Letters, from 1870 to 1875

PYRMONT VILLA, March 12, 1870.

I have been ill, or something like it — only the old story, nervous exhaustion, with more acute pain than ever before. I am round the corner now, and have been sleeping immoderately the last few days, which is more than any tonic. So ‘I’m not to think of going again to our young women’s rooms, nor of opening my desk to any more serious purpose than an occasional letter, for I don’t know how long!’ So I have not been able to give away Charley’s message! ’

I send you i John iii. 2, because it seemed sent to me in the night. The phase of it which shone out was this. It (and many others) is not only a beautiful picture conveying one great subject or idea to the heart’s eye — but when more closely looked at, the painting resolves itself into a mosaic, every word a precious and beautiful gem. The subject is the marvellous promise, or expression of confidence (which comes to the same thing), that we shall see Him and be like Him, through that seeing. But just take the words one by one, and see if each is not a jewel of many rays. ‘Beloved — now — are — we the sons of God — and — it doth NOT YET appear — what — we shall be — but WE KNOW that WHEN He shall appear w. shall BE like ‘Rim — for — we — shall — see — Him — as — He is.’ Why any one is enough for a great sermon! I have double-lined those on which I dwelt most, though it does not follow that they are most full. The word ‘be* (like Him) struck me immensely — it is so absolute — not seem, but actually ’ be ’ going glorifyingly down to the very ends and depths of our whole being — no surface likeness, but entirety of transformation.

(To E. C.)

PYRMONT VILLA, Easter, April 17, 1870.

I must send you a line, dear E. I think Maria and Ellen will have set out on their journey hither, but //’not, let them know.

My father still lies just the same, quite unconscious. Apoplectic fit early this morning, and he has never moved or spoken since; no consciousness of blisters, mustard, etc. Dr. Thursfield says, ‘humanly speaking, there is no hope whatever,’ and he ’ thinks he will not last many hours.’ Yesterday he was unusually well, all remarked it, and peculiarly bright and happy. He has no suffering at all, and was hardly an hour consciously ill or even poorly. And when he awakens, it will be to see Him as He is. Dear E., I did not think it possible this blow could have been sent so mercifully, all pain spared him, and that was the chief thing. And I never felt before how God can give peace where it seemed it must have been only utter grief, sudden and crushing. Pray for us.

PYRMONT VILLA, April 22, 1870.

‘Blessed ‘be the name of the Lord.’ I think He has put that in my heart, and my heart says it. I thought I should have yours to-day, and longed for it. It will be a relief to write to you, there is so much that I must write to others, and I need not to you, and therefore I want to.

It is a dream as yet — but rather solemn than terrible; and after it — ’ when I awake, I am still with Thee.’ I think He will let me prove that. It has been the very best for my father, and therefore I do not think any of us would have it otherwise. Saturday he was better than for months, was out twice, just in the sun before the house — chatting cheerily to neighbours and friends, and all day seemed quite peculiarly happy and bright. I went with Edith H. to tea at Miss Nott’s, but happily was so tired that I came home at 8.30, and so was at home at evening prayers. I cannot recall his prayer, though I would give anything to remember it — all seems blotted out except the fact of it.

I never said good -night to him, never remember missing it before — but I had to go away directly after prayers, I forget what for, and when I returned he was gone up. I did not follow him, because he was tired, and I thought it would only hinder and disturb him if I did. I did not know that I should never have another kiss. Very early on Easter Sunday morning (April 19), (after sleeping fairly), he said his head was uncomfortable — got up about six, but laid down again — and became unconscious. It was apoplexy, and he never moved or spoke again — laid as in deep sleep till Tuesday at noon, and then the breathing ceased — that was all — no struggle, no pain, only gone to rest. Was it not merciful so? Not any pang for him, not a good-bye, or the possibility of a troubled thought, not an hour’s conscious illness — then sleep — then glory. We could not have chosen better for him. And for us — everything that could soften and sustain has been given — all were in time too to see him. There was no human element, and so no evil, no bitterness; it was only GOD’S Hand. Not one regret — not one of us having to wish that either he or we had done, or not done this or that as second cause. If I had loved my father less, I should grieve more, but his comfort was truly first, and that is everything. But I would have given anything but the inevitable cost of suffering to him for even one last word or look.

I need not tell anybody what he was to me — I have said that once for all in the Ministry of Song — (Our Father), and I am so glad I did.

Dear mother is — I do not know how to tell it — I never saw such grief before — and yet not one murmur.

All is in the most marvellous order — not a bill unpaid, not even one letter unanswered! He could not have done more had it been known to him. Yet we have no reason to suppose that he had any presentiment — no shadow of death fell on him at all. And now — he is ‘with Him,’ and I think that includes all. And I can look at that and even be glad. I did not know

God could make it so easy to bow and trust, and say, ‘Thy will be done.’ He will rest in A stley churchyard, and in its loveliest spot.

y//;v’/27, 1870.

Your note to mother was just beautiful. Dear E., your own sorrow seems to have taught you what to say. I am so glad that it is fixed that I go out next week. I would much rather go right away than even come to Winterdyne just now! I do not think I shall get to feel comfortably well till I have more change than mere ’ change of air.’ I do not mean that I want to forget — not at all — but it will do me good to have to forget at intervals. And I have felt my father’s loss even more intensely the last two days. How anxious you must be

about, yet I am sure God will help you to be in

‘perfect peace.’ 1 think He does such unexpected things in that way: ’ perfect peace ’ where we expected distress, and agony where one expected peace. Yet His surprises are more often of the former kind.

(To Margaret W.y

1870.-

What grand things Janie is permitted to do! Of course I am charmed that she sees there are advantages in ’ keeping rank ‘! I never did believe in ’ unattached,’ and never can believe the Captain intends anything of the sort, and I would sooner be a Congregationalist (always barring the great Bible-education point!) than be one of those unsubordinated (I did not say ‘insubordinate ‘!) waifs and strays.

Such a telling ’ present salvation ’ sermon last night at St. Paul’s — John vi. 47, and one of J. H. R.’s very best A.M. on John xx. 29. I have been extremely struck (for myself) with the as and the so in John vi. 57, so I pass it on to you and dear Bessie. I do not know how to thank her for her kind message and prayers. Can you and she find time to ask that I may be able if He will to carry out a little poem on a subject which is a good deal too grand for me — and yet I had a strong impulse to begin it, but stuck in the middle, not because I could not scribble on somehow, but because I feel utterly unequal to put the idea into any sort of adequate words, and can’t bear spoiling it! We had better singing the last two Sundays than ever yet, which is encouraging. I am actually let into the choir now, to shout to my heart’s content at the hallelujahs, etc.

(To the same.y

January 31, 1871.

I can think of nothing with respect to the death of dear Lucy’s mother, but ‘Thou hast made her most blessed for ever.’ She was not always ’ glad ’ here, but now ’ exceeding glad with Thy countenance.’ Loving thanks for telling me. We are still in the deepest anxiety and distress — a terrible relapse last Thursday night, since which he keeps saying he knows he is dying. The case is not hopeless, and yet there is far more fear than hope, except for prayer. But the intense conviction of sin is an answer so far showing that good work is begun. There have been gleams of peace, but quickly passing again. He never prays for life, only for pardon, and will go on whispering by the hour, ‘•Please do — dear Jesus, please do wash me — whiter than snow, oh, forgive me — quite, dear Saviour, do, doT and so on. But the last two days he has wandered so much that it adds greatly to our trial, and he does not seem to understand what at first seemed to soothe him. Dear Margaret, will you kindly write a ’ request ‘’ for him for Friday, ’ this only son, and send this on to Janie?

(To the same.y

PERRY VILLA, 1871.

I meant to send an ordinary ‘request for praise’ for Friday, but I do feel that the answer God has given about the invalid is so extraordinary, that I think it might be a help to praying ones if you would tell them in your own words what God has done in this case. I would not convey in the usual short form what a remarkable answer it is. In the last three weeks recovery has taken place, and he is at this moment, if not very strong, yet in all respects as well as usual, and running and riding about. From what I hear I have every reason to believe that the life renewed will be life henceforth consecrated, and that this illness has been indeed the turning-point. For weeks there was literally no other hope but prayer, and a most remarkable spirit of prayer seems to have been given with respect to his case, so many, not only in our own wide circle of friends, but complete strangers, having taken it up and made special request for him. Just tell your members something about it on Friday; it is stimulating to hear how gracious God is, and it may encourage them. Ask them to pray that the good work begun may be carried on, and not even temporarily hindered by temptations and snares, which his position as well as his lively disposition will expose him to, but that he may be henceforth Christ’s brave and faithful and entirely devoted soldier and servant. And ask them to pray that the prayers of many years may be crowned at last by the conversion of unconverted dear ones, so that ii may be another gracious instance of a ‘converted family.’ Will you send this on to dear Janie? I want her to know.

I am busy at work upon the Songs of Grace and Glory having finished Havergal’s Psalmody. My last week’s work was re-writing sundry queer old hymns! It is so strange that on certain very precious subjects no hymn-writer seems to have touched. I have a most interesting servants’ Bible class here, and am looking for blessing. I hope mother will join me here next week. I shall think of you on Fridays, and join you in heart. I meant to have tried my best to help you at the meetings! but as yet it has only been by prayer.

I am so delighted at the bright opening — not the least surprised that none stayed Sunday P.M. I doubt not that Monday night, which seems to have been beyond expectations, is but the beginning. You have in a special way ’ come near to minister unto Him ’ this week, Ezek. xliv. 15, 16, and so Num. xvi. 5 belongs to you and the 7th verse. But it begins with the being ‘chosen,’ and from that flows the ‘come near’ and ’ shall be holy.’ Is not that for you, dearie?

(To E. C.)

Christmas Afternoon 1871.

I must send you a line of Christmas greeting — I am so glad you are at Winterdyne. Christmas has as much of pain as of joy in it, more perhaps, and yet one would not blot out the memories which cause the pain. I do so utterly agree with what you wrote to Maria about widows, and the sympathy they have as compared with the utter lack of sympathy with those to whom the joy of union has been altogether denied, for widowhood is after all but as the shadow following a great light. Has it ever struck you that in this particular thing we have a fellowship with our Lord, which they have not? You will think this out for yourself, if you have not already dwelt upon it.

I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your sacrifice in sparing Maria to come home, I do not know when anything has been a greater relief to me. The terrible dreaded evening for poor mother of the anniversary that so recalls my father, was tided over by Maria’s coming — mother’s burst of agony quite startled her. But dear Elizabeth, I had no idea you were so suffering, or I would not have asked for Maria; so I do hope, in my own distress and anxiety for poor mother, I have not sacrificed your comfort.

I suddenly collapsed three days ago — got quite exhausted, but mercifully I have been able to sleep it off. Let me give you my special tired text: ‘He will be very gracious unto thee at the voice of thy cry.’ We may not see what He will do, nor be able to hear what He will say, but what He will be, — what He t’s, swallows up both, and guarantees all, no matter what we feel, ‘He will be very gracious?

(To E. C.)

... I feel very much inclined to send you this text: ‘I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.’ Because that takes in all ‘the way.’ For if true now, it must have always been true, even when most imperfectly recognised. And we cannot get beyond ‘never? The Greek is elsewhere rendered ’ loose or slacken,’ therefore it seems very strong — * I will never loose my hold upon thee;’ the ‘forsake,’ I think, includes etymologically the idea of leaving behind in a place, therefore it may be linked with ( Where I am, there shall also my servant be ’ (John xii. 20), and ‘I go to prepare a place for you... that where I am, there ye may be also’ (John xiv. 3).

So dear E., whatever sorrows this or any coming year may bring, they cannot go beyond ‘I know their sorrows.’ But may He who knows your past sorrows, spare you from heavy future ones.

I do hope you will be cheered with much blessing this year, specially among your girls. We are at a disadvantage with ours as compared with yours, because we are hampered as to the coming Confirmation time, being mixed Church and Dissent, both as to ladies and girls. I hope I shall get some of them to attend Confirmation classes, whether they go on to Confirmation itself or not. I do think, and this is the experience of thousands, that it is the great opportunity with young persons. The very fact of feeling themselves unfit is the means of awakening so many; for the question naturally arises, ‘If unfit for Confirmation, then am I not unfit for heaven?’ Especially among what you call well-disposed girls, I think it is very often the turning-point, it is such a solemnly personal individual thing, that it stirs them up to decide. It used to be a time of great blessing, specially among my dear father’s candidates — one of his Sunday-school teachers, Emma Shrimpton, who died lately (whom Maria knew so well), was an instance of great blessing and a consistent life. I always regretted

exceedingly that was not confirmed; for though I

believe she was a Christian before, she would have found great blessing — she says things which show she underrates it, and it has occurred to me that Satan may make use of the fact of having no personal experience of the privilege, to hinder — from making the most of it with her class of girls. For of course, merely knowing of Confirmation theoretically as a rite, is very different from having shared in it and found its blessing.

We are obliged to give up two-thirds of our work among the girls, and only keep the rooms open two nights, as the girls do not come. It is very disappointing and humiliating. I should have kept on, whether or no, but I was quite outvoted by the other workers.

I am so looking forward to milder weather, so that I can sit every morning in my study instead of only once a week. I have been defeated altogether in a pet scheme — you know my study is no practical use to me except in the few weeks of warm spring or autumn (as we are never at Leamington in the summer). I cannot sit without a fire, it is so extra cold under the very thin slated roof. I offered to pay for coals and fee the servant, so as to have a fire nearly every day instead of once a week as dear mother arranged — but one of our servants is invalided, so I must not propose it. I am so disappointed — one cannot have any little reading or prayer in the downstair rooms, as our callers are incessant. And it is so difficult to do anything requiring consecutive thought, with interruptions every ten minutes. If I am drawing on my brain at all, I lose the thread and forget where I was, and have to cogitate — so I produce more in my one study fire day than all the other five.

But it is foolish and selfish to grumble thus to you. I cannot think how I was betrayed into it: one would much rather dwell on mercies, which ought so infinitely to satisfy.

I thought I should not find this second return home so trying as the first after my dear father’s death, but I have felt it fully as much.

LEAMINGTON, March 1872.^

... I began going to the laundry girls last week, and was much interested. I repeated the ‘Old, Old Story ’ to a room-full of them, and though they were told not to let it interrupt work, they one by one stopped, and listened in dead silence, and two or three were in tears.

I have begun giving a little series of a sort of mild ‘lectures’ on psalmody to Miss Rose’s school, with illustrations ) which consist of practising a hymn and tune till it goes satisfactorily. For next time they are to bring me instances of the characteristics of good psalmody I mentioned and explained. Next time I shall point out some characteristics of bad style. They are to practise the tunes in between — for what numbers of girls can 18o LETTERS, 1870-1875.

play a brilliant piece and yet cannot play a hymn tune. Miss R. has introduced Songs of Grace and Glory, and handed over her girls to my influence, which I hope to use rightly for the principles and practice of ’ psalmody,’ and while it seems to interest them extremely, gives a first-rate opening for general #;z//-High Church influence. But I must hasten. I do so hope you will find many an evident proof at Malvern, that the angel has gone before you to choose you out a place to pitch your tent in. Not but what the fart will be the same, in any case, but I should like you to find pleasant proofs of it.

WINTERDYNE, May 6. 1872.

I have just written a lively little missionary song and ,tune, ‘Tell it out,’ which is being taken up wonderfully quickly. I will send it to you by book post, and you can make any use you like of it. I enclose you my Plea for the Little Ones, of which I think not less than half a million must have been in type in the last three weeks, such numbers of newspapers and magazines having inserted it. I feel very strongly (on the exclusion of the Bible from Board schools), and it is a perfectly inexplicable thing to me how men who profess to believe and value the Bible, can join hands with ‘infidels’ and ’ heretics ’ in desiring its exclusion from Government schools; it is to me ‘a wonderful and horrible thing’ indeed. The last verses in my Plea are: —

Shall those who name the Name of Christ

His own great gift withhold?
Our Lamp, our Chart, our Sword, our Song,

Our Pearl, our most fine Gold!

Why would ye have ’ no Bible taught ‘?

Is it faifear? or shame?
Out, out upon such coward hearts,

False to their Master’s name!

With battle-cry of valiant faith,

Let Britain’s sons arise, — ‘Our children shall be taught the Word

That only maketh wise! ’

So, dauntlessly, will we unfurl

Our banner bright and broad:
The cause of His dear Word of Life

Our cause, — the cause of God.

I am so glad you like Bruey. My dear little nieces, Alice and Bertha, to whom it is dedicated, are both stirred up by it to wish to work; and both, at their earnest entreaty, begin Sunday-school teaching in Wyre Hill to-morrow.

I have had many inquiries as to whether Bruey is a true story or not, so I will make an explicit statement. ‘Bruey,’ so called from the name ‘Bruce,’ was, as the children say, ’ a real little girl.’ The outline of her simple story is true; and the sketch of her character is founded on my personal recollections, and inferences drawn from them. Her Sunday - school work (in my father’s school), the Irish meeting, and the collecting cards and the forty-one names, her illness and early and peaceful death, are all fact. If I had been writing an entirely made-up story, some things would have been very different. Probably I should have made Bruey collect for some vague and general missionary cause, in which any one might imagine they could recognise their own pet society. But my little readers (so far as I know) seem to agree with me that it is most interesting to know just what Bruey really did collect for, although there are few branches of the Irish Society in England, and none at all in America. And some of the grown-up readers of Bruey may think it pleasant to get a little passing view of a very quiet and far-off corner of the great harvest field in Ireland, where a silent sowing of the Word is going on by this society, which shall surely result in sheaves and singing.

Besides, the principles and motives and modes of any work for Christ, such as dear little Bruey undertook, apply just as much to any other branch of the same work. Bruey’s card, and the list I have kept of her forty-one names, is one of my treasures. I should like any dear little unknown future readers in England to know that I have heard already of many children who have been stirred up by Bruey’s example to wish to be ’ workers for Christ ’ too; and who have either found out different ways for themselves, or asked their parents to tell them of something to do, like Bruey, * for Him! ’

I am so far away that I shall probably never hear such pleasant news from America; but I send my little book across the ocean with a very earnest prayer that my Heavenly Master may grant that by it many an American girl and boy may be led to become a ’ little worker for Christ.’

{Mem. — By F. R. H.’s request, Bruey is translated into French by Mile. Tabarie’, under the name of Lilla (published by J. Bonhoure, 48 Rue de Lille, Paris). F. R. H. was pleased with its lively and idiomatic rendering, making it a pleasant book for the schoolroom. — M. V. G. H.]

It was kind and thoughtful of you to send Miss A.’s unexpectedly cheering letter. Ah, dear J., * even F. R. H.’ needs perhaps more of cheer and comfort than many who may perhaps have known less of joy, but also less of sorrow; and I believe this is why my tender and loving Father has of late so kindly given me so much success both in pen work and in the more directly spiritual work. So I take Miss A.’s letter as another token of this; and the same post brings me quite an enthusiastic note from a London firm about words for a set of six very beautiful MS. songs by Franz Abt, which they requested me to fit with English words in imitation of the original — they say, ‘You have done it splendidly /” Rose of roses,’ etc. So this 1872 has been one series of little successes and great mercies.... Have you ever thought out ‘The Lord will do great things ’ yet?

I cannot say I ’ miss ’ dear M. and E., because my one object in life at present seems to be, to keep out of everybody’s way! I refuse myself to every one before early dinner, and decline every evening invitation; so people catch me if they can in the afternoon.

December 14, 1872.

This is one of the most depressed birthdays I ever had. ‘Sent empty away ’ seems inscribed on this week, both for the misssion time and myself. I am certain Satan has been specially at work to spoil and hinder everything. I have not the least consciousness of any blessing or comfort whatever; but instead of it, a terrible reaction into an utter misery of numbness of soul. The whole service last night was actual weariness to me. More faith and prayer and effort and expectation there could not have been, yet the whole result seems to be, ‘He that is filthy let him be filthy still, and he that is holy let him be holy still.’ Only one case of anything like conversion (with thirty services and meetings in the eight days), and that was a girl whom I felt quite sure God was leading to Himself before. It has been a most strange and painful lesson of God’s sovereignty; some parishes are so blessed. I heard of one where the throngs of enquirers were so great that the church had to be kept open all day for dealing with them; in others, with equal prayer and means, just nothing at all. The addresses here were so pointed and clear and direct and fervent, — just what one would think must convince and lead to Christ. Decided Christians and visitors enjoyed it immensely — to me it was all utter blank disappointment. For twelve years it has been my special wish to be in an affair of this kind, or anything like the Mildmay Conference, which I seem fated not to get to — it is so depressing, and yet it must have its ’ nevertheless afterwards.’

(To E. C.)

February 22, 1873.

There is a little extra pressure to-day, and I can only write you a note, though I meant to write a letter. I send you these words, ‘He is thy Lord.’ You will see my comment on it in Woman s Work for March (see also Under the Surface, p. 69); but I shrunk from saying all, though if I had, it would have touched more hearts! The thought I omitted was; the restfulness of recognising the Lord Jesus as the heavenly Bridegroom, — the Husband, — meeting all the special woman’s need of one to bow to and love and obey, — submitting, acquiescing, and obeying with great gladness, because with great love. You will fill this thought out for yourself, I know, darling, as I have for myself; and may He ‘satisfy ’ all the need which only He knows. I do delight in the whole of Ps. xlv.

Well, dear E., may ‘He is thy Lord, in its fullest sweetness and solace, be your keynote for the new life.

Thank you so much for the sash; it is exactly the thing I wanted, and Amy has done it up charmingly for me.

(To )

May 22, 1873.

Your letter interested me very much, for I do so warmly sympathize with you in your longing for more knowledge and more teaching. May I say freely what I think? It may be that God means to show you the power of His Spirit, working by His Word alone (i Thess. ii. 13), and to lead you to seek and search the Scriptures more earnestly for yourself. Sometimes we lean too much upon outward teaching, when we have it; though on the other hand, when He does let us have it, it is most valuable and should be made the most of. But I think you may be quite sure of two things: — isf. That He leadeth you by the right way (Ps. cvii. 7); and therefore, if you really cannot go to a Bible class, it must be best so, and He means to teach you without it. 2nd. If God sends you to those who need teaching, He can put the right message into your mouth, just as easily as if you were a D.D. And I do feel sure we may look up to Him to give us the very words to say. Very often it is just when we feel most helpless that He uses us most.

As to the oil, I do not think it refers to Gal. vi. 17. Oil is a special type of the Holy Spirit, with reference to His work in consecrating and sanctifying us. The blood came first (Lev. xiv. 14), and then the oil was put upon the same members. So we need first atonement by the precious blood of Christ, every member being defiled and needing it; but then follows (’ go and sin no more ‘) the oil of consecration, setting apart those very members to the service of God and of sanctification throughout, down to the very lowest member and power.

I should like to write much more, but am very busy just now. — Yours in Him, ’ whom having not seen, ye love.’

