Letters to a Clerical Friend and His Wife, from 1870 to 1875

December 30, 1870.

I really do not wish any signature, but F. R. H. to my tunes in Havergal’s Psalmody. I do not want to be conspicuous as to them; every one will think it presumptuous to have written them at all, and I would far rather keep out of sight as to them, though I feel the opposite as to being recognised as editor, which is a different thing. For the public who do not know me, my full name would have been an introduction, but my initials would answer no purpose at all. Therefore, I prefer yielding my wishes, and have crossed off my name and initials from the preface altogether, and let the Havergal Psalmody be anonymously edited.

My mother has given me too many plain hints, for me to pretend not to know her wishes in this matter, and I have definitely set it before myself, God helping me, that whenever I do ascertain her wishes in anything, I will follow them at any cost. But I thus forego an advantage which is not likely ever to be given me again, of gaining a musical footing of this kind, and one which I have fairly earned in all these months of musical editing and composing, and one which might have no small bearing upon my whole future path. It was with my dear father’s express approval that I gave my full name to Ministry of Song. And I cannot say I see the difference now.

As for making the sacrifice (for such it is under the circumstances), I cannot say I have had grace enough to do it cheerfully, for I have felt naughty and vexed about it. I only do it, because it is right, and because I really wish to please my mother. Will you pray that I may have grace not to do it somewhat regretfully and reluctantly (because it will affect my own song publishing), but to feel rightly and be right in God’s sight. I want to make my birthday season a * henceforth ’ in Christian life (2 Cor. v. 15), and really .QVQ unto Him; not merely have ’ a name to live.’

On Sunday morning that spirit of prayer which I do so value, and for which I do so long, seemed suddenly to come upon me, and with it a special impulse to dedicate myself afresh to Jesus; and so I did, entreating Him to make me more entirely His than ever before. I brought every faculty, every gift, even every member separately to Him, to sanctify each to His service and praise. But since then, I have not been consciously much the better for it, and I have not been as much in prayer as I could wish.

There are many reasons why I like the country better than town, but one of the greatest is, that when I am walking in the country, I am often much in prayer; and in the town, where, of course, I have many home errands to do, and calls to make, I never seem able to get the quiet enjoyment.

You are one of my greatest responsibilities in this now closing year. It is no light thing to have had such prayers, such counsel, such loving watchfulness over my soul — aii this ought not to leave me as it found me, and I hope it has really not been in vain in the most important respect. As to cheer and solace and comfort, it has certainly not been in vain, and God knows how much darker the shadows of this sorrowful year would have been if He had not so graciously sent you to lighten them. I am so thankful God has given me such a kind and true friend since my Jear father’s death.

December 1870.

Is the great darkness passed? I have been praying so much for you, and whenever I pray, that 2 Cor. i. passage comes again and again in connection with you. Is it not worth this great suffering if it is laid upon you for His people’s sake, as I think it is? And in this sense all that you have suffered in these last few days is indeed the ’ fellowship of His sufferings.” Fellowship ’ must be, and is both-sided; and so He, too, must have had fellowship in your suffering.

I am so glad Christmas Day falls on Sunday this year; it takes off the edge of the anniversary feeling.

No sad anniversaries for your little darling — never.

I do so pray that Jesus may be so very present to you both, that your great sorrow may even now be turned into ‘great joy,” I suppose He can do it, and so I ask it.

Do not pray any more, or you will be the worse for it — we have committed (the dear sick one) to God; perhaps

He would have us now leave it restftilly with Him. He has heard, and He knoweth our frame.

I do hope you will not do anything unnecessary while you are away. You must need rest so sadly — the present ’ temples ’ are only day, and you must not forget that fact, and work as if they were iron and brass. Do not write a word to me which is not actually necessary, till your eyes and head are better.

‘O for a lodge in some vast wilderness! ’ etc. I should have enjoyed living before Caxton. Mustn’t it have been nice to have no publishers?

Skating has cured me.

I am going to sing some sacred music, and my father’s Christmas carols, ‘How grand and how bright!’ ‘So happy all the day! ’ at Mr. Bromley’s annual parochial tea-party to-night for 500 poor people.

On Wednesday I am to give an evening’s sacred music to the patients in the Hydropathic here. Lately I sang at a large party, invited expressly to hear me; so 1 took it all prayerfully, and had my own way, and sang my most sacred songs, hoping some might be a ’ message, When I came away, our clergyman, the Rev. J. S. Ruddach, with kind and grave emphasis said, ‘I thank you for your sermon to-night.’

1871.

When you pray for me, will you ask that I may use my influence ahvays wisely and earnestly. I think God gives it me, for I should not know how to try to get it! Mr. Shaw said the other day, ‘You are a queer body, F.!” Why? ‘I said. * See, here is every one making arrangements to get a tete-a-tete with you! ’

It is queer, but a great responsibility. That is why I actually rather dread a visit to a large household; for each one separately, as a rule, seems to imagine they must pour out all their difficulties and feelings to me in private, often down to the very servants; and though I am thankful for the opportunities this gives, you cannot think what a strain it often becomes upon heart and nerves. I hope not many are the repositories of as many sad secrets, spiritual and temporal, as I am.

A dear young friend married the Rector of a immense parish, and feels overwhelmed, not merely with the vast work which might be done, and to which no young, lady could be physically equal, but with the sense of being too young to ‘presume ‘to try and talk to people and influence them and so forth. She has got disheartened and tempted, and this was why she was so eager for me to come. She was one of what are called c Frances’ ladyloves; ’ for it is a joke among my friends, what a remarkable hold I often get upon young girls. To me it is anything but a joke — rather a very solemn responsibility; for the influence I feel and know I do get, is often quite extraordinary and unaccountable to myself.

1871.

I do not think you ever need fear for me again as to High Churchism, for my three weeks’ visit here has been about as strong a test as I could well have; and yet I feel I have not swerved a hair’s breadth in my sympathies, which are perhaps more strongly and consciously than ever before on the Evangelical side. Here, I have been in contact with the best type of High Church, not merely as to exceeding beauty of musical services, without any absurdities of ritualism, but the Vicar, with whom I have had a great deal of conversation, is just one who would influence me in the matter if any one could. He is candid, gentlemanly, and kind, and I have immense respect for his intellectual powers, and no more doubt of his personal piety and real religion than I have of yours! And yet I feel I am not swayed in the least. He holds the whole High Church scheme, beginning with baptismal regeneration. I never saw before how complete each scheme is in itself. I always wondered why people did not hold some doctrines of one school, and some of the other, but I see now; and so my allegiance is given in more entirely than ever to the Evangelical side, and I never could go with the other in anything, because I now understand that it must be all or none.

We have had some delightful excursions, and yesterday, to my intense delight, spent several hours on the heights of a real wild Yorkshire moor, with nothing but moor and sky, and distant sweeps of hills and heather, and peewits and grouse and bogs and rocks! Just what I enjoy!

On the Peak of the CORNER GRAT, 10,200 feet high 1 July 14, 1871.

I must write you a few lines from this grandest of all God’s great mountain temples. You never had a letter from this altitude before! It is stated to be without exception the finest mountain panorama in Europe. We slept at the RhTel (8000 feet), and climbed up here for sunrise, starting at 3 A.M. It is now 9 A.M., and we have been up here all the time and alone till a few minutes ago. It is an exceptionally glorious morning, a magnificent sunrise, with all that wonderful rose-fire which I loo LETTERS TO A CLERICAL FRIEND

told you about in my c circular ’ from Bel Alp. And now there is not a cloud, and every peak stands out white, sharp, and clear against a deep blue sky. We had to walk about a little space of three or four yards (snow being all round) till six o’clock, to keep warm till the sun got power, for all was hard frozen till then, — now it is quite hot. I have been reading and praying in this marvellous scene, and now writing. Of course our guide carried up provisions for us, as we wished to stay, and sent him down; so we have breakfasted on hard eggs and bread and wine!

