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 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924051327504 
 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 .OF 
 
 MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
Crown Svo, fc. 6d. , 
 
 PLEASANT FRUITS; or, Records of the Cottage 
 and the Class. By Maria V. G. Ha vergal. 
 
 With Frontispiece, crown Svo, Is. Gd. ; paper cover, Is., 
 
 OUTLINES OF A GENTLE LIFE. Memorials 
 
 of Ellen P. Shaw. Edited by her Sister, Maria V. 
 G. Ha VERGAL. 
 
 Crown Svo, Is., 
 
 CRIPPLE JOSEPH: A Story of Grace. By 
 Maria V.'G. Havergal. 
 
 *jt* TIte firq/lt on the sale of this hook wilt be given to 
 iJie Havergal hall Scltools, Lijmrick. 
 
 VON DO N.- 
 JAMES NISBET Sfi CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. 
 
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 MARIA VERNON GRAHAM HAYERGAL, 
 
 Edited by her Sisteu, 
 J. MIRIAM CRANE, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " EECORDS OF THE LIFE OF THE REV. WM. ti. HAVERCA! , M.A." 
 
 "Ye read her story. 
 Take home the lesson with a spirit-smile; 
 Darkness and mystery a little while, 
 
 Then — light and glory, 
 And ministry 'mid saint and seraph band. 
 And service of high praise in the eternal land ! " 
 
 — F. R. Havekgal, 
 
 er^itti CCfjousanti. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. 
 
 1888. 
 
MORRISON AND GIBB, EDINBURGH. 
 PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE. 
 
 The Portrait in this volume is reproduced from a Photograph taken 
 by Messrs. Elliott &* -Fry, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It seems fitting that some record should be made 
 of the writer of the " Memorials " of our gifted 
 sister, which has attained such an unusual circula- 
 tion ; the biographer herself having also written 
 other pleasant pages, and being well known as 
 an active and faithful Christian worker. 
 
 And this my dear sister, Maria V. G. Havergal, 
 herself felt, when two years ago she asked me 
 to promise to write her life, in the event of her 
 decease. I declined doing so, as I then thought 
 it unlikely that I should be the survivor. 
 
 Last year, when she felt the seeds of death again 
 springing up within her, the request was renewed. I 
 then advised her to write an Autobiography, saying 
 it would probably be more edifying, and certainly 
 more amusing than anything I could write. Hence 
 the present volume, which I feel sure will be wel- 
 comed by many known and unknown friends. 
 
 As the Autobiography is bv no means consecu- 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 tive, I have added Journals and Letters, which 
 supply some of the missing links, and outline her 
 ceaseless activities. Miss Clay, who for ten- years 
 was her devoted fellow-labourer in Bewdley, has 
 kindly contributed a notice of that period. 
 
 I need not dwell on my sister's affectionate, 
 sympathetic, generous, and energetic character, as 
 her own records fully reveal it. 
 
 She exemplified in her life the epitome of St. 
 James, " Pure religion and ■ undefiled before God 
 and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and 
 widows in their affliction, and to keep himself 
 unspotted from the world." To use her own 
 expression, it was " the one passion " of her life to 
 visit the sick and needy, relieving not only their 
 temporal but their spiritual necessities. By hold- 
 ing forth the Word of life, the glorious gospel of 
 -the only Redeemer, she was the means of turning 
 many to righteousness, who with her will shine in 
 the heavenly kingdom "as the stars for ever and 
 ever." 
 
 J. Miriam Ckane. 
 
 Weston-super-Mare, 
 October 1SS7. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. EARLY DAYS I 
 
 II. SCHOOL LIFE 1 5 
 
 III. HOME LIFE AFTER SCHOOL 35 
 
 IV. RECORDS OF MY MOTHER, 184S-184S. ... 56 
 
 V. THE sisters' HOME AT THE MUMBLES. ... 66 
 
 VI. SUFFERING AND SUPPORT. 8S 
 
 Vn. FROM SIDMOUTH TO WALES 100 
 
 Virl. VARIOUS INSTANCES OF GOD'S IMPULSES IN MY LIFE. 135 
 
 TEN YEARS IN BEWDl.EY. BY MISS ELIZABETH CLAY. . 154 
 EXTRACTS FROM MISS S. HEAD'S JOURNAL RESPECTING 
 
 M. V. G. 11. 'S STAY IN THE LAKE DISTRICT. . . 176 
 
 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO AIX-LES-BAINS AND SWITZERLAND 
 
 IN 1882 rS; 
 
 DIARIES FROM 1S83 TO 18S7 245 
 
 THE HAVERGAL ALBUM 270 
 
 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL 273 
 
 CLOSING SCENES. BY J. M. CRANE 304 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS OF SYMPATHY TO .M. V. G. H.'s 
 
 SISIER, J. M. C 322 
 
 POETRY. BY M. V. G. 11. , , 328 
 
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
 
 OF 
 
 MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY DAYS. 
 
 " Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my 
 life." — Ps. xxiii. 6. 
 
 " We have turned every one to his own way." — ISA. liii. 6. 
 
 " Goodness and mercy," and our " own way," are 
 the epitome' of my life. The days of that life 
 are closing, and it is toward eveningtide — the 
 shadows are merging into a sunset glow. Looking 
 backwards from the home-height nearly gained, 
 the evening radiancy lights- up the pathway — the 
 windings, the by-ways, .the short cuts, the snares, 
 " the pitfalls, and all the mistakes of my " own way." 
 And again — I see the golden line of God's ever- 
 lasting, ever overruling love ; I see the " right 
 
 paths " in which He has safely led me, and the 
 A 
 
2 A UTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HA VERGAL. 
 
 goodness and mercy which has surely followed me. 
 And now, tarrying as it were in the land of Beulah, 
 I desire to write down recollections of the past ; 
 and may all I write be to the praise of the glory of 
 His grace ! 
 
 My greatest spiritual mercy has been the expeii' 
 ence of God's everlasting love. ." Yea, I have loved 
 thee with an everlasting love ; therefore with loving- 
 kindness have I drawn thee " (Jer. xxxi. 3). My 
 greatest temporal mercy was having wise, loving, 
 holy parents, whose training has been a life-long 
 fence ; but I too often chose my own way, and 
 long delayed giving up my will wholly to the Lord. 
 
 Our Church collect exactly expresses the desire 
 that would have saved many a mistake : — " O God, 
 forasmuch as without Thee we are not able to 
 please Thee, mercifully grant that Thy Holy Spirit 
 may in all things direct and rule our hearts." 
 
 Still I can, and do humbly and heartily, as one of 
 His unworthy servants, join in the thanksgiving : — 
 " We bless Thee for our creation, preservation, and 
 all the blessings of this life, but above all for Thine 
 inestimable love in the redemption of the world by 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, for the means of grace and 
 for the hope of glory." 
 
 I was born at Coaley Vicarage in Gloucestershire 
 on November 15, 1821, being the third child of the 
 Rev. William H. Havergal and his wife, Jane. , I 
 
COALEY VICARAGE. 
 
 was christened on March 19 by the Rev. Jeremiah 
 Smith, author of two volumes of sermons and some 
 family prayers. When still an infant, my father 
 left this sole charge for Astley, Worcestershire. I 
 never revisited my birthplace till after his death in 
 1870. My father's footprints shone out clearly 
 after fifty years. Their record I wrote for my 
 father's Memoir by my sister Miriam, chap, iv.^ 
 My vivid realization of original sin was singular 
 when at fifty years old I gazed on the window of 
 the room where I was born and the churchyard 
 gate through which I was carried to my baptism. 
 Certainly my own childish memories prove that / 
 was not regenerated in baptism. 
 
 In my Coaley rambles I met the old man who 
 remembered my father at the Vicarage, and he told 
 me of his liberality when a poor curate. " You 
 feature your father uncommon. Miss ! Well, he 
 was a good-giving and good-living man. Ah, yes ! 
 I remember when you were born. Master sent me 
 late at night some nine or ten miles to fetch your 
 iiurse. Says he. What's your charge, James ? — 
 Anything, sir. — There's six shillings. Well, that 
 was handsome and no mistake ! Ah, the folks did 
 fill the church then, and this lane was full of gigs 
 
 ' Chap. iv. of Records of the Life of the Rev. William H, Havergal, 
 by his daughter, J. Miriam Crane, published at Home Words Office, 
 7 Paternoster Square. 
 
4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V, G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 and carts awaiting on Sundays. He told us plain 
 out, of Christ, and just how a man could get to 
 glory ; and he was a musicianer, such a fine voice 
 to be sure. Why, he made tunes in his headpiece, 
 and made a new hymn-book." 
 
 My first remembrance at Astley Rectory was 
 suffering, when about two years old ; it was night, 
 and I remember being frightened with some leeches 
 applied by an old Betty ! and longing to get to my 
 loving mother's arms. Yes, I remember the nursing 
 and the rocking chair (still existing at Winterdyne); 
 and far more do I remember the loving, lovely face 
 of my mother. 
 
 My next distinct memory was faith. I may have 
 been four years old when I broke a large pane in 
 the dining-room window. I was alone. I can see 
 now the black horse-hair sofa where I knelt down 
 crying, " Please, God, mend the window ! " Then, 
 still kneeling, I looked back, verily expecting to 
 see it done ! Again I prayed, fearing the punish- 
 ment when found out. I do not think-that getting 
 no answer disturbed my childish faith, for I was 
 not punished. 
 
 My Sunday memories stand out most clearly 
 from six years old. We then wore green silk 
 bonnets and pretty pink gingham frocks with fine 
 cambric frills, plaited by our ironer, Ann Lane. 
 At eight o'clock the church tenor bell rang out. 
 
SUNDA Y MEMORIES. 
 
 Punctually at a quarter-past eight all assembled 
 for prayers, the youngest child sitting on father's 
 knee. He "always read a Sunday Psalm, i.e. having 
 some reference to holy worship. Then he gave the 
 child on his knee the Church missionary plate ; 
 this was carried round for pence and half-pence ; 
 and joy when a visitor's shilling brightened the 
 coppers ! And then my father prayed for God's 
 blessing on the missionaries and the heathen. (His 
 first sermon for the Church Missionary Society was 
 in 1825, and the record of his Church Missionary 
 Society sermons and speeches as a pioneer in 
 Devon, Cornwall, and Yorkshire are full of interest.) 
 The money on the plate was changed into silver, 
 and put in the missionary box, which often yielded 
 four or five pounds per annum. 
 
 I was too young to go to the Sunday school 
 like my eldest sister Miriam did, but to sit by dear 
 mother at church was considered a treat and not a 
 bore. Even the Sunday dinner had example in its 
 arrangement. Beef and chickens, roasted on Satur- 
 day, potatoes, apple tart, and custard, all prepared 
 then. So the maids went to church comfortably 
 twice as we did. (A very homely parenthesis to 
 mistresses ! — Do see that no dishes are washed 
 up on Sunday. Early rising on Monday sets all 
 straight.) Oh that lodgers . in pleasant seaside 
 holidays would " consider their ways " and abstain 
 
6 A UTOBIOGHAFHY OF MARIA V. G. HA VERGAL. 
 
 from hot dinners and suppers, which make poor 
 maidens say, " Oh, there is no Sunday for us all the 
 season ! " On Sunday afternoons we might sif in 
 the pleasant garden, under the yew trees, or in the 
 shrubbery where the arbutus and evergreens hid us 
 cosily. The churchyard, too, had its little hiding- 
 places, behind the tombs ; and there we sometimes 
 stood and watched the open graves and the coffins 
 put in — those mysteries to little minds, wisely dis- 
 pelled by our mother taking us to see some child 
 in its happy sleep of death ; and so the thought of 
 "Jesus hushing the sick child to sleep, and that 
 there would be no medicine and no doctors in 
 heaven, and only sweet songs and happy days," 
 took away all fear of dying. Four o'clock in the 
 summer was our "happy time" with mother — Bible 
 texts said over. Dr. Watts' Divine and Moral Songs, 
 or Ann Taylor's unsurpassed Hymns for Infant 
 Minds. Wholesome divinity therein ! crumbs of 
 sweet comfort that have fed me all my journey, 
 ever and anon chiming their gospel truths. I can 
 say those books, now, from end to end I 
 
 When older, collects, catechism, and the epistle 
 or gospel learnt, and some of the morning sermon 
 talked over. After tea, service at six ; then the 
 garden walk, and supper from gooseberry and 
 currant trees, and milk from Lily and Rose, our 
 dear cows ; and as the holy light faded, our mother's 
 
MV MOTHER'S BIBLE. 
 
 good-night words and prayer, forgotten maybe, 
 but tiny seeds sown for ever — that Sunday was a 
 happy, pleasant day, " the best of all the seven." 
 
