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 DONATION BY 
 
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 1
 
 iaemortals of 
 AGNES ELIZABETH JONES
 
 i( 
 
 UNA AND HER PAUPERS:" 
 
 BY HER SISTER. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 
 
 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 FIRST AMERICAN FROM THE SECOND LONDON EDITION. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTORY PREFACE BY THE 
 
 Rev. henry WARD BEECHER. 
 
 AND A SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER ON HOSPITAL NURSING AND 
 TRAINING IN THE UNITED STATES, BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "woman's work in the civil war." 
 
 r?<^>j^/^ 
 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, 
 
 416 BROOME STREET, NEW YORK. 
 1872.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 
 
 GEO. ROUTLEDGE & SONS, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 Poole & Maclauchlan, Printers, 
 205-313 East Twelfth Street,
 
 AC 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE, BY REV. HENRY WARD 
 
 BEECHER vii 
 
 INTRODUCTION, BY FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE . . xiv 
 
 CHAPTEB 1. 
 
 EARLY LIFE I 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 FAHAN 4-5 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 KAISERSWERTH •••••. 99 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LONDON 192 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING . • o • '• 24I 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE •••••«.. 28j
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 APPENDIX— (A.) 
 
 PAGS 
 
 ANOTHER GONE BEFORE 413 
 
 LETTER FROM MISS MYLES TO MISS JONES'S 
 
 AUNT 429 
 
 APPENDIX— (B.) 
 
 KAISERSWERTH, THE TRAINING-SCHOOL OF FLO- 
 RENCE NIGHTINGALE 435 
 
 APPENDIX— (C.) 
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING AND NURSING IN THE 
 UNITED STATES. BY THE AMERICAN EDI- 
 TOR 471
 
 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. 
 
 By Rev. HENRY WARD BEECHER. 
 
 If any one shall come to this life of Agnes 
 E. Jones, expecting to find a highly wrought 
 narrative, or any incidents in the least de- 
 gree romantic, they will be disappointed. 
 Yet there are few memoirs better calculated 
 to produce a profound impression upon all 
 who are susceptible to the exhibition of 
 remarkable Christian excellence. It is one 
 of the few books which renders piety at- 
 tractive. 
 
 Miss Jones died when but thirty-five 
 years of age, of a fever contracted in the 
 hospital service of the Liverpool Work-
 
 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. 
 
 house, of which she was the Female Su- 
 perintendent. But in these few years she 
 had developed a nature, and performed 
 labors, which, important as they were to 
 those immediately concerned, are destined 
 to produce a far wider effect upon the edu- 
 cation of women to benevolent labors. 
 
 The testimony of Florence Nightingale 
 is interesting, and the biographical work 
 of Miss Jones's sister has been judiciously 
 performed ; but the chief interest of the 
 work will be found in the letters and jour- 
 nals of Miss Jones herself. 
 
 She early felt that she had a vocation. 
 No poet or painter ever felt within them 
 the dim prophecy of their destiny in life 
 more distinctly than did this refined and 
 delicate woman. She was called to the 
 work of nursing and of training nurses. 
 That which is usually repulsive, and to the 
 most benevolent a self-denying duty, she
 
 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. IX 
 
 felt called to, as the most desirable occu- 
 pation of life. To look after the poor in 
 Fahan, her early home, to nurse the sick, 
 may be said to have been a passion from 
 her childhood. It was not the example of 
 one whose life had been overcast, whose 
 choices had been defeated, and who be- 
 took herself to works of mercy as a last 
 resort. It was her early dream. It was 
 her aspiration from childhood. She was 
 a born genius, and mercy was the sphere 
 of its action. 
 
 Hers was not a sentimental dream, full 
 of imaginative notions, which the first touch 
 of life would destroy, as the morning sun 
 melts the exquisite frost pictures which 
 night draws upon our window-panes. She 
 knew what the reality was. vShe loved the 
 thin or itself She formed the highest esti- 
 mate of its requirements, and then, as reso- 
 lutely as ever a scholar pursued his educa-
 
 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. 
 
 tion, or artist put himself in training, did 
 she set herself to a laborious course of 
 preparation. She went to Kaiserswerth, 
 in Germany, to a training institution ; 
 thence to London, to missionary work 
 among the poor; then to St. Thomas's 
 Hospital as a common nurse ; then to a 
 small hospital as manager. After years of 
 experience, she consented, but with great 
 diffidence, to assume the responsible posi- 
 tion of Superintendent in the Liverpool 
 Workhouse, having the care of from twelve 
 to fifteen hundred persons. 
 
 We have abundant evidence from her 
 writings of her profound piety. Her heart 
 flowed out toward God with singular con- 
 stancy and affectionate trust. But toward 
 men it manifested itself, not in rigor, ' 
 ascetic fidelity, or in vigorous exhortation. 
 She was joyous company, and loved what- 
 ever was gay and cheerful. She had a
 
 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. XI 
 
 keen sense of humour, and refreshed her- 
 self after severe labours by betaking her- 
 self to loving households where she could 
 freely indulge her ardent affections. 
 
 Her letters do not show such imagina- 
 tion as goes with a poet, but her sensi- 
 bility to natural scenery, her enthusiastic 
 love of flowers, and the effect produced 
 upon her, in her hospital life, from the 
 presence of ferns, blossoms, leaves, or 
 whatever grew kindly under the sun, 
 shows that she had a poet's insight of 
 nature, if she had not a poet's constructive 
 gifts. 
 
 With youth, health, culture, and suffi- 
 cient wealth, she left her home, loved as 
 only she could love it, to become a menial 
 servant in a foreign training-school, a com- 
 mon nurse in London, that she might pre- 
 pare herself to train nurses for the sick 
 and poor. The alacrity, the eagerness, the
 
 XU INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. 
 
 very gladness with which she met every 
 experience, even the most repugnant, 
 was the very spirit of her great Master, 
 " Who, /o7' the joy that was set before 
 Him, endured the cross, despising the. 
 shame." 
 
 Such an example of simplicity, cheerful- 
 ness, calm fidelity, intense activity, such 
 gentleness and diffidence, in one so clear- 
 minded and so invincibly firm in purposes 
 once formed, such lovingncss and lova- 
 bleness, such gayety playing over the sur- 
 face of intense earnestness, presents an 
 admirable type of Christian character, and 
 cannot but produce a powerful influence 
 on all who read it. 
 
 It may not be the duty of every unmar- 
 ried woman to follow in the footsteps of 
 Florence Nightingale ; but at a time when 
 so many feel the irksomeness of a com- 
 paratively inactive life, it may be that not
 
 INTRODUCTORY PREFACE. Xlil 
 
 a few, especially in our large cities, will 
 seriously consider whether they have not 
 a vocation to care for the sick and poor, or 
 whether their cultivated powers can be 
 turned to anything more Christlike than 
 to train nurses and teachers for the service 
 of the unfortunate. 
 
 '' For ye know the grace of our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, 
 yet for your sakes He became poor, 
 that ye through His poverty might be 
 rich."
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 BY FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 One woman has died — a woman^ attrac- 
 tive and rich, and young and witty ; yet a 
 veiled and silent woman, distinguished by no 
 other genius but the divine genius — working 
 hard to train herself in order to train others 
 to walk in the footsteps of Him who went 
 about doing good. To follow Him, she 
 spent herself in activity ; she overworked be- 
 cause others underwork. Shall we let her 
 have died in vain ? 
 
 She died, as she had lived, at her post, in 
 one of the largest workhouse infirmaries in
 
 INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 this kingdom — the first in which trained 
 nursing has been introduced. She is the 
 pioneer of workhouse nursing. I do not 
 give her name ! were she ahve, she would 
 bep; me not. Of all human beings I have 
 ever known, she was (I was about to say) the 
 most free from desire of the praise of men. 
 But I cannot say — most free; for she was per- 
 fectly free. She was absolutely without 
 human vanity ; she preferred being unknown 
 to all but God ; she did not let her right 
 hand know what her left hand did. I will, 
 therefore, call her Una, if you please ; for, 
 when her whole life and image rise before 
 me,, so far from thinking the story of Una 
 and her lion a myth, I say here is Una in 
 real flesh and blood — Una and her paupers, 
 far more untameable than lions. 
 
 The graceful, tender legends of Catholic 
 saints and martyrs (why call them Roman 
 Catholic ?) have not a greater miracle than
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 we have here in the flesh. She lived the life, 
 and died the death, of the saints and martyrs; 
 though the greatest sinner would not havx 
 been more surprised than she to have heard 
 this said of herself. In less than three years 
 she had reduced one of the most disorderly 
 hospital populations in the world to some- 
 thing like Christian discipline, such as the 
 police themselves wondered at. She had 
 led, so as to be of one mind and heart with 
 her, upwards of fifty nurses and probationers; 
 of whom the faithful few whom she took with 
 her of our trained nurses were but a seed. 
 She had converted a vestry to the convic- 
 tion of the economy as well as humanity of 
 nursing pauper sick by trained nurses, — the 
 first instance of the kind in England ; for 
 vestries, of whom she had almost the most 
 enlightened, the most Uberal body of men in 
 England to support her, must look after the 
 pockets of their ratepayers as well as the
 
 INTRODUCTION. XVll 
 
 benefit of their sick. But, indeed, the super- 
 stition seems now to be exploding that to 
 neglect sick paupers is the way to keep down 
 pauperism. She had converted the Poor- 
 Law Board— a body, perhaps, not usually 
 given to much enthusiasm about Unas and 
 paupers — to these views ; two of whom bore 
 v/itness to this effect. 
 
 She had disarmed all opposition, all sec- 
 tarian zealotism ; so that Roman Catholic 
 and Unitarian, High Church and Low 
 Church, all literally rose up and called her 
 " blessed." Churchwardens led the way in 
 ti^e vestry-meeting which was held in her 
 1 onour after her death ; and really affecting 
 speeches, made while moving the resolution 
 of condolence (no mere form) to her family, 
 were the tribute to her public service. All, 
 of all shades of religious creed, seemed to 
 have merged their differences in her, seeing 
 in her the one true essential thing, compared
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 with which they acknowledged their dif- 
 ferences to be as nothing. And aged paupers 
 made verses in her honour after her death. 
 
 In less than three years — the time generally 
 given to the ministry on earth of that Saviour 
 whom she so earnestly strove closely to fol- 
 low — she did all this. She had the graceful- 
 ness^ the wit, the unfailing cheerfulness — 
 quaUties so remarkable but so much over- 
 locked in our Saviour's life. She had the 
 aisence of all asceticism, or "mortification/* 
 for mortification's sake, which characterized 
 His work, and any real work in the present 
 day as in His day. And how did she do all 
 this ? She was not, when a girl, of any con- 
 spicuous abihty, except that she had culti- 
 vated in herself to the utmost a power of 
 getting through business in a short time, 
 without slurring it over and without fid-fad- 
 ding at it ; real business — her Father's busi- 
 ness. She was always filled with the thought
 
 INTRODUCTION. XIX 
 
 that she must be about her '' Father's busi- 
 ness." How can any undervakie business- 
 habits ? as if anything could be done with- 
 out them. She could do, and she did do, 
 more of her Father's business in six hours 
 than ordinary women do in six months, or 
 than most of even the best women do in six 
 days. But, besides this and including this, 
 she had trained herself to the utmost — she 
 was always training herself; for this is no 
 holiday work. Nursing is an art ; and, if it 
 is to be made an art, requires as exclusive a 
 devotion, as hard a preparation, as any 
 painter's or sculptor's work ; for what is the 
 having to do with dead canvas or cold marble, 
 compared with having to do with the living 
 body — the temple of God's spirit? It is 
 one of the Fine Arts ; I had almost said, the 
 finest of the Fine Arts. I have seen some- 
 where in print that nursing is a profession to 
 be followed by the "lower middle-class."
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Shall we say that painting or sculpture is a 
 profession to be followed by the *' lower 
 middle-class " ? Why limit the class at dl ? 
 Or shall we say that God is only to be served 
 in His sick by the " lower middle-class " : 
 The poorest child without shoes, the most 
 highly-born, have alike followed all these 
 professions with success, have alike had to 
 undergo the hardest work, if for success. 
 There is no such thing as amateur art; there 
 is no such thing as amateur nursing.* 
 
 * It appears to be the most futile of all distinctions 
 to classify as between '^ paid" and unpaid art, so between 
 "paid" and unpaid nursing — to make into a test a 
 circumstance as adventitious as whether the hair is black 
 or brown, viz., whether people have private means or 
 not, whether they are obliged or not to work at the'r 
 art or their nursing for a livelihood. Probably no 
 person ever did that well wdiich he did only for money. 
 Certainly no person ever did that well wdiich he did 
 not work at as hard as if he did it solely for money. If 
 by amateurs in art or in nursing are meant those who 
 take it up for play, it is not art at all, it is not nursing
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXI 
 
 I return to the training which this servant 
 of God gave herself. 
 
 Before she came to us she had been at 
 Kaiserswerth, and already knew more than 
 most hospital matrons know when they 
 undertake matronship. She was some time 
 with the Bible Women in London. Over- 
 done with cares and business, I had lost 
 sight of her, when I was taken by surprise 
 at hearing from our training-school at St. 
 Thomas's Hospital that she had asked for 
 admittance there to have a year's training, a 
 step entirely unprompted by us. She told 
 me afterw^ards that she felt, when she had 
 entered there, as if she knew nothing. 
 While there she went through all the train- 
 ing of a nurse. Her reports of cases were 
 admirable as to nursing details. She was 
 our best pupil; she went through all the 
 
 at all. You never yet made an artist by paying him 
 well. But — an artist ought to be well paid.
 
 xxn INTRODUCTION. 
 
 work of a soldier ; and she thereby fitted 
 herself for being the best general we ever 
 had. 
 
 Many a time, in her after hfe at the work- 
 house, she wrote^ that without her training 
 at St. Thomas's Hospital she could have 
 done nothing. Unless a superintendent 
 herself knows what the nurses she has to 
 superintend ought to do, she is always at a 
 loss. She is never sure of her work. She 
 must be herself the measure of their work. 
 In a workhouse, she said, this must be pre- 
 eminently the case — more even than in a 
 hospital — because on a workhouse-infirmary 
 matron fall many more of the decisions as 
 to petty miedical matters than on a London 
 hospital matron, where the medical and 
 surgical staff are much more numerous and 
 constant. 
 
 " Without a regular hard London hospital 
 training I should have been ' nowhere,' " she 
 used to say.
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXIU 
 
 She was fond of telling her obligations to 
 our admirable matron at St. Thomas's Hos- 
 pital. I need, however, but to recall one 
 thing. This very year that she was taken 
 from us she had intended to have " two 
 months more training" at St. Thomas's 
 Hospital as soon as she could safely take " a 
 holiday" — (what a holiday!) — after three 
 weeks with her dear mother and sister. She 
 said she should learn " so much " now, hav- 
 ing won her experience, if she had " a little 
 more training." 
 
 Dear fellow country-women, if any of you 
 are unwilling to leave a loved and happy 
 home, if any of you are unwilling to give up 
 a beloved daughter or sister, know that this 
 servant of God had a home as fair and happy 
 as any, which she loved beyond all created 
 things, ahd that her mother and sister gave 
 her up to do God's w^ork. Upon the awful 
 character of that sacrifice I cannot speak. 
 They " gave her" (and it) " to God."
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I will return to her work at the workhouse. 
 How did she do it all ? She did it simply 
 by the manifestation of the hfe which was in 
 her — the trained, well-ordered hfe of doing 
 her Father's business — so different from the 
 governing, the ordering about, the driving 
 principle. And everybody recognized it — • 
 the paupers, and the vestry, and the nurses, 
 and the Poor-Law Board. As for the nurses 
 (those who understood her), her influence 
 with them was unbounded. They w^ould 
 have died for her. Because they always felt 
 that she cared for them, not merely as 
 instruments of the work, but for each one in 
 herself; not because she wished for popu- 
 larity or praise among them, but solely for 
 their own well-being. She had no care for 
 praise in her at all. But (or rather because 
 of this) she had a greater power of carrying 
 her followers with her than any woman (or 
 man) I ever knew. And she never seemed
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXV 
 
 to know, that she was doing anything re- 
 markable. 
 
 It seems unnatural that I should be writ- 
 ing her " In Memoriam," I who have been 
 a prisoner to my room from illness for years, 
 and she so full of health and vigour till 
 almost the last. Within sixteen days of her 
 death I received a letter from her, full of all 
 her own energy about workhouse affairs, and 
 mentioning her illness, which had begun, 
 but bidding me " not be anxious." But this 
 is not an ^' In Memoriam," it is a war-cry — - 
 a war-cry such as she would have bid me 
 write ; a cry for successors to fill her plaec 
 to fill up the ranks. 
 
 Oh, fellow country-women, why do you 
 hang back ? Why are there so few of you?. 
 We hear so much of " idle hands and unsa- 
 tisfied hearts," and nowhere more than in 
 England. All England is ringing with the 
 cry for ''Women's Work" and "Women's
 
 XXVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Mission." Why are there so few to do the 
 " work ?" We used to hear of people giving 
 their blood for their country. Since when 
 is it that they only give their ink ? We now 
 have in England this most extraordinary 
 state of things — England, who is, or thinks 
 herself, the most religious and the most 
 commercial country in the world. New 
 hospitals, new asylums, new nurses' homes, 
 arid societies for nursing the sick poor at 
 home, are rising everywhere. People are 
 always willing to give their money for these. 
 The Poor-Law Board, the Boards of Guar- 
 dians, are willing, or compelled, to spend 
 money for separate asylums for workhouse 
 sick. An Act was passed last year for the 
 metropoUs to this effect. It is proposed to 
 extend it to the whole country. This Act, 
 akhough miserably inadequate, still inaugu- 
 rates a new order of things, viz., that the 
 workhouse sick shall not be workhouse
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXVU 
 
 inmates, not be cared for as mere workhouse 
 inmates, but that they shall be poor sick, 
 cared for as sick who are to be cured, if 
 possible, and treated as becomes a Christian 
 country, if they cannot be cured. But are 
 buildings all that are necessary to take care 
 of the sick ? There wants the heart and the 
 hand — the trained and skilful hand. Every 
 workhouse and other hospital in the king- 
 dom ought to be nursed by such hands and 
 such hearts. Tell me, does not this seem 
 like a truism ? 
 
 What we mean by challenging England, 
 if she is the most religious and the most 
 commercial country in the world, to do this 
 work, is this : We do not say, as in Roman 
 Catholic countries, the test of fitness to serve 
 God in this way is whether he has given you 
 private means sufficient to do it without pay. 
 We say : the test is, whether you will be 
 trained so as to command the highest pay.
 
 XXVlll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 May we not hope that in this country our 
 Lord, were He to come again, would say, 
 instead of "Ye cannot serve God and Mam- 
 mon," — Ye can by serving God command 
 that mammon necessary for the workers 
 who must also eat — themselves and their 
 families. 
 
 Let the religious motive be so strong that 
 it will enable you to train yourself so as to 
 earn the highest pay for the best work. The 
 pay is offered ; it is the trained workers we 
 cannot find to be paid. 
 
 Thirty years ago, if a girl wished for 
 training, there was none to be had. I can 
 truly say there was no training to be had to 
 fit a woman thoroughly for any life whatever. 
 Now the training is offered, there 'are but 
 few to take it. 
 
 We do not say, as vv^.s said to women 
 in my day, Look about you, and see 
 if you can catch painfully a few straws of
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXIX 
 
 practical experience or knowledge in the 
 wind. We are not now inviting women to 
 a life, without being able to show— Here is 
 the training all ready, if you choose to have 
 it — here is an independent and well-paid 
 calling wanting to receive you when you 
 leave your training, if only you have fitted 
 yourselves for it. I might say more than 
 this ; I might say w^e are beset with offers of 
 places for trained nurses afid trained superin- 
 tendents, and we cannot fill them. I would 
 I could go out into the highways and hedges, 
 and compel them to come in. How often I 
 have known Pastor Fliedner, of Kaiserswerth, 
 (he is now gone to his glorious rest,) say, 
 when thus pressed by calls from pastors, and 
 from directors of institutions, out of all parts 
 of Germany, " You ask me for deaconesses. 
 Has your district furnished us with any 
 probationers ? No ; not one. Then, am I 
 to give you the finished article, and you not
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to give me the live material r Am I to raise 
 deaconesses out of the ground by a stamp of 
 the foot ?" That is what we, alas ! feel often 
 inclined to say when we are pressed from all 
 parts of Her Majesty's dominions, colonies 
 included, in that great empire " upon which 
 the sun never sets." 
 
 I have spoken chiefly of workhouse hos- 
 pitals, and their want of trained nurses and 
 trained superintendents, because I had to 
 describe the work of her who was the first 
 to try to fill the deep yawning chasm, but 
 not, Hke Curtius, to close it up — and because 
 it seemed the most crying want. But why 
 do I call it so ? To answer the calls upon 
 us for trained matrons or superintendents, 
 as well as for trained nurses, for hospitals, 
 and nursing institutions of all kinds, we can 
 scarcely obtain anything like sufficient living 
 materials. By all who have really laboured 
 in these and similar fields the same tale is
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXXI 
 
 told. People cry out and deplore the unre- 
 munerative employment for women. The 
 true want is the other way. Women really 
 trained, and capable for good work, can 
 command any wages or salaries. We can't 
 get the women. The remunerative employ- 
 ment is there, and in plenty. The want is 
 the women fit to take it. 
 
 It is wonderful (to return to our own case 
 of the hospitals) the absence of thought 
 which exists upon this point. As if a 
 woman could undertake hospital manage- 
 ment, or the management of a single ward — • 
 in which, more than anything else, hundreds, 
 or even thousands, of lives are involved — ■ 
 without having learnt anything about it, any 
 more than a man can undertake to be, for 
 example, professor of mathematics without 
 having learnt mathematics ! 
 
 It is time to come to the dry bones of the 
 affair after having shown how beautifully
 
 XXXll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 these could be clothed in flesh and blood. 
 We admit at St. Thomas's Hospital Training 
 School ^ — subject to the judgment of the 
 
 * Writers on sick nursing have repudiated training, 
 without saying .what training is. I perceive that I have 
 used the word '^training" a great many times. And 
 neither have I said what it is. 
 
 We require that a woman be sober, honest, truth- 
 ful, without which there is no foundation on which to 
 build. 
 
 We train then in habits of punctuality, quietness, 
 trustworthiness, personal neatness. We' teach her how 
 to manage the concerns of a large ward or establish- 
 ment. 
 
 We train her in dressing wounds and other injuries, 
 and in performing all those minor operations which 
 nurses are called upon day and night to undertake 
 
 We teach her how to manage helpless patients in 
 regard to moving, changing, feeding, temperature, and 
 the prevention of bed-sores. 
 
 She has to make and apply bandages, line splints 
 for fractures, and the like, She must know how to 
 ir.ake beds with as little disturbance as possible to their 
 inmates. She is instructed how to wait at operations, 
 and as to the kind of aid the surgeon requires at her
 
 NTRODUCTION XXXlll 
 
 matron, and subject to certain conditions 
 being accepted or fulfilled by the probationer 
 — a limited number of probationers to be 
 
 hands. She is taught cooking for sick ; the principles 
 on which sick-wards ougiit to be cleansed, aired, and 
 warmed ; the management of convalescentS3 and how 
 to observe sick and maimed patients, so as to give an 
 intelhgent and truthful account to the physic^ian or 
 surgeon in regard to the progress of cases in the 
 intervals between visits — a much more difficult thing 
 than is generally supposed. 
 
 We do not seek to make " medical women," but 
 simply nurses acquainted with the principles which 
 tliey are required constantly to apply at the bed- 
 side. 
 
 For the future superintendent is added a course of 
 instruction in the administration of a hospital, including, 
 of course, the linen arrangements, and what else is 
 necessary for a matron to be conversant with. 
 
 There are those who think that all this is intuitive in 
 women, that they are born so, or, at least, that it comes 
 to them without training. To such we say. By all 
 means send us as many such geniuses as you can, for 
 we are sorely in want of them. 
 
 The regulations and previous information required
 
 XXXIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 trained as nurses for the sick poor. Hither- 
 to we have been compelled to confine our- 
 selves to sending out staffs of nurses to 
 hospitals or workhouses, with a view to 
 their becoming, in their turn, centres of 
 training, because the applications Vv^e receive 
 for trained nurses are far more numerous and 
 urgent than we have power to answer. But 
 did a greater number of probationers, suit- 
 able for superior situations, ofier themselves, 
 we could provide additional means for train- 
 ing, and answer applications for district 
 nurses, and many others. These pro- 
 bationers receive board, lodging, training 
 entirely free, a certain amount of uniform 
 dress, and a small amount of pay during 
 their year of training. 
 
 may be obtained by writing to the Secretary of the 
 Nightingale Fund, H. Bonham-Carter, Esq., 91, 
 Gloucester Terrace, Hyde Park, London, W. 
 
 Before admission, personal application should be made 
 to Mrs. Wardroper, St. Thomas's Hospital, Newington, 
 Surrey, S.E.
 
 NTRODUCTION. XXXV 
 
 For the efficiency, comfort, and success of 
 a nursing staff thus sent ojat it is, of course, 
 essential that the trained nurses should not 
 go without the trained superintendent, nor 
 the trained superintendent without the 
 trained nurses. 
 
 There are two requisites in a superinten- 
 dent: — I. Character and business capacity. 
 2. Training and knowledge. Without the 
 second, the first is of little avail. Without 
 the first, the second is only partially useful ; 
 for we cannot bring out of a person what is 
 not in her. We can only become respon- 
 sible for the training. The other qualifications 
 can only be known by trial. Now to take su- 
 perintendents or head nurses, as is done every 
 day, by receiving and comparing of testi- 
 monials (not a day's Times but shows this 
 process in the vast majority of institutions) — 
 this is hardly more to the purpose than to 
 do as the Romans did, when they determined
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the course of conduct they should take by 
 seeing whether there were a flight of crows. 
 
 The future superintendent would be a 
 great deal the better for two years of training 
 for so difficult and responsible a post. But 
 such are the calls upon us that we can often 
 give her scarcely one. 
 
 If the lady, in training for a superintendent, 
 can pay for her own board, it is, of course, 
 right that she should do so (everything else is, 
 in all cases, given free). At the present time 
 we are able to admit a few gentlewomen free 
 of all expense, and with the small salary 
 above mentioned during the year of training. 
 We have applications from institutions in 
 want of trained superintendents (or matrons), 
 and trained head nurses for hospitals in 
 India and in England, and for a large work- 
 house infirmary. 
 
 In December we sent to New South 
 Wales, by desire of the government there, 
 which defrayed and assumed all expenses, to
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXXVII 
 
 take charge of the Sydney Infirmary and to 
 found a future training-school for the colony, 
 five trained nurses and a trained lady super- 
 intendent.* 
 
 I give a quarter of a century's European 
 experience when I say that the happiest 
 people, the fondest of their occupation, the 
 most thankful for their lives, are, in my 
 
 *■ The engagement was for three years. First-class 
 passages out, all paid. 
 
 The pay now usually given in English hospitals for 
 trained nurses is from .5^20 to ^30 a year, with every- 
 thing " found j" for hospital, i.e. ward '^sisters," in 
 some London hospitals ^50, with like advantages ; 
 and for matrons or superintendents in provincial 
 hospitals from s£6o to ,^100, with board and 
 lodging. 
 
 The salaries given to the nursing staff sent to Sydney 
 were on a more liberal scale. 
 
 A wing is being added to the infirmary of Sydney 
 for the accommodation of the future superintendent, 
 nurses, and probationers, the most complete and 
 costly thing which has ever been erected for a nursing 
 statF, and which puts to shame our London hospital 
 in this respect.
 
 XXXVlll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 opinion, those engaged in sick nursing. In 
 my opinion, it is a mere abuse of words to 
 represent the life, as is done by some, as a 
 sacrifice and a miartyrdom. But there have 
 been martyrs in it. The founders and 
 pioneers of almost everything that is best 
 must be martyrs. But these are the last 
 ever to think themselves so. And for all 
 there must be constant self-sacrifice for the 
 o-ood of all. But the distinction is this — • 
 the life is not a sacrifice ; it is the engaging 
 in an occupation the happiest of any. But 
 the strong, the healthy wills in any life must 
 determine to pursue the common good at 
 any personal cost — at daily sacrifice. And we 
 must not think that any fit of enthusiasm 
 will carry us through such a life as this. 
 Nothing but the feeUngthat it is God's work 
 more than ours — that w^e are seeking His 
 success and not our success — and that we 
 have trained and fitted ourselves by every
 
 INTRODUCTION. XXXIX 
 
 means which He has granted us to carry out 
 His work, will enable us to go on. 
 
 Three-fourths of the whole mischief in 
 w^omen's lives arises from their excepting 
 themselves from the rules of training con- 
 sidered needful for men. 
 
 And even with this thorough training, we 
 shall have many moments of doubt, of dread, 
 of discouragement. But yet the very pres- 
 sure of the work, of which the cares are so 
 heavy, prevents us from having time to dwell 
 on them. 
 
 The work has great consolations. It has 
 also great disappointments, like every other 
 noble work where you aim high ; and if 
 there has been one thing expressed to me 
 more often and more strongly by her we 
 have lost, it is what I have tried to say 
 above. 
 
 I must end as I have begun, with my 
 Una.
 
 Xl INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I cannot say in my weak words, what she 
 used to tell as to her questionings : ^^ Shall 
 I be able ever to meet the dreariness, the 
 disappointments, the isolation?" And the 
 answer, " Not in my own strength, but in 
 His ; not for my work's sake, but for His.'* 
 " My grace is sufficient for thee. My strength 
 is made perfect in thy weakness." That 
 answer of God to St. Paul, she realized in 
 her daily life more than any one I ever 
 knew 
 
 She was peculiarly sensitive to little acts 
 and words of kindness, and also of unkind- 
 ness ; and if a nosegay, a friendly letter came 
 to her in her times of overwork and dis- 
 couragement, she would take it exactly as if 
 it had been sent her by her Father Himself. 
 ^' I do not say to Him, Give success,'' she 
 once said ; " if all fails to human eyes, if I 
 do nothing, ^ not my way, but His be done ; 
 not as I will, but as Thou wilt.' " 
 
 C
 
 INTRODUCTION. x]i 
 
 More completely and unreservedly than 
 any one I ever knew, she gave herself: *' Be- 
 hold the handmaid of the Lord, be it unto 
 me according to thy word." 
 
 And it was so. What she went through 
 during her workhouse life is scarcely known 
 but to God and to one or two. Yet she said 
 that she had " never been so happy in all her 
 life." 
 
 All the last winter she had under her 
 charge above 50 nurses and probationers, 
 above 150 pauper scourers, from 1,290 to 
 1,350 patients, being from two to three 
 hundred more than the number of beds. All 
 this she had to provide for and arrange for, 
 often receiving an influx of patients without 
 a moment's warning, She had to manage 
 and persuade the patients to sleep three and 
 four in two beds ; sometimes six, or even 
 eight children had to be put in one bed ; 
 and being asked on one occasion whether
 
 xlii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 they did not "kick one another," they 
 answered, " Oh, no, ma'am, we're so com- 
 for ble." Poor httle things ! they scarcely 
 remembered ever to have slept in a bed 
 before. But this is not the usual run of 
 workhouse patients. Among them are the 
 worn-out old prostitutes, the worn-out old 
 thieves, the worn-out old drunkards. 
 
 Part of the w^ork in workhouses is to see 
 that the dissolute and desperate old sinners 
 do not corrupt the younger women, fallen, 
 but not hopeless ; to persuade the deliriinn 
 tremens case, wandering about in his shirt, to 
 go back quietly into his ward and his bed. 
 Part of the work is to see that the mothers 
 of the sick children do not quarrel, ay, and 
 fight, and steal the food of one another's 
 children. 
 
 These are among the every-day incidents 
 of workhouse life. And, if any one would 
 know what are the lowest depths of human
 
 INTRODUCTION. xliii 
 
 vice and misery, would see the festering mass 
 of decay of living human bodies and human 
 souls, and then would try what one loving 
 soul, filled with the spirit of her God, can do 
 to let in the light of God into this hideous 
 well (worse than the well of Cawnpore), to 
 b"nd up the wounds, to heal the broken- 
 hearted, to bring release to the captives — let 
 her study the ways, and follow in the steps 
 of this one young, frail woman, who has died 
 to show us the way — blessed in her death as 
 in her life. 
 
 If anything ought to nerve the official 
 crowd of the Poor-Law Board, and us women 
 on the non-official side, to resolve on fighting 
 this holy crusade, until all the sick poor of 
 these kingdoms are cared for as children of 
 God, it is surely the fact that so precious a 
 life has been sacrificed in discharging a duty 
 which, if the country had recognised it as a 
 duty, ought to have been unnecessary after 
 three centuries of a Poor Law.
 
 xliv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The last words spoken to her were^ " You 
 will soon be with your Saviour." Her reply 
 was, " I shall be well there." And so she 
 passed away. In her coffin she had that 
 listening, beaming expression, peculiar to 
 her in life, as if always hearkening to the 
 Master's bidding — in death, as if hearing the 
 words, ^^ Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 Years of previous action had prepared this 
 young girl for her hfe of devotion. Her 
 body was taken back to her own people, to 
 be buried in her father's vault. 
 
 All the old folks went out to meet her — 
 old men and women of near ninety years of 
 age who could scarcely move on crutches. 
 The young men who had been her own 
 scholars in her big boys' evening class, went 
 a distance to meet the funeral, and carried in 
 the coffin themselves. The school-children 
 and school-mistresses gathered primroses and 
 snowdrops and violets from all the country
 
 INTRODUCTION. xlv 
 
 round, and brought these, and yew and ivy 
 from the garden which she had planted for 
 them herself. The whole district seemed to 
 be there — at the grave of their dear one. 
 But the hush of solemn silence was so great 
 that they could hear the fall of the violets 
 on the coffin. The grave was surrounded, 
 first by rows of school-children — behind 
 them, on one side the young vs'omen, on the 
 other the young men of her Bible classes— 
 and behind these again the elder women and 
 men with whom she had read and prayed. 
 She lay, after the service, completely strewn 
 over with primroses and snowdrops showered 
 upon her coffin. After all was over the 
 school-children and mistresses sent a messag-e 
 to her poor sick paupers, that they would be 
 glad to hear that their kind friend had been 
 as gently laid in her grave as an infant laid 
 to rest in its mother's arms. 
 
 It is proposed to erect on the spot where
 
 Xlvd INTRODUCTION. 
 
 she died perhaps the grandest religious statue 
 ever sculptured by mortal hands — Tenerani's 
 Angel of the Resurrection — as a fitting 
 memorial of her work, and a type of the 
 hope to come. Shall we not also build up 
 living statues to her? Let us add living 
 flowers to her grave, 'Milies with full hands," 
 — not fleeting primroses, not dying flowers. 
 Let us bring the work of our hands, and oui 
 heads, and our hearts, to finish her work 
 which God has so blessed. Let her not 
 merely " rest in peace," but let hers be the 
 life which stirs up to fight the good fight 
 against vice and sin, and misery and wretch- 
 edness, as she did — the call to arms, which 
 she was ever obeying : 
 
 "The Son of God goes forth to war^ 
 Who follows in His train ?'* 
 
 O daughters of God, are there so few to 
 answer? 
 
 FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE.
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 " Now in thy youth beseech of Him 
 
 Who giveth upbraiding not, 
 That His light in thy heart become not dim 
 
 And His love be unforgot; 
 And thy God in thy darkest days shall be 
 Greenness and beauty and strength to thee." 
 
 THE use of biography, and especially Chris- 
 tian biography, is often questioned, and to 
 some minds there is little if any interest in 
 tracing the history of a life that has passed 
 away, except as it is recorded in the work 
 accomplished and the mark left upon the age. 
 But there are others for whom this little book 
 is specially intended, — friends who knew and 
 loved the subject of this memoir, who will read 
 with tender affection the story of her early life, 
 and trace the leadings of God's hand in every 
 step of the path she trod ; and others who did 
 not know her, but to whom the life of any 
 
 B
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 Christian woman — loving, tender, brave, and 
 earnest as this woman was — will have no small 
 interest. For these we have traced dimly and 
 most imperfectly, not a cold form of marble 
 beauty, but a portrait of real life in the quiet of 
 the domestic circle, in the unexciting duties of 
 a remote country parish, in the crowded courts 
 and alleys of London, and in the wards of city 
 hospitals, ever seeking to do her Father's busi- 
 ness and to please Him in all things. 
 
 My sister, Agnes Elizabeth Jones, was born 
 at Cambridge, November the loth, 1832, our 
 father, who was Lieutenant-Colonel of the 12th 
 regiment, having been ordered there a few days 
 previously. Our mother's eldest sister, who 
 was present at her birth, and who alone of all 
 her relatives was with her in her last moments, 
 writes of this time : — ** When the tiny creature 
 made her unexpected appearance there was but 
 little hope of a vigorous life ; her father was 
 absent with his regiment, which had been sud- 
 denly ordered off to some town where disturb- 
 ances were feared, and on his return his tender 
 heart was much touched by the sight of the
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 fragile little beini^ : he had faint expectation of 
 her surviving, and ardently desired that she 
 should be baptized, which was done privately 
 by the Rev. C. Simeon's curate ; she was after- 
 wards received into the Church at Portsmouth, 
 where the regiment next proceeded. She had 
 many infantine illnesses, and continued very 
 delicate until she was nearly two years old, 
 when she was taken on a visit to Ireland, the 
 native country of both her parents, and at her 
 maternal grandfather's spent several months, 
 growing healthy and strong in the pure coun- 
 try air. She was now a very pretty child, with 
 that brightness of eye which was ever one of her 
 most striking features, sunny curling hair, and 
 a light dancing step, full of joyous life. At 
 this time she was occasionally violently pas- 
 sionate, but at no later period can any instance 
 of this be remembered." 
 
 On the i2th August, 1837, -sve sailed with my 
 father's regiment from Cork for I^Iauritius. 
 The six years spent there were very happy ones 
 to the bright little child, and vivid men\ories 
 would often arise in alter years of the birthday 
 
 D 3
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 excursions to the Pampelmousse gardens, where 
 many beautiful palm-trees and rare tropical 
 plants grew in native luxuriance, and of the 
 pleasant months spent by the seaside at Mahe- 
 bourg, where wonderful shells with rosy tints 
 and pearly lining were now and then the prize 
 of the eager searcher. Even at this time the 
 love of nature was one of her characteristics. 
 I remember, on one of those long happy days 
 at the botanical gardens, her rapture at finding 
 a skeleton leaf, whose delicate tracery seemed 
 to her eye, with its quick perception of the 
 beautiful, a most marvellous treasure. Long 
 afterwards she would recall the scenery of the 
 island with a distinctness which proved how 
 deep an impression its southern loveliness had 
 left on her memory. And meanwhile, circum- 
 stances were moulding her character for the 
 steadfastness of self-consecration which in after 
 life distinguished her. No recollection of those 
 early days comes back to me so often as her 
 pleasure in accompanying our parents to the 
 Bible readings held at the house of the French 
 pastor; Monsieur Le Brun. Some years after-
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 wards she wrote, *'I think my first real concern 
 for my soul was awakenecf by the closing sen- 
 tence of young M. Le Brun's sermon, one 
 week-day evening. * And now, brethren, if you 
 cannot answer me, how will you, at the last 
 day, answer the Great Searcher of hearts ?' 
 This sentence haunted me night and day for 
 some time." 
 
 Here, too, she became interested in the 
 Madagascar Christians, then suffering cruel 
 persecutions for conscience' sake. Some of 
 them took refuge at Mauritius, and her delight 
 at being taken to visit them was very great. 
 At M. Le Brun's she heard much of those still 
 undergoing oppression and torture, letters being 
 often received from Mr. Johns and his wife. 
 From this time a desire for missionary work 
 took possession of her mind. The extreme 
 reserve of her disposition prevented this 
 being generally known, but from the time she 
 was seven years old the dream of her life was 
 to be one day a missionary. The wish, as she 
 then formed it, for work among the heathen 
 was never granted, but truly her whole life was
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 a missionary work. In a paper of recollections 
 of her early childhood she writes, "I remember 
 always having great love for any one I thought 
 one of God's children. I loved going to church 
 and listening to serious conversation. I was 
 very fond of Mr. Banks and Mr. Fitzgerald 
 because I thought they were true Christians." 
 
 In 1843 our father's health obliged him to 
 return to England, and not long after he left 
 the army. The voyage home was a time of 
 great enjoyment to us children, though from 
 many circumstances it was very uncomfortable 
 for our parents. A storm that was encountered 
 a few days before entering the English Channel 
 caused the lives of all on board to be in peril 
 for some hours, but we were unconscious of the 
 danger and enjoyed the unusual scene — the 
 dead lights in, — lamps burning all day in the 
 darkened cabin, and furniture and boxes slip- 
 ping from side to side as the vessel rolled 
 heavily. At last the storm moderated, and 
 holding our father's hand, we were allowed to 
 venture on deck. At that moment an upturned 
 boat was drifted past on a huge green wave,
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 which curled over as if it would engulf the 
 vessel. For the first time we seemed to realize 
 what danger we had been in, and returned, 
 silent and awed, to our mother's side. A fev/ 
 days later the pilot, who came on board off 
 Land's End, brought English papers, one of 
 which contained a graphic account of a ship- 
 wreck that had taken place in that very storm. 
 My father read this to us, and then asked us 
 very solemnly where should we have been had 
 not God in His mercy spared our vessel when 
 others were lost. The question struck home to 
 our hearts, and that evening both, with many 
 tears and earnest prayers, desired to choose 
 God as our portion. The impression then made 
 appeared transient, but the feelings excited 
 never wholly died away. It was the first call, 
 which in loving mercy was repeated again and 
 again until the wandering heart turned to its 
 only true rest in the love of the Redeemer. 
 
 The voyage was over, and English sights and 
 sounds excited wonder and delight in us child- 
 ren, to whom everything was new. We went 
 almost immediately to my grandfather's country
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 home in the north of Ireland. I seem to see 
 Agnes now, as she bounded along the lanes, 
 the day of our arrival at Ardmore, filling her 
 little basket with violets and primroses, — new 
 flowers to her then, but which had ever a pecu- 
 liar charm for her. Our dear mother was 
 greatly exhausted by the climate of Mauritius, 
 and for a long time was in very delicate health. 
 This prevented her continuing the care of our 
 education, which had hitherto been entirely in 
 her hands. About this time a phrenologist, 
 who was passing through the neighbourhood, 
 examined Agnes's head, and, after doing so, said 
 to her, " Take care, my little lady ; this strong 
 will of yours may lead you into great faults." 
 On my mother questioning him further, he 
 said, *' Don't be uneasy, religion and love to 
 her parents will be the ruling principles of her 
 life." And, indeed, it was so, for, notwith- 
 standing the extraordinary power of will which 
 enabled her in after years to deny herself and 
 control others in such a wonderful way, there 
 was never, after early infancy, the slightest op- 
 position of her will to that of her parents. Yet
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 instances were not wanting in her childhood to 
 show her strength of resolve and her determi- 
 nation in carrying out a purpose once formed. 
 Two examples of this may be given. — at Mau- 
 ritius, when she was about eight years old, a 
 friend sent her a present of a young kangaroo 
 from Australia ; an enclosure was made for it 
 in the garden, and Agnes delighted to feed and 
 visit it daily. One day as she opened the gate 
 it escaped and bounded off into our neighbour's 
 plantation. Agnes followed, fearing it might 
 do mischief, climbed over the low wall which 
 separated the two gardens, and, after a long 
 chase, succeeded in capturing the fugitive ; 
 some minutes afterwards my mother came into 
 the garden, and was horror-struck to see her 
 returning from the pursuit, the kangaroo, which 
 she held bravely by its ears, struggling wildly 
 for freedom and tearing at her with its hind 
 feet, while her dress was streaming with blood 
 from the wounds inflicted by its nails. Mamma 
 called to her to let it go, but she would not do 
 so until she got it safely into its house, although 
 it was many a long day before she lost the
 
 10 EARLY LIFE, 
 
 marks of her battle and victory. Another in- 
 stance of the same fixed resolve, whatever she 
 might have to suffer in carrying it out, occurred 
 some years later when she was about fourteen. 
 My father was extremely fond of music, and 
 very anxious that we should play well. Agnes 
 had no taste for it, and it cost her much trouble 
 to learn the simplest air. Knowing how much_ 
 my father wished her to improve, she gave it 
 her undivided attention, and laboured painfully 
 to conquer the difficulty. At last she had 
 mastered a piece sufficiently to play it before 
 company, and one evening when a few friends 
 were with us, she was told to get her music ; 
 she did so, and, by a strong effort of will, 
 overcame her nervousness and played the 
 piece through without a mistake. She then 
 left the room without saying anything, and 
 soon afterwards was found upstairs by one of 
 the servants in violent hysterics. Had her 
 teachers understood her character and the 
 strength of her affectionate nature, much of the 
 trial of the few years succeeding our return 
 from Mauritius would have been spared her.
 
 EARLY LIFE. II 
 
 Our first governess was good and kind, but ?ier 
 successors were sac'ly stern and unsympathiz- 
 ing. The change from our mother's gentle 
 rule, which had m?.de learning a delight ; the 
 continual repression of everything like gladness 
 by the severe regi:ne of the schoolroom ; the 
 unvaried round of lessons made as unattractive 
 as possible ; and, most of all, the want of love 
 and encouragement, — all told on her sensitive 
 and most reserved disposition. She was by no 
 means a precocious child, and had learned to 
 read with the greatest difficulty; indeed, her 
 character and her faculties developed slowly, 
 and some of her teachers thought her almost 
 deficient in mental power. The greater part of 
 the four years after our return to Ireland was 
 spent at Fahan House, a small but very lovely 
 spot on the banks of Lough Swilly. We all 
 became much attached to this sweet home ; 
 but Agnes, especially, ever clung to it with the 
 deepest affection. It lies nestled among trees 
 at the foot of wild heath-covered hills, the 
 waters of the blue lake rippling up to the lOOt 
 of the lawn, and then stretching out to the
 
 12 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 grey hills at the other side. Every variety of 
 scenery is combined in the little nook, — bare 
 rocky mountains, which seem to bid defiance to 
 the advance of cultivation, subsiding at their 
 base into sunny cornfields or soft stretches of 
 waving flax ; wooded park-like domains, and 
 bleak stony patches, alternating on the banks 
 of that lovely lough, so appropriately called 
 *' The Lake of Shadows," while here and there 
 the blue smoke rises from isolated cottages 
 which dot the landscape all along the winding 
 shore. 
 
 Perhaps this is the least interesting, as it 
 certainly was the least happy time of dear 
 Agnes's life; outwardly she seemed to grow 
 stupid and callous, taking no interest in her 
 studies, and of the inner life we can find no 
 record, save in a fragment of journal among 
 her later papers. 
 
 "Nov. loth, 1846. — To-day I am fourteen. 
 When I look back at the past year, I see no- 
 thing but sin, depravity, and unhappiness. I 
 only feel that I have improved in music. This 
 morning I made many good resolutions ; 1 fear
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 13 
 
 too much in my own strength, for in the course 
 of the day I broke them all. 
 
 ^' Nov. iiih. — Awoke and wept at having 
 broken my resolutions." 
 
 These and such-like passages of her early 
 journals have deeply impressed me with the 
 thought that the tenderness of a child's con- 
 science is seldom realized by those who en- 
 deavour to guide and direct it. May it not be 
 that we sometimes lay a burden too heavy to 
 be borne on young hearts, because we judge 
 them by our own, which have grown hardened 
 by contact with the world and its ways ? Some 
 there assuredly are, whose hearts should be 
 rather trained to look up with loving trust than 
 to look into themselves for faults which they 
 mourn over in vain while they struggle to 
 amend in their own strength. And Agnes had 
 a peculiarly sensitive conscience; the smallest 
 fault she magnified into a sin, and grieved for 
 it accordingly. Then from her reserve, and the 
 power she had of concealing her emotion, no 
 one knew of this hidden lilc, so that she had 
 not the help she might have had. Yet this,
 
 14 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 doubtless, was not in vain : in those heart- 
 struggles, seen only by the Eye of Love, who 
 w^atches over all ; in the lonely weeping for 
 shortcomings and failures ; in the earnest reso- 
 lutions, renewed as often as broken, we may 
 trace the mouldings of the character to be de- 
 veloped in after days. The early and the latter 
 rain, the sunshine and the shower, were bring- 
 ing out the latent beauty of the young plant 
 which was hereafter to bear good fruit. 
 
 In January, 1848, we were sent to the Miss 
 Ainsworths' school, at Avonbank, Stratford-on- 
 Avon. The change from the extreme severity 
 of our governesses' rule to the pleasant cheerful 
 work of this admirably-managed school, was 
 soon felt, and the beneficial effects w^ere seen in 
 the advance made in study. Agnes, especially, 
 needed affectionate and gentle guiding; her 
 mental powers were as yet almost dormant. 
 Kind and judicious discipline, combined with 
 the stimulus of example and the encouragement 
 of merited approbation, soon showed that her 
 former teachers had been mistaken in their 
 judgment of her capacity. She now became
 
 EARLY LIFE. 15 
 
 remarkable among her companions for steady 
 application and earnest desire for improvement. 
 She was less popular than many others, be- 
 cause her mind was more set on advance in her 
 studies than on amusement, and she required 
 to give time and close attention to learn what 
 some could master rapidly ; but then, what 
 she once learned was her own for ever, and 
 years afterwards she would be ready with the 
 date of an historical event or the definition of 
 some abstract term which I had long ago for- 
 gotten. Her ardent affectionate nature was 
 drawn out in warmest love to Miss Harriet 
 Ainsworth, who, perhaps, never realized all the 
 gratitude she had called forth in the enthusi- 
 astic young Irish girl, who now, for the first 
 time, felt her powers brought into action, and 
 her efforts to please appreciated. 
 
 After two years and three months at school, 
 my father, whose health had suddenly broken 
 down in the autumn, was called away from 
 earth on the 19th March, 1850. We were 
 summoned home, but arrived some hours too 
 late. I had no idea ot Agnes's passionate love
 
 l6 • EARLY LIFE. 
 
 for her father until I read her papers and jour- 
 nals, in which such constant reference is made 
 to him, to what he was to her in life, and 
 what his memory ever continued to be to 
 her. 
 
 She writes in 1856 :— '' Sunday is a day of 
 many memories of my dear father ; it seems to 
 me especially his. Perhaps the seeing most of 
 him on that day made me first love Sunday; 
 but I always much enjoyed going to church. 
 At Mahebourg his service for the soldiers, then 
 our crossing the river and evening worship in a 
 solitary place. I could iind these spots now, 
 after all these years ; then standing by his side 
 in the corner of the verandah, the moonlight 
 vStreaming down upon us, learning and repeat- 
 ing or hearing his hymns, and looking up to 
 that dear face where was such holy love, joy, 
 and peace, and the tears often as he repeated, 
 ' See from His head. His hands, His feet,' etc., 
 or joined in the responses and singing in church. 
 Oh, how I worshipped him ! Then the fre- 
 quent hearing of his earnest prayers through 
 the closed door of his dressing-room, impressed
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 17 
 
 me deeply. His last words as he parted with 
 us at Leamington some months before his 
 death, were such a heartfelt * God bless you!' 
 I remember how their solemnity thrilled me : 
 he felt what we little guessed that our next 
 look on that dear countenance would be when 
 it was stiffened in death. I did not then gaze 
 on it as I would now I had done, for the shock 
 of my first view of death as the follower of a 
 long illness, made me less mindful at the time 
 of the sweet, peaceful, happy, loving look, which 
 showed how death was to him robbed of its 
 sting. But it was the first realization of or- 
 phanhood, and I feared to ask permission to 
 return, dreading to hear it was too late." 
 
 From this time Agnes's character developed 
 more rapidly, especially in its simple, unselfish, 
 devotion to others. She seemed to feel herself 
 responsible for their comfort and happiness, 
 and her mother, sister, and brother were the 
 objects of a watchful care, which was ever 
 ready to minister to them at any sacrifice of 
 her own ease and pleasure. Childish things 
 were laid aside, and a certain maturity of 
 
 c
 
 l8 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 thought and feeling was perceptible. An out- 
 side observer might have deemed that her 
 Christian course was not yet begun, and as we 
 look at the fair flower which later burst into 
 such w^ondrous blossom, we seem to marvel 
 whence it came and how it grew : no human 
 eye saw the seed sown or watched the stem 
 rise inch by inch, until the bud appeared ; but 
 we believe that from very early childhood, her 
 parents' prayers were receiving their answer, 
 and that " First the blade, then the ear, and 
 then the full corn," were watched and tended 
 by the heavenly Husbandman, until at last, 
 w^hen fully ripe, it was transplanted from earth 
 to bloom for ever in the fair paradise of God. 
 
 That summer of 1850, the dear home at 
 Fahan was left, as it was then believed, for ever, 
 and my mother took us to Dublin, where she 
 intended to reside, that we might have the 
 benefit of masters. We attended the ministry 
 of the Rev. John Gregg, now Bishop of Cork, 
 and immediately joined his confirmation classes. 
 His clear gospel-teaching and earnest personal 
 appeal to the hearts of the young, awoke new
 
 EARLY LIFE. I9 
 
 desires after God. Her aunt and godmother, 
 who ever watched over her spiritual life with 
 the deepest interest, writes, '' Her confuTxiation 
 seemed to me the time of Agnes's real con- 
 version ; she wrote me such a letter, and told 
 me that, on returning to her pew, her sins had 
 all seemed to rise up before her. From that 
 time I truly believe the earnest desire of her 
 heart was to live to God." One of her 
 earliest labours of love, which was scarcely 
 noticed by us at the time, was recalled to our 
 memory fifteen years after, when my aunt met 
 the lady, in whose house we lodged that winter, 
 in Dublin. She asked kindly for us all, but 
 especially for Agnes, and added, ** I shall never 
 forget how that young creature, all through the 
 winter they spent in my house, used to come 
 down to the kitchen every Sunday evening to 
 read the Bible to Larry and Eliza" (servants 
 in the house). There is an admirable Sunday- 
 school in connection with Trinity Church, at 
 which the children of the higher classes attend 
 as well as the poor ; very soon after our arrival 
 in Dublin wc joined it, and were placed by Mr. 
 
 C z
 
 20 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 Gregg in a class taught by Miss Williams, a 
 deeply experienced Christian, and one who pos- 
 sessed the valuable power of imparting know- 
 ledge and of touching the hearts of her pupils. 
 Agnes ever retained a warm affection for her, 
 and from time to time corresponded with her. 
 This lad}^ writes, *' I can never think of dear 
 Agnes Jones now, but as casting her crown at 
 His feet, in Whose footsteps she ever walked. 
 Her first letter to me in 185 1 is full of touch- 
 ing interest ; how truly dear Mr. Gregg inter- 
 preted her mind when he introduced her to me 
 with others as * anxious inquirers ' after his 
 confirmation examinations. She was then in 
 the valley of humility, when she did not dare to 
 lift up her eyes to see the hand that was 
 leading her. How circumspectly she walked, 
 looking for every footprint by the light of the 
 lamp before she placed her foot there ! 
 
 " Though she opened her mind so freely to 
 me in writing, yet she was so overcome by an 
 interview that I was obliged to give up visiting 
 you in Gardiner Street ; it seemed so painful to 
 her to speak before others, but in the class her
 
 EARLY LIFE. 21 
 
 intense appetite for the living bread was so 
 apparent that I often felt myself speaking to 
 her only, her calm gentle eyes fixed on me, as 
 God helped me to speak." 
 
 Before leaving the north of Ireland, we had 
 met at Ardmore two ladies, Miss Mason and 
 Miss Bellingham, both much engaged in mis- 
 sionary work among the Roman Catholics of 
 Ireland. Good and clever people were always 
 most attractive to Agnes, and she at once 
 formed a friendship with those devoted v.'omen, 
 which was most valuable to her, and a source 
 of much happiness. As they resided in Dublin, 
 she saw them frequently during the winter, and 
 became deeply interested in their work. Her 
 attachment to Miss Mason ripened into a warm 
 and lasting friendship, which had much influ- 
 ence on her after life ; to her she often wrote 
 for advice when in perplexity and depression, 
 and through her she was introduced to some 
 of her most valuable friends. 
 
 In the spring of 1851, we went abroad for 
 some months, and on our return in the autumn 
 I was sent to school at Brighton, while my
 
 22 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 mother and Agnes once more took up their 
 abode in Dublin. She felt the separation from 
 me very acutely, though for my mother's sake 
 she tried to conceal her feelings. Her intense 
 affection for those she loved was a source of 
 much suffering to her ; the great reserve of her 
 disposition seemed to make it impossible for 
 her to show it fully by words or many outward 
 signs, and it sometimes happened that the 
 objects of her love were unaware of the al- 
 most passionate depth of her feelings towards 
 them. This was not the case, however, in 
 her own immediate family, for none could 
 mistake the loving devotion of her every look and 
 word, though her private papers and journals 
 reveal an agony at every separation which 
 was little suspected at the time. Her extreme 
 humility made her fancy herself inferior to 
 others, and unworthy of their regard, and gave 
 a constraint to her manner with strangers which 
 often hid from them her real character. While 
 to others she was ever most lenient in her 
 judgment, to herself she was a most stern dis- 
 ciphnarian. From her journal, kept during
 
 EARLY LIFE. 23 
 
 this winter with tolerable regularity, one would 
 fancy her to have been leading an idle useless 
 life, so frequently do charges of indolence and 
 negligence occur ; those who were with her at 
 the time, however, tell a different story. She 
 was studying most carefully ' Bacon's Essays * 
 and ' Butler's Analogy,' for classes on both, 
 which she attended ; she had German and 
 drawing lessons three times a week, for wdiich 
 she prepared very diligently, and she was ever 
 ready for any useful work which might offer. 
 She was always busy about something ; from 
 early girlhood one never saw her with her hands 
 unemployed, and the amount of work of all 
 kinds she accomplished in this way was wonder- 
 ful. "My father had encouraged us as children 
 to write out during the week our recollection 
 of the Sunday sermons, and this practice Agnes 
 never gave up until time failed her for it in the 
 last few years of overwhelming work, yet to 
 the last she wrote out jecollections of any pe- 
 culiarly striking or profitable sermons. To 
 my mother she was ever the tender loving 
 child and the wise trusted friend ; over my
 
 •-«4 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 brother she watched with a yearning love, 
 which could never express the affection she bore 
 him, and to me she was like a mother, sister, 
 and friend in one. It is not easy to put into 
 words the love of a lifetime, and there are 
 depths of tender memories with which a 
 stranger intermeddleth not, but if any true 
 idea is to be given of the subject of this memoir, 
 the beauty of her home life cannot be passed 
 over in silence. Never did the charm of un- 
 selfishness appear more perfect than in her 
 character ; she seemed incapable of a selfish 
 act or of a selfish thought; as if of themselves 
 her thoughts ever turned to others, their 
 pleasure, their wishes, and while she thought 
 of herself only to blame, she could see no 
 fault where she loved. During this winter 
 she began her classes in the Lurgan Street 
 Ragged School, where the deep spiritual and 
 physical need of her scholars awakened her 
 liveliest interest and called forth her deepest 
 sympathy. 
 
 In the summer of 1852, my two aunts, with 
 Agnes and myself, made a short tour in
 
 EARLY LIFE. 25 
 
 Connemara, and all her enthusiasm was excited 
 by the wild scenery of the west, while her heart 
 was drawn out in ardent love to the poor but 
 intelligent peasantry, many of whom are 
 wholly ignorant of the English language, and 
 all of whom had been brought up in utter ig- 
 norance of the truth as it is in Jesus. We 
 visited many of the schools, and as the 
 Bishop of Tuam, with a large body of clergy, 
 was making a confirmation tour at the time, 
 we heard several examinations of the bright- 
 faced children in the schools, whose answers 
 astonished and delighted us. The orphan 
 nursery at Ballyconree especially interested 
 Agnes ; and the meeting again her kind friends 
 Miss Bellingham, then Mrs. D'Arcy, the wife 
 of the rector of Clifden, and Miss Gore, was 
 an additional pleasure. She would willingly 
 have stayed behind us in the west to work 
 for God with Miss Gore at Ballyconree, in 
 that great field so wonderfully opened up for 
 the labourer, and though duty called her away, 
 it did seem as if her life-long desire for mission- 
 ar)^ work might some day find its realization in
 
 26 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 that Sphere. She chose one school which 
 seemed in special need, and for some years 
 collected funds for the payment of the master. 
 So brightly did she picture the delights of life 
 among the mountains of Connemara, that a 
 friend gave her the name of " the recluse of 
 Clare Island," and often playfully asked her 
 when she intended to migrate to the wilds of 
 the far west. The next autumn and winter 
 were spent at Kingstown, and there she found 
 some poor people to visit, and divided her time 
 between self-improvement and usefulness to 
 others. 
 
 Early in 1853, we started for the Continent, 
 and six pleasant months were spent in France, 
 Germany, and Switzerland. Agnes's journal 
 is full of vivid descriptions of the scenery 
 through which we passed, and the historical 
 associations of the cities we visited, while at 
 the same time her practical mind was ever 
 ready to gain information from the manners 
 and customs of the people, their public insti- 
 tutions, etc. In this age of travelling, when 
 every one is familiar with the Continent, either
 
 EARLY LIFE. 2^ 
 
 through books of travel or from personal ex- 
 perience, few would care to read a young girl's 
 history of her first impressions of foreign life. 
 I shall, therefore, only extract from her journal 
 the passages which relate to the foreign deacon- 
 ess institutions, of which she now heard for the 
 first time, and which were to influence so 
 decidedly her whole after life. 
 
 *' Paris, April z^th, 1853. — To-day we went 
 to a meeting of the ' CEuvre des Diaconesses,' 
 Rue de Neuilly. It was held in the chapel of 
 the institution, which w^as crowded. There 
 are in all thirty- six sisters, two of whom are 
 from the German parent institution at Kaisers- 
 werth. They have three divisions or branches 
 of labour. There are the apprentices, the peni- 
 tentiary or refuge, and the ' disciplinaire pour 
 les enfants ;' there are also schools and an in- 
 firmary. There is always a reserve fund for 
 the support of the sisters when old or leaving 
 the institution. The great want is sisters, for 
 not only are there not enough for the work of 
 the house in Paris, but many are also required 
 lor work in the provinces, particularly in the
 
 28 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 Salles d'Asile. A rival establishment of Roman 
 Catholic Sisters of Charity has been opened 
 near. The house of the Protestant Deaconesses 
 has not, however, been emptied, as they pre- 
 dicted, but is too small. It is like the Kaisers- 
 werth institution, which has sisters at Jerusa- 
 lem, Smyrna, St. Petersburg, and elsewhere." 
 
 Early in June we reached Bonn, on the 
 Rhine, where some weeks were spent very 
 happily. Much of our time was taken up pre- 
 paring for masters, but the afternoons were 
 generally devoted to long country walks and 
 drives, which were often enlivened by the plea- 
 sant and profitable conversation of the Rev. W. 
 Graham, a missionary to the. Jews, who had 
 been for some years settled at Bonn. On June 
 2ist, vv^e all w^ent over to Kaiserswerth, accom- 
 panied by Mr. Graham, and spent a long sum- 
 mer's day in visiting the various schools, hos- 
 pitals, and other departments of that most 
 valuable institution. Little did we think of the 
 deep effect that day's visit was to produce. 
 The detailed account in her journal is too long 
 to give here, but will be found in the appendix.
 
 EARLY LIFE. 29 
 
 She concludes the vivid description of its 
 various departments of labour with the follow- 
 ing words, which seem almost prophetic : — 
 
 ''As we drove away, my great wish was that 
 this might not be my last visit to Kaiserswerth. 
 Surely such visits should not be unprofitable ; 
 if the thoughts of that day be blessed, and its 
 impressions deepened, it will not I trust be so. 
 That visit was, I believe, a talent committed to 
 our care ; may it not be buried."" 
 
 And a few days later she writes again : — 
 *' Bonn, Jime 2yth. — At breakfast it was pro- 
 posed, and Mamma consented to the plan, that 
 Aunt E • and I should spend a week at Kai- 
 serswerth in order the better to understand the 
 whole working of the institution. This is more 
 than I ever dared to hope. How thankful I 
 should be 1 May a blessing attend that visit ; 
 may my feeble desires to do good to others be 
 deepened and purified. The Lord has heard 
 my prayers and answered them in an unexpect- 
 ed manner ; surely this visit should be an en- 
 couragement to prayer, and a seal that God 
 will answer it. Lord, Thou hast in this an-
 
 30 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 swered my prayer ; add yet other blessings ; oh, 
 give me a large measure of Thy spirit. Go 
 with us, Lord, to Kaisersv/erth ; be with us and 
 bless us. Make all things now and then to 
 work for Thy glory and our good. Sanctify us 
 wholly ; sanctify our desires and thoughts. If 
 Thou be not with us, Satan can turn even these 
 wishes to evil. Teach us how needful watch- 
 fulness is, especially at this time. If Thou go 
 not with us, carry us not up hence ; but if it be 
 for Thy honour and our good, take us there, 
 and let me not forget, that as in this one 
 thing Thou hast heard me, so Thou wilt ever 
 hear. 
 
 *' It may be pleasant in a few years to know 
 with what feelings I looked upon the going to 
 Kaiserswerth, for it seems to me that it will 
 exercise a great influence on my future life. I 
 have no desire to become a Deaconess ; that 
 would not, I think, be the place I should be 
 called upon to occupy. No, my own Ireland 
 first. It was for Ireland's good that my first 
 desire to be used as a blessed instrument in 
 God's hand was breathed ; it was for Ireland's
 
 EARLY LIFE. 31 
 
 good that my desire to find the Lord for myself 
 took a tangible form ; it was for Ireland's good 
 that I have prayed to be used ; and though I 
 think, if I saw an opening, I could be content 
 to be sent to other lands, yet in Ireland is it 
 my heart's desire to labour. But though I do 
 not see that as a Kaiserswerth Deaconess I 
 should be taking my proper position, yet I do 
 believe that, as a training-school for usefulness, 
 some months spent at Kaiserswerth would be 
 of untold value. I have now the desire, but 
 not the power, but there is not a branch of use- 
 fulness in which I may be called to occupy my- 
 self that I should not have been to a degree 
 prepared for. At my age, such a training of 
 the powers and such a training of the desires 
 would, if blessed by God, have a great effect on 
 my character. These considerations are all 
 strongly in favour of my going to Kaiserswerth. 
 But again, ought I to leave Mamma ? If she 
 gave me an unbiassed and free permission, I 
 think that, for a time, I might, but she is not 
 anxious for it ; she sees it might not be for my 
 good in some ways. It is then my duty not to
 
 32 
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 press the subject. May I be grateful to her for 
 this permission, and wait until a way is opened, 
 as, if it be indeed for my good, it will be, and 
 be happy and contented with the blessings I 
 enjoy, not letting my mind dwell on what I 
 imagine would make me happy. If only eyes 
 are open to see them, there arc enough ways of 
 usefulness before me if I can never go to Kai- 
 serswerth." 
 
 ' The next entry, though not bearing directly 
 on the subject, I venture to quote, as calculated 
 to show Agnes as she then was ; it is a true 
 picture of the young heart's simple consecration 
 of itself to God. Here we see her turning to 
 Him from all earthly enjoyments ; finding Him 
 in all beautiful things ; desiring Him above all 
 things in the midst of her youth and freshness, 
 before the sorrows, or disappointments, or cares 
 of life had cast a single shadow on her un- 
 clouded path. 
 