1873-

I do so wish there were more soul-winners, especially at boys’ schools. Somehow many never seem to do more than pray in a general sort of way for the children, and read good little books to them. But they do not seem to aim at conversion or anything more definite than ‘good influence,’ and never speak right out about salvation. They seem afraid to aim at it, or see lions in the way.... And yet they are quite clear about salvation for themselves, and happy and trustful, and yet have never led a soul to Christ. I gave Pillows and Bells to a matron who had never seen them, and she quite caught at them. ‘Just what she wanted, often wished she could say something when she put the boys to bed, now she could read them this, and quite sure they would be delighted.’ She is a Christian, I have no doubt; but, oh, dear! why cannot Christians tell these poor dear boys a word about Jesus! and yet talk so bewitchingly to them about anything else!

I received a singularly interesting letter from a lady who picked up my leaflet, Have you not a Word for JesuS) in the street in Edinburgh some weeks ago. She has ‘always been a dumb Christian, but dare not any longer be so.’ She writes to ask my prayers that she may henceforth be able to speak for Jesus.

‘Grant unto Thy servants that with all boldness they may speak Thy words.’ How grandly they did it in vers. 29 and 32 of the next chapter, and there is the same Holy Ghost for us.

May 30, 1873.

MY DEAR FELLOW- WORKER (for such I am sure you are), — Your most interesting letter has been travelling about, and only reached me a day or two ago. Do not say, ‘If indeed a child of God at all.’ Let me give you a thought which has often cheered me when tempted to say the same. Can you not set to your seal that the last clause of Jer. xxxi. 3 is true: ‘Therefore with loving-kindnesses have I drawn thee ‘? It is so, because you would not feel drawn to the Saviour, unless the Lord Himself had done it — your natural heart would not draw you, and Satan would not, so it must be His own ’ loving-kindnesses,” for no man can come to me, except the Father which hath sent me draw him,’ — well then, if He has drawn you, WHY?

Look at the glorious antecedent of the ’ therefore: ’ ‘Yea, I have loved thee with an everlasting love.’ There is no escape from this conclusion, dear friend; verily, Jehovah hath loved YOU ‘with an everlasting love? and you have that absolute proof of it, ‘Therefore with loving-kindnesses He hath drawn you.’

I feel very much for you in your sad story of trials, but may I send you Prov. iv. n, ‘I have led you in right paths? ‘Does not that cover all the life-sorrows, and solve all the life-mysteries? Do not look at your trials as only sent for your own sake; see Phil. i. 29.

Who knows for what blessed service our Master is meetening and polishing you in your sad and lonely hours!

I am an orphan now, and have found the truth of Ps. xxvii. 14, l When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up; ’ so I send it on to you, praying that it may be yours in your heart-orphanhood. I am very thankful to hear of your finding my leaflet, and shall be very glad if He will make it still further helpful to you in witnessing for Him. I cannot help an impression that there will be many stars in your crown. May He give you much grace and courage and wisdom and love, and if it be His will, success in winning souls.

OAKHAMPTON, July 1873,

I have found plenty to do here, and cannot overtake the numbers of poor people who would like me to visit them, though I give either a morning or evening of each day to it. I have the first class of girls on Sunday A.M., and my old Sunday reading P.M., for which the servants seem grateful. Thanks to Sarah D.’s information and help, I have quite a nice Bible-class on Friday P.M. of farmers’ daughters, and such-like girls. On Mondays, I have a cottage reading, I should much like to begin another as well, but it seems more prudent not to begin too much, especially as there is much visiting to be done. — — is very kind and affectionate, but I see no encouragement to hope anything more — I have been crying over her to-day.

So glad you were at the Conference — strange how that always slips through my fingers. I quite hoped we should have been back for it this June. Well, He knows best, and perhaps it might not have been as much real help to me as I was reckoning on. I am greatly enjoying the freedom of not having pressing work which must be done. I had no variety or society or anything to make a break, and I would not like ever to have such another ten

months. But for the real belief that is and will be

an influence for God, I never could have stuck to that utterly tiring and tiresome proof-correcting and corresponding with printers, etc.

I dare not yet allow myself a free fling at any fresh head and eyes work, though there are many things I am longing to do; but I feel I need a rest from it, if ever I am to do any more telling pen-work. So the visiting and classes seem to be my work at present, and though I should probably be wiser if I gave myself a real rest and holiday, I cannot refuse to enter such an open door.

October 1873.

During the Mission Week at Liverpool, my hymnmeeting began at 7.30 — opened with prayer by the Rector, who then left it to me. The hall was fairly full, and it is a capital place for sound. It took a while to get the steam up, but before long we had some very fair singing. I had made out a little programme of hymns, progressing to a climax of praise and brightness, and all seemed to enjoy it, the token thereof being that when I closed at 9.15 every one was astonished at the time being gone. There were a good many strangers and critics present, which rather awed me. It was not merely mechanical practice, and I do not think it failed in its higher objects. A lady wrote so gratefully to me next day, telling me of the new and full comfort which had come to her through a few remarks I made before singing Hymn 14, Songs of Grace and Glory: —

O my Lord, how great the wonders
Thy rich grace has wrought for me!

On Thy love my spirit ponders,
Praising, magnifying Thee.

We sang it to my father’s tune ‘Zaanaim.’

Friday evening was much nicer than Thursday. The singing went splendidly, and I felt as much at home as ever I did with my Sunday-school class, and somehow did not feel the least difficulty in reatly saying out all that was in my heart about the hymns themselves, and the great subjects of the Mission Week. Mr. Stubbs begged me so, not to refrain from freely speaking. I wondered at getting on so delightfully, but it was all explained by the Scripture reader, who came up to me after, and said, ‘Some of us met together to pray for you and your work this evening, and we have had the answer, for I am sure the Lord helped you most sweetly.’ A lady ‘Professor of Music ’ was present, and came to me afterwards most cordially, to say how delighted she was with the hymns and tunes, Songs of Grace and Glory. She said she intended immediately to adopt them in her classes and among her pupils.

I went to Mrs. Menzies’ Y. W. C. A. house — all is so beautifully arranged and managed, and it is such a harbour of safety for numbers. Being Saturday, a good many girls were in the house, and so could come into my Bible-reading. A great many are ‘working bees;7 but I found the idea was to bring all the young sisters or nieces or cousins that could be caught for the occasion, so I had quite a number of just the sort of girls I always want so to get at. At first I wondered how I was to find a word for all, as it was such a very mixed set; but I took a passage which really did seem to contain something for all, and took it almost word by word; and it was just what one wanted for the occasion, being a lovely typical passage, bringing out most clearly the three points of ( Coming, Consecation, and Union with Jesus.’ Some told me afterwards that they had felt it to be a very precious message to themselves, and had never thought of the passage in that connection before. So again I felt very distinctly that ’ the Lord helped me.’

Mr. S. wanted me very much to stay in the Mission Hall and address the whole gathering; but of course I refused: I would not think of such a thing — that is not my vocation at all!

The enormous workhouse is not far from here. .One fancies little gentle Agnes Jones going into it all alone, arfd clearing out the Augean stable that it was; and it seems marvellous how any woman could do what she did in that place.

(To Margaret W.)

WINTERDYNE, December 22, 1873.

I am to-day trying to write a New Year’s article for the Christian; it might suit your thought. It is From

Glory to Glory; it ought to be the brightest thing I ever wrote, for I have had the brightest spiritual blessings I ever yet had. But positively Satan himself seems trying to prevent my writing it.

December 23, 1873.

I send you Prom Glory to Glory. It is possible it may prove to be what you feel is wanted. If, however, it does not strike you as the thing, will Certainly I will be with thee do? But, dear Margaret, you and I being the Lord’s own, and not our own, will fully understand each other. Neither must be used, unless you seem guided distinctly so to do. You know I only desire His glory, and not F. R. H.’s credit; and I greatly shrink from anything of mine being used only as a sort of compliment to me! You know I mean this.

(To E. C.)

December 1873.

I find dear mother has already put up my New Year’s leaflet From Glory unto Glory for you; so I only add a scrap of loving wish that even though all seems so trying and dark for you, 1874 may nevertheless prove to be in every way ’ from glory to glory.’

I am so grieved about your hearing — I know no trial I should so shrink from as deafness — and yet I have said deliberately, verse 10, ‘Whatever lies before us, there can be nought to fear.’ I fully enter into and sympathize with all your feelings and difficulties. Perhaps altogether the Lord Jesus is about to show you hwt fully He can satisfy with Himself alone.

(To Margaret W.)

OAKHAMPTON, January 25, 1874.

More likely than not, I shall not be back for the Y. W. C. A. next meeting. I wanted so much to get you to take some extremely decided steps about the unpunctuality. I named it to two or three members, and the instant reply was that it was your fault! because you never began at eleven sharp, and there is no denying that no meetings ever are punctual unless the leader has the resolution to begin as the clock strikes without ever waiting for anybody. I should begin if only two were present, and the rest would soon learn better! Do bring about thorough reform in this. I will write a circular in my own name, if you like! And I would never admit any one during the hymn, as it is a part of our service as much as prayer, and yet it is regularly disturbed and treated as a sort of ’ opening voluntary,’ which alway annoys me intensely.

I had no idea of staying so long here, but my path is most clear, and there is special need of me here, more than at home, as Maria is with dear mother. I have had a specially precious soul given me at W. I always reap anywhere but in Leamington.

(ToJ.E.J.)

LEAMINGTON, February 27, 1874.

I thought often of you and your request during the c Week,’ and have no doubt there was great blessing. I wanted you to get a special personal blessing and lifting

N up, dear J. Did you? Only sometimes the richest blessings flow in deep under the surface, and the taking root downward is not less blessed than bearing fruit upward.

I have just been enjoying thinking out Luke v. 4-11 in a less usual way — * Launch out into the deep sea of the promises? Has that ever struck you? If not, will you look at the passage and see how beautifully it bears carrying out, till it comes to ’ forsook all and followed

(TOJ.E.J.)

LEAMINGTON, March 18, 1874.

You will wonder — but I am so thankful for your letter! Because the state of mind you describe is so exactly what I have seen (and to a certain extent experienced) just before entering into the full blessing, the full rest. He brings us just to the end of our own resources, and even to the end of all hitherto tried resources, and empties us altogether (it is just a parallel to the usual state of things before conversion). And then He shows us, perhaps in one flash, perhaps gradually, that He can really do all for us, really cleanse as well as pardon, really be our sanctification as well as our righteousness, really keep us moment by moment instead of only a general kind of keeping from great or final falling. You do not limit Christ’s able; ‘He is able to keep, able to do exceeding abundantly, able to make all grace abound to you, etc.; but then the great question comes — ‘When?’ Now answer Him with — 4 Now, Lord! ‘And according to your faith it will be unto you. Do just apply the very things you would say to one who was seeking salvation, and use the very same means — * Only believe,’ and — ‘Now.’ It is a wonderful parallel. 1 am not writing thus because I have opinions or have read books, but because I felt and found it all before I ever read a line on the subject.

I am praying for you. I long for you to have * the full blessing.’ You must have it.

(To.)

Yours just come. Yes, I like ‘Aunt Frances.’ You know it is Connie’s name for me. I am so glad the Lord helps you to trust Him, and He will. I am very

glad you are looking out for definite work in, as I

think — first, it is a real means of grace, and the soul does not prosper without it unless He distinctly withholds opportunity; and, secondly, if you give up some and all for - — ’s sake, you are not called upon to relinquish also the privilege and duty of work for Jesus. He is our Master, and He only — His service must be sought.

I really do think my chick took in the message of ’ everlasting love ’ the very first evening! the soil was more prepared than I had supposed, and she had very earnest desire for a blessing on this visit; and somehow she simply believed the message straight off, without any to-do! at least she appeared to do so, and says it makes her so very happy!