 One hymn in mother's Bible I have never seen 
 elsewhere — it was given her by the Rev. John 
 East of Bath :— 
 
 " And is the Sabbath come ? 
 And have we still a day 
 To mind our everlasting home. 
 To sing, and read, and pray? 
 
 Then let us up with speed. 
 
 The work is very great ; 
 And beg of God our soiUs to feed 
 
 With never-dying meat. 
 
 That we may strengthened be 
 
 To run the heavenly road, 
 Until at last we come to Thee, 
 
 Our Saviour and our God. 
 
 Ever with Thee to spend, 
 
 With saints in perfect light, 
 A Sabbath that shall never end, 
 
 A day that has no night.'' 
 
 Mother's large Bible always lay on the table in 
 her room. Often I wondered why at five o'clock 
 every afternoon she went into her room and locked 
 the door till nearly tea-time at six. At last I tried 
 the door, and it was not locked, — mother was 
 reading her Bible 1 That made me think more of 
 the Bible than ever before. 
 
8 AUTOBIOGRATHY OF MARIA V. G. HA VEROAL 
 
 A few incidents from my fifth to my ninth year, 
 recalling my parents' training and my happy Astley 
 days,, still present themselves to my mind. 
 
 Our little week-day lessons were taken by dear 
 mother, except when tall sister Miriam came from 
 school for her holidays. How clever we thotight 
 her, and what pains she took with our writing ! My 
 brother Henry went to school ; so gentle sister 
 Ellen, my junior, was my dearly loved companion. 
 We were very different : " Good little Ellen," or 
 " Papa's harmless dove," just describes her. Even 
 then she would tastefully dress her dolls and quietly 
 amuse he/self; while my restless activity fed the 
 poultry and hushed the chickens to, sleep under my 
 hand. I had sundry pets, including nests of field- 
 mice, and I even loved the toad that always came 
 for bread and butter at tea-time. Busily gardening, 
 helping mother sow the seeds in our garden-beds, 
 in which the dear old larkspur, bachelor's button, 
 Canterbury bells, and marigolds grew happily to- 
 gether ; and the old York' and Lancaster, the 
 cinnamon, and China roses, — not tied martyr- 
 like to stakes, but twining with honeysuckle and 
 jessamine. 
 
 And even then mother taught us useful ways ; 
 we could beat the eggs for cakes and custards, and 
 strip the fruit for pies, and pare the apples for those 
 "Astley apple turn-overs" I never see now. •.We 
 
MY FATHER'S WAYS. 
 
 were taught to care for the poor people, and fill 
 their cans with milk or broth, and take little baskets 
 of pudding to sick folk. Not often, but sometimes, 
 we went with father on his visits of comfort, arid we 
 saw how kindly he shook hands, how gentle his 
 ways, and then he felt the invalid's pulse and saw 
 about the medicine, for he was skilful, and the 
 parish doctor thanked him for saving him visits ; 
 and then he read to them Bible comfort, and 
 prayed ! Even the cats and dogs knew his step, 
 and many a paper of game or little bones has he 
 taken to some poor Betty or Molly's cat ! 
 
 My father's early rising and his punctuality are 
 stereotyped in all our ways and likings. Our home- 
 call bell went with the clock, and our meals came 
 to a minute, which saved both temper and time. 
 Order and neatness reigned in our rooms ; father's 
 large desk was a wonder when he sometimes opened 
 the inner lid. I can see it now: the box with 
 " sacramental alms," the nook for memorandums, 
 the box of jujubes for Sundays; the wonderful 
 sensitive fish and some C. M. S. curiosities were 
 shown us at times. 
 
 I cannot remember any good thoughts when a 
 child ; there was no spark of love or holy desire, 
 not even a wish to go to heaven. For a child's soul 
 is either dead or alive, either quickened by God's 
 Spirit or asleep in original sin. Natural amiability 
 
10 AUrOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 and even obedience to parents may exist without 
 any grace. My first conscious impression was one 
 Sunday night, after Ellen and I were in bed. My 
 mother came and sat down by us and spoke with 
 tender earnestness of God, of Christ, of heaven, of 
 hell, — her words I forget, but they roused me, and 
 I cried, and felt "Mamma and Ellen love God and 
 are quite sure to go to heaven, but I am not fit ; 
 I can't love God a bit." 
 
 When six years old, a great event came— going 
 to visit Grandmother Havergal at High Wycombe. 
 Places then were secured days before, in the day or 
 night coach, from Worcester to London, a twelve 
 hours' journey. Father took me ; the yellow post- 
 chaise and a postilion in blue came from the 
 " Hundred House '' for the eleven miles' drive, 
 the coach leaving at 6 P.M. The six horses up, 
 Broadway Hill impressed me ; still more the moon 
 shining through a wood, and I thought the trees 
 were running from us. At Oxford, the midnight 
 supper and the guard's horn hurry us to our places, 
 and then a nap on father's arm till the horn awoke 
 me at the " Red Lion," Wycombe, about 3 A.M. 
 
 My Wycombe memories are pleasant, and I soon 
 loved my wise and holy grandmother, whom my 
 father called " the pole star of his life." 
 
 Grandmother was an early riser, so was I. From 
 six to seven she always sat by a round table with a 
 
GRAND MO THER'S MED IT A TIONS. 1 1 
 
 green baize cloth, near the window, reading her 
 Bible. I would run off and peep again — " Why ever 
 did grandmother shut her eyes ? Was she sleepy ? " 
 so I asked. " I am meditating, — run away and 
 play." " Meditating " was not in my spelling-book, 
 and old Nanny did not know. One day grand- 
 mother told me all about it ; so I thought God 
 must be very near her, when she reads all those 
 Psalms and chapters, and that " meditation " was 
 their talk together afterwards. 
 
 I looked in some brown books with red leather 
 backs, — Harvey's Meditations, but the words were 
 too hard. 
 
 Father did not stay long, — he left some large 
 books, for all her life grandmother was a great 
 reader. She gave me lessons in French, and told 
 me of her school-life in a French convent, and when 
 the Revolution came, about her escape in an open 
 boat from Calais. The Lady Abbess and the Sisters 
 came to England. Her letters were beautiful, and 
 had much of the spirit of the Port Royalists. But 
 it was the convent life that strengthened grand- 
 mother in the Protestant faith ; she had seen the 
 reality, and so detested what our Church cal}s 
 " blasphemous fables and dangerous deceits." I was 
 quite sure I never would pray to a woman, and 
 how could the Virgin Mary hear all over the world 1 
 It was so kind of Jesus to die for me, and as I 
 
12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL, 
 
 could not find out the Virgin ever did that or 
 anything else for me, I decided I would never be 
 a Roman Catholic. 
 
 My early Protestant notions were confirmed in 
 after life by residence in Ireland and France. 
 
 On Sunday my grandmother left early to super- 
 intend the church Sunday school. - She was one of 
 the first Sunday-school teachers in England, and 
 was punctually at her post by 9 A.M., till her 
 seventy-second year ! She was the honoured friend 
 of the Rev. Charles Bradley, that " prince of 
 sermon - writers ;" and as the dozen and more 
 little B.'s came into this troublesome world, the 
 senior babies were trotted off to her care for some 
 days ! The successor. Rev. G. W., also needed 
 the same nursery relief ; and I remember well seeing 
 grandmother packing fowls and ham into a large 
 basket for the curate's table. (Why should not 
 a Saturday's basket always find its way to all bur 
 good working curates from squires and well-to-do 
 people ?) 
 
 Nanny was the very type of the good old 
 domestic, — living sixty years in the family, and 
 retiring with a pent ion into an almshouse. Nanny 
 talked to me about " Master William," then my 
 father, and how he was called " curly rosy Willie 
 Havergal." One of those curls is by me, and 
 singularly matches the curls of his daughter Frances 
 
MY FIRST GOVERNESS. 13 
 
 (though his hair became dark). Nanny told me 
 " the naughtiest thing Master Willie ever did, was 
 taking the cat to bed ! " Also how wonderfully the 
 same Willie played on the big organ iat Wycombe 
 Church. 
 
 A chamber organ was grandpapa H.'s amuse- 
 ment, and my chief memory of him is, his singing 
 and playing on it ; and then his pennies for me 
 to buy gingerbread on market days. I thought 
 " Alderman Havergal " sounded grand. Once he 
 drove me in a gig to Windsor. My memory" must 
 be good, for I could describe it all : the silver 
 drawing-room and tables, and the flags in St. 
 George's Chapel, impressed me most, and there 
 I first heard a real anthem, and " very heavenly " 
 was my childish verdict. 
 
 That Wycombe visit was repeated, and led to 
 frequent correspondence with my honoured grand- 
 mother, whose wise judgment in all things was 
 a very bulwark to me in after life. 
 
 Returning home, a governess. Miss Bulgin, was 
 the next event. Of course sister Ellen was good ; 
 she always was ! and I tried to be so, and she gave 
 me two prizes for good conduct, — Thomson's 
 Seasons and Johnson's Rasselas. 
 
 My governess was truly happy and kindly treated, 
 and father helped her in her old age. How very 
 little makes sunshine in the hfe of a governess ! 
 
14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 My sister Miriam was then at Great Campden 
 House, Kensington. My father said, " I cannot 
 give you fortunes, but I can give you good 
 educations." Her school tales riveted me, and 
 to find that Signer Guazzaroni taught the young 
 Princess Victoria Itah'an, and then came to 
 Great Campden House and gave lessons to my 
 sister, seemed wonderful. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 SCHOOL LIFE.' 
 
 In August 1833, when nearly twelve years old, I 
 joined my sister Miriam at Great Campden House 
 From a quiet country rectory to a London school 
 with from sixty to eighty girls, was a change. 
 
 (I have written a description of my life there, and 
 it was printed in the Sunday at Home in 1863. I 
 received'many kind letters from old Campdenites 
 and the Dowager Countess of Carnarvon, thank- 
 ing me for my notice of the lovely Juliana 
 Howard.) 
 
 Some further details occur to me. One ex- 
 cellent idea was, offering as a privilege a quiet 
 half- hour's retirement to any pupil who really 
 wished for such time to read and pray. It 
 was unobtrusively done, — a pencil note, laid on 
 our dear Madame Teed's table, ensured an inter- 
 view in her room — a very sanctum, a holy place 
 where the Good Shepherd often met and folded 
 the little ones. If our desire seemed sincere, our 
 name, the hour and the name of the room, was 
 
i6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 entered on a card and kept in our Bibles as our 
 passport to quietly leaving the schoolrooms. Mine 
 is extant — 
 
 MARIA HAVERGAL, 
 11^ to 12 d clock. 
 
 Queen Anne's Room. 
 
 "fflto&J in (5ra«." 
 
 This was principally for the senior girls, the 
 younger ones had " happy times " with' one or 
 other of the teachers or elder girls. 
 
 The plan of motherhood was good,— the elder 
 girls taking kindly charge of the preparation of 
 lessons, and the conduct- of two or three little 
 ones. My sister Miriam was mother to Charlotte 
 Long (Mrs. Howard of Greystoke Castle), M. A. 
 Jessop, and myself 
 
 Our studies were more simple than in these days 
 of brain-pressing torture ! Our repetition lessons 
 were heard before breakfast, in the summer at 
 seven, when we walked up and down the broad 
 
POETICAL REPETITIONS. 17 
 
 gravel walk, by the side of our various teachers, 
 repeating Magnall's Questions, Guy's Geography, 
 Lindley Murray's Grammar, and once a week 
 repetition of poetry. Cowper's Task, Wordsworth 
 and Milton, and scraps from Shakespeare. We 
 brought a variety in the "Oxford Prize Poems," con- 
 taining Bishop Heber's Palestine, and Mrs. Hemans' 
 and also Miss Emra's poems. Eighty lines was an 
 average task. I remember a sensation, where it 
 was reported to Madame, that Miriam Havergal 
 repeated five hundred lines and Maria three 
 hundred, faultlessly, one morning. Often Miss 
 Stewart would say, " Maria, I shall hear your 
 repetition last, for a bonne boucke!' In winter we 
 made these repetitions walking up and down the 
 long schoolrooms, and so got warm for prayers at 
 eight. Breakfast over, came our morning walk, from 
 nine to ten. Our wide gravel walk, the terrace by 
 Queen Anne's Chapel, a shady wood in summer, 
 and our Httle gardens were sufficient variety. The 
 elder girls were taken twice a week to walk in 
 Kensington Gardens, or to the gravel pits, Notting 
 Hill, which was then waste, unbuilt ground. In 
 these walks, English might be spoken, the only 
 exception to our French conversation the whole 
 half-year. We dined at two, and after dinner had 
 an hour or more in the garden. 
 