Dear friend, it is utterly impossible to write hymns here — there is not the remotest chance of one unless we had some spell of bad weather! You cannot think what it is; always something to look at or do — every step needs looking at, it is not like walking along a road; then the flowers are most distracting, myriads of lovely things, then goats and cows, and our scrambling or gambolling about the rocks, not to mention the ever-changing effects of mountain and cloud; one cannot possibly concentrate thought on any subject, even in prayer — ejaculatory prayer is all that seems possible. Perhaps this is the &<s. possible thing for me; I feel as if it was restoring, not merely physical but mental balance. At present it really seems as if I could neither think nor write of anything but ‘Switzerland; ’ and when I am not out and about, I generally take the opportunity of going to sleep, as E. C. and I are usually up before five and often before four.

I do so wish you and Mrs. would come to

Switzerland, it is so utterly different from just messing at English watering-places. I cannot imagine why people who can afford it do not come.

It is very difficult to believe that David never was in .Switzerland!

I did not forget my dear Perry Y. W. C. Association members last night — their 7.30 was 8.10 here (difference of time 40 minutes).

ZERMATT, 1871.

... Do you hear anything of our proceedings? I hope you do, and only wish you could see us at it! I

am thankful I promised before leaving England

that I would not go anywhere that / considered dangerous, for I am sure I have been nearly all day in places which you would think awful! The result, however, is, that I have not felt so well for years, and have quite lost that constant sense of weariness, which was so oppressive to me. Our tour has been so singularly pleasant in every way that it almost makes me tremble, and I have been wondering whether it is a gracious ‘nevertheless afterwards’ of great sorrow behind, or whether it may be a preparation for some great and unguessed sorrows to come. Any special enjoyment is nearly always one or the other as far as my experience goes. I am so glad I am coming to see you, instead of going home direct; for last time I was in Switzerland, my greatest anticipation was telling my dear father all about it, knowing how exceedingly interested he would be, and I knew I should feel fresh pain and loss if I went to Pyrmont Villa, which hardly seems home now. The only cloud upon this summer is that even the very independent way in which I am going about (much as in other respects I enjoy it) constantly reminds me that I am an orphan and alone, and often I feel it bitterly. I do not think you could quite understand how I mean, for you as a wife have an even nearer and greater and dearer protection than a father j and yet it is a sort of relief to say out this sense of loneliness for once, just for once.

Will you ask your Y. W. C. A. members to pray for a young Swiss girl, waitress at this hotel, in whom I am immensely interested. I have been reading the Bible with her each day, and I do trust she is really awakened, though I cannot say more than that yet. She is a singularly sweet and charming girl, and has been brought up a Romanist (no Protestants here), and I found her, not thoughtless, but trying to earn salvation by good works; and finding that she ’ could not be good enough,’ she fears death; and ’ why should I not, when I do not merit heaven and must go to purgatory? ‘So the free salvation is good news to her.

OAKHAMPTON, 1871.

I do feel so much better already for the utter quiet and rest here. Glad as I shall be to see my sister return, I am gladder still to have these three days without needing to speak to any one or feeling that any one wants to speak to me, or wonders what I am about.

I am amused at your thinking my sister Miriam might not like me to come thus before her! The terms we four sisters are on, are simply, that each really and honestly likes nothing so much as that each should do or have exactly what she likes or fancies she likes! We understand each other so perfectly, it would never cross my mind ’ would she like it? ’ because if / liked it she would be certain to like me to do it. It is very nice to be thus, all four of us sisters.

It was a rather peculiar ( need,’ and God has exactly supplied it. Already the wretched sense of nervous exhaustion produced by the suspense and strain of last week is quite gone, and though ‘the cross is not removed’ and I am still in much uncertainty (as no letter has reached or could reach me to-day), I can feel quite trustful and restful and acquiescent in all

It is intensely beautiful at Oakhampton (I always think this part of Worcestershire exquisite), and the conservatory and gardens are delicious.

The servants were delighted, and not at all astonished; it seems my sister told them it was quite likely I might drop in any day. They cannot do enough for me, and I have had quite a battle to make them understand that I really do not require five sitting-rooms! Yesterday I only went to church in the morning, as I was very tired; so I only rested, and planned and prepared for my Sunday evening readings. I have decided on ‘The Lord’s Prayer, and the Promises on which it is founded.’ I never worked it out entirely yet, and I think I shall enjoy doing it very much. I only took ‘Our Father ’ last night, including the (i) Means, (2) the Tokens, (3) Privileges, (4) Duties, (5) Promises of Adoption. The servants were most anxious for some singing from Songs of Grace and Glory and Havergal’s Psalmody, and were greatly gratified at my approbation, which was really well deserved. My sister has gone to work in a most systematic way with both books; they learn a new hymn and tune every Sunday, keeping up all the old ones, and the footman learns the bass of every one! No. 642 is a special favourite hymn, and * Hermas ’ the pet tune. I am delighted to find that my sister is making quite a lo.i LETTERS TO A CLERICAL FRIEND

deaconess of Sarah (the nice maid); she gives the whole evening after five o’clock tea regularly to visiting and reading, and very often a whole morning also; she is beautifully humble and thankful to be allowed to work thus. I find she knows every cottage in the parish, and can tell me about every one; she will be charmed to help me beat up for cottage readings.

This morning I went a delicious stroll; you have no idea how beautiful some of the lanes are, and so full of flowers that I am quite consoled for Switzerland even! They are exceedingly luxuriant and lonely and lovely, so I stayed out till near dinner-time enjoying them. I wrote a recitative and another song for my Swiss cantata. I think you will like the latter; it is a sort of sacred mountain song. Then I called on old Mrs. Lane (see ‘Thankfulness for Crumbs,’ below) who is nearly blind, who even now recollects and quotes my dear father’s texts of more than thirty years ago. I do not mean texts of sermons, but what he gave her when visiting her. She was extremely delighted at my coming, and so was another old parishioner whose cottage I passed and went in to see.

THANKFULNESS FOR CRUMBS.

‘Thy words were found, and I did eat them; and Thy word was unto me the joy and rejoicing of my heart.’ — JER. xv. 16.

An old woman of ninety lives in a lonely country

cottage. It is pretty enough, half-covered with roses

and honeysuckle, but it is years since poor Mrs. Lane

has seen them; she is blind. A few years ago

1 Leaflet: Caswell, Birmingham. ministering steps came often to her door, but now they are silent for ever on earth, and the little garden-path is never trodden by any lady visitor. While spending a few weeks in the neighbourhood, I went to see her now and then, and at each visit taught her a short text, and other young visitors did the same.

The last time I saw her, she repeated all the texts she had thus learnt with the greatest delight. She seemed to think the possession of these little texts — only about half a dozen — a perfect treasure, and counted them over like pieces of gold.

‘Oh dear, Miss, this summer’s gone too quick for me; it made the time pass so pleasant, having all them beautiful texts. I couldn’t tell you how it’s passed away the time. There’s “/ am poor and needy, but the Lord thinketh upon me; “there’s a many as don’t think about a poor old blind body like me, but the Lord does; and that must be for me, Miss, because I’m very poor, Miss, just like it says in the verse. And then there’s” When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee;” that’s my companion, I call it, Miss; you wouldn’t believe what company that is to me, and it seems to take me through all my little troubles of every day; I don’t think that’s been out of my mind an hour since you learnt it me. Ah! I know what came next — ‘•’•Having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the end;” that was right, wasn’t it, Miss? I couldn’t say it rightly at first, but I’ve got it faster than any now, since you taught it me over again; that’s always my comfort when I feel so sinking like, and I think perhaps it’s the end coming near, and then He’ll love me unto the end. But that last one I learnt — io6 LETTERS TO A CLERICAL FRIEND

“Thine eyes shall see the King in His beauty” — that is beautiful; oh, it is a beauty! My poor eyes, Miss, that can’t see you, it says they shall see Him; to think of that now! well, to be sure now! ’ and the dear old woman’s voice lowered, murmuring on in broken exclamations of happy anticipation, till she seemed almost to forget her visitor’s presence.

What a lesson of thankfulness for crumbs! Far too infirm to reach any service, no one to read to her, her only companion being a somewhat graceless greatgrandson, away at work all day; no treasures of earlier teaching to fall back upon, nothing but six little texts, and these filling the poor blind woman’s heart with comfort, making the lonely summer pass ‘too quick,’ and being ’ company ’ to her, night and day! What an illustration of the satisfying power of the Spirit’s teaching, and what a reproof to those who, with access to all the full and precious promises of the Word, give scanty time and thought to their appropriation!