 ^' June 28^A.— The heat was very great this 
 morning. After dinner we took a carriage to 
 Mehlem, and crossed to Konigswinter on the 
 flying-bridge. Thence we ascended the Dra-
 
 EARLY LIFE. 33 
 
 chenfels, some on donkeys, others on foot. 
 From the top, the view in both directions is 
 most beautiful. As you look down the preci- 
 pice, on the edge of which the ruins stand, you 
 see to the right the Rhine as far as Cologne, 
 the spire of Bonn, Godesberg, and some vil- 
 lages along the bank, the only landmarks, the 
 country being flat but rich ; to the left are seen 
 Rolandseck and the tower above ; below, the 
 two islands and the winding river for some dis- 
 tance; two large villages lie at j^ourfeet; beyond, 
 wooded hills and the quarries from which the 
 stone was brought of which Cologne Cathedral 
 is built. We went round to the other side, and 
 sat there, in the cool shade of the old tower, 
 having before us the rich country and dark 
 woodland, and opposite the quarries, from 
 whence now and then we heard the rolling 
 stones which are thus sent down the steep de- 
 scent, and from the island of Nonnenwerth 
 came the sound of convent bells. Very sweet 
 were they to our ears, because we were free, 
 tree at will to be of use to others, not in a cer- 
 tain specified way, not by being immured for 
 
 D
 
 34 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 life within convent walls, but free wherever the 
 pointings of duty lead us, in whatever situation 
 is right, free to point to others the way to ob- 
 tain blessings which are theirs as well as ours. 
 There we sat, Mr. G., aunts, mamma, J., and 
 I, a happy thankful party. We talked of poets, 
 poetry, English and German, then of the crea- 
 tive faculty of imagination, the most godlike 
 left to man, and then, turning to the beauteous 
 dioram^a spread before us, Mr. G. spoke of the 
 likelihood that we might, as disembodied spirits, 
 think of that evening when we had gazed on 
 our Creator's glorious work; we might even 
 visit it again. He thinks that, with body and 
 soul reunited, the saints shall again inhabit this 
 earth, for neither it nor any of God's works 
 shall be annihilated. The God-man shall reign 
 over this kingdom ; the realization of Jacob's 
 ladder will connect heaven with earth, and the 
 angels ascending and descending be the mes- 
 sengers between. We could have sat there 
 long, but it was getting late, so we rose with 
 solemn thoughts and, having taken another 
 look at the scene around, returned to the hotel,
 
 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 where, in a little arbour overhanging the valley, 
 we took our coffee, amusing ourselves feeding 
 some cocks and hens, the first we have seen for 
 some time. The clouds were very beautiful, 
 and the soft rays of the setting sun, half 
 screened from our view by a golden cloud, 
 were most exquisite. The whole landscape ap- 
 peared even more beautiful than in the morn- 
 ing. During our drive home, Mr. G. spoke of 
 the principle of compensation. If a tree be 
 planted and grow alone, it will not in a number 
 of years have reached to more than half the 
 height of a grove of trees planted at the same 
 time ; alone, it will weather the storm, and 
 every blast will only root it more firmly in the 
 ground ; but cut down all but one of the trees 
 in a grove, a gust of wind will level it, because 
 those trees which are planted together only 
 strike their roots to that depth, which with 
 their mutual support will enable them to stand; 
 so it is among Christians, those who, like many 
 in India and elsewhere, have to stand alone, 
 bear nobly up against the storm, and in Eng- 
 land, where many are together, they only just 
 keep their footing. D 2,
 
 36 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 *' He parted from us at our door, thanking us 
 for having drawn him from his sohtude. What 
 a blessing we should esteem it to have such a 
 man with us ! " 
 
 A few da3's later she writes from Kaisers- 
 werth : — 
 
 " My darling J., — Though none of the 
 dreadful things you imagined have happened to 
 me, I was very glad to receive your letter, and 
 to hear that you are all so well. We breakfast 
 at six^ dine at twelve, have tea at four, and 
 supper at seven, bed at ten. This is a very 
 busy day, and we have seen neither Louisa 
 Fliedner nor my dear friend Hedwig, who are 
 generally much with us. Wir liehen zusammen, 
 as they say. They both speak English very 
 well, especially the latter. Yesterday I had 
 such a pleasant talk with her; she believes 
 that I shall come back here ; I am sure I shall 
 if it be for my good. Dear Hedwig ! she was 
 telling me I must not expect to find all coidenr 
 de rose in the service of the Lord here ; in so 
 many things we feel the same. She belongs to 
 one of" the very highest families in Germany ;
 
 EARLY LIFE. 37 
 
 now she is principally engaged in teaching in 
 the seminarist's house, but even the pastor 
 himself was astonished at the cheerfulness 
 with which, as * probe Schwester,' she did any- 
 menial work. Each person here is, as far as 
 possible, assigned to the work for which they 
 are best fitted. There is much freedom in 
 every way. Each ward has its deaconess, who 
 has many * probe Schwestern' under her ; all 
 responsibility devolves on the sister, and one 
 evening every week each sister comes to con- 
 sult with the mother (Madame Fliedner) and 
 tell her her difficulties and trials. The mother 
 is indeed a mother, overseeing all, helping and 
 advising all. Yesterday, being the first Sun- 
 day in the month, all went to the church at 
 night, and there was a special prayer for all 
 the sisters here and abroad. In the fifteen 
 institutions in different parts of the world there 
 is a prayer meeting at the same hour; this 
 meeting in spirit is much prized. There is 
 such love between all, and every one is so free, 
 no one would think it a convent. Love seems 
 indeed, as far as human nature permits, to per-
 
 38 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 vade every action. I am so happy here ; it is 
 so dehghtful to see every one so busy, and in 
 the Lord's work ; all are so loving and excel- 
 lent, their whole hearts are in the work. It is 
 a blessed thing to be among them. I wish you 
 would all come here. Aunt and I went with 
 Louisa Fliedner, seven of her insane patients, 
 and five deaconesses to a farm near this, where 
 we had some coffee. The patients enjoy this, 
 and it is good for them ; Louisa begged us to 
 talk to them, as it pleased them so much. Fancy 
 us for three hours walking and talking with 
 these people in German. Not only the labour 
 of talking German so long, but the anxiety lest 
 I should touch a dangerous point, made it 
 rather fatiguing. All went off well. We 
 walked along the mill-stream, and they went 
 in a boat on the mill-pond ; they were so 
 obedient, and the deaconesses seemed only 
 amusing themselves, but never took their eyes 
 off the patients. One old lady was very inqui- 
 sitive, some would scarcely speak, but all were 
 pleased with the foreigners. Yesterday I was 
 in the hospital and infant school all day. If
 
 EARLY LIFE. 39 
 
 any one comes here to find quiet rest, or soli- 
 tude, they are very much mistaken, for all are 
 busy, yet have their work so beautifully appor- 
 tioned that there is never anything neglected 
 or left undone, yet no bustle. Link within 
 link binds all together, not only in the house 
 here, but to the 102 deaconesses abroad. '^ 
 A few days later she returned to us at Bonn, 
 
 and the following week we started for Switzer- 
 land, where she had much enjoyment. Physi- 
 cally strong, and not knowing what fear was, 
 she would have willingly ventured on the most 
 perilous mountain expeditions ; but in this, as 
 in all else, she yielded at once to my mother's 
 wishes, and gave up without a look of disap- 
 pointment her desire for adventure. A visit to 
 Mr. Alalan, at Geneva, made a deep impression 
 on her mind. 
 
 *' Geneva, Sept. ^th. — This morning, accord- 
 ing to Mr. Malan's invitation, we went to visit 
 his school. Here we were delighted with the 
 children, the order and quiet. He sent for us, 
 and we spent an hour with him. I trust I may 
 never forget his conversation."
 
 40 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 On our return to Ireland in the autumn of 
 1853, she resumed her former life in Dublin, 
 only devoting more time to teaching in the 
 ragged schools than she had . done before ; 
 earnestly she desired more work for God, and, 
 from her private papers, it would seem that 
 she blamed herself for indolence and care- 
 lessness, because she did not do more ; yet 
 never did she neglect home duties, or leave 
 undone what was ready to her hand. She 
 seldom spoke of Kaiserswerth, and I knew 
 nothing of her unabated desire to return there, 
 but in her journal, under the date of June, 
 1855, is the following passage, which shows 
 how the wish remained strong as ever : — 
 
 " When this time two years ago, I left Kai- 
 serswerth, my wish and prayer were that I 
 might some time return there to be fitted and 
 trained for active work in my Father's service. 
 How often since have that wish and prayer 
 been breathed ! I may almost say they have 
 been ever with me ; and though I acknowledge 
 that they should have had greater effect in 
 making me use my small knowledge and
 
 EARLY LIFE. 41 
 
 stirred me up to greater exertions, still, with 
 gratitude I write it, they have never had such 
 an undue influence as to make me discontented 
 and impatient that my wish was ungratified,-— 
 my prayer unanswered ; and when, a few short 
 days ago, mamma proposed my going in Au- 
 gust, with what trembling joy did I find that 
 accorded, unasked, which I should not have 
 thought it right to ask. May I take this fact 
 alone as the pillar of fire to lead me on ? It is 
 the way that inclination points, therefore, an 
 investigation as to the direction of duty will be 
 only fair. Inclination may lead to self-decep- 
 tion. O God, for Jesus' sake, direct me. The 
 duty on the side of Kaiserswerth is clear, and 
 may be summed up in a few words. As we 
 use means to fit us for any earthly profession, 
 so are we bound to use every means which will 
 enable us to adorn our Christian profession. 
 This is a means : it is now offered to me. 
 If God sends me and blesses me, it may be a 
 means for His glory and the good of my iellow- 
 creatures. If I go. Lord sanctify my motives. 
 An application of * Lord, let me first go and
 
 42 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 bury my father,' struck me to-day. There is, 
 when I leave m.y mother even for a short day, 
 a half-unacknowledged, undefined fear that I 
 may not see her again, and this comes over me 
 "when I think of leaving her to go to Kaisers- 
 werth. * Lord, let me wait till death removes 
 my father, then I will follow Thee,' said a man 
 to Jesus. The answer bade him come at once. 
 J. is now with mamma; this may be the most 
 convenient time for leaving her. Life is short, 
 the work to be done, great ; the preparation 
 should be made at once." 
 
 This paper is broken off abruptly, and when 
 it is resumed, it appears that circumstances 
 had occurred which made her feel it right once 
 more to defer the visit ; yet so simply and un- 
 selfishly was this done, that, though it was for 
 my sake she gave up her wishes on the subject, 
 I never knew till long afterwards that the idea 
 of her going had been proposed to her. The 
 sentence in her journal in which she refers to 
 the disappointment is so characteristic that I 
 cannot forbear inserting it : — 
 
 **^«/)',1855. — Had arrangements remained as
 
 EARLY LIFE. 43 
 
 before, I should have gone to Germany, but the 
 nearer time now fixed for J.'s marriage alters 
 the case. I did not know how much my heart 
 was set on it until I heard of the change of 
 plans, which seemed to put an obstacle in the 
 way ; yet how could I give up the last time of 
 our being all together ! surely my place is at 
 home, and if I am to be trained for usefulness, 
 a way will be opened. I prayed to be led ; my 
 pillar moves not on, and I will not go." 
 
 The winter of 1855-56, was spent at Port 
 Stewart, and early in the following spring my 
 mother and Agnes returned to the old home 
 at Fahan House. The delight which this ar- 
 rangement gave to all our party, became in 
 Agnes's case almost overpowering happiness. 
 She thus writes, March 6 : — 
 
 *' Drove down to dear Fahan on a business 
 expedition. Oh ! the happy feeling of being able 
 to look on it now as almost our home. For 
 some time after we came in sight of it, the 
 thought was unmixed joy. Then the little 
 churchyard reminded us of the dear father who 
 lay there, and recalled to us that here is not
 
 44 EARLY LIFE. 
 
 our home, and, therefore, with the words of 
 thanksgiving which arose to my hps, came 
 those of prayer, that in the few years we may 
 be blessed by remaining in that once happy 
 and now fondly looked for home, my own ease 
 and happiness may not be consulted, but that 
 I may live for the glory of God and good of 
 others."
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 FAHAN. 
 
 ** She doeth little kindnesses 
 Which most leave undone or despise ; 
 For naught that sets one heart at ease 
 And giveth happiness or peace 
 Is low esteemed in her eyes. 
 
 ** Yet in herself she dwelleth not, 
 Although no home were half so fair ; 
 No simplest duty is forgot ; 
 Life hath no dim and lowly spot 
 That doth not in her sunshine share, 
 
 ** Blessing she is, — God made her so, 
 And deeds of week-day holiness 
 Fall from her noiseless as the snow : 
 Nor hath she ever chanced to know 
 That aught were easier than to bless." — Lovelh - .. /rtt^r 
 
 A FEW extracts from Agnes's journal at 
 -^ ^ this time will show the spirit in which 
 she re-entered the home of her childhood : — 
 
 " June 4th, 1856. — Came down to Fahan for 
 a couple of days to get the house ready. Every 
 step by the way seemed to recall something.
 
 46 FAHAN. 
 
 The little court-house at Burnfoot brings back 
 the memory of that dear father whose last day 
 of health was spent there that he might speak 
 for the poor : further on, the hill;, where we as 
 children often went to meet grandpapa when 
 he was coming to see us ; soon the view of 
 Fahan recalled in contrast our last look when 
 ..eaving our home six years ago, and the remain- 
 ing distance was spent in prayer for guidance 
 and strength for my new duties. May God 
 grant us many days here, if they be devoted to 
 His service ; if He will so honour us as to 
 make us useful, to Him be all the glory. Lord, 
 do Thou be with us and bless us and drav/ us 
 nearer to Thee, and oh, may we not enter Thy 
 kingdom alone, — enable us to bring many to 
 the knowledge of Thee. I ran round the gar- 
 den with almost childish glee ; care and sorrow 
 seemed to have fled, — the weight of the last 
 few 3-ears removed. A few seconds I knelt in 
 that dear hallowed dressing-room — formerly 
 my father's, and now to be mine — to ask for a 
 blessing from the Lord on my coming here. 
 Out of doors I feel as if I had never left the
 
 FAHAN. 47 
 
 place ; every tree and weed and bramble seems 
 unchanged. But the mind goes off to the past, 
 the eye lights on the face of some unknown 
 child, then the feeling of the interim returns 
 strongly." 
 
 At Fahan the long-cherished dream of a life 
 devoted to the sick and sorrowful began to be 
 realized. In the school ; by the sick-bed of the 
 dying ; in the lowly cottage where some sudden 
 accident had brought sorrow and despair, and 
 where her gentle self-possession and prom.pt, 
 wise action seemed often to bring healing and 
 hope ; everywhere she was to be found about 
 her Father's business. None who saw can 
 ever forget her as she w^ould return from those 
 distant lonely walks ; her colour brightened by 
 the keen mountain air, her curls blown about 
 by the breeze, and her fair, happy face beaming 
 with the consciousness of having brought com- 
 fort and blessing to some of God's poor. She 
 had a very tender and loving sympathy for the 
 poor, and often writes of the happiness it was 
 to her to be among them. When on a visit at 
 the house of one of my uncles, she writes ;^-
 
 48 FAHAN. 
 
 '* I have to this place a feeling that I have to 
 no other, save Fahan, from the knowledge that 
 here a few poor look on me as a friend. How 
 the heart leaps with joy to see a look or smile 
 of welcome from the poor, much more than at 
 a warmer reception from the rich !" And 
 again,— 
 
 " March, 1857. — I thank God for the great 
 blessing of health and strength to go amongst 
 the poor. What a sore trial it would be to be 
 forced to cease from visiting them ! their cordial 
 welcome cheers me, and the hope of doing them 
 good is such an incentive ; when I come to one 
 who is a Christian, and hear her prayers for 
 me, then there rises within me a deep well- 
 spring of joy. 
 
 *' October, 1857. — To-day, winter came in hail 
 and snow and bitter cold. I put on winter 
 array, but felt almost ashamed to go into the 
 cottages so warmly clothed. What a contrast 
 between visitor and visited ! Who made me 
 to differ ? Health, strength, and this warm 
 clothing enabling me to go out in all weather, 
 are talents; oh, may each and all be more
 
 FAHAN. 
 
 49 
 
 and more used for His glory Who gave and 
 can take away. A blessing to-day from old 
 Mrs. W. warmed me so that I felt not the 
 cold ; she said, ' The Lord love you, for I love 
 you.' " 
 
 Another time when leaving home before 
 Christmas : — 
 
 " Dec. 20th, 1856. — I do not like to give the 
 poor their Christmas gifts so long before. I 
 would like the joy to come to them on that 
 day, to go myself with each little love-token. 
 What joy is like that called forth by the grati- 
 tude of the poor, often too big for words ! I 
 never know whether to laugh or cry. Among 
 the many thanks and blessings I have received 
 to-day, none have been as hearty or overpower- 
 ing as widow D.'s, and her prayer for me was 
 that God would never leave or forsake me, but 
 bring me safe to heaven. The blessings of an 
 aged saint come so home to one, while the 
 words of others seem an empty form." 
 
 Every morning, unless detained by home 
 duties, she set off on her rounds after break- 
 fast, returning to early dinner, only to start
 
 so 
 
 FAHAN. 
 
 again immediately aftenvards, and prolonging 
 her absence often until the darkness had closed 
 in. No weather deterred her ; no distance 
 was too great ; no road too lonely. She never 
 seemed to think it could be a question whether 
 the fatigue or exposure was too much for her ; 
 she was naturally strong, but often she over- 
 taxed her strength ; and when suffering from 
 severe headaches would set off in the morning 
 earlier than usual to see some sick person, 
 knowing that later in the day when the pain 
 had reached its height, she would be unable 
 to move. Many times in winter she came 
 back from her mountain walks with her cloak 
 stiff with ice and her hands benumbed with 
 cold ; but nothing could damp her brave spirit, 
 and the joy of her work kept her up. During 
 the five years she remained at Fahan, there 
 was no cessation in those busy labours, except 
 during one short visit to Dublin in the spring 
 of 1857. Her skill in prescribing for the sick, 
 and her gentle but firm touch in dressing 
 wounds, and especially in cases of burns and 
 scalds, soon became famous in the neighbour-
 
 FAHAN. 51 
 
 hood, and the poor people came many miles 
 across the mountains to consult her, and to 
 get medicines, salve, etc. The turf-fires on 
 the cottage hearths, round which little children 
 often gather without much watching or care, 
 are the fruitful source of many severe burns, 
 and, on such occasions, Agnes was always 
 sent for. Sometimes it w^as a very fearful 
 sight that met her, but she never shrank from 
 anything because it was painful, if she could 
 but relieve suffering, and day after day she 
 would go to dress the burns until her care 
 was no longer needed. She was so conside- 
 rate, too, so thoughtful of their comfort ; never 
 forgetting to take cake or fruit for the poor 
 little sufferer to beguile it during the painful 
 dressing, as well as more substantial food, 
 where that was needed. Roman Catholics as 
 well as Protestants were visited and cared for ; 
 she made no distinction of creed or sect in 
 ministering to the needy ones, and wherever 
 she was allowed to do so, she never paid a 
 visit without reading at least a few verses of 
 the Bible. Then she would say a little by way 
 
 E3
 
 52 
 
 FAH AN. 
 
 of explanation, so simply that the youngest 
 child could understand, yet so earnestly and 
 practically that none could listen unimpressed. 
 Her own deep sense of responsibility and the 
 tenderness of her conscience, ever ready to 
 condemn herself, made her often mourn very 
 deeply over the apparent v^ant of success attend- 
 ing her visits. A few extracts from her journal, 
 taken from different periods, may, perhaps, 
 help to bring her life more vividly before the 
 reader : — 
 
 ''Nov. istli, 1856.— To-day I went to old 
 Mrs. D. ; she seemed very low, but I trust her 
 hope is sure. My thoughts went back to 
 former visits. Have I really set the whole 
 Gospel before her? How humbling to go 
 time after time and feel such want of words 
 and want of power in setting Jesus forth ! As 
 I went into a new cottage to-day, many doubts 
 arose. When I can do so little in speaking 
 awakeningly to those I visit, why go to more ? 
 but this was a temptation to yield to my foolish 
 timidity. He who knows the thoughts an- 
 swered mine, for when I left the cottage, a
 
 FAHAN. 53 
 
 stranger came up saying, ' I hear you lend 
 tracts, and should be glad of some.' This is 
 indeed encouragement, for which I thank God. 
 The promise is beginning to be realized to me, 
 * He that watereth others shall be watered 
 himself;' for when I read and try to explain a 
 chapter, passages strike me with a force of 
 which I knew nothing when reading alone. 
 
 *' Nov. 30/A. — How often do Mr. A.'s words 
 warn or comfort me ! To-day those which 
 came home to my heart were words of en- 
 couragement, truly God-sent, ' The Lord hath 
 need of thee.' How often, in my secret heart, 
 do I long to avoid this or that visit and wish 
 to postpone it ! Even to-day I thought, ' The 
 snow is heavy, the roads slippery; my head- 
 ache severe ; how gladly I would remain at 
 home !' but how could I with those words in 
 my ears ? each step was cheered by them ; 
 better than the cry 'Excelsior' came those 
 soft, gentle, loving words, * The Lord hath 
 need of thee.' He so high, the Lord of heaven 
 and earth, with His myriads of angels, can 
 He use, much less need the instrumentality of
 
 54 FAHAN. 
 
 such as I ? If it be so, and I read also, * Thou 
 knowest not whether shall prosper this or 
 that/ shall I let a little thing stop me ?" 
 
 '' Febniary 2^th. — On my return from Ard- 
 more last evening, I ran up to see poor little 
 M. W., who I heard was dying. She took and 
 held my hand, and, from its motion in answer 
 to my question, signified her sure dependence 
 on Christ alone. Dear little girl, I feel so sure 
 of her safety ; many things she has said to me 
 prove her trust to be placed on the Rock of 
 Ages." 
 
 " March ist. — M. W. died last night. Jesus* 
 words, ' He that believeth on Me though he 
 were dead, yet shall he live,' seemed so true 
 of her as I gazed on the dead face ; dead yet 
 alive." 
 
 " March i^th. — Mrs. L. died yesterday. The 
 last words I heard her say as I supported her 
 in my arms were, * I will fear no evil, for Thou 
 art with me.' This was about twelve hours 
 before she w^ent to be with Jesus. Hers was 
 no deathbed repentance, — long ago that was 
 all done, and peace with God was hers. I felt
 
 FAHAN. 55 
 
 — 's death so much, and the circumstance that 
 of none who have died since I came here, could 
 I look to more than a hope of a deathbed 
 change ; I prayed that the next might be one 
 of whom I could feel certain ; the answer 
 came, little M. W. and Mrs. L. have joined 
 the heavenly choir." 
 
 *' March 28th. — On my way to see M. A. R. 
 to-day, the Lord, I trust, sent me a word of 
 such beauty and encouragement. Isaiah xxxv. 
 8, ' A highway shall be there and a way, and it 
 shall be called the way of holiness, the unclean 
 shall not pass over it, but (margin, for he shall 
 be with them) the wayfaring men though fools 
 shall not err therein ;' oh, what a blessed pro- 
 mise ! The way of holiness, which seems so 
 unattainable^ He will give help to walk in to 
 those who seek it; even fools, poor weak foolish 
 sinful ones, such as I, shall not err therein, shall 
 maintain a consistent walk, if we only see His 
 presence here promised, ' for he shall be with 
 them.' Oh, be so with me, Lord ! guiding, 
 guarding my footsteps, that they err not in the 
 way of holiness."
 
 56 FAHAN. 
 
 *' April iSth. — It is long since I wrote. Pas- 
 sion week with its sacred services and many 
 privileges is passed. The coming week seems 
 to promise trial of a kind which I feel most 
 sensibly, and yet cannot explain to friends. I 
 am going to E.'s wedding ; gay scenes are be- 
 fore me ; may I not by my narrow-mindedness 
 disgrace the holy name I bear, and put my 
 Saviour to shame. Oh, may I have grace to 
 perceive and know what I ought to do to pre- 
 serve the right medium. How beautifully ap- 
 propriate is this vveek's collect, ' Follow the 
 blessed steps of His most holy life ! ' Oh, for 
 some of the spirit in which he went to the mar- 
 riage feast ! Oh, so to shine in His reflected 
 light as to attract some to Him, and not repel 
 them from Him !" 
 
 '' May i^th. — I am weighed down sometimes 
 with the sense of responsibility and short- 
 coming. With this crushing feeling I was 
 coming home this evening, taking my Satur- 
 day's review of the past week, but as I came 
 near our gate the lovely scene before me 
 seemed to lift off the load of care : the church
 
 FAHAN. 57 
 
 and trees behind it were bathed in a heavenly 
 flood of Hght, the rays of the setting sun ; it 
 seemed unearthly; I almost listened for the 
 angels' songs, but a sweeter note perchance to 
 flesh and blood was the assurance brought 
 home by the scene of a loving Friend Who is 
 touched with the feeling of His people's infir- 
 mities. I do not the less feel my own short- 
 comings, but I feel in my weakness the strength 
 engaged for me; — the sweet promise; * All that 
 the Father giveth me shall come to me ; ' shall 
 come, however far short human instrumentality 
 falls of their need. His crown shall not want 
 a jewel, but if believers do not live up to their 
 privileges, if they tire and faint, their crowns 
 may be less bright because they will not avail 
 themselves of the honour He allows them, of 
 being His instruments in winning souls. They 
 will not be less safe, but less happy; further 
 from Him, perhaps, because in a lower place 
 in heaven. I would be ambitious of a high 
 place there ; nearer, Jesus, to Thee. Oh, for 
 a heart burning with love to Jesus." 
 
 ** Whitsunday. — The deep feeling of thanks-
 
 58 FAHAN. 
 
 giving that I am a member of the Church of 
 England, which often makes me class it among 
 my many mercies, was never more deep than 
 to-day. The commemoration of the first be- 
 stowal of that gift of gifts, the Holy Spirit, is 
 indeed a holy season, a da}^ much to be thought 
 of in prayer beforehand, and not to be forgotten 
 when past. It seems such hallowed ground, I 
 grudge that its hours have nearly fled. Oh, 
 the lovely promises connected with this day, 
 the chain of gems, brightest and best that 
 which names Him Teacher and Remem- 
 brancer. How much I need Him ! Lord, on 
 me, and on all dear, mother, sister, brother, 
 let this blessing come ; give to Mr. A. a double 
 portion of Thy Spirit, and oh ! for Fahan, 
 water it also, and bless our dear, dear Church 
 and its ministers, and keep its beautiful ser- 
 vices intact. Thank God for them." 
 
 *' October ^rd. — Went up before breakfast to 
 see Mrs. B., who I heard was worse. A party 
 of friends were staying in the house and I was 
 to take them to Dunree, so feared I might not 
 have time later. She seemed happy; no mur-
 
 FAHAN. 59 
 
 mur; not the old longing for death, but a 
 trusting dependence on Christ's finished work 
 for her. As we sat at breakfast after my re- 
 turn, Mrs. P. came in a distracted state ; her 
 child was fearfully burned. 'The doctor is 
 from home, and the minister is from home, and 
 oh, Miss Jones, you must come; all my de- 
 pendence is on you.' I could get no particu- 
 lars from her, so collecting all I thought neces- 
 sary, I rushed off up the hill and arrived at the 
 cottage before the mother. The child was in- 
 deed a fearful sight ; from the waist upwards a 
 skinless mass ; the water they had thrown over 
 it to extinguish the flames had brought off the 
 skin ; it lay shivering in the father's arms, 
 wrapped up in cloths wet with buttermilk ; the 
 house was full of neighbours, and before I 
 could do much the mother came in. Her 
 screams were fearful, so both for her own sake 
 and the child's, I persuaded her to leave the 
 house. With flour and cotton I dressed the 
 wounds, merely putting flour on the face, and 
 left it, feeling almost hopeless. I was little in- 
 clined for our day's excursion, but our friends
 
 6o FAHAN. 
 
 were waiting and we started. On my return 
 I asked eagerly, and was told the doctor had 
 seen it at two o'clock, and said it could not 
 live. 
 
 *' It died at eight that night. T went up 
 next morning as I had promised, I dreaded the 
 going, but found the neighbours gathered in 
 and I in a crowd when I would have given 
 worlds to be alone, yet I was glad I had gone. 
 I was asked to read, and did so. I scarcely 
 know who were there, for I could not see well, 
 but they seemed to be mostly men, and some to 
 whom I have not spoken before. I tried to say 
 none were too young to die, and to speak of 
 the only preparation, and so bring the question 
 home to each : am I ready? As I left I longed 
 so for quiet that I was almost sorry to meet 
 dear Mr. A., who had returned late the evening 
 before. After a short talk we parted, I to see 
 M. A. R. and G. G., both very ill ; on my way 
 home I met Mr. A. again, and he asked me 
 to go with him to Mrs. B., to whom he was 
 to administer the communion. I felt this was 
 just the soothing my worn, distracted mind
 
 FAHAN, 6l 
 
 needed, but I did not foresee all the comfort 
 that blessed communion was to bring. I thank 
 God for it." 
 
 " October 2yth, 1858.— I have a friend less in 
 the world to-night, one more in heaven. Dear 
 old Mrs. R. has gone home ; a remembrancer, 
 perhaps of poor unworthy me before the throne. 
 The walls of heaven are ringing with her ' new 
 born melody,' and in my ears come the echo of 
 her words to me, ' I have been at school and 
 hearing all my life, but till you came, I knew 
 nothing of these things but that God was 
 above me. You will get a blessing for what 
 you have done for me.' Ten days ago she 
 said, ' I am going home ; if I don't see you 
 again, God bless you and yours. I can't 
 say all I feel, but God knows I love you.' 
 How good and kind God is to give m,e this 
 encouragement ! but to Him alone be the glory 
 and praise." 
 
 " October 2gth.—Mr. — died this morning ; he 
 was happy, very happy all through his illness, 
 and now as he lies a corpse, the blessed spirit 
 fled, it has seemed to me as if God has been
 
 62 FAHAN. 
 
 very near Fahan lately ; within these few 
 weeks, the gates of heaven have unfolded to 
 receive three new bright spirits to swell the 
 anthem there, the glory— glory— glory. And 
 I ; how have I longed to go home too ! how 
 long this life seems ! Mine is a very happy life 
 here, but for sin and all my shortcomings 
 which weigh at times upon me, when I cannot 
 cast the burden on my Jesus. It seems so 
 selfish to mourn those who have gone home ; 
 how could we and our love supply half the joy 
 they now have ! " 
 
 *' April 2^th. — This evening I was very 
 weary; the great joy of getting my darling 
 mother and sister back after their fortnight's 
 absence ; the delight of again hstening to their 
 voices made me, I fear, ready for an excuse to 
 stay at home, but the thought of the poor, of 
 Mrs. B., who would be expecting me, over- 
 came the desire, and I went. By the way I 
 thought Mr. A.'s Easter word of comfort on 
 Mark xvi. 3, might refresh her; I felt its force 
 doubly as I recalled it in order to tell its pre- 
 cious messasre to weak believers ; and then
 
 FAHAN. 63 
 
 the joy of her tear-choked words, ' you have 
 brought me the message I needed to-night.' I 
 might sit at her feet, sweet Christian, and 
 learn of her, and yet God sent me to cheer 
 her by repeating His servant's words. * Truly 
 out of the mouth of babes doth He perfect 
 praise.' " 
 
 " i^th. — I felt much the soothing influence of 
 the scenery to-day : the bank of wild roses on 
 the sand hills above the strand; the sunset 
 seen from Buncrana ; then the full moon, in all 
 its grandeur, sailing over the sky and then dis- 
 appearing behind a heavy cloud, silvering its 
 outline; all these, one after the other, came 
 with a force that seemed to speak peace. It is 
 your heavenly Father that gives you this enjoy- 
 ment. I did bless him for my creation and for 
 that of this lovely earth." 
 
 " 2Sth. — A Sunday at home, doing nothing, 
 but, I trust, learning much. I had overtaxed 
 my voice, cold settled in it, and for some days 
 it has been inaudible. It seems as if by taking 
 it away for a time my God were going, as it 
 were, to take my education into His own hands;
 
 64 FAHAN. 
 
 it may be to force that preparation of the heart, 
 that learning of Him and from Him which 
 came before Isaiah's lips were touched with 
 the live coal and he was sent forth to teach 
 others. God grant that I may learn His lessons. 
 And though it will come home sometimes that 
 it is a severe trial that I cannot make my poor 
 hear me, yet that very feeling shows how much 
 I need the lesson, thinking, as it were, that I 
 cannot be done without. Lord, if it be Thy 
 will to take away my voice for long, draw me 
 nearer to Thyself and teach me to know Thee 
 more, to sit at Jesus' feet and learn His word." 
 God's word was indeed the rule of her life 
 and her daily study. She truly hungered for 
 the bread of life, and fed day by day on the 
 written word. With her it was no mere read- 
 ing of a few chapters but searching the Scrip- 
 tures, comparing passage with passage, and 
 storing her heart and memory with the truths 
 she thus learned. I think it was in November, 
 1856, that my aunt Esther gave her a treasury 
 Bible as her birthday gift. She thus notices it 
 in her journal; —
 
 FAHAN. 65 
 
 ** This morning came aunt E.'s birthday gift, 
 — a treasury Bible ; a new talent given to me ; 
 Lord give me grace to use it aright. And do 
 bless the kind and loving giver, and enable me 
 more and more to show my love to her." 
 
 She afterwards wrote to a friend : — " Aunt E. 
 has always loved me very much, but she never 
 did anything for me half so valuable as when 
 she gave me that Bible." 
 
 A few passages from her journal about this 
 time may shov/ how she meditated on God's 
 word, and drew from its sacred pages the 
 strength and comfort for her daily walk : — 
 
 *' May 12th, — For some time I have been 
 cheered by the words, ' The hand of the Lord 
 is upon all them for good that fear Him.' On 
 them, leading them to seek Him ; an them, 
 when they have found Him, for good ; making 
 all things, every little incident, every text they 
 read, every good thing they hear, every thought 
 He suggests, teach them some lesson, lead them 
 some step onward. Yes, His hand is in all 
 things on His people for good. 
 
 " The lollowing verse seems to me a motto 
 
 F
 
 66 FAHAN. 
 
 with which I should .strive to sanctify every 
 thought and feehng: — 'I will go in the strength 
 of the Lord, I will make mention of Thy 
 righteousness even of Thine only,' Psalm Ixxi. 
 1 6, in connection with our Lord's own declara- 
 tion, * Without me, ye can do nothing.' In 
 every effort for the glory of God and good of 
 men, these texts must be acted out in the 
 length and breadth of their spirit. May I re- 
 member also to give none occasion to the enemy 
 to blaspheme. 
 
 "Another wonderful text so expresses the 
 love and condescension of God in employing us 
 sinful creatures as His agents in doing good to 
 the souls of our fellow-men : — * But as we were 
 allowed of God to he put in trust with the Gospel, 
 even so we speak not as pleasing men, but 
 God who trieth the hearts.' i Thess. ii. 4. 
 His goodness is expressed in the * allowed ;* 
 our responsibility in the 'put in trust.' Our 
 solemn obligation is to remember Whose ser- 
 vants we are ; we cannot serve two masters, 
 therefore, we must not seek to please men, but 
 God. This must be our aim, and angels have
 
 FAHAN. 
 
 67 
 
 none higher, to please God. How forcibly 
 came home the Saviour's words, * Without Me, 
 ye can do nothing/ for the God whom we are 
 to please trieth the hearts. Sinners in thought, 
 word, and deed, how can we of ourselves please 
 the heart-searching God? but we can appear 
 in the robe purchased for us and freely offered 
 to us, and our works may in Jesus be not only 
 acceptable but pleasing to God. But for 
 this, how close we must keep to Jesus, cling to 
 him ! nothing less will do ; only in Him can 
 we appear before God, only by His help can we 
 please God." 
 
 "Nov, ist.—-'l am come that ye might have 
 life, and that ye might have it more abundantly.* 
 Truly the Christian must not stand still; the 
 Saviour came not only to save, not only that 
 we might have some life, a dim spark, a 
 mere existence, but that we might have it 
 more abundantly; might grow in grace, in 
 knowledge, in holiness, in beauty, in useful- 
 ness." 
 
 " Nov. ^rd. — I have for some nights gone to 
 bed thinking over that sweet text (oh, that I 
 
 F 2
 
 68 FAHAN. 
 
 could enter into its depths !) : — Jeremiah xxix. 
 II, ' I know the thoughts that I think towards 
 you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace and not 
 of evil, to give you an expected end.' ' God so 
 loved the world that He sent His Son to die for 
 us.' God pleads and entreats with us to come 
 to Him ; He bares His heart to us that we may 
 see the love laid up there for each and all, ' I 
 know the thoughts that I think towards you.* 
 You, every one of you, whosoever will appro- 
 priate to himself these words : * I, the Lord, 
 who search the heart ; I, who am not a man to 
 lie, but the Lord Jehovah, I say to you, poor, 
 sinful, wretched, lost sinner though you be, I 
 know the thoughts that I think towards you,* 
 and what are those thoughts ? are they con- 
 suming, destroying thoughts ? He who cannot 
 look at sin might well say, ' I will destroy them 
 in a moment ; I will not spare — .' But no, 
 the thunders of Sinai would but harden the 
 heart ; the tones are of the still small voice ; 
 they declare God's thoughts to be of peace and 
 not of evil. 
 
 " Another text I have been thinking much of
 
 FAHAN. 69 
 
 is, Psalm xxxiii. 18, 19, especially, ' To keep 
 them alive in famine.' When panting after the 
 living waters of salvation, and the fountain 
 seems closed to the longing soul, when Christ 
 is not to be found, because as yet not rightly 
 sought ; oh, how cheering to think that He yet 
 waits to be gracious, and that meanwhile he 
 will keep the soul alive in the famine, till He 
 Himself speaks, * Take, eat : this is my body 
 which is given for you, even you !'" 
 
 '^ Nov. 2^rd, — Read Matthew i. to-day ; the 
 two names here given to Christ should teach 
 us much, — Jesus — Saviour. If in temporal 
 danger, what more cheering sound than the 
 news of an approaching deliverer, able and 
 willing to save; so, to sin-bound and con- 
 demned sinners, what sound more sweet than 
 that name which tells of safety, if we only feel 
 our need and seek it ? Then the meaning here 
 given, 'Jesus, for He shall save His people 
 from their sins.' Not only from the punish- 
 ment but from the thing itself; from the power 
 and dominion as well as the condemnation of 
 sin. Take it in its close home-sense, He shall
 
 70 FAHAN. 
 
 save me. Each may take the name of Jesus as 
 a personal promise of salvation, as the pledge 
 and seal to each. His name is Jesus, for He 
 shall save me, and as sure as this is His name, 
 will He give salvation to all who seek it through 
 Him and Him alone. Then, His other name, 
 
 * Emmanuel, God with us,' tells of Jesus being 
 a man as well as God, — our fellow, fellow-man, 
 fellow-sufferer, one of fellow-feeling. He can 
 be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, 
 for ' He has felt the same ' temptation ; He was 
 
 * tempted of Satan.' The feeling of being sepa- 
 rated from God, ' My God ! my God ! why hast 
 Thou forsaken me ?' The separation caused 
 by sin He tasted for us, that He might feel for 
 us, though Himself without sin ; — poverty, de- 
 sertion of friends, sorrow, suffering, hunger, 
 thirst, the heart-desolation among those who 
 cannot sympathize. He felt all that He might 
 feel for us. He is God, but God with us in 
 nearness, love, and sympathy." 
 
 "June 2Sth, 1857. — I had a delightful morn- 
 ing before going to church, studying Ezekiel 
 xlvii., to which dear M. N. called my attention
 
 FAHAN. 71 
 
 yesterday. I find my treasury Bible of great 
 use ; not only as a help to explain Scripture by 
 Scripture, but also as an opener up of many 
 parts of which I might perhaps otherwise never 
 think ; and oh, how every text shows more and 
 more what a mine the Bible is ; how inex- 
 haustible and how precious ! 
 
 " The waters in verse i are types of the living 
 waters so freely promised, and of which all are 
 invited to take. Margaret spoke of the men- 
 tion of the altar here as sending us to the cross 
 of Christ as their source, — the purifying water 
 and the cleansing blood ; but what delighted 
 me most were the references on the comparative 
 depths of the water, ' The waters were to the 
 ankles,'— the first outpouring of the Spirit. Luke 
 xxiv. 49 ; Acts ii. 4, 33 ; x. 45, 46 ; xi. 16, 18. 
 
 " ' Then the waters were to the knees and 
 loins,' — the gradual spread of the Gospel and 
 its being offered to the Gentiles. Acts xiii. 42- 
 48 ; Romans xv. 16 ; Col. i. 27. 
 
 " Then * waters to swim in ;' the looking for- 
 ward to that glorious time when * the know- 
 ledge of the Lord shall cover the earth.*
 
 72 FAHAN. 
 
 Isaiah xi. 9 ; Daniel ii. 34, 35 ; Habakkuk ii. 14 ; 
 Matt. xiii. 31, 32 ; Rev. vii. g ; xi. 15 ; xxi. 2-4. 
 
 *' Then the reference to the question, verse 6, 
 *Hast thou seen this?' is to ]\Iatt. xiii. 51, 
 where Jesus asks, * Have ye understood all 
 these things ?' showing that it is He alone 
 who can open them to our spiritual understand- 
 ings. In verse 8, where the waters issue in 
 all directions, the references show so beauti- 
 fully the Lord's promises of provision for His 
 people's every need. The promises : Isaiah 
 XXXV. 1-7 ; xli. 17-19 ; xliii. 20 ; xliv. 3-5 ; xlix. 
 9 ; Jeremiah xxxi. 9. 
 
 *' ' Wherever the waters come, they shall 
 bring healLig : wherever the Gospel is preached 
 among the heathens many shall be saved.'* 
 Isaiah xi. 6-9; Malachi i. 11 ; Matthew viii. 11. 
 
 " Verse 9 teaches the universality of the offer 
 of salvation. John iii. 16 ; xi. 26. ' Every- 
 thing shall live,' — the type of Jesus the life is 
 shown in the life-giving properties of the 
 waters. John v. 25 ; vi. 63 ; xi. 25 ; xiv. 6, 19 ; 
 Romans viii. 2 ; i Cor. xv. 22 ; Eph. ii. 1-5, 
 'The great multitude of fish ' denotes the mul-
 
 FAHAN. 73 
 
 titudes from every land and age which shall be 
 saved. Isaiah xlix. 12; Ix. 3; Zech. ii. 11; 
 viii. 21, 22. * For they shall be healed,' — the 
 Lord is Himself the healer. Exodus xv. 26." 
 
 ^^ August is^.— What should I be without my 
 Bible ? It is, indeed, a rich mine of treasure, 
 and I think I am learning more to dig into it. 
 Job xxxviii. 26, 27, may indeed come home to 
 me ; the tender herb is the seed sown, but not 
 yet shov/ing itself, so that we doubt its life; 
 yet one of the designs of the thick cloud is to 
 cause it to spring forth. Luke viii. 15. Then 
 Job xxxvii. 12, 13, we see the cloud comes to 
 accomplish the Lord's ends ; these are three : 
 — For correction ; for his land, or for mercy. 
 
 " For correction : ' He may send trouble, as 
 to David His servant, to reveal to him his sin 
 as against Gcd.' Psalm li. 
 
 " For his land : to give to those who are 
 His the assurance that they belong to Him. 
 
 ** For mercy : to turn our thoughts more and 
 more to Him ; to awaken those who sleep the 
 sleep of death." 
 
 *^ August i^th. — I was much struck to-day by
 
 74 FAHAN. 
 
 Job xxviii. 25, * He weigheth the waters by 
 measure/ contrasted with John iii. 34, ' He 
 giveth not His spirit by measure.' He weighs 
 the trial and affliction He sends, lest one drop 
 too much should fall to His people's lot, but 
 for the good gifts of his Son and Spirit there 
 is no limit. * Open thy mouth wide and I will 
 fill it.' It is a word of reproach against His 
 people that they limited Him. They took not 
 somewhat of Him, — took no heed to the pro- 
 mise, ' Ask and ye shall have.' " 
 
 We might fill volumes with passages such 
 as these, showing how she thought over the 
 verses she read, and tried to draw teaching 
 from all ; but I must pass on to speak of what 
 can be learned only incidentally from her jour- 
 nal ; the quiet beauty of her home life. Visi- 
 tors in the house saw the simple unaffected 
 girl, so quiet and unpretending, though ever 
 lad3dike and cheerful, and knew nothing of 
 the deep inner life which was the motive power 
 of her consistent walk. But they could not fail 
 to see that while her days were spent among 
 the poor, no home duty was ever neglected,
 
 FAHAN. 75 
 
 and her mother's slightest wish would at all 
 times make her give up her own plans. Long 
 before the party assembled in the breakfast- 
 room, Agnes might be seen returning from the 
 garden laden with flowers, which she delighted 
 to arrange in the sitting-rooms with a skill and 
 taste quite peculiar to herself. If the servants 
 happened not to be sufficiently skilful to un- 
 dertake all that was required, she would spend 
 hours in the kitchen preparing confectionery, 
 etc., and when my mother came down in the 
 morning to give orders, she frequently found 
 that Agnes had been in the kitchen from five 
 o'clock, and that all was prepared. In all the 
 arrangements of the farm and garden she took 
 the greatest interest, and was ever ready to 
 do anything to help my mother, and save her 
 from anxiety and fatigue. On first coming to 
 Fahan, I find from her journals, it had been 
 sometimes a great trial to her to give up her 
 visiting of the poor when guests at home re- 
 quired her attention, and she even questioned 
 with herself how far it was right to yield the 
 point, but it was not long before her peculiarly
 
 76 FAHAN. 
 
 just and calm judging mind had discerned 
 where the line was to be drawn; and it was 
 often a marvel to those who knew where her 
 heart lay, to see with what sweet cheerfulness 
 she would devote herself to the amusement of 
 the friends and relatives who visited us during 
 the summer months. A year and a half after 
 my mother and she returned to Fahan House, 
 I had been left a widow, and once more joined 
 the home circle. Those only w^ho knew the 
 deep tenderness of dear Agnes's character, and 
 the intense love she ever bore me, could guess 
 at the affectionate sympathy with which she 
 w^atched over me at that time, and how with 
 gentle persuasion she drew me on to join her 
 in walks and visits to the poor : the desire 
 to give me an interest again in life, making 
 her forget her timidity, and admit me even to 
 her Bible readings in the cottages, where I 
 learned many a lesson from her simple prac- 
 tical teaching. Of her it might indeed be said, 
 whatever her hand found to do, she did it with 
 her might ; she saw what many, alas, of the 
 good and useful people of the present day fail
 
 FAHAN. 
 
 77 
 
 to see, that God may be obeyed and glorified 
 as truly in the small details of domestic life, 
 if done unto Him, as in the greater missionary 
 work abroad. 
 
 The following letters have been sent to me 
 by the Lady Secretary of the Young Women's 
 Christian Association, and seem to have been 
 v/ritten between 1856 and i860 : — 
 
 " Fahan, Londonderry. 
 
 **My dear Miss S. — Though I. cannot yet 
 call myself a member of the Young Women's 
 Association, you will, I am sure, excuse a 
 stranger's addressing you in the familiar style. 
 
 *' When Miss Williams first proposed my 
 joining the Association, I felt most strongly 
 what Miss H. speaks of in her letter,— a 
 shrinking from making public my feeble ef- 
 forts, and a fear lest the love or desire of the 
 praise of man should in any degree take the 
 place of the only true motive. I was glad to 
 receive the packet of letters you so kindly sent 
 me, hoping to learn much from them, yet de- 
 termined not to become a member on the con- 
 dition of a quarterly letter. As I read on, how-
 
 78 FAHAN. 
 
 ever, I felt that I must join such a blessed 
 Association ; that I must write to commend 
 myself and the work given me to do, to the 
 united prayers of the Christian band. How 
 the consciousness of prayer being offered up 
 for us, nerves us to struggle on in our Saviour's 
 strength, through difficulty and discourage- 
 ment ! I myself am a very young woman, 
 and, as such may claim to be remembered in 
 your prayers. I can look back and bless God 
 that I was once a member of Miss W.'s Sun- 
 day-school class ; now, though myself a teacher, 
 I would gladly resume my position as scholar. 
 Enough of myself, and now for my work. Its 
 sphere is a small country parish, whose de- 
 voted minister allows me free access to the 
 people. 
 
 ** In June last I returned to this my former 
 home after some years' absence. The girl, 
 grown into a woman, was cordially received for 
 her parents' sakes. It was indeed no light bless- 
 ing to feel myself from the first received as a 
 well-wisher. Those' whom I remembered a 
 little, were first visited, the homes of the
 
 FAHAN. 79 
 
 school-children next, the old, crippled, infirm, 
 and sick, as the case of each in turn became 
 known, till now my visiting-book contains the 
 names of sixty families, more or less regularly 
 visited, according to circumstances, — twice ^ 
 week, weekly, fortnightly, or monthly. I never 
 willingly exceed the last term. 
 
 " I desire to be regarded by all as a Scrip- 
 ture-reader ; everything else, I try to make subr 
 servient to this great end. The system of lend- 
 ing tracts I have adopted, not only for their 
 own sake, but also that their regular exchange 
 may serve for an excuse, as it were, to enter 
 the house Bible in hand. I find my way thus 
 made easier among the thirty families where 
 this system is carried out; but. for this, I 
 should often find an excuse, as I do sometimes 
 among the others, to allow my call to merge 
 into a mere visit. The sooner I begin, the 
 more readily is it understood. If I cannot stay 
 long, they feel that the ' one thing needful ' is 
 to be the first object, though, in this case, I 
 try to return soon again, and spend a time in 
 listening to their tales of sorrow and difficulty,
 
 8o FAHAN. 
 
 longing to be regarded as a friend, and trust- 
 ing that as such my message may come home 
 to their hearts through the Spirit's blessing 
 on my instrumentality. 
 
 " I have dwelt thus at length on my system, 
 hoping for advice on the subject, and also for 
 some hints as to the best means of gaining 
 access to the hearts of the people. Few, I 
 suppose, have their time so fully at their own 
 disposal as I- have. When I read letters 
 from many more fitted for the work, laid aside 
 from active employment, and thought of my 
 ov/n unvaried health and strength, and yet 
 inward weakness and frailty, I thought who 
 made me to differ. Even in my work I gain 
 fresh vigour. I have long walks to take daily 
 to the various cottages, but the way lies 
 through beautiful scenery, in sea and mountain 
 air, and my practice of disregarding weather, 
 has, with God's blessing, kept me from a single 
 cold this winter. Then God's Word often 
 comes home more strongly to my own heart 
 as T read to the poor, and try to make a lew 
 simple remarks. As to capacity, were it not
 
 FAHAN. 8l 
 
 for Jeremiah i. 6-9, 17, 19, and the promise 
 Proverbs xxii. 21, — were it- not that I go armed 
 with the sword of the Spirit, I should indeed 
 fear to go forward. But in our weakness, the 
 promise is but the surer, ' I am with thee,' if 
 only we be really in God's way. My Sunday 
 and day-school classes will not come under the 
 title of 'young women,' neither do the cases 
 of all I visit, but several such there are, and 
 some I would especially desire to be remem- 
 bered at the Throne of Grace. 
 
 ''.... is one who causes me much anxiety. 
 For months she resisted my invitations to the 
 Sunday-school. At the close of the year I 
 thought of a plea, ' Suppose you begin the 
 year well by coming.' To my delight, its first 
 Sunday saw her in our clergyman's class. I 
 watched for her each week ; again she was 
 absent on a slight excuse, now has returned. 
 May the instruction be blessed to her ! She 
 is in a trying position at home, and this is the 
 only way of reaching her at present. Another, 
 for whom I ask your interest, is of a difierent 
 spirit. What that spirit is, her remark on 
 
 Q
 
 82 FA.HAN. 
 
 John XX. 22, will clearly show, ' He breathed 
 on them.' * What strong w^ords ; how near 
 they seem to bring Jesus to us ; how they 
 come home !' She has long been ill ; every 
 effort to come to church is followed by a re- 
 lapse, but she longs after God's house. She 
 is always so happy when strong enough to 
 kneel in prayer. To her I go not as a teacher, 
 but as a learner, and what a refreshment it 
 is ! Another poor girl has been led far astray. 
 I am always at a loss how to deal with . . . ., 
 not to destroy her sense of shame or let her 
 motherless sisters think lightly of her fall, 
 and yet not to break the bruised reed. I 
 should much like advice on this subject from 
 those more experienced. Though, as a general 
 rule, I am not an advocate of Sunday visiting 
 of the poor, when time can be found during 
 the week, I think it is well to give something 
 to mark the day to those who can never at- 
 tend public worship ; therefore between services 
 I visit two poor cripples, to read to and in- 
 struct them; an hour every Wednesday is 
 likewise devoted to these ; their only point in
 
 FAHAN. 83 
 
 common is their infirmity. The young woman 
 cannot read, but she is anxious to learn. I 
 try to store her mind with hymns and texts 
 to think over in my absence ; these she takes 
 pleasure in remembering for my sake, but she 
 is yert, I fear, unenlightened with regard to 
 the soul's only Light. I do not like to weary 
 you by multiplying cases, but select those in 
 which I am myself most interested. On a 
 mountain slope there lives a family, formerly 
 without any religion. One of our summer 
 showers suddenly swelled the mountain 
 streamlet into a torrent, by which a child was 
 carried off. All night the parents searched 
 in vain, till the morning light revealed the 
 sad tale. I had never seen the family before 
 this time, but was then asked to visit them. 
 I cannot read their hearts, but I do know 
 that both parents listen attentively to God's 
 Word, and I receive many thanks for my 
 visits and am entreated soon to return. The 
 father, a shoe-maker, lays aside his work and 
 does not resume it until the last word is said. 
 The mother is a very young woman, but 
 
 G 2
 
 84 FAHAN. 
 
 both her own and her husband's former family 
 will, I trust, have cause to bless God for this 
 accident. My letter has insensibly lengthened. 
 I know not whether it be necessary to enter 
 so fully into detail, but I have thus mentioned 
 some of my anxieties and blessings, that you 
 may more fully be able to realize a stranger's 
 position and give the advice and help I need. 
 I must apologize for troubling you with so 
 long an epistle, and request that if it be neces- 
 sary to send this my first letter with the others, 
 you will considerably abridge it. 
 ** I remain yours truly, 
 
 *' In a common Saviour's service, 
 
 " Agnes E. Jones.'* 
 
 " Fahan, November, 1857. 
 
 *' My dear Miss S. — This letter will pro- 
 bably be late for this quarter; indeed, I had 
 not thought of wTiting, but for a circumstance 
 which occurred to-day. For the last month 
 my thoughts have been painfully occupied, and 
 I have been away from home and my poor;
 
 FAHAN. 85 
 
 now I have returned a^ain among them, 
 though home ties will occupy me more now 
 than before. . . . My last visit before leaving 
 home was at the house where I called to- 
 day. About a year ago, a young woman— a 
 Presbyterian— ran off with a Roman Catholic. 
 Her parents were very angry, and till her 
 baby was born, when the mother went to her, 
 she never saw them. Whether she ever went 
 to chapel I do not know ; her child was of 
 course taken there to be baptized. Within 
 the last two months they have come to live 
 in my visiting district, and, when at the house 
 where she lodged, I saw her two or three 
 times. The husband, however, was always 
 present, and as I had not known her family 
 until after she had left it, I felt I must not 
 appear too much interested in her at first. 
 Last week I paid her a visit in her own house, 
 having received a message that she would like 
 to see me. The husband was out, but a 
 stranger was there, before whom I felt I must 
 be cautious. The poor girl's eyes filled with 
 tears when I went in, and she looked so glad
 
 86 FAHAN. 
 
 to see me. I spoke of her parents, and saw 
 how her mother's rare visits were prized and 
 her father's continued estrangement mourned 
 over. I told her that I saw them sometimes, 
 and lent tracts to her brother, who liked them 
 much. I watched the effect of this, for I was 
 doubtful what to do. I longed to take ad- 
 vantage of her husband's absence to speak 
 to her, and, a tailor being generally at home, 
 I feared to lose the opportunity, and yet 
 dreaded to get the poor thing into trouble, 
 were the woman who was present a Roman 
 Catholic. I prayed for direction, and finally 
 offered to lend her tracts and to read a chapter 
 to her. When I was leaving, she thanked me 
 with tears and begged me to repeat my visit. 
 Yesterday, among other places, I went to her 
 mother's house, determined to urge her family 
 to visit her and be kind to her, fearing much 
 the effects of her being left entirely to her 
 husband's family. I therefore spoke of my visit 
 to her and of her contrition for the step she 
 had taken, dwelling on the steadiness with 
 which she has of late withstood all efibrts to
 
 FAHAN. 87 
 
 bring her to the chapel ; for a time none of 
 them spoke ; then the mother said, ' I would 
 not be able to explain the contentment it was 
 to her to see you coming to visit her.' She 
 then told me that the poor girl had said so 
 much about my visit, and that she was thank- 
 ful I had lent her the tracts before her sister- 
 in-law, though she had ' scowled on her ' when 
 she saw it. She was anxious, too, for a Bible 
 our clergyman promised her. All this I men- 
 tion as showing the poor girl's state of mind ; 
 her great distiess is, lest the baby should grow 
 up to return on her her conduct to her parents. 
 Poor thing ! I believe she is truly penitent, 
 but in a most difficult position. I want you 
 to pray for her and for me, that I may have 
 wisdom given me in dealing with her. 
 
 " I want more zeal and earnestness in my 
 work, to speak more to the people of the dear 
 Saviour I have found. I am naturally very 
 reserved, but I find to get influence over the 
 poor, the more openly one speaks the better. 
 I may not have much longer to go among 
 them. My voice is each day more easily tired,
 
 SS FAHAN. 
 
 and sometimes after reading in three or four 
 houses, I have to return home, unable to exert 
 it again that day. At home, when trying to 
 read aloud in the evening, my voice fails me in 
 about ten minutes. This makes me long the 
 more to work while I have time. I have done 
 little good with that voice, but to be able to 
 continue reading God's Word to the people, 
 as I have tried to read it for the last year 
 and a half in this place, is my desire ; if He 
 has need of it. He will give strength. One 
 learns by going among so many different cha- 
 racters, the depths in God's Word, — its ap- 
 plicability to every circumstance ; its strength 
 and power is so felt in contrast to one's own 
 weakness and ignorance. I am sure the more 
 we know for ourselves the certainty of the 
 words of truth, the more we shall be able to 
 answer those who send to us. That promise is 
 such a sweet one to take and plead at every 
 cottage-door, — the promise of the Spirit to 
 teach all things and bring Christ's words to 
 our remembrance. 
 
 " I have written at too great length, but
 
 FAHAN. 89 
 
 many interruptions have caused me to De less 
 concise than I ought to have been. Poor young 
 Mrs. M. needs your prayers, as does also your 
 friend, 
 
 ** In Christian love, 
 
 ** Agnes E. Jones." 
 
 " December 31, 1859. 
 
 ''Dear Friend, — Tn this day of blessed 
 revival work and in the near neighbourhood 
 of its visitation, we have yet, alas ! to say, 
 
 * The dew falls thick on all around, 
 But our poor fleece is dry.* 
 
 And yet T cannot but feel as if the word to us 
 w^ere, ' Though it tarry, wait for it ;' for more 
 than two or three among us have agreed to 
 pray to and for the Holy Spirit, and is not the 
 word sure, ' Seek and ye shall find '? It is a 
 trial of faith to witness, as on a late visit 
 to a previously known locality, the blessed 
 change there, and then to return and see 
 only more vividly than before the deadness 
 among our own loved people, but it is a
 
 90 FAHAN. 
 
 time of great searching of heart. * Where- 
 in have I come short ?' personall}^ indivi- 
 dually, and in relation to those among whom 
 my lot is cast. It sends one more to one's 
 Bible to seek the promises, to one's knees 
 to put the Lord in remembrance. Some 
 among our little band of sisters may have 
 witnessed, as all have heard of the blessed 
 revival ; several of its scenes I have visited, 
 one especially, with which, being my uncle's 
 parish, I had been previously acquainted. I 
 saw it there when the work was in its infancy, 
 again this month, and can testify to the trem- 
 bling, tearful fear of many, lest their love should 
 wax cold. The Bible is to them, indeed, the 
 Book, — their daily food, as prayer seems their 
 life ; companions in folly are now watching 
 each other as a mother would her infant, lest 
 they should stumble. One must see to under- 
 stand how every opportunity of instruction is 
 prized, no weather keeping from the Bible- 
 class or prayer meeting. Crowded places of 
 worship and earnest devout worshippers show 
 how every means of grace is valued. In the
 
 FAHAN. 91 
 
 remote mountain parish of which I speak, 
 there has scarcely been a blemish to mar the 
 beauteous whole ; in towns the trials and temp- 
 tations to imposture are greater, yet, even in 
 such places, detractors from the movement 
 admit a great residue of good, but in G. none 
 have gone back of those in whom a vital 
 change appeared, though some who seemed 
 awed at first have not continued under the 
 good influence ; again, with respect to the cases 
 of insanity attributed to the movement, all 
 have, I believe, been satisfactorily proved to 
 be such as any excitement would have caused. 
 The only such case I saw, was that of one 
 who, being subject to fits of depression, made 
 her being ' struck ' a cause for deep anxiety. 
 * That's not for me !' was her despairing cry 
 in answer to every quoted promise or invita- 
 tion. I left her thus. Four months after I 
 found her bright and happy. * I have never 
 been low since ; God opened my eyes that 
 night to see the way, and He has never shut 
 them since !' such was her testimony. 
 
 " None who have heard the cry of the
 
 92 FAHAN. 
 
 'stricken' could ever forget it, — their state gave 
 a new aspect to the reality of sin as seen in the 
 light of God ; the prayers of such seemed to 
 picture Jacob's wrestling, and after awhile, ' I 
 know that Thou wilt save me,' was uttered in 
 tones that seemed indeed the full assurance of 
 faith. And the happy beaming look, at once 
 makes you single out the * awakened ' among 
 all others. One such case only have we had 
 here, — a young woman, on her return from 
 hearing Mr. Guinness preach in Derry, felt she 
 must stop by the roadside and pray ; she w^ould 
 wait until at home, was her next thought, but 
 no, that could not be ; before friends and neigh- 
 bours, she must stop and kneel down by the 
 hedge. Now she seems a rejoicing Christian. 
 The Bible and prayer are her life, as bringing 
 her nearer to Him v/ho is the Life. 
 
 " A change in the residence of one of my 
 cripples left me a free hour on Sunday after- 
 noon ; fliis I have now given to a woman's 
 class, for those whom age or want of clothing 
 prevent attending church. A mile of steep road 
 does not signify to me with God-given health
 
 FAHAN. 93 
 
 and strength, but it is an insuperable barrier to 
 many. We meet in the cottage of a man who, 
 as he humbly sits and listens, reminds me of 
 him who was clothed and in his right mind 
 after Jesus had cast out the evil spirit. On 
 Christmas Day as I sat among the little group 
 and told the glad news, * I bring you tidings of 
 great joy, which shall be to all people,' and 
 tried to bring home to each individually, ' Unto 
 you is born this day a Saviour,' I could not but 
 feel what different sounds those walls had 
 echoed on every previous Christmas Day, when 
 the oaths of drunkards and gamblers had been 
 heard there. It was a happy little meeting, 
 and though the unsafe and slippery roads were 
 yet more difficult to tread in the evening dusk, 
 there was an inner feeling of joy which made 
 that walk to church a happy one. * Oh, that 
 in this coming year I may tell more of Jesus, 
 and lead to Him, Who for us men and for our 
 salvation came down from heaven. May we 
 all seek individually to be daily renewed by the 
 Holy Spirit, more and more to give our own 
 selves to God, and so be used more as workers
 
 94 FAHAN. 
 
 to£:ether with Him, till we reach the blessed 
 period 
 
 'When no failing comes between 
 The service that we render Him 
 And the service that we mean.' 
 
 May we all so meet in the strength of Him, 
 who, when He promises the crown to those 
 who overcome, adds in compassion to our weak- 
 ness, ' As I also overcame ;' so lovingly remind- 
 ing us, how He is * touched with the feeling of 
 our infirmities.' 
 
 " Yours in Him, 
 
 *' Agnes E. Jones." 
 
 " Fa HAN, i860. 
 
 *' My dear Miss S., — The first of the month 
 is perhaps too long past to allow of a letter this 
 quarter ; and yet though unable to write in 
 time, I feel our parish now so specially needs 
 that prayer should be offered on its behalf, and 
 I myself so love the link which binds to so 
 many dear sisters in Christ, that I must send a 
 few lines. 
 
 ** To those who have not experienced it, the
 
 FAHAN. 95 
 
 severing of the tie between pastor and people 
 may seem a light trial, and, when death is not 
 the cause, it seems selfish to mourn ; but when 
 the ' teaching priest ' is the loved guide and 
 friend of young and old, rich and poor ; when 
 on the weekday one feels sure of sympathy and 
 advice in every case of difficulty one brings 
 before him ; when day by day, in their homes, 
 and frequently by night in the class or cottage 
 lecture, in the Thursday evening service, and 
 Friday half-hour prayer meeting, the people 
 meet their pastor, whose loving, gentle look 
 and manner, as well as words, endear him to 
 all ; then, indeed, do his words on Sunday — the 
 telling of Jesus in words and tones which echo 
 in their hearts through the week — find a way 
 which no stranger could conceive. 
 
 *' And now the news comes, soon another 
 shall be your pastor, and the whole parish rings 
 with lamentations. The male and female week- 
 day, the young men's Sunday-school classes 
 now at an end. The old bedridden woman 
 cries, ' He was like a lady coming in to see me ; 
 he was so loving when he told me so plain of
 
 96 FAHAN. 
 
 Jesus ;' others say, ' He carried the mug of jam, 
 the meat or the old linen when my child was ill,' 
 or ' He dropt tears with me when my wife died ; 
 how can I but love to hear him ?' Again, ' He 
 is just like one of ourselves coming in ; I can 
 open my mind to him ; nobody is ever afraid 
 to speak to him ;' and, better still, * I know by 
 his teaching what Jesus means ; I never read 
 my Bible till he came ;' ' I never understood 
 my Bible till he taught me how to read it.' 
 
 " The old man, who for thirty years had 
 never darkened the church door, could not but 
 go to hear ' the gentleman preach,' who, on the 
 wildest night, came to the mountain cottage to 
 hold his lecture, where none ' might think 
 shame to come even in rags,' and so it was with 
 many who for months and years had no clothes 
 for church. Among the young men, especially 
 dear Mr. — 's influence was so blessed. Few 
 would recognize in the simple Gospel-preacher, 
 whose whole aim is to seek out ' plain words ' 
 to set before an almost exclusively unlettered 
 congregation, the lofty flights of fancy and 
 depths of learning and research, which, alike in
 
 FAHAN. 97 
 
 poetry and essays, again and again carried off 
 every prize but a few years back, — all now laid 
 at the foot of the cross, and every thought now 
 being how best to lead his flock to green pas- 
 tures ; such is he whom we are now to lose. 
 And what shall I say of my own personal loss, 
 — the pastor, friend, counsellor, guide ? his 
 loved and loving wife, in whom I ever found a 
 friend and sister, and those little children, who, 
 in a retired country place, were all the variety 
 I had or needed in the long winter months. 
 Next month we shall lose all these sunbeams. 
 One loves to lean on such props as these ; yet, 
 perhaps, God is saying, ' Come up higher/ from 
 the human to the Divine Teacher. 
 
 " All is ordered, and so must be for the best, 
 though it is hard to part. The woman for 
 whom I asked your prayers, she whose child 
 was burned to death, said to me one day, 
 * Sometimes I wish so much you were coming 
 in, and you don't come, and I feel as if I must 
 go to ask you, and can't get time or have not 
 clothes to go ; but I never have to look for 
 Je'cius and not find Him. I can always go to 
 
 H
 
 98 FAHAN. 
 
 Him ; and though, I think, I can tell you every- 
 thing, still I can tell Him more.' Truly her 
 words taught me a lesson, needed the very next 
 day, when I heard our dear pastor was to leave 
 us. We pray for him who is to be ' over us in 
 the Lord,* as yet a stranger and unknown ; and 
 oh, pray for us, dear friends, that in this trial, 
 the Lord may draw us nearer Himself. At this 
 blessed Easter season may we each hear Jesus 
 speaking to us individually, and may we as 
 Mary answer, * Master.' May the showing of 
 His pierced hands and side bring home to each 
 His blessing. * Peace be with you.' .... 
 " Your young friend, 
 
 ** Agnes E. Jones."
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 KAISEBSWERTH. 
 
 ** Let others seek earth's honours : be it mine 
 One law to cherish, and to teach one line, 
 Straight on towards heaven to press with single bent, 
 
 To know and love my God, and then to die content." 
 
 ^jT^HE time had now come' when the happy 
 -*- country life was to be left for ever, and a 
 wider sphere of usefulness entered ; and here 
 I cannot forbear saying a word to those, who, 
 mistaking their own inclinations for God's 
 guiding, might think to find in Agnes an ex- 
 ample of abandoning home duties for what 
 they deem God's service ; young hearts, who, 
 fired by the story of some such life as hers, 
 fancy they could do the same, had they the 
 opportunity; who finding the yoke of obedi- 
 ence galhng, think they could rule others, not 
 having heart for the small duties assigned 
 them, cry out for greater ones; to such I would
 
 lOO KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 say, " Rather learn from this life to wait God's 
 time ; if in your heart you find, as she did, a 
 desire specially to devote yourself to His ser- 
 vice, commit your way to Him, and He will 
 give you the desire of your heart." 
 
 In 1853 Agnes first saw Kaiserswerth, and 
 longed for work there ; not until 1S60 was the 
 wish granted. She waited God's time patiently 
 and obediently, and when He saw fit, He made 
 the way plain for her. How little we know 
 what the apparently insignificant circumstances 
 we seem to mould ourselves may bring forth to 
 us. In September, i860, Agnes had, for some 
 time, been looking pale and thin, yet we could 
 not induce her to take rest, or in any way relax 
 her exertions. An uncle, who had come to his 
 home in Ireland for a few weeks, was to rejoin 
 his family in Germany, and one morning it 
 was suggested at the breakfast-table, that this 
 might be an opportunity for paying her long- 
 talked-of visit to Kaiserswerth, availing herself 
 of his escort for the journey. At first she 
 seemed to think it impossible she could leave 
 her sick and poor ; but in a day or two she
 
 KAISERSWERTH. lOI 
 
 spoke of it again, and said she felt she might 
 learn there much that would be useful in the 
 parish ; so it was settled that she should go. 
 There was little time for deliberation, for my 
 uncle was to start in two days, and she left us for 
 Dublin, saying she trusted a month, or at most 
 six weeks, would see her again at home. I^Iy 
 mother and I rejoiced at her being thus forced 
 away from the long mountain walks which we 
 felt were too much for her strength, and hoped 
 the complete change of air and scene would 
 restore her failing health. Little did we think 
 she was never again to be with us except on 
 passing visits. 
 
 Her journals and letters supply the history 
 of the next few months : — 
 
 "September isth, i860.— Started this morning 
 for Dublin, the beginning of my journey to 
 Kaiserswerth, of which journey I had not the 
 least thougKt this day week, but when mamma 
 proposed that I should take advantage of uncle 
 M.'s escort, this circumstance seemed to point 
 the way to what I have desired for seven years. 
 My ignorance about sickness and the care of
 
 102 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 those afflicted with it, makes me feel my need 
 of some such training as a means of future use- 
 fulness ; at the same time I feel very nervous 
 about leaving mamma and J., and whether I 
 should forsake my poor now, is to me a ques- 
 tion. Every leavetaking has been with a feel- 
 ing of the separation being long, and 3^et I 
 hope surely to return in a month. It was a 
 sad parting from mother, and, but for very 
 shame, I could then have heartily given up the 
 going. I cannot see the pillar moving on, but 
 trust God will be with me, and bless me, else 
 all is dark indeed. The journey was a weary 
 one, with a nervous headache, but it was 
 cheering to meet a kind welcome from dearest 
 Miss Mason. 
 