 Why do not pi'ofessors give peripatetic classes 
 
i8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 in the pure air our Father means us to breathe? 
 Why do not governesses foresee the healthy impetus 
 of a turn out of the schoolroom in the midst of 
 morning lessons, opening all windows ? Twenty 
 minutes would sweep away the cobwebs of listless- 
 ness and ill-temper, and more real work would be 
 done. Rainy days were never doleful, forms and 
 tables were cleared away for a good hour's exercise 
 of games or drill ; quick martial music gave zest to 
 our jumping steps, Tor which I and others got 
 awards for doing heartily. 
 
 The religious instruction given us by Madame 
 was of no ordinary standard. Short pointed 
 remarks and questions at our morning and evening 
 prayers, weekly Bible classes on consecutive 
 subjects — types and prophecies, comparing the 
 Old and the New Testament, the Articles of our 
 Church, with Scripture references thoroughly learnt 
 — chapter and verse always given, so that a real 
 Campdenite would be her own concordance ! 
 Thankfully do I bear testimony to the value in 
 after-life of all Scripture committed to memory. 
 It was a crucial test, repeating to Madame those 
 chapters in Exodus xxv. to xxxii. about the taches 
 and loops and sockets of silver ; and the elder class 
 will remember failing in the almonds and knops and 
 branches, and Madame's dignified exit with the only 
 two lights, leaving us to repentance in the dark 1 
 
RELIGIOUS TEACHING. 19 
 
 Far deeper were Madame's appeals to our 
 consciences ; vividly did she set forth the way of 
 salvation. Most winningly has she put her arms 
 round me, when admitted to her own room, and 
 told me of Jesus' love, that He was calling me, 
 that He first loved me ; but no answering chord 
 w£is touched in my still sleeping heart. Others of 
 my age " believed in Jesus," and that unmistakeable 
 smile was theirs. I wonder if the promised sealing 
 in the forehead (Rev. vii. 3) means outwardly that 
 restful smile God's children wear? I had now 
 been nearly twelve months at school ; sister Miriam 
 had left, taking first prizes in the first classes and 
 the annual silver medal from Mons. De Riviere, 
 the drawing master. 
 
 I was fairly forward in my classes, and always 
 got marks for repetitions. Though I had no 
 musical execution, I remember my music teacher 
 bidding other girls notice M. H.'s " soft touch," and 
 how well she played chords for twelve years old. 
 
 In December 1836, when the arrangement for the 
 home journey came, I was sent to my cousin Mrs. 
 Usborne, in London, first. There I found my 
 loving Aunt Stratton, and in the pretty drawing- 
 room, my aunt and cousin told me of the wonderful 
 home secret ! A sweet baby sister had come on 
 December 14th — a little sister ! and the new pulse 
 of love awoke that eternity will never exhaust. I 
 
20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 was fifteen, and brother Frank, the youngest, was 
 seven years old; so the novelty was exceedingly 
 sweet. 
 
 I remember her christening day ; the fine 
 cambric cap, worked by Miss Ridley, and a wee 
 relic of her christening robe, are among the treasures 
 in my large F. R. H. album. The Rev. John 
 Cawood — that standard - bearer of gospel and 
 Protestant truth for fifty years at Bewdley — 
 received her into Christ's Church. Her godfather. 
 Rev. W. H. Ridley, was not present, or Lucy 
 Emra, but her other godmother, Elizabeth Cawood, 
 held the babe. It is remarkable that this god- 
 mother said (when F. was but a child), " F. R. H. 
 is an angel now, what will she be in heaven ? and 
 I believe, she will DIE SINGING," as indeed she did ! 
 
 My dear father at this time was still suffering 
 from the effects of an accident, and music was his 
 alleviation. Long before the little one could speak, 
 she would coo in time with the nursery rhymes 
 that brother Frank actually sang before he was a 
 year old. Our - father's arms and shoulders were 
 their first music-stool, and there they sang his 
 melodies to " Twinkle, twinkle, little star," " Thank 
 you, pretty cow," and others. And so our first and 
 last memories of our darling sister are those of 
 happy song. 
 
 \Note. — The next pages describing our sister 
 
LOVE OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 
 
 Ellen's school life are omitted, as they are identical 
 with those published this spring in Outlines of a 
 Gentle Life. J. Nisbet & Co.— EDITOR, J. M. C] 
 
 My love of the Beautiful nearly led me into 
 scrapes. It was against rule to leave the school- 
 room ; but having once seen some beautiful por- 
 traits in the drawing-room, I stole in for another 
 look. But one face haunted me, that of Lady 
 Juliana Howard (a former pupil), and I risked the 
 forbidden entree to gaze on my ideal. I thought 
 she must be in heaven, or she would not be painted ; 
 so Lady Juliana must be among the angels. 
 
 Another ungratified wish was to discover the 
 secret " Cats' Gallery,'' which some of the elder 
 girls had seen. Visions of purring pussies and 
 kittens ; whole baskets of them must surely live 
 there. Audaciously I ventured up to the fifth 
 storey, to find only a gallery of chests of drawers and 
 our home boxes — no pussies at all ! I noticed 
 some mysterious - looking green baize doors, but 
 did not venture to try them. Of these more anon. 
 
 It was October 1834 when we noticed one and 
 another of our schoolfellows disappeared, also a 
 governess. One morning I felt sick and hot, and my 
 teacher told me to lie still till Lizzie came. Lizzie 
 was the lady's-maid, and the confidante of all 
 the headaches. Duly at 11 A.M. Lizzie and a 
 waiter of black doses and little crusts of bread came " 
 
22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 into the schoolroom, administering the same to all 
 complainers. 
 
 l^izzie came to me and looked serious, and said, 
 " Doctor Merriman is coming soon." Pleasant name 
 and pleasant doctor ! His visit over, Lizzie and a 
 housemaid came and wrapped me in blankets, and 
 carried me up through the veritable " Cats' Gallery !" 
 The baize doors opened, and I found myself in an 
 jnner room, in the whitest of beds, and there I saw 
 the missing schoolfellows, — a pleasant introduction 
 to the scarlet fever 'hospital ! 
 
 Never, while memory lasts, shall I forget what 
 followed. An hour passed, when my dear, kind 
 Mrs. Teed came in with a tumbler of deliciously- 
 cold raspberry vinegar and water. She sat down 
 by'me, and spoke so tenderly, not much, but asked, 
 " Does my little Maria believe on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ ? " Alas ! I answered " Yes ; " and it was 
 not a sudden or excusable " Yes." For some days I 
 had planned, " If Mrs. Teed asks me again, ' Do 
 you believe ? ' I shall say ' Yes ; ' it will please her 
 so." 
 
 '' But, Maria, is there any verse that helps you 
 really to believe on Jesus ? " 
 
 "Yes ; ' Christ Jesus came into the world to save 
 sinners.' " Alas ! all this was pre-arranged by me, 
 just to deceive my kind teacher, and so get more 
 thought of by her. With a loving smile she left 
 
POOR JOSEPH. 23 
 
 me, deceived by my false profession. When that 
 dear friend came again she brought a little tract, 
 " Poor Joseph," a half-witted man, who chanced 
 to hear Dr. Calamy preach from those words I 
 had-claimed (i Tim. i. 15) : "Joseph is a sinner — 
 Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners 
 — why not poor Joseph ? " I said nothing, and I 
 clearly remember that never again had I anything 
 to say, nor had I any of the happy feelings that 
 naturally ooze out when believing is a reality. As 
 I got better, a dull remorse came ; but I was not 
 brave enough to own my fault. All those sweet 
 counsels and prayers were listlessly heard. Jesus 
 Christ was nothing to me. I had not believed in 
 Him, hence I did not even care to hear about 
 Him. 
 
 Soon pretty pink three - cornered notes came 
 upstairs from my class-mates : " We are so glad you 
 believe in Jesus ; is it not very, very happy to find 
 such a Saviour ? " and then they sent me strings of 
 promises that would have shone as pearls had my 
 eyes been opened. 
 
 My dear parents were informed of my happy 
 confession, a/ias a deceitful veil, which thickened 
 more and more darkly around me. (I perfectly 
 exonerate dear Mrs. Teed ; the Lord alone knoweth 
 what is in man.) When convalescent, I returned 
 home. I remember the thoughtful niceties for my 
 
24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 journey, but the parting prayer fell unheeded. Mrs. 
 Teed's farewell gift was a morocco pocket Testa- 
 ment. On the first page she wrote indelible words : 
 " A shepherd IS a keeper of his sheep." Simple 
 words ! but to me a life-long legacy. I have read 
 them at sea when the fog-bell was ringing, and 
 hushed the trembling passengers at midnight ; in 
 wild, lonely Irish bogs, when tracked by priest or 
 spy ; on Swiss mountains, when I have reck- 
 lessly lost the track ; or in lonely chalets, with 
 thunder crashing and lightning piercing the pines, 
 — those words were always a power. It was long 
 before I found their scripture place, in Jeremiah. 
 
 But when first given to me I heeded them not. 
 Reaching home I forgot the past, and being still 
 weak I was nursed and petted. Dear Mrs. T.eed 
 wrote me a lovely letter, which referred to my 
 supposed happiness in being a child of God. 
 
 I showed the letter to Miriam. She wisely and 
 gravely told me that she could not discover any 
 good change, and that she " had never seen me read 
 my Bible." It was quite true, and no test is so 
 sure as feeding on or neglecting God's holy Word. 
 St. Peter gives the same test : " As new-born babes, 
 desire the sincere milk of the word, that ye may 
 grow thereby" (i Pet. ii. 2). The analogy is 
 perfect. "Being born again, not of corruptible 
 seed, but of incorruptible, by the Word of God, 
 
THE WORD OF LIFE. 25 
 
 which liveth and abideth for ever." " Now ye are 
 clean through the word which I have spoken unto 
 you" (John xv. 3). The same word becoming by 
 the Holy Spirit's power the invisible seed and germ 
 of new and spiritual Hfe in the , soul, it follows that 
 the life must be nourished and increased by the 
 same means — the Word. " Man shall not live by 
 bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out 
 of the mouth of God " (Matt. iv. 4). Our Lord 
 confirms this : " The words that I speak unto you, 
 they are spirit and they are life ;" and in His last 
 prayer, " I have given them Thy word " (John 
 xvii. 14). Hence with children, or giants in the 
 faith, who grumble at their experience and moan 
 over their shortcomings, the question comes — are 
 you honestly " desiring," " searching," meditating on 
 holy Scripture pure and simple ? 
 
 No special occurrence marks the next few 
 months, till my return to Campden House. It 
 was delightful to return, for I deeply loved and 
 reverenced Mrs. Teed, and also had many school 
 friends. Being good-natured, I often helped some 
 to whom our Church Articles and Scripture refer- 
 ences, and also our chronology lessons, were rather 
 a trouble. No books but Bibles were allowed in 
 our bedrooms, and this prevented any early study,but 
 vivA voce coaching did help my friends. Three of 
 us had the privilege of a bedroom without a teacher 
 
26 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 in it, arid we had permission to speak, the wise 
 riile of " Not one word in your rooms " being 
 enforced in the larger bedrooms, such as Queen- 
 Anne's Room, Queen Anne's Chapel, and the Long 
 Room, where watchful teachers ensured quiet and 
 order. 
 
 How I admired some of our companions ! 
 Annette Maria Francisca Celestina, with, her 
 Spanish loveliness ; the dark Russian, Sophia ; 
 some fair West Indians ; and then four charming 
 daughters of Lady C. L. came, in their novel 
 Swiss hats. The Layards from Ceylon, and Scotch 
 and Irish, gave variety to our nationalities. 
 
 Madame Teed's piercing eyes were most cha- 
 racter-discriminating, and the on dit " Madame is 
 an angel and a witch " often proved true. Of course 
 some of the gay girls did not love her, did not hke 
 the " education for heaven " as well as for earth ; 
 but doubtless in the last great gathering, many a 
 gem from Campden will be found in the Lord's 
 casket of jewels. 
 