And may it not suggest the value of trying to fasten God’s own words in the memories of those whom we visit? A whole chapter read and explained may leave a happy impression, but a few words actually learnt are often far more useful. Never mind if the weak or aged memory cannot at first retain them, — go over the same tiny text next time, and then add another, and by dint of constant repetition, it is wonderful how many will at last be retained, while the increasing stock is increasingly valued, and becomes not only a source of fresh, bright interest, but of true, deep influence upon heart and life.

My sister has a weekly reading with the old women of a cluster of almshouses, and has for some time pursued the plan of teaching them a short text every time. They repeat them after her, over and over, just like little children, always saying over in chorus all the previouslylearnt texts; and the pleasure which this appears to give them is almost amusing. Many of the texts thus learnt have been indeed ‘songs in the night,’ cheering long hours of pain and loneliness, and giving new proof of His faithfulness, who says, ‘My word shall NOT return to Me void.’

1871.

It was so good of you to write to me so gently and soothingly, and yet faithfully; you always do. I write pepper, and you write wine and honey. Oh! if you only knew how bitterly I grieve over my own yieldings to my peculiar temptations, I wonder He has patience with me any more. That text touches the very point. I knew it, and felt it for some time past, that I was not ‘keeping my own vineyard,’ always feeling so utterly weary at night that many nights I hardly prayed at all, and the days seemed too full to gain time for what alone can give spiritual strength, — for when I professed to go and lie down, I have nearly every day lately spent the time in writing my own letters, instead of, as I used to do, getting both physical and spiritual rest by lying down and reading the Bible part of the time. So it is no wonder that all three kinds of strength seemed to fail together. If I come back again to finish proof correcting, I must manage better, and shall aim conscientiously and plan carefully to avoid such another breakdown. But though it is so inconsistent, it always seems to me that the very fact of feeling as I do, so utterly sinful and icS LETTERS TO A CLERICAL FRIEND

so full of miserable failure, is just what makes me a great deal more anxious about the other vineyards, and also more eager for every help I can have for myself by the way. Land it is very often when I am feeling the burden of conflict and the bitterness of failure the most, that I am most intensely anxious about others, because if the battle is so hard even with Christ, what must it be wtihouttim; and so I could give the world to be permitted in any way to lead others to Him for safety, or nearer to Him for strength. And it is just because I feel so weak, and so behind what I ought to be, that such things as his Reverence’s suggestions of texts seem so helpful and enjoyable. I catch at them, not because I feel strong, but because I feel I am such a weak Christian; and every failure only makes these desires stronger, though they must seem so inconsistent with them. I know it must seem sometimes to you, when I give way so wrongly by pen (for that is less easy to restrain than even tongue), as if my whole profession must be just hollow and unreal because I do not live up to it; but oh, how I long to do so! I am sure if God deals with me as I deserve, He will leave me outside all the Mission Week blessing, though I plead c even me, O my Father.’ Do you understand me? It is not easy to put it into words.

PYRMONT VILLA, December 23.

I do so hope you are better, and will be able to get easily and happily through the Christmas time.

How strange it is, the difference in one’s power, so to speak, of prayer. Sometimes one could pray for hours, at others one’s very heart seems withered up, and no prayer can flow out, even when one mourns over it and longs to be able to pray. Is this, too, another sovereignty which we have to learn, not merely as one grand truth, but in its every detail. How is it that you seem always able to pray?

Christmas ‘really come again!’ Somehow I never seem to have got the full benefit out of the Holy season. I do so long to realize more of His unspeakable love in ever coming at all to save us, and of the infinite condescension of His taking our nature upon Him, and becoming like unto us, that we might be made like unto Him.

OAK HAMPTON.

I wonder if you were praying for me this morning, for the cloud seemed lifted, and I could pray. You seem always able to pray, and I fancy you can therefore hardly imagine the unspeakable relief it is, when, after long feeling as if the very tongue of prayer clave to the root of one’s mouth, it is suddenly loosed, and one can pour out one’s heart freely and fully and confidingly. I did not feel well, and did not go to church (which is a long walk) in the morning. I went up on the roof (which is flat and very pleasant), intending only to get five minutes’ refreshment of cool air; a chord had been touched of memories and trials, and, while musing over them, that spirit of prayer which I value more than I can tell you, came on me. I forgot time and walked up and down, praying intensely and with not altogether sorrowful tears, for more than an hour — more than the walk to church would have been. I am sure Jesus was drawing my heart up to Himself. And I had so much to tell Him, so very much to confess, so much to ask, and so much to give thanks for, and so much to say to Him which did no LETTERS TO A CLERICAL FRIEND

not come under either of these. Oh, if I could only always be near and find c access ‘! Sometimes it seems as if I could not pray at all, even if I kneel and cry for ever so long; you can’t think how miserable this is. Besides, I never seem able to speak for Jesus when I cannot speak to Him; and then, as I believe I have His commission, ‘Let him that heareth say, Come, I feel such a traitor and deserter, and I am ‘without excuse.’ I do so long to rise to a higher level of Christian life. It is not that I do not know, but that I cannot grasp the great truths to which you point me, and sometimes everything seems to melt away from me altogether, and I seem to have ’ no part or lot,’ etc. I can tell others all you tell me, but often all these precious truths seem to slip from numb fingers, and I am left with nothing, and can get no comfort at all but by beginning over again, and coming to Jesus, on the strength of His simplest and most elementary promises (so to speak), coming as a little child or an utter sinner.

February 22, 1872.

I wonder if you will recognise the answer to your prayer as sent in another hymn, ‘The Infinity of God,’ and, I think, higher form? Strangely enough on Sunday, not a hymn but a poem came to me, — certainly one, I think, of my best, and among my longest, — ‘The Sowers.’ In the course of this (which I have been giving leisure time to for three days, and hope to finish in another half-hour this afternoon) I found myself led suddenly, and by an unexpected turn, to the grandest attribute, the ‘Infinity of God,’ and wrote a few verses on that theme, which are perhaps what you would have liked as a

AND HIS WIFE, 1870-1875. in

hymn, only that they did not fall into that form, and cannot be used as such. Well now, what if that was the direct answer to your prayer, only not for your benefit, but maybe for the benefit of some who will never see Songs of Grace and Glory at all, but who may read this in some magazine, circulating 50,000 or more at a single blow! Can you accept this hymn as an answer?

PYRMONT VILLA.

My daily calendar!

Before 7 A.M. I was ready dressed, including making my bed (only one servant in the house). — 7.30 to 8. Read Greek Testament, part of Rom. vii. and viii. — 8 to 8.30. Wrote to Elliot Stock about pirating my hymn. Copied new hymn, — 8.30 to 9. Prayers and breakfast. — 9 to 9.45. Consulted my mother about letters, calls, and house errands, and dusted drawing-room! — 9.45 to 11.45. Made copy of ‘My Singing Lesson’ for Mr. Bulloch, and wrote to him; corrected a Fireside proof; looked over my song, ‘Whom having not seen, ye love,’ 1 which I am going to publish at last for the benefit of the ‘Female Home ’ here; wrote to Hutchings and Romer for estimate; and wrote three letters about the ‘Home ’ fund — a pretty stiff two hours’ work. Then went to call on, and take out for a walk, a young lady whom I have been asked to visit and influence, in a very vortex of worldly society and gaiety. We walked alone, did what I could, and I deposited her at her house again, time enough for dinner, at 1.45. — 2.30. Mrs. Beresford, daughter, and friend called, partly about the Irish

1 ‘Whom having not seen. ‘Sacred Song. Published by Hutchings and Romer, 9 Conduit Street, London.

Society, for which one of them collects. — 3 P.M. Wrote

to Mr.. — 3.30. Out with my mother to pay some

calls which ought to be paid. After these, went on alone to two poor Christian workwomen, a mile and a half from here, with a little help for them from a friend. — Home about 5.45 — cup of tea. — 6. Finish off two or three notes and parcels in time for post at 6.45.

When I have done this I shall rest for quarter of an hour, and then, if not too tired, write a little at my story till tea, 7.30.

