Letters, from 1876 to 1879

43 BINSWOOD AVENUE, LEAMINGTON,
January 17, 1876.

.. I have it very much on my mind, when really free, to write Sunday Morning Bells for the little ones, and yet I do not seem to know what to say. Of course, if the Lord means me to do it, He will tell me what to say when His time comes; but just now I am an ’ empty vessel ’ with a vengeance.

I have just heard from the Punjaub that Morning Bells and Little Pillows are going to be translated into Hindustani, and are already used in mission schools.

I do trust you are less suffering, if it be His will. Last year I got great comfort in great pain from ‘THY hand presseth me sore.’ That dear Hand!

I am wonderfully better since I came home; the work at threw me back sadly for a while. I cannot do much without suffering for it. Yours in Him who so loves us.

(To M. V. G. If.)

1876.

I was really tempted to be almost envious of your getting into quiet quarters! it does seem as if so much of my life were worn and wasted with merely ’ seeing people ’ — of course, I do try to use opportunities, but so many acquaintances are just the senior sort from whom I neither gain nor can very well give. And mother always says * nobody has such an uninterrupted life ’ as I, arid yet I know I long for just one week without every day but one on average having engagements (services, meetings, lunches, teas, etc.) with all the calls and callers over and above. Only once since I came home have I got a real country walk alone! yet I would give a great deal to be able to secure that two or three times a week — I seem so to need it. Not that I am not sure it is right, or God would not appoint it, only it is mysterious that I should be placed where I have so much of what tries me much more than actual work would.

I had not thought of the sea at all this year; I meant to economize, as I so want to do as much as possible towards finishing off B.’s education. If I went, I do not at all see the use of going in the height of the season, when lodgings everywhere are just double. What I should like would be to allow for finishing my books, instead of trying to clear off the MSS. before going, and then make a real holiday of a visit to Winterdyne or Ashley Moor after. In fact, if any year, I could be sure of two full months clear for writing, I would consent not even to try to write the other ten, and should get more done! I so want undistracted quiet — it is not merely being able to get a certain number of hours at my desk, but having the other hours undistracted by so many interruptions and controverted topics, and knowing of perpetual fresh phases of naughty and mischievous gossip and slander. I have plenty of actual time for my desk, but cannot come straight away from being annoyed about M. R., or set thinking about somebody’s difficulties, and just sit down collectedly to write, the same as if I had been lying on the grass or strolling up a lane.

Sir Henry Baker’s sister wrote to tell me how ill he was, and that he wished to thank me for * a deeply interesting letter ’ — she wrote nicely, and in replying, as she had mentioned his much pain, I ’ hoped it was not presumptuous to hope that the enclosed leaflet might possibly be a tiny cup of cold water.’

A SONG IN THE NIGHT.

I TAKE this pain, Lord Jesus,

From Thine own hand,
The strength to bear it bravely

Thou wilt command.
I am too weak for effort,

So let me rest,
In hush of sweet submission,

On Thine own breast.

I take this pain, Lord Jesus,

As proof indeed
That Thou art watching closely

My truest need:
That Thou, my Good Physician,

Art watching still;
That all Thine own good pleasure

Thou wilt fulfil.

I take this pain, Lord Jesus;

What Thou dost choose
The soul that really loves Thee

Will not refuse.
It is not for the first time

I trust to-day j
For Thee my heart has never

A trustless ‘Nay! ’

I take this pain, Lord Jesus,

But what beside?
‘Tis no unmingled portion

Thou dost provide.
In every hour of faintness,

My cup runs o’er
With faithfulness, and mercy,

And love’s sweet store.

I take this pain, Lord Jesus,

As Thine own gift;
And true though tremulous praises

I now uplift.
I am too weak to sing them,

But Thou dost hear
The whisper from the pillow,

Thou art so near!

‘Tis Thy dear hand, O Saviour,

That presseth sore,
The hand that bears the nail-prints

For evermore.
And now beneath its shadow,

Hidden by Thee,
The pressure only tells me

Thou lovest me.

It is singular he made that his own last word to his people! for he wrote a short letter to them in his Parish Magazine and added a P.S., ‘the following beautiful hymn, kindly sent him by F. R. H./ and printed the last words from him as man loved Christ personally

it in full — thus these were
ricar. I believe that
beyond what most do.

It is quite clear why I was sent here, and why my cold got worse instead of better. Two dear boys, thirteen and fourteen, seem to have taken quite a decided step into life and joy. It seems so very singular that these two should be slightly invalided just then, both being clearly ’ soil prepared,’ having secretly wished to be safe. I had two talks with the elder on Friday — a most reserved boy, yet he quite opened out at the second interview to me. On Sunday I sent word he might come to me if he cared, any time while the rest were at church. Down they came, the minute the door closed on the churchgoers, and there they stopped till dinner-time! looked so sweet and peaceful, and told me he

did ’ come ‘Friday night! Little seemed eager and

thirsty. During P.M. service I went to them and found both at work at ‘Bible railways,’ which I had shown them how to find and make, and they had together found some surprisingly thoughtful connections. Went at once to the point, and it seemed then and there grasped by

—, who just dropped his dear little head on my shoulder and cried for downright joy! Had a most blessed time with the two, and prayer, of course.

This afternoon came to me (I said they would

find me alone in the dining-room at 5.30), and

was delightful, seemed overflowing with real joy, such clear sight of the ’ instead of me.’ I had talked about Christ as reigning as well as saving, so I said, finding

how sure he seemed about ‘Saviour,” But is

Jesus your King, too? ‘The little fellow seemed as if he could hardly contain himself, and said so emphatically, * Oh, I have promised Him He shall be my King, and He is! ‘Then he volunteered the information that he

was ’ quite sure had really found Him, too,’ that they

had been walking and talking together all the time they had been out both to-day and yesterday, and had been so happy together. My proteges have taken keenly to making bouquet-holders for the Bible flower mission. You see it was a definite thing which then and there could be done for Jesus. They prefer choosing their own texts, and have done some beautifully.

(To the late Julia Kirchhoffer).

March 1876.

Hurrah! I said it when I saw your £6, 18s. od. on the card, so naturally I write it also. You are a properly progressive collector. Seriously, I am so delighted. If the two or three still remaining cards come in at all, we shall pass even the ^50, which seemed great things.

Well, dearie, I think you are doing the first duty in making home pleasant, garden included. And I have a strong idea that up to the age of twenty-four, it ought just as much to be a preparation time with girls, as it confessedly is with men — and that we should have more ’ thoroughly furnished ‘Christian lady - workers if it were so. Only I think the great point is, that it should be regarded honestly as preparation, not studying or drawing, etc., merely because we like it, and it is a nice way of getting through the days,

Pray, clear, that you may be so wholly the Lord’s that everything shall be really and truly as ’ unto Him,’ and that He would prepare you for whatever He is preparing for you in the unknown future of work and trial. You see you cannot possibly tell what you are really preparing for — only He knows; so how important to put the ’ preparation time ’ simply and trustfully and honestly into His hands. I am glad to hear of the Latin, and I am inclined to think that every kind of mental culture is even specially right for you. You know I believe in your poetry, spite of the editors! Only, ‘His time is not yet come.’ Perhaps He will keep you ten years in the shade, before He uses your pen, as I think He will use it — if it is altogether at His disposal — and all those ten years will be added power and ripeness. You cannot think how thankful I now am that He kept me back for about that space! I see as clear as daylight all sorts of reasons why it was just the wisest, best, and most really resultful thing He could have done. How I laughed to scorn as unmitigated absurdity a persistent prophecy of a literary friend that * the day would yet come when editors would have to wait their turn,’ and that is precisely what it has come to now, though I as soon expected to be Empress of China! Trust Him implicitly about it, when once we have yielded ourselves up to be His instruments, and put ourselves entirely at His disposal, it is altogether His affair to make the best of us, and bring the most glory to Himself by us.

(To the same.y

WINTERDYNE, March 19, 1876.

This is most delightful, — a grand advance! and it more than covers my own losses too, in the sum total! for had I been well and at home, I could have certainly got two or three pounds worth of new subscriptions or donations to make up for some handed over to start a new collector, and some failures.

My mother has got all my Leamington subscriptions for me, which is doubly kind, as she has been ill herself for more than a month. It seems to me that whenever I cannot do my own work, and have to leave it entirely to God, He takes it up, and does a good deal more for me than I should have done for myself. I asked Him not to let the Irish Society suffer by my illness; and here He inclines Katie B. and you to do so much extra! It has been remarkably so with all my books this winter. I have not been able to communicate with any publisher till a few days ago, since October, when I gave the MS. of Little Pillows and Morning Bells to Nisbet. Well, we boldly started an edition of 4000 each! which were not in time for the advantage of Christmas orders. Yet in seven weeks we had to reprint them! Also, they are going to be translated and published by the Religious Tract Society of France; and also some one in high places is going to give them to all the royal children. Caswell had to reprint my Five Benefits four times in as many weeks, the demand was so great! The same principle holds, does it not, dear J., in everything (I do not mean but that we are to do our very best when able) — the more entirely a burden, a care, or a work is cast on the Lord, the more entirely He takes it for us. It is so restful to have given up altogether to Him body, soul, and spirit — all one has and is — unreservedly. Life is a different thing thenceforth.

(To

I send you three little songs, only arranged from my tunes j but Hutchings & Romer were so taken with these

^£•0111 Havergal’s Psalmody, that they commissioned me to write a set of six, with easy piano accompaniments, which I was delighted to do, as it gave me an opportunity of adding to the very meagre supply of sacred songs sufficiently tuneful and sufficiently easy for drawing-room singing. Most of the ‘sacred songs’ extant are such very pathetic and dismal affairs that no wonder young people do not want to sing them!

Francesco Berger has lately made a very beautiful song of my words, ‘Enough.’ This is published by Lamborn & Cocks, London; and I greatly hope it will circulate, for the sake of setting forth the truth of the words.

ENOUGH.

I AM so weak, dear Lord, I cannot stand

One moment without Thee!
But oh! the tenderness of Thine enfolding,
And oh! the faithfulness of Thine upholding,
Ami oh! the strength of Thy right hand 1

That strength is enough for me.

I am so needy, Lord, and yet I know
All fulness dwells in Thee;

And hour by hour that never-failing treasure
Supplies and fills, in overflowing measure,
My least, my greatest need; and so
Thy grace is enough for me.

It is so sweet to trust Thy word alone;

I do not ask to see

The unveiling of Thy purpose, or the shining
Of future light on mysteries untwining;
Thy promise-roll is all my own. — Thy word is enough for me!

The human heart asks love; but now I know

That my heart hath from Thee
All real, and full, and marvellous affection,
So near, so human, yet Divine perfection
Thrills gloriously the mighty glow!

Thy love is enough for me!

There were strange soul-depths, restless, vast and broad,

Unfathomed as the sea;
An infinite craving for some infinite stilling;
But now Thy perfect love is perfect filling 1
Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God,
Thou, Thou art enough for me!

(ToM. V. G.ff.)

1876.

Other workers on all sides seem doing more and more — I less and less! I am quite content; only it is curious how I have been held back from any work for two and a half years. Since the Liverpool Mission and the hymn meeting at Bewdley, I have done nothing, — not even any writing. I cannot now even do the underground individual work which used to be my speciality at Leamington, for I catch cold so often on coming out after paying a call. And now my choir work is stopped too! as I have another bad cold, and mother wishes me to give it up. By the bye, I think you and dear E. do not in the least understand that — you think it merely a ’ choir practice,’ which any secular musician could take. It is no such thing, but the same sort as my hymnmeeting; only that I am now much less nervous, and speak more freely and personally than in 1873. It s to me just the same opportunity as having a large open Bible class; and I am not sure that it does not give me more influence, just because it is in a less usual groove, as far as those who attend are concerned. And then it is no trifle to aim at real ’ singing for Jesus ’ in such a congregation as St. Paul’s, — a really first-class one, both as to size and social position. The aim I have set before them is that, as Paul and Barnabas ’ so spake that multitudes believed,’ they may ’ so sing that the same result may follow.’

I believe even the few weeks I have taken it have been really resultful. The organist tries to express the spirit of the words. I told him * I had prayed that his fingers might be eloquent for Jesus.’ He has seemed peculiarly struck with Hymn 633 (S. G. G. ‘I gave My life for thee; ’ and I have had a most hopeful letter from him about it. Then the Christian members pull with me and pray with me heartily; and I hope for real work among those of whom I stand in doubt. So I question whether I could better invest an hour a week than in this; of course there is no laborious preparation, as there would be if had a Bible-class of thirty or forty upper-class ladies. I have been waiting to explain this, because some remark showed that the work was totally misapprehended. However, now I am to give it up altogether, and only hope I may perhaps be allowed it another season. Mr. Rogers has always been present; but he is so kind, I do not mind him in the least now, though I wished him at Jericho the first time! He leaves it quite to me; and practises just as if he were one of the choir, setting a

good example! I am told that the Rev. never

was so meek in his life before, and that his wife says he is ‘a sight to see’ at the practices, keeping in the background for a whole hour! I should not choose choirtraining as my work, but it is just doing it instead of Mr. R., and so sparing him time and strength to spend on his far higher work; and really nothing can be more important than that he should be spared for his pulpit.

(To.)

May 4, 1876.

Yes, the loss of my musical work was nearly total: a few plates happened to be at the foundry, and thus escaped. It has been my whole spring’s work to compose several quite new tunes to some hymns of uncommon metre; also I had most carefully revised many others, and this work has both fettered and fatigued me greatly. I must just patiently rewrite my own tunes from memory, and I am hoping against hope that the proofs may be got through by August, so that I can go to Switzerland with Maria, which would probably do us both immense good.

I heartily agree with you about ’ business,’ and wish every Christian worker, clerical, lay, and female, could

II

have an apprenticeship to some business first! My father was eminently business-like, methodical, and punctual, and so I ought to be! Committees I never belonged to, and never shall, and believe more successful work is often done by some one brave man or woman.

I am rather in danger of being a hero-worshipper just now, inasmuch as I never did hear any man (of course I always tacitly except my own dear father) whose sermons I so totally like and enjoy as Rev. J. H. Rogers’. I have heard a few finer single sermons, but never any one whom I am so glad to sit under,’ to use that very horrible phrase! And while I was breaking my neck, looking up at the pinnacle on which I had set him, he quite startled me by coming down and seeking my friendship. He preaches courses of sermons, which I always prefer to single ones — his Thursday morning lectures on the First Epistle of St. John are glorious — only it is such a responsibility to hear them. Then we have a delicious little Saturday evening prayer meeting, and there is an excellent curate. We have S. G. G. hymns to Havergal’s Psalmody », and I have been choirmistress! We have just the sort of service I like best, brisk and bright, reverent and orderly, with no single thing to fidget me; strictly evangelical, and yet so cheery.

I have just been reading the report of the Church Missionary Meeting at Exeter Hall. It must have been glorious! Oh, M., I don’t believe that the former days were better than these. I cannot understand the dismal view some folks take — * Of the increase of His government there shall be no end’ — certainly we seem to see the increase when we look back. Satan is very rampant, too j but what else can we expect till he is bound? I am glad you are at temperance work — I don’t know details of that association, but I rejoice in any attempt to rescue from that awful drink.

I have drifted into helping the editor of Hymns of Consecration. It is odd what desultory work one drifts into. But oh, M., it is wonderful that He should accept as service such wretched scraps as are all that I can bring — one does long for the perfect service above!

(To M. V. G. H.)

I cannot tell anything yet about summer plans — I should like an outing with you, but could not go out of reach of a piano, as proofs of S. G. G. will be coming all the summer. If we go to Snowdon, I could perhaps arrange to have the use of one.

I have had quite a struggle with my ’ will ’ — I should so like the way to be opened for me to come and live with you, dear Marie. It is a very awkward position here — no freedom, always afraid to pay a call, or write a note without specifying. But I would never pain dear mother, or do anything she did not positively like. It seems most clear that I am placed here, and that without some most direct interposition of Providence, I should be doing wrong to leave, and could not expect a blessing. And again it would be bad for you, because I could not be an active outdoor helper, without really giving up what all say is my own work; and my living with you would be a mere drag, and prevent your having a real helper. I only let this out to you as my dear sistery but with the most earnest entreaty that you won’t be planning or contriving or hinting in any way. If it were the Lord’s will. He would throw the door unmistakeably open; if not, I don’t want any human hand to pick the lock! ‘Trust you?’ It’s just the very greatest human comfort I have, being able to trust you so implicitly, and knowing you understand everything better than any one else does. And you never say or do anything I would just rather not!

I never make the faintest opposition, or even counterproposal, now to anything that dear mother arranges for me. I have long since determined, God helping me, there shall be no colour of excuse for saying I am inconsistent. I know I have been wrong now, for I was so poorly and faint, I had set my mind on a day or two’s quiet and rest at home. I quite longed for it, and so was disappointed when it could not be, and was not ready for whatsoever my Lord the King appointed; so it is quite right I should learn to be invariably submissive to her. Outwardly I know I am absolutely so, but outwardly is not enough. I need not tell you that I am seeking patience and strength, but I seem to be allowed to feel it most sensitively and shrinkingly, and I found myself praying most earnestly that this cup might pass from me, when you know bodily pain extorted no such prayer. Still ‘Thy will be done ’ does not fail in its true sweetness, and is the deepest Amen to even that prayer.

LEAMINGTON, May 31, 1876.

DEAR SISTER MARIA, — I have been thinking and praying much about your wish, that I should come and live with you. I am wondering whether I ought to take what has just passed as an indication that I am in the right place, and should not be impatient of the little cross attached to it. You know part of my feeling was that I could not be of half so much real use here as I could elsewhere. Well, the last two days it really seemed as if all at once God would show me that I am of use! — it has been most extraordinary how one after another has spoken or written to tell me I have been so blessed to them this spring. M. Watson had a great outpour, and told me she felt I made so much difference in her work that she did not think she could keep on the Y. W. C. A. if I were not here at all, and that she knew my influence was felt and working beyond what I could possibly know. A young Scripture reader, who is leaving for a more important post, writes me that if my words are as blessed to others as to him, I am blessed indeed; it seems I have been let lift him up surprisingly, though with very little effort. The curate has told Mr. R. how very helpful he thinks my choir practices are. A choir member called to tell me what great blessing she and three of her own friends have found all this spring. The enclosed note is another instance. Two other choir members have taken opportunity to thank me — all on the same Sunday.

Then yesterday I had a talk with Mr. R. and prayer, and he quite startled me by saying he was going to write, but spoke instead to tell me how he thanked God for my influence, that he was sure I was unconsciously doing a far deeper and greater work here than I could have an idea of; that he saw and felt it in the choir, and that it was spreading in blessing; and that for himself he had never in his ministry been so distinctly conscious of receiving help, blessing, and influence from another; that it had told upon his own life and sermons; that I was probably totally unconscious of it, but that he felt there were ’ streams of vitality ’ from me which he felt; and that many others had spoken to him of feeling the same. He spoke most solemnly and with moist eyes. You may fancy, dear sister, how utterly surprised and intensely humbled and thankful I felt, especially as it so singularly coincided with so many others saying the same sort of thing to me. I had said in speaking of choir arrangements, ‘If I come back in the autumn,’ and he caught at the ‘if;’ so I told him (under pastoral confidence) that there was an ’ if,’ but did not explain details. He said he would not like to hinder what might be right, but that I could not realize what a really important sphere God had given me here, and that it would be intense grief and loss if I were taken away from St. Paul’s. Well, Marie dear, I only write all this to you, not to stop your doing whatever you seem led to say or do — only it seemed so very marked that I felt another door must be very distinctly opened ere I of myself close this, and that the ‘cross’ was what might well be patiently borne, if indeed God is blessing my even unconscious influence in such a place as this. If you feel inclined to write freely to dear mother about it, do so. If she caught at it, and it seemed that her own difficulties would be solved by my leaving, and at the same time you really wanted me to live with you, I should take the two together as outweighing the somewhat strange coincidence of the last few days. If mother negatives on her side, then I should consider that what Mr. R. and the others have told me was sent to encourage and cheer me in the present path. I am not troubling about it in the least — either way. As far as writing is concerned, I could work better with you than at L. As far as influencing individuals — I see that in a place like B. — I could not exercise as wide an influence as here. For myself there would be the set-off of sacrifice of great spiritual privileges as against the gain of having your invariable sympathy and understanding and no friction. Well, dear, the guidance is promised, and we shall have it!

1876.

I wish you had heard the singing at St. Paul’s last night, — ‘Hermas ’ to my hymn ‘Golden harps are sounding,’ ‘With hearts in love abounding’ to Papa’s tune ‘Zoan,’ and ‘Tell it out.’ They did ‘tell it out,’ rather! A surprising difference to the feeble washed-out singing a few months ago — it was like old St. Nicholas evening singing, and the church crammed like our father’s. Well, I would have done the same at Bewdley, if Mr. F. had backed me with the choir, and launched the tunes and hymns con amore as Mr. Rogers has done; and there was better material in the Bewdley choir than I have in the St. Paul’s, where there is hardly one good voice in itself. Splendid sermons on Sunday, Acts i. 7, 8, ‘Ye shall receive power,’ and i Pet. iv. 10. I wish he would just preach some over again at Champery! I have completely howled my voice back again in the choir!

We have had it lively at St. Paul’s — * Crowns of glory ever bright’ to my father’s arrangement of ‘Lubeck,’ with his ‘Hallelujah ‘; ‘I heard the voice of Jesus say ’ to his tune ‘Evan,’ No. 2 — both went first-rate. In c I heard ’ we take all the first lines in unison, which brings out what He says finely. At night we had ‘To Him, who for our sins was slain,’ to my ‘Tryphosa ’ (which I hear is a special favourite both here and at Mr. Bromley’s), and ‘Hallelujah’ to my father’s tune ‘Shen.’ Such a lovely sermon, John xx. 29. Mr. Shaw would have been in raptures! for Mr. R. came out strong about the delusion and loss of blessing in craving aids external, pictures, crosses, etc., and also the subtle snare to which evangelicals are exposed, of seeking something between them and the unseen Saviour, outpourings to a pastor, seeking spiritual help from Christian friends, more than direct faith in Christ’s ^//-sufficiency for all things.

(To/. T. W.)

LEAMINGTON, May 10, 1876.

I have had a wonderful week, such a lot of totally unexpected encouragements! I had no idea God was using me here half so much as it seems He has done. I have felt quite overwhelmed with His goodness, and thoroughly startled at some of it. Not conversions, somehow I hardly ever come in contact with unconverted folk! But very definite help and uplifting to Christians in all stages. The unaccountable fact is that I find God has not only been using me the last few weeks, while it has been so much brighter in my own soul, but even during the dimness. That is contrary to my previous experience, and I do not understand it. I am very happy now there is not any conscious cloud.

A friend wrote that I was represented as f Cordelia ’ in the Royal Academy, that is, it is such a likeness that she wondered if it was a real portrait introduced! So I felt curious to see what Cordelia’s character was, as I never read King Lear, and I took down Shakespeare to inspect her. But I was not in the humour for that sort of reading, and soon turned to my Bible and felt voracious! It’s almost too good to be true, to think that perhaps I shall really be at N. this day three weeks! Do pray that I may have a real great blessing, and be enabled to ’ pass it on ’ to many others.

ARGENTIERE, Jtily 24, 1876.

DEAREST MOTHER, — We liked Fins Hant so much that we staid nine days instead of three (four francs a day each and no extras), and walked down here this morning: a thunderstorm in the night made it cool and lovely; arrived here in sunshine at ten; and at eleven a tremendous thunderstorm came on, continuing at intervals all day, grand and wild.

We have two bright, little, lofty rooms together on a separate landing; so very quiet for Maria, and most cosy: our view will be straight out upon Mont Blanc and the Aiguilles when clouds permit, so we can have sunsets and sunrises without stirring a step! Maria has been perfectly delighted all along, and it seems I have taken her to places exactly to her liking so far, — it is so very nice coming with her, as we fit into each other’s ways precisely.

I must tell you just one thing, because it was so very original! I had been singing to myself two or three times, just odd snatches, but especially ‘Only for Thee* (to ‘Onesimus ‘). Our good Lonfats, a dear, simple Swiss family, were immensely pleased, and the old mother asked me to sing again (I had not known they were within hearing); so I told her what the hymns were about, and wished I had French ones to sing, but having none, thought I might as well see if I could not roughly translate. However, on sitting down to it, I found it seemed no more trouble to write French hymns than English; so I wrote one something like ‘Will ye not come?’ and ‘Golden harps,’ and one ‘Seulement pour Toi,’ founded on ‘Only for Thee,’ but most of it on the converse idea — ‘Thou only for me ’ — i.e. Christ only having done all and being all one needs, so as to meet the ‘Jesus and Mary ’ of these poor folks. Well, M. said this hymn was exactly what she wanted for them, and said she should like to send it to M. le Cur! who had been * on her mind’ all the week! * How send it?’ ‘Oh, I will take it myself!’ I thought she was joking, and said then she had better ask him to see if they were all right as to rules of French verse. ‘Very well, so she would — it would be an excuse for calling — besides, she wanted to refer to a French Bible, and would ask him to lend her one! ‘So actually off she went! and had a most pleasing interview — borrowed a Bible (with Romish notes, however), got him to look over my hymn, which seems to have been respectably done, as he asked if the writer was French; and she seems to have had quite a nice opening for telling him (without controversy) of the secret of true peace and joy, and entirely relieving her mind! Now, who but Maria would have dreamt of borrowing Bibles and getting Protestant hymns revised by a Roman Catholic priest! He was most courteous and nice to her, and seemed quite interested.

Maria seems to enjoy our tour, and I never travelled with any one who has such a keen appreciation of the beautiful.

To go back — we had a specially lovely sunset from Lausanne, July 13, and ditto sail up the Lake to Montreux; there I took a mule to Les wants to see Miss Whately, who was not well enough to come to meet me as she intended; while M. went on to Chillon, and pottered on her own hook till I joined her in train to Vernayaz. She went to see the Gorge du Trient, while I got rooms and engaged mules for the next day, 15th, when we went to Fins Hauts. Miss Whately is charming, very loving and kind to me; a wonderful linguist, and altogether mentally superior, and withal a most sweet Christian; I did not have much more than an hour with her.

One day while at Fins Hauts, we ’ went gipsying ’ — only in not quite the same way ‘as a long time ago ‘- started at 6 A.M., and went up mountain paths, resting and strolling gradually till we got to a lovely little patch of snow in a hollow, with whole beds of alpen roses all round, and big boulders and deep moss and shady little pines, and full view of Mont Blanc, and any amount of Aiguilles. It seemed quite ideal, till we tried to go to sleep; and then we found that not having reached the line of perpetual snow, we were within the line of perpetual insects, and about ten species of flies up to the size of hornets, persecuted us (they don’t bite, only buzz and fidget); so after dinner we had to seek a less ideal spot — not till after we had had ’ snow cream,’ which M. made in our tin cups, as we had a good deal more splendid cream than we wanted for tea. Later on we made tea most successfully with fir-cones — Maria making quite a clever fireplace with stones, and such a good fire.

We did not come home till after sunset, as we waited for that at a fine place, and our old Madame was in such a state of mind, and was just sending her husband to look for us. Maria made such an impression on them, they were ever so fond of her, and I believe she was really blessed to them. Though she did not set herself to work to go out of her way exactly, she seemed so to get at the root of the matter with so many to whom she spoke.

£nni

(To Tames Parlane.)

1876.
bre;

I must tell you a wonderful bit of Ministry of Song, through ‘Whom having not seen, ye love.’ I was taken on speculation to call on a clever young gentleman, just an infidel, knowing the Bible and disbelieving it, and believing that nobody else really believes, but that religion is all humbug and mere profession. I was not primed at all, only knew that he was ‘not a religious man.’ In the first place, I had no end of fun with him, and got on thoroughly good terms — then was asked to sing. I prayed the whole time I was singing, and felt God very near and helping me. After a Handel song or two which greatly delighted him, I sang ‘Tell it out! ’ felt the glorious truth that He is King, and couldn’t help breaking off in the very middle and saying so, right out!