 " September i6th. — Spent an anxious evening 
 yesterday, so when I went to my room I asked 
 of God some encouragement next morning, if it 
 were His will I should go, and if it were only 
 my weakness made me fear leaving mother and 
 sister, my poor, and my country ; after this I 
 had such a happy feeling of being able to leave 
 all in His hands. I slept well and quietly, and
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 103 
 
 though I looked for the answer in my letters, 
 did not feel my usual impatience about them ; 
 there was nothing for or against the going in 
 any way, and I felt as if I had expected too 
 much ; but the loving mercy of God to my 
 poor weak heart was greater as He is ever 
 above what I ask or think. At ii we went to 
 Mr. Hare's Monday prayer-meeting; his prayer 
 was chiefly that we might be kept irom seL- 
 seeking, — that self which comes even into 
 God's house, when we say, * I am of Paul,' etc., 
 which comes with us when we think we are 
 doing God's work, filling us perhaps with 
 the thought, how we are thought o., etc. 
 Afterwards I spoke to him, and, when Miss 
 Mason told him of my plans, his blessing made 
 me nearly cry with thankful joy, that God 
 would now and ever guide and bless me and 
 make me a blessing. Oh, how good God is 
 through His servant to show me such sym- 
 pathy ! it was' the God-man, Jesus, my Sa- 
 viour, knew my need, and sent the supply." 
 
 The arrival at Kaiserswerth is thus de- 
 scribed ; —
 
 104 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 " After parting from uncle at Cologne at 7 
 o'clock, I began to feel very nervous about my 
 reception, but a strong word came to my weak- 
 ness and helped me, ' Why art thou cast 
 down ? oh my soul, hope thou in God.' An 
 hour and a half at Diisseldorf before a train 
 started which would stop at Calcum, was try- 
 ing ; had I known the delay would be so long, 
 I should have sat down to read or wTite, but I 
 thought every moment my train would be up. 
 At last we were off, and soon I was on the 
 platform at Calcum ; sor:e deaconesses were 
 starting, but one remained, so I addressed her; 
 she could not tell, however, if I were expected. 
 We put the luggage in the omnibus, but I was 
 glad, after only two hours of sleep last night 
 and three nights of very disturbed rest, to have 
 fresh air and walking ; then my hobbling Ger- 
 man began, and so we came to the door of the 
 hospital. I was left in the hall, till some one 
 should find what was to be done with me ; 
 after a long wait a summons came to the 
 pastor's house ; the mother came in and said 
 I should live in the hospital, in the Sisters*
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 105 
 
 part, and so brought me over and gave me in 
 charge to Sister Sophia, the head of the hos- 
 pital. She led me to a dear little room, the 
 window opening on the garden, across which I 
 see the orphan and the pastor's house. After 
 a little, I was taken to Sister Reichardt's room, 
 where I sat and talked till 12 o'clock dinner; 
 then my luggage arrived. I unpacked and 
 dressed and went with Sister Dorathea to the 
 women's hospital ; Sister Carietten came to 
 take me over part of the house, — the women 
 and children's wards, work-rooms, kitchens, 
 bakery, etc. Coffee at 2 in my room, and then 
 with Sister D. to see the w^ounds dressed in 
 the hospital. At 7 tea, returned to my room 
 and at 9 to prayers." 
 
 ^' Friday, — Breakfast was brought to me at 
 6 o'clock ; afterwards I went to the women's 
 hospital and spent the day there." 
 
 *' Saturday. — Prayers at 7, then to women's 
 hospital ; dressed some wounds, etc. Sister 
 Dorathea, of whom I am sure I should have 
 grown very fond, went off to replace a Sister 
 at Graefeld almshouse for sick and old. Sister
 
 I06 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 Amelia takes her meals v/ith me ; she is the 
 cutter-out of dresses, etc. Sister Maria was 
 with me one evening ; she was an orphan here, 
 and became deaconess ; she has just returned 
 from Dresden, and is so fond of this, she hoped 
 to remain here, but heard to-day she is to go 
 elsewhere. After dinner I paid Sister Sophia 
 a visit in her room, and was told to be ready 
 at 3, dressed in black for the funeral of Sister 
 Joanna, who died on Wednesday, and for 
 whom the bells have been rung daily from 12 
 to I o'clock. Sister Maria came for me ; we 
 found the deaconesses assembling in the yard, 
 where was the coffin with six bright silvery- 
 looking handles, and surrounded with a long 
 wreath of cypress and white dahlias. After a 
 little. Pastor Disselhof (Louisa Fliedner's hus- 
 band) came and told the deaconesses, before 
 leaving, what they were to sing. They sang 
 four verses standing as they were; then the 
 town children walked on, the pastors, six men 
 carrying the cofiin, other men, and the band ; 
 then the deaconesses and others, three and 
 three, and so on, singing and moving slowly
 
 KAIGERSWERTH. I07 
 
 we came to the *' Gottes-acker ; " round the 
 grave we 'Stood, — the open grave with the 
 coffin laid in it ; a hymn was given out and 
 sung, and then Pastor Disselhof. as if blessing 
 the grave with uplifted hands, repeated, ' Oh 
 death, where is thy sting ? ' He then read 
 Luke vii. 11-16 and spoke first of the scenes 
 of this week, — Monday and Tuesday such a 
 joyful feast, the anniversary of the beginning 
 of the Institution when so many pastors, 
 strangers, and every deaconess who can come, 
 gather together, and have such rejoicing, now 
 the last day of the week. Sister Joanna's 
 funeral, reminding us that in the midst of life 
 we are in death ; but this is also a joyful thing 
 when we think of her now, and we may take 
 the text for the day, * Weep not,' as our con- 
 solation. After giving .the reasons why we 
 need not weep, he told the story of her life, — 
 her father's death, her work for her mother and 
 young brother, her confirmation and taking 
 God from that day as hers, — not a sudden 
 change, but a growing change, as sure as 
 the growth of a living tree ; then her school-
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 change from that at Kaiserswerth for awhile, 
 change again to Elburg ; but she ever said her 
 heart was here. Her whole heart was in her 
 work, — her day-school, her teaching of the 
 people in after hours, her Sunday-school, num- 
 bering one hundred at least ; her sorrow that 
 she could give little at Christmas made her, 
 though very shy, go every year from house to 
 house begging and getting a great deal, enough 
 to clothe her children. Her love for Kaisers- 
 werth and wish to help in the work, made her 
 get the children to work and send the produce 
 here. Her home life and patience, waiting 
 God's will, though longing for active service 
 for Him, and then her joy at coming here at 
 last and becoming a deaconess, — all this was 
 told. She had come a sinner to the Saviour, 
 and though timid and shy, overcame all for 
 love to Him. It was as the Lord was going 
 into Nain, ' pleasantness,' He met the corpse 
 coming out, and as He found death then, so 
 may he now in his pleasant place ; but He has 
 conquered death, it has now no sting. At 7 
 o'clock this evening the bells rang for half an
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I09 
 
 hour, — joy bells for the morrow. In the men- 
 tion of Sister Joanna, they always speak of her 
 as the ' home-gone sister,' — unser hciingegangene 
 Schwestcr.'' 
 
 " Sunday. — The preparation for next Sunday's 
 communion. Read at pra3'ers at a quarter to 
 seven, i Cor. xi. 13. Sister Carietten prayed 
 that this Sunday might be a day of growth, — 
 of being clothed anew in Christ's righteous- 
 ness, — a day in which we might more entirely 
 give ourselves to Jesus, and feel what a 
 blessed thing it is to live for Him, to work for 
 Him, to devote our strength to Him who first 
 loved us and gave Himself for us. The prayers 
 for the king are very beautiful, for the queen 
 and all in authority, the pastor and the mother. 
 I helped tu dress some of the wounds ; then 
 church at a quarter before ten. They first 
 sang, then read the same epistle and gospel 
 as our own, then Proverbs vii., then a prayer ; 
 after whicn, those were desired to remain who 
 wished tu receive the communion next Sunday. 
 A coniession and absolution, r nd a kind of form 
 of self-e::amination was read bv Pastor Striker,
 
 no KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 whom I do not yet well understand ; at each 
 part there was a pause : then, ask yourselves 
 these questions, and let all who can join in 
 answering yes. The Lord's Prayer and the 
 beautiful Levitical blessing closed the service. 
 Soon after, the sister came with an invitation 
 from the pastor for me to dine with him, which 
 I did at 12. He spoke little, for his cough 
 is very severe ; first the text for the day was 
 read, then the Psalm by his children, and 
 dinner began, — soup, plates of gruel, which 
 was sweet with raisins in it, then boiled meat, 
 beans, and potatoes, afterwards fresh plums. 
 After dinner the pastor gave one of his sons 
 a poem to read aloud ; he read a few short 
 missionary anecdotes, and we sang a hymn 
 before grace was said. Then the sisters who 
 are to go off to-morrow were told of their 
 journey arrangements, and one, for the first 
 time, heard she was to go. The pastor told 
 me I might, after service at the village church, 
 go out with the parish sister on her rounds. 
 I did so, and came back at 3 to the ser- 
 vice, which is, on this Sunday in the month,
 
 KAISERSWERTH. Ill 
 
 more of a missionary meeting. At 5, went to 
 the sick and spent a few minutes with Sister 
 Reichardt before 7, then supper of rice and 
 milk. From 8 to 9.30, I was at Sister Ca- 
 rietten's teaching of the * Probe Schwestern ;' 
 she certainly enters into the spirit of the 
 * Haus Ordnung,' of which she read paragraph 
 9, the family bond ; the deaconesses and no- 
 vices owing obedience to those over them as 
 children to parents, — the spirit of being ever 
 ready to serve God in our fellows, remember- 
 ing, * Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the 
 least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto 
 Me.' All must be in the spirit of love, — not to 
 gain love for ourselves, but to draw hearts to 
 the Lamb of God. To hold ourselves ever in 
 readiness to serve Him, to think nothing too 
 small, and so we shall be ready for greater 
 works and further submission, if He see fit to 
 call us to any great work." 
 
 ** Tuesday. — Breakfast and prayers, attending 
 patients and sitting with them. Tried to ex- 
 plain a little of Luke xv. to Louisa and the 
 others before dinner ; afterwards went with sis-
 
 112 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 ters Emilie and Frederica to the churchyard ; 
 saw the spot the pastor has chosen for him- 
 self, and also the sisters' graves, a stone with 
 name, age, date of death, and a text, headed 
 by a dove flying among stars. At 2, the ' Lied 
 Stunde,' which is Sister Carietten explaining 
 the Scripture references to the hymns ; then 
 Sister R.'s class on 2 Timothy iii. ; then I 
 went back with her to her room for a talk, 
 which I always much enjoy ; then to the sick, 
 and helped in the dressings, etc., till after 6, 
 when I went to visit Sister Sophie, who is 
 very kind to me. 
 
 In a letter home of this same date she 
 says, — 
 
 " I am as happy here as the day is long, 
 and it does not seem half long enough, but 
 with all my contentment, till your letter came 
 yesterday there was something wanting, and 
 now I am looking forward to more home news, 
 so you will think me greedy. Except a little 
 with Sister Lebussa — a countess who is nurs- 
 ing-sister here, and who speaks English well — 
 it is German all day, and I think I am im-
 
 KAISERSWERTH. IIJ 
 
 proving. Every one is so busy here, one can't 
 spend much time talking, but had you seen 
 our lively walking party to-day, you would not 
 have feared my being moped. You would be 
 amused at the horror they have here of a most 
 attractive English Protestant sister, who came, 
 I fancy, from Windsor, but when they found 
 out her views she was sent away. Their love 
 for Miss Nightingale is so great ; she was only 
 a few months here, but they so long to see her 
 again. I was asking much about her ; such a 
 loving and lovely womanly character hers must 
 be, and so religious. Sister S. told me many 
 of the sick remembered much of her teaching, 
 and some died happily, blessing her for having 
 led them to Jesus. I have not seen Louisa 
 Fliedner yet, but have heard her husband preach 
 twice so beautifully ; he speaks so clearly and 
 slowly I understand him wonderfully well ; he 
 is a tall remarkable-looking man, and with his 
 old-fashioned preaching gown, especially when, 
 as at the funeral the other day, he wore his 
 cap, reminds me always of one of the old Re- 
 formers. 
 
 I
 
 114 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 "Journal, Wednesday. — Hospital: read to 
 Louisa * Jesus nimmt die Sunder an,' and 
 talked of it to her. Went to ask Sister Sophie 
 to let me dress as a ' Probe Schwester,' as I 
 think then both sisters and sick will allow me 
 to do more when my dress does not every mo- 
 ment remind them that I am a stranger and a 
 lady. After dinner I had a very nice walk with 
 Sister Carietten, who is now, as I thought, in 
 Hedwig's place. The two were dear friends ; 
 Hedwig has now two children. Every Wed- 
 nesday evening Pastor Disselhof has a Bible 
 class for the sisters in the hall. Unfortunately, 
 I w^as far off and could not hear well as he 
 spoke low." 
 
 " Thursday. — T^Iorning, as usual, spent in the 
 hospital ; after dinner walked to the Schloss 
 garden, near Calcum, with Sister Anna, who 
 writes for the pastor; she was only made a 
 deaconess at the last anniversary, and she is 
 going home to-morrow for a week's visit to her 
 parents, who so rejoice in her having become 
 a sister that they wish to see her as such. 
 Whe;i I came in, finding my dress would not
 
 KAISERSWERTH. II5 
 
 soon be ready, I thought it better to put on my 
 cap, and so went to Sister Sophie's room. At 
 3, to Sister Reichardt's Bible lesson in the sick- 
 room ; then to her own room, where I sat with 
 her till near 5 ; returned to the hospital till 
 6.30. At 8, Pastor Strieker came into the hall 
 to give the sisters a Bible lesson." 
 
 *' Friday. — Prayers, Luke xv., and a beau- 
 tiful prayer on the chapter. Then I, having 
 made my bed and arranged my room before 
 breakfast, went to the hospital, and am to-day 
 happier than I have yet been, for I was al- 
 lowed to do many little things for the patients, 
 — make beds, dress wounds, hear a child her 
 lessons, and help a blind one in her prepara- 
 tion for the pastor's evening class. A little 
 after i , Sister Sophie came to tell me the 
 pastor was waiting in her room to see me. I 
 went to him, and after giving me a book on 
 parish work, he asked me to walk a little in 
 the garden with him. He is most anxious I 
 should spend the whole winter here. Lord 
 guide and direct me, teach me what I should 
 do ; if I am to stay here, show me Thy will ; 
 
 I 2
 
 Il6 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 if it SO please Thee by putting it into the 
 hearts of others to give me work, by enabling 
 me to do anything that comes in my way, with 
 a single eye to Thy glory, and by helping me 
 to get on with German. Lord, let me learn 
 what Thou seest best to prepare me for any 
 work Thou mayest yet call me to. Enable 
 me to grow in the knowledge of what may 
 help others, but, above all, in the knowledge 
 of Thee my Saviour, from Whom comes the 
 will to work for Thee. Every day and hour I 
 feel this is a place where they understand 
 training, and where one may, slowly perhaps 
 but all the more surely, be really grounded and 
 brought on. The pastor said such a true word, 
 *We are too apt to be contented with spend- 
 ing our own strength, and not think enough of 
 training up others to take our places when God 
 sees fit to remove us.' At 2 o'clock, went 
 with Sister Sophie to visit Frau Pastor Dis- 
 selhof and her lunatic asylum ; I should any- 
 where have recognized the Louisa Fliedner of 
 old, but her three fine children keep her now 
 too busy to be as formerly the superintendent ;
 
 KAISERSWERTH. IZf 
 
 and though she still has the direction of the 
 institution, Sister Amelia, who took us over it, 
 is the active head. At 5, I returned to the 
 hospital much engrossed with the thoughts of 
 the letter I wrote to my mother before going to 
 bed, about remaining here for the winter. It 
 seems the wisest plan, now I am here, but 
 God can show me my way clearly. If I am to 
 stay, I trust He will be my Teacher and pre- 
 pare me for whatever He may call me to do, 
 if He so honours me as to allow me to work 
 for Him ; and if it be to return, oh, how gladly 
 shall I meet my own dear ones, and return to 
 my loved people and happy work. The inde- 
 cision kept me awake nearly all night, and I 
 trust that my wakefulness may be blessed to 
 my choice, enabling me as it did again and 
 again to seek direction from Him Whom they 
 call here so beautifully, * unser heimsuchen 
 Gott." I trust by all now and hereafter He 
 may lay upon me, it is more and more seeking 
 to bring me home to Himself." 
 
 ** Saturday. — At 5.30, I went to the hospital, 
 and God seems already answering my prayer ;
 
 Il8 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 I found SO many little things I could do to 
 help. I had not time till near dinner to take 
 my letter to the post-office room. I am really 
 now at home in my station, and Sister Gret- 
 chen, who is its head, is so kind that she 
 gives me work to do. I am sorry to think I 
 am soon to leave it, and a little nervous about 
 going to the men's hospital on Monday." 
 
 ** October ist. — Met Sister Sophie, and asked 
 her to let me wait for my dress before I go 
 to the men's hospital. I am very nervous 
 about this going, and want to be as like those 
 usually about them as possible, no distinguish- 
 ing mark to make me seem different. Read to 
 Caroline Romans viii., which she seemed to 
 enjoy ; then to Louisa, and taught the little 
 girl her texts. At 3.30 to the church for the 
 * Stille Stunde,' which lasts thirty minutes. 
 Two verses of a hymn are sung, then each 
 reads or prays quietly for the rest of the time. 
 At 4, one sister repeats aloud the Lord's 
 Prayer, and we separate ; I, to the English 
 lesson I am to give daily to Sister L. ; then 
 preparmg the sick for the night, and a short
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 119 
 
 time in Sister Sophie's room. To-day the 
 Reichardt sisters started for Duisberg to meet 
 their brother. Sister R. came to bid me good- 
 bye, praying God to go with them and to re- 
 main with us. How glorious is the thought 
 of His eternal omniscience and omnipresence, 
 here and at Fahan. Sister C. came to see my 
 room to-day ; she said, ' I like its number, 
 103, it reminds me of the 103rd Psalm.' I 
 thanked her in my heart for the word. Truly 
 I can say, 'Forget not all His benefits;' how 
 many and great they are. ' Lobet den Herr, 
 Er ist freundlich ;' friendly, yes, my friend here 
 among strangers." 
 
 " Tuesday. — Found my dress in my room on 
 returning from Pastor D.'s class ; as soon as 
 ready, I went to show myself to Sister Sophie, 
 and ask for my new name. ' Sister Agnes.' 
 She said she would take me this evening to 
 the Men's Hospital, so, after giving my English 
 lesson, I went to her. Sister M. in the wards 
 is different from any sister I have yet come 
 in contact with, but she seems very handy, 
 and well fitted for her post. I hope I may
 
 I20 KAISERS\VERTH. 
 
 learn much from her. I go with trembling, 
 but it encourages me to feel I have made 
 friends here, in the sorrow of the sisters and 
 patients in the wards I am leaving. Truly 
 it is of the Lord. I, a poor stranger, scarcely 
 understanding or understood, have found favour 
 through His loving aid, have been led so far, 
 and kept from ' Heimweh,' and even here am 
 called to do a work for Him as one of His. 
 I almost feel as if the Lord had some purpose 
 in bringing me here; He is so keeping me 
 from undue longing for my friends and people." 
 *' October ^rd. — I cannot express all the affec- 
 tion of the women in the hospital is to me. 
 It is more (with reverence be it spoken) as a 
 revelation of the presence with me of Him 
 Who is the ever present friend. A busy day 
 for me, which is also a blessing to be thankful 
 for, kindness heaped on me on every side. 
 Why ? I cannot tell. Whence ? Surely but 
 of the Lord, and yet to-day there is a burden 
 on this poor little faithless heart. The dif- 
 ficulty of understanding and being understood ; 
 perhaps I have not been exerting myself
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 121 
 
 enough to get on with the language. In the 
 morning, helped in the female ward till break- 
 fast. At 7, to the men's hospital. Sister M., 
 to my great delight, put me at once to work ; 
 first, washing the glasses, etc. used by the 
 sick during the night, then dusting and wash- 
 ing furniture in the bed-rooms, seeing the 
 dressing of the wounds, etc., washing up of 
 breakfast things, and then I was sent to sit 
 in the room with a dying man. Could I have 
 chosen my work, it would have been this ; 
 but, oh, how I longed for words ! and yet I 
 feared to speak, partly because he was too 
 weak for the exertion of mind to understand 
 me ; partly, because I was unwilling he should 
 know my ignorance of the language, lest he 
 should be nervous at the thought of my not 
 understanding his wants. But I could pray 
 for him, and it was so sweet to think One 
 was there who could do all without my help, 
 and Who could hear my prayer, and answer 
 the poor sick man's oft repeated cry, * Lieber 
 Heiland, hilf mich.' His constant cough was 
 very distressing, yet he scarcely seems to me
 
 122 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 SO near death as they think him. After dinner, 
 returned to my post. At 2, Pastor S.'s class: 
 then my EngUsh lesson, and then to men's 
 hospital again till 7 ; after tea, a visit to Sister 
 G., and then to the female wards to say good- 
 night to my friends." 
 
 One or two letters about this date give 
 further details of the proposed change in her 
 plans : — 
 
 ''My darling Mother, — This has been 
 such a day of visiting and variety, that between 
 thoughts of everything I see and hear, — > 
 thoughts of you and J., and so many, many 
 thoughts of all my loved, so loved people, and 
 then the real hard work of constantly talking 
 and trying to understand, with the nervous- 
 ness of my talks with the two pastors to-day ; 
 all this has made me feel rather tired to-night, 
 but it is the first time I have felt so. I must 
 tell you of my day : as usual, up at 5 ; hos- 
 pital for half an hour; at 6.15, breakfast and 
 prayers ; at 7, hospital again until 10.30, when 
 I was called to the head sister's room to 
 Pastor Fliedner. Now I must tell you that
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I23 
 
 I fancied he had forgotten me, for except the 
 dinner on Sunday, at which he scarcely spoke, 
 I have not seen him. With all his bad health, 
 however (consumption), it is wonderful how he 
 is yet the head and mainspring of this great 
 establishment ; and how training others for 
 usefulness is understood by him, and by those 
 who are the heads of the different divisions. 
 Now there is Sister Sophie, the hospital super- 
 intendent, no matter at what hour I go to visit 
 her, some one comes in at every moment for 
 directions, or to tell how such-and-such a 
 thing is going on ; yet every little detail I am to 
 see and know, everything I should be present 
 at, a message comes to me, — nothing ever 
 seems forgotten. But to return to the pastor : 
 though he is not very formidable, a little 
 quaking one came in to him. He had a book 
 of his printed directions for parish visiting to 
 give me, and then asked me to take a walk 
 with him in the garden. I was soon quite at my 
 ease, and we were talking busily. He spoke 
 most strongly to me of what he himself has 
 quite acted up to — of our not only seeking to
 
 124 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 be ourselves useful, but to be the preparers of 
 others to take our place : and that, if nothing 
 else, is the art here. He then spoke most 
 wisely and kindly to me about the uselessness 
 of spending only six weeks here. Till to-day, 
 never had the thought of a longer stay here 
 come to me. But there was so much wisdom 
 in his words that this day has been one of 
 much thought on the subject. It was hard 
 to tear myself away from home and poor, 
 but now I am here, is it not better to stay 
 and learn thoroughly, not by halves ? on the 
 other hand, is it leaving a plain clearly given 
 work for another ? Were my life to be limited 
 to a few 3^ears at Fahan, six weeks here might 
 do, but what if longer life is before me, may 
 I not be called and enabled to do more, if 
 prepared with God's blessing ? But, oh, my 
 heart goes so after my people ! Whatever you 
 decide for me, mother darling, to return home 
 or to remain here is alike to me. So much 
 is to be said on both sides, I feel either would 
 make mc happy, and yet in either I shall 
 Lave something to regret in losing the other.'*
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I25 
 
 ''Journal, Thursday. — A fortnight here, and 
 in looking back I can take courage and go on 
 trusting Him who has helped me hitherto. 
 Got up very headachy, but went at 5.30 to the 
 hospital; made beds, etc. till breakfast, then 
 back to work : the dying man is weaker to- 
 day ; read to one ill with dropsy John v. and 
 a hymn." 
 
 ** Saturday. — A walk to-day with some con- 
 valescents ; still undecided about the winter. 
 Mamma's letter leaving me free choice when 
 I had hoped to have the decision made for 
 me. May God guide me ; home, country, and 
 poor are very very dear, and yet now I am here, 
 should I not stay and learn ?" 
 
 The letter in which she acknowledges my 
 mother's reply to her request for leave to re- 
 main the winter is as follows : — 
 
 *' My darling Mother, — A thousand loving 
 thanks for your letter, received Saturday, and 
 for the free choice you give me. It is hard 
 to choose, for home is home, and kind friends 
 are not mother and sister, and a strange 
 tongue keeping one on the strain in speaking
 
 126 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 and listening, is a barrier to free intercourse ; 
 still I am happy here, and when wishes will go 
 homewards, I think of the future, and pray to 
 return wiser and better to enjoy a hundred 
 times more, and feel, oh so deeply, the bless- 
 ings of a home. To me the deaconess calling 
 is a problem ; as a Christian, feehng and 
 knowing I am n;.t my own, and that all time 
 and strength and powers are to be rendered 
 back to the Great Giver of all, I think every 
 one is as much called on as a deaconess is, 
 to work for Him who first loved us ; but if this 
 -does not constrain us as Christians, neither will 
 it as deaconesses, and certainly the ' Anstalt ' 
 is a world in which the Martha-spirit may be 
 found as well as in the outer v/orld. There are 
 many most deeply taught Christians here, 
 many whose faces shine, but I should say, 
 comparing my home life (but few have such a 
 home) with that of the deaconesses here, I 
 should say, that in many positions here, there 
 are more, not only daily but hourly tempta- 
 tions. There are great privileges, teaching, 
 worship, means of grace, two pastors for the
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 12^ 
 
 Institution besides Pastor Fliedner. While he 
 lives, he will be the ruling spirit, but it is in 
 the direction and supervision of all, by private 
 walks and talks with the deaconesses, — by- 
 writing books and letters : he is too delicate for 
 anything public. It is w^onderful to think that 
 he is the head of upwards of fifty establish- 
 ments ; 250 deaconesses and nearly 400 novices, 
 — this is twenty-four years' work. The pastors 
 are most evangelical and earnest; Pastor 
 Strieker, who has for many years been here, 
 is one deeply learned in the Scriptures, but 
 Pastor Disselhof is to me more attractive, 
 because more easily understood. I longed on 
 Sunday for Aunt J.'s power of reproducing a 
 sermon ; his, though quite extempore, was so 
 perfect in its arrangements, so clear and 
 earnest, so simple yet attractive. I have gone 
 far, however, from what I sat down to write 
 of my plans ; yet piano I cannot call them, 
 for as it is hard for you to give, so is it hard for 
 me to ask leave to stay, and yet I feel as if 
 I ought to do so, after the wrench it was 
 leaving home. I can say, as the German so
 
 128 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 beautifully expresses it, ' Der Herr ist freund- 
 lich,' for I am happy and contented; and yet 
 when one comes to look into the life here, it 
 has scarcely a point of resemblance to what I 
 have been accustomed to. I do not find time 
 for half I want to do ; 1 am in the male hos- 
 pital, under such a clever trainer, she vv^ill 
 not overlook the smallest thing, and yet is 
 kind withal. I give an English lesson every 
 day, and my pupil is going to give me a 
 German half-hour. I hope to bring J. back 
 the seed of a creeper which is so pretty nov/, 
 with its bright red autumn leaves ; they say 
 this is the prettiest time for it, as the flower 
 is small and colourless. My idea is to remain 
 here as long as I feel I can learn anything, 
 and then perhaps to go to Elberfeld, or one 
 of the other Institutions near, and then home 
 soon after Christmas; but, of course, circum- 
 stances must influence ; we plan, God arranges 
 and directs. My own darling mother, I would 
 say to you as I often do to myself, let us not 
 look forward further than to count the cost, 
 if it be needful that this should be the be-
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I29 
 
 ginning of a longer separation. The present 
 training is only taking advantage of the op- 
 portunity given me, and I trust ere long, if it 
 be God's will to spare and bless us all, we may 
 have a happy meeting. Whatever be the right 
 way, I trust God will show, it to us plainly ! 
 but, as I said before, my own darling, your 
 wishes shall be my guide, now and for the 
 future, as long as I am blessed with such a 
 loving counsellor. I trust my present training 
 in obedience will not be lost in reference to 
 home. And yet, little as I ever was to you of 
 what I should have been, yours is the hardest 
 trial in the separation. I often ask myself, 
 why is this ? Why have I chosen to stay 
 here? Theoretically it is easier to have my 
 free will at home, than, as here, to have to be 
 under orders,* — even at school or meal hours 
 
 * The following sentence in a recent pamphlet by the Rev. A, 
 Moody Stuart seems to. suggest one cause of the non-success of Dea- 
 coness Institutions in England ; Agnes often said the most valuable 
 lesson she learned at Kaiserswerth was that of implicit ohC' 
 dience: — 
 
 " In visiting the Protestant Hospital of Kaiserswerth, it is hum- 
 
 K
 
 130 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 I must tell the head sister why I leave the 
 room, etc. There is more variety and seeming 
 usefulness in visiting my poor than in trying to 
 please little children or feeding sick ones the 
 greater part of the day, and yet though I so 
 theorize, I feel it is good for me to be here 
 whatever may be before me. God has given 
 me a happy, contented spirit ; may He only 
 enable me, more and more, to give my heart 
 and soul and spirit as I have given myself more 
 entirely to Him. Home, and my loved ones 
 and poor, never were so dear. God can 
 strengthen for whatever He appoints when the 
 time comes. My own darling, ever believe 
 your child's love. 
 
 " A. E. Jones." 
 
 ** Journal, Stcnday, October, i860. — After 
 church, sat with the dying man as usual ; after 
 
 bling and instructive to hear that the evangelical congregations of 
 Britain furnish less useful sick-nurses than the churches tinged with 
 ritualism : because the nurses that come from us are more anxious 
 to take charge and to administer medicines than to obey, to learn, 
 to serve. In the German nurses it is beautiful to see the spirit of 
 self-denial and submission and service.'*
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 131: 
 
 dinner, went with Sister L. to see a ' poor 
 woman ; took charge of the women's hospital 
 while the sisters were at church, and read a 
 little in each of the four rooms. After tea, from 
 8 to 9, ' Bet-Stunde :' at this it is usual to read 
 over the list of names of the deaconesses, their 
 various positions and occupations, before the 
 beginning of the prayer." 
 
 " Wednesday. — Last night, indeed, since Mon- 
 day, very unwell, and to-day I had to lie in bed 
 and the doctor came ; but though feeling worse 
 than I ever remember to have done before with 
 dreadful spasms, and fearing a long illness, God 
 kept me quiet and enabled me to feel only my 
 many blessings ; only for one moment did an 
 overwhelming longing for my mother's hand 
 about me, come over me, and that, perhaps, 
 was allowed to show the blessing of being kept 
 so peacefully contented, * Oh, forget not all His 
 benefits.' Such kindness and love from all 
 around. I chose to have read Hebrews v. and 
 Psalm xxvii., and felt them to come home." 
 
 " Thursday. — Weak, but out of bed and sat 
 in dear Sister S.'s room some time ; read a
 
 132 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 little and enjoyed the * Stille-Stunde ' in the 
 church ; thankful for strength to go there." 
 
 *^ Friday. — Hospital as usual." 
 
 ••'* Saturday. — Sat much of the day with Bru- 
 nig, who still lingers ; at night studied the 
 Gospel as of old for Sunday-school, and hope to 
 make it a practice every Saturday, and, with 
 God's help, to find a blessing." 
 
 ** I'jth. — Men's hospital all day ; no walk. 
 Sister L. heard that she is to go to Syria, on 
 Monday, for two months." 
 
 " 20^/j.— Days come and go with little variety ; 
 no time now for visits, and only now and then 
 for a peep at Sister Sophie ; to-day she took 
 me to see the asylum where I am to go on 
 Monday." 
 
 Some further details of her life, during this 
 first month at Kaiserswerth, may be taken from 
 her letters : — 
 
 " Your last letter amused me very much, dear 
 over-anxious little mother, so, to put your mind 
 at ease, let me tell you, first, as to fires in our 
 rooms, we have stoves and every requisite, and 
 here, in five minutes, with no trouble, one has
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I33 
 
 a hot fire ; but I never have one and enjoy my 
 cooler room, for the hot dry air from the stoves 
 is very trying; then, as to the cleaning of my 
 tiny room — not larger than J.'s dressing-room 
 • — it is a simple quiet process in the style adop- 
 ted here, and I need not do it, but as there are 
 no servants and the deaconesses do everything, 
 I was shamed into doing all myself by seeing 
 my neighbour, w^ho is eighty, every day clean- 
 ing her far larger room. I have now only eight 
 classes a week, for the 'mother' thought I had 
 too many lessons to give ; my pupils had really 
 become a most engrossing interest, though at 
 first I found my classes a nervous and difficult 
 business; now I am, with the exception of my 
 class hours, from 7 till 7 with fourteen sick 
 boys ; some, to my sorrow, are too well, for 
 the walk with them, and, worse still, the keep- 
 ing them at lessons or work, is no easy task 
 when I am left, as is sometimes the case, in 
 sole charge. The very sick and very young 
 ones are a great interest, but I get on wonder- 
 fully with all, in spite of my want of the art of 
 government. I am often a subject of merri-
 
 134 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 ment, as 5^ou may suppose, from my ignorance 
 of the language ; but, to my delight, I can now 
 teach the sick and very young their texts. 
 Yesterday I was a long time with a dear in- 
 valid sister, who was so much better, we mu- 
 tually enjoyed a long talk; the doctor thought 
 her recovering, but to-day she has broken a 
 blood-vessel ; perhaps I may never see her 
 alive again. She said to me yesterday, * Don't 
 you pity me getting better ?' It is to me an 
 encouraging thought that He who knows all 
 things, knew and pitied her weakness, and so 
 would not call on the little strength to meet 
 the world again. He, too, knows my weakness, 
 and will help me in whatever service He allows 
 me to engage in. I do sometimes long for 
 home-sights and voices, my mother's face and 
 kiss, and for special walks and views at Fahan, 
 for all my poor ; how often they are thought of 
 and prayed for ! I want to know so much about 
 them all, — they can never think of me more 
 than I think of them, — I could send a thousand 
 loves. The pastor is more and more a wonder 
 to me, — his great desire to make his work re-
 
 KAISERSWERTH. IjD 
 
 productive ; he told me he was so disappointed 
 to find Mrs. Fry's work, about which they had 
 consulted together, so much a limited one, as 
 he says, the nurse's sphere is so limited in com- 
 parison to what it might be, and also that there 
 is no attempt made to raise them by mental 
 culture; when one sees the new-comers here 
 often, one feels what a work of love and pa- 
 tience will be needed before they can be made 
 gentle or refined, and this last word is, what to 
 a certain point, might.apply to all the deaconess- 
 es ; there is such gentleness and refinement 
 even about those whom one knows to be of the 
 lower classes ; it is not to say they are perfect, 
 — all speak of peculiar temptations, and of be- 
 setting sins, but there is such a repose even in 
 their activity. On Saturday there was a tele- 
 gram from Pastor D. from Syria, for an imme- 
 diate reinforcement of sisters ; so that after- 
 noon, two started off to bid their parents good- 
 bye ; they returned on Monday to leave at day- 
 break on Tuesday. The parents of one were 
 sickly and old, and they objected to the dis- 
 tance ; in such cases the pastor always makes
 
 136 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 home the first duty, and sends the sisters there 
 at any time they are really wanted ; so a sister 
 who was to have gone to Berlin goes to Syria 
 instead. She arrived here on Monday night at 
 midnight, heard the change in her destination, 
 and was off before six, so it is sometimes quick 
 w^ork ; but I do not see how when one's life is 
 given, it much matters where it is spent. The 
 rule here is that every sister visits home every 
 third year." 
 
 *' October, i860, — It has-been such a pleasure 
 that to-day I was able to follow Pastor S.'s 
 sermon ; he is a most holy man, mighty in the 
 Scriptures, but one whom hitherto I have not 
 been able to understand well. It is always 
 such a pleasure to me that the Epistle and 
 Gospel are the same as our own, — a chapter in 
 the Old Testament is read and a confession, 
 also the creed, but the prayers are m^ostly ex- 
 tempore. I enjoy the truly evangelical teach- 
 ing. To-morrow will be the king's birthday, 
 and there will be special services. Daily the 
 church is open for half an hour, and all who 
 can go to the ' Stille-Stunde,' — silent, except
 
 KAISERSWERTH. ^ I37 
 
 when a verse is sung at the opening and the 
 Lord's Prayer read at the close. My friend 
 Sister Gretchen is leaving to-morrov/ ; there 
 are such constant changes ; then a call comes 
 from a distance, the best are sent off and new 
 ones trained in their place. It is a comfort to 
 think Sister Sophie, my mother here, will not 
 be sent away while she has strength for her 
 most arduous post. The king is very kind and 
 has always taken much interest in the Institu- 
 tion, which he once visited. A deaconesses' 
 house was lately burned at Beyrout or Smyrna, 
 I forget which, and he has written to tell the 
 pastor he will provide bedding and linen, etc. ; 
 and as he wishes to give employment to Berlin 
 manufacturers, he says, if directions are sent as 
 to what is required, all shall be prepared and 
 forwarded. Sunday is the great day here for 
 celebrations, so yesterday was the harvest 
 home. The girls and orphans having helped in 
 the field-work, had the ' Feste ' in their re- 
 spective houses at 7 o'clock. There had been 
 great preparations going on all day, — wreaths 
 of flowers and every variety of vegetables dis-
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 played, all done with so much taste ; it looked 
 very gay when Pastor Strieker arrived. After 
 reading and explaining the looth Psalm, he said 
 grace, and the feast began with the most hor- 
 rible beer-soup, which all seemed to enjo}', but 
 I could not touch ; potatoes fried in butter, 
 onion-salad, and cold sausages, etc. Then the 
 pastor, sisters, and mother told stories, which, 
 with singing, kept us till 9.30. The mother's 
 stories interested me much, being on the sub- 
 ject of answers to prayer and trials of faith as 
 to the supply of the money wants of the Insti- 
 tution. We have lovely weather now, and such 
 nights ! the moon and stars are so lovely I do 
 not light my candle to dress or sweep my room 
 in the morning ; I do all by moonlight, and am 
 over at my post at six. Lady M. F.'s parcel of 
 pamphlets was such a delight to me ; 3^ou 
 can't know the pleasure I anticipate in reading 
 them. I so long to know what goes on in my 
 own land and how the truth is spreading there. 
 Death has been busy here ; yesterday we had, 
 in the afternoon, the funeral of a novice, and in 
 the evening the funeral sermon of a sister who
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I39 
 
 died in Jerusalem ; a pearl, indeed, not twenty- 
 one, but the pride of the pastor, whose spiritual 
 daughter she truly was. She had been brought 
 as an orphan, only nine years old, to the Or- 
 phan House here." 
 
 "Journal, Oct, 2ist. — This has been a day 
 of varied feelings ; the communion was to be 
 administered to the four sisters who are leaving, 
 and any others who wished to receive it. Pastor 
 Fliedner was able to take a part in the service ; 
 and, indeed, one felt it good to be there to hear 
 the simple yet impressive prayer after the con- 
 fession, and, above all, the thrilling address to 
 the sisters before administering the sacrament. 
 He repeated the narrative of the angel feeding 
 Elijah with food, in the strength of which he 
 went forty days on his journey. ' So too,' he 
 said, ' are you called on a journey, but it is a 
 high calling, a following in His footsteps Who 
 went forth to seek the lost. You need strength 
 not only to meet outward, but inward tempta- 
 tions, and you have well done that you have 
 come in these outward symbols to seek to grasp 
 the inward thing signified. You, too, Iriends
 
 I40 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 and acquaintances who will thus bid your 
 sisters farewell, have well done that you have 
 come.' After dinner, I ran for my Bible and 
 went up, as usual, to sit with Brunig ; the door 
 was locked and I turned away, thinking the 
 attendant was there ; not far from the door the 
 old servant saw me and said, ' Do you wish to 
 go in ?' * Yes, but the door is locked.' ' Oh, I 
 will open it.' He did so, and there lay a corpse. 
 He had died while we were at dinner, and 
 Sister M. did not like to send for me. I felt 
 his death very much, for we are not quite happy 
 about him. At 7.30, after the dressings of 
 wounds, I bid adieu to the men's hospital, and 
 Sister L. came to m.e for a long farewell ; we 
 may never meet again, but I shall not soon for- 
 get her kindness to a stranger, and hope I have 
 learned a lesson from her of sympathy and ten- 
 derness. \Ve then w^ent to the hall ; before 
 the pastor and mother were ranged to the right 
 the nine last arrived novices, who were to be 
 welcomed, and to the left the four sisters of 
 whom leave was to be taken. After a few words 
 of prayer for blessing, the 121st Psalm was
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I4I 
 
 read ; the * welcome ' sung, and a prayer for 
 help in the difficulties and trials before them, 
 for blessings on their work here, and for perse- 
 verance to the end, the pastor and mother then 
 went forward and shook hands with each, add- 
 ing a few words of welcome ; then the pastor 
 gave an address, showing his views and object 
 in sending out the sisters ; then he read Psalm 
 xci., and spoke to the deaconesses. Hymns 
 appropriate to the occasion were sung, and then 
 the Levitical blessing from the pastor, he lay- 
 ing his hand on the head of each ; he and 
 the mother then took leave, she lingering to 
 whisper a few last words. Friends pressed 
 round ; L. and I ran together into the passage, 
 hoping for a few quiet minutes, but we were 
 separated in the crowd, for it was late and not 
 a moment to spare, so I came to my room, 
 having indeed lost a friend, and yet I like to 
 call her one, who has gone to help Syrian 
 Christians, sent by England's means to the 
 work. It was 9.30 when they started ; they 
 were to travel all night, and arrive late to-mor- 
 row at Berlin."
 
 143 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 ** Nov. 4th. — I come over from the other 
 house every morning at six, the ground white 
 and windows frozen over; often at 3 in the 
 afternoon the water outside is still frozen, yet 
 night or morning I never put on bonnet or 
 handkerchief, unless when I go out for w^alk. I 
 was practising cupping on a patient last Satur- 
 day, but must have another trial soon. The 
 letters from Syria are most interesting ; both 
 hospital and orphan house at Beyrout are to be 
 begun at once." Two sisters have been there 
 for some weeks ; both were ill, one in fever, the 
 other dysentery ; the latter, however, was 
 obliged to go about, having the sole charge of 
 twelve orphans and sixteen sick. Fancy her 
 joy on opening the door one evening to see the 
 unexpected party from this, — Pastor D. and the 
 sisters. All here are so kind, but no place is 
 like home, so if you wish for me at any time, 
 only say so, and gladly and unmurmuringly 
 will I go ; do remember and believe this.'" 
 
 "Monday, — Went to Sister Sophie after 
 prayers, who told me to go to the * asile.* 
 Waited a little to luxuriate in home letters.
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 143 
 
 Soon after reaching the * asile,' the Pastor sent 
 for me to ask me to give the EngHsh lessons in 
 the training-school till he can make some better 
 arrangement. Went with him to hear the ex- 
 amination of twenty-four new pupils in order to 
 test their proficiency. They wrote from dicta- 
 tion, etc., for me, and read and translated be- 
 fore the pastor. The other examinations were 
 in singing, history, and geography. This lasted 
 from 9 to 12, and again from 2 to 5.30." 
 
 ^^ Tuesday. — Pastor F. having desired me to 
 be at the seminariste at 8, I did not go further 
 than the woman's hospital before that hour. I 
 found the young women all arranged behind 
 their desks, and the teachers in their places. 
 After singing and prayer, Pastor S. read part of 
 Psalm cxix., and spoke on the passage ; Pastor 
 Fliedner then addressed them in a most affect- 
 ing manner, so that there was scarcely a dry 
 eye in the room : — ' My dear daughters in the 
 Lord, I bid you heartily welcome, and I must 
 speak a few words to express my welcome ; 
 seeing fifty-eight of you here, I cannot but ex- 
 claim, '* My soul rejoiceth in the Lord, for he
 
 144 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 hath regarded my low estate. '^ I rejoice to see 
 you all here, coming in the desire to learn how 
 to lead little lambs to Jesus, to be fellow- 
 workers with Him ; but remember, he that 
 worketh must be first partaker. I feel grateful 
 to those parents who have intrusted you to our 
 care, and entreat of you to be open with the 
 mother and me, and to come to us for every 
 sympathy as you would to your own parents. 
 I rejoice, too, when I look forward ; if you are 
 faithful, what lambs you may bring to the fold 
 — what harps and crowns add to that white- 
 robed multitude now before the throne.' 
 
 " I returned to the ' asile,' and spent the day 
 there ; some were busy digging potatoes^ most 
 washing, churning, and preparing supper. The 
 rules were read to me, as they must be to 
 every new-comer and again every month or 
 six weeks before all assembled together, when 
 the daily conduct book is also read ; in this 
 are written the punishments found needful, and 
 all particulars of the dealings with each. The 
 inmates are all to come to the asylum of their 
 free will, with the full knowledge of the design
 
 KAISERSWERTH I45 
 
 of the house, being to teach them of the 
 vSaviour, and to bring them to Him, and 
 so coming with free will, it is hoped they 
 will receive the instruction here given thank- 
 fully and with gratitude to God for having led 
 them here. If, however, punishment be needed, 
 it is various. For sleeping in church, inatten- 
 tion at prayers, Scripture reading, etc. etc., 
 they are shut out from such services, and, at 
 the same time, from any pleasure or amuse- 
 ment, the walk, the singing-class, etc., perhaps 
 kept in their own room apart from others. 
 This last is also the punishment for disobe- 
 dience, quarrels, unwillingness to work. Sew- 
 ing is placed in their room, a Bible, hymn and 
 prayer-book; but when confined there, the 
 food is plainer than that of the others. Some- 
 times the idle are deprived of a meal, especially 
 when they have to be placed in the ' Dunkel- 
 Zimmer,' which is not, however, quite dark, 
 but a bare closet with only a small window in 
 it ; there is the straw with which they are to 
 make mats as their only occupation, — they are 
 only released on begging pardon. The greatest 
 
 L
 
 146 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 punishment is expulsion, seldom resorted to, 
 and when it must be done, the girl is given in 
 charge of the police. New-comers are kept 
 apart from the others. None are put out to 
 service under a year, some are kept over two. 
 They are then placed in service carefully 
 sought out for them ; while there, they are 
 written to and visited, from time to time; 
 another service found, if needed, and if they 
 are in want, through no fault of their own, 
 they are assisted. When placed out, they 
 receive clothes and everything necessaiy, Bible, 
 hymn-book, etc. The eve of their departure 
 is a holiday. If, however, any wish to leave 
 the asylum before their term expires, they are 
 not allowed to go before they have spent some 
 days quietly in their rooms, where it is hoped 
 they may come to a better mind; for which the 
 sisters pray for and with them. Here are 
 received all who had been in prison, Whether 
 thieves or otherwise fallen : full particulars 
 of their former lives must be given to the 
 sister before their coming ; no reference is 
 afterwards made directly to it, and every pains
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I47 
 
 is taken to prevent their talking over their 
 sinful doings to their companions. They rise 
 at 5, wash, dress, make their beds, and, when 
 ready, come down to the sitting-room, where 
 they learn their verses ; read or work till six, 
 which is prayer-time, then breakfast ; work till 
 9.30, bread and coffee, work again till twelve ; 
 dinner, return to work at i, having half an 
 hour's liberty between ; 3, coffee : at 7 supper ; 
 8, class or working hour ; at g, those who rose 
 at 4 for washing go to bed, the rest not till 10. 
 Scripture lessons are given during the week, 
 and reading and writing lessons to those who 
 require them. Every month the girls have 
 different work, — kitchen, attending cows and 
 pigs, house-work or washing, field labour, etc. 
 etc. 
 
 " Went to the funeral of the lady from the 
 lunatic asylum : she was a true child of God, 
 and His word could quiet her at all times ; 
 though here she walked through a dark valley, 
 now she sees Him whom she loved. Her 
 favourite psalm, 65th, is true of her ; she is 
 now praising him in Zion." 
 
 L 2
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 *' Wednesday. — Went to the asylum for prayers 
 at 6, and then with the girls to their various 
 occupations till g, then English classes," etc. 
 
 " Saturday, — On returning to-day from Co- 
 logne, where I had gone for a few hours, I met 
 at the station, to my great joy, Sister F., who 
 was on her way back from private nursing. It 
 was such a pleasure to be warmly greeted by 
 the friends whom I had left only for a few 
 hours ; a beautiful bouquet was in my room to 
 welcome me, and all so kindly and thought- 
 fully arranged. The Russian Sister C. very 
 ill in bed some days. My English classes, 
 which I so dreaded, are now great enjoyment 
 to me ; oh, when shall I learn not to burden 
 myself with fears ? how often have I tried the 
 Lord's long suffering with me in this way, and 
 yet in mercy He meets me ! The clouds I so 
 much dread, turn out ever big with mercy, 
 and yet I forget the lesson when the next trial 
 comes." 
 
 *' Sunday. — All day in the ' asile,' and with the 
 girls to church. When they went out for their 
 walk, I came over to see the Misses M.; visited
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I49 
 
 my hospital friends in female ward ; found the 
 old woman dying ; then spent an hour in the 
 parish with Sister Louisa. In church to-day, 
 before the pulpit and over the communion- 
 table, hung a crown of cypress with white 
 flowers interwoven, — the orphans' tribute to 
 one of their number who is just dead of typhus 
 fever at Jerusalem, where she w^as labouring as 
 deaconess." 
 
 *' Wednesday. — The two asylum girls who are 
 to be confirmed were examined to-day in the 
 church. Sister S. told me that Sister A. said 
 to her one day, ' I should like it to be written on 
 my tombstone, — Here lies one with wdiom the 
 Lord has had great patience, but who, through 
 free grace, is with Him.' " 
 
 " Saturday, Nov. lotli. — Classes in morning 
 and at the asylum all day. Being my birth- 
 day, I was specially anxious to have time for 
 the ' Stille-Stunde,' and found it indeed what 
 the name implies, for I was there alone. On 
 coming to my room afterwards. Sister S. came 
 in to wish me many happy returns of the day, 
 and a year rich in blessing and growth in
 
 150 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 grace ; it went so to my heart, this unexpected 
 greeting, and the more so, as my own mother's 
 letter had come yesterday. As soon as we 
 were seated at supper, a few verses of a hymn 
 were sung outside the door, and a plate was 
 brought in with a pretty wreath lighted up by 
 little tapers. I ran out and found a gathering 
 of friends ; inside my wreath was a little 
 marker and a paper with a few texts, and, 
 when I came to my room, there was a lovely 
 bouquet and another paper of texts. Precious 
 tokens of Christian love in a far land !" 
 
 " Wednesday. — Funeral of the negress Susan- 
 nah, who died of cancer. Visit to Sister S., 
 who, in speaking of the pastor, said he was so 
 strict and yet so full of love; yesterday a 
 novice, who was to be sent away, went to 
 entreat him to give her another trial, for which 
 he came to beg Sister S. as humbly and 
 anxiously as if he had been the culprit. Of 
 his simplicity and kind thoughtfulness she gave 
 me several instances, — at the time he was so 
 ill and scarcely able to do anything, he was 
 often found mending his little children's toys.
 
 KAISERSWERTH. irj 
 
 One day the asylum girls were working in the 
 field, the pastor watched them awhile, advised 
 them to be industrious, and, on his return, 
 perceiving how much work had been got 
 through, he went home to order them cakes 
 for supper.** 
 
 ''ig^A.— Asylum all day; with the girls in the 
 turnip-field ; returned for the ' Stille-Stunde.' '* 
 *' 2oth.—ThQ whole day in the asylum. Pas- 
 tor Fliedner sent for me in the evening; the 
 deaconesses are to come to me for separate 
 English lessons ; the pastor, as a father would 
 for his children, begged me not to be too hard 
 on them and require too much preparation. 
 Love is indeed his motto. He asked how I 
 got on ; I said I felt so ignorant. * Oh,' he 
 said, ' love will help : that is the needful point.* 
 They say he can be very stern, but if he 
 wounds with one word, he salves the wound 
 with the next." 
 
 " 26th. — An English beginner, I must take 
 alone daily till she gets up with her class, so 
 now I teach English sixteen hours a week." 
 ** zSth. — A busy day. Asylum in morning ;
 
 152 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 9 to II, English lessons; 11 to 12, Ranke's 
 class on education ; 2 to 3, English lessons ; 
 3 to 4, church ; 4 to 5, Sister S. and C. ; 5 to 
 7, Ranke's classes." 
 
 " Dec. ^th. — Went to Boys' Hospital ; saw 
 dressing of broken leg and arm." 
 
 We must again supplement with extracts 
 from letters, as the journals are much inter- 
 rupted at this busy time : — 
 
 *' November. — We had a most interesting 
 service yesterday, when two of the asylum 
 girls were confirmed ; the Wednesday before, 
 at our usual midday service, they had been 
 examined before the congregation. The con- 
 firmation service was much like our own, the 
 only difference that to the last question, instead 
 of a simple answer, each girl took an oath on 
 the Bible and gave the pastor her hand, in 
 token that, with God's help, she would be 
 faithful unto death. Then to each he gave a 
 Bible with a few words of advice and a text. 
 While we sang hymns, the Communion was then 
 administered. 'In the evening we had a Feste, 
 —rooms lighted up and ornamented with
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 153 
 
 flowers, etc. All was so simple and earnest, 
 pleasant, yet never forgetting the solemnity of 
 the day. I never felt so angry with English 
 red-tapeism as now ; Pastor D. writes from 
 Syria that the English hospital is the greatest 
 disgrace, — a mere shed, said to be good enough, 
 because temporary ; no one to nurse or clean, 
 etc. ; sick and well lying crowded together, in 
 a place where water, debris of every kind, skins, 
 bits of meat, and vegetables are thrown out. 
 There are the deaconesses ready and willing 
 to come and help, and day after day the Com- 
 mittee must sit to consult whether they will 
 accept their help or not ; meanwhile many are 
 dying of want ; the end w^ill be, when they 
 accept it, the deaconesses will have full em- 
 ployment in their own house. The English 
 send plenty of money, but hands are wanting. 
 It is no new thought with me that mine are 
 strong and willing ; I would gladly offer them ; 
 could my own mother bear to think of her child 
 for the next few months as in Syria instead of 
 Germany ? It is but temporary, and yet an 
 urgent case. My favourite motto came last
 
 154 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 Sunday, ' The Lord hath need;' if He has need 
 of my mother's permission to her child, He 
 will enable her to give it. This is but the 
 expression of a wish, and if my own mother 
 were to be made too anxious by the granting 
 it, let it be as if unasked by her own Agnes. 
 
 *^ I am so delighted with the Advent-tree. A 
 fir-tree is brought, to which hoops are fastened 
 in four tiers ; on each hoop seven tapers are 
 fastened ; the children are gathered in the room 
 and the questioning begins at the very begin- 
 ning of Genesis. When the fall of man comes, 
 the room is darkened ; and when the first pro- 
 mise has been repeated and explained, the child 
 who could repeat it, takes a card or coloured 
 flag on which it is written, lights a taper and 
 ties on the flag, so on, till one promise for every 
 week-day is given, and seven tapers and flags 
 are placed on the tree. Each Sunday in Advent 
 a new hoop is filled in this way, and all the 
 facts and promises are thus graven on the 
 children's minds. Poor Sister C. is dying ; she 
 said to me w^ith such a lighting up of the poor 
 worn face, * I shall never go home, but only my
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 155 
 
 body will remain here : the soul will, indeed. 
 go home.' I shall miss my daily visits to her ; 
 we love each other very much, and I feel her 
 patience such a lesson. I always feel it as a 
 token of God's good hand upon me, that I am 
 not over-anxious or unhappy about home. It 
 is not like me to be so contented when far from 
 my dear ones, so I feel it as a token of its 
 being His will I should be here. I hope when 
 I go home I shall have solved one way or other 
 the, as yet, undecided question in my mind, as 
 to the benefit of deaconesses over other Chris- 
 tian workers. One point I have long decided, 
 — it is no antidote against sin or temptation to 
 become a deaconess, but whether one so set 
 apart can really be more useful than other 
 Christians of similar earnestness is my problem. 
 Of course the training is invaluable, but I should 
 say that, taking a deaconess and another Chris- 
 tian of the same standing in grace and training, 
 the latter might do as much as the former ; the 
 only thing is the training both in outward and 
 spiritual things. I have an idea that it there 
 were a system of parish deaconesses, with
 
 156 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 sufficient relief funds at their disposal, it might 
 really be better to attend the poor in their 
 homes (except the very wretched) than to bring 
 them to a hospital ; the variety of people and 
 the want of quiet to read or pray must be very 
 trying." 
 
 An uncle and aunt, who were spending the 
 winter at Bonn, kindly invited Agnes to spend a 
 few days with them, and her next letter is dated 
 from the gay scenes of a boarding-house : — 
 
 " Bonn, December 28th. 
 
 *' My own darling Mother, — I sit down 
 to write in a scene and under circumstances so 
 different from those of the last, that you must 
 not wonder if my letter partakes of the bewilder- 
 ment of my brain. And first, the contrast of the 
 scene. In a large house so close to the Rhine 
 that, as I sit at the window, I see nothing but 
 the river with its frozen edges and large floating 
 masses of ice, through which the little boats 
 laden for market seem vainly attempting to 
 cross, — oars coming constantly in useless con- 
 tact with ice instead of water. The opposite 
 coast, which last night I longed for daylight to
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I57 
 
 see, is white with snow, trees with bare stems, 
 and houses alone giving relief to the glare, 
 softened, however, by the snowy murky sky and 
 the thick fog which hides the lovely hills. So 
 much for the scene without ; within, large 
 handsome rooms ; instead of the white- washed 
 walls and painted floors to which I have been 
 lately accustomed, here are painted and gilded 
 walls and soft carpets ; the simple cap and dress 
 of the deaconess replaced by gay dresses, flowers, 
 and head-dresses. The mannerism and formal 
 politeness of general society do not contrast 
 favourably with the simple loving spirit of the 
 Christian circle at Kaiserswerth. But I must 
 tell you of my doings there the last few days. 
 We were very busy all morning, on Monday, 
 preparing the hall, which is the great public 
 assembly-room, with seats and benches for the 
 party for the hospital Christmas tree ; then 
 collecting all, first washing and dressing our 
 fourteen boys, taking down and settling those 
 who are most ill in the best places. One poor 
 little deformed child of twelve years, and yet 
 scarcely as large or as heavy as a baby of so
 
 158 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 many months, little Otto ; he is so covered 
 with sores that it requires the greatest skill to 
 touch, much more move him ; now, to my 
 great delight, I can do everything for him ; at 
 first I could have cried each time I touched him, 
 for between real pain and pettedness, he used to 
 scream so; he was put into a baby's crib just 
 under the tree, the others ranged behind on 
 low benches, we novices stood against the wall 
 behind the deaconesses : the large hall was 
 crowded, and yet such order and quiet, and all 
 was ready punctually at 4.30. The tree, with 
 all its lights, so light and pretty, — nothing is 
 put on the trees but paper-flowers, gold and 
 silver nuts, small apples, and a few little ginger 
 cakes ; on the top are four large gold-paper 
 flags ; round the room, on benches, were plates 
 filled with gingerbread, apples, and nuts ; near, 
 or under each, the presents labelled and so 
 arranged, that among the three or four hundred, 
 each could be found in a few minutes. The 
 mother and Pastor Strieker took their places. 
 After singing, some questioning followed on the 
 promises learned during Advent ; then some
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I59 
 
 stories were told ; then an address, specially to 
 the sick, closed by singing ; after the presents 
 had been distributed, all retired in order, each 
 laden with gifts ; most of these have been sent 
 in from well-wishers to the Institution. Such 
 an evening as we had in the hospital, and such a 
 time for days afterwards, — drums and flutes and 
 all kinds of music, for none of the children were 
 too ill to make a noise. On Christmas morn- 
 ing, or rather at midnight the night before, 
 there was such a lovely sound, soothing, but 
 distinct, of the hymn sung under the pastor's 
 window, and heard in all parts of the building; 
 the singing at morning prayer was a real Hal- 
 lelujah ; at 9, the morning service and Com- 
 munion ; at 2, another service ; at 4, the Orphan 
 House Christmas tree, at which my class pre- 
 sented me with a lovely little paper-basket of 
 flowers. The way in which everything is done 
 is so simple and genuine, that a little thing 
 they give is far more valuable than what costs 
 ten times as much. In the evening I went 
 over to the pastor's house to ask leave to be 
 abbent for a few days ; while I was there we
 
 l6o KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 heard singing outside the door ; I knew it was 
 the deaconesses come to sing for the pastor, as he 
 had not been able to be among them that day, 
 his cough being so bad. He made them all come 
 in ; tears poured down his cheeks as he listened 
 to his favourite hymn of praise ; then he said a 
 few words, exhorting all whose hearts w^ere at 
 this time specially warmed by the beams of 
 the Sun of Righteousness, to try and spread that 
 warmth to other hearts. He then spoke of the 
 work in Syria, whence news had just come, 
 and where he hoped the last travellers had 
 arrived that day. More than fifty orphans, 
 besides widows and young women, have been 
 already gathered by the sisters into their three 
 houses in Beyrout. Another branch is to be 
 established at Tyre or Sidon, and I think it 
 likely another party may be soon sent out. Do 
 not say I have given up Fahan. I have faced 
 the possibility, and asked myself were it need- 
 ful, could I do it ? One cannot look far forward, 
 nor do I think it right to build castles in the 
 air, save to count the cost. I feel my present 
 training may be for a far distant future. My
 
 KAISERSWERTH. i6l 
 
 life at Fahan was perhaps a more teaching 
 school, as far as the inner life is concerned, 
 than my present one." 
 
 *' Dec. 2,0th. — I cannot tell you the delight it 
 was to be once more at the English service, to 
 join once more in the prayers and Litany, loved 
 always, but more beautiful because so long un- 
 heard. I longed for the people to join in the 
 responses that I might do so too, aloud, for I 
 had to restrain myself, often finding my voice 
 the only one, and fearing it would betray the 
 emotion excited by the very lovely sound of 
 those familiar and dearly loved words. The 
 hundredth Psalm seemed so appropriate, so 
 home-like, it was more like being again in my 
 mother's arms than anything else I can imagine, 
 and oh, the deep gratitude I felt to Him Vvho 
 has brought and kept me hitherto ; it was 
 indeed a going up to the court of the Lord with 
 my own people. Such a God as my God is ; 
 He is good, more than a Father, so tender and 
 loving. May He give me grace to thank Him 
 for the deep joy of this day, another of His 
 countless mercies." 
 
 M
 
 l62 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 **Dec. ^ist, i860. — Onthis, the last evening of 
 the year, and under, perhaps, the most disagree- 
 able circumstances in which the whole of it has 
 seen me, I shall write a few lines. I am wait- 
 ing at Cologne station in one of the numerous 
 breaks of what ought to have been my three 
 hours' journey. I have already been from one 
 till seven o'clock in getting through what ought 
 to have occupied one hour. I am snowed up. 
 I wonder if my promise and wish can be per- 
 formed, and whether I shall reach Kaiserswerth 
 in time for the old year's midnight service. 
 Here I am at 7 at the Cologne station, in the 
 so-called ladies' waiting-room ; my two com 
 panions being only a large man and little boy, 
 both strangely clothed almost to the feet in a 
 kind of pelisse of wadded material, chamois I 
 thought at first, lined with fur, but now I see 
 they are skin coats, the fur inside. The men 
 here do look so effeminate, large wadded cloaks 
 or pelisses, with tight bodies and wide skirts, 
 a muff hung round their necks, and enormous 
 scarfs round and round their throats, in which 
 they bury mouth and nose, and yet it is not so
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 163 
 
 very cold to me without any fur at all. How- 
 ever, the snow and frost have been more severe 
 than has been known since 1845 ; the snow 
 to-day and yesterday prevented the trains 
 running, and Bonn has been crowded with 
 storm-bound travellers ; the Rhine has its 
 edges thickly frozen, and steamers have long 
 ceased to ply on account of the large blocks of 
 floating ice ; the transit of small boats is tedious 
 and perilous. The nun will not soon again 
 leave her cell, for it was with very nun-like 
 feelings she met the world again. 8.30 p.m. — 
 Well, I am a stage further on my journey, and 
 here at the Dlisseldorf station, I may write and 
 amuse myself as best I can. Poor nun, she 
 would gladly be in her cell once more ; how- 
 ever, as that can't be, she must even content 
 herself here, not being able to make up her 
 mind to face a hotel, not liking to pay the 
 large price asked for a sledge, and the roads 
 impassable for a carriage. Another put off, the 
 train will not start till 10.20. I should find the 
 house shut up but for the midnight service. If 
 I am in time for that, it will make up for all 
 
 M z
 
 164 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 my troubles. May God be with me now and 
 then, and bring me safely there. May He take 
 my thoughts and heart more up to my heavenly 
 home." 
 
 ''January 1st. — My lonely walk home from 
 Calcum to Kaiserswerth in the sometimes slip- 
 pery and sometimes deep snow was a rapid one, 
 and yet I found time for prayer. I enjoyed the 
 vralk, but arrived hot and panting at the door 
 to hear the service had just begun ; to fly to my 
 room, pull off wet boots and put on others and 
 my cap, and to my great joy and gratitude was 
 in church at 11.30. The clock struck 12 in the 
 middle of the service, and we were startled by 
 the sudden burst of the wind instruments and 
 singing of the new year hymn. My duties are 
 now in the children's hospital, all ages from two 
 to twelve. It is a new life for me in a nursery 
 of sick children, and a busy one too, for every 
 moment they want something done for them ; 
 I have the charge of giving the medicines too, 
 which is no sinecure. I am in such admira- 
 tion of the superintendent's patience ; no matter 
 what one does or forgets. I never hear a word
 
 KAISERSWERTK. 16 = 
 
 of reproach. The thaw has come and the 
 Rhine has risen so rapidly that they have to 
 set a watcher at night, for the consequences 
 are often very serious when it overflows its 
 banks ; the garden and many of the village 
 kitchens are already under water ; here, the 
 stores in the cellars are wet and the river is 
 rising still, a foot every six hours." 
 
 '' Monday. — Just before I posted my last 
 letter, the alarm was given, * the water is 
 coming.' It had been hoped the danger was 
 over, the thaw seemed so gradual, but this 
 morning we heard the ]^.Ioselle had risen much 
 last night. The approach of an invading army 
 could scarcely cause more commotion, and no 
 Vv'onder. Five years ago, the water was eight 
 feet deep in the dining-rooms and kitchens. 
 Every one was set to work, but in military 
 order ; there was no confusion, though the 
 removal of the contents of the dispensary, shop, 
 three kitchens, three eating-rooms, two work- 
 rooms, and sleeping-rooms of about 30 people 
 to the upper floors was no easy matter, and yet 
 at 7 supper was ready as usual. We had a
 
 l66 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 prayer meeting at 8 o'clock, and now all are in 
 their beds. To-day's Psalm, 91st, seemed so 
 appropriate, so we can lie down in peace and 
 sleep ; for our keeper wakes for us." 
 
 ** Thursday. — The Rhine has already sunk 26 
 feet, so, I suppose, we shall soon get back to 
 our old quarters." 
 
 The exact date at which the idea of going to 
 help the deaconesses in Syria occurred to her 
 cannot be fixed ; the letter has been given in 
 which she first mentioned it to my mother, but 
 it is without a date, and my impression is that 
 it was not received until January. This is 
 confirmed by a detached paper in her journal, 
 which, though also undated, seems to belong 
 to this time. 
 
 " Saturday. — This evening I came to the 
 resolution to write home for permission to go 
 to Syria. It is no new thought, though it 
 rather quickly and unexpectedly came into 
 action. Before coming here, an almost unal- 
 lowed, but not less realized motive, was that 
 of preparation for the next call for nurses, 
 and Syria was even the spot with which the
 
 KAISERSWERTH. l6^ 
 
 thought was associated. Suddenly the deter- 
 mination came as I sat in the hospital, and 
 with prayer for guidance I sought Sister S.'s 
 advice before writing home. She was busy, so 
 I sent her a few lines before going to bed, and 
 slept undisturbed by anxious thought. In 
 order not to do the thing hastily, and to give 
 due time for prayer and consideration, I deter- 
 mined not to dispatch my letter before the usual 
 day. May God guide and bless me.'* 
 
 "Sunday. — Longed to impart my thoughts 
 and hear a word of advice, and yet the undis- 
 turbed mind keeping unswervingly to the pur- 
 pose was a support. It will be a new and diffi- 
 cult life, but God can strengthen. Oh, may 
 He comfort my mother. May the motto which 
 nerves me, nerve her. I seem to hear * the 
 Lord hath need,' and yet till the answer comes 
 may He keep me in prayerful and not over- 
 anxious waiting. It was 7 o'clock before I 
 could see Sister S. I told her, and asked her 
 to pray for me. She answered, * As the Lord 
 shall give me grace to do so.' " 
 
 ** Monday, — As I sat this morning in the
 
 l68 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 hospital, I felt so strongly the force of the 
 words, 2 Cor. viii. 5, 'first gave their own selves 
 to the Lord,' and prayed to be enabled to do 
 so. The morning passed, and as my pupils 
 left me, I took up my Bible to search out more 
 on the verse which was so on my mind. A 
 knock came to the door ; it was Sister S. 
 bringing a message from the pastor. I felt he 
 knew, and with a beating heart I entered his 
 room ; the usual kind welcome greeted me, and 
 then in a most solemn earnest manner he 
 began to say, that having heard of my wish to 
 give myself more to the Lord's service, he 
 thought he could put before me a more urgent 
 call nearer home. A letter from Miss Night- 
 ingale and the spread of Popery in England, 
 seemed to have suggested what I soon found 
 was his plan. But I could never, however 
 willing, be qualified for the post he proposes ; 
 however, I gladly accepted his offer of training. 
 To be fitted for a far lower post will indeed be 
 a blessing and honour far beyond what I could 
 ask or think. What am I, who have been so 
 unfaithful in little, that I should now be called
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 169 
 
 to come up higher ? I could only say, ' My 
 soul doth magnify the Lord,' but it was too 
 much filled with thoughts of self and outward 
 disqualifications. This proposal has, however, 
 opened my eyes, and will, I trust, yet more, 
 to my own inward shortcomings and want of 
 heart-love." 
 