P. VILLA, 7.30 A.M., February 23, 1872.

Here is your hymn! I have just finished copying it out, and write at once, that I may run with it to the early post, if it stops raining (it is tqo far to go if wet). The verses came to me almost exactly backwards, in this order — 5, 3, 4, 2, i! beginning at the end. I don’t recollect ever writing dactyls before; but the magnificent words in Ex. xv. came to me first as a ready-made line, ‘Glorious in holiness, fearful in praises ‘! and I saw the grand swing of it, and did the rest to correspond. The poem is more akin to my Hymn 1025, * Sovereign Lord and gracious Master,’ than to this subject, upon whirh it merely touches.

I think you are simply tempting Providence by having gone on in this way without any rest or break. I do not believe in ‘•cannot;’ for it is not merely ’ where there’s a will there’s a way,’ but it will probably come at last to ‘must,’ and the Mull in life’ which you might have gained benefit by for yourself and others be enforced by illness, which will make it all time lost instead of gained. I feel very strongly about it, because it is what my best friends usually distress me by doing, and I will make no more friendships with people who will commit slow suicide. There must be physical retribution sooner or later.

A new idea occurred to me in the night, which I wonder I never thought of before. How would it be to have a packet of ‘Leaflets from Songs of Grace and Glory! by F. R. H.? Parlane would do them for nothing, and give us probably six dozen packets of 50 or 60 in each.

I was so sorry that I lost a special opportunity of a ’ word for Jesus ’ last night. I met some strangers with other friends. Partly because it was a splendidly resonant room, and partly because I knew there were some present who would sympathize vividly with me, I sang my music to, ‘Whom having not seen, ye love.’ I am conscious I sang it unusually well (so as, I am sure, you never heard me sing yet). It seemed to have an extraordinary effect on the stranger. He told me he was so unprepared for anything of the sort, and that it did not seem like singing, but something quite different (he implied preaching) — that he positively could not speak for a minute or two, and I saw that his eyes were moist. And yet, with such an opportunity, — for I believe I might have said what I liked at that moment with effect, — I let some little thing break the spell and divert my attention, and let the opportunity slip. Oh, I have so regretted ever since that I did not at once speak of Him and for Him as I might have done!

Sometimes this losing any opportunity is overruled to

1 Six Packets of Leaflets, by F. R. H. Messrs. Parlane & Caswell.

H make me more watchful for the next opportunity, but that does not lessen the fault.

February 1872.

There is much prayer going on now here, for a special outpouring of the Spirit. I sent a paper about it to the daily prayer meeting. It has been read out there every day for the last seven or eight days, and most warmly taken up; and this has brought out the fact that the same thing is, in a very special manner, in other minds too — simultaneous yet without communication; so we hope it preludes blessing.

We are solemnly reminded how short and uncertain our life is; for within a week two deaths have occurred, connected with our family, — Viscount Mountmorres, Mr. Shaw’s brother-in-law. He goes over to the funeral in Ireland, Lady M. being his eldest sister — a real and tried Christian.

Then my brother Frank travelled in wretched weather to Alloa, in consequence of the Earl of Kellie’s death. Isabel was very much attached to him (they are cousins), and she feels his death much.

I have just had a curiously interesting letter from.

He says he has formed a great regard for me, and is exceedingly struck with a poem of mine, which he has accidentally come across. I have replied in a very downright letter, speaking plainly of ‘Jesus,’ as he has given me such an opening. So possibly my visit the first day was not thrown away, though it seemed so useless. I think my having recently been over the fortifications of Belfort interested the General, and he seemed amused that I had studied fortifications generally! He is quite the courtier. After two or three calls on his sweet wife, he came and asked me to pray for and with him; it seemed such humility.

WlNTERDYNE, April 19.

I was so unusually happy on Sunday and Monday, and have not yet lost the happy frame. I told my sister Ellen about Prov. iv. n, but I got something else too. I read on Sunday some of Dr. Candlish on the First Epistle of St. John, and was very much struck with his exposition of the ‘Truly our fellowship is with the Father.’ I do not think I ever had any insight into that fellowship before, though I had dwelt on it as a longing outsider; but somehow it seemed on Sunday eve to be a real thing. I felt it was indeed ’ truly,’ and I could rejoice in it. I am so thankful to get such glimpses, for I do not have many, and so I prize them all the more. But I long to be kept in ’ fellowship.’

Mr. Shaw and my sister speak often and most affectionately of you; they do so really value your friendship. We have Songs of Grace and Glory hymns every night at prayers.

I have been wanting to write to you about a crowded meeting we had last Friday — address by Captain Neville Sherbrooke, very beautiful and earnest. An ’ after meeting’ was held, and many stayed and ‘found peace.’ I had never been at one before; it was very solemn. I wanted to remain quietly kneeling and praying by myself, but felt a strong impulse to go and try to speak to some one, so crept away and knelt down by others and prayed and talked with them; the three to whom I seemed thus sent have all found Jesus — tears changed to thanksgiving. You would not guess who one was — dear little!

She that night really found Christ, and came from the room so happy, and it is evident ever since that she ‘has been with Jesus.’ She has been thoughtful and in earnest on the subject for a long time, I think two or three years, but now she knows she is forgiven and accepted. Another was a young girl who is fatherless, and so attracted my special sympathy. Was it not good of God to give me this great joy?

Mr. Everard and Captain Sherbrooke have promised to come together in the autumn and hold a mission week at Bewdley, and the Rev. Fortescue is so cordial on the subject.

PYRMONT VILLA, Jime 10, 1872.

It seems a long time since I have written to you, but I have forgotten neither you nor S. G. G.! I have had some correspondence with Nisbet (i.e. with Mr. Watson) on my own affairs, and he is so extremely kind and practically obliging, not only about the Ministry of Song, but about my new book, that it has inclined me to hope very much that you will be guided to place S. G. G. in his hands.

My dear mother was very ill immediately after Frank left, and she is not getting on very fast yet. She is just able to get across into her study and lie on the sofa there. I do so long for her to be well again. Dear Miriam, L. C. has been with us; she is so lovely and so quiet and gentle that mother would not have her little visit put off, though she is not allowed to see any one else yet.

Everything seems to prosper with me as to pen. I see ‘The Sowers ’ is in the Sunday Magazine for June. I wish you would look at an article in it on ‘Leisure ’ in the same number, by Dr. John Ker, (who is rather an admiration of mine). I want you to see what he says about the quiet influence of nature, scenery, etc. I believe that is what you and all your party need, though it may not be felt or recognised; and that if you went to some grand fresh scenery, either British or foreign, right away from bricks and mortar and ordinary humdrum routine of watering-places, you and Mrs. S. would be renovated altogether, soul and body, and E. would be rosy. There! that is my view, and long has been.

I had a little party on Friday, and quite after my own fashion, and it was enjoyed much more than an ordinary party! We had a good set-to at hymns soon after tea, and then got our Bibles and read and talked over part of Colossians i. The hymns had done all the icebreaking and thawing first, and so we came to the reading warmed up. I took care to have just a majority of those who were altogether ’ of one mind,’ and then threw in three or four of those whom I want to teach to like spiritual things, and I think these last were quite surprised to find how very nice it was! For it was unquestionably much nicer than the common style of evening party — just gossip and showing photographs and listening to solo music. I do positively believe that nineteen people out of twenty, even without being * very religious,’ would really enjoy joining in good rousing hymns, ten times more than listening to any ordinary drawing-room music. People do not know what they do like till one gives them the chance! They have tried soup and fish and joints and entrees and sweets and dessert and wine, but they do not try the other thing. We are to have a grand hymn spree (!) at Winterdyne u8 LETTERS TO A CLERICAL FRIEND

some evening in the autumn, and you are to come over and assist! We did try the experiment with a party there one evening, and it was so successful that everybody hoped Mr. Shaw would invite them to ’ another of the same.’ Somebody said it was ‘religiously jolly ‘! which expression by no means displeased me, because it is just what I wish, to get people to connect religion with all that is pleasant and joyful. ‘Him serve with mirth ’ — do you remember my asking you to retain that old reading? I am so glad you did.

WlNTERDYNE, May 2$, lSj2.