 The time of the confirmation came, and I was a 
 candidate. Sincerely and humbly did I crave'that 
 it might be a time of blessing to my soul. I had 
 no assurance of forgiveness, only hazy hopes and 
 dreamy satisfaction. The " hungering and thirst- 
 ing " for Christ, the delight in His word, the thrill 
 at His name, the real pleasure in holy conversation 
 
A CONFIRMATION. 27 
 
 in our prayer unions, were wanting. My replies, 
 my confirmation papers, were all satisfactory, and 
 also my interview with our good chaplain. Well I 
 remember his wise and holy counsel, as I walked 
 by him in the garden. It is strange, that even 
 then, confession of my deceitful profession never 
 occurred to me. I am thankful I did not again 
 make any false statements, so it was taken for 
 granted I was all right. Long ago I had tearfully 
 asked forgiveness for all my sins, and one wish, one 
 good desire was in my heart — the fruit of God's 
 everlasting love — that in confirmation I might 
 indeed be confirmed by God the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Large old-fashioned carriages took us to St 
 James' Church, Paddington — no veils or caps were 
 usual then — only plain white dresses and capes, so 
 there was nothing to distract our attention (as the 
 almost bridal attire must now-a-days). The high 
 pews effectually screened us, and I remember most 
 earnestly praying for God's Spirit, and very heartily 
 saying " I do." As I walked up the long aisle to 
 the holy table and knelt there, the one cry arose, 
 " Give me now the Holy Spirit. Oh do, do." And 
 so God's everlasting love' drew me then (the 
 unworthiest of all there) nearer than ever before. 
 Returning to Campden House, in the long silent 
 drive, unmistakeably the Spirit brought to me with 
 assuring words, " My beloved is mine, and I am His." 
 
28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 My first communion was in the Rev. C. Smalley's 
 Church, Bayswater. I have no distinct remem- 
 brance of it, but for years my sacramental times 
 were tearful longings, intense hungerings after 
 Christ, rather than the joyful experience of many. 
 So, even now, I look back on my communions with 
 the Lord Jesus in His word, rather than at His 
 table, as the most vividly precious seasons. 
 
 At one period Campden House was noted for its 
 dancing, the Princess Victoria's master giving 
 lessons ; and the breaking-up dancing soirees gave 
 opportunity for the graceful ones to enhance the 
 popularity of the school with the noble of our 
 land. 
 
 But the time came when the Lord arrested the 
 principal herself; I cannot distinctly record her 
 conversion, but it was a most complete passing 
 from death unto life— old things passing away, all 
 things becoming new. The test of this new life 
 was the consequent anxiety for the salvation of her 
 pupils, and the determination to put away the accom- 
 plishment which was the charm and attraction of 
 her school; because she saw the lurking evil, and that 
 dancing well must lead into the world's bypaths. 
 It was at the risk of breaking up the school, but 
 the brave plunge brought its full reward. For a 
 time numbers lessened, but a reflex tide of popu- 
 larity with high-minded parents set in, and God 
 
Z NEVER LEARNT TO DANCE. 29 
 
 gave the brighter blessing of many young feet 
 choosing for themselves the paths of pleasantness 
 and peace, and finding in Christ the abundance of 
 joy and those life-satisfying pleasures, which end in 
 His presence, where there is fulness of joy. 
 
 For it is not giving up, it is getting ; it is not 
 self-denial to please the Beloved of your soul. A 
 betrothed one joyfully foregoes any pursuit that 
 would risk the loss of her engagement ring or the 
 smile of approval. 
 
 Oh that parents and the principals of schools 
 saw this matter in the light of eternity ! The very 
 fact that " my governess did approve — she was 
 a Christian — so it can be no harm to dance," has 
 been the life-hinge into the world's vestibule; 
 whereas the simple fact, " My parents and my 
 governess did not approve, and I really cannot do 
 it to the glory of God ; I should not like to die in 
 the ball-room," becomes a safeguard. " Thanks, I 
 never learnt dancing," sets many a fair foot free 
 from the luring snare. 
 
 Our deportment, our walking, our constant curt- 
 seys, and our calisthenics, taught by the same Mr. 
 Jenkins, were sufficient guard against clumsy ways 
 and lazy postures. 
 
 Occasionally we were all invited in turn to break- 
 fast with Mrs. and Miss Teed. I have copied from 
 a large MS. book, by C. Bosanquet, many of the 
 
30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MAHIA V. G. IIAVERGAL. 
 
 quaint, spicy, yet profitable remarks of Mrs. Teed 
 at these times. 
 
 Then' the good Rev. James Parker, our domestic 
 chaplain, held noble sway over his young charge. 
 Bible classes, confirmation preparations, communi- 
 cants' instruction, were all helpful. His sermons, 
 with their four divisions and maybe eight or nine 
 " little heads '' under each, were good memory pegs, 
 and helped us in our Sunday sermon writing^ 
 That has been a hfe-help to me, so without short- 
 hand I could faithfully give fair reports of any 
 sermon till sixty -three years old. 
 
 It is sadly that I record the way in which God's 
 everlasting love led me to deep penitence and real 
 humblings, more than a year after that deceitful 
 profession of belief in Jesus. Of course my dear 
 governess believed me; and so treated me as a child 
 of God. I think I was really a favourite with her, 
 for my outward obedience and my accurate lessons 
 and replies in divinity. Doubtless, I was the last 
 girl in the school she could' suspect of any breach 
 of God's laws; so when some cake was missed 
 from the drawing-room, it distressed and pained 
 her exceedingly. " The fool hath said in his heart. 
 There is no God," "The eyes of the Lord are in every 
 place," was solemnly dwelt upon at prayers. Again 
 my naughty audacity in gazing on portraits and 
 the beautiful things in the drawing-room, was the 
 
MRS. TEED'S ROOM. 31 
 
 Step into the horrible fall of purloining her cake ; 
 this time Lizzie was on the watch. That evening 
 I was summoned to the dear place, where such 
 tender love, such holy pleadings had gone up for 
 me ; and now I stood as the culprit. Wisely and 
 faithfully she drew me to confession ; even now I 
 can see that dear face grieved to the quick — 
 grieved most that one who had so professed should 
 so grievously have fallen. She pictured the grief to 
 my dear and holy parents — the disappointment to 
 the teachers that I could no longer be trusted, that 
 my high place in her esteem was gone. Wisely she 
 spared me the shame of punishment before the 
 whole school, but some special marks of favour 
 were withdrawn. And then the sin against the 
 Lord, the grieving Him. I do not think I then or 
 for years realized clearly that first false step in 
 profession, so Mrs. Teed dealt with me as a tempted, 
 fallen child of God^that I had listened to the 
 devil and forsaken Christ. 
 
 My privilege of going alone was still mine, and 
 then I could sob and cry and confess to Jesus, all 
 the sins which now glared out on my soul. The 
 rest of that half-year was a very sorrowful time, 
 and I believe God's Spirit showed me the evil of 
 my own heart. Still it never, occurred to me to tell 
 Mrs. Teed of that deceit. But I loved my friend 
 increasingly. I remember watching for the first 
 
32 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 rose to blossom in my garden for her — and then 
 writing with it a pencil note "that I was so un- 
 worthy, but I am your loving, sorrowful child, 
 Maria." 
 
 My conviction of sin was deepened by a solemn 
 warning. One of our schoolfellows was taken ill, 
 M. L., the only child of parents who most reluc- 
 tantly parted with their beloved for this her first 
 half-year. Her recovery was prayed for. The elder 
 girls joined in fervent supplication for the life of 
 her soul. One midnight we heard carriage wheels, 
 and next day the elder ones knew that London 
 doctors came. In those days there were no large 
 printed texts. The dying child needed a living 
 Saviour — Jesus only. " The Father sent the Son 
 to be the Saviour of the world," was written large 
 and clear, and the card soon put where Mary could 
 see its glad message. And Mrs. Teed's believing 
 prayer was that by His own word, life and light 
 would shine into the child's heart. "He that 
 heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent 
 me hath everlasting life," became the Lord's own 
 "verily," His own "Talitha cumi ;" and so in the 
 twilight the glad, unasked-for confession came. 
 " Mary wants a Saviour — Jesus my Saviour — God 
 sent Jesus to save me. Yes, it is all true, all mine." 
 The parents had come, and again the dying child 
 pointed to the text, and with touching eagerness 
 
A FOLDED LAMB. 33 
 
 begged her father to believe also. Again God 
 sealed those words, and the hitherto unawakened 
 ear heard and believed. With all the agony of 
 farewell to their only one came the new joy that 
 Jesus was precious to them also, and as the pearly 
 gate opened for her, so would it also for them. 
 Silently all knelt round her dying bed, silently did 
 One more draw nearer and nearer, even the Saviour 
 of the world, completing His work by receiving her 
 unto Himself, His shepherd arm safely gathering 
 and carrying her home on His bosom. The 
 "shoulder" for the straying sheep — the "bosom" 
 for the folded lamb. 
 
 I might recall many more answers to Mrs. Teed's 
 believing prayer and trust in the efficacy of God's 
 own word. In some cases her dear scholars 
 returned to homes with no sympathy, but rather 
 opposition. To these she counselled obedience and 
 cheerful home piety. One, who was prevented 
 from further intercourse with her friend, sent the 
 assuring message, "Although my house be not so 
 with God, yet hath He made with me an everlast- 
 ing covenant, ordered in all things and sure." 
 
 Mrs. Teed's influence over me was salutary and 
 lifelong. Her own departure (sth January 1858) 
 was a true sunset in calm radiancy, stedfast faith, 
 and joyful anticipation, based on the atoning blood. 
 Her dying words were, " I am fast going home ; 
 
34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 but 1 find the blood of Jesus my all-sufficient 
 sufficiency ! " 
 
 And now on the 17th of June 1838 I bade fare- 
 well to Campden House ; farewell to the royal 
 rooms and chapel, and terraces and walks ; farewell 
 to the holy teachings, prayers, and songs ; farewell 
 to my ever most revered, most beloved friend on 
 earth ; farewell to clever teachers and masters ; 
 farewell to those eighty - five schoolfellows of 
 girlish beauty and loving ways ; farewell to the 
 Campden chorus, whose echo ever lingers, — 
 
 " Glory, honour, praise, and power, 
 Ee unto the Lamb for ever ; 
 Jesus Christ in o jr Redeemer, 
 Hallelujah, praise the Lord I " 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOME LIFE AFTER SCHOOL. 
 
 God's " everlasting love " might be the shining 
 motto of those happy days. Shielded from even 
 ordinary temptations, but enjoying intensely all 
 the charms of our beautiful neighbourhood ; with a 
 father never too strict, never too indulgent ; with a 
 mother teaching us thrifty elegance in our dress, 
 and self-helping habits, order and cheerfulness, — 
 a truly merry and happy household were we. 
 
 My bedroom had white dimity hangings, and 
 pretty pink ruchings from mother's tasteful hand, a 
 table for my desk, and the queer assortmentof books 
 I revelled in ; the window trellised with a vine ; 
 below was mother's garden, with a few flower-beds 
 and the grassy bank, a light railing only dividing 
 it from the churchyard; and the little fir-tree, 
 planted by father, that now stands sentinel over 
 that holy resting grave of my nearest and dearest 
 (with just room for Marid also !). Beyond was an 
 undulating meadow, fringed with firs and elms, and 
 the road leading down to the steep Toot hill. 
 
 35 
 
36 AUTOBIOGRAPHY -OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Avidij, valleys and slopes, rising to Yarron, an 
 Elizabethan farm, and the twin round hills, 
 surmounting the lime quarries ; beyond these the 
 Abberley range, and Woodbury, with its fir-tree 
 crown and ancient British encampment. To the 
 south the Church Bank, or, as we called it, the 
 Adders' Bank, where once young Lord Louth, 
 finding two large specimens, brought them alive, 
 with Lish innocence of reptiles, to my father, 
 fortunately gripping them by the neck. The 
 Adders' Bank is a steep declivity, with a rippling 
 brook below. By an old tree-plank we crossed 
 into Glashampton Park, still skirted by the snow- 
 drop wood and daffodil and narcissus beds. Only 
 the large stables are left, where lived Widow Sayce 
 and her pretty tabbies. From my window I could 
 just see the magnificent elms that root in the 
 foundation- ruins of a once noble house, all burnt 
 ta ashes on the eve of its completion ! It is a 
 digression, but the Glashampton story has a 
 shining of God's ways, and how He brings good 
 out of evil. 
 
 Long before my father came to Astley it was, 
 at great cost, enlarged and beautified. It had a 
 picture gallery for valuable paintings, which were 
 still in the packing-cases, and so were saved. A 
 large organ was rescued, which by a singular 
 coincidence was afterwards in my father's church of 
 
PROFESSOU LEE. 2J 
 
 St. Nicholas, Worcester. A feast was given to the 
 workmen, and in the after-carousal ashes from a 
 pipe set fire to shavings, and the whole mansion 
 was totally destroyed, and never rebuilt. A print 
 of the old house is in Nash's Worcestershire. 
 Soon after, as the Rev. D. J. Cookes, the new 
 proprietor and restorer, was surveying the smoking 
 ruins, he saw one of the carpenters sitting on some 
 planks reading a Greek book. Naturally surprised, 
 a conversation followed, in which Mr. Cookes' 
 learned that his name was John Lee, that all his 
 tools had been burnt in the fire, that as a boy he 
 was at sehool in Shropshire, was apprenticed to a 
 carpenter, and that Archdeacon Corbett, discover- 
 ing his talent for languages, had himself instructed 
 him in Latin and Greek. The apparently acci- 
 dental burning of his tools was the circumstance 
 which determined him to pursue more exclusively 
 his classical studies, and he became master of the 
 Bowdler Schools, near Shrewsbury, and afterwards 
 entered the University of Cambridge, where he 
 became the distinguished Professor Lee. 
 
 Back to my window! It was a July Sunday 
 evening, soon after my home-coming, and the 
 afternoon had been rather sleepily spent. The 
 bells were chiming for evening service, and I 
 looked out on the people assembling, and standing 
 by the graves here and there, the living and the 
 
38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 dead ; the silence of those graves, the hum of the 
 living voices above them flashed on me the solemn 
 thought, that every one standing there, and I too, 
 must lie dead and silent also. And a very glimpse 
 of eternity, of the reality of heaven and hell as real 
 places, where each one of us must be for ever, 
 burnt in me a new and powerful desire to help 
 some at least to find the Lord Jesus I trusted in. 
 I knew dear father preached faithfully; I knew dear 
 mother, though in feeble health, visited the poor. 
 (Never forgotten were her words in old Molly's 
 house, "We are saved only by the blood and 
 through the merits of Jesus Christ.") I knew that 
 sister Miriam taught the first class in the Sunday 
 school, and covered tracts and lent them ; but I 
 had never done a thing, I had never spoken of 
 Jesus, and when He came in His glory, might He 
 not say, " Ye visited nie not." That was the spring, 
 of what I may humbly say became the very passion 
 of my life, visiting not only the nearer cottages, 
 but scouring over unfrequented fields with tracts 
 and my dear Campden Testament, speaking (feebly 
 of course), of and for Jesus Christ my Lord. 
 
 A class of girls was given me, and most diligently 
 did I prepare the Sunday lesson, first studying the 
 subject and consulting Scott and Matthew Henry's 
 Commentaries; and then writing down every word 
 of what I intended to say! (Some of these 
 
ASTLE Y SUN DA Y SCHOOL. 39 
 
 "Lessons for the Little Ones'' I sent up anony- 
 mously to a magazine, and they were printed with 
 commendation.) 
 
 On Sunday, in the summer afternoons, all the 
 forms were carried to our orchard and lawn, and 
 those open-air times led me always to adopt the 
 same when superintendent of larger schools. We 
 gave two tea treats — summer and winter ; it may 
 help some country vicar to carry out the Astley 
 plan. It was the custom for every resident, or 
 farmer, to send a cake once a year ; this divided the 
 expense fairly with the rector. Scripture texts 
 ■were given for punctuality and good lessons ; kept 
 in the scholar's little bags, a dozen when learned - 
 perfectly were exchanged for a penny ticket. At 
 school treats,- these again were changed into Bibles, 
 Testaments, prayer-books, and the few children's 
 books then extant. The great event of our 
 ecclesiastical year (excepting the festivals) was our 
 Church Missionary Sunday. My dear father re- 
 cords that the first C. M. S. sermon at Astley was 
 preached by the Rev. John Davies, of St. Clement's, 
 Worcester, in 1823. Finding that the Astley Wake 
 was a time of influx to the parish, my father wisely 
 made that Sunday attractive by some stranger 
 preaching for the C. M. S., with special hymns and 
 lively tunes of his own composition. (See Records 
 of W. H. H., p. 135.) All our missionary boxes 
 
40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 were opened ; and very interesting it is to look back 
 on the names of the cottagers and their monthly or 
 quarterly pence. 
 
 Our missionary interest was further enlivenedby 
 the meetings at Bewdley and Worcester; seldom 
 any dull, prosy speeches there ! Of course we 
 thought our father's eloquence supreme ; his musical 
 voice and lively anecdotes, and the graceful wave 
 of his white hand, were followed by more cheers 
 than for others. 
 
 I was just eighteen when an invitation came to 
 dear grandmother's, with the delightful prospect of 
 staying at Oxford and seeing my brother Henry 
 at New College. . Dear mother went with me for 
 wardrobe replenishings to Worcester ; she chose a 
 white straw bonnet, with pink and white watered 
 ribbon, and some delicate pinky flowers were 
 shown. We never wore flowers — we wished to be_ 
 examples in our Sunday school ; but how I begged 
 for these and got- them ! Then at Scott's, how I 
 teazed for a gay pink muslin ! but mother, wisely 
 chose me a soft dove cashmere, and a neat 
 moiisseline de laiite. Arrived at Wycombe, my 
 pink flowers did not escape grandmother's eye ; I 
 think just then I had a turn at pomps and vanities, 
 and received some attentions from a schoolfellow's 
 sailor brother. The Oxford Commemoration was 
 near, and my visit at Wycombe nearly past, but 
 
THE OXFORD COMMEMORATION. 41 
 
 not profitably. I contrived to get a white muslin 
 dress, with white satin trimmings, made unknown tO 
 grandmother, and Aunt Mary lent me a splendid 
 black lace shawl. I could write pages of my Oxford 
 visit, staying with the Vibe -Principal of St. 
 Edmund's Hall (where my father graduated in 
 1 8 16, and two of his grandsons did so in 1882 and 
 1886). I went to breakfasts and soirees, and to see 
 the Bodleian and up to Great Ben of Oxford, and 
 under the great bell, received compliments and 
 bows, " that is not the only belle we see," etc. And 
 one discreet old Astley friend at an evening recep- 
 tion whispered, "Miss Havergal, don't mind all that 
 is said to you. Mr. G. compliments every one." 
 That sobered me, and the unsatisfying reaction set 
 in ; there was no real pleasure in the chat and laugh, 
 and amid all the real interest of the Commemora- 
 tion Day, thoughts of better joy stole in. I think 
 the exquisite music in New College Chapel was 
 my greatest delight ; it thrilled through me, and 
 then, as ever, I liked to shut my eyes, that melody 
 alofie might possess my whole being. 
 
 On my return, dear Astley home ways seemed 
 sweeter than ever ; the exceeding beauty of our 
 walks, the botanical treasures, and in the lime-kilns 
 hammering for fossils, was a change. 
 
 I was a great reader. I liked having half-a- 
 dozen books going, — great volumes of Calvin, 
 
42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. IIAVERGAL. 
 
 Flavel, Pearson on the Creed ; Hooker's Ecclesias- 
 tical Works, in 7 volumes ; Newton on Prophecy, 
 and all the Reformation Series ; Bishop Jewel's 
 folios ; Jeremy Taylor and Gurnall's Christian 
 Armour. The Homilies I knew well, and wish 
 they were not out of sight now. Then there was 
 Calmet's Bible Dictionary, and Scott and Henry. 
 For higher reading, Belzoni's Travels, Robertson's 
 America, Hume and Smollett's History of England, 
 in close print. I never read novels, and so enjoyed 
 sound wholesome food. I always thank my father 
 for his express wish on that subject, and so when 
 in after visits I saw them, not even a wish came to 
 me. Once I did, as a trial, read one, to see if I 
 could close the book and go with appetite to other 
 studies. No. I felt the whirlpool of imagination 
 stirred, but the dreamy mawkishness and unreality 
 disgusted me. Often in travelling,, books and 
 Punch have been offered me. Two words always 
 settle that — " give account ; " so I would rather not 
 read what I could not give account of 
 
 With all the charms of our Astley life one was 
 wanting — friends of our own age. The arrival of 
 Mr. and Mrs. T. S. L., and one son and several 
 daughters, at Astley Hall, supplied the void. The 
 eldest, H., became my most valued friend ; she was 
 older and far in advance of my faith and knowledge. 
 We studied the Bible together, we read and then 
 
ENTHUSIASTIC FRIENDSHIT. 43 
 
 talked over our abstracts of various authors, and 
 our repetition of poetry kept us in practice. My 
 love for her was enthusiastic — her footsteps even 
 sent a thrill through me ! Together we systemati- 
 cally visited the cottages, some far away ; and she 
 and her sisters in after years v/ere valuable teachers 
 in the Sunday school. My friend was an especial 
 help to me in sacramental seasons. I loved Christ, 
 and longed for more than the outward form. I 
 wanted deeper communion with my Saviour. Oh 
 how diligently I examined myself, how tearfully 
 I read over the story of His cross and passion ! and 
 often I would go in our quiet chancel on the week- 
 day to seek the Lord. The church standing close 
 to our garden was rarely locked, and often in the 
 summer I have been in it by five o'clock to secure 
 early prayer. And yet I always came away from 
 the Sacrament unsatisfied, and often so tearfully 
 that I had to get off from dinner and ask for bread 
 and milk in my room. I see now the Lord was 
 teaching me not to place undue or exclusive value 
 on any means of grace, and I have found the most 
 vivid and exquisite manifestations of Himself and 
 His exceeding love may be on the lone mountain 
 or in the still chamber of suffering. 
 
 Dear H.'s friendship continued after her happy 
 marriage with the excellent Rev. S. R. W. I wish 
 some record had been kept of her pattern life as 
 
44 AUTOBIOGRArHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 wife, mother, and devoted parish worker. My 
 father had the greatest esteem for her, and she 
 appreciated his teaching, and carefully did she keep 
 notes of his Astley sermons. Mysteriously was 
 this valuable mother suddenly called from her eight 
 little ones ; but in the glory all life-enigmas are 
 solved. 
 
 But dear H. E. L. was not married while we were 
 at our de:ar and much regretted Astley, and she 
 was one of my sister M.'s bridesmaids from our next 
 and temporary home, Henwick House. This was 
 in the parish of Hallow, where my father awaited 
 his promised succession to a living in Worcester. 
 We had a large garden and long terrace (shortened 
 since) overlooking the Severn. And what happy 
 evenings we had of song and music when we were 
 all at home ! our then little darling Fan joining 
 with wondrous facility. Her fairy form and 
 golden curls seem flitting now amid the home 
 scenes that rise and fall, and pass away in the 
 dimming past. 
 
 Then came the first flight from our home nest — 
 our eldest sister Miriam's marriage. Truly her 
 father's daughter — clever, generous, and noble; 
 her artistic etchings and sketches, and her descrip- 
 tive verses, deserve a passing mention. It was 
 very pleasant that her beautiful home should be 
 in Astley parish, and the boon Oakhampton was 
 
A RING OF RUBIES. 45 
 
 to all of US, and dear F. especially, no words 
 can tell. 
 
 [Note. — The Editor alfows part of the sisterly 
 panegyric to remain, as showing how M. V. G. H. 
 followed the precept, "In honour preferring one 
 another."] 
 
 About this time a desire arose that God would 
 really rule my life, and I think too rigid and ascetic 
 ideas possessed me, also a turn of High Churchism. 
 I fasted no end, and believe my health was much 
 injured by it ; besides, I regret the almost untruth- 
 fulness of my excuses for being absent from meals. 
 On Sunday, as I taught in a far-off Sunday school, 
 I often gave my sandwich dinner away, partly from 
 good-nature, partly from supposed merit. In my 
 dress, too, I tried to deny myself in every possible 
 way — wishing to give to the poor the cost of silk 
 dresses, etc. ; it was the looking away from Christ, 
 substituting works for His exceeding love, and 
 His one final and for ever sufficient work of our 
 redemption. 
 
 My father gave me a ring of rubies, but once I 
 was touched by some missionary details, and having 
 but little pocket-money, I put my ring on the plate. 
 I never had another ring till, four years after my 
 dear sister's death, I received a letter from the 
 north of Scotland, saying that a dying girl had 
 taken off her ring, and wished it might be sold for 
 
46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 the F. R. H. Memorial Fund, for it was her books 
 that had led her to Christ. I telegraphed back that 
 I would redeem the ring. 
 
 It became an increasing delight to me to visit 
 the cottages, my swift walking taking me to many 
 a lonely corner. I marvel now at my activities, and 
 believe they sprang from love to God, and much 
 delightful communing did I hold with the Lord 
 Jesus on the wayside. H ?. was more and more to 
 me, and when my early retirement at night was 
 smiled at, they little knew the delight of being alone 
 with Jesus my Lord. 
 
 In 1843, I paid a visit to some kind and holy 
 friends in Bath. The Rev. John East was my 
 father's college friend, and his church of St. 
 Michael was at once his life-work and his tomb. 
 I returned much refreshed to my parish duties 
 with many new resolutions. 
 
 In the summer of 1844, my dear father took me 
 to Scotland with a friend, who had suffered from 
 an engagement being broken off. Untwine any 
 clasping tendril, how helplessly torn the blossoms 
 lie — the beautiful Augusta ! it seemed strange 
 indeed any one could forsake her. 
 
 We were favoured in travelling with my father, 
 his pleasant talks and that invisible sympathy that 
 tears not open lattice-grief, and withal that allur- 
 ing to the truer love of a patient Saviour, waiting 
 
A VOYAGE TO ARRAN. 47 
 
 for the torn blossom to revive under His healing 
 smile. 
 
 To me it was all novelty — the steamer, the sea, 
 Ailsa Craig, and the beauties of the Highland lochs 
 and mountains, — all seemed , the opening of a new 
 page in God's beautiful lesson-book. 
 
 How unconsciously we carry out God's purposes 
 — how the travelling day chosen for one's own con- 
 venience may be the crossing of another's pathway 
 in need of our sympathy ! I was watching the sun- 
 set at sea, and the crested waves parting in foam 
 against our steamer, when I saw the distressed face 
 of a foreigner, who failed to make the captain 
 understand her rapid questions in very broken 
 English. She sat down lonely and sad ; I offered 
 to be interpreter, and so get the information 
 wanted. She had friends in the island of Arran, 
 but where or how to reach them she knew not. 
 We, too, were bound for Arran, but must sleep 
 at Ardrossan. I told my father that the Swiss 
 stranger was evidently in difficulty; so he arranged 
 to frank her there, and she went with us to our 
 hotel. 
 
 The next day I was deeply interested in her 
 history, but however could she find her Genevan 
 school friends with no clue but Arran .■' We 
 landed at Lamlash, and we went in search of 
 lodgings, Mdlle., following us. 
 
48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVER GAL. 
 
 All at once I saw two graceful girls approaching, 
 and the cry, " My friends ! my friends I " was the 
 happy result. Of course they called to thank us 
 for our attention to their friend, and we joined in 
 rambles to Loch Ranza and Goatfell. The elder 
 became Augusta's friend ; only two years passed, 
 and both met on another and more shining shore. 
 The younger- charmed me with her intellect and 
 grace, and some twenty years after she married 
 into our family ! 
 
 Andrierine Vignier subsequently visited us, and 
 by her tender nursing of my beloved mother, and 
 in other ways, proved a friend in trouble. Her 
 history ought to be written in full, — a brief outline 
 must suffice. 
 
 An only child of Protestant parents, their castle 
 and estate could not be inherited by her, but 
 passed to the brother's son. He was a Roman 
 Catholic, and from childhood was Andrienne's 
 ardent lover. Owing to an accident when ten 
 years old, Andrienne was taken to Italy for spinal 
 treatment. There every effort was made to induce 
 the child to abjure her Protestant notions. She 
 described to me the endeavour to frighten her ; 
 after some brave refusal, she was told evil spirits 
 would come for her if she were not in the true 
 Church. And phosphoric outlines of horrible forms 
 were made to pass before her on the wall as she 
 
A BRAVE CHILD. 49 
 
 lay in bed. All in vain ! Then she was taken one 
 evening into the chapel to confess ; refusing to do 
 so (I only wish I could repeat her clever answers), 
 she was locked up all night alone in the chapel. 
 The morning found the brave child firmer than 
 ever ; and when the priest told her he should go to 
 heaven, but she must be lost for ever, she ex- 
 claimed, " If you will be in heaven, I never wish 
 to go." 
 
 Years went on till her coming of age was to 
 decide the choice — to be a loved wife and a countess 
 in the castle of her ancestors, or to earn her bread 
 as a governess in a strange land. No dogma, no 
 obstinacy ruled here ; in the strong, firm persuasion 
 that Roman Catholic doctrines could not be proved 
 by Holy Scripture, and that as they detract from 
 the glory of Jesus Christ and substitute the merits 
 of Virgin and saints, this true follower of Christ 
 counted all things but loss, and literally gave up 
 lover, house, and lands for His name's sake. It 
 was soon after this that I met her in that singular 
 way. 
 
 Once again, after the trial of loneliness, the count 
 tried again. She was walking with her pupib 
 (Augusta's sisters, for I had introduced her- to 
 Ilorton), when an Italian grejhound ran caress- 
 ingly to her. She knew then its master was not 
 far distant. Two interviews followed, not only with 
 U 
 
so AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. IIAVERGAL. 
 
 herself, but her English friends ; but when Jesus 
 Christ is a reality in the heart, we must be more 
 than conquerors. 
 
 Her later path was one of wonderful ministry ; 
 not only in England, but away in Naples, noble 
 deeds could be told of her generous rescue of some 
 in distress. Andrienne gave me a singular detail 
 of her assisting two escaped nuns, and their revela- 
 tions strongly confirmed my Protestant faith. I will 
 not give particulars, as I did not write them then. 
 Brave Andrienne ! when the Son of man comes in 
 His glory, your name and your confession of faith 
 shall be confessed by Him, and His smile will be 
 your eternal compensation. 
 
 It was during this visit to Scotland that my 
 father became acquainted with Dr. Laurie, of 
 Monckton Manse, to whom he dedicated a lovely 
 melody to " Burns's Prayer." This had a p'ano 
 accompaniment, and is the original air /rom which 
 the popular tune " Evan " was afterwards taken by 
 Dr. Lowell Mason. When visiting my father. Dr. 
 Mason was charmed with his singing it, and re- 
 quested a copy. Turning to Frank, my father 
 told him to give his copy to the Doctor, who took 
 it to America. He wrote for permission to shorten 
 the air to a CM. hymn tune. My father did not 
 think it in strict ecclesiastical style, and would not 
 allow his name to appear ; hence it got published 
 
MY MUSICAL RELATIONS. sl 
 
 with his initial H. only, and, appearing in Dr. 
 Mason's collection, soon got his name instead of 
 my father's. 
 
 Would that more had heard my father's 
 exquisite touch and extemporized fugues and 
 harmonies — waves of melody, now richest chords, 
 then gentlest adagios. His voice was sweet and 
 clear, and his long-sustained shake would hush 
 us completely. 
 
 My brother Henry also had musical talent, and 
 his chants and tunes deserve to be better known. 
 His set of Christmas Carols, both words and music, 
 are extremely bright and varied. It is not many 
 who have built two organs, and he was master of 
 several musical instruments. His power in archi- 
 tectural drawing was also considerable, and when 
 he was sub-librarian at the Bodleian, he made an 
 illuminated catalogue of the music, which so 
 delighted Dean Gaisford that he made him a 
 present of £^0, and it is preserved among the 
 treasures of Christ Church Library, Oxford. My 
 brother Frank also built his own organ, a very 
 sweet one, on which his daughters play, and the 
 youngest extemporizes beautifully. 
 
 In 184s, the Bishop of Worcester gave my 
 father the important living of St. Nicholas, 
 Worcester. It was a great change from the 
 freedom of country life to the centre of a town, 
 
52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 with all the responsibilities and activities of a large 
 parish. It was overwhelming even to walk through' 
 the alleys and courts and ins and outs of the 
 Butts; but my resolve came to know them all. 
 Very delightful were our visits to the four sets of 
 almshouses ; so many dear pilgrims in them just 
 waiting to cross over. Some of their histories I 
 have written in Pleasant Fruits, and I often pic- 
 ture their different surroundings now in the spirit- 
 state of joy and felicity. It is sometimes my 
 indulgence to recall the names of all God's saints 
 I have known, and as it were rejoice in their 
 exceeding joy. 
 
 But it was not among saints only the Master 
 called, — house-to-house visits, finding out lodgers 
 and hidden ones, the heart-aching ones, whom it 
 did ease only to tell it all out. To listen is a great 
 point in visiting; it opens the barred door, which all 
 one's pious remarks will not 
 
 I remember pausing at every door for a look 
 upward for wisdom, and, wherever possible, I read 
 God's Word ; proposing that they too would read 
 , verse about, awoke more attention. If the mother 
 could not read, then let her children take turns ; to 
 read to and talk at people is almost useless. In 
 cold and heat, snow and rain, I plodded on for 
 hours daily. Occasionally a country walk with my 
 dear little sister was a treat. Poor child, it was not 
 
ST. NICHOLAS SUNDA Y SCHOOL. $3 
 
 a happy time for her, and I often regret many an 
 omission that would have brightened her path. 
 As elder sister, I was too exacting of what ougki to 
 be done, and was more of John the Baptist than 
 the tender, loving Saviour. Memory recalls so 
 much for regret in the home-life, while outwardly I 
 was supposed to be all that was energetic and good. 
 Elder sisters have so much in their power, and, oh, 
 that daily I had striven to make every one happy ! 
 In the parish it was all very well, and there I do 
 think I was loved. My knowledge of the hundreds 
 of poor, the names of every man, woman, and child, 
 was a great help to my father, especially in the 
 yearly distribution of the church gifts. 
 
 The Sunday school under my dear father's 
 supervision became a model. Punctually as the 
 clock struck half-past nine, he gave out the hymn ; 
 no waiting ever. The boys' school had been dis- 
 orderly, so my father tried the new plan of the 
 teachers being all ladies, and it answered admir- 
 ably. Many of the elder lads turned out well, and 
 several former scholars have come in after life to 
 look at my fsrther's portrait, and tell how they loved 
 him, and how advice and kindly teaching had been 
 golden in their effects on them. One of my scholars 
 was a very clever lad, and I gave him lessons in 
 the evenings and sent him to a night-school. When 
 leaving St. Nicholas, I commended him to Miss 
 
54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 JBreay's excellent teaching, and to her he owed his 
 future progress. It wasjjleasant to receive a letter 
 from my old scholar, asking my earnest prayers on 
 his ordination, and saying, that though he could not 
 recall any exact words, " It was your angel touch on 
 my shoulder that became the call to a holy life." 
 His mother told me that on Sunday evenings he 
 would come home from church and lie silent and 
 absorbed on the hearth-rug. Asking his thoughts 
 — " Mother, when I am a man, I should like to 
 preach like dear Mr. Havergal, and -stand in his 
 pulpit." The wish was realized. 
 
 Several of our dear scholars died in the Lord ; my, 
 father's beautiful account of "A wise and holy Child" 
 might well be reprinted. I supplied him with notes 
 of her conversations, and I do prize the fact that 
 it was our own sweet mother's remarks on the hymn 
 she gave out in the Sunday school, that bore fruit 
 in Elizabeth Edwards' life and happy death. My 
 mother's health failed soon after we came to St. 
 Nicholas, but not till she was known and loved, and 
 I may say admired, as I remember noticing when 
 she went in the High Sheriff's State carriage to the 
 cathedral at the time my father was chaplain to his 
 Astley friend, T. S. Lea. 
 
 My dear father was now in the very zenith of his 
 labours, preaching, and popularity. His church 
 was <lensely crowded ; the hearty congregation, 
 
MY FATHER'S USEFULNESS. 55 
 
 singing to his own tunes and chants, testified to 
 their genius, while his house-to-house visitation, 
 with cheery loving words, ensured the affection of 
 his people. I remember how much his visits were 
 appreciated by the families of our tradesmen ; to 
 some of the younger ones, especially at their con- 
 firmation time, he became much blessed. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 1846-1848. 
 
 During the illness of my dear mother, I kept an 
 account of many remarks and conversations. As 
 the mother of Frances Ridley Havergal, surely 
 these records ought not to be folded up in the 
 oblivion of the past. They may strengthen the 
 faith and patience of some who may likewise be 
 called to endure the inevitable sufferings of that 
 dire and unmanageable disease — cancer. A large 
 MS. book is lying by me ; it is impossible to copy it 
 as it is, and my own aching arm warns me to hasten 
 in whatever I write, so I will make some extracts 
 only. I believe the prayers and holy example 
 of our sweet mother were the spring of untold 
 blessing to her children ; and now that the fourth 
 generation are rising, it is right they should know 
 something of Jane Havergal. I was myself but a 
 tiny child when I was shown a window pane, with 
 " lovely Jane Head " indelibly written on it. 
 
 I have a long letter from an, eminent Christian, 
 written to my-mother when quite a girl. It was in 
 
LOVE OF THE BIBLE. 57 
 
 answer to her own statement of difficulties, which 
 really proved how deep and true was the work of 
 grace in her soul, and also referring to the time of 
 her conversion. My dear mother told me what 
 follows. " When I was about twelve years old, a 
 good lady, Mrs. K., took much interest in me, 
 and when I went to visit some friends in London, 
 her advice kept me firm in refusing to go to a 
 dancing party. I also remember, when visiting my 
 eldest sister at her pretty home, that I took Scott's 
 Commentary to my room and delighted in reading 
 it. Indeed, from a child, my dear mother taught 
 me to love my Bible, and I can remember always 
 securing quiet time for reading.'-' This love for her 
 Bible was her shining way-mark through life. Her 
 knowledge and love of hymns was great, and her 
 voice was" sweet and true. As a curate's and 
 rector's wife, she .admirably guided the home 
 details. The cottagers loved her, and when we 
 left Astley Rectory in 1841, a solid silver cake 
 basket was presented to her by the parishioners. 
 Her health failed soon after my father took the 
 Rectory of St. Nicholas, Worcester ; ■ but one of her 
 Sunday-school addresses bore special fruit, as may 
 be read in the little memoir of " A wise and holy 
 Child." 
 
 The intense love of her youngest child Frances 
 for her mother, and the deep grief, told with such 
 
S8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 force in F.'s " Four happy days," reveal the 
 secret influence, that bore such a wealth of after- 
 fruit in her child's life and words. And the very 
 same Bible promises were precious alike to mother 
 and child, the very same hymns were chosen by 
 them in dying hours, and fully has the early prayer 
 been answered — 
 
 " Bring me, oh bring me to Thy house of light, 
 That there with my loved mother I may dwell, 
 And e'er rejoicing in Thy presence bright, 
 May praise Thy love, who doest all things well." 
 
 F. R. II. 
 
 November 1846. — My mother was so ill that het 
 absent children were sent for, and my Aunt Stratton 
 came. Brother Henry was the first to arrive, and 
 kneeling by her, with her hand on his soft hair, she 
 said, "There is nothing like loving the Lord Jesus, 
 He is indeed precious — such a Saviour ! I think 
 that ever since I was sixteen years old, I have 
 really loved Him, but not of myself, it is God's free 
 mercy that gave me the least spark of living grace ; 
 no merit, no righteousness in me.'' 
 
 Directing something to be done orderly, mother 
 added, " What order there will be in heaven ! " 
 When taking food, " The bread of life is mine, I 
 shall soon be adinitted to the marriage supper of 
 the Lamb." To my father, " I hope lam safe ; 
 nothing of my own to trust in, all vile and worth- 
 
7-IIE COMMUNION OF THE SICK. ' 59 
 
 less, nothing to be satisfied with in myself, the 
 merits and righteousness of Christ are my only 
 trust. In the night it was as if the heavens were 
 open to me, and, like Stephen, I saw Jesus inter- 
 ceding for me." When we were all watching 
 around, my mother said, " Dear children, few 
 mothers are so blessed as I am in you — it is 
 God's love." By her wish, it was arranged that we 
 should join with her in commemorating the death 
 of Christ. Previously, she contrasted our service 
 with that of extreme unction " Of what avail 
 could that be — enough for me that I am complete 
 in Christ. I seem to see those words emblazoned 
 in shining light, ' It is finished,' the whole work of 
 redemption completed for me." (Years after, hef 
 child wrote, "It is finished" is the central word of 
 eternity !) Calling Fanny, she told her to go and 
 change her frock. " You are going to see us receive 
 the Sacrament, darling ; if you live to grow up, I 
 hope you will understand it, and partake of its 
 inward grace; never forget you first saw it in your 
 dying mother's room. It is the emblem of Christ's 
 love in dying for you — for me." 
 
 Some hours afterwards, my mother said how 
 much she enjoyed the time. " Oh yes, I have so 
 •much comfort, Christ is all in all to me. I find 
 Him faithful to all His promises ; in Him they are 
 indeed ' Yea and Amen.' " Then we all sang hymns, 
 
6o AUTOBIOCRAFHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 and she told us what comfort she often found in 
 repeating them and texts of Scripture. My brother 
 Henry especially ministered to her in repeating 
 Scripture and playing hymn tunes in the next room. 
 His godfather, Rev. John East, she often spoke of, 
 " Our intimacy has been a great earthly blessing — 
 such a man of God ! dear Henry, may his prayers 
 for you be abundantly answered." My mother's 
 thankfulness was ever rising. " My breakfast — how 
 new are God's mercies every morning, I feel them 
 in everything." 
 
 Saying I feared I did not do all I should for her 
 comfort, she replied, " Dear Maria, I am abundantly 
 satisfied with all your care ; I often think of poor 
 creatures who have no one to minister to them as 
 I have." 
 
 To Aunt S. : "I have often thought of that text, 
 ' Daughter, be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven 
 thee;' I too may touch the hem of His garment and 
 shall be whole. Will you repeat ' How sweet the 
 name of Jesus sounds'?" Then Henry repeated 
 "In this world of sin and, sorrow." "Yes, that 
 hytnn has often comforted me ; Henry, you sing it, 
 and I will try and join." 
 
 Often have I lamented my inability to speak to 
 others, and repeating hymns has helped me to 
 express my feelings. 
 
 Then mother chose these to be sung : " Zion, 
 
THE COMMUNION OF SAINTS. 6i 
 
 when I think of thee," " O God, our strength in ages 
 past," " There is a land," " In vain my fancy strives 
 to paint," " Whence those unusual' bursts of joy," 
 saying, " That is just the song for me ! " 
 
 But the danger passed, and our mother was 
 again able to join us occasionally. On Sundays 
 it was her delight to follow the congregation in 
 the church services. One of her windows in 
 St. Nicholas' Rectory opened close to the church, 
 so that the reading and singing could be heard. 
 And she remarked how much enjoyment she 
 gained by knowing the same Scripture was read 
 by our Church throughout the world, and thereby 
 enjoying the communion of saints, though alone in 
 her sick-room. My father too always told her his 
 texts and the outlines of his sermons. 
 
 Our sister Miriam's visits from Oakhampton 
 with flowers and fruit were a great enjoyment ; 
 and these were shared with many a cottage invalid, 
 dear father carrying them. 
 
 In August 1847, my mother was able to go for 
 change on Rainbow Hill. The refreshing air and 
 view of the Malvern Hills were very pleasant. 
 Once I stood with her at early dawn, and as we 
 watched the mist roUing away, she said, " Soon 
 will all my shadows flee away, and the bright 
 morning of eternity dawn for me." Again, " Think 
 of the distance between a holy God and sinful 
 
62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 man — such a chasm ! but all is filled up, bridged' 
 over with redeeming love. But there must be a 
 great change in the natural heart, or it could not 
 enjoy the pleasures at God's right hand." Another 
 time, reading i Pet. i. 8, " Whom having not seen 
 ye love," etc., our mother said, " I had glimpses of 
 that in the night, and rejoiced with joy unspeak- 
 able and full of glory — so, so happy 1 " Returning 
 to St. Nicholas' Rectory (it is taken down now), 
 she could again closely join in the services, and 
 even heard my father's voice in the pulpit. After- 
 wards she remarked, " I think preachers need so 
 much prayer that God's Holy Spirit will accompany 
 their word, and that God may speak through 
 them." 
 
 September I, 1847. — One of her daughters asked, 
 " Do you ever wish or pray to get better ? " 
 
 " Oh no, I pray to be prepared for worse pain 
 than this, for I do not know what God is preparing 
 for me. But what God orders must be best, — all 
 is quite right, all suffering is for my good. J do 
 not shrink from pain ; if that is God's will, I could 
 bear more, and pass through all the fiery trial 
 appointed for me. Patience is so often mentioned 
 in Scripfuire, so it must be necessary for His- 
 people." 
 
 That night mother exclaimed, " How beautiful 1 " 
 "What is beautiful?" "The hill of Zion, and Dr. 
 
ADVICE T6 little FANNY. 63 
 
 Watts' hymn, 'Come ye that love the Lord,' 
 gives me such happy thoughts. Then I have-been 
 thinking of the lovely gardens at Oakhampton, 
 and that dear little Miriam, and how I long she 
 may walk with me in the golden streets. Yes, I 
 do get happy moments even in pain, and see my 
 Saviour almost as if face to face." 
 
 January 1848. — Calling dear Fanny to her side, 
 her mother said, " Now you see dear mamma on her 
 dying bed, — you too will come to die, how will 
 you feel then if you are not safe in Christ ? I am 
 more anxious about you than your sisters, because 
 I hope their hearts are fixed on God their Saviour. 
 Always remember it would be my greatest pleasure 
 to see you loving heavenly things. When you are 
 tempted to do wrong, pray to the Holy Spirit to 
 guide you. Nothing but the precious blood of 
 Christ can make you lovely in God's sight. It is 
 my heart's desire that you may be saved with His 
 everlasting salvation. Now say that hymn, ' Life 
 is the time to serve the Lord,' and often think 
 about it." 
 
 After some very intense pain, our dear mother 
 said, "What am I that God should take notice of 
 me, even to afflict me ! Oh, why should He thus 
 care to purify me, why should He thus love me? 
 
 * Oh to grace how great a debtor. 
 Daily I'm- constrained to be i ' 
 
64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVER GAL. 
 
 Yes, grace, free grace, will ever be my song. 
 Precious Saviour, sanctify me, prepare me to see 
 Thee face to face. Oh that it may please Thee 
 speedily to deliver me from the burden of this sinful 
 and suffering flesh." 
 
 June 1848. — Dear mother said, "I am in the 
 depths of misery ; if I had been told what pain 
 I had to go through, I should not have believed 
 it possible that I could bear it. Oh, I hope you 
 will sing and rejoice for me when I am gone ; the 
 very bells should all ring for me then ! There 
 must be no mourning for me when I am delivered 
 from sin and sorrow. All things will be ready, 
 and I shall be summoned to the iriarriage supper 
 of the Lamb." 
 
 Jicne 20. — As sister Miriam and her husband 
 were supporting her, she said, at intervals, " Oh, 
 these bitter, bitter pains 1 but I know the Lord's 
 mercy will not fail me. Christ has done all for 
 my salvation, nothing else could give me comfort 
 now. My Saviour is my strength and my song. 
 It is so wonderful that my fear of death is quite 
 gone, and I have only a longing desire to die. 
 Oh, why tarriest Thou .' " Dear papa said, " My 
 dear, I think you have_ not many days now to wait 
 for Him." She replied, " Oh, praised be His name ! 
 How glorious to know that I shall soon see Him 
 who was pierced for me ! " That evening she was 
 
A PEACEFUL END. 65 
 
 easier, and listened with enjoyment while Miriam 
 played some hymns — " Come let us join our cheer- 
 ful songs," etc., and little Miriam sang Jo her, 
 " Come to that happy land." 
 
 After this time her words were very few, but full 
 of holy peace. Sometimes she exclaimed, "My 
 Saviour ! Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly." 
 
 In perfect peace our beloved mother passed 
 away on the evening of July 5, 1848. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE SISTERS' HOME AT THE MUMBLES. ' 
 
 October 1878. — Arrived at Park Villa, Caswell 
 Road, and found our thirty-two packages of home 
 books, pictures, plate, and china had arrived. 
 
 The next evening my dear sister Frances came 
 unexpectedly, and no room was ready for her. 
 Her first words were, " I am so glad to get to you, 
 Marie 1 " She was very weary and exhausted after 
 giving Bible addresses at Plymouth, and much 
 pleasant intercourse with strangers. She spoke of 
 her visit to " B. M." as a very intellectual treat 
 The elegant surroundings there were a strong 
 contrast to the carpetless bare rooms not yet ready 
 here. Her spirit of content with any lack of 
 things tasteful, though so consonant to her refined 
 nature, struck me much. 
 
 Never grumbling, but brightly setting things in 
 order with little elegant contrivances ; making the 
 most of what she had, her hands seemed a fairy- 
 wand in transforming bare rooms and walls. 
 "Give me American cloth, bright nails, and a 
 
 £6 
 
F. R. H.S STUDY. 67 
 
 hammer, and you will see, Marie 1 " So our rough 
 packing-boxes were made into music-stands and 
 tidies. How I wish F. R. H. could have been 
 photographed as the merry carpenter! deftly 
 dovetailing and contriving. We could not get 
 help at first, and so we two nailed down her study 
 carpet ; and good Tucker unpacked Frances' dear 
 study table and the Astley arm-chair, and the 
 little couch from Pyrmont Villa, and Davie and 
 Johnnie carried up the books, the remnants of our 
 father's and her own library. It was strange how 
 my darling counselled me not to bring many of 
 our pretty home things, — " it will only cumber us, 
 Marie." But I was determined her study should 
 be cosy, and have blue damask curtains to match 
 the blue chair coverings. 
 
 And now she could freely invite her friends or 
 the villagers to her study; and many a Nicodemus 
 crept up there and unburdened the sorrows or the 
 awakening difficulties in their souls, finding Christ, 
 or entering into the full blessedness of true, 
 whole-hearted consecration- to the King. If 
 F. R. H.'s study walls could speak, what messages 
 of love, what words of holy, tender pleadings would 
 they unseal ! 
 
 By seven o'clock my sister would begin her 
 " One hour with Jesus," and then the half-hour till 
 our morning prayer-bell rang was one of her 
 
68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 freshest thought times. We carried out our early 
 home punctuality to the minute, and also our early 
 retiring for the night. 
 
 In these lodgings, as elsewhere, and following 
 dear father's example, we invited the household to 
 daily prayer. When other visitors came, intimation 
 of the same was given, so that often our parlour 
 was full. My sister played and led the hymn, and 
 then came verse by verse reading. She always 
 liked me to throw out any thought or comment, 
 giving us herself some deep findings from her own 
 spoils in the Word. 
 
 Then at our breakfast, the sun shining through 
 the bow-window made our tent seem pitched like 
 Judah's, " towards the sun-rising." 
 
 Often my darling would rub her hands, crying, 
 " What emancipation ! it is jolly ! I had no idea 
 it would be such fun Uving with you, Marie ! " The 
 breakfast parlour was my room, containing dear 
 father's bust, and Astley Church, and St. Nicholas. 
 A picture of convolvuli and marguerites and ferns, 
 enwreathing brightly "Joy cometh in the Morning,'' 
 
 * 
 
 was painted for F. by dear Florence M. Photo- 
 graphs of sister Miriam's home and conservatories, 
 and her Constance's wedding group — then brackets 
 by dear nephews, and flowers were everywhere. 
 
 But the postwoman's step and knock disturbed 
 our talks, and my sister would come in, both arms 
 
LETTER-WRITING TO STRANGERS. 69 
 
 full of letters, with their too often postal burdens, 
 that frittered away the precious health and time, 
 which, but for them, would have' written volumes 
 more of rich legacies of thought. For my sister 
 always attended to letters first, answering if 
 possible by return, and often doing exceeding 
 kindness to strangers in answering their various 
 requests. 
 
 At noon a run to our cliffs. Once she wanted 
 to watch the moment of the highest tidal wave 
 — the wind was furious. Presently she turned' 
 towards me — " Marie 1 I am faint." I laid myself 
 on the grass, and drew her on me, as it was damp. 
 How ill she looked ! I had some warm lozenges 
 with me, and by and by she recovered. Very 
 slowly did I get her home. Even then F. unsel- 
 fishly said, ''I have spoilt your watching those 
 grand waves — Marie, you will be better without 
 me ! " Little did she know how tear-graven those 
 words echo even now in 1886. "Better without 
 me," — ah, I would exchange anything to have my 
 darling ! 
 
 Another day she and I strolled on the cliff, and 
 down into Caswell Bay. I left her sitting on a 
 seat, that she might be quiet, and turned upwards. 
 Presently a stranger came up the road, and sat 
 down by her. What followed I did not know till 
 three years after my sister's death. Going into a 
 
70 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Mumbles shop, the mistress exclaimed, "Then it 
 was Miss Frances I saw ! " " What do you mean ? " 
 " Oh, miss, it is three years ago — I had landed from 
 a sailing-boat in the bay, and sat down very tired. 
 The lady was singing a hymn so softly by herself. 
 Then she spoke to me — oh, so sweetly, of Jesus, 
 and the joy of trusting Him ; and she was pleased 
 I knew Him too. Just then she heard a call. 
 I looked up and saw you, miss, far on ; and the 
 dear lady just bent and gave me a gentle 
 kiss on my forehead, saying, ' My sister is 
 calling me —T- good-bye.' I never knew who it 
 was till now I know you are Miss H. and she 
 that angel." 
 
 Another day we had taken donkeys to Bishop- 
 town valley, and dismissed them at the school and 
 church. In the churchyard a mother was crying 
 while putting flowers on her daughter's grave. I 
 do not know all that F. said to her, but she 
 gently placed her hand on her shoulder with 
 "Think of the meeting, not of the parting!" 
 Simple but inexhaustible comfort ! instead of 
 our thoughts dwelling on the last looks and \yords 
 and coffin and funeral day, rather looking on — on 
 to tlie sure meeting, the loving welcome home in 
 the many mansions, where we have been long' 
 waited for. " Beside the crystal sea, I wait for 
 thee." 
 
ON THE CLIFFS. 71 
 
 Another incident of her walks I give in the 
 "Memorials " when she met old John in his thread- 
 bare coat. He has shown me the very spot, far 
 down the steep cliff, and how she got a stake of 
 wood, and bidding John put his burden of wood 
 down, passed the stake through, and lifting one 
 end she helped to tug it up the cliff, and then 
 called Davie to conclude it through the village, for 
 she would not do things to be looked at. 
 
 The winter was severely cold, but my sister 
 bravely visited every house both in Newton and 
 many of the Mumbles cottages with almanacs and 
 books. I have tlje hammer and nail box she 
 carried to put them up. 
 
 The village school was her untiring delight — 
 singing with them, and giving Bible-class lessons, 
 and then finally made the offer of a new Bible to 
 each who repeated perfectly the fifty-third chapter 
 of Isaiah. 
 
 It was much impressed on me to get to the 
 Union Workhouse, standing far up the hill of 
 Ceyfan Bryn. I did not know the way, but 
 thought by sleeping at the Gower Hotel I could 
 walk there and back the next day. So I laid in 
 packages of gingers and peppermints, and tea, and 
 books, and tracts. But snow fell, and it was far 
 too deep to risk unknown paths. Still I longed to 
 get there somehow. I was told a 'bus left Swansea 
 
72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 at 5 P.M., and thereby I could cross the moor, 
 arrive at the hotel at 8 P.M., and so in the morn- 
 ing visit the Union. It was a weary wait till 
 the 'bus started at six from Swansea, whither I 
 went by train. A deserted wife and her children 
 were my companions, and a man. Soon the driver 
 stopped. " All please to walk up this pitch " — icy 
 indeed ; then in again, rattling over the wild 
 moor, the moonbeams on the snow and the desola- 
 tion — I might have been in Switzerland ! and 
 enjoyed it accordingly, quieting the children with 
 gingerbread. The man listened respectfully to the 
 snow lessons that sparkled around. Nine o'clock 
 P.M., and we drove up to the Gower Hotel. " Can 
 you give me a quiet room, please ? " and seeing the 
 look at my late appearance, added, " I am a clergy- 
 man's daughter, and am going to visit the Union." 
 " Pray, step in, ma'am — it's a bitter night. Very 
 sorry, but we have no rooms in the winter." " Can 
 you tell me of one in a farmhouse? If it was 
 summer, I could sleep in the hay I " " No, miss, 
 nothing at all. You had best go on in the 'bus to 
 the inn at Reynoldstone." But the 'bus was gone ! 
 and I stood roofless under the stars and on the ice I 
 Then the woman directed me to a Mrs. Jenkins, 
 where once the curate lodged. That was hopeful ; 
 and off I tramped merry enough, but very cold. 
 Soon I heard running behind me, and a lassie who 
 
L ON EL Y RAMBLES. 73 
 
 exclaimed, " I could not catch you. Mistress sent 
 me after you to show you the cottage." " That is 
 kind. What is your name ? " " Mary Tucker.'' 
 And so my little guide turned out to be niece 
 to our good landlord at Park Villa. Knocking 
 at Mrs. J.'s door, the very picture of a Welsh 
 wifie, trim and clean, appeared, when I repeated 
 my only certificate, that I was a clergyman's 
 daughter going to the poorhouse, and nowhere to 
 sleep ! " Come in, come in 1 " were welcome words 
 at 10 P.M. Such a fireside, and such a white cosy 
 bedroom all ready. After thawing, such tingling 
 pain and fever came on, I thought I never should 
 move again. While getting my supper, a knock 
 at the door. "Please, have you got any rasp- 
 berry vinegar?" "No, indeed — good-night." That 
 question struck me ; some one must be very ill, 
 some one might be dying — might, oh, might this 
 not be the answer to that strange impulse to brave 
 such a journey? Enquiring, I found that a lady 
 was very ill in a mill near ; that she was come 
 from Bath to die near her old Gower home. Much 
 I prayed that night that if this was to be my 
 King's errand, the door might be opened for me. 
 So I called next day, explaining how accidentally 
 I heard of the illness. Readily was I shown 
 upstairs. The unmistakeable shadow of death 
 had fallen on the sufferer with cancer, and all its 
 
74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVER GAL. 
 
 attendant suffering. She thanked me warmly, 
 listened eagerly, and seemed just to need the 
 voice in the wilderness to clear away the fear and 
 doubt; she wanted the finger to point to the 
 Lamb of God — to the atoning blood which 
 cleanseth from all sin. (I did not take notes, so 
 I make up no conversations.) Just as my visit 
 was ended, worthy Philip G. drove up with a sack 
 of corn. Depositing that at the mill, he gave 
 me a seat, for he was going as guardian to my 
 ultimatum, the Union. 
 
 It is a wondrous view from the Union windows : 
 below, the Needles Bay with the three Aiguille 
 rocks ; through the trees the church tower ; away 
 to the right, Oxwich Bay with its sweep of sand ; 
 and to the north, the summit of Ceyfan Bryn, from 
 whence you see the peculiar boot-shaped promon- 
 tory of Gower. 
 
 Gwyn's introduction secured me the entrance to 
 all the wards. Dear old pilgrims, some in the land 
 of Beulah, some groping in by-paths. Old blind 
 Nanny was specially happy with hot butter toast 
 and tea! and she assured me the Union was 
 " almost like heaven ! Jesus Christ loved her, and 
 she could sing to Him now." One lonely man's 
 history was sad indeed — a clergyman's son. My 
 impression was he had been wronged, and his 
 rightful mother's property wrested from him. 
 
COMFORT IN THE UNION. 75 
 
 I saw many proofs of how much comfort is 
 utterly in the hands of the master and matron. 
 Here the home-made bread and butter, the currant 
 cake I saw in the orphans' bags on their way to 
 school ; and going into the kitchen, the matron 
 showed me the potato scones she was frying in 
 dripping — " Such a treat in the wards, miss. I 
 never sell my perquisites; and if it's cold-meat 
 dinner, I make warm gravy and put it on their 
 potatoes ; it's a pleasure to make the most of their 
 food for them." Matrons and masters may live a 
 noble life of unseen ministries of love, or they may 
 screw down to desperation the helpless ones, whose 
 cry reaches only One, who will avenge. Work- 
 houses have ever been a special visiting interest ; 
 and many a tale could I have written years ago of 
 histories told to me. 
 
 After three or four hours among the wards, the 
 mistress gave me refreshment, and then I mounted 
 Gwyn's trap for the drive home. He waited while 
 I called again on the dying one — the life fast 
 ebbing out into the deep ocean of eternity. Surely 
 the clinging clasp would be met in the strong hand 
 that is never shortened that it cannot save. 
 
 Often again in spring days did I revisit Ceyfan 
 Bryn. