of his love for 
 Raphael, Julius also became converted to a belief 
 in the general superiority of sculpture over paint- 
 ing. Soon afterwards Augustus, writing to Fred- 
 erick Blackstone, says : 
 
 " Julius, who was nearly as sceptical as yourself about 
 sculpture, y<?// while he was standing among the Townley 
 marbles that there was no comparison. The effect of 
 
 * Guesses at Truth. Second Series. 
 
20 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the sculpture was so much stronger than that which had 
 been produced by the Raphaels, Leonardos, and Guidos, 
 which had been exhibited. He was so far hurried away 
 by his enthusiasm as to kiss an arm of one of the female 
 figures, to the great astonishment of the unimaginative 
 beholders, who, perhaps, would not one of them have 
 given a half-penny to kiss the finest arm in the 
 world. ' Mais cela tient au morale, ou plutot a la Philo- 
 sophic' " 
 
 During these years of youth also grew in the 
 heart of Julius that great love with which he 
 always afterwards regarded " the honored name of 
 William Wordsworth," he being one of the first of 
 a circle of young men who upheld the reputation of 
 the new poet at a time when he was greatly ridi- 
 culed, and when the influence of Scott and Byron 
 was supreme. 
 
 Lady Jones characteristically wrote to him at 
 this time her wish that all his " German boeks were 
 burnt." He replied : 
 
 "an., 1820. As for my German books, I hope from 
 my heart that the day will never arrive when I shall be 
 induced to burn them, for I am convinced that I never 
 shall do so, unless I have first become a base slave of 
 Mammon, and a mere vile lump of selfishness. I shall 
 never be able to repay a hundredth part of the obligation 
 I am under to them, even though I were to shed every 
 drop of my blood in defence of their liberties. For to 
 them I owe the best of all my knowledge, and if they 
 have not purified my heart, the fault is my own. Above 
 all, to them I owe my ability to believe in Christianity 
 with a much more implicit and intelligent faith than I 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 21 
 
 otherwise should have been able to have done ; for with- 
 out them I should only have saved myself from dreary 
 suspicions, by a refusal to allow my heart to follow 
 my head, and by a self-willed determination to believe 
 whether my reason approved of my belief or not. The 
 question has so often been a subject of discussion that 
 I have determined, once for all, to state my reasons for 
 remaining firm in my opinion." 
 
 To his extensive acquaintance with German 
 thought and German thinkers is due the German 
 tone which pervades many of the " Guesses at 
 Truth," furnished by Julius to the volumes which 
 appeared in 1827. "Its authors, it has been said, 
 suppose truth to be mere guesswork. An observa- 
 tion more curiously inapplicable to the spirit and 
 character of both brothers was certainly never haz- 
 arded. Because they were so confident that truth 
 is fixed and eternal, thafr it is not the creature of 
 man's notions and speculations that a man must 
 seek for it as hid treasure, not refer it to his own 
 narrow rules of judgment, therefore they thought 
 it an exercise useful in itself, certain of reward, to 
 trace the vestiges of it in every direction, to grasp 
 even the skirts of its garment, and if they missed it, 
 still to testify that it was ready to declare itself to 
 more faithful inquiries. They believed that there 
 was a ladder set up on earth and reaching to heaven ; 
 that the voice of God may be heard in the calm 
 midnight, nay, even in the open day, by those who 
 are on the lowest step of this ladder, who have only 
 a bed of earth, with a stone for their pillow, if they 
 
22 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 will reverently apply their ears to listen, and ask to 
 have it distinguished from the noises of which the 
 air is full, and which try to drown or mock it. These 
 Guesses have cherished this conviction in the hearts 
 of many who needed it, and who would have suffered 
 infinite loss if they had been without it. And they 
 have led not a few to look further still ; to ask 
 whether there is not a Centre of all God's revela- 
 tions, one in whom He created the world, one in 
 whom He has enlightened men, one in whom He 
 has made himself perfectly known. The words, ' I 
 am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life,' have 
 come to them as at once the encouragement and 
 the result of their guesses. If this result is not 
 what our doctors of the law, our masters in Israel 
 desire, it may, nevertheless, be one which He does 
 not disapprove, who in every part of nature, and in 
 every human relation, found parables of his king- 
 dom, and openings through which his disciples 
 might have glimpses of it." * 
 
 Julius's career as a lawyer was of short duration, 
 and most gladly did he welcome the change when, 
 in 1822, his friend Whewell, already a tutor of 
 Trinity, conveyed to him the offer of a classical 
 tutorship in his own college. He at once returned 
 to Cambridge and took possession of delightful 
 rooms in the tower at the back of Trinity, looking 
 down its beautiful lime avenue, rooms where he 
 collected the nucleus of that library which after- 
 wards rendered his country home so remarkable 
 * Preface to Hare's Charges. 1843-46. 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 23 
 
 amongst English rectories, and where he resided 
 throughout the next ten years, to which he owed, 
 as he himself described it, " the building up of his 
 mind." 
 
 At Cambridge Julius Hare re-united in a great 
 measure the large circle of friends amid whom his 
 undergraduate life had been passed, Sedgewick, 
 Whewell, Thirlwall, Worsley (whom he was wont 
 to call " the brother of his heart "), and, for a time, 
 Digby, the author of the " Broadstone of Honor," 
 "that noble manual for gentlemen, that volume" 
 (wrote Julius) " which, had I a son, I would place 
 in his hands, charging him, though such prompting 
 words would be needless, to love it next to his 
 Bible." Among his pupils also were three young 
 men who were among the intimate friends of his 
 later life, John Sterling, Frederick Maurice, and 
 Richard Cavendish. 
 
 The pupils who attended Julius Hare's lectures 
 have a vivid recollection of their interest. " While 
 in form he was adapting himself exactly to the 
 practice of English colleges," wrote one of them, 
 " in spirit he was following the course which a cul- 
 tivated man, thoroughly in earnest to give his pupils 
 the advantage of his cultivation, and not ambitious 
 of displaying himself, would fall into." "When 
 we were reading the Gorgias of Plato, his anxiety 
 seemed to be that Plato should explain himself to 
 us, and should help to explain us to ourselves. 
 Whatever he could do to further this end by bring- 
 ing his reading and scholarship to bear upon the 
 
24 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 illustration of the text, by throwing out hints as to 
 the course the dialogue was taking, by exhibiting 
 his own fervent interest in Plato, and his belief of 
 the high purpose he was aiming at, he did. But to 
 give us second-hand reports, though they were ever 
 so excellent, to save us the trouble of thinking 
 to supply us with a moral, instead of showing us 
 how we might find it, not only in the book, but 
 in our own hearts, this was clearly not his in- 
 tention." * 
 
 Amid his collegiate duties, Julius Hare found 
 time to unite with his friend Thirlwall in the vast 
 labor of translating Niebuhr s " History of Rome," 
 and editing it with fresh notes from his own read- 
 ing. This work brought down upon its author, 
 and by implication upon its translators, a charge of 
 scepticism as to secular history which would tend 
 to encourage a similar feeling in regard to sacred 
 history. This led Julius to publish (1829) his 
 " Vindication of Niebuhr," the first of a long series 
 of vindications which in later life he used playfully 
 to say he should one day collect and publish in one 
 volume, under the title of " Vindiciae Harianae," or 
 the " Hare with many Friends." " Any attack on 
 Luther, Niebuhr, Bunsen, Coleridge, would have 
 called forth his sword from its scabbard under 
 much less provocation than was actually given in 
 the respective cases. Indeed, in some of these 
 instances we almost wonder at the amount of 
 energy and learning spent against charges which 
 
 * Preface to Hare's Charges. 1856. 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 2$ 
 
 hardly seemed sufficient, either in quality or quan- 
 tity, to need any refutation at all. But even when 
 the object of attack was his dearest friend, it was 
 an outraged sense not so much of private partiality 
 as of public justice that fired the train ; and in one 
 remarkable instance in his later life (that of the 
 Hampden controversy) he came forward in behalf 
 of an entire stranger." 
 
 " The scholarship of Julius Hare was of a kind 
 which penetrated the whole frame of his mind. Like 
 all English scholarships, it was built upon a classical 
 basis, and the effect of this, enlarged as it was by 
 the widest view of the ancient writers, never left 
 him. Greece and Rome were always present to 
 his mind ; and when he afterwards endeavored to 
 arouse the clergy of Sussex by the strains of Alcaeus, 
 it was only one instance out of many in which his 
 deep delight in classical antiquity found its vent in 
 the common occasions of life. To the older school 
 of English elegant scholarship he hardly belonged, 
 but in a profound and philosophical knowledge of 
 the learned languages he was probably second to 
 none, even in that brilliant age of his Cambridge 
 contemporaries ; and he was one of the first ex- 
 amples that England has seen, not merely of a 
 scholar, but of a ' philologer/ of one who studied 
 language not by isolated rules but by general laws. 
 
 " This precision of scholarship showed itself in a 
 form which is perhaps, to many, one of the chief 
 associations connected with his name. Almost any 
 one who has ever heard of Julius Hare's writings 
 
26 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 has heard of his strange spelling. Every one 
 knows that his sermons were not ' preached ' like 
 those of ordinary mortals, but ' preacht ; ' that his 
 books were not ' published/ but ' publisht.' It is 
 but due to his memory to remind our readers that 
 it was not, as most people suppose, an arbitrary 
 fancy, but a deliberate conviction, founded on un- 
 doubted facts in the English language, which dic- 
 tated his deviation from ordinary practice. His 
 own statement of his principle is contained in a 
 valuable and interesting essay on the subject in 
 the Philological Museum ; and it was maintained in 
 the first instance not only by himself, but by his two 
 illustrious colleagues at Cambridge. But Bishop 
 Thirlwall openly abandoned it in his history of 
 Greece, and has never since recurred to it ; and 
 Dr. Whewell confined it to his occasional efforts 
 in verse. It was characteristic of the man that 
 Hare alone persevered to the end ; whether it 
 were a hymn-book for his parish church or a monu- 
 mental tablet, a German novel or a grave discourse 
 on the highest matters of Church and State, he 
 would never abandon what he considered the true 
 standard of correct scholarship, or countenance the 
 anomalies of popular practice. We may justly 
 smile at the excess to which this pertinacity was 
 carried ; but it was an index of that unwearied dili- 
 gence, of that conscientious stickling for truth 
 which honorably distinguished him amongst his 
 contemporaries ; it was an index also, as we may 
 fairly allow, of that curious disregard for congruity 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 27 
 
 which, more than any other cause, marred his use* 
 fulness in life." 
 
 " The scholarship of Julius Hare was remark- 
 able for its combination with his general learning. 
 Learning as an acquisition is not perhaps uncom- 
 mon ; but as an available possession it is a very 
 rare gift. It is easy to accumulate knowledge ; 
 but it is not easy to digest, to master, to repro- 
 duce it. This, however, was certainly accomplished 
 in his case." * 
 
 As our story will, for many years, be more con- 
 nected with the life of Augustus than with that of 
 Julius Hare, it may be well to look forward here for 
 a few years. 
 
 On Easter Sunday, 1826, Julius was ordained 
 deacon in Wells Cathedral by Bishop Law, and on 
 the following Trinity Sunday was ordained priest, 
 at St. George's, Hanover Square, by Sparke, 
 Bishop of Ely. His first university sermon, after- 
 wards published under the title of the " Children 
 of Light," was preached on Advent Sunday, 1828. 
 This sermon assumed that his hearers were born 
 in light, and that if they walked in darkness, that 
 darkness was caused by the sin which had broken 
 up the even tenor of the true life which was in- 
 tended, and that their true conversion would be 
 simply the restoration of the light, which was the 
 guide of childhood. His next well-known sermon, 
 the " Law of Self-Sacrifice," was preached in Trin- 
 ity Chapel at the Commemoration of 1829, an 
 
 * Quarterly Reviezv, cxciii. 
 
28 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 earnest protest against the selfish theory of re- 
 ligion. It at once announces the opposite law as 
 the one which binds together all things in earth 
 and heaven, as that which affords the only expla- 
 nation of all the great facts of history, of all that 
 has produced any real effect upon mankind in 
 poetry, art, science. Selfishness he traces, indeed, 
 everywhere : but as the disturbing, destructive 
 force ; the enemy of the order of the world, not 
 its principle ; that which the Son of God by His 
 sacrifice came to subvert, because He came to 
 renew and restore all things. Theology is here, 
 as elsewhere, the necessary climax as well as the 
 necessary foundation of all his other thoughts ; he 
 does not want to reconcile them with it ; it is the 
 reconciliation of them. The sermon on " The Sin 
 against the Holy Ghost " is in strict harmony with 
 these, inasmuch as it connects the common daily 
 life of the English student in the nineteenth cen- 
 tury with the principles set forth in Scripture, even 
 with the most awful sentences in it. These are 
 not used to produce a fearful impression upon the 
 nerves, but to keep the conscience alive to its con- 
 tinued peril, as well as to its mighty treasures and 
 responsibilities, to the truth, that all true and 
 righteous deeds, by whomsoever they are enacted, 
 are the work of the Holy Spirit now as in other 
 days.* 
 
 Until these Cambridge sermons were preached, 
 tutors and fellows alike felt sure that no under- 
 
 * See Preface to Hare's Charges, 1843-46. 
 
AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 29 
 
 graduate could be induced to sit through discourses 
 of such prodigious length, yet they were not only 
 listened to with patience, but not more than two 
 days after the preaching of the first sermon, a 
 petition for its publication was sent to Julius Hare, 
 more numerously signed than any that had been 
 known for years. After publication, however, 
 these sermons scarcely met with the success 
 which was anticipated. Many would perhaps have 
 been more impressed by them if they had not 
 taken advantage of their peculiarities, of the 
 quaint expressions they contained, to turn aside ; 
 these seemed to afford a handle to such as were 
 glad of one, to take hold of as a diversion from 
 the serious impression they could not otherwise 
 avoid. 
 
III. 
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 
 
 "La jeunesse devait etre une caisse d'epargne." 
 
 Madame Swetchine, 
 
 " This life which seems so fair, 
 
 Is like a bubble blown up in the air 
 
 By sporting children's breath, 
 
 Who chase it everywhere, 
 And strive who can most motion it bequeath." 
 
 William Drummond, i 585-1649. 
 
 HHHE great interest and pleasure of my mother's * 
 *- early home life came from Hodnet, two miles 
 from her father's rectory, where Reginald Heber 
 held the living. Her first acquaintance with the 
 Hebers began through her constantly walking 
 across the heath from Stoke to the afternoon Sun- 
 day service, to hear him preach. From frequently 
 seeing her at church, the Reginald Hebers began to 
 invite her to pass Sunday with them ; and the inti- 
 macy thus engendered increased till scarcely a day 
 passed, part of which was not spent at Hodnet, 
 Maria Leycester joining the Hebers in their after- 
 
 * The narrative here turns for a time from the Hares to Maria 
 Leycester, who afterwards became the wife of Augustus, and the 
 central figure of this work. Am. Ed. 
 
STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 3 1 
 
 noon rides through the delightful glades of Hawke- 
 stone, and remaining to dinner ; while, in the 
 evenings, Mr. Heber would read aloud, poetry, or 
 Walter Scott's newly published novels, " Waverley," 
 " Guy Mannering," and " Ivanhoe," which, for 
 several years, while their authorship remained a 
 mystery, were generally attributed to Richard 
 Heber, the rector's elder brother. In 1817, Miss 
 Leycester spent her mornings also at Hodnet, 
 where, when she wished to learn German in prep- 
 aration for a foreign tour, Mr. Heber offered to 
 become her instructor. At the same time, he fre- 
 quently wrote songs to suit her music, as he greatly 
 delighted in her playing and singing. His little 
 poem, " I see them on their Winding Way," was 
 written thus in October, 1820. 
 
 Nor was it only by lessons in literature that Regi- 
 nald Heber instructed his pupil. No one could live 
 constantly within the influence of his cheerful active 
 life, devoted, either at home or amongst his parish- 
 ioners, to the good of others, yet with the most 
 entire unostentation, without praying that his man- 
 tle might fall upon them. " In no scene of his life, 
 perhaps," wrote Mr. Blunt, " did his character appear 
 in greater beauty than while he was living here, 
 1 seeing God's blessings spring out of his mother 
 earth, and eating his own bread in peace and pri- 
 vacy.' His talents might have made him proud, 
 but he was humble-minded as a child, eager to 
 call forth the intellectual stores of others, rather 
 than to display his own, arguing without dog- 
 
32 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 matism, and convincing without triumph, equally 
 willing to reason with the wise, or to take a share 
 in the innocent gayeties of a winter's fireside ; for 
 it was no part of his creed that all innocent mirth 
 ought to be banished from the purlieus of a good 
 man's dwelling ; or that he is called upon to abstract 
 himself from the refinements and civilities of life, as 
 if sitting to Teniers for a picture of the Tempta- 
 tions of St. Anthony. The attentions he received 
 might have made him selfish, but his own inclina- 
 tion was ever the last he consulted ; indeed, of all 
 the features in his character, this was, perhaps, the 
 most prominent, that in him self did not seem to 
 be denied, to be mortified, but to be forgotten. His 
 love of letters might have made him an inactive 
 parish priest, but he was daily amongst his par- 
 ishioners, advising them in difficulties, comforting 
 them in distress, kneeling, often to the hazard of 
 his own life, by their sick-beds ; exhorting, encour- 
 aging, reproving as he saw need ; when there was 
 strife, the peacemaker ; when there was want, the 
 cheerful giver. Yet, in all this, there was no 
 parade, no effort, apparently not the smallest con- 
 sciousness that his conduct differed from that of 
 other men, his duty seemed to be his delight, 
 his piety an instinct. Many a good deed done by 
 him in secret only came to light when he had been 
 removed far away, and but for that removal would 
 have been for ever hid ; many an instance of be- 
 nevolent interference when it was least suspected, 
 and of delicate attention towards those whose 
 
STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 33 
 
 humble rank in life is too often thought to exempt 
 their superiors from all need of mingling courtesy 
 with kindness. That he was sometimes deceived 
 in his favorable estimate of mankind, it would be 
 vain to deny ; such a guileless, confiding, unsuspi- 
 cious singleness of heart as his, cannot always be 
 proof against cunning. But if he had not this 
 worldly knowledge, he wanted it perhaps in com- 
 mon with most men of genius and virtue ; the 
 * wisdom of the serpent ' was almost the only wis- 
 dom in which he did not abound." * 
 
 The following extracts from letters give some 
 glimpses into Maria Leycester's home life during 
 these years of her youth : 
 Maria Leycester to Miss Hibbert. 
 
 11 May 24, 1817.^-1 have just spent two delightful 
 days at Hodnet Rectory. Oh, the charms of a rectory 
 inhabited by a Reginald Heber, or an Edward Stanley ! f 
 To be sure, splendor and luxury sink into the ground 
 before such real happiness. ... I do not think I ever 
 before enjoyed the beauties of nature as much as I 
 have done this spring, and you cannot imagine how in- 
 teresting my solitary rides are made by the varieties of 
 light and shade, the lightness and elegance of the 
 newly come-out trees, backed by magnificent black or 
 purple clouds, and the various pretty bits that strike my 
 fancy. I attribute one cause of my increased pleasure 
 to the having learnt to color. A hundred beautifully 
 tinted cottages, or trees, or mossy rocks which I never 
 
 * Quarterly Review, 1827. 
 
 t Her brother-in-law, afterwards Bishop of Norwich, and 
 father of Dean Stanley. 
 
 2* r. 
 
34 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 remarked before, now give me much pleasure, just as I 
 felt before that the knowledge of drawing itself made me 
 find out many picturesque things which my natural taste 
 would not have discovered." 
 
 "June 7, 1817. I have spent a very agreeable 
 week ; but you will not be very much surprised when 
 you learn that two of the days we had the Reginald 
 Hebers here, and the rest I spent at Alderley. I never 
 saw, or rather heard Mr. Reginald Heber so agreeable, 
 though, indeed, I always say this of the last time of 
 seeing him j but, really, his stories are quite inexhaust- 
 ible, the more he tells, the more he seems to have to 
 tell. His brother, Mr. Heber, was here likewise one 
 day, and was very agreeable too ; but not so lovable as 
 Reginald. How happy I am to be able to say I love 
 him ! I may thank Mrs. R. H. for that. I dine with 
 them on Saturday, that I may ride with them in the 
 evening, and in short I see them "continually." 
 
 " Dec. 14, 18 18. My brothers and I have had such a 
 pleasant visit at Hodnet ! there were only Mr. and Mrs. 
 R. Heber, Mr. Heber, and Mr. Augustus Hare there. 
 The latter is the oddest and most agreeable person I 
 have seen for a very long time, very clever and enthu- 
 siastic, but quite unlike other people, which is a relief 
 sometimes, for every-day people are so common in this 
 world. I was very happy in reading some of my German 
 with the dear Reginald, and found myself infinitely ad- 
 vanced since the last time I read with him." 
 
 "March 25, 18 19. There is something in the feel 
 and appearance of a bright sunny spring day which 
 makes one feel pleased with everybody and every thing 
 in spite of one's self. It gives an elastic spring to one's 
 feelings, which is very delightful, and the sun seems to 
 
STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 35 
 
 light upon the bright side of every prospect and recollec- 
 tion, and to leave in oblivion every less pleasing part. 
 I have been spending two whole days with the Reginald 
 Hebers ; he was very, very delightful, and our evenings 
 were most snug and comfortable. Reginald Heber 
 made songs for us as fast as we could sing them." 
 
 The autumn of 1819 was spent by Maria Ley- 
 cester in travelling through Scotland with her 
 brother Edward in a gig, considered a most ad- 
 venturous enterprise for a young lady in those 
 days, seeing Arran, Staffa, and a great part of the 
 Highlands, and paying visits at Blair Athol and 
 Taymouth, at both of which places they fell in with 
 Prince Leopold, for whose recent bereavement 
 great interest was then excited. 
 
 Maria Leycester to Miss Hibbert. 
 
 " Stoke Rectory, Oct. 24. I have not yet told you 
 of the pleasantest part of our tour, our visit to Walter 
 Scott. He lives about three miles from Melrose, and 
 our first day's journey from Edinburgh was to his house. 
 We had a letter to him from Reginald Heber, and Mr. 
 Scott persuaded us to stay three days with him, during 
 which time we had full opportunity of becoming ac- 
 quainted with him. We were the only strangers, and 
 therefore had his conversation all to ourselves, and most 
 highly were we gratified. He is unaffected and simple 
 in his manner to the greatest degree, and at first his 
 countenance only bespeaks good humor; but mention 
 any subject that interests him, and he lights up in an 
 instant into fire and animation. He is a kind of person 
 one could not feel afraid of for a moment. Whatever 
 
3t) RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 subject you- begin is the same to him ; he has something 
 entertaining to tell on every one, and the quickness with 
 which he catches up every thing that is passing, even 
 at the other end of the room, is surprising. His family 
 consists of a very insignificant little wife, a French 
 woman, quite inferior to him, and his daughters, who 
 are fine, sensible, clever girls, quite brought up by him. 
 The eldest, sang Jacobite songs and Border ballads to us 
 with such spirit and enthusiasm that it was delightful, 
 and their love for Scotland makes them quite worthy of 
 it. Their chief delight is in the Border stories and tra- 
 ditions, in which they are very rich. His house is built 
 by himself, and is very odd and picturesque. There is 
 a little armory with painted glass windows, and the walls 
 and chimney-piece covered with antiquities, Claver- 
 house's pistol, Rob Roy's gun and purse, Highland 
 arms, targets, and claymores, quaighs, thumbscrews, 
 trophies from Waterloo, ancient armor, in short, it is 
 the most interesting and curious little room. 
 
 " Then at every step about the house you come to 
 some curious thing. He has got the gate of the Old 
 Tolbooth, and the great keys which have locked up so 
 many victims, and the real tower, removed to his house. 
 But I have no room for more about Walter Scott now, 
 except that we came away quite enchanted with the poet, 
 and still more with the man." 
 
 Maria Leycester's religious impressions became 
 much strengthened about this time by the opening 
 of a correspondence on spiritual subjects with her 
 friend Lucy Stanley, an intercourse which was 
 continued through their whole lives. On January 
 6, 1820, she had first written : 
 
STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 37 
 
 Maria Leycester to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " I cannot tell how much pleasure it gives me to think 
 that you have become interested in that subject, which 
 to those who think seriously about it must be the most 
 interesting that can be found, the comfort, the assist- 
 ance, the support it affords, are so far beyond that 
 which any thing else can give, that, having once found it, 
 I am not afraid you should forsake it. For my own sake, 
 too, I am glad, for I always feel a great reluctance to 
 express to another person feelings which I am not sure 
 that they will perfectly understand ; and I feel, and I 
 daresay you have felt this far more with regard to re- 
 ligion than to any thing else. There is a sacredness 
 about it which prevents one entering upon it except 
 where "it will be entirely entered into, where there 
 can be no mistake about the nature of one's feelings. 
 It is not a feeling which can be explained ; it must be 
 felt, as that which leads one to aspire to an ambition 
 higher far than we can find here, as that which affords 
 a noble and exalted motive for every exertion." . . . 
 
 In December, 1822, the Bishopric of Calcutta 
 was offered to Reginald Heber, with but little hope 
 that he would be willing to sacrifice the comforts 
 and interests of his Shropshire living for a mitre 
 on the banks of the Ganges. He was, however, 
 led to its acceptance by the consciousness of how 
 wide a sphere of usefulness he would reject in its 
 refusal, and almost immediately began to prepare 
 for his departure from Hodnet. Greatly as his 
 approaching loss was felt by many in the neighbor- 
 hood, the blow was incomparably most severe to 
 
38 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Maria Leycester, who for many years had been 
 like a sister to him, and who had derived her chief 
 home-pleasures from his society, and that of Mrs. 
 Heber. 
 
 Maria Leycester's Journal. 
 
 "Feb. 8, 1823. The extreme suffering I felt on first 
 hearing of the intended departure of the Hebers for 
 India has now passed. Those vividly painful feelings 
 seldom continue long in the same form, when the neces- 
 sity for exertion, variety of society, and change of place, 
 call upon the mind for fresh thoughts. But though' the 
 immediate shock is over, and my mind is by time habit- 
 uated to the idea, so that I can now think and write of 
 it calmly, it is no less a source of the deepest sorrow to 
 me. Nor is it merely in the pain of parting with such 
 friends that I shall feel it. It will be in the daily loss 
 I shall experience of kind and affectionate neighbors, of 
 an interest always kept up, of the greatest part of my 
 home enjoyments. 
 
 " I had so little foreseen, at any time, the possibility 
 of this event, that I was totally unprepared for it, and 
 although now it appears quite natural that Reginald, 
 who is so peculiarly fitted for the situation, should wish 
 for it, I could hardly at first believe it to be possible. . . . 
 The remembrance of the last two years rises up before 
 me so much the more endeared from the thought that 
 those happy days will never again return. There is 
 nothing out of my own family which could have made 
 so great a blank in my existence as this will do. For 
 so many years have they been to me as brother and sis- 
 ter, giving to me so much pleasure, so much improve- 
 ment. It will be the breaking up of my thoughts and 
 
STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 39 
 
 habits and affections for years, and scarcely can I bear 
 to think that in a few months those whom I have loved 
 so dearly will be removed from me far into another 
 world, for such does India appear at this distance." 
 
 In the following winter, during visits in the 
 neighborhood of London, Augustus Hare was the 
 only person Miss Leycester had any pleasure in 
 seeing, and she gratefully received his kindness 
 and sympathy. Though he was more reserved 
 and cautious in speaking of the future than he 
 had hitherto been, he talked much of past days, 
 and but to hear and talk of them was sufficient 
 happiness for her. From him she learnt of the 
 safe arrival of the Ganges in India, and of the 
 welfare and well-being of his friend. 
 
IV. 
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 "God writes straight on crooked lines." 
 
 Spanish Proverb. 
 
 "Circumstance, that unspiritual God, was then a most 
 fruitful source of spirituality." Di6by. 
 
 TT was in returning from Scotland in 1818, that 
 * Augustus Hare, while visiting the Hebers at 
 Hodnet, made his first acquaintance with Miss 
 Leycester. He was at Hodnet on her birthday 
 (November 22). On the preceding day the con- 
 versation had turned upon Italy a subj ect which 
 always called forth the full powers of his enthu- 
 siasm and she had playfully asked him to write 
 an ode upon it. In the night hours he wrote, and 
 on the following morning presented her with his 
 Ode to Italy. 
 
 The summer of 18 19 was passed by Augustus 
 Hare at the English lakes. Thence he wrote to 
 his friend Frederick Blackstone : 
 
 " Of the Lakes I will only say that I found Southey 
 more egotistical, less identified with his family, and more 
 reflective than I expected. By the way, I am surprised 
 you should represent him as inimical to discussion, for 
 into one I was betrayed by him unawares, and into another 
 
CHANGES. 41 
 
 he attempted to lead me, challenging and almost pulling 
 me to the field. At first I thought his manner cold, but 
 it gradually thawed, and before we parted he seemed to 
 begin to take considerable interest about me. Words- 
 worth I found much greater in the common concerns of 
 life than I had anticipated. He is as perfect an instance 
 in his way of the connection between genius and kind- 
 heartedness as Mr. Scott is, of whom you know my ad- 
 miration ; and it is interesting to observe two men of 
 great powers, who are so remarkably different in many 
 respects, agreeing and reflecting each other's character 
 in this." 
 
 On November 19, he wrote to Lady Jones : 
 
 "I left Edinburgh by way of Selkirk and Melrose, 
 stopping by the way to see Walter Scott. He lives in a 
 cottage transmogrified by additions into a sort of castle, 
 on the road between these two places. His family con- 
 sists of a silly little Frenchwoman, his wife, two stout 
 lassies of daughters under twenty, the eldest of whom is 
 said to be a very extraordinary person, and a great favor- 
 ite with her father, and an enormous staghound, with 
 three or four other dogs of various kinds as his satellites. 
 Walter Scott himself looks like a very stout, good-hu- 
 mored shepherd ; and if it be a merit in a poet not to be 
 'all-poet,' he possesses it in a very high degree. He 
 kept me all day with him, and in the evening had a 
 large party of borderers to dinner, which I regretted, as 
 I would rather have seen him merely with his family. 
 But in the morning he was very delightful \ we walked 
 together round his little property, and the interest he 
 took in his plantations, fences, and crops reaped, sow- 
 ing, and to be sown reminded me completely of Wort- 
 
42 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ing. At the same time he has not the affectation of 
 dropping the author altogether, for in pointing out the 
 various objects around to me he did not omit to mention 
 the lands of Deloraine, ' which,' he added with a smile, 
 'you may perhaps have heard of.' In the same way, 
 many of his beasts are named after persons in his 
 works, his old mare is Sybil Grey. He talked of 
 the tales and novels exactly as an indifferent person 
 would have done, except that he praised them less and 
 alluded to them more. He seemed extremely attached 
 to Reginald Heber, and indeed to every thing else ex- 
 cept Bonaparte and a few Scotch whigs, for never did 
 I meet a man so overflowing with the milk of human 
 kindness." 
 
 In the summer of 1820, Augustus was selected 
 as one of the School Examiners at Oxford, and 
 during this time " Augustus Hare plucked Cicero 
 Rabbit," which caused great amusement to the 
 University. " My work began on Monday," he 
 wrote to F. Blackstone ; " I was extremely fright- 
 ened the first day, and though my spirits gradually 
 increased, it was long before I ventured on a viva- 
 voce appearance in Logic. I also find great diffi- 
 culty from being out of practice in minutiae of the 
 two grammars. Things which I have been accus- 
 tomed to take for granted till I have forgotten the 
 reason why they should be so, are denied, and the 
 unexpectedness of the answer has more than once 
 silenced me, and made me doubt the accuracy of 
 my own memory. So much easier is it to say what 
 is right than to confute what is wrong." 
 
CHANGES. 43 
 
 In the spring of 1825, Augustus Hare had told 
 Miss Leycester that, upon receiving the news of 
 Martin Stow's death, he thought within himself, 
 " If I were to die now without ever having been of 
 use ! " and that evening he decided upon taking 
 orders. 
 
 On Advent Sunday, 1825, he was ordained in 
 Winchester College Chapel by the Bishop of Here- 
 ford. That in taking this step he was not influ- 
 enced by worldly motives alone, may be seen from 
 the zeal with which he fulfilled at Alton- even the 
 high idea of ministerial duty which he had formed 
 for himself and suggested to his friends. Doubt- 
 less each year spent among his village people 
 brought with it a growth in grace and a ripening 
 for immortality ; but the work was not begun at 
 Alton. As he himself wrote about this time, per- 
 haps with reference to the mental struggle which 
 had been so long oppressing him : " In darkness 
 there is no choice. It is light that enables us to 
 see the differences between things, and it is Christ 
 that gives us the light." On December 24th, 1825, 
 he had written to Lady Jones a letter (on the out- 
 side of which she has inscribed " Mirabilia ! ") as 
 follows : 
 
 "I have at last made up my mind to take orders 
 at the Bishop of Hereford's next ordination. I know 
 this will give you pleasure ; and may God, who by the 
 workings of his providence thus seems to call me to a 
 particular state of life, enable me to do my duty in it. 
 My wish would be to continue tutor at New College 
 
44 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 during my year of deaconship, to be ordained priest soon 
 after that year is completed, and after that to take the 
 first good country curacy that offers. 
 
 "So far I feel certain that you will like my letter. 
 Would I were as sure you would be equally pleased 
 with the remainder. But the truth may as well be told 
 at once ; and as I have lost no time in communicating 
 to you my decision when once formed, so will I be 
 equally candid in confessing what has induced me now 
 to form it. In two words, it is Maria Leycester." 
 
 In April, Augustus Hare met Miss Leycester at 
 Alderley, still as the friend of Mr. Stow, and a 
 fellow-mourner with her for his loss. But on the 
 day before he left, in speaking of his distress in 
 going away, he disclosed involuntarily what his 
 own feelings had been, while he was doing all he 
 could to promote the happiness of his friend. 
 
 The early summer of 1825 was passed by Maria 
 Leycester at Alderley. 
 Maria Leycester to Miss Clinton. 
 
 "Stoke, July 27, 1825. That I have not written to 
 you before you will easily understand to have arisen 
 from my unwillingness to lose a single hour of my last 
 days at Alderley. They were indeed very precious to 
 me, and after staying there for four months uninterrupt- 
 edly, you may well imagine how painful it was to me to 
 leave all those who were more than usually endeared to 
 me by the comfort they had afforded me during a time 
 when nothing else could have pleased or interested. 
 Certainly too, altogether, with its inhabitants, its abun- 
 dance of books, of drawings, liberty unrestrained, beauti- 
 ful walks and rides and seats, luxuriance of flowers, and 
 
CHANGES. 45 
 
 in delicious weather, there cannot on earth be so perfect 
 a paradise. During the hot weather, we generally went 
 on the mere or rode in the evenings. Every morning 
 before breakfast Lucy and I met in the wood at the old 
 Moss House, where we spent an hour together, and Owen 
 came to ferry me home. With so much around to inter- 
 est and please me, I put away self as much as possible, 
 and endeavored as much as I could to enjoy the present. 
 You know how dearly I love all those children, and it 
 was such a pleasure to see them all so happy together. 
 To be sure it would be singular if they were not differ- 
 ent from other children, with the advantages they have, 
 where education is made so interesting and amusing as 
 it is to them. . . . While others of their age are plod- 
 ding through the dull histories, of which they remem 
 ber nothing, of unconnected countries and ages, K.'s 
 system is to take one particular era perhaps, and upon 
 the basis of the General History, pick out for them from 
 different books all that bears upon that one subject, 
 whether in memoirs or literature, making it at once an 
 interesting study to herself and them." 
 
 Maria Leycester to a Friend in London. 
 
 "March 29, 1827. All your doubts and difficulties I 
 enter into and understand, and I think there is scarcely 
 so trying a situation, one so full of fears, as that of a 
 person who struggles to act up to the highest sense of 
 right, and yet wishes not to seem uncharitable, or to con- 
 demn those around who act differently or think less to 
 be necessary. To those who have once separated them- 
 selves from the world, openly shown and declared the 
 difference of their opinions, and are consequently coun- 
 tenanced by many others who think and act as they do, 
 
46 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the difficulty is far less, the struggle is at an end. 
 They have made their choice, and though they may 
 often judge imperfectly and be judged harshly, they 
 are, I do not doubt, happier than those who try to recon- 
 cile their better feelings with the habits of the world by 
 taking a middle course. To persevere with firmness and 
 courage in what we know to be right, caring not for the 
 ridicule of others, and at the same time to disarm their 
 censure by the mildness, humility, and charity with which 
 we differ from them, is one of the most difficult points 
 to gain ; but I agree perfectly with you that no one can 
 judge of another's mind, or what may have an effect 
 upon it. It is the object we are. to attain which should 
 be alike to all, the means of arriving at it may differ in 
 every different person, and we must remember we are 
 accountable only for ourselves. As far as we can make 
 Sunday a day of rest, not so much from outward acts as 
 from earthly feelings, it must surely be right, and in Lon- 
 don, above all places, this is so difficult to do, that every 
 help we can give to our wavering fancies must be 
 needed ; indeed, I have always looked back with shame 
 upon the waste of so sacred a day, which the habits of 
 London life entail even upon such humble sharers in it 
 as myself. As for theatres, I cannot understand where 
 their individual harm lies. How far example and sanc- 
 tion is right is another question ; but I cannot but think 
 that there is much to be said of the good produced by 
 the presence of respectable and good people. Such amuse- 
 ments, in the case of these all deserting them, would 
 become much more pernicious in their character, and the 
 staying away of ever so many would not deter others 
 from going, while their presence may be a restraint and 
 preservation from evil. ..." 
 
CHANGES. 47 
 
 Augustus Hare frequently met Miss Leycester 
 during the winter of 1825-26, which she passed 
 with her brother at East Sheen, and the following 
 summer he visited Stoke. 
 Maria Leycester to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " Stoke, yune 23, 1826. After dining early, Augustus 
 and I proposed an expedition to Hodnet, and my father 
 joined us. It was the most bright, beautiful evening, and 
 I cannot describe to you how lovely the rectory looked, 
 it is so improved since the trees are grown up, and there 
 was such an abundance of flowers, which seemed to 
 mock the desolation of the house within. As I stood 
 there, looking at that beautiful view, my mind went back 
 to years gone by, and I could almost have fancied my- 
 self again the Maria Leycester when it was a place to 
 me of such exquisite enjoyment. I thought of all the 
 happiness I had received there from those I loved so 
 dearly, and turned to find them all gone, Augustus stand- 
 ing by me as the only remaining link of all that had 
 been. We went together over the garden in silence, 
 both feeling much that could find no utterance ; but it 
 was a comfort to know that all was understood." 
 
 Of this time is the following letter from Bishop 
 Heber 
 
 " Bombay, June 3, 1825. . . . "It has not been alto- 
 gether business which has prevented my writing; for, 
 busy as I have been, and must always be, I could still 
 long since have found or made time to say how gratified 
 I am by your keeping me in recollection, and with how 
 much eagerness I open letters which bring me near to 
 such valued friends at so great a distance, and which 
 call me back, as yours do, for a time, from the broad, 
 
48 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 arid plain of Rohilkund to the quiet lanes and hedge- 
 row walks of Stoke or Hodnet. There are, however, 
 alas ! so many painful associations connected with my 
 handwriting since the period of my letters to Augustus 
 and Mrs. Stanley, that I have felt, to say the truth, a 
 strange reluctance to address a letter to you, out of a 
 fear to disturb afresh the grief of an affectionate and 
 innocent heart, which had been so severe a sufferer by 
 the events which took place at the commencement of 
 my present journey. That journey, interesting as it has 
 been, and full of scenes and circumstances peculiarly 
 adapted to excite and gratify, has had its pleasures, in- 
 deed, throughout, alloyed with very sad recollections, and 
 much as I enjoyed the beautiful country and singular 
 people through which my course was laid, I could not 
 help often, very often, calling to mind that I was seeing 
 all these things alone, and divided by distance, or a yet 
 more awful separation, from my wife, children, and the 
 attached and affectionate friend with whom I had hoped 
 to share my pleasures and toils, and whose acquire- 
 ments, good sense, and invincible good temper and 
 cheerfulness so remarkably fitted him to enjoy and profit 
 by such a pilgrimage. My wife and one of my children 
 our dear little Emily I have since been permitted 
 to rejoin, and the acounts we receive of little Harriet, 
 whom they were obliged to leave behind in Calcutta, con- 
 tinue very comfortable. . . . For myself, I really do not 
 recollect a time when I have enjoyed more perfect health 
 than now, and though my hair grows gray all the faster 
 for the fiery sunbeams which have beaten on it, yet 
 * that,' as I remember a poor old woman saying of her 
 rheumatism, 'is, at my time of life, excusable' As to 
 the general outline of our lives in India, you have had, 
 
CHANGES. 49 
 
 I know, a diligent and faithful, as well as a most attached, 
 correspondent in Emily, who will have told you both the 
 wide expanse of river, mountain, forest, and plain which 
 I have since been travelling, her own still more romantic 
 and perilous situation during the mutiny at Barrackpore, 
 and, (as I believe she has written since her arrival here) 
 the long voyage of six weeks which she made to rejoin 
 me round the whole southern half of India. We have 
 since had a little experience of camp-life together ; and 
 it gave me pleasure to find that, though the weather, 
 even on the hills, is too hot at present for a long con- 
 tinuance under canvas, she is likely to enjoy a marching 
 life as much as I do. For myself, 
 
 'My tent on shore, my pinnace on the sea, 
 Are more than cities or serais to me.' 
 
 So far as enjoyment only is concerned, I know nothing 
 more agreeable than the continual change of scene and 
 air, the exercise, the good hours, the good appetite, the 
 temperance, and the freedom from the forms and visiting 
 of a city life to which we are enabled or compelled by a long 
 march, encamping daily with our little caravan through 
 even a moderately interesting country, nor, except during 
 the intense heat and the annual deluge of rain (which, 
 by the way, it must be owned, occupies one-half of our 
 tropical calendar), I should desire no other than a 
 canvas roof during the rest of my abode in India. Many 
 indeed as the discomforts and dangers of India are 
 (and surely there are few lands on earth where death so 
 daily and hourly knocks at our doors, or where men have 
 so constant warning to hold themselves in readiness to 
 meet their Maker), and much as, I cannot help feeling, 
 I sacrificed in coming hither, I have never yet repented 
 my determination, or have ceased to be thankful to God 
 3 d 
 
50 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 for the varied interest, the amalgamated knowledge, and, 
 I hope and think, the augmented means of usefulness 
 which this new world has supplied to me. I have, in- 
 deed, abundant reasons for thankfulness in the preserva- 
 tions which my wife and children have met with amid 
 all the dangers of unhealthy climates, wide wanderings 
 by land and sea, and the incidental dangers and difficul- 
 ties of political disturbance (in my wife's case even at 
 her own door), and in mine, during my progress through 
 countries which are never, according to European ideas, 
 settled or tranquil. Still more ought I to be thankful 
 for the support and encouragement which I am receiving 
 from almost all classes of men in my attempts to dis- 
 charge my duty. And, after all, India, in itself, taking 
 one province with another, is really a noble field either 
 of duty or speculation, abounding in every thing which 
 can interest either an artist, an antiquarian, a lover of 
 the picturesque and romantic beauty, or a curious ob- 
 server of human life, both in their most refined and their 
 simplest dresses. I have often thought how Edward 
 Stanley would be at home here, and how rich a portfolio 
 he would have acquired in such a journey as I have been 
 making, from the wild and naked Bheel, with his bow 
 and arrows of bamboo and his kennel (for his house de- 
 serves no better name) in the dark recesses of the jungle, 
 to the splendidly equipped Patan, with his bright chain- 
 mail, his silver studded lance, his shield of rhinoceros 
 hide as transparent as amber, and the trappings of silk, 
 silver, and brocade which almost sweep the ground as 
 he passes on his beautiful charger. Either of these 
 would make, as you may well believe, a spirited pict- 
 ure ; nor might less striking sketches be made from the 
 courts and processions of the native princes, with all 
 
CHANGES. 5 1 
 
 which noise, bustle, banners, elephants, and horsemen 
 can give of magnificence, or from the totally different 
 ostentation of the more austere Brahmins and religious 
 mendicants. You may conceive the former of these, 
 with their heads close shaven, their naked bodies cov- 
 ered with chalk and cowdung, a white cloth round their 
 waists, and their countenances composed into a studied 
 calmness, the meekness and abstraction of which is 
 sometimes singularly contrasted with the steady, watch- 
 ful, crafty, glittering eye which seems to look into those 
 its owner speaks with ; the latter mad, filthy, hideous, 
 his hair and his beard full of ashes, his garment a 
 tiger's skin, his limbs distorted and his body scarred 
 with the effects of his voluntary austerities, his eyes 
 inflamed with spiritual pride and intoxicating drugs, and 
 his whole mind and body wilfully lowered to the level of 
 the wild animals among whom he chiefly affects to have 
 his habitation. Add to all this a very rich and luxuri- 
 ant scenery, a sky which gives to every object a glow 
 beyond any thing seen in the old Italian paintings, and 
 (in some of the older and more renowned cities) build- 
 ings which in beauty of material (white marble) far 
 surpass, and in grace and majesty bear no unfavorable 
 comparison with, our finest Gothic architecture. Such 
 is India; and such a country is doubtless well worth 
 visiting, even if one had no stronger motives than curi- 
 osity in coming hither. Yet I own there are times when, 
 though I do not repent, I cannot help being melancholy ; 
 and it is, perhaps, one of the advantages for which I 
 ought to be thankful, that I have too much and too con- 
 stant employment on my hands to have much leisure 
 for indulging gloomy thoughts. You are probably 
 aware that I had an opportunity of visiting the moun- 
 
52 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 tains which form the first stay and outwork of the 
 Himalaya. The season, however, was too far advanced 
 and my time too limited to allow of my penetrating 
 more than five days' journey from the plains of Hin- 
 doostan, or to climb to a greater height than about nine 
 thousand feet, where Merdideer lay before me at about 
 forty miles direct distance, and above sixteen thou- 
 sand feet higher still. It was tantalizing to turn back 
 at such a time ; but even thus far the scenery which 
 I passed through not only surpassed all which I had 
 seen, but all which I had fancied previously. Adieu,, 
 dear Maria. That you may be blessed with all temporal 
 and eternal happiness is the earnest wish of your sincere 
 and affectionate friend. R. Calcutta." 
 
 
 
 After a visit to Penrhos, Maria Leycester re- 
 turned with the Stanleys to Alderley, in order to 
 attend the marriage of her friend, Isabella Stan- 
 ley, with Captain Parry. In June, she went for 
 three weeks to the Isle of Wight, and*thence to 
 Paris with her father and Mrs. Oswald Leycester, 
 returning to Sheen for the christening of her 
 brother's eldest son. One of her great interests 
 this year was in the publication of the " Guesses 
 at Truth," by the two brothers, Augustus and 
 Julius Hare. As their " minds had grown up to- 
 gether, been nourished in great measure by the 
 same food, sympathized in each other's affections 
 and aversions, and been shaped reciprocally by the 
 assimilating influences of brotherly communion, a 
 family likeness is perceivable throughout the vol- 
 umes, although perhaps with such differences as it 
 
CHANGES. 53 
 
 is not displeasing to behold in the children of the 
 same parents." * 
 
 Augustus Hare, who was to pass the next winter 
 in Italy, spent two days at Sheen while the Ley- 
 cesters were there ; and, as they returned to Stoke, 
 they passed through Oxford, and visited him at 
 New College. 
 
 Maria Leycester's Journal. 
 
 "Stoke, August 1 6. I feel now a glow of inward 
 happiness which I have long been without, and whether 
 I contemplate the beauty of the world around me, or 
 turn inward and dwell on the beauty of feeling, and the 
 many sources of gratification it has given me, my heart 
 swells with gratitude for such enjoyment. Secure of the 
 affection of Augustus, I feel no longer a blank in life, 
 and every thing takes a new and brighter coloring. 
 
 " Oct. 28. The more we advance in Christian 
 knowledge, the narrower seems the way : so many dif- 
 ficulties seem to start up, so many trials to arise, of 
 which we have lived unconscious before, and the self- 
 humbling nature of all real inquiry into ourselves leaves 
 an almost discouraging sense of how much there is yet 
 to be done. We are too apt to compare ourselves with 
 others as imperfect and perhaps more erring, instead of 
 seeing how far below the Gospel we fall, or how inferior 
 we are to many who have so much more to struggle 
 with than we have ; in short, if there be a way in which 
 it is possible to deceive our own hearts into the belief 
 that we are better than others, or that we have excuses 
 for not being so, we instantly adopt it. Surely, of all 
 the Christian graces, that charity, which vaunteth not 
 
 * Preface to the "Guesses." 
 
54 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, 
 beareth and endureth all things, is the most hard to 
 attain. I daily feel it so. It is so difficult to bear with 
 patience and allowance the faults of others. It is very 
 mistaken to think that the great occasions of life only 
 demand religious feeling and principle : it is in the 
 every-day petty annoyances, the constant call upon our 
 charity, forbearance, and meekness, that we feel the 
 constant want of some stronger and more powerful 
 stimulant than the feeling of the moment, to smooth 
 down the rubs of life and make our existence one of 
 peace and happiness." 
 
 "April i, 1828. As I search deeper into things 
 unseen I seem to gain clearer views of evangelical truth, 
 and in looking back I see how little my former ideas 
 upon the subject were consistent with the word of God 
 itself. For this increase of knowledge I feel that I am 
 chiefly indebted to those books and those writers usually 
 stigmatized as Evangelical and Calvinistic. I cannot 
 enter into the (as it appears to me) narrow and preju- 
 diced feeling which would at once discard every 
 book in which there were expressed any opinions differ- 
 ing from one's own, and even in which there might be 
 mingled expressions at variance with good taste and 
 judgment. Fallible as all human efforts are, we must 
 distinguish in every thing the wheat from the tares, 
 and though I may not agree and feel on many points 
 with another, I can benefit by and admire others which 
 he perhaps may represent in a more striking light than 
 many a less earnest and zealous author, who may be 
 free from objection and yet may be far less useful. The 
 truth is, nothing but a very strong feeling of religion can 
 inspire such language as shall excite interest and awaken 
 
CHANGES. 55 
 
 attention in the heart. This strong feeling is usually- 
 connected with a strong view on doctrinal points, but it 
 is not inseparable from some of them." 
 
 Maria Leycester's Journal. 
 
 " Oct. 1 8. The die is cast, and our fate is decided. 
 After the long years of uncertainty and suspense attend- 
 ing every future prospect, the first certainty was overpow- 
 ering, the first certain conviction that I should indeed 
 become the wife of one to whom every warmest affection 
 is now given. It scarcely yet assumes the form of reality, 
 nor do my thoughts accustom themselves without sur- 
 prise to the present view of things. The break through 
 old habits, and the change to new, must be felt strongly 
 whenever it comes, and I feel entering so completely 
 upon a new line of duties, feelings, and occupations, that 
 I rejoice to think I have a little time of quiet previously 
 to prepare for it. How my heart does overflow with 
 gratitude whenever I think of him, of his deep affec- 
 tion, his tender feelings, his generous and disinterested 
 nature ! And the high and overrated estimate he forms 
 of me, I begin to feel, so far from exciting pride or 
 vanity, tends to lower and depress both by making me 
 feel how little I really come up to it, and how earnestly 
 I must strive hereafter not to disappoint the expectations 
 he has formed of my character. His standard is that of 
 Christian feeling and action, and to come up to it in 
 every daily occurrence of life will require that watch- 
 fulness which must not slumber. How it raises and 
 exalts earthly affection when it is joined as it is to such 
 entire confidence and unity of feeling on every subject, 
 and when the motive is so much the same ! Oh, may I 
 be enabled to fulfil this new part of life in such a man- 
 
56 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ner as may become a real follower of Christ, in hum- 
 bleness and sincerity, endeavoring as much as possible 
 to put away self from every consideration, laboring for 
 the good of others, submitting without a murmur to their 
 will, and seeking so to temper and moderate the strong- 
 est feelings of my nature, that they may never draw me 
 too much from higher thoughts, making me love the 
 creature more than the Creator. To Him may I show 
 my deep and fervent gratitude for his infinite mercies to 
 me by making his word the guide and rule of every ac- 
 tion, and striving to advance each day in holiness, and 
 in love and charity to all around me. How wonderfully 
 have all things worked together for my good ; and even 
 those things which seemed the most bitter to endure, 
 proved the means of my ultimate happiness ! Most 
 clearly does it show how weak-sighted and fallacious 
 are our judgments, how entirely we ought to trust to 
 that power which overrules every thing in his mercy for 
 our real good." 
 
v. 
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 
 
 "Dans Popinion du monde, le mariage, comme dans la 
 comedie, finit tout. C'est precisement le contraire qui est 
 vrai : il commence tout." Madame Swetchine. 
 
 "Love is surely a questioning of God, and the enjoyment 
 in it is an answer from the loving God himself." Bettina 
 to Goethe. 
 
 TUST before his marriage, the small New College 
 ** living of Alton-Barnes in Wiltshire had fallen 
 to Augustus Hare as Fellow of his college, and he 
 had accepted it. But the place to which he first 
 took his bride was West Woodhay, near Newbury 
 in Berkshire, which had been lent to him for the 
 purpose by his connection, John Sloper.* It is a 
 picturesque, old-fashioned, red-brick manor-house, 
 with high roofs and chimneys, embosomed among 
 trees ; in front a lawn, backed by the swelling 
 downs ; and at one side, almost close to the house, 
 the little church, of which Mr. Sloper was the 
 rector. A more desolate place, or one more en- 
 tirely secluded from society, could scarcely be 
 
 * Emilia Shipley, second daughter of the bishop, married W. C. 
 Sloper, afterwards of Sundridge. Mr. Sloper of West Woodhaj 
 was her husband's great-nephew. 
 3* 
 
58 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 imagined ; and Mary Lea, one of the two maids 
 who had accompanied Mrs. A. Hare from Stoke, 
 and who had already entered upon those loving 
 and devoted ministrations which were to last for 
 her whole lifetime, had many stories to tell after- 
 wards of its unearthly occupants, and the mysterious 
 noises which were heard there at night. But M. 
 H. as I will call, during this period of her life, 
 her who has been the sunshine and blessing of my 
 own existence, as she was of that of an earlier 
 Augustus Hare was very happy there, and ever 
 after remembered the place with a tender affection, 
 The family history at this time is best told by ex- 
 tracts from the letters which remain : 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 " West Woodhay House, June 5, 1829. We came 
 through the park at Blenheim, which was delicious on 
 such a day, stopped a short time in Oxford, then to 
 Newbury by half-past five, and then came on here seven 
 miles through the most charming woody lanes. You 
 may guess the delight with which we approached our 
 home, and found ourselves here. It is the perfection 
 of an old manor-house, the house very large, which in 
 this hot weather is very agreeable, and does not look 
 waste or dreary as it might do in winter. The draw- 
 ing-room where I now write is a capital room, very well 
 furnished, with three windows down to the ground open- 
 ing on a long lawn running up to the hills, with trees on 
 each side, roses clustering in at the windows, and all 
 looking so retired, I should almost say lonely. Then 
 there is a very nice dining-room, and sitting-room 
 
WEST WOODHAY. 59 
 
 for Augustus, besides a great hall, and small library ; 
 and upstairs my room is magnificent, and there is a 
 large tapestried chamber with family pictures. I don't 
 know how we are to come down to rectory accommoda- 
 tion afterwards. It seems all so extraordinary being 
 here alone, so completely separated from every thing and 
 everybody ; and you would have laughed to see me this 
 morning with my two servants, making out to the best 
 of our mutual knowledge or ignorance all the things to 
 be sent for, there being nothing except what has been 
 borrowed from the farm-house for last night and this 
 morning. Mr. Sloper comes to the farm to-morrow, 
 which is very well, to set us in the way of going on. 
 
 " I think you may now give full vent to your fancy 
 in my cause without much fear of being wrong. All you 
 imagined of the tenderness, consideration, and perfect 
 way in which I should be treated falls short of the 
 reality. When I am with Augustus it is but a con- 
 tinuance of that confidence and openness which has so 
 long existed between us, only freed from any doubts or 
 reserve kept up as long as we were in an ambiguous 
 situation. But it seems very odd to find myself so com- 
 pletely removed from all my own family, in so new a 
 place, and obliged to assume the office of mistress of 
 a household to which I am so little used. I could 
 scarcely think of any of you without tears till to-day, 
 and I do not know now that my heart is not very full in 
 turning to those I have left. It is so different from any 
 other parting. He understands it all so well, but says 
 if all women suffer as much in marrying under so much 
 less favoring circumstances as generally are, he wonders 
 they ever survive it. . . . This weather is perfectly deli- 
 cious. Every now and then a dream comes over me of 
 
60 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Tuesday, and I feel as if I was now in another state of 
 existence. I scarcely know yet how to write collectedly 
 and say what I feel, for all is bewildering to me at pres- 
 ent, especially to know myself in that situation so long 
 uncertain, doubtful, and distant, now really come to pass 
 in the most beautiful form I have ever pictured it." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 " June 12, 1829. We dine at five o'clock, and walk 
 afterwards. You cannot imagine any thing more delight- 
 ful than these fields are, so very extensive, more like 
 a park, stretching before the house in a long uninter- 
 rupted surface of green terminated by a range of green 
 hills and then the hawthorn is such a mass of snowy 
 white, that it quite puts to shame all lanes and hedges 
 with you. What a different style of country it is, to be 
 sure, so much more really retired and country it looks 
 than the north. I shall try the pony in a day or two 
 with him walking by my side ; he thinks it will not run 
 away. Sometimes he reads to me a little, and any- 
 body would have been amused to see him one evening 
 reading me a sermon of Skelton's, ' How to be happy, 
 though married.' To-day he has got down a volume of 
 Rousseau out of the little old library in the drawing- 
 room, and has read me some of the letters to Julie, 
 which he calls eloquent nonsense. 
 
 " June 13. I am most perfectly happy and com- 
 fortable. Last night we had a delicious walk to a 
 farm-house about a mile off, so pretty it was, covered 
 with roses and plants all over the outside of the house, 
 and I made friends with the mistress, who sent me a 
 loaf and oven-cake as a present. Breakfast over, I go 
 to the kitchen, inquire into matters there, scold about 
 
WEST WOODHAY. 6l 
 
 the bad bread, contrive a dinner out of nothing, find 
 out how many things are not to be had for asking. 
 * No, ma'am, you can't have that because there is not 
 such a thing,' is my general answer. Then my bonnet 
 is put on, and we sally out into our park, find out new 
 paths, come home, ' Letters and butcher,' and so there 
 is business for the morning." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " jfune 27. This place is quite what I have so often 
 thought the first home ought to be, and what it so sel- 
 dom is in reality. ... I delight in our Sundays ; the 
 relief it is to cast one's self upon Him who will be with 
 us in joy as in sorrow, and upon whom we may repose 
 with sure confidence those trembling feelings of joy, 
 whose uncertainty is often felt, showing us the need of 
 support even in rejoicing. I longed for you to have 
 been here last Sunday to have heard my husband in the 
 church. His preaching is so earnest, and brings the 
 subject so home, that I cannot but feel all the time it 
 must be doing good, and if his peculiar manner has the 
 effect of rousing attention, it is certainly useful. Then 
 he cordially unites with me in every plan of considering 
 the good of our little household, and I look forward 
 with still greater pleasure to all that we shall join in 
 when we have our own parish. I can hardly tell which 
 part of our day is the most enjoyable ; but perhaps our 
 evening walk or ride is the most so. Do not you know 
 the pleasure of hunting about in a library full of odd 
 volumes and old editions of books, all mixed in strange 
 confusion ? We found yesterday an old ' Pilgrim's Prog- 
 ress,' with queer cuts and engravings, which was amus- 
 ing to look over. He is reading Milton to me, and 
 
62 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 sometimes Wordsworth, and any thing else called forth 
 by the occasion. Then he enjoys a little song, and there 
 is a very tolerable large pianoforte for me to play to 
 him upon." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 " West Woodhay, July 19. You may guess how 
 impatient I am to hear about Alton-Barnes. When 
 once settled, I think I shall be so happy I shall not 
 know what to do. There is something so enlivening in 
 having real things to do, and I shall be so busy in making 
 my garden and every thing nice. I begin to feel a little 
 more naturalized, and less as in a dream. 
 
 " August 2. Augustus is so shocked at the igno- 
 rance of the people here who have come to him about 
 confirmation, that he is set down to write a sermon for 
 them this evening. I therefore will sit down to instruct 
 you, not about confirmation, but about Alton-Barnes. 
 
 "To be sure, Woodhay does seem a paradise on 
 returning, and the fine space and breathing-room is so 
 enjoyable ! But comparisons are odious, and we will 
 forget Woodhay, whilst I tell you of our home that is to 
 be. A delightful day we had on Friday. The drive 
 through Marlborough Chase Lord Aylesbury's was 
 exquisite. We stopped at Marlborough about three- 
 quarters of an hour looking at household furniture to be 
 sold, and we found little enough to wish for. About 
 two o'clock, after a beautiful drive through the vale of 
 Pewsey, we arrived at Alton. Could we have stopped 
 three miles on this side, we should have been in the 
 prettiest, most delightful country I ever saw; but we 
 are just a little too far, getting too much upon the bar- 
 ren chalk downs. Alton itself is quite an oasis in the 
 
WEST WOODHAY. 63 
 
 desert, a hamlet, with much wood and green meadows, 
 all shut into a small compass, backed on every side by 
 the green hills, which are more broken and better formed 
 than those here, and in a drawing I daresay would 
 give the effect of being in a fine mountainous country ! 
 It was much prettier than I expected, and the approach 
 to the Rectory agreeably surprised me. It is red brick, 
 it is true, and the door is in the middle, with little win- 
 dows on each side, but then it has the tint of old age ; 
 the front is nearly covered with clematis and jessamine, 
 and the little green sloping terrace and shrubs and trees 
 round it, though rather confined, give a look of quiet 
 and retirement. The inside was much what I expected, 
 very comfortable as to the number of rooms, but the 
 size being fourteen and fifteen feet square, and low, 
 seemed very confined after our spacious quarters here ; 
 and then, as we dined eleven, we saw them to the great- 
 est disadvantage. The study, which has shelves all 
 round and cupboards below, looked the best ; the others 
 scantily furnished and wretched ; yet I could not help 
 thinking how much we should have to do to make them 
 even as full as they are now. . . . Miss Crowe took me 
 all over the house and offices. She was, I suppose, a 
 little shy, and I felt exceedingly the awkwardness of 
 the situation, coming to turn out these people who had 
 lived there eighteen years, and were much attached to 
 the place ; so that, further than seeing went, I made 
 little progress, and I felt quite in despair how to set 
 about any thing further. After dinner we went out to 
 the church, which is the smallest place you ever saw, with 
 about half a dozen pews. A farm-house close to it, with 
 the prettiest possible flower-garden, excited my envy. 
 I was introduced to the lady of it and her daughters, 
 
64 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 who are of quite a higher order than our farmers in the 
 north. Alton-Priors is quite close, and the church, which 
 I wish was ours, has a fine old tower and magnificent 
 yew-tree. I settled my first sketch at once. Altogether 
 it is certainly very pretty. The worst part is the roads, 
 being chalky, and in winter they say it is like walking 
 through so much mortar, no stirring without pattens, 
 old Stoke lanes must have been excellent in comparison. 
 Next morning we got on much better. Miss Crowe 
 began to find out my ignorance, and to offer her advice ; 
 and with much kindness set to work helping me to take 
 dimensions for curtains, carpets, &c. She was, I am 
 sure, much amused by my ignorance, and Augustus's 
 perfect helplessness, and I believe she pitied me greatly 
 in having no assistance from him, but * settle it just as 
 you please.' 
 
 " I feel no doubt we shall get very fond of the place, 
 and that Augustus will be heartily sorry to exchange it 
 for Hurstmonceaux. The barrenness of the downs gives 
 our little hamlet quite the appearance of an oasis in 
 a desert, and there is something especially appropriate 
 to the character of a pastor and his flock in the having 
 them all so immediately under his own eye. I am very 
 happy in seeing, by the experience here, how much 
 Augustus makes himself beloved by the poor people, 
 and how much they like his plain and homely style of 
 teaching them." 
 