... How strange that though we prayed so much for guidance, it should seem to have been withheld! Only ’ seem] though; for surely ‘I have led thee in right paths, Prov. iv. n, must follow up, ‘In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths,’ Prov. iii. 6. * The day shall declare it.’ It may be Songs of Grace and Glory has fallen into some hands through H. into which it would not have fallen into through N., and been blessed ’ unto salvation.’ I quite understand now about your going earlier not answering the same purpose as later — thy ’ times are in His hands.’

The day I wrote that hymn I had been particularly struck with Isa. xiii. 3, and specially with the clause, ‘them that rejoice in my highness.’ I thoughr it a delightful expression, and one much overlooked, and so preferred it to using some expression which might be less fresh and suggestive.

On Wednesday a parochial party of 800 came to picnic here, — a special train was advertised to ’ the matchless grounds of Winterdyne,’ and a volunteer band came,

The people so grateful and delightful, but heavy showers partly spoilt the day. (Whereupon Mr. Shaw threw open both the drawing-rooms, and sent for me to sing, ‘Tell it out,’ etc. Even the staircase and servants’ hall were filled with these strangers.)

I fraternized exceedingly with the Vicar, who is a very hearty, energetic little man, perfectly enthusiastic about

* Tonic Sol-fa,’ evangelical, and nice! apparently greatly attached to his people, and they to him. Hi? wife such a worker: has a mothers’ meeting, and all sorts of work among the poor women — among other things a mending class, which took our fancy greatly. They have a capital large choir, who sang off my ‘Tell it out ’ most spiritedly. I am quite sure, now I have heard them sing it, that it is out of sight my best musical hit as to spirit and ring — beats ‘Hernias ’ hollow!

The enclosed testimony to S. G. G. is nice from the Rector of Bayton and brother to ’ good old John Davies ’ of Worcester.

I have written a new song, ‘Thou knowest,’ music only, words by Rea; and another, ‘Singing at sunset,’ words only (while walking with Mr. Shaw among the beeches).

I have also written a piece for Woman’s Work, called

* A Worker’s Prayer.’ Also two poems; but no hymns seem to come to me.

I enclose Mr. Sherwin’s two last letters. Is not his description of the blind poetess, Fanny Crosbie, delicious?

I have just written a verse-greeting to this ’ dear blind sister over the sea.’ It seems I have openings enough and to spare for my pen, now that America is open to me.

Among Foxgloves and Ferns, DOLGELLY,
July 5, 1872.

... I was terribly disappointed at missing the Mildmay Conference; and am praying that nevertheless, I may not miss the hoped-for blessing, but that I may find and meet the blessed Master as much alone in Wales, as in the crowd at Mildmay.

I have had so much encouragement lately, especially in my own special department, — young ladies, — that I ought to be very glad and very thankful. You, more than any one, taught me to give thanks. I had a most deeply-touching interview with K. B. before leaving. I ought to have felt quite lifted up with praise for such a miracle of change in her, but was too tired to rejoice as I ought. I also saw and had a very nice talk with A. B., to whom ‘Another for Christ’ primarily refers.

We were detained near Shrewsbury, — a goods train had broken down on our line and rails were obstructed. After sundry signalling and red-flag runnings, we got shunted on to the other line, passing the scene of the break-down, and regaining the down-line safely. It is singular that thus, at the very outset of my journey, — just the same as last year, — I had a reminder of the need of God’s protection from accident. It only delayed us half an hour, and I found Maria waiting for me at Shrewsbury, and all else was smooth and prosperous.

I enclose you the opinion of an authoress (a very successful one, too) about Bruey. I see my way to Percy i another story for children, besides The Children of the Adoption. But I am come to Wales for rest I

On a Hill, near DOLGELLY,
July*» P.M., 1873.

How I do wish you and Mrs. B. were here. It would be something utterly new to you both, and perhaps would do you as much good as Switzerland, without the fatigue and expense. Summer after summer goes by, and you never get any of the restorative loveliness laid up among the hills; and I do long for a summer to come, when you shall cut the old traditions of that hot and hideous south coast, and the towns that man made, and come and drink in the beauty that ‘God made.’ But for once I am very glad you have been to Brighton, for I am so much pleased at your having asked Amy to come. I am extremely fond of her, and it will be an immense pleasure to have her with me this autumn.

I have left everything to the winds! and have told magazine editors that I am not going to be seen or heard of till my Songs of Grace and Glory work is done; for I mean to devote this Welsh time to getting as well as possible, and as fresh as to wits (and as to soul too, I hope), as soon as possible, so that I may do my best at S. G. G. The only things to pursue me are the proofs of my new book, and a few magazine proofs.

I hear most fervent accounts of the Conference on all hands — it must be a wonderful gathering.

Maria and I have been out since a little before 8 A.M., and are gradually making our way back to tea. We camped from about ten to one on a hill commanding a superb panorama of mountains, with Cader Idris backing up Dolgelly most grandly, and the valley opening down to Barmouth, and a shining reach of sea beyond, — most lovely lights and shadows playing over the heights and slopes, and such delicious sal-volatile air, sea and mountain both. I wish you knew the taste of it, just for once. If it continues fine weather, we think of pushing on at once to Snowdon, as fine weather is important for that. We have not seen a single human being since 9.30 this morning! though after having our hill camp we went all round by the * Precipice Walk,’ which is one of the finest things in Wales, and only three miles from Dolgelly. I do like it!

PONT ABERGLASLYN, July 9, 1872.

I am enchanted with Lord Shaftesbury’s speech, and I marked the whole report very carefully.

I do not feel (as yet) anything like my Swiss strength; still I am much better, and can walk seven or eight miles in the course of the day without much fatigue; but in Switzerland I could do sixteen or eighteen in the same way with less fatigue. No, I was not really well when you met me at the station; but I thought you had seen enough of me to know that I always flash up and look quite well under the little stimulus of any short meeting with anybody! But I am ever so much better now.

I am reading Isaiah in a * portion ’ the same as I read the Psalms last summer, and find it very full and beautiful. I think, thank God, I have rather given up fidgetting and doubting. I really do not see why I should go questioning the everlasting love to me which has given such proofs of my portion in it, by certainly drawing me with so much loving-kindness. So I have shelved that doubt, I trust for ever, and am just giving thanks instead for the great things He hath done for me. The trying to show these things to other doubting hearts has done me a great deal of good. I do not think I ever got so clearly hold of * accepted in the Beloved ’ for myself as the other day, when trying to show a dear girl who had come to Jesus, and yet was fearing and doubting, that as long as John vi. 37 stood, she could not be rejected, and must therefore be ‘accepted.’ She grasped it, and so did I.

The last three evenings I have gone out alone from about six till nine, and nearly all the time have been literally talking to the Saviour. I have so much to tell Him, and ask Him about. Only (shall I ever be satisfied?) I want more from Him — I want Him to speak more to my heart. Sometimes a sweet text or thought flashes into my mind, so powerfully and so independently of any effort of memory, that I cannot but take it as His speaking to me; but then I say, ‘Master, say on; give me more.’

When I come I will tell you some interesting things which have passed lately, too long for letters j but God has been letting me lead many to Jesus, and answering prayer marvellously. Has it ever struck you that it seems His way to send such answers chiefly and most often in cases where the interest is purely spiritual and not at all personal, and to send the delays and trials of faith in those cases which are personally nearest and dearest to us? I have noted this in the experience of many, besides my own.

I am sitting on some heather, with a most comfortable boulder for my back, just above Pont Aberglaslyn. We left beautiful Harlech this A.M., took rail to Portmadoc, and have walked from thence. Harlech really is beautiful, — a splendid sea view partly open, partly the fine sweep of a great bay, with mountains all round, 124 LETTERS TO A CLERICAL FRIEND

culminating in a very fine outline of the Snowdon range, which is seen to great advantage. Then the castle — a real castle, not bits of old walls like Hastings — stands grandly on a prominent rock, and gives the touch of humanity and romance, which is all the place needs. Maria and I had quite cosy little lodgings, — a little sitting-room, and a bedroom a-piece, with attendance and all for 153. a week! No end nicer than 4 guineas a week at that horrid Warrior Square, with nothing to see but houses opposite and a sideways squint of the sea!

On a Rock on the Side of SNOWDON.
July 27, 1872.

Your very kind letter reached me all right this morning. We liked Llanberis so much that we did not leave it sooner than we could help. I left this afternoon at three (the morning was too doubtful as to weather), and have had a glorious walk over the top of Snowdon, which was perfectly clear, and down the Beddgelert side, which is the only one of the four routes which I had not done. When resting on the Snowdon Ranger, an ascent not generally taken, I wrote a little poem, ‘July on the Mountains.’

I am in first-rate trim (am writing now at Port Madoc, Saturday, 10 A.M.), and have walked without any halt straight from Beddgelert here; and though glad to sit down after eight miles’ tramp, I am really not tired! It is a glorious day — it rained all night, so the air is like crystal this morning. I do not think even Anna Shipton’s book, Asked of God, contains more marked answers to prayer in little things than I could recount — it is quite marvellous. Constant prayer meets constant answer j and I do think this is the secret of the fact that I seem able to find my way about the mountains like a Red Indian, even when there is no track at all. I do not recollect such a thing as missing my way or getting wrong by even fifty yards. I have been all over and all round and all about Snowdonia, without ever taking any guide, which most people do even for the straightforward beaten route up from Llanberis to the top. Maria is a first-rate walker; but sometimes I go alone, or she meets

me on the way.

WINTERDYNE, November 13, 1872.

... I am getting on rapidly and delightfully with my volume (Under the Surface). I cannot write a hymn on the * Good Master, but He has just given me something else instead —

‘Thou art coming, O my Saviour!
Thou art coming, O my King! ’

There will be just ninety poems and hymns, and the book will be one-fourth larger than Ministry of Song, though I have left out heaps more. Mother is delighted with my Swiss cantata, The Mountain Maidens.

I have just received a letter from the author of the Old, Old Story, pressing me to publish my Hints to Lady Mission Workers (Nisbet & Co.).

I do so like your thoughts of the temple-service. I fancy it will help me over some of the hewing and chopping, which cannot be very congenial work anyhow! O yes, I do take to that view generally, otherwise I never should have stuck to this work; only, when not feeling so strong as usual, it gets overclouded, and I only see the worry and drudgery of proofs present and to come. If I could have one week’s rest altogether from proofs, I could take the young ladies’ meeting; brt if an extra treble quantity of proofs come every day, I simply cannot do the two things.

We were glancing over individual results of the Mission Week; and it is a very remarkable, and perhaps an unusual fact, that, so far as any of us know, there has been literally no chaff with the wheat of Mr. Snepp’s work here — not one single person who gave apparent evidence of conversion has even in any degree gone back, but rather gone forward. I do not speak of those who merely attended the meetings, and seemed somewhat solemnized and impressed, but of every one, old and young, whom we had any reason to suppose really came to Christ. So much the contrary, that the number has increased instead of lessened; as we know of several who were first aroused during the Mission Week, but found no peace, and who since that have pressed on into the kingdom.

Your telegram just come, dearest Mrs.. It is

easier to pray than to write, when one would give the world to bring one touch of comfort; for one feels how helpless one is, and one knows how strong and able He

1 Many dying testimonies have confirmed F. R. H.’s words. In 1885, F.’s sister was standing by a dying bed, and repeated the text, ‘Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love.’ The dying voice answered, ‘Those were the last words Miss F. Havergal said to me in the Mission Week (1872). She had worked among our choir men and boys. It was the last night, and I shall never forget, when we rose from our knees, how she put her hand on my shoulder and said, “Bryan, here is a last verse for you, * Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love.’” She said more about “that’s comfort for all the way;” but I can’t be sure of her words — but God’s word is true to me now. I never can forget Miss F, in our organ loi.: — M.V.G.H.

is to speak comfort — even now. Oh may He be very, very near indeed, and prove His word to you as He has so remarkably done before, ‘When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee.”1 I am so thankful dear

was not away. I wish I were with you; not that I

could be any good, but only that I do so feel for you in this tremendous loss and sorrow. But that precious verse has now another glorious fulfilment; for ‘Thou hast made her most blessed for ever; Thou hast made far exceeding glad with Thy countenance.’ She is all that to-day.

Yours very, very lovingly, and in deepest sympathy.

December 16.

How could you think about my birthday when you were in such grief? Thank you very much for the parcel — such beautiful pheasants and flowers. It was so kind of you. Let me write to you when I feel inclined, without feeling that it is only taxing you to answer. For I know how wearying it is to have to write when one is all unhinged, and so I want you not to do it. It was such a solace to see your husband yesterday. I meant only to think of his great sorrow, and he was just as ready as ever to enter into ours. You both have that great gift —

‘A heart at leisure from itself,
To soothe and sympathize.’

How our verse will gain in force and meaning as earthly losses multiply! ‘Thou hast made them most blessed for ever.’ It will be more and more to us, till He makes us most blessed for ever.

I send you a wee hymn, * Jesus only ‘: —

1 Jesus only! ‘In the shadow

Of the cloud so chill and dim,
We are clinging, loving, trusting,

He with us, and we with Him;
All unseen, though ever nigh,
‘Jesus only ’ — all our cry.

n.

1 Jesus only! ‘In the glory,
When the shadows all are flown,

Seeing Him in all His beauty,
Satisfied with Him alone:

May we join His ransomed throng,

‘Jesus only ’ — all our song!

With the disciples who feared as they entered into the cloud, it was ‘Jesus only’ when the cloud was past. But don’t you think that for us it is ‘Jesus only,’ in the cloud as well as after it?

(To )

Is it not strange? I had so feared lest I might wander or grow cold here, where there is no external help whatever, and yet God has been so wonderfully good to me (my own classes and readings being, I think, His especial means of grace to my own soul!), that I think I have never yet had a time of such continued peace and joy and communion with Jesus. Sometimes I feel so near, and nearly always able to realize Him as my very nearest and dearest Friend — more, I think, than ever in my life before. I quite marvel at it. Prayer and His Word seem just unspeakably sweet to me, and I have never before felt so much freedom and joy in speaking of and for Him.

My Friday class has increased to twenty, and some of the most unlikely and hitherto careless seem the most really touched and awakened; and none of my other readings or classes seem left without blessing. I cannot tell you how I long to live more entirely to Him; yet, in the light of His felt love and presence, it seems as if one could not do other than live to and for Him.

WINTERDYNE, September 17, 1873.

May to-morrow be bright among many and most happy coming c returns of the day,’ — bright to yourself and to your dear ones, a golden milestone on the homeward path. Excuse pencil — I write from bed, where I have been ever since I got back from the station on Saturday afternoon! Sudden cold and exhaustion; but I am better. We all hope that dear Mr. Snepp may not suffer from his wonderful work here last week. How strange it

was that, after was to have had the lion’s share, and

he only to have opened the work, God should have given him the whole burden and the whole reward! It has been what I have heard of, believed in, and prayed for, but never yet saw in its full extent, — a real ’ shower of blessing,’ felt and seen and manifest and unmistakeable. My sister has come up just now saying, ‘Verily there is great joy in that city ‘! — in house after house greeted with tears of joy either by those who have found peace in Jesus for the first time for themselves, or who are rejoicing over dear ones, long prayed for and now brought into the fold. I cannot describe the intense, tremendous solemnity at some of the services, nor the power which accompanied the Word. I can only say, my brightest hopes and prayers as to the possibilities of a Mission Week are all fulfilled at last. I believe that the ’ ingathering ’ of this week may be deliberately reckoned as ’ hundreds added unto the Lord.’

I am most anxious to have a very earnest, solemn, and useful hymn meeting (my last) on Thursday night. I am told it will be crowded, and I want to make the very most of the opportunity. Will you pray for special blessing on it, and also that, if it be His will, I may have physical strength for it, and freedom from pain?

October 1873.

Very many thanks from my mother and self for the most lovely flowers. They were too good to keep all to ourselves, so two dear invalid friends shared them.

... Do pray for me, that my little preliminaries at Liverpool may be blessed, even as I pray that your work may be blessed. How sad and strange it was that I felt so * far off ’ all the while in Switzerland! and how good it is of the Lord to have let me again come ’ nigh by the blood of Christ,’ and to have so restored to me the joy of His salvation all this summer!

