1874–1875

A dark enigma — Typhoid fever — ‘* Waiting at the golden gates” — Coming back from them — Winterdyne — Relapse — Oakhampton — The ministry of kind servants — Return to work — Letters — Gleams — Whitby — “Reality!’ — The old friend’s letter — Kindness of friends.:

“Wuar though to-day Thou canst not trace at all the hidden reason For His strange dealings through the trial season, Trust and obey! Though God’s cloud-mystery enfold thee here, In after life and light a, shall be plain and clear.”

N the latter part of this year (1874) came one of the strange enigmas of her life, stranger to

our weaker faith than to her own implicit trust. Somehow or somewhere she caught fever, and commenced her homeward journey with dull headache and sickness. But she did not fail in that loving care for the stranger to whom reference was made on the preceding page; and, through some mistake on her not arriving at Willesden, Frances waited an hour and a half, and then took her in the train some miles on her journey, that she might not forego the promised interview. This testimony was received after the conversation: “Oh, if I could only feel as she looked; your sister Frances was so young and lovely, and I am glad I saw for once that God-satisfied face. A ray of hope came as she talked to me in the train. aa

Home was reached, shiverings and feverish symptoms rapidly set in, and she was soon utterly prostrate with typhoid fever. All that motherly watchfulness, medical skill, and trained nursing “could do failed to arrest the attack. About the middle of November the balancings of our hopes and fears were just between life and death. Prayer was made unceasingly for the life so dear to us, and even special prayer meetings were held to plead for one known so widely, though principally by her writings. Our prayers and cries and tears were answered, and our beloved one was restored.

Some weeks after she told me many things
which may be profitable to others.

“All through my long illness I was very happy; the first part was the most painful, I think it must have been neuralgia with the fever. I don’t really think I was ‘ impatient deep down in my heart, and yet the pain and agony I was in made me anxious for the poultices, and to try anything. Ido think I am sensitive to pain, and what was agony to me would be slight to others. My one wish was to glorify God and to let my doctor and

nurse see it; so at the very first I determined to ask for

nothing and just odey. Nothing could exceed dear

mother’s kindness and tenderness to me day and night,

and getting everything I wished for. For some time,

even in those bright days in the Ormont Dessus, I had a presentiment that, may be, my faith would be tried, and

that my Father would not leave me without chastisement. Not that I think illness such a trial as many others I have gone through; oh, it’s nothing to wnseen

trials! Besides, you get such sympathy in illness, and I

knew many would pray for me. Only, I did wot want them to pray that I might get well at all. Sometimes I

could not guzte see His Face, yet there was His promise

‘TI will never: leave thee.’ I knew He said it and that

He was there.” -:

M. “Had you any fear at all to die?”

fF, “Oh no, not a shadow. It was on the first day of this illness I dictated to Constance, ‘ Just as Thou wilt, O Master, call!’”

MM. “Then, was it delightful to think you were going home, dear Fan?”

F. “No, it was not the idea of going home, but that He was coming for me and that I should see my King. I never thought of death as going through the dark valley or down to the river; it often seemed to me a going up to the golden gates and lying there in the brightness, just waiting for the gate to open forme.... I never before was, so to speak, face to face with death. It was like a look into heaven; and yet, when my Father sent me back again, I felt it was His will, and so I could not be disappointed.”

About the middle of January (1875) change of air was recommended, and I brought her to Winterdyne. I remember that, just as we were assisting her into the carriage at our Leamington home, the telegram came with the almost sudden news of our dear brother Henry’s death, but it was thought right not to tell her till the journey was over.

Only a few days passed of comparative recovery, when a relapse set in, and she was again ill for many weeks. It was really delightful work to nurse one so patient, so thankful, so considerate; and, when it seemed needful to relieve the servants, and send for a nurse, they pleaded to be let sit up in turn with “dear Miss Frances.”

Turning to my notebook I find some recollections which may be given.

January 29, 1875. Sitting by dear Frances she said to me, “Isn’t He gracious not to send me so severe an attack as in November? I felt sure the night I was shivering that illness was coming again; and, as I lay down, the sweet consciousness that I was just lying down in His dear hand was so stilling.”

- “Marie, do you think. this simile holds good, that when we cast our burden on the Lord, at our first prayer He cuts the strings that bind it on us; then, if we give a leap, the burden will slide off, and we shall not go on toiling with it up the hill! I mean, if we just ee 8 eee thanked and praised Him, at once the burden would be clean gone!”

Mf. “Were you thinking of the burden of sin, dear?”

#. “Yes, and other burdens; specially aggravations of things that you have no strength to bear.”

‘ M. “TI suppose if He is carrying ws, then He carries our burdens too.”

f. “Yes, that was our text last night, ‘I will carry’; if carried, no weight on us at all.”

M, “I think carrying is His first and last act; when He finds the lost sheep He lays it on His shoulder and just carries it a/7 the way, even znfo His fold above. It will be nice to see Him, Fan!”

F. “‘Nice, I like that; but I never heard any one but you say it just like that, except Mary — — . She once told me of a missionary and his wife who had reached the end of their voyage to India, and were to have landed that night but were prevented; a sudden cyclone arose, and the ship and all in-it went down instantaneously. Mary added, ‘ Was it not nice?’”*

My dear sister always enjoyed the early morning air for a few minutes, and often we had sweet talks before the break of day, and then she would get a little sleep.

Sunday, February 1, I found her very exhausted, and

moaning with pain. She said: “No sleep last night, Marie. The Master wants me to bring forth more fruit,

* ‘ Mice, nice, nice indeed!” were the last words of Fanny Bickersteth. See ‘‘ Doing and Suffering.”

more patience.” I said: “The Husbandman must be very zear when He is pruning the branch, and He is the God of patience.”

a Lhat’s nice.”

Another morning I said: “I will give you your Morning Bell, ‘Thou hast given me the shield of Thy salvation.’”

f, “His shield is the biggest and brightest! I want you to ask some of His praying people to pray for me; it’s not I suppose a question of recovery, but that it may be blessed and sanctified to me. But I know the Lord Jesus is praying for me.”

MM, “Yes, and He prays even Jefore the trial or tempt- ation comes to us, as He said to Peter, ‘But I have prayed for thee.’”

Ff, “And He must have presented all those intercessions for Peter before they heard him knocking at the door.”

After some days Frances was so extremely ill, that we telegraphed for our mother to come to Winterdyne. Remarking to Frances that dear mother was so wise, and that I could always trust her judgment in illness, she added, “Yes, and such watchfulness and handiness too.”

When our dear mother arrived Frances said, “I am trusting Him for every bit of the way.”

Mother. “Yes, dear, and He will not bring us by the right way and then leave us in the midst.”

F, “But perhaps the vessel won’t get in just the tack she expects to,”

After the feverish attack had passed, she suffered very much from supervening results; but even when in acute pain would say lively things, to divert our thoughts from herself. The servants were indeed astonished at her cheerful patience; and I well remember a remark she made to me: “Oh, Marie, if I might but have five minutes ease from pain! I don’t want ever to moan when gentle sister Ellen comes in. How Iam troubling you all!”

M. “But, Fan! we should not think it trouble
to minister to the Lord Jesus!”

fF. “Well no, I only hope relationship won’t
preclude a big ‘inasmuch’ for you all.”

«., It’s no mistake, Marie, about the blessing God sent me December 2, 1873; it is far more distinct than my conversion, I can’t date that. Iam always happy, and it is such peace; I could not help smiling when my kind doctor said, ‘I dare say you feel rather depressed.’ I said: ‘No indeed! quite happy, only tired and want to be quiet” Of course I should like to be at work, and it seems ’ strange how often I am hindered from it. You are always pegging away; but I like to think I ska serve Him up there, and I would rather serve than rest.... The work I should so like to take up is drawing-room Bible readings; I so enjoyed one I took down at Bocking, but was rather startled to see the good folks taking notes! You see, I had

M just overcome the nervousness I used to feel, and I could so trust about this also.”

Another day Frances said: “I think my special “anticipation of heaven is seeing the Lord Jesus exalted, glorified, vindicated, reigning King of kings, and all His enemies owning Him.”

WM. “Have you thought that as, in the Gospels, Christ’s special manifestations were to people when alone, so when we first see Him in heaven it will be alone?”

F. “Yes, and that is most beautifully brought out in Mr. Bickersteth’s ‘ Yesterday, To-day, and For ever,’ it’s the very gem of the book. When I read it, and came to where the angel leaves him waiting for the King to come, I almost trembled as I turned the page; for, if Mv. B. had treated it with a light hand, it would have been profane; but it’s lovely.”

“I have been thinking, Marie, how much more God gives me than I need. Look at this illness! Well, except the bearing it, there is no other sting init. I feel illness is the least trial, and it comes so directly from the hand of God. And how kind they all are tome! Winterdyne always seems to me a sort of millennial household!”

Her recovery was extremely slow, but her room was the brightest in the house. At last she was carried downstairs, but for’some time used crutches. Needlework for the Zenana Missions was a great enjoyment to her. Sitting by her one day she told me her reasons for giving up singing at the Philharmonic. “It is a long time ago that I made the choice of singing sacred music only, I did so some months before I wrote:

‘Take my lips, and let me sing,
Always, only, for my King.’

I was visiting at Perry Villa when Dr. Marshall sent me the programme of the next Kidderminster concert, and strongly urged me to sing the part of Jezebel in the ‘Elijah,’ saying that he could not depend on any one else for it. I knew I could do it; for once, at the practice, the doctor said I threw such life into it. Mentioning it to Mr. Snepp, he expressed surprise, and his words struck me: ‘How cana Christian girl personate Jezebel?’ So I thought about it, saw the inconsistency, and gave it up. I think the last thing I sang in the hall was ‘Come unto Him!’ Then at Leamington, the first large party I went to, they asked me to sing, and I sang ‘Whom having not seen ye love.’ Every one seemed astonished, and especially some Christian girls who had begun to think music could not be for the King’s service, and were rather rebelling at their daily practice. They had never thought of consecrating their voices and fingers, but began from thenceforth. I would advise any one thoroughly to master one song, make it part of yourself, throw your whole self into it, then pray it may be His message, and it will be all right. For myself, I have more confidence in singing Scripture words than any other, because they are Hzs. And, Marie dear, as I sing I am praying, too, that it may soothe or reach some one, though I may never know whom.”

“I have been resting lately on ‘The Lord is my portion.’ All else is so unsatisfying, and even the best earthly gifts fail to reach the true depths of the heart. Ido so love that hymn:

*To Thee, O dear, dear Saviour,
My spirit turns for rest.’

What could we do without Him in this lonely world of shadows? And He will not let us do without Him! And may we not reverently and wonderingly say, ‘ Neither can He do without us! His people are so entwined around His heart that it must be so. “I have also been thinking that only the Holy Spirit can teach any one the mystery of ‘the blood which cleanseth from all sin. For years I believed it, without seeing as I do now into the mystery, and there are depths yet unseen, “PERFECTLY SATISFIED,” 165

which God’s Spirit reveals as His work of sanctification goes on.”

We are kindly allowed to insert two or three
letters of this period.

WINTERDYNE, February 22, 1875.

Dear Mr. $

I want to thank you for all your prayers for me. Only, only, have the prayers of my dear friends held me back from going to be with the Beloved One? Or is it that He has some more little work for me to do, and so has only been richly answering all your prayers in the “perfect peace” in which He has kept me? Oh, He has been so tenderly gracious to me; it has been such gentle, faithful lovingkindness all through. It seems worth even coming back from the very golden gates if I may but in some way “tell of His faithfulness.” I do wish people would but trust Jesus out and out, and give themselves up utterly to Him; and then wouldn’t they find rest to their souls! But it will be a long waiting time yet, “at least six months” says my doctor, before I may write or do anything. But now just see how wonderfully kind He is to me., He has taken my will as I gave it to Him, and now I really am not conscious of even a wish crossing His will concerning me. I seem to be enabled to be PERFECTLY satisfied with whatever He chooses, and it is so nice. This is all of Him, otherwise I should fidget and kick! Somehow, of late, I mean for many months, He seems not to have allowed the enemy to come near me. From the hour my illness began I have only had one dark hour, and that was when I thought my special prayer, ‘‘that this sickness might be for the glory of God,” had been denied, for I felt I had not “glorified Him in the fires,” because, after I had lost all my strength, I could not bear the pain without moaning and crying out, and showing eagerness for remedies. But He so tenderly assured me of pardon, and gave me “He knoweth our frame,” that even that cloud soon passed. In this second illness He has mercifully spared me any recurrence of such pain, only laying upon me discomfort enough to exercise the patience which has perhaps been His chief lesson forme. Perhaps you and other dear friends will be disappointed. I know you expect that the Master will give me new and fuller messages for others after all this. But I really do not know what He has been teaching me; I do not seem conscious (at present) of having gained anything for others; it has been just lying fallow. For myself I feel as if it had intensified my trust; I do trust Him utterly, and feel as .if I could not help trusting Him; it seems to ‘‘ come natural” now! And “I will fear zo evil” seems a natural sequence; what should I fear? There is no terror in anything when “safe in the arms of Jesus,” and nothing can take me out of them. The marvellous way in which God has inclined you especially, and others too, to pray for me does seem such a token of His incomprehensible love to me, that I see I need an eternity to praise Him to my heart’s content! Now, dear friend, I am asking Him that, somehow, and in His own time, He would graciously let me, even me, be the means of some new sweet blessing to you, perhaps to your people too, as a tiny return for all your loving prayers for me. Do you think that the Lord does show unto His servants things which must shortly come to pass? It was oe ee so strange that, while perfectly well and strong in Switzerland, I had a constant presentiment that some form of physical suffering would be the next step in His dealings with me, that His loving wisdom would see it needful for me. But I had not a vestige of fear or shrinking; I rather felt I could welcome it, if it might but make me more “‘ meet for the Master’s use.” So I was not a bit surprised when the illness came.

How infinitely blessed it is to be entirely Christ’s! To think that you and I are never to have another care or another fear, but that Jesus has undertaken simply everything for us! And isn’t it grand to have the privilege of being His instruments? It does seem such loving condescension that He should use us.

I don’t know when I shall get downstairs; much too weak as yet. But I am in no hurry, He will give me strength at the right time. Yours, etc., etc.

. WINTERDYNE, spite 1875. DEAR Mr. Your letter came on the evening of a day of more than usual languor, after a bad night, and it was spiritual salvolatile to me! Iam so glad to hear of your ten. Many thanks for your remembrance of me on Wednesday evening, and for letting me have the pleasure of joining you. Will you tell your “band” that God seemed to put it into my heart, in a very special way, to pray that they all might be soul-winners, and a¢ once, No waiting for further orders, they have got their commission zoz: “let him that heareth say, Come!” And I prayed long at Acts iv. 29, 30, for them; “grant unto Thy servants,” etc. But there must be power from on high, or they are helpless; and I asked that this might be given. Then, I think the Master gave me a special text for them, will you ask them to take it each one as from Him: ‘“Behold I give you power over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means hurt you.” Why, it is grand; “power over ail the power of the enemy!” Just where he is strongest, there they shall prevail; not over his weak points and places, but over — the very focus of his power; not over his power here and there, or now and then, but over all his power. And Jesus said it! Isn’t it enough to go into any battle with! And it is not future; not “I qw?/ give,” but present, zow: “I give unto you,” “unto you,” to every one whom He sends out, to every one of your dear “ten,” if they will but put out the hand of faith to take it. One hardly seems to need any addition to this, and yet His tender love adds the personal assurance, “nothing shall by any means hurt you.” Nothing, really and absolutely nothing! So there is not the least loophole left for the shadow of a fear to steal in. No end to the promise, it won’t leave off, good for every day and moment all along, “till glory.” Now, with such a clear commission and such an inspiring promise, which of your “ten” will be content to let another day pass without an attack upon “the power of the enemy”? When shall I hear of the victories that must follow? You will tell me of them, won’t you? I want each one of your “ten” to begin at once to work out with God the fulfilment of Isaiah xlix. 25, so that numbers of captives may be delivered from the enemy, and led as blessed, willing, rejoicing captives in the triumph of Jesus Christ. I should like also to send to your “loving F” “more than conquerors through

“d GLORIOUS LIFE.” 169

Him that loved us,” and to your “little S” Jeremiah i. 7.- Why, only think if he begins winning souls at fourteen, and goes straight on, (God sparing him,) what splendid sheaves he will have to lay at the Master’s feet! Will you ask them to send me a text for myself.

In what I have said I need hardly say I do not forget the other side, that “no man can come to Me except,” etc. and so on; but then is not the seeking and obtaining His power a proof that we are on the track of His purposes? “Thy people shall be willing in the day of Thy power,” and it is only in ‘‘Thy power” that we hope to succeed. I rejoice in your joy in Him. How good He is to us!

I never find that He fails to respond to trust; it is indeed “whatsoever” in its fulness. And now I see that “able” means ad/e, and “all” means all. Do you not find that, even in proportion as we realize this marvellous power upon us and in us, we realize as never before our utter dependence upon it, and utter weakness without it, AND our utter vileness and sinfulness were the cleansing power of His precious blood withdrawn for one moment! But why should we ever refuse to believe in its glorious fulness? (x John 1, 7.)

I keep wondering every day what new lovingkindness is coming next! It is such a glorious life! And the really leaving EVERYTHING to Him is so inexpressibly sweet, and surely He does arrange so much better than we could for ourselves, when we leave it all to Him.

(Zo J. E. J)
DEAR J ’

I realize, “Lord, I have given my life to Thee, and every day and hour is Thine.” For, literally, every hour seems in His hand, and filled with His work in some form or other, either preparation, actual service, or, as now, weakness and pain. It is quite marvellous how He really seems answering my prayer that He would accept my whole life, down to its very moments.

... It always seems to me the worst compliment possible to our dear Church of England, when a certain class of minds regard anything which has a little extra life, and love, and warmth, and glow, as being, well — suspicious / As if WE are never to ask, and never to expect, and never to “ave any such extra blessing as He is pouring out in our very midst!

In April, 1875, it was thought desirable that my sister should try change of air; and on the 3rd the Winterdyne servants gathered round for farewell words, and she thanked them warmly for all their kindness, adding: “It was a great comfort, in my illness, the way in which you waited upon me; I saw you never grudged the trouble I gave you; ¢#at would have distressed me. Remember, God’s promises are for each of you; faith is just holding out your hand, and taking them. It is what I am learning every day; it makes me happy, and I want all of you to be always happy, trusting in the Lord Jesus.”

One inscription written in the books she gave them is: “Fanny Holloway, with the writer’s warm thanks for her great kindness and attention during her illness at Winterdyne, January to April, 1875. ‘INASMUCH.’ (Matt. xxv. 40.)”

A short drive to Oakhampton, and there all the comforts of her eldest sister’s pleasant home awaited her.

Frances’ constant consideration for the servants, wherever she visited, secured the most loving service. Bible readings in the servants’ halls, kind talks alone, and helpful prayers are all remembered. The large reference Bibles she gave them are treasured remembrances of this visit. She was delighted when every servant at Oakhampton joined the Christian Progress Union,

(fo 7. ZT. W)

OAKHAMPTON, April 1875.
Dear Mr. W — — ,

I see now! And the whole thing is brightened up splendidly! I both meant myself, and took your remarks to apply, to “fallow” as to service and preparation for service; and so, while I read them with great interest and pleasure, I did not get the full benefit of them, because I said, ‘Oh yes, but I am all right on this point!” But I was all wrong on the point you aimed at, and by your second letter #77. I see that “lamenting” and “trusting” are not compatible; and that, while I fancied I was trusting for everything, I was not trusting as to His sféritwal dealings with me, and that I might rest as satisfied about this as about all else.

Yes, I “could not read His prescription,” but I can now take it without trying to spell it. Isee that my growth in grace is /Zs affair, and that He is certainly taking care of it, even though I don’t see it. Only, I am so sorry I did not trust Him perfectly; it makes me feel that I shall henceforth mistrust myself more than ever, and yet trust Him more than ever.

I am beginning to taste a little bit of the real blessedness of waiting. One does not wait alone, for He waits too. Our waiting times are His also. I have been so delighted with the two “waits” in Isaiah xxx. 18, surely it implies a fellowship of waiting.

(Zo the same.)
April, 1875.

I must just begin a letter to you. Intercourse, even by letter, with real and dear Christian friends, is one of the pleasures which one only szés here, but don’t you think it will be a great delight above? I have been thinking how nice it will be to have a long talk with you in heaven, in the grand leisure of eternity, and interchange the blessed things which the Master will (I suppose) be showing and saying to each, with just as much individuality of revelation as here. Perhaps I look forward to this peculiarly, because I have so very many congenial Christian friends whom I rarely see, and correspondents, known and unknown, with whom I cannot have the intercourse I would; and, owing to my delicate health, there have always been so many interruptions to communications, and of late so much entire isolation. But I think you probably have the same keen anticipation, for you can’t have time on earth for much “sweet counsel”! And how well we can afford to wait for some of our “good things”!

Nearly nine months, since I was last at morning family worship! I was in almost “oo great spirits about it, which is not good for me, and of course I had to subside, and go and lie down for a considerable part of the morning; still it was quite an epoch! After four months’ illness and weakness, I am told that I must not expect to be able for any sort of work for at least six months longer; but I do not feel one regret. Somebody wrote to me about resignation the other day; but I don’t feel as if the word suited at all; there is an umdertone of “feeling it rather hard nevertheless” in it, of submitting to a will which is different from one’s own. He has granted me fully to veyozce in His will, I am not conscious of even a wish crossing it; I do really and altogether desire that His will may be done, whatever it is. It was so sweet, when my second illness began, to lie down under His dear hand, not knowing how long or how much I might have to suffer, but perfectly happy and trustful about it, and gwzze satisfied that He should do with me just as He would. Oh, isn’t it good of Him to have wrought this forme! This terrible pain, — I cannot feel that I zwzsh it taken away a day sooner than His far-sighted faithful love appoints.;

This morning I opened on Deuteronomy xxxii. 2, “‘My speech shall distil as ‘he dew.” It seemed a direct answer from Him, for one does not see the dew fall, one never sees it at all till morning, and then! So perhaps He is speaking to me more than I think for, and, when the “afterward” comes, it may be that I shall find He

‘has said a good deal to me after all! Yours ever.

(Zo the same.)

I find (having fairly tried) that the whole gift of verse is taken from me. I think it will some day be restored (as once before after five years’ suspension); but at present I could not write a hymn or poem. ‘Thus God proves to-me it is directly from Him, not a power to be used at my will, but only when He will; and I would rather have it so. But, even if I were in full vein, I only consciously write up to my own experience; so, though I might write what you would like to see on “Rest and Brightness,” I should have to leave out praise for “‘ power,” because I do not feel that, as yet, God has ever endued me with ¢zaz. It is not ‘‘ come, see, and conquer,” as to souls, with me as it is with you. I know some of my words do not fall to the ground, but most of them do; and the blessing which He does seem to send with my printed writings, and sometimes with my letters, does not seem to me quite the same thing as the blessed “power” which some have. That reminds me, this morning I read 2 Corinthians iv. in the Greek, and was so wonderingly happy over that “far more exceeding weight of glory.” I had not specially noticed the Greek before, how magnificently far reaching and strong it is! I suppose “from glory to glory” is even here and now, and ¢hen to go beyond this to an eternal weight of glory, and ¢hen for this to be xa? imepBodijy as trepBodyy, is such a marvellous leading on of finite thought into infinite glory! It is like those flights that one now and then takes from planets to suns, and suns to star systems and cycles, and then away to the farthest nebule, and then one sees no end, for imagination and analogy go on “THE DEAR OLD IRISH SOCIETY.” 175

till they get lost in infinity. But to think that we are actually going nght zfo all this glory, and have actually begun with it; having the earnest of the purchased possession vow, and absolute certainty of all of it before long! What are flights among stars and nebule compared to this! I have not thought it out, but I feed a connection between this and the Greek in Ephesians ill. 19.

(Zo J. G. M. Kirchhoffer.)

DEAR JuLtIa, — May 9.

Thank you very much for your very pretty little ballad,

and for the leaflets. I shall watch your pen, if we live, with much interest, and pray that you may be enabled to consecrate it, always and entirely, to our beloved Master. You will need to be very watchful, for Satan will try to sow tares among your wheat, and to introduce self into what we want to be ov/y for Christ.

But His grace is sufficient, and if He keeps you, by that grace, humble and looking unto Him, the gift He entrusts to you will be help to yourself, and I hope to many others, and the enemy will not be able to turn it into a hindrance. I am so glad you have been at work already for the dear old Irish Society, and with such thorough good will. Will you make ita matter of prayer? It is often wonderful what unexpected opportunities God gives us when we ask. I have so often found it so in collecting for this very thing. Your taking the card was an answer to myself, for I was feeling rather disheartened that day in the work, and prayed that I might have some extra bit of success at last, as a token for good. And then you consented to collect, where I only looked for a single subscription. Iam afraid it will be, still, a long time before I come home, but I hope to see you and your kind friends when I do. I send you one of my favourite texts, “He zs precious.” Think of the absolute “7s,” always and unspeakably precious, whether we realize it or not. How little we know of His preciousness yet, but how much there is to know, and how much we shall know! Press on then to find more of His preciousness. Yours affectionately.

(Extracts from Letters to Miss E. J. Whately.) °

Sune 1875.

- «.. Though I have had plenty of invalided times, and of short sharp suffering, this has been my very first experience of really severe and prolonged illness (since October); and I do not merely think I ought to feel, but I po feel, that it was the crowning blessing of a year of unprecedented blessing and yet of many trials, “Great is Thy faithfulness” shines cn every day of it; and “TI will fear no evil” is more than ever a very song tome. It was as if, while laying His own dear hand ever so heavily upon me, He kept the enemy completely at a distance, and did not let him even approach me, encompassing me with a wall of fire... .~ For three or four weeks I was too prostrate for any consecutive prayer, or for even a text to be given me; and this was the time for realizing what “silent in love” meant (Zeph. iil. 17). And then it seemed doubly sweet when I was again able to “hold converse” with Him, He seemed, too, so often to send answers from His own word with wonderful power. One evening, (after a relapse,) I longed so much to be able to pray, but found I

WAITING “WITH” HIM. 177

was too weak for the least effort of thought, and I only looked up and said, “Lord Jesus, I am so tired!” And then He brought to my mind “rest in the Lord,” with its lovely marginal reading, “de sé/en¢ to the Lord,” and so I just was silent to Him, and He seemed to overflow me with perfect peace, in the sense of His own perfect love. It was worth anything to lie and think that it might be really “the Master’s home call”; but I do think it was worth almost more to find, when the tide turned, that He had really ¢aken the will I had laid at His feet, and could and did take away all the disappointment which I had fancied must be so keen at being — turned back from the golden gates. I was more astonished at finding that He could make me quite as glad and willing to live and suffer, as to go straight away to heaven, than at anything, I think. And it is just the same now. I have no idea how long I may have to wait, for (though not now ill, but only invalided), what with relapses and results, 1am making very slow progress, and not likely to be able for any sort of work for months yet: but I do so feel the truth of “‘ blessed are they that wazt for Him.” It seems a necessary sequence of the first part of the verse, “therefore will the Lord wait,” for waiting /or Him is waiting with Him. I am breaking rules in writing so much, but I could not help wanting to tell you how very kind He has been to me, and I don’t think any Christian could be more utterly unworthy than I of such gentle, gracious dealing. I doubted and mistrusted Him for so many years, and what I used to call “terrible conflict” I now see to have been simple unbelief.

‘ It is so nice to meet those with whom one is in full sympathy. One meets so many who only go

N such a little way; I mean really Christians, yet taking such faint interest in Christ’s cause and kingdom, all alive as to art, or music, or general on-goings, yet not seeming to feel the music of His name. One does so long for all who are looking to Him for salvation to be “true-hearted, whole-hearted.” And I have been thinking how inevitably such half-hearted Christians will be at a disadvantage when ‘He cometh,” as compared with those whose whole gladness is from Him only, and whose whole interests are centred in His kingdom and that which advances it.

With the return of health came a return to work. Her quick sympathy and loving help, by word and by letter, can hardly be represented. “Aunt Fanny always understands me” indicates the source of her influence. Pencil notes of hers, which are really treasures, lie before me, but only glimpses may be given.

(In the train) September 29, 1875.
. My own DEAR “LITTLE THING”, —

I have been thinking so much and so sadly of the hint you gave me.... We must be much in prayer about it. For yourself, dear little thing, whatever the zear bothers or the far griefs may be, you and all your “matters” are in the dear Saviour’s hand, and He says, “My grace is sufficient for thee,” and I like to take a still simpler Saxon word and say, “My grace is quite enough for thee.” Yes, “quite enough,” dear, for all the sorrows and all the trials, little ones as well as great, and all the weakness and all the insufficiency and all the coldness and hardness of heart, guéfe enough for you in spite of all!

(Zo the same.)

Dearest “LITTLE THING”, —

Let the Lord lead you, Him have you altogether. And, dear pet, blessing hardly ever comes alone; if He has the joy of winning you altogether for Himself, He won’t stop there, He will do more, He is doing so here. I do trust two of the servants are resting and trusting, and I quite hope the gardener has laid hold on eternal life; and I am expecting more for the angels to rejoice over.... I feel most deeply for you. Keep very close to Jesus, my darling, and ask Him never to let you take back what you have now given Him. Be His entirely, without any reserve, and He will be yours entirely.

My own “LitTLe THING”, —

If you knew how glad we all are! But, better still, I know Jesus is glad. He wanted you, or He would not have drawn you. And now, dearie, just ves¢ in Him. ‘Listen to all He has to say, and you will find He has “somewhat to say to thee” every time you open His word. Listen, and obey whatever He says (John ii. 5). Mr. Mountain said, “our souls should be like aspen leaves, responsive to the least breath of the Spirit.” Dear little thing, be one of the Lord’s aspen leaves; don’t wait for great strong blasts, but yield to the least whisper from Him of ‘this is the way, walk ye in it.” And, now, expect great things! You don’t know what

He is going to astonish you with. ‘Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it.” Go to work for Him at once, put your little sickle in, and see if the Lord does not make the sheaves fall before it! Don’t hold back from letting Him use you. Your blessing will probably, if you are quite faithful with it, result in fresh blessing all around you to those who have been blessed already, and who knows what to those who do not yet know the fulness of the blessing! Keep trusting the Lord Jesus, or rather let Him keep you trusting, and draw every word from Him; ask Him always, all day long, what to do, what to say. Pray Mr. Aitken’s prayer: “Lord, take my lips and speak through them; take my mind and think through it; take my heart and set it on fire!” Your loving aunt.

P.S. — Yes, sing for Jesus! do all in the name of the

Lord Jesus Christ.

(To GC, £1)
DEAR CLEMENT, —

You are all alone, so I must send you a line. However, you will not find it very dismal in this lovely weather and the bright look out of seeing your dear ones. Last evening I was at a young women’s meeting, and asked to sing, so I prayed the dear Master would let me bring them a message of song from Himself. There are so many “all for Jesus” Christians here. Seriously, dear Clement, if that is indeed our heart’s motto, we find that Jesus zs all for us, and all in all to us. I hit upon two little texts yesterday which fitted together beautifully, First, a prayer, “Do Thou for me, O Lord,” did you ever notice it? “do Thou,” just whatever wants doing for us or in us, just whatever we “DON’T HOLD BACK!” 18i

cannot do at all for ourselves. Then, if we really pray this, we shall follow it up with “God that performeth all things forme!” Think of Ais simply doing every thing for you and me. What can we wish more?

Your loving aunt.

“Don’t hold back from letting Him use you!” Loyal words, often repeated. A friend in Leamington remembers showing F. R. H. a letter she had received from Miss Weston, asking her to write “Monthly Letters for Seamen.” Frances read the letter and said to Mrs. B., “What are you going to do? Accept it of course!”

Mrs. B. “I am not fit for such a work. I
know nothing of ships and sailors.”

F, “If you reject it, God does not want for instruments to do His work; don’t shrink from the honour He puts upon you.”

Such was her faithful encouragement.

(Zo — — .)
ASHLEY Moor, September 1875.

I can hardly say I am sorry for you, dear friend, although you tell me of suffering and trial, and although I feel very much for you in it; because I am so sure the Master is leading you by the right way, and only means it to issue in all the more blessing. What mistakes we should make if we had the choosing, and marked out nice smooth paths for our friends! It has struck me too, very much lately, that the Lord’s most used and blessed

182 MEMORTALS OF F. R. #.

workers are always almost weighted in some way or other. I don’t know one who, to our limited view, is not working under weights and hindrances of some sort, contrasting with mere professors who seem so much more favourably placed for what they dowt¢tdo...

I am so very glad that He did not answer prayer for my recovery all those eight months of illness; why I should have missed all sorts of blessing and precious teaching if He had! But when one feels that He Himself gives ‘‘the prayer of faith,” then I would pray it “nothing doubting.”

After the 14th, my address will be Post Office, Whitby, Yorkshire. I am so thankful and rejoiced at what you tell me about the two ladies; it is so gracious of Him to use my hymns. Yours, in His grace and love.

In the autumn of 1875 Frances went to Whitby with Mr. and Mrs. Shaw; ex route she visited Miss Sadler and her sister, the friends of early days. She also enjoyed a visit to York Minster, and a pleasant interview with Dr. Dykes.

It was at Whitby she heard, in the noon prayer meeting, the petition of a working man, “Father, we know the reality of Jesus Christ.” The same evening she wrote the poem: “Reality, Reality, Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me.”

(70. C.)

Wuitsy, September. -.. So singular! you know I have not been able to write verses at all for a long time, but reading a naughty article in set me going, and I wrote “Without Carefulness.” Curiously enough, it was written just in time for the International Women’s Christian Association Conference at New York. I was invited to this, and if I could not come, to write a poem to be read at it. I was going to answer “I can’t write a line,” when this came to me, and it will reach the committee just in time, though I did not write it with that intention. Then Mr. Shaw lent a copy to a friend, and reply came asking permission by telegraph to use it at another Conference. Had the article reached me a day later, it would have been too late for both!

Does not this look like God’s hand? It seemed like coming back into the stream again, out of the shadowy pool of silent waiting. Somehow, I don’t feel enough physical strength to be at all eager to get into the current aE Present. .F ve 6

Wuitsy, October, 1875.

.. I hope to be at home the end of next week (but don’t publish it, as I can’t see everybody immediately on arriving).

Mamma is better, but has been so ill that it was a question whether she could reach England. I am so thankful for her.

For myself, I have not been ill, though often poorly, since my last relapse in June; but I decidedly do not get strong, and am not nearly so strong as before my illness, even under these most favourable circumstances of bracing air, and nobody that mus¢ be seen, and nothing that must be done; so I am hardly likely to get any eet ie eeenenre ae ems memes eS stronger at Leamington. I can do a little, write an hour or two, see one or two people, sing one song, go to church once on Sunday and subside all the rest of the day; but that is the length of my tether. I came upon some verses which seem just to express it.

*T am not eager, bold, or strong,
All that is past; -
I’m ready zot to do,
At last, at last.

My half-day’s work is almost done,
*Tis all my part;
I bring my patient God
A patient heart.”

For I am quite satisfied to do Aalfday’s work henceforth, if He pleases; and well I may be when I have plenty of proof that He can make a ha/fhour’s work worth a whole day’s if He will: yes, or half-a-minute’s either!

... So curious your praise meeting (Young Women’s Christian Association) being November roth, for it will be the anniversary of my very worst day last year. You can’t think how much I am looking forward to being at a meeting again, and to seeing you, and a few other special Y. W. C. A.’s. But I shall always have an idea that I was prayed back from the golden gates! I can’t think why God always so graciously lets me see such heaps of reasons for every trial He sends me. Why, as to this year of calling apart, I wouldn’t have done without it if I could, and I couldn’t have done without it if I would; it seems to me a consummately wisely sent and wisely timed trial (only that I hardly like to use that word for it, except perhaps as regards the physical pain). I want to tell everybody, now, that they need “fear xo evil.”

On page 5 we have already referred to our dear father’s curate, Rev. F. Jeffery, and his recollection of the early birthday crown of bay-leaves. That reference will make clear the allusions in the following letter.

December, 1875.
DEAR MR. JEFFERY, —

If you only knew the gush of early recollections your beautiful little verses * brought up! my birthday wreaths, and dear papa’s and mamma’s birthday kisses and wishes,

* The following are the verses referred to.

To F. R. H., on Her Birthday, December 14th, 1875. “Non sine Diis animosus infans.” — Horace.

FANNY, canst thou still remember
How, of old, they kept this day?

How they marked thy fourth December,
Crowning thee with wreath of bay?

*€Child belov’d, these leaves poetic
Hence shall aye to thee belong,

Wear them as a wreath prophetic
Of the Ministry of Song.”

Say not now thy task is ended;
Sing the lovely, pure, and true

Sing until thy verse is blended With the Song for ever new, which I always felt meant a great deal more than I could possibly understand. And now the Lord hath led me, not quite, but pretty nearly, the “forty years,” though only the very old friends give me credit for much beyond thirty.

How kind of you to recollect the little chit! And how Tshould like to thank you personally for the pleasant remembrance! But I must tell you how refreshing it is, quite apart from the sentiment, to come across such trochaics. It is rarely that I light on such, among the thousands of hymns I have gone over in my work of “Songs of Grace and Glory”; yours have such a perfect ringing rhythm as very few seem to hit upon now-a-day.

I have just begun to work a little, as a sort of “half timer” (to use the factory expression), after twelve months of ‘calling apart”: typhoid fever, which, witn relapses and results, kept me ill for eight months, and part of the time very suffering, and then four months of very slow convalescence. But it has been the most precious year of my life to me. It is worth any suffering to prove for oneself the truth of “when thou passest through the waters I will be with thee,” and worth being turned back (as it seemed) from the very golden gates, if one may but “tell of His faithfulness.” It is so real,

Your own signature, dear Mr. Jeffery, makes the verses doubly valuable, written “in the shadow” (your darkness is the shadow of His hand). I do feel so much for you in your blindness! How I should like to come and sing to you! My dear mother is very bright in spirits but very suffering in body.

Yours affectionately.

PyrMONT VILLA, December 13, 1875.

My pEar E x

Nothing surprised me so much as, and nothing pleased me more than, your beautiful flowers and card. I have had a battle with mamma as to where they are to go; she thinks them too good for her room, where I wanted to have the pleasure of putting them. However, I think I have won! Thank you so much for them. I must tell you why they are such special pleasure: because I don’t think you would have sent them if you had just simply hated all I said the other day. Dear — — , I never told you, but you can’t think how I have longed for you ever since I first saw you. I have prayed for you again and again. I want you for Jesus! It is not only that I want you to be safe in Him, I do want that; but I want you to be altogether His own, knowing all the sweet peace of being His very own, and using all your bright days for Him. I want you to be “all for Jesus.” Ido so long for you to give Him your heart and life now, so that you might never have the terrible sorrow of having only a death-bed to give Him! And I am sure He wants you; really and truly now, at this very moment, is waiting for you, and wanting you to come to Him and let Him show you His “exceeding great love.” There are so few comparatively that are on His side: won’t you be one? If you could see Him now, this minute, wating for you, you wouldn’t like to keep Him waiting Iam sure; and you wouldn’t and cow/dn’t think about anything else till you had heard what He, Jesus, your real Saviour, wanted to say to you. Dear child, I have asked my own dear Master to give me some token of His love on my birthday: shall it be this, that He will call you, so call you that you shall come to Him

and “find rest” P
Your loving friend.

Mention should be made of the kindness of many Leamington friends constantly shown to both our dear mother and Frances. But it is impossible even to give outline of any such, or the names of most valued friends, whose ceaseless ministry threw flowers of sympathy on paths of weariness and suffering.