Dear child, she is so changed. Her mother had given her Mr. Everard’s nice little book, Nailed to the Door-post; so the next day she went to her (of course in the twilight!) and whispered, ‘Mamma, I am nailed to the door-post! ’

Same evening told her at last of his decision for

the ministry. So all has been extremely happy about that; told me he had such a nice talk with his father about it, and then prayer. So the dear mother is singing Ps. ciii.!

So glad you like my verses, c Far more exceeding,’ but I never felt more miserably the total inadequacy of my attempt to touch on so grand a theme.

(To the late Mrs. Edward Pease.y

WINTERDYNE, March 31, 1874.

DEAR MRS. PEASE, — Will you accept my warm thanks for your lovely gift. The Tyrolean shawl is so beautiful in itself, and will be particularly useful during the semiinvalid weeks which are now before me, that thus alone it is a pleasure to have it. But it makes it a greater pleasure that it is an expression of Christian friendliness and sympathy. We cannot be really strangers when we own the same dear Master, and love the same precious Saviour. It was so kind and thoughtful of you to lend a book to read; it came just at the right time, when I was all the better for a little easy reading, but not at all able for anything needing consecutive thought. You have learnt to anticipate the little needs of invalids such as this, and I have benefited by it.

Having so often heard of you from my sister Maria, I feel as if I knew you already, but I hope very much I may have the pleasure of your personal acquaintance before very long.

May I take this opportunity of expressing what I have most strongly felt — gratitude to you for the great and real help you have been to my sister Maria by supplying her with, and supporting a nurse for, her sick poor. I do not think anything could have been devised which would more effectually help and relieve her; and we also who so love her, are most thankful for the relief which it is to her in times of much illness among the poor; for we have often been very anxious lest she should break down. Again thanking you for the exquisite shawl, allow me to remain, dear Mrs. Pease, yours cordially.

(To C. 77.)

April I, 1874.

... Are you thus cut off from pleasant intercourse and kindness for nothing? Surely not; depend upon it, it means blessing, and will be a blessing if you seek that it may. Oh, Ceci, Jesus has been so much to me this winter, more than ever before. I send you a tiny book, All for Jesus,1 which has been an unspeakable blessing to me, and now I want you to be ’ all for Jesus.’ It is very marvellous how God lately seems to have been stirring up thousands and thousands of Christians to consecrate themselves utterly to Him, and to seek and find more in Him than ever before. I have shared this blessing, and now I want you to have it too! 1 All for Jesus, Partridge & Co.

(71? C. H.)

April 22, 1874.

I am just full of joy and praise over your letter. Oh, how I thanked God for it! You will wonder! but all you tell me shows that He has really, truly, deeply taken you in hand, that He Himself has drawn near, and though as yet your eyes are holden, He is leading you right into fulness of blessing. I am sure of it; what you describe is exactly what I expected if the work in you were indeed His, and exactly what He leads others through into the full blessing of entire consecration and resulting joy. Only let Him work; only let Him do what He will with you, in you, for you. He may bring you into yet deeper waters; He may show you more still of the sin and weakness; He will bring you to the point of utter self-despair, and then — I know what then! Oh, the joy of utterly yielding up to Him! But, my darling, this is a great soul-crisis — perhaps you will never pass through such another; it is a ‘Now ’ of infinite grace, and Satan will do his very utmost to keep you just out of the blessing which he knows would be the entrance upon a glorious life of power as well as of joy. Oh, do not yield to him, but yield yourself entirely to Jesus....

... But remember nothing can be really gained in this matter without the true-hearted, whole-hearted surrender of all and for always to Jesus. This you must do; and yet for this He and He only can make you ’ willing, and give you power to do it. But just look straight at His promises just as they stand, and all the paradox will be solved. He ’ waits to be gracious ’ to you. Look at 2 Cor. vi. 17, 18, ‘I will receive,’ etc.

With the very effort to obey, He gives the power. He gives freely strength and grace for whatever He commands. His commands are all implied promises.

(To C. H.)

May 1874.

My heart has written to you every day, though my pen has not, because I have been rather extra pressed and busy. I was so thankful to get your last letter. Oh, it is a simply glorious life that by His grace you have entered, of real whole-hearted consecration to Jesus. Now, darling, ’ stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ has made you free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage’ (Gal. v. i). And ‘by faith ye stand ’ (2 Cor. i. 24), and He will give it, and increase it. And you ’ are kept by the power of God through faith ’ (i Pet. i. 5). But nothing short of the highest level will do, that is the true place of joy.... I am most thankful that He has impelled you to speak to - — ; it is to me a test of your ’ gold: ’ you cannot keep it to yourself if you really have the blessing. Yes, ’ tell it out,’ and remember that you are responsible for what He has given you of joy and grace (i Pet. iv. 10).... Commit your whole self to Him to be ’ sanctified wholly ’ (i Thess. v. 23, 24). Look out all His promises about it, and claim them and believe them. Just see for yourself what His promises and commands are. He gives no impossible commands, for His promises and His enabling power always exceed them. Only we must believe the promises, and draw upon the power.

Ask Him to teach you all about it, and to show you practically how much He is able and willing to do for those who will but trust His bare word at any cost of preconceived opinions. ‘Wrong thoughts ’ are most assuredly conscious sin, to be instantly confessed and hated and repelled, not to be excused or indulged for an instant. If you have the least wince of conscience, at any cost instantly see to it, and let there be instant confession, which surely results in instant cleansing. Recollect the glorious word ’ cleanseth,’ i.e. ’ goes on cleansing,’ and claim it and trust to it, and be willing to be kept under the cleansing power of the blood, leaving no place, and giving no quarter to even the shadow of a sinful thought. ‘Who is sufficient for these things?’ God is; and your sufficiency is of Him and of Him only. See Jude 24; and let us press on in faith and hope to a really holy life. Of course, the happiness will be in proportion. Temptation is not sin; oh, no! Jesus was tempted! But parleying with temptation is sin. Satan may cast a fiery dart, and it may pain terribly;... but if our whole soul loathes and recoils from it as He did, the sin is Satan’s, not ours. You will soon experience the difference between sinful temptation of one’s own evil heart, and temptation from the Evil One in which you may claim Christ’s deepest sympathy.

‘Presumptuous ’ to speak for Jesus! My dear Ceci, is it presumptuous of a soldier to tell what a good general he has? is it presumptuous of a liberated slave to tell of his deliverer to his former fellow-captives? would it be presumptuous of me to speak lovingly and gratefully to anybody who had died instead of me? That idea was a temptation, if you like!, and if you parley with that, you will be dishonouring and sinning against Him. How dare we ’ hold our peace ‘! It is ’ presumptuous ’ if through fear of man or conventionality or self-consciousness and nervousness we are cowards enough to accept all His benefits and all His love, and just hold our tongues about it, and not give Him the open praise of lip and life that should glorify Him, and yet expect Him to be pleased with us, and continue His smile upon us! That is horrible presumption!

As for, perhaps she will be your first soul for Jesus.

Ask it! I may tell you that it is a remarkable fact that the uniform experience of those who find blessing is that God peculiarly honours the confession of what He has done for them. Look at Philem. 6. So I am peculiarly glad that you frankly told her of your own blessing.

‘Grow?’ Yes, of course, and expect that faith and love will grow day by day, and may they ‘grow exceedingly/

(To C. H.)

LEAMINGTON, June 4, 1874.

Your letters make me so happy! I do praise our dear Master for you and with you. I quite expected you would be made a blessing at once — it seems to be always so.

As to your choir, I think it is beginning at the wrong end to press the Lord’s Table first. It is the principle of love and obedience which they want, then they will unhesitatingly ‘obey’ the command; it will be quite certain to follow. Speak out fully and freely to them about Jesus Himself, and I believe that if He gives you grace and courage to confess to them what a blessing you have personally received, there will be fruit immediately....

Be willing to take up any odds and ends of work (pen, voice, hands, feet, tongue), which the Master puts before you. And be quite sure that He will guide thee continually, so that seeming hindrances are quite sure to be furtherances. He constantly holds me back from some intended bit of work, and then gives me another instead, in a most remarkable way....

(To

May 23, 1874.

You were right about the ‘undertone of pain,’ and about the victory. But I cannot help telling you that the wonderful and glorious blessing which so many Christians are testifying to having found, was suddenly, marvellously sent to me last winter; and life is now what I never imagined life on earth could be, though I knew much of peace and joy in believing before. He has done for me exceeding abundantly above all I asked or thought, — I never could say that before, I say it in adoring wonder now. It seems as if a call were going forth to His own children to make a more complete surrender of their whole selves and lives, and to enter into a fulness of consecration, which I for one had not realized before. Now I want you to have this too! The Master Himself will show you how to find it, and perhaps astonish you as He did me with it. From Glory to Glory is the only piece in Under the Surface written after I found what life in Jesus could be, and that is the only piece which altogether expresses my hourly gladness, — at least as far as expression can go, which is not very far after all! This is overflowing * compensation ’ on this shore for ALL. I can set to my seal that this is true, and write ‘Satisfied! ’ upon all the yearnings you so truly touch.

(To

1874.

I was more glad than surprised at your letter, for I had a strong impression that this would come about. I am so very thankful that your first time after leaving school is to be with such a family. The first year or two (after school) is perhaps the most important time of your whole life; and I have long hoped and prayed that if you were not with your own dear mother, you might be where a decidedly spiritual atmosphere might be around you, and where you might learn to take such a decided stand on Christ’s side, that it should never again be a doubt or even a difficulty to you to ’ stand up for Jesus,’ wherever you might subsequently be. And this

you will have with. But remember ‘Paul may plant

and Apollos water, but only God can give the increase; ’ so do make it a special prayer, that you may really profit by the privileges you will have; that you may lose none of the blessings which will be around you, but that you may be ‘strengthened and stablished and settled’ in your spiritual life; that you may be no weak Christian, but become ’ strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.’ I am so glad that I shall have you with me all the autumn, and I hope that I shall be a little bit of help to you in many ways.

No teacher ever has only and altogether smooth sailing, and it would be no real advantage to have no difficulties, or we should never learn to overcome them, and should gain no strength of character. Your pupil is accustomed to obedience, and she has a dear little heart, and is singularly affectionate and easily touched, and that sort of material to work upon is a great thing.

Children are managed best if you show from the outset that whatever you say has to be done; so be rather careful in what you do say. Never say a thing is to be done, which you are not quite sure ought and must be done, so as not to have to retract or give in; but once said carry it out! As a rule, I always unhesitatingly advise governesses to ask to have their supper upstairs, so as to secure time to go on with steady plans for self-improvement, reading, and practising, etc.

You will, I am sure, be kind and pleasant and gentle to the maids — if they think any one is stuck up and gives unnecessary trouble, they do not like it; but speak pleasantly, and thank civilly, and consult their convenience instead of positively ordering things, and then you will be waited on night or day like a princess!

I do hope you will be a good psalmodist, so practise thoroughly a few tunes from Havergal’s Psalmody; try ‘Chesalon,’ ‘Goldbach,’ ‘Franconia,’ ‘Hermas,’ ‘Claudia,” Nassau,” Sternberg,” Hobah,” Persis,” Zaanaim,” Idumea,” Sihor,’ * Patmos,’ also my father’s special tune ‘Evan,’ both arrangements, i. and 2., and ‘Culbach,’ ‘lona,’ ‘Eden,’ ‘Tryphosa,’ etc.

You may imagine I cannot write many such long letters as this, for I have received nearly 600 letters the last six months, and of course letters must be answered.

Dear, do pray most earnestly in this interval that

God’s very special blessing may be upon this step. Nothing can prosper without that. Do not furl your colours!

I am afraid I am really more anxious about your body than your soul! but I do so want you not to be foolish, and get overdone for nothing. So that you fulfil faithfully your duties to your pupil, you have no right (as regards your positive duty to your mother and to yourself) to get fatigued and overdone, and perhaps lay the foundation of delicate health, just for want of moral courage to say ‘I am tired,’ or to face the very awful trial of any one wondering why you did retire early, or not go to the evening service; I should feel less strongly about it, if I had not split on the same rock. You must not sacrifice health and strength for nothing. May He give you tact and wisdom in this and all else. Never allow children to be inconsiderate, or needlessly imposing on you.

You must not be depressed, you must rouse out of it and go cheerily to your work again. What would you do, if you had the real causes of depression which so many young governesses have? But you are trying, and I am so glad — only you must make a real point of conscience about it, and pray vigorously and constantly for help in this thing.

I think is a little better, and she seemed so very

bright and happy that I thought she set somebody of my acquaintance a bright example of trust and patience and cheerfulness!

‘Now then do it! ‘See what 2 Sam. iii. 17-18 says.

I am very anxious to hear how you are, but if only you are as well as I think, it will do you good in many ways to be alone awhile. Often we are least alone when most alone. Only we must not take it for granted that as a matter of course the Lord Jesus will draw near. He will be sought, and pressed to enter in and abide with us; but if we do thus entreat Him to be with us, He surely will be. Every new position is like being put for a while into a different class in His school; there will be new lessons to learn and new progress to make. So, darling, I wonder what He has to teach you now during the next few weeks — certainly something, so ‘watch to see what He will say unto you.’ Do not overtire yourself, because remember this is your holiday, and you must not come back fagged out. I am more afraid of your doing too much than too little. Look at Isa. lviii. n, and find out in your concordance all His promises under ’ guide’ and ‘lead,’ and see what fulness of assurance He gives you.

(To.)

June 15, 1874.

... I do not know that I can do more than send you what cost me the greatest struggle I ever had to allow anything to be printed. The way in which my Master came and astonished me by giving me, even me,

1 Smk a Blessing. Partridge & Co. a blessing, which I had hardly heard of, much less understood, was more than I could have imagined.

Now I simply and strongly believe that His hand is open and ready to give the same blessing to all who will have it; therefore to you, dear friend. And the desires which you describe look to me like a sure earnest that you will have it. Oh do not compare yourself with others — thousands are shutting themselves out from this blessing, because they will not believe it — and thus hindering others too, who argue that ’ because So-and-so has not experienced it, and yet is far in advance of me, therefore I ought not to expect it.’ Dear Miss S., go independently to the Lord Jesus and just see what He will do for you! Oh! believe that able ’ means ( able ’ and no less, and that ’ all ’ means ’ all ’ and no less; and taking these two words as your starting-point, go and simply search and see what the Lord can do for you, and what He promises to do. You will receive, He has not given you the desire for nothing, He will fulfil it. And he can do it without any human teaching — you see I had none whatever except that one single sentence of reply from Mr. W. The Lord did all the rest. Only I must own to you, ‘to the praise of His glory,’ that the blessing described in the little book not only lasts but increases. It is even having a great effect upon my health, for all touch of worry, care, anxiety, and fidget about anything earthly or heavenly is all gone. Jesus takes it all, and the rest of faith is more perfect and uninterrupted than I imagined it possible for any one of my own nervous, highly-strung temperament to enjoy. All His doing! I was powerless, — and never saw my own weakness and my own sinfulness as I see them, now that I am finding power and sanctification in Jesus. Do not imagine there need be delay — at once, on getting this, let me beg you to break through everything — go straight and yield up your whole self, unbelief and «//, to Jesus, and receive the blessing. I think I shall soon hear you have it. — Yours in loving hope.

(To M. V. G. ff.)

1874.

I must send a copy of a note just received. See, Marie, dear! I know my witness does not go for much, but when one after another of old-established Christians come forward and say they have received a blessing which they have never had before, and which they had not even imagined, can its reality be doubted? It is mostly those who are looking for it who get it; but in some cases, as with myself, He seems to come and astonish His children by an utterly unexpected blessing. In answering the first letter, I felt strongly that it was due to the Lord to acknowledge what a blessing had come to me immediately after their special prayer for me, as well as the coincidences about the hymn. I hesitated much and prayed very earnestly to be guided whether or not to send Such a Blessing. I recollected vividly all that had been said about hindering and lessening my influence if I spoke out; and then I saw that this might be all temptation, and that I might be grieving the Holy Spirit’s influence if I resisted the strong impulse to send it. So I committed it all to God, and trusted Him to send power with the little book and the letter I wrote with it. Now, only see! Has He not reproved me for my faint-heartedness in fearing to tell of His goodness to me? What could be more overwhelming than such an immediate result! Strangely enough, it has been so all along — in almost every instance in which I have entrusted all to my Master, and spoken or written freely and just as I felt He was guiding me, blessing has resulted immediately: from the day I went to Areley House till now. I still wait (in obedience), but I cannot help believing that if I had all this spring been speaking out freely and fearlessly, I should have had tenfold more blessing and result. I have had very much, but not so much as I might have had. I would give anything for all around me to enter into the fulness of ‘this miracle of love’ — why should I refrain from seeking to lead others into this utter rest of heart, which I know is no fancy? For the present I will still wait — I will not deviate from my present nearly invariable silence till after I have been to Switzerland.

On the very same day, while I was praying for it, the full blessing was poured out just gloriously upon a new friend of mine, daughter of that special friend of dear mother’s. They are going to have C. M. S. sermons in St. Paul’s, and ‘Tell it out’ is to be sung. (See Appendix.)

(To E. C.)

1874- I am more thankful than astonished. ... I am so

yiad for you, and feel sure that you will be increasingly lessed. I only earnestly hope that nothing of the same kind of opposition will be roused as here. It is singular that while your mouth is opened, my mouth is altogether closed! is more and more strong against the Conference, and several things connected with her make it my clear duty to submit and be silent.

I want you to pray specially for me on Wednesday about 12.15. It seems that some extra bold requests of mine at the last meeting, both for prayer and praise, rather startled the Association members, — the writer, of course, they guessed to be me. So Margaret is most anxious that I should use the opportunity, and at our next meeting give ’ personal testimony,’ a totally new thing in our meetings, telling them frankly what great things the Lord has done for me as to answering prayer. She trusts it may stimulate the whole Association. I know it will considerably astonish them if I do this unprecedented thing: then I cannot do this without going farther. I must tell out clearly upon what I believe this fulfilment of John xv. 7 hinges. Once started, I shall probably, God helping me, speak very strongly upon surrender and consecration (Matt. viii. 10); obedience, instant and implicit; and faith * without taking off discount, — as it may be the only, as it is the first opportunity of really addressing them and speaking personally and rousingly. Of course I shall carefully avoid all shibboleths. Now, will you pray that the Lord would put His words in my mouth, and that I may say neither more nor less than He would have me say?

I am quite satisfied that God is leading me aright; I only better understand the special help I want for Wednesday. To-day the words have come very sweetly to me, ‘Until the time appointed of the Father’ (Gal. iv. 2); and I shall be free to speak and act as I would like when His time comes. I know nothing I should be more glad of than if mother would invite you here. She will not just yet, I know; but when she does, do strain a point, and come.

Well, dear E., the Master knows what He has given, and what He has promised, and what He will do; and I do not expect He will disappoint me.

Mr. S. says he has had such joy in thinking, ‘Enoch walked with God’ 3ooyears! Then is our life to be worse and less than his? Nay, rather, ’ some even better thing ‘! Is not that good?

(To M. V. G. //.)
THE PARSONAGE, ROCKING, June 19, 1874.

I did not mean to write any circulars, but must send ne London and Bocking account. Once out of England,

shall leave all that to Connie, who will thus have a grand chance of distinguishing herself as a general correspondent.

I was consternated at finding H. had made engagements for every day! However, I felt sure I should be * cared for,’ and so did not trouble about it. She took me to Dora’s pictures. The two great new ones are more striking than the others. I wish I could stay to describe the weird beauty of ‘The Dream of Pilate’s Wife.’ Then I had a pleasant and long interview with Nisbet (the Watson of the London Board). I am delighted with him — so very kind and nice. He was called away for a few minutes, and brought me a great book of reviews, that I might amuse myself with reading up those under ‘Havergal ’ ! — several capital ones which I had not seen.

I returned with; and at 8 P.M. we went to a

party, and I was horrified at hearing carriages ordered 12.30! However, by special favour to me, ours was ordered at 11.30. I wondered what I was there for, and soon found out! For it is so strange how people drift me into actual personal religious conversation. No one could say I force it, and I know I do not; but, for instance, one gentleman, who began with small-talk and badinage, found himself in five minutes (we were in a quiet corner) face to face with personal salvation. I really do not know how it came about, but there it was; and he owned that he never thought of anything more than ‘how to get comfortably through the world,’ and * did not trouble himself about another just yet’ — he got so sobered down, and greatly interested; promised to think it all over, and thanked me. That was by.no means the only one I seemed sent to that evening. I was so glad I could sing so as to make them all listen; for it was a large double room, and all were perfectly silent for my music. I shall probably never know, but I do not see why I should doubt that seed dropped that night took root.

lit li June. — I intended to have a quiet writing morning, but suddenly felt a strong impulse to go and hunt up Miss Grant, who knew my father abroad, but whom I have never met. I sent in my card, and she came openarmed; strangely enough, for an hour before I came she had been thinking and praying over something of mine which seems to have stirred her deeply, and longing especially by any means to meet me, having no idea I was in London! So she thought I was almost miraculously sent! I was so glad I went; she just wanted a bit of special comfort She said her father, a literary man and editor, wished very much to see me; so another day I had a most delightful hour with him.

One day Rev. D. came to dinner — I wash there were 5000 more such curates — a real downright, devoted fellow, and all the sunshine in his face and over his life and work, and having the joy of winning souls. He is one who has found special joy and blessing of late, and Mrs D. too; in fact, I hear of it on all sides — Jesus of Nazareth is passing by in a most striking way among His own people with hitherto unrealized blessings for them.

16th. — Arrived at Bocking Parsonage in answer to earnest entreaty from the daughter of one of dear mother’s especial friends whom I had met at home.

It is most odd how in this out-of-the-way place people know everything I write, and I was so amused to find that even the school children wanted to catch sight of me! But better than that, God Himself seemed to have given a strong expectation that if I came, it would be for blessing — and so I feel sure it was. I had the ladies for a drawing-room meeting on Wednesday, and a little gathering of young girls and women on Thursday, and I did so enjoy them. As I do it, it is far less fatiguing than a party. You see otherwise these ladies would have been asked to tea, and I should have been chattering to ones or twos, and singing Handel, and so on for y’iree or four hours, and not getting so soon to rest as sual. Instead of this, they came at 7.30, and when all were ready I went straight to my place and opened with a little prayer; then — what if I did talk about Deut. xxxiii. 12 for about an hour, I had it all my own way, telling them just what I wanted to tell them, and what my own heart was full of, with no tension of trying to meet remarks wisely, and trying to make the most of opportunities, etc., which would have gone on for three hours at least at a party. And then I knew they wanted this, and wanted just the blessings I was telling them of; and then I could entirely trust the Master all the time to keep guiding every word, so that it is the smoothest of smooth sailing. After hymn and prayer, I asked if any one would like to ask any questions, and two or three asked very useful and suggestive ones, which I was delighted to answer. It was all over in an hour and a half. I do not say it did not tire me last year, but I find my expectation fulfilled now, and that I can do it quite differently, i.e. without any excitement or nervousness whatever. I look to my Master to give me just what He will, and I feel He does help me, and I leave the whole thing with Him. I took a previously prepared subject, so only needed quiet thought and prayer beforehand. I felt sure God would bless these meetings, and He certainly did — several finding new light and joy. All the time I was there I had such a vivid sense of His exceeding goodness and love that I do not think I ever spent a happier four days. One cannot tell everything, but I do not think either of my visits were resultless.

zoth. — I went to Bishop Stortford to see Ernest H.; he is such a dear little fellow, and was very communicative, and greatly entertained with my alpenstock.

[e came to see me off at the station: a pleasant in in my carriage asked me a question about the place; so I referred him to Ernest, who gave him explicit information. Then he said, ‘I wished to know, because I hope to hold some children’s meetings here.’ So I said, * It is Mr. Spiers, I am sure! ‘And so it was! He gave Ernest some books, and promised me to patronize him specially in the autumn. I asked him about his work, which is certainly one of the most wonderful things going, and got a great deal of really useful material from him. Then he asked me what my

/ork was, and I told him ’ whatever came to hand! ‘But that was not definite enough for him, I offered rny leaflet From Glory to Glory as my card; and he was so delighted. I arrived at Mrs. C.’s, who is delightful! It is a sort of dream to be at Mildmay; it is very delicious.

(To M. V. G. H.)

1874.

IT

•

I went to tea with Messrs. H. & R. at their business house; Mr. H. was bent upon Mr. R. hearing me sing my ‘Tell it out ’ and ‘When thou passest through the waters.’ I had a most interesting afternoon, half business, half pleasure. Both of them were taken with ‘Tell it out,’ and think it ’ such a hit,’ etc., and are going to issue it at once in song form, as solo and chorus with piano accompaniment. Then they wanted more of the same, and I sang my tunes * Euodias ’ to * ‘Tis the church triumphant,’ and ‘Onesimus ’ to ‘Only for Thee,’ and ‘Hernias’ to ‘Golden harps are sounding,’ and others; and they wish me to prepare a whole set. They say, ‘Tell it out ’ is safe to go. Mr. R. had never heard me play any sacred music before, and he started up, and said, ‘Ha! you are mistress here! ‘He exceedingly admires ‘When thou passest,’ and is going to publish it. Mr. H. sings splendidly himself — clear, high cultivated tenor voice.

I so enjoyed my visit to; was let alone, and

could write in peace; then quiet pony drives with Mrs.

. Some pleasant work opened for me. I believe

one has really taken the great step this week, and three others are earnestly seeking, and I am very hopeful about one of the servants.

You wanted me to write penny books. You have seen, / also for Thee, and Caswell will publish one for the New Year, The Five Benefits. Parlane is doing Packet IV. of my Leaflets.

(To M. W.)

All my care is upon His shoulders now! I have no burden, not an ounce. Blessed work here — one conversion and three grand blessings to tell about in this house since I came a week ago, and ‘more to follow,’ I am sure, for the Master is evidently here. So is Satan! for I never had such a pitched battle with him as last Wednesday — a soul seemed all but lost, and I never heard more distressing words. I was at it till after midnight — the battle is still pending.

I was terribly distressed for a whole day, because it seemed like living in sheer disobedience to my Lord. ‘In everything give thanks,’ — and how could I give thanks that my poor F. had lost the blessing! I could not ’ thank ’ for a trial which was not for God’s glory, but seemed all the devil’s doing. Then I suddenly saw I had not been taking the literal words! It is not ‘For everything,’ but only ‘In; ’ so I forthwith began to ’ give thanks” in ’ my sorrow, and felt greatly comforted. Was I right, do you think?

(To

October 19, 1874. — So you, too, are being stirred up by the ’ loving Spirit ’ to seek holiness and rest beyond what you have as yet found! Thank God! And I know not how to thank Him enough that though only a year ago I knew absolutely nothing of this blessed life — had not even read one word about it, — I can now tell you joyously that His own Hand has led me into it, and that for nearly a year I have not known what it is to have a shadow of care in things temporal or spiritual: all is cast upon Him, and He gives me victory and gladness in response to the utter trust (which is no less His gift); so that it is living a new life, and one which I really did not even suppose to be possible on earth. I enclose you what cost me more to lay at the Master’s feet than anything ever did. You will easily understand the shrinking from allowing such letters to be printed; but He has so very marvellously blessed this little book, ... it says so much more than I have time to say in letters. He is the same Lord, rich unto all that call upon Him, and the same fulness of blessing is as open to you as to me: only taste and see: only trust; only let Him do what He will with you; only take His promises (and His commands too) just as they stand, ’ without taking off any discount.’ ... He will teach and lead you, and show you what He is able to do for you. And may you soon know the full blessedness of utter surrender, continual cleansing, absolute trust, and implicit obedience.

... I should like to tell you, as well as many other dear ones, how it has all been one song of goodness and mercy, and how I want to sing out His faithfulness, and tell all His dear children that they need indeed ’ fear no evil’...

Will you look into each clause of the sixfold promise contained in the beatitude of * trust ‘? (Jer. xvii. 7, 8). You will enjoy it if you have not yet gone right into those two verses.

October 30, 1874. — ... How good He is! Oh, I am so thankful for you! And now entrust your trust to Him, and ’ the future is one vista of brightness and blessedness ‘... — Yours in joy and love.

... What you tell me of the Lord setting His manifested seal upon two of my hymns, ‘O thou chosen Church of Jesus,’ and ‘Certainly I will be with thee,’ made me feel very unworthy and very thankful, and (I cannot help saying it) sent a new thrill of love through my heart to Him who is so good to me. If you ever sing my hymns again, will you send up a prayer that I may more and more rejoice in the truths which they feebly represent; and, if it be our Master’s will, that He would give me yet many more powerful messages of song, for I cannot write without Him. (ToJ. T. W.)

WlNTERDYNE, 1875.

This is a very suffering Sunday, and it will be a relief i write and ask you to pray for me that the Lord would t patience have let perfect work in me, and that I may really glorify Him in pain. I was gaining strength steadily till a few days ago, and had arrived at being able to walk across the room once or twice a day; but now I have such intense pain, especially at night, that I do feel it to be very real ’ chastening.’ He has enabled me to be quite patient so far, and it is not that I fear His grace will fail for what is yet before me; but, dear friend, will you ask that it may not only not fail, but abound. My doctor says it may pass in a few days, but that it may be a much longer affair; anyhow, I have need of patience if only for the ’ few days.’ But I am clinging, yes, and resting, all the time, and the ’ perfect peace ’ is not touched.

And now I want to tell you a bit of good news. I did mean with all my heart and soul, ‘Take my will, it shall be Thine,’ but I did not quite dare to think He had taken it. But now need I doubt it any more? For I am sure my will would not have been perfectly satisfied and happy under present circumstances if He had not taken it. It would not come natural to me not to feel pain. But I do lament over want of growth in grace, because that must be my fault. I think any other Christian would have made progress in these five months of illness, (except in the matter of trust, and perhaps of patience), I do not see that I have. I never saw so much ’ unpossessed ground ’ as now, nor more of * unconquered territory.’ Yet, on the other hand, I have cause to praise with joyful lips, for more possessed and conquered than two years ago I should have supposed possible.

My Bells and Pillows are such a success numerically. Your ’ 100 acres’ is a delightful illustration. But I would trust my husbandman still, even if there were no crop visible next year! But perhaps there will be! I am nearly sure I shall disappoint the expectation of my friends — as to outward fruit, writing, etc.; but so that I don’t disappoint the Master, it won’t be so bad. It may be very long before I write again, if ever. You had a fallow time, had you not, not long after your blessing? Were you conscious of increased blessing after? However, an ’ afterward ’ of ’ peaceable fruit ’ is sure, because promised in every trial.

(ToJ. T. W.)

I know you will be glad to hear that the fire is cooling! But for twelve days it got hotter and hotter, such terrible pain day and night, but thank God quite

suddenly and unaccountably (except that turns out

to have been engaged in special prayer for me at the very moment!) pain subsided, every bad symptom decreased, and Mr. G. was perfectly astonished, as he had reason to expect to find me worse instead of better.

Your letters always help me, sometimes directly, sometimes by putting me on the track which leads to what I wanted. In your first note of mere inquiry you only said, ‘The Lord is right!’ ‘You can trust Him, I know.’

Those ten monosyllables were a volume of delight to me for days. ‘Right ’ opened out a grand view of the wise, omniscient, infallible, almighty love and faithfulness which make all that He does absolutely right — and not abstractedly right only, but right for me. ‘Can ’ gave a view of the difference between the time when I could not, and of His sovereign grace having enabled me to trust, and that led on to all the grand chain of * chosen,’ 4 called,’ etc., and so on with ’ trust ’ and * Him.’

Out of your letter I got nothing direct, but a great thing indirectly. It set me into a new track; had Jesus been speaking and I mistaking His voice? Tell me, when a text comes into my mind and I have said, ‘I thought of it,’ may I believe that it was not that / thought of it, but that Jesus spoke it to me? I have almost grasped this, not firmly; but it is possibly going to be a great step in my spiritual life, it would make such a difference! Hitherto it has only been when that peculiarly strong and irresistible flashing of a strikingly apposite text came to me, such as only comes at rare intervals, that I have dared to hope it was His voice. But when texts rise in one’s mind without any peculiar need or tension of soul, when they just ‘come into one’s head,’ reminding and warning, or comforting in a quiet, gentle, everyday way, — now, is that equally the Master Himself speaking to me? Don’t speak ‘smooth things’ about it, don’t say yes if you have any misgiving. But oh! suppose I have been mistaking His voice all this time, how I must have grieved Him! I really do not think any child of God can have more to be forgiven than I have had; ’ much forgiven ’ always comes home to me.

No! I was riot lamenting about lying fallow! That is

His doing, and I am satisfied, perfectly satisfied to be fallow as long as ever He likes. It is matter even of reason as well as faith; and if it were ’ fallow ’ all the rest of my earthly days, I should only expect the fairer and fuller harvest in heaven. For I ’ shall serve Him ’ there, even if ever, or very little more, here.

(ToJ. T. W.)

1875-

I wonder if this year is a sort of halfway house in my pilgrimage, and what the other half will be? In any looking forward (as to work), I can do nothing but trust and wait, for my present feeling is one of pure weakness, no sense of power for any work, whether direct soul-winning or any sort of writing. Even the plans and outlines of books, poems, etc., which I had when very ill, are all gone now. I am simply emptied — if ever there was an empty vessel it is I; and though if merely empty, one would look forward to His filling, the vessel also feels very small, and also spoutless! I never felt quite this before; I always hitherto have seen my work before me, and felt more or less ability for it — isn’t it curious? Your * Ask what I shall give thee ’ was brought back by the second lesson this afternoon — what a wonderful carte blanche! I could not sing the hymn after sermon, the favourite ‘O Lord, how happy we should be, If we could cast our care on Thee! ’ and marvelled that years ago I thought it charming! Fancy singing a lament over not being able to help continual lying! But does it not come to the same thing when He has absolutely and graciously commanded us to ’ cast thy burden,’ etc., on Him, if we are complacently to sing about how very nice it would be if we only could obey Him in this, and pathetically and practically describe our sad life of disobedience! Well, thanks be to Him, it would have been a simple falsehood for me to have sung most of the hymn, for I have cast my care on Him, and have not the faintest expectation of ever carrying a care again on my shoulders. Why should I? But it made me ever so happy, because I felt the real difference between the days when I could and did sing the hymn, and now. Don’t you think we ought to thank God and take courage when one thus sees an old landmark left far behind? It is so good of Him to lead one on, that it seems ungrateful to ignore it. How I should like to have a regular outpour to you of His manifold goodness to me! My heart seems too full of it to hold, sometimes! Just now I recollected Ps. cxlv. 7; never saw it in the same light before. Just what I have neither opportunity nor power to do now, but which will be fulfilled with such exquisite joy in heaven (when we have the long talk!), * They shall abundantly utter the memory of Thy great goodness.’ It is very curious, but I have thought more, and with more vivid delight about heaven, since I have seen no probability of going there for a long time yet, than I ever did before. But the very anticipation makes me much more happy to wait patiently and live and work (or suffer).