 " Tuesday. — This morning felt so oppressed 
 with the thought of my unfitness for the calling 
 put before me, that I could not help returning 
 to my room after prayers at seven and remain- 
 ing there till my ten o'clock class, in prayer 
 and reading, specially passages from Jeremiah 
 xxxiii. Wonderful words indeed I read, pro- 
 mises, invitations, encouragements. The pas- 
 tor proposed yesterday, that I should be gently 
 trained into the habits of obedience and duties 
 of a Sister, specially in the hospital, then by 
 degrees given a higher position ; in spring a 
 visit home, an interview with Miss Nightin- 
 gale, a return here, perhaps to be tried as the 
 head of some department, and then, if by God's 
 will and aid qualified, ready in autumn to work 
 with and under Miss Nightingale. Such is
 
 170 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 his plan ; to me it seems impossible. Under 
 others, gladly would I act, but I have not the 
 qualifications or self-reliance to be a head, and 
 have neither age nor weight for such a position 
 as he offers. The Government Nightingale 
 Committee and the Evangelical party, to pro- 
 vide, — the one, nurses ; the other, true faithful 
 Christian deaconesses. He would hear no ob- 
 jection, so all I could say was what most 
 heartily I could answer, ' Time, strength, and 
 every talent God has given me, most gladly 
 will I devote all to Him as He enables me.* 
 The pastor spoke so kindly, ' Here am I,' is all 
 the Lord needs. The training will be invalu- 
 able, but not for the sphere he thinks, that 
 could never be; perchance the Lord will favour 
 me with a call to a wholly devoted but lower 
 sphere in His vineyard. The only objection to 
 Syria in my mind is that Ireland was ever my 
 first aim. England is nearer than Syria, per- 
 chance, it may after all be Ireland. The two 
 requests go together in my letter to mother, 
 one for months in a far country, the other for 
 the devotion of a liie. God help her, whose
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 17I 
 
 sp-crifice will be the greatest. I could not help 
 sending, i Sam i. 27, 28." 
 
 Meanwhile her labours in the hospital con- 
 tinued : — 
 
 ** My routine is now : up at 5, dress, make 
 bed, sweep room, and read till 6.15, breakfast 
 and prayers, go to hospital at 7, give children 
 cod-liver oil and other medicines, then begins 
 the washing and dressing till 8.30, children's 
 luncheon, then there are several v/ho must be 
 fed, mending to be done, etc., 10 to 11 English 
 class, II children's dinner, and after it is over, 
 and faces and hands washed, our own dinner 
 comes ; then I take the children a walk till 2, 
 children's coffee etc., 3.30 to 4 the * Stille 
 Stunde ' in the church, 4 medicines given, 5 
 undressing and washing of children for bed, 7 
 supper; some evenings I have the charge of 
 the hospital till 9.30. This is the daily routine. 
 Having to melt my ink and hold it in my hand 
 to keep it so is not advantageous to letter- 
 writing. To-day, when washing my hands, 
 actually some drops which fell on the table 
 were frozen before, with hall-dried hands, I
 
 172 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 tried to wipe them up, and now I write onl}^ by 
 dint of every now and then breathing on my 
 penful of frozen ink, but I really do not suffer 
 from the cold. Sister Caroline died yesterday 
 afternoon ; indeed, it was a blessed release 
 from fearful suffering from internal cancer. I 
 dare say I have told you of her. She was the 
 head of an institution in Frankfort, where, in 
 the cholera year, she took the disease, but re- 
 covered from it to have daily, or rather nightl}'", 
 increasing pain, wdth which, however, she 
 worked on at her post till about two months 
 ago ; since she came here she has been much 
 worse, and even to the last suffered fearfully, 
 but her mind was so happy. There have been 
 more deaths among the sisters this last six 
 months than any remember. Last night we 
 had the ' Monat Stunde,' that is the monthly 
 meeting of sisters to hear the news from our 
 outposts, extracts from letters, and the general 
 outlines of work going on." 
 
 Early in February she w^as placed in the 
 responsible position of superintendent of the 
 boys' hospital, doubtless with a view to tiain
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 173 
 
 her in directing others, and to test whether she 
 were really as deficient in governing power as 
 she herself believed. It was no easy task; 
 unruly children, little accustomed to control, 
 and well enough to make a noise and resist 
 authority, while her want of fluency in the 
 language was still a source of trouble to her, 
 and created many difficulties in her intercourse 
 with them. She writes at this time :— 
 
 ** Had I not too much to do, I should sit 
 down and cry sometimes over the perplexities 
 of my present position. As one of the head 
 sisters said to me, ' It is not as easy as one 
 would think to be a superintendent.' I have 
 the smallest number in my charge of any of 
 the hospital departments, but I think, in many 
 ways, the hardest to manage, for ruling boys is 
 what I never had a talent for, and some are s© 
 naughty ; then my former comforter, Sister S., 
 being now my head and judge, I never come 
 across her without being found fault with. 
 Last night I put a very naughty little boy in 
 the corner, whereupon he screamed and tore at 
 everything in the wildest manner^ and ujt
 
 174 KAISERSV/ERTH. 
 
 knowing what to do, I put him supperless to 
 bed; he began to scream, and Sister S. came 
 in and blamed me for not being more firm with 
 him. This morning he w^as again naughty, 
 and the same scene was repeated ; Sister S. 
 came in and sent him to an empty room, where 
 he was left for two hours, and returned quite 
 subdued. Sister S., however, spoke to me very 
 seriously, and said she had not time to govern 
 the children for me : I must not let this occur 
 again. My assistant, too, tries me sorely ; she 
 is willing, but so slow. I feel very hopeless 
 of succeeding, and fear abusing the kindness 
 which has honoured me with the charge. To- 
 day, when- out walking, I could only keep from 
 crying by running races with my boys. From 
 5.30 A.M. till 7 P.M. I never leave them, and then 
 sit in their sleeping-room from 8 till 10. I fear I 
 offered myself thoughtlessly for a work I . am 
 not qualified for; however, it is well to find 
 out my deficiency in time." 
 
 *• Thursday. — I am really more hopeful, for 
 matters have gone on much better and I did 
 not get one reproof to-day. My boys made
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I75 
 
 and kept a resolution to improve, and I had 
 no great rebellion. It is easy to contend with 
 one or two, but when all unite against ' Tante 
 Agnes,' as they call me, it is no easy task to 
 procure peace. This morning. Sister S. told 
 m.e it would be well for me to witness an ope- 
 ration to be performed in the men's hospital. 
 I went, knowing no particulars, and found it 
 was the removal of a finger. The man was 
 under the influence of chloroform, and after 
 all was finished, the doctor was afraid the dose 
 had been too strong, and had to use violent 
 measures to revive him. The knowledge he 
 could not suffer made me witness the whole 
 thing quite calmly, but it would be dreadful 
 without the chloroform. The cleaning and 
 keeping my dominion in order is such a busi- 
 ness. Sweeping and washing the floor of the 
 three rooms every morning, two stoves which 
 must be black-leaded weekly, each taking an 
 hour, weekly cleaning of windows, tins, dinner 
 chest, washing of bandages, etc., besides the 
 washing up after each of our five meals, — • 
 keeps one busy. I am beginning to iecl quite a
 
 176 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 motherly love for my boys, and they improve 
 daily." 
 
 " Sunday. — With a thankful heart, indeed, 
 did I go to church to-day, for it was light and 
 joyous compared to that of last Sunday. I 
 have got on wonderfully, and can only thank 
 God and take courage, for my own strength 
 was and is powerless. What a blessing could 
 I be indeed the teacher and guide of these little 
 ones ! Yesterday, we sent home a child cured 
 after two years' stay here : he was a trouble- 
 some fellow, and yet I was sorry to see him 
 go from the advantages he has had here ; he 
 has no mother, and will, I am sure, feel the 
 change. My poor little Otto is very ill, and 
 besides his poor back and numerous sores, he 
 has a racking cough, which makes him scream 
 dreadfully ; he will let no one touch him but 
 me, and between dressing his sores and rub- 
 bing his poor chest it is an almost endless 
 business. I was so amused to-day at Pastor S. 
 He came into the room as my boys and I were 
 going to dinner. He speaks English well, and, 
 having been tutor in an English family, knows
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 177 
 
 the customs in England. Now I am so accus- 
 tomed to my way of living, it never costs me a 
 thought ; but a soup plate of vegetables with a 
 bit of meat on the top, sent up with the chil- 
 dren's porringers, and set on a cloth which, 
 with all my efforts, I cannot keep clean even two 
 days, much less seven, is certainly rather a 
 contrast to mother's dinner-table. *.Do you 
 eat here ?' asked the pastor. * Yes, always 
 with my boys.' — ' It must be a great self-denial 
 for you ; your habits are so different ?' — ' Oh, 
 I never was better or happier.' — ' Well,' said 
 he, ' I trust it is you are one with Christ,' and 
 so he took his leave. He had just been with 
 my Otto ; he was pleased with his visit, and 
 says we must not expect too much from a child. 
 I trust he is right, but it pains me to see the 
 clinging to Hfe. To-day, the doctor's order was 
 to put the poor little chilly creature into a 
 room without fire, and all the windows open, 
 and alone, as it would be too cold for other 
 patients. I can't understand the reason ; poor 
 child, he clings so to me, I hope I may be with 
 him till he dies. A new boy was brought to 
 
 N
 
 178 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 me yesterday by such a nice mother, I quite 
 fell in love with her ; with every new-comer I 
 feel as I should about sending a child to school, 
 dread of the evil influence of companions pre- 
 dominating over the means of good. I now 
 generally take a turn in the starlight on my 
 way to my room when I leave the hospital at 
 night, and the same heavenly lights seen at 
 Fahan bring happy thoughts of both the 
 earthly and eternal homes, and often tears of 
 joy and thankfulness for my happy life and 
 many blessings. The Kaiserswerth Scripture 
 Calendar, compiled by the pastor, is a very 
 good one. I must send you a copy. It gives 
 a morning and evening portion, the mid-day 
 Psalm, and the day's text. Monday's was 
 Luke xxii. 24-30 compared with John xiii. 
 2-20. 'I am among you as he that serveth* 
 seemed to come to me in a new light. Oh, to 
 follow His footsteps more truly, not only in 
 the outward but in the inward and spiritual 
 sense of the words. I often wonder, will there 
 ever be deaconesses in England. I cannot 
 however, imagine the amalgamation of ranks
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 179 
 
 and duties there being carried out as it is here. 
 It would be difficult to draw the line, and yet 
 I often cannot but regret that so much of the 
 sisters' time is taken up with the most menial 
 occupations, so that the * Stille Stunde,' two 
 or three times a week, is the only time for 
 quiet reading and prayer during the day. 
 
 " On Saturday at 10.30 came a telegraphic 
 message from Berlin, announcing the death 
 of the head sister there. We had a funeral 
 sermon yesterday, closed by a thanksgiving to 
 Him Who gave her all her talents, and allowed 
 her to use them eighteen years in His service. 
 When I hear of the death of a Christian, those 
 lines come so vividly before me, 'And make 
 the walls of heaven still ring with my new-born 
 melody.' I suppose the song of thanksgiving 
 never loses its freshness in heaven, and though 
 as one learns more of the love which has led 
 us through life, as many of life's mysteries are 
 more and more seen to have been ordered by 
 Omniscient wisdom and love, the song may 
 have its deeper notes, still I think the first 
 buriit of thanksgiving when a ransomed sinner 
 
 N 3
 
 l3o KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 finds herself in heaven must be such an out- 
 burst of joy." 
 
 " Monday. — I wonder if I could ever get used 
 to living in a town ; the sight of a lovely rose- 
 tinted sky these last few evenings was so tanta- 
 lizing, seen over tiled roofs, it made me long 
 for one of my own Fahan sunsets ; the e3'e 
 desires a sight of home beauties, as the heart 
 does its voices and love. Spring seems to have 
 comiC, with soft mild air and bright sunshine ; 
 at night I often think, perhaps to-morrow I 
 shall find some hedges bursting into leaf, or 
 see some other sign of spring, but with -day- 
 light the remembrance comiCs that the only 
 kind of tree or hedge here are those weary 
 straight poplars. It is well one's pleasures are 
 not only of the eye and outward things." 
 
 ^^ April Sth. — It is a solemn time, as, in the 
 hush of night, with the smell of death so strong 
 in the room that it is almiost unbearable even 
 with open windows, I keep watch by Otto, who 
 has now been twenty-four hours in the last 
 agony; now the unconscious screaming of many 
 hours is over, but there is still the working with
 
 KAISERSWERTH. l8l 
 
 clenched hands, the grinding of teeth, and at 
 times the death rattle. Oh, I feel so thank- 
 ful no poor mother has had last night's and 
 to-day's watch ; it would have been agony to 
 her, though we quite believe him to have been 
 unconscious since one o'clock last night. But 
 it teaches one something of the depth of Psalm 
 xxiii. 4, ' Thou art with me.' That can truly 
 be the only comfort in such a time. This night 
 will end my Otto's life as it ends my super- 
 intendence of the boys, for I am to go to- 
 morrow as helper in the women's hospital. 
 This is a quiet, solemn time to review my two 
 happy months with my boys. May the cru- 
 cified and risen Saviour cleanse me from the 
 guilt of the past, and give me power for the 
 future. Every night I used to pray with Otto 
 after they were all in bed, and he used to put 
 his poor little arm round my neck as I knelt 
 beside him, but last night he said of himself, 
 
 * I will only now pray that Jesus may take me 
 to heaven, and that I may soon die,' and as I 
 had put my face near him to hear, he said, 
 
 * Lay your cheek on mine, it does me so much 
 good.' "
 
 lS2 EAISERSWERTH. 
 
 *' April lofh. — I am now at home in m.y new 
 station. I have the entire care of four women, 
 also of the medicines of the twenty-four in the 
 ward. My own special charge have sore legs, 
 which must be hourly attended to, beds made 
 twice a day, rooms cleaned, etc. ; then, as far 
 as I can, I help with the other patients. I 
 have such delight in the women, reading to 
 them is like reading to my poor at home." 
 
 *' April 22nd. — No deaconess has the per- 
 plexities of choosing her own position, or de- 
 ciding on her own movements ; unfortunately, 
 I am not so pleasantly situated. But you must 
 have the histoiy of my difficulty or you will not 
 understand the sequel. Saturday's post brought 
 me a letter from Mrs. Ranyard, which roused 
 man}^ conflicting feelings. First, an invitation 
 to be in Hunter Street on the 27th, to be in 
 time for the Bible Society Meeting on the ist 
 May. Then she says, ' A friend is building a 
 house for me in St. Giles's, a dormitory for 
 fifty girls, besides our rescue home. Your 
 mother would sooner see you settle in London 
 to help me in the great work of Bible women,
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 183 
 
 etc., than that you should go to Syria.' She 
 then proposes that I should come to her to 
 supply a want of some one who can devote 
 time to visiting and inspecting the various mis- 
 sions, and assist in the choice and training of 
 the Bible women, besides managing and es- 
 tablishing these homes. The proposal seems 
 perfect in every way, and I only felt not good 
 enough for the work ; besides, to leave this so 
 soon, not to return, is a trial. I was pre- 
 vented by my duties, going to speak to the 
 pastor on the subject, and meanwhile, a large 
 letter was handed me from Mr. — , enclosing a 
 plan for a proposed home for nurses. He writes 
 to ask if I will go to the St. John's Wood 
 training-hospital, to be prepared by Miss Jones 
 there, for two or three months, and then take 
 the superintendence of this nurses' home, which 
 
 is to be connected with the infirmary in . 
 
 Most patiently and kindly did the pastor give 
 me a whole hour and much valuable advice. 
 He says he would in no way influence my 
 choice ; according to a German proverb, ' One's 
 own heart and one's God are the best coun-
 
 184 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 sellers.' At the same time, he feels the work 
 Mr. — proposes might be a centre from which 
 boundless 'good would radiate, if it be really 
 made a training-school for Christians,- as well 
 as nurses ; that to introduce the true and all- 
 important element might be my work, and so 
 if God give grace, I might be the heart, even 
 if after training I cannot be fitted to be the 
 head of the work. He advises me to go to 
 London for the May meetings ; I shall then 
 have the opportunity of meeting many people, 
 and hear the views taken respecting such work. 
 What am I to say, when such work is before 
 me ? Sometimes I think the question may 
 well be asked of me, * With whom hast thou 
 left those few sheep in the wilderness ? In 
 the pride of thy heart thou aspirest to greater 
 work, thou, who wast not found faithful in that 
 which was least.' And yet when I look back 
 and see how I have been led from step to step 
 hitherto in a way I could never have imagined, 
 I can only say to God, ' I bring a willing mind, 
 and if, with all my shortcomings. Thou callest 
 me, here am I, only do Thou touch my lips
 
 KAISERSWERTH. 1S5 
 
 with a coal from Thy altar.* With a heavy 
 heart I shall leave what has for seven months 
 been such a happy home, to go again among 
 strangers, but as here I could say, I am not 
 alone, so there will He be with us." 
 
 Agnes probably apprehended some abridg- 
 ment of her liberty to avow her distinctive re- 
 ligious principles, in the plan proposed to her 
 
 by Ml-. ^ and her reply to his letter shows 
 
 her determination not to join any scheme of be- 
 nevolence in which she could not have freedom 
 to tell perishing sinners of the only way of sal- 
 vation. 
 
 " Kaiserswerth, v^/)n7, 1861. 
 
 *' Dear Sir, — In reply to your letter of the 
 15th I would, say, that before entering into any 
 
 connection with the training-school and 
 
 home for nurses, I must know something more 
 respecting its basis. You sent me the ground 
 plan of the building, but I would ask, is its 
 foundation and corner-stone to be Christ and 
 Him crucified, the only Saviour ? Is the Chris- 
 tian training of the nurses to be the primary, 
 and hospital skill the secondary object ? I ask
 
 l86 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 not that all should be of one Christian deno- 
 mination, but what I do ask is that Jesus, the 
 God-man, and His finished work of salvation 
 for all who believe on Him, should be the basis, 
 and the Bible the book of the institution. If 
 this be your end and aim, then will I gladly- 
 pass through any course of training to be fitted 
 to help in your work, even though it be in a far 
 lower position than that which you propose. 
 You must be prepared to find me as yet quite 
 untrained, but willing hands and a heart to 
 work for the Lord as He enables, I trust I can 
 offer. If you still think we may at least try to 
 work together, perhaps a personal interview 
 would be advisable. I expect (God willing) to 
 be in London about ]\Iay ist, and shall see 
 Miss Nightingale and Miss Jones (of St. John's 
 hospital), but, as I said before, I shall not em- 
 bark in any work whose great aim is not obe- 
 dience to the command, ' Preach the Gospel to 
 every creature.' 
 
 ** Believe me to remain, yours truly, 
 
 "Agnes E. Jones."
 
 KAISERSWERTH 187 
 
 " Marines, Friday, 6 a.m. 
 
 ** My own darling Mother, — While wait- 
 ing for the train to Antwerp, from whence we 
 hope to sail to-day at i, I must try to note 
 down a few of the sad but sweet remembrances 
 of yesterday. I really knew not how I loved 
 and was loved till the parting came. Sister 
 Sophie comforted me with the words of some 
 German writor, * Those who love in the Lord 
 never see each other for the last time.* If I 
 could tell you of half her love and kindness ! 
 She was indeed my * Mutter Schwester/ and 
 when I thanked her for all her loving care, 
 * Oh,' said she, ' your affection and gratitude 
 almost make me ashamed.' She shamed me 
 by her thanks for what she called my confi- 
 dence and obedience. The pastor, too, begged 
 me to write, and promises help and advice 
 whenever I need it. Had I gained nothing but 
 this, it would be much ; for the counsel of such 
 a man, with all his experience and large-heart- 
 edness, single aim for God's glory, and simple 
 childlike faith, one feels is the highest wisdom. 
 He is liberal in his views, but as he said when
 
 lS8 KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 I was speaking of the Broad Church party, 
 * One must not be so broad as to forget there 
 is but the narrow way to heaven.' 
 
 " The future is as yet all uncertain ; I feel 
 the way must be made very plain for me. I\Irs. 
 Ranyard's proposal is most attractive, and 
 w^ould be a good training for work ; still, as 
 my leaning to it may arise from its being a 
 comparatively easy call, I shall wait till the 
 other way is closed before I look at all the at- 
 tractiveness of this. Still, I do love hospital 
 work, and feel it is a position of boundless use- 
 fulness to train nurses." 
 
 Thus ended Agnes's personal connection with 
 Kaiserswerth ; from the first day of her arrival 
 there, she had thrown herself completely into 
 the routine of the place, submitting herself to 
 its discipline, and taking up whatever work the 
 pastor appointed for her. Sometimes it did 
 seem a waste of power when she was obliged 
 to spend so much time each day cleaning 
 lamps and stoves, sweeping floors, and doing 
 other rough work, which sadly tried her de- 
 licate hands ; of this wc only heard when she
 
 KAISERSWERTH. . 189 
 
 was lamenting her uselessness in the hospital 
 for some time, as she had to keep her hands 
 poulticed and handaged from the injury they 
 had received. At the same time, we must 
 remember that much of this was voluntary 
 work, which she chose to do rather than leave 
 it to the deaconesses, as well-born and as de- 
 licately nurtured as she had been, in whose 
 daily routine such ofhces were included. Im- 
 plicit obedience was one of Pastor Fliedner's 
 imperative requirements ; and Agnes often said 
 she owed much to her training in this respect 
 at Kaiserswerth. Her greatest pleasure was, 
 however, in the hospitals, and there she became 
 daily more convinced that nursing-work was 
 her vocation. For years she had delighted in 
 visiting and tending the sick in the neighbour- 
 hood of her country home, but now she felt 
 within herself powers which had not before 
 been called into action. One day, soon after 
 she went to Kaiserswerth, she was in the 
 children's hospital when the doctor arrived to 
 perform an operation on a baby for a hare lip. 
 The sister from some cause was absent, and
 
 igO KAISERSWERTH. 
 
 the deaconess in charge turned pale when asked 
 to hold the child. Agnes came forward, ** May 
 I take hirn ?" The doctor looked at her and 
 said, *' No. You would faint ; you have not 
 been tried, and experience is necessary in these 
 cases ; a trembling hand or a momentary faint- 
 ness might be most injurious to the child.'* 
 But Agnes still asked, *' Do try me; there is 
 no one else." Perhaps the doctor saw the 
 firmness in her calm brow and steady eye, for 
 he allowed her to take the child. She never 
 wavered while a firm grasp of the little suf- 
 ferer was necessary, but when he was laid 
 in his crib and she got away to her room, she 
 indulged in a good cry, yet felt, as she wrote 
 to us, very much pleased at the discovery of 
 her nerve. After this, she was tried again 
 and again, and always with the same result ; 
 it seemed strange that with her peculiarly 
 tender, sensitive, and sympathizing nature, 
 she could bear thus to witness suffering, but 
 God had given her the power so to realize the 
 ultimate good that she was nerved for the 
 preliminary trial, and many were the cases.
 
 KAISERSWERTH. I9I 
 
 during the next few years, when her presence 
 and strengthening words soothed the hour of 
 mortal agony. But in all the occupation and 
 numerous calls on sympathy and interest, her 
 home and her poor at Fahan were never for- 
 gotten ; every letter is full of messages to the cot- 
 tages where so much of her time had been spent ; 
 none were forgotten, and we were continually re- 
 minded by her that such a one should have blan- 
 kets, another warm clothing, another nourishing 
 food. It was very painful to her to think that 
 they would not understand her leaving them, and 
 that it must seem to them like forgetfulness or 
 caprice ; but truly she sought first the kingdom 
 of God and His righteousness ; and where she 
 believed He willed her to go, there she went 
 without a murmur.
 
 CHAPTER m 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 ** There are in this loud, stunning tide 
 Of human care and crime, 
 With whom the melodies abide, 
 
 Of the everlasting chime ; 
 Who carry music in their heart 
 TTirough dusky lane and wransjiing mart, 
 Plying their daily task with busier feet, 
 Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.'* 
 
 \ T 7E must now go back to the summer 
 ^ ^ of 1859, when my sister and I went to 
 London with our only brother, who was to 
 sail thence to Australia. After his departure, 
 while remaining a short time in town to visit 
 some of the ragged schools, homes, and refor- 
 matories in which we were interested, a friend 
 kindly introduced us to Mrs. Ranyard, the 
 editor of the ' Book and its Missions.' As we 
 entered the pleasant drawing-room in Hunter 
 Street, at the close of a sultry July day, won-
 
 LONDON. 193 
 
 dering at the cool fragrance which pervaded 
 it, and admiring the lovely flowers and delicate 
 ferns which seemed to take one far into the 
 country, while the constant roll of wheels told 
 us we were close to the great thoroughfares of 
 the metropolis, and as we sat and talked with 
 our kind host and hostess, and heard the de- 
 tails of the wonderful transformation which 
 the Bible women were effecting in the dark 
 lanes and alleys of London, we little thought 
 of the link that was even then being riveted 
 between us all, and that before long, one 
 of those eager listeners was to be working in 
 the same great field of labour. The revival 
 movement that summer, in the north of Ireland, 
 attracted the attention of many English Chris- 
 tians, and when in the autumn, rest was de- 
 clared necessary for Mrs.* Ranyard, she pro- 
 posed visiting the places where God's blessing 
 seemed to be so richly poured forth. She paid 
 us a short but very happy visit at Fahan, and 
 Agnes afterwards joined her for some days at 
 Portrush. Mrs. R.'s two young daughters, 
 full of life and joyous brightness, with all the 
 
 O
 
 194 LONDON. 
 
 fair promise which delights a parent's heart, 
 were with her; a few months later, the elder, 
 a sweet and most attractive creature, was taken 
 up to the better land, where God gathers in 
 His loveliest flowers. The pressure of a work 
 which could not be laid aside, even when grief 
 for such a loss needed quiet and repose, seemed 
 almost more than human strength could bear ; 
 and in the letter Mrs. Ranyard wrote to my 
 sister, offering her work in London if she 
 could come there from Kaiserswerth, she still 
 further urged the proposal by saying she really 
 wanted help in this time of sorrow and de- 
 pression. 
 
 My mother and I arranged to meet Agnes in 
 London, but circumstances delayed our journey, 
 and she had been three weeks in Hunter Street 
 before we arrived. Never did her sweet face 
 look brighter or happier than when she greeted 
 us that day, after our eight months' separation ; 
 she was already fully engaged in the Bible 
 mission, and, for a time, the thought of hos- 
 pital work was laid aside. This was chiefly 
 from my mother's strong objection to her
 
 LONDON. IQ5 
 
 undertaking any course of training which 
 would involve residence in a hospital. It was, 
 indeed, a trying request for a mother's heart, 
 to give up her eldest child, one who had ever 
 been the delight and gladness of her home, 
 to a life-work which must separate her com- 
 pletely from her family, and doom her to spend 
 her days among the saddest scenes of suffering 
 which darken the face of this bright earth. 
 When God's voice speaks directly to us, and 
 asks for the return of the blessing He has 
 lent, we can say, with bitter tears and break- 
 ing heart-strings, '' Even so, Father, for so it 
 seemeth good in thy sight;" but when God 
 speaks indirectly through circumstances, de- 
 priving us of our treasures, it seems impos- 
 sible not to resist, and to question whether 
 it be indeed God's voice that calls us to such 
 a surrender. And so it was now; but that 
 heavenly Father Who knows the deep tender- 
 ness of a mother's heart, and all that this 
 sacrifice involved, sent a reprieve, and in loving 
 mercy laid on the burden gradually, which 
 would have been too crushing had the whole 
 
 oz
 
 196 LONDON. 
 
 weight been felt at first. An extract from 
 one of Agnes's letters, written at this time, 
 may be given to show her feeling on the sub- 
 ject :— 
 
 ** My want, as far as I yet know myself, 
 arises from a deficiency of directing and super- 
 intending power, and I do feel this is one 
 of the great requisites for any work. Whether 
 I may have the faculty yet dormant remains to 
 be proved, as yet I am more conscious of the 
 want than of its possession. The solution of 
 this question seems to me to be indispens- 
 able before I ought to embark in any training 
 for work which would involve my becoming a 
 superintendent, else I should find myself, at 
 the end of a year or two, a mere nurse. 
 Useful as a woman perhaps, but burying the 
 talent given me in my position in society, or 
 leaving me to make a new start in another 
 path of usefulness. This being the case, it 
 seems to me the wiser plan first of all to find 
 out what my powers are ; for this opportunity 
 will be afforded me in the various experiences 
 in Mrs. Ranyard's work. This is not turning
 
 LONDON. 197 
 
 aside from a purpose which has so long been 
 mine, and though involving neutrality and 
 delay, is not, I trust, losing time." 
 
 To another friend she writes about the same 
 date : — 
 
 " I want a life-work to employ the faculties 
 
 which God has given me : they are not many 
 
 or great mentally, but they are His gift, and 
 
 I desire to devote them to His service. I have 
 
 no sympathy with the High Church party, 
 
 and so should not enter a sisterhood, even 
 
 were I free, which I am not, from home-ties. 
 
 These are my first duties, but there seems now 
 
 to be a time which I am free to spend as I like, 
 
 — that time I want to employ, while I am 
 
 young, in being trained for some sphere of 
 
 usefulness, in which, if spared to maturer age, 
 
 I may be employed. Whether I may now 
 
 enter on a course of training for such a post 
 
 as that which has been proposed to me in 
 
 Liverpool, and for which there seems no course 
 
 open, save that of entering as one of the 
 
 Nightingale prob. .loners, at St. Thomas's 
 
 Hospital, for a year, or whether I seek, in the
 
 19^^ LONDON. 
 
 practical experience of work under Mrs. Ran- 
 yard, the knowledge I need, is now my diffi- 
 culty. The one is preparation for future work ; 
 the other is immediate entrance on it. Did I 
 see my way clearly, I could delight in either 
 sphere of labour, though there is no doubt 
 which would be, for the present, the easier 
 post ; that is not my aim, it is. How can I 
 work best for God ? 
 
 ** ]\Iiss Nightingale kindly and plainly put 
 before me the trials of association with un- 
 educated though respectable women as my 
 only companions during the year's training ; 
 but though I fully realize what it would be, 
 I feel as if I could meet it, were I called upon 
 to do so. Trustfully and prayerfully have I 
 left it in the hands of my heavenly Father, 
 and if He incline not my mother's heart to 
 allow of my going to St. Thomas's, I shall 
 thank Him that He has provided me with 
 another field of labour." 
 
 As my mother could not bring herself to 
 consent to the hospital training, it was arranged 
 that Agnes should remain with Mrs. Ranyard,
 
 LONDON. 199 
 
 and after two or three weeks we returned to 
 Ireland without her, feeling quite satisfied that 
 with such kind and watchful friends, who cared 
 for her as if she had been their own child, she 
 would be perfectly happy. Very few are the 
 letters or notes from which we can gather 
 details of the next few months. Her time 
 seems to have been chiefly occupied in prepar- 
 ing the Parker Street Dormitory, which was 
 opened by Lord Shaftesbury on the 5th of 
 June, 1861, superintending the furnishing and 
 arranging of this home for girls, and of the 
 refuge, in Dudley Street, holding mothers' 
 meetings in one district and another where the 
 lady-superintendent was absent or ill, inquiring 
 into the character and references of proposed 
 Bible-women, and in every way making herself 
 useful to Mrs. Ranyard. 
 
 One of her first letters after our departure 
 from London is as follows : — 
 
 " My own Darling, — I seem to miss you 
 more and more every day ; even the peeps at 
 you, and feeling you near, were more of com- 
 fort than I knew when I was murmuring at not
 
 200 LONDON. 
 
 being oftener with you. I hope you are en- 
 joying those lovely green fields and hedges and 
 trees and the peep of the church from your 
 bedroom-window, as I did two years ago when 
 staying at Highfield. I never thought so much 
 of the beauty of trees and flowers as now ; but 
 I am happy without seeing them, and shall be 
 daily more independent of their enjoyment 
 when in full work. I do so look forward to 
 beginning my dormitory Bible class on Sunday. 
 Think of me from 2.30 to 3.30. It is like 
 Fahan work again. I trust I may be taught 
 to teach. Yesterday I went with Mr. R. to 
 see two lifelong sufferers who yet rejoice in the 
 Lord. The first, Betty Jones, whose fall down- 
 stairs thirty-two years ago, caused not only 
 such injury to the brain that sound is agony, 
 but brought on a large tumour in the neck, 
 producing asthma ; — to prevent the suffering 
 from the heat of the bed, the head and neck 
 are placed in a plate. The doctors say the 
 least elevation of the head would cause circula- 
 tion to cease at the heart, and instant death, 
 yet the whispered words in which she speaks of
 
 LONDON. 201 
 
 * Blessed Jesus, in everything suitable,' * Just 
 the Saviour suitable for me,' and the look and 
 motion of the hand, all tell He is hers. No- 
 thing ever moves her, she is so iirm on the 
 Rock. Drury Lane is close b}^, and the night 
 the theatre was burned all were in alarm, 
 and, for her, death seemed inevitable ; to move 
 her v/as death, and all was in flames around, 
 the air full of sparks and burning timbers, 
 one piece of which entering the chimney of the 
 next house, set it on iire ; * The Lord actually 
 carried it over my chimney to the next,' she 
 said in heartfelt gratitude, and so in her closely- 
 curtained, darkened nook, she waits the dawn 
 of eternal day. Through endless streets and 
 lanes we threaded our way to visit Sarah 
 Bird, of whom you have read in Mrs. R.'s 
 magazine, the poor creature who has but the 
 use of her thumb ; she, however, seemed to me 
 in luxury compared to poor Betty; she can 
 read and bear light and noise, and enjoy speak- 
 ing and listening, and her bright expression 
 told more than the words of thankfulness 
 which poured from her lips, of the peace
 
 202 LONDON. 
 
 within. She, too, has her trials, but she said, 
 
 * I am ashamed to talk of my suffering when 
 I think of all Jesus suffered for me.' I am to 
 go to doctor her, for the eighteen years in one 
 position has caused sad bed-sores ; of all her 
 body she can only move her head, but she says, 
 
 * Is it not a blessing, though, that I can do 
 that, to see those texts on my wall ? why, look 
 there, Ps. xxiii. i, ' I shall not want.' Want, I 
 was very near it once, but see now how rich I 
 am.' What do you think of my having so 
 much to say to the Rescue-House ? I never 
 chose it, but it seemed put before me, and 
 daily becomes more my charge. I feel as 
 if in the way of duty I shall be kept from 
 harm. The only thing is, I can scarcely help 
 crying when I am talking or praying with 
 the girls, still I do not think that harms 
 them, and it does not me. They are so im- 
 pressible and impulsive, but it seems over in a 
 minute." 
 
 " Friday. — Fancy me, after a night of tooth- 
 ache, and a day consisting of Dudley Street 
 Refuge, Parker Street Dormitory, printer's
 
 LONDON. 203 
 
 business, investigation into complaints against 
 a Bible woman, visit to the same, confronting 
 her with the district clergyman, having to as- 
 sert Mrs. R.'s right to manage the case, two 
 hours with a dentist who made me quite com- 
 fortable, industrial kitchen, etc., on my evening 
 visit to Dudley Street finding a girl had run 
 off, then a disappointment about meeting Lady 
 M. F. I did not get home till ten o'clock, 
 and then found a dozen letters to answer ; no 
 wonder you must be put off with a short one 
 from your loving Agnes." 
 
 *' IVednesday. — How badly I have treated you 
 lately in the letter line, but between business 
 letters for Mrs. R., extracting from the Bible 
 women's journals, and studying their boun- 
 daries, and the locality of Bible Society's 
 depots, I might have my days fully occupied 
 in the house, yet I have plenty to do out of it 
 besides. All yesterday afternoon was taken 
 up with a reunion at the most magnificent of 
 houses in Kensington Palace Gardens, then 
 tea at Mrs. Bayley's, and a peep at a mothers* 
 tea-party. To-day I thought, how shall I get
 
 204 LONDON. 
 
 through all my business at the houses ? And 
 then at breakfast other duties were so mapped 
 out for me as to leave me not a moment for 
 them, and so one day's business seems rolled 
 in another, while each brings its own special 
 work. We are to have a great day at Wal- 
 thamstow on the 31st. Tuesday we go to 
 Barnet, and stay the three days of the con- 
 ference." 
 
 " Monday. — Last night, about 9.30, Mr. R. 
 came in saying, * There is a great fire on the 
 river, will you come and see it ?' We all set 
 out, and drove to three different bridges, ending 
 by the one nearest to the fire — London Bridge. 
 Such a sight as it was ! Eleven acres of great 
 storehouses on fire, many vessels and barges, 
 which being moored close to the shore, could 
 not be got out from the mud, the smoke of 
 every shade of colour reaching up to heaven, 
 wuth flames now and then shooting up almost 
 as high ; tongues of fire of varied hue from 
 palest yellow to deepest orange, now and then 
 completely wrapping the walls of the buildings, 
 hiding even their form, sometimes roaring up
 
 LONDON. 205 
 
 through skeleton walls, — the roofs, one after 
 another, falling in, sending up sparks, while 
 beams and rafters came whirling through the 
 air, often falling on some doomed vessel to 
 add it to the general conflagration. Sometimes 
 the smoke rolled back, and through the win- 
 dows we saw the flames defining every angle 
 of the ill-fated houses ; then the oil and other 
 combustible substances were burning on the 
 river, and one felt " the mighty power of fire 
 licking up even the water which should have 
 extinguished it. Not only was the fire a sight, 
 but the crowds of people, every face lighted 
 up by the lurid glow, bringing each individual 
 of those mighty masses out in strong relief. 
 With all this majesty and awful grandeur 
 there was also much of surpassing beauty. 
 The full moon looked down in calm serenity, 
 contrasting strangely with the scene below, 
 and there were times and points of view when 
 the buildings looked unearthly in their spectral 
 beauty ; the Monument with its pillar so mel- 
 lowed that it seemed almost ethereal, its mimic 
 crowning flames were indeed flames in the
 
 206 LONDON. 
 
 reflection which caught that point with a 
 crimson bronzy glow, and then St. Paul's, and 
 some nearer towers and steeples, and the 
 Houses of Parliament in the distance, each in 
 its own light ; the river crowded with boats 
 and steamers, the bridges with dense masses of 
 foot passengers, and human forms crowding 
 on every available point, all gazing hopelessly, 
 helplessly on. Oh, it taught such a lesson of 
 man's impotency ! The play of the engines 
 were but as threads of water on those miighty 
 flames which seemed to revel in all the desola- 
 tion they were creating. On Saturday I had a 
 very interesting mothers' meeting at . . . five 
 German women were there, two of whom could 
 not understand English, and great was their 
 delight when I recapitulated my words in 
 German." 
 
 ** Hadi.ey Grf.en, Barnet 
 
 " My own Darlings, — I must write you a 
 few lines, as in about an hour w^e shall be 
 again in London, leaving this place, which I 
 am sure I shall look back to in heaven as the
 
 LONDON. 207 
 
 scene in which a new and most wondrous leaf 
 of the Bible was turned over for me and by 
 me. The notes I send of the addresses will 
 show you what were the lessons learned at this 
 w^onderful conference. As a whole, the con- 
 ference, enlarged this year from the select four 
 hundred to one thousand, was not so much the 
 intimate communion of saints as formerly. It 
 was so interesting to hear of the many well- 
 attended students' prayer meetings at Oxford, 
 and the earnest spirit among the young men 
 there, and other details of work in various 
 places. On Tuesday the first meeting at 11 
 was opened as usual by Mr. Pennefather coming 
 forward on the platform, where were gathered 
 all the speakers, lay and clerical, and calling 
 upon all to unite in silent prayer to God for 
 His presence and His Spirit's blessing; this 
 was followed by singing and prayer ; then, one 
 by one, Mr. P. read various requests for prayer, 
 which wxre so numerous that as each was read, 
 there was a pause for silent prayer ; then sing- 
 ing and addresses till i o'clock. We separated 
 then for dinner. At 3 o'clock Mr. Denham
 
 208 LONDON. 
 
 Smith gave a most striking address. Thurs- 
 day evening a most beautiful address from Dr. 
 Bonar. On Friday evening all met in the 
 church for the communion, after which there 
 was an address in the iron room. I can't tell 
 you of half to-day. Of all the kind things 
 Mrs. Ranyard has done for me, and they are 
 many, none was kinder than taking me to 
 Barnet. The lesson to me of the whole has 
 been an opening up of the richness of the pri- 
 vileges Christians may claim, and put forth 
 their hands and take.'* 
 
 *' Dudley Street, Wednesday. — To-day I 
 
 had a long talk with in whom I am much 
 
 interested ; herself the child of sin, she seemed 
 scarcely to know right from wrong ; when in 
 service, she says, her companions were very 
 harmful to her, and it really seems that Mrs. 
 W. was led to pass by the door- step where she 
 was sleeping to bring her to a place where she 
 might hear of Jesus. God grant she may be 
 found of Him. She is diseased in body and 
 soul. Went twice to Parker Street ; to St. 
 Paul's Churchyard to buy ticking for houses.
 
 LONDON. 209 
 
 Mothers' meeting in Bidboro' Street, only six 
 present ; tried to teach them the lesson of 
 John V." 
 
 " Dudley Street, Sunday, 25//?. — Morning 
 class not as well attended as I expected, but 
 still encouraging ; this street, with every shop 
 open, made me feel, — Is no seed sown by all 
 the efforts made ?" 
 
 ''Monday. — Industrial kitchen ; Victoria docks 
 mothers' tea meeting, twenty-two present. In 
 evening Clerkenwell mothers' meeting, most 
 interesting. I do so enjoy my work, though I 
 have only time to give you the heads of it ; the 
 people in Parker Street seem to prize my Sun- 
 day class, and some who have gone to situations 
 beg leave to come to it w^henever their mis- 
 tresses can spare them. I paid poor Mrs. P. 
 my second visit to-da}^^ which she seemed to 
 enjoy, but she is still greatly depressed. I am 
 sure I have need to study my Bible much, 
 coming across so many various cases, but the 
 more I see and hear, the more I feel it must 
 be God's teaching alone that can help or 
 comfort ; so many are made unhappy by man 
 
 P
 
 2IO LONDON. 
 
 giving a wrong place to some of God's truths. 
 This week I have a proposed district nurse to 
 look after, and a Bible-woman's German people 
 to visit, besides my usual duties. I long so 
 sometimes to escape the noise of London. I 
 feel as if I could walk twenty miles on the 
 hottest day, did it take me to some lone moun- 
 tain top." 
 
 " Parker Street, Friday. — Spoke to 
 
 alone ; she seems to feel now she knows the 
 love of Jesus. Victoria docks ; visited Mrs. C, 
 not in so much pain as last visit, but weaker; 
 she says, on Friday last there came over her 
 such a feeling of Jesus' love ; it was as if a 
 voice told her He loved her." 
 
 *' August i6ih. — Herr M. from Berlin called; 
 spent some hours at Dudley Street, spoke to 
 each separately. Visited S. Bird.'* 
 
 '* Aiigiist igth. — Returned from a most enjoy- 
 able visit to Chislehurst ; such kindness from 
 all, and such intense enjoyment of views, air, 
 and flowers ; I became a country girl again. 
 I found many letters to answer on my re- 
 turn. Visited Dudley Street. Mrs. — gave
 
 LONDON. 211 
 
 me a most affecting account of — 's interview 
 with her father. His letter of forgiveness did 
 not arrive till next day, so his visit was unex- 
 pected. She was much moved when she heard 
 of his arrival, but crept out tremblingly to meet 
 him. When she came to the door of the room 
 where he was, she turned aside, burying her 
 face in her hands and sa3ang her father could 
 never bear to look at her again ; no words but 
 those which describe the reception of the pro- 
 digal by his father could picture that meeting. 
 He fell on her neck and kissed her, and they 
 and those present mingled their tears over the 
 lost one found." 
 
 ''August 2S/A— Went to see S. Bird; she was 
 in great suffering, but says all she needs is 
 * grace to praise God more.' She told Lady M. 
 she was ' always cheerful because looking to the 
 things beyond.' " 
 
 In August Mrs. Ranyard went to Switzerland 
 for six weeks, and Agnes took the whole charge 
 of the mission during her absence, and on her 
 return Agnes wrote her the following letter as a 
 sketch of her employments in the interval ; — 
 
 P 2
 
 212 LONDON. 
 
 *' Dearest Mrs. Ranyard, — The events of 
 the last six weeks, though interesting as they 
 daily occurred, will not form any very important 
 features in a review of the time. You left us 
 August 13th, and on the i6th Herr Neuhause 
 called with an introduction from Mr. Moon. 
 He was anxious to inquire into the Bible- 
 women's work, with a view of establishing 
 something of the kind in Berlin. Two ladies 
 called from the country to tell of the work 
 of their Bible women, but of the eight in 
 Leicester and the one in the Isle of Man, 
 you will read elsewhere. I have been at several 
 mothers' meetings. I held those at Victoria 
 docks weekly during Miss P.'s absence. Drury 
 Lane, Chislehurst, Grey's Buildings, Whitecross 
 Street, May Fair, Cow Cross, Dudley Street, 
 Portman Market, York Road, Moor Lane, 
 Coburg Row, Dove Row, and Stourbridge 
 mother's meetings, I have either held or been 
 present at. The question of their boundaries 
 has obliged me to hold many meetings of the 
 Bible women, five and six at a time. Our 
 numbers in Parker Street have mounted up to
 
 LONDON. 213 
 
 twenty-six, so T wrote to ask Mr. Alexander to 
 send us some more beds, which he has kindly 
 promised to do, also sheets, blankets, etc. He 
 was much pleased at what I mentioned to him 
 of the manner in which the dormitory seems 
 really to become the adopted home of the in- 
 mates, for not merely is it their abode during 
 their time of lodging there, but they return to 
 it when they leave their situations ; they re- 
 commend friends to try it, and are sure to spend 
 part of every holiday, if not the whole of it, 
 there. They seem also to feel they have there 
 a friend to advise and help them in their diffi- 
 culties, and the Sunday afternoon class is 
 attended by many of our former inmates. We 
 have cases of those who were longing for 
 spiritual instruction, as well as for respectable 
 lodgings, being recommended to come to our 
 matron ; one now in the house was on the verge 
 of becoming a nun, to her the only conceivable 
 way of finding the peace she longed for ; now 
 her eyes seem to be opened to a better way, 
 though she does not feel she has yet entered 
 on it.
 
 214 LONDON. 
 
 *^ IMrs. S. (one of the Bible women) has had 
 Asiatic cholera, and for many hours her life was 
 despaired of, but the grief of her poor people 
 during the hours of danger and suffering has 
 encouraged her to hope that, having won their 
 love, she ma}^ be enabled to lead them to One 
 Who loves them far better than she can do. 
 She has not quite shaken off the effects- of her 
 illness, and the deadly cold of her limbs will, 
 the doctor fears, long continue, unless she be 
 provided with warm under-clothing. I spent 
 one most enjoyable afternoon with the West- 
 minster Bible woman. At two o'clock I went 
 to the Coburg Row mothers' meeting, which is 
 very small, accounted for by most of the women 
 being laundresses. A little school has been 
 opened in the same house for destitute children, 
 who are entirely kept : four only as yet, as the 
 funds are low ; they seemed well-behaved, and 
 sang very nicely. Our boundary meeting fol- 
 lowed, and I could not resist an urgent invita- 
 tion for a 7 o'clock prayer meeting ; thus 
 time was afforded for conversation. One told 
 how she had had doubts whether she were
 
 LONDON. 215 
 
 called to the work, and had asked of the Lord 
 a sign. She went to a house where the woman 
 bade her go away, for they had more Bibles 
 than they could read, however, Mrs. F. obtained 
 permission to see the husband, who is a sincere 
 Christian ; he so enjoyed her reading and pray- 
 ing with him that on parting he said, ' I know 
 God sent you here; your mission is from God.' 
 So she went on her way rejoicing, knowing that 
 the Lord had called her indeed. There seems 
 such a nice spirit among these neighbouring 
 workers. They go to each other's prayer meet- 
 ings, and in every way work so hand in hand ; 
 it reminded me more of the deaconesses than 
 anything I have seen, for there was the inde- 
 pendence of individual separate action in their 
 work, and yet union, because that work was for 
 the one Master. I have visited Sarah Bird 
 weekly, and much enjoy being with her. One 
 day she was very weak and low, but said, she 
 ' did not fear death ; she heard of it as a dark 
 valley, but she only thought of it as lighted up 
 by the presence of Him Who promiocd to be 
 with her.' "
 
 2l6 LONDON. 
 
 The rest of this paper, which is very long, is 
 taken up with accounts of special branches of 
 the mission, interesting indeed, but too detailed 
 to be inserted here. An account of the Bible- 
 women's day at Walthamstow is, however, too 
 graphic to be omitted : — 
 
 '' Come with me to the bedside of the cripple 
 of London Wall, and you will hear her earnest 
 desire that to-morrow may be fine that the 
 Bible women may enjoy their day in the coun- 
 try. And now that that day has come and 
 gone, you, as well as she, may like to know 
 something of it. In three different parts of 
 London, at lo o'clock on the morning of July 
 31st, there might have been seen large vans 
 receiving their passengers. And did you inquire 
 who were those neatly dressed, pleasant look- 
 ing women, you would have been answered, 
 * These are the 160 Bible women who are going 
 to enjoy the yearly treat, to which they all look 
 forward with pleasure.' An hour or two later, 
 and far away from the roar and din of the 
 mighty city, you would find ten vans setting 
 down that same party at the door of a country
 
 LONDON. 217 
 
 house in Essex. And then, by carriage or by 
 omnibus, would come those to whom the Bible 
 women are very closely knit by ties which are felt 
 but cannot be explained. Watch them a little 
 and see the meeting between the Bible woman 
 and her lady-superintendent, or listen to the tones 
 of regret in which the one assigns a reason for 
 the absence of the other, and you will feel how 
 the pleasures of the day are doubled by being 
 shared. Now let us try to recall the scene — a 
 contrast, indeed, to that left but a few hours 
 before. Soft grass beneath the feet, and lovely 
 flowers and trees around, and God's bright sky 
 abo\'e, and the glorious sun shining as it only 
 seems to shine in the country, and the air so 
 pure and clear that you seem to realize in the 
 gladness of your heart a fresh feeling of the 
 goodness of Him of Whom you can say, ' My 
 Father made them all.' And if you join the 
 scattered groups, you hear nothing discordant 
 with the feelings of the moment ; but how He 
 Who made all these bright flowers and trees, 
 those playful rabbits and fair children, is not 
 God alone of the country but also of the town.
 
 2l8 LONDON. 
 
 " The bell has rung ; let us follow the women 
 into that large tent and see how bounteous a 
 provision has been made for their refreshment. 
 Nor are the women there alone ; the ladies, as 
 well as their host and hostess, are caring that 
 each should be provided for according to her 
 taste. Now they have sung a hymn and dis- 
 persed through the grounds ; we shall join 
 some of them and hear some sad tales. Oh, if 
 we were to tell of the night that one spent 
 seeking a little girl who had left her home, 
 what revelations were made to eye and ear of 
 the wickedness, not only of men and women, 
 but also of children. But is not the day too 
 lovely so to mar its brightness ? we would rather 
 tell the other side. Here is one who speaks of 
 the sick-bed she has lately left ; on it lies a 
 woman gasping for breath, the unnatural 
 sharpening of the nose telling her end is near; 
 beside her, a little one sick too, but sleeping 
 now. She tells of such a revelation of Jesus* 
 love to her, as vivid as a voice telling her He 
 loved her. Once before she heard that voice. 
 Months ago she was outside her door ; a pious 
 neighbour heard her cough, and warned her
 
 LONDON. 219 
 
 that soon perhaps she would lie sick unto 
 death, and then how would it be with her soul ? 
 She would not listen, but the words stuck to 
 her. The neighbour came to pray with her, 
 and one night the never-forgotten question was 
 answered. She was rising from her bed to 
 pray, and, as it were beside her, she heard a 
 voice saying to her, ' Thy sins are forgiven 
 thee.' How gladly thenceforth she came to the 
 mothers' meetings, from which she was never 
 absent when it was possible to attend. Then 
 listen to this death-bed scene ; there is one in 
 great bodily suffering, yet enjoying the peace 
 which passeth all understanding. A week since 
 the Bible woman left her, apparently careless, 
 but with her sickness, the Spirit brought to her 
 remembrance words heard long since in that 
 novv' to her ' blessed mission room.' You hear 
 of infidels converted, by God's blessing, on the 
 reading of His Word brought to their doors by 
 these women, and of scenes such as this : * One 
 day I opened a door to see, as I thought, a 
 corpse on the bed before me ; horror struck, I 
 closed it on that chamber of death, but felt, as
 
 220 LONDON. 
 
 it were, forced into the room and down on my 
 knees beside that bed. I prayed, and the eyes 
 of the seeming corpse opened. ' Who are you ? 
 Who sent j^ou here with those words for me 7* 
 Oh, it was because Christ would have that soul 
 with Him for ever, for she was only spared to 
 hear from Him, * To-day shalt thou be with 
 me in paradise.' 
 
 " Here is a woman from a country district, 
 and but a partial description can be given of one 
 house she entered : five motherless children, 
 with a bad father, left all but naked ; a boy of 
 fourteen with only a ragged pair of trousers, 
 into one leg of which an arm was thrust ; a girl 
 but a year younger and three other children in 
 a similar plight ; now clothed and cared for, 
 they go to school, and the boy is in emplo3^ment. 
 Shall not these things come up in remembrance 
 before the King of Kings ? All is not bright in 
 the Bible-woman's path, however ; many are 
 her discouragements, but her work is with the 
 Lord, and her reward with her God, even 
 though she should be called to lie, as one now 
 does, in all the agony of cholera, brought on by
 
 LONDON. 221 
 
 the malaria caused by the late great fire in her 
 neighbourhood. The pleasant day is near its 
 close, and again all are gathered in the tent, 
 and after tea addresses are given ; a faithful 
 word in season, urging them to search and see 
 first that their own hearts are right with God, 
 to examine whether they can tell to dying 
 sinners of a Saviour they have found, and im- 
 pressing on them the importance of themselves 
 drinking deeply of the well of life, searching 
 their Bibles and holding communion with 
 heaven, drawing thence each day's and hour's 
 supplies, and so maintaining personal holiness, 
 as by their life and conduct to be seen as living 
 epistles, ' known and read of all men.' And 
 then they separate, having had this word of 
 God given them as their motto in the work to 
 which, with new vigour, they hope to return. 
 Col. iii. 23, 24." 
 
 Early in October, Agnes came home for a 
 short visit, and most warmly was she welcomed 
 by her poor people at Fahan, who had often 
 asked reproachfully had she forgotten them, 
 and was she never coming back. It was hard
 
 222 LONDON. 
 
 to tell them that this was only a visit, and that 
 the sunshine of her frequent presence was no 
 longer to brighten their cottage homes. On 
 her journey home she wrote to my mother : — 
 
 *' Indeed, darling, this must be but a visit. 
 If it were to have been otherwise, I believe 
 God would have given me those to whom to 
 hand over my work before leaving it ; such, 
 however, with all my endeavours, was not the 
 case, and till my way is made clear thus to give 
 it up, I must keep on. I love it more than I 
 could have imagined, and neither did I believe 
 I was so loved by my fellow-workers as this 
 parting has proved ; therefore, in many ways I 
 shall return more sure of my position, and 
 having it brightened by the consciousness of 
 affection. Unless you absolutely withhold your 
 consent, I hope certainly to return, and I feel I 
 must tr3'% wdien at home, to keep myself freer 
 than before from the all-engrossing interests 
 which are still to me as great as before I left 
 home, and which I dread again to break. I 
 almost fear to return to my poor, lest it should 
 make me doubt what my next step ought to be
 
 LONDON. 223 
 
 — whether to remain at Fahan or return to 
 London." 
 
 This feeling, and the intense love she bore 
 everything at Fahan, made this visit one of 
 very mingled feelings to her. At first the en- 
 joyment of the pure country air, the mountain 
 walks, and all the sights and sounds of home 
 seemed perfect ; but as, day after day, the time 
 drew nearer for her departure, one could see 
 the struggle in her mind, though there was 
 "uo doubt as to where the path of duty lay. We 
 let her go the less grudgingly this time, because 
 we had settled to spend the ensuing winter in 
 Italy, and hoped to see her in London in a few 
 weeks, deluding ourselves with a faint hope 
 that she might be persuaded to accompany us. 
 From Dublin, where she spent a few days on 
 her return journey, she wrote : — 
 
 *' I must write a few lines, to tell you of my 
 exceeding enjoyment in renewing old and valu- 
 able friendships. I paid Mr. Hare a visit in 
 his study; a heavy cold had prevented him 
 preaching, but he said a few words on ' Fellow- 
 ship with Jesus.' This, he says, is not as we
 
 LONDON". 
 
 fancy, a kind of ecstatic state, but, even if we 
 have known this, it is more real perhaps when, 
 overwhelmed with care or sorrow, w'e find the 
 promise fulfilled, * My grace is sufficient for 
 thee.' On Sunday I went to Trinity Church 
 again, where Mr. Gregg preached on the 
 twenty-second anniversary of its opening. 
 Afterwards I went to Lurgan Street Ragged 
 School, where I was very kindly received, and 
 found many changes and improvements, plenty 
 of teachers and room ; but Lurgan Street has 
 a fascination to me from old memories. I think 
 I never enjoyed anything more than teaching 
 there eleven years ago." 
 
 When we arrived in London, early in De- 
 cember, we found her looking thin and ill, and 
 she confessed that she had been suffering from 
 a wearying pain in the brow, and had consulted 
 Dr. Kidd about it. His remedies gave her 
 temporary relief, but it was evident she was 
 not strong or well, and we urged on her very 
 strongly that accompanying us to Italy would 
 be the best cure. This seemed to her like 
 abandoning her post, and she could not be
 
 LONDON. 225 
 
 persuaded to think of it. Ten days later, at 
 Genoa, we found a letter from her, saying that 
 she had been so ill that Dr. Kidd had ordered 
 her change of air : — 
 
 '' Mrs. R. insisted on my going to see Dr. K. 
 this morning, as I was in agony with a new 
 pain in the head and brain, worse than ever to- 
 day. He says all comes from weakness ; that 
 I am not as strong as 1 look, that I must have 
 change of air, so I have written to ask Mr. 
 and Mrs. F. if I may go to them, at Highfield, 
 for a few days." 
 
 The rest and country quiet of our dear 
 friends' lovely rectory had a marvellous effect, 
 and a short visit sufficed to recruit her 
 strength. She had felt much depriving Mrs. 
 Raynard of her help in that peculiarly busy 
 month of December, and was anxious to re- 
 turn as soon as possible to her duties. They 
 were soon to be once more interrupted, and 
 this time not to be again resumed. The 
 graphic and loving pen which bore affectionate 
 testimony to her life-work in the April number 
 (1868) of the * Missing Link Magazine,' must 
 
 Q
 
 226 LONDON. 
 
 here tell the story of that unexpected break : — 
 "The record of her visits was scarcely com- 
 pleted on New Year's Eve, when the postman's 
 knock/ which conveys to some hearts, with 
 every hour, the burden of grief and pain,, 
 brought news to Hunter Street, which had 
 been six days on the road, from Italy ; news 
 of sickness and dear relative claims, which 
 might sever this true helper from our mis- 
 sion, and make these the last of her London 
 visits. Her dear sister lay ill of fever at Rome. 
 Ten minutes afterwards followed the telegram, 
 which had been only six hours on the road. 
 * We wish you to come to us at once.' And 
 we had to learn to do without one who had 
 seemed given of God to especial need, and who 
 was endowed with a gift of such special fitness 
 as is very rarely equalled." 
 
 That personal courage was one of Agnes's 
 characteristics will be doubted by none who 
 have read the account of her journey from Co- 
 logne to Kaiserswerth in a snowstorm. On 
 that occasion, to fulfil her promise of being 
 present at the midnight service; she braved
 
 LONDON. 227 
 
 the perils of the way, and now she starts alone 
 on a far more distant journey, anxiety pressing 
 on her heart, and fear darkening the future. To 
 my aunt she gives the history of the journey 
 as follows : — 
 
 " CiviTA Vecchia, Monday, 
 
 " Dearest Aunt, — Here I am for the night, 
 unable to get on, when every hour is of im- 
 portance ; one almost asks, * Why is delay per- 
 mitted ?' And yet all is ordered, and ordered 
 for the best. Perchance that loving Father, 
 knowing what I fear is before me, saw that I 
 needed a quiet night to strengthen me. But 
 I must tell 5^ou all the past, for I dare not, will 
 not, think of the future. On Wednesday even- 
 ing, Mrs. R. and I had not long returned from 
 the Scripture dissolving- views for St. Giles's, 
 when I received mamma's letter. She had 
 said in her first, J. was poorly, and this sent 
 a pang through me ; not an hour after came 
 the telegram ; this was about ten at night. I 
 flew in next door for * Bradshaw,' but soon re- 
 membered that the next night was the soonest I 
 could get off, on account of the passport ; also,
 
 228 LONDON. 
 
 that that would be time enough to catch the 
 Saturday boat ; then one must wait, and wait 
 calmly, too, and I made up my mind I would 
 go at once to bed and sleep, and not think ; so 
 I asked of God the refreshing sleep which He 
 gave. Of course there was much mission bu- 
 siness I must leave settled ; it was due to Mrs. 
 R., who was really placed in a most difficult 
 position by my sudden departure ; no words can 
 tell all the kindness and sympathy shown me 
 by them all ; so I went before breakfast to give 
 directions to H., then dear Mrs. R. would 
 come with me to Mr. Kinnaird, whose order 
 got me a passport at once, then to Dr. Kidd, 
 who gave me directions what to do, and said, 
 that I am now equal to the journey, and it 
 may, with God's blessing, add to me years of 
 health, so God out of evil brings good to His 
 own. I had accounts to settle, bid all good- 
 byes, buy some necessaries, and be back for 
 dinner at 2, then packing with many interrup- 
 tions ; at 6 I was ready, and then we had tea, 
 and Mrs. R. came in to muffle me, and we 
 had our last prayer together. Mr. R. took me
 
 LONDON. 229 
 
 to the train ; at 8.30 I began the journey, and 
 reached Paris at 8 next morning. I had an old 
 lady and her companion in the carriage; be- 
 fore reaching Paris, she found out my connec- 
 tion with the ' Book and its Mission,' and I 
 found her a very dear Christian ; we all knelt 
 together in the carriage, so prayer was in- 
 deed made for me. The next few hours were 
 very busy ones ; alone, I went from consul to 
 nuncio, and thence to the prefect of police, to 
 have my passport in order, and then to the 
 top of the Champs Elysees, to see Mrs. R.'s 
 friend. I had seen her before ; she was very 
 kind, fed me well, and saw me off at night. 
 From 8.30 till near 4 next afternoon to Mar- 
 seilles. Thence I telegraphed to mother ; and 
 supposing our boat Vv^ent as usual to Genoa 
 and Leghorn, I asked for an answer. Then to 
 an hotel, bathed, and had a solid tea, and on 
 board the steamer at 9 o'clock. Fancy, first a 
 long wait at the bureau, then drive in an om- 
 nibus, then a little boat, and ascent to the 
 ship's side, all by the light of a little lantern. 
 I was the only lady, and met with no French
 
 230 LONDON. 
 
 politeness ; my only companions were two 
 soldiers, and a very common English groom. 
 Fortunately I had my respirator, and all my 
 cloaks on ; the cold was bitter. On board, my 
 passport and ticket were well examined, I was 
 shown by the captain to my cabin, and he 
 taught the new stewardess how to make my 
 bed, etc. The storm was tremendous, and we 
 could not leave the harbour that night, nor 
 till 10 next day, and then mid waves moun- 
 tains high, constantly washing over the decks ; 
 the cabin was close, so I had had coffee 
 earty, and came up before 8. I had a shel- 
 tered nook, and waterproof on, so I never left 
 the deck till dark, and had my meals brought 
 to me; such a kind captain, and 'la donna' 
 was treated like a queen. The storm raged 
 so, they feared they should have to shelter for 
 the night, but God heard my prayer, and we 
 went on. Such a night; often I was nearly 
 out on the floor, but the morning calmed, and 
 the greater part of to-day has been pleasant, 
 except two hours of tremendous rain ; such cold, 
 all the hills white with hail. Of course I was
 
 LONDON. 231 
 
 anxious to catch the last train, but we could 
 not land till the passports went on shore, and 
 permission came, and then off in a little boat, 
 and a second passport examination before land- 
 ing, and then custom-house, and so the last 
 train, at 2.30, had started before we arrived. I 
 would have paid any sum to get on, but be- 
 tween what I heard of robbers and what I 
 saw of Italians, I felt the carriage scheme 
 must be given up, besides I did not feel it 
 right to arrive at one in the morning, and 
 arouse poor mother, or maidenly to take the 
 groom as companion and protector, so it seemed 
 best to trust to God bringing me in His own 
 good time, as I hope to reach Rome about ten 
 to-morrow. I have had tea, and paid my bill, 
 as I am to leave the hotel at 5.30, and now 
 am not really so very weary, nor so very un- 
 happy, I have looked all in the face from the 
 first moment, so I trust He will strengthen me 
 to support her who is my only one perhaps 
 now. It is best not to think of the past. I 
 will only say of the journeys past, God has 
 very specially been with me, and I have been
 
 2^,2 LONDON. 
 
 strong through all, both mind and body. I 
 never felt better, but for a little time this last 
 delay was a bitter drop ; perhaps it made me 
 feel I was not so strong to meet mamma as 
 I hope to be after the night's rest, as I have 
 had no bed for four nights now. 
 
 *' Rome, Tuesday. — You will hear from 
 mamma how I arrived, and found God had 
 indeed been better to me than my fears. The 
 night was not an easy one ; do what I would, 
 dreadful visions came, and then half-hourly 
 bells at the gate-house opposite roused me. 
 At half-past five such a walk to the station, 
 over a new half-made road, almost in total 
 darkness, and such a bitter wind, but every 
 thought was to get off; it seem.ed so long, four 
 hours by train going fifty miles, then passport 
 and douanc again ; but once there, I almost 
 wished myself miles away, and felt as if body 
 and mind were becoming stone. God indeed 
 has crowned me wdth tender mercies and loving 
 kindnesses. May I never forget to praise Him. 
 ** Your ever loving, 
 
 ** Agnes E. Jones.**
 
 LONDON. 233 
 
 "Hotel d'Angleterre, Rome, Jan. 27, 1862. 
 
 " Dearest Aunt, — I think I have never writ- 
 ten you one line since I came to this dismal, 
 dreary Rome. You cannot conceive a more 
 gloomy place ; the narrow dark streets where 
 every vehicle threatens your life, and as to mud 
 and smells, no one knows what they are who 
 has not experienced Rome. I never go out 
 but as a duty, for the whole is so depressing, 
 and it is indeed so utterly the ' city given to 
 idolatry ;' the associations of its past are for- 
 gotten in its present, and except to the Pincian 
 Hill, the fashionable promenade, one has to go 
 far through streets before reaching country air. 
 My favourite walk is to the Coliseum, the 
 only thing I have yet seen which has impressed 
 me ; arches and sculptures and pictures one 
 seems to know from copies ; not that I have 
 seen much of these yet. To-day I went to the 
 Vatican, but had only time to see the Sistine 
 Chapel ; it would take months to study the 
 figures in the frescoes, the anatomy is so per- 
 fect, but different Popes have got artists to 
 clothe Michael Angelo's naked figures. I may
 
 234 LONDON. 
 
 say I have not seen St. Peter's ; I was only 
 once there for a grand festival, and saw Pio 
 Nono, but not the details of the building. I 
 saw some paintings at the Palazzo Doria and 
 the Catacombs of St. Agnese, and here my 
 sight-seeing ends, but I am not yet in a mood to 
 enjoy sights, though both patients are better ; it 
 is very slow work, and I can't leave S. long." 
 
 On Agnes's arrival in Rome she found that 
 I w^as out of danger, though still extremely 
 weak, but a cousin, who was one of our party, 
 was in a very critical state with the same kind 
 of fever. Agnes at once devoted herself to her, 
 and her kind and judicious nursing is fondly 
 remembered. The attendance was a trying 
 one, involving watchful nights and anxious 
 days ; air and exercise for an hour or two 
 daily was essential, and Agnes used to return 
 from her little expeditions with wonderful his- 
 tories of the places she had visited, always 
 making her way beyond the walls, and ex- 
 ploring ruins and tombs and temples with a 
 courage and perseverance all her own. Few 
 ladies, perhaps, have ever so thoroughly ex-
 
 LONDON. 235 
 
 amined the antiquities of that wonderful city ; 
 the pictures, too, she delighted in, and when I 
 was strong enough to visit the galleries, she 
 acted as cicerone, and saved me much fatigue 
 by taking me at once to those paintings that 
 were really worth seeing. Finding that neither 
 of the invalids were likely to regain strength 
 quickly, Agnes at once determined to remain 
 with us during our stay abroad, and wrote to 
 tell Mrs. Ranyard that she must give up all 
 hope of resuming her London work. Truly she 
 ever remembered that home duties came first, 
 and only when the necessity for her presence 
 was removed did she turn again to more ac- 
 tive labours. After some weeks in Naples, and 
 a second short visit to Rome, we proceeded to 
 Florence, where Agnes met and had much 
 pleasant intercourse with Rosa and Francesco 
 Madiai, the Kaiserswerth deaconesses then 
 lately established in the town, and some good 
 English Christians, to whom she had introduc- 
 tions. The great heat of an Italian Mslv, how- 
 ever, relaxed her strength, which had seemed 
 to be restored by the rest and change, and soon
 
 236 LONDON. 
 
 after our arrival in Florence, she proposed 
 leaving us for a time, to visit some of the 
 deaconess institutions in Switzerland, promis- 
 ing to rejoin us in Paris early in July. A 
 friend, who was on her way to Geneva, sug- 
 gested that they should travel together, and 
 they started about May 15th for the Italian 
 lakes, whence they were to cross the Simplon. 
 This friend wrote to a relative, " Agnes was 
 the most agreeable and the most useful fellow- 
 traveller I ever met ; she knew or found out 
 all that was necessary for travellers to know, 
 and while others were discussing she had all 
 arranged." 
 
 At Villeneuve they parted, and Agnes's first 
 visit was to St. Loup, a deaconess institution 
 near Lausanne, of which she had heard much 
 when at Kaiserswerth ; the account of her stay 
 there, with some notices of Riehen, Zurich, and 
 Mulhaus, will be found in the appendix. Stras- 
 burg and Mannedorf she also visited, and at the 
 latter spent some days with that remarkable 
 woman Dorathea Trudel, of whose faith and 
 prayer she ever spoke with the deepest admi- 
 ration.
 
 LONDON. 237 
 
 In July, Agnes joined us in Paris, and almost 
 her first words to my mother were a request 
 that she might devote herself entirely to 
 nursing- work ; all that she had witnessed at 
 these institutions having more deeply im- 
 pressed upon her the conviction she had long 
 felt, that her special talent was for labouring in 
 hospitals. There were many to take up Bible 
 work and other branches of Christian labour; 
 few who had physical strength, nerve, and in- 
 clination to devote themselves to the sick in 
 hospital wards. My mother could no longer 
 resist her wish, and when we arrived in Lon- 
 don, Agnes entered at once into correspondence 
 with Miss Nightingale and Mrs. Wardroper, 
 and it was arranged that in October she should 
 enter St. Thomas's Hospital as a Nightingale 
 probationer. 
 
 Is this the place to pause a few moments 
 and vindicate this step ? Are there any who 
 have read so far in the story of a life, told so 
 imperfectly and reflecting so dimly the bright- 
 ness and beauty of the original, who ask if she 
 was acting wisely and rightly in this ? I can
 
 238 LONDON. 
 
 scarcely think it ; to me, it seems as if God's 
 guiding hand is seen so plainly in every step, 
 that to have remained How in the quiet shelter 
 of her home, even though she had continued to 
 fulfil there all her duties as daughter and sister 
 and friend, could only have been done by turn- 
 ing aside from the path that God had opened 
 up before her. It was no enthusiastic dreamer, 
 no young untried worker who enters this path ; 
 each step before had been leading to it ; she 
 had gone on from day to day fulfilling each 
 present duty, leaving the future to God, with 
 dreams and aspirations indeed, after greater 
 devotedness to Him, more special service for 
 Him, but content to trust all to His guiding 
 and to wait His time. As long as parental 
 consent was wanting, she would not even un- 
 duly press for it ; she realized, as few realize, 
 that hearts are in God's hand, and that He 
 inclines them to what He would have them do. 
 Many said then, perhaps some may say now : 
 but why so much training ? Surely, after those 
 eight months at Kaiserswerth, she must have 
 known enough of nursing to take at once the
 
 LONDON. 239 
 
 superintendence of a hospital ? I will answer 
 in the words of one who is the highest authority 
 on this subject, and who, in her most touching 
 and affectionate paper on my dear sister, says,* 
 " Nursing is an art ; and if it is to be made an 
 art, requires as exclusive a devotion, as hard a 
 preparation, as any painter's or sculptor's work; 
 for what is the having to do with dead canvas 
 or cold marble, compared with having to do 
 with the living body, the temple of God's Spirit. 
 It is one of the fine arts : I had almost said the 
 finest of the fine arts. . . . There is no such 
 thing as amateur art ; there is no such thing as 
 amateur nursing. . . . Three-fourths of the 
 whole mischief in women's lives arises from 
 their excepting themselves from the rule of 
 training considered needful for man.^' 
 
 And this was Agnes's own firm conviction ; 
 everything she attempted to do, she wished to 
 do as thoroughly as possible, and she always 
 said she would never profess to teach any one 
 what she did not fully understand herself. And 
 
 * 'Una and the Lion,' by Florence Nightingale, June, 1858; 
 « Good Words.'
 
 240 LONDON. 
 
 she came to her work with all the freshness and 
 energy of youth, fired with the desire to devote 
 herself and her powers to His service Who had 
 so loved her. It was not that she had tried 
 earth's pleasures and found them vanity and 
 vexation of spirit, and then turned disappointed 
 and embittered to something that would fill the 
 void ; no, God had given her grace to choose 
 Him first, and from early childhood to look to 
 His favour as her life and peace. 
 
 Blessed are they whose hearts thus yearn 
 only after heavenly love, who walk through life 
 with no hard crust of worldliness excluding the 
 sweet influences of God's blessed Spirit, and 
 who, when the Master's voice calls to special 
 devotedness, are ready to follow where He 
 leads, even if the flesh must bleed and the 
 spirit faint.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 •• All her eye loved, all her hand pressed 
 With keen affection's glow, 
 The voice of home, all pleasures best, 
 All dearest thoughts below. 
 
 " From friend-lit hearth, from social board, 
 All duteously she rose ; 
 For faith upon the Master's word 
 Can find a sure repose." 
 
 ^T^HE following paper needs no explanatory 
 -*" preface : — 
 
 " Fahan, Sunday night, September ^oth, 1862. 
 
 ** I Cor. vi. 19, 20. All good-byes are said ; 
 to-morrow I leave this loved home, and loved 
 people. ' Why do you go away ?' have -many 
 asked, and now I must answer that why, so 
 that when I look back on this decided step, I 
 may know somewhat of the position in which I 
 stood when it was taken. How shall I look
 
 242 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 back years hence, if spared ? Shall it be with 
 regret or pleasure ? I will not look forward 
 save with the earnest look at Him Whose love, 
 I trust, constraineth me, laying at His feet the 
 secret longing of my heart, that in the great 
 day of account He will blot out all my short- 
 comings, and all my sins, and say of even 
 poor weak me, * She hath done what she 
 could.* 
 
 *' For more than a year and a half has St. 
 Thomas's been a half-pleasant, half-dreaded 
 thought, and in less than a week it will be to 
 me a reality. What influence I may have there 
 for good or evil, — what trials I may be exposed 
 to — all these have been already too much, per- 
 haps, weighed and counted on. God knows 
 what may be. May He be very near, and may 
 I cling more to Him in all. Perhaps it is well 
 that I shall, at my first outset in hospital work, 
 bear the name of ' Nightingale Probationer,' for 
 that honoured name is associated with my first 
 thought of hospital life. In the winter of '54, 
 when I had those first earnest longings for 
 work, and had for months so little to satisfy
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 243 
 
 them, how I wished I were competent to join 
 the Nightingale band when they started for 
 the Crimea ! I listened to the animadversions 
 of many, but I almost worshipped her who 
 braved all, and I felt she must succeed. In 
 spring, 1853, we had been abroad ; the visit to 
 Paris deaconesses had left ' Kaiserswerth ' a 
 name of which I longed to know more. The 
 day spent there deepened this feeling, and the 
 after week of further acquaintance, with the 
 disappointment that I was not allowed to re- 
 main there, instead of seeing Switzerland, 
 made longings after Kaiserswerth-training still 
 deeper. For years I thought of it, but first, 
 mamma could not be left alone, then J. was 
 my special charge, and in no way could it be. 
 I was very happy in my home and in my work, 
 only that I longed for greater power of useful- 
 ness, and sometimes thought of what I might 
 be able to effect were I trained ; I wished for 
 nothing more than a more earnest loving spirit 
 in my work, and God's blessing on it. Then 
 came September, i860, when mamma proposed 
 that I should rest my voice, and have entire 
 
 R 2
 
 244 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 change, by a visit to Kaiserswerth. Oh, the 
 doubts and fears! but I went, trying only to 
 think of all I might learn, and what greater 
 usefulness I might become capable of. ' For a 
 month only,' as I said to Pastor Fliedner, pro- 
 testing that home and poor could not be longer 
 left. Home news seemed to say that sole 
 charge of both was doing J. good, and day after 
 day I remained at Kaiserswerth. In my second 
 month there, I had much watching of a poor 
 dying man ; sitting alone by him in that little 
 room, day after day, it went to my heart to 
 hear some of his requests refused, and to see 
 the food given him, so unfitted to his state. 
 And I sat there and thought, ' If these be the 
 trials of the sick in an institution conducted on 
 Christian principles, oh, how must it be in 
 those institutions in our own land where no 
 true charity is in the hearts of most of the 
 heads or hands that work them !' and I then 
 and there dedicated myself to do what I could 
 for Ireland, in its workhouses, infirmaries, and 
 hospitals. And so I remained at Kaiserswerth, 
 trying almost to steel myself against the fearful
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 245 
 
 accounts of sickness and death in Syria, and 
 the appeals for helpers. But at last the 
 thought came, — for awhile you may be of use 
 there, and yet return to Ireland ; and I wrote 
 to mother for leave to go to Beyrout. I took 
 that letter to the pastor, ' May I add, you will 
 let me work with your sisters when there ?* 
 He answered, * If you wish to give your life and 
 every energy to work for the sick, your own 
 country calls you ; Miss Nightingale has just 
 written to ask me for a person to fill a position 
 for which you could be easily fitted.' Next day 
 
 came Mr. R.'s letter, saying that Uncle 
 
 had advised him to ask me to prepare myself 
 for the superintendence of Liverpool Training 
 School for nurses for the poor, and would I go 
 through a course of preparation for it? I found 
 this suggestion and the pastor's were identical. 
 Also came a letter from Mrs. Ranyard ; since 
 her eldest daughter's death, she so wanted me 
 to come and be a friend and helper. Mamma 
 also urged this ; she would rather that should 
 be my work, if I were not coming home ; and 
 to me, Bible work seemed the highest. Not so
 
 246 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 to Pastor Fliedner, 'Any one with an earnest 
 Christian spirit could help there ; in hospital- 
 work there must be a special faculty.* I never 
 forgot those words. I came to London, saw 
 Miss Nightingale, who plainly put before me 
 t the difficulties of the work, the trials of the 
 training-time, kindly, lovingly, and so sympa- 
 thizingly, and yet I felt I could meet them. 
 Then came the interview with Mr. R., and the 
 feeling that I was far too young and inex- 
 perienced for anything of the kind. A year at 
 St. Thomas's m^ight give the mechanical skill 
 in nursing, but the powers requisite for or- 
 ganizing, directing, superintending, whence 
 were they to come ? No, at the head I could 
 not be, especially as I was told, my religious 
 feelings and views must be kept in the back- 
 ground, till I was considered so invaluable an 
 agent that such things should be tolerated, as 
 it were for the sake of other things. What ! was 
 I to be this giant champion ? I ! who had so little 
 to commend me. It seemed mockery, and yet 
 I had not sought the position or the work. 
 Perhaps in some other sphere there would be
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 247 
 
 work for me. Then Mrs. Ranyard's invitation 
 appeared much that would suit to prepare me; 
 with her I could learn to superintend, learn 
 what faculties I had in that way, and yet not 
 in too responsible a position, so as to do harm 
 by failing. It was not without regret I turned 
 aside from 'nursing;' and had I not felt partly 
 pledged to Mrs. Ranyard, before I visited St. 
 Thomas's, I should have returned to my origi- 
 nal purpose that very June, 1861. And yet I 
 do not regret that delay ; looking back, I feel I 
 have been prepared by that work to meet many 
 trials and difficulties which, with my previously 
 limited experience of life, I could not have ima- 
 gined. And that isolation which so tried me 
 then, probably I shall have to meet again. 
 There is no second home in the world, — no re- 
 placing of mother and sister. But I never for- 
 got 'nursing,' and it often seemed I ought to 
 return to it. When I was called to Rome, by 
 S.'s bed, as before by Aunt L.'s, I felt as if I 
 had somewhat of the nursing-faculty, but 
 always the question came, ' Could I govern and 
 teach others?' I went to St. Loup, and
 
 248 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 learned lessons there ; lessons from imperfec- 
 tions. Riehen and Zurich taught me how God 
 can make feeble women strong in such work,— 
 can teach even weak ones, who seem so cling- 
 ing as to need support, to stand and give guid- 
 ance and help to others. At Strasbiirg, with 
 Sister Emilie as with Sister Trina, I discussed 
 the difficulties of a superintendent, and many 
 of Sister Sophie's words came to memory from 
 a new point of view, and so less tremblingly I 
 came to consider the question, * How could T 
 help ?' and I determined at least to try, to 
 come to St. Thomas's Hospital, and to see 
 whether in so great a work as that of train- 
 ing true-hearted. God-fearing nurses there 
 were not some niche for me. If every one 
 shrinks back because incompetent, who will 
 ever do anything? ''Lord, here am I, send 
 me." 
 
 ''And as to this dread of associates let me, 
 more and more, remember Mr. Rathbone's 
 words : * Are you more above those with whom 
 you will have to mix than our Saviour was in 
 every thought and in sensitive refinement ?'
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 249 
 
 What am I to meet and combat evil ? I, so 
 weak, so needing to be led and influenced 
 aright ? If I am in the way, as I trust I am, 
 in which God would have me be, will He not 
 care for that ? May God go with me and help 
 me." 
 
 While the question was still pending as to 
 whether she would enter on a course of training 
 for hospital work, or take up the Bible work 
 under Mrs. Ranyard, in 1861, she had written 
 •to the aunt, to whom, of all her relatives, she 
 ever opened most her heart. 
 
 *' My dearest Aunt. — I feel as if I could 
 write folios, and not give you an idea of my 
 present feelings ; and yet in writing I can do so 
 better than in words, for though I never write 
 what I do not feel, I know I express myself so 
 differently when I speak, that I often fear I 
 must seem to deceive. I might write much of 
 what I have seen and heard in this last week, 
 and yet the outer has not been so eventful to 
 me as the inner world. Still, so different am I 
 to what I appear, that I am charged with in- 
 difference as to engaging in the Bible work,
 
 250 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 while it is what I could engage in gladly this 
 moment, heart and soul ; it is my old familiar 
 work ; it is what I have longed and do long to 
 be wholly engaged in ; it is a work I always 
 feel God must bless, because it is His, not our 
 word, and yet I dare not dwell on all its allure- 
 ments. Look at it in externals : in lodgings, 
 next door to Mrs. R., who would be always 
 ready to help and advise, I should have the 
 superintendence of the new girls' refuge and of 
 its excellent matron, the training of some Bible 
 women, and the conducting of a women's class, 
 — a Bible work, a home, and my spare time my 
 own. Could anything be more attractive ? per- 
 haps, to put it in strong relief, no contrast that 
 could be chosen would do so more than my 
 other opening path. God guide me, for it is a 
 life choice, and yet I do feel one way or the 
 other must be closed. I must not enter on a 
 path half-hearted, often to look back to its 
 starting-point and say : Oh, that I had chosen 
 the other. Well, what is the other ? If it be 
 * seeking for some great thing to do,' it is by 
 going down, indeed, before beginning to mount,
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. "^S^ 
 
 and I do feel, if my mother gives me leave to 
 enter it, it is because God will have it so, and I 
 will allow this to turn the scale. I have looked 
 it in the face and there is no middle choice.' 
 Kindly and plainly did Miss Nightingale put it 
 to me, ' Could I do so ?' I have asked it my- 
 self, and I say 'I can ;' I had so contemplated 
 it before I left Kaiserswerth. If I wish to be 
 trained for practical usefulness, nothing else 
 will do, says Miss Nightingale, than a year's 
 training in a London hospital. There are but 
 two open. King's College and St. Thomas's. 
 Well, if ever I contemplated the first, which I 
 did not with its High Church head, it was at an 
 end when I found I must become a sister to do 
 so. And at St. Thomas's, I must be prepared 
 to enter as a common nurse ; my companions 
 there, moral and respectable, but not, as a body, 
 Christian women. Miss N. dwelt on all this, 
 and yet I do not feel it would really lower me 
 to do so. My motto for whatever my work 
 or sphere may be is Psalm Ixxi. i6. And might 
 not God give me a mission to St. Thomas's 
 nurses and patients? And then the training
 
 232 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 past, all this sanitary and nursing movement 
 might find one at least who was not High 
 Church, a trained agent to train others. Then, 
 were I a skilful mechanical worker, they might 
 let me be more of a spiritual one. Jesus be- 
 came a servant, and why may not I be a ser- 
 vant of servants ? I know something of that ; 
 though, as Miss N. said, where one had Chris- 
 tian communion it was easier. I did the most 
 menial work at Kaiserswerth. You know I 
 shall not stand alone ; the Triune God will be 
 with me." 
 
 This letter proves, if proof were wanting, 
 that she fully realized all she was entering 
 upon, when she left her lovely country home 
 and immured herself for twelve months in a 
 hospital in London. For the history of the 
 time she spent there we have no journal, and 
 only three or four letters to refer to. The first 
 letter describes her arrival : — 
 
 " We reached London at 6.30, and I was 
 fortunate about my luggage, so got off at once. 
 I desired the cabman to drive to Surrey Gar- 
 dens, and we drove on long through well-known
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 253 
 
 streets, but when we passed the obelisk I came 
 to new ground. However, not long after, we 
 stopped, and I saw a great gateway, over which 
 was in large letters, ' St. Thomas's Hospital,* 
 so a bell was rung, and I said ' Nightingale 
 nurse ;' the gate opened and we drove on a 
 little way and then saw a long half-covered 
 way leading to a large well-lighted room. Up 
 to this I walked ; saw porter No. 2, and was 
 admitted into a large warm hall, well panelled 
 and partitioned, as all the house is, with well- 
 planed deal, varnished its own colour, which 
 looks so clean and light. I had a long wait 
 while the cabman brought in the luggage, and 
 then was conducted past the doors of some 
 wards, in which I saw a few patients in bed 
 and two nurses seated most comfortably at 
 work at a table in the middle of the room ; 
 then we crossed a large space with trees, giving, 
 as did all I saw, the idea and feeling of being 
 far from any town ; and though I have not yet 
 been out, there is the perfect stillness of the 
 country. But to go on and introduce you as I 
 was. The porter led me into a kind of small
 
 254 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 hall, and instantly two nice-looking, almost 
 deaconess-looking, nurses came forward and 
 received me most kindly, saying Mrs. W. (the 
 lady-superintendent) had been in several times 
 during the afternoon and evening, and had just 
 left, having given me up for that day. How- 
 ever, nothing could exceed the kindness of these 
 nurses; their dress a kind of grey stuff, very neat, 
 white aprons and caps, rather too round and co- 
 quettish I thought for sisters, but a neat pretty 
 style of dress, which will, I am sure, be most 
 becoming to Nurse Agnes. They brought me 
 into a large, lofty, comfortable room, with 
 tables, chairs, flowers, pictures, books, carpet, 
 rug, fire, gas, like any sitting-room ; off this, 
 surrounded by the varnished boards, are the 
 little bedroom cells ; their wooden walls about 
 ten feet high, not halfway to the ceiling, with a 
 bed, small chest of drawers, wash-stand, chair, 
 and towel-rail. The room was formerly a 
 refreshment room, and is a very handsome and 
 lofty one, lighted from the roof, and now sur- 
 rounded by the nurses' cells, with the open 
 space in the middle for their sitting-room,
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 255 
 
 where I am now writing at one of the numerous 
 little tables, with bright flowers and numbers 
 of all kinds of magazines around me. Two 
 things cheered me much to see : first, on enter- 
 ing the sitting-room, a picture of Kaiserswerth; 
 secondly, in the bedroom, a large Bible on the 
 drawers beside the looking-glass. I was taken 
 to my room, provided with hot water, and after 
 a little, called to tea, comfortably prepared in 
 the nice light eating-room, quite separate from, 
 but near our sitting-room. . . . There is a tem- 
 porary church fitted up in the house, which all 
 attend, but every second Sunday I shall have 
 the whole afternoon to myself to go where I 
 like. There are fourteen Nightingale nurses, 
 besides sisters, and about 2S0 patients, when 
 the house is full, which it is not yet, as this place 
 was only opened a few days ago. I went to 
 bed soon after tea, and was up for breakfast 
 this morning at 6.30. Everything is so quiet 
 that you more feel than know that others are 
 moving around you. My nurse friend sum- 
 moned me to breakfast where I had tea last 
 night, and I found the whole party assembled ;
 
 256 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 a nice respectable-looking set ; all amiable- 
 looking, some pretty; the sister sat at the head 
 of the table. Bread-and-butter and toast in 
 plenty, and each person with their own tea-pot 
 and sugar-bowl, which they wash and keep in 
 their own room. Each cell has its own gas, 
 and there is some general light which seems to 
 burn all night, for I never woke but I saw it; I 
 could read a large print Bible in bed by it. It 
 seems to me as if, with God's blessing, I may 
 have great means of usefulness here, both 
 with nurses and patients, for one seems 
 to have much freedom. God grant me the 
 best influence, but He must keep my own 
 soul very close to Himself. And now, dar- 
 lings, do not fret yourselves about me, there 
 seems to be every provision for comfort, 
 and all I have yet seen or heard has given 
 me a pleasant impression, and I feel at home 
 already." 
 
 A month later she writes : — 
 
 ** The patients often call for me, and some- 
 times it is, * When you have time, will you 
 come and talk a little ?" I find I have little
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 257 
 
 time for any but the one subject, or asking 
 particulars about their illness, which we are 
 required to know. Some of the children I get 
 to learn hymns for me and teach those who 
 cannot read, but I have not time every day for 
 all. Sometimes I have an hour with the charge 
 of my ward on me alone, when sister and nurse 
 are at dinner, and when the porters' feet are 
 heard bringing in some fresh case, I sometimes 
 fear lest I should not know how to act ; how- 
 ever, no very bad case has yet so come in, and 
 I have always the sister of the next ward at 
 hand to call. ... I have put up one of the 
 * Silent Comiorters,' like mother's, and think of 
 her reading the same every morning. I fancy I 
 am in the best ward, that is, the one easiest to 
 get on in with the nurses, etc., but it is good 
 discipline to have to meet all characters, and 
 one has always power of appeal to Mrs. W., 
 whose good sense and justice are proverbial. 
 She is a woman whom one must respect. I 
 love her already, and one hears on all sides of 
 her kindness." 
 
 n
 
 258 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 ** Christmas, 1862. 
 
 " We have got our hospital trousseau, and are 
 so busy every spare moment, I must finish 
 my bonnet for to-morrow, and my jacket for 
 Christmas Day, so shallhave scarcely a moment. 
 I have given out my dresses to be made, so am 
 better off than most. We are obliged to go to 
 church in hospital costume, but in our daily 
 walks may dress as we like. ... I often think 
 how you would laugh if you could take a peep 
 at me, for instance, when I am giving medicine 
 to forty-two men ; one amuses me — he opens 
 his mouth for me to pop in a pill, and stops to 
 thank me before he swallows it." 
 
 No date, su])posed spring 1863. 
 
 " I am not only off night duty, but I am at 
 Barnet. Are you not surprised ? A bright 
 thought struck me on Tuesday night, that, as 
 I might be off night duty any day, it would just 
 be the time for Barnet before going to a new 
 ward, so I wrote to ask Mrs. Pennefather if she 
 could have me, and received last night a most 
 kind note, asking me to go for that night, if I
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 259 
 
 could ; if not, as early as I liked this morning, 
 and stay till Monday, so I came by the eight 
 o'clock train to breakfast. Mrs. W. was so 
 kind about it, and said I need not go on duty 
 till Tuesday morning, so might stay here late 
 on Monday; after that I go to the male medical 
 ward. It was quite a novelty to sleep last 
 night, my first night in bed for six weeks. I 
 thought the rest and change would do me good, 
 and also that it would be better than breaking 
 in on my work a few weeks hence. I was so 
 tired last night, having been more than twenty- 
 four hours out of bed, and without sleep, my 
 own fault as you will hear. On Wednesday I 
 got up at' 4.30 P.M. to get my tea-dinner, and 
 go to Mr. Long's lecture, and then returned to 
 night duty from lo p.m. till lo A.M., as usual ; 
 took a long walk to see W. before she went to 
 her new post, and returned very much heated 
 by the close relaxing day. At dinner Sister .... 
 told me that Mrs. W. had left a message ior 
 me, that I was off night duty, and was to go to 
 the male medical ward next morning. Mrs. 
 P.'s answer had not come, so I could not ask 
 
 s 2
 
 26o HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 leave for Barnet, but felt sure the next post 
 v>ould bring it. I thought it so lazy to go to 
 bed then, when I was to have it at night, so 
 v/ent off and paid some visits. All were out of 
 town, so I began to think of some amusement ; 
 went to the Polytechnic, and saw ' Cinderella ' 
 in dissolving views ; an innocent spree, was it 
 not ? I laughed at myself afterwards about it ; 
 returned so tired, found I^Irs. P.'s note, but was 
 too weary to think of much but bed that night, 
 and came here this morning, receiving such a 
 warm welcome, and now am going for a walk 
 with Mrs. P. Am I not your happy Agnes ?" 
 
 A da later she writes again : " I cannot tell 
 you of all my enjoyment, sitting in this elegant 
 drawing-room, now in among the plants in the 
 window, looking out at the grass plats and 
 hyacinth-beds ; now in my cosy bedroom, with 
 the opening Banksia buds peeping in, and the 
 view of the church and fields beyond ; now 
 walking over the fields to dive into Hadley 
 Wood, and revel among its beauties, the bud- 
 ding shrubs and beds of violets, sorrel and 
 primroses beneath them. Now the vistas of
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 261 
 
 green spots and cattle feeding ; now the birds 
 singing ; now the woodman's axe, everything 
 bringing before me new yet familiar associations, 
 and the warm, bright sun, so like summer : I 
 feel more like a gay glad child than ever in my 
 life before. I am so amused sometimes at some 
 such common things seeming so pleasant ; last 
 night getting into bed to feel soft fine sheets; I 
 never thought befjre what coarse ones I have 
 lately been sleeping in. But I cannot tell you 
 the delight of Mrs. P.'s morning and evening 
 kiss, it makes me think of mother, — my own 
 darling mother. Oh ! how good God is, crown- 
 ing me with these His loving-kindnesses, giving 
 me to find favour. Morning prayer, and a daily 
 prayer-meeting are such privileges. I return 
 by this evening's train, after a most enjoyable 
 visit. I have had a great deal of quiet time to 
 myself, but less talk than I hoped with Mr. and 
 Mrs. P., who are very busy ; but I have much 
 enjoyed the atmosphere, mental and spiritual, 
 so hope to return benefited in mind and body, 
 and with new vigour, energy, and devotion to 
 work. Yesterday I was at Mrs. P.'s delightful
 
 262 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 Bible-class, of which I shall send you notes. I 
 had a Sunday school class in the morning, and 
 on Saturday one at the Rescue House, and 
 have just spent nearly two hours at the Mission 
 Home, being questioned about details of dea- 
 coness work and training, for the benefit of its 
 inmates, and in their presence. I have been 
 lazy about letter writing since I came here, 
 spending nearly all my time out of doors. I 
 came for rest and air, and have conscientiously 
 taken both, and so enjoyed myself, but am glad 
 to return to my happy work." 
 
 The following letter seems to refer to a later 
 visit to Barnet, in July : — 
 
 ** I have arranged to go to Barnet this day 
 week, from Monday till Monday, so I shall have 
 a rest before and after the Conference. It is 
 really next best to going home ; when that 
 comes near, I think I shall be almost crazy 
 with delight. In the end, I beheve the holiday 
 will be no lost time, but enable me to return to 
 my work with more vigour. My work, I more 
 and more feel it, for the worst things only make 
 me realize how Christian and really good nurses
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 263 
 
 are needed ; and as to my nerve, I never knew 
 I had so much. I don't say that I don't feel, 
 but I go from the wards to my meals or bed, 
 saying, I must eat or sleep, and so I do most 
 obediently. With the heat, too, I often feel 
 God thinks of me, for we never have more than 
 two or three days and nights together very 
 oppressive." 
 
 *' May igth, 1863. — I do not agree with you, 
 that I should be more tied were I at the head 
 of an institution ; I could then have you and J. 
 to stay with me, as well as be able to pay you 
 short visits ; however I do not want to make 
 any plan further than this ; in October to go 
 home for two or three months, and then re- 
 turn to England for a year more of nursing, — 
 my last Enghsh sojourn I hope, as Ireland is 
 ever my bourn. But I should lose much did I 
 not take another year at what you would call the 
 drudgery of nursing, not superintending others, 
 but myself doing it. I feel now as if I were 
 just beginning to learn, to see a little what I 
 ought to observe, and how I can begin to un- 
 derstand. It is just like a school-girl, whose
 
 264 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 first year teaches little more than her deficien- 
 cies, the second is one of progress. Besides, 
 I do not say immediately after my second year, 
 but I am sure God must have some work for 
 me in which to use what I am now learning ; 
 I am so grow^ingly happy in it, and so fond 
 of my work. W. came to see us on Sunday, 
 and was in great delight to be once more at 
 the Bible-class." 
 
 This Bible-class Agnes had begun soon after 
 her arrival at the hospital for the other 
 Nightingale nurses, with Mrs. Wardroper's 
 permission ; it was a great interest to her, 
 and she had reason to believe it was blessed 
 to the souls of several of its members. A 
 day or two after leaving the hospital she thus 
 alludes to it in a letter: — 
 
 *' I had a most painful and yet gratifying 
 parting, many tears on all sides, and even 
 from some of whom I did not expect it. I 
 believe all were sincerely sorry, but best of 
 all was the general testimony to how much 
 they should miss the Bible-class ; it was such 
 a help, how could they do without it ? How
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 265 
 
 good God has been to me ! The year has 
 flown, and has been such a happy one." 
 
 During the spring she wrote to a young 
 friend in Ireland, to whom she was sincerely 
 attached : — 
 
 " My dearest C, — Tt is so very long since 
 I have heard anything of you, that I must 
 write to let you know you are not forgotten. 
 You are probably ignorant of my present posi- 
 tion, so I must introduce myself as Nightin- 
 gale probationer in a large London hospital, 
 in plainer words, learning to be a nurse ; not 
 yet one, but ' serving my time.' There is such 
 a field of usefulness in such a sphere. I only 
 wonder more ladies do not enter upon it ; the 
 difficulties are great, strength and health and 
 active habits and courage are indispensable, 
 but the influence for good one may have is 
 what can more than com.pensate for the com- 
 paratively small trials. I never was happier, 
 and all who see me say, ' Well, you have 
 found your vocation.' Even Mrs. R., who was 
 rather inclined to be jealous of my leaving 
 Bible women for hospital work, admits this,
 
 266 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 and through her I can keep up my interest 
 in my former, and still much-loved, work. I 
 trust and believe I am a Bible woman as well 
 as a nurse, and I can sometimes see fruit 
 which shows me God is blessing me here. 
 My heart is ever in Ireland, where I hope 
 ultimately to work ; but I think thorough train- 
 ing for a special sphere of work more than 
 doubles one's future power, and in a low as 
 well as a high position one meets those to 
 whom God may enable one to be useful. He 
 gives work when He gives the will to do it. 
 I often think dear, dear C, of that confirma- 
 tion day, when we knelt together to dedicate 
 ourselves to our Saviour. When we look back 
 all those years, what an amount of neglected 
 duties and lost opportunities, and yet what 
 mercies one recalls ; what tokens of a heavenly 
 Father's love and guiding providence ! I some- 
 times hear indistinct accounts of your active 
 useful life, but should like to know more of 
 your schools, etc. from yourself. ... I had 
 nearly three months at Fahan before coming 
 here, but as all my old love of it remains, a
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 267 
 
 visit is almost more painful than total absence. 
 It is hard to say how far it can ever again be 
 home to me, so many things have made this 
 work so plainly my work, that I have to realize 
 that it is probably to be my lifework. As every 
 past step has been made plain, I can trust that 
 the future will be so also. Home, position, 
 society, and the refinements of life are plea- 
 sures, but where one has work, they are not 
 necessaries. Perhaps later, I may be able to 
 combine them more than at present. Excuse 
 such a hasty note, and believe me, ever your 
 attached friend, A. E. Jones." 
 
 "St. Thomas's, ^yjn7 24th, 1863. 
 
 " My dearest Aunt, — Day after day I hope 
 and wish to answer your letter, but it is easy to 
 intend. One of our nurses is ill and I have a 
 little extra duty, which I am glad of, as it is 
 real practice, but one half-hour less time, one 
 runs after all day and never overtakes. I 
 come up to read prayers, too, now, which I am 
 glad to do, as I can make more hear than the 
 other nurse can. I am now the oldest proba-
 
 268 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 tioner here, and from this, and also having 
 gradually crept on to it, they all look to me 
 for little helps — now to correct spelling, now to 
 show them how to keep their books, and other 
 information, and sometimes for advice and 
 sympathy. Then my Bible-class needs much 
 careful preparation, so that all my time down- 
 stairs is too much occupied for letters ; and 
 in the wards, as sure as one sits down, the cry 
 of ' nurse ' calls you from your book, or paper, 
 or thoughts. I have had two pleasant letters 
 from probationers who have felt grateful for my 
 kindness, and all who have attended it have 
 so thanked me for the Bible-class; indeed, it 
 has been a most bright spot to me, and such an 
 interest during the week preparing for it and 
 holding it, that not only personally has it been 
 a great delight, but God has given me also to 
 know that it has been more or less useful to 
 four, and decidedly blessed to one . . . When I 
 feel how far short I am of what I ought to 
 be, I fear to mar what God has begun ; I do 
 not think He will allow real harm to be done, 
 but one may hinder, raise difficulties and
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 269 
 
 doubts in the minds of those beginning the 
 race, when they see persons they fancy advanced 
 in the Christian course, so weak and incon- 
 sistent as I am." . . . 
 
 As the year at St. Thomas's Hospital drew 
 to a close, an opening for further work pre- 
 sented itself to her; she heard of ja. Kaisers- 
 werth deaconess being at the deaconess insti- 
 tution in Burton Crescent, and went to call 
 on her, thinking it might be one she had known 
 during her visit to Germany. She found that 
 she had come over to assist the English sisters 
 in adding the care of a hospital to their other 
 occupations, but that she was on the point of 
 returning home, and the heads of the institu- 
 tion in Burton Crescent were seeking some one 
 to replace her. A few days later the chaplain 
 called at St. Thomas's Hospital, and asked 
 Agnes if she would come and help them ; this, 
 after some deliberation, she agreed to do. Alter 
 a very short visit at home during the month 
 of October, she returned to LonJon and com- 
 menced her duties as superintendent of the 
 small hospital in Bolsover Street. Later, the
 
 270 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 Great Northern Hospital was substituted for 
 this one. During her stay there she kept no 
 journal, and a few letters are the only record 
 of this period. 
 
 " Novemler ^th, 1863. 
 
 ** Dearbst Aunt, — I had a comfortable and 
 unadventurous journey, with pleasant remem- 
 brances of the kindness of friends. I only dare 
 look forward, recollecting past help and rely- 
 ing on ' Ebenezer.' I am so sorry my visit 
 to you was not more quiet, yet it is very 
 pleasant to be able to picture your work and 
 present home. I have reason for apologies 
 innumerable. To-day I took up my Bible to 
 read Hebrews iii., and found words which came, 
 indeed, home to present need, and which will, 
 I trust, be my motto here : * Consider the 
 Apostle and High Priest of our profession, 
 even Jesus, Who was faithful to Him that 
 called Him.' Oh, may I never forget God's 
 message to me to-day, * Consider Jesus,' and 
 may I, like Him, forget all else and be faithful 
 to my God. May He enable me, — alone, I
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 271 
 
 cannot. And if I have difficulties, and if I be 
 lonely, and if there be little warmth or sym- 
 pathy, Jesus knows, and He will be as He 
 has been ^ friendly.' I can only look forward 
 in the strength of, ' Hitherto hath the Lord 
 helped me,' and ' The Lord will provide,' and 
 may I never forget the connection between, 
 'Casting all j^our care upon Him, for He 
 careth for you,' with ^And the peace of God 
 shall keep ^^our hearts,' " etc. Private paper 
 
 of same date : " Just had a talk with ; I 
 
 htl the stiffness and coldness, the rule mea- 
 sure of everything, the warning against things 
 which I should never be led to do, showing 
 such ignorance of my motives and character 
 that the words seem to jar; but how can a 
 stranger know me? Lord, Thou knowest ; 
 keep me, too, from hard thoughts of a stranger. 
 Lord, be Thou near, for trouble is near, lone- 
 liness is near. Of course it will be better 
 soon, for I shall be at home with my work 
 and interests, and now I shall get again into 
 the way of no warm loving prayerful kiss from 
 mother, sister, or friend. The bitterness is
 
 272 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 past, but the impression remains of that home 
 parting, — that breaking of ties which seemed 
 the work of my last visit to Fahan. As I re- 
 arranged my cabinet of collections, as I walked 
 on the roads, or visited the cottages, a voice 
 seemed to say, you are bidding these old in- 
 terests and occupations farewell for ever. The 
 voice was as a sword, and I could only send 
 up a cry that if God saw fit to bid me re- 
 nounce all, He would be to me my all. I 
 dare not think of that last morning ; must 
 not others have thought me cold ? Yet I felt 
 it was almost an eternal farewell to Fahan, 
 a final and deliberate renouncing of home, a 
 going forth, indeed, on a way I knew not. I 
 dared not think almost, dared not cry, and 
 could only occupy myself with the present 
 and meet the future with ' Lord help me.' J. 
 says I brought sunshine home, which seemed 
 to vanish when I left it ; yes, I was happy, 
 and yet there were times of agony. Mother, 
 sister, home, when ever so dear ? I never felt 
 what a life home-life was before ; the contrast 
 with the other, and yet that other was very
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 273 
 
 happy, and so I will only think of this and 
 thank my God, Who has hitherto helped, and 
 believe He, Who changes not, will surely con- 
 tinue to do so. How blessed His name of Un- 
 changeable, amid all life's changes ! and how 
 especially a name for me to lean on, who have 
 so many varying positions and circumstances ! 
 Another support is, the assurance of so many 
 prayers being offered up for me to Him Who is 
 so ready to help. ' My God shall supply all 
 your need according to His riches ;' the great- 
 ness of the need is only balanced against the 
 riches of the supplier ; He is pledged never to 
 leave me, and so I can tell Satan not to mar 
 my trust in His loving care.'' 
 
 ** November gth. 
 
 " My dearest Aunt, — You will almost 
 wonder I have not written sooner, but one does 
 not think much beyond the present on first 
 arriving to new duties. I think everything 
 promises wxll except that I shall have little 
 to do at first, but, perhaps, it will be easier to 
 do that little, well ; if I am not tempted to 
 
 T
 
 274 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 idle over it. Everything is so new to me ; the 
 contrast between rich and poor hospitals is 
 indescribable. I am learning my own defects 
 but hope to be able to correct these, partly by 
 my own endeavours, and partly by circum- 
 stances ; however, I certainly am fortunate in 
 beginning on a small scale, inefficient as I am, 
 and I feel as if I had been brought here. 
 I was at church yesterday evening ; T^Ir. C. 
 preached a good but rather deep sermon on that 
 beautiful text, Phil. iii. 21 ; on the whole I was 
 disappointed ; though the sermon gave some 
 new thoughts on the resurrection of the body, 
 there was not much practical, but the text was 
 a sermon in itself, and the 'Who is able?* 
 seemed the Sabbath message to me." 
 
 . . . *' I seem to have little to do and yet 
 not much spare time. I have just had a busy 
 day and night with a poor little burnt child 
 who died. Burns are such an anxious charge ; 
 they go off so suddenly, they never can be left. 
 I suppose I shall not have my regular helpers 
 until we move, and I wish the time would
 
 HOSPITAL TRAININCx. 275 
 
 come. . • . I trub. I am gaining a quiet influ- 
 ence with my patients ; they are my great 
 pleasure. I have more tedious than very se- 
 vere cases at present, but any moment acci- 
 dents may come in," 
 
 *^ December f 1863. 
 
 " Dearest Aunt, — Your letter, my only one 
 on Christmas morning, was a great pleasure ; 
 my home one came the night before. ... I 
 am not very busy in one way, but having the 
 w^hole responsibility, and being the only nurse, 
 am kept always occupied with my seven pa- 
 tients, though we have no very serious cases 
 at present. ... I was to have had a holiday, 
 and hoped for a day at Barnet, but this is now 
 out of the question. We had a very pretty 
 little Christmas-tree, which gave great plea- 
 sure. I am able to go to Mr. C.'s every Sun- 
 day; I like his preaching, on the whole. Last 
 Sunday he preached, as a motive to holiness, 
 the view that believers' sins would be remem- 
 bered in the day of judgment, as well as those 
 of the wicked, not to condemn but to humble 
 
 T 2
 
 276 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 them. I had just been taking such pleasure 
 in comparing texts in connection with the 
 scapegoat on which I had given a Bible lesson, 
 
 * As far as the east is from the west, so far 
 hath He removed our transgressions from us.' 
 
 * The sin of Judah shall be sought for and shall 
 not be found.' ' I have cast all thy sins behind 
 my back, into the depths of the sea.' * I have 
 blotted out,' etc., all these expressions seem to 
 teach the contrary. . . . T had a kind note 
 from Barnet, wanting me to go for the New 
 Year prayer-meetings, but I cannot be spared 
 from my post, and I know if it were good for 
 me, the way would have been opened." 
 
 ''New Year's Day. — We went last night to 
 Mr. C.'s service, beginning at 10.30 ending 
 12.15 A.M., but the sermon was not very prac- 
 tical, and rather distracting than keeping one's 
 mind on the beautiful subject, ' Looking for the 
 mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ for eternal life.' 
 I am very happy among my patients, and 
 often feel God has sent me here ; I have two 
 revival patients ; one had found peace before 
 she came, the other is seeking it, and to both I
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 277 
 
 can talk. Then I have a poor woman with 
 cancer, who likes me to speak of Jesus, Whom 
 I believe she truly loves ; so you see I am not 
 without work. Two operation cases have much 
 occupied me, as I have all the nursing to do at 
 present, so few patients making it unnecessary 
 to have more assistance than a servant can 
 give. We are soon, however, to move to the 
 larger hospital. I should often like to study 
 the subjects of Mr. C.'s sermons, but I have 
 not time for more than seeking daily food for 
 myself and my patients in my reading mo- 
 ments." 
 
 The next letter seems to have been written 
 after the large sphere of work on which she 
 next entered had been proposed to her and ac- 
 cepted, and this letter is the last we have from 
 London, though she remained there for some 
 months afterwards. 
 
 ** Gkeat Northern Hospital, March 12, 1864. 
 
 *' Dearest Aunt E., — You will think it 
 strange I have not written sooner, but I can 
 scarcely find time for all the letters which must
 
 278 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 go about this Liverpool business, of which I 
 can scarcely think. I can only feel about it. 
 I could not refuse ; it seemed so decided for 
 me, all doubt removed, so that my only real 
 excuse was, my utter incapacity. Now, I can 
 "^only think of the whole in connection with 
 Jeremiah i., and feel that the same unchange- 
 able God and ever living Jesus must speak so 
 to me, as I believe I only seek to obey His 
 call. From no one point can I see any fitness 
 in myself; I can only say it is God's work, 
 and He must do it. He can work by my in- 
 efficiency for success or failure, whichever He 
 intends as the result. My patients keep me 
 very busy, but I am glad of the work, though 
 I should be glad to think more. However, 
 the thought is as yet so overwhelming I can 
 only meet it in the one way — the w^ay was plain ; 
 I neither sought nor could I refuse the call. Mrs. 
 Wardroper paid me a long kind visit on Thurs- 
 day ; it is so pleasant, she is going to give me 
 some of my fellow-probationers ; and does it 
 not indeed seem, as I can see all my life long, 
 that God has guided every step. May one follow
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 279 
 
 the other in His own order, on which looking 
 back I can see the plan and design. The very 
 probationers I attached to myself, and whom I 
 believe God led more or less to Himself by my 
 Bible-class at St. Thomas's are those Mrs. W. 
 offers me . . . Ought I not to trust for the future 
 when the present is so lightened by the kindness 
 of friends ? Will you tell Miss Mason all ? My 
 poor little boy of seven, whose leg was ampu- 
 tated on Wednesday, requires much care, day 
 and night, though he is doing beautifully ; an- 
 other operation case, and ten more orless anxious 
 medical ones, but what are these to the proposed 
 six hundred or a thousand patients ? Oh ! I trust 
 my friends will pray much for me, that my heart 
 and my life may be more and more wholly 
 His who has now called me. I wish you would 
 ask dearest Miss M., Mr. H.— M., and A. S. to 
 ask God to prepare my heart for this all-im- 
 portant post of such extended influence for good 
 or evil, and that He will make me more realize 
 that He is my Saviour and T His child, for 
 whom He has promised help and strength. If 
 my own heart were only strong in Him, f
 
 28o HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 should not fear ; what I am afraid of, is the be- 
 ginning at the wrong end with, — ' Here am I, 
 send me,' before He has sent live coal to touch 
 my lips. 
 
 *' Your own loving Agnes.'* 
 
 The last few months at the Great Northern 
 Hospital tried her much, physically and men- 
 tally; for the first time she had the burden of 
 responsibility, which, to her sensitive and con- 
 scientious spirit, was no light one ; the number 
 of patients under her charge was small, but the 
 assistants she had were without experience in 
 sick nursing, and on her, consequently, de- 
 volved much of the care and attendance. One 
 peculiarly critical case she could trust no one 
 to watch but herself, and for six weeks was 
 seldom absent from the patient, night or day ; 
 this, with the heat of the weather, soon told on 
 her health ; she became pale and thin, and a 
 slight deafness, from which she first suffered 
 while at Kaiserswerth, increased to such a de- 
 gree that she consulted Miss Nightingale as to 
 whether it should not be a sufficient reason for
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 2S1 
 
 her at once declining the great work in Liver- 
 pool, which was at this time offered to her. 
 Miss N. advised her to have an aurist's opinion 
 as to the cause of the deafness, and Mr. Tony- 
 bee declared it to arise entirely from nervous 
 debility, caused by over-work. He prescribed 
 immediate and perfect rest ; but it was not 
 possible for her to give up the hospital, of 
 which she had undertaken the charge, until a 
 successor had been found, and the long delay 
 in finding a suitable person, kept her in London 
 until the middle of August. When she arrived 
 at Fahan, we were frightened at her state of 
 prostration, physical and mental. Instead of 
 hastening, the morning after her arrival, to 
 visit her favourite spots, to gather flowers in 
 the garden, and luxuriate in the lovely scenes 
 around, she seemed only able to lie on the 
 sofa, and listen to our conversation, though 
 even this her deafness prevented her fully en- 
 joying. A week passed, and as rest and jun- 
 try air seemed insufficient to restore her, my 
 mother proposed taking her to Port Ballintray, 
 a quiet little village near the Giant's Cause-
 
 282 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 way, where the Atlantic breezes might brace 
 her nerves, and sea-bathing restore her wonted 
 energy. This plan proved successful, and in a 
 few weeks we returned home, feeling that she 
 was her old self again, though the deafness 
 continued most trying to her. She remained 
 with us all winter, and early in spring left for 
 Liverpool, where a sphere of labour had been 
 opened to her, which must be described in the 
 next chapter. 
 
 During the winter she wrote to my aunt : — 
 *' I do not like this irregular do-less life, but 
 I don't mend matters by doing the little I have 
 to do, and then there is a kind of dread of get- 
 ting much into home-work or interests. Every- 
 thing is so strangely familiar, I can often 
 scarcely believe my long absence. And yet 
 there are many changes, in some ways I am 
 changed myself; I could be very happy here 
 again. I believe I was really useful here ; when 
 I look back, I know that several, now in heaven, 
 God used me to lead there ; yet no one year 
 here had as marked results as last year had. 
 I do not, however, think it would be always
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 283 
 
 good for me to know how much I have done ; 
 I always feel that behind the good there has 
 been a contrary influence. At the same time, 
 I think people overrate the self-denial I have 
 to practise. Routine has great charms for me, 
 and I can always be happy when busy ; and, 
 oh, if I could ever tell how my Heavenly 
 Father daily, hourly, remembers His child ! It 
 is so wonderful and marvellous. One of the 
 sisters, who used to like me to talk to her, 
 said when I was leaving, * You will be happy 
 wherever you go ; I never knew before I knew 
 you how God's peace keeps those who trust in 
 Him.' Many said to me, * You are always 
 happy.* But no words can tell how God helped 
 me. I never was troubled, but He sent some- 
 thing to cheer me. He hath been mindful of 
 us ; He will bless us. As in the past, so daily 
 will He teach us more. I am sure eternity 
 will be too short for all the praise we owe ; and 
 the more we need, the more He takes care to 
 give. His measure is our need. As thy day 
 shall thy strength be." 
 
 Well vvas it for the loving heart that such
 
 284 HOSPITAL TRAINING. 
 
 sure confidence was hers ; that she could feel 
 certain every step was wisely and lovingly or- 
 dered ; even now her feet were entering on a 
 path in which every fibre of her sensitive spirit 
 was to vibrate with pain — a path of trial so 
 subtle that its histor}^ is fully known only to 
 Him who sees the tears of His children, and 
 marks their every sigh. Never again were the 
 old familiar hills to be trodden by her — the 
 cottage homes to be visited — the ferns and 
 flowers to be sought in the wooded glen ; she 
 was bidding all a last farewell now, and her 
 return would be, three short years hence, when 
 loving hands would bear her coffin through the 
 churchyard-gates, and lay her down to rest in 
 her father's grave.
 
 CHAPTER FT. 
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 ** With light in her looks, she entered the chambers of sickness , • • 
 , . . Many a languid head, upraised as she entered, 
 
 Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her 
 presence 
 Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison. 
 And as she looked around, she saw how death, the consoler, 
 
 Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it for ever." 
 
 IN the present day of active benevolence and 
 prompt investigation of wrong, all classes 
 of the poor, oppressed, and sinful, seem to be 
 brought under the eye of the public, and as- 
 sistance, solace, and (as far as may be) remedy, 
 are provided ; not, indeed, in any degree equal 
 to the demand, for as riches increase and luxu- 
 ries become more and more necessaries of life, 
 so in proportion does poverty increase and 
 wretchedness and woe superabound. Of all 
 misery in the mass, however, no department 
 was so long overlooked as the misery of work-
 
 286 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 house paupers. Jails have long been visited 
 and reformed, so that the cry is rather of the 
 over-pampering than of the neglect of the cri- 
 minal that has been overtaken by justice ; lu- 
 natic asylums have opened their long-closed 
 doors to official inspectors, and the deeds of 
 oppression and cruelty they once witnessed are 
 now tales of the past ; factory children have 
 found their pleader, and the long hours of toil 
 have been shortened; but who could say a 
 word for the poor in workhouses ? It needed 
 the revelations of the Strand union, and of the 
 casual ward in Lambeth workhouse, and other 
 strange stories heard now and then, but too soon 
 forgotten, to arouse the general public to in- 
 vestigate the wrong that might possibly be 
 found even in an institution, with paid offi- 
 cials, watched over by a comm.ittee. But be- 
 fore the widespread interest had been awakened 
 in the public mind, one actively benevolent in- 
 dividual, whose large heart seems to take in 
 every need, and at once to suggest and work 
 out a remedy, took thought of the sick poor 
 in workhouse hospitals and inquired into their
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 2S7 
 
 condition. I believe that in the Liverpool work- 
 house hospital, things were better managed 
 than in many similar institutions ; an active 
 governor and efficient committee prevented any 
 wholesale starvation or cruelty, but no general 
 inspection can secure against individual oppres- 
 sion where the eld system of pauper nursing 
 prevails. Mr. \V. Rathbone proposed at once 
 to substitute for these ignorant and worse than 
 useless women, trained paid nurses, and nobly 
 undertook to bear all the expense connected 
 with the experim.ent for three years, by which 
 time he believed the success of the scheme 
 would have recommended it to the Board of 
 Guardians, and it would be adopted as the 
 permanent system. As soon as he obtained 
 the consent of the committee, he wrote to my 
 sister, who was then, in the spring of 1864, at 
 the Great Northern Hospital, asking her to 
 undertake the post of lady superintendent of 
 the proposed trained nurses. After much cor- 
 respondence with Miss Nightingale and Mrs. 
 "Wardroper on the subject, she agreed to this 
 proposal. The plan could not, however, be
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 commenced for several months ; many altera- 
 tions were necessary to secure proper accom- 
 modation for the staff, and the nurses them- 
 selves had to be found. Miss Nightingale, who 
 entered most warmly into the project, arranged 
 that twelve of the Nightingale nurses trained 
 at St. Thomas's Hospital should be sent to 
 Livei*pool, but the education of some was not 
 complete, and others were in various positions 
 from which they could not be recalled without 
 some months' notice. Besides, Agnes was quite 
 unable to enter on any work without a long 
 rest, and Mr. Toynbee had given it as his opi- 
 nion, that unless she had immediate and entire 
 rest for some months, her deafness would be- 
 come incurable. The experiment was, there- 
 fore, to be postponed until the spring of 1865, 
 but in the preceding August, Agnes was re- 
 quested to go to Liverpool to meet the com- 
 mittee, and give her opinion on various debated 
 points relative to the arrangements to be made 
 for her staff. She wrote to my aunt, ''As to 
 home, it seems as if I had so much to do first, 
 I cannot realize it as near; and if the questions
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 2S9 
 
 brought up for consideration in Liverpool are 
 very important, I must return at once to 
 London to see Miss Nightingale and Mrs. 
 Wardroper. It is very formidable this going 
 alone, but I cannot try to meet any part of the 
 work in my own strength. The more I think 
 and know of it, the more I feel my own inca- 
 pacity. And now all who love me must pray 
 that I may have wisdom given me for it.** 
 
 It had been first arranged that during her 
 visit to Liverpool, Agnes should be the guest of 
 Mr. J. W. Cropper, at Dingle Bank, but just 
 before she left London, she received a letter in- 
 timating that apartments in the workhouse 
 would be placed at her disposal. At first this 
 change of arrangements tried her much, and a 
 letter written under its influence indicates great 
 depression at the idea of finding her wa}^, 
 ** friendless and alone in the strange place." 
 Before long, however, she saw many advan- 
 tages in the plan, which had, indeed, been 
 prompted by the kindest feeling; it had been 
 suggested that she would appear before the 
 committee with a more free and unbiassed opi- 
 
 u
 
 290 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 nion if she was independent of any one member 
 of the board, and the wisdom of this decision 
 was recognized by her at once. The kindness 
 and support she received from Mr. Cropper and 
 all his family, she used to speak of with the 
 warmest gratitude ; almost her only hours of 
 recreation were those she spent in company 
 with her devoted friend Miss Gilpin, in their 
 country home and its lovely pleasure-grounds, 
 w^here she often found relaxation and cheer 
 when heavy cares and arduous labours had de- 
 pressed and saddened her. 
 
 After the lonely journey from London, Liver- 
 pool is reached at last, and she drives from the 
 station to the workhouse ; the large black gates 
 are opened, but the porters hesitate to admit 
 her ; the name and business must be reported 
 at the gate, and then a man is sent to con- 
 duct her to the governor's house ; after a long 
 business-interview he takes her to her rooms, 
 the same she is eventually to occupy — ground- 
 floor rooms, looking out on a small court and 
 low wall ; beyond this the fever hospital. With- 
 in, all is dingy enough : horsehair sofa and
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 291 
 
 chairs, tables and stool, no ornament of any- 
 kind, while the dark colour of walls and wain- 
 scoting gives a look of gloom to the whole ; yet 
 Agnes's heart is undaunted, and she goes with 
 the governor to visit the proposed nurses' rooms 
 and some of the wards. Of these latter she says, 
 *' The beds are rather close together and the 
 wards low, but all appeared fairly ventilated. 
 There seemed care for the patients, too ; a few 
 plants and flowers, ' Illustrated News ' pictures 
 on the walls, and a ' silent comforter ' in each 
 ward, not the utterly desolate look one often 
 meets in such places." 
 
 That night, as she sat alone in those dreary- 
 rooms, she could write, " I feel at this moment 
 completely at home here, and the nervous fear 
 I had in looking forward to all, seems to have 
 left me. * Sufficient unto the day is the evil 
 thereof.' " Next day she writes, " I went to 
 bed very happy, and with a kind of feeling that 
 I had indeed adopted the work ; whatever 
 doubts I might have had before, seeing the 
 place has made me feel I shall love it and b& 
 of use, I trust, if God blesses and helps me, to 
 
 U 2i
 
 292 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 some of those poor lonely ones. I have to 
 thank God for present help, and so little nervous- 
 ness or timidity ; I must ask Him to be with 
 me hourly, enabling me to undertake all and to 
 meet all, as for Him and in His sight." 
 
 A sleepless night and severe headache left 
 her somewhat less brave in the morning, and 
 a long delay in the arrival of the committee 
 did not tend to brace her nerves. " I was 
 awaiting them when Mrs. Cropper, sen., and 
 Mrs. J. Brougham came in, bringing a basket 
 of lovely flowers all arranged in a glass, and 
 only needing water ; it gave such a homelike 
 look to my room, and the kind thoughtfulness 
 of the gift made me feel again the good hand 
 of my God upon me. They soon left, and I 
 had a long time to wait, so I sat down to 
 read; the Bible alone could have engrossed my 
 mind, so ready to dwell on the nervous dread 
 of the next hour." 
 
 The ordeal was passed, and no small weight 
 removed from her mind by getting the first in- 
 terview over; two days longer she remained, 
 so as to become periectly acquainted with the
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 293 
 
 proposed arrangements and suggest a few alte- 
 rations. One passage more in the very detailed 
 entry in her journal kept during this week, I 
 must give, lest any should imagine that she 
 was fascinated by the greatness of the under- 
 taking and overlooked its trials : — 
 
 " Mr. C. hoped to-day that all did not seem 
 too coiilejir de rose. Does it ? Have I not again 
 and again asked myself, Shall I ever be able to 
 meet the dreariness, the loneliness, the difficul- 
 ties, jealousies, restraint, disappointments, iso- 
 lation? In my own strength, no, never. And yet, 
 when I look back, I see how God has helped 
 me, how in the darkest moment a something has 
 come, sent by that loving Father — a little word, 
 a letter, flowers, a something which has cheered 
 me and told not only of the human love, but of 
 that watchful heavenly Friend Who knew His 
 weak child's need, and answered her repining or 
 fearing thought by a message of mercy which 
 bade her trust and not be afraid. He cart and 
 He will, I do not say, give success, that may 
 not be His way, but if all fail to human eyes, 
 if I do nothing, He will look with pity on His
 
 294 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 child, and say, ' She has done what she could.' 
 May no fear of man hinder me in His work, 
 but may He so give wisdom and prudence as 
 to keep me in the middle path in ' His cause- 
 way,' with a single eye to His glory, and then 
 I shall not turn aside to the right or to the 
 left. ... I have many things to think of and 
 plan. I fear the nurses having too much lei- 
 sure ; I know they cannot rightly employ it as 
 a rule. Perhaps, with uneducated minds, too 
 little is worse than too much work : responsi- 
 bility, too, weighs less on them. I am so glad 
 I have been in the house ; in everything I can 
 now more realize my future position and its 
 difficulties. But I have, as never before, a 
 consciousness of power to bring sunshine to 
 those poor creatures, as if I could, with God's 
 blessing, make a little ray of hope and com- 
 fort sometimes enter their sad hearts." 
 
 Eight months later she returned to Liver- 
 pool, to enter on her new sphere of labour. 
 The trial of this last separation from us all was 
 much increased by our mother's health being 
 less strong than formerly, and from her journals
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 295 
 
 we can see that Agnes had much debating with 
 herself as to the duty of remaining at home, 
 and renouncing hospital work. After much 
 prayer for guidance, and calm weighing of the 
 subject, she decided on pursuing the course 
 she had entered upon, and in which already 
 she had been made the instrument of so much 
 blessing. An allusion to this struggle in her 
 own mind is found in a later paper : — 
 
 " Often these doubts and questionings arise 
 as to whether this apparent cill to hospital 
 work be not a delusion, yet there seems a word 
 even for that, now that I have entered on it. 
 Jeremiah xxiii. 21, * I have not sent these pro- 
 phets, yet they ran ' . . . verse 22, * But if they 
 had stood in my counsel, and had caused my 
 people to hear my words, then they should have 
 turned them from their evil way, and from the 
 evil of their doings.' Oh, what a hope ! even if 
 that first step were wrong, there is hope of for- 
 giveness and promised blessing, if I be faithful. 
 Thou, Lord, alone canst make and help me." 
 
 Below this is a note, added a year later. 
 May, 1866 :—
 
 296 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 *' Hitherto hath the Lord helped me : He 
 hath led me by a wonderful way, and given 
 such power to work, that I cannot say I did 
 wrong to come." 
 
 To my aunt she writes soon after her arrival 
 in Liverpool : — 
 
 ** Your letter this morning was a great com- 
 fort and stirrer up. Oh, how I have asked not 
 to be allowed to forget God in this work ! I 
 cannot write all my doubts and fears and diffi- 
 culties. I can only look at Moses and Joshua, 
 and how they were helped when sent to so 
 great a work, and say to myself, over and over 
 again, * Only be thou strong, and very coura- 
 geous, for the Lord thy God is with thee,' and 
 I try not to fear, but to meet everything as it 
 comes. No one can conceive how cut off I 
 shall be from any human help in many w^ays ; 
 so many important steps must be taken alone 
 with God, if He gives wisdom." 
 
 In order to brighten up her rooms, and give 
 a homelike comfort and elegance to them, Mr. 
 and Mrs. Rathbone, sen., Mr. and Mrs. W. 
 Rathbone, and some members of Mr. Cropper's
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 297 
 
 family filled them with various articles of furni- 
 ture, w^hich acquired more and more value in 
 her eyes as her personal feeling of regard and 
 friendship for the generous donors increased 
 with longer acquaintance. At first she was 
 almost overwhelmed by such unexpected, and, 
 as she thought, undeserved gifts. In writing 
 to tell us of them, she says, "I felt half inclined 
 to cry when Mr. R. enumerated the presents, 
 all so handsome and useful. I was so humbled 
 I could have sunk into the earth. I suppose 
 the feeling is partly pride, the extreme dislike 
 and sensitiveness I have to any obligation ; but 
 all this makes me feel as if people expected so 
 much of me, this repaying beforehand of what I 
 am expected to be and to do, and to which I 
 may never attain. Supposing, what is quite 
 possible, I turn out incapable of conducting the 
 scheme, and have to be replaced, not for any 
 fault, but merely for want of the necessary 
 governing and organizing power, I shall feel 
 like the originator of the South Sea bubble, for 
 allowing people to be deluded by false expecta- 
 tions. I should equally dislike any future testi-
 
 298 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 menial, but I could bear it more patiently had 
 I been at work and done something. When 
 anything goes wrong, I shall look round on my 
 furniture as if each thing were an accusing 
 ghost." 
 
 No materials exist, either in letters or memo- 
 randa, which will enable me to give a history 
 of the work which Agnes attempted and accom- 
 plished in the Liverpool workhouse. Her life 
 there was too busy a one to allow time for 
 much writing, and her home-letters dwelt on 
 the little details which she knew would interest 
 us, and give no idea of the greatness of her 
 undertaking, or her plan of operation. The 
 hope, therefore, entertained by those who origi- 
 nally suggested the idea of this memoir, that 
 some history of the results of her work, some 
 suggestions as to the way in which it was 
 conducted, some idea of the general organiza- 
 tion might be obtained, which would serve as a 
 help to others treading in the same path, must 
 be renounced. That she had thought over the 
 subject, and formed very decided opinions as to 
 the relative merits of different organizations
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 299 
 
 and administrations, we know, but she never 
 had time to express these on paper ; her letters 
 and her diary, both hastily written, (for time 
 was very precious during those three last years,) 
 give no idea of the immense work she orga- 
 nized, or of her practical ability and great 
 business powers. It has even been thought 
 and suggested, by one for whose opinion I have 
 great respect, that the deficiency which must 
 arise because of this, is a reason why this 
 memoir should not be published, and that it 
 will tend to " lower the vague but yet high 
 appreciation which does exist in the minds of 
 many as to what she accomplished in the 
 Liverpool workhouse." I trust that the exist- 
 ence of her work, recognized by all who take 
 an interest in the subject of workhouse-nursing, 
 will obviate this danger. The memoir has been 
 compiled, not for the benefit of poor-law boards 
 and boards of guardians, but for Christian 
 women, who, reading the story of her consistent 
 walk in paths of no ordinary difficulty, and 
 moved by the example of unwavering devotion 
 to her heavenly Master's work, may go and do 
 lik(;\vibe.
 
 300 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. * 
 
 One of my aunts wrote, about this time, to 
 ask Mr. Falloon to call on her, knowing how 
 she would value his visits. Agnes writes in 
 reply : — 
 
 *' I am so grateful to you for having written 
 to Mr. F., as I had been longing to see him, 
 but did not know how to introduce myself, or 
 let him hear of me. The fewer visitors I have 
 the better, but I want one or two choice ones 
 to help me in the best way, and if he will kindly 
 sometimes think of me, it will be a great privi- 
 lege. I now spend about three hours daily 
 going my rounds of the wards, which does not 
 give long to each ; and as I have not yet 
 assumed the reins, I cannot do anything, not 
 even sit down to read to a patient, but I get a 
 few words to most, and I think already many 
 look for me. There is so much that is very 
 sad which one realizes more when inactive 
 in the way of remedy, but, I hope, we shall be 
 able to lessen many evils in time ; slowly and 
 gradually it must be. I hear few complaints, 
 and I have very few requests, these chiefly for 
 pap^r and stamps to write to friends, and I
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 30I 
 
 receive many respectful nods from my country- 
 men. There is one very large ward entirely 
 Roman Catholic, and on my first visit, I had so 
 many questions to answer, * Are you a Catholic ?' 
 etc. etc., as no other visitors are admitted. I 
 see many, in various directions, reading their 
 Bibles, and have met several who seem indeed 
 to rejoice in them. One dear bright little child 
 especially, who is one mass of sores, always 
 looks so happy, and his large eyes dance with 
 delight as he repeats hymns, etc. He speaks 
 so imperfectly that I cannot ask him much, 
 indeed my deafness makes me lose a good deal. 
 There are many poor blacks here ; one has died 
 since I came; severe colds are so fatal to them. 
 One man from Manilla is dying, and only one 
 of the patients can understand his language. 
 There are many idiots and old people in their 
 dotage ; one keeps a birch rod under his pillow 
 which he daily presents to me, with a long 
 speech ; others cry, if spoken to kindly. I feel 
 daily more and more glad of the work in pro- 
 spect; it is such a field of usefulness, if God only 
 bless us in it, and I feel sure He will do so. Few
 
 302 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 have had such a very happy hfe as I have, and 
 it is happier every year. Now mother's health 
 is an anxiety, but I try to feel the keepings both 
 for her and me, while we are absent from each 
 other, and yet it is such a blessing to feel I have 
 such a loving mother, even far away. 
 
 April i8th, 1865. 
 
 " Isaiah xlii. 16. 
 " I know not the way I am going, 
 
 But well do I know my Guide ; 
 With a child-like trust I give my hand 
 
 To the mighty Friend by my side. 
 The only thing that I say to Him 
 As he takes it, is, * Hold it fast, 
 Suffer me not to lose my way, 
 And bring me home at last.* 
 
 " As when some helpless wanderer, 
 
 Alone in an unknown land, 
 Tells the guide his destined place of rest. 
 
 And leaves all else in his hand : 
 *Tis home, 'tis home that we wish to reach. 
 
 He Who guides us may choose the way ; 
 Little we heed the path we take, 
 
 If nearer home each day." 
 
 ** I am learning this hymn, it seems so suit- 
 able to me. To-day in one ward lay a poor 
 black man ; the dews of death were on his face,
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 303 
 
 and his poor parched lips and gasping breath 
 told the same tale. Oh ! how I longed to go 
 and nurse him. I was able to say a few words 
 to him of Jesus. He said he was so weak, but 
 I told how Jesus could tell the secret of the 
 heart, and accept the weakest longing. Oh ! 
 the loneliness of these sick-beds. Oh ! the 
 many, many wants. How we shall need strength 
 and hope and faith in God ! Then the thought 
 which every one repeats, that * nobody ever 
 comes into a place like this but by their own 
 fault,' meaning idleness or sin. A hospital is 
 sad enough, but a workhouse ! It almost seems 
 as if over so many of those beds * no hope ' 
 must be written with reference to this world. 
 Friendless, hopeless. If in this life only ye 
 have hope, ye are of all men most miserable. 
 How we shall need the love of Christ to con- 
 strain us in our work, to be as He would have 
 us be with those poor sufterers, not as man 
 would have us ! To-day I was only in the 
 medical wards. A Frenchman, who does not 
 speak English, much enjoyed a talk. He so 
 brightened up and made me such a French
 
 304 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE, 
 
 salute as I moved on. I gave him paper for 
 writing, and he seemed quite joyous with the 
 thought of the answer. An ItaHan was much 
 cheered by my telHng him I knew Naples well. 
 Oh ! if God gives me power to bring a little 
 brightness to some, what a blessing it will be ! 
 I had some talk with a man who seemed to 
 feel his need of Jesus, and yet was confused 
 about the way. I gave him two thoughts, ' Be- 
 hold the Lamb of God which taketh away the 
 sin of the world,' and * Jesus died for me.' I 
 was rather horror-struck to hear that a police- 
 man goes every night through the wards to 
 keep order. The feeling remained of the class 
 of insubordinates one would have to control. 
 How earnestly I desire they may be the better 
 of our coming here ! Six hundred patients de- 
 pendent for comfort on me and my staff ! ' I 
 will lift up mine eyes unto the hills.' * Our 
 eyes wait upon Thee, O Lord.' " 
 
 "May yd, — Yesterday I was in bed all day 
 with a heavy cold. No one but Mary c^me 
 near me all day, but she was most attentive. 
 At times I realized the isolation of my position.
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 305 
 
 Yet the great Friend is ever near, nothing can 
 separate from Him. Strength seems, more given 
 me to leave off looking at the work as a great 
 whole, at the issue expected and hoped for — 
 success in the eyes of man, — and I see more 
 daily of the benefit we cannot help being to 
 individuals in many little things. I trust that 
 He Who of such little things says, ' done unto 
 Me,' will accept them ; and if it be His will, 
 build these little single bricks up into a vast 
 edifice, of which He will be the foundation and 
 top-stone, and all to His honour and glory, and 
 for the good of the thousands who, from these 
 sad, sad workhouses, cry day and night to Him. 
 And thus He can give us success, and will it 
 not come more surely than if I carry that bur- 
 den of care ? How will men see this ? How 
 will it succeed as a whole ? Shall I not go on 
 far more joyfully if I receive from Him the 
 daily little joys of these small comforts to many 
 single sufferers, thanking Him for being enabled 
 to do a little, and yet in His strength doing all 
 lean?" 
 
 During this interval of waiting for the begin-
 
 306 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 ning of her work — for the trained nurses had 
 not yet arrived — Agnes wrote the following 
 letter to Mrs. Pennefather, which is interesting, 
 as giving her views with regard to sisterhoods, 
 a subject so widely discussed in the present 
 day, and involving a question of such vital 
 importance to unemployed and lonely women. 
 It must be remembered, however, that she is 
 not here planning a new institution, but recom- 
 mending the modification of one already esta- 
 blished. She, therefore, touches on one or two 
 points only in the existing arrangements where 
 she thought alteration might be beneficial. 
 
 "Liverpool Workhouse, Mot/ ijth, 1865. 
 
 " Dearest Mrs. Pennefather, — I sit down 
 to answer yours at once, as I have time now 
 which I may not have again for weeks : We have 
 not yet begun. I have been living here nearly 
 a month, but have weekly to put off my staff, 
 their rooms not being ready. We hope de- 
 cidedly to begin on the i6th. I go daily to the 
 wards to see the poor patients, and am on the 
 spot when wanted about arrangements ; this,
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 307 
 
 and preparing a lending library, is the extent 
 of my work at present. I do not feel the time 
 lost. I feel quite at home here now, and am 
 pretty much so in the wards, though not able 
 to do anything, not being in office yet. It 
 is more trying work, however, than if I felt 
 something were doing. I see so much that 
 needs a remedy, and can only sometimes give a 
 little hint how to make a sufferer easier, or do 
 it myself. But the scenes of various kinds, 
 and the many deaths, are very sad, and I feel 
 very much the absolute prohibition to say a 
 word to the Roman Catholics. My question 
 about the separate wards for Protestants and 
 Roman Catholics, has been decided for me. 
 One of the guardians, whom I asked, thought 
 it would involve endless difficulties. Thank 
 you so much for wishing to help me in it. 
 I look often to you ; on many points it seems 
 as if I could ask no one else, and your letters 
 always help me so much, if only by their sym- 
 pathy. It often seems strange that T, who 
 have so little self-reliance, and would like every 
 step directed, am obliged to take such an inde- 
 
 X 2
 
 308 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 pendent position ; and yet I have been so led on 
 that I could not help it, and I only trust I may 
 be more and more led to look to the guidance of 
 the Ever-present and All-wise Heavenly Friend. 
 But perhaps to no one are letters such a boon. 
 So cut off from personal intercourse with my 
 dearest friends, I cling to their letters, and 
 often a letter has been God's messenger to 
 bring me brightness when all seemed dark and 
 trying. I have so often to thank Him for let- 
 ters coming just when needed* To any one here 
 I must be very reserved about my work and 
 difficulties, even had I any one who could enter 
 into the work heartily so as to understand, but 
 a great deal of mischief might be done by re- 
 peating what I said. I did not sit down to 
 write about self, however, but about Deaconess 
 work. I feel more and more anxious that 
 you and dear Mr. Pennefather should see an 
 opening for your having some training-school 
 for Christian w^omen of all ranks. Many cir- 
 cumstances make me increasingly feel the ne- 
 cessity of some such institution. I believe there 
 are many women of all ages longing for work,
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 3C9 
 
 who cannot from position or character seek it 
 for themselves. Many need guidance and di- 
 rection : all want training and help. I know 
 
 at many came to seek it, and of those 
 
 who remained, some felt much that while they 
 found work and certain help, they did not find 
 heart-teaching and help heavenward. I believe 
 in other High Church sisterhoods there are 
 many such, and yet where can earnest women 
 go ? There is no Evangelical home : your 
 name would attract many. There could be no 
 suspicion as to the religious party. I had some 
 
 talk with the other day. He thinks the 
 
 way the Deaconess work will best take root in 
 England, is from some one centre institution, 
 which will train workers and send them out. 
 I agree with him that many separate institu- 
 tions are just battling the question over and 
 over again without result, and the fruit of one 
 where the question had been practically worked 
 out, would be the best answer to prejudice. 
 
 But I do not agree with him that is fitted 
 
 to be that head. I believe the head oi such an 
 institution must be more decided than he is (as
 
 3IO LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 appears to me) in religious views. I believe no 
 untried worker, however earnest, w^ould do, and 
 no one whose religious character is not of the 
 highest stamp. One who is firm in his reli- 
 gious views, and yet not narrow-minded in any- 
 thing, wath cultivated and practical mind and 
 unlimited power of sympathy. But while there 
 must be a certain liberty of opinion in rriinor 
 points, I cannot ever think too * liberal ' a head 
 will do. This seems to me so often the expression 
 for those who have not made up their own minds, 
 and therefore cannot certainly direct those of 
 others. But what I feel so much is, how many 
 there are who want some place where they can 
 get teaching for their own hearts and souls, train- 
 ing for and direction in work for others, sympa- 
 thy in that work and their difficulties in it, and 
 a home where in their leisure hours they may 
 have more or less association with others. I 
 believe many older people want this as a home, 
 and many younger, who would go for a time 
 for training, which they are anxious to have 
 for work near home. I have learnt two things 
 which make me most anxious about this.
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 311 
 
 Learning from real workers helps one very 
 much, but not before one knows the work. 
 When you have tried and felt your weak points, 
 and when you are working and dail}- meet diffi- 
 culties, then a few words with some sympa- 
 thizing worker are a great help, and sometimes 
 throw a new light on the whole subject. Many 
 want their powers drawn out ; they feel a power 
 they fear to try, and require advice and di- 
 rection. 
 
 ^' But there is another and a \ery strong point 
 — the shrinking many have from coming for- 
 ward even in good works. I think this needs 
 to be carefully dealt with, there is such mis- 
 chief in any combating it. I believe that feel- 
 ing is a great safeguard, if only kept in its place. 
 Association of workers will help to do this, and 
 so will working under direction ; but, as I know 
 painfully, no one can tell what a woman ex- 
 poses herself to who acts independently. I 
 never would advise any one to do as I have 
 done, and yet I can feel I have been led on 
 step by step, almost unwillingly, certainly not 
 as I should have chosen, had I not seemed
 
 312 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 guided, and I believe have been, and so kept. 
 But there is much one shrinks from, and 
 while often much to humble, yet a great deal 
 to puff up, much to which a member of a body 
 would not be exposed. When one seeks train- 
 ing in other than a Christian home, there is in 
 public institutions so much to keep back, and 
 so little to foster spiritual growth. To learn to 
 work in any way, one must now in England go 
 where there is no teaching, no help outwardly ; 
 cut off from every human teacher and /riend, 
 and the want of every refinement in surround- 
 ings, and of every source of knowledge of even 
 the good going on in the world around. All 
 this makes one^s own world so narrow, that in 
 spite of deep interest in the work, there are 
 times when one either feels alone, or as if very 
 self-denying. It makes a cause for trial which 
 takes another form in a community, but is not 
 the same. The temptations in communities 
 are to jealousy and envy, and yet perhaps one 
 more feels both one's own power and what 
 one lacks, than in independent work ; but I 
 do not think there is the same daily and hourly
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 313 
 
 difficulty about what is one's duty and work, 
 which many shrink from and meet by doing no- 
 thing. Those who persevere learn in the school of 
 mistakes, — an invaluable school, but slow train- 
 ing. All these things you know far better than I; 
 but as I daily and hourly feel them, I long for 
 a more ' royal road ' for many ardent and weak 
 ones, many who for years perhaps are kept back 
 from doing anything ; many who die without 
 ever going beyond the wish to do something. 
 I know parents whose young people want work 
 for God, who would gladly send them some- 
 where for a time to be trained ; I know grown- 
 up women, not far advanced in Christian life, 
 who would Hke to do a little under direction ; 
 and I know some who have gone, almost 
 against their principles, into sisterhoods be- 
 cause they cannot get what they want else- 
 where. Surely all these want help. I ahvays 
 so feel you cjuld give it, if the way were 
 opened. I do not know what you think of dea- 
 conesses. I think the reality might be had 
 without the dress or name. The difficulty is 
 the real submission of will there must be. I
 
 314 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 believe this is the valuable part of the training. 
 It is hard to get it, but I believe it could be 
 given to a really superior head : this makes it so 
 needful, that the character of that head should 
 be in every way above those governed. I be- 
 lieve all I owe to Kaiserswerth was comprised 
 in the lesson of unquestioning obedience. I 
 tried to do everything I was desired, no matter 
 how impossible it seemed, and found often less 
 difficulty than I anticipated ; or if I did not 
 succeed, the pastor's lesson on the failure, its 
 cause, etc., was most valuable. I am sure I 
 should never have obeyed this call, if I had not 
 begun at Kaiserswerth ; and so I believe many 
 characters might be moulded in many w^ays ; 
 not, perhaps, for years of work under your in- 
 stitution, but for work in their various homes 
 and neighbourhoods. My idea, as you ask it, 
 is not to begin with a sisterhood, but a home 
 for ladies who must submit to certain rules and 
 government. ... I used to think people could 
 work on for ever; now I am sure a certain 
 amount of quiet and recreation is needed, and 
 makes one work better with less strain. I
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 315 
 
 think, with very slight variation, your present 
 system would suit ; and then, if after a time 
 any wished to devote themselves more en- 
 tirely, the question of deaconesses would arise. 
 In your large parish you could have a great 
 variety of work ; more distinct nursing, or other 
 training, would come later. My idea of begin- 
 ning is more the work any lady might have in 
 her own neighbourhood on her return home 
 after a time with you. I really must apologize 
 for this letter. I have written on, often inter- 
 rupted, and forgetting \>hat I had said, and so 
 it has grown. My only excuse must be my 
 deep feeling of longing for more labourers, and 
 wiser and better ones. I so deeply feel how 
 few get training for that work which, of all work, 
 needs it. I often think of Dorothea Trudel's 
 last prayer for and with me, ' that I might be a 
 polished stone, fit for the Master's use.' He 
 must polish and use us, but I believe He uses 
 means of fitting, and wills us to use them as 
 given. How many unhewn stones there are 
 which seem to need but a little fashioning, and 
 shall we offer to Him that which costs us no-
 
 3l6 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 thing? It is such an honour to he used by 
 Him, — should we not seek it, not to add to our 
 own crown, but His ? It seems a new hope that 
 something will be done for training workers, 
 which I so often long and pray for. I shall 
 always be so glad to hear of anything being 
 attempted. Pray for me, dearest friend, as I 
 do often for you, and with deepest gratitude 
 for your love and sympathy. 
 
 ** Ever yours, most affectionately, 
 
 ** Agnes E. Jones." 
 
 In a letter to my aunt of the same date, she 
 writes : — 
 
 " I am much amused at everyone endeavour- 
 ing to impress me with the magnitude of the 
 undertaking, as if I had not rather to struggle 
 against the realization. I am trying and suc- 
 ceeding more and more in fixing my eyes on 
 all the little things we shall be able to do. I 
 believe in this is our safety, doing the daily 
 littles as opportunity is given, and leaving the 
 issue with God. It is the individual influence 
 we shall have, the individual relief and the in-
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 317 
 
 dividual help for mind and body, that will be 
 ours. If it is His will, He can make others 
 see the many littles as one great whole, or they 
 may see nothing done, while we have the com- 
 fort of the littles we know have been done. I 
 always feel any work seems more trying to out- 
 siders than it really is. We can talk of our 
 trials, but all the little helps that so comfort 
 us, and come as sunbeams, however transitory, 
 just when we need them, these we only keep 
 as our own, and go back on them in memory 
 when clouds are thickening again. These help 
 me now when I look forward. I know God will 
 send what is needed. Some lovely flowers have 
 come from Greenbank, just when I was think- 
 ing I must throw out those I brought from 
 New Brighton ; so even this want is met al- 
 most before felt. Certainly, it is wonderful 
 how God cares for me in the least thing." 
 
 And now at last all was ready, and the day 
 arrived on which the nurses were expected. 
 An anxious one it must have been to her, and 
 not without its special trials. She had been 
 very careful not to lend any tracts or leaflets
 
 3l8 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 in the wards, as she felt that to begin with 
 what might be objected to before her position 
 was established, would be unwise ; but -a friend 
 had given her some books and magazines for 
 distribution among the patients, and she had 
 gladly carried out the wishes of the kind giver. 
 This morning of the i6th May, however, it was 
 intimated to her that she must lend books 
 henceforth only through the chaplain. The 
 order fell chillingly on her eager desire to give 
 some new pleasure and interest to the poor 
 lonely ones in their hours of dreary sickness, 
 but of course she had no choice but to submit. 
 The party of nurses arrived from London a few 
 hours later, twelve Nightingale nurses and seven 
 probationers. The next afternoon the work 
 began in earnest. One of the great difficulties 
 of the first year arose from the character of 
 the ex-pauper women who were brought into 
 the hospital from the other departments of the 
 workhouse, to be trained under the nurses. 
 Rough, coarse women they were, and appa- 
 rently incapable of receiving instruction ; be- 
 sides, their habits of intemperance led them
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 319 
 
 astray whenever the slightest liberty was al- 
 lowed ; SO at last, after some months of uphill 
 work and continual disappointment, the plan 
 had to be given up. On the 22nd May Agnes 
 wrote home : — • 
 
 " We are getting on delightfully so far, and I 
 am very well, and scarcely tired, though I have 
 had and have heav}^ head and leg-work, which 
 will, however, get lighter every day. I have no 
 time for letters or for reading, — ^just one verse 
 at night. That on Friday, our first day, was 
 'SO appropriate (Nehemiah ix. 21), ' Yea, forty 
 years did Thou sustain them in the wilderness, 
 so that they lacked nothing ; their clothes waxed 
 not old, and their feet swelled not.' I was at 
 the moment wondering how well my poor feet 
 felt after about fifty ascents of seventy stairs, 
 which I had had in the hours of placing my 
 staff; each set to be put separately into their 
 charge, and I had to run up and down with 
 each. I arranged for them to come up in 
 parties ; but brainless people make such stupid 
 mistakes, I found in the end I had to come 
 down myself. The whole thing seems now
 
 320 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 really manageable to what I expected. Clouds 
 are rising, but as ' Hitherto ' the Lord will 
 help. Mrs. R., whom I met at Barnet, called 
 to-day, chiefly to tell me she had heard from a 
 poor woman in her district how nicely her hus- 
 band was getting on here, and how comfort- 
 able everything was since the London nurses 
 came. Our poor little boys, too, are so happy, 
 before, they were often maltreated by the at- 
 tendants." 
 
 ** June ^th, — I had a very pleasant Bible-class 
 yesterday afternoon for my nurses, delightful to 
 me, if not to them. To-day I had a visit from 
 a Roman Catholic lady, who was very cordial ; 
 she said she so rejoiced in our work, and wished 
 us every blessing. She is a lady visitor here, I 
 find." 
 
 " June 22nd. — I sent half of my party to-day 
 to New Brighton — the invalids and night nurses; 
 they enjoy it much, and it does them all good. 
 The submission of the patients now is most 
 amusing. If I give a lecture in a ward for dis- 
 order of any kind, I soon get a message they 
 are * So sorry they upset the Lady Superin-
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 321 
 
 tendent;' and with medicines, dressings, etc., 
 they ma}' rebel, but if * the Lady says so,' 
 they submit at once. I have not to be sum- 
 moned so often as before, the threat is enough ; 
 and yet patients, as well as nurses, feel they can 
 have redress of any grievance by an appeal to 
 me. I had such a grateful message from the 
 poor infirm, for getting them good bread. I 
 am so sorry to be able to do so little, but 
 they are surprised at my being early and late 
 among them." 
 
 Her day was, indeed, no idle one. At 5.30 
 A.M. she went in her dressing-gown to unlock 
 the doors for the kitchen-women. At 6 she rang 
 the bell for the nurses and probationers ; at 6.30 
 all assembled for prayers in the nurses' sitting- 
 room. At 7 the breakfast began. Often she 
 made a round of the wards at 6 ; and if there 
 was any anxious case, she would be up two or 
 three times in the night. After " a race round 
 the wards to see that all the breakfasts are cor- 
 rect," she came to her own at the head of the 
 table, where nurses, probationers, assistants 
 and scourers were seated. At 7.30 she gave the 
 
 Y
 
 322 LIVERPOOL AVORKHOUSE. 
 
 orders for the day, and then made another 
 round of the wards. Then giving out stores 
 occupied her till the first dinner began at 12. 
 She was always present herself, carved for the 
 nurses and probationers, and dined with them. 
 When we wrote to remonstrate with her for 
 not having rest and quiet even at her meals, 
 she answered that the moral influence of her 
 presence in such a mixed community, she con- 
 sidered not the least important part of her 
 day's work. Besides, she felt there was much 
 for the superior nurses to bear, on first coming 
 to a workhouse hospital, where the class of 
 patients was much lower than those they had 
 been accustomed to ; and she wished, wherever 
 it was possible, by sharing their labours and 
 identifying herself with their life, to help them 
 through the trials and difficulties of their new 
 position. Occasional visits to individual pa- 
 tients, giving out stores, and attending to calls 
 innumerable, occupied the afternoon. After 
 presiding at tea at 4, she returned to the 
 wards, to see how the dressing was done. And 
 here her practical knowledge of nursing-work
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 323 
 
 enabled her to direct the nurses and teach the 
 probationers, and gave her weight with both, 
 which was invaluable to her authority.' At 9 
 o'clock the night nurses went on duty, and she 
 visited the wards to see that each was at her 
 post. Prayers were at 9.30, after which the 
 day nurses went to bed ; but another round of 
 the wards was still before Agnes, and it was 
 generally after 11 before she could go to her 
 own room, and feel she might lie down to rest 
 with her work for the day done. There was a 
 great deal of illness among her nurses during the 
 first year, fever and small-pox ; and the anxiety 
 about these cases pressed often painfully upon 
 her. The responsibility, too, attached to so 
 vast an undertaking, at times weighed down 
 her spirits ; the depressing influence of a work- 
 house in its outward, and still more in its 
 moral aspect, the isolation from friends and re- 
 latives, and all the pleasures and comforts of 
 social life, and besides all this, difficulties in 
 the work itself, and opposition and trial from 
 some who might have been expected to uphold 
 her authority and strengthen her hands. It is 
 
 Y 2
 
 324 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 wonderful to see how brightly, as a rule, she 
 looks upon the work ; at times, indeed, we find 
 expressions in journal and letter indicating ex- 
 treme depression ; but this was as much phy- 
 sical as mental ; and as they occur more fre- 
 quently in the third year of her labours in 
 Liverpool, we may well believe that they may 
 be generally, if not always, traced to over- 
 fatigue of mind and body. In the end of Oc- 
 tober, 1865, my mother and I spent a few days 
 in Liverpool on our return from the Continent. 
 As we drove through the gloomy gates and up 
 the narrow road between high walls which led 
 to her apartments, the contrast to her sweet 
 country home, with its lovely scenes and pure 
 mountain breezes, and all that had been such 
 a delight to her, struck us painfully ; but once 
 in her rooms, where she greeted us with a face 
 more radiant than ever, it was impossible to 
 look at her and pity her. She was the pic- 
 ture of happiness, and evidently delighted in 
 her work, finding pleasure in every proof, how- 
 ever small, that through her or her staff, more 
 of physical, as well as moral and spiritual good,
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 325 
 
 had been brought to those under her care. 
 Early in the summer she began Sunday even- 
 ing readings in one of the wards where there 
 were none but Protestants. She could not be 
 ignorant that Roman Catholics did attend ; but 
 as they came uninvited, she did not consider 
 herself called upon to exclude them. This 
 class she continued to the end. I shall never 
 forget the one at which I was present. We 
 came into the ward where about twenty pa- 
 tients were in bed, a few minutes before the 
 appointed hour. Agnes passed at once to her 
 seat at the top of the room, and sat quietly 
 reading her Bible until the clock struck. In 
 the meantime the room had filled ; on each bed 
 men were seated closely packed together, others 
 standing by the wall or grouped around, and 
 there they stood in almost painful silence until 
 the end. I never saw more attentive listeners. 
 She began with a shoit prayer ; then read part 
 of a chapter, on which she commented in very 
 simple but striking words, closing with a prac- 
 tical application and earnest personal appeal to 
 the hearts of all present. After reading a hymn
 
 326 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 she again prayed, and so ended the class. As 
 we left the room, the respectful demeanour of 
 the men struck me very much ; and during the 
 reading I saw one or two who came in late, 
 had taken off their shoes lest they should dis- 
 turb her. She had also every Sunday a Bible- 
 class for her nurses ; the notes of her prepara- 
 tion for both these show great care and thought. 
 Nov. loth she writes : — " We are feeling the 
 approach of winter, for our wards are filling 
 fast. On Wednesday I went out to Dingle 
 Bank at 5, and drove in with the C.'s to Mr. 
 Birrell's lecture, where I met my nurses and 
 returned with them. We had a beautiful ser- 
 mon on the fruits of the Spirit, and last night 
 Mr. Lockhart's address was most helpful on 
 being * rooted in Christ.' I do not know when 
 I so enjoyed two lectures ; sent, I am sure, to 
 make up to me for my Sunday, which seemed 
 lost. I had a bad headache, and could not get 
 out in the evening, the only service where I 
 can hear. I had eighty at my Bible-class, but 
 it was all I was equal to for the afternoon. 
 We are very busy, having more people than
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 327 
 
 room. I had forty children under twelve sent 
 in to me one day, and we had to clear a large 
 ward for them ; but they are over-crowded, 
 twenty-two being the licensed number for the 
 room. You can fancy the nests of them, two 
 beds being put together, and two children at 
 the head and two at the foot. The children 
 have only sore eyes, and you may imagine the 
 spirits and noise of a healthy set of forty boys. 
 However, they are very good considering all 
 things, and I have provided slates and books 
 to amuse them. When I appear there is a ge- 
 neral cry of, ' Please lady !* They now know 
 they must obey ; as one morning, finding they 
 w^ould not keep quiet till 7 o'clock, I kept back 
 their breakfast till ten ; but even when only 
 quietly talking, the noise of forty tongues is 
 great.'' 
 
 A few days later : — 
 
 " I have now sixty children under twelve, so 
 I have turned them into an empty ward. You 
 should hear the singing and rejoicing; after 
 many days in their beds, such excitement at 
 getting up."
 
 328 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 " I am almost distracted between sickness 
 and anxiety and drunkenness. I have one 
 head nurse in great danger, and much anxiety 
 about her sister, who is with her, and almost 
 worn out with sorrow and w^atching. Then 
 these ex-pauper women whom we are training, 
 were paid their wages on Friday, and the next 
 day five came in tipsy. It is so disappointing ; 
 some who had done well for six months, and 
 of whom I had hopes. How little I can do ! 
 yet the hewers of wood and drawers of water 
 had an office in the v^-ork of the sanctuary, and 
 so, perhaps, may I." 
 
 In the midst of all this pressure Christmas 
 came, and Agnes found time and leisure to de- 
 vise and arrange some little treat for all, nurses 
 and patients. It was one of the characteristics 
 of her work that she never overlooked the in- 
 dividual in the communit}^, but cared for the 
 pleasure of each, as if they stood alone. She 
 had great faith in the softening influence of 
 happiness, and her tender heart went out in 
 active sympathy for those who, immured for 
 life in those hospital wards, had ceased to ex-
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 329 
 
 pect that brightness or gladness could ever 
 come to them. One of her nurses writes of 
 her: — "She was so thoughtful of our comfort 
 in every way. If flowers were brought to her, 
 she would be sure to supply us before she 
 thought of herself, fond of flowers as she was. 
 Every Saturday she went round every ward, and 
 took suitable books for the patients to have to 
 read on Sunday. I often think how closely she 
 followed her Saviour in leaving her home, where 
 she might have had so many comforts, and yet 
 she left it to associate with the poorest and lowest 
 of mankind. I feel it was the greatest honour 
 the Lord could have conferred on me, when He 
 led my steps towards her. It was my happy 
 lot to receive from her my first lesson in nurs- 
 ing at St. Thomas's Hospital, and I shall never 
 forget her kindness to me then. She seemed 
 to have sympathy for every one, especially for 
 those she knew had just left their homes. 
 When we came to Liverpool, we did not ex- 
 pect to find her as we had found her at St. 
 Thomas's, although we had a very great desire 
 to live with her, feeling sure we should be with
 
 330 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 a just person and a Christian ; but we soon 
 found we had not half known her before. You 
 know we entered here amid great difficulty, 
 but with her help and love we were able to 
 surmount it all. Before she took us into the 
 wards, she commended us all to God in prayer, 
 and besought His blessing and help in the 
 work. That was the secret of her success in 
 everything. She took all to Jesus, and always 
 exhorted us to do the same. During the first 
 year, when the staff was smaller, she made a 
 practice of visiting our rooms every Saturday 
 and Sunday evening after prayers, for the pur- 
 pose of speaking to us about Jesus. If she had 
 had occasion to scold us in the week, she was 
 sure to remember it, and w^ould say, * Do not 
 think I donH love you because I scold you ; if 
 I did not love you so much, I should not take 
 that trouble with you.' She never would allow 
 the smallest fault to go unreproved. If ever 
 she made a mistake (she would not have been 
 human had she not done so sometimes), she 
 would come and beg our pardon, as if we had 
 been over her, instead of her over us. It has
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 33I 
 
 often surprised me, the thought she had for 
 all. There seemed not one forgotten. If there 
 were several of us sick, she would go into 
 the wards as usual and be busy with her work, 
 but she would not forget to keep running 
 down to see if the invalids were having all they 
 required. Often, if she had nurses on duty she 
 did not think quite up to their work, she would 
 get up and go through the wards several times 
 in the night. She was so anxious always to 
 bear burdens for us. I have often told her 
 that I believed we were a hindrance to her ; 
 for instead of holding up her hands, we were 
 hanging on her, and bearing her down. She 
 was so fond of bearing our troubles for us, as 
 far as it was possible, and I think she fell under 
 the burden of them. If she had brought us a 
 letter in the morning, and saw us afterwards 
 looking sad, she would take hold of our hand 
 so affectionately, and say, ' I hope you have 
 not had bad news, child.' If she thought one 
 looked ill, she would say, ' You are not well,' 
 or, ' You look tired, child.' If we went to her 
 in trouble, we could not come away from her
 
 332 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 with the same feeling we went in with ; she 
 would always take the opportunity of pointing 
 us to the Burden-bearer. Often, when I have 
 gone to her with any complaint, or something 
 I have told her I could not do^ she would say, 
 * Have you told Jesus so ?' There lay the 
 secret of all her love and care and thoughtful- 
 ness. She never thought she had made a sa- 
 crifice in coming here, as she said she had never 
 been so happy in her life. I feel it will be the 
 greatest honour the Lord can confer on me, if 
 He permits me to finish my course in the work 
 she loved so well. I fear I often err by being 
 impatient to wait the time till I shall see her 
 again." 
 
 1866 dawned amid new anxieties, but the 
 trusting heart ever turned to the never-failing 
 source of strength and comfort. A few extracts 
 from her journal will show how she delighted 
 to trace God's loving hand in the little plea- 
 sures which now^ and then came to cheer dark 
 and lonely days. Her delight in flowers was 
 very great, and many times did she learn a 
 lesson from these silent preachers. The kind
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. ;^:^;^ 
 
 friends who from time to time sent the trea- 
 sures of their gardens and greenhouses to 
 brighten her rooms, will find in the day when 
 a cup of cold water, given to one of Christ's 
 little ones, is remembered, that they shall in 
 nowise lose their reward. To a friend who 
 was very dear and very helpful to her, she 
 writes : — 
 
 ''Your lovely flowers have been telling me 
 all evening that God is love, and that He loves 
 me. They have been His messenger and yours. 
 They seem almost too pure and lovely for earth, 
 and yet they will fade, but He is unchangeable. 
 This is such comfort. I could not tell you what 
 
 ''s death has been to me, and I scarcely 
 
 knew how rebellious I was against Him till my 
 flowers told me. They began, ' He careth for 
 you,' and taught me the rest of the \'erse. I 
 could not have borne even from you the flowers' 
 soothing and sympathy, for I could not tell you 
 all. It seemed to me at times yesterday as if 
 He were blowing upon my work, but now I 
 think it is not mine, but His. If He blow 
 upon my part of it, He will keep His own, and
 
 334 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 He put me here. The Psalm last night at 
 prayers was indeed for me, — Psalm xxvii. I 
 have not learned all my flov\^ers' lesson yet ; 
 but when I am busy, I think of them as dear 
 friends waiting in my room to help me." 
 
 Again : — " I have had such delight in some 
 mosses and fungi Mrs. James Cropper sent me 
 from Kendal in a little box by post ; they are 
 so like m^y own mountains, as well as so lovely 
 in themselves. I wish I could show you my 
 saucer of beauties ; you never saw a more per- 
 fect little collection to lie on half this sheet of 
 paper : the leaf moss, the cup moss, a few 
 fronds of tiny fern, and some bright fungi ; so 
 exquisite, you could fancy yourself alone on the 
 mountain-top with them. I have had some 
 very great trials as well as pleasures lately, 
 but I was trying to balance to-day, and I am 
 sure the latter preponderate. Clouds and sun- 
 shine so alternate in my life, that 3'ou could 
 scarcely sympathize wdth one before a change 
 comes. I have now more than a hundred at 
 my Sunday class, and really if I lift my eyes, 
 their earnest looks and fixed gaze almost over-
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 335 
 
 come me. It is a great responsibility. I was 
 SO amused at the old men the other day call- 
 ing themselves my children. Many of the pa- 
 tients look on me as a kind of house-surgeon. 
 I go to see and direct the dressings with the 
 worst cases, and sometimes do the thing my- 
 self to show how. The other day a man asked 
 me to come every day and dress his foot ; it 
 had been ' so much better since I had been at 
 it.' I have a reading for the probationers every 
 week on medical subjects, but it is a great 
 anxiety to me to think how little they know as 
 yet. This morning I have been much with a 
 poor d3'ing thief v/ho is in the agonies of lock- 
 jaw. He seems to try to pray, and to like me 
 to speak to him. I think he would tell me his 
 history if he could ; but speaking is difficult, 
 and the paroxysms come so frequently, ^^'e 
 have all great enjoyment in the Thursday even- 
 ing lectures at Hope Hall. Mr. Lockhart 
 is so earnest and simple. On Good Friday I 
 read aloud in the evening to the men in one 
 of the wards, and they seemed to enjoy it so 
 much, that I promised them an hour every
 
 336 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 Friday evening at six. Last Sunday I gave 
 them a lecture on swearing, taking Psalm 139, 
 and dwelling on the verse, * Thine enemies 
 take Thy name in vain.' Upwards of one hun- 
 dred were present, and most attentive." 
 March 31st she wrote to my aunt ; — 
 " Dearest Aunt. — This day last year I ar- 
 rived in Liverpool. I cannot believe it ; time 
 has flown and yet much has happened. The re- 
 view is one of a varied kind. I have not done all 
 I hoped, and yet my brightest visions of earthly 
 success have been more than realized. While 
 I have done little for God, He has made my 
 way prosperous. It has been a wonderfully 
 smooth way, when I consider all there was to 
 contend against. But how much I might have 
 done, how much I intended to do, and never 
 even attempted, is known only to God. I be- 
 lieve there is ground for my justly claiming 
 man's approval, but how very differently would 
 a report be drawn up for God's work here ! 
 Even our outward work is not all it ought to 
 be ; but, as I said before, there is much cause 
 for thankfulness. There is a wide field for use-
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 337 
 
 fulness and need for sympathy around me ; in 
 this respect the castles built last year are in 
 ruins now. The materials still lie scattered 
 around, save what has mouldered away while 
 awaiting the worker. I am sure I ought to 
 make more time for the only lasting work. 
 Sunday work is all that consecrates and re- 
 deems my work from being wholly worldly. I 
 often wonder if you will see me changed when 
 you come — an old mother with nearly six hun- 
 dred children. How many to present to the 
 Giver ? Only one that I know of . . . 
 
 ** Your own loving 
 
 " Agnes." 
 
 ** May 2nd. — The last fortnight every care 
 has been lessened by the thought of a week 
 with mother and J. in Dublin. It has seemed 
 to me a lesson of what the Christian's hope 
 ought to be — powerful in making all present 
 trial light." 
 
 " May 8lh, 1866.— To-day and yesterday the 
 prospect of leaving seemed most uncertain. A 
 cholera case was brought in, for which we had
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 to clear No. 4 Medical Ward. Notice was 
 given that more were expected. The first 
 case was a Dane emigrating with wife, baby, 
 two little children, and a boy of nine. He 
 died last night, and the poor widow is sad 
 indeed." 
 
 **May 10th. — Notice yesterday to clear an- 
 other ward, and before night we had the wife 
 and children of Petersen the Dane, two Dutch- 
 men with their wives, babies, and four other 
 children, and a poor man whose wife died here 
 of cholera, with an infant and two little chil- 
 dren under five. He is in great distress, as is 
 also the other father, whose child died ; the 
 meeting between husband and wife was most 
 affecting. He was so grateful for a little milk 
 for the children. To-day all sat round the 
 table for dinner, but none would begin till the 
 father asked a blessing." 
 
 ** Last week we had two cases brought in 
 by the police, who visited occasionally day and 
 night to see how they got on. One man said 
 he Vv^as so surprised to see so many young wo- 
 men about ; ' for indeed I must sa^- they're a
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 339 
 
 rough lot you've got in here ; many of them are 
 well known to us.' A pickpocket with £^ on 
 him, was brought in last night, known by his 
 coat, the pockets being so made that his hands 
 seem to be in them when they are in reality 
 engaged in stealing." 
 
 A few days later Agnes was able to leave 
 Liverpool, and join us in Dublin. Much as 
 she required rest and change after a year of 
 such continued strain on mind and body, no 
 personal consideration would have induced her 
 to take a holiday, but my mother's health ren- 
 dered it necessary that she should try German 
 baths in the summer, and the doctors wished 
 her also to winter abroad. We were therefore 
 most anxious to see Agnes, and under these 
 circumstances she consented to come. She ar- 
 rived at midnight on Friday, and returned to 
 Liverpool the Monday week following. My 
 mother wished that she should have as com- 
 plete a change as possible, and therefore pro- 
 posed that Agnes and I should spend a few 
 days at Killarney, though it was rather early 
 in the season ; we started on the Monday after 
 
 z 3
 
 340 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 her arrival, and returned to Dublin on Thurs- 
 day. The day after we reached Killarney was 
 one of incessant rain, and any excursion was 
 out of the question. In the afternoon, how- 
 ever, we put on our waterproof cloaks, and set 
 out on an exploring expedition to the beautiful 
 demesne of Muckross Abbey. Mountains, lake, 
 and sky were alike veiled in heavy mists of rain, 
 and to me the scene was cheerless enough, but 
 Agnes was in raptures ; every graceful tree or 
 picturesque rock she paused to admire, and be- 
 fore one bank of fern and wild flowers she stood 
 long in silent delight ; then turning to me, " Oh ! 
 what would I give to take that back with me 
 to Liverpool ; what a treasure it would be to 
 have anything so lovely to look at !" The next 
 day was bright and clear, and greatly did she 
 enjoy the drive to the head of the lakes, and 
 the return in the boat among the wondrous and 
 varied beauty of that enchanting scenery. Yet 
 the full enjoyment of her visit was somewhat 
 damped by her anxiety as to the spread of cho- 
 lera in Liverpool ; and though she had daily 
 letters to assure her that there was no cause
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 34I 
 
 for uneasiness, she was hourly expecting a pos- 
 sible recall. She looked so bright and well, 
 that we felt relieved about her health suffering 
 from her exertions, and her characteristic unself- 
 ishness made her at all times conceal from us 
 the frequent headaches and weariness which 
 often made exertion so difficult, and her much- 
 loved work a burden. 
 
 The first entry in her journal after her re- 
 turn is as follows : — 
 
 " May iSth. — This day last year we began 
 our work. It has been indeed a year of mer- 
 cies, and its review with the only record I can 
 make, ' Hitherto hath the Lord helped,' leads 
 to the resolve ' I will trust and not be afraid.' 
 St. Paul's list of the results of trial has been 
 much on my mind. Patience is the first link 
 in the chain, and yet I fear it is a lesson still 
 unlearned. How I feel the need of patience ! 
 The two following links I seem to know more 
 of — ' Experience ' and * Hope.' How wonder- 
 tully I have been helped ! God's watchful care 
 so marking just what I was able to bear, and 
 I seem to have been able to trust Him more
 
 342 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 fhe last few daj's, and truty I have not been 
 disappointed in my hope. One great comfort 
 I have had in all my trials since coming here 
 has failed me now ; it was, like Jonah's gourd, 
 most refreshing shade in the heat of many a 
 fiery sorrow. My gourd is withered now. I 
 must seek more to the Rock. The fig-tree does 
 not blossom, many another resource fails ; I 
 must therefore only rejoice in the Lord, and 
 stay on and joy in the God of my salvation." 
 
 " May ^ist. — God sent me a great pleasure to- 
 day. A little Polish Jew was dying. We could 
 not find his mother when we sent for her, but 
 to-day she came. As I passed through the 
 ward I stopped as usual at his bed, for he 
 seemed always to look for a word ; and then 
 told her she might stay with him all night, as 
 he was so near death. She took my hand and 
 seemed so to crave for sympathy. Not long 
 after, I returned, and found the screen round 
 the bed : he was just gone. She made me go 
 inside with her, and so clung to me, I could 
 not leave her until she went away. Her grati- 
 tude was most touching ; she kissed my hand
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 343 
 
 and said she would pray for me, for the Scrip- 
 tures promised blessing to those who were kind 
 to the Jews." 
 
 ''June 2nd.— I must give you some of my 
 brighter scenes. A poor man who has long^ 
 been with us, has been in a dying state for 
 days, and often wished me to come and talk 
 to him. He has been long a Christian. When 
 I went to him to-day I thought he was asleep, 
 but he sent for me, if I could spare a moment. 
 He wanted help to keep his eyes fixed on Jesus. 
 As I sat by him, his eyes closed, and he seemed 
 to sleep. I repeated a verse from time to time, 
 and the last stupor came on after he had told me 
 he could indeed trust His Saviour. So you see 
 all is not work. Is not God loving to send me to 
 speak of Himself when I was overwhelmed with 
 much serving ? It was as if He had taken me 
 those few moments aside to sit at His feet." 
 
 ''June 6//^.— Troubles and difficulties and 
 perplexities seem to multiply, but ' my God 
 thinketh upon me.' I try to trust Him with 
 the future, and He gives me work for Him — 
 cups of water to hand to His dying ones, which
 
 344 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 He will remember long after I and all my short- 
 comings here are forgotten. There is one poor 
 man who looks for me daily, and folds his 
 hands for prayer when he sees me. He cannot 
 speak, but T take it as a sign that he wants a 
 word about Jesus. Should not such work make 
 all else light ? It is such a privilege to be al- 
 lowed to help on one whom Jesus loves." 
 
 ''July 1st. — Thursday's Committee, before 
 which I was for an hour and a half, tried me 
 much. I feel so alone with no adviser. It must 
 send me more to God, the wonderful Counseller. 
 I slip over smooth surfaces away from Him : 
 the rugged path makes me ask His hand." 
 
 " Jidy Sth. — Weary — weary. I seem to un- 
 derstand the word now, for I am weary mind 
 and body. I have been trying to use it as a 
 plea, and to accept the invitations to the weaiy, 
 and have been selecting the passages with the 
 word. Isaiah xxxii. 2. ' As the shadow of a 
 great rock in a weary land. Isaiah xl. 28. 
 * The Lord fainteth not, neither is weary.* 
 Verse 31. * They that wait on the Lord . . . 
 shall not be weary.' Isaiah 1. 4. * To speak a
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 345 
 
 word in season to him that is weary.' Is 
 this part of my lesson, the part that concerns 
 others ? * For myself, it is to send me to God 
 Himself.' Jeremiah xxxi. 25. * I have satis- 
 fied the weary soul. The promise and the ex- 
 hortation.' Galatians vi. 7. * Let us not be 
 weary in well doing, for in due season,' in His 
 good time, * we shall reap, if we faint not.' 
 Judges viii. 4. * Weary yet pursuing.' But what 
 helped me most was John iv. 16. * Jesus being 
 wearied.' Hebrews xii. 3. * Consider Him that 
 endureth such contradiction of sinners against 
 Himself, lest ye be weary and faint in your 
 minds.' 2 Corinthians xi. 27. Paul brings in 
 weariness in his long list. How much trial he 
 had which I have not ! and yet to me as to him 
 is the word, * My grace is sufficient for me. 
 My grace is made perfect in weakness.' I have 
 that title. What are my trials and weariness 
 to what Christ endured ? Oh ! if all this will 
 but make me shelter more in Him Who has 
 fulness of sympathy for all. I may come to 
 that source and draw on it for ever." 
 
 *' August izth. — Yesterday I spent at Poulton
 
 34^ LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 Hall. I went there at eleven and did not return 
 till seven. Much enjoyed the entire change, get- 
 ting completely into the country ; but this even- 
 ing I had a far more cheering sight. A large 
 number were collected at my Bible reading, 
 and as we sang ' Rock of Ages,' A. and B. joining 
 in almost overpowered me. True, it was but 
 outward, yet it is a step. Those mouths, once 
 so full of cursing, those men noted as bad, even 
 in this wicked place, now singing God's praises. 
 No, I have not spent my strength for nought." 
 " The Old Testament characters which I am 
 going through with my class much interest me. 
 There seems such wonderful home-teaching and 
 experience, the very same every-day tempta- 
 tions, trials, and difficulties that I know. 
 Isaac's history to-day ; no great incident, but so 
 like me. God promised and gave great help, 
 safety from famine and yet Isaac could not 
 trust Him in the little thing of keeping him and 
 his wife. Placing great things in God's hand 
 and tr3dng to manoeuvre ourselves for the lesser ; 
 making Him our God and not our Father, — is 
 it not too often so ? Again, Isaac was tried by
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 347 
 
 the claims of others to what he felt his right. 
 He and his father digged wells ; theirs was the 
 labour, and was not the land theirs by promise ? 
 What a trial to faith when one and another was 
 claimed, and yet were not his patience and for- 
 bearance rewarded ? Was it not in this his 
 enemies saw that God was with him, helping 
 him to bear ? Then his gratitude when God 
 gave him a well. He would not suffer his 
 servant to be tried too long, a promise that seems 
 just for me, — tarry, wait for it, it will surely 
 come. Then God renews His covenant, not as 
 Isaac's but as Abraham's God. How much 
 surer, not with Isaac, or he might doubt whether 
 God were only his God while he was faithful. So 
 are the promises ' all yea and amen in Christ,' 
 and we are ' heirs of God and joint-heirs with 
 Christ.' The strong lesson is this, the testi- 
 mony to Isaac's walk; to us it appears incon- 
 sistent, but his enemies acknowledged God was 
 with him. We as disciples want men to take 
 knowledge of us that we have been with Jesus. 
 What was Isaac's secret ? We read of his me- 
 ditating in the fields at eventide ; in the entan-
 
 348 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 glement of his thoughts within him. Joshua i. 
 8, seems very similar. God made a promise 
 to him. He would be with him. He com- 
 mands him to meditate in His law, and if 
 he does so God^s presence with him should be 
 recognized by others. We see again with 
 Moses. First we have Exodus xxiv., he and 
 others seeing much of God's glory. In the 33rd 
 chapter he prays * Show me Thy glory.' In the 
 34th comes the answer, * I will make all My 
 goodness pass before thee ;' and we have a reve- 
 lation of God's character, and then follow the 
 second forty days on the Mount, and the mar- 
 vellous result of the face shining. ' Let your 
 light so shine before men.' The same process 
 is needed. We know of God's glory, His power. 
 We need to know more of His love, to know 
 Him as our Father, and then there w^ill be such 
 close and constant communion that men will 
 see we have been with Jesus, in spite of our 
 inconsistencies." 
 
 " December 11th, 1866. — I have felt very much 
 to-day a patient's death. He has been a great 
 interest to me lately, though I could not make
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 349 
 
 time to read to him often, and he never was 
 sure of me but on Sunday. It must have 
 been about a year ago that I first noticed him, 
 and I believe God taught me to teach him ; he 
 greatly delighted in my going to read and pray 
 with him. He was suffering from aneurism, 
 and greatly dreaded the death from it, and I too 
 feared it for him. Such a timid fearful disposi- 
 tion as his was. He could not speak loud, and 
 seldom tried to speak to me, but as I read and 
 talked to him I used to see the quiet tears 
 streaming down, and of late, his look and pres- 
 sure of my hand told his loving gratitude. He 
 never would allow me to be sent for, even when 
 he longed for me, but he told the nurse, * the 
 lady can never know what she has done for me.' 
 On Saturday he said, ' Oh, nurse, I wish no one 
 but you ever came near me, no doctor, no one.' 
 * Not even the lady ?' she asked. ' Oh, the 
 lady, oh yes ! I think I am in heaven when she 
 comes.' Last night I was very weary, and my 
 voice all but gone, but I am so glad I did not 
 yield to the disinclination to go to him. I told 
 him much of the promises of Christ's help and
 
 350 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 presence, as I knew he so feared death, and 
 even as I spoke, I dreaded the last struggle for 
 the poor timid one. I gave him the draught I 
 alwa3^s prepare for him earlier than usual, and 
 when I passed on my night rounds he seemed 
 under its influence. To-day I saw him when I 
 went up at 6 a.m., I stood beside him, but did 
 not speak as his breathing was oppressed. On 
 fmishing my rounds as I was ringing for 
 prayers, the nurse ran in — * Taylor is dead.' I 
 cannot tell you the overwhelming feeling of 
 God's faithfulness and loving care for His weak 
 ones, letting him go off so quietly." 
 
 I cannot exactly ascertain the date of the 
 follov/ing letter, but the visits of the Kirkdale 
 training-school girls took place, I think, every 
 three months, and for the first year and a half it 
 was her delight to provide some little feast or 
 amusement for them on this occasion ; it was a 
 great sorrow to her when their quarterly holiday 
 was put a stop to. 
 
 *' We had all the Kirkdale Training School 
 girls here yesterday, thirty-five girls, who 
 always seem so grateful and well-behaved, and
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 35I 
 
 really their greetings when they arrive are quite 
 affectionate. Those who have friends here go 
 to see them in various parts of the building, and 
 those w^ho have not, come to our sitting-room 
 and look at pictures, etc. When the tea was 
 laid, I read them a story while the rest were 
 gathering. The table was laid out with flowers, 
 bread-and-butter, rhubarb tarts, and pots of 
 jam, a large basket of cut currant cake at the top, 
 and several plates of sweet biscuits. After the 
 feast they went to play while we were at tea. 
 The day had been wet and gloomy, but cleared 
 up, and our yard was dry for games, so all went 
 there ; and as it was very mild I sent for all the 
 ward children, and we had twenty ranged 
 against the wall, fourteen in blankets ; these 
 and some elder boys and the patients who 
 crowded at the windows watched the games. 
 They went away at 6.30, each with a nosegay 
 of flowers, which so delighted them. 
 
 " January ^th, 1867. — Last night I had a 
 letter from Fahan, telling me of old Nancy 
 
 's death. I often think of the change it is 
 
 for the poor friendless, poverty-stricken ones, 
 though great and glorious it is even for a king.
 
 352 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 Dear, dear old Nancy, how often the thought of 
 her prayers for me and my work at Fahan 
 helped me on !" 
 
 She thus alludes to this same death in her 
 journal. " It is indeed a change, a going home ; 
 when shall I be there ? I am not weary of work 
 or life yet ; I want to do more for Jesus first. 
 The very, very few happy deaths here are great 
 help and comfort to me." 
 
 *' Febrtmry ist, — To-day I was thinking much 
 of the poor infirm patients, who have much to 
 try them. It is a marvel they are so quiet and 
 forbearing ; one poor young man told me so 
 sadly that he was often so irritable, he could 
 scarcely bear himself, and he was sure at times 
 others could scarcely bear him. He was a 
 painter, and five years since, he and some others 
 fell from a scaftolding; some were killed, he 
 injured his back, and has suftering which must 
 be life-long in head and spine ; besides he is 
 fast losing his sight. He said, ' It is not as if 
 I were an old man.' I have begun daily even- 
 ing Bible readings, which are such a watering 
 of my own soul that I trust to be able to con- 
 tinue them.'*
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 353 
 
 " 21st. — Few know all we have to contend 
 with here, the sin and wickedness, the evils so 
 hard to check, the struggle to keep any order 
 or rule enforced, the drudgery and the thank- 
 lessness. We have here, not only the trials of 
 hospital work but also of a reformatory, into 
 which men are thrust against their will, and 
 against all the rules of which they kick. You 
 give a man a pint of porter to drink, and stand 
 by to see it swallowed ; a confederate speaks to 
 you, and while your eye is for a moment re- 
 moved the full can is put behind the back and 
 another, provided on purpose, substituted. You 
 order them to table to their meals, they go to 
 it, and the moment your back is turned they 
 return to the fireside bench ; so with pipes, etc. 
 It is not the uphill work of the first start that 
 tries one, but the month after month, year after 
 year of the same discouragements ; the feeling 
 that if you relax your vigilance for a few days 
 all goes back. Sometimes this seems like the 
 land no man careth for, and yet God sends His 
 dew. His love is ever as the sun shining out 
 from behind the darkest cloud.'* 
 
 2 A
 
 354 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 ** February ^ih, 1867. — In the desperate 
 weather when the people were said to be starv- 
 ing, and we were almost left without bread, 
 while bakers were busy day and night for those 
 outside the walls, I was one day coming in at 
 the gate and admiring the beautiful bread and 
 plentiful supply, when, just because a bit of 
 crust was burned, — I should have liked it to 
 eat, — a woman began railing against the food 
 provided. So is it often with our patients, — 
 there have been some fearful scenes in the 
 oakum sheds lately, rivalling the prison 
 matron's revelations. You remember our visit 
 there and the woman who accompanied us. On 
 Saturday the women in the sheds attacked her, 
 threw her down, tried to run hairpins into 
 her eyes, and when assistance arrived were 
 pounding her all over. She had made herself 
 unpopular ; and an active part she had taken in 
 the seizure of a woman who had attacked her 
 fellow-officer the day before, was the cause of 
 this ; and one woman who ventured to say it 
 was a shame, was severely beaten. We are 
 expecting the death of another female officer
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 355 
 
 who was attacked by a girl, thrown down and 
 scratched ; it did not seem serious, but the 
 shock to her system made the wound inflame, 
 erysipelas has ensued, and she is dangerously 
 ill. We need not complain, for we scarcely ever 
 get hard words, much less blows. More and 
 more I come to the belief that these large in- 
 stitutions grouping together such numbers, are 
 the ruin of the inhabitants. One would blush 
 to tell the knowledge and practice of the vilest 
 sins among the children ; girls of seven es- 
 caping, to be brought back from the vilest 
 houses. On Wednesday we had a patient 
 brought in who had gone out well a few 
 weeks ago ; he looked more like a wild beast 
 than a man, he said he had not had his clothes 
 off for three weeks, nor ' seen his legs,' deeply 
 ulcered as they are. He had been drinking 
 freely, and was on the verge of delirium 
 tremens, of which he died that night. I some- 
 times wonder if there is a worse place on the 
 earth than Liverpool, and I am sure its work- 
 house is burdened with a large proportion of its 
 vilest. I can only compare it to Sodom, and 
 
 2 A 2
 
 356 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 wonder how God stays His hand from smiting. 
 Then, so little effort is made to stem the evil. 
 All lie passive, and seem to say it must be. 
 The attempt at introducing trained workers has 
 certainly not met with any sympathy from 
 clergy or laity. In the nearly ended two years 
 of our work, how few have ever come for the 
 work's sake to wish us God-speed in it ! I do 
 not mean to say that I am discouraged. I 
 believe we have had the blessing of the poor; I 
 never regret coming and I never wish to give 
 it up." 
 
 "26fh. — I went over toClaughton on Saturday, 
 and though I had not time for a long visit, I 
 much enjoyed it. S. and E. told me a great 
 deal of news, and it was pleasant to know a 
 little of friends and of the world outside these 
 gates. The climax of my enjoyment was the 
 drive. E. kindly ordered the phaeton to take 
 me down to the boat. We drove first up above 
 Hie house over a road which was bordered with 
 heather and pines, with a fine view of the sea. 
 Had the view been clear and the heather in 
 bloom, I think I should have been wild with
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 357 
 
 delight ; the pleasure even of the dark burnt 
 heather and murky view was so great. It blew 
 away many cobwebs, and so I returned to my 
 work wonderfully brightened up." 
 
 Few ever enjoyed nature so thoroughly as 
 Agnes did, and the rest and refreshment of a 
 day in the country always gave her new vigour. 
 Many friends in the neighbourhood of Liver- 
 pool urged her coming frequently to their 
 country-places, especially Mr. and Mrs. Rath- 
 bone of Greenbank, and Mr. and Mrs. W. 
 Rathbone, whose continued kindness and 
 thoughtfulness in procuring her comforts she 
 would never have got for herself, were among 
 the many blessings which she so often alludes 
 to as reminders of God's loving care ; — too 
 seldom did she avail herself of their repeated 
 invitations to breathe a purer air for a few 
 hours, and rest from her work, and only at Mr. 
 Cropper's, where she generally went for an hour 
 or two on Saturday, did she allow herself the 
 recreation which was so essential for her. 
 
 On the 7th March, 1867, the sub-committee 
 of the Workhouse Committee presented a re-
 
 358 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 port on the working of the system of trained 
 nurses. This was so favourable to their em- 
 ployment, that the vestry determined to adopt 
 the system as a permanent one, extending it lo 
 the whole of the Workhouse Infirmary a year 
 before the period fixed for the trial of the ex- 
 periment had expired. Mr. Rathbone sent her 
 a copy of the report with the following note : — • 
 
 " I send you the Committee's masterly re- 
 port; it could not have been better done to do 
 as wide-spread good as possible. It will 
 strengthen Miss Nightingale's hands and re- 
 joice her heart. The success would have been 
 impossible had it not been for your cheerful 
 firmness and faith. I do most warmly congra- 
 tulate you on having been so faithful a servant 
 to Him to Whom you look in a work so truly 
 His own." 
 
 April yth, she writes : — " The governor took 
 me to see the female hospital, my new dominion. 
 It was much more extensive than I expected, 
 apparently larger than this ; more surface, be- 
 cause the wards are only at one side of the 
 passages. I had a bright death-bed to-day to
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 359 
 
 cheer me ; poor , though at one time he 
 
 said, ' I am in such agony I cannot tell you,' 
 at another it was, 'I am so happy, so very 
 happy,* and his whole face beamed. When I said 
 he would soon be at home, he so brightened up. 
 * Yes, home, home with Jesus, — I want to be 
 there now,' and again and again he seemed to 
 return to the thought of home. An old man 
 died suddenly this morning in the same ward. 
 I knew he was suffering last night, and was 
 much struck by his quiet peaceful look. His 
 last words to the nurse were ' I am happy, for 
 He said, I will never leave thee.' Earlier in the 
 day she heard him say to another patient, * Re- 
 member what the Apostle says.' * What ?' was 
 asked. * All things work together for good to 
 them that love God,' was the reply." 
 
 *' May 2^rd. — We have many deaths just now; 
 on Friday last one was dying during our meet- 
 ing for evening prayer ; it seemed so solemn. 
 
 To-day I went to speak to old , in the 
 
 infirm wards, who was very ill. He at once 
 took my hand and said, ' I want to take leave 
 of you, — I never told you before, but do you re-
 
 S6o LIVERPOOl WORKHOUSE. 
 
 member speaking of the " gift of God is eternal 
 life through Jesus Christ our Lord ?" I got that 
 gift then. This is the truth. The Lord 
 strengthen you, and may you live more and 
 more to His honour.' He spoke much more, 
 quoting many texts, and though at times half- 
 wandering, one could not but feel his anchor 
 was within the veil." 
 
 " Jime, 1867. — Yesterday I had in succes- 
 sion the committee, the matron, the store- 
 keeper, the governor, and clerk of works, and 
 had a busy morning explaining the size I 
 wished the sheets, suggesting improvements in 
 the cut of the shirts, planning closets and rooms, 
 kitchen arrangements, etc., drawing out lists of 
 what I want in furniture from bed and bedding 
 down to tea-spoons for my new party, and tables, 
 chairs, and forms for the wards. I have been 
 contrasting that one death so stilling all at 
 
 , and here all going on in ordinar}^ routine 
 
 with seven deaths between Sunday night and 
 this (Tuesday) morning. I have written to get 
 another grant of books, or rather -^Tio worth 
 for ;^5. The books are so prized, but I cannot
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 361 
 
 rob the men's hospital, so shall not have any to 
 spare for the female. I am always taking away 
 bad literature, so I want to provide good, which 
 I find banishes the other." 
 
 To an invalid friend to whom she w^as very 
 much attached, she writes : — • 
 
 ''January 2^rd. Dearest,— You will really 
 think I have forgotten how to write, and now I 
 am not so overworked, but when I have not 
 necessary work I go about talking to the 
 patients. I have not as much time for this as 
 I should like, though more than I use faith- 
 fully. We have so many Roman Catholics and 
 such charges of partiality to Protestants, I often 
 excuse myself from more than the usual in- 
 quiries for health, comfort, etc., all round the 
 ward, only giving more time for reading to 
 those who express a wish. Since the com- 
 mencement of the year I have had a little even- 
 ing meeting in a small Protestant ward. It 
 began as for evening prayers, reading a chapter 
 and prayer, but at the men's request it is now 
 a Bible-reading meeting. The men of the ward 
 take a great interest in it, set the table and
 
 ^62 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 forms in order, Bibles and hymn-books, and 
 generally I find the book open at the hymn they 
 want to sing. Then they read in turns the 
 passages I refer them to, and explain the con- 
 nection, and end our half-hour with prayer. It 
 is to me a very interesting little meeting vary- 
 ing from twenty to thirty ; some come in from 
 other wards. Their attention and interest is 
 great, and each takes his part so well. We take 
 John iii., and I prepare each day a few well- 
 chosen references. The men wash their faces 
 and comb their hair before they come, no small 
 thing, and they afterwards tell the nurse if there 
 is not as large a number as usual present. It 
 is quite their own meeting, and they seem to 
 take an interest in it as such, and being God's 
 word honoured, I look for a blessing. 
 
 " I have several times thought I must try to 
 give you sketches for your tracts. I often think 
 of ' She hath done what she could,' as apply- 
 ing to the power of the least talented to do 
 good. There is a poor deformed cripple, repul- 
 sive in appearance, unable to speak plainly, and 
 scarcely able to walk or use his hands, and
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. ^6$ 
 
 scarcely able to feed himself. He is in a ward 
 of bed-ridden patients, and has constituted him- 
 self their pipe-lighter. I often watch and ad- 
 mire his efforts and patience. He makes an 
 old poker red-hot, and they having filled their 
 pipes, he goes first to one and puts his poker 
 into the bowl, the man whiffs away, Dick 
 stands patiently watching, by a strong effort 
 holding his shaking hands quiet with the poker, 
 or laying it over his arm ; no calls Vv'ill move 
 him till the pipe he earnestly watches is quite 
 alight, then he moves on. Dick's pains, and 
 the attention and care to complete one duty at 
 a time, often teach me a useful lesson. I 
 would go from one to another, perhaps satisfied 
 that I had tried to help them. 
 
 *' I have been waiting for the death of a dear 
 old man to tell you of a very interesting con- 
 versation I had with him, but he still lives, and 
 I must tell you a little. Old David has long 
 been a great favourite with us all. He had 
 been a carpenter, and whatever was required in 
 that line he was always glad to do, often when 
 almost unable. He has lately been very ill.
 
 364 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 One night I repeated to him the hymn ' Begone 
 unbelief,' ending ' And then, oh how joyful the 
 conqueror's song !' 
 
 " Next day he told me that these last words 
 had been on his mind. It almost seemed as if 
 it were his, that * conqueror's song.' 
 
 " He said, Satan had tried to shake his faith 
 and trust. ' But I said. Lord, I am weak, 
 weak, but Thou hast said, " Get thee behind 
 me, Satan," and in Thy power, in Thy power, I 
 say it now. And then I saw Jesus' love to me. 
 What a wonderful thing it is that He so makes 
 known that love ! I knew it before, but not as 
 since last night, and I am only beginning now 
 to know it. That surpassing love, I cannot tell 
 what it is. It is infinite ; and what is infinite 
 but Jesus ? And is it not eternal ? Jesus is a 
 Rock, a fixed Rock : nothing can shake Him, 
 and so His love can never fail. I feel now 
 I have such a firm grasp of that love, I can 
 never again let it go. Only His love made it 
 known to me. His Spirit taught me, not man, 
 for that man could not do. I so thought of your 
 words when I felt Satan go, and that love laying 
 hold of me. Oh,howjoyful the conqueror's song 1'
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 365 
 
 ''Dearest, I have no time for more. — Your 
 own Agnes." 
 
 Another letter to this same friend, though 
 not written from Liverpool, may be given 
 here. 
 
 " My writing t.o you seems almost hopeless ; 
 good intentions are so often frustrated. Lately 
 I have been very, very busy ; now there is a lull. 
 How many letters of yours are unacknowledged! 
 and yet they are a peculiar pleasure to me, for 
 I want to know more of the invalid's trials and 
 pleasures, as I often regret that I have not the 
 sympathy that experience alone teaches. Since 
 your last I have heard of your sufferings. I have 
 lately watched two lingering restless deathbeds, 
 and these seem to give such force to the as- 
 surance, ' There remaineth rest ; ' and yet, 
 though of both I had hope, I longed for a more 
 sure and certain hope. Dearest, I need your 
 prayers. My present position is most difficult 
 — exposed to much jealousy, very isolated, 
 often scarcely a moment alone, and at night 
 feeling every spare moment must be given to 
 sleep, as often I have to watch instead. No
 
 366 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 religious advantages of any kind, and not much 
 teaching when I can go to Church, besides 
 being shackled in every v\^ay by those wath 
 whom I am working. But withal, I can feel I 
 am of use to some, and though not as free as 
 I should wish with my patients, I know they 
 cling to me (many) for teaching as well as 
 nursing. And I can feel how this discipline, 
 though not what I should have chosen, is per- 
 haps, indeed must be, the best training for the 
 difficult but important position to which God 
 seems to be calling me. Of this you will have 
 heard. Will you pray much for me, that by a 
 fresh baptism of the Spirit, I may go to that 
 workj making mention of Christ's righteous- 
 ness only, and in His strength. Much is hoped 
 from me, and I feel so incapable, I can only 
 cast all on God, and tell Him as He has 
 chosen, so He must fit me for the work. If I 
 succeed, to Him must be all the glory ; if I 
 fail, may it not bring dishonour to His cause. 
 All is not yet decided, so I am not yet quite 
 sure of the position. I almost dread it, and 
 yet I cannot ask it may not be mine ; so it
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 367 
 
 seems as if I must lie passive in His hands. 
 I can say, * Forget not all His benefits,' for so 
 often when I seem unable to bear more, relief 
 comes ; or when I need a change of ideas — you 
 know what that is — something comes. In my 
 home life, which people used to consider so 
 monotonous, I never knew this want ; now, not 
 often, and then, more by the relief than the felt 
 need. Of God's loving tender care I trust we 
 are both learning deeper lessons ; that un- 
 changing love which seems so to mark every 
 need, and supply it, answering almost before 
 we call. It often makes me feel how much 
 more experience should work in us hope, and 
 even more full assurance, but I at least am 
 such a slow learner. How blessed that He 
 changes not, and that our times are in His 
 hands! May we grow in the knowledge of His 
 love. 
 
 *' Ever your affectionate and sympathizing 
 friend, 
 
 ** Agnes E. Jones." 
 
 The old man alluded to in the first of these
 
 368 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 two letters is noticed in her journal about the 
 same date. He did not die until July, 1868, 
 five months after she who had cheered his 
 dying pillow had herself joined in the rejoicing 
 strains of the " conqueror's song." 
 
 " Last night I went to poor old David Salis- 
 bury, and in a strong earnest voice he told me 
 of all the joy with which his heart was filled 
 in the experience of Christ's love to him. He 
 then went off to speak of his mother's death. 
 Her last words were, (she could scarcely speak 
 from weakness,) * for ever and for ever.' The 
 night before she died, he sat up with her. He 
 had been reading, but dozed off, and when his 
 father woke him, he said, ' I had such a dream ; 
 I heard the words, " Give her the remittance 
 of her sins, for Jesus' sake.' To-day he said 
 to me, ' I am so glad to see you ; I want to tell 
 5^ou He is my Rock, my Refuge, my strong 
 tower. He makes known His love to me more 
 and more. Oh, He is good, good, good. Is 
 He not love, so to teach me of His love ? ' In 
 the evening I read to him Rev. vii., and spoke 
 to him of the wonderful thought of how, even
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 369 
 
 in heaven, the care and the ministry of Father 
 and Son for the sons of God docs not end. 
 * The Lamb shall lead them by fountains of 
 water.' God, the Father, * shall wipe away all 
 tears.' And then I went back to the first be- 
 ginning of His work for us. We sinners, unfit 
 for heaven, made meet for the inheritance of 
 the saints in light. He said he should not last 
 long. I said, * You will not be sorry for that, 
 for you know you can say, " For me to live is 
 Christ, to die is gain." " Eye hath not seen, 
 nor ear heard, neither hath it entered the heart 
 of man to conceive the things which God hath 
 prepared for them that love Him." " Jesus 
 went to prepare the place."" * 
 
 ** Yet there seems a fear of the last struggle 
 sometimes. He begs for prayer with him, and 
 bespeaks my coming, and yet is lovingly careful 
 to add, * if you can get time.' 
 
 *' What a field there is here for soul work ! 
 David S. speaks of Satan as still trying him 
 at times. * He catches me unawares, but it is 
 only for a moment ; T am so weak : " Nothing 
 in my hand I bring, but simply, simply to Thy 
 
 2 B
 
 370 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 cross I cling." * Then I could hear little of 
 many muttered words, after we had prayed to- 
 gether, except, * The m.atchless love and mercy 
 of God.' * Seek ye the Lord : He is near, very 
 near.* 
 
 ** It is no mere form of words that many 
 patients value the care they receive, — nev/ in- 
 deed to them. A very old man said, in answer 
 to a question, ' I never had a friend in all my 
 life till I came here. You are my only friend ; 
 I never had any before.' '* 
 
 ** 24th. — David seems to be sinking. He said 
 to-day, * Oh what a precious Jesus — precious, 
 precious !' And when I said, * You are going 
 home.' * Going to Him, yet I will wait His 
 time ; I will not ask to hasten it ; He knows 
 best.' In answer to my inquiries this morn- 
 ing, he said, * Weaker and weaker, but nearer 
 and nearer : it is £. blessed hope.' * Do you 
 want anything ? ' * Nothing on earth, but only 
 His will. His will.' 
 
 " How often, when weighed down under the 
 sense of responsibility, God sends me work to 
 do for Him ! To-night I stood by ^ deathbed.
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 371 
 
 A young man who buried his wife a fortnight 
 since, and came here to die. One child has 
 also gone ; two remain, one of whom is dying. 
 All consumptive, their end hastened by want. 
 They had been respectable people, — he earning, 
 when in health, ^200 a year. Much was 
 wasted by a drunken step-mother, who even 
 pawned for drink a sheet from about her 
 daughter's corpse. Cole's wife died trusting 
 in Jesus, and he too looked to Him. I scarcely 
 believed him conscious as I stood by him, but 
 I repeated in the dying ear, ' Yea, though I 
 walk through the valley of the shadow of 
 death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with 
 me.' * In my Father's house are many man- 
 sions.' Here he interrupted me. ' Yes, He 
 my Saviour.* * Shall I pray ?' I asked. He put 
 up his hands, and I knelt and asked Jesus to 
 be very near, and put the children in His care. 
 His face was so calm and peaceful then, and 
 when T saw him next in his coffin. Oh, what 
 love in God, to let me with all my unfaithful- 
 ness give a cup of cold water to His disciples !" 
 ** October 22nd, — Our new wards are a great 
 
 S B 3
 
 372 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 strain at present. You could not imagine such 
 a set of women as the mothers of the sick 
 babies. They have nothing to do but nurse 
 their children, and they will scarcely do that. 
 To get them up and their beds made is a task 
 in the morning ; and then to get the beds kept 
 tidy is no less difficult, as they get in and out 
 all day. Then the noise, quarrelling, dirt, etc. 
 There is a little improvement already, however. 
 They are sj astonished at having nurses who 
 do not swear at them." 
 
 *' Decemher j6th. — Christmas preparations for 
 1400 people keep me busy ; 70 wards to adorn 
 with evergreens, besides the nurses' rooms. 
 The two hospitals are so far apart we must 
 have two Christmas-trees this year ; and as I 
 cannot possibly be in two places at once, I 
 think we must have the second on New Year's 
 Day. Work never was harder than now, for 
 great changes, are going on, and the whole 
 place is upset. I have one bright spot, how- 
 ever. The ' wild beasts ' I told you of in our 
 class sick nursery mothers are taming wonder- 
 fully, and I hope their fights, like the men's,
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 373 
 
 will soon be matters of past history. A great 
 many children die, and I can scarcely be sorry 
 when I think of what might be ; but it is often 
 sad to see them dying. They look so pretty in 
 their little coffins, and we lay them out very 
 nicely." 
 
 " December 2yth, 1867. — Now that Christmas 
 is well over you must have a letter. You ought 
 to have had one before, but it was really im- 
 possible, for T scarcely know how mind and 
 body stood the strain and anxiety. Green- 
 bank and Ardmore contributed evergreens ; 
 Mr. Rathbone and Emily sent me oranges, 
 apples, and money. So I had kindly help. 
 The putting all together, supplying the innu- 
 merable wants, planning the nurses* supper, 
 the trees and amusements for both hospitals, 
 cakes for 120 scourers, besides all the usual 
 work and extra forethought required to provide 
 for the few days when no one will work here, 
 you may think how thankful 1 was when the 
 day was over without any fighting and little 
 drunkenness. Of course the smoothness was 
 not unruffled, but I was very glad to have so
 
 374 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 much. The sick nursery mothers were a great 
 care, but we got them safely through the day 
 by giving them a tree and magic lantern show 
 to themselves. The men and their scourers 
 behaved admirably ; one female patient and 
 some scourers on that side were rather the 
 worse for the liberal ale allowance, which is a 
 great temptation ; but for 1277 patients, 130 
 scourers, 60 nurses, and 20 carriers — a total cf 
 1487 — to give no trouble, was a great triumph. 
 I was glad to get all to bed on Christmas night. 
 It was twelve before the nurses finished their 
 games, and my back was breaking. I was very 
 tired yesterday, but as a headache sent me to 
 bed in the afternoon, I had a long rest, and 
 am all right again. Kind Mrs. Cropper sent 
 me such handsome volumes of Trench' on the 
 Parables and Miracles, with such a kind letter. 
 The evergreens from Ardmore were such a 
 pleasure ; lovely branches 01 laurel, so smooth 
 and clean. Those from this neighbourhood 
 were black and sooty, one was for ever washing 
 one's hands after working with them ; those 
 from Ardmore so clean, not spotting a handker-
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 375 
 
 chief. The patients were almost as delighted 
 as I was, as most are Irish. Not a bit was 
 broken up, but the branches were planted in 
 pots, each ward claiming a * tree.' Wreaths 
 were made for my room, and on Sunday they 
 sent me into a day dream, as I sat and looked 
 at the bits of variegated holly, Chinese bar- 
 berry, laurel, and laurestinus. The delight of 
 the women with the tree was so great. ' To 
 think I should have lived so many years and 
 not seen the like : I'd have walked five miles 
 to see it.' We carried several helpless ones to 
 see it, and all who were well enough to enjoy 
 it came to look." 
 
 Many were the little treats and pleasures of 
 this kind which Agnes from time to time pro- 
 vided for the patients and nurses. Books, 
 flowers, illuminated texts, bright pictures, all 
 these had a humanizing influence, and she con- 
 f>idered them essential to the softening and 
 civilizing of the hardened rugged characters 
 among whom her work lay. For the nurses, 
 too, she was constantly planning some variety, 
 a day in the country, a walk to the botanical
 
 376 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 gardens, an excursion to Birkenhead or New 
 Brighton. Thus would she vary the painful 
 routine of their life, and give a fresh turn to 
 their thoughts, which found little pleasant to 
 dwell on within the walls. 
 
 But while thus caring for others, she forgot 
 herself; the strength which was above the 
 average, indeed, was yet not superhuman, and 
 the long-continued strain on mind and body 
 told at last. The journals tell of painful de- 
 pression ; her ever-sensitive conscience, which 
 at all times led to a habit of introspection, result- 
 ing in almost morbid self-condemnation, made 
 her judge herself and her work only to see 
 defects. It is evident that nerves, spirit, and 
 strength were all over-taxed. The added care 
 of the Female Hospital, with its unruly in- 
 mates, and new revelation of sin and un- 
 natural conduct, was a burden too heavy for 
 one already weighed down with care and over- 
 work ; and the beginning of 1868 was one of 
 unusual sickness, the hospitals crowded far 
 beyond their allotted numbers, and fever at- 
 tacked several in the house. The very last 
 letter she ever wrote is as follows ; —
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 377 
 
 ** Saturday, February ist. — I fancy it must be 
 a very long time since I wrote, but I really 
 cannot keep count of time, which flies. I have 
 had much and serious illness among my staff; 
 indeed the weather is so close and unhealthy, it 
 is no wonder. My work has been tremendous ; 
 we have had constantly upwards of three hun- 
 dred patients above our proper number ; extra 
 beds on the floor, ten or fourteen in large 
 wards, five to seven in small ; but when about 
 six weeks are past we may look forward to a 
 diminution. . . . We have had a series of stir- 
 ring and tragic events lately in our wards. One 
 wretched woman was brought in, who, as soon 
 ac her baby was born, cut its throat. As soon 
 as well enough, she goes to her trial. We 
 have had the policeman constantly in the next 
 room. Another poor baby was brought in 
 found in the streets, almost frozen, with a cord 
 round its neck. It was only twelve hours old, 
 but we were able to revive it. It is in a place 
 like this, one learns what wickedness there is 
 on earth. I woke this morning feeling as if all 
 night I had been repeating—
 
 373 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 " And feel at heart that One above, 
 In perfect wisdom, perfect love, 
 Is working for the best." 
 
 And later on came the remembrance of the 
 line — 
 
 *' That I from self may rest.'* 
 
 It is what I need to learn : to trust all to Jesus; 
 leave oft' from my own doings, and leave all to 
 Him." 
 
 It was wonderful how in the midst of her 
 work she found time to send a line of sympathy 
 to those who were in trouble. Two letters may 
 be given here to show how she had learned to 
 comfort others with the comfort wherewith she 
 herself was comforted of God : — 
 
 *' Dearest C. — You have been so constantly 
 thought of for the last few weeks that T must 
 try to write to you. But if it was difficult to ex- 
 press sympathy in the anticipation of trial, what 
 is it now ? I can only pray God to comfort 
 you. Dearest, I know the many aggravations 
 of what is always a bitter grief, and I have 
 stood with orphans by a similar deathbed; 
 and while I pray that you may have the
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 379 
 
 * strong consolation ' God alone can give, I 
 ask that your minds may be kept from regrets 
 respecting means used, and staying on His 
 own ruling Providence, which ordered all for 
 the best for heVf and knew the end from the 
 beginning iov yoii. There is bright light in the 
 clouds, for she is free from pain and sorrow, 
 and for ever with the Lord she so loved, wait- 
 ing to welcome you all. But oh, the clouds 
 are very dark for you. Perhaps few know this 
 better than your and dear E.'s most sympa- 
 thizing friend, 
 
 ** Agnes Jones." 
 
 To another friend at an earlier date :— 
 *' My dear M., — I have had so many thoughts 
 of writing to you, and have gone on from day to 
 day undecided as to what it was best to do, but 
 now I hope you will receive it as meant as some 
 slight token of how much I feel for you all in your 
 deep trials. I have so often thought of our last 
 walk together, and as near the end you spoke 
 of Miss G. and showed me the house, I remem- 
 ber wondering if you did not even then icar a
 
 380 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 similar trial ? And now that it has come, dear 
 M., I trust you may be enabled to see the love 
 of Him who holds the rod. My words can 
 scarcely tell you how much I feel for you, and 
 what can I speak to comfort ? I will tell you 
 of a few verses from which I have been lately 
 learning much myself in a different kind of 
 trial, Job xxiii. 6. I think this may show one 
 end of affliction. When wave upon wave comes, 
 so that we exclaim, ' Will He plead ajainst me 
 with His great power?' how blessed it is to see 
 the object of all to be ' No, but He would put 
 strength in me.' Then, though we cannot see 
 His hand yet (verse 10) * He knoweth the way 
 that I take ; when He hath tried me, I shall 
 come forth as gold.* Here is His purpose, 
 again, to purify and refine. Then we see His 
 training too in all (verse 11), 'for He performeth 
 the thing that is appointed for me ;' the " needs 
 be " may be dark to us, but He knows it. In this 
 connection Job xxxvii. 11-13 comes in so beauti- 
 fuli\ — ' Also by watering he wearieth the thick 
 cloud. The cloud is dark, and He may even 
 seem to darken it more, but it is that He may
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 3S1 
 
 scatter His bright cloud. From Matthew xvii. 
 5, where we find the voice from the bright 
 cloud testifying of Jesus, we may, I think, take 
 it as the manifestation of the presence of God ; 
 this bright cloud will be scattered, its rays pene- 
 trate even the thick clouds. Both alike are or- 
 dered by Him to do whatsoever He commandeth 
 them.' Then come the reasons for the thick cloud 
 (verse 13), — ' He causeth it to come, whether 
 for correction, or for his land, or for mercy.* 
 There are depths in each expression, but spe- 
 cially beautiful is the 'for His land.' The land 
 on which no human eye rests. He yet beautifies 
 for Himself; rain falls there as on^. the most 
 favoured spot 'to satisfy the desolate and waste 
 ground'. The barren unfruitful soil is to be satis- 
 fied, — a Bible word, full of man's emptiness and 
 God's rich supply, — and not only this, but also 
 * to cause the bud of the tender herb to spring- 
 forth.' Here is the end of the whole matter. 
 God sends the thick cloud, the rain of trial, on 
 His land or people in order to bring up into 
 more healthy and perfect form the seed which 
 He Himself sowed, that that which was before
 
 382 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 but a tender herb and ' a bud of the tender 
 herb ' may spring forth into one of the trees of 
 the Lord's planting. Dear M., I hope it may- 
 be thus with you. How cold is the warmest 
 human sympathy in such a trial as yours ! 
 Such as mine is, it is offered to you and yours 
 by 
 
 " Your affectionate friend, 
 
 ** Agnes E. Jones." 
 
 To a friend on her birthday : — 
 
 ** If love were the measure of words and 
 wishes, you would receive none more earnest 
 and warm than mine. I cannot wish you many 
 happy years, but I can most heartily wish that 
 this new year may be one of growth in grace 
 and in the knowledge of Jesus, — one of more 
 simple devotion to His service and one of 
 greater usefulness. How you shrink from much 
 required of you, He knows ! I realized it when 
 I felt your hand after speaking to-night. Dear- 
 est, did not those answering looks and tears 
 help you ? It was good seed ; may He nourish 
 it till it bring forth much fruit, — sown in weak-
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 383 
 
 ness, raised in power. In your loneliness, in 
 your need of sympathy, in your trembling in 
 the way of duty, in your weakness and discou- 
 ragement, in your sleepless nights and hours of 
 weariness and pain, — may He draw near and be 
 with you, or rather open your eyes as those of 
 the prophet's servant to see Him near with His 
 riches of grace and strength to supply and meet 
 your need. We want more to realize this His 
 nearness, not only with tenderest sympathy, 
 but with a treasury of healing, — with the very 
 help suited to the special need. How strong 
 and happy should we be did we realize this, 
 and were Jesus the God-man all He wants to 
 be to us ! " 
 
 Agnes did indeed draw strength and comfort 
 from this source. We have spoken of hours of 
 depression and records of heart-sickening dis- 
 appointment and anxious, wearing care, but 
 no trace of this ever appeared in her face when 
 she went through the wards or among the 
 nurses. '' Every one tells me I am looking so 
 well and happy " was her constant assurance 
 in her letters home, and all her friends who
 
 384 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 went to see her, remarked on the beaming look 
 in her face. " She is Hke a sunbeam," was the 
 frequent expression used in speaking of her. 
 But she needed rest, and she was to have it 
 now. We have spoken of the increase of ill- 
 ness, and especially of fever. A young nurse 
 who had been suffering from bronchitis showed 
 symptoms of typhus when too ill to be moved 
 into the Fever Hospital, and Agnes, with her 
 usual thought for others and forgetfulness of 
 herself, gave up her own bedroom to the suf- 
 ferer and slept on the floor of her sitting- 
 room. The last letter to us was written when 
 illness had already so overpowered her as to 
 make her feel it impossible to leave her room, 
 but she gives no hint of pain or fatigue. From 
 the entry in her journal of January 22nd, it 
 would seem that she was under the influence 
 of the fatal poison which seems in typhus 
 fever so often to seize upon one after another 
 victim. My eldest aunt, who had been at the 
 deathbed of a brother in the Isle of Man, came 
 to Liverpool on her way to Dublin on the 6th 
 February; she had not heard of Agnes's illness, 
 but was met with the news on her arrival.
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 385 
 
 Some years before, in writing to one of my 
 aunts, Agnes said : — 
 
 *' I have just heard of dear Lady Macgregor's 
 sudden death ; it was a joyful summons. I 
 have been thinking much of that poem ' What 
 is the happiest death to die ?' J. says, * An ill- 
 ness beforehand, not too long, but to allow of 
 speaking dying words and so being of use.* 
 Mine would be either illness taken in the per- 
 formance of duty, or sudden, in the very act of 
 speaking of Jesus to a lost one," 
 
 This prayer was indeed granted. We need 
 not look at second causes, or judge as men 
 judge of the reason for this crushing blow. 
 Faith looks higher and sees another side of the 
 picture, — a brighter, truer, more comforting 
 one. The Heavenly Father who had watched 
 cv^r His child so lovingly through the thirty-hve 
 years of Her earthly pilgrimage. Who had ac- 
 cepted the early offering of her heart given to 
 Him, before the world with its many alluring 
 pleasures had wooed her affections. Who had 
 kept her by His grace ever true to her early 
 faith and love and led her by such a wondrous 
 
 2 c
 
 386 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 path of service and self-devotedness. He had 
 willed that His child should rest from her 
 labours. It was enough ; her place was ready 
 in His presence, and He said to her, " Enter 
 thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 It will perhaps be best here to link together 
 the history of her life with the short story of 
 her deathbed by inserting a letter of recollec- 
 tions from one who was to her, friend and sister 
 during her three years in Liverpool. 
 
 Miss G. writes : — 
 
 " I must try if I can find time to write down 
 my remembrances of my precious friend, Agnes 
 Jones. Before she came to Liverpool I had 
 heard of her, and felt intensely interested in 
 hearing of her devotion to her Master's ser- 
 vice in the care of His poor and sick ones. 
 When it was decided that she was to come to 
 Liverpool to take charge of the Workhouse 
 Hospital, where I had been a visitor for thirteen 
 years, my interest deepened, and I thanked 
 God with a joyful, hopeful heart. I shall never 
 forget my first meeting with her. I made a 
 short call, for she was much engaged, but her
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 387 
 
 quiet, ladylike, self-possessed manner particu- 
 larly struck me. This call was followed by one 
 or two more, but we did not get below the 
 surface (probably from reserve on both sides) 
 until about the fourth call I made, my darling 
 friend threw herself on the ground at my side, 
 and begged that I would pray for and with her, 
 for she felt ' in great need.' We almost always 
 met twice every week. I went to her on Thurs- 
 day, and she came to Dingle Bank (whenever 
 practicable) on Saturday. It was surprising to 
 me to find one filling such a post, possessed of 
 such extreme sensibility and deep feeling. I 
 often wished she felt less keenly^ but then as 
 she said, * if she did not feel pain keenly she 
 would not feel pleasure,' and there certainly 
 never was a heart so quickly made to overflow 
 wdth gratitude to God and to man for small 
 mercies. A note, a flower, a kind word would 
 make her exclaim, * He careth for me.' She 
 was most considerate for the nurses under her 
 care, and when some were ill with small-pox 
 she visited them daily, as she considered her- 
 self proof against infection. Most touching to 
 
 2 C 2
 
 388 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 me is the remembrance of her kind thought for 
 the sick ; all sorts of little cheering attentions 
 and alleviations ; one wondered how she thought 
 of all. I believe no one will ever know what 
 she did for the patients, — making it easy for 
 friends to come from a distance to visit the sick, 
 and dying one, and then being near with a 
 comforting word when all was over. She Would 
 not often allow me to be present at her Bible 
 readings, but I shall never forget one at which 
 I had leave to remain. There must have been 
 nearly a hundred men in the ward ; every eye 
 was fixed upon her, and the attention was pro- 
 found. Her subject was simple, very well 
 prepared, and spoken without any difficulty or 
 the least hesitation ; just a simple and most 
 forcible (from its simplicity) setting forth of the 
 Gospel, and then a most earnest prayer that all 
 might be led to accept and embrace it. One 
 felt it was just the teaching required, and again 
 I thanked God for sending her. She had keen 
 enjoyment of the country, and sometimes when 
 I persuaded her to leave her heavy duties and 
 take a drive she always enjoyed it; and would
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 389 
 
 laughingly say we had ' had a spree.* I now 
 feel her labours were far beyond her strength, 
 yet when I spoke about it to her, and urged, as 
 I often did, more rest, she would reply, * These 
 busy two years have been the happiest of my 
 life,' adding, * you must not think because I tell 
 you all my troubles that I am unhappy, for this 
 is not the case ; I am generally very happy, 
 only I like to tell you these things, — I have no 
 one else to speak to, and then you know how to 
 pray for us.' This she very often said, so that 
 in reading her manuscripts I have hoped that 
 the clouds were painted there, but that there 
 was sunshine. On Saturdays we almost always 
 read and prayed together, and sometimes on 
 Thursdays too, and these seasons were most 
 precious. In January of this year (1868) some 
 friends met in her rooms for united prayer, and 
 I believe we shall none of us forget the part 
 dearest Agnes took, and the unction and power 
 with which she prayed. It was the last time I 
 ever heard her pray. On Thursday, the 30th 
 January, I noticed that she seemed much de- 
 pressed, and we had a long talk, and it seemed
 
 390 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 to me SO much of a physical nature that I felt 
 sure she could not be well, and said so. She 
 would not admit that much was the matter. I 
 stayed tea with her, and she rested with me in 
 her room for about an hour. She then went 
 her usual evening rounds, and returned to me, 
 saying she would go to Hope Hall. I tried to 
 persuade her to rest instead, but she said, ' It 
 is the greatest rest and refreshment I have.'' I 
 did not oppose it further, and we went. On 
 Friday we were extremely anxious about Mrs. 
 James Cropper, who was dangerously ill, and 
 as I had often seen our loved one just as poorly 
 and tired, I hoped all was well with her, and 
 my anxiety was centred on another object. On 
 Saturday we expected her as usual, but the 
 cabmen had struck for higher fares, and we 
 supposed this had prevented her coming. On 
 Monday dear Mrs. J. C. died, and on Tuesday, 
 Feb. 4, I met Dr. Gee, who asked me if I knew 
 that Agnes was ill. Most certainly I did not, 
 and wished to go to her at once, but he said he 
 had left her 'settled for the night,' and that she 
 had better not be disturbed. After a troubled
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 39I 
 
 night I set off very early to my loved friend, 
 and went into her room (Wednesday, Feb. 5). 
 She looked flushed, but was perfectly herself, 
 greeting me with ' What brings you here so 
 early in the morning ?' and added, * What busi- 
 ness has Dr. Gee to make my friends anxious 
 about me ?' She was so bright and cheerful, 
 my fears were lessened, and after a little time 
 of prayer together (our last time, Wednesday, 
 Feb. 5), I left her, as she wished to be ' quite 
 still.' The next day (Thursday, Feb. 6), the 
 disease was declared to be typhus, but the 
 doctor gave us good hope that she would get 
 through nicely, and gave directions that she 
 was not to be spoken to or roused to speak 
 about anything. I was with her most of that 
 day, and arranged about her being nursed as 
 she wished to be, and did many things for her 
 to keep her dear mind easy, for just at that 
 time she was full of thought and care about 
 little matters, and she would then send for me 
 and confide to me her wishes (which chiefly 
 referred to her work). In the evening we had 
 the sitting-room nicely prepared, and she was
 
 392 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 removed into it on Friday morning (Feb. 7). 
 You know the room. Her bed w^as placed 
 between the windows, which were slightly 
 darkened, and then by means of the window 
 opposite the door and the fire Vve were able to 
 preserve the most perfect ventilation. The 
 doctor who was called in said, ' We could not 
 have a more perfect sick-room.' The darling 
 was greatly pleased with her change, and looked 
 up to me with a sweet smile, saying, ' I am so 
 comfortable !' On Friday evening (Feb. 7) 
 your dear aunt came ; she will have told you 
 the rest, but I incline to continue my account. 
 We went on very hopefully for a week, the 
 darling sleeping most of her time, and when 
 not asleep, not seeming inclined to speak. She 
 asked sometimes * Is Miss Gilpin here ?' and 
 said, ' She should not come every day, it is too 
 great an exertion.' Once or twice she sent for 
 me to write a note on business for her, but very 
 soon there was no connected thought. She 
 would talk unconsciously about her wards, her 
 nurses, and her work ; and when the alarming 
 symptoms came on, she fancied herself a third
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 393 
 
 party, and suggested alleviations for the diffi- 
 cult breathing. On the Friday week (Feb. 14) 
 after she was taken ill, she was thought in 
 danger, and another medical man was sent for. 
 On Saturday (Feb. 15) we had a little more 
 hope. Sunday (Feb. 16) was a terribly anxious 
 day. I met the nurses for prayer, and a most 
 solemn time we had. There was much prayer 
 for her both in the workhouse and out of it, 
 and I could not believe she was to die. When 
 the doctors said * It will be a miracle if she 
 lives — the power of man cannot save her,' I 
 replied, * A miracle will be wrought then,' so 
 fully did I think she must live. But God saw 
 otherwise, — the work was more fully done than 
 I had thought, and the ' well done ' about to be 
 said to one who had indeed toiled all the morn- 
 ing and rested at noon. All hope was given up 
 on Tuesday night (Feb. 18) : the pulse at 150 
 — no power to subdue it. And so 'the silver 
 cord was loosed, the golden bowl was broken,* 
 and the purified spirit of this self-sacrificing 
 earnest worker returned to God, to find to her 
 surprise and joy and gratitude the battle fought.
 
 394 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 the victory won, and the rest attained (Febru- 
 ary 19, 1868, 2 A.M.)." 
 
 The first tidings of my dear sister*s illness 
 reached us on the night of the nth February, 
 when a telegram arrived (which should have 
 followed, not preceded a letter we received the 
 next morning), telling us she was progressing 
 favourably. The shock was very great ; for 
 though we knew she was ever exposed to in- 
 fection, the anxiety we had felt on this point 
 when she first entered on hospital work had in 
 great measure passed away, and we had a kind 
 of feeling that as she was doing God's work, 
 He would preserve her from all evil. Day 
 after day passed, and telegrams and letters 
 brought better accounts, and we hoped all 
 might yet be well. My mother's state of health 
 and the season of the year which would have 
 made a return to England most dangerous for 
 her, prevented our thinking of hastening to 
 Liverpool, and this enforced absence added in 
 no small degree to the painful anxiety then and 
 the bitterness of our grief afterwards. It needs 
 to remember, and to go over and over again
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 395 
 
 what our faithless hearts are so prone to forget, 
 that all these circumstances are ordered for us, 
 arranged by One, Who never wills unkindl}', 
 and therefore must be submitted to as His dis- 
 pensation, to which we must bow as trusting, 
 though sorrowing children. On Wednesday, 
 the I2th February, it was supposed the crisis 
 had passed ; and thorugh a slight inflammation 
 in the right lung caused some uneasiness, it 
 appeared to yield to remedies, and she was so 
 far better that she tried to write a few pencil 
 lines to my mother, in which the feeble writing 
 and incoherent words brought to us more for- 
 cibly than anything else, the extreme state of 
 weakness to which she was reduced. One 
 sentence only, except a few words of love was 
 entire, " I felt when this illness began that it 
 would be for the glory of God." The general 
 anxiety was very great. Miss Nightingale, 
 whose affectionate interest in Agnes had been 
 continued through the five years of her hospital 
 work, wrote to my aunt in a letter of anxious 
 inquiry. " I look upon hers as one of the 
 most valuable lives in England in tlie present
 
 396 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 state of the Poor Law and of Workhouse nurs- 
 ing." On Friday, the 14th, my aunt writes, 
 *' The fever has been a very severe one, and her 
 progress is slow but gradual : Wednesday the 
 pulse was 134; yesterday morning 120: last 
 night 116 ; to-day 108 ; the very slight tendency 
 to inflammation on the lung quite subdued; 
 in fact every thing favoih'able, but we must 
 wait patiently on the Lord. I am the happiest 
 of you all, though not allowed to be much with 
 my precious one, but always near. She is 
 calm and patient, always sensible when roused, 
 but sleeps a good deal, and is dull when awake, 
 but always rational in her answers ; 3'esterday, 
 Thursday 13th, she spoke to me of going to 
 Southport when able ; indeed she has the best 
 care, and were she Dr. Gee's child he could 
 not be more anxious ; he does not much look 
 for a very marked crisis in such cases,, but 
 since Tuesday, the nth, the fever has been 
 abating." 
 
 The very night of the day on which we re- 
 ceived this, a telegram came to say most alarm- 
 ing symptoms had set in,— inflammation of both
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 397 
 
 lungs, and we felt there was scarcely a hope. 
 On the 19th, at two o'clock in the afternoon, 
 another telegram brought us the tidings that 
 all was over twelve hours before.' Two days later 
 my aunt wrote the following particulars of Tues- 
 day night, the i8th. " She looks so lovely : 
 the calm yet almost bright expression, so like 
 herself and so little wasted. I think I told 
 you yesterday that the doctors did not wish any 
 one but the nurses to go near her, for fear of 
 setting her mind to work. I was often listen- 
 ing at the door ; in general she was quiet, but 
 the breathing rapid and laboured. I could not 
 hope; and when at 75 p.m. the doctors said 
 the pulse was above 155, it was impossible to 
 anticipate amendment. When Dr. Gee, who 
 for four nights had not left the hospital, lying 
 on a sofa, came at near eleven, he could give 
 no hope, but begged I would go to bed. I had 
 not been long there when Walker called me ; 
 her own nurses with a few others were there; 
 there was no mistaking what the breathing then 
 portended, but when liquid was offered she 
 swallowed it. One of the nurses whispered to
 
 398 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 her, * You'll soon be with Jesus.* She said, 
 * Yes, I'll be better then — .' After some time 
 she opened her eyes, no dulness then ; they 
 looked bright and beautiful ; she looked round 
 as if she knew the faces, then on me with such 
 a loving expression, and ' auntie ' was her 
 last word. The breathing became slower, then 
 longer intervals between ; at last it ceased, and 
 she was with Jesus, Whom she so loved and so 
 faithfully served. Her countenance is the most 
 beautiful I ever saw after life had departed — 
 the bright sunny expression — truly perfect 
 peace ; more than peace, joy." 
 
 I return to Miss Gilpin's letter of recol- 
 lections : — 
 
 *' It is impossible to describe the grief I 
 witnessed at the hospital the following morn- 
 ing. The dear remains looked very lovely, and 
 the room was full of nurses and probationers, 
 w^ho had come in to look at the loved form once 
 more. All was quiet, solemn grief, — I had 
 rather dreaded the removal of the coffin, fear- 
 ing some want of solemnity, but I need not 
 have feared. It was removed the following
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 399 
 
 Friday. I got to the workhouse as early as I 
 could. Mr. Rathbone had sent some men for 
 the necessary work, and all was done so quietly 
 that your dear aunts and I, who were in the 
 little room close to hers, could not hear a word. 
 A beautiful oak coffm, with a great deal of 
 silver about it, and a lovely cross of white 
 camellias fastened on the top. I asked leave 
 for a short time of prayer when all was ready. 
 All the nurses came in, and in that dear room, 
 surrounded by her furniture, pictures, etc., 
 where she and I had so often knelt together, we 
 bowed dov/n before the pitiful Father, Who 
 had recalled our dear one, and Who had caused 
 us to mourn. Your dear aunts prayed, and I 
 prayed, and indeed all hearts I do believe 
 joined in prayer ; it was a time never to be for- 
 gotten. The coffin was carried out into the 
 hall, and we all stood round while it was 
 placed in the case in which it was to cross the 
 Channel. All was very still, even grief was 
 hushed, and though there were many tears 
 there was no sound. I looked up just as the 
 arrangements were complete, and to my great
 
 400 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 surprise, but great interest, I saw landing and 
 stairs lined with people. The poor patients 
 had come out of the different wards, and were 
 looking down on the coffin which held the 
 remains of one who had lived and moved 
 among them as an angel of mercy, comforting 
 body and mind. They felt, and we felt, that 
 they had indeed lost a kind and generous friend 
 who sacrificed her life to her zeal in the cause 
 of God. The workhouse road was also lined 
 with people, but all silent, though many were 
 in tears. It was so solemn, I ceased to regret 
 that the precious remains had been removed. 
 It was better to lay her in her father's grave ; 
 and if her purified and happy spirit had been 
 looking down, it feels to me as if she would 
 quite approve. The hearse and coaches disap- 
 peared, and all was gone of our darling, and we 
 returned to her desolate rooms to weep and 
 pray. Oh, it was a comfort to me to have 
 your dear kind aunts for a while, and I thanked 
 my Heavenly Father for this mitigation of the 
 trial. Now they are gone, and no one knows 
 how empty that crowded hospital is to me.
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 40I 
 
 How often I catch m3^self fancying I see her at 
 the turn of the stairs or in the wards ! But I 
 am reconciled, — I would not have her back. 
 The darling is at rest, and rest for ever, serving 
 her God without weariness.'* 
 
 Close to where the waters of Lough Swilly 
 ripple to the foot of the Ennishowen hills, the 
 little churchyard of Fahan lies in one of the 
 many lovely spots that gem the shore of the 
 lake of shadows. The Gollan rises with its 
 rounded cairn-crowned summit close beside it, 
 — the woods of Glengollan and the Rectory 
 grounds surround it on two sides, and below, 
 the high-road passes, separating it from the 
 sunny meadows of the old much-loved home of 
 Fahan House. Eighteen years before, the 
 father to whom Agnes had been so fondly at- 
 tached was laid in that churchyard, and his 
 grave was re-opened for her on the 25th Fe- 
 bruary, 1868. 
 
 Immediately behind the grave rises the east 
 window of the old church, now a most pic- 
 turesque ruin, veiled with glossy ivy. A few old 
 trees partially conceal it from the road, and
 
 402 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 cast their long shadows over lovely graves 
 around — the graves of the poor — many of whom 
 she had comforted in sorrow, assisted in 
 poverty, visited in sickness, and encouraged in 
 the hour of death. It seems indeed the fit 
 resting-place for her. The mourning in the 
 parish when the news of her death came was 
 great indeed, and few were missing from the 
 crowd, who met the funeral procession as it 
 came from Derry. The schoolmistress, who 
 ■was most sincerely attached to her, wrote to 
 me the following graphic description of the 
 scene. 
 
 * We have just returned from the last home 
 and resting-place of our precious, loving and 
 much-loved friend. It will in a measure gratify 
 you to know that all the people of Fahan, far 
 and near, came out to show and give our last 
 tribute of gratitude to our dear, dear Miss 
 Jones. All the young and old men went to 
 meet her ; the women gathered in the grave- 
 yard near her grave, first the children, then all 
 the young girls of her class, next middle-agej 
 and old women ; your dear friend Mrs. C. at a
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 403 
 
 short distance leaning on her husband's arm. 
 When the solemn toll of the bell struck the ear, 
 it was fearful ; it caused one bitter sob through 
 all there. The hearse came forward to the gate 
 with its heavy plumes ; all was solemn still- 
 ness, then came the coffin with our dear one, 
 carried on the shoulders of the young men of 
 your evening class ; there was one suppressed 
 murmur, * Oh dear.' Then followed a number 
 of clergymen, — then her uncles and cousins, etc., 
 — then the people. Mr. King read the ser- 
 vice ; a beautiful wreath of snowdrops and white 
 primroses twined with ivy and yew from your 
 own old garden was put into the grave on the 
 coffin, with a lovely bunch of violets ; then the 
 little children scattered in snowdrops, monthly 
 roses and spring flowers, — no stranger was 
 allowed to do anything ; the young men of the 
 place put in the clay and gently covered all up. 
 The sorrow and mourning and bitter lamenta- 
 tion are great, but softened by the intense gra- 
 tification that she is laid here." 
 
 Miss Nightingale concludes her beautiful 
 sketch of my dear sister with these words : — 
 
 2l> 2,
 
 404 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 "Let us add living flowers to her grave, 
 ' lilies with full hands,' not fleeting primroses, 
 not dying flowers. Let us bring the work of 
 our hands and our heads and our hearts to 
 finish her work which God has so blessed. 
 Let her not merely rest in peace, but let hers 
 be the life which stirs up to fight the good 
 fight against vice and sin, and misery and 
 wretchedness, as she did, — the call to arms 
 whick she was ever obeying :— 
 
 * The Son of God goes forth to war, 
 Who follows in His train ?' 
 
 Oh, daughters of God, are there so few to 
 answer?" 
 
 I have sometimes feared lest the memoir 
 which I have so imperfectly prepared from 
 some of her letters and journals should in some 
 measure jar against the trumpet note sounded 
 in that eloquent paper, — lest some who were 
 thinking of putting their hand to the work 
 should draw back discouraged at a nearer view 
 of the difficulties to be surmounted, and the 
 battle to be fought. For those who would
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 405 
 
 seek ease and pleasure and enjoyment, this 
 is indeed no path ; — it needs what Agnes had, 
 the single eye to God's glory, the steadfast 
 will to follow His leading, the yearning desire 
 to use every talent He had given in His service. 
 The battle was indeed a hard one — painful to 
 flesh and blood — every nerve quivered, every 
 tender feeling was wrung, — mother, sister, 
 home, these had all to be renounced, and for 
 what ! To live among the lowest and most 
 degraded of human beings, to seek to do them 
 good, physically and morally, and then to die, 
 — as some would say, before her work was 
 done, — never to see success, or what she would 
 call success on earth. But if a name written 
 in heaven — written on the heart of hundreds of 
 God^s poor — written in the annals of all that is 
 most self-sacrificing and self-dcn^oted — written 
 on lives that will ever bear the impress of com- 
 panionship with her, if this be worth having 
 she had this ; and better still, she had what was 
 the only thing she cared for, God's approval 
 and blessing ; and hereafter, " They that be 
 wise shall shine as the brightness of the firma-
 
 406 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 ment, and they that turn many to righteous- 
 ness, as the stars for ever and ever." 
 
 In October, i86g, a tablet was erected in 
 Fahan Church to her memory. It is thus 
 noticed in a local paper. 
 
 Monument to Miss Agnes Elizabeth Jones. 
 
 ^From the 'Londonderry Guardian,' October 21, 1869.) 
 
 *'A very elegant monument is in course of 
 erection in the Parish Church at Fahan, to 
 perpetuate the memory of the late Miss Agnes 
 Ehzabeth Jones. That pious and philanthropic 
 lady was the daughter of the late Colonel Jones, 
 and spent her youth at Fahan. She subse- 
 quently removed to Liverpool, where, actuated 
 by feelings of noble and Christ-like compassion 
 for the sufferings of her fellow-creatures, and 
 disregarding the comforts which her position in 
 life afforded her, she bestowed much of her 
 time in tending on the sick in the hospital, and 
 affording consolation and comfort to the afflicted
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 407 
 
 and the dying. Intrepid and indefatigable in 
 her labours of love and kindness, she was 
 seized by fever herself while ministering to the 
 wants of some poor fever-stricken patients, and 
 cut off all too soon for her noble work, and 
 while still comparatively 3^oung. She died in 
 Liverpool on the 19th of February last year, 
 and was interred in the quiet rural Burial 
 Ground of Fahan, in the neighbourhood of the 
 picturesque scenes amongst which her earlier 
 years had been spent. A notice of her life and 
 labours, her death and burial, appeared in our 
 columns shortly after her lamented demise. 
 The people of Fahan, revering her memory, 
 and wishing to perpetuate it -by some enduring 
 monument, subscribed for this purpose, and the 
 result is that a very handsome monument is 
 now in course of erection in the Parish Church. 
 Had additional subscriptions been required 
 they could easily enough have been obtained 
 elsewhere, but the people of Fahan wished to 
 defray all the cost of the monument themselves. 
 It consists of a tablet of pure Carrara marble, 
 supported by brackets, and capped by a moulded
 
 408 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 
 
 cornice, which bears the following inscrip- 
 tion: — ''The Master is come, and calleth for 
 thee — John vi. 28. Erected by the Minister 
 and people of Fahan, and their Bishop, in 
 memory of Agnes Elizabeth Jones, formerly of 
 this Parish ; Born loth November, 1832 ; cut 
 off by fever, igth February, 1868.'^ The Scrip- 
 tural quotation is in gilt letters, the rest of the 
 inscription being in black. Over this, in bold 
 relief, leaning on a broken column, is a female 
 figure representing grief. The background is 
 of black marble, which, from the contrast, 
 gives a fine effect to the pure white statuary 
 marble. The design and execution of the 
 monument were e^ntrusted to Mr. Robert Kell, 
 sculptor, of this city. Underneath the inscrip- 
 tion already quoted are the following beautiful 
 lines, the composition, we understand, of the 
 Lord Bishop of Derry : — 
 
 " Alone with Christ in this sequestered place, 
 Thy sweet soul learn'd its quietude of grace ; 
 On sufferers waiting in this vale of ours, 
 Thy gifted touch was trained to finer powers. 
 Therefore, when Death, O Agnes ! came to thee — 
 Not in the cool breath of our silver sea,
 
 LIVERPOOL WORKHOUSE. 409 
 
 But in the city hospital's hot ward, 
 A gentle worker for the eentle Lord- 
 Proudly, as men heroic a^h:^ claim, 
 We ask'd to have thy fevcr-stricken frame, 
 And lay it in our grass, bside our foam, 
 Till Christ the Healer call His healers home.
 
 APPENDIX. 1
 
 APPENDIX— (A.) 
 
 ANOTHER GONE BEFORE.* 
 ** And when one soldier falls, let ten pursue his way.** 
 
 ON one sad day in last February a very dear friend 
 of our Mission took leave of earth for Heaven — 
 " sweet Agnes Jones,'* "Dear Agnes/'admired and loved 
 by all who knew her, died of typhus fever in her rooms 
 in the Liverpool Workhouse Infirmary, where she had 
 for three years voluntarily secluded herself from home, 
 friends, and family as entirely as any foreign missionary, 
 for the constant personal superintendence of that large 
 institution, and the training of its paid nurses according 
 to the plans of Miss Nightingale, who speaks of her 
 loss as " irreparable." 
 
 At the early age of thirty-five her self-sacrificing 
 work is done, though its fruit and its example will long 
 survive her. Her personal friends, with many a sigh 
 for their own loss, had yet endeavoured cheerfully to 
 resign her to her vacation, which was evidently that of 
 nursing. 
 
 * From 'The Missing Link Magazine * for April, 1868.
 
 414 APPENDIX. 
 
 She was one of those serene, unselfish, and helpful 
 women who seem to be lorn nurses. There are many 
 who can look back upon her from the time when, in 
 her own bright home in the North of Ireland, she gave 
 her days to tend the poor ; setting off in her vigorous 
 health and strength — whether sunbeams shone or rain 
 poured down — over mountain and moor to the lonely 
 cabins, where her visit was looked for like a ray of light 
 beaming on body and soul 3 and from those walks, 
 which would have annihilated most young ladies, she 
 would often return amid drenching showers, as fresh as 
 a rose, to the social evening circle — ever devoted to 
 the service and pleasure of all around her. 
 
 We love to remember her in her home at Fahan, by 
 the side of Lough Swilly, or among the glorious rocks 
 of Port Rush, or as she guided us over the wide sea- 
 floors of the Giant's Causeway 3 but we knew her 
 letter, and the memories of her are dearer, as in after 
 days she threaded the close courts and alleys of the 
 back streets of our great city, when, for nearly a year, 
 she look voluntary share in the toils and cares and joys 
 of our London Bible Missions. She put aside all her 
 passionate love for the lakes and mountains of her own 
 green isle to yield herself to the service of God among 
 brick walls and interminable houses, and we thought
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 415 
 
 she received a silent baptism of lire in the times of the 
 Irish revivals, which sent her forth from the quiet 
 retirement she best loved with fresh purpose to com- 
 fort Christ's poor and to minister to them in their 
 afflictions. She came into contact with our Missions 
 in the year i85i, and was well known to many a 
 Bible woman in Whitechapel and Westminster. For 
 two months she took the whole charge of the Mission 
 during the absence of her friend in Switzerland, and in 
 the volume of the 'Book and its Missions' for 1862 (now 
 out of print) are many modest details of her loving 
 superintendence of the Dormitory Houses (p. 20) j 
 also a valuable paper on * Mothers' Meetings, by one 
 who has attended many of them ' (p. 128) 5 also jottings 
 from her visits in the districts, entitled 'All Round the 
 Abbey ' and ' Walks in Drury Lane on New Year's 
 Day.' From the latter we reprint a few details, which 
 show not only the writer's gift for description, but the 
 living sympathy with which she went about all her 
 work : — 
 
 " JFalhs in Drury Lane on New Years Day. 
 
 " I went this morning with our good Bible-woman 
 to visit her district. She had a message to take to an 
 artificial flower-maker, who attends her Motliers' Meet-
 
 4l6 APPENDIX. 
 
 ing. She lives in a narrow, dirty back street, where 
 too many closed shutters told of people still in bed, 
 after ten o'clock in the morning. 
 
 "We met our friend in the street, and followed her 
 into her poor little room. A wretched baby in her 
 arms and another little fellow, whose large head be- 
 spoke disease, composed her family -, the husband and 
 father had gone out to seek work, and soon the old 
 grandmother tottered in. It was difficult to decide 
 the question whether this often fireless home could be 
 more comfortable for her than the workhouse. Here 
 she can get a little tea when the pence are to be had, 
 there she would only have gruel j here she may at will 
 rise or spend the day in bed, there she must be up at 
 six o'clock summer and winter j here she has her 
 daughter and her liberty. These things she has weighed, 
 and chosen to remain as she is. 
 
 "We wonder how fingers can make those pretty 
 flowers, so fresh and clean, in this poor room, and we 
 wonder, when wire and paper are bought, what the 
 profit is ? But we have yet more important questions. 
 It is pleasant to hear that she went last night to the 
 evening service, that she was impressed by Mr. Gar- 
 ratt's after words to a few poor women who like her- 
 self remained behind, — words which bemg ^ only for 
 
 2 H
 
 APPENDIX. 417 
 
 themselves,' came home to them as individuals, and 
 made her hope that as the year closed to lier with 
 spiritual blessing, so in the new year that blessing might 
 more and more be hers. 
 
 " Her husband and she sat together to see the new 
 year in, reading alternately verses from God's Word, 
 he helping her in her difficulties j for reading is to her 
 a new art, and taught by the loving care of the Bible 
 woman, who goes again and again till she finds the 
 leisure moments, for the lesson is cheerfully given as it 
 is gratefully received, 
 
 *^ The flower-maker told us of the sad state of her 
 brother-in-law, and we went to visit km. In 3 poor 
 room, whence, by degrees, every necessary piece of 
 furniture is going into pledge (and where we found 
 them at breakfast, cooked at a fire made from an old 
 chair), sat this poor man and his wife. Two neatly 
 packed parcels of wood were in readiness for the wife 
 to seek customers for, and they were looking forward 
 to the halfpence which would be gained if she were 
 successful. I asked to see his bad leg, and it was sad 
 to find a sore with nothing to keep it from the woollen 
 stocking, and worse still to hear that even when he 
 goes for surgical advice he is sent home with a box of 
 ointment in his hand, it is true, but with no dressing on
 
 4i8 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 the wound, even when the probing has caused it to 
 bleed profusely. (We are always thankful to have 
 supplies of rag sent to the Mission.) 
 
 "Another visit showed in what an extraordinary 
 manner God may cause even a hardened sinner to 
 feel that * He is love/ 
 
 " Opposite a small fire, on one side of his bed, sat an 
 old soldier. His whole appearance was striking. A 
 tall, finely-made figure, and a noble-looking head, with 
 a very remarkable expression of countenance, prepared 
 one for something uncommon, but we scarcely ex- 
 pected to find in him such an amount of Scripture 
 knowledge, especially as he is blind. 
 
 ** His eyes were shaded, and one side of his brow 
 much swelled. The Bible woman expressed her aston- 
 ishment to see him up. Days and nights of intense 
 agony, of pains in the head, are appointed to him, and 
 he must bear them alone -, yet not alone, for Jesus is 
 with him, and to this he gave very remarkable testi. 
 mony. He spoke of spiritual things as if they were to 
 him indeed realities. 
 
 " He is dependent for many kind offices on the 
 daughter of an early friend. Side by side in many 
 a battle-field her father and he had fought, and, as he 
 
 2 H ^
 
 APPENDIX. 419 
 
 proudly tells, helped to change the 28th Regiment 
 into Her Majesty's Grenadier Guards. The woman 
 says he has been for years more than a father to her, 
 and tenderly does she repay his care. She daily comes 
 to do for him all he needs, sacrificing often half a day's 
 work if he needs her more than usual. 
 
 " We asked, in reply to his expression that God 
 loved him even at Waterloo, how long he had known 
 that love ; and then, having answered * Two years,' he 
 began to tell us that it was not till the sudden deatJi of 
 his wife, near three years since, that he began to think 
 of that love of God to himself. He had been some- 
 times employed as a shoemaker, but his failing sight 
 prevented his earning much. He and his wife were in 
 want, and they remembered that two shillings owing 
 to them was unpaid. The wife started for Vauxhall 
 Bridge, over which their debtor must pass on his way 
 home, to remind him of the debt. 
 
 "The husband detailed how far he had gone with 
 her, and how they parted as Big Ben was striking five 
 o'clock, she promising to return by eight, and chargin<T 
 him to watch the kettle of bones and to keep up tlie 
 fire, and hour after hour passed, and she came not. 
 She never was out late j she was always sober, — what 
 could be the cause ? Somehow he thought she must
 
 420 APPENDIX. 
 
 have got into trouble, and he sought her at the police 
 station. No tidings, and then he went on to the 
 bridge. He asked the waterman; there was no mis- 
 taking the description, but he could not tell the sad 
 tale, and referred him to another person. Then he 
 heard how she had been seen standing: watchinsf near 
 the bridge, how all at once she fell, and had been 
 taken to the hospital ; his heart guessed the rest. 
 Almost by force he procured admission to the dead- 
 house. On a long table lay a form covered with a 
 sheet, — that he knew was his Maggy. He saw where 
 the head had been opened, but was thankful the coun- 
 tenance was unchanged j and then the surgeon told 
 him that the woman rnust have been a sober and steady 
 character, as such and such symptoms were wanting, 
 and that death was caused by apoplexy. The poor 
 husband thought, perhaps caused by that cold stand 
 upon the bridge to wait for the two shillings. 
 
 "The only comfort he sought was the recovery of 
 the remains, for which he had but forty-eight hours* 
 space. He inqu'.red about funeral expenses ; they 
 seemed far beyond him, but the family for which he 
 worked being absent, the housekeeper collected among 
 the servants lys. ; and this, with the voluntary assist- 
 ance of neighbours in removing the body, enabled him
 
 APPENDIX. 421 
 
 to bury bis dead, — and, reader, it taught him his first 
 lesson of trust in God. These details he found it 
 hard to give, but he seemed to like to dwell on the 
 ^ninutest point. When he could say no more, we 
 read and prayed, and on my remarking I feared we 
 had tired him, he answered, ' No ; he could listen to 
 such conversation for hours,' and so we parted. 
 
 *' In a court where even the Clergyman, beloved as 
 he is in the district, has been insulted, the Bible woman 
 has access to many, and has canvassed every room 
 concerning the possession of the Scriptures. In one, a 
 savoury smell of dinner met us as the door opened, and 
 there sat, so hap[)ily and comfortably, a man with his 
 wife and children, enjoying a well-cooked dinner. 
 Who would have guessed that three months ago that 
 woman was scarcely ever scjber ? She has been ill, and 
 feels the sickness was God's enforcing of tlie lessons 
 He had begun to teach her at the Mothers' class. 
 
 " In another house v/e found a poor woman making 
 trousers; her thumb was inflamed, and the work stilf, 
 and often her teeth had to pull through the needle; a 
 deaf and dumb girl worked beside her. The time of 
 another is fully occupied taking home work and 
 waiting for more, and of the two other children a little
 
 422 APPENDIX. 
 
 girl is paid 6d. nightly for acting at Covent Garden 
 Theatre in the ' Shells of the Ocean,' out of one of 
 which she half crawls in her long green dress, and 
 seems to swim. A little fellow, looking only four 
 years old, reads most beautifully, and repeats hymn 
 after hymn, which the Bible woman gives him. The 
 mother is not a widow, but a deserted wife, and has no 
 parish relief." 
 
 In order to give an idea of what this beloved one 
 had accomplished at Liverpool, we can do nothing 
 better than refer to a Resolution passed by the Select 
 Vestry of that town at their meeting on the 4th of 
 March last, in which they record '* their grateful sense 
 of the devoted, self-sacrificing, and faithful services of 
 the late Miss Agnes Jones, as Lady Superintendent of 
 nurses in the Liverpool Workhouse Hospital, and to 
 convey to her family the expression of their deep 
 sympathy in their irreparable loss. The Vestry feel 
 that they can have little hope of again finding one who 
 will combine sucn a religious sense of duty with such 
 rare power of influencing, under much difficulty, those 
 over whom she was placed. They trust, however, 
 that the friends who are lamenting the removal of 
 Miss Jones may be comforted by the assurance that it
 
 APPENDIX 423 
 
 is the earnest aim of the Vestry to continue the work 
 she so nobly initiated, and in the carrying out of which 
 she sacrificed her life ; and they believe that in doing 
 so they will be greatly assisted by those who, in work- 
 ing with her, have imbibed a portion of her spiriL" 
 
 She was most truly spoken of at that official in ee ting 
 as "so like a ministering angel," which she was even 
 in her calm, sweet, personal appearance. It was wit- 
 nessed by gentlemen of all shades of religious opinion 
 *' that no one could come into communication with 
 her without perceiving that she possessed rare endow- 
 ments especially adapted for the performance of those 
 laborious, in some respects delicate, and in all respects 
 most trying duties which she voluntarily took upon 
 herself. There was force of character combined with 
 tenderness of nature and gentleness of manner, and her 
 quiet energy, patience, and perseverance seemed inex- 
 haustible. She did not take up the work as a refuge 
 from sorrow or employment for unoccupied affection, 
 but hers was a perfect sacrifice of a life surrounded by 
 affection and all that could make it happy. She served 
 a perfect Master, and left all to follow Him." 
 
 The Chairman of the Nursing Commitiee, Mr. 
 Satchell, observed that —
 
 424 APPENDIX. 
 
 *' During the first year of the experiment the attempt 
 was made, with her hearty concurrence, to raise a 
 number of able-bodied pauper women, by paying them 
 and employing them as assistant nurses. The drunken- 
 ness and unreliabihty of these women added greatly to 
 the difficulties and trials of introducing the new system, 
 but drew from her no complaint or evidence of discou- 
 ragement. 
 
 - *' The pressure of sickness on the hospital accommoda- 
 tion of the parish during the last two winters added an 
 amount of difficulty and labour which at last overcame 
 her physical strength. Such, however, was the power 
 of her character over her fellow-workers, that her 
 influence still remained to carry on her work ; and a 
 lady who was appointed to assist her, coming from one 
 of the wealthiest and best-arranged hospitals in England, 
 and going round the hospital for the first time unex- 
 pectedly, late in the evening, and some weeks after the 
 nurses had been deprived of superintendence and left 
 to work on as their sense of love and duty to her 
 should direct, w^as delighted with the cleanliness of the 
 wards, and with finding every one at her post, and the 
 work done as if under the eye of the most vigilant and 
 efficient Superintendent. Her nurses had been inspired 
 with the spirit of her own faithfulness.
 
 APPENDIX. 425 
 
 *' From this we may hope," said the speaker, " that 
 though her bodily presence is removed from us, her 
 work and hibour of love will endure. It remains our 
 duty to see that site has not lived and died in vain. I 
 believe the language of the Bible, slightly transposed, 
 will give you her real character : — ' When the ear 
 heard her, then it blessed her j when the eye saw her, 
 then it gave witness to her j for she delivered the poor 
 that cried, the fatherless, and him that had none to 
 help him. The blessing of him that was ready to 
 perish came upon her, and she caused the widow's 
 heart to sing for joy. She put on righteousness, and it 
 clothed her; her judgment was a robe and a diadem. 
 She was a comfort to the poor, and the cause which 
 she knew not she searched out.' " 
 
 Another speaker, Mr. W. Rathbone, remarked as 
 follows : — 
 
 **To a lady coming out of family life to a place like 
 that workhouse, with its isolation and restraints, and 
 the vast mass of misery and degradation around her, it 
 might easily be supposed that the result would have 
 been depressing. She was one keenly to feel all these 
 things, yet never seemed depressed. On the contrary, 
 as those gentlemen who attended her funeral service 
 heard from the chaplain of that establishment, her dis-
 
 426 APPENDIX. 
 
 tingu/iohing characteristic to the outward eye was one 
 of cheerfulness and happiness. During her residence 
 here, whatever difficulties and discouragements arose, 
 her constant expression was that she had never been so 
 happy in her life. He trusted that this might have an 
 effect upon others who had a similar call, that the 
 exercise of those faculties with which God may endow 
 them is to a human being, and most of all to a true- 
 hearted woman, the supreme of human happiness." 
 
 It is most delightful to preserve this official testi- 
 mony, for it would never have been known from herself 
 how truly dear Agnes had carried out real Bible-work 
 in her hospital life, and that nursing was in her hand a 
 spiritual work, as well as a work for the body. Her 
 nurses, trained by her, continually testify that hers will 
 be no ^'starless crown." They believe her simple 
 Bible-reading was blessed to many. She never ei:ktered 
 into controversy, but simply sought to lead sinners to 
 Jesus. 
 
 We could have wished (how vain are after wishes !) 
 that our dear friend had relaxed in time, and still 
 piessed forward to as earnest, but perhaps a more 
 h2Llthful form of devotedness, in her own line of 
 things. It was an old and favourite speculation wiih
 
 APPENDIX. 427 
 
 US, when thrown together in the Bible Mission, that 
 she should train a corps of Christian nurses in London, 
 as a branch of the Bible work, to live, not in a Home, 
 but out amongst the poor, just as our Bible women do, 
 but with disciplined faculties to watch over and alleviate 
 sickness j and it was thought that these nurses must 
 certainly become responsible to a separate headship 
 from their sisters, the Bible women. 
 
 Ten years have passed away, and no such hope has 
 been accomplished, during which time we may truly 
 add that such Protestant and Christian nurses have been 
 more than ever wanted, and during which, also, the 
 self-denying servants of an exclusive party have been 
 ever pressing in to occupy the field ; but no door has 
 opened, in God's providence, to imitate their zeal and 
 cope with their error, in our own particular sphere, till 
 the recent offer made us of a " Mother House" as the 
 new centre for such a movement. Then followed 
 speedily unexpected facilities for the proposed further 
 training of already tried and proved Bible women in 
 various London hospitals, of which we are now con- 
 tinually taking advantage. 
 
 Our full attention had not been roused to the subject 
 till, week after week, we heard that a Bible woman 
 was shut out from some house of sorrow where, with
 
 428 APPENDIX. 
 
 the words of God, she had entered in, because the sick 
 child had been cared for skilfully or the wounded limb 
 bandaged by some intolerant Sister of Charity, who 
 had said, " I will do this no more unless you promise 
 to have nothing further to say to that Bible-woman;'* 
 and this is calling forth the need for nurses who love 
 the Bible, whose tender care for suffering is caught 
 from the yet more tender heart of Christ, — of Christ 
 who suffers with His people, and heals their souls as 
 they suffer with Him, — who can whisper the word to 
 their Master for blessing on every care that they 
 bestow, and who will do their duty for His sake. 
 There are no rules in the world's wide hospital that 
 can prevent this blessed ministration to loth body and 
 soul, and in this path we beheve we shall find only a 
 fresh kind of Bible-work, requiring, it may be, a new 
 tact and a wisdom which God will supply to those who 
 undertake it. 
 
 Alas ! the earthly friend to whom we should espe- 
 cially have turned for sympathy and experience in the 
 new path is "gone home" to the world where there is 
 more pain. May God find her a true successor ! May 
 her mantle of devotedness and of purpose in life fall 
 upon us 3 and while she sings the song before the 
 throne, may we too join in the song of praise, and 
 trust in the Master who lives for ever.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 429 
 
 " 14, Maryland Street, Liverpool, Oct. 28, 1868. 
 
 ''My dear Miss Smyth. — You will not impute it 
 to any carelessness that I have not before this replied 
 to your letter. You know well what it is to have 
 duties which admit of no postponement ; and I will, 
 without more apology, call to mind my recollections of 
 our dear Agnes. The first time I saw her was in the 
 sitting-room of the Kaiserswerth Institution for Dea- 
 conesses. My sister and I had just arrived from Lon- 
 don, and making friends with the sisters, were de- 
 lighted to see a fellow-country-woman. She had 
 heard that we were come, and hastened to welcome 
 us. From that day (until we took our last look of 
 her in the Liverpool workhouse) we were constant 
 friends. 
 
 " We found little time in the sisterhood to enjoy 
 each other's company. We all met after breakfast for 
 prayers at half-past six o'clock in the morning, and 
 then each sister set off to her post or ' station,' as they 
 call it. We generally had our meals together, when 
 we had a pleasant time for a few short moments. 
 Even then a book was often read aloud ; so that there 
 was not much time for conversation. We also often 
 met in chapel, and on our way ihither exchanged a
 
 430 APPENDIX. 
 
 word. We all went there at half-past three in the 
 afternoon for meditation and prayer, if we could snatch 
 the time. We felt a clinging to one another, with our 
 English Bibles, among all the foreign, though kind 
 women. We got to think of ourselves as three drawn 
 greatly together, and often has this feeling come over 
 us again in Liverpool. It seemed always a help to 
 think of one another working here. 
 
 " It was when a spare hour came sometimes before 
 we retired for the night, that we had time for a chat. 
 Sister Agnes' s little room was near our rooms, and 
 often a tap told us at ten o'clock that she was looking 
 for us. How we chatted ! each eager to tell the ad- 
 ventures in the different posts, — one telling of her 
 patients in the sick boys' ward, and another of her ]:)ro- 
 gress amongst the insane ladies. And many a hearty 
 laugh we had over our difficulties. Of course, there 
 were many things which were strange to us in our 
 new life. I think, my dear Miss Smyth, you little 
 guess the privations and occupations your dear niece 
 so lightly went through in her training, — far greater to 
 her than to the German sister. But no one could be 
 acquainted with her without knowing that she had 
 learnt to ' endure hardness ' as a good soldier of Jesus 
 Christ. You would have wondered to see how the
 
 APPENDIX. 431 
 
 desire to fit herself for being useful to the poor, had 
 enabled her to conquer all fastidiousness. In all my 
 acquaintance with her, I never knew her to shrink 
 from a duty because of its repulsiveness. On the 
 contrary, I have known her to perform offices for the 
 suffering, which some mothers or sisters would almost 
 draw back from performing for children, or brothers 
 and sisters. And she has always done these things 
 as a matter of course, without affectation, merely as 
 being in the way of duty. She had, as much as any 
 woman I ever knew, got over the feeling that work is 
 unlady-like. Everything that could help the afflicted 
 and bring honour to her dear Lord, she gladly under- 
 took. There never was a question as to whether the 
 work was what she would choose, and, alas ! there 
 never was a question if the work was be)'ond her 
 strength. Whatever there was to be done in Kaisers- 
 werth, or in the workhouse in Liverpool, she would try 
 to do it. And more than this, she has done gi-eat 
 work, greater than many who liave lived longer, and, 
 perhaps, she does not now agree with us in regretting 
 this self-forgetfulness. Perhaps the spectacle of an 
 enthusiasm which was unable to count the cost is some 
 compensation for work cut short, for a life taken from 
 this earth, where the plaintive cry of pain seems to bid
 
 432 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 it Stay to solace it. It cannot be that the example, a 
 refined lady giving herself thus to the poor for Christ's 
 sake, will go for nothing. My sister and I were in the 
 habit of taking young ladies to spend a few hours with 
 Miss Jones, being convinced that it could not but have 
 a powerful influence for good upon them, to come 
 into contact with such a life. And it is something to 
 tell you that we always felt ourselves happier in our 
 work from being with her. Last Christmas she had 
 planned that we should spend it together. This my 
 sister and I were not able to arrange. So her usual 
 messenger to us. Nurse Walker, came again for us 
 on New Year's Eve. How little did we think it was 
 the last time we should meet her in health ! What had 
 not her love and ingenuity done with the dwelling of 
 the paupers ? Everywhere were texts in cheerful co- 
 lours, bidding even these prisoners of hope take cou- 
 rage. She had got quantities of flowers, decorating 
 every ward and wall and doorway. We found our 
 dear friend in the midst of sick women and children^ 
 all of whom she had gathered round a Christmas-tree. 
 This was as beautiful and gay as if the Kaisers werth 
 sisters had made it. Indeed the whole scene — Sister 
 Agnes loaded with presents for every one of the poor 
 children, the sick, even those unable to walk carried
 
 APPENDIX. 433 
 
 in — so reminded us of Germany, among die deacon- 
 esses, that I said to her, ' We only want Pastor FUed- 
 ner now.' 
 
 " I never felt more drawn to her than when I saw 
 her thus in the midst of the poor ; and in an unusual 
 mood of tenderness I took her hand in mine and ca- 
 ressed her, saying, how proud I was of her, and how 
 pleasing to our dear Lord was this sight. I am often 
 glad since that I gave way to this impulse of affection, 
 for she was unconscious of our sad looks when we next 
 saw her. Oh, how sad did Sarah and I find it to go 
 continually to hear only heavier reports ! The porter 
 at the gate came out always if there was any change 
 for the better, to tell us the good news. And as we 
 came away we were constantly stopped to know ' How 
 was the lady to-night?' asked in softened tones by 
 poor fellows that one would hardly think had much 
 feeling for anything. They knew at least their loss. 
 I need not dwell on their sorrow, no one knows it bet- 
 ter than yourself. How she is missed in that house 
 where she did so much to fight against the despair and 
 misery among which she chose to dwell ; and it should 
 be seen to be understood ! I assure you the thought 
 has come over me, when spending some time with her, 
 that almost every one liad failed in life. That all the
 
 434 APPENDIX. 
 
 plans of these men and women had turned out to be 
 mistakes ; that to many, to nearly all, there was noth- 
 ing in this life worth living for, and no life in Christ 
 which v/ould reach over and conquer death. This 
 'thought of their utter failure has sometimes chilled me 
 to a horror, and I have gone so far sometimes as to 
 desire for Agnes a more hopeful sphere of work. I 
 have grudged her health and hope to be merged in 
 their death and despair, and have wished she might 
 be among those who would yield a return of lives 
 reclaimed and renewed. But it is all over now, and 
 we will beheve all is well over, and that this was her 
 work. 
 
 '*I remain, with love to your sister, 
 "My dear Miss Smyth, 
 
 "Yours very affectionately, 
 
 "Mary Myles. 
 
 "I send two of Agnes' s letters. Please send them 
 back."
 
 APPENDIX— (B.) 
 
 KAISERSWERTH, THE TRAINING-SCHOOL OF FLORENCB 
 NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 THE morning in June, 1853, which we had fixed 
 upon for our excursion to Kaiserswerth, was dark 
 and louring. We rose early, howevp*-, and when about 
 6 o'clock our friend ana guide, Mr. G., entered, breakfast 
 was nearly over. The usual salutations were succeeded 
 by a discussion as to the prudence of making our pro- 
 posed journey on such a dubious morning; but we finaUy 
 concluded that as the rain had not yet come on, we 
 should set out. Soon afterwards we were in the train 
 on our way to Cologne. To visit this ancient town was 
 not our object; still, while waiting for the Diisseldorf 
 train, we visited the far-famed cathedral. Suffice it to 
 say, that in the building itself we found much to 'n- 
 terest, in the interior much to sadden. Soon after- 
 wards we crossed the river, and started for the next 
 station. Here, on our arrival, we did aot find the
 
 436 APPENDIX. 
 
 omnibus we had expected to meet, and therefore were 
 obhged to accomplish our journey on foot. This ne- 
 cessitated a shortening of our inspection of the insti- 
 tution described beneath; but the details supplied re- 
 specting it were partly gathered on the occasion of a 
 subsequent and longer visit. 
 
 Before we enter the Deaconess Institution of Kai- 
 serswerth, let us speak of its origin and object. We 
 had become acquainted with both but a short time pre- 
 viously, while spending the month of May in Paris, 
 where annual religious assemblies are held, something 
 of the nature of the Dublin April meetings. We nad 
 attended several of them 3 amongst others, one on 
 behalf of the Paris Deaconesses, held in the institution, 
 in the Rue de Reuilly. .A subsequent visit to this so 
 greatly interested us, as to inspire the desire of seeing 
 the parent institution at Kaiserswerth on the Rhine. 
 
 It was founded about thirty years ago by the Pastor 
 Fliedner, its present head. At the age of twenty he had 
 been appointed pastor of the little weaving village of 
 Kaiserswerth. A subsequent failure of the proprietor of 
 the place involved the whole population in ruin. Pen- 
 niless themselves, they could no longer support their 
 young pastor, with whom they would willingly have 
 shared their last morsel. He was reluctant to leave his
 
 APPENDIX. 437 
 
 post, but his only means of support having failed, he liad 
 noclioice. Followed by many prayers and blessings, he 
 left his people in order to seek, m ClirisLian liberality, 
 help for the htlle flock. Germany was traversed, and 
 an unseen agency led him to England. Here was to 
 be sown the seed of that work of faith, the Deaconess 
 Institutions, which now shakes its blossoms over many 
 lands. 
 
 Mrs. Fry spoke to the pastor, of poor female pri- 
 soners. He heard of her efforts among them, and his 
 heart yearned to imitate her example. Soon after- 
 wards he returned to Kaiserswerth, bearing to his 
 people the gifts of their fellow Christians. The lesson 
 learnt hi England was not lost. Such an opportunity 
 as he sought was soon afforded him. Two young wo- 
 men having been discharged from the neighbouring 
 prison, their friends would not receive them ; their 
 former employers also were turned against them. In 
 the hearts of the pastor and his wife alone did they find 
 sympathy. In the pastor's garden was an old summer- 
 house, and here he lodged his penitents. With their own 
 hands, this faithful clergyman and his wife conveyed 
 to them their food ; and under their own eyes em- 
 ployed them to work in the garden, safe from contami- 
 nating influences, and protected trora the temptations
 
 4o8 APPENDIX. 
 
 of pov'erty or scorn. When the numbers of such 
 penitents increased, a friend came to assist. Then arose 
 the thought that if others would but help, an impor- 
 tant work might be done. In the early ages of the 
 Church, pious women had thus devoted themselves to 
 God's service, not as a means for their own salvation, but 
 to bring forth the fruits of faith. 
 
 Kaiserswerth was, in former times, an island, which 
 derived its name from having been a gift of the Emperor 
 Charlemagne, as the site of a monastery. 
 
 The few houses it contains were taken one by one as 
 required. These are now, the pastor's house, (for long 
 ago he relinquished his parochial charge, and devoted 
 himself to the Institution), the orphans' and teachers' 
 schools, lodging-houses, halls and kitchens. An addi- 
 tion in the rear towards the garden and river, is the 
 present home of the penitents. V/hen the fame of 
 Kaiserswerth reached royal ears, the late king granted 
 a building opposite, (formerly a home for retired sol- 
 diers) for an hospital. At a little distance, in a garden, 
 is a new building, the lunatic asylum. The Institution, 
 as a whole, contains upwards of three hundred inhabit- 
 ants. Of these, at the time of our visit, about twenty 
 were deaconesses and thirty novices, but the numbers 
 necessarily vary. 
 
 The deaconess comes to the pastor with high certifi-
 
 APPENDIX. 439 
 
 cates as to character. He examines her motives, dis- 
 covers whether any duties require her presence at home 
 — for to these he always gives the first place — and even 
 the deaconess must, at the call of her parents, return to 
 them. Should no such claims exist, hou'^ever, she is 
 received as a novice. As such she goes from one de- 
 partment of the work to another. Under the super- 
 intending deaconess, she spends a short time in the 
 orphan-house, the training-schools, the hospitals, and 
 the asylums. Thus she learns the duties of each de- 
 partment. She has also learned meanwhile something 
 of the compounding of medicines, sick cookery, the 
 general management of the Institution, and the art of 
 visiting the poor. All are taught to feel that it is not 
 the amount or the greatness of the work done which 
 meets with the approval of their Heavenly Father, but 
 that His eyes are open to tlie most trivial action done 
 out of love to Him. Ihis is the spirit of the pastor, and 
 he seeks to instil it into the hearts of all. 
 
 Perhaps his personal character and that of Madame 
 F. should have been sooner alluded to. In many of 
 the rooms we saw a print representing a dying female, 
 with the inscription underneath, " Rien que le renon- 
 cement." These were the dying words of the first 
 Madame Fliedner, the foundress of the Institution
 
 440 APPENDIX. 
 
 The pastor married again. Madame F. is a wonderful 
 woman. Who could guess that the kind, motherly- 
 person you saw walking about, with her knitting, or 
 sitting in the garden, shelling peas for the evening 
 meal, knows the history, character, disposition, and taste 
 of every individual inmate of that great establishment. 
 Every deaconess comes to her for counsel and direc- 
 tion 3 every difficulty is submitted to her, from the 
 question whether potatoes or beans are to be the staple 
 vegetable for the ensuing week ; what means are to be 
 used with some refractory or neglected orphan ; what 
 deaconesses are best fitted to establish a branch institu- 
 tion in some other and distant region. Never is she or 
 her husband found bustling through the various depart- 
 ments j the quiet evening walk with the pastor, the 
 short consultation with Madame, unfold the characters 
 and reveal the feeHngs of the community. Both have 
 a peculiar talent for government; the former has quick 
 
 insight into character. 
 
 A very remarkable feature in the Institution is the 
 chain of responsibility. Each deaconess is supreme, 
 and apparently despotic in her own department. Each 
 is trained to be capable of establishing and governing a 
 similar institution in any part of the world ; yet each 
 experiences the controlling influence of a master mind,
 
 APPENDIX. 441 
 
 and steadily adheres to the rigid discipline of sovereign 
 authority. The novices are the pastor's peculiar care. 
 Twice a week he gives them a course of instruction, 
 which he also pursues when they become deaconesses. 
 "To persons in such a state of mind, what passages of 
 Scripture are most applicable on such occasions ?" etc. 
 Thus he questions. In his own practical and simple 
 manner he enforces their duties and suggests the true 
 motive. Thus are the novices trained for a period ex- 
 tending from one to three years. Then, if there be an 
 unanimous testimony to their zeal and love, and if the 
 ■pastor and Madame F. approve, they, on an appointed 
 day, in the presence of other deaconesses, dedicate and 
 devote themselves to the service of God (as in our con- 
 firmation rite). They bind themselves as deaconesses 
 for a period of live years. They are, nevertheless, at 
 any time free to leave the Institution, paying, hov/ever, 
 a certain sum for expenses incurred while there. ■ They 
 are free at any time to marry 3 and, if required by pa- 
 rents, etc., the pastor himself urges their return home. 
 In any of these cnses, however, they are expected to 
 do good, as far as in them lies, to the souls and bodies 
 of their friends and neighbours, bearing in their lives 
 and conversation, the impress of those who have de- 
 voted themselves wholly to tlie service of God. 
 
 2 E 2
 
 442 APPENDIX. 
 
 Kaiserswerth is the parent, but it is not the only- 
 deaconess institution which exists. As opportunity has 
 afforded, the pastor has sent forth deaconesses, two 
 and two. One hundred and twenty deaconesses are 
 thus dispersed throughout Europe, and some parts of 
 Asia. There are large and flourishing institutions at 
 Paris, Strasburg, and Jerusalem ; and in many other 
 places there are smaller establishments of the same 
 kind. One at Smyrna has been lately founded. The 
 French residents there wished to have educational ad- 
 vantages for their children. Two deaconesses were sent 
 from Kaiserswerth to perfect themselves in French at 
 the Paris institution. There we saw them. At Kai- 
 serswerth, some months later, we found preparations 
 making for their departure, and have since heard of 
 their arrival in Smyrna. They would begin by open- 
 ing a school for those whom they came to instruct, 
 occupying any spare time with the care and education 
 of the native women. After a time an hospital would 
 be added, and thus step by step would they advance. 
 If, then, helpers at Smyrna were not to be found, 
 Kaiserswerth would send other deaconesses to assist. 
 Their labours are not, however, always so onerous. In 
 France, where the sphere of the Protestant pastor's 
 work is often too extensive for the powers of one man.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 443 
 
 a deaconess is sent to assist him. To her charge are 
 committed the schools, the sick and the poor. Pastor 
 Fliedner's training, with regard to visiting the poor, is 
 very striking. "If you enter a wretched cottage," he 
 says, " only to leave a tract, offer a few words of advice 
 or read a chapter of the Bible, your words may be 
 heard, but they will not often sink deep into the heart. 
 But enter the cottage to help the wife and mother to 
 add some comfort to her home, or to show her some 
 better method of nursing the sick husband or child, 
 then will the few words of warning or comfort find 
 their way into the heart otherwise hardened against the 
 story of peace. In the one instance you come only as 
 the teacher, in the other as the friend and sympa- 
 thizer." 
 
 It is time that we should enter the house. A few 
 steps lead to the door of the pastor's dwelling. We 
 are admitted into a small parlour ornamented with 
 garlands of flowers. Louisa Fliedner, the pastor's eldest 
 daughter, receives us. These flowers are the orphans' 
 love-token to their beloved pastor. Should we like to 
 go over the Inst'tution ? Louisa can speak a little 
 English ; she will be our guide. She speaks of the 
 family love of the community. We go first into the 
 orphan-house. In Prussia, eleven orphans are the wards
 
 444 APPENDIX. 
 
 of the king, and receive, if necessary, a certain allow- 
 ance for their support and education. This, when they 
 are received into any institution, is paid for their main- 
 tenance. The orphans all receive the same training 
 as children. At fifteen they have to take a prominent 
 part in the responsible household duties — cooking, wait- 
 ing on strangers — everything except washing, which is 
 done in the penitentiary. At seventeen their powers 
 are known ; they may be received as novices, be sent 
 forth as servants or apprentices, or received into the 
 training-school in order to become governesses. When 
 ready, situations are found for them, and they are sent 
 out well provided for. JSIany, after a few years, have 
 returned, and of their own free choice have become 
 deaconesses. 
 
 Behind the orphan-house is the penitentiary. Here 
 few visitors are admitted. The washing of the esta- 
 blishment is chiefly done by these women. But what 
 is found to be most peculiarly beneficial to their cha- 
 racter is, their outdoor employment, of which they be- 
 come very fond. One of the deaconesses, herself a 
 peasant, used to country labour, has trained them in the 
 care of the dairy, garden and farm. 
 
 The '' seminariste," or training-school, is peculiarly 
 mteresting. Hither, from all parts of Germany, come
 
 APPENDIX. 445 
 
 young girls to be trained as governesses and school 
 teachers. A clever governess, not a deaconess, super- 
 intends their education. They must, before they come, 
 have attained a certain degree of proficiency. A por- 
 tion of the day is allotted for their own instruction, the 
 remainder to that of others. A village school is at- 
 tached to the Institution. Its teacher has most won- 
 derful energy, and the art of llxing the undivided at- 
 tention of the children on the lesson before them. The 
 seminarists listen to her teaching. Each, in turn, on 
 her appointed day, repeats to the children a lesson 
 which she has herself received from the tutor of the 
 establishment, and rehearsed before him. He listens, 
 and afterwards points out to her, in private, how she 
 might have made this point clearer, or that more in- 
 teresting. At the play-hours of the infant-school chil- 
 dren, the teachers join in the games. They give les- 
 sons in borany, history, and geography to more ad- 
 vanced classes. They also teach reading, writing, and 
 arithmetic to children in the hospitals. In the one 
 large building are contained, in various departments, 
 men, women, children, and infants, suffering from 
 every disease, principally scrofula and consumption, in 
 various forms. A little dispensary is attached to the 
 building. The deaconesses are all skilled in the com-
 
 446 APPENDIX. 
 
 pounding of medicines ; but the dispensary sister was 
 regularly apprenticed to the business. A physician 
 visits twice a day, but neither he nor the assistant pastor 
 resides in the Institution. There is also a kitchen for 
 the preparation of sick food exclusively. On a large 
 board is marked down the number of meals of each 
 kind of food required for the day. Each hospital has 
 its own superintending sister, assisted by novices ; and, 
 in the men's hospital, by male nurses also. The clean- 
 liness and the comfort which reign here, cannot be 
 described. Every deaconess gives part of her spare 
 time to reading to the sick, besides the morning and 
 evening general reading and prayer, and the frequent 
 visits of the pastors. But the most delightful thing 
 of all is the infants' hospital, where the poor little 
 sufferers receive all the care a tender mother could 
 bestow. 
 
 Under the same roof with the hospital is the church 
 of the institution. Large windows opening from some 
 of the sick wards afford to the inmates opportunities of 
 joining in the services, which they much enjoy. It is 
 a most affecting sight to look up and see the sick and 
 anxious faces which crowd around them. 
 
 The lunatic asylum is not far distant. Here are re- 
 ceived the rich, who pay as in otlver institutions, and the
 
 APPENDIX. 447 
 
 poorer, who pay according to their means. As the asylum 
 is self-supporting, the number of poor received is regu- 
 lated by the overplus from the payment of he others.- 
 Everything to soothe and alleviate is here provided — 
 a garden, musical instruments, books, etc. At the 
 head of the asylum is Louisa Fliedner. Though only 
 about twenty-two years of age, she has a peculiar 
 talent for the management of the patients, of whom 
 she is extremely fond. There are several deaconesses 
 under her. Occupation and amusement are the prin- 
 cipal modes of cure. Those who wish have lessons in 
 music, singing, languages, etc. Every day the patients 
 go out to walk, either together or singly, with a dea- 
 coness. Singing is much used to soothe and quiet 
 them when excited. Every birthday and holiday brings 
 some special amusement. They much enjoy a picnic 
 party, one of which we witnessed on our second visit. 
 They all walked out to a little farm, where tables and 
 benches had been placed for them in the garden. 
 Many of them assisted in the preparations for the 
 repast, during which cheerful conversation was ma n- 
 tained. The deaconesses were apparently occupied 
 with their own amusements, but every movement of 
 the patients was closely watched. Some of the party 
 went out in a little boat; others walked along the
 
 44^ APPENDIX. 
 
 banks of the river. On one occasion a girl attempted 
 to drown herself by jumping into the river. Louisa 
 Fliedner said, quietly, *' The water will spoil your 
 clothes," and walked on apparently unconcerned. The 
 girl immediately came out and followed her home. 
 The day we saw them, all were quiet, and seemed to 
 have great enjoyment of their little expedition. Our 
 visit to the lunatic asylum over, we returned to the 
 house. 
 
 Having finished our inspection of the establishment, 
 we re-entered the little parlour into which we had 
 first been ushered. Here we found the pastor and 
 Madame Fliedner. Their simple and earnest manner 
 pleased us much, though at our first visit we had not 
 the opportunity afterwards afforded us of becoming 
 intimately acquainted with them. They had coffee, 
 black (rye) and wheaten bread and syrup for us ; real 
 coffee for the strangers, the usual repast being rye 
 coffee only. 
 
 The pastor had but that morning returned from a 
 tour in England ; but though much fatigued was full 
 of energy, desirous to excite all to some active exertions 
 in the cause of God. But it was already late, and 
 we were obliged to shorten our visit.
 
 APPENDIX. 449 
 
 ST. LOUP, LA SARRAY, VAUD, SWITZERLAND; 
 LANGUAGE, FRENCH. 
 
 This Deaconess Institution is very peculiarly situated. 
 It lies in the country between Lausanne and Yverdun. 
 A very rough road leads from the Edessiers railway 
 station, and a most primitive post-chaise brings you to 
 the neighbouring village of La Sarray. This, small as 
 it is, is the post-town and important shop emporium of 
 the district. It has its free and established churches, 
 and the schools in connection with both are attended 
 by the children from the knots of houses which scarce 
 deserve the name of villages, and lie scattered over the 
 surrounding country. These have mostly their churches, 
 though the pastor of each can hardly have loo souls 
 under his care. Leaving La Sarray, a very lovely road 
 leads the visitor in about half an hour to the first of 
 these village spires. The one street has its fountain, 
 where the women are washing; little ragged children, 
 pigs and poultry, dogs and general untidiness are unlike 
 the usual Protestant cantons. You pass on up a slit,^ht 
 ascent by a river and among trees, to a very curious 
 rock-encircled spot, where, above the village and com- 
 manding the whole extent of country, stand three or 
 four detached buildings. Here again, is a fountain,
 
 45© APPENDIX. 
 
 at which a female in deaconess attire is busy, She 
 cordially welcomes the stranger, and will seek Mon- 
 sieur le Pasteur. A narrow passage leads you past the 
 kitchen to a good-sized sitting-room, which, opening on 
 a small but homelike garden, has an air of comfort 
 even in its simplicity. A few flowers and fewer books ; 
 portraits of reformers and remarkable pastors j a few 
 photographs of sisters, and you have all the adorn- 
 ments. A large number of chairs, several tables, with 
 a very old-fiishioned sofa, are all the uncarpeted room 
 contains. Soon the daughter of the house appears, and 
 in a very French manner receives her former friend; 
 old Kaiscrswerth memories are revived ; Julie is full of 
 regrets at the absence of her father and mother, the 
 heads of the Institution, but the visitor has spent the 
 last twenty-four hours with them at the residence of 
 th.ix- lately widowed daughter. Their representatives 
 are soon introduced ; Monsieur and Madame Henri 
 Germond, who have lately given up their home to 
 assist his aged parents in their almost too heavy charge 
 of carrying on the work begun in days of greater vigour. 
 The first impressions of these future heads were 
 deepened on further acquaintance. Madame is a 
 young and pretty woman, earnest and conscientious, 
 but too much absorbed in her children to make the
 
 APPENDIX, 451 
 
 Institution her first care j perhaps she is too new'/ 
 come to feel her responsibihties with respect to iL 
 Her husband is a naturally reserved man, a deep 
 thinker, fond of study and of teaching, more suited 
 perhaps for the training of young men than for guiding 
 women. A great deal of quiet humour and a store of 
 appropriate anecdotes make him a pleasant person in 
 general society, and he seems always to try to hav3 
 some improving and suggestive idea. Could h3 r^'-c 
 chosen to follow his taste in every way, I am sure h's 
 life would have been spent in deep study 3 he would 
 have written much and ably ; given lectures on reli- 
 gious and philosophical subjects, and perhaps takeri 
 some of the head classes in the colleges or had young 
 men to read with him ; and yet, hear him in family 
 prayer, in his weekly lectures, and those in the wards, 
 and those more especially for the sisters, and also in the 
 more general Sunday services ; talk to him about the 
 difficulties of the work, its snares for individuals, its 
 general results, or consult him as a friend respecting 
 your own future, and you feel there is an earnestness 
 of purpose about himself, a power of sympathy with 
 others, a perception of character, and also of duty, and 
 above all, a simple seeking to know and to follow God's 
 way and the leadings of His providence, and 01 bring-
 
 452 APPENDIX. 
 
 ing everything to His footstool ; so that what Monsieur 
 Henri Gennond says is not so much what impresses 
 you as that where he seeks wisdom, you too may find 
 guidance, — all this makes one. feel that he has much 
 that will in time adapt him for the responsible work 
 he has undertaken. As yet he is not wholly given to 
 it J as yet his quick temper is not perhaps sufficiently 
 under restraint j as yet he is more the chaplain of the 
 Institution than its head. Perhaps while his father and 
 mother reside there he does not, even in their long and 
 frequent absences, sufficiently feel himself the respon- 
 sible person. During my visit the Institution suffered 
 from this ; there seemed no one to regulate those 
 minute and daily varying details, which, insignificant as 
 they appear, are in fact the school in which the 
 deaconess character is moulded. Neither were there 
 over each department the disciplined elder sisters, whose 
 quiet influence and deportment so insensibly form the 
 younger members of the community. Too many of 
 these had been draughted to outposts, and the Mother 
 House seemed altogether to be in the kind of normal 
 state one might imagine a newly-established work 
 would present. The order and regularity, the clock- 
 work precision of other institutions, were wanting.. Very 
 glaring defects in novices seemed scarcely perceived, or
 
 APPENDIX. 45. 
 
 rather perhaps one ought to say, there was none of 
 that close supervision of them in their work by which 
 the character is so thoroughly discovered. A novice, 
 for hours left alone with her patients, may give way to 
 temper, impatience, and indolence, without being sus- 
 pected of these failings, for even among Christians we 
 find too many eye-servants. You often asked your- 
 self, — Has Kaiserswerth more sterling material to work 
 upon ? Is the German more solid than the Swiss 
 character? and yet when you visited St. Loup 
 deaconesses in other districts, you felt their training had 
 been different from what those in the house during my 
 visit were receiving. Still tJiere was a something 
 wanting. Ihere is a refmement, a courtesy, a quiet 
 self-possession about Kaiserswerth deaconesses, I have 
 not found elsewhere as a rule. Elsewhere you find it 
 in individuals j at Kaiserswerth, it stamps the com- 
 munity. There are, nevertheless, many exceptions. 
 Pastor Germond and the mother are the most warm- 
 hearted and genial of any of the " Heads " I have seen. 
 They have benevolence beaming in every feature, and 
 as. they enter a ward, old and young look to them as 
 to parents. Ever with a cheerful and cheering word 
 for each ; a look or a shake of the hand which makes 
 the most complaining feel they have some one who
 
 454 APPENDIX. 
 
 sympathizes, and for the day every one who has seen 
 either M. or Madame G. is cheered by the remembrance 
 of their visit. Ask any one what did they say to you, 
 and you feel heart spoke to heart. "The sun always 
 shines the day they have been among us," is the usual 
 expression, and you scarcely feel it exaggerated when 
 you witness the genial effect. On one distinc- 
 tive feature of this Institution, Pastor Germond prides 
 himself. At dinner and supper, all the workers meet 
 at a common table. At the head sit the Pastor and 
 the Mother ; any strangers next, and then the elder 
 sisters, novices, convalescents from among the patients, 
 and then the farm servants. 
 
 There is little conversation, but usually during the 
 meal the Pastor or Mother tell some news of general 
 interest, or relate some anecdote respecting a Reformer, 
 or some other remarkable character. 
 
 Morning and evening prayer is conducted as follows. 
 A hymn is sung, a portion of Scripture read and ex- 
 plained, then an extempore prayer is offered, in which 
 the different branch institutions are specially remem- 
 bered, and any particular cases are mentioned. The 
 Pastor visits the sick daily, taking a certain number, 
 but never passing those who are very ill without a few 
 words of prayer and a text or two, followed by some 
 simple words.
 
 APPENDIX. 455 
 
 The sisters are expected to read and pray with the 
 patients, but I never could find that they had much 
 special teaching to prepare them for this. The Pastor 
 gives a weekly lecture in each ward, and I think when 
 old Madame G. was at home, she used to come every 
 afternoon to read a chapter, followed by a simple ex- 
 planation. On Sunday, all who are able, go to La 
 Sarray to the curious *' upper room," where the Pastor 
 conducts the Free Church services for all who choose 
 to attend. For the afternoon service his dining-room 
 is thrown open to the public. Here, too, is held a 
 kind of weekly lecture for the sisters. This is varied 
 according to circumstances. When several elder sisters 
 are present, it is a kind of " conference," and bears 
 that name ; when otherwise, a portion of Scripture is 
 read which seems specially applicable, — some duty in- 
 culcated, perhaps some reproof administered, which the 
 past week has shown to be ne-dful ; but I did not hear 
 of any catechetical instruction, of which there is so 
 much at Kaiserswerth. As usual, one is struck with 
 the very partial observance of the Sabbath. On a Sun- 
 day afternoon I first explored the place, and may there- 
 fore here describe the situation of the house. It stands 
 on an eminence, in fact the ground is curiou-ly cut 
 away in front, so that house and garden seem to be on
 
 456 APPENDIX. 
 
 a high terrace 3 below is a little village, and a noisy 
 stream winds among shrubs and trees to the left; a 
 vast expanse of rather flat ground stretches before you, 
 rich fields, a few trees, and scattered knots of houses, 
 and then, far away, but beautifully distinct in clear 
 weather, Mont Blanc, in his greatest magnificence, and 
 all the snowy Alpine range. I never saw Mont Blanc 
 as I have seen him from this neighbourhood. He in- 
 deed stands forth the " monarch " from amid his at- 
 tendant " guards." Nor is the prospect less imposing 
 when partial mists leave much hidden grandeur to the 
 imagination to picture; then there is often a solemn 
 majesty in the scene, unfelt when unclouded sunlight 
 reveals it in all its dazzling splendour. Behind the 
 house, enclosing its apparent domain, or rather fields, 
 is a very curious semicircular wall of rock, about 50 
 feet high, from which there is no apparent egress; 
 from the summit the Alpine panorama is complete. 
 In the part nearest the house is the apparently exca- 
 vated cavity where the ^' Patron Saint " of the district 
 led his hermit life. I suppose from his lofty eyrie St. 
 Loup saw somewhat of human misery, for he descended 
 to erect, where the Institution now stands, a home or 
 refuge for the sick. Thus St. Loup is an ancient 
 establishment, and as at Kaiserswerth, we find a 
 modern work on a very ancient basis.
 
 APPENDIX. 457 
 
 The art of nursing is not in very great perfection 
 he/e. The sisters serin to have no routine of work ; 
 they have their appointed posts, certainly, but not the 
 Kaiserswerth organization ; in fact, no other institution 
 of the kind that I know, has. Nor is the daily walk 
 the rule as there, nor the midday half-hour for private 
 prc/er, nor the after-dinner portion of the Psalms, nor 
 the appointed Scripture lessons for morning and even- 
 ing reading, nor the connecting daily text, all of which 
 Hx-e the Kaiserswerth links between its widely scattered 
 members. A St. Loup sister goes daily to hold her 
 school at La Sarray, and is most admirably fitted for 
 the post. Here novices can be trained in this branch 
 of the work, the mother house consistmg merely of 
 a hospital. At La Ferriere, about three miles distant, 
 four sisters have an orphan house and Cripples' Home. 
 At Lausanne, three sisters manage a children's hospital, 
 and at Vevey others ars engaged in the same work. 
 In fact ceveral Swiss towns are their spheres of labour, 
 and when one sees them thus, one is more favourably 
 impressed with thi general stamp of the character of 
 St. Loup deaconesses than by those one has found at 
 the parent Institution. Certain family circumstances in 
 late years probably account for this. Perhaps also, now 
 that there is more religious freedom in Switzerland,
 
 45^ APPENDIX. 
 
 those who would be earnest workers do not so much 
 feel the need of an institution to give them shelter and 
 support. The days are past when, in a Protestant 
 Canton, Pastor Germond was imprisoned for venturing 
 to assemble a few friends in his own house for reading 
 God's Word and prayer. The Free Church, though 
 not sharing all the privileges of the established, is 
 equally tolerated, but its ministers and members are 
 not so much the chosen band tliey used to be. I saw 
 the Institution at St. Loup under most unfavourable 
 circumstances J the real heads were little there. I saw 
 a crood deal of them, but not much of their actual 
 work. The Gospel appeared to be simply and fully 
 taught, and God's word to take its proper place. Much 
 good -has been done by this unpretending Institution, 
 and much more we trust may arise. God's blessing 
 upon it is so earnestly and constantly sought, that 
 doubtless He will not withhold, but shower down rich 
 grace on its sisters. 
 
 REIHEN, NEAR BASLE ', LANGUAGE, GERMAN. 
 
 This Deaconess Institution is more exclusively under 
 female management than either St. Loup, Kaiserswerth, 
 or Strasburg. Its president is not a pastor, and though.
 
 APPENDIX. 459 
 
 when in the neighbourhood, he is constantly consulted, 
 the detail of the work is entirely in the hands of Sister 
 Trinette, or Trina, as she is commonly called. She 
 was selected for this work by Monsieur Spittlcr, 
 who, as she says, almost forcibly carried her from her 
 father's house to take the conduct of the embryo hos- 
 pital, into which patients were bribed to enter. The 
 physician tells most amusing stories of the rate of pay- 
 ment which certain cases required to induce them to 
 trust themselves to the gentle sister. At Reihen the 
 educated clement among the sisters is quite the excep- 
 tion ; when I was there, but one could help with cor- 
 respondence or accounts, and this she did not always 
 choose to do. The sisters are chiefly of the peasant 
 class, and nursing is iheir sole occupation. The medical 
 man visits daily : the institution is his pride and hobby, 
 and he looks upon it as his child j bnt he takes more 
 the philanthropic than the Christian view with regard 
 to it. Such is not, however, the case with Monsieur 
 Bischoff, the president, who tries to deepen and con- 
 solidate its Bible foundation. A pastor from Basle 
 comes weekly to instruct the sisters, but neither his 
 teaching nor the ministry they attend struck me par- 
 ticularly. In the neighbouring Deaf and Dumb Insti- 
 tution they have very helpful Sunday afternoon services
 
 460 . APPENDIX. 
 
 and the heads of that institution maintain an elevating 
 Christian fellowship with the sisters. There is great 
 simplicity in all the arrangements j the usual deaconess 
 cleanliness and order pervade the institution. The phy- 
 sician, who is also a surgeon, takes much pains in train- 
 ing the sisters and novices in the nursing department, 
 and his quick eye detects the slightest disorder or 
 irregularity, on which he does not fail to remark. 
 Sister Trinette is the most simple and humble-minded 
 Christian, and has gentle, winning, affectionate man- 
 ners. Perhaps as head, she ought to exact more respect, 
 and yet she can act with great decision. One or two 
 elder sisters are rather self-willed, which is of course 
 bad as example to the younger- but over the latter the 
 gentle firmness of Sister Trina seems to have the proper 
 influence, and perhaps the beautiful humility with which 
 she submits to the often troublesome elder sisters more 
 strengthens her position than would the absolute asser- 
 tion of her rights. Here again, the workers at out- 
 posts show the results of the training more than do 
 the unformed characters found at the parent institu- 
 tion. This is so small, that the head requires no me- 
 dium sisters between herself and the novices, and she 
 keeps up the correspondence with those at outposts. 
 Basle has Reihen sisters in its town and children's hos-
 
 APPENDIX. 461 
 
 pitals, and also in its prison. Reihen is also the parent 
 of the Deaconess Institution at Zurich, of which more 
 can be told, but I believe Reihen sisters have never 
 yet gone out of Switzerland. They are placed entirely 
 under the control of the heads of the hospitals, etc., 
 in which they work, and conform themselves to their 
 rules, and thus differ from the Kaiserswerth sisters, 
 who must always work in the Kaiserswerth groove, 
 and submit to no direction or guidance but that of 
 their own pastor. On no account must they modify 
 the rule in which they have been trained, without very 
 special and rarely granted permission. The Sabbath is 
 more observed in Reihen than in any other similar in- 
 stitution I have seen, and this may be traced to Monsieur 
 Bischoff's acquaintance with and admiration for En- 
 glish customs, A committee of ladies meet occasionally 
 to advise Sister T., but this is only nominal, the meeting 
 being more to hear of the work. The president usually 
 lays before the ladies the most important occurrences 
 of the past few months, and Sister Trina consults them 
 upon any domestic arrangements, as the necessary re- 
 newal of linen, blankets, etc. This is, I believe, their 
 only real business, as Sister Trina is so trusted that 
 advice to her, or sanction to her proceedings, is given 
 only when slie herself seeks it. Some idea may be
 
 462 APPENDIX. 
 
 formed of the un-English simplicity of Reihen when we 
 picture to ourselves the Committee-room containing 
 two beds. They are certainly not in constant use, but 
 being the only spare room in the house^ it serves a 
 variety of purposes, and amongst others, it is the sleep- 
 ing apartment of strangers or sisters who riiay return 
 temporarily. The Deaconess Institution at Reihen and 
 the missionary training-school at Crischona were once 
 in close connection, and had union prayer-meetings 
 (though the deaconesses never prayed publicly). Too 
 many marriages, however, were the result of this inter- 
 course, which has now been entirely stopped j not that 
 marriage is forbidden, or discountenanced, in any of 
 the deaconess houses j it is rather looked upon as the 
 necessary and providential discipline of some characters, 
 though the impression generally seems to be, that if a 
 deaconess marries, she will have some special trials, and 
 certainly a number of cases are enumerated of dea- 
 conesses who have been soon left widows, or have had 
 struggling lives with large families. In three cases I 
 have myself known where I have seen the sister at her 
 work, and after six or eight years found her as a 
 m.arried woman at the head of an institution, the 
 care of husband and children has seemed to be almost 
 all-engrossing, and I do not think she is able to attend
 
 APPENDIX. 463 
 
 to both family and institution duties. Madame Fliedner 
 combines both in a wonderful manner, but overworks 
 mind and body. So much devolves on those in re- 
 sponsible positions in deaconess houses, — the intimate 
 knowledge of the peculiar character of every sister and 
 novice, what each is best fitted for, how the defects of 
 each are to be counterbalanced and their strong points 
 of character developed. How every part in the ma- 
 chinery is to be formed into a perfect whole requires 
 such attention to detail, as well as to general effect 
 that the concentrated energies of one highly endowed 
 individual would not suffice. Wisdom from above is 
 daily, hourly needed to combine the jarring elements, 
 and to draw forth the union and harmony which are the 
 difficulty and yet the aim of such work. 
 
 ZURICH. 
 
 If we go back a few years in the history of the 
 Reihen Institution, we shall find that some important 
 matter is under long and serious discussion. Many 
 prayers are offered up for the only sure wisdom and 
 true guidance. Among the sisters there is one whom 
 nature seems to have endowed with extraordinary 
 powers of government, but to whom submission to
 
 4^4 APPENDIX. 
 
 authority seems almost impossible. She has many 
 sterhng qualities, much that is so truly excellent and 
 estimable, that but for this one thing she would be in- 
 valuable. A sincere and earnest Christian, and yet 
 marring the work. No Institution can have two heads j 
 her influence is injurious, and yet are all these powers 
 to be rejected ? Can they not be put to good account 
 
 even in deaconess work ? Sister returns home for 
 
 a while, and prayer is made by many on her behalf 
 that the will of the Lord concerning her may be 
 clearly discerned. Soon comes an appeal from Zurich j 
 can Reihen give a head for an independent Deaconess 
 
 Institution? It is the very work for Sister , and 
 
 she goes to Zurich to take her position in the small 
 newly opened hospital at the end of the town. Nor 
 does she go alone ; this strong masculine character has 
 attracted the little clinging Sister Julie Kleinst, who 
 appears to have no decision of character, and may be 
 led and moulded by any one to whom she is attached, 
 but would never venture to otfer or almost form an 
 opinion of her own. It seemed as if she could only 
 live in Sister 's presence, and, to use her own ex- 
 pression, she followed her like a dog, lay at her feet by 
 day as she sat at her desk, and slept in her room by 
 night, ready to help Sister in anything, but too
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 465 
 
 shy to work with others, almost shrinking from meet- 
 ing the sisters at the common table, even when pro- 
 tected by her guardian friend. Only one thing seemed 
 at all to rouse her to independent action. Sometimes 
 
 Sister was ill, and then, as her representative, the 
 
 little shrinking Julie appeared in a new character. In 
 less than a year Sister lay on her death -bed say- 
 ing to her friend ''You must take my place,— you 
 alone know how matters have gone on hitherto ; in the 
 Rock of Ages is everlasting strength, my child, and un- 
 derneath are the everlasting arms." But Julie scarcely 
 heard or heeded 5 but one thought was hers, alone in 
 the world without her friend she could not live,— the 
 same grave would surely hold them both. The blow 
 came, but it was not crushing} it seemed more as 
 if the prophet's mantle, as of old, had fallen on her suc- 
 cessor. She seemed to feel as if God Himself called 
 her to the work, and spoke to her as to Jeren:»iah of 
 old, and, therefore, when the committee elected her as 
 head, she seemed to accept the post almost unques- 
 tioningly. In a few months more the president, founder, 
 and father of the little institution was laid in the same 
 plot in " God's acre " as that which contained the now 
 
 mouldering form of Sister . Julie seemed truly left 
 
 alone ; by those graves she stood and felt in her inmost
 
 466 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 soul a deeper assurance of her heavenly Father's presence 
 and unfailing strength. And by these graves we stood as 
 she told me this touching story. All was not bright, 
 however J it needed the constant heavenly whisper, " I 
 am with thee," perchance more the simple hearing of 
 His voice, for with it perhaps was too much mingled 
 the feeling as if the guardian angel of the last few years 
 was still with her, though invisibly. Perhaps thejealous 
 God would teach her to think only of His love and 
 care. What had not the poor little shrinking Juhe to 
 suffer from the jealousies of the sisters, that that child 
 should be put over them, that she who had hitherto 
 needed constant guiding even in the minutest details 
 of life should now guide them ! Oh, the lessons to be 
 learned of weanedness from all creature help! oh, the 
 bitter tears shed in that secret chamber when learning 
 the salutary lesson, " The Lord is friendly !" (Der Herr 
 ist freundlich, the German translation of *^ The Lord is 
 good"). No earthly friend, no earthly adviser, but an 
 ever present omnipotent and compassionate heavenly 
 Friend. Months again passed over her, she had trial 
 in her work but joy in her Lord. Then sickness came, 
 severe dangerous illness ; and with the startling convic- 
 tion that they might soon lose their gentle timid head, 
 there came to the sisters' minds a conviction of all their
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 467 
 
 evil conduct towards her, and one vied with another in 
 their care of her, and in united prayer they asked of 
 the Lord forgiveness for their past neglect, and a token 
 of that forgiveness, in their now dear sister's restoration 
 to health. Long and tedious was her recovery, but now 
 that bright and happy sister feels, amid all her work and 
 trials too, that the Lord Himself has trained and is 
 training her- and in this strength she goes on ui her 
 daily work, though the natural timidity sometimes peeps 
 out, still she is happy in her position, and happy in the 
 sisters' love. Sister Trinette at Reihen is not more re- 
 spected than is the young Julie at Zurich, and there is 
 more of harmony and real union and communion to be 
 found in the institution governed by the latter. Here I 
 first learned the inestimable value of our authorized 
 translation of the Bible; no one can imagine who has 
 not tried it what difficulty and confusion in a B.ble- 
 class results, when its members read or repeat texts, one 
 out of Luther's, another out of Zwingle's Bible. Some- 
 times in the social evening readings at family prayer, 
 these slight differences threw great light on some pas- 
 sage, bu»^ this is when you have the Bibles open to- 
 gether 3 it requires great familiarity with both to be 
 able to refer to texts so differently quoted, and I was 
 surprised to find such ignorance of the Bible among the
 
 468 APPENDIX. 
 
 deaconesses of the various Institutions I visited, com- 
 pared with those of Kaisersvverth. The study and 
 familiarity with the Bible there inculcated and required 
 is a very important and necessary point of imitation. 
 At evening prayer at Zurich, the a])pointed portion is 
 read verse about, and then the thoughts suggested by any 
 passage are mentioned by any present ; the head sister 
 selecting, a text from the chapter as the thought for the 
 night. The sisters take it by turns to pray. 
 
 MULHAUS 
 
 Is a branch of Strasburg, but is a larger offshoot than 
 are many independent deaconess homes. The work of 
 the sisters here is threefold : first, the government hos- 
 pital is under their care they, conforming to certain re- 
 gulations. It is a large well-organized institution, and I 
 think it is one of those whose internal arrangements, as 
 far as the plan of the building goes, are quoted by Miss 
 Nightingale with approbation. 
 
 Secondly, an old man's home under the care of an 
 elderly sister. 
 
 Thirdly, parochial deaconesses. These live in a 
 separate house under the control of their own superin- 
 tendent sister, and are quite distinct from those in the 
 hospital. A few spare rooms are given up to form a
 
 APPENDIX. 469 
 
 small invalid home, but the business of these sisters is 
 with the poor of the district. 
 
 Mulhaus is a large manufacturing town, but the 
 heads of the factories seem to vie with each other in 
 providing for the comfort of their workpeople. The 
 inhabitants are almost exck;sively Protestants. Each 
 sister has a certain district allotted to her; she is under 
 a committee of ladies; the owner of the factory, 
 among whose people she works, pays the rent of a 
 small house for her in her di.^trict, and she has the 
 charge of the fund allowed for the poor and sick of 
 the quarter. In her little house the parish doctor 
 meets his patients; she receives his orders respecting 
 them, and compounds his prescriptions; she also ac- 
 companies him in his visits, and attends to the carrying 
 out of his wishes ; in cases of necessity she sits up at 
 night with her patients, but on account of her heavy 
 day-work this must not be too often. The deaconess 
 has her appointed hours for visiting; at certain times 
 her poor know they will find her in her mission-room, 
 and there they come to her for counsel. She cuts 
 out and gives out cloth to be made, which is after- 
 wards sold at cost price. She has her servant and her 
 garden, — the servant prepares the soup, which on cer- 
 tain days is given to those who have tickets, and at
 
 47° APPENDIX. 
 
 Other times is specially made for invalids. When the 
 sister is in her district, the servant receives any mes- 
 sages which may be left for her j she also assists the 
 sister in the garden, which is expected to provide the 
 herbs and vegetables necessary for the soup. At night 
 tlie sister returns to the " Home," though ihe house 
 furnishes a bed-room, where in severe weather or un- 
 der special circumstances she spends the night. The 
 model sisters' house is that bu It in connection with the 
 remarkable *' Mulhausen Cite ouvriere," a most perfect 
 provision for all the wants of working-men. 
 
 Each little hous.- has four rooms, and is divided be- 
 tween two families, each having their own small 
 garden. A most comfortable eating-house, also bath 
 and washing establishment, provide cheap comforts 
 and save the women both labour and expense. The 
 arrangements seem so perfect that it seems were such 
 " Cites ouvrieres " more universally provided, the poor 
 would almost cease out of our land, but even in 
 Mulhaus all the poor are not so well provided for. 
 As many of the parish sisters as are able return to 
 the Home to dinner, and before again returning to 
 their work the little band kneel to ask that God's 
 blessing may accompany them.
 
 APPENDIX— (C.) 
 
 HOSPITAL TRAINING AND NURSING IN THE UNITED 
 STATES. 
 
 [In the preparation of an American edition of this work, the 
 publishers have felt that it might be well to give a brief sketch 
 of what has been done and is doing by benevolent ladies in the 
 United States for the objects to which Miss Jones, Miss Night- 
 ingale, Mrs. Ranyard, and others in England, have devoted their 
 lives, and they have therefore requested a gentleman who has 
 been for years thoroughly familiar with the various phases of this 
 work, to prepare for them an appendix, giving such particulars of 
 it as might be of general interest. — Publishers.] 
 
 THE condition of society in England and Ireland 
 differs in so many respects from that in the United 
 States, that it would not be strange if there were none 
 of our philanthropic women whose career furnished an 
 exact parallel with that of the noble-hearted Christian
 
 472 APPENDIX. 
 
 woman whose story is so admirably told in this vol- 
 ume ; and yet, allowing for those differences, it would 
 not be difficult to find a considerable number who 
 might claim a sisterhood with her from their abundant 
 labors. Yet such women as Agnes E. Jones are few 
 in any country, and those on this side the ocean who 
 are most like her in self-denial, self-sacrifice, and 
 executive ability, would be the last to feel that they 
 were entitled to such honor. 
 
 I have said that the condition of society was differ- 
 ent. There is a greater feeling of equality in our com- 
 munity ; the poor who have not lost heart and ambition 
 look forward, at no distant day, to becoming as weal- 
 thy, and li\ing as well, as the opulent farmer, trades- 
 man, merchant, or lawyer, who now enjoys his villa, 
 his equipage, and his yacht in their vicinity ; and there 
 is hence little or nothing of that mutual relation of 
 the wealthy and the poor, the helper and the helped, 
 which makes the ministrations of this sort of charity 
 so touching in Great Britain and Ireland. The poor 
 who have lost heart and hope — and we have such — 
 are for the most part of foreign birth, and receive as- 
 sistance too often with a sulky air, and a manner which 
 indicates that they regard it as their right, and would 
 prefer to take it with the strong hand, rather than have
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 473 
 
 it bestowed upon them by those who would fain be- 
 friend them. Our native paupers and families of the 
 poor in the rural districts have, except where crime 
 has induced the poverty, so much pride and unwilling- 
 ness to seem poor, that they are often ungracious to 
 those who try to mingle religious influences with their 
 charities. 
 
 In the cities, the great mass of the poor and depend- 
 ent are of foreign birth or parentage, and so much 
 under the control of a Roman Catholic priesthood 
 that they are hardly accessible to Protestant influences, 
 except in the matter of mere sustenance, clothing, 
 and money ; and very often any suggestion looking to 
 reform, in regard to intemperance or other vices, is 
 resented as meddling with their religion. Yet more 
 has been done with these classes than could have been 
 expected, though not so much as is to be desired. 
 The city missions, industrial schools, houses of indus- 
 try, newsboys' lodging-houses, temporary homes for 
 girls, homes for the friendless, women's homes, work- 
 ingwomen's boarding-houses, and helping-hand associa- 
 tions, all, or nearly all, owe their existence, primarily, 
 to the wise thought of some benevolent woman, who 
 has seen the needs of the poor and has skilfully de- 
 vised ways and means for helping them.
 
 474 APPENDIX. 
 
 We do not speak in this connection of the associa- 
 tions for improving the condition of the poor, houses of 
 refuge, juvenile asylums, children's aid societies, prison 
 associations, houses of correction, reform schools, etc., 
 etc., because these, which are in part correctional and 
 in part governmental, originated mostly with the other 
 sex. 
 
 The organizations for the reclamation of fallen 
 women (and it is worth while to note, just here, that 
 our benevolent work in this country is done much 
 more largely through organizations tlian in England) 
 have mostly been originated and managed by benevo- 
 lent women ; they have been very successful in most 
 of our large cities, and have compelled the keepers of 
 houses of prostitution to resort to a great variety of 
 expedients to keep their houses full. Still, in seaports, 
 and great cities generally, there is so large a vicious 
 population, that the utmost exertion in this depart- 
 ment of humanitarian effort can do little more than to 
 prevent an increase of the class. 
 
 Bible reading, and the sale of Bibles in weekly 
 small instalments, as well as tract distribution, is main- 
 tained in all our larger cities, though not exclusively 
 by women. The city missionaries, tract visitors, and 
 Bible readers are of both sexes, and accomplish in the
 
 APPENDIX. 475 
 
 aggregate a vast amount of good. It is but just to 
 say, however, that in none of our cities have we an 
 agency for lay mission work among the poor and de- 
 graded exactly analogous to Mrs, Ranyard's Mission 
 and Corps of liible-women. Some of the class, and 
 those dwelling in some sections of our seaports, are 
 perhaps reached even more effectively than she has 
 been able to do in London ; while others are almost 
 entirely neglected. 
 
 The charitable educational work has been more 
 thoroughly accomplished here than in the British cities, 
 partly from the fact that our public educational system, 
 so far as primary education is concerned, is more per- 
 vasive and universal than the British, and partly be- 
 cause the greater part of our mission schools, refuges, 
 juvenile and orphan asylums, industrial schools, etc., 
 are the recipients of liberal appropriations from the 
 public school moneys, and are subject to the visitation 
 of the school superintendents. The system of depor- 
 tation practised by many of the reformatories, asylums, 
 and orphanages, by means of which vagrant children, 
 petty thieves, and friendless girls of the lower classes 
 are trained in good and well-conducted schools, taught 
 the principles of morality and religion, and then placed 
 in good homes in the West, where they are further
 
 476 APPENDIX. 
 
 educated and brought under good home influences, is 
 one of those measures which, while it is impossible in 
 Great Britain, has been of great benefit here. 
 
 The hospital work, in most of its departments, has 
 been conducted by women on a larger scale here, per- 
 haps, than anywhere else in the world. We have 
 within the last decade passed through a great and ter- 
 rible war ; and in that war, in the general, camp, and 
 field hospitals, and in the preparation, collection, and 
 despatch of supplies for the sick and wounded in those 
 hospitals, more than ten thousand women were dili- 
 gently employed for the greater portion of the four 
 years during which the war continued. 
 
 The greater part were, of course, engaged in the 
 preparation of hospital clothing, furniture, and stores, 
 or in its collection and despatch, but somewhat more 
 than two thousand were actually engaged in nursing, 
 or in superintending and organizing hospitals. A very 
 few of them had had the advantage of previous hos- 
 pital training, like that which Miss Jones enjoyed at 
 Kaiserswerth, and subsequently at the training-school 
 of St. Thomas's Hospital. Of these few, the most 
 conspicuous were the Blackwell sisters, who had, 
 years before, acquired a thorough medical education, 
 and had at that time added to their large practice a
 
 APPENDIX. 477 
 
 hospital and infirmary for women and children. These 
 ladies maintained for a time, at the beginning of the 
 war, a training-school for nurses, in which they gave 
 instruction in the care of the wounded, and in those 
 matters of minor surgery which were of importance to 
 those who were to be employed in tlie hospitals in all 
 possible ways ; they gave to the cause their skill, their 
 influence, and, when needed, their personal services. 
 The Superior of the '' Protestant Sisterhood of the 
 Holy Communion," a trained nurse, educated at Kai- 
 serswerth, and in 1861, as for some years previous, 
 the lady Superintendent of St. Luke's Hospital, 
 though she was unable to leave her position, trained 
 many excellent nurses for the army. A similar service 
 was rendered by Mrs. Adaline Tyler, of Baltimore, 
 the head of another Protestant sisterhood, who had at 
 the commencement of the war already been for five 
 years engaged in similar labours of love and charity in 
 Baltimore to those which fall to the lot of the Kaisers- 
 werth deaconesses. Mrs. Tyler was during two years 
 of the war at the head of large Government hospitals 
 at Chester, Pennsylvania, and at Annapolis, Maryland. 
 The Lutheran deaconesses of Baltimore and Phila- 
 delphia, several of them educated at Kaiserswerth, 
 rendered valuable services in various capacities in the
 
 478 APPENDIX. 
 
 hospitals of those cities and Washington. Miss Emily 
 E. Parsons, a daughter of the distinguished law-pro- 
 fessor of Harvard University, and herself a most ac- 
 complished scholar, secured from the surgeons of the 
 Massachusetts General Hospital a training an:ilogous 
 to that given to nurses in the St. Thomas's Hospital. 
 After a year and a half of this instruction and practice, 
 she was placed in charge of a large hospital, first near 
 New York, and afterwards at St. Louis, Mo. The 
 services she rendered were of the very highest order. 
 At St. Louis she had under her charge, at times, two 
 thousand patients and a corps of volunteer nurses, be- 
 side the male nurses employed by the Government. 
 Since the conclusion of the war, Miss Parsons has 
 founded and now manages an admirable hospital for 
 women and children in Cambridge, Massachusetts. 
 
 Miss Dix, the General Superintendent of Nurses at 
 Washington, had had many years of experience and 
 training in connection with her well-known philan- 
 thropic labours for the insane and for prisoners. She 
 possessed remarkable administrative powers and a 
 thorough knowledge of every department of hospital 
 work, and since the war, though in feeble health, has 
 devoted herself with renewed energy to her labours in 
 behalf of the insane.
 
 APPENDIX. 479 
 
 Of the other ladies who organized or superin- 
 tended hospitals, and were most distinguished for their 
 executive abiHty, Miss Breckenridge, Mrs. Menden- 
 hall, Mrs. Marsh, Mrs. Parrish, and perhaps one or 
 two more, had had, directly or indirectly, hospital 
 training, or its equivalent — the husbands of the last 
 three being surgeons, and having instructed their wives 
 in some branches of the art of nursing. Miss Clara 
 Barton, who has since distinguished herself as an or- 
 ganizer of hospitals and of other benevolent enter- 
 prises for the relief of the sufferers in the late Franco- 
 German war, had had only a home training and some 
 study of practical works on medicine and surgery. 
 Mrs. Bickerdyke and Mrs. Russell had been house- 
 keepers and nurses before the war, while Miss Helen 
 L. Gilson, Miss Mary J. Safford, Mrs. Arabella G. 
 Barlow, Mrs. Woolsey and her daughters and nieces, 
 Miss Maria M. L. Hall, Miss Wormeley, Miss Clara 
 Davis, Miss Anna M. Ross, Mrs. Nellie M. Taylor, 
 Mrs. General Hawley, Mrs. Cordelia Harvey, Mrs. 
 Henrietta L. Colt, and many others of nearly equal 
 celebrity and merit, entered upon the work without 
 any previous training. The mortality among these 
 noble women was fearful. Four of those above named 
 did not live through the war, and three more did not
 
 480 APPENDIX. 
 
 long survive it. Ail died of overwork. Whether 
 .their work would not have been accomplished with 
 more ease and less wear upon the system if they had 
 had a previous hospital training, is hardly a question. 
 
 Still another class who were very useful and effi- 
 cient as managers, especially in the camp and field 
 hospitals, were married ladies of middle age — most of 
 whom had brought up families of their own, and had, 
 from a natural predilection for it, acquired consider- 
 able reputation in the care of the sick before the war. 
 Among these the names of Mrs. John Harris, Mrs. 
 Mary Morris Husband, both of Philadelphia; Mrs. 
 Eliza Potter-, of Charleston, who had, in several epi- 
 demics of yellow fever in that city, devoted herself to 
 the care of its victims when others fled from the pesti- 
 lence, and who ministered to the Union prisoners and 
 wounded with a mother's tenderness ; Mrs. Eaton of 
 Portland, Mrs. Fenn of Pittsfield, Mrs. Hoge and Mrs. 
 Livermore of Chicago, Mrs. Mary W. Lee of Phila- 
 delphia, Mrs. W. H. Holstein of Montgomery Co., 
 Pa., Mrs. Lizzie Farr of Norwalk, Ohio, Mrs. Jere- 
 miah Porter of Chicago, Mrs. Fogg of Calais, Maine, 
 and many others, will be at once recalled by those 
 who are familiar with the work accomplished by Chris- 
 tian women in the war.
 
 APPENDIX. 48J 
 
 The emancipation proclamation of January, 1863, 
 which hberated nearly four millions of human beings 
 from slavery, opened another field of philanthropic la- 
 bor to Christian women, with even less of romance 
 and more of peril in it than the hospital work. The 
 freedmen were anxious for the rudiments of education 
 for themselves and their children. Very few of them 
 could read, and they were very poor, ignorant, and 
 degraded, from their protracted servitude, while many 
 of the vices of the servile condition still clung to 
 them. More than a thousand educated, refined, and 
 cultivated women volunteered to teach these just 
 emancipated negroes the elements of learning and 
 the first principles of Christianity. At first they had 
 only to encounter the privations of regions desolated 
 by war, and rendered barren by long years of wasteful 
 and slovenly cultivation ; but very soon after the close 
 of the war, the old hostility between the poor whites 
 and the negroes, stimulated, in some instances, by 
 the prompting of former slaveholders, broke out with 
 a new fury, and not a few of these devoted and faith- 
 ful teachers paid for their zeal with the sacrifice of 
 their lives, while others were driven from their schools 
 with the foulest abuse. A considerable number still 
 adhere to their work, and have succeeded in livincr
 
 482 APPENDIX. 
 
 down the opposition which at first threatened their 
 destruction. Others, in other spheres of duty, are 
 still aiding and helping to elevate the freedmen. 
 
 ''But," it may be said, "why bring forward the 
 names of these philantlisropic toilers now ? They may 
 have been, and doubtless were, zealous and efficient 
 workers in their time, but the heat and pressure of a 
 great war, and the moral stimulus of the emancipation 
 of four millions of people from slavery, are not the 
 just measure of the every-day philanthropy of your 
 country, and we cannot judge of its present condition 
 in this respect by a recital of what was accomplished 
 during the war." 
 
 There is some force in this objection. No nation, 
 however benevolent and earnest its people may be, 
 can keep its philanthropic Avork up to the war stand- 
 ard in years of peace. There is no necessity that 
 they should ; for imperfect as may be the operation of 
 the agencies which attempt to provide for the poor, 
 the ignorant, and the degraded, the sick and the pri- 
 soners, in time of peace, the machinery needful for 
 the great emergencies of war would be found alto- 
 gether too ponderous for the necessities of such a pe- 
 riod. It would be as if the huge boilers and engines 
 of one of our great ocean steamships were put into
 
 APPENDIX. 483 
 
 one of our little river and harbor tugs, to propel it, 
 and enable it to tow vessels about the harbor. Its 
 great size and weight would completely destroy the 
 usefulness of the tug. 
 
 Yet it is true that all these great occasions have 
 developed some of the world's most earnest and effi- 
 cient workers. Florence Nightingale would have 
 been a nurse, and an admirable one, and possibly an 
 organizer of some method of training nurses, if the 
 Crimean Avar had never occurred; but her name and 
 her labours would have been unknown, and she never 
 would have been the means of accomplishing a hun- 
 dredth part of the good she had done, but for the posi- 
 tion wliich she was called to fill in connection with 
 that war ; and how many of her associates would have 
 ever undertaken such labours, but for her noble exam- 
 ple ? The influence which her position in that war 
 gave her has been exerted for good upon hundreds 
 and thousands of her sex ever since ; and though her 
 health was permanently impaired by her labours at that 
 time, she has accomplished more, infinitely more, than 
 any woman without her experience could have done, 
 even with the most perfect health. 
 
 Such, too, have been the results of the ])hilanthropic 
 labours of our own great war. We have already alluded
 
 484 APPENDIX. 
 
 to the fearful sacrifice of life among these faithful 
 toilers in the hospitals, the work-rooms, and the rude 
 school-houses where the freedmen and their children 
 were taught. It was painfully true, that in these la- 
 bours of love many a fair face gi-ew pale, many a quick, 
 joyous step became slow and feeble ; and ever and anon 
 the light went out of eyes, which but a little while be- 
 fore had flashed and glowed in conscious beauty and 
 pride. But though the cheeks might grow pale, the 
 step feeble, and the eyes dim, there was a holier and 
 more transcendent beauty remaining than that which 
 had departed. Of one of these, whose young life was 
 sacrificed to her incessant labours, much as Miss Jones's 
 was, by her overwork in the Liverpool Infirmary, a 
 fellow-worker has beautifully said : " We looked daily 
 to see the halo surround her head, for it seemed as if 
 God would not suffer so pure and saintly a soul to 
 walk the earth, without a visible manifestation of his 
 love for her." 
 
 Yet these women did not die in vain. It has often 
 been said that " the blood of the martyrs was the seed 
 of the Church ; " and these brave, noble-hearted wo- 
 men, though as truly martyrs as any of those recorded 
 in the Church's history, laid not down their lives until 
 others were found who had imbibed their spirit and
 
 APPENDIX. 485 
 
 entered into their labours ; and from these have come 
 some of our most efficient labourers in the glorious 
 work of elevating humanity, of cheering the sorrow- 
 ing, raising the fallen, caring for the sick, the oppressed, 
 the prisoner, and the friendless, and teaching the igno- 
 rant. 
 
 Those, too, who had survived the labours of the 
 war, have felt that they could not return to the gaye- 
 ties and frivolities of fashionable life ; they had been 
 too near the eternal world, and had had too close and 
 familiar intercourse with those who, after life's strug- 
 gles, had passed through the gates of pearl and were 
 now walking the golden streets of the City of our God ; 
 nay, in those moments of spiritual enlightenment 
 which come to the soul \yhen it is accompanying the 
 spirits of the departing, they had themselves caught 
 glimpses of the glories of the heavenly state, and 
 through those gates of pearl had been dazzled by the 
 rays of that light which proceeds from the throne of 
 God. 
 
 To them, after these experiences, terrestrial pleas- 
 ures and joys seemed flat, stale, and unprofitable. 
 Their hearts longed for serious, earnest, beneficent 
 work, and when the wearied body had recovered from 
 its long and exhausting labours, and health and return-
 
 486 APPENDIX. 
 
 ing strength again wooed them to philanthropic work, 
 they looked anxiously about them to see what was to 
 be done. 
 
 For some of them there were, at this time, home 
 duties which, though at first irksome, seemed so evi- 
 dently appointed for them of God, that they entered 
 upon them with an earnestness which soon made them 
 a delight. 
 
 Others were free from these ties, and did not desire 
 to be bound by them. To such, the inquiry was one 
 of greater significance. They felt that they had been 
 useful, and they were capable, with their experience, 
 of being more so ; in the numerous instances in which 
 their work had been brought into comparison with 
 that of tlie other sex, they had not failed either in 
 executive ability or in the perfection or excellence of 
 their labours ; to man there was the opportunity of re- 
 turn to his former vocations, — to the round of duties 
 in which he had previously been engaged ; to them 
 and for them there was no vocation which they could 
 specially call their own. 
 
 So reasoned some ; not wisely, it is true, yet very 
 naturally. It was and is the part of these gifted 
 women to make for themselves a sphere of. usefulness, 
 where they could glorify God and bless humanity ; and
 
 APPENDIX. 487 
 
 to many of them the way to accomphsh this became 
 plain. Their zeal had triumphed over all obstacles 
 during the war ; was it more difficult to do so in time 
 of peace ? 
 
 To a few, a very few, of these women, the idea of 
 the emancipation of woman by giving her the ballot, 
 and permitting her to enter upon the devious ways of 
 political and partisan strife, presented very adroidy by 
 its advocates, seemed a satisfactory answer to the 
 question which was agitating their minds. TJiey 
 could not then see that, in his specious appeals for 
 their aid, the tempter, as of old in the Garden of Eden, 
 was luring them away from the paths of purity and 
 holiness, and that beneath the fair-seeming surface of 
 this plea for female emancipation there lay hidden the 
 abominations of unhmited divorce, and the wildest 
 orgies of "free love." The delusion found but few 
 adherents among these noble women when its hrst gla- 
 mour had passed away, and they began to see clearly. 
 There was, nevertheless, some difficulty (more in this 
 country than in Europe) in finding exactly the work 
 for these women \\hich their hearts craved. The hos- 
 pital work is not, among Protestants, so much in the 
 hands of women in the United States as in Europe. 
 It is far less so than it should be. We have already
 
 488 APPENDIX. 
 
 referred to the founding and superintending of an hos- 
 pital for women and children by Miss Parsons at. Cam- 
 bridge. There are in New York City two hospitals 
 for women (including one special hospital, there are 
 three) ; these are for the most part supplied with female 
 attendants, and several of the others, notably " St. 
 Luke's Hospital" (F.piscopal), "St. Vincent's" (Ro- 
 man Cathohc), " The Stranger's Hospital," and per- 
 haps two or three more, have the nursing mostly un- 
 der the superintendence of intelligent and capable 
 women. The Foundling Hospital, and the various 
 Lying-in Asylums and Hospitals, are also mainly in the 
 charge of women. But most of the larger hospitals 
 are under the care of male nurses, or a lower grade of 
 female nurses, not very competent, and receiving but 
 small wages. The workhouses, almshouses, and 
 houses of detention in our large cities, though some 
 of them as extensive as those of Liverpool, where 
 Miss Jones created such a revolution, have been 
 mostly served by nurses selected from their inmates, 
 and have never yet been under the intelligent care of 
 a thoroughly trained and competent lady superintend- 
 ent of nurses. 
 
 Recently considerable efforts have been made to 
 elevate the care and nursing of the sick to the dignity
 
 APPENDIX. 489 
 
 of a profession, and to induce intelligent and educated 
 women to pass through a course of training to qualify 
 themselves for the work. There are very many young 
 women who have a natural vocation for this work, and 
 whose position is such that they must, in part at least, 
 provide for their own support, to whom this would be 
 a most honorable and useful calling. Our physicians, 
 especially since physical and positive diagnosis by 
 means of the thermometer, the observation of the 
 pulse and respiration, have become such important ad- 
 juvants to successful treatment of disease, are calling 
 for skilful nurses, who shall be able to make the neces- 
 sary observations with accuracy and report to them. 
 This delicate duty can be performed much more suc- 
 cessfully by intelligent women than by men. In many 
 thousands of families, too, a woman of refinement and 
 culture, who devoted herself to the care of the sick, 
 would be prized as a personal friend, and her services 
 would be willingly and largely compensated. Miss 
 Nightingale's appeal on this subject, in the introduc- 
 tion to this work, is worthy of careful consideration, 
 and is as apphcable to the United States as to Great 
 Britain. 
 
 Some of the most earnest and able of the hospital 
 workers in the late Civil War have found the opportu-
 
 490 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 nity of usefulness in the recent wars in Europe. In 
 the "Seven Weeks' War" of 1866, Miss Mary J. Saf- 
 ford, a young lady of Cairo, Illinois, highly accom- 
 plished, and who had impaired her health by her ardu- 
 ous labors in behalf of the wounded of our Western 
 armies, was in Europe, and aided in organizing the 
 hospitals in Italy, and in caring for the wounded. 
 After the war she visited Norway, and there devised 
 ways and means for the emigration of peasant girls to 
 the United States, where they might join their relatives 
 who had already migrated thither. Miss Safford is one 
 of those who will create modes of usefulness, if she 
 does not find them already at command. 
 
 In the late Franco-German War, and the Civil War 
 with the Commune which followed it, a considerable 
 number of American ladies have taken an active part 
 in organizing and superintending hospitals, ambulances, 
 and stations of relief. Several who were at Paris when 
 the war commenced united with English ladies, and 
 with gentlemen from both England and America, in 
 fitting up and attending the ambulances, or travelling 
 hospitals, which cared for the French wounded ; and 
 some of them continued their services in Paris during 
 the siege until they were broken up and their supplies 
 and funds confiscated by the Commune. The Amer-
 
 APPENDIX. 491 
 
 ican woman, however, who has accomplished most for 
 the sick, the wounded, and the starving victims of the 
 sieges of Strasbourg, Paris, and other cities, is one 
 who had achieved a noble reputation in our own war 
 and subsequent to it,— Miss Clara Barton. Her labours, 
 and the good she accomplished during our civil war, 
 are matters of history, and so widely known that we 
 need only refer to them. She ministered to our sol- 
 diers from the very beginning of the war, first in hos- 
 pitals in Washington and its vicinity, afterward in field 
 hospitals, at Cedar AEountain, Manassas, Centreville, 
 Chantilly, Antietam, and Fredericksburg, where she 
 was lady superintendent of the Ninth Corps Hospital ; 
 camped on the sands at Morris Island, and for eight 
 months of the protracted siege of Charleston, made 
 herself the ministering angel of the brave corps that 
 demolished Forts Wagner, Gregg, and Sumter. In 
 the terrible campaign of 1864-5 she was again for 
 more than eight months in charge of the wounded, 
 and most of the time lady superintendent of the hos- 
 pitals of the Army of the James, in the field. After 
 the war she established, at her own cost, a " Bureau 
 of Records of Missing Men," and where she could not 
 restore to families their long-missing husbands, brothers, 
 and sons, she was able, in thousands of cases, to give
 
 492 APPENDIX. 
 
 them the history of their last moments, and show them 
 where they were laid. In 1869 she visited Europe, 
 and in July and August, 1870, assisted the Duchess of 
 Mecklenburg-Schwerin, and some of the other German 
 princesses, in organizing their hospitals for the sick 
 and wounded. When Strasbourg surrendered (Sept. 
 29, 1870) she entered the city with the German troops, 
 and immediately established industrial rooms at her 
 own expense, where she employed nearly three hun- 
 dred of the wives, widows, and daughters of the French 
 soldiers in making up garments for distribution among 
 the very poor of that cit)^, thus giving to her charity a 
 double force — by employing at liberal wages all who 
 could labour, and clothing the naked by means of that 
 labour. • A portion of this large expenditure was subse- 
 quently refunded to her by the Comite de Secours of 
 Strasbourg, but a considerable part, as well as all her 
 own time and labour, was her donation to the suffering 
 poor of that city. This work was continued until the 
 last of May, when, Strasbourg being restored to a con- 
 dition of comparative comfort, she forwarded several 
 thousand garments to Paris, and entered that city while 
 the fires lit by the Communists were still burning, and 
 there distributed her own charities, and those of some 
 of her American friends, for six weeks. She next visited
 
 APPENDIX. 493 
 
 Lyons, and at the last reports was engaged in a mis- 
 sion of charity to those cities and towns along the 
 Rhine frontier which had suffered most severely from 
 the ravages of the war. Here, too, was a woman who 
 could make for herself the opportunity of enlarged 
 usefulness without forsaking her aj^propriate sphere 
 of womanly work. 
 
 In other departments of Christian activity which 
 pertain to women, and which for want of a better 
 term we may perhaps designate as "deaconess's 
 ^vork," many of our American women have done 
 themselves honour. Of those who were most active 
 during the war, some, like Mrs. Bickerdyke, Mrs. Hos- 
 mer Mrs. Wittenmyer, Mrs. Davis, and others, have 
 organized and superintended ''Soldiers' Homes;" 
 others have gathered the orphan children of the sol- 
 diers into Homes and Schools, and cared tenderly for 
 them- others still, like Miss Brayton and Miss Terry 
 of Cleveland, have combined these and other good 
 works for the cause they loved ; and the blessing of 
 those that were ready to perish has come upon them. 
 In Cincinnati, Chicago, Boston, New York, Phila- 
 delphia, and Washington, a considerable number of 
 these earnest workers have undertaken a painful but 
 most thoroughly Christian work-the reclamation of
 
 494 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 fallen women ; others, deeply and justly impressed 
 with the perils to which young and friendless girls, who 
 come to our large cities for employment, are exposed, 
 have established homes and lodging-houses for them. 
 Still others have founded and managed Homes and 
 Protective Unions for working-women. A consider- 
 able number, for the love they bear to Christ, have 
 become city missionaries, Bible readers, tract visitors, 
 and friends of the poor, the sick, and the prisoner. 
 In several of our cities, Helping Hand or Good Sa- 
 maritan Associations have been formed by the prompt- 
 ing of some of these Christian women, which in their 
 various departments aim to reach all classes needing 
 either spiritual or temporal assistance. Some, in imi- 
 tation of the Divine example, have associated them- 
 selves in a good and merciful work — that of minister- 
 ing to strangers who are sick or in trouble in our large 
 cities, and have taken the very appropriate name of 
 " Sisters of the Stranger." To others, with a greater 
 gift for teaching, the educational work in mission 
 schools, industrial schools. Houses of Industry, &c., 
 has been committed ; while some fifty or sixty have 
 gone as missionaries or missionary teachers to Syria, 
 Turkey, India, Burmah, China, Siam, to the African 
 coast, or to the islands of the Pacific.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 495 
 
 And yet there is abundant room for many more to 
 enter on these various fields of usefulness. Vice and 
 crime, ignorance and wretchedness, poverty and sor- 
 row, abound in our world, and will continue to do so 
 till the dawn of the millennium. There is no grander, 
 no holier work in the universe of God, than that of 
 raising the fallen, of succouring and sustaining the 
 tempted, of causing the tears of penitence and humble 
 faith to fall from eyes long blinded by sin, of pouring 
 the balm of consolation into bleeding and stricken 
 hearts, of calming the stormy rage of passion, and 
 soothing the violence of disease. We have often 
 thought that the angels, nay, that the compassionate 
 and sympathizing Redeemer himself, must look down 
 with peculiar affection and tenderness on those who 
 thus seek to follow in His footsteps. 
 
 Need we say that in the various departments of 
 this work of Christian charit}', — the visiting of the 
 poor at their homes, rendering them assistance and 
 counsel in their work, and in the art of making home 
 happy, the care and instruction of their little ones, — 
 the gathering and training of vagrant and wayward 
 children in knowledge and religion, the nursing and 
 assistance of the sick poor, the performance of the 
 last sad offices to the dying, the soothing and comfort- 
 
 2 K2
 
 496 APPENDIX. 
 
 ing of the bereaved, — the providing employment for 
 those who need it, and the bestowal of charity where 
 it will encourage, and not pauperize the recipient ; — 
 the imparting of direct religious instruction, either by 
 Bible reading, tract distribution, or personal and kindly 
 conversation, and other works of Christian charity, 
 which fall to the lot of the woman who has thus con- 
 secrated herself to Christ, there is needed a high in- 
 telligence, the wisdom which is from above, an untir- 
 ing zeal, an unfailing patience, and those winning and 
 gentle manners which shall draw all hearts to her, and 
 through her to the Master whom she serves. It must 
 be to her a vocation, and she must feel that, while in 
 God's providence she is called to this work, her high- 
 est powers and her whole soul are to be consecrated 
 to it Yet to those women possessing these qualities, 
 women who have felt the joys of pardoned sin, and 
 who would fain do something for Him who has re- 
 deemed them, what calling can be more attractive, 
 w^hat vocation more satisfying to the soul ? They 
 follow, so far as mortals may, in the footsteps of the 
 Blessed One who, in all his earthly pilgrimage, left no 
 sorrow unalleviated, no tear undried, save His own ; 
 and will it not be to them the great and sufficient 
 recompense for all their cares, their sorrows, and their
 
 APPENDIX. 497 
 
 weariness, that, standing before the great White Throne, 
 in the presence of an assembled universe, the King 
 of Glory shall say to them, " Inasmuch as ye have 
 done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, 
 ye have done it unto me." 
 
 Consider, too, the glorious results which will follow 
 from this expansion of Christian charity. Society will 
 be purified and elevated ; giant evils, which have so 
 long thwarted human progress, overthrown ; the strong- 
 holds of sin captured and destroyed by the might of 
 truth, and the "new earth, wherein dwelleth righteous- 
 ness," so long foretold by patriarch, prophet, and apos- 
 tle, become a welcome and enduring reality. 
 
 And they who have wrought this good work, as, one 
 after another, they lay down the garments of their 
 earthly toil to assume the white robes of the redeemed, 
 shall find, as did Enoch of old, that for those who walk 
 with God, death has laid aside his terrors, and they 
 shall be translated peacefully and joyfully to the man- 
 sions of their heavenly inheritance, while waiting choirs 
 of angels shall hail their advent to the transcendent 
 glories of the City of God above. 
 
 THE END.
 
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