 Catharine Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " December 19. On Wednesday, when we were at La- 
 thom, came an express from Knowsley, saying there was 
 to be a railroad exhibition that day near Prescot, and 
 the Liverpool tunnel lighted up for Lords Harrowby 
 
WEST WOODHAY. 65 
 
 and Sandon next day. So we got off as soon as we 
 could, and drove straight to the railroad at Prescot, and 
 there found Charlotte and Penrhyn, and the wonderful 
 locomotive engine flying past. To us, who have no turn 
 for these things, and therefore cannot or do not realize 
 any description, the seeing them comes with such novelty 
 and force, and brings such a train of new thoughts, 
 this thing, which is to convey carriages, people, goods, 
 every thing, from Liverpool to Manchester, thirty miles 
 in an hour, ruining half the warehouses at Liverpool 
 by making Manchester into a seaport town, the goods 
 landed at the docks at Liverpool being henceforth trans- 
 ported at once into the warehouses at Manchester in as 
 short a time as they now take in being carried from the 
 lower to the upper part of the town. The effect of the 
 velocity is that when you stand on the railroad and 
 watch the machine coming, it seems not to approach, 
 but to expand into size and distinctness like the image 
 in a phantasmagoria. They would not take any car for 
 passengers that day as it was a newly constructed en- 
 gine, and they were only trying ; but it gave one a sen- 
 sation seeing it whiz past. The next day, at ten o'clock, 
 Penrhyn, Edward, Mr. Stanley, and I set off in the 
 Derby coach and four for the tunnel, which is at the 
 end of the aforesaid railroad, an excavated vault of 
 a mile and a quarter under the town of Liverpool, 
 coming out at the docks. Lord Harrowby and Lord 
 Sandon were just arrived, with Adam Hodgson, one of 
 the directors of the said tunnel, Scoresby of the Arctic 
 Regions, James Hornby, altogether about twenty of 
 us. We went first to see the carriages in preparation 
 for the railroad. I had no idea it was all in such a 
 state of forwardness. They are like the omnibus, a 
 
66 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 coach with a chariot at each end, some fit for twenty, 
 some for thirty passengers ; also cradles for pigs, cattle, 
 and goods ; and platforms with railroad wheels, upon 
 which you may drive your carriage and horses as into 
 a steamboat, stand still, and be transplanted as upon the 
 fairy carpet for thirty miles while your horses are bait- 
 ing, ready to drive off and take you on, and making a 
 ferry of it! They are now thinking of continuing the 
 tunnel under the Mersey, so as to supersede the real 
 ferry altogether to Seacumbe. This seen, we got into a 
 kind of German post-wagon, all twenty, a horse can- 
 tered with us up the little tunnel as they call it, and then 
 was taken off, and we were launched into the great 
 tunnel, a vaulted passage lighted with lamps suspended 
 from the centre ; a slight push sent us off, and away we 
 started at the rate of thirty miles an hour, our speed in- 
 creasing as we went on, perceptible only from the strong 
 current of air, and the passing the lamps so rapidly. I 
 never felt so strange, so much in a state of magic, of 
 enchantment, as if surrounded by new powers and ca- 
 pabilities. In less than three minutes from having 
 entered the tunnel in the country, we came out on the 
 other side of Liverpool at the docks. The first effect 
 of daylight was beautiful, and of finding ourselves we did 
 not know where, after the rapid motion, bewildering. 
 We got into our coach again grumbling at Macadam 
 roads, and the Derby pace of ten miles an hour, Ed- 
 ward lamenting his hard fate at being fifty years old 
 at the beginning of such things, Mr. Stanley amus- 
 ing in his speculations as to the effect of these things 
 in various directions. I tell you all this because you in 
 the South must be in a state of comparative behindness 
 and darkness, and you will hardly believe, as I did not, 
 
WEST WOODHAY. 6*J 
 
 what is doing till I had seen it. I dare say Augustus 
 will like to know it all. Alas ! at this moment you have 
 not him to turn to, not that I pity you one bit. I do 
 enjoy complete solitude and freedom so much myself, 
 that, though you have a great privation to set against it, 
 I am sure you have a sister feeling about it." 
 
VI. 
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 
 
 " Nature has perfections, in order to show that she is the 
 image of God ; and defects, in order to show that she is 
 only His image." Pascal. 
 
 r I ^HE New College living of Alton-Barnes which 
 * Augustus Hare had accepted was perhaps 
 the most primitive village in Wiltshire. Completely 
 isolated in the great treeless plain of corn which 
 occupies the Vale of Pewsey, its few whitewashed 
 mud cottages, their roofs thatched with straw and 
 sheltered by large elm-trees, are grouped around an 
 oasis of two or three green meadows, in one of 
 which stands the tiny, towerless church of Alton- 
 Barnes, or more properly Alton-Berners, from St. 
 Bernard ; and in the field adjoining the more im- 
 posing but still very small church of Alton-Priors, 
 which derives its name from a small monastic in- 
 stitution, of which no relics exist, except the brass 
 of a nun in its pavement, and the name of " The 
 Priory," by which a rather better class of cottage 
 close by is dignified. 
 
 An antiquarian might find much to interest him 
 in the peculiarities of the surrounding country. The 
 extreme openness of the Wiltshire down district 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 69 
 
 causes the ancient Saxon landmarks to be more 
 visible than in any other county in England. For 
 instance, in the parish of Stanton, whicl\ adjoins 
 Alton, all the boundaries mentioned in Domesday 
 Book are still visible ; such as, an immense thorn- 
 tree of absolutely immemorial age, on the exact 
 spot where " Anna's Thorn " is mentioned ; Anna's 
 Crumble, a crumble being a small round pool for 
 beasts to drink out of ; and Anna's Well, all 
 these names referring to the saint under whose 
 protection the village was placed. It is interesting, 
 in reference to these ancient boundaries, to read 
 the charter which mentions them to any old shep- 
 herd, and tell him to stop you if he hears any name 
 he knows ; and this is the best means of verifying 
 them. 
 
 The name Alton is Saxon, Ea-wal-ton, " the 
 place of beautiful springs," corrupted to Awltoun, 
 hence to Alton. The place is spelt Awltoun in 
 Domesday Book. There are still five springs in 
 Alton-Priors ; one of them is still called Bradwell, 
 by which name it is mentioned in Domesday Book. 
 The exceeding antiquity of the little church of 
 Alton-Barnes is attested by its flat buttresses, re- 
 futing the village tradition that the church was 
 removed to its present site from Shaw, a farm high 
 up on the side of the downs. That which was 
 removed from Shaw, where a chapel certainly ex- 
 isted, was probably the windows of the church, 
 which are of much later date than the rest of the 
 building. 
 
7<D RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 The absolute isolation of the place, without any 
 gentleman's house except the rectory, without any 
 public-house, with scarcely even any thing which can 
 be dignified by the name of a village-shop, has pre- 
 served in the character of the villagers a simplicity 
 which is most unusual ; and, though rough and 
 very ignorant, their straightforward, free-spoken, 
 grateful dispositions made them peculiarly suscepti- 
 ble to the kindness they received from their new 
 rector and his wife, and to the interest which they 
 knew that he felt in them. 
 
 My dear mother has herself left notes referring 
 to her husband's ministerial life, which I will now 
 give in her own words. 
 
 "An artist in painting a portrait finds he has 
 done little towards effecting his purpose when the 
 features are drawn, and the outline completed. 
 These may be true to the life, and yet the whole 
 character of the face the man himself may be 
 wanting. It is a rare thing for a painter to give a 
 likeness that is satisfying to those who have long 
 been familiar with a face, and have been accus- 
 tomed to see the changes and variations that pass 
 over it as circumstances draw out the inward feel- 
 ing, to those who have almost lost sight of the 
 outward form in the light that shines forth through 
 it. Now is it less difficult to portray in words the 
 peculiarities and beauties of a living character ? 
 Here and there may be a line of resemblance, here 
 and there a trait recalling him who is departed ; 
 but the whole, the living whole, the source and 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. /I 
 
 spring of all the separate acts and words, how 
 can this be manifested ? How can those who knew 
 the original furnish those who did not know him 
 with any thing like an adequate conception, or meet 
 the wishes and feelings of those who having known, 
 and loved, and valued the living, desire to have the 
 never-fading recollection in their own minds con- 
 veyed to others ? 
 
 "The beginning of Augustus's ministerial ser- 
 vices was at West Woodhay. The three months 
 subsequent to his marriage were spent there, and, 
 in the absence of its usual minister, he performed 
 the service of the church. Hitherto an occasional 
 sermon in a friend's church had been the extent of 
 his experience in preaching, and of the people he 
 addressed he had been wholly ignorant. But while 
 at Woodhay the examination of some candidates 
 for confirmation brought to his knowledge a de- 
 gree of ignorance on the part both of young and 
 old that both astonished and shocked him. It was 
 clear that, when the ground was so little prepared, 
 the seed of the Word read and preached in church, 
 and the services of the Liturgy, could profit little. 
 He threw aside at once the more regular form of 
 sermon to which he, had been accustomed, and wrote 
 down as if he had been speaking, and in the plainest 
 words, such simple instruction as seemed adapted to 
 the wants of people untaught in the first rudiments 
 of Christian faith. This is mentioned here because 
 it was the beginning of that attempt to teach the 
 poor in a way they could understand which he had 
 
72 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 so earnestly at heart during his stay at Alton, and 
 which, both in his intercourse with his clerical 
 brethren and in his own family, he often loved to 
 dwell upon, ever noting down from the experience 
 of others whatever seemed likely to effect this great 
 object. Having lived but little in the country, and 
 his attention having been engrossed by other sub- 
 jects, he was, from education and habits of life, 
 unacquainted with the character and wants of the 
 poor. The poverty of their minds, their inability 
 to follow a train of reasoning, their prejudices and 
 superstitions, were quite unknown to him. All the 
 usual hindrances to dealing with them, that are 
 commonly ascribed to a college life, were his in full 
 force. But there were some points arising out of 
 his peculiar character and tastes that lessened the 
 difficulty. One of these was his love of plain and 
 simple Saxon English, his dislike of every thing like 
 what is called 'fine writing,' and his study of a 
 rhetorical and forcible manner of expression. To 
 those who look upon learning and scholarship as 
 identical with long words and abstruse thoughts, it 
 seemed a marvel how one whose knowledge lay so 
 much more in books than in men, whose mind was 
 both by nature and culture raised above the com- 
 mon standard, could 'condescend to men of low 
 estate/ and clothe his thoughts in language suited 
 to their capacity. But this mystery found its key 
 in the simplicity which belongs to the substance not 
 the shadow of learning, and in the delight he had 
 ever taken in pure mother-English freed from all 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 73 
 
 the foreign innovations that modern affectation has 
 introduced. The chief means, however, by which 
 the want of experience and knowledge touching the 
 minds and habits of the poor was overcome, was the 
 love he felt towards all his fellow-creatures, and his 
 sympathy in all their concerns. In earlier days this 
 Christ-like mind had manifested itself towards his 
 friends, towards servants, towards all with whom he 
 was brought into contact. It now taught him to 
 talk to his poor parishioners and enter into their 
 interests with the feeling of a father and a friend. 
 This is the feature in his character on which the 
 people of Alton now love most to dwell in recollect- 
 ing their former minister. 
 
 " From the circumstances of the place, it neces- 
 sarily happened that Augustus could not leave his 
 own house to go abroad without passing by the 
 cottages of the greater part of his people ; while 
 they, too, were constantly reminded of him and 
 made familiar with his ordinary habits of life by 
 their close neighborhood. Many, doubtless, have 
 watched his pacings to and fro on the little garden 
 terrace near the house, and felt a grateful love 
 spring up in their hearts as they thought how often 
 the meditations there indulged were directed to 
 their profit. 
 
 " Nor did those simple-minded people fail to look 
 on him with reverence when, seated in his study in 
 the midst of his books, they beheld the sources 
 whence he drew so much of knowledge and wisdom 
 as passed their understanding. He had the power 
 
74 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of throwing himself out of himself into the feelings 
 and interests of others ; nor did he less draw out 
 their sympathies into his own, and make them 
 sharers in his pleasures and his concerns. It was 
 not only the condescension of a superior to those 
 over whom he was placed, it was far more the 
 mutual interchange of feeling of one who loved to 
 forget the difference of station to which each was 
 called, and to bring forward the brotherly union as 
 members of one family in Christ, children of the 
 same Heavenly Father, in which blessed equality 
 all distinctions are done away. Often would he ask 
 their counsel in matters of which he was ignorant, 
 and call upon their sympathy in his thankful rejoic- 
 ing. His garden, his hay-field, his house, were, as 
 it were, thrown open to them, as he made them par- 
 takers of his enjoyment, or sought for their assist- 
 ance in his need. And when any cause of alarm 
 to his property occurred, they showed how fully 
 they had unconsciously imbibed the feeling that it 
 was theirs too. In him they found a friend ready 
 to listen to all their little grievances, and prompt to 
 remedy them when it was possible to do so. 
 
 " His exceeding love of justice and hatred of 
 oppression made him energetic in restoring the 
 rights of all who had been in any way injured ; 
 while his respect for 'the powers that be' his 
 child-like submission to authority prevented his 
 sanctioning for a moment any insubordination of 
 feeling, or undue exaltation of the lower above the 
 higher classes. The attempt to soften the hearts 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 75 
 
 of the farmers to their servants, which he contin- 
 ually labored to effect, was specially needed in the 
 winter of 1830, when so much of hostility was mani- 
 fested between the two orders in the riots that took 
 place. He then showed himself foremost in defend- 
 ing the property of his chief farmer in the formi- 
 dable attack made upon it, and at the risk of his 
 personal safety addressed the rioters to try to avert 
 the destruction they were bent on. Two of the 
 most furious amongst them held their weapons 
 over his head, enraged at his interference with 
 their purpose, and they were withheld from offering 
 him violence only by the timely interposition of a 
 neighboring farmer, who came up at the moment. 
 In consequence of his thus taking part with the 
 farmers, the rectory was threatened with an attack. 
 Before, however, the threat could be executed, the 
 heads of the mob were taken and the rest dispersed. 
 But though he spared no pains to defend his neigh- 
 bor and to detect afterwards the unhappy men 
 who had wantonly ravaged his house and maimed 
 his person, when the prisoners were tried at Salis- 
 bury and evidence was wanting to convict the chief 
 offender of the full crime he was supposed to be 
 guilty of, he returned home rejoicing in the beauty 
 of his country's laws, which administered justice so 
 strictly and impartially, and inclined to the side of 
 mercy rather than of punishment. 
 
 " One instance of the interest he took in the wel- 
 fare of the lowest of his parishioners occurred in a 
 dispute between a young lad and his master, end- 
 
76 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ing in a slight misdemeanor on the part of the boy, 
 for which he was committed to gaol. Having in 
 vain tried to save him from this punishment, which 
 he thought too severe a one, he sought by every 
 means in his power to turn it to his good, and, both 
 by writing him letters while in prison and visiting 
 him there, to soften his heart, and bring him to a 
 right sense of his duty to God and man. A great 
 change has since taken place in the character of 
 this young man, and he is now as steady and seri- 
 ously disposed as his anxious friend desired him to 
 become. 
 
 " It was a favorite saying of his, * We must get 
 at the souls of the poor through their bodies ; ' and, 
 in accordance with this principle, his delight in 
 ministering to their temporal comfort was extreme. 
 The arrival of a stock of clothing for the poor was 
 an event of such rejoicing that all who were in the 
 house could not help sharing in his joy. The half- 
 starved peasant, in receiving his warm jacket, was 
 less glad at heart in his new possession than he 
 who was thus enabled by God to share his abun- 
 dance with those who needed it. Often would his 
 heart seem full to overflowing when, at a feast pre- 
 pared for the old men and women among his flock, 
 he waited on them himself, and, by his gentle and 
 loving words, gave a savor to their food which it 
 would otherwise have wanted. It was clearly he 
 who felt the debt of gratitude to be the greatest in 
 being permitted to give to the least of his brethren 
 in his Master's name. But the lively interest he 
 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 77 
 
 took in all their worldly concerns was shown 
 most fully when visiting the allotments which he 
 had portioned out to each cottager from off the 
 glebe. His delight, as he collected these his ten- 
 ants around him by his kitchen fire, and consulted 
 their respective inclinations and powers of cultivat- 
 ing their little plots of ground, according to the size 
 of their families, was very great. Nor did he fail to 
 encourage the industrious and reprove the negligent 
 husbandman, in such a manner as testified how truly 
 their gain and their loss was his also. On many a 
 summer's evening, when the laborer after his day's 
 work repaired to his allotted garden, would his kind 
 friend come and stand by and watch his progress 
 in preparing the ground, or weeding it, or sowing 
 his seed, and talk over the various crops of potatoes 
 and beans or barley that he hoped to see spring up 
 in it, and this in so friendly and playful a tone as 
 could not fail to win all hearts.* 
 
 * It may be mentioned, as a proof rather of the 
 prevailing lack of Christian feeling which may truly 
 1 set one mourning,' than of any remarkable instance 
 of consideration on his part, that a laborer who 
 had been allowed to leave his work and was sent 
 home to attend his mother's dying-bed, without 
 
 * Another method by which Augustus Hare materially assisted 
 his people was keeping a shop, in which he sold at two-thirds of 
 the cost price all kinds of clothing and materials of clothing. The 
 shop was held in the rectory-barn oqjjp every week, when Mrs. 
 Hare attended and measured out the flannels, fustian, &c. No 
 amelioration of their condition was ever more valued by the peo- 
 ple of Alton than this. 
 
78 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 deducting the wages due to him had he continued 
 at work, was so touched by this little attention to 
 his feelings that he still speaks of it with tears in 
 his eyes. 
 
 " But though the temporal good and comfort of 
 his people was near Augustus's heart, far nearer 
 was their spiritual welfare. On his first coming to 
 Alton the greater part of his hearers were so un- 
 accustomed to listen to instruction or to follow any 
 arguments, that his earnestness in the cause of God 
 was the chief lesson which taught them. It seemed 
 to be the prominent impression on all, whether they 
 understood his teaching or no, whether they were 
 disposed to profit by it or no, ' Mr. Hare does long 
 to save our souls.' The great importance he at- 
 tached to their serving God, and the high standard 
 of Christian life he set before them, were the points 
 that chiefly impressed their minds in the beginning 
 of his ministry among them, and it seemed to 
 awaken in many a sense of their own shortcomings 
 in godliness. As he became more intimate with 
 the capacities and wants of his people, and still more 
 in proportion as his own spiritual feelings became 
 fresher and purer from increased experience of the 
 truths he had to declare, his teaching became more 
 adapted to the congregation before him. Human 
 reasonings gave way to simpler and more spiritual 
 appeals to the hearts of his hearers, and the people 
 were themselves alive to the change, and observed, 
 ' how our minister does grow,' and that * he went 
 more and more on in the Scriptures.' 
 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 79 
 
 " It was in the winter of 1830 that, finding how 
 ignorant they were of the meaning of what they 
 heard in church, he began assembling the men of 
 both parishes once a week in a barn adjoining the 
 rectory. One of the Gospels, or the Acts, was 
 then gone through, and explained in a familiar way, 
 illustrated so as to bring it home to their compre- 
 hension, beginning and ending with a short prayer. 
 Many expressed the benefit they derived from this 
 mode of teaching, and the additional interest it 
 gave in all they heard in church, and the attendance 
 there was much increased from that time. He took 
 great delight in thus drawing them around him, and 
 in the opportunity it afforded of speaking to them 
 more familiarly and directly than the usual services 
 admitted of. Any little events that had occurred 
 in the parish, any misbehavior or misunderstand- 
 ing, might then be commented on or set right. It 
 was one of his constant practices to seize on any 
 passing circumstance, and turn it to profitable ac- 
 count. A few words thus spoken in season, how 
 good are they ! More especially, while standing 
 over the grave of one newly committed to the dust, 
 would he address the mourners around with suit- 
 able words of warning and consolation, and, while 
 he bid them not sorrow as those without hope, 
 exhort them to lose no time in seeking Him who is 
 the Resurrection and the Life, that when they too 
 must lie down in the grave they might lose their 
 life only to find it. On hearing of the death of a 
 man, whose sick-bed he had seldom quitted for 
 
SO RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 some days, he hastened to the cottage without loss 
 of time. ' Perhaps in the first moments of their 
 affliction I may be able to say something to the 
 mother and her children that may touch their 
 hearts ; ' and so, collecting them around him, he 
 sought to impress on them the warning which the 
 father's sudden illness and death had spoken to all. 
 
 " The misconduct of any one that he thought 
 well of was a real grief to him, and he would spare 
 no pains to bring the offender back to the right 
 path ; and his joy in the slightest sign of amend- 
 ment was proportionally great. A poor woman 
 once mourning over the ungodly disposition and 
 behavior of her only son, he cheered her by the 
 story of Monica's prayers for Augustine, and en- 
 couraged her to pray and not faint, in the hope 
 that God would hear her prayers and be pleased to 
 turn his heart. Any surly or ungracious behavior 
 towards himself was at all times a stimulus to 
 show a more than usual degree of loving-kindness, 
 and to endeavor, by continuance in courteous 
 words and deeds, to subdue the unkindly and harsh 
 feeling. In a road along which he frequently passed 
 there was a workman employed in its repair, who 
 met his gentle questions and observations with 
 gruff answers and sour looks. But as day after 
 day the persevering mildness of his words and 
 manner still continued, the rugged features of the 
 man gave way, and his tone assumed a far softer 
 character. 
 
 "The one pattern ever before his eyes was his 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 8 1 
 
 Lord and Master Jesus Christ ; the first question 
 he asked himself, * What would Jesus Christ have me 
 to do ? What would He have done in my place ? ' 
 Receiving once an almost insulting letter from a 
 person to whoru he had shown great kindness, he 
 sat down immediately to answer it ; and when the 
 extreme mildness of the reply was objected to, as 
 addressed to one undeserving of such forbearance 
 and meriting rather a rebuke, his answer was, ' I 
 am not aware that I deserve better treatment than 
 my Master Jesus Christ, and He was dealt with 
 more roughly than I am,' or words to this effect. 
 
 " On all Saints Days, and on Wednesdays and 
 Fridays in Lent, service was performed in church 
 at such an hour as might best suit the habits of the 
 laboring poor, and by shortening the number of 
 prayers it was brought within the limits of time 
 they could devote to such a purpose, between 
 their return home for dinner at eleven o'clock and 
 the going back to their work. Those who could 
 not attend he exhorted at the sound of the church- 
 bell to follow George Herbert's rule, and, while in 
 the field, to worship their God in heart and mind. 
 On these occasions he was wont to explain the 
 epistle or gospel, and in a few words to give such 
 instruction as the time admitted of ; and his people 
 often said they learnt much at such seasons. In 
 the last year of his stay at Alton he also adopted 
 the plan on a Sunday of commenting on the Old 
 Testament lesson in the morning service, as there 
 was then commonly no sermon except in the after- 
 
 4* F 
 
82 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 noon ; and this exposition he used to call ' Pos- 
 tilling.' 
 
 " From his first coming to Alton-Barnes it was 
 an earnest wish of his heart to do something for 
 the neglected people of Alton-Priors, who were as 
 sheep having no shepherd. Once in three weeks 
 only did a clergyman from a distance come to per- 
 form service in the church, and in the intermediate 
 time no notice whatever was taken of any of the 
 parishioners. His desire was to have had the 
 church of Alton-Priors, which was very much out 
 of repair and the larger of the two, fitted up so as 
 to hold the joint congregations of the two villages, 
 and to have had the two parishes united in one. 
 But this could not be effected without the concur- 
 rence of the proprietor, and the passing of an Act 
 of Parliament for the purpose. He therefore per- 
 formed the duty alternately, morning and evening, 
 in the two churches, the same congregation attend- 
 ing in both ; and finding the church in Alton-Barnes 
 too small to contain the additional number who 
 attended from Alton-Priors, he had the arch com- 
 municating with the chancel considerably widened, 
 so as to give space for additional pews, and admit 
 those who sate in the chancel to hear and see, from 
 which they were before shut out. For the equality 
 shown to the inhabitants of both parishes, in this 
 and other respects, they ever expressed the most 
 grateful feeling. 
 
 " In the vale of Pewsey the parishes are nearly all 
 small and closely adjoining each other, and as every 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 83 
 
 church has its own minister, the number of clergy 
 is proportionally great. It seemed desirable that 
 these clerical brethren should form some closer 
 bond of union than the common mode of visiting 
 presented, and meet together more expressly for 
 purposes connected with their calling. He there- 
 fore united with his brother clergy in forming a 
 clerical society, one object which he felt to be 
 specially needed being the removal of prejudices 
 and lessening of party feeling in the minds of all 
 towards each other, and the enabling those who 
 were young in their profession to benefit by the 
 experience of their elders. Many difficulties arose 
 from the difference of opinion that prevailed among 
 the members as to the propriety of beginning their 
 meetings with prayer, and as to the nature of that 
 preparatory prayer. The High Churchmen were, 
 strongly prejudiced against any use of prayer on 
 such occasions, from a notion of its likeness to dis- 
 senting societies ; the zealous Evangelicals urged 
 the advantages of extempore prayer as fitted for the 
 peculiar circumstances of the time or place, and 
 they resolutely refused to agree in the formation of 
 any society for clerical purposes that did not adopt 
 some form of worship at its beginning. The middle 
 course that Augustus took was to propose the selec- 
 tion of suitable prayers out of the Liturgy, alleging 
 that they might in this way approach as nearly as 
 the spirit of the times would admit of to the habits 
 of the olden times, when divine service used daily to 
 be performed in the church. After much discus- 
 
84 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 sion, and the lapse of a year, in which all parties 
 drew nearer together, the society was formed, 
 chiefly through his instrumentality, upon the plan 
 he had suggested, and it has since continued in 
 brotherly harmony. On this and other occasions 
 Augustus would often say his was ' Halfway 
 House.' There were few things which made him 
 more angry than to hear people use the expression 
 of 'going too far' when applied to religion. ' Too 
 far ! when shall we go too far in serving and lov- 
 ing God, in being made like Christ ? ' Disliking 
 all illiberality of feeling, he was more particularly 
 annoyed by it when expressed towards those who, 
 acting from religious motives or scruples, differed in 
 opinion or manner of life from others. In such 
 cases above all others he thought the motive hal- 
 lowed the act so far as to entitle it to be regarded 
 with respect and permitted in charity, even if not 
 altogether consistent with the strictest judgment 
 and most enlightened wisdom. 
 
 "In earlier years he had been ever forward to 
 assert the cause of truth, and fight manfully under 
 its banner whenever he thought it was opposed ; 
 nor was he slow to wield his sword for liberty or 
 justice. In truth, he seemed to be the champion 
 of righteousness under every form, and in society 
 was consequently often engaged in discussion and 
 argument. From the active spring of his own mind 
 he was usually foremost in stirring up conversation 
 in others, and drawing out their thoughts by the 
 vigor of his own. But latterly he became much 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 85 
 
 more reserved and silent in society. This arose 
 partly from an increasing dislike to any thing like 
 controversy, and from the consciousness of how 
 much his own opinions differed from others. On 
 subjects both of religion and politics, there was in 
 the prevailing mind of the age, so much in the one 
 of party feeling and sectarian spirit, and in the 
 other so little of enlarged and sound wisdom look- 
 ing beyond the expediency of the present moment 
 and temporal good, that he found it difficult to 
 sympathize in the views of many whom he re- 
 spected. 
 
 " While, however, he censured the error of others, 
 he was sure to spare and excuse the holder of 
 it. In points of personal conduct, too, he had the 
 rare faculty of hating the sin and loving the sinner. 
 His charity and liberality of mind was not the kind- 
 hearted easiness of a naturally sweet disposition, 
 reluctant to find fault and tolerant of evil. In him 
 a severe love of truth and uprightness, a hatred of 
 all iniquity, was blended closely with his feeling 
 of kindness and fear of giving pain. An instance of 
 cruelty, of oppression, or of falsehood, would make 
 a change pass over his countenance ; his whole soul 
 seemed to revolt at the mention of any unkindness 
 or ungodliness ; and if in any case an opportunity 
 occurred where he could hope to convince any one 
 of the evil of his way, no false delicacy to the person 
 concerned, nor indulgence to his own feelings, hin- 
 dered him from speaking the whole truth. He was 
 ready to administer the stern rebuke no less than 
 
86 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the gentle encouragement, at his Master's call. But, 
 in speaking about others, the smallest spark of good 
 was observed and dwelt upon, while every contrary 
 
 . principle that was manifested would be passed over 
 in silence. Even in speaking of those with whom 
 
 , he was most nearly connected, not a word of blame 
 would ever pass his lips. Any extenuation of miscon- 
 duct that could be urged, any allowances that could 
 be made, were brought forward, and it was often only 
 by the joy he expressed at the slightest sign of im- 
 provement, that it could be known how much he had 
 felt its need, and how earnestly he had desired it. 
 
 Not more than others I deserve, 
 Yet God hath given me more,' 
 
 were words that expressed not only his feelings on 
 one particular occasion, but the prevailing disposi- 
 tion of his mind. Continual expressions of thank- 
 fulness would burst from his lips, not as mere words 
 denoting, as they often do, only a feeling of satis- 
 faction in the blessings he was enjoying, but they 
 were the outpourings of a heart full of thankful love 
 to Him who bestowed the blessings, to the Giver 
 not only of the great gifts, but of every little daily 
 comfort of life ; and this, his gratitude, sprang up 
 from the deepest sense of his own unworthiness of 
 such mercies. 
 
 " Perfect contentedness with what was appointed 
 for him, and deep thankfulness for all the good 
 things given him, marked his whole being. In 
 deciding what should be done, or where he should 
 go, or how he should act, the question" of how far it 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 8? 
 
 might suit his own convenience, or be agreeable 
 to his own feelings, was kept entirely in the back- 
 ground till all other claims were satisfied. It was 
 not apparently at the dictate of duty and reason 
 that these thoughts were suppressed and made 
 secondary ; it seemed to be the first, the natural 
 feeling in him, to seek first the things of others and 
 to do the will of God, and to look at his own inter- 
 est in the matter as having comparatively nothing 
 to do with it. And so great a dread had he of 
 being led to any selfish or interested views, that he 
 would find consolation in having no family to in- 
 clude in the consideration, ' Had I had children, 
 I might have fancied it an excuse for worldly-mind- 
 edness and covetousness.' His children truly were 
 his fellow-men, those who were partakers of the 
 same flesh and blood, redeemed by the same 
 Saviour, heirs of the same heavenly inheritance. 
 For them he was willing to spend and be spent, for 
 them he was covetous of all the good that might be 
 obtained. A friend, on looking over his account- 
 book, and seeing how comparatively large an 
 amount of his expenditure had been directed to the 
 benefit of others, suggested that one head of his 
 yearly summary should be entitled l Public Spirit.' 
 He was never weary in well-doing, never thought 
 he had done enough, never feared doing too much. 
 Those small things, which by so many are esteemed 
 as unnecessary, as not worth while, these were the 
 very things he took care not to leave undone. It 
 was not rendering a service when it came in his 
 
88 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. - 
 
 way, when it occurred in the natural course of 
 things that he should do it ; it was going out of the 
 way to help others, taking every degree of trouble 
 and incurring personal inconvenience for the sake 
 of doing good, of giving pleasure even in slight 
 things, that distinguished his benevolent activity 
 from the common forms of it. The love that dwelt 
 in him was ready to be poured forth on whomsoever 
 needed it, and, being a free-will offering, it looked 
 for no return, and felt no obligation conferred. 
 
 " In society he did not choose out the persons 
 most congenial to his own tastes to converse with. 
 If there was any one more dull and uninviting 
 than others, he would direct his attention to that 
 one, and while he raised the tone of conversation 
 by leading such persons to subjects of interest, it 
 was done in so gentle, so unobtrusive a manner, 
 that it seemed as if the good came from them, and 
 instead of being repelled and disheartened by his 
 superior knowledge, they would feel encouraged at 
 finding they were less ignorant than they had sup- 
 posed themselves to be. How often has the stiff- 
 ness, the restraint of a small party been dispelled by 
 the loving manner and words with which he would 
 seem to draw all together, and endeavor to elicit 
 the good in all ; and though by nature excitable, 
 and therefore dependent on outward circumstances 
 more than many, there was ever an inward spring 
 of active thought which made his conversation 
 quite as lively and energetic, when alone with his 
 family, as when called into play by the exertion of 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 89 
 
 entertaining guests. Yet, although he enjoyed 
 society, he liked to be often alone, he liked to 
 walk alone, to be in his study alone. There 
 seemed to be greater freedom for his mind when 
 thus without companions, and he would utter aloud 
 what was passing in his mind, or the words he was 
 composing for his sermons." 
 
 The portrait which the loving wife began to 
 paint breaks off here, is left unfinished, and as it 
 was left by her hands, so must it remain ; no one 
 could venture to retouch it. 
 
 Only a mile from Alton, separated from it by the 
 vast undulation of treeless corn-fields, another little 
 village called Stanton clusters around its church 
 and a few elm-fringed meadows. Hither, soon 
 after the Hares were settled at Alton, George Ma- 
 jendie came as rector ; and the two clergymen 
 were soon united in the closest and most affection- 
 ate intimacy. Scarcely a day passed without their 
 meeting. 
 
 " When I came to reside in Wiltshire," wrote Mr. 
 Majendie, several years after, " I found that Mr. 
 Hare was my nearest clerical neighbor. I was not 
 at that time personally acquainted with him, but I 
 had known his character at Oxford as a man of 
 talent and of considerable literary acquirements. I 
 soon became intimate with him, and then found 
 that he was not only an accomplished scholar, but 
 that his heart was in his work as a minister of 
 Christ, and that he had truly devoted his life to 
 the care of those few sheep in the wilderness ' to 
 
90 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 whom he had been sent as a shepherd. Like 
 George Herbert, he ' knew the ways of learning, but 
 declined them for the service of his master Jesus.' 
 He was not only ready to do good to the poor 
 around him on Christian principle, but he seemed 
 to identify himself with them, to study their char- 
 acters, to enter into their feelings, literally, 'to 
 weep with those that wept, and rejoice with those 
 that rejoiced.' I have often heard him express his 
 admiration of the strength and fulness of their 
 homely phrases, some of which he loved to intro- 
 duce into his sermons. 
 
 " I shall never forget his apearance at the lectures 
 he used to give to poor men on Wednesday even- 
 ings. The place was a small barn on his own prem- 
 ises, and the many holes in the boarding, but ill 
 covered with sackcloth, admitted the cold air freely. 
 There was a long table reaching from one end of 
 the room to the other, and on each side of the 
 table sat the smock-frocked audience, most of 
 them old men, each of those that could read with 
 his Bible before him. Mr. Hare himself stood at 
 the head of the table, to distribute to them the 
 bread of life. His great coat was closely buttoned 
 up to the chin, and a large woollen wrapper covered 
 him up to the lower lip. His tall figure was erect, 
 his expressive countenance full of animation, his 
 face and figure were not unlike those of Mr. Pitt. 
 A drawing-room lamp, strangely in contrast with 
 the scene, shed a strong light upon the wrinkled 
 and weather-beaten faces of the villagers. 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 9 1 
 
 "When Augustus Hare heard of any kind or 
 noble action performed by another person, I have 
 seen him suddenly start up from his chair, with a 
 strong exclamation of delight uttered in his shrill 
 tone, and hurriedly pace the room, rubbing his 
 hands with glee. He really felt ' a luxury in doing 
 good.' I remember being present at a supper which 
 he gave to some old men in the barn already men- 
 tioned, where he assisted in waiting on the poor 
 people, evidently enjoying the repast more than 
 those who partook of it ; and when the entertain- 
 ment was over, and he returned to his own fireside, 
 his first act was to run up to Mrs. Hare and kiss 
 her, with an ecstasy of benevolence too big to be 
 repressed. 
 
 " He seemed always to think all others better 
 than himself. One day I heard him speaking of 
 one of the poor men of his parish, and I asked 
 whether he was a good man. ' Oh, yes, he is a 
 good man, a much better man than I am.' On 
 another occasion I remember his saying, 'What 
 we can do for God is little or nothing, but we must 
 do our little nothings for his glory.' 
 
 " His whole religion was full of affection. He 
 was not a mere orthodox divine, defining with the 
 closest precision the doctrines which he taught, but 
 every doctrine was mixed up in his soul with love, 
 with love to God and man. It may be said of his 
 creed, 
 
 ' Of hope and virtue and affection full.' 
 
 I well remember one day his laying his hand upon 
 
92 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 his Bible, and saying, with an indescribable look of 
 reverence and delight, ' Oh, this dear book ! ' On 
 another occasion he spoke of it as * God's great 
 Medicine Book, full of recipes for every spiritual 
 malady.' " 
 
 After Augustus Hare was taken from among his 
 people, one of the residents in Alton-Priors wrote : 
 M I can truly say that the glimpse of his figure 
 approaching our home made my heart leap with joy, 
 and never did he leave it without impressing some 
 valuable truth on my mind. Living, too, as I did, 
 in a parish not his own, but one to which he vol- 
 untarily and gratuitously gave a pastor's care and 
 superintendence, I felt doubly grateful, both in my 
 own behalf and that of my fellow-parishioners ; and 
 well do I remember on one occasion, when sitting 
 alone with him in his study, the striking answer he 
 made to my expression of thanks for his kindness 
 in coming daily into our parish to spend an hour by 
 the sick-bed of Charles Gale, a poor man, who, I 
 believe, through his instrumentality, to have died in 
 peace with God through Christ : ' God has given 
 me an abundance,' he said, ' of which I deserve 
 nothing, and doubtless for wise reasons has with- 
 held from me the blessing of children ; and if I 
 never crossed that little brook which separates what 
 you call your parish from my parish, I think it very 
 likely that Jesus Christ would say to me in the 
 Last Day you do not belong to my parish! 
 
 " Amongst others, I believe that he was the 
 first instrument under God in awakening serious 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 93 
 
 thoughts for her soul in Jane Jennings. She told me 
 that that which first made her feel a sorrow for sin 
 was a sermon which he preached in Alton-Priors 
 church. She said, I was standing by the door, and as 
 he was earnestly asking us what we came to church 
 for, whether we prayed with our hearts, whether 
 we prayed at home and with our families, I felt 
 as I had never done before, and when I went home, 
 where I never prayed at all, I told our folks I was 
 sure we were living in a very different way to what 
 we ought to live, and that it cut me to the heart to 
 see our minister laboring so much to teach us, and 
 that we paid no attention to his words.' And then 
 she added, ' You cannot think how anxiously I looked 
 through the sermon-books afterwards, to see if that 
 sermon was amongst them, and when I found it I 
 was so very glad.' She also told me that soon after 
 this Mr. Hare made a rule that before the baptism of 
 any child its parents should go to him for advice and 
 instruction, and it so happened that Jane and her 
 husband were the first summoned for this purpose. 
 She said she had never before dreaded any thing so 
 much in her life, having been told by her neighbors 
 she would be puzzled with hard questions. Her min- 
 ister saw by her trembling how frightened she was, 
 and, as he kindly put a chair for her in the study, 
 said, ' Don't be frightened, or think I keep a large 
 dog to bark and jump out at you.' But his words 
 afterwards made too deep an impression ever to be 
 forgotten, for, turning to the parents, he said with 
 much solemnity, ' Do you wish your child to be- 
 
94 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 come an angel in heaven, or a devil in hell?' ' If 
 I were going to give your child a large present in 
 money, say twenty pounds perhaps, you would be 
 ready and willing to thank me ; how much more 
 then should you thank God for allowing you to 
 bring your child to the font at baptism, where He 
 promises to give him his Holy Spirit, and make 
 him happy for ever, if you will only heartily and 
 earnestly pray for his blessing ! After these words 
 (which first awakened in the mother's heart that 
 feeling of responsibility she now so largely pos- 
 sesses for her children) he knelt down with them, 
 earnestly praying both for them and their child, 
 and Jane said to me, * God knows, and at the Last 
 Day I shall know too, but. I always think that 
 prayer was answered, for none of my other six 
 children ever asked me the questions which this 
 little boy does, for always, when I have him 
 alone with me, he begins talking of Jesus, and ask- 
 ing what he must do to please Him, and when 
 he can go to see Him.' 
 
 " When Prudence Tasker, who had been one of 
 the first received into his newly formed Sunday 
 school, was seized with violent illness, how ten- 
 derly did Mr. Hare daily visit her dying-bed, 
 obtaining for her the advice of an eminent physi- 
 cian in addition to that of the village doctor, often 
 himself administering her medicines, applying 
 her leeches himself, and trying to overcome the 
 repugnance she felt to bleeding by telling her it 
 was her * pastor ' who desired it ; and how often 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 95 
 
 since have her parents dwelt upon the prayers 
 which he offered up in that little chamber of 
 death ! 
 
 " I remember David King telling me once that 
 nothing ever 'cut' him so much as the words 
 which Mr. Hare preached after his recovery from 
 illness ; and that once while working in his garden, 
 his minister, whilst talking to him, in order to illus- 
 trate the wonderful love of Christ in taking man's 
 fallen nature upon him, asked David how he should 
 like to become a toad, convincing him thereby 
 that however loathsome such a change would be to 
 him, yet it was nothing compared to that which 
 the Son of God underwent when He laid aside his 
 glory." 
 
 Augustus Hare was perhaps the first village 
 preacher (there have been many since) who did 
 not scruple in his sermons to speak to his people 
 in the familiar language of ordinary life, and who 
 made use of apt illustrations drawn from the sim- 
 ple surroundings in which his people lived. It is 
 probably from this connection with outward and 
 tangible things that so many of his words still live 
 in the memories of his congregation as vividly as 
 when they were spoken. The following are in- 
 stances of this practical teaching : 
 
 "The road of life is not a turnpike road. It is a 
 path which every one must find out for himself, by the 
 help of such directions as God has given us ; and there 
 are so many other paths crossing the true one in all 
 quarters, and the wrong paths are so well beaten, and 
 
g6 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the true path in places is so faintly marked, so many- 
 persons too are always going the wrong way, and so 
 few are walking straight along the right, that between 
 the number of paths to puzzle him, and the number of 
 wrong examples to lead him astray, a man, if he does 
 not take continual heed, is in great danger of turning 
 into a wrong path, almost without perceiving it. You 
 know how hard it is for a stranger to find his way over 
 the downs, especially if the evening is dark and foggy. 
 Yet there the man is at liberty to make out the path as 
 well as he can. No one tries to mislead him. But in the 
 paths of life there are always plenty of companions 
 at work to mislead the Christian, to say nothing of his 
 own evil passions and appetites, which all pull him out 
 of the way. One neighbor says to him, 'Take this 
 road ; it is almost as straight as the other, and much 
 pleasanter.' Another says, 'Take this road; it is a 
 short cut, and will save you a world of trouble.' A 
 third says, 'Walk part of the way with us for com- 
 pany's sake ; you cannot be far wrong if you keep 
 with us ; at worst, it is only crossing back into your 
 narrow lonely path if you don't like our way after try- 
 ing it.' A fourth cries to him, 'What makes you so 
 particular ? Do you fancy you know the road to heaven 
 better than anybody else ? We are all going there, we 
 hope, as well as you, though we do not make such 
 a fuss about it. Is it a wonder that, with so many bad 
 advisers and bad examples to turn him astray, with so 
 many wrong paths to puzzle him, with so many evil 
 passions as man has naturally pulling him out of -the 
 straight and narrow path, is it a wonder, I say, that, 
 with all these things to lead them wrong, men should 
 so often go wrong ? It is no wonder : nay, were it not 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 97 
 
 that God's Word is a lantern to our feet and a light to 
 our path, were it not for the Spirit of God crying to us, 
 * This is the right way,' when we turn aside to the right 
 hand or to the left, we should all of us go wrong 
 always." 
 
 " If a man had to receive a legacy by going to Bristol, 
 what good would it do him to set out on his way thither 
 unless he went all the way ? Would he get any thing 
 by going as far as Melksham, or even as far as Bath, 
 unless he went still further ? The legacy is to be paid 
 at Bristol, and nowhere else ; and if the man is lazy or 
 fickle enough to stop before he gets to Bristol, not a 
 sixpence of it will he receive. Therefore we must per- 
 severe unto the journey's end if we would have a share 
 in Christ's great legacy." 
 
 "Has the increase of Godliness amongst us kept 
 pace with the increase of our Bibles ? Are we as much 
 better as we ought to be with our more abundant means ? 
 Has the fresh seed scattered over the land produced a 
 proportionate increase in the harvest ? These are very . 
 important questions. For if the Lord of the farm, if 
 the great Sower, does not see the promise of a crop in 
 some measure answering to the good seed He has 
 bestowed on the land, He will be sure to ask, * Why is 
 this ? Did I not sow good seed in the fields of England ? 
 Then how come they to be so full of tares, so full of 
 thistles, so full of poppies? How is it that in some 
 parts of the farm I even see the foxglove and the deadly 
 nightshade ? Useless weeds, gaudy weeds, weeds that 
 overrun the ground, even poisonous weeds, I see in 
 it But I see not the plenty of good wheat which I 
 5 g 
 
98 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ought to find, and which alone can be stowed in my 
 barn. Why has the crop failed so shamefully ? ' " 
 
 " How often do we see the sinner, perched on the 
 dunghill of his vices, clapping his wings in self-ap- 
 plause, and fancying himself a much grander creature 
 than the poor Christian, who all the while is soaring on 
 high like a lark, and mounting on his way to heaven ? " 
 
 " The great plenty of Bibles and Testaments which 
 God has given us in this land makes us, I fear, more 
 neglectful than we ought to be of our Prayer-books, 
 especially of that part of the Prayer-book which contains 
 the Epistles and Gospels. Now this is just the same 
 kind of mistake as if a man, because he had turnips 
 and potatoes in his fields, were to neglect sowing any 
 in his garden. The turnips and potatoes raised in gar- 
 dens are generally of a choicer kind. So it is with the 
 little portions of the Epistles and Gospels which are 
 selected to be read in the Communion Service. They 
 are like so many choice plants culled out of the New 
 Testament for some useful lesson of doctrine or practice." 
 
 " Do not think it enough if you learn to spell, and 
 to read, and to say the words of Scripture, but seek to 
 learn the truths of Scripture. Do as the bees do. A 
 bee, when it sees a flower, does not fly round and round 
 it, and sip it, and then off again, like the foolish, idle 
 butterflies ; it settles on the flower and sucks the honey 
 out of it. So should you when you come to one of the 
 beautiful parables which Jesus spake, or to one of the 
 miracles which Jesus did ; you should do as the bees 
 do, you should settle your thoughts on what you read, 
 and try to suck the honey out of it. But why do I speak 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. 99 
 
 of the parables and miracles ? Almost every verse of 
 the New testament has its honey. Almost every verse 
 contains a spiritual truth fit to nourish some soul or 
 other." 
 
 " You can no more see a Christian grow than you can 
 see the corn grow. But you can all see whether it has 
 grown by comparing it with what it was two months 
 back. So may you discover whether you have advanced 
 in grace." 
 
 " Every thing which God has set apart in any way for 
 his own and put his mark on, every thing which in any 
 way belongs more particularly to Him, his word, his 
 ordinances, his house, his people, are things which 
 God has cleansed, therefore we must not call them com- 
 mon. He has set them apart for his own service ; He 
 has fenced them off, as it were, from the waste of the 
 world, and has enclosed them for his own use. Hence 
 there is the same sort of difference between them 
 and all merely worldly and common things as there is 
 between a garden and Salisbury Plain. No one who 
 knows how to behave himself would bring a horse into 
 a garden, or walk over the strawberry beds, or trample 
 down the flowers. But in riding from here to Salisbury 
 everybody would feel himself at liberty, while crossing 
 the downs, to gallop over the turf at pleasure. Well, the 
 same difference which there is between common down 
 and a cultivated garden, the same is there also between 
 worldly days, worldly books, worldly names, worldly peo- 
 ple, and God's day, God's book, God's name, and God's 
 people. The former are common, and may be treated 
 as such ; the latter are- not common, because God has 
 taken them to Himself, and brought them within the 
 
IOO RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 limits of his sanctuary, and thrown the safeguard of his 
 holiness around them." 
 
 " Many of you can lift a sack of wheat, and can carry 
 it some little way. But think of being condemned to 
 walk from here to Devizes, or rather from here to Bath, 
 with a sack of wheat on your shoulders every day for a 
 month together. How soon would the stoutest man 
 among you break down under such a load ! He might 
 contrive to stagger on a little way, but his strength before 
 long would fail him, and if he did not drop his load it 
 would crush him. Now sin when a man is in his 
 right senses, .when he knows whither he ought to be 
 going is a weight on the soul, and presses it down, 
 just as a weight on the back presses down the body." 
 
 " The religion of Jesus Christ is altogether a prac- 
 tical thing. Just consider how we are taught any thing 
 else that is practical. It is not by hearing or reading 
 about making shoes that a man becomes a shoemaker, 
 but by trying to make them." 
 
 " The means, the exercises appointed by our Saviour 
 whereby we are to become holy and godly, are his sacra- 
 ments, prayers, public and private, and the read- 
 ing and teaching of his holy Word. Still the means are 
 not the end ; the road which leads to London is not 
 London." 
 
 Nothing seems a more suitable close to this chap- 
 ter of general reminiscences of Augustus Hare's 
 life at his beloved Alton than the following note, 
 written Feb. 19, 1832, by one who was afterwards 
 his sister-in-law, Lucy A. Hare : 
 
HOME PORTRAITURE. IOI 
 
 " I am just come up to bed, dearest Mia, and it comes 
 into my mind to copy for you first a passage I met with 
 in a sermon of Jeremy Taylor's. Every Sunday even 
 ing I settle myself in a corner, with a book, trying to 
 shut my eyes to all without. Often comes a short di- 
 gression, during which I am fancying all you and the 
 Aug. are doing. I hear you sing the evening hymn, 
 kneel with you to prayers, end with praying God to 
 bless you both, and then return my attention to the 
 book. This evening I met with the following passage, 
 and send it you privately, thinking that you may per- 
 haps find as good a likeness for it in somebody living 
 as in the worthy Knight, Sir G. Dalstone : 
 
 " ' For God was pleased to invest him with a marvel- 
 lous sweet nature, which is certainly to be reckoned as 
 one half of the grace of God, because a good nature, 
 being the relics and remains of that shipwreck which 
 Adam made, is the proper and immediate disposition to 
 holiness, as the corruption of Adam was to disobedience 
 and peevish counsels. A good nature will not upbraid 
 the more imperfect person, will not deride the ignorant, 
 will not reproach the erring man, will not smite sinners 
 on the face, will not despise the penitent. A good nat- 
 ure is apt to forgive injuries, to pity the miserable, 
 to rescue the oppressed, to make every one's condition as 
 tolerable as he can, and so would he ; for as when good- 
 nature is heightened by the grace of God, that which 
 was natural becomes now spiritual, so these actions which 
 were pleasing and useful to men, when they derive from 
 a new principle of grace, they become pleasant in the 
 eyes of God, then obedience to the laws is Duty 
 to God, Justice is Righteousness, Bounty becomes 
 Graciousness, and Alms is Charity." 
 
VIL 
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 
 
 "The happiest periods of history are not those of which 
 we hear the most : in the same manner as in the little world 
 of man's soul, the most saintly spirits are often existing in 
 those who have never distinguished themselves as authors, 
 or left any memorial of themselves to be the theme of the 
 world's talk, but who have led an interior angelic life, hav- 
 ing borne their sweet blossoms unseen, like the young lily 
 in a sequestered vale, on the banks of a limpid stream." 
 Broadstone of Honor. 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 " ALTON-BARNES, Oct. 15, 1829. Are you not 
 ** impatient to hear of our first beginning? We 
 dined at Woodhay at one o'clock, and left it immediately 
 afterwards, not without some regret after the many happy 
 days we have spent there. At half -past five we landed at 
 our own door, where Mary's smiling face was ready to 
 greet us. You have already, I dare say, anticipated what 
 I am about to say, that we found ourselves less uncom- 
 fortable than we expected. The carpets were laid down, 
 the beds put up, though, to be sure, there were neither 
 bolsters nor pillows, and there was a strong smell of 
 paint ; but we took refuge in the drawing-room, where it 
 does not penetrate, and with the one table and couple of 
 chairs Miss Crowe left us we managed very well. These, 
 with the piano, were our sole stock of furniture till to- 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 103 
 
 day, when the arrival of fourteen packages has given us 
 a day's hard work in the barn, the result of which is that 
 I am sitting in as comfortable a drawing-room as I could 
 wish to see or sit in. 
 
 "To-day has been beautiful, and before we began 
 our morning's work we took an exploring walk and after 
 wading through a bed of mortar we did get to a dry walk 
 up the downs. Our great object is always where to find 
 a place tolerably dry for our walks, and our first errand 
 to Devizes has been to beg the shoemaker to come and 
 measure us for waterproof shoes. In spite, however, of 
 its wet, Alton looks very pretty, the tints of the trees so 
 rich, with the background of the hills, and the creepers 
 in front of the house cluster in at the windows quite after 
 my heart's desire. There are many little reforms wanted 
 in the way of making bells ring and windows shut ; but 
 we shall not do any thing beyond these needful things at 
 present. Our gardener's name is Gideon, and his dress 
 a brown fur cap, a short drab jacket, and blue plush 
 breeches reaching half-way down his legs. He and all 
 the people here talk such a dialect, I can hardly under- 
 stand them. I do so much enjoy the uninterrupted quiet, 
 and it seems as if, in fact, we were now for the first time 
 really married. How little difference much or little money 
 makes, except in the scale of things, in a small house ; 
 we are so much more amply supplied with common 
 comforts than many people are in large ones." 
 
 "Oct 20. A week has done wonders. The bell- 
 hangers have put in order all the bells and locks, chimney- 
 sweepers have done their work, and a carpenter has filled 
 up the holes and crevices in floors and wainscoting which 
 let in so much air. You are quite right in not wasting any 
 compassion upon me ; in short, could you see me in the 
 
104 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 evening reading Coleridge's * Friend ' with Augustus, or 
 playing to amuse him, or watch us reading over some 
 of his old letters, you would not think we were much 
 harassed by business. We have made some acquaint- 
 ance in the parish j but the cottages are so low that I 
 fully expect every time that Augustus will break his head 
 against the beams. A school is a matter of great diffi- 
 culty. Not a person can we find either here or in Great 
 Alton, as they call Alton-Priors, who seems fit to teach 
 a school, and the way in which the great girls last Sunday 
 attempted merely a spelling-book lesson was lamentable. 
 However, they are all eager to belong to ' Mrs. Hare's 
 school,' and, I daresay, we shall contrive something for 
 them. On Sunday, as there is only one church-service, 
 it leaves a long time for them ; but the boys even on that 
 day are out 'shepherding.' 
 
 " We never think or speak of the will, or any thing con- 
 cerning it. We have such delightful days ; we go up 
 ' Old Adam ' daily, the view is so beautiful, the air so 
 bracing. We shall have ten times more pleasure in see- 
 ing things grow before our eyes into comfort than if we 
 had found them so. We are going to visit the Miss 
 Hares at Millard's Hill, and I already hear my own 
 laments over leaving Alton." 
 
 "Millar a? s Hill, Nov. 5. My school on Sunday 
 mounted up from three to twenty-three, and some very 
 nice girls, and all seeming very happy to be taught ; so I 
 had them in the afternoon in the usual church hours, and 
 made the bigger girls teach the little ones their letters. 
 One of them is called Charity Begood. I do not remem- 
 ber any other events before I left our dear little home. I 
 left Mary to superintend carpet-making and cleaning, &c, 
 and also not to shock the aunts with a notion of my 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 105 
 
 being a fine lady. It is a very pretty drive all the way 
 here, about thirty miles, a delightful house, capitally 
 furnished and thoroughly comfortable. They were de- 
 lighted to see us, and withal are so kind-hearted and 
 easy to talk to, that I do not dislike it as I expected. 
 Then they are charmed with me, because I always like 
 what gives least trouble. On Tuesday Aunt Marianne 
 took me on horseback to Longleat, a magnificent house 
 and beautiful park. Yesterday we went in their carriage 
 to Frome, where, being a manufactory of cloth, I wished 
 to buy a winter coat ; they directly insisted on giving me 
 one of the best cloth. In the evening they had a party, 
 and in order to induce two of the guests who sang well 
 to join, I sate down to the instrument, and was so nervous 
 I made shocking work ; however, they were quite satisfied 
 with my readiness. 
 
 "Alton, Nov. 12. You may guess how glad we were 
 to find ourselves back in our own little home, which 
 looked very comfortable. Every day something new 
 arises wanting repair or reform, and if we can weather 
 the storm of all the bills to be paid we shall do wonders. 
 I suppose we shall manage it ; but it is a near calculation 
 of comings-in and goings-out. How rich we shall seem 
 to be when we have nothing but regular housekeeping 
 going on ! . . . The days seem to fly so quick. The 
 retirement of Stoke was nothing to this, and the roads 
 are worse than ever. I suppose we shall not be fit com- 
 pany for anybody when we emerge into the world ; having 
 no new book, no paper but a country one, no link with 
 the outer world but the Athen<zum, which, they say, will 
 soon be given up, we shall become quite rusticated. 
 "Nov. 21. It is always easier to talk to a person 
 when fresh from reading their letter, and so I will begin 
 
 5* 
 
106 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 my letter just when I have enjoyed yours. Many little 
 things which I meant to say escape me when there is an 
 accumulation of things to tell, and you will have full 
 as much interest in what I have to say in the sameness 
 of our present life, as when there were events to record. 
 I suppose many would find it dull ; to me it certainly 
 seems less so than any part of my life ever has been, the 
 difference being that, instead of looking on and enduring 
 the present in expectation of what is to come, I regret 
 every day as it goes by ; but then of course all depends 
 upon the nature of one's companion. Now the activity 
 of mind which Augustus has prevents the stagnation 
 which in us, for instance, constant living together pro- 
 duces, so that there seems rather an increasing stock for 
 conversation than a lesser one, and he is just as much 
 excited and alive when there is nothing exterior to furnish 
 food for remark as in society. I believe there is a book- 
 club at Devizes, but we do not at all want to have re- 
 course to it, and I certainly prefer the having no such 
 temptation to idle reading at present. The reading a 
 little only of what is good, and that with great attention, 
 is particularly wholesome for me, whose habit has hitherto 
 been so much the contrary, and who from indolence have 
 got into so slovenly a way of understanding things. Our 
 evening's reading, you will be amused to hear, is some- 
 times Cicero's Orations, in which I look over as he trans- 
 lates, and shall get some idea of Latin. Coleridge's 
 1 Friend ' is our general book, however, which is hard to 
 understand occasionally, but I like it very much indeed. 
 Then, if we are not in a mood for such serious reading, 
 Landor's Dialogues come in, of which I have not heard 
 half yet. Then I make my objections, and he explain^. 
 There is some affectation in Landor's style, he leaves a 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 107 
 
 good deal to the imagination to supply, and it requires 
 some attention to find out the extreme nicety with which, 
 in all the little circumstances, he keeps to the character 
 of the age and speaker. But his words and sentences 
 are beautiful sometimes. When he tells a thing, he keeps 
 so much to what he says of Demosthenes, that he never 
 dwells upon that which must occur to the reader in con- 
 sequence of what has already been said ; and this gives 
 great strength to his language, which, with the delicacy 
 of his touches of feeling, I can admire greatly. In the 
 morning one chapter in the New Testament with the 
 Greek translated literally, and compared, one Gospel with 
 another, with references to commentaries, takes up some 
 time, which, with a walk, reading, and talking over letters, 
 lasts us generally till luncheon, and then there are always 
 orders to be given and workmen to be looked after. I 
 have many schemes of improvement in the flower-garden ; 
 and into the kitchen-garden I go with my head full of 
 Mawe ' Ought not the sea-kale to be covered up ? ' 
 and I feel much ashamed to be obliged to ask the names 
 of spinach, and endive, and celery, and to be told this is 
 not the time when such things can be had. We persevere 
 in going up the hill, a work really not of slight difficulty 
 in these frosty days when the ground is so very slippery, 
 and every step covers one's shoes with a galosh of mortar. 
 Many new air-holes for cold wind have been found out 
 in the last few days, and I think, like all small and old 
 houses, we shall find our rectory very cold. 
 
 " We have had several new visitors, and the consequen- 
 tial manners of some of them prepared us doubly to 
 appreciate Colonel Montagu Wroughton and his brother 
 Captain Montagu, who I only hope were as much pleased 
 with us as we were with them. 
 
108 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 "Dec. 5. At this moment Augustus is writing about 
 God's works having a middle, a point of perfection ; 
 about Jesus Christ being the middle of the world, the tree 
 of life in the midst of the garden. He always puts off 
 his sermon till Saturday, that it may not take up 
 more than its day ; whereas, if he began on Monday, it 
 would go on all the week. He began his visiting of the 
 sick a few evenings ago, when he went out after dinner 
 to read prayers by a sick woman. He durst not tell me 
 till he came back, knowing I should scold, as he had 
 only just recovered from his cold ; but he pleaded that 
 this would have been no reason against going out on the 
 devil's work, and that he could not eat his dinner from 
 hearing of her illness, and thinking that he had not been 
 to her." 
 
 In December Augustus Hare left his wife and 
 parish for a short time to visit his brother Julius at 
 Cambridge, the great object of his journey being 
 that he might fulfil his aunt's dying wish in per- 
 suading his brother to break off his engagement 
 to his cousin, Anna Maria Dashwood, which she 
 had strong reasons for disapproving. These rea- 
 sons Augustus affectionately and firmly urged to 
 Julius, and though he received his arguments with 
 great indignation at first, he was eventually con- 
 vinced of their justice, and the engagement was 
 ultimately broken off, though Julius always con- 
 tinued to be the most faithful and trusted friend 
 of his cousin. How bitter a sacrifice his renun- 
 ciation of this marriage was to him is told by his 
 letters written at this time. On that very day he 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. IO9 
 
 was preaching upon "The Law of Self-Sacrifice," 
 before the University. Here is the grand conclud- 
 ing passage of the sermon : 
 
 " We have seen that through every order of beings, in 
 things inanimate and things animate, in the natural and 
 in the spiritual world, in earth and in heaven, the law 
 of self-sacrifice prevails. Everywhere the birth of the 
 spiritual requires the death of the carnal. Everywhere 
 the husk must drop away, in order that the germ may 
 spring out of it. Everywhere, according to our Lord's 
 declaration, that which would save its life loses it, and 
 that which loses its life preserves it. And the highest 
 glory of the highest life is to be offered up a living sac- 
 rifice to God for the sake of our brethren. This is the 
 principle of life, which circulates through the universe, 
 and whereby all things minister to each other, the lowest 
 to the highest, the highest to the lowest. This is the 
 golden chain of love, whereby the whole creation is 
 bound to the throne of the Creator." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, Dec. 14. Having just seen my Augustus 
 into a farmer's gig which is to take him to meet the 
 coach (a distance of four and a half miles, which they 
 say will take an hour and a half, so you may judge of 
 the kind of roads), I must find consolation in writing to 
 you. He is to be away ten days, going on from London 
 to Cambridge to see Julius, and to hear him preach his 
 Commemoration Sermon. My heart is full at parting 
 with him, but I shall find plenty to do, and be very 
 comfortable whilst he is away, and am very glad he 
 should go. It is such a beautiful morning for his drive, 
 and will enable me to chase away every uncomfortable 
 
IIO RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 feeling at letting my tender bird out of its cage by the 
 clear air on Old Adam. 
 
 " I have had a good deal of talk with Augustus about 
 his ideas on Inspiration. His notion is that in all the 
 mere detail of facts, narrative of events, &c, there is 
 not a verbal inspiration ; for instance, that it required 
 no help of the Spirit to give the names of David's thirty 
 captains, nor does it in the least signify whether one 
 was left out or miscalled ; that in every thing that was 
 of the slightest importance to the conveying the knowl- 
 edge of God, his scheme respecting men, precepts, 
 doctrines, there the Spirit dictated, and as such we 
 must receive it ; but the mere historical detail he thinks 
 cannot, with all its variations and inconsistencies, be 
 dwelt upon as every word inspired by God, without 
 incurring the difficulties which this over-demand on 
 people's belief so often creates. In the Gospels, St. 
 Matthew mentions two blind men, St. Mark one ; this 
 proves they were not copied one from the other ; but if 
 verbal accuracy is required, as it must be if inspired 
 verbally, here would be a difficulty. In the Christian 
 revelation more especially, which is in this peculiarity 
 distinguished from the Jewish, he thinks the spirit and 
 not the letter should be attended to throughout. By 
 prayer, by singleness of heart, he thinks that he who 
 does the Will will never fail to know of the Doctrine, 
 and to distinguish between what may be rested on with 
 faith, and what may be deemed unimportant, but which 
 being made too prominent may become a stumbling- 
 block. I have not time to enter further into this ar- 
 gument, or into another we had yesterday about the 
 heathen philosophers, how far the truth was re- 
 vealed to them indirectly through communication with 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. Ill 
 
 the Jews, and how far the expression ' God has not left 
 Himself without a witness' may in a spiritual sense 
 refer to them, how their theories, without a better 
 foundation, fell to atheism amongst the Romans, till 
 religion rose again with a reviving power in Christi- 
 anity. 
 
 " In his sermon yesterday Augustus told a story 
 about fourteen children who were poisoned from eating 
 herbs at Luneville, in consequence of a great famine, 
 and whose funerals he himself saw in passing through 
 and so on to the Bread of Life. He brought in too 
 my old woman at Stoke, who learnt the prayers from 
 hearing them at church. The interest excited is great, 
 and probably all the more from the novelty." 
 
 Maria Hare to Augustus W. Hare. 
 
 "Alton, Dec. 14, 1829. One might suppose that 
 nine or ten hours at Alton would not afford much food 
 for a letter, yet I begin to feel already as if I had a 
 great deal to talk about. First, there were the letters. 
 . . . Then, I set forth on my walk. I had such a de- 
 lightful ramble over the downs ; the sun shone so 
 bright, and the air was clear and reviving, and I pushed 
 on till I turned a point of the hill, and there sprawling 
 beneath me lay the great White Horse in all its chalky 
 glory. I would not go back ignominiously when so far, 
 so I went on, and soon planted my stick in the White 
 Horse's tail ! Far beneath in the hollow the sheep 
 were collected together, and the shepherd boy was 
 seated on his knoll of grass. What a time for medita- 
 tion ! no wonder the great poet of Israel was a shepherd, 
 or rather, to give the cause before the effect, vice versa. 
 I dare say, however, no very sublime thoughts are con- 
 
112 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ceived on the Wiltshire Downs, and I should fear the 
 mind was as inactive as the body in the boy I saw 
 stationed on the hill with that wide view all below him. 
 For myself, I do enjoy greatly the rambling about on 
 those green hills, and, forgetting that the sun was not 
 always so bright, I began to wonder that we had taken so 
 little advantage of such good turf and free air. About 
 three o'clock Mary came in to announce the arrival of the 
 live stock from Woodhay. . . . When I tell you that I 
 have had a talk with Becky King about the Sacrament, 
 I believe, I shall have completed the history of this, my 
 first day's solitude, in which.I have not had one moment 
 to spare, and been as happy as I can be without my own 
 dearest husband. I feel so much difference from the 
 time when I was left at Woodhay. Here the change 
 from having you to having only my own thoughts and 
 books is far less striking, and I am never dull, though, 
 dearest, the arm-chair looks very empty, and the silence 
 is not so pleasant as the sound of the voice one loves." 
 