Then I sang,1 ‘Whom having not seen, ye love,’ and felt as if I could sing out all the love of my heart in it. Well, this young infidel, who had seemed extremely surprised and subdued by ‘Tell it out,’ competely broke down, and went away to hide his tears in a bay window. And afterwards we sat down together, and he let me * tell it out ’ as I pleased, and it was not hard to speak of Him of whom I had sung. He seemed altogether struck and subdued, and listened like a child. He said, ‘Well there is faith then, you have it anyhow — I saw it when you sang, and I could not stand it, and that’s the fact! ‘He was anxious for me to come again.

When I came away, his sister, who had introduced me, wept for joy, saying she had persuaded me to come with a vague hope that he ‘’might find he could tolerate 2 religious person,’ but never dared to hope such an effect as this, and that she thought I had been most marvellously guided in drawing the bow at a venture, for every word and even action had been just right. I tell you this just because you are publishing both ‘Tell it out ’ and other leaflets for me. Will you sometimes pray that God’s especial blessing will go with them? I should add that it was almost a miracle in another way, for I had such a wretched cold that I doubted being able to sing at all, and yet I believe I never sang clearer and better and stronger. How good God is!

1 ‘Whom having not seen,’ Recitative and Air, by F. R. Havergal. Hutchings & Romer.

II

(Extract from F. R. H?s answer to a remark, c That death which we all dread? )

* NOT ONE SHADOW OF FEAR.’

1876.

No, not ’ all! ‘One who has seen and accepted God’s way of salvation, does not dread death. Perhaps I shall best express myself by doing it very personally — just giving my own experience.

I do not fear death. Often I wake in the night and think of it, look forward to it with a thrill of joyful expectation and anticipation, which would become impatience, were it not that Jesus is my Master, as well as my Saviour, and I feel I have work to do for Him that I would not shirk, and also that His time to call me home will be the best and right time, and therefore I am content to wait.

One night I was conscious of certain symptoms preluding an all but fatal attack of erysipelas, I had once before, on the brain.

I knew, if means failed, it was probably my last night on earth. I let my mother attend to me, but alarmed no one, and I was left alone in bed. Then, alone in the dark, I felt it might be my last conscious hour on earth, and that either sleep or fatal unconsciousness would set in. I never spent a calmer, sweeter hour than that. I had not one shadow of fear! only happy rest and confidence in Him ’ in whom I have believed.’

Was this delusion? Could it be so in the very face of death, that great f/#-masker of all uncertainties? I knew it was not delusion, for again, ‘I know in whom I have believed.’

Now, how has this come to be so with me, for it was not always thus; and I know as well as any one what it is to ‘dread death,’ and to put away the thought of its absolute certainty, because I dare not look it in the face.

There was a time when I saw clearly I could not save myself — that I deserved hell. In many ways, but in one most of all, this — that I owed the whole love of my heart to God, and had not given it to Him; that Jesus had so loved me as to die for me, and yet I, unmindful of it, had treated him with daily, hourly, practical ingratitude. I had broken the first commandment, and as I owed all my life, future and past, to God, I had literally ’ nothing to pay; ’ for living to Him, and keeping His commands for the future, would not atone for the past. I saw the sinfulness of my heart and life. I could not make my heart better. ‘The soul that sinneth it shall die.’ So, unless sin is taken away, my soul must die and go to hell; anyhow I must ‘stand before the judgment-seat of Christ.’

Where then was my Hope? — in the same Word of God, i John v. 10, it is written, ‘He that believe th on the Son, hath the witness in himself,’ and John iii. 36, ‘He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him.’

Believe what? ‘Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in His blood,’ Rom. iii. 25. He must keep His word and punish sin, and He has punished it in the person of Jesus, our Substitute, ’ who

His own Self bare our sins in His own body on the tree,’ i Pet. ii. 24.

Thus being ‘just,’ and having set forth Jesus as the propitiation for sin — if Jesus has paid my debt and borne the punishment of my sins, I only simply accept this, and believe Him, and it is all a true and real transaction. It is no theorizing but acting. I did it — I believed it, and cast myself utterly hopeless and helpless and lost in myself, at the feet of Jesus, and took Him at His word, and accepted what He had done for me.

Result? — joy, peace in believing, and a happy full trust in Him, which death cannot touch. Now it is a reality of realities to me — it is so intertwined with my life, that I know nothing could separate me from His love.

I could not do without Jesus. I cannot and I do not live without Him. It is a new and different life, and the life and light which takes away all fear of death is what I want others to have and enjoy.

I can say that such a light has shone upon all the dark bits of my life, that even if I was in heaven itself, I could not more clearly see why I was so led — that all the training was needed. And nothing tries me now; things that would so have disappointed me do not now. Even when I am suffering severe pain, I would not have it otherwise. And then in daily life, daily temptations, I find a victory in Jesus against sin, without any struggle.

And what was trial to me, — keen scathings, blightings, — is all taken from me, lifted out of me. It is really miraculous, I cannot say HOW; certainly it was not my own strength, but things that were such agony and bitterness — it is all gone. All was needed — and all that might have been a cloud between me and this full sunshine is taken away. Now it is utter calm and quietness, a realization constantly that —

Life is a gift to use for Thee,
Death is a hushed and glorious tryst
With Thee, my King, my Saviour, Christ 1

December 18, 1876.

... * Shadowless communion,’ — there you have touched a chord indeed I I too have tasted it, but I have not yet had the full, continual draughts which I believe may be ours, and which I neither can nor will rest short of!... You will intensely interest me, and perhaps help me both for myself and for possible future writing for others, if you will tell me anything that pen can convey as to your own tasting of the ‘shadowless communion.’ Think aloud to me about it for half an hour! Tell me how much you know of it, and yet how little! Tell me what Jesus says to you, and how He says it; tell me how, i.e. in what way it ‘blends with outward life.’ Tell me what you see is to be had, beyond what you yet have.... The enclosed, My King) has been the greatest writing pleasure I ever had! and in it I have said my say about lots of little points on which I wanted to have a say, and My King seemed to indicate a nice opportunity in this form.... The title, My King! is in itself a very song of joy to me.... I am afraid you will smile at some sentences in it, but I do not seem able to help saying absurd things in prose, especially when I want to hit a nail hard and square on the head!

February 4, 1877.. I am so glad for and with you... Yes, that

just what I expected — ‘how He speaks’ — always through His own dear Word. ‘If it lasts!’ That horrible Satanic * if ’ crops up everywhere to hinder what our Lord would do or give. I am so glad you give that ‘if ’ no quarter! ‘If any one will show me chapter and verse for ’ if it lasts,’ I’ll give in; but it isn’t in my Bagster in any shape or form, nor in any other edition that I know of, except Satan’s own privately revised one, from which he quotes. Oh how different from ‘if it lasts’ are God’s own words, ‘He giveth more grace,’ * grace for grace,” from strength to strength,” from glory to glory,” that ye may increase and abound more and more,’ ‘go on unto perfection,’ etc.! If I was not very tired, and if it was not Sunday night, I should want to write a chapter for my new book against that wretched fif it lasts’! which has saddened so many hearts which Christ has not made sad. I dare say I shall to-morrow, God helping me. (See Royal Bounty ‘, chap, ix.)

I send you His last special word to me, ‘The Lord shall open unto thee His good treasure.’ Starting with Eph. iii. 8, and ending never and nowhere, because the ’ riches in glory ’ are everlasting. Just ’ search and see ’ what He is going to ‘open unto thee”! — Your loving friend and sister in Him whom we do love.

DEUT. xxviii. 1 6: ‘The Lord shall open unto thee His good treasure.’

LESSON I. — The Good Treasure — The Unsearchable Riches of Christ (Eph. iii. 8).

I. The Treasure itself. His, not ours, we have nothing, we are ‘poor’ (Rev. iii. 17). Consider the Riches of — i. Goodness; 2. Forbearance; 3. Long-suffering (Rev. ii. 4); 4. Wisdom; 5. Knowledge (Col. ii. 3); 6. Grace (Eph. ii. 7); 7. Glory (Phil. iv. 19), corresponding to our — (i) Sinfulness; (2) Provocations; (3) Repeated waywardness; (4) Foolishness; (5) Ignorance; (6) Spiritual need and weakness; (7) Immortal spirit.

How this treasure is purchased? (2 Cor. viii. 9). For whom? — i. The needy and poor (Rev. iii. 17); 2. See context of Deut. xxviii. 2; 3. Christ’s (i Cor. iii. 21-23).

If Christ’s, then all are yours.

II. The Promise itself, i. Our need of the promise ’ shall open; ’ we cannot open ourselves: it is the Holy Spirit’s office (John xvi. 14, 15). Some of us can bear witness, ‘I was blind, now I see,’ but cannot say Cant. ii. 1 6. Some can say i Pet. ii. 7. Praise Him! 2. The certainty of the promise * shall open.’ Do not say, ‘I hope He will; ’ come boldly and claim. Do not say ‘perhaps’ when He says ‘shall’ (Num. xxiii. 19). Faith is the key to this treasure; God gives it, it fits the lock of any promise. The Lord always responds to the claim of faith. He meets you with Matt. vii. 7. There is always a promise at the back of everything: Expect and watch for the opening of the lock, (i) If opened to you it will never be shut again, ‘He openeth and no, man shutteth ’ (Rev. iii. 7); (2) If opened, you will never ‘come to the bottom — the riches are ‘unsearchable,’ always ’ more and more” incorruptible; ’ now and through eternity, they are ’ the fulness of the Godhead.’ 3. If opened, we shall not care for other things, e.g. as they were opened to St. Paul (Phil. iii. 8). 4. If opened, draw from it, be spiritual millionaires, use it, trade with it, the responsibility is great (i Pet. iv. 10). What will you do with these riches this week?

Dwell on each word ‘THE LORD ’ — no human promiser, but God that cannot lie; ’ shally fling this in

itan’s teeth when tempted to doubt or to be negligent search; ‘openy it is never shut up from you; * unto theey really, personally, not merely to somebody else, or folks in general; ‘Hisy not yours, all his very own, you had no right or claim to it; l goody recollect it is sevenfold, perfection; ‘•Treasure even Jesus Himself, the Treasure of treasures, in all His fulness as your own Saviour, Friend, and King.

LESSON II. — The Good Treasure.

I. His Word. His; the value of the gift is enhanced by the giver. It is Christ’s gift (John xvii. 14), and the Bather’s gift to Him (ver. 8). Treasure; the value is Native and actual. Relative, ‘MORE than gold’ (Ps. xix. 10, cxix. 72, 127). If we really find treasure, we ire glad (Ps. cxix. 162; Jer. xv. 16). A test to apply to ourselves in Ps, i. 2, ’ delight,’ and s in Jer. vi. 10, no delight. If there is no rejoicing in it, the treasure is not yet opened to us; this is the work of the Holy Spirit (John xiv. 26). The answer to the prayer Ps. cxix. 18 is Jer. xxxiii. 3. See Christ’s own double opening, Luke xxiv. 32, 45.

II. Actual The value of the treasure is proved by what it will do for us. ‘Do not My words do good] etc. What good?

1. We are born again by it (i Pet i. 23).

2. Growth thereby (Ps. i. 2, 3) in grace and in knowledge (i Pet. ii. 2; 2 Pet. iii. 18).

3. It gives light (Ps. cxix. 105).

4. It gives understanding.

5. It gives quickening (Ps. cxix. 50, 93).

6. It gives patience (Rom. xv. 4).

7. It gives comfort.

8. It gives hope.

9. It keeps from sin (outward) (Ps. cxix. n).

10. It sanctifies (inward) (John xvii. 17).

11. It is profitable for, etc. (2 Tim. iii. 15, 16).

12. It is able to save your souls (Jas. i. 21).

13. The climax — by these ye become ‘partakers of the divine nature ’ (2 Pet. i. 4).

Faith is the key of this treasure (i Thess. ii. 13); ‘worketh’ all this ‘effectually in you that believe’ (compare Heb. iv. 2: Not mixed with faith ‘).

Isa. Iv. 1 1: ‘My word... shall prosper... whereto I sent it ’ — all this!

III. Responsibility attached to the Treasure. The command is Col. iii. 16 (connect 2 Cor. iv. 7). See the bii

ha promise (Prov. viii. 21), * I will fill their treasures.’ They bring forth out of this good treasure things new and old (Matt. xii. 35, xiii. 52).

February 13, 1877.

... You set the ball rolling; so when a few days ago the editor of a magazine sent an entreaty that I would do him a poem on ( April ’ (very kindly furnishing me with the new idea that its smiles and tears would be a nice theme), I saw in a flash that there was another and very different lesson to be drawn — another fling at the ‘If it lasts >! So if you should see my poem, you will know the origin of the verses!... This morning’s work as been a paper on simply the words, ‘And this is His ommandment ‘! I wonder if you would guess how I ok it? Oh pray still that I may have the King’s own messages to deliver.

(To F. C. Kirchhoffer.y

February 20, 1877.

... My losses and deficiencies this year seemed more than it was possible to replace, especially when one collector after another sent much less than last year. So there was nothing for it but to pray the more; and it is perfectly wonderful how God has been answering. And now your splendid collection is a crown upon many tokens that He has most distinctly heard and answered. It is a little larger than the largest I have ever yet received; and as Miss B. gives me notice, she will have less instead of more on her card. You, as dearest

Julia’s representative, will stand first on my 1877 report. I cannot tell you how glad and pleased I am. Not only because I am so thankful that the great need of the society should be so far supplied, but I am somehow so specially glad that dear Julia’s work should not be among their losses, but that if she is permitted to know anything about it (and why not?), she may see that her little share in her Lord’s work is not only carried on, but increased. I am sure it must have cost you a great deal of effort and trouble to collect so much. But He knows and marks every effort, even the least done for His sake and in His cause.

(29 JB. B. £)

March 21, 1877.

I am intensely sorry to refuse to write an article in aid of a children’s hospital, but it is simply impossible, as I have already undertaken more writing than I can prudently complete before a summer holiday is necessary, and my dear mother absolutely insists on my undertaking not one thing more. I cannot tell you how many similar requests I have. I can only ask our good Master to choose for me, by flashing, as He often does, some strong impulse to write into my mind, seeming then to give me every word, in other cases giving me nothing to say. I hold myself totally at His disposal, and lay each request before Him, to give me a message to write or not, just as He will....

Oh, is it not a happy life, ’ the life of simple trust ‘? One wonders how one lived at all before.

II

68 MII.DMAY PARK. DARLING MOTHER, — Here I am still! I got in a draught at the Association meeting, whereby I got a regular cold. Mrs. Pennefather is the one to be positive, and so I’ve been kept and nursed most delightfully. It is a special satisfaction to have got over the autumn cold which I never do escape before I came home! so that you will not be vexed by seeing me sneeze and cough, and Mrs. P. thinks it is a very good thing it happened so. She does pray for you so beautifully. Well, I do love Mrs. Pennefather. I see that the more one knows her, the more one must love her. The workers’ prayer meeting is going on down-stairs, but she would not let me come — so I am obedient! Thankful you are safe home, and that you are even occasionally a little easier — may He stay His rough wind in the day of His east wind for you, poor dear mother. — Your loving child.

68 MILDMAY PARK, Jime 1877.

DEAR Miss BROWN, — I have been detained here by a sharp influenza cold. So your dear girls’ prayer that I might come again to them is very unexpectedly answered! I am still weak and poorly with a troublesome cough, so that I cannot take the Bible class, but I should be most glad to have a few more words with your dear lassies who came to me in the drawing-room, and dear Mrs. Pennefather seems to be glad I should do so. Did you know they have all written to me? such sweet, touching letters. And I do think the Lord Himself has laid them on my heart, so that I am just longing for the privilege of trying to give them a few helping words — by answering their letters in person, and I have changed my plans on purpose to do so.

And will you ask that our dear Master would give me exactly the right words for them? I do so long for an immense blessing to them, and through them to all the rest of the school. Please give my love to them, and tell them this from me. — Yours affectionately in our dear Master.

July 21, 1877.

I have just come in from church, and two verses in the first lesson have brought to a climax the strong feeling I have had for ten days past that I must write to you. Look at verses 13 and 14 of i Sam. xv., see how Saul says, ‘I have performed the commandment of the Lord.’ And Samuel replies, ‘What meaneth then this bleating of the sheep, and lowing of the oxen which I

hear? ‘Well, now, dear, this time last year you

said, ‘All for Jesus,’ and He gave you a taste or earnest of the gladness of being ’ all ’ for Him, accepting your intention. But where has the fulfilment been of the words which you then said ’ before the Lord ‘? When I

met you at in the winter, in our hurried parting

words I think I must have shown as well as expressed the query weighing on my mind whether it was indeed ’ all for Jesus.’ You told me, * Yes, it is! ’ just as Saul said, ‘I have performed.’ But ’ what meaneth then ’ the straws which seem to show that the wind does not, to say the least, blow unmistakeably from the ’ all ’ quarter? Only straws, and yet they would blow all the same way if it were all! I will tell you one. Just a very casual mention of your going to now, and returning in

time for the September. I know there may be a

hundred fair reasons, but go deeper, which was your real heart in, which was really the thing you most cared for, — coming ’ to the help of the Lord ’ in a special effort to win souls for His honour and glory, or pointers and partridges? O be honest with yourself about the whole thing. It is not a light thing to have told your Master that you will be ’ all ’ for Him, and yet set other things before His obvious service. You have had a year now of professed ‘all,’ but how many trophies have you brought to His feet? How many souls have you even tried to win? Is the harvest, so far, * nothing but leaves ‘? Can Jesus say of you, ‘He hath done what He could ‘? Have you even given as much energy to ’ the help of the Lord against the mighty ’ as you ever gave to rowing or coaching your crew? and if not, are they not solemn words, ‘Curse ye Meroz, saith the Lord, curse ye bitterly the inhabitants thereof.’ Why? Not because they had done anything wrong or even inconsistent, but ’ because they came not to the help of the Lord.’

God says, ‘When thou vowest a vow unto God, defer not to pay it; ... better is it that Thou shouldest not vow, than that thou shouldest vow and not pay.’ You can never unsay that c all for Jesus ’ of your twenty-first birthday. It is registered for ever; it only remains for you to make those words true or untrue. If untrue, then — !...

Understand me, it is not a question of any particular doing or not doing, but a far deeper one; just — have you given a true answer to the question, * How much for Jesus? ‘I do not want you to answer me or tell me anything about it, but I do want you to remember, ‘To his own Master he standeth or falleth,’ and He knows whether your promised service is really whole-hearted or only half-hearted. If the latter, it is not an accepted service. He accepts all or none. There is not one measure for women, and another for young men, ‘My son, give me my heart,’ implies no less to you than to me; the word of our God draws no such distinction, all is ’ all ’ or not ’ all,’ just as much in your case as in mine.

1877.

... Please see if you can find any syllable of mine, written, spoken, or printed, which either states or implies that ‘the infection of sin is or can be wholly eradicated ‘! It is just this supposing that people said or meant what they never did say or mean that has led to thousands being hindered from inquiring into the 1 way of holiness.’ Perhaps the very strongest expression I ever used (if indeed I have used it), would be ’ continuous victory.’ And what does that imply, but a foe that is not annihilated; the very fact of a continual subduing, however complete, proves a continual existence of the foe which is being subdued, and who, without being continually subdued, would be again active and conquering! The ‘On dit, qu’on a dit ’ has been Satan’s fatal hindrance in this matter. I was aghast at being told lately that I had said I had not sinned for three years! ‘Oh, well, I was told so.’ So I investigated, as this was really a serious lie, and the succession of ‘They say, and I supposed you thought the same as they did,’ and ‘I supposed they thought they did not sin,’ perfectly horrified me at the tissue of unintentional false witness borne and manufactured by Christians. I appeal, and so may ’ they ’ appeal to ’ what I have written ’ or even to what they have written.

September 17, 1877.

.. Had I strength and time, I should enjoy telling much, especially of the Lord’s singular dealings with me this summer.

I am here for the baptism of my dearest Miriam’s motherless boy. She died six days after his birth, in the most wonderful peace, so perfect that even leaving the husband she loved so intensely, and her baby, did not cast even a momentary shadow of a shade!... You can imagine what a precious trust the sponsorship to ‘H. C. L. ’ is to me.

... I have had some splendid summer sheaves,

including two, who first gave their own selves to

the* Lord, and then threw law and medicine overboard as their intended professions, and will be, I hope, bright gain to His service in our dear Church of England.

... I am so delighted that you find you can cut off that horrible ‘if and say ‘it lasts’! So I send you

I confidently ‘He giveth more grace ’ — more still, and more always — for you. I am glad you have got hold of 4 shall not stumble.’ I have a paper on that in Royal Bounty or Royal Commandments •, I forget which; both will be out soon now....

You may imagine how all you said of the ’ far better ’ as to your dear harmonized with my thoughts here. And curiously the lovely verse of B. M.’s, which you quote, ‘Praise God, the Shepherd is so sweet, is on the grave of little Maud Prestage, my cousin-godchild, taken not long ago to the fair country.

I am delighted with your testimony as to One Hour with Jesus....

on his twenty-first birthday gave ’ all to Jesus.’

I had worked at him in all possible ways for two or three years, — won at last! Spent more actual ’ labour ’ on him

than almost any individual soul, except, read with

him alone daily for weeks, prayed with him, wrote to him, talked to him, and went on at him generally! ‘Thanks be to God which giveth us the victory ‘!

So delighted to find a few days ago that in Jude 24, ’ from falling,’ is literally * without,’ or from stumbling,’ which, of course, makes the verse much stronger and more explicit, as the Greek usually does. Not even stumbling! isn’t that a perfect keeping?

(To S. G. P.)

September 22, 1877,

I supposed I was obliged to say c Sir,’ because you said ‘Madam ‘! But it went against me to be formal even for once to the writer of Never say Die. I made a raid into Paternoster Row yesterday. I felt puzzled what best to do for N. S. D., so asked the Lord to guide me at the time, and show me His way about it. So, as I wanted to see Mr. M., I went there first, intending to see how the land lay; but he was suddenly gone off to

Rome! So I asked to see Mr. S., and found him so full head and heart, of the Noon-Day Prayer Meeting at Aldersgate Street, which he was just going to conduct, that it did not seem the right time to distract him with my business — he had his Bible open, and was using his last half-hour for preparation. So then I went to P. and asked for Mr. P. himself, and gave him an N. S. D., and told him my views; he asked a lot of questions, — I think he wanted to find whether my opinion was biassed by personal friendship! so I was glad I had not had the pleasure of seeing you!

Perhaps you would hardly guess how very much what you said about My King delighted and encouraged me. I never expected men to read or care for it, — I did not aim higher than girls of whom I have a considerable following. It is far more than I hoped, — for I am not one of those terrible ’ strong-minded women, but I think we have quite ’ rights ’ enough in proportion to our powers and position. And I never thought of reaching men by anything I might write; yet you and others are willing to listen to the little things I have to say, and I take it as an extra token for good — the more pleasant, because unsought and unexpected. I am following it up with two new books (now nearly finished printing), Royal Commandments and Royal Bounty. I am inclined to envy your special gift of heart-words to the very far off — it seems so much more like the Master than mine; but still it is very sweet to be allowed to write for our fellow-servants, which is what I most often seem led to do.

Do not withhold your name. Your father is so well known that the mention excites interest directly. And if the Master should lead you on further in this path (and I think He will), it is for several reasons better to give your name at once and start fair with it. Is it not a sort of little offering to Him of that which is already His own? For our names are His, and why should He not have the use of them?

(To Margaret W.)

I don’t fancy somehow that I shall ever be quite so strong as I was, nor able for just the same as other people. I did think that I might have been even stronger, but now I think that is not likely; so the 1 pleasing perfectly ’ will have to be rather my aim than the ( serving much,’ i.e. l till my change come ’ — then I ‘shall serve Him’ — and won’t it be delicious? (Ezek. xliv. 15, 1 6). 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.’

Did you ever think that our Lord must have had a great deal of such refraining from what He would have done? It must have been very hard not to make greater displays of His love and power; for surely, if that had been His Father’s will, He could just as easily have done His personal work and ministration on a far larger scale, even during the last three years, much more during the thirty years of such closely- veiled glory.

October 1877.

Dear M., will you pray for me, that I may have ’ the patience of Jesus Christ,’ however long this lasts, and that He would graciously help me over what must be a very weary and probably suffering journey? I will enclose you some verses, which came to me on the words, * ONL Y for Jesus’ Make the printer put the very biggest and fiercest ONLY he can! People will emphasize any word but that in their lives, and it is just being ‘Only for Jesus ’ that make all the difference. They are ready enough to emphasize ‘Jesus,’ if they may only drop the severe, uncompromising ‘Only ’ into the shade. Do you see?

ONLY for Jesus! Lord, keep it for ever

Sealed on the heart and engraved on the life!

Pulse of all gladness, and nerve of endeavour, Secret of rest, and the strength of our strife!

I have enclosed a parcel for you. It is a present which you won’t care twopence for at present, so you needn’t profess to! But I believe you will care for it if, please God, this time ten years or so, you are bringing forth out of His treasure things new and old for some flock committed to you. It is a set of Goodwin’s Works — one of the grandest and oldest of the 17th century writers — much too deep and solid for modern taste, but full of Christ and of ’ the deep things of God.’ Some day if you are going to preach out of Ephesians, you will find, I should think, everything that could be said on every single word of the first, and part of the second chapter. He is called ’ that peerless divine, and star of the first magnitude ‘!

November 15, 1877.

If I wait till I can write you a long letter, I may never write at all! so I will just send you a few lines, chiefly to tell you how glad your letter made me. For I think I see in it that Jesus is more of a reality to you than before. And after all, it all hinges on that; it is the old question, ‘What think ye of Christ? ‘Is He nothing, or something, or everything1! It is a help to pull oneself up with plain questions now and then.

I had a really beautiful letter from lately; I

think he will get less reserved by being at College. What I most want to hear of you is that God has given you the great joy of winning some soul for Christ. When once you have had that, you will never rest without more, I think. It is like a tiger tasting blood! I am so very glad you have had an opportunity of seeing an ordination. May every day be preparing you for your own solemn vows. I have got lots of new C. P. members. How beautiful the estimate of Christ in our chapter this morning is! ‘Chiefest ‘! Link it with Phil. iii. 8-10.

(To M.J. W.)

November £, 1877.

I hope you will not mind my not fulfilling your request to write an answer to the letters you send me from Plymouth sisters. The fact is, I am so utterly startled and entirely shocked at them, that I cannot think it worth while to write seriatim. The cool ignoring of the clearest Bible commands and teaching, the un-gospel spirit of judging, condemning, and want of the gentle charity which should be learnt at the Master’s feet, are to me most saddening. I do not mean so much of the writers personally, but of the principles they lay down, and the inevitable results of following out those principles. From a merely critical and intellectual point of view, I see it would be waste of time to argue as a mind which can in all good faith base its arguments and build its conclusions on the merest assumptions, and never even see that it is doing so, must be left to its own inverted pyramids!

If the writer of the three-sheet letter had but spent the same energy on seeking to set forth Jesus and His salvation to some one who does not know His preciousness, as she has spent on trying to unsettle one who does know Him, surely it would have been much more like the Master’s own work! Instead of writing, I can only pray that she may be delivered from what her letter additionally convinces me is one of the special devices of the enemy for hindering the Lord’s real work and the real unity of the Spirit, It is ’ strong delusion,’ and God grant that deeper searching of His word with the light of His Spirit in the clear atmosphere of greater humility, may show her that it is so.

1877.

A very strong light has come to me about this almanack! Do you not believe that remarkable coincidences are not chance, but God’s leading? I need not tell you I do! Well then, was it not striking that you should have been troubled about these opinions, and that immediately after I should have been led to suggest what may and will (probably) at least help to keep others from being unsettled, 2 and 2 make 4!

I believe we are punished for a sort of half-cowardly shrinking from acting up to our own light, and fearing to tell others frankly what we believe to be the more excellent way. How many young Christians might be saved from drifting off to the P. B. S. if Church members were not so dreadfully afraid of showing their colours! So far as I am aware, my father never through all his ministry had any one single member of of his flock go off to them, nor even nibble at it, because he never shrank from showing them why we should value our Church. And yet he never had the least trouble with dissenters; they always cordially respected him and understood him, far more so than many who were less loyal to their Church principles.

December 14, 1877. — Pray for me, darling E., for I am passing through some of the strangest as well as the keenest trials I ever had, which is saying a good deal!

OAKHAMPTON, January 31, 1878.

I determined I would ’ never say die ’ till somebody published your book, and also that I would not write to you till I could tell you I had succeeded about it!

Now it is your turn to act, and I hope you will find time to set to work immediately, and put the whole into shape, i.e. into short chapters, and short paragraphs, and short sentences. And if you can invent lively little titles for each chapter, so much the better, and the queerer the better.

I have never thanked you for the exquisite card, quite a treasure — it is so totally uncommon, and the colouring so rich. I am busy trying to get all or most of a new book (into which I am putting my very heart), done during a very restful and quiet visit here, while my sister relieves guard at Leamington — so I have not time for a proper letter.

A beautiful photograph hangs close by the drawing-room piano here, and I look at it while I sing; but it never occurred to me to ask whose it was till a few minutes ago. ‘Ah,’ says my sister, ’ that’s a photograph of a picture of St. Ouen by your friend, S. G. Prout! ’

(To G. S. P.)

OAKHAMPTON, February 8, 1878.

The ‘Grey Raven ’ must allow me the privilege of a little contribution towards the ’ bread and flesh.’ If only you had not written such very awful Sanskrit, I should have shown your letter right and left! but nobody could be expected to read it second-hand! I wish you would send that story of the poor hungry woman to the Times, not touched up a bit, but just as you wrote it to me. Who could resist it? It is terribly bad taste to quote oneself, but I cannot help it this time, so you must forgive; but thinking of your present work, the lines kept humming in my head —

* The King will stoop to crown it
With His gracious Inasmuch.’
T

Of course, I read Down the Steep — you have something of the poet in you (as well as of pretty nearly everything else, it seems!), but I was not so personally struck with it as with N. S. D. But it is a poem and not mere rhyme. Will the specimen page of N. S, D. do? You might give your mind sufficiently to say yes or no to that!

And don’t, oh don’t, write Sanskrit to, or he will

send me your letter to decipher, and I shall have to write it out for him.

My new book is The Royal Invitation — distinctly and entirely for outsiders; I have long wanted to have a full fair shot at those who are not the King’s children. Can you spare two minutes to pray that I may have special help in this?

Believe me, there is real spiritual power in what you have written; as I glanced over your specimen page I felt inclined to envy you, — it throbs with life and warm reality. Oh, may you have the joy of bringing the living water to thousands by it! And then, as I share in praying for this, I shall have a share in the praise for it! It is a good investment, I consider! So you might put a little prayer about that — please do! I do not feel sure of their accepting it, because so few will sing such very ’ out and out ’ words, unless Sankey had first taken it up.

is lingering just ’ outside the door.’ I have given

him as strong personal pulls as I know how, but he is not inside yet.

I mean your book to ‘go;’ I have got a large Scotch bookseller to start Never say Die, and I promise you a start in Dublin too. Wonder what else the Lord is preparing you to do by keeping you in the shadow.

I do so feel for your dear sister.

(To Leonard Bickers faff.)

February 7, 1878.

I have a request to you, for which yours to me gives opportunity. Will you take it up as a little bit of special praying work during the next few days? I have written twenty-two chapters of my new book, The Royal Invitation; or, Daily Thoughts on coming to Christ, and I do long for very special help for the nine chapters which remain to be written. I want the Lord to give me every word, and not let me write a word without Him, nor a sentence that is not a message from Him. I do so want to win those who have never yet come to Jesus. Will you ask this for me every day till about next Thursday, by which day I shall about finish, please God.

Why not join both the Scripture - reading Unions? Ever so many are members of both. Both are good solid bread, but I prefer the whole loaf to the half one, both for myself, and more especially for the sake of the many whom I thus induce to read twice a day, who otherwise would read only once. I have often said to others, ‘Join Mr. Richardson’s Union for the sake of your personal friends, but join Mr. Boys’ for the sake of work among others.’ The one chapter a day is a pleasant link, but the two chapters are a lever to raise those who need raising to fuller feeding on the Word. I myself have joined both. — Yours affectionately in our dear Master.

February 14, 1878.

The twelve o’clock prayer to-day was commuted into thanksgiving for completed work; so I write at once to tell you that the good Lord has given it me all, and fully answered the prayer that it might be done without difficulty or strain. I have now merely to put it straight for the press, fill in the references, and send it off. But the last sentence is written! I shall write no preface; the title is, The Royal Invitation; or, Daily Thoughts on Coming to Christ, and I prefer leaving it to the reader to find out who I am aiming at.

I shall next see about a re-cast of the Ministry of Song, and Under the Surface for one volume, Life Mosaic. This will be an opportunity of dropping out a dozen or two of the weakest pieces, and I must ask clear guidance to do this judiciously. Next, I want to arrange Daily Melodies for the King’s Minstrels. I am reserving MS. poems for a still future book.

Wish I knew, Marie dear, if you are sacrificing yourself very much for me. You tell me when I had better propose to return home. I do feel most grateful to you, and certainly I am in greatest possible clover of quiet and luxury at Oakhampton. I have not had such rest since the farmhouse at the Highlands (Herefordshire). Please order Spanish Brothers for a present; it is a book I much admire.

1878.

Tell Mr. Shaw, Parlane sent me some time ago a letter from the widow of good Duncan Matheson. He had owed P. about £20 for printing his hymn-book. Mrs. Matheson paid it, and Parlane generously returned the whole to her. She says: ‘When you sent the account, it came the day after my beloved husband died. You enclosed a leaflet by F. R. H., the text at the heading was, “My God shall supply all your need,” and the last line of each verse was, “God shall all your need supply.” I cannot tell you the blessing I got in reading it, and each day it has been in my mind, and I have felt its sweetness, and now your returning the money is another proof of His faithfulness, I am so glad I had thus unwittingly the privilege of comforting Duncan Matheson’s widow.

(To F.T.H.)

The letter you delayed was not of any consequence, only one of the usual gushing sort; thanks for my writings, which seem spreading in America very fast. They reprint my books there with no reference whatever to me or Nisbet! Yes, dear Frank, I often feel how I need counterbalancing trials (of which, in more ways than one, I have had more than you know of) with all this singular success. I do want all my work, to be purely and only for our dear Master, and not to work even for work’s sake, much less as pleasing men or myself. But it is very curious that the very amount of expressions of pleasure, gratitude, etc., which I get, deadens their effect, just like opium! You see when one gets half-a-dozen a day at least of such letters as would have elated me for a week a few years ago, they come to be almost a bore! and really I have to watch against the opposite temptation not to be grateful for all this — not to think enough of it. However, I certainly was extra gratified by your telling me that the good Bishop of Hereford cared for anything I wrote, and placed the card on the mantelshelf. (‘No rose without a thorn.’)

And I was much more grateful, dear Frank, for your thoughtful and brotherly words of warning, than I am for several dozen of the gushing letters I get!

I have several times thought I should like to buy your harp-piano — it would be at times of very great use to me for composing in my own room without being overheard, the consciousness of which I am foolishly sensitive about, and never can compose if any one is in the house! But just now I could neither pay for it nor use it, lest it might disturb dear mother. She is far worse than when you were here, Nurse says so — not that there is any immediate danger, but that she is worse is evident.

May 13, 1878.

My poor mother is very ill, the end may be very near. It is an exceptionally distressing and trying illness in all respects — God has had many special lessons to teach us by it, and ’ who teacheth like Him? ‘Pray for us, dear friend.

I don’t suppose I ever sent you Such a Blessing. I cannot but see what I have seen, and do see. And if ’ all ’ in i John i. 7 does not mean ’ all,’ how much does it mean? and if ’ cleanseth ’ only means ’ cleansed me when I said my prayers last night,’ what force is there in tenses? And I know that such a blessing is to be had, and that life is a different thing then. And I know that it is not perfection, nor perfectionism, because if it were, I should not need and desire and claim that wonderful perpetual present tense — ’ goes on cleansing; I cannot do without the precious blood of Jesus one hour or one moment.

Many thanks for your sermon, it is so nice; I am going to send it on to the Baroness; I know she will like it.

(To E. T.)

May 26, 8 A.M.

A line to ask you all to pray that if it is His will, He would, in very pity, release our poor unconscious sufferer. My sister, who professes to be able to stand anything, broke down a few hours ago after so many days’ incessant watching with our good nurse Carveley. Again, all yesterday, we were watching, expecting every breath to be the last, and the whole night as three times before has been one long struggle. Poor mother is still unconscious — it is most distressing. I want you to ask for me that I may be enabled to trust quietly about my sister, that is the greatest strain upon my trust, knowing by previous experience the results of overstrain, but I did not think she would break down now; I have been entreating Him not to let me quiver about this, and am so thankful for, ‘I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not.’

TO NURSE CARVELEY.

I have no photograph to give,

And so I do not ask for yours;
But I’ve a picture that will live

As long as memory endures.
The faithful word, the pleasant face,

The skilful hand, the watchful eye,
The ’ sunshine in a shady place,’ —

This photograph will never die!

May 29, 1878, (F. R. H.’s tribute to the nurse of her stepmother C. A. H.)

(Post Card.y

May 31, 1878.

Our poor sufferer entered into rest on Sunday afternoon. The last fortnight has been trying and distressing beyond anything I ever heard of, let alone saw. Eight days and nights of literal dying and every distressing concomitant imaginable. God has been answering my eager prayer for more teaching, by ’ terrible things,’ according to Ps. lxv. 5. But it is over now, and my text for to-day is, ‘He hath done all things well.’ I see it as clear as daylight.

I am so thankful that my poor mother’s last smile, a startlingly bright and sudden one, after weeks without a smile, was turned on me fully and consciously.

(To.)

Jime 1878.

I quite agree with you in preferring the exact Scripture in Isa. liii. 6, although I have no doubt ’ us all ’ means ‘the Church of God.’ I should not myself have so paraphrased it, but as I was quoting Rainsford, I thought I must keep to him. Had it been a new MSS., I might have asked him to alter it.

But I do not agree with you in giving verse 24 instead of 22 of Gen. v. I expect it never struck you what it implies. ‘Enoch walked with God, is usually quoted from verse 24, and therefore kept in connection with, ’ and was not, for God took him,’ as if walking with God were rather an older-aged experience, approaching the end. But do not you see how telling it is to take it in the other connection? * Enoch walked with God three hundred years! ’ nobody quotes that! and if he walked with God three hundred years, may not we walk with Him ’ all the days of our life ‘? It was Mr. Snepp who showed it me, and I thought it such a find. It is but the difference between the dismal must be always sinning, teaching, and the brighter hopes I laid hold of, but which are an old story to you.

By the bye, it is * Christ our example of trust, not truth,’ that has long been a favourite thought to me, and I was glad to see Rainsford bring it out. I think we get Christ as our example of three things in John xvii. — i. Of coming to the Father; 2. Trust; and 3. Consecration.

Many thanks for calling my attention to ’ having no part dark.’

I have never dived into its meaning, but am greatly struck with it now you mention it.

(To.)

July 25, 1878.

Here is your programme. Saturday ’ do ‘Gloucester, reaching Worcester in the evening. N.B. — Sit on the left, for view of Malvern. Stay Sunday at Worcester; hear cathedral bells, about the finest peal in England; twelve bells, No. 10. is exceptionally rich. The only clergyman I know is Rev. W. Wright, of St. Peter’s, Evangelical. At cathedral, ask to see my father’s memorial brass (designed by brother Frank) in an arcade of the south-east transept. St. Nicholas was his own church: a marble tablet to my sweet mother (Jane Havergal, died July 5, 1848), and a memorial brass to my father, are in the chancel.

On Monday, leave by earliest train for Bewdley station; in approaching Bewdley, sit on the left, and you will see Winterdyne, — a large white house alone among trees on the height of the ridge of rocks above the Severn. Then walk up to Winterdyne, where you are invited to breakfast, and will be welcomed for the Master’s sake. You will get there a little before nine — just between prayers and breakfast. Mr. Shaw, my dear brother-in-law, will show you his beautiful grounds, and you will see how Bank holiday is improved there! If possible, Mr. S. will drive you on to my sister’s, Mrs. Crane, Oakhampton; but it is a heavily-engaged day, and I have told them that on emergency you can walk the four miles. Mrs. C. invites you to dinner, and to stay the night. Then I will take you leisurely to Astley churchyard in the evening. If you cannot stay all night, Mr. C.’s carriage can drive us to the churchyard, and then drive you on, say half-way, to Worcester in the cool of the evening.

I hope it will be a fine day, and if it is, I shall be very glad to have been able to do you a small ’ good turn ’ after the very good turn you have done me.

(To the same.)

OAKHAMPTON, Monday A.M.

The coachman is to take you round by Ribbesford Church (unless you have already been there this A.M.) — look at the singular nth century carving over the porch, — an old Saxon legend. I hope the rain will cease.

There are some visitors at W., whose relatives are very ’ high ’ and rather prejudiced; tell them you have been to Jerusalem, and hope to go to Gaza, or anything in that line, and perhaps after you are gone, I may tell them you are a Wesleyan after all! that they may see some good can come out of Nazareth!

At Winterdyne there is no treading on eggs, — a real, wide, hearty ’ grace be with all them that love our Lord Jesus Christ,’ even as I say it!

[F. R. H.’s correspondent says: ‘This little note was neatly done up with her peculiar beauty as she wrote it in the early morning at Oakhampton, and drove over herself with it to Winterdyne, and put it into my hand. And on the afternoon of that day, F. R. H. drove with me to Astley churchyard, and showed me her father’s grave (now her own) — that time will always live in my memory, in whatever part of the world my lot may be.’l

August 8, 1878.

Mr. L. came Monday, was delighted and grateful — writes that l if you did not build the Palace Beautiful, at least you showed it to the Pilgrim, and once more he thanks you for pleasure which grows with keeping.’ Neat! Results of my going to W. to fetch him was that Ellen saw with me how papa’s parish was being cared for, and his own grandsons left out in the cold! W and A. came the same afternoon to fetch their cousins, and the upshot is, they stay till Saturday, and are at the tent every night! I had the waggonette, and took the servants last night — capital — tent nearly full — probably 500 — but shoals were listening in the dark outside! The evangelist Cauker, very nice on Isa. lix. 2, on ’ separated,’ but now ’ put away.’ Giles got up after, and spoke for two minutes most beautifully — set to his seal — told of his own experience — * God says it — I believe it — that’s enough for me! ‘Then Thomas Wales, from the Evangelization Society, on ‘The Master is come and calleth for thee.’ I never heard such an enormous voice — can be heard on the bridge just as well as in the tent, and all up Load Street — a man one instinctively honours and loves on the spot for the Master’s sake. I took the harmonium — Frances was quite leading the singing — good thing for younger ones to be thrown on their own resources — * put out to swim! ‘Alice so sweet and hearty, and in it all. W. and A. had been canvassing Sandy Bank and Wyre Hill all the morning! and had the management of seats, hymn-books, tent ropes, etc. Twins at it too. Nellie looked radiant! Well she might, all her children heart and soul in such work, and with her nephews too!

1878.

I must not refuse my friend’s entreaty to send the enclosed request on to you. The letter will explain itself. Many, many thanks for prayer for -. Well, now I think you may praise! I have had no chance of gauging the work myself, and do not know why I am not feeling so confidently exultant as I might be over the account of them. I do not know whether it is only want of faith by looking on to all the ritualistic hindrances which they are returning into, and which must choke the Word except by most special grace, — or whether it is that the work is less deep than the - ’s hope. Anyhow, it is no small thing to thank God for that they have had that week, and have intelligently heard the truth as it is in Jesus, and have most certainly and evidently liked it, if no more!

Now I am with -. They are exemplary to a degree, but I saw collision must come, and it came an hour ago. We were singing that hymn, —

* Christian, dost thou see them
On the holy ground?

Smite them by the virtue
Of thy Lenten fast! ’

Whereupon of course I ’ struck ‘! stopped, and would not sing it, and said, ‘No, no! — no victory that way — they overcame by the blood of the Lamb,’ and so forth. Whereupon they argued and opposed very courteously, but very determinately. So you see the sort of work I now have — much more difficult than if they were not so wrapped up in their blameless conduct and fasts and efforts. Do pray for them. Oh, if my visit here might but be a blessing! I am so tired that I do not feel as if I had my usual energy, or could rise to the work.

(To.)

Not a drop of any special blessing here till to-day, and now — who, though converted, has often caused me anxiety from lack of consecration, has given herself over wholly (with her fine voice and musical talent). A real blessing — but when the ice once thus breaks, it is seldom

only for one — and I am intensely longing for to

be touched. Somehow I have watched in vain as yet, never can catch him alone, and conversation in the presence of others is no use. I have just been praying for him with two of the others. I leave on Tuesday, so time is shortening — not even a beginning made yet — oh, if God would but call him and rouse him. So the

one who is rejoicing to-day is great gain, but is

out in the cold. To-day’s blessing makes me treble my fervour for him. Jesus has passed by to-day, and surely He will be gracious to one more? I got hold of a most interesting case at a garden party two days ago (where I had a series of bits of direct work all the time), and am just off to get another interview with her by her own wish. But oh for my bright lad!

They have dessert here on Sunday afternoon, after

they return from Sunday-school teaching; so took

the opportunity of calling for order! ’ and took me by surprise by making a regular little speech in the name of his brothers and sisters — so very prettily done, thanks and gratitude, etc., and affectionate welcome and thankfulness to have me with them at last. You cannot think how nicely he did it, and of course it was vehemently applauded, and there was a general uproar of affectionate fuss!

(To Margaret IV.)

August 15, 1878.

I can’t possibly advise now, — being no longer on the pot. ‘His Name shall be called, Counsellor.’

I have just sent off my Almanack to Mr. Bullock, — subject for this year is ‘The Words of our Lord Jesus Christ ’ (i Tim. vi. 5); 365 texts spoken by His own ‘gracious’ lips — somehow I do think this will have power and be much blessed. I have grouped into a little piece (for insertion) the texts which show why He spoke them, and what we may expect from the daily feeding on this fruit of His lips. Edith and I both think it would be so nice if the future Reports contained a blank page headed * Questions,’ especially if it is to be more especially an ‘Isolated Members’ Branch.’ Many would insert a ‘question,’ who would not venture on a ‘remark,’ and these would elicit answers. Just as the ‘Corner for Difficulties ’ is to me usually the most interesting part of Woman’s Work, Put a little word about it to begin with — inviting members to ask any ’ question ’ which occurs to them in the course of studying the subject. Edith is eager for this, and thinks she would always have a ‘question,’ though she could not venture on a ’ remark ‘! Do try it. I think it would be a practically valuable feature of the new series.

Does not your brother want old gold and silver for his tabernacle things? I enclose two bits to throw in, if so. I found them in clearing out. I have shipped off all my jewellery to the C. M. S., chain and all, so of course I never enjoyed packing a box so much. Fifty-three articles! But I have reserved my portrait brooch of dear Papa for daily wear, and Evelyn’s portrait locket. I really only want one brooch.

(To the late Miss Esther Beamish.y

MUMBLES, 1878.

It seems like standing afar off, beholding with solemn and fresh sense of the reality of the things unseen, as you tell me of this strange ’ trial.’ No, I never had that sort of sifting, — it seems to me, however, all a token for good. First, that it is a case of ‘The strong He’ll strongly try.’ Such honour have not all His saints. Satan allowed to try His hardest, and defeated! Then surely it is a prelude to special blessing of some sort. When the devil has had his turn, then I think Jesus is sure to have

His! He does not speak to me like He does to;

yet I think it is from Him that words have kept coming to me about it, ‘He shall appear to your joy.’ Then in connection with this comes i Pet. i. 7, taking the appearing as a present one. Just think of this trial of your faith being precious to Jesus, dear friend; for of course it means what it says. I know sadly plenty about times when I cannot pray, but do not get the fiery darts you tell of; I expect it is that Satan thinks I am not worth them, and God knows I am too weak to stand them; for oh, if you only knew how really far behind I am — my feeling always is that I can hardly keep you

and in sight at all! I ought to be much further on

with all the discipline I have had.

I could not write to you this A.M. somehow, and now it’s late, and Maria will be anxious if she hears the type-writer going, so I finish this in pencil i

Thanks for Lord Radstock’s speech, which is very interesting. But I cannot think the Lord would have made such wonderful provision of medicine and means for our use, if He did not both intend and sanction the use of them. And I do not see in the least why there may not be just as perfect and God -honouring trust while accepting and using them as His means, and doctors as His exponents of means, as when refusing them. It is a dangerous principle to admit, or at once it may be followed by queries as to using means of grace! as the same arguments or seeming arguments apply to that.

THE MUMBLES, October 7, 1878.

Oh M., it is such gracious leading to have been guided here, just the place! Maria has been so ill nearly all the time in Switzerland, and looks fearfully bad — it will be a long time ere she regains tone and sleep, etc.; she has never had what other folks would call sleep since

u that terrible time in May. So thankful to be here. I am very tired — could not have gone on much longer visiting — am weary to death of lionessing! Yet have had no end to be thankful for — only so overdone. I hardly ever had a text more sweetly and powerfully given me than Ex. xv. 13 on Sunday week. Hope Association affairs all subsided and settled. We are in the midst of carpets and curtains and suchlike gear — settling in takes tune and strength! I suppose I shall get rested some time! Anyhow, there is heaven to come!

MUMBLES, October 1878.

... I must send a line to tell you I have had a very happy time. The Lord ‘dealt wondrously,’ and

caused to throw herself (metaphorically) right

into my arms, not waiting for me to open fire! Conscious that the Lord has given me something which she, as )*et, has not got and is groping for. Of course I did not mince matters — full consecration is the point How many know and love Jesus, and yet are not ’ all ’ and ’ only ’ for Him, and they cannot see that He is able to keep them from stumbling, so the goal is not reached.

I do think we Church of England are more conscientious about Sunday post than Nonconformists generally.

Those excellent had their letters, to my grief, on

Sunday. So I was delighted in another house to see a notice on the post box in the hall, with the post times, and ‘No delivery or despatch on Sundays.’ c No manner of work ’ must include postal delivery, and it is not right to ignore God’s commands.

I have met ‘B. M. ‘! Never felt more interested in any one yet, and never met any one yet who just knew and understood all my special mental and poetic experiences in thinking and writing; and as she is the only real poetess I ever met, I am beginning to fancy I must be a bit of one too.

(To G. S. P.)

October 10, 1878.

* All right ’ did not include the picture — that arrived two days ago, to my great delight; it was just in time for it to be rightly placed: I was just going to arrange my pictures. My especial favourite is a large engraving of ‘The Martyrs in Prison: Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, and Bradford,’ — a saintly picture linked with my earliest good memories, and it was my father’s: so this is centre of the best piece of wall in my little study. Your Spanish prison view hangs most curiously appropriate on one side of it, so you could not be in better company.

As to Never say Die,1 I do not much wonder you shirked it! for a more puzzling little editorial work I never undertook! I cannot decide till I have gone twice through at least, how to chapterize it! But, dear friend, time spent on it is overpaid, — it brings to me all the sweetness and freshness of the old, old story as nothing else ever did; I keep reading it all for myself.

Two or three evenings ago my sister Maria and I went out to see a superb sunset just beginning. I gave her N. s. D. just before, and she had it in her hand. In 1 Never say Die. S. G. P. Nisbet & Co.

about half an hour I came back, having gone a little way on — the sunset was over, and she had forgotten all about it, never saw it at all! She is so peculiarly alive to natural beauty, that I could not have believed any book could have so ’ riveted ’ her, as she herself said. I am glad she so endorses my deliberate convictions, for she is very independent as well as decided in her judgment; and she has far more experience than I have among poor people, so it is worth a good deal. We agree that it is exceptional, and in fact unique, and that we know nothing in the evangelistic line to equal it. When I have done putting it straight for press, I will write again, and shall also tell Nisbet what M. says! A good proof of her sincerity as to its real value as work for God is, that she is ready to anathematize anybody and everybody who gives me anything to do at present, and wants me to send everybody’s else little requests straight back with a refusing P.C., but is ‘quite agreeable’ to my giving my mind to N. s. D.

Yes, I do trust that you may have, or rather that the Master may have, a very harvest of souls from its circulation.

(To the late C. H. Purday.y

THE MUMBLES, October 14, 1878.

Your note has touched and interested me most deeply. ‘Heart answereth to heart.’ I do trust that ere now you are still further on the way to recovery. Yet there is, I know, so much real blessing in the touch of our Lord’s hand, even when we have to say, ‘Thy hand presseth me sore,’ that somehow, ever since a very long and suffering illness of my own, I have hardly been able to say sincerely to any really Christian friend, ‘I am sorry you have been ill.’ And the ’ afterward ’ is surely promised. Every time of calling apart leads us to know and understand a little better ‘Him with whom we have to do.’ How much these words imply!...

I am so glad you like my Royal Commandments though I should not have expected you to like it so well as Royal Bounty. Mr. Snepp is charmed with your tune to ‘Yes, He knows the way is dreary,’ and would be very glad to include it in his new edition.

Possibly the enclosed tiny books may give you some pleasant thought — I shall be so thankful if they do. (Precious Things, and I also for Thee.y

(To the same.y

MUMBLES, October 30, 1878.

... T am so glad to hear you are raised up again. It is curious that in the night I was thinking so much of the promise, ‘Thou shalt glorify Me,’ specially in its connection as following deliverance from trouble (Ps. 1. 15). And then your letter came in the morning, speaking of your desire to do something for His glory! Whatever He has promised, surely we may and should claim and expect, however much better and greater it may be than we should have thought of asking. Oh yes, if one may but do anything for Him ’ who loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood,’ it is worth coming back from the very golden gates to do it. If He has made us for His glory He will surely ‘be glorified in us.’ That He will even now and there is 2 Thess. i. 10 to come! It is so wonderful.

(To.)

December 19, 1878.

... Yes, I have noticed the text you send; it is most solemn and striking. But because I happen to have got this one, please do not hesitate always to tell me of any that strike you as ‘finds ’ — I am always glad and grateful to have a share in the spoils of others, and sometimes even, when not new to me, it brings a text with new force or freshness. Christians might help each other in this way far more than they do.

I must send a line to say how delighted I am that the Church Missionary Society has taken up the Gaza Mission, which I had already heard of. You need not trust (!) ‘that it will be faithful and do the work in the proper way!’ You may just rejoice that it will! If there is faithfulness and soundness to be had in the Church on earth at all, it is in the C. M. S. — the grandest and most uncompromising of all evangelical societies — except that one may bracket the Bible Society with it. Not one touch of any evil leaven has been permitted by God’s great mercy to enter it from any side. Just go, and you will find all I have said true, and you will be under the best and safest auspices any human organization can furnish. God speed you!

(To the late C. H. Purday.)

December 30, 1878.

I have been on the shelf, or should have replied sooner. And now the few days’ illness has thrown me all behind with letters and work, so pardon haste. The only tune I do not like, and cannot possibly sanction, in your Songs of Peace and Joy is the setting of my Consecration hymn, ‘Take my life,’ to that wearisomely hackneyed kyrie of Mozart. It does not suit the words either, and I was much vexed with Mr. Mountain for printing it with it in his Hymns of Consecration and it would just spoil your book to let it pass. I particularly wish that hymn kept to my dear father’s sweet little tune, ‘Patmos,’ which suits it perfectly. So please substitute that, and your book will be the gainer. You have rather taken the wind out of my own sails by your book, as Hutchings & Romer have for a good while wanted me to set Loyal Responses to music (now published by them) but I have so many irons in the fire, that I can barely find time to heat a musical one. However, I could not find it in my heart to hinder you in your wish, with which my whole heart sympathizes, to do this thing for God’s glory. I do so very much like many of your tunes.

‘Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God.’ Dear friend, why say, May that peace be mine,’ when it is yours already, purchased for you, made for you, sealed for you, pledged to you — by the word of the Father and the ’ precious blood of Jesus ‘! Forgive me for touching up your words, but I have recalled them so many times since you wrote. (7 7, 7 7-)

PATMOS.

Rev. W. H. HAVERGAL.
I

Take my life, and let it be Con - se - crat ed, Lord, to Thee;

Take my mo-ments and my days, Let them flow in cease-less praise. A - men.

(To M. V. G. JZ)

THE PARAGON, BLACKHEATH,
February 7, 1879.

Send by return of post our dear father’s words, ‘God save our widowed Queen,’ which he arranged in the minor key. Mr. Bullock is bringing out a capital little book about our Royal Family, and would like to insert it.

I have been photographed! Mr. Elliot himself came for me, Saturday, and they tried eight times, and hope one will do! Elliot and Fry both superintended in person; such a fuss! And I forgot to put on tidy frill and cuffs!

I hope you and Ellen will not go saving the fur things I send — will disappoint me entirely if you don’t wear them for garden. (Memorandum. — My sister F. had intended buying a sealskin jacket for herself, instead of which she bought these fur cloaks for her sisters!)

Mr. and Mrs. Bullock ever so kind and pleased to have me here — she is such a nice friend.

February 12.

Will Miriam undertake to write out some biographical notice of our dear father for the Dictionary of Musicians? You see I have barely three months to do my new books for next season, and cannot do the odds and ends that pour in.

Interesting lecture last night by the Rev. H. Lansdell on a Bible- scattering scamper to Archangel, etc. 25,000 ’ portions ’ and tracts given! Proceeds of lecture to Irish Church Missions.

I called at the Church Missionary House — Mr.
Eugene Stock most delightful!

Glad I have had the opportunity of making friends personally with my publishers. Dear Mr. Watson is still so ill, but he came down in the evening and seemed cheered with talk and music, asking me to play again Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata for Mr. Robertson. Mr. Watson is almost, if not quite, as heavenly as Giles! His prayers most beautiful, and lovely grace before meat. He will not live long, I am sure, so feeble and so ripe. He gives me plenty of good advice — I do love him, he is so fatherly. His partner, Mr. Robertson, a pleasant Christian — much younger and very energetic. I think he took a liking to me, which is important, as I may have all book business to do with him in future years.

Mr. Hutchings was quite struck with ‘Loving all along’ (G. S. P.y. Dr. Waugh accepts his verses for (The Sunday Magazine) * Abercane,’ and calls it ‘splendid poetry.’ Mr. Watson read them out one night magnificently!

(To M. V. G. H.)

CHARING CROSS HOTEL,
February 17, 1879.

Singular and sad instance of not knowing what a day may bring forth! Case of small-pox, and poor dear Mr. B. so overwhelmed. Doctor ordered the house cleared at once. I saw my way in an instant — not right to go to any friend’s house, and so shall give up my invitation to Mr. S. Blackwood’s. It seemed horrid to come away from the dear B.’s in their trouble, but I could do no good; and though I have not a vestige of fear of infection, they were eager to see me safe out of it. So I had fire in a cosy little room here all the afternoon, and quiet rest, as I could not venture out to church, my cough teazing me. You see this involved only one bit of Sunday travelling, and I leave direct for Mumbles by express this, Monday, morning.

Tell dear Giles and Ellen they need not be afraid of my putting my neck into any nooses. I am much too snug at the Mumbles!

(ToM. V. G.H.)

MUMBLES, February 18, 1879.

It was quite delightful getting in here last evening (from my sudden flight from London and change of plans), although you had not returned. It felt so really coming home, and I had such a comfortable journey. Mary helped me unpack, and it was delicious to be all straight the same night. Oh, the sunshine here! hot and brilliant in my study. Such a pile of letters this A.M., only one worth sending on for you to answer. Mr. Shaw will be amused with dear Mr. Wright’s explanation, which of course I answer. When I called at the Church Missionary House, I thought him kind, but a little bit stiffer than I expected; so his not knowing who I was, explains it. I had no idea he did not know me, but it seems he did not catch the name from Mr. Eugene Stock, and as he says, ‘We are not in heaven yet! J

Elliot & Fry will send you proofs of my photos. Remember nothing ever will induce me to have any sort of likeness-taking again. So you make up your minds once for all! Please send me the address of the Church Pastoral Aid Society and the secretary’s name, as now I can do what I wanted.

(To M. V. G. H.y

PARK VILLA, MUMBLES, February 21, 1879.

If you are writing to E. Clay, please give her my love, and I shall not forget to-morrow. You will get the photos, to-day; I was wretchedly poorly, and shivering with cold the day I was taken. I thought I looked more of a lady, which these certainly do not give me the idea of!

I had such a spree last night! I got the whole household to sign my Temperance Pledge-book, Tucker himself down to little Johnnie! and Mary F. I am so delighted.

I did so want to send to the Church Pastoral Aid Society, but I don’t like halving things, so I will not do that; but to please dear Giles, I will postpone my gift to C. P. A. till next year, and send to the Bible Society instead, so he may reckon that is his getting for it! Tell Ellen I will be sure and take care of number one, and that I have not found Phil. iv. 19 to fail yet, and moreover the Lord always does at least as much, and generally more than He promises, so she need not be alarmed as to my future.

I have set really to work. I am re-writing part of the Kept papers: the first chapter is quite new; there was so much to say. It is a very serious thing to set about work which goes to tens of thousands. I felt I must set apart a day entirely for prayer, etc., which I did yesterday, instead of setting to work, and I do not think it was time lost.

I found old Mrs. Phillips sitting up, and no end delighted to see me back. A dear little girl died yesterday in the village from heart disease, the sister of that lovely little heathen who comes to me for books. The little dead child looked so exquisitely beautiful.

Snow here the last three mornings, but it melts, and as usual brilliant sun, when not actually snowing. My cough is less, and I feel much better than before I went to London. Mary is most devoted, and it will be an immense addition to my comfort to make her save my eyes; as finer weather and longer days come on, I shall try to be out of doors as much as I possibly can, so as to be fresher for real work at my desk.

I have just sent ;£ioo towards clearing ’s premium;

I do want that millstone cleared off, and then I can easily do more next year. It is so tremendously nice earning money to give away j I had no idea it was such fun!

(Post Card.)

March 29, 1879.

I know it is fanciful, and not the real meaning, but I like applying verse 8 of Ezek. x., ‘The form of a man’s hand under their wings,’ to the thought of the Divine wings and hand. ‘Under the shadow of His wings,’ there is still closer the form of a Man’s hand — the pierced Hand. Perhaps pressing sore, but certainly encircling and holding fast. Or again, taking the cherubim in their, I suppose, real meaning, as the Church of God, while the sound of their wings (ver. 5) is ‘heard even to the outer court’ (cf. Rom. x. 18), the Man’s hand, ‘Christ the Power of God’ (i Cor. i. 24) is under them as they ‘run and return’ (ch. i. 14), not their hand, but ‘Thy right hand ’ (Ps. xliv. 3), ’ working with them ’ (Mark xvi. 30). Do you like this thought? I have only this minute hit on it.

THE MUMBLES, April 2, 1879.

MY DEAR COLLECTORS, — God has given us one of the most splendid answers to prayer I ever knew. He has prospered our Bruey Branch ever so much beyond what I asked or thought, and so, maybe, it is beyond what you asked or thought either. So those of us who have been faithfully remembering to pray for our work on Monday mornings, may have the joy of hearty thanksgiving for answered prayer; and if those who have been forgetting all about it will nevertheless join in thanking Him for doing what they did not ask, I think they will be glad to join in our prayers after this.

Two years ago we started with eight collectors, and sent up ^20, 93. id.; last year we had eighteen collectors, and sent up ^41, 93. 3d.; and this year we have seventy-eight collectors, and have sent up ;£io8, 195. id.! Is not this grand? And this is not nearly all. Mr. Roe, one of the Association secretaries, tells me that he has ’ hundreds of cards out, and is appointing “Twig” secretaries in all directions,’ so that dear little Bruey’s work is bearing most wonderful fruit, and it looks as if there would be a great deal more next year than this. We have five ‘Twigs’ in the Bruey Branch, besides the senior and junior divisions; but it seems we shall have a great many more soon.

Now, as our faithful God has heard our poor little prayers so far, I want you to pray still more, and especially that He would not only help us in our collecting, but that He would send a very great spiritual blessing on the work done in Ireland by means of the money collected. Will you join me in asking four things? i. That God would give His Holy Spirit to all the Irish teachers and their pupils. 2. That very many may, during this year, seek and find Jesus. 3. That those who find Him, may be filled with love, and that the joy of the Lord may be their strength, especially in bearing persecution for His sake. 4. That every one who finds Christ, may begin at once to bring others to Him. I wish you would just copy these four things out, and put them in your Bibles, so that you may be reminded every Monday morning what to pray for, and we shall see what gracious answers God will give us. ‘The Lord hath done great things for us,’ and it seems as if He were saying, ‘Thou shalt see greater things than these,’ so ’ be glad and rejoice, for the Lord will do great things.’ Find these three texts out, and mark them in your Bibles.

Now for some business remarks. I wish you would all learn to be business-like. Some of you did everything right, and I herewith offer my best thanks, as secretary, for their having saved me a good deal of trouble by doing all I asked. But how was it that I had to write to seven or eight of you, because the ist of March went by, and you did not send your card in? Some of you even then kept me waiting, and thus I was defeated in a very nice little plan I had, which I meant to have written to each of you about, to reach you on St. Patrick’s day, March 17. I will see if I can do it next year.

Do you remember my asking you to pray for a dear little girl? Her mamma writes as follows: — * I enclose ;£5, our darling Nony’s collection for the Irish Society, and which in all probability will be her last, as the doctors say she is now past recovery, and that it is only a question of time. What an unspeakable comfort and perfect rest it gives us to feel that our times are in His hand whose way is perfect f so that we cannot for one moment wish anything otherwise than as He orders it. The work sold was not all her own doing, but she worked a few minutes at a time as long as she was able. She has had two operations during the last month, and has a large wound in her thigh. Her sufferings have been terrible, but I have never heard a murmur. It was so kind of you to ask prayer for her, and seemed to please her much.’ Please remember poor dear little Nony, and ask the Good Shepherd to deal very tenderly with His little suffering lamb. Surely He will send a special blessing on her work, ‘the few stitches’ done ’ as long as she was able.’

I am sending a copy of the February number of Day of Days to each collector, If any one does not receive it, please let me know. I particularly want you all to take the little magazine in, and recommend it to your subscribers — it is only a penny a month, — for now we have arranged to have something about the Irish work in it every month, so that all collectors and contributors will be able to get fresh accounts, besides a great deal else that will be nice to read. The one I send contains a paper called Novel Kind of Schools. The March number (which I do hope you will get) has been called

How very Irish! April will have Well, you get

it, and see what! Next June I hope, please God, to go to Ireland myself, on purpose to go to the parts where our Society is at work, and then I shall write all about what I saw and heard, and have it printed in the magazine, which will be better than these short circulars, and I hope much more interesting. That’s another thing I want you to pray for ask that if it is God’s will I should go and do this, I may be both blessed and made a blessing in doing it.

And now I will give you a text for your next year’s work: ‘Be not weary in well-doing.’ Perhaps some of you are a little bit weary in it; some have owned that they are, as they sent up a card not quite so full as last year.

However, I do trust the loving Saviour will lay it on their hearts with enduring power, that they may work for Jesus’ sake only, and not get weary now the novelty has worn off. This is just what I pray for every one of you, dear ones, whether I know you personally or not. To that loving Saviour I commend you and your work for the coming year. — Your very affectionate secretary, On receiving the £$ with the news that dear Nony had been very, very ill for some months, my dear sister sent her this sweet little note: —

MY DEAR NoNY,1 — I had no idea you were suffering so much all this time. I think Jesus must have been carrying you in His arms all the while, because you see when anybody can’t even walk, they must be carried. And I am quite sure He must be loving you ever so much; I mean with a very special and tender love, because it says, ‘Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth.’ I thank you so much for the violets. I have such a number of new Bruey collectors that I hardly know how

1 See Memorials of Little Nony. Nisbet & Co.

I shall manage them all. We shall have a famous report for next year, I hope. Very much love from your loving friend.

MUMBLES, February 25, 1879.

Yours is just such a letter as it is real self-denial to me not to sit down and answer seriatim. I resolutely take only a P. C, because I have set myself to a bit of work which I find requires very careful thought; and as writing tries me, I am going to write post cards till it is done, as I do want to keep fresh and free, that I may give my best to the Master in doing it. (Starlighi through the Shadows’).

Very much obliged for the books, and for your sister’s charming letter. And believe me that my full sympathy followed all you told me; instead of answering by pen I will, God helping me, answer by prayer!

I cannot understand how any Christian can stand still and sing such a misrepresentation of His service as —

1 If I find Him, if I follow,

What His guerdon here?
Many a sorrow, many a labour,
Many a tear 1 ’

Is not that too bad? Do we not know it to be unfair to our Lord and His happy service? Where does He say that is ‘His guerdon here’? Let us just think for our service what He does say: ‘Work; for I am with you, saith the Lord of hosts.’ That alone is the grandest, richest, sweetest ‘guerdon here’ that any loving heart can ask. Now for another promise, which certainly does not look like that wretched linking of ’ labour ’ with ‘many a sorrow, and many a tear.’ That is what the old Greek hymn-writer says. But God says, ‘Mine elect shall long enjoy the work of their hands.’

MUMBLES.

... The one thing strongly on my mind to say to you is, Do not let your mind dwell at all on any attentions you may receive. If it is to come to anything, your thinking about it will not make any difference; but if it is not, then every thought you have spent on it will have to be, as it were, unthought — you will be preparing pain and disappointment for yourself just in proportion to how much you have allowed yourself to dwell on this. I know well enough by experience, that one cannot help it of one’s self, but I do know also what power our Lord has over our thoughts when committed to Him, and how wonderfully He can make a way of escape for us. See,

dear, I want you first thing to go and lay the

matter very simply before the Lord. Tell Him all that is in your heart, every bit of it. And then ask Him to undertake for you. Ask your King just to order everything if it is His will, and to keep you very calm till His will is clearly shown, and very willing that He should take His own way with you and with your future life. But ask the Lord, if it is not His will you should marry, to make you perfectly content, and then to take away all the wish out of your heart, so that you may be ’ free to serve ’ with your whole mind undistracted by it. And then ask Him, in His great kindness, that He would interpose in some way to make this easy to you, He has such wonderful ways! I think this is very important, for I am sure one does not serve quite so freely and fully when one has possibilities of marriage in suspense. Of course I have gone through all this years ago, and even just now have had to say ‘No,’ though to a decided Christian, being perfectly clear it was right to say so; I need hardly tell you I shall, God helping me, pray about it for you. I will ask that if it is God’s will you may not be kept in any suspense, whichever way it is. I should so like you to have the happiness of human love and care for you; it would make me extremely happy, if it does turn out to be a real and right step. But you are in the hands of your own dear Master, and He will do the best thing for you, I have no doubt of that!

(Memorandum by M. V. G. ff.)

March 20, 1879.

‘H. converted and O. P. consecrated.’ This extract shall be briefly explained.

F. R. H. had promised to take most needed rest from her desk-work on the breezy cliffs that afternoon. The hour passed by, and still her door was shut. Then she came, beaming of course: ‘Marie, I’ve had such a tussel with Satan! I had my hat on and was going to the cliffs with you when I saw O. P. on a ladder painting my study windows. I was so tired, that it was quite a battle to talk to him then, but I threw the window open to ask how he was getting on. Directly he said, “O, Miss Frances, I’ve been longing for weeks for a chance to speak to you.” Then came such an outpour of his desire to be quite out and out on the Lord’s side; so I saw the time was come, as I expected it would from our last conversation. So I told him to come in through the window; and after reading and prayer, I asked if he would now, in his own words, say to Jesus Himself, “Thou art my King.” And so he did, so fully and really; and the answer, “I will be Thy King,” seemed to fall with hushing power as we knelt. And afterwards he told me how differently he left my study than when he came in, so glad that Jesus was henceforth his King as well as his Saviour. My verse seemed just to express his desire:

‘” Reign over me, Lord Jesus!

Oh make my heart Thy throne;
It shall be Thine for ever,
It shall be Thine alone 1”’

(Post Card to Mrs. Morgan, Vicarage, Swansea. )

Good Friday Night.

I am still better, and though of course not myself yet, I hope now to be able for Thursday (Y. W. C. A. meeting). Was so ill Tuesday, that it seemed quite hopeless to think of it, but I should think you have been praying! Should have been so sorry to disappoint you, knowing your difficulties. Do pray that I may have a real message to some.

Monday, April 14, 1879.

DEAREST MRS. MORGAN, — God has been so very gracious in making me better so very much quicker than usual after such a turn, so it is all right for Tuesday as far as that is concerned. I took a sort of turn and got rapidly better just after my first note went — but I was so ill when I wrote it, that judging from previous experiences it did not seem likely I should be out of bed, let alone out of doors, in time; and it seemed as if God were intending to say ‘No! ’ to my coming. However, I was mistaken in that! I wish I had your and my sister’s gift — because I know I must disappoint you and all who know me as F. R. H. Gifts do differ — and mine is not addresses. Still I will just simply try to say whatever God may give me at the time. I feel too done up somehow to prepare properly — I tried and could not! So must just leave it and ask God to use a weak thing, and you will ask too for blessing, in spite of my incapacity.

(Memorandum by M. V. G. ff.)

My dear sister Frances went to Swansea on Thursday, i yth. I sent our good maid M. Farrington with her, as she did not wish me to go; she says that on the way Miss Frances talked so humbly, and that she ‘felt as if she had no right to go teaching others — such a sinner as I am; but then Mary, I am just trusting for every word.’ The room was quite full. Mrs. Morgan, not knowing F.’s subject, had chosen a hymn that did not suit it, and my sister always thought it important that hymns should be suitably chosen. As her subject for the evening was from Hos. iii., ‘I also for thee,’ (See Starlight through the Shadows)^ F. said she wished to sing * Precious Saviour, may I live, only for Thee.’ Mrs. Morgan said they did not know her tune to it (‘Onesimus,’ S. G. G. 257.) F.: ‘No fear! Do let me just sing one verse alone, and I know they will join.’ Going to the piano and turning her face to them, she sang with her own bright ringing cheeriness one verse, and then all joined most heartily with her. Mary told me of my sister’s soft pleading voice — that her words were intensely tender and entreating. At the close of the meeting, my sister gave to each one a card with her Consecration hymn, ‘Take my life and let it be Consecrated, Lord, to Thee,’ specially prepared and printed for this evening (Messrs. Parlane, Paisley, still supply them). Her own name was omitted, and a blank space left for signature. As she gave the cards, she asked them to make that hymn a test before God, and if they could really do so, to sign it on their knees at home. Then the hymn was sung to our dear father’s tune ‘Patmos ’ (No. 145, S. G. G.).

It seems to have been a great night of decision to many present. The next morning, before ever her breakfast was finished, one and another came for conversation with my dear sister — a French governess was specially impressed. My sister returned very much exhausted — meetings seemed to take away her little physical strength, and yet she always cheerfully took up any work for her King.

This tune was invariably sung by my sister to her words, and it certainly grieves us that such a very mournful unsuitable tune is substituted for it in Sankey’s Solos. — Messrs. Parlane, Paisley, supply this and many others of F. R. H’s. OIVH tunes, as also the only correct version of ‘Tell it out.’ (74, 74, D.

ONESIMUS.

F. R. H.

Pre - cious Say - iour, may I live On ly for Thee!

i i

^J

I;

J £

Fg — IPg r —

£ —

£5
Spend the pow - ers Thou dost give

! I I i

On - ly for Thee!

SEES

J- J J

T-T r r — i — r

Be my spir - it’s deep de - sire On - ly for Thee!

May my in - tel - lect a - spire On - ly for Thee! A - men.

(To S. G. P.y

May 1879.

I will tell you the worst first! It’s all up about Mr. Sankey singing * Loving all along ’ in England. He has asthma or something worse; is forbidden to sing at all; is giving up all his engagements here, and going back to America next month. So he only tinkles on the piano. Then the very day he came, I started a feverish attack which threatened to get serious, but mercifully is diminishing this morning; but when I shall be able to sing again I don’t know! as I am in bed of course. However, I did sing c Loving all along ’ directly he came, as I knew I might get no other chance, though it was a poor chance enough to sing it with a splitting headache and an icy chill down my spine. And the first thing Sankey said was that ’ it wouldn’t do for America at all ‘! because ‘Tramp, tramp ’ is their most popular war song, and it would never do for him to sing it!

Now for the other side.

Next morning he said, ‘That song of yours abides with me, that big one! I woke up with it. There’s two or three points that haunt me.” That’s all right,’ said I, ’ for /woke up with a way out of the American difficulty. “J*ar, far on the downward way,” etc., instead of “Tramp,” if the author does not object.’ Then he looked very serious (which he generally does not), and said, ‘It’s my belief that song has got to go. And that /’// have to sing it! It’s kind of taken a hold of me ‘! So then we looked carefully through the song, for as I have not heard him sing, I could not tell if it would suit his voice, and was ready to alter and carve as much as he liked, but oh, dear no, he would not have a single note touched. I was * just to go right ahead] and write it out for press, exactly as it stood.

I hope you won’t feel it needful to give thanks under protest for the answer to your prayer under protest 1

The Baroness von Cramm is extremely struck with the music, which she says is ’ so dramatic and so beautiful,’ and I know you won’t be sorry to hear this! All the same, I do not think the song will be popular, because it is just one of those which is utterly ruined if stumbled over, or even if well played by one who does not DASH off the recitative-like style with real spirit and bring out the sharp contrasts which give effect. But if nobody else ever sings it but Sankey and the Baroness in their different spheres, those two are worth thousands of ordinary singers, and if not a copy sells, the two copies that go to them, may do more real work for God than a dozen editions. So we will thank God and take courage. Besides, though I cannot sing like them, I know I can make some listen to ‘Loving — ALL along!’ and perhaps God will give me a little fruit thereby besides what they will get.

I go off to Ireland on my mission station tour on June 4 (D. V.y. Have been ’ marvellously helped ’ in total abstinence work here, and got 120 to sign in this little village of Newton — at least, chiefly in the village and a few around — mostly children, but it is spreading upwards. I am quite astonished at what God has wrought. I never dreamt of asking for so many as He has given me for my * Newton Temperance.’

(F. R. H.toC.H. Purday.)

May I, 1879.

Glad it is all straight now for Nisbet! Shall leave form and style and everything to you and Mr. N.

Thanks, I rarely have anything the matter with me except what arises from over-pressure. God has given me an exceptionally healthy set of organs, so all doctors tell me, only they add, ‘Your physique is not equal to the brain and nerves.’ ‘If you could live as an oyster, you might be a little Hercules,’ said one to me! But / cannot live as an oyster! I have always more to write and do and talk and attend to than I can get through in the day without just so much fatigue and pressure as keeps me nearly always more or less suffering or exhausted. It is the little things that do it — ’ only just ’ this note and that letter, and the other ten minutes’ interview, and so on — all day long! And I cannot live near a poor village (Newton Mumbles) and not get doing anything for the people — and one thing always involves and leads on to another, and the very success that God gives to really everything I put my hand to, wears me out. A. special branch of work for the Irish Society, which I started only two years ago, thinking merely to have about a dozen juvenile collectors in tow, forthwith grew, so that there are now more than 100, all in my own hands, and this will ere long be multiplied and be kept organized with lots of other things growing out of it. I only name this as one out of many similar growths, and your kind interest deserved an explanation of the state of things once for all! Then every time I pay a visit, I always get a whole following of fresh friends, and readers and correspondents! I can’t imagine whereinto it will grow! And sometimes I look longingly to the land that is very far away just for rest.

THE MUMBLES, May 9, 1879.

I leave this (D. V.) on June 4. Then for two months I shall be touring about the Irish Society Mission stations, with a few visits to friends near Dublin at the end. Of course, it would be very inconvenient to have proofs pursuing one on a carpet-bag tour in the backwoods, but equally of course they cannot stop altogether, so I will get the Society to keep forwarding them from headquarters.

I have just finished a little book for children, Morning Stars; or, the Names of Christ for His Little Ones. Please say truly whether your hands are so full, that if you were to read over my little book, it would cause you any extra trouble; for in that case I would forego the advantage sooner than you should be burdened. It is just a size larger than the Bells and Pillows.

I have had it much on my mind to write something for children. It seems time I gave them a turn, but I was waiting for my orders!

I think my sister is as grateful as I am to you, for the way in which you have saved me fatigue.

THE MUMBLES, May 1879.

DEAR MR. WATSON, — You did not answer one part of my question, whether I should print the enclosed little book with the Kept for the Master’s Use, as it is all part of the same subject? I should be glad to know what you think, because it will make a little difference in my rewriting the first chapter of Kept whether I include / also for Thee in the same little volume or not. If I do include it, I shall of course alter the opening, rewriting it so as to fit on to the other and complete it. I should rather prefer thus putting the two into one, for the sake of getting greater completeness of the subject; but if you see any objection, I will not do so. Of course, I can easily do it at once, and have it out for Easter; but would you like to risk my having nothing but the invalid book for October? Had I not better wait? I’ll tell you just how it is. I have been very unhappy since I left you about the whole thing, and I don’t think I have got any real commission to write anything at all for next season except the invalid book. You see, I found I was looking at it all in a different light, thinking rather of what would be most successful, and keep up the run, than simply and only, Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? ‘And it won’t be the least use my attempting to write to any purpose if that element comes in, and I simply dare not write at all if I find it there. It is a totally different thing with you. I quite see all you said, but then God has given you a definite calling, and therefore it is your duty before Him to fulfil it from a business point of view, but He has not given me any duty of the sort at all, and I believe I am going off the lines of my especial calling altogether if once I begin thinking of it as a matter of business and success and cheques and all that, and I can’t expect the same blessing in it. And so, though of course it stands to reason that the invalid book must have a very limited circulation compared to the others, I shall be much happier doing that, and I believe I shall have more real, i.e. spiritual, results from it than if I set myself to do those I subsequently thought of, because I do think God gave me the thought and the wish to do the one, whereas the thought of doing the others this season seemed to me to arise rather out of having got that big cheque. No one can be more delighted than I am to get those same cheques; but so far as I know myself, I have never yet taken them into consideration when thinking of writing any one of my little books, and rinding myself doing so, made me just miserable. I don’t know if I have explained myself, only I have felt so very strongly and sweetly hitherto that my pen was to be used only for the Master, that I am very fearful of getting the least out of the course in which I have felt His blessing.

The upshot is, I don’t think I shall write any general book for October, nothing but Starlight through the Shadows, and possibly one or a pair of books for children; and this being the case, had I not better reserve Kept to come out along with Starlight? Then I should still have a pair of books apparently, though not really a pair. I did not mean to tell you all this, but if I did not, you might think I was fickle and perhaps idle, and that it was no good giving me advice. I hope you won’t be vexed and disappointed with me; you don’t know how really grateful I feel for all you have said and done.

Will you tell dear Katie that if she has not already sent the photographs to Winterdyne, I should be glad if she will address them to Elm Row instead? How glad I should be if the reports of you were better. — Yours affectionately and gratefully.

[This was one of F. R. H.’s last letters. She passed into the presence of her King, June 3, 1879.]