WINTERDYNE, March 6, 1875.

Mv OWN DEAR M., — ... I am under no restrictions now... any thing I feel able to do to divert metions no from the pain is allowed.... Just a fortnight ago, inflammation came on, and has caused me the most acute suffering I ever had in my life... especially at night. Sometimes it seems just agony, but I have intervals of rest, and comparative, though not absolute, ease.... The bad nights naturally result in severe headache (also mercifully with intervals). I never get any sleep without as much laudanum as can be brought to bear on the parts, and also on my head; and more than once no sleep even with that. So this fortnight (considering my nerves, which the doctors say make me exceptionally sensitive to pain) has been more real ’ chastening ’ than any part of my long illnesses. It is more than four months since I have been at family prayers. And now for the other side!

OF COURSE He is faithful! and so I do not merely imagine / ought to feel, but I do most distinctly feel, that all this weakness and suffering has been, and is, the crowning mercy of all the mercies which have been heaped upon me since the great blessing came to me December 2, 1873. I have been all through, and still am, not only kept in PERFECT PEACE, but I am so very happy that it has really seemed worth being prayed back from the very gates of heaven (which really seems to be the case!), if I may but tell of His faithfulness — witness to it in some way. ‘Not one good thing hath failed! ‘Nothing that I have trusted Him for has come short, and it seems to ’ come natural ’ now to trust Him utterly and for everything. The wonderful thing to me is that He actually does seem to have answered my prayer, ‘Take my will, it shall be Thine,’ etc., for I am not conscious of even the rising of a wish for even this terrible pain to be taken away one day sooner than His far-sighted love decides; nor of the least regret, when I was told (before this inflammation began) that I must not attempt or expect to be able to do any sort of work for at least six months more, even if I had no further drawbacks.

Now I am so perfectly certain that this does not ( come natural’ to me (obvious to any one who knows my decidedly ‘active disposition,’ and still more to those who know my excessive natural impatience — fidget /), that it is clearly altogether His own doing, and I do not know how to praise Him enough for it. For there is ’ no effort ’ whatever about it. I have never ’ sought to be resigned to His will;’ I have just simply rested and rejoiced in it all along, could not do otherwise, SEEING rather than believing the marvellous love and faithfulness and wisdom of which it is the outcome. I shall enjoy trying to tell people (if He lets me serve Him on earth again) what a splendid thing it is to be utterly His own, giving Him one’s whole trust, and then proving His grand faithfulness. I am quite sure if He was ready to do for me all that He has done, He must be even more ready to give it to others, for I should think very few Christians ever trusted and doubted as I have done, especially with the opportunities I had, and for so many years!

‘Forgiven much ’ is peculiarly my position; I cannot imagine any one being His child at all and grieving Him more and longer. I should like you to tell your sisters how good He has been to me, that they may see that 1 the blessing ’ stands fire. When I was taken ill I left all my small work in the Master’s hands, to do as He would — and so He has taken it all up; and taking the outward success as index, which, perhaps, I am not wrong in doing, it has never prospered so much as in these four and a half months, when / could not touch it. ... Nothing ever seemed to touch me more than the extraordinary way in which prayer for me in November seemed stirred up. I felt quite overwhelmed at all I heard afterwards, though I had a strong impression at the time that many were praying for me; I do not mean personal friends, but Christians in literally all parts of the kingdom, and not merely private prayer, but the number of prayer meetings at which I was repeatedly prayed for by people I never heard of, is most singular. Even special prayer meetings were held on my account, and Sankey prayed most fervently for me at the great Dublin meetings. It must be all the echo of Christ’s intercession.

Friday, March 12. — I must finish in the first interval of comparative ease I have had for three days. The pain has been far worse since I began, I should not have thought a mere limb could have caused me so much.... So, darling M., pray for me, and ask that grace may not only not fail (that I do not fear), but abound....

(To Margaret

1875-

I have just been writing my request for praise (Y. W. C. A.). What can I do? I can’t curtail it, and I might go on and add many, many details to the list. Oh I wish I could have come over to your praise meeting, and just tried to tell you all how gracious and faithful and near God has been all this summer; if I kept a diary it would be just a record of answers to prayer, and such great answers too. If you don’t mind, I wish you would tell the members at your next meeting, because they would be glad to hear how wonderfully God is answering one of them, and He is the same Lord over all — rich unto all that call upon Him. And as some have prayed specially for me and my work, they should feel that they have been answered.

(To Mrs. Brunot, America?)

1875-

You must have wondered at getting no answer all this time to your most kind and interesting letter. But the Master’s wise, dear hand has been upon me, and I am only now sending pencil replies to some of the many loving messages which came during my illness. I was taken ill in October with typhoid fever, but what with sundry relapses and results, it was a very suffering illness; it will be months yet ere I am likely to be able for anything beyond the little quiet opportunities of an invalid. But I do wish I could tell you how good God has been to me! It has been worth far more than all the suffering to prove His faithfulness, and to find how tenderly gracious He can be just when one most needs it. ‘Great is Thy faithfulness ’ shines out upon the past, and ‘I will fear no evil,’ on the future. And as for being held back from work, that is altogether His affair, not mine; and there is a fellowship of waiting, I think, in it. For He is waiting as well as I; and when it says, ‘And therefore will the Lord wait that He may be gracious,’ it is no wonder that the same verse adds, 1 Blessed are all they that wait for Him.’

You say you would like to know what particular work I have. Had I chosen for myself, I should have liked some definite service on which I could have concentrated energies and time, but the Master chose otherwise; and over and above the happy certainty that His choice is best, I think I can now see that His seeming hinderings have been furtherings, and that He has really permitted me to do more for Him in His way than I could have done in my own, and has given me a wider influence.

Delicate health prevents my undertaking any regular or permanent work. Other circumstances oblige me to be often on the move. So I am necessarily always on the watch for what He would have me do next, just any work He sends, according to locality or strength — sometimes helping others — sometimes starting a Y. W. C. A. branch — sometimes getting temporary Bible classes or meetings — sometimes only writing, but always having ten times more openings than I have physical strength for. Perhaps my specialities are direct personal work with individuals, chiefly young ladies, and ’ singing for Jesus; ’ in these God has blessed me so abundantly that often I feel as if I could not praise Him enough, even in heaven. And now that I am quite laid aside from any work (for I am strictly forbidden to write anything involving thought), it is just marvellous how He seems to have carried on my work for me, making my books and leaflets circulate more than ever before, and sending such singular blessing sometimes upon merely a pencilled note, that I keep wondering at His exceeding grace and love. He is so good to me, that it seems worth while being sent back from the very Golden Gates, which I thought a few months ago were just reached, if I may but ’ tell it out.’ I was extremely interested to hear of all your great work (so different to my little desultory bits!), and it seemed a special privilege and pleasure to have a sweet far-off greeting from one to whom the Lord has entrusted so much of His work. And it is a widening of one’s love and interest and hopes to hear, I will not say of what you are doing, but of what He is doing by you. I had hoped to have been at the Convention, yet I can hardly say I am disappointed, for there seems no room for that word in the happy life of entire trust in Jesus, and satisfaction with His perfect and glorious will. An invalid friend of mine said to me, ‘I think I begin to see how splendid God’s will is.’ Was it not beautiful? How glad we shall be to see the full splendour of His will unveiled and vindicated before all the universe! What manifold joy we have to look forward to in this one direction alone!

(To the late Mary Skeleton.)1

April 26, 1875.

Your treasured little note was one of the pleasantest bits of outer sunshine which reached me all last winter; it was so kind of you to think of me, and your tiny note was so sweet and full. I did not get it till March! when recovering from a long and suffering illness. I am not to think of any sort of work for months yet. But this long illness has clearly been the crowning 1 Chosen Chastened, Crowned: Memoir, M. Shekleton. Nisbet.

mercy of a series of varied and great mercies with which the Lord seemed almost to overwhelm me, ever since He led me into that perfect fulness of rest into which so many are entering. Every trial is but a new test of His faithfulness — a new * trial of His love ’ — and worth it!

Mine is probably only a temporary * calling apart ’ and waiting, but yours — how different! Yet even ’ among the shadows’ of your own path, you have a splendid work for your Lord, in lighting up so many similar ones in a way only a fellow-sufferer could do. How kind of Him to give you the happy thought of the Invalid Prayer Union, and so much blessing in carrying it out! Is it not — I can’t help saying delicious — to know that He chooses every bit of our work, and orders every moment of our waiting? What a Master we have!

I must tell you that it is quite remarkable how, during these months that I have been unable to have any communication with publishers or printers, God seems to have furthered and blessed all my writings more than previously; my Little Pillows and Morning Bells, specially, of which 8000 were sold in less than two months. It seems to me that the more completely one puts one’s work into God’s hands, the more He takes it up and furthers it.

May God bless the special work to which He lias so clearly called you, very richly this year, and be very present all the days with you, His dear, suffering worker.

(To E. Titterton

OAKHAMPTON, June 3, 1875.

You will fully understand why I have not sent you the receipt for your kind, good work for the poor Green Islanders all this time, though dated March 24. At that date I was carried from bed to sofa and no more; and though I am now convalescent, yet having had several drawbacks, I have never yet been strong enough for the journey home! But, oh, Emily, I wish I could tell it out what His gentle faithfulness is when one most needs Him. Both my illnesses have been so FULL of blessings, it seemed like everything coming true. Great is Thy faithfulness ’ shines out on all the past, and ‘I will fear no evil ’ on the future. I am not supposed to be allowed to write letters, but by pencil notes I am gradually acknowledging (not liquidating) the many debts I owe of kind and loving inquiries and remembrances. (To the late Miss Esther Beamish.y

July 26, 1875.

... We were close upon Midsummer, and I had gained no ground since Easter; very little improvement being followed by a relapse, though every surrounding was most favourable for recovery; and there seemed no way of preventing these relapses, which gave me no time to gain strength.

For the first time since my illness began in October, I had a time of spiritual depression, following in strange disappointment upon more than commonly fervent desire and prayer, that while others were receiving such blessing at Brighton, my Father would also bless ’ even me,’ and really confident expectation that He would make it a means of blessing to one of my very nearest and dearest; both which desires seemed unfulfilled, while an unexpected sorrow darkened in another quarter. He enabled me to cast the burdens upon Him; and then, during some days of literally ’ lying still ’ before Him, unable to sit up or even to read as usual in His own Word, He led me back into perhaps a sweeter, deeper rest in Him than almost ever before. On the 1 7th of June, the prospect of never being strong again came definitely before me. I looked at it very deliberately and fully — what it would be never to speak or sing or even write for Jesus, but only wait in quiet isolation and weakness, a burden to dear ones whose own burden I would like to bear, for years, perhaps for life. That this was not a mere improbable fancy is proved by my sister Miriam having written the very words * she will be a chronic invalid,’ on or about the same day. But as I looked, I wondered at His great goodness to me in thus proving to me that He had answered my prayer.

‘Take my will: it shall be Thine;
It shall be no longer mine.’