 "Dec. 1 6. Is it two whole days, dearest, since I 
 have talked with you, and nearly three since you went 
 away ? It has not seemed very long, and your Mia 
 has been very happy in her solitude, and does not feel 
 half as desolate here as she used to do in that great 
 house at Woodhay \ but then a good honest Christmas 
 fire is a much better companion than a make-believe 
 summer one, with winds and rain driving against the 
 windows. . . . 
 
 " I have just had my second talk with Becky King, 
 who told me she used to think the latter part of the 
 Catechism was l the biggest of nonsense] but that now she 
 knew better what it meant. It seems your reading the 
 latter part of the Communion Address encouraged her 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. II3 
 
 to come and ask questions, and it seems to have been 
 thought by some, as Mr. Crowe never read that part, 
 that it was your putting in. Poor woman ! she is beset 
 with fears and doubts, and had she fallen into the 
 hands of Methodists would soon have been in a state 
 of despondency. She said nothing had ever given her 
 the comfort that reading her Bible had ; and yet people 
 ask, What good can teaching to read do ? 
 
 " By this time, I suppose, the object of your mission 
 is come to a point. Would I could see you for one 
 minute through a telescope as you are talking with 
 Julius, and guess at the result. The best I can hope 
 for is, that if you fail, as I fear you must do, he may 
 succeed in convincing you that his judgment is not so 
 far wrong as you have been disposed to think it is. At 
 all events, I trust to the sincere affection which prompts 
 the one to censure and the other to grieve over that 
 censure, keeping your hearts open to the kindly feeling 
 which between such brothers should prevail in the midst 
 of disagreement. It is singular how it has hitherto 
 struggled through all the harshness of opposition, and 
 always succeeded in keeping uppermost. Let it still 
 do so, and all will be well. God be with you, and bless 
 you, my own dearest. Good night ! " 
 
 Augustus W. Hare to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Cambridge, Dec. 16. Julius has delivered his Com- 
 memoration Sermon manfully. It was on Self-sacrifice, 
 showing that throughout the universe, animate and inan- 
 imate, from God to the lowest living created thing, every 
 good thing that is done is done by self-sacrifice of some 
 kind or other. So instead of commemorating the de- 
 parted, he showed how alone things worthy of com- 
 
114 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 memoration could be accomplished ; and Bacon by his 
 maxims, and Newton by his life (both members of 
 Trinity), furnished him with examples most appropriate 
 to the subject and to the day. The great feature of the 
 beginning was an attack upon the Paley doctrines, which 
 debase virtue into a refined selfishness. But as the 
 sermon lasted an hour and a quarter, you may conceive 
 how impossible it is to give the darling Mia even the 
 slightest sketch of it. After service, we came back to 
 Julius's rooms, to be present at his distribution of the 
 college prizes for the year ; and almost more than in the 
 sermon did I delight in the readiness with which he said 
 something kind and gratifying and appropriate to almost 
 every man as he came to him in succession." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Dec. 20. I think I told you about Becky King, who 
 begged to talk to me about the Sacrament. She said 
 she had often wished but never dared to come. She 
 certainly affords an instance of God's Spirit working in 
 her. She seems to have met with no one likely to put 
 such thoughts into her head, has no cant or display, 
 but does seem really to feel that she is sinful, and that 
 she is unworthy to come before God. Sometimes she 
 says she feels as if she must be cast away, and then the 
 words of the Bible comfort her, * And if I do but say 
 God help me, it seems to do me good, ma'am.' She told 
 so simply how much she was taken up with cares about this 
 world, and how to struggle on with their poverty and pay 
 their debts, and that she could not help fretting about it, 
 though she knew it was so wrong, that I really felt quite 
 ashamed that she should see me sitting at my ease, with 
 every luxury around me. I hope to be some comfort to 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 11$ 
 
 her, but it does strike one as something like mockery to 
 talk to such poor creatures about being thankful for what 
 is given them, and certainly they do need the hopes of 
 something hereafter to look on to. 
 
 " I am very busy writing a sermon to be ready for 
 Augustus's return. I don't know whether it will be of 
 any use to him, but it is partly done in his style, which 
 is rather that of plain talking than preaching. We have 
 got a large cargo of flannel and blankets from Frome 
 to cut up, and we shall give them the day after 
 Christmas, which will be a good way of knowing all 
 the people. 
 
 "Dec. 22. Your account of seeing the railway takes 
 away my breath, and puts my head into a perfect whirl. 
 What will this all come to ? Some great change must 
 take place. I want, as you say, my companion to talk 
 it all over to. However, you are quite right that even 
 great as my privation is of not having him, there are 
 independent charms of being alone which we enjoy 
 more than most. It is such a pleasure having things 
 done that I know will please him or make him more 
 comfortable. For instance, I have moved the chairs 
 and tables, till I have made more space for my poor 
 man to walk about. He is so patient that he never 
 says a word about it, but I know he must long to 
 expel half the furniture that is in the way of his long 
 legs and walks. It is very good for him, however, to be 
 a little curtailed. He will lose the habit of jumping 
 up and twirling round, from the impossibility here of 
 doing it without knocking something over. I have 
 always forgotten to copy for your amusement some 
 lines addressed to him, I forget who by, but describing 
 a debating society at Oxford, of which he was a mem- 
 ber. Here are those relating to him : 
 
Il6 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 "And first thyself that planned the vast design, 
 And bade such powers of eloquence combine, 
 Yes ! sure 'tis he ! 'tis Hare whose gamut voice 
 Bids treason flourish, Jacobins rejoice ; 
 Who tells in alt what ills our State disgrace, 
 And mumbles out corruption's fall in base. 
 'Tis he, whose restless hand, now out, now in, 
 m Threats all around, or strokes his beardless chin ; 
 
 Each adverse speech he vows on conquest bent, 
 
 * To declamation without argument ; ' 
 Next well-composed antitheses ensue, 
 
 * Naught true is novel, and naught novel true ; 
 Till, as vast metaphors distend his breast, 
 
 He winds his period up, and chokes the rest." 
 
 I have been reading a little of Schleiermacher. Thirl- 
 wall's preface, with the history of all the different the- 
 ories, is quite bewildering, and enough, I think, to turn 
 any one disbeliever in the inspiration. Schleiermacher, 
 I think, clearly has a right feeling himself, and only 
 wishes to account for the discrepancies in the best way 
 he can, believing in the main points as divinely taught. 
 But I suspect the effect on most would be rather of cre- 
 ating doubt than of satisfying it. Still there are many 
 singular theories about how this story must have origi- 
 nated in the telling of the Virgin Mary, and that in the 
 telling of the shepherds, &c, which do not at all take 
 away from the high origin ; and the supposition that it 
 was originally written down in detached portions, occa- 
 sioned by the questions of the early converts, and after- 
 Wards collected together, does not seem to me at all to 
 take away from its truth or spiritual inspiration, and 
 accounts for the want of connection. 
 
 " Yesterday evening I was actually obliged to go to 
 bed from the cold, having tried alternately whether the 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. II J 
 
 draft from the door or window was the most bearable. 
 One is obliged to move one's position sometimes, so that 
 an undue partiality of warmth may not be shown to one 
 side. You cannot think how beautiful Alton looks in 
 the snow. Yesterday the sunset on the snow-hills was 
 quite Alpine. But, my poor Augustus I wonder how 
 he will ever get home to-day through the deep drifts, and 
 shall be most glad to have him safe here. 
 
 " Dec. 30. You will not be very glad of Augustus's 
 return, as it stops my pen so much. I do not know how 
 it happens, but when he is at home there seems no time 
 for any thing. He brought his aunt's dog Brute home 
 with him. Can you fancy me with a little beast ? How- 
 ever, I shall learn to talk to one soon I think. 
 
 " We had a great day on Saturday for giving away to 
 all the people, and so got all their names and histories, 
 and Augustus scolded the mothers whose daughters had 
 * misfortunes] and told them how, in the parish he came 
 from, such a thing was unheard of. On Christmas day 
 we had only two communicants, besides my woman and 
 ourselves. On Sunday the great Alton clergyman did 
 not come on account of the snow, and Augustus had 
 to do the whole morning service there, as well as the 
 evening here. 
 
 " Jan. 6, 1830. Julius came on Monday, bringing our 
 young half-brother Gustavus with him, that he might 
 read with Augustus. A new person coming upon one's 
 solitude seems to let in so much new light. Then Julius 
 is much more communicative than Augustus, and more 
 generally conversable. But with all that mildness of de- 
 meanor and character, I am surprised to hear him so 
 vehement on politics, &c. I think he will be obliged 
 to end by living in Germany, he is so much annoyed by 
 
Il8 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the present system of things in this country, by the 
 overpowering commercial spirit which fills every thing. 
 He must have surprised a fellow-traveller in the coach, 
 who was rejoicing in the present books for children, by 
 saying that there was not one fit for them to read ; and 
 had he gone on to express his regret that the poor had 
 no longer popular romances to read, his companion 
 would have wondered still more. He does not con- 
 ceal his dislike of people when he feels it, and is not 
 near as cautious as Augustus is. I hope he will preach 
 on Sunday. By-the-bye, Augustus preached my sermon 
 last Sunday, with a few alterations of his own, which 
 did very well. He says he never saw the people so 
 attentive. It was something like my copies of your 
 drawings, having a good foundation, but imperfectly 
 worked up, and wanting the spirit and force of an 
 original. 
 
 " Jan. 29. Pray tell Charlie that when his uncle 
 was five or six years old his great play at school was 
 taking Bergen-op-Zoom, the scene of action being Twy- 
 ford churchyard, and his fortifications composed of 
 string from one tombstone to another. Without any 
 knowledge of geography, he picked out the names he 
 could hear of, so that Malta and Copenhagen were side 
 by side sometimes, and all his leisure hours were spent 
 in arranging plans for assaults, and thinking over, as he 
 grew older, what he read in Thucydides, &c. . . . His 
 trouble in teaching Gustavus is really repaid by the 
 delight Demosthenes gives him. His language and 
 style is as plain and homely as that of Cobbett, and 
 his eloquence produced entirely by the force of argu- 
 ment. Of course my studies have lain in this line lately, 
 one thing brings up another so j and then I feel so ig- 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. II9 
 
 norant of all the general principles, as if there was so 
 much to be known and thought about that a poor weak 
 mind cannot embrace any thing, and I wonder at the 
 bigotry of those who think their own opinions infallible. 
 " I begin almost to dread seeing you again, the hap- 
 piness will be so great. Julius has left us, having been 
 much shocked the day before by hearing of Niebuhr's 
 death. He laments him no less for the excellence of 
 his private character than for his literary attainments, 
 says the world has a great loss in the latter, for his 
 researches were so very deep. Having a very nervous 
 mind, it had preyed on the troubles of the times, and 
 worn him out quite in his prime." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 " Feb. 11. There are two things in your last letter 
 I thought of commenting on. One was what you say 
 about our imperfect powers of mind. Certainly they do 
 prove the corruption and weakness of our intellectual 
 nature, but this I conceive to be a distinct thing from 
 the moral corruption of which St. Paul speaks, except so 
 far as they act and react upon each other. With re- 
 gard to religious truth (I mean not unessential points, 
 but a Christian faith), I believe Augustus would say 
 that it is the corruption of the will that perverts the 
 intellect, some hidden undiscovered cause perhaps ; 
 but he holds that there is no person perfectly sincere 
 and honest in his search after truth, who will not sooner 
 or later be allowed to find it, and be helped in his in- 
 quiry. But then to be unprejudiced and open to convic- 
 tion is just the point on which we all fail. Our limited 
 capacities, I think, would alone convince us of there 
 being a something far higher to which we shall one day 
 
120 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 attain, and where all will be made clear which now 
 seems often so obscure. The striving of our nature after 
 something better, and its reluctance to stand still, might 
 be a proof that the image of God in our souls has not 
 wholly been done away; if it was, there could be no 
 chord to be struck, nothing to answer the call, to lay 
 hold of the means held out, in darkness we must 
 remain. I suspect that in many the extreme to which 
 the contrary doctrine is pushed proceeds from a degree 
 of jealousy lest sufficient stress should not be laid upon 
 Christ's doing all and not part of our salvation ; and so 
 (as I think Whately somewhere observes) are doctrines, 
 not necessarily dependent on each other to their extreme 
 point, made to hang together for fear lest in loosening 
 one both should give way. 
 
 " People ought to marry, that by communion with 
 another mind they may look at themselves with other 
 eyes. Now the thing which I see more clearly than I 
 used to do is, how much . the system of indulgence 
 gives a false view of life, and tends to raise an expec- 
 tation and wish of self-gratification in every thing, as 
 well as making those occasions when that is not possible 
 appear in the light of great trials and sacrifices. I am 
 much struck with the effect which a different system 
 has had upon Augustus, and how much more whole- 
 some to his character the severity of early discipline 
 was, and the constant giving up of self. Some bad 
 consequences result from the fear produced, reserve, 
 and in a less upright mind perhaps deceit ; but I begin 
 to think that in the days when subjection to elders 
 was enforced, and when less was done to promote the 
 amusement and gratification of children, more was done 
 to form their minds to a right view of themselves and 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 121 
 
 others. It is well that something of humiliation at find- 
 ing my own notions of duty lower than they should be 
 arises out of marriage, or what would become of me 
 with such excessive spoiling? 
 
 " To day I have been on the downs as far as the 
 Beacon, and am quite stiff with the hard work it was 
 getting up the hill through the deep mortar." 
 
 Maria Hare to Miss Clinton. 
 
 "Feb. 27, 1830. Nothing can be more convenient 
 than a parish, no house of which is beyond a ten min- 
 utes' walk. Then the power of knowing every individ- 
 ual in it, and of ministering even with our small means 
 to the comfort of all, is a very great advantage. But 
 there is scarcely a grown-up person who can read, and 
 I was not aware before how much the want of this sim- 
 ple knowledge leads to a general dulness of intellect, 
 and how greatly it adds to the difficulty of giving any 
 thing of religious instruction. How is the mother of a 
 family, who can never or rarely get to church, and has no 
 means of learning any thing at home, to know or care any 
 thing about any world but this ? I hope we may in time 
 be able to do something towards enlightening their minds 
 a little, but it is a work of great difficulty, and I long for 
 a missionary spirit to be able to speak the truth and the 
 whole truth to them with plainness and openness. The 
 first thing has been of course to begin with the children. 
 Those who are not advanced beyond A B and B A of 
 course get on very slowly, but we have now begun a 
 little village school. The people seem a good deal 
 struck by Augustus's sermons, which being extremely 
 plain, and at the same time out of the common way, 
 with illustrations from their own sphere of life, have a 
 6 
 
122 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 greater effect than many finer discourses. But how very 
 hard it is to give them the least notion of religion, ex- 
 cept as one of forms and outward acts ! I am now 
 visiting a sick woman, one of the most respectable in 
 the parish, who has attended church better than her 
 neighbors and brought up her family well. She is 
 pleased to have me read to her, but beyond the Jewish 
 creed of a God that will reward and punish, and to 
 whom we must pray for help and protection, she seems 
 to have as little sense of her needing a mediator, or of 
 all that she owes to Him, as any heathen might have ; 
 and to convince her that the faults, for which she takes 
 God's pardon as a matter of course, are such as the 
 Bible teaches us proceed from the heart and must be 
 repented of, I feel some trouble in making her under- 
 stand. Till I came here I was scarcely aware, having 
 only seen parishes which had long been civilized and 
 attended to, how much devolves upon the exertion and 
 attention of the Rectory in teaching the poor people ; 
 and the state of simplicity which one might expect, as 
 you say, from the distance from a high road, having no 
 town near, and no public house in the village, is far less 
 than might be hoped. The system of all the women 
 and girls acting as field-laborers ploughing and shep- 
 herding, &c. in itself produces a rough and savage 
 state of society." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley (after a happy visit from 
 the Stanleys at Alton and an absence in London). 
 
 " Alton, June i, 1830. Here we are again at our own 
 quiet home, which, in the depth of shade and exceeding 
 freshness of foliage, looks more retired and more rural 
 even than when you saw it. You may fancy the pleasure 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 1 23 
 
 it has been to me to receive from Mrs. Reginald Heber a 
 parcel of the ' Life.' She seems to me to have done it 
 so judiciously in making him his own biographer by his 
 letters and journals, and they bring him most vividly 
 before one. Wherever his mind comes forth, the ster- 
 ling sense united with the candor and liberality is very 
 remarkable. I feel one's loss of him renewed by having 
 him thus brought home to one's recollection. To be 
 sure, how unlike he was to any one else. I cannot read 
 the book without tears. 
 
 "Augustus has been working hard at his own hay, 
 going out every half-hour to see what they were about, 
 watching the clouds with an anxiety worthy of any 
 farmer, and scolding because the cocks were not judi- 
 ciously made, to say nothing of moving half the grass 
 when mown into the next field to dry sooner, which 
 answered completely. Mary has worked in the hay all 
 day, dressed me, brought in dinner, milked the cow, and 
 at seven o'clock there she was in the hay again. When 
 I saw her in the croft, I laughed and said, 'You have 
 had enough variety to-day.' ' Oh, yes,' she said, ' I feel as 
 if I was at home.' Certainly, whether a country gentle- 
 man's daughter is the thing for a wife or not, a respect- 
 able farmer's daughter is the thing for a servant." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "June 2, 1830. I daresay you have followed us 
 to-day in our walks and rides, and guessed how many 
 recollections have come across us of the beginning of 
 our life together, of which this is the first anniversary. 
 How blessed this year has been to us both ! Who 
 knows what another may be ? But we are, thank God, 
 in better hands than our own, and our care for the future 
 
124 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 as for the present must all be cast on Him. We were so 
 glad to be able to spend this day alone together, and at 
 our own dear little quiet home, which is so very green 
 and fresh ; the roses cluster in at the windows, and it 
 looks so very retired and comfortable, that I long for 
 you to see it in its summer dress. 
 
 "Augustus has established a second service on a 
 Sunday, which was never before known; and it has 
 been received thankfully, as also his attempts to teach 
 these poor ignorant people something about the Sacra- 
 ment, which has been entirely neglected. He had quite 
 a little congregation last week on those evenings in which, 
 after a prayer he made for the occasion, he talked and 
 explained to them for above an hour, and they seemed 
 greatly pleased. If we can do something, how thankful 
 we shall be, but it must take a long time before any 
 great change can be made ; and when the novelty of 
 having a pastor who cares about their souls is a little 
 gone by, we must expect to have many discourage- 
 ments. . . . 
 
 " How it unites the interests of rich and poor when 
 the one is enabled to contribute so essentially to the 
 welfare of the other, and when they can join together 
 in one great feeling. I am sure they are wonderfully 
 sensible of, and grateful for, one's taking an interest 
 about their spiritual concerns as much as for their tem- 
 poral, and it quite saddens one to think that such a 
 weight of responsibility as attaches to the clergy should 
 be so often misused and slighted. Pray for us that we 
 may be enabled to persevere, that God may bless our 
 weak attempts to lead others into that service of perfect 
 freedom, and that He may strengthen our own faith, that 
 whilst teaching others we also may be advancing in his 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 12$ 
 
 love and knowledge of the truth, and that we may give 
 all the praise to Him. This last especially I would say 
 must never be out of our minds, for our poor weak nature 
 is so ready to take all the glory to itself. 
 
 ... "I am often tempted to wish there was not 
 another religious book in the world except the Bible, 
 and then there would I believe be far less difference 
 of opinion and more simplicity of feeling. Were Christ 
 himself the model of life and his precepts the standard 
 of opinion, many who are by the errors and ill-judgment 
 of even his faithful followers led astray would be filled 
 more with that spirit of love and peace which marks 
 his character." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 " Alton, July 8. The aunts are just gone and oh ! 
 on Monday next down go the partition walls of the draw- 
 ing-room, and lo ! our beautiful new room twenty-three 
 feet in length ! No sooner was the suggestion made of 
 such an improvement being practicable, and the prob- 
 able execution talked of for a future time, than each 
 sister looked at the other, ' I see what you are thinking 
 of, Marianne, and the same thing struck me.' And then 
 came that it was a great pity to delay such an increase 
 of comfort, and that they should have real pleasure in 
 giving it to us. Nothing could be done more kindly and 
 handsomely. It was a beautiful day for their arrival, and 
 all looked to advantage. They expressed satisfaction in 
 every thing, found no faults, and I did not ask opinions 
 on things I did not intend to follow, and did upon points 
 where I could. The village was well astonished by the 
 great ladies and their four horses. 
 
 "We are going to Stoke in a fortnight. ... I am 
 
126 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 sure it is necessary and wholesome to mix in the world 
 sometimes to prevent one's notions becoming narrow and 
 bigoted, as they will do if one never associates except/ 
 with those who think with one's self. But certainly the 
 truest enjoyment must always be in one's own dear home, 
 striving to help those around us, regretting only how 
 weak and inefficient are the human means of benefiting 
 them. ... I do not know if I have ever told you what 
 my study is now, Greek. I read a few verses each 
 day in my Testament, and get on pretty well, my master 
 tells me, and it is such a delight to me. 
 
 "Stoke, Sept. 26. The terrible news of the railway 
 accident and Mr. Huskisson's death quite occupies us. 
 Augustus and I have been making out from the news- 
 papers how many variations there are in the accounts of 
 the story, as told professedly by those who were on the 
 spot ; and had he to preach in the neighborhood at this 
 time, he says he should certainly make use of them as 
 an instance how absurd it would be some years hence 
 to doubt the truth of the way in which Mr. Huskisson 
 was killed because one eye-witness calls it the right, and 
 another the left leg that was injured ; because one says 
 he fell on his face, knocked down by the door, and 
 another that his foot slipped, &c. ; and how similar are 
 the doubts raised of the truth of the Gospels by the 
 variations of the evangelist story." 
 
 Augustus W. Hare to a Clerical Friend. 
 
 "Sept., 1830. . . . You may remember you said to 
 me, as I was getting into the carriage to leave your 
 house, that you hoped I did not think the worse of you 
 for the discussions we had had together. Now I will not 
 pay your penetration so bad a compliment as to suppose 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 1 27 
 
 it possible you should not have perceived how greatly I 
 admire many things about you, your care of the par- 
 ish, your love of natural science, your activity, your unre- 
 mitting endeavors to improve the condition of the poor 
 around you. Heartily do I wish that I resembled and 
 equalled you in these respects. All I deplore is, that 
 with so much energy of character, and such a love of 
 truth, you should be content to remain, on many points, 
 halting between two opinions ; and that you should suffer 
 your peace to be disturbed and your days embittered by 
 questions which, if you would only grapple with them 
 steadily, would many of them, I am convinced, turn out 
 to be little more than phantoms. I do not deny that 
 there may be many difficulties in the narratives we have 
 so often discussed together, but, in the eyes of the Chris- 
 tian, they kick the beam when weighed against the posi- 
 tive evidence afforded us in the life and character of 
 Jesus. ... I am disposed to say to any Christian who 
 vexes himself about such questions as that of Jonah and 
 his fish, for instance, * What matters it, whether the story 
 be literal or allegorical, so long as we believe in Jesus 
 and his tomb, and know that He rose from it trium- 
 phantly ? ' The darkest passages in the Old Testament 
 are illuminated by that event with a reflected light, which 
 shows them to be either true or unimportant. 
 
 " Apropos of light, a fancy occurred to me the other 
 day, which, if you would mature and execute it, would 
 show, I think, more clearly than any words can do, how 
 small a part the difficulties are compared with the whole 
 scheme ; and, at any rate, how small is the shade they 
 cast on the great surrounding objects. That they are 
 nuisances in themselves I can readily conceive, but then 
 
128 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 it is simply as being negations ; they are but minus 
 quantities, and can no more affect or obscure the glori- 
 ous truth, with which they are found in juxtaposition, 
 than a thousand thistles in a park can conceal or out-top 
 the oak in it. Over those thistles, be they as high and 
 prickly as they may, the oak will still be seen conspic- 
 uously ; and it will still afford its giant shelter to all who 
 can force their way through the briars and nettles up to 
 it. And, after all, the Bible abounds in oaks, and has 
 not half so many thistles in it as I have cut down at 
 Hurstmonceaux. My fancy, however, is this, to draw a 
 sort of map of the whole. The Old and New Testa- 
 ments might be the two worlds, the different books 
 would be so many provinces, the chief events would be 
 like great cities, the difficulties would be deserts, marshes, 
 &c. In short, not to allegorize too much, it would be 
 easy, I think, to color this plan or map with various 
 colors, from white to black, marking the different shades 
 and gradations of belief as you feel them to exist in your 
 own mind, from the highest intensity of persuasion and 
 conviction to the shadows, clouds, and darkness if it 
 ever amount to darkness of any degree of doubt you 
 may be conscious of. Might not such a synopsis as this 
 have the advantage of making you feel more strongly 
 than you at present seem to do how small a proportion 
 your serious difficulties bear to the many great points on 
 which your mind is quite at rest. It is painful to see 
 an anxiety about small matters hanging like a clog about 
 your mind, ever flapping against it and distracting its 
 exertions, and retarding its progress towards perfection. 
 He who is ever laying the foundation afresh will never 
 finish the building. He who has not the foundation laid 
 
TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 1 29 
 
 sufficiently by the beginning of Autumn has little time 
 to lose, if he means to have his house comfortable by 
 Christmas. Your house is not comfortable. Would 
 you could bring yourself to devote your energies to the 
 making it comfortable, with a determination of perse- 
 vering till the work is done. A few months, nay, a year 
 or two, would be well employed in an occupation the 
 certain issue and reward of which are peace. 
 
 " I need hardly say that this applies with equal force 
 to your misgivings about some of the Calvinistic tenets. 
 In my opinion the Arminian who relies on Divine grace, 
 the moderate Calvinist who insists on holiness and re- 
 frains from preaching retribution, and the man who dis- 
 misses the controversy from his thoughts as too high 
 for his learning and abilities, when brought within these 
 wholesome limits, as being partially unimportant, all 
 these men, I conceive, may meet together in one Church, 
 as in a common field, in which each has an equal right 
 to tilL" . . . 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, Oct. 26, 1830. You may guess the joy with 
 which we found ourselves at home again, and we have 
 had such greetings from all the people. . . . Yester- 
 day I mounted Jack again for the first time, Augustus 
 walked by my side, and we enjoyed much going along 
 that beautiful terrace you remember on the downs, and 
 coming back through the pretty lanes where the bluebells 
 were. Nothing can be more perfect than our present 
 life. The third Sunday we were away, Mr. Bleeck had 
 service at Great Alton church in the morning. In the 
 evening Mr. Peck, as usual, had service in our church. 
 6* 1 
 
130 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 When he came out, the clerk stepped up to him, 'That 
 was a very good sermon, sir, you gave us ; to be sure, 
 we heard every word of it this morning from Mr. Bleeck ; 
 but we shall remember it all the better.' Was it not 
 singular ? 
 
VIII. 
 
 JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK." 
 
 " Love, lift me upon thy golden wings 
 From this base world unto thy heaven's hight, 
 Where I may see those admirable things, 
 Which there thou workest by thy soveraine might, 
 Farre above feeble reach of earthly sight, 
 That I thereof a heavenly hymne may sing 
 Unto the God of love, high heaven's King." 
 
 E. Spenser, 1553-98. 
 Maria Hare's Journal. 
 
 " ALTON-BARNES, Nov. 22, 1829, Sunday. My 
 ** thirty-first birthday ! my first married one ! God 
 be praised for the happiness that attends it. Others 
 have been accompanied by hopes, and plans, and expec- 
 tations for the future ; this presents the realization of all, 
 and more than all I have ever dared to hope. I no 
 longer look on to what is in store ; rather I dwell upon 
 the present enjoyment, and tremble lest another year 
 should bring with it any change. My heart is often full 
 to overflowing when I think of the many fond dreams I 
 cherished of the days to come, and feel now how they 
 have all so fully come to pass. It was in our own little 
 church I this day knelt and prayed, and it was my hus- 
 band's voice to which I listened, and witl} him have I this 
 evening read the Psalms and Lessons to our little house- 
 hold, and so joined together in the sacred services of the 
 day. How long has this been an object of my wishes, 
 
132 RECORDS OF A QUIET LlFE. 
 
 to unite with the partner of my heart and life in such 
 duties. In his tender affection, and in the perfect con- 
 fidence which exists between us, there is a charm thrown 
 over our daily life which certainly equals, and I think 
 exceeds, what I had fancied would be the case ; and 
 such is the fear and trembling with which its duration 
 is thought of, that I am anxious to record something of 
 these happy days as they pass, which may hereafter re- 
 call them to the recollection more vividly than memory 
 unassisted could do. I can breathe no prayer for the 
 present, but that a sense of our utter dependence on God 
 may never leave me, and that He will in his mercy 
 strengthen my faith and resign me to his will ; that 
 whatsoever that will may require from me, be it in suffer- 
 ing or be it in joy, my comfort as well as my thankfulness 
 may rest solely on Him. 
 
 " I begin a new life, with new duties, new responsi- 
 bilities, and I heartily pray that I may fulfil them in that 
 Christian spirit which may in some measure atone for the 
 imperfection in their performance ; and that he whom I 
 so dearly love may together with me grow daily in the 
 knowledge of the truth and in the love of God, may He 
 of his goodness grant by the assistance of his Spirit. I 
 feel myself sadly wanting in submission, often failing in 
 thankfulness, wayward in the midst of blessings, ruffled 
 by the merest trifles ; the pride and self-will in my heart 
 are continually struggling against my better feelings, but 
 they will, I trust, not always gain the victory, and when 
 no higher motives have influence, the strength of earthly 
 affection will do much. Why do not we fear to grieve 
 Him, from whom we receive all, as much as we do to 
 cause one painful feeling to our nearest earthly friend ? 
 My own Augustus ! I must not love you too much, or 
 
JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK. 1 33 
 
 God in his wisdom will recall my wandering affections to 
 Heaven, by taking from me that which makes Earth 
 Heaven. 
 
 " Nov. 29. Augustus read in the morning service 
 to-day Doddridge's paraphrase on the 1st of St. John, 
 which wants only simplifying in the words to make it 
 intelligible to the ignorant. Sunday is always a day of 
 rejoicing with me, and I love my dear Augustus more 
 than usual when he has been exerting himself for the 
 good of his people. 
 
 "Dec. 2. With what a characteristic dispute about 
 greatness does the 18th of Matthew open. This is the 
 constant struggle now as then, and the simplicity and 
 humbleness of a child are as little to be met with in these 
 days of knowledge and learning as in those of ignorance 
 and poverty. ' By their angels in Heaven,' sounds to me 
 very strongly as if there were appropriate spirits to min- 
 ister to each faithful Christian. Augustus has been 
 reading Coleridge this evening. Nothing jean be more 
 delightful than his style when not involved in obscurity ; 
 I certainly prefer it to Landor. 
 
 "Dec. 13. We have had a long talk about the 
 heathen philosophers. Augustus thinks it is to the 
 crumbs of truth they picked up that the verse ' God has 
 not left himself without a witness ' may be spiritually 
 applied, that they might from the Hebrew poetry and 
 prophecies gain some light. Coleridge's opinion is that 
 they had themselves a providential, though not a miracu- 
 lous, dispensation to raise their intellect above the sen- 
 sible world, to spiritualize their ideas. How inefficient 
 this was, is proved by the fall of their theories into 
 epicurism amongst the Romans. The Stoics were aus- 
 tere moralists, the falseness of whose system was soon 
 
134 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 detected, and consequently rejected by those who liked 
 to live for pleasure ; and, just when the religion of the 
 Jews had become corrupt, and the philosophy of the 
 heathens sunk into Atheism, Christianity rose with re- 
 viving force. At no other time could it have been spread 
 so rapidly or extensively as when all countries in the 
 civilized world were subject to one power, and connected 
 with t>ne another through this medium. The Reforma- 
 tion was a resurrection of Christianity, which was re- 
 peated in England after the French Revolution by the 
 Methodists. 
 
 " Christmas Day, 1829. This blessed day is the first 
 since we have been so blessed by the gift of each other. 
 How my heart swelled within me on receiving the cup 
 of blessing from my husband's hands at the altar of our 
 own little church, where he read with so much feeling 
 and earnestness those beautiful words of comfort, en- 
 couragement, and prayer. I never felt them come so 
 much home to my feelings ; and imperfect and cold as 
 my best attempts are to realize to myself the presence of 
 Christ, I trust that these will be accepted, and that God 
 will grant to me a daily increasing knowledge of, and 
 love for, my blessed Saviour. That we may assist and 
 help each other in the love of spiritual things, is my 
 earnest desire and prayer; and never do I feel more 
 thankful for my present happy life than when we unite 
 in these feelings and wishes. It was a thorough Christ- 
 mas Day. The sun shone bright upon a Lapland snow, 
 and there was a wholesome clearness in the air, invigor- 
 ating to mind and body. 
 
 "Dec. 31. We have reached the end of this happy, 
 blessed year, 1829. It has given to each of us, I believe, 
 that which is more precious than any other gift of God, 
 
JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK." 1 35 
 
 and not one anticipation of the happiness attending our 
 union has been in vain. Seven months have we now 
 been one, and not one cloud has come between us ; each 
 day seems only to draw us more closely together, and to 
 unite our thoughts and feelings more intimately. Let 
 this conviction produce in our hearts true thankfulness 
 to Our Father who has given such earthly happiness, 
 and make us watchful lest it grow into a too engrossing 
 feeling, excluding that higher love to which it should be 
 subject. 
 
 " Jan. i, 1830. The new year begins most brightly 
 and happily, but I scarcely like to look on to its events ; 
 for when the present is so blest, one cannot but fear the 
 changes which may be wrought. But my trust must not 
 fail, for God can give us strength to bear. May He lead 
 us daily and yearly nearer and nearer to himself, that 
 our cold hearts may glow with more love of heavenly 
 things, and be weaned from dependence on any thing 
 earthly. May I perform the new duties which are 
 opened to me with the humility of a little child, conscious 
 of my own unworthiness, and seeking earnestly for help 
 in all my struggles after holiness. 
 
 "Jan. 10. Julius is here, and reads to us in the 
 evenings. He enjoys a story with all the simplicity of a 
 child. In church, his reading of the lessons and prayers 
 was most solemn and devotional, but in the sermon his 
 tone rather wants variety and energy. Nothing could be 
 better and plainer than the words of his sermon, and the 
 thoughts were beautiful. I particularly liked his allusion 
 to our love of tracing things from their beginnings, &c, 
 and the showing how knowledge is not the one thing 
 needful, how much we need a Redeemer, &c. I think, 
 however, for the audience he spoke to, that little would 
 
I36 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 be understood of the natural longing after good ; and the 
 classical allusions rather proceeded from the scholar 
 than the parish-priest. I long for him to be thrown more 
 into the world, that, by mixing with different classes of 
 society, his theories may become less visionary. 
 
 Jan. 28. It grieves me to have to part with Julius 
 just as we were becoming more intimate, but the moment 
 of parting calls forth the real feeling, and his farewell 
 speech of how happy it made him to have a real sister 
 was a great delight. 
 
 " Jan. 28. When I come to study any subject, it 
 always appears to branch off into so many channels, and 
 there arise before me so many points on which I am 
 ignorant, that, instead of keeping steadily to one, my 
 mind is apt to glance off to all the various means before 
 me, gleaning, perhaps, a little from each, but not mak- 
 ing any completely my own. To be sure, the more one 
 knows, the more one must sink before one's self in con- 
 sciousness of utter ignorance, and before the overwhelm- 
 ing force of all the materials for human knowledge, 
 spread out in all ages, and so little made use of as they 
 should be. 
 
 "I am interested in reading connectedly the Mosaic 
 history how constantly and immediately God presided 
 over the Israelites how entirely their laws were 
 adapted to every particular occasion, not general in 
 principle how strongly the necessity of atoning for sin 
 is shown forth in the sacrificial ordinances. 
 
 "Feb. 11. If substance means literally what is be- 
 neath, to understand a thing must be to find out that 
 substance, to penetrate below the surface to what lies 
 under. If nobody professed to understand a thing who 
 had not thus stood under it, and seen its deeper and 
 
JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK." 1 37 
 
 hidden parts, how much error and confusion would be 
 saved ! How equally does God proportion things, that 
 where outer trials are wanting, inner ones are created 
 by the perversity of our own hearts. The system of 
 indulgence under which I have always lived makes any 
 thing less of ease and comfort seem a hardship which 
 requires compassion ; and I find that while great sac- 
 rifices, by calling out a degree of admiration, are a 
 means of fostering our self-love, little ones which often 
 do not cost us less are more salutary, because they pass 
 unnoticed. I grievously need a more humble and sub- 
 missive faith, a more perfect trust in the Divine will. 
 If this were, indeed, attained, all would be peace, and it 
 is the weakness of our faith which leads us to murmur, 
 to grieve, or to be anxious. I have much, very much to 
 learn. God grant me grace to learn of Christ to gain 
 more of the spirit of child-like meekness and more 
 resignation to his will. 
 
 " jfune 2, 1830. This happy day has come again, 
 telling how a long year of happiness has been granted 
 to us. We have lived over again in memory every hour 
 as it passed of that eventful day, and rejoiced in feeling 
 how much nearer and closer is the tie that binds us than 
 it was even then ; and I more especially enjoy the re- 
 membrance of that which first secured to us our present 
 comfort whilst it is undisturbed by all the painful and 
 agitating feelings of the last 2d of June. How can we 
 be grateful enough for so much of earthly blessing ; and 
 yet how often am I half disposed to murmur, or at least 
 grieve, that others are not added, of which I know not 
 if they would contribute to my happiness. God knows 
 what is best, and in his hands I can mostly rest my 
 hopes, though the flesh is weak, and will sometimes 
 presume to wish for itself. 
 
IX. 
 
 VILLAGE DUTIES. 
 
 " What an union for two believers is a Christian marriage, 
 to have one hope, one desire, one course of life, one ser- 
 vice of God in common the one with the other ! Both, like 
 brother and sister, undivided in heart and flesh, or rather 
 really two in one flesh, fall down together on their knees, 
 they pray and fast together, they teach, they exhort, they 
 bear one another mutually ; they are together in the church 
 of God, and in the Supper of the Lord ; they share with 
 one another their grievances, their persecutions, and their 
 joys ; neither hides any thing from the other, neither avoids 
 the other ; the sick are visited by them with pleasure, and 
 the needy supported ; psalms and hymns resound between 
 them, and they mutually strive who shall best praise their 
 God. Christ is delighted to see and hear things like these ; 
 He sends his peace on such as these ; where two are, there 
 is He, and where He is, evil comes not." Tertullian. 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, Jan. 4, 183 1. Julius is here. He preached 
 on Sunday on, * The Lord is my Shepherd, therefore can 
 I lack nothing.' It was a beautiful New Year's sermon, 
 the latter part referring strongly to the present state 
 of things, the want of security ; how an Englishman's 
 house was no longer his castle ; warning them against 
 evil advisers agents of Satan, going about in sheep's 
 clothing in reality their bitterest enemies ; that every 
 newspaper is now telling to what end their counsels 
 
VILLAGE DUTIES. 1 39 
 
 lead in this world, and they must know what it would be 
 in the next, &c. He ended by a prayer, beginning, 
 'Heavenly Shepherd.' He was more animated, and I 
 think the sermon was more of an address than last year. 
 Still it had his usual faults of being too much drawn out 
 without a point to rest upon, if you know what I mean 
 not leaving any very distinct impression as to the tenor 
 of the whole argument ; and further, the scriptural part 
 seemed rather as if added to, than moulded together with, 
 the philosophical deductions. I suppose he never thinks 
 it dull here. Several evenings he read out pieces in 
 Milton's Reformation, which is, to be sure, a different 
 English from the present, and strong enough. He and 
 Augustus had a long argument on Sunday evening as to 
 how far Milton was responsible for the savage expressions 
 he uses towards the bishops of his own day ; Augustus 
 maintaining that in men of genius, that was the mode of 
 temptation to evil passions ; Julius asserting that he did 
 not really feel it, and that it was merely imaginative 
 violence and manner of expressing the principle of 
 hatred towards what was bad. ... I have been obliged 
 with Julius, &c, to put in a word for Evangelicals, feel- 
 ing as I do, that, however bigoted on many points, and 
 however inconsistent occasionally, and however pre- 
 sumptuous and absurd, there is amongst them more 
 of real influential piety and spirituality of mind than 
 amidst most of the accusers ; and that taking out a few 
 such exceptions as Arnold, Arthur Perceval, &c, they 
 are more likely to do good as clergy than the opposite 
 party." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " Sunday after Christmas, 1830. It should have 
 been the blessed Christmas night itself that I wrote to 
 
140 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 my own Lucy, but I was otherwise engaged last night, and 
 this evening will serve as well to share with you the joy 
 of this season, and say how I have felt that we were one 
 in the services and rejoicings of the past two days. A 
 bright sunshine and clear frost seem to belong to Christ- 
 mas, and give outwardly the cheerful brightness which 
 one's inner man is led to feel in dwelling on the glad 
 tidings this day brought. It is the custom here for the 
 carols to be sung in the night, and it is so delightful to 
 be waked out of sleep by the many voices below our 
 window, proclaiming Christ to be born in Bethlehem. 
 There is something in the stillness being so broken, with- 
 out any visible change, which thrills through one's very 
 heart. What joy and happiness those lose who care 
 nothing for that Saviour so freely offered, and who would 
 cling to the cold formalities of natural religion, putting 
 aside so entirely the merciful link connecting us with 
 heaven. It does seem to me also a wonderful perversion 
 of human understanding to find in Scripture any ground 
 for lowering the nature of that Saviour, and making Him 
 less than God. I have been the more struck with the 
 inconsistency lately, having compared the different pas- 
 sages on the subject, and both directly and indirectly 
 the evidence does appear so unanswerable. Was it not 
 Erasmus who said he understood the Bible till he began 
 to look at commentators ? I think I almost agree with 
 him. . . . 
 
 " You cannot think, in my visitings away from home, 
 how fearful I often feel lest I should be seeming to agree 
 too much with one side or the other j but the fact is that, 
 when I hear fresh instances of party spirit, of presump- 
 tion, and of that ugly thing called cant, I cannot help 
 agreeing in the condemnation of such unchristian con- 
 
VILLAGE DUTIES. I4I 
 
 duct, though generally giving most of the accounts the 
 credit of exaggeration j and then, on the other side, when 
 I see how much more of real spiritual feeling there is 
 amongst those who are called evangelical, I cannot help 
 preferring their society and conversation, although I dis- 
 like exceedingly the notion of belonging to a sect, or of 
 thinking all Christianity void that is out of it. In short, it 
 always ends in my going to the Book, where there is not 
 one following of Paul or another of Apollos, but Christ is 
 all in all, and where the simplicity is so strikingly con- 
 trasted with the color given by all human authorities, 
 and where humility and charity are the graces most 
 earnestly inculcated. My chief feeling, in hearing an- 
 ecdotes unfavorable, is the longing that those to whom 
 they relate could know how much discredit they bring 
 on the doctrine they wish to adorn, by too formal ad- 
 herence to the letter without regarding its spirit; and 
 though it would be worse than mean to compromise what 
 is really essential, I do think much harm is done, or at 
 least many a stumbling-block is laid, by attaching so 
 much importance as some do to trifles, and by the jeal- 
 ous fear of being too liberal. Excellent as are many of 
 the religious books of the present day, I believe that 
 were religious teaching to be confined more exclusively 
 to the Bible, it would be more wholesome, and that fewer 
 errors would be taken up ; and in the same way I think 
 that, delightful as the communication is with those who 
 agree with you on religious points, the kind of religious 
 conversations held between people of the same opinion 
 has a great tendency to breed party-spirit and nourish a 
 degree of self-conceit." 
 
 "March 20. I fully understand your feeling of pre- 
 ferring a life which has its crook. I do believe that fol- 
 
142 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 lowing only one's own pleasure and having no call for 
 exertion is not only the least wholesome, but, taking it 
 all in all, the least happy way of passing life. I am sure 
 I always find it so ; and that to have sacrificed one's 
 own inclination in ever so trifling a way is always repaid 
 doubly. I cannot tell you with what joy I look forward to 
 this spring, in the hope of getting you here ; but I would 
 earnestly guard you, in coming here, against expecting 
 too much, either from our people, who have as yet per- 
 haps made but little progress, or from us who are at 
 present but beginners in the art of teaching others, and 
 perhaps in teaching ourselves. Oswald thought this the 
 dullest and the ugliest place he was ever in, so you must 
 not fancy that you will find a Paradise out of doors of 
 beauty, such there certainly is within of love. But I 
 have no fears of your not being happy here." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 " East Sheen, May 27, 1831. .We came up here on 
 Monday. . . . On Wednesday evening I went up with 
 Mrs. Oswald Leycester to the Ancient Music concert : we 
 had good seats just before the director's box, and were in 
 time to see the Queen enter the royal box, and hear the 
 ' God save King William ' struck up. With all the discus- 
 sions and feelings excited lately, one could not hear this 
 without looking forward and feeling the unsettled state of 
 things just now ; nor could one look at the Queen and 
 help thinking on how frail a tenure her elevation might 
 perhaps rest some time hence. There was something 
 very thrilling almost overpowering to me, in the 
 ' God save the King,' sung in chorus, all standing up ; 
 and I am now so unaccustomed to public places, that 
 even the number of people, all well dressed, had the 
 
VILLAGE DUTIES. 143 
 
 effect upon me, as on a child, of novelty. I was sorry 
 not to be nearer the Queen ; one has a curiosity about 
 such people, to see how they talk (you know what I 
 mean), whether they really are amused and interested by 
 what goes on. The selection was a particularly good 
 one, and Pasta sang gloriously ' Ombra Adorata ' and a 
 song of Paisiello, and one heard her so perfectly. The 
 harmony and melody of the Knyvetts was delicious in 
 its way, and I have seldom heard at a concert less of 
 the tiresome music one generally has." 
 
 "Alton, June 2, 183 1. There could not have been 
 a more delightful day for the celebration of our second 
 anniversary. The sun shines without a cloud, and every 
 thing looks as joyous and happy as our hearts feel. It 
 is indeed a blessed thing to have had two years of such 
 happiness, and this is quite a fit day to represent it. 
 You may suppose how Lucy has enjoyed it. We had 
 the long table and benches brought out of the barn, and 
 put on the grass-plot under the cherry-tree, by the quince, 
 and twenty-five children came at twelve o'clock to a 
 dinner of bacon and potatoes, and gooseberry pies. The 
 Piles, Miss Miller, &c, came to look on, and had chairs 
 put out to sit under the trees. What is so common with 
 you, being quite a new thing here, was much thought of. 
 Augustus said a grace before and after, and the children 
 sang their hymn, and each had gingerbread given, and 
 then away they went. It was really no expense, very 
 little trouble, and gave much pleasure. The boys, being 
 out at plough this afternoon, are to have their supper at 
 seven o'clock ; and we, having dined at three o'clock, 
 are now going Augustus and I to take a delicious 
 ride together, and Lucy to enjoy her solitary ramble on 
 the downs, with her camp-stool and Brute. 
 
144 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Maria Hare (Journal). 
 
 " June 2, 183 1. Our third wedding-day ! Two years 
 of uninterrupted happiness have been granted to us, 
 such years as perhaps may never again be permitted us 
 to enjoy. We have grown in love to each other, and in 
 comfort with all around us. Have we grown as much as 
 we ought in love and devotion of heart to our Heavenly 
 Master? This is a question I hardly like to ask, for I 
 fear the true answer would be a mortifying, self-con- 
 demning one. Something of earnestness in the great 
 work appointed to us has, I would hope, been added to 
 us ; a few seeds scattered amongst our people have, I 
 trust, been the beginning of some good, which, by God's 
 blessing, may spring up even from the weakest instru- 
 ments. But when I look into myself I find nothing there 
 but food for sorrow and mourning, that, with such ad- 
 vantages of situation and circumstances, I have made so 
 little progress in attaining a true Christian spirit ; that I 
 am so little humbled before God j that my faith is so 
 weak, my trust so wavering. Oh, my God and Saviour, 
 do thou listen to my earnest prayer ! Take from me 
 the coldness and deadness of heart I so often feel in 
 spiritual things. Enlighten me by Thy Word of Truth 
 to see and know Thy will, and by the Holy Spirit assist- 
 ing me, enable me to struggle without ceasing in bring- 
 ing my thoughts and affections into obedience to the 
 Cross of Christ. Help me to subdue every selfish and 
 wayward feeling, every desire lifting itself up against 
 Thy will, and make me to feel what immense causes I 
 have for thankfulness to Thee. This day united us for 
 ever upon earth. Oh, may it be the forerunner only of 
 that more perfect union we may hereafter enjoy in 
 heaven ! Do Thou, gracious Lord, be with my husband, 
 softening his heart more and more into perfect love for 
 
VILLAGE DUTIES. 145 
 
 Thy service, strengthening his faith, and filling him with 
 that joyful communion and heavenly peace which Thou 
 dost bestow on Thy true believers. We must look for- 
 ward to times when all may not go on as smoothly as it 
 now does. Troubles and sorrows must come ; and I feel 
 at times a painful dread lest there should be found want- 
 ing a chastening hand to wean me from a too great love 
 for the things of this life, and from placing my affections 
 too entirely on earthly objects. I have been, with one 
 exception, perhaps too prosperous, and my life has too 
 little call for self-sacrifice to be altogether as wholesome 
 as it might be. I must endeavor to supply the need of 
 outward teaching by a more watchful self-examination, 
 a more diligent study of God's Word, and more earnest 
 and unremitting prayer for help and support. May God 
 in his mercy quicken my feeble wishes, and bring them 
 into reality and fulfilment." 
 
 Augustus W. Hare (Note-Book). 
 
 u Whitsunday. Who has not seen the sun on a fine 
 spring morning pouring his rays through a transparent 
 white cloud, filling all places with the purity of his 
 presence, and kindling the birds into joy and song? 
 Such, I conceive, would be the constant effects of the 
 Holy Spirit on the soul, were there no evil in the world. 
 As it is, the moral sun, like the natural, though 'it 
 always makes a day/ is often clouded over. It is only 
 under a combination of peculiarly happy circumstances 
 that the heart suffers this sweet violence perceptibly, and 
 feels and enjoys the ecstasy of being borne along by 
 overpowering, unresisted influxes of good. To most, I 
 fear, this only happens during the spring of life; but 
 some hearts keep young, even at eighty." 
 7 J 
 
I46 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, June 3, 1831. I have only been letting a 
 few days pass over the heads of my ideas here, before I 
 began to write. Every thing is exactly like my expecta- 
 tion, except that I had imagined too large a scale, and 
 that I had no idea how great a difference there was 
 between Augustus known, and Augustus unknown, 
 for I never knew him before in the least. The second 
 day after I came I thought a little child would look very 
 dear on the little lawn, but I hardly think it is necessary 
 to their perfect happiness, it is so entire. For myself, 
 I can only say the guest without a husband is as happy 
 as the hostess with ; and, when I was walking over the 
 White Horse's Tail yesterday evening, I felt the very 
 feeling of Wordsworth's Solitary in the 'Excursion,' 
 when ' No prayer he breathed he proffered no re- 
 quest.' The only alteration I wish is to cut down half 
 the trees, but Augustus does not at all agree. It is so 
 amusing to see the interest the grave scholar takes in 
 his cow, and horse, and meadow. He came in yester- 
 day and said he meant to water the grass in the orchard, 
 and was very angry one day because Maria and I had 
 walked all through the long grass, which was to be cut 
 at five this morning. He takes his daily round through 
 the village, and returns with a minute account to his 
 Mia. You would have enjoyed seeing Maria yesterday, 
 busy preparing for her school-children, filling the jars 
 with flowers, placing the table under the cherry-tree, all 
 the children meanwhile peeping through the gate ; and 
 then, when all was ready, Augustus exclaiming, ' Throw 
 open the doors,' and putting each happy little thing 
 in its place. The feast concluded with the children 
 singing the Morning Hymn, led by Maria. I did enjoy 
 
VILLAGE DUTIES. 1 47 
 
 the day thoroughly. It is no difficult task to rejoice 
 with those who rejoice, and rejoice was written in 
 every look and action of the two throughout the day. 
 Then we dined at three, and I and my camp-stool went 
 to explore the downs. The carpet of cistus, and milk- 
 wort and thyme there, is quite beautiful. I delight in 
 the downs, but they are very fatiguing. The only thing 
 I long for is a running brook, with forget-me-not. The 
 source of the Avon is like the outpourings of a soap-tub. 
 Likewise there is a great scarcity of flowers except 
 downy ones. 
 
 Catharine Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Alderley, July 7, 183 1. We came back from High- 
 lake by the train, but in the shut carriages. There was 
 a man killed on our train, but we knew nothing of it at 
 the time, but that there was an unexplained stop of a 
 minute ; in fact you know just as much of what goes on 
 in any other part of the train as if you were at Alton. 
 There were only three places vacant when we went three 
 hours before the time to take our places. It is more 
 like taking places at a theatre than any thing else. You 
 book yourselves for the seats you choose, and, having a 
 number on your ticket, find your place accordingly in 
 the train. Another remark I made was, how little idea 
 you have of the distance you pass over, when the ob- 
 jects are not previously known to you. No road having 
 ever been upon the line of railroad, of course there are 
 no landmarks, and, for any thing one sees, the distance 
 might be only twelve miles. It did seem marvellous, 
 indeed, to find one's self at Huyton Church, six miles, 
 in eight minutes, from Liverpool." 
 
I48 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Stoke, October 10. . . . When I think how I used 
 to complain of the want of interest and the dreariness 
 here, which now seems to me by comparison so extended 
 and beautiful, and think how it never has occurred to 
 me, at our little miniature of a garden and house and 
 grounds, to feel a deficiency, I am fearfully sensible what 
 a great weight of happiness rests upon one person, and 
 how dependent I am upon what? Upon a Father 
 who loveth His children better than any earthly parent, 
 and will never leave nor forsake them. We have had a 
 delicious evening service. Julius, who is staying here, 
 read prayers, and Augustus preached, I having just 
 before had the pleasure of hearing one of my favorite 
 cottagers say of the last Sunday's sermon, * I have never 
 had it out of my head since. I never heard a minister 
 that satisfied me so well. I hope I shall never forget it, 
 he went so desperate deep ; and told such truth, one 
 could not but understand it. I take it he must be a rare 
 good liver to preach like that' " 
 
X. 
 
 SUNSHINE. 
 
 " Every one ought to read in a triple book, * 
 
 in the book of Creatures, that he may find God ; 
 
 in the book of Conscience, that he may know himself; 
 in the book of Scripture, that he may love his neighbor." 
 
 Alanus de Insulis. 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " *T^HE dear Alton, Oct. 22, 1831. A threatening 
 -* shower passed away before we got into the Vale, 
 and the sun shone brightly as we came over the brow ; 
 and said Augustus, * Well, it is not so beautiless? There 
 stood Miss Miller and her cousin busy at work in their 
 garden ; there were the little school-girls at the usual 
 corner ; and some little way farther, there came out of 
 his cottage-door, at the sound of the wheels, John Brown 
 himself, in his blue cap, which he took off, stroking down 
 his hair as you may see him doing, with his honest wel- 
 come. The dear little peaceful home ! You know what 
 my feeling is when I come back to it, and that I have 
 scarcely a word ready to give the servants who greet us, 
 so full is my heart at this moment." 
 
 -l,ucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Corinne Bay, Penrhos, Sept. 28, 183 1. This has 
 been a happy Sunday. I could not go to church,, and 
 
150 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 have spent most of the morning and afternoon in my 
 rocky chamber, with the seagulls and kittewakes for a 
 congregation. Nowhere, I think, can one enter more 
 into the beauty of Christ's discourses than by the sea, 
 where most of His words were spoken. The waves, in 
 their stillness or motion, must be the same everywhere, 
 and the sound, on our ear as we read, was in His when 
 he spoke. 
 
 " Nov. 7. Now for two happy hours. They all went 
 to Beaumaris this morning, since which I have fulfilled 
 all necessary duties, and now have established myself in 
 the breakfast-room. The three Greek books are ready 
 open ; my task for to-night, the thirteenth and fourteenth 
 verses of Matt. vi. When I was eating my solitary 
 dinner just now, I thought of the last I ate at Alton, 
 with Brute by my side. It is blowing a heavy gale, and 
 there are such strange noises abroad ; the dogs are snuf- 
 fing and listening as if they heard people, growling 
 low. Your letter came just as I was thinking of you 
 both in prayer, and spoke less of earth than heaven. 
 You place me completely by your side. How little I 
 did what I ought to have done ; how much I did which 
 I ought not to have done at dear Alton, and yet it is 
 very sweet to me to think that we are perhaps sometimes 
 helped on our way and fresh grace given, in answer to 
 the humble prayer of some of Christ's little ones, who 
 remember the little word of advice or comfort we offered, 
 long after our own fleeting thought of it passed away. 
 I have been refreshing myself with some of St. Augus- 
 tine's and St. Anselm's meditations, and I always find 
 myself most honestly described in the writings of these 
 old Fathers, there is such a deep knowledge of the 
 human heart, with such simplicity and heavenly-minded- 
 
SUNSHINE. 151 
 
 ness. They spoil one for modern authors. I find Julius 
 very often in these old men's quaint sentences." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " Saturday Evening, Nov. 12, 1831. Augustus has 
 not gone down to the Study. He is walking about in 
 the drawing-room, then sitting down, and scribbling as 
 fast as he can, then referring, it may be, to the news- 
 papers before him ; for his subject is the cholera, his 
 text, I believe, is 2 Chron. vii. 4, and what a subject 
 it is ! How soon has England followed the fate of its 
 sister countries, in spite of that sea, which so many 
 hoped would save it from the scourge. If the evil really 
 comes home to our own doors, God will, I hope and 
 trust, strengthen us to meet the trial. At present, I 
 confess, I shrink at the prospect, and feel very faint- 
 hearted in thinking of the winter before us. Sometimes 
 I am quite ashamed of the indescribable dread I feel of 
 all the trial of our faith likely to beset us, and the more 
 we love each other, and enjoy our present happiness, 
 the more I tremble for the sad reverse it may please God 
 to bring upon us. For the first time, I now really re- 
 joice that I have no children to watch over and add to 
 my anxieties, and, in the present state of this country, I 
 feel sure it is far better to be as independent of outward 
 circumstances as possible. My faith is sadly weak at 
 times. Pray for me, dearest, that I may have grace 
 given to help and support me, and to enable me to set 
 my affections more upon things above, and that my 
 Augustus may be helped to rouse the sleepers and excite 
 the slothful to watch and be ready. The liability to 
 fevers in this vale has taken away one's confidence in 
 the treeless openness. Augustus brought from London 
 a medicine-chest full of the proper medicines, and he 
 
152 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 has been giving orders to get the unsavory lane purified, 
 as well as a dry path made for the people to come to 
 church. 
 
 " And now to turn to a more agreeable subject. What 
 do you think he brought me from London? the most 
 beautiful little Greek Testament you ever saw. Then 
 I have a Parkhurst like yours. With these excitements, 
 I hope to get on much with Greek, and, by-the-bye, I can 
 comfort you with the experience I have had, that, hav- 
 ing for a long time been forced to study every word, and 
 fancy it was all uphill, and I was getting on so slowly, 
 all at once I found myself far more advanced than I 
 thought, and got on much more rapidly. It is much the 
 best way to read only a little, and make yourself thor- 
 oughly mistress of it, as you seem to be doing." 
 
 " Sunday Evening. How I wish you could have been 
 here to-day, and have heard the sermon. Augustus 
 began by saying that he should explain what the danger 
 was that the form of prayer alluded to, and entered into 
 all the details respecting the disease, its beginning, and 
 gradual approach ; read out of the newspaper the symp- 
 toms, and also the advice of the physicians about tem- 
 perance and cleanliness ; then specified how this country, 
 from its thick population and rapid communication, was, 
 more than any other, likely to have it spread in every 
 part ; entered into the details of how every house should 
 be ventilated, and how both personal and domestic 
 cleanliness were essential as precautions, and all this 
 before it came to our doors. When it was really come 
 if it did ' the first thing, to put the patient into a 
 bed as hot as possible, the second thing to come to ntej 
 without a moment's loss of time, an hour's delay might 
 be fatal : he had procured all the necessary medicines. 
 When, from the temporal danger, and the precautions 
 
SUNSHINE. 153 
 
 necessary, he turned to the far more important need of 
 timely repentance, and the impossibility in this sickness 
 of turning to God at the last hour, and was gradually 
 warmed by the subject to exhort and beseech their con- 
 sideration of these things, you may fancy how the dear 
 Augustus's countenance was lighted up, and how all the 
 feebleness of bodily fear ^of which he has by nature 
 much in cases of danger) was subdued and conquered 
 by the bright hope within him and the prospect of serv- 
 ing his Lord and Master j and when his appeal to their 
 soul's welfare ended by his triumphant question of, 
 ' What have Christ's servants to fear ? a little sickness, 
 a few pangs, a plunge into the grave, and an issue thence 
 to life and glory ! ' the impression left was far from being 
 the melancholy one which all the earlier details of his 
 sermon might have led one to expect, and I really feel 
 more comfortable than I have done for some days. It 
 was in Great Alton Church, and the people were, as you 
 may suppose, all attention, and some, I believe, in tears. 
 God grant their hearts might be touched. Augustus got 
 through it very firmly, but could scarcely get through 
 the blessing. At this moment he is resting upon the 
 sofa, and I have been playing and singing the hymn in 
 times of danger, ' And when Thy sorrows visit us, oh, 
 grant Thy patience too.' " 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Nov. 22. Augustus is just gone off to the barn, 
 having been busy studying the ' Sermon on the Mount ' 
 for to-night. I wish for you so much in our daily even- 
 ing lecture. Sumner's book is very good for the pur- 
 pose, and, of course, Augustus puts in explanatory bits 
 of his own, and he sometimes reads one of Reginald's 
 7* 
 
154 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 hymns. The people bring their Bibles, and look out 
 any references, and it is just what I have long wished 
 for. We have to-day finished, together, Malachi, and 
 shall begin to-morrow with Lowth's Isaiah. You, too, 
 will be studying this prophet, for he is in the course ; 
 so you may think of us, and I know you like to know 
 our line of thought and stucfy." 
 
 Julius Hare to Maria Hare. 
 
 "Cambridge, Nov. 22, 183 1. Very many happy re- 
 turns of the day to you, dearest Maria ! and on very 
 many iyths and 22ds of November may you and Augus- 
 tus drink each other's healths, each of you blest in see- 
 ing the other by your side, both of you blest in living 
 amid a flock to whom you are administering the comforts 
 of earth, and whom you are guiding towards the bliss of 
 heaven. Dearest Maria, it is a great joy to think that 
 one of my brothers, the dearest of them, is blest with the 
 choicest gift that Heaven can bestow, a good and loving 
 wife. For myself, though I know full well how to prize 
 it, though there is nothing on earth that my heart reveres 
 so much as the graces of womanly virtue, my destiny 
 has cut out a path for me, from which I can only gaze 
 at it from afar, but which, God be thanked, has many 
 pleasures of its own, far more than enough to content 
 any heart, not a prey to morbid cravings. Still, I re- 
 joice most heartily that one of my brothers has met with 
 the goodlier lot, the choicer happiness ; and may God 
 bless you, Maria, for being the source of it, for making 
 Augustus so happy ! I wish I could give you my greet 
 ings by word of mouth, and could drink your healths ii 
 your presence. As it is, I must content myself witl 
 doing so in my lonely tower ; and yet I ought not to cal 
 
SUNSHINE. 155 
 
 it lonely ; for it is thronged with immortals, though the 
 outward shell of mortality is rarely seen in it. 
 
 " When you come here next spring, < and, as you 
 have set your mind upon dragging me away from my 
 beautiful rooms to Hurstmonceaux, in order that you 
 may stay in your beautiless parsonage of Alton, you posi- 
 tively must not put off coming here, God willing, beyond 
 the coming out of the leaves next spring, you must 
 make yourself at home here for at least a week, and 
 then you will have time to find- out what noble-minded 
 persons I am living among. 
 
 "Edward Stanley seemed thoroughly well pleased 
 with his stay here, and told me that our great men were 
 the best people . he had ever met with, talking wisdom 
 and nonsense in the same breath, and with the same 
 unconstraint, and pouring out their knowledge as liberally 
 as if it was dross." 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Penrhos, Nov. 15, 1831. My week of solitude, un- 
 like yours, has seemed only a day long. I have done 
 so much Greek. No study ever came in one's way at a 
 better time ; it puts every thing else out of my head and 
 makes the hours fly : and living as I do so much alone 
 in thoughts and interests, though with many round, it is 
 very wholesome to have some one engrossing study; 
 and to look steadily at the times before us, with the 
 almost certain approach of cholera, requires a steady 
 and continual practice of Faith, which, though I can 
 enforce strongly, I shrink from at times myself in look- 
 ing forward to all that may be in store for those I love. 
 One thing always will come into my prayers, that if 
 the cholera does come, it may not reach Alton. 
 
I56 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Augustus would be ashamed of me (though you will 
 not) if he knew how I delight in all the smallest things 
 you can tell me about him, the Mia, and Alton. You 
 need never fear speaking of him, though it be in praise. 
 Remember I have - lived under the same roof for three 
 months, and love him so much, that I can well under- 
 stand your loving him almost too much. If all Christian 
 pastors were like him, there would be a different spirit 
 in England now. The seed you are now sowing in 
 Alton will not be lost, but after many years of persever- 
 ance and trial, with God's blessing on your labor, may 
 we not hope a little Christian band of rescued souls will, 
 from that apparently barren soil, enter into heaven, there 
 to prove your crown of rejoicing? " 
 
 "Dec. 29. Your note has just come. Such brings 
 sometimes more comfort and love and healing on its 
 wings than pages of writing. If much talking is bad, a 
 word in season is very good. If God indeed is our God, 
 we do well to rejoice, but very ill to complain of any 
 little passing trouble. It is in the storm and amid the 
 rocks that the Anchor and Beacon are most prized, and 
 many a blessed promise in the Bible would remain a 
 sealed promise, if the key of sorrow, or trial, or tempta- 
 tion, were not sent to open its stores, and send warm to 
 one's heart such words as, 'Be of good cheer, it is I, 
 be not afraid.' 
 
 ... "I have been trying lately to like old Jeremy 
 as well as I do Leighton, because Augustus does, but I 
 cannot help finding my greatest delight in the meek and 
 spiritually minded Leighton. Jeremy puts a great staff 
 into my hand, but Leighton does the same, and at the 
 same time puts a rose into the other hand." 
 
SUNSHINE. 157 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Jan. 22, 1832. Augustus has now an evening 
 school on Mondays, and studies as much for it as if it 
 was a scientific work, in all the school-books, to learn 
 the best mode of drawing out the sluggish understand- 
 ing of his untaught lads. It has always been a subject 
 of reproach to me that we had made no attempts to 
 teach this class, who are above the Sunday school in age, 
 though far below it in knowledge, and the prospect of 
 confirmation just gives us a handle for instructing them. 
 There are many grown people who express a wish to be 
 confirmed, and we shall not dissuade them, as it affords 
 a pretext for talking and reading to them, and enforcing 
 an examination into the state of their souls, and may 
 eventually lead them to come to the Lord's Supper with 
 fewer scruples and more hope of benefit. Every way 
 opened for one is so good a thing, for it requires some 
 courage, and, I fear, more boldness than we have, to press 
 the subject on people uncalled for. 
 
 " Jan. 9. The master began his sermon on New 
 Year's Day by telling the people what was meant in the 
 world by ' a happy new year,' and then dilated on what 
 he wished for them by the expression, in referring to that 
 blessing as including all he could most desire to be 
 granted them, and explaining to them all it included. It 
 was a very happy New Year's Day, and the first week of 
 1832 has been most blessed. Every day we seem to 
 grow happier and more united, and often do I tremble 
 and turn away from the thought that it is so, in dread of 
 its being thought fit to withdraw it from us. 
 
 "I quite long for you to read Neander. To be sure 
 it does make one groan over the change from early 
 Christianity, and yet he is so fair and impartial, he does 
 
158 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 not in the least attempt to conceal that human nature was 
 then just the same as now, just as prone to set itself 
 up and rest in the change produced by forms, just as 
 ready to slacken its zeal whenever persecution lessened. 
 Neander thinks so much more of the inward than outward 
 service, that you will see he is not very orthodox according 
 to our Church on outward forms of government, &c, but 
 the Christian life he does set forth most beautifully, and 
 I can hardly conceive a person reading through his book 
 and not feeling more impressed with the feeling and 
 understanding of what spiritual Christianity ought to be, 
 and how it should leaven our whole life, and amalgamate, 
 itself with our habits. In a passage quoted from Ter- 
 tullian on the blessings of a Christian marriage, you will, 
 I hope, think of us. About prayer it is excellent. I will 
 quote a passage as a specimen : ' The spirit of thankful- 
 ness to a heavenly redeeming Father, the spirit of child- 
 like resignation to Him, the feeling in regard to Him of 
 the needfulness of his assistance, and the consciousness 
 of being nothing and being able to do nothing without 
 Him, must animate the whole Christian life. This life 
 must, therefore, be a continued thanksgiving for the 
 grace of redemption, a prayer of constant longing after 
 an increase of holiness by communion with the Re- 
 deemer. This was the view of prayer which the New 
 Testament was designed to substitute in the place of 
 that which had previously prevailed." 
 
 Augustus W. Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "We have just got Arnold's second volume. As far 
 as I have seen them, the sermons are quite a model : 
 they are aimed with great care and skill at the congrega- 
 tion he is addressing, and he generally hits between wind 
 
SUNSHINE. 159 
 
 and water. You must read them . . . He ought 
 to be a bishop ; though his promotion will occasion a 
 great outcry. An excellent high-churchman said of him 
 the other day, ' I know him and revere his virtues ; but 
 I will not buy his book : I may perhaps look into it ; for 
 he is just the man to do incalculable mischief.' So was 
 said of Wilberforce ; so was said of Luther j so will ever 
 be said of those clear-voiced men whom God raises up 
 from time to time to speak plainly in the ears of his 
 sleeping people." 
 
 The intimate knowledge which Augustus Hare 
 had now attained of all the family and domestic 
 interests of his parishioners had drawn the tie be- 
 tween pastor and people at Alton so very close ; 
 and the grateful affection with which they regarded 
 him, the warm welcome with which they greeted 
 him on his morning walks (for the very small size 
 of the place enabled him to visit almost every cot- 
 tage daily), had brought the Alton villagers so near 
 his heart, that he looked forward with dread to any 
 possibility of separation, and felt that in any other 
 event, except that of the wardenship of Winchester 
 being offered to him, a post for which he felt 
 himself peculiarly qualified, and whose duties he 
 could not venture to evade, he could not endure 
 to be separated from them. No pecuniary advan- 
 tages could weigh in his mind against the comfort 
 of his quiet home, a home which was not so 
 much marked by any outward site, as its founda- 
 tions were laid deep within the hearts of his peo- 
 ple. Thus the prospect of the rich family living of 
 
l6o RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Hurstmonceaux, in view of which he had married, 
 and which he knew would be offered to him by his 
 brother, upon the death of his uncle Robert Hare, 
 had ceased to afford him any pleasure. Unlike his 
 brothers, whose affections clung around its old 
 castle, and who were attached by the associations 
 of childhood to its every field and wood, Hurstmon- 
 ceaux had never been his home. He had only 
 been there on occasional summer visits with Lady 
 Jones, and associated the place with his mother's 
 increasing struggles against poverty and ill health, 
 and her complaints of the rudeness and uncouth- 
 ness of its people, who were contrasted by her with 
 the grateful peasantry, to whom she had been ac- 
 customed near her villa at Bologna. He remem- 
 bered also, that his mother herself, as she observed 
 the nervous susceptibility and delicate refinement 
 of her little Augustus, had felt how unfitted he 
 would be to cope with such a people as that of 
 Hurstmonceaux then was, and how much she 
 would prefer seeing him established elsewhere, and 
 her quick and ardent Julius in the family living. 
 All these circumstances Augustus had for the last 
 year urged upon his brother Julius, entreating him 
 to take the richer living, when it fell vacant, and to 
 leave him undisturbed in the humble rectory of 
 Alton. 
 
 Since the death of Lady Jones, to whom he had 
 been most tenderly attached, and with whom he 
 had been in the habit of staying whenever he could 
 get away from Cambridge, Julius Hare had had no 
 
SUNSHINE. l6l 
 
 other home than his beautiful rooms in the tower 
 overlooking the Lime Avenue at the back of Trin- 
 ity College. Here he had rejoiced in the constant 
 society of a noble band of friends, Whewell, Wors- 
 ley, Peacock, Thirlwall, Sedgwick, and, in a 
 younger generation, Sterling, Trench, Maurice, 
 and Cavendish. 
 
 At this time, also, the professor of Italian at 
 Cambridge was the Marchese Spinetta, whose 
 clever and charming wife had been a Miss Camp- 
 bell, of Craigie. With her, in great measure, lived 
 her handsome sister, Jane, widow of Sir Thomas 
 Munro, Governor of Madras, who had died in India 
 in 1827. A close intimacy with the Spinettas led, 
 two years after his separation from his cousin, Mrs. 
 Dashwood, to the second engagement of Julius 
 Hare with Lady Munro, an engagement which 
 lasted for many years, far into his Hurstmonceaux 
 life. 
 
 Julius Hare to Maria Hare (inserted here as belonging to the 
 subject.) 
 
 " Trinity , August 30, 1831. I have two long letters 
 to thank you for, dearest Maria, and both of them, 
 especially the latter, are exceedingly delightful and 
 affectionate. The subject of that latter one being so 
 much the most important, I will say a few words about 
 it first. Much that Augustus said, and many of your 
 arguments, have had very considerable weight with me. 
 If my blessed mother's plan was really such as he says, 
 and events, in spite of apparent obstacles, have thus, in 
 a manner, been working together for its fulfilment, I 
 
 K 
 
l62 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 should be most loath to hinder it, for the slightest expres- 
 sion of her will would be to me like the law of heaven. 
 The greater fitness of a small parish for Augustus's 
 health, I also admit. I believe, too, there is a greater 
 likelihood of working with efficiency in your parish than 
 at Hurstmonceaux, where, from all I hear, the flock are 
 in a very wild state, almost at enmity with their shep- 
 herd. Your farmers again are a good deal more trac- 
 table than my uncle's. All this, on thinking over the 
 matter, I see clearly ; but, on the other hand, I do not 
 like to think of you shut up for life in that beautiless, 
 uninteresting country, with your no garden. The house 
 might do very passably ; but the no garden to me would 
 be an insuperable objection. However, of course it 
 must rest with you to balance between the advantages 
 and disadvantages of your present station j if, when 
 Hurstmonceaux becomes vacant, you still prefer remain- 
 ing where you are, it will then be my duty to think 
 about taking it. Remember, however, that nothing that 
 has passed is to be considered by you as imposing any 
 obligation upon either of you. You are at the most per- 
 fect liberty to change your mind to-morrow, next month, 
 next year, or whenever the living falls ; you excite no 
 expectations in me, no wishes, and consequently you 
 will disappoint none. I am always averse to forming 
 plans, to making decisions about the future, which the 
 very next month may utterly frustrate ; and more espe- 
 cially in the present state of England, how impossible is 
 it to calculate what will be the state of any living in 
 England, or whether there will be any livings at all, 
 next year ! If the Birmingham political union take it 
 into their heads to say there shall not, our ministers and 
 our parliament will crouch before them, and execute 
 
SUNSHINE. 163 
 
 their decree. So far as concerns myself, I should 
 be very sorry were any event to happen soon which 
 would take me away from my present station. And this 
 leads me to your very kind sisterly admonition. Now 
 both you and Augustus seem to me to have forgotten 
 that, according to the principles and the universal prac- 
 tice of our Church, the education of youth at both schools 
 and universities is especially intrusted to the care of her 
 ministers ; so that he who is engaged in that office is 
 laboring in his vocation. These principles and this prac- 
 tice seem to me to be perfectly justifiable and right. It 
 is a narrow notion of the duties of the Christian minis- 
 try to conceive that a Christian minister is not following 
 his calling unless he is employed in pastoral duties ; 
 though these are perhaps the noblest and heavenliest 
 part of his office. So that if you tell me I am not per- 
 forming my duty as Christ's minister, I will answer, Yes. 
 But that is owing to my own weakness and waywardness, 
 and is no way chargeable on the post where I am stand- 
 ing. It is perfectly true that the welfare of England, 
 perhaps her very existence, depends mainly on the activ- 
 ity and zeal of her ministers, and on God's blessing 
 prospering their endeavors. But it is also of great im- 
 portance, more especially at this season of the intellect- 
 ual chaos, that the fountain-heads of knowledge should 
 be under proper care, and that the young men who go 
 forth by hundreds every year to act in their several call- 
 ings should be duly stored with sound principles. Such 
 being the case, I think it may fairly be left open to any 
 individual to select that sphere of the ministerial duties 
 on which he chooses to enter \ supposing his choice be 
 regulated not by caprice or indolence, but by a calm 
 weighing of his own qualifications, and of the good he is 
 
I64 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 likely to accomplish. Now it seems to me that the task 
 I am engaged in is of all others the one I am best fitted 
 for, by such talents and acquirements as I possess ; and 
 little as may be the good I do here, I think God has 
 so constituted me that I might do more good here than 
 I could in any other station. At the same time, by 
 peculiarly fortunate circumstances of time and place, by 
 being in this glorious college, and having such noble 
 contemporaries, I am most singularly blest. Several 
 times in the course of last summer, in conversing with 
 persons I became acquainted with, and hearing them 
 speak of their situation, did my heart bound with grati- 
 tude for my singularly favored lot. It would be a sad 
 exchange to give up my beautiful rooms, my friends 
 whose converse strengthens and steadies my mind, and 
 the brother of my heart, Worsley, whose bright face 
 kindles a feeling of the same sort in me every time he 
 enters my room, whose step is so gladdening a sound on 
 my stairs, for the dismal solitude of that great, big house, 
 with not even a cottage within half a mile of it, and not 
 a soul nearer than my friend Townsend at Brighton, 
 with whom I should have a thought in common. I speak 
 with the utmost sincerity, when I say I do not think I 
 should make an efficient parish priest. I know not 
 what, but there is an incapacity about me for conversing 
 with the lower orders ; part of it may be constitutional ; 
 habit may have much increased it ; the very nature of 
 my pursuits, of my studies and speculations, withdraws 
 me more than others from the commerce of ordinary 
 thought. I find a great difficulty in carrying on a conver- 
 sation except with a very few of my friends : my thoughts 
 don't seem to move in the same line as theirs ; my views, 
 my interests, seem to be so different ; it is hard to find 
 
SUNSHINE. 165 
 
 a point of union. This grows upon me year by year. I 
 know not how to check it ; and I fear I should never get 
 over it. I fear I should never learn to talk to the poor 
 as they ought to be talked to ; in time, perhaps, I might 
 learn to preach to them ; but that you know is a very 
 small part of what a parish priest has to do. Thank 
 you again, dearest Maria, for your very kind, sisterly 
 letter. I have tried to show you that it is not mere self- 
 ishness that makes me averse to exchange, and that I 
 am at a post where, if I work zealously, I shall be act- 
 ing the part of a Christian minister. At all events, you 
 will see that it is very, very questionable whether you 
 would be consulting my happiness in placing me at 
 Hurstmonceaux ; and therefore you must not allow such 
 a notion to have any weight with you in refusing it." 
 
 The news of Mr. Robert Hare's death arrived at 
 Alton on the 27th of February, 1832; but before 
 that time, having obtained the consent of his 
 brother Francis to the transfer, Augustus had se- 
 cured the promise of Julius that he would accept 
 the living of Hurstmonceaux. Both brothers went 
 into Sussex to attend their uncle's funeral. Thence 
 Augustus returned happy to Alton, and Julius 
 made up his mind to leave Cambridge, but decided 
 .upon spending a year in Italy before entering upon 
 the duties of his parish. 
 
 Maria Hare to Augustus W. Hare. 
 
 "Feb. 29, 1832. The eight o'clock coffee is just 
 finished, such a good new loaf, pity the dear master is 
 not here ! And now I may talk to the dearest Augustus 
 without fear of interruption. He knows full well how the 
 
l66 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 fountain is bubbling up at the very thought of him, and 
 how ready it is to pour itself over on the paper. I should 
 like to know where you are this evening, whether at 
 some dirty inn, or at Julius's Rectory. God be with you 
 wherever you are, and watch over you, and bring you 
 safe back to the loving wine, the dearest, the Mia. I 
 think she cannot ever have loved you before when you 
 have been away. It was only make-believe. Now it is 
 real, if there is reality in any thing." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Feb. 29, 1832. You will guess what we felt on 
 Monday when the packet of letters came in, and three 
 with black seals at once convinced us what had hap- 
 pened. Certainly, the first sensation was joy, to think 
 that every thing was settled, and that there was no longer 
 a question left about our leaving Alton. We could not 
 help putting ourselves in a different situation, and fancy- 
 ing what we should have felt had it been otherwise ; and 
 I think Julius would have been quite satisfied, had he 
 heard us, that we had acted for our own comfort. I 
 daresay with the additional income we should not have 
 been able to do half so much for our people there, and 
 so much would have had to be spent in imprqfitable ways ; 
 and when we were vainly striving to excite some feeling 
 amongst a scattered people living at a distance, how # 
 often should we have thought of our little family at 
 Alton with regret and sorrow. No : I am quite certain 
 we have decided for our own happiness, and, hoping as 
 we do, that it may be a means of calling forth all Julius's 
 power for the good of others, I cannot think we have 
 been wrong in following our own inclinations." 
 
 "March 13 {Sunday evening). This has been so 
 

 SUNSHINE. 167 
 
 beautiful a day, that as I was walking about the fields 
 between services, and studying my afternoon's lesson for 
 the children, it made me seem to see you and your class 
 under the trees on those lovely summer Sundays last 
 year. I do love a fine Sunday ; it seems to cheer and 
 lighten the way to God's house, and fill one's heart with 
 deeper thoughtfulness, to know all alike can enjoy it \ 
 and the dear Augustus was so earnest, and applied his 
 subject so home, that I do trust the seed might not fall 
 quite in vain on some hearts present." 
 
 Julius Hare to Maria Hare.. 
 
 * " Trinity, March 9, 1831. Your sisterly letter came 
 at a time when it was most acceptable ; for, finding that 
 half measures, as usual, were good for nothing, I betook 
 myself to my bed altogether last Friday, determined not 
 to leave it till my foot had regained its usual dimensions. 
 You will, perhaps, tell me that my malady lias sent to 
 convince me that a college is not quite such an Elysium 
 as I appeared to fancy, and that, at all events, it is a bad 
 place to be ill in. To be sure, as Worsley is not here, I 
 have had a very great number of lonely hours these last 
 three weeks, seldom interrupted except by a flying visit 
 of inquiry or two ; and with no great aversion to solitude, 
 still, not being in a plight for hard-working, I should not 
 have been sorry to have heard a little more of the human 
 voice. The letters of my friends, however, and espe- 
 cially, as women know best how to comfort a sick-bed, 
 of my female, friends, have supplied me with a de- 
 lightful substitute for it \ and, among them, yours has 
 chimed in very sweetly with those I "have received from 
 Anna and Lady Munro. What I said to Augustus will 
 have proved to you, that unless he has changed his 
 
1 68 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 mind, which I did not think likely, mine is made up. 
 As I was talking to Thirl wall on the subject the other 
 day, and speaking of my happy removal hither, and of 
 the well-spent ten years I have passed here, he said, 
 1 Yes, this has been a very pleasant Purgatory ; may 
 your next removal be to a Paradise ! ' This struck me 
 the more, superstitious as I am, from its coincidence 
 with the expression I made use of in my letter to Augus- 
 tus. Be this, however, as it may, whether Hurstmon- 
 ceaux is to be a paradise to me or a wilderness, or, as is 
 more likely, something between the two, my lot is now 
 cast. I am to quit this goodly college, with all its goodly 
 inmates, and to take up my rest there, in all probability 
 for life. Indeed, when I have once grown familiar to it, 
 I think hardly any thing in the world would ever induce 
 me to leave it. I agree entirely with you that ' a life of 
 mere literary activity is not all that is required from a 
 minister oi Christ's Church ; ' indeed, for my own part, 
 I do not think a life of mere literary activity can be 
 wholesome for anybody, it ought always to be combined 
 more or less with practical activity. If I were not en- 
 gaged in tuition, I would grant to you that my present 
 life is not suited to my profession ; but, by the practice 
 of our Church, as well as that of the Roman Catholic, 
 the education of youth has been consigned almost exclu- 
 sively to the clergy ; nor do I think it at all desirable 
 that the clergy who are employed in this task should 
 combine it with the cure of souls. That this practice 
 of committing education to the clergy is wise and 
 wholesome, I do not think you will deny : if you do, I 
 will leave Augustus to prove to you that it is so; but 
 this you leave wholly out of sight in your objections to 
 my merely literary life. The question then ought to be, 
 
SUNSHINE. 169 
 
 there being these two posts for a clergyman to fill, for 
 which I am the fittest, naturally and by my acquire- 
 ments ? I fear such a question must be answered in 
 favor of my staying where I am, so that I have many 
 scruples of conscience to mingle with my numerous 
 personal regrets. However, as it is the sad wedding 
 that makes the happy marriage, so he who feels no pain 
 at leaving one home, is never likely to find, and indeed 
 does not deserve, to find another. Happy are they who 
 discover objects of interest and attachment wheresoever 
 it pleases God to place them ; and I believe He has 
 blest me with the power of doing so in rather more than 
 an ordinary degree. 
 
 " It was singular that it was only on the Saturday night 
 I sent to Thirlwall the last page of our second volume 
 of ' Niebuhr,' containing our little prefatory note, and 
 on the Sunday morning I heard of my uncle's death. 
 But there is still a third volume to come ; and I am 
 already engaged in the Philological Museum, which, 
 though I trust it will not stop, will hardly go on so well 
 when I am removed from its immediate superintend- 
 ence ; yet I should be sorry to see it discontinued, now 
 that, after having been so many years projecting it, I 
 have at length started it, and in such flourishing plight. 
 Perhaps Thirlwall will undertake some portion of the 
 editorial cares, as, I rejoice to say, he is to succeed me 
 as lecturer, and probably in my rooms, unless Whewell 
 does so, so that I shall have a rich fulfilment of that 
 noble prayer : ' May my successors be worthier and 
 better than I.' However, while these rooms are still 
 mine, you must positively come and see them. I 
 should like to have the leaves out when you are here, 
 so that you may see my avenue in its beauty ; and I 
 8 
 
170 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 should like too, if possible, to manage that you should 
 be here with Lady Munro." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, March 19, 1832. I have enjoyed a little 
 visit to Oxford much, partly because I saw so many 
 people that it was pleasant both to see and hear, and 
 partly from the pleasure of seeing the dear Augustus so 
 pleased. Many of the people you will not care to hear 
 about. They were interesting to me chiefly from having 
 for many years been associated with Augustus, and from 
 the interest they seemed to feel in seeing him again. 
 But there were one or two people that I wished for you 
 to see and hear with me. One was Mr. Pusey, the 
 Hebrew Professor. I had a good deal of conversation 
 with him, and was much delighted with his extreme 
 goodness and modesty. All he said about the poor, 
 about a country clergyman's life, of which he spoke 
 with envy, was so right feeling, and his manner was so 
 encouraging, that I felt as if I could have said any 
 thing to him ; there was truly in him the humility of 
 deep learning. He talked to Augustus about Neander, 
 with whom he had lived as much as he could when in 
 Germany, and said it was of such as him he was 
 thinking when he praised the theologians of Germany, 
 and not of the Rosenmiillers, &c, whom he had been 
 accused of favoring." 
 
 Julius Hare to Maria Hark 
 
 " Trinity, April 4, 1832. Alas, what sad tidings the 
 papers contain ! The mightiest spirit that this earth has 
 seen, since Shakespeare left it, is departed. * But he de- 
 parted just like himself, in the perfect healthful possession 
 of all his faculties, as a man who has fulfilled the duties 
 
 
SUNSHINE. I/I 
 
 of the day, and falls into calm sleep after it ; and even 
 his last moments were moments of enjoyment, he was 
 just expressing the pleasure he felt in the genial warmth 
 of the spring. What a pleasure it would be to possess 
 the arm-chair in which Goethe closed his eyes, after 
 having gazed on all that this world could produce, and 
 behold, * to him it was very good,' and I doubt not that 
 to the very last moments he felt the truth of his favorite 
 stanza : 
 
 * Liegt dir gestern klar und offen, 
 
 Wirkst du heute froh und frei ; 
 
 Kannst auch auf ein morgen hoffen, 
 
 Das nicht minder gliicklich sey.' 
 
 Dear, glorious old man, would I had seen him before he 
 was taken away ; would I had heard his voice, and be- 
 held the calm majesty of his face. 
 
 "What if the thought has just struck me we erect 
 a joint Hare monument to our mother and aunt in Hurst- 
 monceaux church ? That would be appropriately a Hare 
 monument ; and I think it seems likely to be the place 
 with which we are to be most intimately connected, and 
 if there is to be another generation of us, we may teach 
 them to venerate the two blessed sisters, our double 
 mother." 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 "May 11, 1832. I have been looking in Heber's 
 journal for all he says of Lady Munro. How highly he 
 speaks of her, and the estimation in which she was held, 
 also her beauty and pleasing manners. She must be the 
 most likely person possible for Julius to like. You would 
 like to have such a sister, and one who knew Reginald, 
 too, in India. Now, dearest, I have written enough to 
 
172 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 show that I think of my darlings when they are absent 
 from their cage, but shall much congratulate them when 
 they hop into it again, and the song is sung, and the 
 perch returned to." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, May 26, 1832. I have no need to say one 
 word of description to my dearest Luce. On many an 
 evening as lovely as this have you sat out with me on the 
 little peaceful grass-plat, and listened to the blackbirds, 
 and enjoyed the extreme quiet and shade of our little 
 home. On many such an evening have you walked up 
 the toilsome hill, and sucked in greedily the little breezes 
 of fresh air that met one at the top j and then, when we 
 had come down the green path of the corn-field, we called 
 in at Brown's cottage, and found John with prayer-book 
 or Bible in his hand, and said a few words of comfort to 
 poor Mary. Just so have the dear Augustus and I spent 
 this delightful close of a summer's day j and often does it 
 make me think of you, to return so exactly to the blessed 
 days of last year, only wanting you to enjoy them with 
 us. Nor did we the less miss you as we drove along the 
 lanes yesterday evening in the Dull carriage, and I could 
 almost have fancied you seated in the vacant seat, re- 
 peating Keble as we went along. The joy of getting 
 home, and in such weather, was, as you may guess, very 
 great ; for we have been in so many different places, and 
 seen so many people, that it seems a very long time since 
 we went away; and, surely, no pleasure we have had 
 during our absence has given us half the gratification of 
 hearing poor sick Charles Gale's expressions of joy at 
 hearing our carriage-wheels, and thinking it must be Mr. 
 Hare, or of being told by so many that they have ' missed 
 
SUNSHINE. 173 
 
 us desperate? Yet, much as we enjoy our return, I do 
 not regret that we have been away. It is wholesome, 
 both for mind and body, to have the variety and change 
 of scene, air, and society, and gives us food for future 
 reflection, as well as making us begin our work here 
 again with greater zest from the temporary break. I 
 believe it is quite necessary, for one's own individual 
 good, to mix occasionally in the concerns of Earth. It 
 draws forth other, and often more trying, points of 
 character than are called out in retirement, and is very 
 humbling to one's inner man in showing how hard it is 
 to be tolerant when others differ from us, how difficult to 
 be charitable when one's own standard is not followed. 
 That we are, not from any merits of ours, but from God's 
 good pleasure, placed far away from the temptations and 
 trials of the world, I do most gratefully feel as a most 
 merciful privilege and favor; but, at the same time, I 
 am fully aware that there remain temptations and trials 
 within us, quite sufficient to make us watch and fear, and 
 that we must be more diligent in our inward search, since 
 the outside has much less need of cleansing ; and I do 
 not think I ever return to our happy life without feeling 
 as if the absence had strengthened and confirmed me in 
 my love for heavenly things, and taught me to know my- 
 self better. 
 
 "Julius's rooms at Cambridge are most perfect, look- 
 ing as they do down that glorious avenue, and the Gothic 
 windows are filled with beautiful geraniums, &c. ; his 
 walls literally lined and papered with books, except one 
 side, over the fire-place, where Raphael's ' Madonna and 
 Child,' and two or three other good pictures are. I fully 
 enter into his feeling of the unworldliness, the freedom 
 from care, the leisure afforded by such a life, and with 
 
174 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 him the warmth of friendship keeps alive the affections, 
 which, in general, must lie dormant in a college ; yet I 
 shall be much surprised if, after two or three years of his 
 country life at Hurstmonceaux, Julius has not received 
 more of real happiness than in many years at Trinity." 
 
 Augustus W. Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear so bad an account of the church 
 at Leamington j but it is one of the advantages of our 
 good church, that we (meaning by ' we ' the educated) 
 are only very partially dependent on the qualifications 
 of the minister. If he can read, and most clergymen 
 can do that much, he must read the liturgy, all his 
 stupidity, if he be stupid, all his carelessness, if he 
 be careless, cannot unmake that- into any thing un- 
 scriptural or undevotional. And as to the sermon, 
 Herbert has said enough about that ; you know Who, 
 according to him, when the preacher is incapable, takes 
 up the text and 'preaches patience.' 
 
 " The day after to-morrow, Julius reads in at Hurst- 
 monceaux. God speed him in his new vocation ! I 
 cannot regret that he should be likely to travel with 
 Landor, though I do regret the abuse I hear of the 
 latter. Southey, and when I mention him I mention 
 one .of the first literary men in England as to sterling 
 moral worth, has the following passage about Landor in 
 his ' Vindiciae Ecclesiae Anglicanas : ' ' Walter Landor, 
 whem I have pride as well as pleasure in calling my 
 friend.' And this is .the man who has been described 
 as being ' without honesty and principle ! ' I wish that I 
 could speak publicly in defence of a man whose heart I 
 know to be so large and overflowing ; though much of the 
 
SUNSHINE. 175 
 
 water, from not having the branch which Moses would 
 have shewn him thrown into it, has unhappily been 
 made bitter by circumstances. But when the stream 
 gushes forth from his natural affections, it is sweet and 
 plentiful, and as strong almost as a mill-stream. For 
 his love partakes of the violence of his character ; and 
 when he gives it a free course, there is" enough of it to 
 fill a dozen such hearts as belong to the ordinary man 
 of pleasure, and man of money, and man of philosophy, 
 and to set the upper and nether mill-stones in them 
 a-working. The loss of Missolunghi, a friend of his who 
 was at Florence at the time told me, made him ill for 
 a fortnight. 'He ought to have been more resigned,' 
 some respectable man would say at hearing this. Per- 
 haps, sir, he ought : perhaps he felt too much ; but what 
 shall we say then of those who felt too little, who felt 
 nothing? What shall we say of the tens and hundreds 
 of thousands of Englishmen who did not eat a mouthful 
 of toast, or drink a spoonful of tea the less, for hearing of 
 the subversion of a Christian fortress, and the destruc- 
 tion of its heroic garrison by hordes of barbarous un- 
 believers ? And what I so strongly feel is, that while 
 our estimate of ourselves must be the strict standard of 
 the Gospel, our estimate of others must be comparative. 
 He who feels any wrong, or cruel, or base thing more 
 than others, and would go further to prevent it, must 
 always have my good word.' And being such a one, I 
 must continue to value Walter Landor, while praying 
 that the good he has already may be improved and hal- 
 lowed, and that from being a man of men which he now 
 is, he may be changed and lifted into being a man of 
 God. Doubtless, there are passages in his ' Dialogues ' 
 
I76 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 which I should wish away j and, amongst them, most 
 of his attacks (and they are incessant where the subject 
 admits of them) upon Popery. I do not like pulling 
 and tugging at even a decayed branch of a fruit-tree, 
 lest the tree itself should be shaken, and some of the 
 fruit should drop oif." 
 
XL 
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 
 
 "A religious life is not a thing which spends itself like 
 a bright bubble on the river's surface. It is rather like the 
 river itself, which widens continually, and is never so broad 
 or deep as where it rolls into the ocean of eternity." 
 Beecher. 
 
 r I ^HE remembrance of the summer at Tenby 
 *" was always a source of peculiar pleasure to 
 my dearest mother, because she thought that when 
 they were together there, her father first learnt to 
 appreciate and love her husband, to whose marriage 
 with his daughter he had given a most reluctant 
 consent, and with whom he had never got beyond 
 a mere outside acquaintance, during the short 
 summer visits at Stoke. She greatly rejoiced in 
 the sensation which was created in the little town, 
 whenever her husband preached in Tenby Church, 
 as an opportunity of showing her father and Mrs. 
 Oswald Leycester how much he was appreciated 
 by others. And for herself, the summer was filled 
 with days of entire enjoyment, spent in rambling 
 with him amongst the rocky coves, sketching in 
 their caverns, or in longer excursions to Pembroke, 
 and Carew, and to Manobeer, where Augustus cut 
 
 8* L 
 
178 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 his name, and that of his Mia upon the ruin, and 
 declared that if she were taken from him he should 
 return to live there as a hermit, as the most utterly 
 , desolate place that he knew. Each day's compan- 
 ionship increased the delight which they derived 
 from each other, and their entire unity already be- 
 gan to make their friends tremble as to what the 
 effect of any separation might be upon the one who 
 was left. This was peculiarly the case with Lucy 
 Stanley. Speaking of the life which the Parrys 
 were now leading at Tahlee, in Australia, she wrote 
 at this time : 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal ("The Green Book"). 
 
 "Tenby, Sept. 23, 1832. Why is it that ruins of old 
 buildings, independently of their picturesque effect to 
 the eye, interest and please us so much ? May it not be 
 that they form a link between God's works and man's, 
 having by time and the operations of nature become 
 harmonized, softened, and in some sort likened to rocks 
 and picturesque objects of natural beauty, whilst retain- 
 ing the associations of former animate life? awakening 
 within us imaginations of what has been, and calling up 
 those feelings of sympathy for times gone by, and people 
 who have lived before us, which in the ordinary course 
 of life are altogether put aside. The suspicion and 
 jealousy with which a pious mind perhaps is inclined to 
 look at the works of mere man's creation is here lulled 
 to sleep, by the approach which such remains of former 
 glory seem to make to works fresh from the almighty 
 hand. There is none of the hardness, the limitation, 
 and the consideration of worldly interest, visible in the 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 1 79 
 
 broken fragments left, which in a complete building fit 
 for present use seems to draw the mind only to earth 
 and its cares and pursuits. All harsh lines are done 
 away, and the roof of open sky seems to connect the 
 perishing materials of earth with the hopes of heaven. 
 God's finger seems to have been at work here, no less 
 in causing the decay of human art, than it appears else- 
 where in the formation and arrangement of what are 
 styled Nature's works, and wherever that finger is clearly 
 visible, then one is inclined to admire in adoration. 
 If we looked deeper into things, doubtless we should 
 oftener trace that finger j but we are very much influ- 
 enced by external things, and look not within : else how 
 much should we find to glorify God in, from the works 
 of man, proceeding as they do from the most glorious 
 work of God, the mind of man." 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Penrhos, Oct. 3, 1832. Welcome back to . Alton, 
 my darling. In your ' goings out and comings in ' I 
 follow you in spirit very closely. If you saw how I read 
 your letters over and over again, in the house, in 
 the tower, on the rocks, you would think they were 
 well bestowed. ... I am now come up into my 
 tower for the morning, a wild stormy day, with driving 
 rain, and break up of the summer weather. I have just 
 read the chapter for the day, and I hope you have done 
 the same ; I like to think the same verse may perhaps 
 be encouragement and comfort to each, though in a 
 different way. The verse I stopped at just now was, 
 ' and He saw them toiling in rowing, for the wind was 
 contrary to them.' It has been my case lately ; though 
 outwardly our sea may look smooth, and the tempta- 
 
l80 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 tions and hindrances be such as the world cannot under- 
 stand, we may nevertheless be ' toiling very hard,' feeling 
 the wind to be so contrary we scarcely make any way 
 at all. And then, if the winds from without lull a little, 
 a heavy ground-swell from within comes on, and the 
 poor vessel almost forgets it has an Anchor ready, and a 
 haven worth all ' toiling ' to attain. 
 
 " There is no verse in the whole Bible that again and 
 again comes to me with such support as, * Be of good 
 cheer ; it is I; be not afraid. And He went unto them 
 into the ship, and the wind ceased.' Who ever followed 
 Christ, and could not say, Yes, many times He has come 
 into my ship, and the wind has ceased, whether it came 
 from ' fightings without,' or from ' fears within ' ? 
 
 " Last Sunday but one I went to my ' ChapeL on the 
 Rocks,' and when I came to the end of the Epistle, I 
 saw under it written, 'Alton, Sept 4, 183 1,' the last dear 
 Sunday I spent there last year, and I shut my eyes 
 to see that little church, and that blessed and beautiful 
 countenance, and the Mia by my side, and the naughty 
 school-children, and the old attentive faces ; and then I 
 opened them again on the broad blue sea before me, and 
 thanked God who had given them another year of such 
 happiness as few of his ungrateful creatures will let them- 
 selves enjoy, for He gives the same materials to many." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Alton Rectory once more, Oct. 9. The last day of 
 the fine weather, Dull brought me safe home from Bath, 
 and a delightful drive it was, with the thoughts of Alton 
 and the dear husband before me. There he was in the 
 Devizes road, all ready to welcome his Mia after our 
 three days of separation. You may guess how joyful a 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. l8l 
 
 Sunday ours was, with Augustus in the pulpit, and all 
 the listening old men and women, in the place of fine 
 bonnets and gay gowns. 
 
 "I am sure there is a good in one's absence from 
 home and the break in one's regular duties, one returns 
 to them with so much greater zest, the people are dis- 
 posed to be more pleased when they have missed us 
 much, and one begins as it were afresh with renewed 
 hope and energy, feeling all the more how blessed a 
 privilege it is to be allowed to work together as laborers, 
 however humble, in the vineyard." 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal ("The Green-Book"). 
 
 " Alton, Nov. 3. How immediately self enters into 
 every thing we think or do ? If we are in the course of 
 duty led to any exertion, however small, we are apt to 
 be puffed up by it, ' I have done this,' * I ought to be 
 thanked.' A return of good crop is expected from the 
 seed sown, and often there arises a secret wish that 
 others should know what has been done. Now this is 
 not that love 'which seeketh not her own,' and of all 
 its characteristics I suspect this is the hardest to make 
 ours. Poor and worthless as we may feel ourselves in 
 the abstract, or when comparing ourselves with the 
 standard of Truth, I fear in particulars, in the detail of 
 our lives, we are but rarely conscious how little we are. 
 And why is this ? Because ' we compare and measure 
 ourselves by ourselves,' that is, by others weak as our- 
 selves, and who may do less. And even this would not 
 be so unfair a rule as we make it, if our imaginations 
 would only invest our fancied inferiors with the advan- 
 tages and trusts committed to us, and suppose what they 
 would do then. But we take people as they are, with all 
 
1 82 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the circumstances of their relative positions unallowed 
 for, and compare our own doings with theirs, and take 
 credit to ourselves for the contrast, without bearing in 
 mind that our talents may have been five and theirs 
 one. And truly it is an awful thought to consider that 
 God's justice must weigh the means vouchsafed to his 
 creatures in the balance with their attainments when we 
 think what those means have been to us, how singularly 
 great and numerous, whilst the hindrances have been so 
 few ; and when, further, the nothingness and weakness 
 of our return is estimated without being held up by the 
 self-delusion of our own hearts." 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Alderley, Nov. 19, 1832. I have such constant 
 delight in ' Valehead Rectory,' to which I have recourse 
 again and again, when my thoughts grow downwards, 
 from mixture with this most earthly earth. The poetry 
 is beautiful, after long acquaintance, and I never close 
 the book without having gained some of the feeling for 
 which I opened it. 'Valehead Rectory' always seems 
 to me in prose what the ' Christian Year ' is in poetry, 
 and what Augustus is in human nature." 
 
 "Nov. 30, 1832. . . . Since I came back I have 
 been reading much in the works of the holy and beloved 
 Leighton. I never can read many page's of him, and 
 think of any thing else, which I can do, most unhappily, 
 with most others. He is so truly the essence of the 
 Bible, and raises one gently above the earth, and the 
 view of one's own sinful self, to the full contemplation 
 of the high standard we are aiming at Dear old Jeremy 
 always keeps me too much in contemplation of the 
 extreme ugliness of sin, and I think I can get away from 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 1 83 
 
 it most easily by fixing my eye on the * Beauty of Holi- 
 ness ; ' but both together, Leighton and Taylor, would 
 be a religious library sufficient for any Christian who 
 did not live in the fifteenth century." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, Dec. 22, 1832. I hope this may reach you 
 on Christmas Day, that it may bring us more forcibly 
 to your mind's eye, join us more earnestly in your 
 prayers, and communicate to you something of that 
 share of joy we shall be feeling with you, in the coming 
 again of that blessed season. It is a comfort to think 
 that others are feeling it with us, and that Christmas is 
 to many a quiet hidden soul bringing its glad tidings, 
 not the less surely because it is, alas, in these times, 
 only in secret that the real joy can often be felt. It is, 
 indeed, sad to think that in a Christian country, and 
 uniting as most do in Christian worship, this should be 
 so, that the Name uppermost in our hearts should not 
 be allowed to pass our lips, and that the real cause for 
 rejoicing is the one that cannot be even hinted at. But 
 we must not turn to the sadder side. Let us rather 
 think of the many thousands who have, by the first 
 coming of this day, been turned from darkness into 
 light, and of the peace and comfort to our own hearts 
 springing up with the assurance of ' a Saviour which is 
 Christ the Lord,' that He who thought it not beneath 
 Him to lie in a manger, and be subject to infant weakness 
 and human suffering, is now mediating for those whom 
 He has redeemed, watching over their struggles, and 
 sending his Spirit to guide and to help them, more 
 powerfully than when on earth He comforted his apostles 
 by words and deeds. It is, I do believe, our little faith 
 
I84 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 which chains down our thoughts to the mournful rec- 
 ollection of our own weakness, instead of leading them 
 upwards to forget ourselves in the adoration of our 
 Lord and Master, and which so prevents our feeling 
 our hearts burning within us, and makes us serious in- 
 stead of glad. When, however, we see how little there 
 is of Peace on Earth, no wonder if we are often sad \ and 
 these days of political excitement are more especially 
 unfavorable to it. We do feel most thankful to be out 
 of reach of it altogether. 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare (during an illness of 
 Augustus). 
 
 "Dec. 31, 1832. I cannot help the abiding con- 
 viction that here all will end well. Klopstock lost his 
 Meta, and George Herbert's wife was left early a widow ! 
 Still it is perhaps a great comfort when we feel that 
 sanguine hope, though we cannot always give a reason 
 for it. When the rod falls, we bow beneath it, and 
 meekly and fervently love on. We shall not, shall we, 
 be worse off, for having hoped that in our c'ase the cup 
 may for a while pass by, though we know there is no 
 reason why it should. Your Christian letters come to 
 me like angel-songs, from a brighter and purer world. 
 Yesterday I wrote you a long letter, and burnt it to-day, 
 because I thought it discontented. Oh ! if we could 
 but remember that our Master's eye is never off us, 
 that He saw his disciples ' toiling in their ships,' though 
 they knew it not. 
 
 " The church bells have .just struck up, and they are 
 ringing in the New Year j the hand of my clock is on 
 the twelve. At this moment our prayers may be ascend- 
 ing together to the throne of Grace. Almighty and 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 1 85 
 
 Blessed God, Father, Saviour, and Comforter in one, 
 bless us and keep us through the year just opened on 
 us, guide us with Thy counsel, strengthen us with 
 Thy might, and afterwards receive us into glory. To 
 Thee, O God our Saviour, be all glory, majesty, domin- 
 ion, and power, both now and ever. Amen." 
 
 In the autumn of 1832, after he had taken pos- 
 session of the living of Hurstmonceaux, and had 
 given directions for the addition of several rooms 
 to the house, Julius Hare set out for Italy with his 
 friends Worsley and Landor, visiting Holland and 
 many parts of Germany on the way. Almost all 
 the interesting letters in which he described his 
 travels and his first impressions of Rome to his 
 brother Augustus were unhappily destroyed by 
 Mrs. Julius Hare. Scarcely any memorial of this 
 journey remains but his letters to his brother 
 Francis : 
 
 Julius Hare to Francis Hare. 
 
 "Augsburg, Oct. 27, 1832. It is a month to-morrow 
 since we (that is, Landor, Worsley, and I) left London : 
 we saw the great Netherlandish towns, and the treas- 
 ures they contain, pretty well ; spent a couple of days 
 at Bonn, one at Frankfort, and another most delightful- 
 one at Nuremberg, which we all agreed in admiring 
 above all the towns we have ever seen. Landor says 
 Rome is nothing to be compared to it in point of beauty 
 and interest." 
 
 " Vicenza, Nov. 15. . . . We have been seeing 
 much, especially in the way of pictures, though of 
 course rather too rapidly ; and both Landor and Wors- 
 
1 86 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ley have been most delightful and instructive compan- 
 ions. At Munich the Gallery was closed ; but we saw 
 the Glyptotheca, Schliessheim, and Schelling, who, now 
 that Goethe and Niebuhr are gone, is without a rival 
 the first man of the age, I know not who is the sec- 
 ond. We had three glorious days at Venice, that is, in 
 the picture way, for it rained the whole time. Our last 
 morning we employed in buying. Landor got a Schia-. 
 vone for himself, and, with inimitable skill in bargaining, 
 a beautiful marriage of St. Catherine by Giovanni da 
 Udine,* and an exquisitely lovely head of St. Cecilia 
 (a Perugino, or early Raphael, Landor inclines to 
 think the latter) for me, for a hundred louis, so that 
 Hurstmonceaux will again bear witness to the family love 
 for the arts. This morning we spent at Padua. What 
 magnificent relics there are there ! The hall must have 
 been the finest room in the world, as large, to judge by 
 the eye, as Westminster Hall, and covered with paint- 
 ings by Giotto, Mantegna, and other mighty painters. 
 What a place, too, is the chapel of the Eremitani. Giotto 
 seems clearly to be, with perhaps the single exception 
 of Raphael, the greatest genius that painting has yet 
 seen, at least in the modern world.' ' 
 
 " Fiesole, Dec. n. Here at Florence, from being at 
 Landor's villa, I have not been able to do as much as I 
 might otherwise have done. But I have learnt to wor- 
 ship Raphael more devoutly and reverentially than ever, 
 and I have seen the Niobe. Many other admirable 
 things, too, have come across me. Pietro Perugino is 
 divine, but the picture at Bologna is still lovelier and 
 
 * " There was a replica of this picture exhibited at Burlington 
 House, in the Loan Exhibition of 187 1, where it was attributed 
 to Marco Basaiti, 147 0-1520. 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 1 87 
 
 heavenlier than any here. In Fra Bartolomeo I am 
 disappointed, his drapery is mostly the best part of his 
 pictures : in the famous St. Mark it is the only good 
 one : the expression is bad. The Job seems to me 
 poor, the Isaiah miserable. In single figures, he, as far 
 as design goes, is a thousand degrees below Correggio, 
 the four Evangelists on the cartoons for his frescos are 
 the sublimest single figures I ever saw. The Resurrec- 
 tion, in the Pitti, is very magnificent ; and perhaps, how- 
 ever, I should have thought better of him, but that 
 Landor had led me to expect something almost equal 
 to Raphael. The Fra Angelicos in S. Marco are ex- 
 quisitely beautiful. John of Bologna, too, is a very 
 great man, though I think, in spite of Landor, very infe- 
 rior in genius to Michel Angelo ; and to place him 
 above Phidias and Praxiteles seems to me to be utter 
 nonsense. The Mercury is a singularly agile figure, 
 but not a god, unless it be a dieu de la danse. The Rape 
 of the Sabines and the Nessus seem to me to be much 
 too violent for sculpture, with too many projecting 
 points. His Oceanus, however, and still more his Nep- 
 tune at Bologna, are very grand. What a grievous 
 thing it is that Michel had not a little of Raphael's 
 meekness, and was not content with doing a thing most 
 beautifully, unless he could astound and amaze. His 
 Madonna and Child at Bruges is worthy of Raphael ; 
 his angel at Bologna is as lovely and angelic as any of 
 Perugino's \ and yet he could paint that monstrous and 
 anatomical abortion in the Tribune. He is almost al- 
 ways grand, however, and full of genius : every time I 
 walk before the Palazzo Vecchio, I am struck with .awe 
 by his David, and nothing can be more solemn and ma- 
 jestic than his Giulio de' Medici, and the four figures at 
 the feet of the monuments. 
 
1 88 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Rome, Dec. 20. We just arrived here in time to 
 take one walk round St. Peter's before the venti-quattro. 
 The general effect of the exterior seems to me much less 
 fine than St. Paul's : the dome does not harmonize well 
 with the flat roof beneath it. But the dome itself, the 
 colonnade, and the interior, are unrivalled. Our sit- 
 ting-room, in the Via di Monte Brianzo, looks down 
 upon the Tiber, and over it to the Castle of St. Angelo, 
 the Mont Mario, and St. Peter's." 
 
 To Augustus W. Hare. 
 
 "Rome, Day of the Purification. . . . I rejoiced 
 when I left England in the thought that, till I returned 
 thither, I should not see another proof-sheet ; and lo, 
 they are threatening to pour in upon me of all places 
 in the world here in Rome. Here in Rome, where one 
 has so many better ways of spending one's time ; where 
 authorship seems to be the last thought that ever enters 
 anybody's head, I seem to be fated to publish, and, of all 
 things in the world, a sermon. I preached the Sunday 
 before last, and, to suit my sermon to the time and 
 place, took, ' What went ye out into the wilderness to 
 see?' for my text, and the evils and dangers of living 
 abroad, for my subject ; and, as I had resolved, followed 
 your example in scolding the misbehavior in the 
 churches. But you know people rather like to be 
 scolded, at least, when the scolding comes from the 
 pulpit, and is not immediately personal. Vehement 
 preachers have always been popular ; and so in the fol- 
 lowing week a number of the congregation expressed, 
 through Mr. Burgess, a strong wish that I might be in- 
 duced to print it ; and as the applicants were personally 
 unknown to me, I felt myself forced to set about trying 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 1 89 
 
 to get a papal imprimatur. The chief said he had al- 
 ready heard a great deal about my sermon, and if I 
 would take it to him to read over, that he might see 
 there were no objectionable expressions, he would be 
 very glad to give me his license. Here the matter stands 
 now ; but people say if the license is granted, it will be 
 a great point, for that it will be the first instance of a 
 Protestant sermon printed at Rome. To make amends 
 for the trouble it will give me, I have had one or two 
 very touching expressions and thanks. Far the most 
 delightful thing was a note from Bunsen (the Prussian 
 minister) who was there, and borrowed the sermon after 
 church, and read it into German to his family in the 
 evening. Next morning, before I was dressed, I re- 
 ceived the following note, which I send you in the 
 original : 
 
 " ' Theurer Freund, erlauben sie mir dass ich sie mit 
 diesem Namen begriisse. Ihre gestrige Predigt hat 
 mir bewiesen dass der Grund auf welchem unsere Ver- 
 bindung ruht, zu tief liegt um von der Sturm der Zeit 
 beriihrt zu werden j ein Grund der Gemeinschaft der 
 ihnen meine anhanglichkeit furs leben verburgt, und 
 mich mehr als je wunschen lasst ihre Freundschaft furs 
 leben zu gewinnen.' 
 
 "You have heard something of Bunsen, and know 
 that I expected to like him very much. I like him far 
 more than I expected, and hardly know any man who 
 unites so many high merits, without, so far as I can see, 
 a single defect. He is one of the friendliest, most ami- 
 able, liveliest, most sensible, best informed, most enter- 
 taining of human beings, overflowing with kindness, 
 good humor, with high spirits, most actively and un- 
 weariedly benevolent ; and I have never discovered the 
 
I9O RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 least spark of ill-nature in him, or of selfishness, or of 
 vanity, though we are constantly together. Over and 
 above every thing else, he is a man of the strongest, pur- 
 est, most fervent piety. Circumstances have in some 
 degree given another turn to his studies, else his own 
 bias would have been to devote himself entirely to re- 
 ligion. Even as it is, he has done a great deal. He 
 has made a collection of German hymns, a large octavo 
 volume that he has selected from above eighty thousand. 
 He is engaged, too, in publishing a complete collection of 
 Christian liturgies, and has made great researches in all 
 ages of the Christian Church for this purpose. Nay, he 
 has himself printed a liturgy for his own chapel here, 
 drawn in great measure from ours, or rather from the same 
 sources j but it differs from ours in some very important 
 points, and I think mostly for the better. The German 
 Protestant chapel itself, too, is entirely his creation, and 
 has been of very great advantage, among other things, 
 by having put a stop to the conversions which had pre- 
 viously been so frequent among the German artists. . . . 
 " As for Rome, dear Rome, it seems as if I had seen 
 nothing of it j and yet I have seen more than in all the 
 other towns I ever was in put together, more objects 
 of love and of thought. It will be a great grief to me to 
 leave her with the thought that I am never to see her 
 again j yet it will be a great happiness to have seen her, 
 and having been seen, she will become a part of sight." 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal (" The Green Book "). 
 
 "January 14, 1833. A new year! To how many 
 is it nothing but an old one ; new in nothing but its 
 name, old in the strengthening of all former propen- 
 sities ; old in indolent habits ; old in time wasted or 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. I9I 
 
 misused. The point is to ascertain how much it is wise 
 to retain of the old, how much ought to become new. 
 Perhaps in these days there is more danger of casting 
 off too much of the old than there is of neglecting to 
 adopt the new. Change is the cry of the day, and 
 though the new may only be what is old, new-cast and 
 under a new form, still there is the restless desire for 
 change, and the extravagant hope that all good is to be 
 effected and all evil done away by such a remodelling 
 of things. But I am led away from my first idea, which 
 was rather a practical and moral one, to consider with- 
 in ourselves how the fresh stage of life ought to be a 
 new one in its most useful sense. Now it seems to 
 me a clear principle of Christ that we should never 
 stand still, never feel satisfied we are doing enough ; 
 else why have we a model before us of perfection we 
 never can reach, if it be not to stimulate us onwards, 
 leading us on step by step, and ever keeping before us 
 a point yet further to be attained, both to keep us 
 humble and excite us to action ? Each year, then, 
 should be a stage of advance in our own souls, by 
 a growth in Christian grace and a weakening of natural 
 corruption, and also an advance in the work we are 
 called to, whatever that work may be. 
 
 "When I look back on the mercies of the past year, 
 how ashamed and humbled do I feel to think how 
 my heavenly Father has watched over, preserved, and 
 blessed me, and how little I have given Him in re- 
 turn, how little of love, how little of prayer, how 
 little of service ! Yet let me hope it has not been alto- 
 gether in vain ; that some few seeds of good have been 
 sown, though there ought to have been an abundance of 
 them ; that some few feelings have been strengthened 
 
192 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and realized, though many have been sluggish. Alas ! 
 how much readier we are to dwell upon the few miser- 
 able little grains of wheat in the year than to seek 
 out and mourn over the harvest of tares ! How .much 
 more willingly my mind turns to the hope that I have 
 acquired more power of realizing to myself the constant 
 presence of God my Saviour, than it does to the more 
 certain fact of how often I have failed in trusting and 
 believing, how little I have shown my sense of his 
 presence. . . . 
 
 . . . "One thing I am very sensible of in the past 
 year, a great increased perception of the variance 
 between the principles of the world and those of the 
 Bible. The having so constantly before my eyes in our 
 retired life and parochial duties the higher views of 
 Christianity, and the reading so much more than I used 
 to do of theological books, and so much less of worldly 
 publications, has quickened my perception of the differ- 
 ence, so as to strike me forcibly, either when mixing 
 with others or reading the literature of the day. But 
 perhaps I leave out the chief cause, the living with 
 one whose whole life is based on Scripture principles, 
 and whose whole thoughts and practice are alike resting 
 on that sure basis. 
 
 "How little am I duly thankful for such privileges 
 and blessings as God has bestowed on me, in my situa- 
 tion and in my most precious husband, with whom I 
 have been allowed three years of such uninterrupted 
 happiness. Oh, may I be more grateful, more loving, 
 more faithful to Him who gives me all his best gifts in 
 such abundance, and may He bless them to us both, so 
 that we may be yearly more devoted to his service, and 
 more earnest in our calling, not forgetting, whilst we 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. I93 
 
 strive to better others, that we, too, have a great work 
 begun which has to be perfected, and for which we must 
 not cease to watch and pray ! " 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " Jan. 6, 1833. The beginning of another year of 
 life does indeed seem overflowing with thoughts and 
 feelings, mercies past for which we cannot feel grateful 
 enough, and opportunities to come for which no prayer 
 nor faith seem sufficiently strong. Last year we began 
 the year with cholera impending over our heads, revolu- 
 tion threatening us. Now we are mercifully freed from 
 one evil, and the other is at least for a time removed to 
 a distance. Still so weak is my faith, that I am afraid 
 I look back with greater pleasure than forward. And 
 yet the same God and Saviour who has been with us 
 through the one will no less surely be near us through 
 the other, and overrule all things for good. You and I 
 must, of course, feel differently on some things ; and 
 I can only for myself personally desire to have a contin- 
 uance of present happiness, with greater earnestness 
 and zeal in making use of the great privileges I now 
 enjoy. Still, blest as I am, could Augustus and I both 
 leave the world together, I should look forward to the 
 moment of entrance into eternity, where sin does not 
 dwell, as a moment to be humbly wished for. As it is, 
 since one may be taken and the other left, we can but 
 resign ourselves wholly into our Master's hands, and 
 entreat Him to make our will one with his." 
 
 " yan. 21. Let me tell you of Augustus's first at- 
 tempt at what in Wickliffe's time was called Postilling. 
 It was luckily the 41st of Isaiah last Sunday morning, 
 such a fine chapter, and his exposition was so plain, 
 
 9 M 
 
194 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 being extempore and from the desk, that I think many 
 must have learnt much. He prefaced it by telling 
 them how Scripture used to be thus explained till man 
 perverted the practice, and that was no reason its ad- 
 vantage should be now lost, after so many years. He 
 told them a good deal about the nature of the Prophecy, 
 and the different senses it bore, and the difficulties 
 attaching to it, and how its perfect completion was 
 probably not yet come. I suppose it was quite as 
 long as a sermon, and the people were most attentive. 
 We had the real sermon, as usual, in the evening." 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 "Feb. 20. There is no command oftener sounding in 
 my ears than this, ' Let your light so shine before men, 
 that they may see your good works.' Every day I see how 
 it is the more necessary for the lamp to burn steadily 
 and brightly, for the conduct to be consistent, uncom- 
 promising, and gentle ; for often perhaps, when a word 
 would not be borne, an act of forbearance or self-denial 
 might be remembered in a cooler moment. Yet so 
 often, when my tree is shaken, does there often tumble 
 down a crab ; any one might be forgiven for doubting 
 the care and attention I pay to the root. I fear, by 
 nature, it was such an inveterate crab, it requires a 
 fresh graft every year to make it bear any fruit." 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal ("The Green Book"). 
 
 " March 4. I seem to myself to have got a clearer 
 notion lately of the different steps which are attained in 
 religious progress, and a difficulty I have felt in recon- 
 ciling what I see with what I read in Scripture seems to 
 be diminished. There are two distinct classes, say the 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 1 95 
 
 Evangelicals, those who serve God and those who serve 
 Him not, and I see and acknowledge the truth. Still 
 one cannot look around without feeling there are many 
 who are far removed from being indifferent or careless 
 as to their duty, who do sincerely desire to do it, and 
 to a certain degree do serve God more than the world, 
 and yet that these same people are equally far perhaps 
 from that simplicity and reality of Christian faith which 
 makes Christ's service and his yoke a delight and a joy 
 to them. Now may it not be that such persons are in 
 fact Jews in heart and practice ? Of God they have a 
 reverence and fear, they serve Him outwardly, they 
 acknowledge Him inwardly, but of love as a principle 
 of action they are as yet ignorant, consequently their 
 religious service consists in outward acts. Of Christ as 
 a Saviour and Mediator they rarely think, and consider 
 the reference to Him as the great cause of our hope and 
 dependence, as rather of a. fanatical spirit. In such 
 persons year passes after year and no change is visible'; 
 the same round of duties is performed, but the spirit 
 which should animate them continues dormant, nor do 
 their worldly thoughts or opinions betray any symptoms 
 of leavening. Of such persons it is untrue to say that 
 they despise or are regardless of God ; but their service 
 is one of fear, and their creed scarcely less enlightened 
 than that of a Jew. People do not consider what it is 
 that distinguishes Christianity from Judaism, and fancy 
 themselves Christians before they have left the old 
 slavery of the letter and form." 
 
 It was in March, 1833, that a bad cold, affecting 
 the throat, and a violent cough, formed the begin- 
 ning of the illness from which Augustus Hare never 
 
I96 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 recovered. A slight paralysis of the nerves on one 
 side of the face caused severe bleeding to be re- 
 sorted to, which materially weakened the system. 
 For some weeks he was confined to the house, and 
 his mind was filled with anxiety. Mrs. Stanley 
 wrote from Alderley urgently desiring to come and 
 assist in nursing him ; but to this he refused to 
 consent, preferring that she should postpone her 
 visit to May, when he hoped to be well and able to 
 enjoy it. In April, all anxiety seemed over, and he 
 was able to resume his parochial duties, and de- 
 livered an address upon his first reappearance in 
 his little church, which was afterwards printed in 
 consequence of the impression it made upon his 
 people. During his illness they had shown the 
 greatest anxiety about him. " It seems as if one 
 of my own children was bad, not to see Mr. Hare 
 about," said one; and when he was recovering, 
 " I be just about glad Mr. Hare's better, for he is a 
 good friend to all of we." 
 
 Augustus W. Hare to the People of Alton (Address in 
 Alton-Barnes Church). 
 
 " Indeed, brethren, I know not how it may have been 
 with you, nor whether you have missed me, during the 
 time I have been kept away from you ; but I can truly 
 say, that I have missed you. I have missed the well- 
 filled benches near me ; I have missed the familiar faces 
 in the gallery ; I have missed the delight of praying with 
 you, and the pleasure of instructing you. At the season 
 of the great festivals, and especially during Passion 
 Week and Easter, the spirit of the coldest Christian is 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 1 97 
 
 more alive than at other times. It is impossible to hear 
 the history of Christ's sufferings, how He was scourged 
 and nailed to a cross, and left to hang there till He died, 
 amid the mocks and laughter of the bystanders, it is 
 impossible for men to hear all this with their ears, and to 
 have it almost brought before their eyes, and to know that 
 Jesus went through it all for their sakes, that they might 
 be forgiven, and might live, it is hardly possible for 
 anybody to hear all this without having his heart burn 
 within him. These then are the seasons when the min- 
 ister who loves his people has most pleasure in speaking 
 to them and teaching them. He loves to strike while 
 the iron is hot, while the heart is moved and softened, in 
 the hope that at such a time, by God's grace, his words 
 may sink deeper. And yet it was just at this particular 
 season, when I should so much have enjoyed being with 
 you, that it pleased God to affect me with sickness, to 
 separate me for a time from you, my people and friends. 
 Do not suppose I murmur at this dispensation : far from 
 it. God knows best what means and what instruments 
 to employ for the conversion and instruction of his peo- 
 ple. If I had been in health, you would have been taught 
 by me alone. As it is, you have had the advantage 
 of hearing different teachers ; and it may be the words 
 of some of them may have sunk deeper in some minds, 
 and have done them more good, than any thing I should 
 have said, if I had preached to you. If it be so, God be 
 praised for it ! Yea, God be praised for my sickness, 
 even if it had been more severe, if it be the means of 
 calling any one among you to a knowledge of his saving 
 will ! But still it did grieve me much, that I could not 
 be praying with you and teaching you. Never did the 
 little church appear more beautiful in my eyes than on 
 
I98 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 those Sundays, while I looked at it with a melancholy 
 pleasure, and watched you as you went into God's house, 
 or returned from it. Truly, at such times, I could well 
 have said with David, ' How amiable, how lovely are thy 
 tabernacles, thou Lord of Hosts ! My soul hath a desire 
 and longing to enter into the courts of the Lord.' " 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 "March 27. ' Shall we receive good and not evil at 
 the hands of our Father ? ' Well may we feel that, bright 
 as our sunshine is and has been from year's end to year's 
 end, we may endure, and bless God that He has thought 
 fit for a brief space to send this cloud to overshadow our 
 joy, and make us more fully sensible how dependent it is 
 upon his good pleasure. Now, when it has pleased Him 
 to bless the means used and give us again a gleam of 
 sunshine, I begin to feel more what a fearful dream I 
 have been in for some days past, and I do more fully 
 cast myself before his throne, who might, had He seen 
 fit, have chastened me so much more severely. My 
 precious treasure looks still very ill, and coughs sadly. 
 Many an anxious moment yet remains before I can feel 
 sure that it will please his heavenly Physician to restore 
 him to former vigor and health ; but there is so much 
 improvement, I indulge a hope he will be able to bless 
 me and his people, and do such little humble service as 
 he can render his Master on earth. His own mind has 
 never for a moment been disturbed ; it has been calm 
 and serene as the most peaceful lake." 
 
 " March 28. God be praised, my mind is now at 
 ease, and the cloud is breaking fast and letting the sun 
 shine through again. 
 
 " April 2. ... I have felt during my anxiety that 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. I99 
 
 I could not utter long prayers or well connected ones ; 
 but that my whole life was a continual prayer, and for 
 this reason I rejoiced to be alone. When I was not in 
 the room with my beloved Augustus, which was only at 
 mealtimes, and when I went out into the garden for a 
 short time, I felt I was alone with Him who could help, 
 and would assuredly strengthen if I asked ; and though I 
 could not feel ready and submissive to resign all at his 
 bidding, I did pray most sincerely to be enabled more 
 and more to be brought to this, and that the present 
 warning might in this way be blest to us both. I am 
 certain I was able to go on better from having no one, no, 
 not the nearest and dearest friend to speak to and dwell 
 upon the circumstances when at liberty and leisure to do 
 so. When I was not engaged with him, it was far better 
 to be thrown upon one's own reflections, which naturally 
 led one above this world to seek His grace and comfort, 
 who will hear, however weak and faithless our petitions 
 are, and miserably weak one does feel at such a time. 
 . . . And now that it has pleased our Lord to take away 
 his chastening hand and restore to us our bright earthly 
 happiness, you must pray for us, my own Luce, that we 
 may not forget how thankful we should be. Now, in- 
 deed, there is no fear of it, with the remembrance of the 
 anxiety so lately felt ; but our hearts too soon get used 
 to their blessings, and forget how easily and how readily 
 they may be taken away." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Stanley. 
 
 " April 13, 1833. Your plan was exactly One we 
 were talking of one day as so useful, that of realizing 
 more the passing events of our holy week ; and though 
 there was no church service except on the Friday, as there 
 
200 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 would have been had the pastor been among his people, 
 at home we got our little chapters and prayers in the 
 evening. Now he is weak in voice, I generally read the 
 verses, and then he comments on them after ; he reads 
 the collects and prayers, and I say the Lord's Prayer, 
 and so we jointly get through our little humble service. 
 . . . Augustus's confinement and inability to do any 
 thing is more trying perhaps now when he is better than 
 it was when he was entirely incapacitated ; but God's 
 will must be ours, and his time ours, and slight indeed 
 is the trial of our patience He at present sends. May 
 it prepare us for the far greater that may one day be our 
 portion." 
 
 "April 21. I cannot close this day so beautiful 
 without, and so full of thanksgiving within without 
 making our dear Luce share in its great blessings. The 
 sun has shone with almost a summer heat, and the air, 
 for the first time this spring, has been most balmy and 
 delicious, as if to invite the dear pastor once more to 
 his church. He was afraid of undertaking a full service 
 or the whole morning one, so got Mr Caulfield to take 
 that for him ; and this afternoon we had the happiness 
 of going again together into God's house. Scarcely 
 could I restrain my tears when he entered his desk, and 
 you may think how freely they flowed when, before the 
 general thanksgiving, he rose up and said that, having 
 been so long unable from illness to officiate in that 
 place, he begged now to offer his humble and hearty 
 thanks to God for being restored again to health, and 
 then in the customary place added, ' especially for Thy 
 servant who now desires to return thanks for Thy late 
 mercies vouchsafed unto him.' " 
 
 "May 1 6. I am sure you will fancy yourself in the 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 201 
 
 little church. Now Augustus has got to two services 
 again, it seems quite like old times; and yesterday, 
 Ascension Day, we had prayers and a 'postilling' as 
 usual. What weather this is ! I never knew so enjoy- 
 able a May. In a week every thing has become perfect 
 summer, and the foliage is quite thick. I am writing to 
 the music of a swarm of bees, which, as usual, have 
 betaken themselves to our chimney." 
 
 " May 28. Last night we had our thanksgiving 
 supper, the preface to which was the verse out Nehe- 
 miah viii. 10. Twelve dear old people thankfully par- 
 took of ' the portion prepared for them,' and expressed 
 much joy at seeing Mr. Hare so well again." 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Leamington , May 2, 1833. Yesterday we went to 
 visit our Wesleyan Methodist friend, Mr. Whitehead. 
 Do you remember in our favorite tract it says, how 
 much easier it is to talk of religion than to talk re- 
 ligiously? He does the latter. ... I see that the 
 holy Calvinist and the holy Methodist walk on the ex- 
 treme sides of the narrow path, and yet their eye is on 
 the same object, their hand on the same staff, and if 
 either faint or fall the same words of hope and comfort 
 lift them up. It is impossible not to feel this strongly 
 when living with Christians who are one in spirit, but 
 two in doctrine." 
 
 Towards the end of July, the Augustus Hares 
 went to Alderley Rectory, and while they were 
 there Marcus Hare was invited to Alderley Park, 
 which he left engaged to Lucy Stanley, the beloved 
 friend of his sister-in-law. 
 
202 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Lucy Anne Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Alder ley, August 28, 1833. My heart is too full. 
 It is like a cup full to the brim, and I am afraid of 
 letting one drop escape, for fear the whole should over- 
 flow. The only thing I am sure of is that, amid all its 
 contending feelings, a sense of grateful happiness is at 
 the top, and that I may cheerfully and confidently go 
 forward, assured that the same Father and Saviour 
 who has led me thus far will never place his weak and 
 strength-needing child in any pasture so beautiful, as to 
 make her forget the everlasting home, where there shall 
 be neither marrying nor giving in marriage, but when, as 
 St. Mark's hymn ends, 
 
 'The saints beneath their Saviour's eye, 
 Fill'd with each other's company, 
 Shall spend in love th' eternal day.'" 
 
 Julius Hare to Maria Hare. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, September 9, 1833. God be praised 
 for the great blessing he has bestowed on our dear 
 Marcus, and on us all ! I know you will deem it a 
 blessing ; so will Augustus, who already loved Lucy as a 
 sister ; and I feel as if it will also be a very great one 
 to me, although I have hitherto remained in the back- 
 ground, and perhaps, but for this marriage, might never 
 have become cordially intimate with her. Meetings of 
 two or three days, with years between them, are a scanty 
 foundation for friendship to spring from. Now, however, 
 the ice is broken ; she will assuredly do us all much 
 good ; and I hope and trust that she herself will be a 
 gainer by the marriage, that at least in this world it will 
 make her happier. It would have been a great thing if 
 Marcus married a person who did not slacken the bonds 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 203 
 
 that unite us j but he seems to have chosen the only 
 person in the world that will draw them tighter and 
 closer. Marcus's speech to Lucy, ' that he had never in 
 his life done what he liked, except in marrying her,' 
 seems to me one of the most beautiful compliments 
 (that is not the word, but I cannot think of a better) ever 
 paid ; and we who have known him from his childhood 
 know how true it is. It would be indeed very delightful 
 if I could bring you here from Alderley. I should like 
 to have you here while every thing is in full beauty ; and 
 though my house will not be in apple-pie order, you will 
 not growl very much at that. Besides', I shall try, if 
 possible, to get Marcus and Lucy for a day or two on 
 their way. I know that every day will be precious to 
 them, and I would not ask it, if I did not think that I 
 might be of some use to them, in talking to them about 
 what they are to see and admire, and showing them some 
 of the spoils I have brought back from Rome, such as 
 prints, casts, and so on, which will prepare them for 
 what they are to find. It is a matter of great importance 
 to have one's eyes properly opened. And oh, what a joy 
 it would be to me to have my two beloved brothers and 
 my two beloved sisters here ! My big house would not 
 look lonely again through the whole winter. The very 
 chairs would begin to dance and sing for joy, instead of 
 standing so sullenly round the room, scowling, because, 
 in spite of all the temptations they hold out, nobody 
 comes to sit on them." 
 
 On the 1 8th of September, Augustus and Maria 
 Hare returned to Alderley, where the wedding 
 took place on the 24th. While there, his failing 
 health was so apparent that the family persuaded 
 
204 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 him to consent to give up his duty for a time, and 
 to accompany the newly married pair to Italy, all 
 difficulties about expense being overruled by Mr. 
 Leycester's liberality. 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Alton, October 3. This has been a sad week. 
 Augustus's cough has been much worse since we reached 
 home, and he has been very weak and incapable of any 
 exertion. Yesterday and to-day I think he has begun 
 to rally a little, otherwise I felt quite in fear how he 
 would bear the travelling, being so weak. 
 
 " The way the people speak of our going is very touch- 
 ing. There is not a dissentient voice about the good of 
 it, if it is likely to do Mr. Hare good, though mixed with 
 regret of their own. An old man in Great Alton, who 
 fell down yesterday and broke his thigh, told Augustus 
 to-day, * Ah, sir, when I could not sleep last night, I did 
 pray God would bring you back to us safe and well ; ' 
 and that seemed the uppermost thought of his heart in 
 the midst of all his pain. They of course look at his 
 pale face and think him worse than he really is. It 
 would never have done to stay here and be unable to 
 do any thing. It grieves him so to be a cipher in his 
 own church. We have some trouble in getting help." 
 
 Those who were present retain a touching 
 remembrance of the love which Augustus Hare 
 manifested for his people at a farewell supper 
 which he gave to them in his barn a few days 
 before he left England. After he had parted from 
 them with prayer and a short exhortation, he 
 was sitting quietly in the drawing-room, when the 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 205 
 
 singers, underneath the window, unexpectedly be- 
 gan the Evening Hymn. Quickly unfastening 
 the shutter, his face working with emotion, he 
 threw up the sash, exclaiming, " Dear people, how 
 can I leave you ! " and then sank back on a chair 
 quite exhausted by the mental conflict, and then a 
 terrible fit of coughing came on. 
 
 Tuesday, October 22d, was his last morning at 
 Alton, and many were the sad forebodings which 
 his looks inspired in the hearts of his people. 
 "They seemed," wrote Mr. Majendie, "to realize 
 during his sermon on the previous Sunday that 
 they were about to lose him, and they then began 
 to sorrow most of all that they should see his face 
 no more. His manner during that service re- 
 minded one of the lines of Baxter : 
 
 ' To preach as if you ne'er would preach again, 
 And as a dying man to dying men.' " 
 
 The amusing difficulties of Julius's housekeeping 
 were the chief topic of that last evening ; he had 
 already spoken of them by letter. 
 
 Julius Hare to Augustus W. Hark 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, October 15, 1833. With regard to 
 pupil-taking I wanted to know your opinion. ... I 
 myself am no less averse to it than you can be, both 
 from taste and from principle ; for I fear that even 
 without them T shall have little time enough for any 
 thing beyond the work of the week, and I cannot help 
 grieving at the thought that all I have been doing, all 
 I have been laboring to acquire for the last five-and- 
 
206 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 twenty years, is to be utterly thrown away, and for 
 what ? In order to do, or rather to fail in doing, that 
 which tens of thousands would have done quite as well, 
 and thousands far better than I can do. Your woman- 
 kind won't understand or sympathize with me in this ; 
 but they are no authority on such matters. Women 
 are too purely heavenly-minded, that is to say, when 
 they are so at' all, religion is to them every thing ; and 
 they cannot see religion in any thing but religion. 
 Science, philosophy, statecraft, they know nothing about, 
 and therefore of course cannot care about. But as I am 
 two thousand pounds out of pocket by my living, I am 
 not sure that I ought not, as a matter of duty, to take 
 pupils, so long at least as that I may lift my head above 
 water, and clear off my debts. What Marcus says about 
 my parting with my servants I do not attach much 
 weight to. Elphick is the only one who would be a 
 great loss, and he would rather cut his hand off than 
 quit the place ; only, if his wife goes, he will cease to 
 be an indoor servant. ... I must say a little more 
 about Mrs. Elphick. It is true she is not your Mary ; 
 but where can I find another Mary ? She has lived 
 before in this house ; and where could I get any one 
 else ? My cow, though an Alderney, and a delightful 
 gentle creature, certainly gives very little and poor 
 milk. This may be partly owing to the badness of her 
 pasture, which, as we had hardly a drop of rain for 
 above twelve weeks, is, or rather was the other day, so 
 wretched on my hill, that the cattle took to browsing 
 upon the sweetbriar hedge. I myself saw Elphick 
 churning away, and no butter would come of it. That 
 this is not a thing totally unheard of appears from that 
 delightful passage of Ben Jonson quoted in the Phil. 
 
THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 207 
 
 Mus., ii. 211. That Mrs. Elphick is not inexpert in 
 dairy lore she proved last year, when they bought an 
 old cow of my uncle's for four pounds (mine cost eleven), 
 and made near two hundred pounds of butter in six 
 months. But that was with an old-fashioned churn ; 
 mine, that gives nothing, is a new-fangled one, that is 
 turned round like a wheel. On my return from Alder- 
 ley, when I was asking whether the cow was improved, 
 she told me what struck me as strange, that they never 
 used a drop either of milk or cream for the servants. 
 With her, she says, it does not agree, and that she never 
 eats any butter. ' But what have the men for break- 
 fast?' ' Bread and cheese, and meat and beer.' Well, 
 this accounted for the magnitude of my butcher's bills, 
 and my great consumption of beer. But of course, un- 
 less it be the custom to allow them only bread and milk 
 for breakfast, I can scarcely set the example. The 
 women have tea. ' What is done with the milk then ? ' 
 * Given to the dogs, or thrown away.' This set me on 
 inquiring. Thrown away ' does not mean given to the 
 pigs, for I have none yet, nor a stye. Such vulgar 
 animals were not allowed to come near the rectory 
 under the ancien regime, and the carpenter has had too 
 much to do hitherto in providing lodgings for my books, 
 which even I thought deserved to be helped first. As 
 to dogs, I believe I have none of Arctis sort. But 
 George (my foot-boy), who has a great love for animals, 
 has a spaniel ; and a Newfoundland was brought the 
 other day for approbation, but was too beautiless for 
 such a slave of the eye as I am. So after some days 
 he was dismissed. 
 
 " I had a letter to-day telling me that another beloved 
 friend is on the point of taking a wife, Digby. His 
 
208 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 letter is one of the most singular I ever read, one of the 
 most melancholy, and one of the most beautiful. He 
 mourns over the prospect that he must no longer be 
 melancholy, over ' having been made to know the very 
 alarming truth that he is a rich man,' about having 
 ' been made to hear that he is supremely happy in this 
 world ! ' * I do feel,' he says, ' a secret horror at the 
 thought of rest and happiness on earth.' I have also 
 an interesting letter from Arnold, who says, 'As you 
 met Bunsen in Italy, you can now sympathize with the 
 ail-but idolatry with which I regard him. So beautifully 
 good, so wise, and so noble-minded ! I do not believe 
 that any man alive can have a deeper interest in Rome 
 than I have ; yet I envy you nothing in your last year's 
 stay there so much as your continued intercourse with 
 Bunsen.' And all these men are my friends, my dear 
 fond friends, loving me and esteeming me, so far above 
 what I deserve. I can never keep my heart from bound- 
 ing with gratitude, when I think over the long list of 
 great and good men who have deigned to call me friend. 
 . . . And now I must have done. So God bless you, 
 and mind you, as our dear aunt used to say ; for body- 
 minding at least you are in sore need of." 
 
XII. 
 
 FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 
 
 " Death is the justification of all the ways of the Chris- 
 tian, the last end of all his sacrifices, that touch of the 
 great Master which completes the picture." Madame 
 Swetchine. 
 
 " Dear, beauteous Death, the jewel of the just, 
 Shining nowhere but in the dark, 
 What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust ; 
 Could man outlook that mark ! " 
 
 Henry Vaughan, 1690. 
 
 /^VN the 23d October the Augustus and Marcus 
 ^^ Hares embarked together at Southampton in 
 the Camilla, Julius watching them from the pier till 
 they were out of sight, and the following morning 
 they arrived at Havre, after a very stormy passage. 
 Hence they began to post through France in their 
 own two carriages ; " the strange barbarity of the 
 harness and dress of the postilions, and the miser- 
 able horses with their fiery eyes," striking them at 
 first, as they did all foreign travellers in those days. 
 By Rouen, Louviers, and Mantes, they reached 
 Paris, where they remained several days, and then 
 by Fontainebleau, Sens, and Auxerre (with the 
 picturesqueness of which they were greatly de- 
 
2IO RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 lighted), to Rouvray and Chalons. Hence they 
 took the Saone steamer to Lyons. 
 
 The travellers left Nice Dec. 3, and, after a 
 delightful journey through the beauties of the 
 Riviera, arrived at Genoa on the 7th. 
 
 It was on the evening of the 7th of December 
 that some matters connected with the dismissal of 
 Belloud had to be arranged before the Court at 
 Genoa. As Marcus was unable to speak either 
 French or Italian, Augustus was obliged to go 
 with him through a cold night air and to exert 
 himself greatly. As soon as he returned to the 
 Hotel of the Croce di Malta he went to bed, but 
 the excitement and fatigue brought on an unusual 
 fit of coughing, and, while Mary Lea was alone in 
 the room with him, he burst a blood-vessel. For 
 a long time he hovered between life and death, and 
 his wife never left him, except for a daily walk on 
 the ramparts, which she always afterwards asso- 
 ciated with that period of anxiety when her happi- 
 ness first seemed to be crumbling away. 
 
 Maria Hare to Mr. and Mrs. O. Leycester. 
 
 " Genoa, Dec. 25, 1833. I fear your Christmas will 
 have been clouded by the sad tidings we have been 
 forced to send you. Would you could see how favorably 
 we are now going on ! Each day he makes some little 
 step. It is quite like May in the sun, and we have 
 a little balcony, where Augustus can now sit out and 
 enjoy the beautiful view of the harbor and one side of 
 the town. It is only since he has been less ill that I 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 211 
 
 feel what the illness has been to me, and you must not 
 now wonder if I cannot write very steadily. The un- 
 speakable mercy of having him better overwhelms me ; 
 and I do feel my own utter unworthiness to have such a 
 blessing granted when I think how impossible I find it 
 to resign my will to God's when his seems to be con- 
 trary to mine. The time here has completely swept 
 away the remembrance of what went before, and I can 
 scarcely even recall by what road we came to Genoa. 
 It all seems like a dream. Oh, be thankful with me that 
 it has pleased God to spare me this once, and implore 
 earnestly for me strength to bear whatever He may in 
 future think good to lay on me, either of anxiety or 
 trouble. . . . 
 
 " I delight in my daily walk of an hour on the ram- 
 parts, with the waves dashing up on one side, and so 
 beautiful an inland view of Genoa. Mary has kept up 
 wonderfully, and been most invaluable in her attentions, 
 and truly hers is a willing service, for she puts her whole 
 heart into it, and is repaid for every fatigue when she 
 sees any amendment in her master." 
 
 Maria Hare to Mr. and Mrs. O. Leycester. 
 
 "Pisa, Jan. 3, 1834. Most thankfully do I announce 
 our prosperous arrival here. A more perfect May-day 
 could not have been for Augustus to begin his journey 
 on. . . . We reached Chiavari at four j found Marcus 
 and the waiter ready with a chair to carry the sick man 
 up, a good fire, warm room, and bed ready, and so 
 ended the first day to which we had looked forward with 
 the chief fear. . . . The scenery for the next two days 
 was most beautiful. I can scarcely say I enjoyed it, but 
 I have never seen any thing I admired more. There 
 
212 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 appears to be nothing to admire in the country round 
 Pisa; but, as we came in, the brilliancy of the sky at 
 sunset behind the Leaning Tower and the domes of the 
 town was most beautiful. . . . There seems nothing now 
 to be done for Augustus but to get him as quickly as we 
 can to Rome, where his native air will do more than any 
 medicines." 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Pisa, Jan. 6. ... I almost wonder that Italy is 
 recommended to delicate people, the changes of tem- 
 perature are so sudden. To look out of the windows 
 along the Lung' Arno, you would think by the men's 
 dress you were in Russia; all wrapped up in great 
 cloaks, often lined with fur, and holding them up to 
 their mouths as you see in pictures of winter. Look 
 again at the women, and they are going past in lace veils 
 over their heads, or with gold earrings hanging down on 
 the neck, very like what our grandmothers used to wear 
 from their watches, hanging from the belt. 
 
 " I have just seen the Leaning Tower, so associated 
 in my mind with childish recollections ; and it is one of 
 the proofs I have often felt of how different a seeing 
 impression is from a hearsay one. , It does look very 
 strange certainly, exactly as if some one was pushing it 
 down, and it surprises one never to see it go any further. 
 The Campo-Santo is most interesting, and Augustus 
 tells me my education ought to begin there, as it contains 
 the best specimens of Giotto, Orcagna, Gozzoli, &c. 
 You would be intensely interested in Orcagna's frescos, 
 which are most Dantesque in conception and spirit. But 
 my present recollections of art are all in favor of a beau- 
 tiful dead head of Christ with the Madonna, by Michel 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 213 
 
 Angelo, in the Albergo dei Poveri at Genoa, and two 
 most exquisite pictures of Fra Bartolomeo at Lucca, 
 which reach a degree of beauty beyond any thing I ever 
 saw." 
 
 Maria Hare to E. Penrhyn, Esq. 
 
 "Rome, Feb. 1, 1834. I write with but a sad heart, 
 for I haye little good to tell. We are at last settled in 
 our lodgings, and are very comfortable as to rooms. 
 Augustus and I have two, opening into each other, one 
 of which has full morning sun, and is so warm we never 
 need a fire till after sunset. It is very quiet, too, and 
 looks out on the church of the Trinita de' Monti. We have 
 besides two sitting-rooms, and M. and L.'s bedroom and 
 dressing-room with servants' rooms, for twenty-two louis 
 a month, which at this time is considered very cheap. 
 We moved into them last Tuesday, and feel all the 
 comfort, after our long wanderings, of being at last 
 stationary. I wish I could add that we had the comfort 
 of seeing any amendment in my poor Augustus, but at 
 present I fear there is none. . . For some days he went 
 out for an hour at twelve o'clock on the Pincio or in the 
 Borghese Gardens, and got out of the carriage for ten 
 minutes to bask in the sun, but now he is not able. . . . 
 
 " The only thing I have seen, except St. Peter's, is the 
 view from Bunsen's house on the Capitol. . . . He has 
 lived here for seventeen years, and has a love for an- 
 tiquities and art which will be most useful to us. But at 
 present I not only grudge wasting such good things with 
 a mind so little at ease, but I find that the strain upon 
 my attention only makes me feel doubly the anxiety 
 awaiting my return." 
 
214 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 " On Thursday Marcus took me in a carriage up to 
 the Capitol where Bunsen lives. Except that moonlight 
 vision of grandeur in entering Rome, I had as yet seen 
 nothing but the view from the Pincio over modern 
 Rome. Think then of our delight, upon being shown 
 into Bunsen's room, to look down upon all most inter- 
 esting objects in the ancient city lying beneath us, with 
 the mountains and the towns of Frascati and Albano 
 lit up by the evening sun in the background. We were 
 so occupied in looking out of the window as not to see 
 Mrs. Bunsen come in, and could hardly turn away to 
 speak to her. Soon after he came in : it is a square 
 figure and round face, with a very German look expres- 
 sive of benevolence, in which one finds out by degrees 
 the lines of thought and intelligence. Then we asked 
 to look again at the view, and he, with the utmost clear- 
 ness, in English, pointed out to us the details. Having 
 gone through them from the drawing-room windows, he 
 took us through the salon to his own study, and thence 
 for the first time we saw the Coliseum, the Temple of 
 Peace, St. John Lateran, and, far beyond, the Sabine 
 Hills. Having studied all that side, he took us to 
 another window and balcony, which looked out on St. 
 Peter's and the whole of modern Rome, the different 
 views forming the most complete panorama. I felt at 
 home with both Mr. and Mrs. Bunsen immediately, and 
 five out of the nine children were running about with 
 that sort of tact of well brought-up children that are 
 never in the way, yet always of the party. They took us 
 down into the garden, and showed us an Indian fig-tree 
 they had planted seventeen years ago, on first coming, 
 when they found neither doors nor windows in the 
 house." 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 215 
 
 Catharine Stanley to Maria Hare. 
 
 "Feb. 3. How many people have burst into tears like 
 you at the first sight of the dome of St. Peter's ; but 
 surely no one ever did it with such mingled emotions, 
 the point of hope for so long, all associations lost in 
 comparison with the one prime object ; and yet not lost, 
 for if it had been Lucca, Pisa, any other place that was 
 to cure him, the sight would have been welcomed, yet 
 not have affected you in the same way. . . If Augustus 
 had not the self-denial to forbear letting down the win- 
 dow and scolding the post-boy, how will he be kept from 
 falking to Bunsen," &c. . . . 
 
 "Feb. n. I am obliged to repeat to myself very 
 often, ' No amendment is to be expected under three 
 weeks,' but it was impossible not to feel disappointed 
 that, when the first fatigue of the journey was over, the 
 cough was the same ; but the excitement of it is not over 
 yet, in short, we must rest in patience and hope. . . . 
 How I did feel that I went with you to Bunsen's salon ! 
 and I had been thinking, as you had probably, only of 
 the pleasure of seeing Bunsen, and forgot the situation ; 
 and now, if you were to see no more than those two 
 views, would they not be worth a great deal, worth all 
 that we could read, or fancy, or learn, from every picture 
 or plan that could be studied ? I recur again and again 
 to the comfort this place and these people will be to you 
 when no other sight-seeing or people-seeing could have 
 either interest or amusement ; and what a comfort it is 
 that Rome is not merely a statue, and picture, and inside 
 seeing place, that if you never enter a gallery you will 
 still be seeing Rome." 
 
2l6 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Maria Hare to Rev. R. Kilvert. 
 
 "Feb. 6, 1834. ... I scarcely know how to write 
 to you, and can only do so in forgetting our short ac- 
 quaintance, and presuming on that kind interest you 
 have expressed towards us, and on that sympathy which 
 one Christian heart must feel for others on whom God 
 lays his chastening hand. Mr. Hare makes no progress, 
 and I have lately had the anguish of learning that his 
 lungs are now decidedly affected. Under these circum- 
 stances I try in vain to be sanguine, and, though all 
 things are possible with God, I cannot blind myself to 
 the persuasion that it is in his eternal counsels that this 
 his servant should be taken away from us. Augustus 
 himself leaves all without fear and anxiety in a Father's 
 hands, and speaks with the utmost calmness of the issue, 
 mourning only over his own unworthiness in his Master's 
 service. May that blessed Master, who chastens because 
 He loves, strengthen his faith and mine, to increase his 
 joy and hope in believing, and sustain me throughout 
 the deep waters. He constantly says God gives him 
 nothing to bear, gives him nothing but blessings, yet, 
 his cough is very bad and his weakness increases. Your 
 prayers, I know, will be with us, and those of all our 
 affectionate friends at Alton j and we will pray for them 
 also, that this and every other trial may lead them on 
 more earnestly to seek that peace and rest which this 
 sorrowing world can never give." 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal. 
 
 "On Tuesday, Feb. 11, Mr. Burgess came and said 
 a few comforting words to Augustus, who said that he 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 21? 
 
 felt now ' within the fold.' When Lucy came in, he took 
 our hands and joined them together, saying, ' You must 
 comfort each other ; ' he expressed a fear that he might 
 not live to receive the Sacrament the next day, and on 
 Lucy saying, ' Then you will not need it,' ' No,' he said, 
 ' but it would be a comfort to all of you to receive it 
 with me.' He repeatedly expressed the sense he felt of 
 being forgiven. ' I feel I am reconciled to God through 
 Christ. I have peace perfect peace ; but I have not 
 joy.' He said he prayed for four things, for comfort and 
 strength for me, for a death without much suffering, that 
 his death might be edifying, that his successor at Alton 
 might love his people. 
 
 "On the 1 2th, after Mr. Burgess was gone, he said, 
 * There is only one thing left now, that is, to take leave 
 of you, when shall it be ? ' Fearful every hour might 
 be the last, I said it had better be now. ' Then shut 
 the door and give me the orangeade that I may have 
 strength for it.' Having drank of it, he raised himself 
 up with astonishing strength, and, embracing me, 
 said, * I must press you once more to my heart ; you 
 have been the dearest, tenderest, the most affectionate 
 of wives ; ' and then he prayed that I might be strength- 
 ened and comforted. When I spoke of meeting again, 
 he said, ' No, not for many years. You have too many 
 on earth to love you.' Some time after, ' I did not say 
 what I ought, the truest of wives ; it has been that 
 truth I so delighted in.' Then he gave me messages 
 for all, and then said, ' Every thing in this world is now 
 done ; now let me be alone, I must go to sleep.' He 
 begged me to put the locket on the chain to put round 
 his neck, ' The first thing you ever gave me.' . . . 
 
 " When a bad coughing fit came on, he thought it was 
 
2l8 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the last, and, taking my hand in both his, he raised it up, 
 saying, ' Dearest Mia,' and lifted up his eyes to heaven, 
 as if in prayer." 
 
 Lucy Anne Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 11 Feb. 18, 1834. The fever continued all Saturday 
 and Sunday, his strength gradually sinking, but he still 
 retained his quietness and perfect clearness of mind. 
 When I went in at nine on Monday, I had no idea how 
 much worse he was. Maria was sitting by his bedside 
 with a look of resigned misery. He remained all day 
 in a kind of lethargy. Francis seemed unable to leave 
 the room. About five o'clock in the evening, Marcus 
 brought in a letter from you and one from Mr. Oswald 
 Leycester, and just gave them to Maria as she stood by 
 the bed, Augustus apparently insensible of every thing. 
 Maria gave them to me to put away. Two hours after, 
 Augustus said to her, ' You had two letters, what were 
 they ? Was one from Kitty ? You know I always like 
 to hear what she says.' A few moments after he had 
 forgotten it all again. Mr. Oswald's letter told them of 
 ^200, how he will rejoice it came just in time. All 
 night he was quiet, but when Dr. Thompson came in the 
 morning, he said he was sinking and could not last be- 
 yond sunset. On Sunday morning he had offered up a 
 prayer in his own words, so full of gratitude, saying that 
 even the annoyances of his illness were almost turned 
 to blessings by the comforts and luxuries around him 
 ... I have come now into the next room to write. 
 Oh, the contrast between that dark silent chamber, and 
 the glorious sun shining through the window on my 
 paper ! but at this moment I am not sad, I can think of 
 nothing but the far brighter sun which will soon burst 
 upon his sight." 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 2K) 
 
 Bunsen to Arnold. 
 
 11 Feb. 19. . . . Our dear Augustus Hare has left us. 
 When this arrives, you will already have known that he 
 expired yesterday, in a state of perfect bliss. He had 
 given previous directions that he should be buried by the 
 side of my children. I saw him twice, and loved him 
 from the first moment. His thoughts were always with 
 his friends, his country, his Church, but above all, and up 
 to the last moment, with his Saviour. Requiescat in 
 pace ! His excellent wife has shown herself worthy of 
 such a husband."* 
 
 Maria Hare to Miss Miller. 
 
 " Rome, Feb. 27. How shall I write to you, my dear 
 friend ? ... You know what our happiness was, and 
 that I always rejoiced in trembling. I knew it could not 
 last long, but yet so buoyant is one's nature that till the 
 last fortnight I was not awakened to a sense how soon 
 it was to end. . . . Till two o'clock on Tuesday after- 
 noon the spirit was struggling for its departure, and 
 when at last its hour was come, God in his mercy took 
 it gently away. There was not a shadow of pain or 
 struggle ; but my beloved Augustus was taken far above 
 earthly suffering to rejoice in glory, to have all his hun- 
 ger and thirst after righteousness fully satisfied, and bit- 
 ter, bitter as that moment was, one could not but feel 
 that to him it was one of unspeakable gain. It was on 
 Tuesday, in the intervals of coughing, and rousing him- 
 self with a great effort from a lethargy, that he said, 
 * Tell Miss Miller I cannot write to her, but she does not 
 need any thing I can say to her, anci* I leave her my 
 dying blessing.' 
 
 * This letter has already appeared in Bunsen's Life. 
 
220 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ..." My Gourd has been taken away, but it has 
 been transplanted, a Tree of Righteousness, into the 
 Father's kingdom, and I desire to bless and praise Him 
 who, for nearly five blessed years, has lent me this pre- 
 cious treasure. He has taken away my earthly idol. He 
 takes from me the home I so delighted in, but it is to draw 
 me nearer to Himself, and I can only adore the love which 
 chastens. My dear friend, you too, and our dear people, 
 will need comfort. May God in his infinite mercy give it, 
 and grant one of the last prayers of your minister, that 
 1 he who is to come after may love his people.' Heart- 
 breaking as it is, I must come to you once again. If I 
 can bear it, I shall stay with you as long as I can, and 
 you must be sure that neither you nor my other Alton 
 friends will ever be lost sight of. As far as can be, my 
 strongest remaining wish on earth will be to comfort you 
 in a loss that I feel can scarcely be repaired. But God's 
 ways are not our ways, He will never forsake those who 
 seek after Him j He can raise up friends when they 
 think not of it, and when the poor and needy seek water 
 He will hear them, and give them the fountains of Life." 
 
 Last Letter of Julius to Augustus. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, Feb. 24, 1833. Dearest, dearest 
 Augustus, ' Shall I ever see you again ? ' You say in 
 your holy letter from Genoa, ' Beware of being too hope- 
 ful till we have been at least a month in Rome.' Have 
 I then been too hopeful ? Is it not to be ? Am I never 
 to see you again ? God's will be done. How great has 
 his goodness been to me, in giving me such a brother 
 as you have been, in allowing us to live together with 
 such perfect love for each other, such perfect confidence 
 in each other, as we have done for the last twenty years ! 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 221 
 
 My thoughts during these last days have been wander- 
 ing over the whole of that period, and I have been 
 thinking of every thing that you have been to me, and 
 done for me, and said to me ; and while I remembered 
 numberless marks of the sincerest and most generous 
 affection, I cannot call to mind one single instance in 
 which you ever allowed yourself even to utter a hasty 
 word at variance with it. Alas ! how different has my 
 conduct to you been. Never have you caused me a 
 moment's pain, unless it was for my good ; and even 
 then you have endeavored to soften the pain as much as 
 you could. Of a truth your love for me has been ' won- 
 derful, passing the love of women.' And what do I owe 
 you ? that I am where I am ; that I have the means, so 
 far as they can be bestowed by another, of enjoying 
 every earthly happiness ; that I am placed in a situation 
 where the faithful discharge of my duty to Christ is be- 
 come likewise my great earthly duty. Nor is this more 
 than a part, a small part, of what I owe you. Yet I 
 wished, fervently wished, to make this debt still greater, 
 among other things by learning from your example how 
 to walk in the path where you have set me. 
 
 " How shall I ever be able to walk there by myself ? 
 It seems to have been by a kind of prophetic instinct 
 that I was so anxious about your coming here before you 
 left England. Alas ! that I should have to live in a 
 house which has never been blest by your presence. 
 There has been that sympathy between our hearts and 
 minds that for so many years, whenever I have heard a 
 beautiful thought or story, or seen any beautiful object, 
 one of my first thoughts has always been, how Augustus 
 would like it ! and this bred the wish to tell you of it, 
 or to show it you. Until I had done this, my own 
 
222 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 enjoyment seemed but half complete. And now what 
 is the worth of all the beautiful objects by which I am 
 surrounded if you are never to see them? I wanted to 
 see you in my pew, too, which now will ever remain 
 empty : I wanted to see you, to hear you, in my pulpit. 
 We were to have set up a coach between Alton and 
 Hurstmonceaux. I have often amused' myself with 
 writing imaginary letters ' from the rector of Hurstmon- 
 ceaux to the rector of Alton, greeting.' And now is all 
 the future to be a blank ? Not quite, my Augustus ! As 
 our heavenly-minded comforter our dear Lucy says 
 most truly, ' I shall be more blest in walking through 
 the rest of life with the memory of such a brother, than 
 most persons are in the possession of living ones.' Oh 
 that that memory may prove a lively motive to me to 
 walk worthily of it. I am so weak, I want human 
 motives, I want human counsel and help. But that is 
 to be taken from me. Pray for me before you go, pray 
 that I may become worthy of meeting you again here- 
 after. I am writing despondingly, Augustus, but not as 
 as I wrote on Christmas Day. I am grown much calmer, 
 more resigned to the blow that appears to threaten us : 
 I can bless God for the inestimable blessing he Has given 
 us, which will continue an inestimable blessing even 
 after He has taken it away. But still I cannot help feel- 
 ing that the loss will be the greatest that can ever befall 
 me, that the pain will be the bitterest. Will it befall 
 me ? Oh, what a blessing it would be if you were to be 
 given back to us, snatched out of the very jaws of death 
 by Him who is the lord over death ! But Maria and 
 Lucy's two letters show me that the danger is great, that 
 there is more ground for fear than hope. They reached 
 me yesterday and the Sunday before : indeed, most of 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 223 
 
 your letters since you have been abroad have arrived on 
 a Sunday ; Elphick usually brings them to the vestry 
 after morning service, and I read them on my way home. 
 Of the former, which reawakened my fears after the 
 account of your recovery at Genoa and of your journey 
 to Pisa and Rome had made me perhaps unwarrantably 
 sanguine, I seemed to have a kind of second-sight while 
 I was preaching. My sermon had been an admirable 
 one of Arnold's, from whom I often take my morning 
 sermon ; they are so full of sense and sincerity, so 
 devoid of every thing like pulpit conventional slang, you 
 see he means every word that he says, they only seem 
 to me to want to be made rather more rhetorical in 
 manner. That was on the text, ' The Egyptians, whom 
 ye have seen to-day, ye shall see no more for ever.' In 
 the latter part, after speaking of the vain hopes with 
 which people comfort themselves in speaking of their 
 departed relations, he adds : * But there are others 
 and happy are those who have many such among their 
 friends and relations in whom the heavenward bent 
 of their minds, and the heavenly character of their 
 actions, is visible while they are here below, whom we 
 have seen in their youth and health treading firmly and 
 steadily in that path which, when they are gone, we may 
 say and feel assured, has brought them to their eternal 
 rest. For such there can be no uneasiness ; nor can 
 the boldest hope half come up to those unutterable joys 
 with which their Master now blesses them/ I know 
 not how, when writing this over, it did not strike me 
 how singularly I was one of those happy persons. But 
 in the pulpit this rose up before me so forcibly, and I 
 saw such a bright vision of my Augustus in bliss, that 
 for a few moments I quite forgot my audience, and, 
 
224 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 when I opened the letter from Rome, I found that the 
 fulfilment of my vision might perhaps be much nearer 
 than I had anticipated. Among other things I have 
 been thinking what memorial I should like to have of 
 you. Will you leave me your Sacrament cup, that which 
 you carry about to the cottages ? so may I, when I am 
 carrying it for the same purpose, be strengthened by the 
 recollection of him who bore it before me. God bless 
 you, and, if it may be, restore you to us ; if not, may He 
 render your passage into happiness as easy as possible. 
 God bless you, dear, dear Augustus, I cannot give up 
 all hope of seeing you again. Were Sterling in orders 
 you would see me at Rome, and even as it is, if I can 
 manage it, I shall set off to spend a couple of days with 
 you. You need not my assurance that I will always 
 cherish your Maria as a dear beloved sister, beloved for 
 her own sake, and still more so for yours. Again, God 
 bless you ! How can I bring myself to say, when it 
 may perchance be for the last time, God bless you ! " 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal. 
 
 "March 5. Bunsen called. The last time he was 
 here my Augustus was lying on the sofa, able to talk to 
 him, and ask him questions. He showed, as I knew he 
 would, the deepest sympathy with my grief, and seemed 
 so deeply touched with my allowing ' him to come, one 
 might have thought he was to be the gainer. . . . After 
 some other conversation, I asked what he thought about 
 the abode of the spirit when it leaves the body. ' We 
 must keep to what God's word says, it is never safe 
 in these matters to leave it. Our Saviour said, " To-day 
 shalt thou be with me in paradise." And we are else- 
 where told the souls of the faithful shall be with God ; 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 225 
 
 so that we may safely conclude them to be in bliss, 
 though the full consummation of that bliss is reserved 
 to the end when God shall be all in all. Your Church, 
 as I think, beautifully prays for the accomplishment of 
 the number of the elect, and I have introduced it into 
 our service. What may be the nature of their employ- 
 ment there, we have no means of knowing ; and fully 
 do I believe that it is in mercy that God has not vouch- 
 safed to reveal more, as it is in mercy that He has 
 revealed so much. He but lifts up the veil so high as 
 to encourage us on, what more is to be known will be 
 hereafter. We may be sure there is spiritual activity 
 in heaven, there can be no idleness there ; and what 
 will be the joy of those eternal praises sung to God by 
 the saints in glory ! ' I am not sure of the last few 
 words, but it was to this effect. Speaking of a hymn 
 used by Hugo Grotius on his death-bed, and of the 
 superiority of the ancient compositions over the modern 
 ones, ' They were written by persons who had endured 
 great afflictions, who had lived in perilous times : it does 
 very well in prosperity and happiness to go on with lower 
 views, but in fear of death and in suffering there is but 
 one rock to stay on, the merits and love of Christ.' He 
 seemed pleased that I had begun to go out again. ' I have 
 always found in affliction that the works of God are the 
 most soothing of all ; and here in Rome you may be so 
 much alone. The word of God and prayer are the first 
 things no doubt, but, next to those, his works are the 
 best comforters we can have.' Then he spoke of the first 
 bursting forth of spring : ' It is the revival of all things, 
 a type of the revival of the spirit after death.' He 
 rejoiced that Augustus was laid beside his own two dear 
 children. There was not a word that did not speak 
 10* o 
 
226 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. ' 
 
 the meek, humble, and loving Christian, and never did 
 I talk with one who I could feel was capable of deeper 
 sympathy." 
 
 While the shadow of death was resting upon 
 the upper chapter of the Via S. Sebastianello, and 
 the widow of Augustus seemed in spirit to have 
 followed him into the unseen, his eldest brother 
 Francis was established with his family in the Villa 
 Strozzi, a solitary house standing in an old-fash- 
 ioned garden decorated with grottoes and sumach- 
 trees, just on the edge of the Viminal, where the 
 Negroni gardens break away to the slopes of 
 the Esquiline. Francis Hare had for so many 
 years lived entirely abroad, that he had adopted 
 all the habits of foreign life. Familiarly ac- 
 quainted with every variety of Italian dialect, 
 and deeply versed in classical learning, the his- 
 tory and literature of Italy were as familiar to 
 him as his own. He was eagerly sought as a 
 cicerone and adviser by visitors to Rome, but his 
 own preference was for Italian society, of which he 
 always saw the most interesting and the best. He 
 had already three children, a fourth was born on 
 the 13th of March succeeding his brother's death, 
 from whom it was desired that he should inherit 
 the name of Augustus, while his widowed aunt was 
 invited to become his god-mother. 
 
 Julius to Francis Hare. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, March 6, 1834. It is very, very 
 long since I wrote to you. I began a letter to you in- 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 227 
 
 deed this day two months, but I could not finish it. 
 All other feelings of late have been swallowed up in 
 anxiety about Augustus, and I have scarcely written to 
 any one except about him, and to those who could give 
 me the most accurate details. To-day, however, when 
 I have learnt that we have lost him forever in this 
 world, I feel a longing to tighten the tie with those 
 brothers who are still left to me j and while I have been 
 thinking over all I had, and all I have lost, in him, I 
 have also called to mind what I still have in my other 
 brothers. How much, dearest Francis, do I owe to you. 
 How much have I owed you ever since my earliest 
 years. How patient you were with me ; how indulgent ; 
 what pains you took with me ; how you gave up your 
 time to me ! What unvarying, unmerited kindness have 
 you shown me all my life long. And though we have 
 been so much separated by circumstances of late years, 
 and though my negligence has often let a very long 
 period pass without any communication between us, the 
 fault has been entirely on my side, and I found last 
 year at Naples that your affection was still as strong as 
 ever. Such, indeed, has always been my situation, that 
 I have constantly been the receiver of kindnesses from 
 all my brothers, and have hardly ever been able to do 
 any thing in return. I can merely acknowledge and feel 
 grateful for them. And to-day has re-enlivened my 
 gratitude to you, and makes me anxious to assure you 
 that all your goodness has not been thrown away on 
 one who is utterly unmindful of it. I want, too, to 
 thank you for all your kindness and attention to Augus- 
 tus. Alas, that I could do nothing for him ! But you 
 and Marcus have fulfilled my share of his nursing as 
 well as your own, and nothing in this respect seems to 
 
228 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 have been wanting. Still I can hardly bring myself to 
 believe that our brotherhood has lost its heavenliest 
 flower. It seemed to be such an essential part of one's 
 self. I could never conceive myself as living without 
 my three brothers, and almost fancied that time could 
 have no power over a bond so strong in affection. God 
 grant that the same bond which has existed here on 
 earth, and which has now begun to dissolve, may 
 hereafter be united again in still stronger affection in 
 heaven ! " 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal. 
 
 "April 10. Mrs. Bunsen spoke of some German 
 writer, Schelling, I think, who said that everyone in the 
 course of life is called upon, like Abraham, to sacrifice 
 his Isaac. She spoke of how often men of genius forget 
 to choose a friend in their wife how often the man was 
 consequently vulgarized, degraded, by his marriage 
 how difficult in society it is for a man to understand 
 what a woman really is. Her last words to me were, 
 * The hand of God has touched you, the same hand can 
 heal you.' 
 
 "April ii. St. Peter's: my last view. On earth 
 God has no temple like this, and yet in every believer's 
 heart is a truer, a more living temple to his glory. May 
 mine become so ! may the prayer breathed in that glo- 
 rious House of Prayer be heard and answered, and 
 Rome, dear Rome, the scene of saddest sorrow, be the 
 foundation of deep joy and everlasting gladness, in that 
 lively hope here vouchsafed of an inheritance in the 
 heavenly city, where, with my beloved Augustus, there 
 will be no more sorrow or weeping, but where we shall 
 enjoy together the glorious liberty of the sons of God." 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 229 
 
 Maria Hare, Note-Book (in travelling). 
 
 " When we compare Christians of this day with those 
 of the first ages of Christianity, their meagre and blighted 
 feelings and half-grown fruits are as the foliage, flowers 
 and fruits of England compared with those of Italy. 
 They have all the same root, but those of Italy are rich 
 and full and perfect in their beauty, those of England 
 look as if withered by want of sun -to ripen and perfect 
 them. We seem to shrink from being too perfect, and to 
 be afraid of appropriating to ourselves all the fulness 
 of apostolic joy, else why do not the same truth, the 
 same words, send us on our way rejoicing with gladness 
 and singleness of heart ? " 
 
 " In searching into the hidden things of God how we 
 forget that we know in part." 
 
 '"One difference between God's word and man's is, 
 that while we may reach the highest standard set before 
 us by the one, we find the more we advance towards the 
 other, the more it seems to pass on before us and rise 
 above our utmost efforts." 
 
 " Men of the world often like to talk of Religion and 
 Christianity ; the man of God delights to talk of God 
 and Christ." 
 
 " There is a one-sided view in religion, as in every 
 thing else, and those who dwell solely on the one-half 
 of the Bible and leave the other untouched must fall 
 into the errors either of Antinomianism or Legality. The 
 truth is a whole perfect in all its parts, and only to be 
 found in all its fulness in God's word taken as a whole, and 
 not one part disjointed from the rest. If by Antinomian- 
 ism is meant a belief in Christ uninfluencing the life, many 
 
23O RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of those who use the term in abuse of others are entitled to 
 it. What can be nearer to it than the profession made of 
 resting on a Saviour's merits by those who never by act, 
 word, or thought show love to that Saviour, and who rest 
 satisfied with the form of godliness without the power ? y 
 
 " The Gospels are first instruments in convincing a 
 man of sin by showing him all the breadth and spiritu- 
 ality of Christ's law. The sinner who is by them awak- 
 ened to his own shortcomings in holiness by looking at 
 Christ's model then comes to St. Paul, and learns from 
 him where to find relief j and having through faith in a 
 crucified Saviour and access to the Father through Christ 
 found peace, he then returns to the Gospels, and finds 
 them lit up by a new light, that shines more and more 
 unto the perfect day." 
 
 " How true it is of the renewed mind, that it finds 
 ' Sermons in stones and good in every thing.' " 
 
 " There is only one kind of hatred the fruit of which 
 is peace, the hatred of self." 
 
 "The eastern imagery of the Bible is the dress in 
 which the essential Truth is wrapped up ; it is peculiar 
 to the language of the country whence it came, but the 
 feeling it expresses is universal, and quite as fully shared 
 by every spiritually minded believer now as it was in the 
 days of David or Isaiah." 
 
 The travellers crossed the Mont St. Gothard on 
 mules, a terribly fatiguing and anxious journey 
 through the deep snow, one of their carriages, as 
 they followed them, being overturned three times, 
 and the other twice, on the way. 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 23 1 
 
 Maria Hare to Catharine Stanley. 
 
 "Zurich, May 15. The St. Gothard was indeed an 
 anxious journey, but I went on, only feeling thankful- 
 ness all the way that we had not attempted crossing the 
 Alps last winter, and thinking what misery it would have 
 been to me were he with me now, even in improved 
 health. . . . The sublimity and grandeur of the moun- 
 tain scenery, though lifting one up indeed above this 
 world, was lifting one up to a God of power and maj- 
 esty, not of love, and gave me a deep and painfully op- 
 pressive feeling very unlike the soothing effect of Italian 
 beauty. Yesterday I felt it was quite a relief to look 
 only on green pastures and green hills as we came here, 
 although some parts of the road were too like England 
 not to pain me in another way. I miss the sky of Italy 
 greatly, and that peculiar beauty every thing has there, 
 but the domestic character of the villages and people 
 and quiet bonhommie of their manners are much more 
 congenial than the godless, noisy Italians. You may 
 imagine how in seeing some of the places again I have 
 been carried back to what seems like the beginning of 
 life, so entirely does my real life seem to have been com- 
 prised in these sixteen years since I last saw them. All 
 re se up before me, and, except in my admiration of the 
 scenery, I hardly felt as if my present identity were the 
 same ; and how predominant was the feeling of thank- 
 fulness, how strong the conviction of the mercy and love 
 that had even through many sorrows been with me 
 throughout : the great happiness that has been granted 
 to me, and now, when that is taken away for ever, the 
 inward peace and comfort which can make me really 
 enjoy every blessing left to me with double the feeling I 
 then had. It seems to me as if I was then so completely 
 
232 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 at the mercy of every passing event and circumstance of 
 life, as if now I had an anchor of hope so sure and firm 
 to rest on, that, let what winds will blow, I still must 
 weather all. Oh ! I trust and hope I shall keep firmly 
 to that confidence, but I feel as if there would be quite 
 a new and different trial of my faith when I have to act 
 and not to think, and when the reality of this life and 
 all its present interests comes more strongly before me. 
 And then in my loss it is not as in minor ones, where 
 the first shock is the great suffering, and every day 
 that succeeds softens and lessens it ; with me every day 
 seems to add and make it grow larger, and the resigna- 
 tion of yesterday does not supply to-day's need. The 
 daily burden needs daily fresh strength and fresh help 
 to meet it, and were that to be omitted would become 
 too heavy to bear. I feel so strongly how it is that 
 affliction when yielded to, or stoically submitted to, fails 
 in its effect as a corrective, how entirely the cross to 
 one's self-will is the bringing one's heart to receive it 
 without a murmur." 
 
 The thought of the Hurstmonceaux home, which 
 Julius dwelt upon for her, was indeed that which 
 brought most consolation to his widowed sister-in- 
 law as she drew near England. She crossed from 
 Ostend with the Marcus Hares, and, landing at 
 Broadstairs, went first to her brother's house at 
 East Sheen, whither her father, Mrs. Oswald Ley- 
 cester, and Mrs. Stanley had come to meet her. 
 There also she first saw Julius, who had already 
 written. 
 
 " God be praised, dearest Maria, that you are arrived 
 safe in your own, your Augustus's country ! May He 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 233 
 
 support you through all the trials that await you in the 
 course of the next month. Why is it that a meeting 
 with those whom we love, after a time of bitter affliction, 
 is so painful, when a stranger produces no sort of emo- 
 tion ? / Is it that they arouse us out of our torpor, and 
 by awakening the heart make it feel that its fountain is 
 dried up ? I long to have you safe lodged at Hurstmon- 
 ceaux. Till then you will have no calm, no repose." 
 
 After Mrs. Hare had passed a week with her 
 family, her sister went with her to Alton, where 
 the three weeks which alone were permitted them 
 passed all too quickly in sad partings and prepa- 
 rations. 
 
 In after years Mrs. Stanley often described the 
 arrival at Alton, how at first her sister lay for 
 some time upon the sofa without daring to open 
 her eyes to look round ; then she asked her to read 
 the 1 1 6th Psalm, and in a short time said, "Now I 
 am quite easy." After the first two or three days 
 she gradually went about to some of the people 
 every day, and was greatly comforted by the cheer- 
 ful, simple way in which they bid her look forward 
 to another world. All the cottagers in the parish 
 subscribed to put up a monument of affectionate 
 and grateful remembrance in the church ; every 
 one put on black ; those who had nothing else put 
 black strings to their caps. 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 "Alton, June 28, 1834. If my dearest Luce could 
 have seen me half an ], our ago seated between the two 
 
234 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 dear old men, William Perry and William King, she 
 would have felt her brightest anticipations of my return 
 to Alton realized. I could feel nothing but joy as I 
 talked with them, and received their simple comfort, 
 1 He will never come to we no more, but we may go to 
 he ; and through the blessed Saviour we shall all meet, 
 where there will be no more sorrow.' So they left me 
 with these words, after a conversation in which their 
 thankfulness for all their trials, their simple trust in 
 God's mercy, and the hope of rest to come, made one 
 forget this world was one of suffering in looking on to 
 the one to come. Truly, such comforters as these do 
 one's heart good. How I do thank and bless my God 
 that He strengthened me to come here. Every day 
 brings with it such testimonies of affection and gratitude 
 as are most precious ; and in the two cottages I have 
 been in this morning the change and growth I find 
 is most delightful, thankfulness and content where 
 there was murmuring, conviction of sin, and longing 
 after righteousness, where there was indifference \ but 
 it does seem, indeed, as if God had been sending a 
 great increase upon both these parishes. Though it is 
 now harvest-time, and in all other places the evening lect- 
 ures are given up, they cling so here to Mr. Kilvert's last 
 words, that he has a full attendance in the church every 
 Wednesday evening. Yesterday I saw Mr. Majendie, 
 who was touched as if he was a brother with the sense 
 of his own loss, and it seems he has been quite over- 
 whelmed whenever he has come over to this church." 
 
 " June 29, Sunday Evening. You know I never 
 hoped to have been able to go to church at all here ; 
 but this morning I felt as if I could do it, my heart 
 did long after ' the courts of my God,' I thirsted after 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 235 
 
 that comfort I had been so long deprived of, and I re- 
 solved to go. I went before the people were all in, so 
 got a little accustomed to the seat before service began. 
 And then, though sad, very sad recollections did come 
 over me at times, and the singing brought many tears, 
 they were soft and gentle tears, and great was the peace 
 and comfort given by the appropriate words of the differ- 
 ent hymns Mr. Kilvert had chosen. Then the sermon, 
 or rather for it was from the desk the exposition, of 
 the words in John xiii., ' What I do thou knowest not 
 now, but thou shalt know hereafter,' were, indeed, fitted 
 to calm a troubled mind. Oh, how I wish you could 
 have heard him. He dwelt on St. Peter's Day, brought 
 all the passages of his life forward with practical appli- 
 cation to every different state of mind, urging those 
 who had faith and love to remember it was not a little 
 faith we must rest content with \ those who had not that 
 little to seek for it, and not look on it as a wonder, a 
 mystery only ; and warning the ungodly of the awaken- 
 ing that must come. But the chief, the most touching 
 part, was quite addressed to me, showing how the trials 
 which we are now exercised with, would hereafter be 
 clear to us in all their mercy and goodness, bringing 
 various Scripture passages of waiting on the Lord in 
 patience, and the example of the prophets, martyrs, and, 
 lastly, at some length, of our great High Priest himself 
 and his sufferings, so that we might count our present 
 trials small in comparison with theirs. Then urging in 
 the most practical way, as the only weapon, prayer, 
 prayer, the health of the soul. I do so rejoice I went, 
 because, having had the first pain over, I can now go 
 again, and it is such a refreshment. I never once 
 looked up, so I did not see anybody there, and when I 
 
236 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 did think of him who so loved that house of prayer, it 
 was only to feel that his Sabbath is an eternal one, his 
 worship freed from weariness of body or of mind, and 
 that he was rejoicing in the same Saviour whose presence 
 was cheering me." 
 
 One subject which occupied Augustus Hare's 
 widow during her short stay in her old home was 
 sending to their destinations the different letters 
 which he had dictated, and which she had hurriedly 
 written down beside his death-bed. Among these 
 was the following : 
 Augustus W. Hare to Lady Blessington. 
 
 "'Rome, but from a Roman death-bed. Pray, dear 
 Lady Blessington, accept the accompanying volume of 
 sermons, and for God's sake preserve them, and read 
 them as the words of a dying man. It is now above two 
 months that I have been looking death in the face, and 
 every hour of that time has made me feel more and more 
 that Christianity is the great remedial measure ; but for 
 Christ I could not have borne to have had the great 
 moral eye of God's justice fixed on me. If there are 
 any things in the volume which seem strange to you, 
 do not throw them aside without considering whether, 
 though strange, they may not be true. Oh, Lady Bless- 
 ington, if you knew how much I wish I could hope I was 
 sure of meeting you in the place to which God is taking 
 me. Can I hope this ? 
 
 " Yours most gratefully, 
 
 "Augustus W. Hare." 
 
 The little monument which was erected to Au- 
 gustus Hare by his poor friends at Alton bore the 
 inscription : 
 
FROM SUNSHINE INTO SHADE. 237 
 
 "Sacred to the memory of the Rev. Augustus W. Hare, M.A., 
 sometime Fellow of New College, Oxford, and Rector for five 
 years of this Parish, who, having gone to Italy for the restoration 
 of his health, died at Rome, Feb. 18, 1834, aged 41. 
 
 "The Parishioners of Alton-Barnes and Alton-Priors, sorrowing 
 deeply for his loss, have placed this tablet in thankfulness to God 
 who gave and spared him to them a little while, and in affection- 
 ate remembrance of the love wherewith he loved and tended the 
 flock of Christ committed to his charge." 
 
 The monument which the four brothers had al- 
 ready arranged to erect in Hurstmonceaux Church, 
 with a bas-relief representing their mother's death, 
 by Kessels, was now placed there, in the chancel. 
 
 With the church which held this memorial, with 
 the parish in which so many of the earlier genera- 
 tions of his family had their home, the life of 
 Augustus Hare's widow was henceforward to be 
 connected. Most tenderly, with the most reveren- 
 tial love, was she welcomed to the home and heart 
 of Julius, with whom, more than any other, she 
 could hold constant communion concerning him 
 whose invisible presence and influence were equally 
 felt by both, him of whom Julius wrote : 
 
 " He is gone. But is he lost to me ? Oh, no ! He 
 whose heart was ever pouring forth a stream of love, the 
 purity and inexhaustibleness of which betokened its 
 heavenly origin, as he was ever striving to lift me above 
 myself, he is still at my side pointing my gaze upward. 
 Only the love, which was then hidden within him, has 
 now overflowed and transfigured his whole being ; and 
 his earthly form is turned into that of an angel of light. 
 
238 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Thou takest not away, O Death ! 
 Thou strikest ; absence perisheth ; 
 
 Indifference is no more. 
 The future brightens on the sight ; 
 For on the past has fallen a light, 
 
 That tempts us to adore." 
 
XIII. 
 
 HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 
 
 " Nothing is lost that is loved in God, since in Him all 
 things are saved to us." S. Bernardino of Siena. 
 
 " He alone never loseth what is dear to him, to whom all 
 things are dear in Him who is never lost." St. Augustine. 
 
 TN all in which two quiet phases of life can be 
 * totally different from each other, did that which 
 was opening at Hurstmonceaux differ from that 
 which had closed at Alton. First, there was the 
 variety of outward scene, the exchange of a 
 limited oasis of green fields, stranded like an island 
 in the great Wiltshire plain, which, though filled 
 with waving corn in summer, was but a ploughed 
 desert through the winter months, for the wooded 
 uplands of Sussex, the richly cultivated fields, and 
 the leafy lanes of Hurstmonceaux, the wild de- 
 serted deer-park with its ferny glades, its stag- 
 headed chestnuts, and its ruined castle, the fine 
 old church with its ancestral associations, and the 
 wide view over a campagna-like level which repeats 
 every cloud in its varying fluctuations of light and 
 shadow, to the sparkling silver line of sea. Then, 
 instead of the farmhouse-like rectory in which 
 
24O RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Augustus had lived, the home of Julius was, even 
 externally, quite different from the ordinary type of 
 country rectories, but rather like a good country 
 house, well placed in grounds' of considerable ex- 
 tent. 
 
 " The rectory," wrote Arthur Stanley, " stood far 
 removed from church, and castle ; and village. . . . 
 Of all the peculiarities of English life, none perhaps 
 is so unique as an English parsonage. But how 
 peculiar even amongst English parsonages was the 
 rectory of Hurstmonceaux. The very first glance 
 at the entrance-hall revealed the character of its 
 master. It was not merely a house with a good 
 library, the whole house was a library. The vast 
 nucleus which he brought with him from Cam- 
 bridge grew year by year, till not only study, and 
 drawing-room, and dining-room, but passage, and 
 antechamber, and bedrooms were overrun with the 
 ever-advancing and crowded bookshelves. At the 
 time of his death it had reached the number of 
 more than twelve thousand volumes ; and it must 
 be further remembered that these volumes were of 
 no ordinary kind. Of all libraries which it has 
 been our lot to traverse, we never saw any equal 
 to this in the combined excellence of quantity and 
 quality ; none in which there were so few worth- 
 less, so many valuable works. Its original basis 
 was classical, and philological ; but of later years 
 the historical, philosophical, and theological ele- 
 ments outgrew all the rest. The peculiarity which 
 distinguished the collection probably from any 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 2/J.I 
 
 other, private or public, in the kingdom, was the 
 preponderance of German literature. No work, no 
 pamphlet of any note in the teeming catalogues of 
 German booksellers, escaped his notice ; and with 
 his knowledge of the subjects, and of the probable 
 elucidation which they would receive from this or 
 that quarter, they formed themselves in natural 
 and harmonious groups round what already existed, 
 so as to give to the library both the appearance and 
 reality, not of a mere accumulation of parts, but of 
 an organic and self-multiplying whole. And what, 
 perhaps, was yet more remarkable was the manner 
 in which the centre of this whole was himself. 
 Without a catalogue, without assistance, he knew 
 where every book was to be found, for what it was 
 valuable, what relation it bore to the rest. The 
 library was like a magnificent tree which he had 
 himself planted, of which he had nurtured the 
 growth, which spread its branches far and Wide 
 over his dwelling, and in the shade of which he 
 delighted, even if he was prevented for the moment 
 from gathering its fruits, or pruning its luxuriant 
 foliage. 
 
 " In the few spaces which this tapestry of litera- 
 ture left unoccupied were hung the noble pictures 
 which he had brought with him from Italy. To 
 him they were more than mere works of art ; they 
 were companions and guests ; and they were the 
 more remarkable from their contrast with the 
 general plainness and simplicity of the house and 
 household, so unlike the usual accompaniments of 
 11 p 
 
242 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 luxury and grandeur, in which we should usually 
 seek and find works of such costly beauty. 
 
 "In this home, now hard at work with his 
 myriad volumes around him at his student's desk, 
 now wandering to and fro, book in hand, between 
 the various rooms, or up and down the long garden 
 walk overlooking the distant Level with its shifting 
 lights and shades, he went on year by year ex- 
 tending the range and superstructure of that vast 
 knowledge of which the solid basis had been laid in 
 the classical studies of his beloved university, or 
 correcting, with an elaborate minuteness which to 
 the bystanders was at times almost wearisome to 
 behold, the long succession of proofs which, during 
 the later years of his life, were hardly ever out of 
 his hands." * 
 
 Great also was the change from the quiet life of 
 monotonous seclusion, only rendered interesting by 
 the spirit of love which made all the village joys 
 and sorrows her own, to the ever-varying circle of 
 literary interests and of intellectual society by 
 which Julius was surrounded. 
 
 But most of all was the change great to Maria 
 Hare in the companion of her daily life, from the 
 loving character of Augustus, who was equally 
 gentle with all, who never manifested his antipathy 
 for any one, however distasteful they might be, 
 to the ardent, impulsive, enthusiastic, demonstra- 
 tive nature of Julius, equally manifest in love or 
 antipathy, vehement in language, unable to conceal 
 
 * Article by A. P. Stanley in the Quarterly Review, cxciii. 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 243 
 
 a feeling of any kind, and constantly doing battle 
 of some sort for his friends, if not for himself, 
 from Augustus, who was wholly absorbed in his 
 Master's work, and who lived only for the simple vil- 
 lagers by whom he was surrounded, to Julius, who 
 mingled so many other interests and occupations 
 with his parochial and ministerial duties, and who 
 was personally unknown to the greater proportion 
 of his parishioners. If only the one companion 
 was considered, it was like the change from a 
 moonlight calm to a storm at midday. 
 
 But perhaps in this very change she found what 
 was best for her at this time. Her absorbing grief, 
 her hidden life of prayer, might have made her 
 existence too purely contemplative, but for the 
 eager, stirring spirit at her side. And in Julius, 
 who was tender and chivalrous to all women, pitiful 
 and sympathizing to all in sorrow, his brother's 
 widow found a tenderness of more than fraternal 
 love, a watchful care, a gentle reverence, which 
 was almost amazing to those who saw them 
 together. He looked upon her coming into his 
 lonely home as the dawn of a new, a better, and a 
 happier life ; and, as the greatest blessing which 
 God could have given him, he honored and cher- 
 ished her. He confided in her every anxiety, he 
 consulted her on every duty, he talked with her of 
 all he read, he read to her all he wrote, he con- 
 sidered nothing worth having in which she had no 
 share. 
 
 Vividly still, through the mist of many years, 
 
244 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 there comes back to those who shared their home 
 the beautiful vision of his great love for his " Mia," 
 as he always called her, the touching remem- 
 brance of his manner in speaking of her, of the 
 glow upon his face, of the glistening in his eye, 
 the recollection of the intensity of tenderness, of 
 respect, and of blessing, which was poured forth for 
 her in his morning and evening greeting. And she 
 was truly in his home as " an angel in the house," 
 linking on her present to her past life, taking up 
 all her former duties, but with her soul purified and 
 enlightened by the furnace of sorrow through which 
 she had passed, receiving God's poor as a legacy to 
 watch and cherish, not morbid in grief, but ac- 
 cepting all the consolations which were left to her ; 
 not narrow in religion, and prone to refuse God's 
 other gifts, but joyfully receiving all, books, art, 
 music, and, above all, the beauties and pleasures of 
 nature, as helps, not hindrances, in her path. 
 And thus it came to be, that in her after years, 
 which to many seemed so desolate, as one friend 
 after another passed beyond the veil, while stran- 
 gers thought her course must indeed be leading her 
 through a thorny and a stony wilderness, it was 
 rather the ascending step by step of a ladder, 
 lighted by an unfailing glow of celestial sunshine, 
 and upon which figures of angels were ascending 
 and descending, forms often well-known and 
 loved, ministering spirits from God. 
 
 Well remembered by the few still remaining who 
 shared them, are the peculiar habits of the life in 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 245 
 
 these years at Hurstmonceaux rectory, the late 
 breakfast in the sunny book-lined room, with the 
 scent of the orange-trees and geraniums wafted in 
 through the open doors of the conservatory, the 
 eager discussions over the letters, the vehement 
 declamations over the newspaper, the frequent 
 interpolation of a reading from Coleridge or 
 Wordsworth, the constant interruption from the 
 host of beggars who knew only too well that they 
 were never sent away empty-handed, and who were 
 discovered to have left a secret notice for one 
 another at the entrance-gate that it was not a 
 house to pass by. Then Julius Hare would seize 
 his straw hat, and, while composing and meditat- 
 ing, would pace rapidly up and down his favorite 
 walk between the oak-trees, whence he could look 
 across the Level to the sea, against the shining 
 line of which the gray stunted spire of the hill-set 
 church would stand out as if embossed ; or some- 
 times he would saunter leisurely, with his Mia by 
 his side, and visit each growing shrub or opening 
 flower with familiar and fond affection. Then would 
 come the many hours of writing in his library, end- 
 ing only as the sun began to set, when he would go 
 forth in the evening dews upon a distant parish 
 walk, returning to dinner at any hour, utterly obliv- 
 ious of time ; and the evenings, filled with interest, 
 in which he would pace the drawing-room in eager 
 talk, snatching a volume every now and then from 
 the bookcase to illustrate what he was saying, or 
 would sit down and translate some German author 
 into fluent English as he read. 
 
246 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " An active parish priest, in the proper sense 
 of the word, Julius Hare never was ; not so much, 
 perhaps, by reason of his literary pursuits as of his 
 desultory habits. Constant, regular, vigilant min- 
 istrations to the poor, were not his wont, perhaps 
 they were not his call. Nor can he be said, as a 
 general rule, to have accommodated his teaching 
 to his parishioners. Compared with the short and 
 homely addresses of his brother Augustus to the 
 poor of Alton, his long and elaborate discourses 
 will hardly hold their place as models of parochial 
 exhortation, even to more enlightened congrega- 
 tions than those of Hurstmonceaux. But it would 
 be a great mistake to measure his influence on his 
 parish, or his interest in it, by these indications. 
 Coming to Hurstmonceaux as he did, to the 
 scene of his own early years, remembered as a 
 child by the old inhabitants, honored as the repre- 
 sentative of a family long known amongst them, 
 he was, from the first, bound to them and they 
 to him by a link which years always rivet with a 
 strength of which both parties are often uncon- 
 scious till it is rent asunder. His own knowledge 
 of their history, of their abodes, of their characters, 
 perhaps in great measure from the same cause, 
 was very remarkable ; and although his visits to 
 them might be comparatively few, yet theirs to the 
 rectory were constant, the more so because they 
 were always sure to receive a ready welcome. 
 Whatever might be the work in which he was 
 employed, he at once laid it aside at the call of the 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 247 
 
 humblest parishioner, to advise, console, listen, as- 
 sist. There was that, too, in his manner, in his 
 words, in his voice and countenance, which would 
 not fail to impress even the dullest with a sense of 
 truth, of determination, of uprightness, yet more, 
 with a sense of deep religious feeling, of abhor- 
 rence of sin, of love of goodness, of humble de- 
 pendence on God. Such a feeling transpired in 
 his ordinary conversation with them ; it transpired 
 still more in the deep devotion with which he went 
 through the various services of the church. ' If 
 you have never heard Julius Hare read the com- 
 munion service/ was the expression of one who 
 had been much struck, as indeed all were, by 
 his mode of reading this especial portion of the 
 Liturgy, ' you do not know what the words of that 
 service contain.' And in his sermons, needlessly 
 long and provokingly inappropriate as they some- 
 times were, there were from time to time passages 
 so beautiful in themselves, so congenial to the time 
 and place, that Hurstmonceaux may well be proud, 
 as it may well be thankful, to have its name, its 
 scenery, its people associated with thought and 
 language so just and so noble. Who is there 
 that ever has seen the old church of Hurstmon- 
 ceaux, with its yew-tree and churchyard and view 
 over sea and land, and will not feel that it has 
 received a memorial forever in the touching allu- 
 sions to the death of Phillis Hoad, to the grave 
 of Lina Deimling, to the ancient church on the 
 hill-top? Who that has ever heard or read the 
 
248 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 striking introduction of the stories of Hooker's 
 death, and of the warning of St. Philip Neri, in 
 the sermons on the ' Chariots of God ' and on the 
 ' Close of the Year,' will not feel the power and life 
 given to the pastor of the humblest flock by his 
 command of the varied treasures of things new 
 and old, instead of the commonplaces which fill up 
 so many vacant pages of the sermons of an ordi- 
 nary preacher. Not seldom, thus, a passage of 
 Scripture or an event of sacred history was ex- 
 plained and brought home to the apprehension of 
 his most unlettered hearers, when it seemed to 
 those who listened as if the windows of heaven 
 were opened for a flood of light to come down ; 
 and when the purest and most practical lessons 
 of morality were educed with surprising force 
 and attractiveness." * 
 
 The spirit by which Julius Hare's ordinary life 
 was animated was essentially a joyous spirit, per- 
 haps it was the very energy of his character which 
 made it so. " His family devotions," wrote his 
 friend Mr. Elliott, "were always large in thanks- 
 giving. He never prayed without thanksgiving ; 
 nor without the Lord's Prayer. And it was per- 
 haps that spirit, so abundant in thanksgiving, which 
 gave a charm and a joyousness, an uplifted heart 
 and a kindling eye to the general character of 
 his social life ; and which made him so ready to 
 love, and, wherever he was known, so beloved." 
 
 And this joyousness went forth to nothing so 
 
 * Quarterly Review, cxciii. 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 249 
 
 much as to the works of Nature, especially to her 
 smaller works, to the shrubs of his shrubbery, the 
 flowers of his garden, the view from his window. 
 The thoughts which occurred to him here in his 
 home-garden, as he was pacing its walks, were 
 often reflected in his sermons. Thus, in the 
 sermon on the Contagion of Evil : 
 
 "We are utterly unable to bring forth any thing, 
 whether in thought or deed, that shall be perfect in 
 the sight of God, as unable as we are to build up a 
 sky with our hands, and to launch a fleet of stars across 
 it. Hereby we betray a secret corruption of our nature, 
 the taint of which spreads through our whole lives. We 
 betray that we have touched the dead body of Sin. 
 Think what an enormous difference there is, in conse- 
 quence of this fatal touch, between man and the other 
 parts of creation. When a tree is healthy, what a num- 
 ber of leaves does it bring forth, each one perfect in its 
 kind, unless there be some blight, or some nipping 
 blasts, something not in itself, but from without, to in* 
 jure them. Now, man is made to be lord over the trees ; 
 and the lord should of right be better than that he rules. 
 Yet, when will man bring forth good thoughts, and good 
 words, and good deeds, as abundantly as the tree brings 
 forth its leaves ? Whereas if man's nature were sound 
 and healthy, surely the lord of the earth, he who was 
 made in the image of God, and was endowed with the 
 mighty, teeming powers, of thought and speech, and de- 
 sire, and affection, and action, ought not to be thus sur- 
 passed by creatures without thought or feeling. Or 
 think, again, of the beautiful flowers, each perfect in its 
 kind, which a garden brings forth in spring and sum- 
 11* 
 
250 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 mer ; and then tell me, where are your flowers which 
 God appointed you to bring forth? Where is their 
 sweetness ? Where are the living seeds in them ? Nay, 
 what flowers, how many, my brethren, have you brought 
 forth during the last summer? Think well, have you 
 done any thing to which you can give so fair a name ? 
 If not, can it be right that you alone in the universe 
 should utterly fail in fulfilling God's purpose. Again, 
 what rich ears of corn has this autumn ripened ! how 
 full they have been ! how heavy the grain ! Have our 
 deeds during the last autumn been like those ears of 
 corn ? Alas, no ! none of us can say this of himself. 
 Surely, then, we must all be unclean j for every thing we 
 do has a rotting taint of uncleanness." 
 
 From the way in which Julius Hare's habits of 
 thought all had their source in what he read, and 
 his constant hourly outpouring of all his opinions 
 and feelings thereon, the great authors both of 
 England and Germany seemed almost more familiar 
 as household inmates during the first years which 
 Maria Hare spent with her brother-in-law, than the 
 persons among whom they visibly dwelt. For 
 Coleridge and Wordsworth especially, his admi- 
 ration was almost unbounded. Coleridge he had 
 known intimately in his Cambridge life, though 
 after his removal to Hurstmonceaux he scarcely 
 saw him again ; but his interest in the man, as well 
 as in his works, was kept up through the medium 
 of his friend John Sterling, and the visits which 
 the latter paid to the poet in his retreat at High- 
 gate. In 1835 he showed his gratitude for all 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 25 I 
 
 that he considered he had learnt from Coleridge, 
 in a " Vindication," which he published in the 
 British Magazine, against accusations which had 
 been brought against both his private and philo- 
 sophic character ; this being the first of a series of 
 vindications which afterwards flowed from his pen. 
 In 1846 his "Mission of the Comforter" was in- 
 scribed " To the honored Memory of Samuel Taylor 
 Coleridge, the Christian philosopher, who, through 
 dark and winding paths of speculation was led to 
 the light, in order that others, by his guidance, 
 might reach that light without passing through the 
 darkness, these sermons on the work of the Spirit 
 are dedicated with deep thankfulness and reverence 
 by one of the many pupils whom his writings have 
 helped to discern the sacred concord and unity of 
 human and divine truth." 
 
 Even in his sermons, Julius Hare frequently 
 drew his illustrations from the works of Coleridge. 
 Such, in the sermon on "The Shaking of the 
 Nations," is the allusion to the Ancient Mariner. 
 
 "There is a beautiful poem, in which a mariner, 
 having committed a grievous sin, is visited with a terrible 
 punishment; and whereas most poets in such cases 
 would represent the offender as being overtaken with a 
 violent storm, even as Jonah was when he fled from the 
 presence of the Lord, the punishment of the mariner 
 consists in his being becalmed in the midst of the sea, 
 under 'a hot and copper sky,' where no breath was, or. 
 motion, until the very sea did rot, and slimy things 
 crawled about upon the slimy sea. This punishment 
 
252 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of the mariner is a sort of type of what the state of 
 the world would be, if God did not from time to time 
 shake it." 
 
 In the writings of Coleridge, his friend especially 
 honored the carrying out of what was, in fact, the 
 principle of his own writings, that " there should 
 be a reason not only for every word, but for the 
 position of every word." 
 
 " A man," wrote Julius Hare in the " Guesses at 
 Truth," " should love and venerate his native lan- 
 guage as the awakener and stirrer of all his 
 thoughts, the frame and mould of his spiritual 
 being, as the great bond and medium of inter- 
 course with his fellows, as the mirror in which he 
 sees his own nature, and without which he could 
 not commune with himself, as the image in which 
 the wisdom of God has chosen to reveal itself to y 
 him. He who thus thinks of his native language 
 will never touch it without reverence. Yet his 
 reverence will not withhold, but rather encourage 
 him to do what he can to purify and improve it. 
 Of this duty no Englishman in our times has 
 shown himself so well aware as Coleridge, which is 
 a proof that he possessed some of the most impor- 
 tant elements of the philosophical mind." Of the 
 death of Coleridge he wrote .: " The light of his 
 eye is quenched ; none shall listen any more to the 
 sweet music of his voice ; none shall feel their 
 souls teem and burst, as beneath the breath of 
 spring, while the life-giving words of the poet- 
 philosopher flow over them." 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 253 
 
 With Wordsworth, "above all men the poet of 
 nature," who had been equally honored by his 
 brother Augustus, Julius Hare preserved through 
 life an intimate friendship and an occasional corre- 
 spondence, and to him .he dedicated the second 
 edition of the " Guesses at Truth." A copy of his 
 works, old and worn with much reading, was never 
 permitted to be put up in his shelves, but always 
 lay upon the ledge of the book-case, near the door 
 which opened towards the garden, to be snatched 
 up and read in the open air in any stray moment 
 of refreshment. More than any other author, also, 
 would he read Wordsworth aloud in the evening, 
 his voice telling how his heart followed each line of 
 the poem. 
 
 " Wordsworth and Coleridge," he wrote, " came 
 forward in a shallow, hard, and worldly age, 
 an age alien and almost averse from the higher 
 and more strenuous exercises of imagination and 
 thought, as the purifiers and regenerators of poetry 
 and philosophy. It was a great aim, and greatly 
 they both wrought for its accomplishment. Many 
 who are now amongst England's best hope and 
 stay will respond to my thankful acknowledgment 
 of the benefits my heart and mind have received 
 from them both. Many will echo my wish, for the 
 benefit of my country, that their influence may be 
 more and more widely diffused. Many will join in 
 my prayer, that health and strength of mind and 
 body may be granted to them, to complete the noble 
 works which they have in store, so that men may 
 
254 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 learn more worthily to understand and appreciate 
 what a glorious gift God bestows on a nation, when 
 he gives them a poet." 
 
 It was on receiving an unpublished poem of 
 Wordsworth from the hands of Julius Hare, at 
 Hurstmonceaux Rectory, that Landor wrote the 
 lines : 
 
 " Derwent ! Winander ! your twin poets come, 
 Star-crown'd along with you, nor stand apart. 
 Wordsworth comes hither, hither Southey comes, 
 His friend and mine, and every man's who lives, 
 Or who shall live when days far off have risen. 
 Here are they with me yet again, here dwell 
 Among the sages of antiquity, 
 Under his hospitable roof whose life 
 Surpasses theirs in strong serenity, 
 Whose genius walks more humbly, stooping down 
 From the same heights to cheer the weak of soul 
 And guide the erring from the tortuous way. 
 Hail, ye departed ! hail, thou later friend, 
 Julius ! but never by my voice invoked 
 With such an invocation . . . hail, and live I '" 
 
 In the same month which brought his sister-in- 
 aw to live with him, John Sterling came to Julius 
 rfare as a curate, and the next six months were 
 passed by the three in constant intercourse and 
 intimate friendship. " Of that which it was to me 
 personally to have such a fellow-laborer," wrote the 
 rector, " to live constantly in the freest communion 
 with such a friend, I cannot speak. He came to me 
 at a time of heavy affliction, just after I had heard 
 that the brother who had been the sharer of all my 
 thoughts and feelings from my childhood had bid 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 255 
 
 farewell to his earthly life at Rome ; and thus he 
 seemed given to me to make up in some sort for him 
 whom I had lost. Almost daily did I look out at his 
 usual hour for coming to me, and watch his tall slen- 
 der form walking rapidly across the hill in front of 
 my window, with the assurance that he was coming 
 to cheer and brighten, to rouse and stir me, to 
 call me up to some height of feeling, or down 
 into some depths of thought. His lively spirit 
 responding instantaneously to every impulse of 
 nature or of art, his generous ardor in behalf of 
 whatever is noble and true, his scorn of all mean- 
 ness, of all false pretences and conventional beliefs, 
 softened as it was by compassion for the victims of 
 those besetting sins of a cultivated age, his never- 
 flagging impetuosity in pushing onward to some 
 unattained point of duty or of knowledge, along 
 with his gentle, almost reverential affectionateness 
 towards his former tutor, rendered my intercourse 
 with him an unspeakable blessing ; and time after 
 time has it seemed to me that his visit had been 
 like a shower of rain, bringing down freshness and 
 brightness on a dusty roadside hedge. By him, 
 too, the recollection of these our daily meetings 
 was cherished to the last. In a letter to his eldest 
 boy, who was at school, and to whom he used to 
 write daily, about two months before his death, 
 after speaking of various flowers in his garden, 
 especially of some gum-cistuses, he says : ' I think 
 I like them chiefly because I remember a large 
 bush of the kind, close to the greenhouse through 
 
256 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 which one passed into Mr Hare's library. The 
 ground used to be all white with the fallen flowers. 
 I have so often stood near it, talking to him, and 
 looking away over the Pevensey Level to the huge 
 old Roman castle, and the sea, and Beachy Head 
 beyond. The thought of the happy hours I have 
 so spent in talking with him is, and always will be, 
 very pleasant. It is long since I saw him. I have 
 been too ill, and have too much besides upon 
 me to keep up latterly almost any correspondence ; 
 but I know that if we meet to-morrow, or to- 
 morrow come a hundred years, it would be as of 
 old, like brothers."'* 
 
 The pleasure with which Sterling's visits were 
 welcomed at the rectory was of short duration. In 
 the following year the failure of his health com- 
 pelled him to leave Hurstmonceaux, and though he 
 long kept up a correspondence with his friends, 
 especially with Mrs. Hare, they seldom met after- 
 wards. 
 
 So few events marked the peaceful first ten years 
 of Maria Hare's widowed life, that it is unnecessary 
 to give any consecutive account of them. The 
 summers were all passed in the quiet of Hurst- 
 monceaux, in devotion to the spiritual and temporal 
 interests of its poor ; the winters were spent at 
 Stoke Rectory with her father, now in a most 
 patriarchal old age. The impress of the thoughts 
 and interests by which she was surrounded is left 
 
 * Life of John Sterling, affixed to his "Essays." 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 257 
 
 in the following gleanings from letters and journals 
 of this time : 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 " Hurstmo?iceaux Rectory \ July 16, 1834. Am I really 
 here ? Is this place I look upon I write from really 
 Hurstmonceaux ? I hardly yet feel it. The shock of 
 leaving Alton, of coming here first, is not yet passed 
 away enough to leave me free to think or know where I 
 am. My Luce, I never yet felt any thing like the dead 
 melancholy of my present sense that Alton and its beauti- 
 ful happiness have passed away forever. I cannot tell you 
 what the feeling was on arriving here yesterday to know 
 that the seal was set to it, that there remains no more of 
 the past, that all is become new. . . . Yet I feel strongly 
 how good it is for me to be taken away from such smooth 
 paths, how far too pleasant and self-indulgent a life it 
 would have been to deal with such affectionate and sim- 
 ple people as those, to have had such tender love and 
 gratitude. No : God loves me far too well to endanger 
 keeping my self-loving heart from its onward path, by 
 allowing such earthly happiness, and yet He scatters 
 such blessings around me as may safely be permitted 
 elsewhere. 
 
 " On Sunday I gave all the Bibles, covered with black 
 cloth, and made, though with much difficulty, a little ex- 
 hortation to the Alton children with so precious a gift. 
 I printed in the first page, ' From her dear minister, Rev. 
 A. H.,' and 2 Tim. iii. 14, 15. . In the evening, Mr. Kil- 
 vert preached in the little church on * Awake, thou that 
 sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give 
 thee light.' It was a very striking sermon, and the ani- 
 mating thoughts which it aroused lifted up my poor 
 
 Q 
 
258 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 drooping spirit from the very, very sad feeling of never 
 again being in that most blessed church my Augustus's 
 church, and with his people to the time when the 
 redeemed of the Lord will meet to sing together the 
 praises of the Lamb in the church on high. 
 
 " July 20. I daily feel more and more how exactly 
 this place is suited to me, how fitted at present to re- 
 store my inward peace. There is so much time alone, 
 and so much interest of a kind which will take me out 
 of self ; and of Julius I cannot tell you all the gentle- 
 ness and tender affection. I have been for two days 
 with the Penrhyns at Eastbourne, which is the quietest 
 place possible, no smart people, and a magnificent sea. 
 As I sat on the beach till near dark, and watched the 
 waves rolling up and the vessels sailing on in the even- 
 ing sunlight, how I did think of that bright sun that 
 lights our fragile vessels through a sea often troubled, 
 and will as surely lead them to a haven of peace and 
 rest, that haven where he, my beloved Augustus, is 
 now safe from every storm and wave ! " 
 
 "Julius's delight at my return was the nearest ap- 
 proach to that affection I so miss, of any thing I have 
 met with. I found him in great sorrow at the news of 
 Coleridge's death. I feel too the public loss, as you 
 would if you had read the MSS. I have lately been 
 reading of his such a rare combination of the highest 
 intellectual and deepest spiritual truth as one seldom 
 sees ; but I can only now feel that he is truly one that 
 never dies, and think of the joy to his spirit to be set free. 
 There are some letters on the inspiration of Scripture 
 which Mr. Sterling lent me, showing strongly the mis- 
 chief done to many minds by insisting on the verbal 
 inspiration of the historical Scriptures, and making a 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 259 
 
 distinction I never saw before between the revealing 
 word that spoke in the law and by the prophets, from 
 the assisting Spirit that kept the other sacred writers 
 from all essential error in their narratives ; but with all 
 this there is mingled such a deep spiritual feeling of the 
 depth of God's word, such beautiful application of it, and 
 sense of its life and spirit, as only one could have who 
 had drunk deep of the well of living water. 
 
 "July 22. This house is quite perfect, not at all 
 too grand for a parsonage-house, though outside it looks 
 more like a small squire's than a rector's. . . . Yester- 
 day for the first time I went out with Julius in his new 
 carriage, and saw the old castle, which is very grand and 
 picturesque, and the churchyard, which is one I long to 
 go and sit in, having a magnificent old yew-tree, and a 
 view all around over a great open expanse, bounded on 
 one side by the sea ; just where you and I shall love to 
 spend hours together reading and talking over all those 
 heavenly joys on the other side of the grave, that many of 
 those sleeping beneath the sod are now enjoying. The 
 lanes leading to the church are very pretty. 
 
 Lucy Anne Hare to Maria Hare 
 
 " July, 1834. No one can now keep side by side 
 with you through every pang and recollection as I can. 
 I cannot tell you how constantly I feel, and the more 
 now I am a member of his family, that his absence 
 leaves a gap which no one else can fill, as peace- 
 maker, as one whom all (however they might disagree in 
 other things) agreed in loving. My own Mia, I am very 
 sure you are more blessed in the memory of such a hus- 
 band and companion than any one, even the happiest 
 one could name. ... I now feel as if Alton had passed 
 
26o RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 away, but shall always have the picture of it in my mind, 
 just as it was. I look upon you now, my Mia, with a 
 very peculiar feeling, as if a portion of your being were 
 dwelling with him, in the world whither he is gone, and 
 yet another portion were left among us, to cheer and en- 
 courage, to animate us on our way. If he whom I so 
 dearly loved has left a vacancy in my life, which I feel 
 nothing can ever fill up, you, whom I have equally loved, 
 have added a joy such as I have never felt. When I 
 think of you, it is like an Amen to the Bible, to the truth 
 and certainty of all its blessed promises, as your 
 strength has been, so I dare to hope mine would be, for 
 in every hour that passes, my heart's true expression is, 
 1 Whom have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none 
 upon earth that I desire beside Thee ? ' " 
 
 "August 12, 1834. One of the Guesses which has 
 lately been much in my thoughts is, ' A man does harm 
 to others by his actions, to himself- by his thoughts.' 
 How often at the close of a day, all outwardly fair and 
 harmless, those around might say, ' how good ; ' one's 
 own heart, ' how bad : ' the Christian life is so very ten- 
 der, a thought, a bad feeling only momentarily let in, 
 lonely moments neglected, prayers put off, human praise 
 delighted in, self promoted while apparently kept down. 
 ' To walk with God ' is a mystery, a mere form of words, 
 to the, as yet, unfighting Christian ; but when once the 
 warfare is begun, the unending conflict here between 
 grace and sin commenced, how clear, how expressive 
 they are j we cannot walk with Him if there is a single 
 point at variance, our will must be his, our spirit his." 
 
 The one drop wanting in the cup of married 
 happiness at Alton had been that no child had 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 26 1 
 
 been given, and as his earthly life was fading, 
 Augustus Hare had grieved that his Mia should 
 not have this interest left to comfort and solace 
 her. In the solitary hours of her long return jour- 
 ney it had occurred to her as just possible that her 
 brother-in-law Francis and his wife might be in- 
 duced to give up their youngest child, Augustus, 
 born at the Villa Strozzi, in the first weeks of her 
 sorrow, and to whom she had been godmother. 
 When she was established at Hurstmonceaux rec- 
 tory, she determined to make the attempt, and was 
 almost as much surprised as rejoiced by the glad 
 acquiescence her proposal met with. She stipu- 
 lated that the child should henceforward be hers 
 and hers only, in every sense of the word, and that 
 it should be brought up to consider all her family 
 as its relations, as near, or nearer than those 
 who were related to it by blood. But no opposi- 
 tion was made to her wishes, and it was promised 
 that the child should be sent to her in the following 
 summer, when it would be fifteen months old. 
 
 How happy this adopted relationship of mother 
 and son became in after years, how close their 
 union, how filled with every blessing to the child 
 who in heart was more than her own, who shared 
 her every interest, her every thought, none but 
 those who had a part in their daily life can tell. 
 
 Maria Hare's Note-Book. 
 
 "Sept., 1834. It often seems to me as if my own 
 spiritual experience afforded a clue to the varying opin- 
 
262 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ions and theories of others ; formed as they usually are 
 on one state of feeling, and not on the many states 
 through which a Christian has to pass. 
 
 " At Rome, when I had so felt the real weight of sin, 
 that I could not hope for eternal happiness from any 
 good works of my own, and had sought and obtained 
 peace through faith in Christ's all-sufficient sacrifice and 
 merits, then followed a complete renunciation of self into 
 God's hands. It seemed for a time as if self was swal- 
 lowed up in the contemplation of eternity and the assur- 
 ance of the inheritance bought for me by Jesus. All the 
 rubbish of earthly-mindedness seemed swept away, and 
 I lay, as it were, quite passive for the actings of God's 
 spirit. Thoughts of God were the first to spring up in 
 the morning j my heart waited not for my head to teach 
 it how to pray, but was lifted up unconsciously and with- 
 out effort in words of prayer and praise. The looking 
 to Jesus as my Saviour, though before the all-prevailing 
 and influential source of love and gratitude, seemed now 
 for a season to be lost in the adoration of God Himself, 
 and the operation of his Spirit on my soul, sometimes 
 felt almost sensibly in an indescribable communion with 
 Him who is ' in us all,' became more exclusively the 
 object of my thoughts. In prayer I felt most strongly 
 that God was in me, that I no longer had to search for 
 Him out of self; his temple was my heart. I knew 
 nothing then of mysticism ; I had never read a word of 
 that school of theology : but I sometimes thought within 
 myself this must be very much what the Quakers feel. 
 There was then no temptation to try me ; I was ab- 
 stracted from the world, lived in a complete atmosphere 
 of spiritual and heavenly thoughts, and sin seemed to be 
 completely dead. But this was not to last, my peace- 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 263 
 
 ful, uninterrupted heaven on earth my Roman soli- 
 tude ended. The journey, with all its trials of 
 fatigue, illness, sorrow, the having again to do with my 
 fellows, soon showed me that sin, though lulled asleep 
 for a while, was not dead, and, of course, the near view of 
 heavenly things I had obtained quickened the mind to de- 
 tect the least falling away from the perfect union of my will 
 with God's, that for a time seemed to have been allowed. 
 Then frequent, painful experience of the continued, 
 though subdued power, that self retained, brought me 
 again to feel the blessedness of the Saviour's love and 
 righteousness, to feel the comfort of the forgiveness He 
 had bought, and the sure dependence I might place 
 on his perfect goodness in the sight of God, as a rock 
 never to be moved, while my sanctification must ever be 
 imperfect, and, if the sole ground of hope for justification, 
 must be unstable. 
 
 " So, as it seems to me, is it that there is a germ of 
 truth contained in Quakerism, Mysticism, and even the 
 enlarged Unitarian notion of the Godhead ; . . . but all 
 equally fail in not being adapted to the corruption of 
 the outward world, wherein, without becoming hermits, 
 temptation to evil is unavoidable, and corruption in 
 the heart though rendered in the regenerate sudor- 
 dinate to the love of God is not rooted out. So that 
 without continual beholding of God in Jesus Christ, we 
 shall grow cold in love ; without looking to Him as our 
 justification, we shall become faint in hope ; and with- 
 out making Him our example, we shall come short in 
 holiness." 
 
 "Nov. 1. When from outward circumstances or 
 inward temperament, the Bible is the main food of my 
 
264 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 mind through the day, and all other supply of intellectual 
 nourishment is only the garnish, as it were, to this chief 
 dish ; or, to borrow an image from music, when God's 
 word is the air, and man's word only the accompani- 
 ment, my soul is kept in perfect peace ; it feels as if all 
 were in its right place and fitting proportion. When, 
 on the contrary, from hindrances from without or within, 
 this is not so, and the wisdom of man is most promi- 
 nently brought before me, and that of God thrown into 
 the distance, I feel ill at ease, and my mind seems tossed 
 to and fro without stay or peace. 
 
 "Nervous sympathy with others greatly adds to the 
 difficulty of maintaining a firm position when with those 
 who feel differently ; but perhaps this too may, by prayer 
 and watching and self-denial, be conquered through His 
 power, who is able to subdue all things to Himself. I 
 have not yet resisted unto blood. What must have been 
 the struggle, the fight of the divine against the human 
 nature which went thus far!" 
 
 "To the natural man, Time is the substance, Eternity 
 the shadow ; to the spiritual man, Eternity is the sub- 
 stance, Time the shadow." 
 
 " The difference of touch between a sensitive and ner- 
 vous woman and a rough ploughboy is much that which 
 there is in being with or without a thick gardening glove. 
 Many people seem to have a glove upon their minds, 
 and to feel nothing but the broadest and most general 
 outlines of a thing." 
 
 " It would be as unwholesome for the mind to feed 
 only on Scripture, as it would be for the body to be 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 265 
 
 restricted entirely to bread or to meat. There are dis- 
 eases of the body which require for a time the simple 
 diet of one kind of food ; and so the mind, under peculiar 
 trials or temptations, needs only divine truths to nourish 
 and strengthen it, and would not be able to digest other 
 spiritual food. But this is not the healthy and healthful 
 state of either body or mind. The variety of powers in 
 both require a variety of nourishment, that no one power 
 may go without its fitting support, and that all may be 
 invigorated and strengthened together." 
 
 " The worldling's motto is Self-indulgence ; the Chris- 
 tian's is Self-denial." 
 
 "In God's kingdom we cannot remain on neutral 
 ground j those who are not for are against. But there 
 are many who appear to man's eyes to stand neutral, 
 because he cannot discern whether the seed within is 
 ripening into life, or withering away to death." 
 
 " The soul that has once enjoyed the light of God's 
 countenance could no more disbelieve, though it were 
 never to be permitted to see it again, than the existence 
 of the sun could be doubted, though perpetual clouds 
 were to obscure it." 
 
 * Gleams of sunshine often light up the distant land- 
 scape, while the sky over our heads is covered with 
 clouds : so is the reflected light of Christ's righteousness 
 often seen in the members of his body, while the Sun of 
 Glory Himself is hid from view ; and by those who have 
 never beheld his face, the light which beams on his ser- 
 vants is ascribed to their own nature, and not recognized 
 as a borrowed light." 
 12 
 
266 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " When the new man is ' put on,' the old man is not, 
 alas, put off; it is only put under" 
 
 " No anthropomorphism in the New Testament ? Is 
 not the very essence of it contained in the manifestation 
 of the Incarnate God in the form of a servant, the 
 Word made flesh, seen heard handled carried 
 up into heaven there sitting at the right hand of God 
 the Father? 
 
 " The Trinity in Unity is revealed in the Old Testa- 
 ment ; the division of persons in the New. 
 
 " They follow two lines, Theology as a science, and 
 Religion as a personal way to salvation." 
 
 "The natural conscience can discern a difference 
 between right and wrong abstractedly, but when unre- 
 newed by divine grace there is no struggle against the 
 wrong when evil is present to the mind ; whereas the 
 new man feels the sin warring within him at the time of 
 its greatest influence, and strives to overcome it and 
 gain the victory." 
 
 " Christ tells us that the way of life is narrow, and 
 that few find it. But we are commonly told that it is 
 very uncharitable to suppose that any but decided 
 malefactors will not enter heaven. How wide, then, 
 must be the way, and how many find it ! " 
 
 " The man of the world comes to me and talks of the 
 comfort I must find in Religion ; that God will strengthen 
 me, perhaps. It is an abstract assertion, quite true 
 indeed, but could give me no comfort in itself. The 
 Christian talks to me of God's love in Christ, and we 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 267 
 
 dwell on the Saviour's love till our hearts burn within 
 us, and till the full depth of present suffering seems 
 light in comparison of the glory to come. The one 
 looks as a spectator on a scene in which he bears no 
 part, the other as a fellow-actor in a reality of which he 
 is sharing both the joy and the trials." 
 
 "'We walk by faith, not by sight.' In these days we 
 walk by sights not by faith. In all our dealings with 
 each other this is evidently the case : a reason must be 
 given, a proof shown of every act and every opinion ; it 
 must be demonstrated to us that our friend is right in a 
 tangible form, by some actual experience, before we will 
 take it for granted. Again, in education, the appeal is 
 made to the senses, not to the reasoning powers: a 
 child is taught numbers not by an act of the mind, but 
 by perception of the eye." 
 
 "We feel opprest when kindness after kindness is 
 poured in upon us by man, and no opportunity presents 
 itself of rendering any return. Would that we were 
 equally moved by receiving benefits from God, and 
 yielding him no token of thanks." 
 
 " The poor copies of Christ's life, which are presented 
 to us even in the lives of the most sincere Christians, 
 resemble the copies of good pictures made by little 
 children. The proportions are all faulty, and the colors 
 do not blend together. There is a likeness, but so im- 
 perfect a one, that we must not take pattern by the 
 copy, but ascend up to the original and study its every 
 feature, there, where alone it is perfect." 
 
268 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " It is much easier to catch hold of and imitate the 
 infirmities attendant on the virtues of others, than to 
 follow the simple grace itself ; and often the two are so 
 closely associated in our minds that we cannot distin- 
 guish them." 
 
 " The same pencil is hard upon one paper, and soft 
 upon another. How is this ? Does the pencil change ? 
 We see clearly here how the effect varies according to 
 the substance on which the pencil acts. And equally 
 certain is it that the seed, which is the Word of God, 
 though unchangeable in its own nature, produces differ- 
 ent results, according to the soil of the heart into which 
 it falls. Yet many seem to think only one impression 
 can be produced, and that all others must be wholly 
 false. 
 
 " It is as if one ray of the sun alone were the real one, 
 and all other rays a delusion. Truly, God's thoughts 
 are not as man's thoughts. How wondrous are the 
 riches and variety of his works and ways." 
 
 " I should like to add a word to one of the petitions 
 in the Litany, saying, * Forgive us our sins, negligences, 
 ignorances, and prejudices.'' How many wrong thoughts 
 of others, false estimates of things, and self-delusions, 
 are the result of prejudices formed hastily, or from some 
 bias of feeling, from drawing conclusions on insufficient 
 knowledge, or too great confidence in our own judg- 
 ment." 
 
 " Some good people seem to think that because self- 
 sacrifice is a noble thing, every thing in which self 
 is a sacrifice must be good and right. But our views 
 of sacrifice, like all others, are often dim and confused. 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 269 
 
 Sometimes self is sacrificed most where it may appear 
 to be giving up least, and sacrificed least when it seems 
 to be giving up most." 
 
 " In the Prayer Book we speak to God, in the Bible 
 God speaks to us ; yet in these days how many exalt the 
 one to an equality with the other, who would cry out if 
 accused of making the voice of man of equal authority 
 with that of God." 
 
 " In old days there was a simple and plain notion of 
 duty which was instilled into children, and acted on by 
 men. Nowadays every such act is considered in the 
 light of a sacrifice, and acquires thereby insensibly the 
 garb of a merit, so that, if it is not fully recognized, 
 or is fruitless, there is disappointment, and a feeling of 
 having made the sacrifice in vain. 
 
 " Those who make these sacrifices are held up to 
 admiration and praise, while such as do not appear thus 
 to give up any thing for others are looked upon as self- 
 ish and worldly. But in this, as in all other things, 
 Satan is busy to intermeddle and deceive. Often, in the 
 unobserved, silent performance of duty, which is felt 
 to be the natural and proper element of life, where no 
 thought of a self to be given up has place, and no alter- 
 native of self-pleasing comes into the mind, more of the 
 real spirit of Christ dwells, and the fruit of peace is more 
 visible, where nothing is expected, no disappointment 
 felt." 
 
 Lucy Anne Hare to Miss Clinton. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, Nov. 25, 1834. You will be as 
 glad to hear from me from this place as I am to write 
 
27O RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to you from it. I am more satisfied about Maria since 
 I came. She is very weak, but she looks so well, so 
 bright, so cheerful, I cannot think there is any thing 
 materially wrong j but we must wait for time to restore 
 strength to a frame which has been so much shaken. 
 She lies on the sofa all day, and Julius watches over 
 her with the tender care of a mother over a darling 
 child. You may guess how much we talk, how happy 
 we are again together. It is like a dream being here, 
 the spot which in our earlier visions was to be the Alton. 
 It is a bleak-looking country, but not ugly even at this 
 season ; and there is something very beautiful and 
 peaceful in the church and churchyard standing on the 
 hill overlooking the wide campagna, with the sea beyond. 
 I have been over the castle, and been shown the scenes 
 of many of Marcus's early plays and recollections. 
 This house is beautiful with books and pictures, and 
 the bright conservatory communicating with the draw- 
 ing-room and study. Maria lies in the former, with 
 Bunsen's perfect bust opposite, and the Raphael on her 
 right. I have driven past her home that is to be ; it 
 stands very conveniently for the church and school, and 
 many cottages near, and there are good open fields and 
 walks to the back, and a wide extended view. Julius 
 and Mr. Sterling have been very busy establishing a 
 Sunday school, and you would have been delighted to 
 see the teachers all grown men, laborers and farmers 
 giving their whole hearts to the work ; they come 
 voluntarily, for no pay, and attend regularly." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hark* 
 
 " Stoke, Dec. 15, 1834. Here I am once more in my 
 father's house. The first two days I seemed to see Au- 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 27 1 
 
 gustus's vacant chair, and hear his voice in every room. 
 When I open my Bible I can hardly turn to any part but 
 those chapters of St. John we read in Greek together. 
 When I look out on the well-known view I can hardly 
 give you any idea of the degree in which it appears to 
 me as a picture of past days, a scene seen through a 
 glass, with which I have no connection, and which has 
 no reality. It gives me no pain j and I look on Hodnet 
 Rectory and the Hawkestone Woods with a deadened 
 feeling of consciousness that all has passed away that 
 once gave them life, but with scarcely any feeling that I 
 am a sufferer by it. . . . The prevailing feeling I have 
 at present is always not how much I have suffered, but 
 what shall I render to God for all the exceeding mercies 
 with which He has loaded me." 
 
 "Jan. 17, 1835. My dear Luce, this was the day 
 we reached Rome : how different from this one ! I look 
 out now on a snowy world, and feel myself within a 
 poor and solitary Mia, whose happiness would be for 
 ever gone had not God of his exceeding mercy given 
 me to prefer Jerusalem above my chief joy, yes, even 
 above my Augustus, my Alton. Then, how I suffered 
 from the heat, from the anxiety, hourly increasing anx- 
 iety ; but the end and hope of our journey was before 
 us. At the extremity of the plain rose up St. Peter's, 
 and recollections of the eternal city were swallowed up 
 in the sight of Augustus's birthplace, in the hope of his 
 restoration, alas ! in how little anticipation of his heav- 
 enward flight. Every day, every hour of the next month, 
 will come before me as vividly as if it were yesterday ; 
 but it is only to make me bow with deeper thankfulness, 
 and more entire submission to Him who has so led me 
 through the deep waters without allowing them to over- 
 
2J2 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 whelm me. You will easily guess that now, when we 
 are the original Stoke trio once more, when I have no 
 outward thing to hide from me the bare reality of his 
 absence, I feel more sensibly than I have ever yet done 
 that on this earth I am alone ; and yet never did I feel 
 more truly that I am not alone, since Emmanuel him- 
 self, ' God with us,' has been made known to me in all 
 His power." 
 
 "Feb. 21. 'In all their affliction He was afflicted, 
 and the angel of his presence saved them : in his love 
 and his pity He redeemed them, and bare them all 
 the days of old.' These words were my comforters on 
 the 1 8th, the words with which I strove to cast off the 
 strong and painful recollection of the last struggles of 
 a departing spirit, and look up to Him who then in that 
 hour of first desolation, no less than through a whole 
 widowed year, has ' looked down on me and had com- 
 passion.' ... It is so blessed a privilege to roll all one's 
 cares over on God, to know that He will watch over 
 those that love Him, that not one drop will be added to 
 the cup beyond what is good and wholesome. My song 
 of praise on that first morning of my widowhood (Ps. 
 xviii. 14 to the end) has been truly mine through this 
 year. May I be graciously permitted to sing it with in- 
 creasing earnestness, to feel the 'Head Stone of the 
 corner ' more and more truly my refuge and dependence, 
 till I may sing it in the heavenly Jerusalem with him 
 who is now rejoicing in all the fulness of joy. You need 
 not fear for my health : I am creeping on by very slow 
 degrees, and in his own good time my Heavenly Father 
 will give me such a portion of ease and comfort as He 
 sees good for me, to do the work He has for me. May 
 I only be faithful in his service, and count all loss but 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 273 
 
 the furthering his glory and being conformed to his 
 image. I know now how little I believe, how weak is 
 my faith, how much I lack of humility and Christian 
 love j and I know that I can no more rest on myself for 
 one moment than the tottering babe can let go of its 
 mother's hand. But I am ambitious ! I do desire to ad- 
 vance far along the road I have now only entered, and 
 to draw many along with me. Still the flesh is weak 
 though the spirit is willing, and at present I can only 
 suffer and endure." 
 
 Julius Hare to Rev. F. Blackstone. 
 
 " Hurstmo?iceaux, December 5, 1834. I rejoice to 
 say that my widowed sister, who has been spending the 
 summer and autumn with me, has resolved to fix her 
 home in this parish. It is the greatest blessing which, 
 after so irreparable a loss, could have befallen me ; and 
 my parishioners too will all find it a blessing to them. 
 She lives in heaven with him who is gone before her ; 
 but is contented to wait with patience till God in his 
 own time shall think fit to reunite her to him." 
 
 Maria Hare to Miss Hibbert. 
 
 " Stoke Rectory, December 24, 1834. Your letter, my 
 dearest Laetitia, came when I was on the point of leav- 
 ing Hurstmonceaux, and the subsequent journey here, 
 and the rest necessary since I arrived, has prevented my 
 writing sooner. But I will delay it no longer, as I find 
 it always needful to take the opportunity now of seizing 
 any hour of wellness to do what I wish to do ; feeling so 
 uncertain of its continuance. Were it not for the all- 
 sustaining arm of my Redeemer and my God, for the 
 gracious answers He vouchsafes to my unworthy prayers, 
 12* R 
 
274 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 I should be weaker than the weakest ; for it is always 
 forgotten by those who so set up the natural strength of 
 character, that along with it goes also a natural strength 
 of feeling that requires even a greater degree of super- 
 natural strength than a mind weaker in itself. When, 
 when will people learn to give glory to God in the High- 
 est! My dear Laetitia, I have now, as you "know, been 
 ten months in the greatest of all human afflictions ; for 
 the last five months I have been constantly ill and ex- 
 tremely weak ; all resources of active life have been 
 entirely cut off, my longings to benefit others first the 
 poor and afterwards my own family by leading them 
 in the right way, have been entirely prevented, and I 
 have been forced to give up one attempt after another 
 at exertion both of body and mind ; and yet I can most 
 truly say that never has my abiding peace, nay, even 
 happiness, deserted me. * The shadow of a great rock 
 in a weary land ' has been over me. He who has prom- 
 ised to comfort, even as a mother comforteth her child, 
 has comforted and refreshed me. My connection in- 
 deed with this earth does seem altogether rent asunder, 
 and all around me even here, where there is so much to 
 remind me of the past, appears like a dream, a picture 
 that I can look at, now the first shock is over, almost 
 without emotion. My real life is that hidden one with 
 Christ in God which is a never-failing well-spring 
 of delight; and though in proportion as my health 
 enables me to return more to the usual routine of daily 
 life and society, the struggle must be greater to preserve 
 the spiritual joy and peace that can support me under 
 the earthly privation, I have found constant and earnest 
 prayer so effectual, my God so faithful, so tender in 
 mercy and loving-kindness, that I feel as if it would be 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 275 
 
 the height of ingratitude, the most inexcusable want of 
 faith, were I for one moment to doubt that He will bear 
 me up unto the end, and that He will never give me one 
 trial or struggle more than is fit for me. My prevailing 
 feeling on returning here is not how much I have suf- 
 fered, but how much mercy I have received during the 
 past year. To have the gulf removed that separated me 
 from God, to feel that union as of a branch in the Vine, 
 makes all suffering appear light, since it is his will, 
 since by it we may be more closely conformed to his 
 image who was made perfect through suffering. Were it 
 not for this, were it not for the unspeakable joy of feeling 
 that Jesus came at this time to be my Saviour, to buy for 
 me an inheritance undefiled, there where my beloved 
 and angel one is now rejoicing before his throne, how 
 could I bear the remembrance of those Christmas sea- 
 sons we spent together at Alton, so blessed in every 
 earthly happiness ? How could I support the recollec- 
 tion of last year's watching by him at Genoa ? The glad 
 tidings, mingled as they are with such thoughts, come 
 with a chastened and sober joy ; but it is such as is 
 most meet for the waiting Christian, who has yet to bear 
 the burden of sin, and is not yet permitted to taste fully 
 the glory that is to be revealed. Much as it has 
 been given me to feel of spiritual joy and love, doubt- 
 less to lighten that weight of earthly sorrow that would 
 otherwise have been too heavy for me to bear, I feel sure 
 the safest and surest state for one travelling along the 
 ordinary path of life, must be one of quiet and confiding 
 dependence on the Saviour's strength and simple obe- 
 dience to his will, whether of doing or suffering. I 
 asked earnestly for strength to be given to me for going 
 once more to Alton, which appeared almost impossible 
 
276 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 at the time : it was granted. From the time I besought 
 restoration of health to enable me to get here, which had 
 been delayed from week to week, it was given. I men- 
 tion these to strengthen your faith, which you say is 
 weak. Of course temporal gifts must be altogether- sub- 
 mitted to his fatherly knowledge and wisdom, but we 
 must not be afraid of making all our requests known to 
 such a Friend." 
 
 To the Same. 
 
 "Stoke, Jan. 29, 1835. * nave tm?s morning seen in 
 the paper that your house is become a house of mourn- 
 ing. I know none of the particulars attending your 
 affliction, and am therefore altogether ignorant of the 
 peculiar consolations or trials with which it is accom- 
 panied. But the loss to you of a parent, to your beloved 
 mother of a husband, is one of so serious a nature that, 
 with the feelings of a fellow-mourner, I cannot rest till I 
 have poured out to you something of that comfort with 
 which I have myself been comforted. I know indeed 
 most truly how powerless human comfort is : that there 
 is One alone who at such seasons can arise with healing 
 on his wings ; still the voice of a sister in sorrow, a 
 sister in Christian hope, cannot be unacceptable. You 
 will already have felt the exceeding mercy that allows 
 us in such heaviness of heart to go boldly to the throne 
 of grace ; you are, I doubt not, daily experiencing the 
 blessedness of that refuge from the storm provided for 
 us in Him who was made perfect through suffering, and 
 who, having been touched with our infirmities, knows . 
 so truly the weakness of his poor children, and how 
 utterly inefficient their own efforts would be, without his 
 strengthening grace. It is only, I am persuaded, by an 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 277 
 
 entire and full renunciation of our own wills, a child-like 
 submission to his loving though chastening hand, that 
 we can find peace and rest for our souls. And even if 
 all appears dead and gloomy, even though there may not 
 be that sensible comfort, that precious hope which is 
 sometimes vouchsafed to cheer and lighten our path of 
 sorrow, it is still the Lord that doth it, and most surely 
 will He do as seemeth unto Him good. Our views are 
 short-sighted and earthly and narrow; we see little 
 beyond our own little world of hopes and fears, but He 
 who is Lord of all knoweth all the breadth and length 
 and depth and height of wisdom and of love, and will 
 appoint all things for his glory. He can make all things 
 work together for good to those that love Him, and will 
 doubtless, by means of this trial of your faith, renew 
 your strength and lead you to a more steadfast and 
 abiding hope of glory. I have found the greatest com- 
 fort in those passages where we are exhorted not hence- 
 forward to live to ourselves, but for Him who died and 
 rose again ; by keeping ever in mind that we are not 
 our own, but bought with a price, and therefore all our 
 aim, our desire, our joy, should be to glorify God with 
 body and spirit, since they are God's, not ours." 
 
 Maria Hare ("The Green Book"). 
 
 "Feb. 18, 1835. Where, where does the spirit flee 
 when the earthly tabernacle is left vacant, and all that 
 was the living, the enduring part has departed? I 
 suppose it has been asked and sought vainly and un- 
 ceasingly since first the sorrowing mourner saw before 
 him the earthly form of what he loved as all that 
 remained, and still the mind will strive to follow the 
 heavenward flight, and wish and long to pierce the thick 
 
2^8 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 gloom. My Augustus, dearest! most beloved! how 
 could I have watched your last moments, heard the last 
 sigh and lived on, if the precious certainty had not been 
 mine that your blessed spirit had left me only to join its 
 God. This is truly a release, a release from the im- 
 prisonment of a frail and suffering shell, from the con- 
 tinual struggle of a renewed soul seeking to cast off sin 
 and be one with God, to the power of soaring up un- 
 fettered and purified to the presence of its Saviour, to 
 feel in all its reality how far better it is to be ' absent 
 from the body and present with the Lord.' To you, 
 time is done away, and one year is a measure empty of 
 meaning j to me, too, time is in one sense no longer 
 real. I cannot love you less, nor sorrow for you less, 
 nor feel less strongly the entire loneliness of this earth 
 in which I live, though years should be added to years. 
 But time is still to me a precious, a responsible gift ; it 
 is a talent to be used in a daily increasing conformity to 
 the mind of Him who hath bought me for his own, in a 
 continually renewed crucifixion of my own will and sub- 
 mission to his ; in an ever-growing desire and endeavor 
 to glorify my God j and if, through means of all the 
 suffering I must yet go through, and the long patience 
 with which I may yet have to wait before that blessed 
 time when 'Thy welcome call at last is given,' I am 
 called to minister to the spiritual wants of others, if I 
 may be strengthened to advance through much tribula- 
 tion to a higher degree of union with Christ, why should 
 my faint heart be discouraged or cast down, since I 
 know * my labor is not in vain j ' that ' he that endureth 
 to the end shall receive the crown of life ' ? 
 
 " Death is not the end but the beginning of life. On 
 this day my Augustus began his heavenly, his real life. 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 279 
 
 O gracious, merciful Father, make me Thy true child, 
 Thy faithful servant, as he was. Give me a firm and 
 lasting hope on the same Rock of salvation, and lead me 
 as my good and gracious Shepherd through the dark 
 valley as peacefully and gently as Thou hast led him, 
 and finally receive me also to Thyself. And oh, may I 
 lean ever on Thy guiding hand through the wilderness 
 of this world, that I may not fall, and that, be the 
 pressure of trouble and sorrow what it may, the presence 
 of my Lord and Saviour may ever enlighten and cheer 
 my darkness.'*" 
 
 Maria Hare (1834-36. Notes for Julius Hare's Life). 
 
 "At the close of 1834 and beginning of 1835, it 
 became evident to Julius that his beloved friend and 
 curate, Mr. Sterling, must give up his labors from ill- 
 health. He was therefore now for some months alone 
 in his work. His letters of this period show the in- 
 creased earnestness and diligence with which he followed 
 it. He was, however, frequently cast down by his deep 
 sense of his own insufficiency, and the worthlessness of 
 his ministrations amongst his people. His Cambridge 
 life had not fitted him for intercourse with the poor, and, 
 with the tenderest sympathy with their distresses, he 
 hardly as yet knew how to Soothe or elevate them by 
 higher thoughts, so that it was the saying of some whom 
 he visited, ' Mr. Hare is so kind, he looks so sorry, 
 but he does not say much.' It was reserved for his 
 people to teach him much of the simplicity of scriptural 
 truth. Especially was he taught by the heavenly-minded 
 Phillis Hoad, whose death gave rise to a funeral ser- 
 mon, one of. the most eloquent and impressive he ever 
 preached. At this time also he was engaged in arrang- 
 
280 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ing and revising for the press the sermons of his brother 
 Augustus, and the carefulness with which he carried out 
 this work brought with it its own reward, in giving him 
 a stimulus in adapting his own style to the wants of a 
 rural congregation. Although his thoughts could not 
 always be restrained within these limits, whatever in his 
 subsequent sermons was popular in style and familiar 
 in illustration may be in great measure traced to the 
 brotherly type he followed, and to which he ever ex- 
 pressed his obligation. It was in this year that he 
 preached his first visitation sermon on, ' Lo, I am with 
 you always, even unto the end of the world.' How dis- 
 trustful he felt in undertaking the office of preaching 
 before the clergy, how he dreaded it beforehand, and 
 how much encouragement he received from its effect, 
 may be seen from his account of it. It was at this 
 period that the new Poor Law came into operation, 
 and so much opposition was raised to it, that he felt 
 bound to do all he could to lighten its bondage and 
 restrain its hardships on the poor of his parish. Con- 
 sequently he became guardian of the Hailsham Union. 
 For hours would he sit each week on the appointed 
 day at the board, endeavoring to moderate or direct the 
 uncultivated and often illiberal men, with whom he had 
 to work. His pen was the one to write whatever state- 
 ments or petitions were required, and, with little knowl- 
 edge of details familiar to others, he, by refined feeling 
 and Christian piety, was often able to soften the severity 
 of the law. But, in spite of these exertions, and his 
 well-known tenderness of heart, such was the prejudice 
 against the change in the law, that all manner of evil 
 reports were circulated concerning him, amongst other 
 things he was accused of intending to send all the 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 28 1 
 
 children of the parish workhouse out in a boat, to be 
 sunk in Pevensey Bay ! 
 
 "But at length these foolish calumnies died away, 
 and a permanent influence remained with the farmers, 
 with whom his intercourse had then begun. In every 
 vestry and parish meeting he was also present to con- 
 trol and regulate the measures suggested. In spite of 
 the habitual unpunctuality and irregularity of his private 
 life, he never failed in his attendance at these public 
 meetings, whatever the annoyance or inconvenience 
 might be. 
 
 " Another mode in which he both served the parish 
 and learnt to know the wants of his people, at this time, 
 was by receiving every Sunday, after evening church, 
 the pence for the clothing club. However tired by the 
 services of the day, and by attendance at the boys' 
 school, hfc sate in the vestry surrounded by his parish- 
 ioners, entering their weekly subscriptions in a book, 
 and receiving their money. Often was this the oppor- 
 tunity for their pouring their distresses into his ear, and 
 seeking relief which was surely given. 'Ask, and ye 
 shall receive,' was truly fulfilled in him, an earthly 
 illustration to the higher form of loving answer to 
 prayer promised in those words." 
 
 Notes by Miss Miller (during a visit to Mrs. Hare 
 at Corsley.) 
 
 " Corsley, June 6, 1835. When in my whole life have 
 I spent such a happy day ? I wish I had strength and 
 time to mention every word and particular. After break- 
 fast, I walked with my Mrs. Hare in the fields, talking 
 of him we both loved, and of the many words and things 
 we both remembered his saying and doing while with 
 
282 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 us on earth. At two, I drove her in the pony-carriage 
 through much lovely scenery to Longleat. The exces- 
 sive heat tried her strength rather too much, but her 
 words I hope to remember through eternity. Beauti- 
 fully did she spiritualize all nature's striking objects, 
 remarking once when we entered a thick grove of trees, 
 which shaded us from the rays of the burning sun, 
 1 This, refreshing as it is, gives us but a very faint idea 
 of the shadow of that great Rock in a weary land.' 
 And again, 'We who live in a land so mercifully sup- 
 plied with water cannot fully enter into the figurative 
 Scripture language of "streams found in a desert," 
 of the invitation, " Ho, every one that thirsteth," as the 
 eastern nations may j but in a little time we shall know 
 the true meaning of the streams of the living water, and 
 the fountain, of life, where we shall drink of them and 
 never thirst again.' For my sake she kindly entered on 
 her own experience, desired to know my every thought, 
 my chief trials, my weakest points, to make her useful- 
 ness greater to me. She spoke of her own advantages, 
 natural and spiritual, with almost heavenly humility, at 
 the same time feeling that from her much would be re- 
 quired, because much had been bestowed. She referred 
 to her blessed time at Alton, believing that it was a 
 season of education for her soul, to fit her for future use- 
 fulness in God's vineyard ; and that the close union of 
 thought, interest, and pursuit with a mind of no common 
 mould, had given a premature maturity to her own, for 
 which she felt responsible to God, desiring to use it to 
 his glory. She remarked that after her return from Rome, 
 after having been for so many months deprived of earthly 
 Christian communion, when she again enjoyed it, it 
 almost seemed to unspiritualize her, so clearly and con- 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 283 
 
 stantly had her soul rested on God alone, while travel- 
 ling alone in her carriage with only Mary and her Bible. 
 I seem almost now to see the ascent where she so ten- 
 derly and lovingly advised me for my good, hoping the 
 joy I found in my visit would only accomplish the end 
 she had in view, the strengthening me for a more dili- 
 gent discharge of home duties, and not lead to any sin- 
 ful regrets at my separation from her. . . . 
 
 " Whit- Sunday, June 7. My heart seems too full to 
 write of this day, when I have parted from my friend. 
 ... At church we had the comfort of kneeling to- 
 gether at the blessed table, which my beloved Mrs. Hare 
 had not done in a church since the Sunday before she 
 left Alton for Rome. How very singular that Mrs. Mar- 
 cus Hare and I should again be with her. ... In the 
 evening, the hearts of those around me seemed to have 
 been touched by a ' live coal ' from off the morning's 
 altar ; and I cannot describe the rich spirituality of all 
 that was said, nearer akin to heavenly converse than 
 any thing I have before met with. Before tea, I had my 
 parting walk with dearest Mrs. Hare. She leant on my 
 arm, giving me the sweetest counsel with the most 
 Christian love ; and oh ! what a blessed union is this 
 Christian fellowship, thus uniting high and low in one 
 common bond, levelling all distinctions in regard to 
 acceptance with God, and yet maintaining, perhaps in- 
 creasing outwardly, the respect which one loves to give 
 to those whom God has placed in situations so much 
 above us, and endowed with attainments so far superior. 
 She talked of many at Alton, and of their three succes- 
 sive ministers. She then left me in the garden for a 
 time, and I went to her later in her room, where, with 
 many tears, I received a little book from her, and sev- 
 
284 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 eral books and letters for the Alton people. We then 
 knelt in prayer ; and she affectionately commended me 
 to God, and gave me her parting blessing." . . . 
 
 Maria Hare to Rev. F. Blackstone. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, July 21, 183 5. . . . I know Mrs. 
 Blackstone's motherly heart will be interested in hearing 
 that I have adopted one of Francis Hare's children, a 
 little Augustus, born at Rome a fortnight after our sep- 
 aration, and in another month I hope to have him under 
 my care, as I am sending out a nurse to fetch him from 
 Germany, whither his father escorts him." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux Rectory, August 26, 1835. My 
 own Luce will bless God who has given a little Au- 
 gustus to me, a dear little immortal creature to train 
 up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord ; and she 
 will, I know, pray that I may be enabled to look upon 
 it rather as a loan than a gift, and to be ready to 
 resign what is lent when He sees fit. At four o'clock 
 yesterday, the carriage wheels were heard, but Julius and 
 I listened, and all was silent, till a cry from upstairs 
 made me rush up. The heavy rain had wet them, and 
 they had crept up the backstairs. On going into the 
 room, there the baby sate on Mary's knee, with his frock 
 already off, smiling so winningly that, having expected 
 to be greeted by a cry at the sight of the strange face, 
 it was a great comfort to be met so cordially. ... As 
 soon as he was dressed I brought him down, and his 
 delight in seeing the pictures was very great. Then he 
 ran about the passage, and went into each room, look- 
 ing round with an air of observation which was most 
 
HURSTMONCEAUX RECTORY. 285 
 
 amusing. He cannot say many intelligible words. He 
 will take some trouble, I dare say, to get into obedient 
 ways, and require some firmness to break his growing 
 selfishness. He is much more companionable than 
 children of his age usually are, but dreadfully pas- 
 sionate." 
 
XIV. 
 
 THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 
 
 "Ah, if you knew what peace there is in an accepted 
 sorrow." Madame Guyon. 
 
 TUST one mile from Hurstmonceaux Rectory, 
 ** separated from it by a little wood and some swell- 
 ing corn-fields, in a still retirement, surrounded by 
 ancient trees and a bright garden, stood the pleasant 
 old-fashioned house of Lime. The place had once 
 been the site of a small monastic institution, of which 
 it bore trace in a series of large fish-ponds, which 
 occupied the hollow below its little lawn, and 
 through which a small brook found its way into 
 a copse carpeted with anemones and primroses in 
 spring. Another side of the garden was girt with 
 five lofty, jagged abele-trees, conspicuous from a 
 great distance, and known as " the Five Sisters of 
 Lime," beneath which ran a grass walk, from which 
 there was a wide view over the levels to the dis- 
 tant downs and sea. The principal rooms of the 
 house opened by large windows upon the sunny 
 garden with its brilliant flower-beds. 
 
 If England had been searched over, a house 
 could scarcely have been found more suited to my 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 287 
 
 dear mother than Lime, and to it she removed in 
 the second year of her residence at Hurstmonceaux. 
 
 Maria Hare to Miss Leycester. 
 
 "Lime, Hurstmonceaux, Oct. 20. I am now settling 
 in my new tent, pitched, I trust, in sure trust on the sup- 
 porting arm of Him whose power can alone hallow it to 
 his service ; and in the hope that, amidst outward lone- 
 liness, his glory will be in the midst of us, enabling us to 
 devote ourselves to Him. The first evening of my com- 
 ing here, when my little household assembled for the first 
 time, the words of Solomon in the dedication of his tem- 
 ple beseeching ' God's eyes to be open toward this house 
 day and night,' seemed to be specially applicable, and I 
 did earnestly pray that here ' his name may be.' * The 
 Lord is there ' is always to me a most comforting name 
 as applied to the spiritual Zion, the believer's heart, and 
 I trust in some degree it may be true of the little house- 
 hold church now begun here. You, who have no dread 
 of solitude, as so many have, will, I know, enter into the 
 exceeding comfort I feel after two years' wandering to 
 find myself in a home of my own, free to act and think 
 as I deem best, and permitted by my Heavenly Father 
 to have strength enough to go along the daily walk of 
 life with some little though at present but very little 
 ability to help others. 
 
 " The first arrival here, and seeing again so many 
 things which recalled Alton strongly before me, was very 
 overpowering ; but it was a gentle, not a bitter sorrow, a 
 peaceful and thankful consciousness that though he who 
 was the joy of my former life is now removed from sight, 
 he is still ever near in fellowship of the Spirit, and that 
 in following the path of his Master and mine I am still 
 
288 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 walking together with him. My sweet little baby Au- 
 gustus seemed as if sensible of all that I was feeling that 
 first evening, and clung to me and kissed me over and 
 over, as if to show his wish to comfort me. Truly, I am 
 most richly blest in the possession of this little treasure, 
 whose winning ways would cheer the saddest heart, and 
 in the affectionate kindness of Julius, who is also so 
 constant a subject of interest to me." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, Lime, Nov. 19, 1835. I cannot tell 
 you how perfect my life here is ; how it combines all I 
 could wish, and to exchange this quiet and peaceful life 
 for going into the world is a trial. However, I feel it 
 is not only right, but good ; the longer I continue ab- 
 stracted from the concerns of their world, the more intol- 
 erant I shall grow of the opinions and feelings of others, 
 the more exertion will it be to mix again in any society. 
 It is time I should live for others, not for myself, and learn 
 that most difficult lesson, to live above the world though in 
 it. Everywhere there will be my Master's work to do ; 
 there will be his glory to magnify by life and conversation ; 
 and all this preparation time will have been to little pur- 
 pose if it has not taught me in meekness and love to live 
 with those who feel differently." 
 
 Maria Hare's Note-Book (1836). 
 
 " One difference of the Jewish and Christian dispen- 
 sations lies in the visible and invisible manifestation of 
 God's dealings with men. In the spiritual childhood of 
 the world, outward signs were needed to make known 
 God's power and rule, the secret springs of the machin- 
 ery were displayed ; but when the fulness of time was 
 come, men were to walk no longer by sight, but by faith. 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 289 
 
 The same Providence watched over and appointed all 
 things ; but his children were to feel, not to see his hand. 
 So in the Hebrew Scriptures we find God's attributes 
 declared, and his interference in human affairs constantly 
 set forth. In the apostolic writings, the whole attention 
 is turned to our relation to God, and the principles and 
 duties that attach tb us as his children and servants. 
 And wisely is it so arranged ; for when a true faith has 
 once taken possession of the heart, all that unbelief of 
 spiritual agency, that reluctance to own any power above 
 our own that clings to the natural man, is melted away ; 
 and the believer in Christ cannot doubt the influence ex- 
 erted over all the events of his life by the providence of 
 God. 
 
 " It is not by texts it should be proved : it is by the 
 whole Bible itself ; its facts, its exhortations, its prom- 
 ises, are all idle mockery, if God has no more daily rule 
 over his creatures, and over the instruments He has made, 
 than the watchmaker over the watch that he has once 
 seta-going. It may be, though the universal laws of 
 nature are, in the common course of things, doubtless, 
 immutable, the particular application of those laws are 
 in God's power to turn as He wills. So Job expresses 
 the subjection of the lightnings to God's order, by that 
 poetical figure, ' Here we are ! ' But the moment we be- 
 gin to inquire, ' How can these things be ? ' How God 
 works through second causes ? ' we are lost in the maze. 
 Let us be- content to know that He who is truth hath 
 said, ' I the Lord do all these things,' ' My counsel shall 
 stand, and I will do all my pleasure,' * I have spoken, I 
 will also bring it to pass ; I have purposed it, I will also 
 do it.' So believing, let us adore and be thankful, well 
 assured that while we know so little as we do of earthly 
 13 3 
 
29O RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 matters, we could ill bear to know more of heavenly 
 ones." 
 
 " The exclusive spirit of the Evangelicals (so called) 
 and their common mode of speaking of others have 
 always been repugnant to me. Yet it is impossible for any 
 one whose spiritual being has been awakened not to be 
 conscious of the difference of feeling, the absence of 
 spiritual desires in another. The right course, I am 
 inclined to think, in accordance with the precept of 
 ' Judge not,' with the apostolic spirit, and with the char- 
 acter of our Church and all its offices, is, in general 
 society, to endeavor to treat all and speak of all who 
 profess themselves Christians as our brethren in one 
 hope j to strive against the natural shrinking from a 
 manifestation of principles that cannot be entered into ; 
 and in meekness and love to maintain in one's own 
 conduct and language the importance of heavenly above 
 earthly things, the value of the substance above the 
 shadow ; abstaining from all unnecessary condemnation 
 of others who may appear to act on any other motives. All 
 who belong to the visible Church of Christ should be 
 treated as members of that Church, and looked upon as 
 fellow-heirs of its privileges, and, as far as possible, 
 addressed on the same footing as children of one family, 
 except where an opening is made to speak to any one 
 personally and practically. Then the general union must 
 give way before' the individual difference, and the true 
 and home-searching appeal made, whether the name of 
 Christian be of outward or inward application ; whether 
 it is in the form or essence that God is worshipped ; 
 whether the faith in Christ be a living root or a dead 
 profession." 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 29 1 
 
 " One of the difficulties often brought forward in these 
 days is the difference existing between the language of 
 our Church in her offices, and that used by all serious 
 ministers : the one seeming to admit all into the privileges 
 of Christian hope who are outwardly received into the 
 Church ; the other, restricting those privileges to those 
 who by faith have truly embraced Christ as their Saviour. 
 May not the solution possibly be this : that the services 
 of the Church are designed for the use of all who pro- 
 fess and call themselves Christians ; that they are not 
 intended for purposes of reproof, exhortation, or instruc- 
 tion, but as a mode of communication between man and 
 God, in .which it is presupposed that all who do avail 
 themselves of such forms are what they profess to be. 
 The preacher of God's Word, on the other hand, has a 
 very different office to perform. His work is ' rightly to 
 divide the word of truth,' so that the threatenings, no 
 less than the promises of God, shall be made known, 
 and those who have the form without the power of godli- 
 ness shall be awakened out of their sleep, while those 
 who are reconciled to God through faith in Christ may 
 be encouraged and urged on to holiness of life. While 
 the Church offices have only to supply the wants of the 
 visible body of Christ, the preacher has to endeavor to 
 transform the visible into the invisible Church, and to 
 bring it from a nominal to a real union with its Head." 
 
 " Our will and God's are not by nature one. So long 
 as we are ignorant what God's will is, all seems well. 
 Our own will has its own way, and though that be often 
 a tyrannical way, there is no struggle against it, and 
 therefore all is smooth. But as the conscience becomes 
 more enlightened, as by degrees God's will is opened to 
 
292 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 us, by whatever means it may be, there arises an oppo- 
 sition to our own will that goes on increasing in strength 
 as we grow in the knowledge of God. It meets in its 
 progress with many a stumbling-stone, and so long as the 
 heart is proud and will not bend itself, so long as it 
 trusts to its own power of combating the evil within, 
 God will resist, i*- He will not help. The moment the 
 struggle has become so great as to make us cry loudly 
 to Him for help, the moment we come as little children 
 and ask for strength, his ear is open and his Spirit is 
 ready. Sometimes it may be that He waits like the man 
 at the door till we have called many times, that He may 
 be sure it is a cry of real earnestness ; but most surely 
 is the grace then given, and though the self-will is not 
 rooted out, though there it will be to the end, its reign is 
 over, and henceforward, though often rising up, it is kept 
 subordinate to God's will, and at one with it." 
 
 " When a soul has through grace been led to seek for 
 pardon through Christ, and has received the full assur- 
 ance of his love, it begins to hunger and thirst after 
 righteousness, and this leads to a diligent inquiry and 
 adoption of every means that may help in conforming 
 the mind to that of Christ. Sanctification then becomes 
 the one prevailing desire of the soul, and oftentimes it 
 may be that it engrosses the attention so exclusively that 
 the recollection of the justifying merits of Jesus are cast 
 into the shade. Then comes the tempter in his most 
 subtle form as an angel of light, leading the soul by 
 degrees into one of these two errors, either to build 
 its hope of favor with God on the change that has taken 
 place, and the sanctification which, however imperfect, is 
 still begun in itself ; or to a gradual distrust of salvation 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 293 
 
 through the want of those evidences of holiness which 
 it esteems needful to prove its title to God's acceptance, 
 and so to be continually cast down in doubt, fear, and 
 uncertainty." 
 
 " There is a great diversity of judgment as to the value 
 of outward acts of devotion and the need of public 
 means of grace. May not one cause of this difference 
 lie in the circumstances of life as well as in the peculiar 
 character of the individual ? When there are many dis- 
 tractions of thought in the daily life, many interruptions 
 to the serene and even course which alone is favorable 
 for communion with God, it is a blessed and a solem- 
 nizing help to fix the mind and make silence in the soul 
 when we can come into a sanctuary set apart for his 
 worship, where every association is of a holy nature, 
 where the voice and tone of the man of God calls us to 
 join in prayer and praise. He is an instrument in tuning 
 our hearts, which our new strength is insufficient to do 
 for itself. And the constraint imposed by an appointed 
 service, by fixed words, by the help of sound to the ear, 
 of all things consecrated to the eye, seems to lift up the 
 dead soul unto God, and take away the power of worldly 
 things which shut us out from His presence. 
 
 " In proportion, therefore, as there is difficulty in fixing 
 the attention, so is the public worship of God a great 
 blessing and comfort. 
 
 " On the other hand, when the ordinary habits of life 
 are retired and private ones, when the presence of the 
 Most High is realized in the silence of our own homes, 
 and when reading the word of God can be joined with 
 meditation and prayer, the want of this outward machin- 
 ery is not so much felt, rather it is at times perhaps an 
 
294 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 effort to conquer the distraction occasioned by having 
 the society of others around us. But then is it really 
 needed as truly as in other circumstances, to take us out 
 of self, and make us feel a fellowship of spirit with other 
 members of Christ." 
 
 " If it is contrary to truth when we say of a morning 
 the sun has risen, and of an evening the sun has set, 
 instead of saying the earth has revolved on her axis, 
 then, in the same sense, there is a contradiction to truth 
 in the expression in Joshua, the sun stood still. As absurd 
 as it would be to object to the common every-day expres- 
 sions of familiar life, because not in accordance with 
 philosophical accuracy, is the cavil at the statement of 
 the appearance presented by the miracle, instead of its 
 cause being brought forward. We indeed know from 
 science what is the cause of the appearance, and Joshua 
 did not; but the accuracy of the appearance, so far 
 from being thereby lessened, is rather increased, since 
 he related the plain and simple fact that was before his 
 eyes, without making deductions of his own that might 
 have been fallacious." 
 
 " The pantheist sees God only through all ; the mystic 
 acknowledges Him only in you all. To see Him above 
 all, through all, and in you all, as sovereign Lord of 
 heaven and earth, the true and living God, united to his 
 manifestation in his works, and his operation in our 
 hearts by the indwelling of his Spirit, this is a hard 
 matter to feel in all its fulness." 
 
 " A great love can see and own defects in the object 
 of its affections, and yet love on. 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 295 
 
 " A little love fears the truth and seeks to hide it." 
 
 " If we wish to compose a heaven of holy spirits and 
 lovely minds, let us take the ideal of all those we most 
 love and honor, and we can wish for nothing more per- 
 fect than such a fellowship would be. By the ideal, is 
 meant the graces and talents of mind and character 
 purified from all earthly dross and taint of sin. 
 
 "How beautiful must be the lives of the just made 
 perfect when thus clothed upon with Christ's righteous- 
 ness, and shining in the brightness of that light which 
 shall never be dimmed ! ' They shall be as the stars in 
 the firmament of God.' " 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 "Lime, April, 1836. Truly this is a sunny home. 
 There are quantities of wild flowers which you know the 
 delight of, and baby is so happy with them. ... In an 
 evening, when from weariness and pain I am unable to 
 read, I am sometimes tempted to forget that there is an 
 eye looking with compassion and tenderness, and an ear 
 ready to hear every complaint, so that I do feel the want 
 of that tender, pitying affection I once had; then, 
 perhaps, at that very moment, there will come in a 
 messenger from the rectory, with a beautiful verbena 
 plant, a fine balsam, or some other token that I have 
 still the affectionate attention of a dear brother to pre- 
 vent the outward blank from pressing too heavily, and to 
 melt me into tears at the thought of my own unworthi- 
 ness of such continued comforts. Then in my dear 
 child what is my comfort." 
 
2g6 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Julius Hare to Francis Hare. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, Dec. 26, 1837. . . . Neander, 
 I see, has been publishing a Life of Christ. This will 
 be the completest answer to Strauss; who, from his 
 polemical replies, seems to be a very vulgar-minded, 
 though hard-headed master of abuse, a man of intoler- 
 able self-conceit, and deluded by an idea which he had 
 taken from Hegel, and does not understand. Nothing 
 can be more fallacious than his fundamental principle, 
 that every thing must be progressive. In whatever is at 
 all akin to inspiration, it is just the contrary, as Homer, 
 Dante, Shakespeare, Raphael, Phidias, show." 
 
 My mother's chief interest in 1837 lay in the 
 promotion of her brother-in-law, Edward Stanley, 
 to the see of Norwich, and the removal of his 
 family to the scene of his future labors. The 
 unusual degree of sympathy and affection which 
 always existed between her and her sister caused 
 her to watch with eagerness for every minute 
 detail of the new life upon which the Stanleys 
 were entering, with its manifold duties and occu- 
 pations. During her frequent visits at the palace, 
 while regretting the rectory and beechwoods of 
 Alderley, she found fresh sources of enjoyment in 
 the picturesque and architectural characteristics of 
 Norwich. 
 
 Maria Hare's Note-Book. 
 
 " The nearest approach we usually make to thankful- 
 ness is to feel that we ought to be thankful, and to 
 mourn in not being so. The active, upward-springing 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 297 
 
 language of praise is but seldom able to break through 
 the bonds of weakness and earthly-mindedness, and the 
 burden of sin with which we are too often weighed 
 down. To rejoice in having our wills crossed, in being 
 conformed to His likeness through suffering, is a hard 
 attainment; and yet perhaps true thankfulness oftener 
 arises under outward privation . than when loaded with 
 what seem to our eyes the greatest benefits. Our nature 
 seems more especially to show its root of selfish and 
 ungodly desires in the midst of God's bounty. The 
 moment we are laid low by his chastening hand, our 
 true relation to Him, and debt of love, is brought home 
 to our hearts in the sense of our nothingness and of his 
 power and mercy." 
 
 " To the spiritually minded, time and place are not. 
 The Word of God is therefore, when spiritually appre- 
 hended, no history of successive generations having 
 reference to various countries and divers persons ; it 
 becomes a living present whole, a picture of the deal- 
 ings of God with man, of the great contest between 
 good and evil, of the victory over evil by Christ dwell- 
 ing in the soul, and holding communion with God." 
 
 "(July 7.) Is it possible that the wicked, when 
 they leave this world, will love God ? The thought is a 
 strange one, but it has occurred to me from feeling that 
 sin in myself or others is the only real misery, and that, 
 without a love for God, it would not be misery thus to be 
 separated from Him. If then hell, or, in other words, 
 misery and suffering, is hereafter, as it doubtless is, only 
 in a far greater degree than it can be here, the conscious 
 separation from God by sin, must not there be in the 
 13* 
 
298 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 spirits of the departed wicked some love for God, some 
 desire to live in the brightness of his countenance, 
 instead of under its gloom, to create such a sense of 
 wretchedness ? Or is it that, on leaving the body, such 
 spirits are brought to a consciousness of life proceeding 
 from God, such as is effected here in the regenerate, 
 while the door is shut of reconciliation and restoration 
 to holiness through Christ, and the life becomes one, 
 not of harmony, but of eternal and conscious discord. 
 How unfathomable is the mystery of the possibility of 
 evil being in any way even in the remotest degree 
 associated with God ! and yet some link there must be 
 between Him and the ungodly, or there would not be 
 the exceeding painfulness of the separation." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 "Palace, Norwich, Dec. 8, 1838. The great interest 
 of this place is the cathedral. It is quite close to the 
 palace, and from my room I distinctly hear the roll of 
 the organ twice every day. I never enjoyed a cathedral 
 before. Here it is like a friend, a companion, and its 
 exceeding beauty grows on one. Had I strength, I 
 would attend the service daily, for it seems quite to lift 
 one out of the world. There is something most impres- 
 sive in hearing, in the dusk of twilight, the beautiful 
 music swelling through that lofty and magnificent temple 
 to the glory of God. I feel, too, as if even the absence 
 of any congregation made it more touching and solemn, 
 to think that, day by day, those most harmonious and 
 beautiful songs of praise are resounding in the ear of 
 God alone. His presence seems truly to dwell in this 
 his house, and his glory to fill the temple." 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 299 
 
 Maria Hare's Note-Book (1839). 
 
 "May 26. We find in the Bible a number of 
 doctrines and precepts, parts of one whole system of 
 truth, but which, when separated one from another, and 
 looked at singly, appear sometimes at first sight to 
 oppose each other. Where shall we meet with the key- 
 note to bring all into harmony, to reconcile the apparent 
 jar, to make the full and perfect chord of unison? It 
 is to be found only in the contrite and humble spirit 
 When by the life-giving Spirit of God the inward spirit 
 of man is taught its true relation to God, when the heart 
 yields itself in lowly submission to the dominion of Him 
 who has bought it for his own, and the rebellion and 
 stiff-neckedness whereby it is prone to reject this King 
 to reign over it is overthrown, and a loving obedience 
 takes its place, then, and then only, do all the differing 
 notes and tunes of God's voice meet together, and utter 
 one full and rich sound of harmony and beauty, the 
 fuller and richer because combined of so many varying 
 parts. 
 
 " The soul convinced of sin, yearning after a Saviour, 
 hungering after righteousness and true holiness, finds no 
 contradictions in God's Word, the expression of its 
 wants and the answer to them is already prepared ; and 
 though the understanding would vainly endeavor to 
 explain the mystery of God's free grace with man's free 
 will, the meek and lowly heart finds rest in the sure 
 consciousness that it is God that is working in it, and 
 that He will go on with his work till it be finished ; that 
 man must receive the Saviour if he would have power to 
 become a son of God, and yet it is only through the 
 drawing of the Father that he is enabled to come to 
 Jesus to have life. He needs no reasoning to prove 
 
300 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 how works grow out of faith, and not faith from works, 
 he knows and feels that the principle of life must exist 
 before a man can move or act, and that when that life 
 is awakened motion and action must follow. 
 
 " June 2 (' The Green Book '). The tenth anniver- 
 sary of my most blessed marriage is come : the day 
 which witnessed my union with one who is entered 
 beyond the veil, and for a time is hidden from my eyes. 
 The earthly union is dissolved, but the heavenly one, I 
 trust and believe, is far closer than in the first days of 
 our married life ; and I would fain hope that as mem- 
 bers of the same body, adoring the same Head, knit 
 together in the same fellowship of the Holy Ghost, my 
 beloved Augustus and I are still joining together daily 
 and hourly in drinking of the same Spirit, and being 
 one, even as the Father and the Son are one. . . . 
 When I look back I feel that the one feature in his 
 character that so peculiarly marked the Spirit of God as 
 dwelling in him was Iove> a love never wearied in 
 well doing or in thinking well of others, perceiving 
 the smallest spark of good, and yet through this his 
 heavenly glass of love not deceived by a false standard 
 or delusive desire to count evil as good, but seeing 
 truly and discerning clearly what was of God and what 
 of man. 
 
 " While the link to heaven is drawn close, that to 
 earth is still unbroken. In the wealth of God's love to 
 me his poor servant, while he has taken away that which 
 held me too fast bound to the creature, He has given 
 anew all that it is possible for me rightly to enjoy, and 
 made the earnest desire of my heart to long after that 
 which would be to the praise of his glory. . . . ' Lord, 
 teach me right judgment and knowledge \ ' this is my 
 
THE SILVER LINING OF THE CLOUD. 3OI 
 
 constant prayer. I know not how to guide my house- 
 hold aright, how to train up my child in the way he 
 should go, how to draw my dearest Julius nearer in 
 fellowship of spirit with his God and mine. Let this 
 threefold duty be made plain to me, so plain that I may 
 not err in it ; and whatever may be the cost, oh may the 
 Spirit of Jesus reign in me till every selfish aim and 
 purpose is rooted out, every unkind and severe judgment, 
 every unloving thought, displaced, and perfect love and 
 perfect purity wrought in my heart." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 "Stoke, Dec. 31, 1839. On Christmas Day, Julewas 
 engaged in consecrating our own Augustus's school-room 
 at Hurstmonceaux (built with the profits of his sermons) 
 to Him whose birthday it was. On the afternoon of 
 Christmas Day, when there is usually no service in 
 church, he had service there ; and after a preface of his 
 own to explain the purpose of the room, and who, 
 through his book, had enabled us to build it, he read 
 1 the Angel's Text ' as the best dedication to the glory 
 of God in the highest, and to the end of peace and 
 good-will among men. I never could have borne the 
 way in which Jule spoke of Augustus and his interest in 
 Hurstmonceaux, and how his sermons would have made 
 them love him, had he ever preached to them, otherwise 
 I should have longed to be there." 
 
 Maria Hare to Mrs. R. Pile. 
 
 11 April 24, 1840. My little Augustus is overjoyed 
 to get back again, and we are now once more in our 
 peaceful home, where he is the happiest of the happy 
 with all the wild flowers that carpet our fields and 
 
 \ 
 
302 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 hedges, and his own little garden and rabbits. My 
 brother Julius has been made Archdeacon of Lewes by 
 the Bishop of Chichester. It is an appointment that 
 suits him well, as it will not take him away from Hurst- 
 monceaux, and will yet give him an interest and in- 
 fluence over his brother clergy, that will benefit both 
 him and them. We have now regular evening service, 
 and a lecture in the new school-room, which the last 
 edition of the ' Alton Sermons ' has enabled me to build. 
 Here many old persons who have not been able to get 
 to church for years are able to come, and Julius talks to 
 them so familiarly, it reminds me more of Alton than 
 any thing else since I left it." 
 
XV. 
 
 HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 
 
 m Rejoice, oh grieving heart, 
 The hours fly past ; 
 With each some sorrow dies, 
 With each some shadow flies, 
 
 Until at last 
 The red dawn in the east 
 Bids weary night depart, 
 And pain is past." 
 
 Adelaide Procter. 
 
 r I ^HE garden at Lime was really a very small 
 -* one, but it was wonderfully varied, and to its 
 widowed owner it was a source of ever-fresh happi- 
 ness, while to her child its delights were inexhaust- 
 ible. Every variety of flower seemed to have an 
 especial luxury in blooming in its many little beds 
 and baskets j and the steep grass bank, which 
 sloped away from the lawn to the large transparent 
 fish-ponds of the old monastery, was a scene of en- 
 chantment in spring from the myriads of wild flow- 
 ers with which it was covered, daffodils, orchis, 
 lady's-smock, and bluebells, but, above all, from a 
 perfect glory of primroses, and these of every shade 
 of crimson and pink, besides the ordinary yellow 
 ones, their ancestors .having probably been planted 
 in former times, though they now grew luxuriantly 
 wild. 
 
304 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 And every corner of this garden, in which we 
 led an almost solitary life for so many years, is 
 filled with the memory of my dearest mother's 
 sweet presence. It was our earthly Eden. How 
 often I recollect her sitting in the sparkling morn- 
 ing of a hot summer's day, at breakfast in the 
 cool house shadow outside the little drawing-room 
 window, where the air was laden with the fresh 
 scent of the dewy pinks and syringa; how often 
 meditating in the green alley which separated our 
 garden from the wheat-field, and which she called 
 her " Prayer-walk ; " how often, in feebler and sad- 
 der days, pacing to and fro in the path at the top 
 of the kitchen garden, exposed to the sun, and 
 sheltered from the winter wind by a thick wall of 
 holm-beech, which ended at a summer-house, the 
 scene of many happy children's feasts, hung round 
 with old stag-horns which were relics of the castle 
 deer-park. 
 
 During the early years of her life at Lime my 
 dearest mother seemed to live so completely in 
 heaven that all outward times and seasons were so 
 many additional links between it and her. Spring 
 came to her as the especial season of the Resurrec- 
 tion, and in the up-springing of each leaf and 
 flower she rejoiced as typical of the rising again of 
 all her loved and lost ones ; summer was the time 
 in which chiefly to dwell upon the abundance of 
 God's mercies, the fulness of his gifts ; the golden 
 fields of Hurstmonceaux in the harvest were to her 
 the image of that great harvest-field in which the 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. $0$ 
 
 reapers are the angels ; she loved to walk in the 
 hop-gardens, and amid those Sussex vines to dwell 
 upon the allusions to the Vine and its branches, 
 especially precious to her as linking each humblest 
 Christian so closely, as of the same plant, to the 
 great Head of the Church ; Christmas brought real 
 heart-rejoicing in all its sacred associations. But 
 most of all, as most to one to whom the future was 
 the real life, the present only the waiting-time, did 
 my mother rejoice in Easter. Then her inward 
 spiritual life seemed to overflow. Day by day 
 through her silent week, the " Stille Woche," 
 which was so real to her, she lived with and fol- 
 lowed through each scene of Bethany, Gethsemane, 
 and Calvary ; shutting out the whole world, her 
 spirit, following the sufferings of Christ, dwelt 
 apart with God ; in the moon glittering through 
 the hazels upon the silver riplets of our beautiful 
 pond she seemed to see the paschal moon which 
 rose over Olivet. And when the Easter really 
 came, then her heart rose upwards and lived afresh 
 with her risen and living Saviour, and, with her 
 inmost being poured out in praise, she fell at his 
 feet like Mary, and with her whole soul she em- 
 braced Christ. 
 
 No Christian season was a name to her, all 
 were burning, glowing realities. And, through the 
 whole of her course, from childhood to old age and 
 infirmities, the key-note of her life, the mainspring 
 of her every act, was love, love to God, love to 
 God's poor, love to her family, love, which by the 
 
306 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 rubs and pressure of the world was never ruffled, 
 because no injury could irritate her, who had al- 
 ways forgiven beforehand, and who always thought 
 all others better, so much better, than herself. 
 
 The other prominent figure in the home recol- 
 lections of my childhood is my uncle Julius, the 
 gaunt figure, with a countenance generally stern 
 and engrossed, but capable of as much variation as 
 a winter sky, and sometimes breaking into the most 
 noble enthusiasm, into the most joyous animation, 
 or into bursts of the most unspeakable tenderness. 
 It was to my mother that all the bright and loving 
 side of his nature especially revealed itself. To 
 her, whom all loved, my uncle was radiant with 
 the most tender devotion. He entered into all her 
 feelings, he consulted her on all his plans, he laid 
 open to her all his thoughts ; with her alone he 
 was never cold, never harsh, with her and with 
 the poor, for to the poor he was always as gentle 
 as he was generous. In the summer the Marcus 
 Hares generally passed several months at Hurst- 
 monceaux Rectory, when we also lived there ; but 
 at other times my uncle appeared regularly between 
 five and six every evening, and dined with my 
 mother, sitting with her afterwards to talk, gen- 
 erally of parish matters ; often, after his elevation 
 to the archdeaconry of Lewes, about clerical 
 affairs ; at one time, much about his new version 
 of the Psalms, which, for the most part, they 
 arranged together. In the affectionate care of 
 Julius, and still more in her cares for him, my 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 307 
 
 mother found her chief link with her past life. If 
 on any day he missed coming, that day was a blank 
 to her, and in the mornings she would frequently 
 go up to the high field between Lime and the Rec- 
 tory, which was then just within the limit of her 
 walk, in order that from thence she might catch a 
 glimpse of his tall figure as he paced up and down 
 between the oaks which fringed the rectory garden. 
 Every Sunday morning also my uncle never 
 failed to come to Lime that he might drive my 
 mother to church, discussing his sermon or the 
 many parish interests, as they slowly ascended the 
 hill on which the church stands, seeing the familiar 
 figures of the well-known country people, the men 
 in their smock-frocks, climbing the steep path above 
 the road, and receiving their affectionate greetings. 
 In the hill-top position of his church, my uncle 
 never ceased to rejoice. He spoke of it in one of 
 his sermons : 
 
 "Precious is the blessing which we enjoy, in having 
 the Lord's house amid our dwellings, set up on high, 
 that all may see it, with its spire ever pointing to heaven n 
 to remind us, whenever it meets our eyes, how our hearts 
 also ought always to be pointing thither, with the same 
 quiet, steadfast, unchanging, immovable calmness. If 
 the situation of our church is in many respects inconven- 
 ient, at all events it has this advantage, that it stands 
 upon a hill, so as to be clearly seen afar off j and many 
 a time, I think, when the sky has been overcast with 
 driving clouds, and every thing else looked gloomy, you 
 must have observed a pure, still light resting upon it, 
 
308 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 betokening the light which, amid all the clouds and 
 storms of the world, rests on a heaven-pointing spirit."* 
 
 In the Sunday afternoons my mother would take 
 her Testament, and find some sheltered seat in 
 Lime Wood, and there she loved to teach her child, 
 who always felt that no number of church services 
 could do him so much good as one Sunday after- 
 noon spent thus with her who " sweetly instructed 
 him down in his heart." 
 
 It was from the Rectory that my mother derived 
 almost all the society she still consented to see. 
 Sedgwick, Landor, Whewell, Worsley, Bunsen, and 
 Thirlwall, were frequent guests there, and one or 
 other often accompanied my uncle in his daily 
 visits to Lime. In that little home itself there 
 were few guests, occasionally the Stanleys, Miss 
 Clinton, Mr. and Mrs. Pile, but the circle was sel- 
 dom increased. 
 
 In the first years of her widowhood, in her 
 autumn journeys to Shropshire, my mother had 
 several times turned aside to the village of Bub- 
 nell, near Leamington, to visit Frederick Maurice, 
 a former pupil of her brother Julius, who was then 
 officiating there as curate. With him lived his 
 sister Priscilla, the most remarkable of the eight 
 daughters of Michael Maurice, a Unitarian min- 
 ister at Frenchay, near Bristol, and a man of 
 mark in his own community. 
 
 Though very feeble, Priscilla Maurice had not at 
 
 * Parish Sermon, " The Duty of Building the Lord's House." 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 309 
 
 this time fallen into the serious ill-health which for 
 so many of the later years of her life confined her 
 entirely to her bed, and she passed a part of every 
 summer at Lime, and was much beloved there. 
 In 1842 she begged to bring with her and to in- 
 troduce to her friend her younger sister Esther, 
 for whom she was anxious to obtain the relaxa- 
 tion of country air and quiet, as she was at that 
 time laboriously employed with another sister in 
 teaching a school at Reading. During this visit 
 was laid the foundation of a friendship which 
 ended, in 1844, in the marriage of Esther Maurice 
 with my uncle Julius, a marriage which naturally 
 brought with it a great change in my mother's 
 home life, but which she welcomed gladly at the 
 time as conferring the blessing she most desired 
 for her brother-in-law, and which she never for a 
 moment regretted, though the close juxtaposition 
 into which they were thrown made the differences 
 of character and feeling, induced by early circum- 
 stances and associations, more apparent as years 
 went on. 
 
 In 1842, it came to my mother as a great happi- 
 ness that the Bunsens fixed their residence for a 
 time in the old family home of Hurstmonceaux 
 Place. Their society gave quite a new zest and 
 freshness to all her intellectual pursuits, especially 
 to the German authors in whom she was inter- 
 ested, and in the daughters of that loving family 
 circle she found joyful helpers in all her parish 
 work. But in 1844 the distance from London, 
 
3IO RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 which was great in those non-railroad days, obliged 
 Bunsen to leave Hurstmonceaux, and to bring to 
 end a period which he looked upon as one of the 
 happiest portions of his life.* 
 
 During these years, as her health became 
 stronger, my mother was able to devote herself 
 more fully to work amongst the poor, and two 
 or three times in a week spent the afternoon at 
 Foul-Mile, a neglected hamlet in a distant corner of 
 the parish. The tenderness of her ministrations 
 among them is commemorated in the dedication 
 of Julius Hare's Parish Sermons, " To her who 
 was the blessing of my beloved brother Augustus 
 during the years of his wedded life, and whose 
 love for the poor of my parish, since she became 
 a widow, has been their blessing and mine." 
 
 There was that in my mother's parish visits 
 which will never be forgotten at Hurstmonceaux. 
 It was that she never came merely to read and to 
 lecture and to distribute tracts, but that she brought 
 with her a heart brimming with loving sympathy 
 to enter into all the troubles of the cottagers, to 
 advise and help them when she could, in their 
 worldly as well as their spiritual concerns, and in 
 all to feel for, if not with them. And thus many 
 an aching heart in the villages of Lime Cross and 
 Gardner Street, which were within half-a-mile dis- 
 tant, turned to the old house with the tall clustered 
 chimneys and bright garden, in the glad assurance 
 that it contained one who was no cold and distant 
 
 * "Memoirs of Baron Bunsen," ii. 45. 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 311 
 
 mistress, but the warm-hearted sharer of all their 
 joys and sorrows, and with the certainty that no 
 case of wrong was too trifling, no perplexity too 
 simple, to obtain a willing and patient hearing from 
 her whom they were wont to call "the Lady o' 
 Lime." 
 
 Each morning, as soon as breakfast was over, 
 would see my mother cross her high field with its 
 wide view over level and sea, and then follow the 
 oak-fringed lane to the girls' school, where she 
 taught the children, always gladly welcomed by 
 them from the interest she contrived to throw into 
 the most ordinary lesson, often enlivening her in- 
 structions with stories of things she had seen or 
 read of, or simple facts of natural history. Each 
 village girl saw in her one who was as necessary a 
 part of her home as the members of her own fam- 
 ily, one to whom all her family relationships and 
 domestic concerns were familiar, and who cared for 
 each individually. When any were sick or sorry 
 it was their u Lady " they wished to see ; if any 
 prosperity befell them, they hastened to tell her of 
 it ; and, at their little festivals, especially that of 
 the first of May, nothing was considered complete 
 unless their dear " Lady " was there, sitting under 
 the laburnum trees, in the little school-court, en- 
 joying all with them. 
 
 But the wealth of the great love which was so 
 abundant for others was most of all poured out for 
 the child of her adoption, who was scarcely ever 
 separated from her, whom she made ufter a fashion 
 
312 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 a sharer in all her thoughts, and a companion in all 
 her pursuits, for whom she tried to draw a lesson 
 out of every thing in nature, and who found, even 
 in childhood, every hour too short, which was 
 passed in the perpetual sunshine of her dear 
 presence. 
 
 In the summer of 1842, while the whole family 
 were collected at Hurstmonceaux Rectory, the 
 news of Dr. Arnold's sudden death came with an 
 inexpressible shock, M seeming," said one of the 
 circle, " as if it were almost a law of Providence 
 that, when to all human eyes the greatest good is 
 to be done, the person is taken away ; bringing 
 home the vainness of all human speculation, the 
 crushing of human judgment, and how we call 
 evil good, and good evil." Sympathy with Mrs. 
 Arnold, however, overpowered every other sensation, 
 and the first relief came from the thought of her 
 at Foxhow, surrounded with the remembrance of 
 him, together with those who loved and valued 
 him. 
 
 " In an idolatrous age," wrote Julius Hare, " one of 
 the men we most need is an idoloclast, to use the word 
 which Coleridge, in his 'Tombless Epitaph,' applies to 
 his ideal self. Such indeed there ever will be, some 
 frivolous, some reckless ; but the idoloclasts whom we 
 need, and who alone will do their work effectually and 
 beneficially, are such as are at once zealous and fearless 
 in demolishing the reigning idols, and at the same time 
 animated with a reverent love for the ideas which those 
 idols carnalize and stifle. Such an idoloclast we had 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 313 
 
 in Dr. Arnold, a dauntless lover of truth, in the midst of 
 an age when few seek or care for any truth, except such as 
 seems to pamper their already bloated predilections and 
 prepossessions. From his unshakable trust in the God 
 of Truth, under the assurance that God is Truth, and 
 that Truth can never be against God, he boldly pursued 
 it at all risks, in the spirit of the sublime prayer, ev 8s 
 cpuei xai oleaaov. For he knew that, though he might 
 perish, God would live ; though he might fall, God would 
 triumph ; and he felt confident that every time Truth is 
 purged with a careful and loving hand from the defile- 
 ments wherewith the exhalations of the world are con- 
 tinually crusting her over, her form and features will 
 come out in greater beauty and glory. ... I do not mean 
 to profess an entire agreement with all his opinions : on 
 many points we differed, more or less ; but whether dif- 
 fering or agreeing, when I turn from the ordinary theo- 
 logical or religious writers of the day to one of his 
 volumes, there is a feeling, as it were, of breathing the 
 fresh mountain air, after having been shut up in the 
 morbid atmosphere of a sick-room, or in the fumigated 
 vapors of an Italian church. He did indeed yearn after 
 truth and righteousness, with yearnings that could hardly 
 be uttered ; and to hear of falsehood, to hear of injus- 
 tice, pained him like a blow. Therefore is his death felt 
 almost like a personal, as well as national loss, from one 
 end of England to the other. His yearnings now, we 
 may trust, through the Saviour whom he delighted to 
 glorify, are stilled with the contemplation of perfect 
 Truth and perfect Righteousness. Oh that his example 
 and his teaching may arouse others to a like zeal in the 
 same most holy cause ! " * 
 
 * J. C. Hare's preface to vol. iii. of Arnold's " History of Rome." 
 14 
 
314 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 In these years of 1841 to 1843 my mother con- 
 stantly committed her meditations to paper. Ex- 
 tracts from these may not perhaps be superfluous, 
 as assisting to give a picture of her mind at this 
 time. 
 
 "Jan. 12, 1841. I suspect it is a mistake to sup- 
 pose that the Parables are an easy form of conveying 
 divine truth, and suited to beginners in religious knowl- 
 edge. Our Lord Himself seems to assign as a reason for 
 using them that the meaning was to be hidden from the 
 multitude, and only revealed to his chosen few whose 
 hearts had been prepared for receiving this seed, and to 
 whom He could therefore develop its full fruit. And 
 experience seems to confirm the truth of his practice. 
 To children and to the poor I doubt whether the Para- 
 bles afford much of interest. The outward form is not 
 of sufficient interest in itself to excite much lively feel- 
 ing, and it is only when that which it represents is present 
 to the mind that it assumes importance. This as a living, 
 self-apprehending truth can only be to those who are in 
 some measure advanced in spiritual discernment. To the 
 natural mind any thing of personal character or histori- 
 cal narration has much more power of laying hold of the 
 mind and becoming a guide to the knowledge of God's 
 will. And when we see the exceeding tendency of the 
 young to imitation, example is pointed out as the chief 
 and most efficient mode of instruction before abstract 
 truths can be brought home to their comprehension." 
 
 "Feb. 20, 1841. When we are fullest of heavenly 
 love we are best fitted to bear with human infirmity, to 
 live above it and forget its burden. It is the absence of 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 315 
 
 love to Christ, not its fulness, that makes us so impa- 
 tient of the weaknesses and inconsistencies of our Chris- 
 tian brethren. Then when Christ is all our portion, 
 when He dwells with us and in us, we have so satisfying 
 an enjoyment of his perfection, that the imperfection of 
 others is as it were swallowed up, and the sense of our 
 own nothingness makes us insensible to that which is 
 irritating to individual feelings and habits. 
 
 " So too it is with human affection. When it is at its 
 height we can bear with the absence of the person be- 
 loved best, whereas in proportion as self mingles its 
 depreciating quality in the love bestowed on another, 
 we are fretted by the want of the object and feel the 
 pressure of the separation the most severely." 
 
 11 April 23, 1841. When through the medium of old 
 letters or any other means, a picture is placed before one 
 of one's former self, there is a strange mixture of feel- 
 ing, the identity being still preserved, while there is so 
 much of change and difference as to make it seem al- 
 most another person : so, only in a far greater degree, 
 may we suppose that hereafter, when we look back on 
 our existence here, we shall see our past and present 
 self as being one and yet separate. If a few years can 
 so transform the character as to give it new features and 
 teach us to see the old ones in their true light, and judge 
 of them as if they- belonged to another, what will be the 
 change when not Time alone helps us to this clear vis- 
 ion, but when a complete alteration of state, an entrance 
 into regions of perfect light, gives us power to see with 
 new eyes and discern things now hidden from our con- 
 sciousness? When in God's light we see light, when 
 this body of sin is cast off, and our self is swallowed up 
 
316 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 in Christ, our earthly garments exchanged for his right- 
 eousness, then shall we look on our past life, and learn 
 to give glory to God for all his wonderful works to the 
 children of men." 
 
 " The praises of others may be of use in teaching us, 
 not what we are, but what we ought to be." 
 
 " Self-depreciation is not humility, though often mis- 
 taken for it. Its source is oftener mortified pride." 
 
 " The bulk of mankind feel the reality of this world, 
 but have little or no feeling for the reality of the next 
 world. They who, through affliction or some other 
 special cause, have had their hearts withdrawn from the 
 world for a while, and been living in closer communion 
 with God, will sometimes almost cease to feel the reality 
 of this world, and will live mainly in the next. The 
 grand difficulty is to feel the reality of both, so as to 
 give each its due place in our thoughts and feelings, to 
 keep our mind's eye and our heart's eye ever fixed on 
 the Land of Promise, without looking away from the 
 road along which we are to travel towards it." 
 
 " How hard it seems to be to human nature in relig- 
 ious worship to preserve a due reverence for forms and 
 not to turn it into formality ; in other words, to value 
 the means God gives as a help to our weakness, without 
 falling down and worshipping them. Idolatry is still as 
 ever the ruling tendency of the mind, and when the idol 
 is dressed up in a semblance of truth, its worshippers 
 are not easily undeceived, and fancy their worship has 
 the perfection that all others lack. 
 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 317 
 
 " Christ says, ' He that is not against us is for us.' 
 In these days there is another doctrine taught, ' He 
 that follows not with us with all that we hold as nec- 
 essary with all that we think expedient, he must be 
 against us.' The middle wall of partition is, alas ! not 
 done away. It still separates Christian from Christian, 
 even those who have been taught through the same 
 Spirit to find access unto the Father." 
 
 " To judge of Christianity from the lives of ordinary, 
 nominal Christians, is about as just as it would be to 
 judge of tropical fruits and flowers from the produce 
 which the same plants might bring forth in Iceland." 
 
 " It is very common to mistake emotion for feeling, 
 excitement caused by outward things for inward devo- 
 tion. If the power of the Spirit were within the heart to 
 move and touch it, there would be less need of external 
 means to affect the senses and imagination. Are we 
 not then to have recourse to outward helps ? Yes, but 
 only in such a degree as to keep in subordination the 
 natural love of what is visible and sensual, and so as not 
 to lose the consciousness of our need of internal im- 
 pulses to be kindled by the Spirit of God. It is neither 
 images, pictures, nor churches, but it is ' the Spirit that 
 helpeth our infirmities ' and 'teaches us how to pray.' " 
 
 " I saw two oaks standing side by side. The one 
 was already clothed in tender green leaves ; the other 
 was still in its wintry bareness, showing few signs of re- 
 viving life. Whence arose this ? The influences of sun 
 and air and sky must have been the same on both trees ; 
 their nearness seemed to bespeak a like soil ; no out- 
 
3l8 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ward cause was apparent to account for the difference. 
 It must therefore have been something within, something 
 in their internal structure and organization. But wait 
 awhile : in a month or two both the trees will perhaps 
 be equally rich in their summer foliage ; nay, that which 
 is slowest in unfolding its leaves may then be the most 
 vigorous and luxuriant. 
 
 " So it is often with children in the same family, 
 brought up under the same influences : while one grows 
 and advances daily under them, another may seem to 
 stand still. But after a time there is a change ; and he 
 that was last may even become first, and the first last. 
 
 "So too it is with God's spiritual children. Not ac- 
 cording to outward calculations, but after the working of 
 his grace, is their outward life manifested: often the 
 hidden growth is unseen till the season is far advanced, 
 and then it bursts forth in double beauty and power." 
 
 " When the love of God has taken possession of the 
 soul, and the whole man is consecrated to his service, 
 life loses its fragmentary character, and one guiding 
 stream seems to run through it. Then all varying and 
 apparently disjointed circumstances and duties find a 
 fixed and appointed place, and though, through the 
 weakness of the flesh, the surface of things may seem to 
 be ruffled, there is a strong undercurrent that cannot be 
 diverted from its object, but is ever flowing on to its one 
 point, widening and strengthening as it goes, and so 
 mastering all that opposes its progress. Many a little 
 rock or eddy, that early in its course would turn it aside, 
 are, as it becomes more powerful, swept away or passed 
 over. And still more perhaps are the very hindrances that 
 thwarted turned into ministers to help its course. The 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 319 
 
 stronger and more fixedly the soul is set upon one ob- 
 ject, so much the more does it find power to overcome all 
 difficulties, and despise all that may be only outward or 
 accidental. So doth it gain the victory over the world, 
 the flesh, and the devil." 
 
 " Epithets are for the most part the comment which 
 we put on facts related. They furnish our view of the 
 matter, or our opinion of the person concerned. 
 
 " A preacher ought to give us not merely a statement 
 of Truth, but his own testimony that it is Truth. Herein 
 a sermon differs from a book, that we have the living 
 voice bearing witness to that which we are taught to 
 believe, and setting his seal that it is true." 
 
 " In proportion to the earnestness and force with 
 which the Spirit impresses the truth upon the heart of 
 the preacher, will his words produce an effect upon his 
 hearers, for in such proportion will he speak with power 
 and truth." 
 
 " Prejudice magnifies faults : love magnifies virtues." 
 
 " What is bigotry ? What is prejudice ? 
 
 "That is commonly so called which opposes our 
 opinion, that view of things which is contrary to our 
 own. May it not be more truly described as that which 
 sees nothing but good in our thoughts of persons and 
 things, and that which judges harshly of the thoughts of 
 others ? He is a bigot, who can descry no good in any 
 mode of life or of thought but his own. He is preju- 
 diced who judges of things or people not by what they 
 really are, but by some preconception, formed without 
 real knowledge of the true facts. So delusive and 
 
320 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 blinding is this feeling, that let there be any amount of 
 kindness shown, or wisdom spoken, it falls dead upon 
 the mind that is prejudiced. No entrance is possible 
 when the ground is already occupied by a prejudice of 
 long standing, although it may have first taken posses- 
 sion of the mind from hasty and insufficient causes, gen- 
 erally from some injury to self-love or self-will. Freedom 
 from self and the love of truth are the elements of a 
 candid spirit." 
 
 " So closely does self-love cling to us, that when 
 through God's mercy the inward eye is opened to dis- 
 cern the ugliness within, we are still continually tempted 
 to look through a false medium and see ourselves with 
 the partial eyes of others, this being one of the rare 
 cases in which we are willing to esteem their judgment 
 superior to our own." 
 
 " Slow as we are to worship God in any way, prayer 
 is ever a more ready offering than praise. Is there not 
 often in the heart a secret feeling that offering of thanks 
 is a waste of time, there is nothing to be gained by it ? 
 So prone is Mammon to put forth his claims even in our 
 spiritual concerns." 
 
 "August 30, 1841. When we look down from a 
 great height, all unevennesses in the surface below seem 
 to be lost, all appears smooth. The little boat rides in 
 the still sea, there is no perceptible movement save that 
 by which it ever draws near to the haven whither it is 
 going, although to those within that boat it may be there 
 is a continual rolling motion, as wave after wave is 
 passed over. So will it doubtless be, when from a far 
 higher elevation we look down on the troubled waves of 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 321 
 
 life that we have passed through. No trace will be left 
 of the course through the waters, whether it has been 
 smooth or rough j if that course has led our little vessel 
 safe to its harbor in the breast of Jesus, all will be for- 
 gotten but the blessedness of a way that could lead to 
 such perfect rest. And is it a visionary thought, that 
 now, while we are still tossing to and fro, in the ever- 
 changing waves of human life, it is still possible that we 
 might mount up on eagle's wings to a blue sky above 
 the earth, and from thence look down as it were on our- 
 selves and all our trials here below, and lift up our hearts 
 into a region of such calm and heavenly serenity, that 
 from thence all things would seem to us as light com- 
 pared with the weight of glory around us ? Oh, if we 
 could dwell continually in such a high and lofty atmos- 
 phere, our short-sighted fears and doubts would flee 
 away, we should in light see light, and darkness would 
 be swallowed up in its fulness. But we are bound to 
 earth so fast that though our prayers rise heavenward, 
 our views are still directed towards earth, and fenced in 
 by many a thorny hedge or entangled wood, and we 
 cannot see clearly because we look on all around from 
 the place we now fill, instead of rising up ourselves into 
 heavenly places, and from thence looking down on all 
 things passing around us. If our life were indeed hid 
 with Christ in God, if we could realize any thing of 
 the height and depth of that mysterious life, we should 
 be kept in peace, even though the sea should roar and 
 all its fulness. The Lord on High is mightier than the 
 noise of many waters, yea, and in his strength we too 
 should be strong, our vision would be like his, eternal ; 
 we should see and behold all things are good ! " 
 " Oct. 27, 1841. It is one of the hardest things in 
 14* u 
 
322 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the world to be true to one's self in one's intercourse with 
 others. There is scarcely any thing that requires more 
 real courage. The nearest approach to it is with a 
 bosom friend, when heart meets heart, and when the 
 love that covers all sins makes disguise needless, and all 
 the inmost thoughts and feelings are laid bare without 
 fear or restraint. In proportion as we are more and 
 more removed from this oneness of mind with others 
 are we tempted to be untrue to ourselves. Sometimes 
 the fear of giving offence may be the cause, oftentimes 
 the dislike of seeming to be better than others ; in per- 
 sons of a nervous temperament there is a sensitiveness 
 to the influence of those around them, leading them from 
 their own real feelings to an agreement with the opinion 
 of others for the time. When placed in any new or un- 
 common situation, there is an effort attending it which 
 draws away from the simple and natural expression of 
 ourselves by manner or words. When persons begin 
 teaching others, there is almost always an artificial man- 
 ner created, and when strangers first become acquainted, 
 how little is there of true freedom from all put-on con- 
 versation and manner. The more truly Christian is our 
 spirit, the more we shall rise out of this bondage which 
 is of the earth earthly, to preserve our truth and up- 
 rightness of character, and to be in all places, and at 
 all times, and with all people, one and the same not 
 equally open or equally communicative, but equally free 
 from what is artincialand constrained, and steadfast in 
 keeping fast hold of those principles and feelings which 
 we know to be according to God's will and law 
 equally free from all pretence of knowing more than we 
 do know, or of feeling more than we do feel, while 
 we are not ashamed to confess those things which we 
 do believe and feel in our inmost selves." 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 323 
 
 "August 30, 1842. Marriage is a type of the union 
 between Christ and his Church, as being the closest 
 and most enduring of all those relations which God has 
 appointed here below. But it is chiefly so in showing 
 forth the reality of a tie which is deeper and stronger 
 than that of flesh and blood in the natural family feelings 
 of affection. It is the knitting into one of two separate 
 and distinct persons, who have not been tied to each 
 other by the outward circumstances of God's provi- 
 dence, as is the case in all other natural relationships, 
 but who, through their own free choice, from affinity of 
 character or dispositions, are drawn to each other in a 
 mysterious and inward manner, and who, through this 
 instinctive preference of each other, yearn to be one. 
 So it is with the union of Christ and his body the 
 Church. It must not be an outward tie, growing out of 
 the circumstances of our birth, our country, our oppor- 
 tunities : it must be an inward and spiritual longing to 
 be one, because we are of one mind and one heart, be- 
 cause we desire what He desires, because we love what 
 He loves. It must not be a matter of duty, as our duty 
 to parents, nor of love, as our love to our brethren is ; it 
 must be higher and deeper, a free gift, - the gift of our 
 whole heart, and soul, and mind, and body." 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal ("The Green Book"). 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, Sept 10. For some years past, 
 since I have been led to know more of the principles of 
 Church Life, as they are called, of those which concern 
 us as members of a Church constituted in this land for 
 the special need of Christian people, I have had much 
 ignorance removed, and many useful thoughts opened 
 to me that before I was dead to. And the feeling con- 
 
324 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 scious that I had neglected and overlooked much that 
 was of benefit has seemed to make me afraid of es- 
 teeming things wrong because contrary to previous 
 impressions ; but I think in the last year, since these 
 Church opinions are become less strange to me, I have 
 felt more and more how unsatisfying they are, and that 
 the Catholic doctrines they are grounded on are second- 
 ary and subordinate to the Evangelical ones that are 
 built on the word of God. I strive and desire in love 
 and meekness to refrain from all judgment of persons 
 who hold such opinions, but I do return I confess to 
 writers of simpler and more scriptural character, to 
 those who have more insight into the depths of spiritual 
 experience, with the feeling as if I were landed again 
 on solid ground after floating in a misty cloud. And 
 though in practical things I find much that is good in 
 the Catholic school, there is so great a want of motive 
 and principle of love in them to stir one up to do the 
 good works. It is so exclusively for self that they urge 
 us, that we may be holy, not that God may be glorified, 
 that I feel more and more that the true spirit of apostles 
 and martyrs is not there, that according to them it is not 
 of grace that we are to be saved, but of holy deeds j not 
 by the merits of Jesus, but by our own self-denial, our 
 obedience, and patience." 
 
 During the spring of 1844, the intimacy between 
 my mother and her friend Esther Maurice had 
 greatly increased, and the latter had passed some 
 time at Hurstmonceaux, where the Marcus Hares 
 were also staying. 
 
 In July we went to the Lakes, my Uncle Julius 
 and Esther Maurice accompanying us, and the in- 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 325 
 
 timacy thus engendered led to their engagement,' 
 and to their marriage in the following November. 
 
 Maria Hare to Rev. Oswald Leycester. 
 
 " Foxhow, July 18, 1844. We are safely at the end 
 of our journey, and at this most lovely spot. It was 
 about half-past five when we got here, when we received 
 a hearty welcome from Mrs. Arnold and all the family. 
 Well indeed does this place deserve the praise bestowed 
 on it by Dr. Arnold. The room in which I sit looks out 
 on a fine range of mountains closing in a beautiful green 
 valley, of which the flower-garden belonging to this 
 house makes the foreground j and at the foot of the 
 garden the clear river Rotha sparkles and bubbles along, 
 dividing the pleasure-ground from the meadows. 
 
 " This place is perfect for Mrs. Arnold, associated as 
 it is with him she has lost ; and this beautiful scenery 
 must be soothing to her mind when she looks around 
 and sees God's hand so visible in these his works. We 
 have had the Wordsworths here, and this evening go 
 to them. He is most kind-hearted, with all the simplic- 
 ity and love of nature that his poetry bespeaks, and he 
 and Julius have much pleasant conversation together, to 
 which we listen. We make this our headquarters till 
 the Stanleys come to fill our places, and with the beauty 
 of the scenery and this happy family party we thor- 
 oughly enjoy our visit." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 " Foxhow, July 19. We have been this afternoon 
 to Rydal Falls, which were quite beautiful, and the 
 gleams of sunshine playing through the trees and deep 
 gloom of the chasm were most picturesque. Afterwards 
 
326 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 we went to the Mount. The poet is a good deal older 
 than my impression, which was from the bust, but in 
 plainness and simplicity of manner quite what I ex- 
 pected. I was most, however, attracted by the sweet 
 old face of Mrs. Wordsworth. There was general con- 
 versation for a little while, and then Mrs. Arnold asked 
 for me to see the terrace, and Mr. Wordsworth (how odd 
 Mr. sounds to his name) took me by the arm and led me 
 to the Mount and along his garden walks to the terrace 
 looking on Rydal water, expatiating as he went along 
 on the different objects and on the changes that had 
 taken place, with those nice touches in the perception 
 of beauty which one sees in his poetry." 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hark 
 
 "Lime, Sept 24, 1844. As I write this date, it re- 
 minds me of how blessed a day this is to you, my own 
 Luce, and how much you are feeling to-day in the thought 
 of the eleven years that have passed since you and your 
 dearest Marcus were one. . . . But our thoughts this 
 morning have been engaged not in marriage thoughts, 
 but in those of death and resurrection. I went up to 
 breakfast at the rectory, and at half -past nine dear Jule 
 read the Burial Service, which at that hour was to be 
 read over the remains of dear, dear Sterling! On 
 Friday morning, at Guys, arrived the sad tidings that 
 his noble spirit had departed. Immediately they de- 
 cided, Frederick Maurice, Julius, and Esther, to go to 
 Ventnor to have one last look. They reached it at nine 
 o'clock at night, and there, by the death-bed of him who 
 had first united them in his own mind, did our two dear 
 ones kneel and pray together, a solemn bridal. . . . 
 Julius said he had such a beautiful smile on his face, 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 327 
 
 and looked as if asleep. When the end was drawing 
 near, no one knew how near, he asked Annie Maurice 
 for his Hurstmonceaux Bible, the one he used in the 
 cottages, and talked of visiting the poor here, and how 
 he should devote himself to the poor in the worst parts 
 of London if he had health and strength again. A few 
 hours after he had breathed his last. 
 
 " For Julius and Esther it will be a time never to 
 pass away; and if they had needed any warning to 
 remind them that 'here is not our abiding city,' and 
 that their earthly continuance together could not be for 
 ever, here they had it brought home with power. But I 
 feel as if I had been there with them : I cannot speak 
 of it calmly." 
 
 Maria Hare to Miss Clinton. 
 
 "Hurstmonceaux Rectory, Jan. 11, 1845. I have 
 not written to you since I came to stay at the Rectory, 
 and Julius, Esther, and I began our threefold life. . . . 
 You may think how pleasant it is to me to see my two 
 dear ones together, and to share their happiness. Every 
 morning after breakfast we have a reading together of 
 Isaiah : Esther with her Hebrew Bible, Jule with his 
 German Commentary. Then I go to Augustus and his 
 lessons, and they set to their writing, in which she is 
 sometimes able to help him in transcribing, but much 
 more by keeping him to his work, and taking off all the 
 hindrances that arise." 
 
 The summer of 1845 was an eventful one in our 
 quiet life. In June, my mother paid her first visit 
 since the year of her widowhood to her beloved 
 Alton home, and, overpowering as were the associ- 
 
328 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE, 
 
 
 ations which thronged upon her, at the first sight 
 of the White Horse, and the thatched cottages 
 embosomed in their tufted elm-trees, the heart-felt 
 burst of loving welcome with which the simple 
 villagers received her amply repaid the effort. 
 Amongst her cottage visits, I especially remember 
 one to an old man named William Pontin, who 
 after thanking her heartily for her "respectable 
 gift " said, " I do thank God every morning and 
 every night, that I do ; but thank 'un as I may, I 
 can never thank 'un enough ; He be so awful good 
 to I ; and then it just is comfortable for I to feel 
 that the Almighty's always at w'hom, He never 
 goes out on a visit." 
 
 On leaving Alton, we joined the Marcus Hares 
 at Swindon, and with them underwent the terror of 
 a frightful railway accident, near Slough. They 
 accompanied us to Hurstmonceaux, and spent the 
 summer at the Rectory, where my uncle Marcus 
 Hare,, after a short illness, passed peacefully into 
 rest, on July 30. On the 4th of August, his body 
 was laid amid the group of honored graves which 
 was fast gathering around the yew-tree in Hurst- 
 monceaux churchyard. 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal. 
 
 "Hurstmonceaux, 1845. On Thursday evening (Juty 
 24), as we returned from Lewes, we were stopped as we 
 were driving up to the Rectory with the news that dear 
 Marcus was alarmingly worse. . . . There were fluctua- 
 tions till the following Tuesday, when all hope faded away. 
 
HOME-LIFE AT LIME. 329 
 
 That afternoon he asked, ' Where is the Mia,' and taking 
 my hand he said, ' Lucy was given to console you, and 
 you are given to console her, and the children will be 
 yours too.' He desired at five o'clock that the children 
 might be sent for from Lime, and he spoke to each of 
 them, and blessed them. At four a. m., on Wednesday 
 morning, I felt the last moments were approaching, and 
 called Julius and Esther. In a few minutes they knelt 
 with us by the bedside of our departing brother. Julius 
 offered up two prayers from the visitation service, and 
 then read the 71st Psalm. As we began to repeat the 
 Gloria Patri, dear Marcus's breath began to intermit, 
 and as we joined in the Amen his last gentle sigh 
 escaped him. We again knelt by the bedside, and 
 Julius uttered our heart-felt thanks, in the words of the 
 Burial Prayer, to Him who had so graciously ' delivered 
 our Marcus from the burden of the flesh and the miseries 
 of this sinful world, to dwell with Him in joy and felicity.' 
 " The beautiful dawning of the summer morning, the 
 glorious sun that shed its light on all around, and that 
 entered that chamber of death, seemed truly the out- 
 ward type of that blessed Resurrection life which he 
 had now begun. ' There shall be no night there ; and 
 they need no candle, neither light of the sun, for the 
 Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign for 
 ever and ever.' " 
 
 Maria Hare to Augustus J. C. Hare. 
 
 " Lime, March 11, 1850. In two days more you will 
 be sixteen years old ! I can scarcely believe that my 
 dear tittle child, who used to run by my side, and play 
 with the flowers he had gathered, is indeed so nearly 
 approaching manhood. . . . You are now old enough 
 
330 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to seek after knowledge for knowledge's sake, and to 
 desire to learn correctly and solidly what you can. A 
 mere smattering of knowledge is worth nothing, and 
 I hope my Augustus will be something more than a 
 mere dilettante, one who only skinis over the surface 
 of learning, picking out that part which is pleasant or 
 agreeable, and leaving out the rest. In every thing 
 there must be pains and labor taken to master the diffi- 
 culties, and acquire the uninteresting and dry part, 
 which may be called the bones of the system, whatever 
 it is. There may be taste and beauty in a drawing, but 
 if the perspective be faulty and the lines crooked, it 
 cannot be really well done. So it is in languages : 
 there may be pleasure in the writings of poets or histo- 
 rians, but numberless errors will be made in translation 
 as in composition if there is no accurate knowledge of 
 the grammar. And it is not only because of the attain- 
 ments of study that it is needful to be diligent, but be- 
 cause it is only through this discipline of mind that the 
 character can be formed rightly, and the extravagancies 
 of imagination so sobered that one can see things truly 
 and accurately. In a Life of Socrates which I have 
 been reading, it is mentioned that the great business of 
 Socrates was in his public speeches to convince the 
 people that they had a conceit of knowledge instead of 
 the reality ; ' and this is exactly what you will find to be 
 your case by discovering, as you learn more, that as yet 
 you know only the outside and superficial part." 
 
XVI. 
 
 FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL* 
 
 u We know for us a rest remains, 
 
 When God will give us sweet release 
 From earth and all our mortal chains, 
 And turn our sufferings into peace. 
 What we have won with pain we hold more fast, 
 What tarrieth long is sweeter at the last. 
 Be thou content." 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 
 
 "C^ROM the time of her widowhood, in 1834, to 
 * the end of 1850, my mother's life had been 
 passed in almost complete seclusion. She had 
 never left home except to visit the immediate circle 
 of near relations, whose life was almost one with 
 hers, and, in the summer of 1849, t0 P av a l n g 
 visit at Haslar to Sir Edward Parry, who, from 
 early association, was regarded by her with almost 
 sisterly affection. From this time circumstances 
 brought a change in the routine of her life. The 
 desire of giving pleasure to her son was her first 
 incentive to the foreign travel, which proved so 
 beneficial to her health, that it was ever afterwards 
 resorted to as a remedy in her various illnesses, and 
 which was certainly the means of preserving her 
 precious life for many years to those who loved her. 
 
332 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 In July, 185 1, we went for a few weeks to Rouen, 
 Caen, and Falaise, and were on that occasion first 
 accompanied by her cousin, Miss Leycester, the 
 loving companion and tender friend who shared the 
 anxieties of many after years of sorrow and sickness. 
 From Lisieux we paid an interesting visit to M. 
 Guizot in his beautiful chateau of Val Richer. The 
 autumn and winter were spent quietly at Hurst- 
 monceaux. In the spring of 185 1 my Uncle Julius 
 had the first of the alarming illnesses which ter- 
 minated fatally in 1855. In that spring also he 
 received a severe shock in the secession of his 
 friend and co- Archdeacon, Henry Manning, to the 
 Church of Rome. 
 
 Maria Hare to Augustus J. C. Hare. 
 
 "April 8. Archdeacon Manning came here on 
 Friday last. Uncle Julius was afraid it was meant as 
 a farewell visit, and so it proved, though he said not 
 a word which could imply that it was so. Yesterday 
 came the sad news that on Sunday last he had joined 
 the Church 4 of Rome ! " 
 
 Archdeacon Hare to his Clergy. 
 
 "Alas! by a mysterious dispensation, through the 
 dark gloom of which my eyes have vainly striven to 
 pierce, we have to mourn over the loss, we have to 
 mourn over the defection and desertion of one whom 
 we have long been accustomed to honor, to reverence, 
 to love ; of one who, for the last ten years, has taken a 
 leading part in every measure adopted for the good of 
 the diocese ; of one to whose eloquence we have so 
 
FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL. 333 
 
 often listened with delight, sanctified by the holy pur- 
 poses that eloquence was ever used to promote ; of one, 
 the clearness of whose spiritual vision it seemed like 
 presumption to distrust, and the purity of whose heart, 
 the sanctity of whose motives, no one knowing him can 
 question. For myself, associated as I have been with 
 him officially, and having found one of the chief bless- 
 ings of my office in that association, accustomed to 
 work along with him in so many undertakings, to receive 
 encouragement and help from his godly wisdom, and, 
 notwithstanding many differences and almost opposition 
 of opinion, to take sweet counsel together, and walk in 
 the house of God as brothers, I can only wonder at the 
 inscrutable dispensation by which such a man has been 
 allowed to fall under so withering, soul-deadening a 
 spell, and repeat with awe to myself and to my friends, 
 1 Let him who thinketh he standeth take heed lest he 
 fall.' " 
 
 In 1852 an accident in her own garden, and the 
 long confinement consequent upon it, laid the 
 foundation of the ill-health, from which, though 
 spared to us for many years, my mother never 
 entirely recovered. Henceforward her gentle life 
 was often filled with much suffering to herself, and 
 with great anxiety to those who watched her. The 
 form of her malady was peculiarly trying to one of 
 her active mind, and to one who had hitherto found 
 her chief earthly interest in intellectual pursuits; 
 she had no acute pain, but a general oppression, 
 deafness, and trembling in every limb followed any 
 exposure to cold or damp, and, in the earlier years 
 
334 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of her illness, became most apparent in the spring 
 months, when her system was weakened by the 
 long cold of the winter. When any mental agi- 
 tation aggravated the symptoms, complete uncon- 
 sciousness ensued, and she often remained entirely 
 insensible, icily cold, neither heart nor pulse seem- 
 ing to beat, for many hours together, in which to all 
 appearance life was totally extinct; but at such 
 times she was always restored to us after a period 
 of terrible anxiety, rather better than worse for 
 what she had undergone, and believing (as long as 
 the remembrance lasted) that she had been enjoy- 
 ing all the beatitude of heaven. At other times 
 she would lie in a state of ' waking coma,' not in- 
 sensible, but unconscious to outward things, hearing 
 the angels singing to her, and wandering mentally 
 amid scenes of unfathomable beauty. Her visions 
 never took any form but those of loveliness, her 
 impressions never breathed any thing but peace ; 
 indeed, her unconscious was but a reflection of 
 her conscious life. When the hot weather returned, 
 especially if she had the assistance of elastic foreign 
 air to aid her restoration, she entirely recovered, 
 and retained no recollection in the autumn of what 
 had passed in the spring months. 
 
 Maria Hare (Note-Book). 
 
 " How many of the perplexities of the world, the 
 mysteries of life, and the confusions of philosophy, 
 would be removed by a simple and clear apprehension 
 of the Scripture truths, that ' the heart is deceitful above 
 
FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL. 335 
 
 all things,' and that ' all have sinned and come short of 
 the glory of God.' " 
 
 " The most difficult of all attainments is self-distrust." 
 
 " If we would be united, it must be by looking to the 
 same centre. Is it not to teach us that here alone we 
 shall find the true bond of unity, that so many different 
 sects are permitted in the Body of Christ ? 
 
 " As Thou art in me, and I in Thee, that they also 
 may be one in us.' 
 
 " In Christ we may all join in one spirit, and so form 
 one body, whatever be the diversities of worship, doc- 
 trine, or tastes. 
 
 " The longing for a visible Head is probably to pre- 
 pare us for the coming of the true and only Head of the 
 Church." 
 
 "The catechism of the world adds to the Church 
 Catechism one duty more, to the duty to God and 
 duty to our neighbor, it adds duty to ourselves ; and this 
 duty is one which no one is slow in fulfilling. Would 
 that the other parts of our debt were as truly and 
 faithfully performed as this one." 
 
 " I looked upon the wall of a room which had been 
 newly papered. It brought to my mind immediately the 
 soiled and torn condition of the old paper that had daily 
 met my eyes, until I had ceased to notice its deformity. 
 
 " So is it often with our sight of our own faults. They 
 are so habitually before us, they fail to awaken any 
 perception of their nature, until the contrast of a nature 
 renewed in goodness and truth reveals the real ugliness 
 
336 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of what existed before without our being conscious 
 of it." 
 
 " Eloquence has such a mighty power over the human 
 mind that many are apt to forget that there is no neces- 
 sary connection between this and truth. A man in a 
 passion, or a madman, will often pour forth a torrent of 
 eloquence, yet all his premises may be wrong or false. 
 So may a powerful preacher, or an ingenious and spir- 
 ited advocate, energetically and impressively declare his 
 doctrines or his cause, and yet both may be far from 
 soundness or justice. We must not allow ourselves to 
 be swayed by intellectual subtleties, or wisdom of words 
 and thoughts, any more than by passionate feelings and 
 human kindnesses, in our estimate of truth. Let it be 
 tested by the Word of God, let his law be our standard, 
 his apostles our authorities ; and though we may often 
 have to give up the human idols whom we admire or 
 love, we shall be preserved from much error and soph- 
 istry wherewith the devil seeks to ensnare us under 
 the form of an angel of light." 
 
 " The different modes in which different and differing 
 people desire to do God's will are as lines converging to 
 a common centre. When the true-hearted meet in the 
 centre, in the real knowledge and love of God, the dis- 
 tance of the varied lines from each other has vanished 
 away, and all is one." 
 
 "Feb. 6,. 1853. In contemplating a person we love, 
 in speaking to such a one, in admiring him, what is it 
 that excites our love and praise ? Is it the dress he 
 wears, or the beauty of the house in which he dwells ? 
 
FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL. 337 
 
 Or is it the goodness and love that dwells in himself ? 
 Surely it is the character and mind of our beloved one, 
 it is that mind and character as shown forth to ourselves, 
 that especially wins our affection. 
 
 " And so it is with our best Beloved, with Jesus our 
 Lord. We cannot love or know Him better from the 
 beauty of his temples, the splendor of his services, 
 the attractions to our senses and imagination in fine 
 architecture, in beautiful music, in grand paintings. 
 These may stir our feelings for the brief time that we 
 are present with them, but we are not to walk by feeling 
 but by faith, and these teach us nothing of Christ. In 
 the written Word we learn to know his love, and by 
 his Spirit it is shed abroad in our hearts. We love Him 
 who first loved us, and learn what it is to worship in 
 spirit and in truth. While therefore we delight in plea- 
 sant sounds and beautiful forms, let us never be deluded 
 into the belief that holiness or religion can be promoted 
 by any thing short of Christ Himself." 
 
 "June 29, 1853. Charity. What is its true place in 
 the scheme of our salvation ? Maurice, in his desire to 
 meet Unitarians in their assertion of its necessity, places 
 it in the foreground of Christian truth. But is not this 
 to choose for ourselves, instead of adopting the apos- 
 tolic order of things ? St. Paul says, indeed, that Charity 
 is greater than Faith, because more enduring. But he 
 lays the foundation of Faith before the superstructure of 
 Charity is erected. To do otherwise is very much the 
 same as if we were to attempt to plant a tree by taking 
 its highest branches, with all their beautiful clothing of 
 leaves, and putting them in the ground, instead of fixing 
 IS v 
 
338 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the root or sowing the seed of the plant, and then seeing 
 it spring into life and grow up into a tree. 
 
 " The result of the one must be gradual decay and 
 withering away ; that of the other will be increase and 
 growth unto the perfect tree, bearing fruit in due sea- 
 son, even the fruit of Charity." 
 
 " It is from the mouth of the ignorant that we hear 
 the words ' I know ; ' from the diligent and well-informed 
 we hear, ' let me learn ? ' " 
 
 " The confusion of fancying ourselves or others insin- 
 cere because we are inconsistent is a very mischievous 
 error, leading to despondency and cowardice in our own 
 case, and to harsh and unfair judgments of others. If 
 we were to call it weakness, or prejudice, or changeable- 
 ness of feeling or opinion, we should often come nearer 
 the truth. How wise, how good should we be, could we 
 see our own follies, prejudices, and weaknesses, with the 
 same clearness, with the same annoyance that we do 
 those of others. But then they would cease to annoy 
 us, for the moment of sight in such cases would be the 
 moment of dispersion. All would vanish at the magical 
 touch of that honest truthfulness which could discern 
 them. Folly would be transformed into wisdom, preju- 
 dice into candor, and weakness would rapidly be meta- 
 morphosed into strength." 
 
 " The life of a holy Christian should be one perpetual 
 Sacrament. Every moment of his daily life may unite 
 him by faith with Christ, so that his clothing, food, home, 
 friends, work, and leisure may all nourish and feed the 
 
 
FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL. 339 
 
 life within, and bring into his storehouse things new and 
 old to enrich the mind of the spirit from without By 
 thus receiving Christ in his providences and his creation, 
 by his outward no less than his inward teachings, we 
 shall be fashioned after his likeness and grow to man- 
 hood in his kingdom." 
 
 "March 5, 1852. The great secret of happiness is 
 to throw one's self into the circumstances that surround 
 one, and learn their lesson, and not desire nor look for 
 some other. So also in persons, if we could value and 
 profit by what they have, and not be vainly wishing for 
 qualities .they have not, we should benefit by them far 
 more, and be spared the disappointment and mortifica- 
 tion we so often feel in finding so little of what we 
 desire in the society around us. It must be a barren 
 land that produces nothing good. But it is not always 
 that one sees it on the surface. We must dig for it, and 
 thus discover many a secret treasure." * 
 
 Having vainly sought health at Hastings and 
 Eastbourne, my mother was ordered again to try 
 the effects of foreign travel, and in the middle of 
 July we proceeded, with Miss Leycester, down the 
 Rhine to Heidelberg, where we found a charming 
 lodging, with a lovely oleander-fringed garden, over- 
 hanging the steep side of the hill close to the 
 castle. The month passed there was one of great 
 enjoyment, and my mother gained strength daily in 
 
 * Fragments from my mother's note-books have appeared from 
 time to time, with the signature a, in the various editions of the 
 "Guesses at Truth." 
 
340 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 drives upon the lovely Berg Strasse, and mornings 
 spent in the courts and gardens of the castle, which 
 were so near as to be like our own domain. Dur- 
 ing the latter part of our stay we were joined by 
 Mrs. Stanley, with her son and daughter, and her 
 niece Miss Penrhyn, on their way to Italy. After 
 they left us, my mother had regained strength 
 sufficiently to enjoy a short tour by Baden, Stras- 
 burg, and Metz, to Treves and the Moselle. Hence 
 I returned to England, and she went to Kreuznach, 
 where her health became for the time completely 
 re-established. 
 
 Catharine Stanley to Maria Hark 
 
 " Rome, Oct. 5, 1852. When we entered the Cam- 
 pagna, I wondered how a place covered with such 
 luxuriance of vegetation as the thickets of wild vines 
 and wild figs throwing themselves about everywhere 
 could be unhealthy; it is such a free, open-breathing 
 space. . . . When we reached the Flaminian gate, and 
 saw the obelisk and the three diverging streets, it was so 
 exactly what I knew, that I could hardly believe I had 
 not been there before, all was so familiar. We went 
 that very afternoon to the Capitol, and ascended the 
 tower ; and then the well-known Forum, and arches, 
 and Coliseum, and St. John Lateran appeared. The 
 prints give you an exact representation, except perhaps 
 that you do not take in the large proportion of dull town 
 that there is, and the admixture of very common build- 
 ings. Then suddenly came a gleam of light for a few 
 moments, and the Campagna was lighted up with a 
 rainbow. I never saw any thing like it; of that no 
 print or picture can give you the idea. 
 
FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL. 34 1 
 
 "Our second drive was to St. Peter's, but we only 
 took a general glance. I was anxious to get to my 
 farthest point first, the Pyramid of Caius Cestius. It 
 is indeed the most perfect place of rest one can imagine, 
 and/or him. The rose-hedge was in full flower, cluster- 
 ing thickly all round the grave and round that of 
 Bunsen's children, and there were two aloes at the foot, 
 and the pine and cypresses." 
 
 Maria Hare to Augustus J. C. Hare (at Oxford). 
 
 " March 12, 1854. My beloved Augustus's birthday 
 is at hand, and to-morrow he will complete his twentieth 
 year. I can scarcely believe you are so old, so quickly 
 have the years passed since you were a little boy running 
 by my side. May God bless and preserve you from all 
 evil of body and mind, and strengthen you to serve 
 Him. I thank Him for having given you to my care, 
 and for having put into your heart a true love for your 
 adopting mother. You are able now to repay all the 
 anxieties of earlier days, and hitherto you have indeed 
 done so by your tender care and loving attentions, 
 especially in the last two years, when my infirmities have 
 so much increased. I hope, my own Augustus, that this 
 year may be a very profitable one to you, and that the 
 life at Oxford may prove a means of fitting you for God's 
 service ; and that both the instruction you receive, the 
 knowledge you gain, and the society you join in, may 
 work together for your good, and may stablish your 
 character in manly principles, in expansion of mind, and 
 in love of truth. I need not add a sermon to the little 
 book I send ; so I will only exhort you, while you desire 
 to be useful to your fellow-creatures, not to forget that 
 you yourself must first draw out of the well-spring of the 
 
RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Word of God, which is ever new. Do not judge of what 
 is truth by the inconsistent and imperfect lives of even 
 sincere Christians, but by going to Christ's own life and 
 words. Beware of the opposite snares of superstitious 
 credulity and overestimate of outward and visible re- 
 ligion, and of rationalistic unbelief. To be a true 
 Christian, and not a high or low churchman, must be 
 your aim. But, above all, seek to be 'quickened in 
 spirit ' by the Spirit of God, that you may be not almost 
 but altogether his child, and a faithful soldier of Christ, 
 able to conquer your besetting sins and temptations to 
 selfishness, of whatever kind it may be, and to forgetful- 
 ness of God f s presence and love. 
 
 " This is a most lovely day ; and oh ! how I enjoy a 
 country Sunday! all the crocuses look so bright, and 
 there is such a profusion of violets." 
 
 My uncle, Julius Hare, had returned home to 
 Hurstmonceaux Rectory very ill just before the 
 Christmas of 1854, and from that time he scarcely 
 ever left his room. While she remained at home, 
 my mother visited him every afternoon, and even 
 then he seemed worse than he had ever been 
 before. After her health obliged our removal to 
 London, his illness increased. A few days before 
 his death there was a gleam of hope, but on the 
 2 2d of January pain of the heart set in and this 
 became darkened. 
 
 So great was his weakness that a short portion 
 of the Scriptures, or a Psalm, was all that he could 
 bear ; for the fever and the dryness of the throat im- 
 peded his articulation, and made conversation dif- 
 
 
FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL. 343 
 
 ficult. In this way the 17th, the 23d, and the 71st 
 Psalms were read to him, and portions of the 
 earlier chapters of St. John. When the 17th Psalm 
 was read to him, he said, 4 Thank you for choosing 
 that dear Psalm ; it is one of my greatest favor- 
 ites.' Meanwhile his patience and his thankfulness 
 never failed. Two days before his death, in de- 
 tached and whispered sentences, and for the last 
 time, he offered up a prayer in which were these 
 petitions : ' We thank Thee for every dispensation 
 of Thy providence, and pray that, whether painful 
 for the moment or pleasant, they may bring us 
 nearer to Thee in child-like confidence and trust ; ' 
 and then, in a true pastoral spirit, he expressed his 
 last prayer for the beloved flock of his parish : 
 ' that God's blessing might rest on them and their 
 minister ; that they might all be taught of God ; 
 and be led to seek more and more earnestly the 
 way of eternal life ; ' after which he repeated slowly 
 the Lord's Prayer, the prayer he loved so well. 
 On Monday evening, the day before he died, the 
 beautiful 121st Psalm was repeated to him, verse 
 by verse, ' I will lift up mine eyes to the hills, 
 whence cometh my help,' with pauses between 
 the verses, and an offer to cease if it were too 
 much for him. But he smiled even then, and, 
 though unable to speak, nodded his assent and his 
 wish that the Psalm should be continued. On the 
 same night, as one feature of his religion had long 
 been a delight in the frequent communion of the 
 Lord's Supper, it was suggested that his curate 
 
344 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 
 should administer it the next day, if he would wish 
 it. ' Very much,' he whispered, 'if I am able. It 
 would be a great comfort/ But before the day 
 dawned he no more needed the memorials of an 
 absent Saviour. He was present with the Lord. 
 . . . When it was said to him in the night of his 
 passover that he was going to his heavenly Father's 
 home, he faintly answered, ' I think I may be ; ' and 
 after a short pause added, ' Bless the Lord for all 
 his mercies to me.' But his last clear words were 
 remarkable ; for they were in a voice more distinct 
 and strong than he had reached for several days 
 past, and, in answer to the question how he would 
 be moved, with his eyes raised towards heaven, 
 and a look of indescribable brightness, he said, 
 1 Upwards, upwards.' Soon after that he passed 
 from earth to heaven." * 
 
 My mother received the news of her brother's 
 death with tearful calmness, and nothing would 
 induce her to waver from her determination to 
 return to Hurstmonceaux before the day of the 
 funeral. 
 
 It was on the 30th of January, a cold and pierc- 
 ing day, that the last Hare of Hurstmonceaux was 
 buried. The coffin was carried from the rectory 
 to the church by eighteen bearers in white Sus- 
 sex smock-frocks, followed by a number of his 
 friends, his servants, about fifty of the clergy, and 
 a long train of his poorer parishioners, who fell 
 
 * From the funeral sermon preached at Hurstmonceaux by 
 the Rev. H. V. Elliot. 
 
FAILING HEALTH AND FOREIGN TRAVEL. 345 
 
 into the procession as it passed through the differ- 
 ent villages. The widow joined the other mourn- 
 ers at the foot of the hill leading to the church. 
 As we passed into the churchyard, it was covered 
 thickly with snow, but the church was lit up with 
 the full sunshine, and the effect was beautiful, on 
 looking back upon the winding road filled with a 
 throng of people as far as the eye could reach. 
 The grave was by that of his brother Marcus, a 
 little in front of the great yew-tree, round the 
 trunk of which was ranged a group of some of the 
 oldest parishioners, one old man especially who 
 had lived in the castle in the time of his rector's 
 great-grandfather, and who had insisted on being 
 brought to the church to see the last of the family 
 with whom he had been so long connected. All 
 the concourse of clergy standing around in the 
 open air repeated the responses, and all the clergy 
 and all the people, as with one voice, said the 
 Lord's Prayer, when, broken by sobs, it was es- 
 pecially solemn and thrilling, and the words " Thy 
 will be done " came home to every heart. 
 
 The weeks which followed the funeral were oc- 
 cupied in dismantling the rectory. All its treasures 
 were dispersed, the bulk of the fine library being 
 presented by Julius Hare's widow to the library of 
 Trinity College, at Cambridge, and the collection 
 of pictures to the . Fitz- William Museum. My 
 mother's intense desire to be of comfort and use 
 to others gave her an amount of strength at this 
 time which was astonishing to those who had 
 15* 
 
346 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 looked forward with the utmost dread to the ef- 
 fect this long-expected grief would have upon her ; 
 but her effort at self-command proved too great for 
 her physical powers, and after Mrs. Julius Hare 
 had moved to Lime, and the last link with the rec- 
 tory life was thus broken,* she fell into a state of 
 unconsciousness which lasted for sixty hours with 
 scarcely the faintest hope of recovery. Yet after 
 that time she was again given back to us. 
 
 In March, i860, we first knew that we should be 
 obliged to leave Hurstmonceaux, and the summer 
 was sadly passed in preparations, in leave-takings, 
 and in looking for a new home, which was very 
 difficult to find. Many places in all the southern 
 counties of England were examined in vain ; and 
 my mother was on the point of giving up the search 
 as hopeless, and going abroad for several years, 
 when a little property near Hastings was sug- 
 gested to her, which met all her needs, and which, 
 under the name of Holmhurst, became the happy 
 home of the later years of her life. 
 
 * The living of Hurstmonceaux, which had been long in the 
 family, had been sold by Francis George Hare in 1854. 
 
XVII. 
 
 HOLMHURST. 
 
 "Remember that some of the brightest drops in the 
 chalice of life may still remain for us in old age. The last 
 draught which a kind Providence gives us to drink, though 
 near the bottom of the cup, may, as is said of the draught 
 of the Roman of old, have at that very bottom, instead of 
 dregs, most costly pearls." W. A. Newman. 
 
 /^VUR new home, only fourteen miles from Hurst- 
 ^^ monceaux, was situated on the high narrow 
 ridge of hill which divides the seaboard near Hast- 
 ings from the richly wooded undulations of the 
 Weald of Sussex. The house was little more than 
 a cottage with a few better rooms added to it, but 
 its winding passages and low rooms were well 
 suited to our old pictures and carved furniture, 
 relics for the most part of Hurstmonceaux Castle. 
 The principal rooms opened upon a little terrace 
 with vases, whence one looked down through up- 
 land oak-studded meadows to Hastings Castle and 
 the sea ; and a narrow garden, filled with variety of 
 wood, rock, and water, all alike in miniature, rambled 
 on either side along the edge of the hill. 
 
 To break the change in our lives, and for the 
 benefit to my mother's health, it had long been 
 settled that we should pass the winter at Men- 
 
1 
 
 34$ RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 tone ; and as soon as we had taken possession of 
 Holmhurst, we proceeded thither, visiting Orleans, 
 Bourges, Avignon, Nismes, and Aries upon the 
 way. 
 
 Our winter at Mentone was by far the most 
 delightful of the many we have spent abroad. My 
 mother entirely enjoyed it. The walks and donkey- 
 rides were inexhaustible, the scenery surpassingly 
 lovely, the climate delicious, and a pleasant circle 
 of friends occupied the villas, which, thinly scat- 
 tered over the orange-gardens and olive-groves, 
 then formed the whole colony. 
 
 The only shadow over my mother's happy winter 
 at Mentone came in the news of the death of her 
 only brother, Mr. Penrhyn, and the impossibility of 
 being with him in his last illness. The loss of his 
 warm welcome and unfailing sympathy made a 
 great blank in her return to England, though she 
 was much comforted by the loving attentions which 
 she always received from his four children, and 
 which she warmly and tenderly appreciated. In 
 the following spring (of 1862), on March 5, the 
 day preceding the first anniversary of her brother's 
 death, came greater grief in the parting with her 
 beloved sister, Mrs. Stanley, endeared to her in a 
 whole lifetime of unbroken confidence and revering 
 love. It gave an additional interest to her little 
 Holmhurst that this dear sister had seen and en- 
 joyed it, and that their last intimate companionship 
 was associated with the new home. Here my 
 mother remained quietly for nearly two years. 
 
HOLMHURST. 349 
 
 My mother especially delighted in her Sundays. 
 They were not only days of rest, but of real enjoy- 
 ment to her. Before going to church she always 
 devoted herself entirely to thinking of and reading 
 about the lessons appointed for the day, and refer- 
 ring to Jeremy Taylor, Leighton, Tauler, Olshausen, 
 Calvin, Luther, Alford, Barnes, and other commen- 
 tators, for their views on the subjects contained in 
 them. She also every Sunday read and thought 
 upon the Resurrection. In the afternoons she 
 visited her garden, and sate out in the fields over- 
 looking the sea, whenever the weather allowed. In 
 the evening she played and sang hymns. With 
 Henry Vaughan, she regarded her Sundays as 
 
 " Bright shadows of true rest ! some shoots of bliss ; 
 
 Heaven once a week ; 
 The next world's gladness pre-possessed in this ; 
 
 A day to see 
 Eternity in Time." 
 
 It had been a distress to her on our first settling 
 at Holmhurst that the church was at so great a 
 distance. In the autumn of 1862, chiefly through 
 the kindness of a neighbor, a little iron church 
 was raised close to our gates. 
 
 In the autumn of 1862, my mother's health again 
 began to fail, and the winter was passed in great 
 suffering and anxiety. In the spring we again re- 
 sorted to the unfailing remedy of foreign air, and, 
 in spite of her great weakness, reached Hyeres in 
 safety, where she at once began to revive, and pro- 
 
350 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ceeded to Nice, where we passed several months in 
 a small apartment which had a beautiful view of the 
 sea on one side, and of the snow mountains across 
 orange and carouba groves on the other. In the 
 late spring we went for a short time to revisit 
 Mentone, and then to Geneva and Thun, where we 
 passed some time in great enjoyment at the Pen- 
 sion Baumgarten, before returning to Holmhurst. 
 In these tours the faithful Mary Gidman was our 
 constant companion, and if I went away for longer 
 excursions, she always accompanied my mother in 
 her rambles through the mountain pastures she so 
 intensely delighted in. The extreme pleasure my 
 mother felt in mountain scenery was fully shared 
 by her sister Lucy, who spent this summer in 
 Switzerland. 
 
 My mother's meeting with her sister Esther, in 
 the autumn of 1863, was indeed the last, Mrs 
 Julius Hare passed away early in the following 
 February, while we were at Rome. 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 "Bologna, Nov. 6, 1863. Can it be twenty-nine 
 years, my Luce, since we were here together ? So it is, 
 and as surely as our Lord Jesus was with us both, in 
 those days of mingled joy and sorrow, so surely is He 
 with us now : you in your watching by a sick-bed, me 
 in my wanderings far away. I wonder whether you 
 recollect this picturesque old town and its beautiful 
 pictures ? " 
 
 " Rome, Dec. 4. Nothing can live more quietly than 
 we do here, quite as much as at home. In the even- 
 
HOLMHURST. 35 1 
 
 ings Augustus reads to me something connected with 
 the history of the day. There are endless interests, 
 but as long as the weather keeps fine, we keep to the 
 country and the views for drawing. ... As I walk over 
 the Pincio on Sunday mornings, do I not think of those 
 Sunday walks in 1834, when first the inward flood of 
 sunshine illuminated the outward darkness of my life, 
 and revealed the beauties of the unseen world whither 
 my Augustus had entered, and can it be thirty years 
 since then ? I ask myself. Why should one ever doubt 
 or fear, when the past testifies so truly that ' goodness 
 and mercy have followed ' one through all of sorrow and 
 joy?" 
 
 " yan. 28. The continued anxiety about dear Esther 
 so presses upon me that I can think of little else. . . . 
 There is no place like Rome for times of sorrow, and 
 where in the midst of the world, and a gay one too, one 
 can be so retired and solitary. And there is something 
 in the relics of past ages and all the old ruins so mourn- 
 ful, and yet, in the crumbling away of earthly grandeur, 
 so speaking of the true ' Eternal Gity,' that one's mind 
 is continually filled with thoughts of a future that cannot 
 pass away. Then the Campagna, with its wild solitary 
 aspect and lovely views, is so unlike any thing else." 
 
 " Rome, Feb. 18, 1864. On this day thirty years ago, 
 you and I, dearest Luce, stood by the bedside and 
 received the last breath of that beloved one who was 
 then delivered from the burden of the flesh, and entered 
 the rest prepared for those who love their Lord. And I 
 can find nothing so congenial as to talk to you, my 
 beloved sister-friend, on this day when you will surely 
 be reading the same Psalm xc, and recalling the same 
 scene in that room so near me now. From the Trinity 
 
352 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 de' Monti I look down daily on its windows, and can 
 give thanks for the flood of light poured in upon me 
 there, and ' take courage.' Thirty years ! How is it all 
 but as a day, a short day in God's sight, yet how long 
 a one in all that has been crowded into it. How many 
 dear ones have been taken away in this space of time 
 from our sight, how many been given to fill up in some 
 measure the blank. And she, our Esther, who is now 
 hovering on the border-land, was a blessing given, now 
 about to be taken from us. Can we not trust the Lord 
 in our sorrow, while we praise Him for his goodness ? 
 I am so glad to be here on this anniversary, so solemn 
 and so blessed, and to be able to spend it in a visit to 
 the cemetery so sacred to me. There the growth of the 
 aloes is a token of the years that have passed since they 
 were planted ; . . . and you and I are nearing the 
 haven of rest where it will little matter whether joy or 
 sorrow has been our portion, if only we are wholly the 
 Lord's, * strengthened, stablished, and settled' in his 
 faith and love. 
 
 " In this place one needs no outward spiritual com- 
 munion. It is enough when alone to commune with 
 Him who is the same that was yesterday when Rome 
 was in its glory, and is to-day in its degradation, and 
 will be in the future whatever be its course, and who 
 has fashioned the beauties which still gird it round, and 
 which can be equally enjoyed in all ages." 
 
 Lucy Anne Hare to Maria Hare. 
 
 " London, Jan. 30, 1864. Our almost sainted sister 
 lies close to me. Her gentle voice can now scarcely be 
 heard, still the love at her heart's door is as warm as 
 ever. She can still read a little in her Psalm book, but 
 
HOLMHURST. 353 
 
 the seeing any one causes such terrible suffering, she 
 does not attempt it. It cannot last much longer, and 
 then, the meeting, not the parting ! " 
 
 "Feb. 29. Our beloved Esther is now rejoicing in 
 the better world. . . . Just after midnight on the 19th 
 her bell rang, and when the maid came in, quite in a 
 clear voice she told her to call her sister. As soon as 
 she went in, she saw that the end was come. Esther 
 pressed her hand strongly, stroked it tenderly, but could 
 not speak. Only, in answer to L.'s inquiry, she said, 
 ' All peace and mercy,' or some such words ; and when 
 L. said, ' Is Christ with you ? ' she said, * Yes,' 
 closed her eyes, and, like a wearied child, laid her head 
 on the pillow, and without one struggle, or even passing 
 cloud over the mind, she was asleep." 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal. 
 
 "March 4, 1864. I have heard from Arthur Stanley 
 of our dear Esther's funeral. . . . 
 
 " It was at Highgate. She had expressed in her will, 
 and also on a separate memorandum, a strong desire to 
 be buried at Hurstmonceaux, but a short time before 
 her death she called for her sister, and asked her how 
 long she was likely to live, * For if I last till the 
 spring, I should still wish to be laid by Julius at Hurst- 
 monceaux, but if not, if the funeral is to be in this cold 
 weather, the living must not be sacrificed to the dead, 
 and I must be buried at Highgate.' So it was. Arthur 
 says it was a raw, gusty, sleeting day. He read the 
 opening part of the service in the chapel, and then they 
 went in carriages up the hill, for the grave is nearly at 
 the top of the cemetery, in the vault where her father 
 and mother and Priscilla are buried, and where Julius 
 
354 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 had buried her mother and Priscilla together, and been 
 so deeply affected, and had knelt by the open grave. 
 The mourners stood, partly sheltered by a small shed, 
 Arthur on a gravestone immediately at the foot of the 
 grave, against a large cross, without a name, which 
 seemed to him well to suit the thought of her who was 
 gone. There lay the three coffins below, and upon them 
 her coffin descended, with a white flower or two thrown 
 upon it, and so that sacred lamp went out, went 
 out to our mortal sight, but to be rekindled, we may 
 believe, with a better and brighter, but still the same 
 celestial flame, where no cruel wind or sleet or storm 
 shall agitate its keen pure light for ever." 
 
 The winter of 1863-64 we again passed at Rome, 
 reaching it, by a terrible and trying journey, through 
 the flooded country around Ficulle and Orvieto, 
 where the unfinished railway, and the difficulty of 
 obtaining post-horses, made travelling most diffi- 
 cult for an invalid. Once established in the Piazza 
 di Spagna, however, my mother began to revive, 
 and her comparative health enabled her to enjoy 
 this Roman winter more than any other. It was 
 especially rich in the society of friends, especially 
 that of the venerable Caroline, Lady Wenlock, who 
 was living close by, and who in her great age pre- 
 served evergreen her wonderful gifts of wit and 
 anecdote, mingled with a most winning courtesy 
 and careful thoughtfulness for all around her, of 
 two of the daughters of our cousin, Sir J. Shaw 
 Lefevre, who were passing the winter at Rome 
 with their aunt, Miss Wright, afterwards my moth- 
 
HOLMHURST. 355 
 
 er's kind companion and comforter in many days 
 of failing health and strength, and of Dean 
 Alford and his family, whose well-informed interest 
 in all that Rome could offer added a fresh charm 
 to all we saw there, as it has often done elsewhere. 
 The first few weeks of this winter were perfect 
 Elysium, the sketching for hours in the depths 
 of the Forum, watching the sunlight first kiss the 
 edge of the columns, and then bathe them with 
 gold ; the wandering with different friends over 
 the old mysterious churches on the Aventine and 
 Ccelian, and the finding out and analyzing all their 
 histories from various books at home afterwards ; 
 even the drives between the high walls, seeing the 
 changing effects of sunlight on the broken tufa 
 stones and the pellitory and maidenhair grow- 
 ing between them ; the Sunday afternoons, almost 
 invariably passed with my mother in the Medici 
 Gardens, walking under the pine-trees in the sun, 
 and looking upon the distant Sabine mountains, in 
 their chill, snow garb ; the delicious excursions 
 with the Alfords into the distant parts of the Cam- 
 pagna, to Ostia, with its gorgeous marbles and 
 melancholy tower and pine, to Castel Fusano, 
 with its palace, like that of the Sleeping Beauty, 
 rising lonely from its green lawns, with its grand 
 forest full of gigantic pines and bays and ilexes 
 and deep, still pools in the abysses of the wood, 
 bounded on one side by the pathless Campagna, 
 and on the other by the sea, to Collatia, with its 
 copses filled with violets and anemones, and its 
 
356 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 purling brook and broken tower, to Cerbara, full 
 of colossal caves with laurestinus waving through 
 their rifts, to Veii, with its long circuit of ruins, 
 its tunnelled Ponte Sodo, and its columbaria and 
 tombs. These are our winter memories, these and 
 many quiet days spent alone with my mother amid 
 Roman ruins and gardens, when her gentle pres- 
 ence, when the very thought of her loved existence, 
 made all things beautiful and lovely to the com- 
 panion of her life. 
 
 In the spring we revisited Sorrento and Amain, 
 and then went to Courmayeur, at the foot of Mont 
 Blanc, on its magnificent Italian side. As we passed 
 through Florence we paid a last visit to Landor, 
 then in extreme old age, looking most patriarchal 
 in his white hair and beard. His mind was cloud- 
 ing, and he scarcely recollected us at first, but he 
 remembered the family, and repeated over and over 
 again the familiar names, " Francis, Julius, Augus- 
 tus, I miei tre Imperatori ! I have never known any 
 family I loved so much as yours. I loved Francis 
 most, then Julius, then Augustus, but I loved 
 them all. Francis was the dearest friend I ever 
 had." A few weeks after, his great spirit passed 
 away. Towards the end of June we returned to 
 Holmhurst, where my mother spent the whole of 
 the summer. 
 
 Maria Hare's Journal ("The Green Book"). 
 
 " Holmhurst, Nov. 22, 1864. Sixty-six! Yes, so 
 many have been the years of my pilgrimage, and surely 
 
HOLMHURST. 357 
 
 they are drawing near to their close. What a solemn 
 thought, yet how difficult to realize it ! The last year 
 has added another to the blanks made in my heart's 
 treasures ; in losing my loved Esther from this world I 
 have lost one who, for twenty-seven years, has been a 
 most loving friend, and for seventeen years a dear sister. 
 Her calm wisdom and loving sympathy has made her 
 ever the most precious of my friends, and I have been 
 so closely bound up with her in her Hurstmonceaux life 
 that I feel no one can share in the recollections of the 
 past as she did. She is 
 
 1 Gone, gone, but gone before, 
 
 Silent the name 
 Upon the lips where once 
 The music came.' 
 
 Like a gentle river she has passed away and been trans- 
 lated whither so many of her beloved ones had gone 
 before, and now they are all members of the heavenly 
 host awaiting the fuller and more perfect bliss of the 
 glorified saints. 
 
 " May I, in my few remaining years, be fitted to join 
 them, being clothed upon with the wedding garment of 
 Christ's Righteousness. There is no other that can 
 cover one's emptiness. Oh, in spite of all the discipline 
 of this life, how poor and wretched are my attainments 
 in the heavenly life ! how slothful and dead to spiritual 
 interests ! May the Lord himself quicken me to greater 
 earnestness in running the race set before me, to more 
 faithfulness in the duties of my life, and more submission 
 in the trials of this troublesome world, its anxieties, and 
 its contrarieties. O Lord my Saviour, do Thou come 
 and fill my heart, and enable me, forgetting what is 
 
358 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 oehind, to press forward to the prize of my high calling 
 in Thee. Then shall I awake and be satisfied in Thy 
 likeness, and be united with the loved and lost ones, 
 and with them join in praises to the Lamb that was 
 slain, who is alone worthy to receive honor and blessing 
 for ever and ever." 
 
 The winter of 1864-65 was a terribly anxious one. 
 My mother's powers failed with the approach of 
 winter, and she became daily more and more ill. 
 Gradually the consciousness came that there was 
 no chance of her recovery but through going 
 abroad, and then came the difficulty of how to go, 
 and where. We turned towards Pau or Biarritz 
 because easier of access than Cannes, and because 
 the journeys were shorter ; and then there was the 
 constant driving down to look at the sea, and the 
 discovery that when it was calm enough my mother 
 was too ill to be moved, and when she was better 
 the sea was too rough. 
 
 In November, 1865, we went out again to Rome 
 by Genoa and the Riviera road, and then by the Ma- 
 remma railway to Nunziatella, whence we had to pro- 
 ceed through the night in diligences, accompanied 
 by mounted patrols as a defence against the brig- 
 ands. The winter was passed in the upper floor of 
 the beautiful Tempietto (" Claude's House "), look- 
 ing down over the whole expanse of the city with its 
 domes and towers. On leaving Rome we passed 
 some days very pleasantly at Narni and Perugia, and 
 then proceeded to Bellaggio, and crossed the Splu- 
 gen in sledges, to visit the Bunsens at Carlsruhe. 
 
HOLMHURST. 359 
 
 The only variety to my mother's peaceful sum- 
 mer (1866) was a visit to Shropshire, and to Alton, 
 where her poor friends welcomed her with a wealth 
 of evergreen love, and where she gave a supper to 
 forty of the older people in a barn, where the owls 
 hissed overhead in the oak rafters. After the feast 
 was over, she made the people a sweet little speech, 
 praying that all present there might meet her at the 
 Supper of the Lamb. It was her last sight of these 
 old friends.* 
 
 Maria Hare to Lucy Anne Hare. 
 
 " Alton-Barnes, August 14, 1866. You can see me 
 in this dear old home, for even now, though it is thirty- 
 two years since I left it, there is little change beyond 
 one or two new cottages. There are the downs, the 
 White Horse, the primitive people, the tiny church, and 
 the rectory, still the same. You perhaps would think 
 there were few now left who remembered those old days, 
 but though on each visit I find some gaps made, we 
 gathered forty old friends to supper last night in the 
 barn. On Saturday the school children, seventy in 
 number, had their treat. 
 
 " How surely does time heal all anguish ! The sight 
 of this place now causes no pain. It seems to bring 
 back a dream of a former life, a paradisiacal life, when 
 an Adam and his Eve were walking together in that gar- 
 den, and for a very few brief years were permitted to 
 tread the path of life side by side. And as I cross the 
 fields, go down the lane, and see John Brown still in his 
 cottage, with head bent over his Bible, I could live over 
 again those past days. Then there is still the now ven- 
 
36o 
 
 RECORDS OF A Q\ 
 
 erable white head of that grand old man William Pontin, 
 who has so much to tell of God's goodness that he 
 * cannot satisfy himself with thanksgiving.' The golden 
 sheaves cover the vast plains and sides of the downs, 
 and the peaceful hamlets are, as ever, lying in the 
 valley." 
 
XVIII. 
 
 THE SUNSET BEFORE THE DAWN. 
 
 "No smile is like the smile of death, 
 When all good musings past 
 Rise wafted with the parting breath, 
 The sweetest thought the last." 
 
 Christian Year. 
 
 "XT 7"E left England for Italy for the last time on 
 * * the 2 1 st of October, 1869, after a pleasant 
 little visit to Archdeacon Harrison at Canterbury. 
 In order to evade the early snows on Mont Cenis, 
 we took the longer route through Germany, and 
 spent several days at Carlsruhe with our old and 
 kind friend Madame de Bunsen. At Verona my 
 mother was well enough to walk in the beautiful 
 Giusti Gardens, which we had so often enjoyed 
 together, and at Vicenza she found almost equal 
 enjoyment in the gardens of the Marchese Salvi, to 
 which we had admittance, and which were close to 
 our hotel. We spent a week at Vicenza, finding 
 in its lovely neighborhood quite the ideal Italy, 
 rich foregrounds of vines trailed from tree to 
 tree, and terraces of roses, with the background of 
 the peaked and snow-tipped Alps. My mother was 
 so unequal to long journeys, and so much enjoyed 
 the few sights she was still able to see, that the 
 16 
 
362 m RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 end of November only found us arrived at Pisa. 
 Though already much affected by the cold, she was 
 still so far well that I was able, to be absent from 
 her for two days at Siena and S. Gemignano. It 
 was during this time that I received her last 
 precious little letter. 
 
 Maria Hare to Augustus J. C. Hare. 
 
 " Nov. 30, half-past eight a. m. The sparrow in its 
 nest with blinking eyes tells its young one that she has 
 had a better night, only a few croaks and much sleep. 
 The parent bird hopes the dark sky will like yesterday 
 change to a bright one, and that the absent bird will 
 fly about to its heart's content and then return to the 
 shadow of her wings." 
 
 Soon after I had rejoined her at Pisa, and when 
 she was increasingly ill and suffering, a catastrophe 
 occurred which forcibly detained us for many weeks 
 afterwards. 
 
 We found a delightful apartment at Rome in No. 
 33, Via Gregoriana, but only two days after our 
 arrival my mother had a terrible fall, which stunned 
 her at the time, and from which she never entirely 
 recovered. On the 7th of February she had a 
 slight paralytic seizure, and a more severe one on 
 the 13th of March, after which she was in the 
 greatest danger for some time, and she was never 
 able to walk or to use her left side or arm again. 
 
 Augustus J. C. Hare to Miss Leycester. 
 
 " Feb. 19. The mother has rallied again to a certain 
 degree of power, but is able to do very, very little, a 
 
 
THE SUNSET BEFORE THE DAWN. 363 
 
 very few verses in the Bible is the most she can read. 
 Our lovely view is a perpetual enjoyment to her, the 
 town beneath us so picturesque in the blue indistinct- 
 ness of the morning, and St. Peter's so grand against 
 the golden sunsets." 
 
 Maria Hare to Miss Leycester. 
 
 " March 7. After going down to the bottom I am 
 slowly creeping up again, but it seems as if I should 
 never end this long winter's illness, and my weakness 
 gets more and more. Mrs Woodward is, as ever, most 
 kind to me." 
 
 Augustus J. C. Hare to Miss Leycester. 
 
 "March 26. My darling mother is now in a very 
 peaceful, happy state, no longer one of suffering, 
 which is, oh, such a rest to us ! She is now able to ar- 
 ticulate, so that I always, and others often, can under- 
 stand her. She feels painfully the great weight of the 
 useless limbs, but we are a little able to relieve this by 
 making tiny pillows of cotton wool, which support them 
 in different places. We have plenty of kind help. Mrs. 
 Woodward comes and goes constantly, and on Monday 
 night we were pleasantly surprised by the arrival of 
 Amabile from Pisa, who is quite a tower of strength to 
 us, as Lea's intense devotion and motherly tenderness 
 for her poor helpless mistress could not have kept her 
 up under the ever-increasing fatigue. I sleep on the 
 floor by mother's side, and scarcely ever leave her." 
 
 "May 15. The weather has been absolutely per- 
 fect. I never remember such weeks of hot sunshine, 
 and yet never oppressive, such a delicious bracing air 
 always. The flowers are quite glorious, and our poor 
 
364 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 people grateful as Italians always are keep the 
 sick-room constantly supplied with the loveliest roses 
 ever seen. 
 
 " But, alas, it has been a very sad week nevertheless, 
 and if I ever allowed myself to think of it, my heart 
 would sink within me. My dearest mother has been so 
 very, very suffering, in fact there have been few hours 
 free from really acute pain, and in spite of her sweet 
 patience, and her natural leaning only towards thanks- 
 giving, her wails have been most piteous, and the flesh 
 indeed a burden. . . . Dr. Grigor told Lea it was the 
 most suffering phase of paralysis, and that it usually 
 produced such dreadful impatience that he wondered at 
 her power of self-control, but from my sweetest mother 
 we never hear one word which is not of perfect patience 
 and faith and thanksgiving, though her prayers aloud 
 for patience are sometimes almost too touching for us. to 
 bear. She thinks with interest of the story of the cen- 
 turion's servant, 'grievously tormented.' She is con- 
 stantly repeating hymns, and her memory for them is 
 wonderful, indeed they are her chief occupation." 
 
 " May 26. Terrible as the gulf seems between us 
 and England, we hope to set out on Monday. Each 
 day now is a farewell. Mother has been able to go 
 several drives, and has used each of them to. see some 
 favorite place for the last time, the Coliseum, the 
 Parco di SanGregorio, the Lateran, and, last of all, 
 the grave at the cemetery of Caius Cestius. The senti- 
 nel allowed her little carriage to pass along the turf, and 
 so she reached it and took leave of it, knowing she could 
 never see it again. Many former servants and poor 
 women we have known here have begged to see her 
 once more, they all kiss her hands with tears on tak- 
 
THE SUNSET BEFORE THE DAWN. 365 
 
 ing leave, and are most of all affected by her helpless 
 state and sweet face of patience." 
 
 " Florence \ June 1. Monday was a terribly fatiguing 
 day, but mother remained in bed and was very composed, 
 only most anxious that nothing should occur to delay 
 the departure, and to prove that she was quite well 
 enough for it. At five p. m. Mrs. Woodward came and 
 sate by her while we were occupied with last prepara- 
 tions, and at six Miss F. came. At seven mother was 
 carried down, and went off in a little low carriage 
 with Mrs. Woodward and Lea, I following in a large 
 carriage with Miss F. and the luggage. There was quite 
 a collection of our humbler friends to see her off and 
 kiss hands. At the railway the poor Maria de Bonis 
 was waiting, and she and Mrs. Woodward remained 
 with mother, and had her carried straight through by 
 the side entrance to the railway coupe which was se- 
 cured for us. We felt deeply having then to take leave 
 of the kindest of friends, who has been such a comfort 
 and blessing to us, certainly, next to you, the chief 
 support of mother's later years. ' Oh, how beautiful it 
 will be when the gates which are now ajar are quite 
 open ! ' were her last words to mother. 
 
 " The carriage was most luxuriously comfortable, little 
 sofas to let down, and so much room, every appliance 
 for an invalid, nothing like it in England. Mother 
 slept a little, and though she wailed occasionally, it was 
 no worse than an ordinary night. The dawn was lovely 
 over the rich Tuscan valleys, so bright with vines and 
 corn, tall cypresses, and high villa roofs ; she quite en- 
 joyed it. She was carried straight through to a carriage 
 on arriving here, and so to the hotel." 
 
366 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 The remainder of the journey to England was 
 managed by slow stages and several days' rest in 
 the reviving air of Macon, and at last, on the 16th 
 of June, with almost as great surprise as thankful- 
 ness, we found ourselves at Holmhurst. 
 
 For some time my mother continued in such a 
 state of utter prostration from the effort she had 
 made, that she was scarcely able to notice the fact 
 of her having arrived safely in her beloved home, 
 but then she regained a certain portion of strength, 
 and for four precious months she was restored to 
 be our joy and blessing. She never recovered the 
 lost power of her limbs, but she was able almost 
 every day to be carried down to her garden, and to 
 sit for hours amongst her flowers. In her great 
 helplessness she seemed to find each hour too 
 short for her outpouring of thanksgiving, and as if 
 she was unable to see any thing but the silver lining 
 of all her clouds, so incessantly did she dwell upon 
 the abundance of her mercies, so unfailingly did 
 she rejoice in the love and beauty which surrounded 
 her. Her dear cousin, Miss Leycester, passed the 
 whole of September with her, and many loving 
 friends and nieces came in turn to cheer and com- 
 fort, and went away feeling that they themselves 
 instead were cheered and comforted. Her memory 
 seemed not only unimpaired, but intensified. She 
 could repeat the whole of the Psalms and innumer- 
 able hymns, and they seemed to soothe and help 
 her whenever her pains returned. 
 
THE SUNSET BEFORE THE DAWN. 367 
 
 Augustus J. C. Hare's Journal. 
 
 "July 11. The mother often talks to me in her 
 hymns. To-night, when I left her, she said, with her 
 lovely sweetness, * Good-night, darling, 
 
 " Go sleep like closing flowers at night, 
 And Heaven your morn will bless." ' 
 
 ' I never wish to leave you,' she said one day. * I never 
 wish for death, always remember that. I should 
 like to stay with you as long as ever I can. ... I try 
 so not to groan when you are here ; you must not grudge 
 me a few groans when you go out of the room.' " 
 
 "July 18. 'I had such a sweet dream of your aunt 
 Lucy last night. I thought we were together again, so 
 that I could speak to her, and I said, " How I do miss 
 you," and she said she was near me. I do not know if 
 I had been thinking of 
 
 11 Saints in glory perfect made 
 Wait thine escort through the shade." 
 
 I think, perhaps, I had been thinking of that.' " 
 
 "July 19. 'Yes, I know the Psalms, many in your 
 
 uncle Julius's version too. Many a time it keeps me 
 
 quiet for hours to know and repeat them. I should never 
 
 have got through my journey if I had not had so many 
 
 to repeat, to still the impatience.' " 
 
 "August 7. 'Read me the end of the Pilgrim's 
 
 Progress, about the entering upon the Land of Beulah ; 
 
 that is what I like to dwell upon.' " 
 
 "Oct. 20. 'I always think that walking through one 
 
 of the Roman picture galleries is like walking through 
 
 the Old and New Testament, with the blessed company 
 
 of apostles and martyrs by one's side.' " 
 
368 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 "Nov. 4. My mother has been almost free from pain 
 for two months, with many hours of real pleasure in the 
 flowers and sunshine. She has been up in her chair 
 daily from two to five p. m. Sometimes she has even 
 been able to write down some of her ' Ricordi.' After 
 tea I have generally read to her, concluding with a 
 chapter and some hymns. Last night I read Luke xvi. 
 and a hymn on ' Rest,' which she asked for. When I 
 was going to wish her good-night, she said, ' I do hope, 
 darling, I am not like the ungrateful lepers. I try to be 
 always praising God, but I know that I never can praise 
 Him enough for his many, many mercies to me.' I 
 could not but feel in the alarm which so soon followed, 
 if my dearest one never spoke to me again, what beauti- 
 ful last words those would have been, and how charac- 
 teristic of her ; for at two p. m. that night I was awaked 
 by the dreadful sound which has haunted me ever since 
 the night of March 12 in the Via Gregoriana. It was 
 another paralytic seizure." . . . 
 
 "Nov. 9. There is no great change, a happy, 
 painless state, the mind very feeble, all its power gone, 
 but peaceful, loving, full of patience, faith, and thank- 
 fulness." 
 
 "Nov. 16. And since I wrote last, the great, the un- 
 utterable desolation, so long looked for, so often warded 
 off, has come to me. 
 
 " On Thursday, the 10th, my mother was much better, 
 though her mind was a little feeble. I felt then, as I 
 feel a thousand times more now, how strangely mistaken 
 people were who spoke of the trial her mental feebleness 
 might be to me. It only endeared her to me a thousand- 
 fold, her gentle confidence, her sweet clinging to 
 supply the words and ideas which no longer came as 
 
THE SUNSET BEFORE THE DAWN. 369 
 
 quickly as they used, made her only more unspeakably 
 lovable. On this day I remember that she mentioned 
 several times that' she heard beautiful music : this made 
 no impression on me then. 
 
 " Friday, the 1 ith, was one of her brightest days. I 
 forget whether it was that morning or the next that my 
 darling told me she had had such a beautiful dream of 
 her childhood and of Alderley, ' and old Lady Corbet, 
 who first taught me to know what was beautiful.' 
 
 " At two p. m. she was helped up, and partly dressed, 
 and sate in her large arm-chair by the fire, with her 
 pretty old-fashioned cap on, and a nice little scarlet 
 cloak which Miss Wright had given her. She wrote a 
 little letter, and then I read to her. After her tea at 
 four o'clock, I sate at her feet, and she talked to me most 
 sweetly of all the places she had admired most in the 
 different stages of her life, of Llangollen, in her 
 childhood, and Capel Curig, and the beech-wood at 
 Alderley, of Rhianva, and of many places abroad, 
 especially Narni, and Villar in the Vaudois, of which 
 I had been making a drawing. Then she asked to 
 have one of her old journals read, and I read one of 
 Rome, and she spoke of how much happiness she had 
 enjoyed there, though she had endured much suffer- 
 ing. She spoke of the pines in the Pamfili Doria. She 
 was especially bright and sunny. I remember saying to 
 her playfully, as I sate at her feet, ' Take a little notice 
 of me, darling ; you do not take enough notice of me,' 
 and her stroking my head and saying, 'Oh, you dear 
 child ! ' and laughing. 
 
 " At six o'clock she was put to bed. Afterwards 1 
 read to her a chapter in St. Luke, ' Let this cup pass 
 from me,' and sate in the room till half-past nine ; and 
 16* x 
 
370 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 except her own tender ' good-night,' when I went down- 
 stairs then, I cannot recollect that she spoke. I remem- 
 ber looking back as I opened the door, and seeing my 
 sweet mother lying upon her side, as she always did, and 
 her dear eyes following me with a more than usually 
 tender expression as I left the room. 
 
 " When I went back again in an hour she was very 
 ill. . . . She scarcely spoke again ; and, as for all those 
 thirty-six hours which followed I never left her, they all 
 seem to me like one long terrible night. I remember 
 nothing distinctly. . . . Each hour of Saturday night I 
 became more alarmed. Towards dawn, kneeling on the 
 bed, I said the hymn, ' Nearer, my God, to thee,' and 
 some of the short prayers in the Visitation of the Sick, 
 but she was then fading rapidly, and at last I said the 
 hymn, ' How bright those glorious spirits shine,' which 
 we had agreed should only be used as the sign that I 
 k?iew that the solemn hour of our parting was surely 
 come. I think that then my darling knew this too. 
 About half-past 9 a. m. all suffering ceased. My mother, 
 whose eyes were fast closing then, fixed them upon me 
 with a long, long farewell look of her own unfathomable, 
 unsurpassable love ; then turned to Lea, then again to 
 me, and then, as I rang the bell at my elbow, and her 
 other faithful servants, in answer, passed sobbing into 
 the room, and stood at the foot of the bed, my darling, 
 my most precious mother, just when the first stroke of 
 the church-bell sounded for morning-prayers, gently, 
 very gently, with a lovely expression of intense beati- 
 tude fixed on something beyond us, gently sighed away 
 her spirit in my arms. 
 
 " When the sweet eyes closed, and the dear face lost 
 its last shadow of color, I came away. As I passed the 
 
THE SUNSET BEFORE THE DAWN. 371 
 
 window I saw the first snow-flakes fall. But she is 
 beyond the reach of winter now, snow and frost can 
 never signify any more. 
 
 " And since then her precious earthly form has been 
 lying, with her hands folded on her breast as if she were 
 praying, the dear lame hand quite supple now, and 
 softly folded upon the other. Her face has lost every 
 sign of suffering, and even of age, and her features are 
 smooth and white, as if they were chiselled in marble. 
 Her closed eyelids and sweetly curving mouth express 
 the most perfect restfulness. The room is draped with 
 white and filled with flowers. Two large camellias stand 
 at the head of the bed, making a kind of bower, beneath 
 which she lies. On the table, draped with white, are all 
 her own especial objects, her now sacred relics, her 
 bronze wolf, her little gold tray with her spectacles, 
 smelling-bottle, &c, and all her special hymn-books. 
 
 " At first I went in often in my great agony, but I did 
 
 not draw down the sheet, but now I draw it down and 
 
 look at my dearest one in her solemn, unearthly repose. 
 
 . . . This wonderful beauty is God's merciful gift to 
 
 comfort me." 
 
 I have copied these fragments from my journal 
 at the time. I could not go over that time again 
 afresh. Perhaps to others they will be of no in- 
 terest ; . . . but I will just leave them. 
 
 The funeral was on Nov. 21, at Hurstmonceaux. 
 For her, with whom every association was sunshine, 
 all the usual signs of a funeral seemed out of place. 
 
372 RECORDS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 There was no gloomy hearse, no " panoply " of grief ; 
 but her coffin, wreathed with flowers, lay in the 
 drawing-room at Hurstmonceaux Place, and thither 
 those who loved her most the children of her 
 brother and sister, with their husbands and wives, 
 and many old friends came to follow her to the 
 grave. Through the well-known lanes the precious 
 burden was carried by eighteen bearers in white 
 smock-frocks, looking (said one who saw them from 
 a distance) " like a great band of choristers," to the 
 old church on the hill-top, connected with so many 
 sacred memories. Many of the poor, who so ten- 
 derly loved her, were present in the church many 
 who had wept with and for her by the graves of her 
 lost and loved ones gone before, and laid in that 
 churchyard. 
 
 There not far from the ancient storm-beaten 
 yew-tree, beneath which Julius and Marcus are 
 buried, but more in the sunshine, on the terraced 
 edge of the churchyard, looking down upon the 
 Level, which she used to delight in as like the 
 Roman Campagna is our sacred resting-place. 
 A white marble cross marks it now. It is only 
 inscribed 
 
 Maria Hare. 
 
 Nov. 22, 1798; Nov. 13, 1870. 
 
 Until the Daybreak. 
 
 These family memorials are ended now. Nearly 
 all those who shared my mother's gentle companion- 
 
THE SUNSET BEFORE THE DAWN. 373 
 
 ship have passed away from earth, and we may 
 believe that with her they " inherit the promises." 
 
 The story of their quiet life is one which tells 
 how they were led heavenwards by no strange turn- 
 ing, but through a straight path leading through 
 various scenes, and thickly fraught, as most earthly 
 paths are, with alternate joys and sorrows. If this 
 story. shall help, guide, and comfort any after pil- 
 grims in the same common way, it will have fulfilled 
 the wishes of her who, in that hope, permitted it to 
 be written, as well as. those of the writer, her 
 most desolate son. 
 
 " Day after day, we think what she is doing, 
 In the bright realms of air ; 
 Year after year, her gentle steps pursuing, 
 Behold her grown more fair. 
 
 "Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken 
 The bond which Nature gives ; 
 Thinking that pur remembrance, tho' unspoken, 
 May reach her where she lives." 
 
 Cambridge : Press of John Wilson & Son. 
 
*4 ROBERTS BROTHERS' PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE 
 
 INTELLECTUAL LIFE. 
 
 By PHILIP GILBERT HAMERTON, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "A Painter's Camp," "Thoughts About Art," "The Un- 
 known River," "Chapters on Animals." 
 
 Square l2mo, cloth, gilt. Price $2.00. 
 
 From the Christian Union. 
 
 44 In many respects this is a remarkable book, the last and best production 
 of a singularly well balanced and finely cultured mind. No man whose life was 
 not lifted above the anxieties of a bread-winning life could have written this work ; 
 which is steeped in that sweetness and light, the virtues of which Mr. Arnold so 
 eloquently preaches. Compared with Mr. Hamerton's former writings, 'The 
 
 Intellectual Life' is incomparably his best production But above all, 
 
 and specially as critics, are we charmed with the large impartiality of the writer. 
 Mr Hamerton is one of those peculiarly fortunate men who have the inclination 
 and means to live an ideal life. From his youth he has lived in an atmosphere 
 of culture and light, moving with clipped wings in a charmed circle of thought. 
 Possessing a peculiarly refined and delicate nature, a passionate love of beauty, 
 and purity and art ; and having the means to gratify his tastes, Mr. Hamerton 
 has held himself aloof from the commonplace routine of life ; and by constant 
 study of books and nature and his fellow men, has so purified his intellect and 
 tempered his judgment, that he is able to view things from a higher platform even 
 than more able men whose natures have been soured, cramped, or influenced by 
 the necessities of a laborious existence. Hence the rare impartiality of his deci- 
 sions, the catholicity of his views, and the sympathy with which he can discuss 
 the most irreconcilable doctrines. To read Mr. Hamerton's writings is an intel- 
 lectual luxury. They are not boisterously strong, or exciting, or even very forci- 
 ble ; but they are instinct with the finest feeling, the broadest sympathies, and a 
 philosophic calm that acts like an opiate on the unstrung nerves of the hard- 
 wrought literary reader. Calm, equable, and beautiful, 'The Intellectual Life,' 
 when contrasted with the sensational and half digested clap-trap that forms so 
 large a portion of contemporary literature, reminds one of the old picture of the 
 nuns, moving about, calm and self-possessed, through the fighting and blasphem- 
 ing crowds that thronged the beleagured city." 
 
 "This book is written with perfect singleness of purpose to help others 
 towards an intellectual life," says the Boston Daily Advertiser. 
 
 " It is eminently a book of counsel and instruction," says the Boston Post. 
 
 " A book, which it seems to us will take a permanent place in literature, 
 says the New York Daily Mail. 
 
 Sold by all Booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, by the Pub- 
 lishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. 
 
Books on Art 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON. 
 
 LAOCOON : An Essay upon the Limits of Painting 
 and Poetry. With remarks illustrative of various points 
 in the History of Ancient Art. By Gotthold Ephraim 
 Lessing. Translated by Ellen Frothingham. One 
 volume, i6mo, with pictorial title, representing the La- 
 ocoon. Price $1.50. 
 
 From Lewes' s Life of Goethe. 
 
 " The incomparable little book. ... Its effect upon Goethe can only be appre- 
 ciated by those who, early in life, have met with this work, and risen from it with 
 minds widened, strengthened, and inspired. It opened a pathway amid confusion, 
 throwing light upon many of the obscurest problems which torment the artist. . . . 
 Lord Macaulay told me that the reading of this little book formed an epoch in his 
 mental history, and that he learned more about Art from it than he had ever 
 learned elsewhere." 
 
 Front the Boston Daily A dvertiser. 
 
 " We wish it were a text-book in the colleges, for, in addition to the excellence 
 of its contents, it is, in respect to its style and method, a specimen of the best sort 
 of writing." 
 
 L. C. M., in the New York Tribune. 
 
 " The essay is worthy a place in every library, since it will greatly assist any 
 intelligent reader in his comprehension and criticism of both anctent and modern 
 art ; but especially it should be studied by every poet who has a story to tell, every 
 Bculptor who would make a statue, and every painter who would paint a picture." 
 
 THOUGHTS ABOUT ART. By Philip Gilbert 
 Hamerton. New edition, revised, with Notes and an 
 Introduction. One handsome volume, uniform with Ham- 
 erton's " Intellectual Life." Price $2.00. 
 
 " Fortunate is he who, at an early age, knows what Art is." Goethe. 
 Front Lippincott s Magazine. 
 " Mr. Hamerton is a landscape painter whose eminence has been won by long 
 years of labor. He has spent season after season in the wildest parts of the Scotch 
 Highlands ; he has painted in all sorts of weather and at every degree of tempera* 
 ture, and he has overcome the difficulties of his profession by the invention of a 
 hut tor winter and a tent for summer, so admirably constructed that we long to be 
 with him while he is defying the violence of the storm and watching through his 
 broad glass window, with quick eye and ready pencil, the tempestuous pano- 
 rama before him. . . . Secure of his position, and possessing the literary facility so 
 seldom found in his craft, he has written this book to tell the world, if only it will 
 isten, how noble and serious a profession is Art-" 
 
THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF MADAME 
 
 SWETCHINE. By Count de FalloOX, 1 vol. 16mo. Price 
 $150. 
 
 THE WRITINGS OF MADAME SWETCHINE. 
 
 Edited by Count dk S alloux. 1 vol. 16mo. Price $1.25. 
 
 MADAME SWETCHINE. 
 
 BY LUCY LARCOM. 
 
 A well-written history of an excellent and gifted woman, like the ' Life and 
 Letters of Madame Swetchine," by Count de Falloux, will naturally meet with a 
 welcome among people of the truest culture. Madame Swetchine was not a 
 woman who courted publicity ; but the thread of her life was so interwoven with 
 the political and religious movements of her time, it was impossible for her to 
 escape notice. And it brightens that dark period of strife between France and 
 Russia, with which the present century opened, to follow the life-track of this 
 Russian lady, who seemed to have been equally at home in both countries. 
 
 She was intimately acquainted with the noblest men and women of that i*e- 
 markable period, and there is not one of them upon whom her friendship does not 
 cast a beautiful glow. 
 
 She was one of those rare beings who seem to have been created to draw out 
 what is best in others, by the power of sympathy and self-forgett'ulness. She was 
 a woman of uncommon intellect, and of wide reading ; and every thing she read 
 was brought to the standard of a judgment remarkably clear and penetrative 
 indeed, her conversion to the Roman Catholic faith seems to have been mostly a 
 matter of the head, a choice between the Greek and the liouian ecclcsiasticiMiis 
 Long before her decision was made, her life shows her to have been a humble and 
 earnest Christian ; and, as such, as one whose sympathies took wing higher and 
 wider than the opinions in which she had caged herself, her history has a rare value 
 
 One wonders at the amount of good accomplished by her. always a weak in- 
 valid. In order to understand how she lived, and what she did, the book must be 
 read through ; but some extracts might give a hint of it : 
 
 " She rarely gave what is called advice, an absolute solution of a given 
 problem : her humility made her shrink from direct responsibilities. She did not 
 lecture you. She did not set herself up as a model or guide. She did not say 
 ' Walk thus ; ' but sweetly. 4 Let us walk together ; ' and so, without making the 
 slightest pretensions, she often guided those she seemed to follow. Young and 
 old acknowledged her sway. She never evoked a sentiment of rivalry, because no 
 one ever detected in her a temptation to win admiration at the expense of others, 
 or to eclipse any person whatever. Her disinterestedness won pardon for her 
 superiority 
 
 4k Sick and erring hearts came and revealed themselves to Madame Swetchine 
 in all sincerity ; and she shed upon them, sweetly and gradually, light and truth 
 and life. 
 
 M In her turn she drew from this intimate intercourse, added to her own ex- 
 quisite penetration, a knowledge of the human heart which amounted almost to 
 divination. _ She knew the science of the soul as physicians know that of the body 
 
 " Her charity was not a careless and mechanical practice. She consecrated 
 to it all her strength and all her skill. Almsgiving was not, with her, the menj 
 fulfilment of a duty. She liked to give pleasure besides doing good, and her 
 heart always added something to what her hand gave." 
 
 Madame Swetchine lived a little beyond the boundaries of threescore and ten 
 It is only ten years since she died. Heaven does not ask to what communion shu 
 belonged, neither will posterity. The memory of her saintliness is a possession 
 to the church universal, in the present and in the future Such a record as hera 
 is an inspiration to all who read ; such an example, the most imperative " Go 
 thou and do likewise." 
 
 Sold by all booksellers. Mailed, postpaid, by the publishers. 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston. 
 
Messrs. Roberts Brothers' Publications, 
 
 ASPENDALE. By Harriet W. Preston. One 
 volume. i6mo. Price $1.25. 
 
 From the Boston Daily A dvertiser. 
 
 " Aspendale" is the title of an uncommon and thoroughly pleasing and interest- 
 ing book. It is neither story nor essay ; but bright, thoughtful, and suggestive 
 talk about literature and society. 
 
 By Harriet APEwen Kimball. 
 
 If we may accept as an index of growing popularity the multiplication of quiet, 
 unssusational, thoughtful, discursive, and slightly argumentative books, we may 
 belisve the public taste is being regenerated, and hence find unwonted pleasure in 
 crn.'nending to readers in general the volume now before us. " Aspendale" has 
 been styled " a story and an essay." After reading it, one makes a mental transpo- 
 sition of those words, the story being too slight for any other purpose than that of 
 sustaining the dialogues, and the essay too continuous and admirable to give place 
 in importance to the comparatively trivial incidents of the tale. The book opens 
 charmingly. The characters are delicately and clearly drawn, and one cannot but 
 think the "always harmonious" Christine, the gracious centre of the delightful 
 group, is sketched from life. 
 
 Miss Preston's style is simple, pure, forceful, leaving the impression not 
 alone of culture and refinement of no ordinary kind or degree, but of a reserved 
 strength and wealth of thought out of which companion volumes may one day 
 escape into print, as we trust they will. 
 
 John G. Saxe, in the A Ibany Journal. 
 "Aspendale," by Harriet \V. Preston, has made a decided hit, especially 
 among the literati, as an extremely clever essay, with a slight thread of narrative 
 running through its pages, on many persons and topics very pleasant to read 
 about. . . . Miss Preston has a keen and brilliant wit, a good deal of humor, 
 and never makes the mistake (so common with lady satirists) of supposing that 
 coarseness is wit, or scolding satire. Indeed, her judgment, good temper, and 
 good taste are as conspicuous in this charming little book, as her satirical acumen 
 and polished pungency of style. 
 
 From the Literary World. 
 Perhaps the keenest and most enjoyable chapter in the book is that numbered 
 V. It is one of the most direct and telling assaults on "practical aristocracy," 
 its representatives and defenders, we ever read. Oliver Wendell Holmes comes in 
 for a scoring, every tingle and smart of which his scientific knowledge of anatomy 
 will, no doubt, help him to appreciate. It has been his habit, as his many admir- 
 ers are aware, to sneer at persons of "bucolic antecedents," and to declare, in 
 mellifluous and witty phrase, that a man with red hands, rude speech, and ill-fitting 
 dress, can never enter into the most desirable heaven, which is reserved for the 
 Brahmins, of whom he, O. W. H., is the High Priest and orator. Miss Preston 
 has ventured to call him to account, and in thirty-odd strong and stinging pages 
 subjects the modern Sir Piercie Shafton to most wholesome discipline. . . . We 
 should be glad to quote much more of this energetic and dignified rebuke of 
 Boston Braiiminism, and especially to reproduce the author's tribute to Abraham 
 Lincoln, who was not a " gentleman," according to the standard of Dr. Holmes, 
 one of the finest eulogies ever pronounced upon him ; but our limits will not per- 
 mit, and we must close this notice with a simple commendation of " Aspendale," 
 as one of the brightest, freshest, heartiest, and strongest books that have been pub- 
 lished in a long time. 
 
 Sold everywhere. Mailed, postpaid, by the Publishers, 
 
 ROBERTS BROTHERS, Boston.