I am so thankful that God has heard my prayer also in taking away all that sense of excitement which I had while in Switzerland, and the subsequent sense of anxiety and depression; so that I have not only the joy, but with it a far more earnest desire to work for Him. It was a great drawback to my enjoyment of Switzerland, that I had not the same fervent desire to work for Him that I had when there with Elizabeth Clay, nor any of the restful and quiet peace and communion which gilded my former tour. But utterly unworthy as I am of any ’ restoration,7 He has now again given it to me, and all this time I have been very happy in Jesus. I do not know how to thank Him enough for this.

I sang my hymn, ‘Will ye not come to Him for life?’ to 150 young people and milliners last night. Some really did ( come ’ at once.

... Will you look at my hymn on ‘Sanctified ’ in the last week’s Christian. It completes the catena of seven in my book ( Under the Surface] — ‘Chosen,” Called,” Justified, ‘Sanctified,” Joined to Christ, ‘Presented Faultless,” Glorified.’ You have them all for Songs of Grace and Glory.

As soon as I can — to-morrow, if pain permits — I shall set steadily to work at my hymn papers, i.e. ‘Specimen Glasses/1 for The Day of Days. I enclose a rough list of what I thought of taking. Some of the best of the lessknown hymns in Songs of Grace and Glory stand alone, or nearly so, under their author’s name (e.g. 957); so I mean to have about four miscellaneous papers, grouping writers instead of grouping hymns, and giving a specimen hymn or two of each.

I have been so happy all day, even in intense and incapacitating neuralgic pain.

Yours in prayerful hope of greater things.

‘Specimen Glasses, Home Words Office, i Paternoster Buildings.

ECCLESTON HILL, October 1873.

Many thanks for forwarding letters and for your prayers. I was wonderfully helped on Saturday evening. The people are the roughest, lowest lot I ever came in contact with, and much depended on a good start with them. So as there were going to be proposals made to them about clubs and doctors and mutual help, I began with a popular song, the burden of which is, ‘Do your best for one another; ’ and after singing a verse or two, I called upon the assembly to join in the ’ chorus’ after each verse! This took wonderfully, and they encored it furiously! So I sang it again, with chorus. So my point was gained, and as soon as the next song was announced they cheered heartily. I am quite sure I never sang more tellingly in my life than ‘He shall feed His flock, and * Come unto Him.’ Mr. Menzies introduced it with a few nice words, and I had all that rough lot listening all through in utter stillness. I felt I had them so in my power that I could shade off into the softest notes and yet be heard all over the great place, which holds 900. The silence and breathless attention would have been remarkable anywhere; but fancy these poor wretches, who certainly never heard anything but the lowest songs before! Mrs. Menzies got twenty-seven of them to come to her ’ reading ’ last night.

My little gospel solo, ‘Will ye not come to Him for life?’ seems blessed. (See Appendix.)

I am so grieved, though not surprised, to hear of your suffering; only I do pray the Lord to spare you any more!

All that we hear goes to confirm the joyful certainty that the work here was indeed a very great one; arid one remarkable thing is, that some who held aloof and would not go even once to hear you, are now stung with remorse at having neglected such an opportunity. Never has

Bewdley been so stirred before. Mr. ’s class last

night, where he reckoned on only fifteen or twenty, was a room-full! I hear he spoke most impressively, and that the attendance is likely to keep up.

Did you know that while you were speaking in the schoolroom, Maria was addressing more than 100 men and boys outside, for whom there was no room inside? They stood in the dark lane for more than an hour listening to her. Mr. Shaw says he has heard her when she did not know, and her power and ability are very remarkable in that line. My sister says she will try to carry on the young ladies’ class which I am hoping to form. So with new classes and a prayer meeting, that makes five new means started.

Mr. Shaw intends putting three or four new hymn books in every pew, and adding a large-type copy in each where there is any elderly regular occupant. Each book will have the number of the pew written in it for security. There are 100 pews and some extras, so he will give about 330 copies of Songs of Grace and Glory.

Just had such a touching letter from my Oakhampton class, with an exquisite Church Service and thimble! and all their signatures, except the young ladies, who have not been consulted! Poor dear girls, God has sent greater blessing among them than I ever saw before; and I hardly realized how great till I read the names one by one, and felt that I had full reason to hope that every one had now joined themselves wholly to the Lord, — about twenty - five of them, — and nearly all have found Jesus for the first time within the last month!

WINTERDYNE, BEWDLEY, November 20.

About Cheltenham, you know how glad I should be to be aide-de-camp to you there, but I am quite clear that I must not think of it. I am not strong enough for another Mission Week, and though I would not grudge the usual penalty of such work, yet I really do not think I am right to risk another of the series of ’ knockingsup ’ which have always followed any special work of the kind. One gets weakened, and ground is lost which I may not regain; and now that such marvellously wide doors are open to my pen, both here and in America, I have an extra motive to try to economize strength, not for myself, (at least, I don’t want it to be at all for myself), but for my Master. You know how I enjoy it, and I can’t tell you the self-denial it has been to refuse fouf such calls in the last fortnight, but I am sure He is saying to me now, ‘Be still.’ It is much harder to say, * Lord, what wilt Thou not have me do? ’ than the other question.

I have some more good news for you about. I

have seen some of girls, and I think the fruit

‘remains.’ They are holding little prayer meetings among themselves, (young ladies’ school), on the plan you recollect my telling them of j not one but several little groups meet together and read and pray! They are most eager to see c dear Mr. Snepp ’ again, — the work among them has evidently been most real, and apparently not one of the whole school has been ’ passed over ’ in the shower of blessing.

Then, do you recollect George? — that nice lad

whom you spoke to on that night, who always stayed till the very last, and always in such distress? This has continued ever since. I was very anxious to see him again, but could not till Sunday. I had him alone, and again he cried most bitterly. I was sure he had really come to Jesus, only he didn’t know it! So I said a little to him about ‘accepted or rejected,’ must be one or other if he came at all; and could Jesus have ’ rejected,’ with John vi. 37 so plain? then he must be actually and truly ’ accepted in the Beloved! ‘I wish you could have seen him — he suddenly looked up, his face still streaming with tears, but lighted up with intense, eager joy — ‘Oh, I didn’t know that before!” But you see it now? ‘And I wish you had heard his fervent ‘Oh yes! ‘He went away rejoicing, and looks a different boy now the great cloud is gone. He is clearly one of your Mission fruits, for he told me he never thought of seeking Jesus at all till the Mission Week.

Mr. Fortescue says that even if he has to preach to empty benches, he should still have to bless God to the end of his days for the Mission Week! I think those who were ’ offended ’ will come back, while meanwhile their places have been much more than rilled up by others; the galleries are crowded now.

Thanks, many, for your prayers for my new book. It is almost ready now. You never said whether or not you liked the title, Under the Surface. I don’t think I shall escape a few criticisms, for some reviewers, who so approved the Ministry of Song, will not be so well pleased with such things as ‘Chosen in Christ ‘! However, I really think and hope that a candid literary opinion would think it rather an advance than a retrogression from the Ministry of Song, I mean as to literary merit; so I ought not to mind getting cut up, if it is indeed for His sake.

Mr. Shaw is going to give an account of what he saw and heard at Cheltenham, instead of his usual Bible-reading to-morrow evening — we hope it will be very useful. He has come back very full of S. G. G.! ’ more than ever convinced that it is Number One,’ and appears to have spoken his mind pretty freely as to the inferiority of the hymns and the singing at Cheltenham.

He says that the Rev. H. E. Bickersteth’s sermon on ‘Thou God seest me,’ and Rev. C. B. Snepp’s on Eph. i. 7, are spoken of as the two sermons of the week, as far as he could hear. Odd that among so many, it should be the two hymn editors that should have been thus marked. How the tide seems gathering strength! Perhaps it is only beginning, and * greater things ’ are yet to be seen.

WINTERDYNE, December 5, 1873.

Many thanks for your note and most interesting enclosure. Poor child, surely she will not be left to wander on such dark mountains!

Is it not strange and sweet? God always gives me what I always ask for — a special ‘afterward,’ either of spiritual blessing to myself or to others, for every special little trial. And so somehow I felt that the really agonizing toothache and neuralgia, which lasted two or three days, would have some ’ afterward,’ and it made even the greatest pain actually sweet to bear. And this time I have had a double ‘afterward’ — one for myself, so marked and so sweet, I cannot tell you about it now, only I have never had a brighter or more remarkable one. The other was my ’ hymn meeting ’ last night. I never have enjoyed anything so much of the sort, not only that I felt so happy myself, but that I never before was able to speak out quite as I did last night, just as if God gave me the ’ words for Jesus.’ And this morning I have heard that one who was present received such great blessing, and was enabled to rejoice then and there in Jesus as she never had done before.

Yesterday morning I had Mr. Shaw’s men and my sister’s boys, twenty all together, and took ‘Seeing Jesus ’ as my subject, starting from John xii. 21, only glancing on the seeing by faith now, but dwelling on the future seeing Him: (i) The certainty; (2) the contrasted effects — glory and joy to His own, terror and woe to others; (3) How; (4) When; (5) Results; (6) ‘Seeing that these things are so, what manner of persons ought ye to be?’ I did enjoy it so much, and all were so attentive and bright and keen in finding passages and catching ideas, and so still and solemnized when I tried to make it all real to them, as indeed I felt it myself”.

I forgot to tell you my chain looks beautiful, and of course I always wear it, and always call it my Songs of Grace and Glory chain!

Christmas Day. — Your beautiful letter was a great pleasure; many, many thanks. God does answer your prayers for me; ever since last July things have been different with me, and this month all is even gloriously bright. I have never felt as I do now.

I have just been delighted in tracing a sort of type in Luke v. One has so long ‘toiled in rowing,’ wearily seeking holiness, wearily striving to blend one’s will really with the Lord’s, yet seeming to have taken almost nothing. Then comes ‘Launch out into the deep,’ deep sea of His promises! And at His word we do it; and let down the net, not in the shallows any more, but into the deep of His great, grand, full, enormous promises. And one finds one’s net filled. Oh, how He does fill it! Every bit of restless longing for — one hardly knew what — taken away, and instead, * satisfied with His goodness.’ Do you know, I deliberately thought that could not be fulfilled to me in this life j I never expected it at all, and yet He has done it for me — just ’ satisfied me.’ I do not mean that this wonderful sense of utter rest and satisfaction precludes sight of and desire for more than I even thought there was to be desired; but this is one of the paradoxes of faith which experience solves. Then, though one does not say, ‘Depart from me,’ yet oh how one endorses the rest of Peter’s cry! I do not know how one could bear the clearer sight of the sinfulness without the clearer sight, too, of the Precious Blood and its full cleansing power. I had only learnt half of i John i. 9, but oh how precious the ’ and ’ now is! Then, ’ they forsook all and followed Him.’ One would like to die for Him, but He has not asked that! So one wants to live for Him; and there seems to me a breadth and depth in that word which I never saw before. It could never be, but that we are not only to Vive/or Him but to live in Him and He in us. And the outcome of the ‘in’ will be the ‘for.’

An external need has been wonderfully supplied. I heard Mr. Rogers, the clergyman that is to be of St. Paul’s, and it was no question of merely liking him, but of very deep thankfulness for such a spiritual provision for us, after all our ecclesiastical troubles and dissatisfaction in Leamington. It was certainly more than I ever expected when I was last at home, that the next time I went to church it would be to sing out of Songs of Grace and Glory; so it was very nice to see the blue covers all over the church on entering St. Mary’s, Rev. T. Bromley’s.

I shall send you some New Year’s verses, ‘From Glory unto Glory,’ which will tell you more than I have time for now. Several times lately I have felt literally overwhelmed and overpowered with the realization of God’s unspeakable goodness to me. I say it deliberately, and with thankfulness and joy for which I have no words; I have not a fear, or a doubt, or a care, or a shadow of a shadow upon the sunshine of my heart. Every day brings some quite new cause for praise j only to-day He has given me such a victory as I never had before, in a very strong temptation, lifted me above it in a way I never experienced yet. And I believe He will ‘keep’ me henceforth as I never before believed possible.

Will you give my love to dear Mrs., and many

thanks for the beautiful studs and Christmas books?

Easier 1874.

I must just write you a line, for to-morrow’s early post, to tell you what a singularly and specially happy Easter Sunday I have had. Oh, it is so real and satisfying, this wonderful blessing which He has given me, this ’ life of faith;’ test after test seems to have been sent during these last four months.

And now this day, which I thought must always be more or less a sorrowful one, (her father’s dying seizure), with always a shadow upon the Easter brightness, has been one of the very happiest of my life. I awoke wondering at the sense of gladness, and I have wondered all day! For it is not, distinctly not, that memory has dulled, or that the loss of my father can ever be other than great, for I suppose, except husband and wife, no tie could be stronger; certainly it was my strongest tie, and it all seems like yesterday. And yet this depth of bright peace, and utter gladness of heart in the joy of being so consciously and closely and altogether His, and ‘all for Him,’ shone away every bit of the shade, and every vestige of ‘shadow’ did indeed ‘flee away.’ Now, could any but Jesus do this for me? I know that nothing but Himself could “have so filled such a void. Oh if, instead of arguing and reading books pro and con, folks would but seek the fulness of the blessing which is to be had!

I never had such a view as to-day of the blessedness of the ’ evermore ’ of consecration. I had asked Him to show me more of the meaning of ‘utterly,’ and ‘only,’ but I had not so much thought about ‘Thine utterly, and only, and evermore to be! ’

In full and glad surrender, we give ourselves to Thee,

Thine utterly, and only, and evermore to be! O Son of God who lovest us, we will be Thine alone, And all we see and all we have shall henceforth be Thine own.

Oh, it was so sweet, so glorious to see something of that, the being His very own, the serving Him and pleasing Him, the being utterly at His disposal, and with Him, and in Him, and all for Him, on and on through ages and ages of eternity. My whole heart said, ‘Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee! ’

It has been such a special day, that I cannot help hoping it may have been given, not for myself only, but to prepare me for some special message-bearing, perhaps only to one, perhaps to many, while I am away. But I never feel eager even for that now; it is so much happier to leave it all with Him, and I always pray, ‘Use me, Lord, or not use me, just as Thou wilt.’ Oh, He is so good to me, I did not really expect He would do so much for me; indeed, I really did not know six months ago that such unvarying peace was possible here. I tell you all this because you said you would pray for me to-day; and if this is not an abundant answer to whatsoever you have been praying for me, I don’t know what it could be! Only I wish everybody had it, and I wish good people would not think it their duty to stay in Romans vii., as I always conscientiously believed till of late! I cannot imagine how they can think that Rom. vii. 25 and Rom. viii. 2 could both describe St. Paul’s experience at the same moment. They seem so clearly consecutive and not contemporaneous. So, ‘Thanks be to God which giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ! ’

WINTERDYNE, March 5, 1875.

Will you pray that patience may have her perfect work in me, and that I may glorify God in pain? It is very keen, sometimes seems almost more than I can bear, especially at night; this goes to retard my recovery considerably. I had advanced to being able to creep across the room, now I am carried again from bed to sofa.

No, dear, not ’ resignation! ‘It is brighter and

sweeter than that — it is ’ rejoicing; ’ even in this terrible pain I could not have imagined that He would have made me so perfectly satisfied and really overflowingly happy in whatever His faithful love appoints, even such real and almost constant suffering as I have had these eleven days past, — never had such pain before except for a single day or night. ‘He giveth songs in the night,’ and all along has enabled me not to sigh but to sing, 1 Thy will be done.” Resignation ’ always sounds to me to have a shade of a sigh left in it. You can’t think how glad and thankful I am that He has enabled you to say the same as to the postponement of your work. I have no doubt but that it will prove to be all right in the end; delay in such a matter may so obviously turn out to have been for the good of the work, and save another appendix 1

There is One, so fair, so bright,
So good, so gracious! Love, and Life, and Light
Are His rich titles. Oh, for Him I long
To be my Hope, my Joy, my Strength, my Song!
Earth’s shadow melts in conquering light away
Before the rising Daystar’s earliest ray.

Hast thou not heard, within some sacred pile,

When hushed the swelling choir, through vaulted aisle,

A sweet low echo lingering of the song,

As would angelic harps the sound prolong?

So through the silent chambers of my soul,

In calmest melody, Thy sweet words roll.