For I could not, did not feel one quiver of shrinking from the prospect, — not a fear, not a regret, not a choice in the matter. It was all * of course ’ — of course He would be ’ with me alway; ’ of course His grace would be sufficient; of course it would be all best and happiest, His will must be always sweetest and dearest. And as for service, that was altogether my Master’s affair, not mine at all — He could do, and should do what He would ’ with His own.’ I had the sweetest possible communion with Him about it, and felt, naturally enough, altogether light-hearted; for all that would have been too heavy for me was put and left in His dear hands. I seemed perfectly dead to any possible sense of anxiety or care about the future; and the present, even with fever and pain and languor, was what I would not have exchanged with any one’s. Next day, June 18, was indeed much to be

k remembered. In the morning I was hardly so well, very weak, and with that indescribable sense of being ’ ill all over ’ which certainly does not naturally either raise one’s spirits or herald a cure. But it was ’ perfect peace ’ literally passing understanding. My sister Ellen drove

Hover to see me. In reply to her wish that I should come as soon as possible for change of air to Winterdyne, I told her it was useless thinking about it, — that no one could say when I should be able for the drive (not four miles), and that she must dismiss the idea altogether for the present. After she was gone I was again led to look at the prospect of chronic invalidism, and again, even more definitely and joyfully, ‘left it all with Jesus, After dinner I was left alone for some time, thinking I might get a little sleep, and little thinking what a much better thing the Lord was going to give me! Instead of sending sleep (I say it reverently), it seemed as if Jesus Himself came and drew me out leading me on to tell Him what I hardly told myself. All through my illness I had never once felt able to pray for recovery, or even for mitigation of pain. More than once I thought I ought, for the sake of others, to try to ask it; but invariably it seemed as if the Holy Spirit checked my prayer and changed it into, ‘No! Lord Jesus! / would rather leave it entirely with Thee, and not even ask — do just what Thou wilt.’ Now, however, He seemed to say to me that the time was come to ask for recovery; but I told Him that I did not want to ask unless He gave me the prayer, and that if He did, I should expect His gracious and direct answer. Then He at once took away all the barrier, and put the prayer into my very lips. I prayed it, not as my prayer at all, but as His! Then I asked Him, ‘What about the answer?’ — watching and wondering what He would graciously say next (* I will watch to see what He will say unto me,’ Hab. ii. i), and told Him I felt He had given me faith to be healed when He would. Then came, ‘I am the Lord that healeth thee!’ with startling emphasis on ‘heal.’ I literally started, and held my breath! Surely He Himself had said it! Then a sudden temptation, I believe from Satan himself, to think it was only a common act of recollection of the familiar words. But I did not stop to attend to this; but asked Him if He would condescendingly confirm it to me, if He had indeed c spoken to my heart.’ Instantly He did so; for again and again the assurance rang out in my heart, in such a way that I could not, cannot possibly doubt, that it was ‘Jesus Himself.” I am the Lord that healeth thee.’ I thought if ever He gave a marvellous opportunity for exercise of faith, here it was. So I praised Him, and told Him I would and did take Him at His word. And I did, and of course I was healed; for I saw that healiM was not merely ’ will heal; ’ so I began to expect to find myself actually healed. This communion had been so absorbing and intense, that I had forgotten pain and discomfort; but now a pause seemed sent, that I might calmly realize the healing. It was real and complete! I examined my own sensations; it was a total change — no pain, no feverishness, no sense of being ill anywhere, much less ’ all over ‘! The question of restoration of strength had not been touched upon; it seemed quite apart from that of cure, and neither prayer nor faith had been given me for that. Thus I proved the more literally how exactly it was ’ according to my faith j ’ for though well, I was very weak. After a little while of praise, and then a sort of hushed rest, I thought, ‘As I am healed, I may just as well act upon it! ‘I had not intended to rise at all, unless perhaps just to have my bed made; but I got up and dressed!

When next my sister M. came into the room, she was surprised to find me dressed. I assured her I was evef so much better, and should not be the worse for getting up, but did not tell her what reason I had for saying -so. I found that, half unconsciously, I had yielded to a temptation to watt and see, and not tell what the Lord had done for me till time had proved it by no relapse occurring. As soon as I detected this unbelief, I felt thoroughly ashamed of it, and forthwith ‘burnt my ships’ by telling the whole, trusting to the Lord to ’ make it good.’ And of course He did. Next day I was downstairs, and three days after went to Winterdyne!

From that day to this, July 26, I have never had another hour’s illness, but have gone on slowly gaining strength, with no greater drawbacks than a common cold

»and a little neuralgia. The Lord’s hand is still upon me in gentle restraining; for though much stronger, I am still quite unequal to ordinary physical or mental exertion, and it will evidently be a long time yet before I am able for ’ work.’

I shall not be surprised to find that others were praying very specially for me at that time. One distant friend, I know, was led to very special and fervent prayer for me at the very time. It seems to me that ’ the prayer of faith ’ which ’ shall save the sick ’ must be ’ not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God,’ and that in this direction lies the key to whatever experimental difficulties appear to surround the promise. I think the prayer, the faith, and the healing are all equally from God — distinctly His gift, and His only. (To an American Friendy

WHITBY, September 17, 1875.

I should have answered sooner, but have not been quite so well the last week or two; and if I had, I should have told you that the wise Master had not yet given me back the power of even the merest rhyme! But yesterday I read an article by a dear Christian friend trying to prove that there is such a thing as ’ sanctifying carefulness,’ and trying to make out somehow that we who testify that by His grace, we have cast all our care on Him, are under a sort of delusion! And then it made me so very glad to feel that it was no delusion, but that He does take every bit of my care, that it seemed as if my tongue, or rather pen, were loosed again, and I could not help a little gush of praise and testimony for the first time since my long illness. And though it is not at all the sort of thing for you to read as you wished at your Conference, I feel impelled to send this first little song of my restored life over to you (‘Without Carefulness’), so that you may give it to any one to whom it might possibly be a little message of cheer and trust. It would be too great a treat to me to come over; and I do not think I shall ever be quite strong for pleasures of that kind; but I shall be with you in spirit, praying your Conference may be grandly blessed. Perhaps some echoes of the Master’s voice to you and through you will reach us who cannot come over to listen with you.

MASTER! how shall I bless Thy name

For Thy tender love to me,
For the sweet enablings of Thy grace,

So sovereign, yet so free,
That have taught me to obey Thy word

And cast my care on Thee?

Curiously enough this hymn was written just exactly time to be used at two great Conferences, Nottingham, and the great American Women’s Christian Association at New York! I was invited to this, and if I could not come, to write a poem to be read at it and printed. I was going to answer ‘Cartt write a line,’ when this came to me, and will reach the Committee just in time, though I did not write with the intention of sending it. Then Mr. Shaw asked for a copy the same day to send to a friend. A reply came asking permission by telegraph to use it at Nottingham Conference. Had the obnoxious Magazine article reached me just a day later, it would have been too late for both!

~

(ToJ.E.J.)
ROYAL CRESCENT, WHITBY, October 1875.

... It always seemed to me harder to trust the Lord about His own affairs than about one’s own! and I have chafed terribly at the strange falsehoods which have been permitted to spread and hinder the seekers after a better and happier life in Jesus, but quite lately He has taught me to cast the burden of His cause upon Him, and I am so glad He has. It had long seemed easy to cast all my own care upon Him, and to be utterly restful. These last two years have been a totally different life to me.

Doubt not that He is leading you by the right way, dear friend. Only give yourself up to the dear Lord, and let Him do just what He will with you, and take all He holds out to you. He is so gloriously gracious and ‘able.’

... But sing my Consecration Hymn — don’t sigh it any more!

‘He hath done all things well.’ How sure we are of that I .-.’.’ Thou hast known my reproach, and so your dear one is only having fellowship with Him. Christ said, ‘Reproach hath broken my heart’ Think how the Lord heard every word that was unkindly said to — — ! Don’t you think he had his Master’s tenderest sympathy? But I do feel very much for you both in this added pain. — In most loving sympathy.

(ToJ. T. W.).

WHITBY, October n, 1875.

I am not nearly so strong as before ray illness. I think it will have to be so literally ’ half-days ’ henceforth. But of course it does not trouble me. Not only that I know He can make a half-hour’s work worth a whole day’s, but more and more I am resting in His will. It is so good of Him. I ought to appear so obviously different to others after all this most precious time of chastening and waiting. Surely He will not have let it been all lost upon me. I want to bring forth fruit to His distinct praise and glory; it is ‘afterward’ now, and He must be looking for peaceable fruit, and others will look too. I can only put this earnest desire into His dear hands, and ask Him to fulfil it in whatever way He sees best. I think the thing I most want is to have self completely crushed tinder the wheels of His chariot; it rises up again and again in different ways.

Of late I have found it such an odious temptation cropping up, when the affectionate deference of friends treats me as an advanced Christian, the effect of which is to make me see how very near the bottom of the ladder I am. It used to take the form of elation at public notice, reviews, etc., but that has worn out already. The newer form is much more horrid. I don’t think I have much temptation, less than many, which is most merciful; but it is great pain to be tempted to such an entirely hateful and also contemptible disloyalty as selfgratulation. Oh! for full deliverance.

(ToJ. T. M)

October 1875,

Somehow I think God is giving me more * power than before.’ I leave more implicitly every single word written or spoken to His guidance; because I don’t ask Him to guide my words, but to give me His. I do not see why any should ask a lesser gift when one sees a greater one to ask for, and of course I expect that He will do it, so the words seem more resultful with less effort, and generally with none at all. I was looking at many possibilities not pleasing to nature, and I could not really detect that I had any wish or choice apart from His will. I was so delighted about it, and I was so distinctly and joyously conscious that I was not only His, but entirely His, that it came nearer to ’ satisfied ’ than anything yet. The whole thing is really like living in a miracle! He has taken away now all the fear of going back into the weary old up-and-down life. Why should one, when He is ’ able to keep ‘!

(ToM. V. G.ff.)

November 13, 1875.

‘I will direct their work in truth.’ So be it as to yours for this year. I have ordered Eugene Stock’s Lessons on the Life of our Lord for you — but why you don’t approve of Concordances is past me or Moody to imagine! He thinks them indispensable to fully getting hold of a subject! Without one (after one’s own searchings) you cannot be certain you have thought of every text on a subject.

In answer to your question about Reality, I find it was written at Whitby on the very evening of N.’s prayer!

Dear mother likes Reality better than anything I ever wrote! she gushed over it, till it actually made the tears come into my own eyes! I didn’t see anything in the verses myself, but mother says ’ it’s perfect ‘!

About. I have not brain-stock enough to turn out

any great quantity of original writing; if I spin too much yarn, it will be proportionately weak. There will only be real value in anything I write in proportion to the amount and extent of living (’ life-blood ’ if you like) that goes to produce it. I am only afraid my snare will be to write too much and lose weight and substance thereby. Therefore I considered it would be a most healthy and useful variety of work to arrange this Birthday Text-book (Red Letter Days) for Marcus Ward. I shall write perhaps a few dozen new verses, involving very little new yarn spinning, as the rest are old. I so arrange it, that for the next ten years, the verses will be suitable to our Church festivals or seasons. It is occupation of the easiest kind over my Bible, and all the time I am putting in rather than pouring out, and I hope I shall not select 365 texts without some mental and spiritual gain to myself.

( To Margaret IV.)

November 27, 1875.

God is so good to me — it is all ’ without effort,’ and has been all along, as to being perfectly satisfied about either suffering or waiting. Suffering is now almost past. I have very little pain now. Waiting will probably

242 LETTERS, I £70- 1875.

extend pretty much throughout 1875 — but I have not one regret or quiver of longing for anything but what He appoints. It is quite curious to find how completely He has answered me (and at once) as to this. — Isa. xxx. 18: That is for you as well as for me.

December 16. — I have come back into the current of life after just twelve months under His shadow for such the silent and most suffering year was to me.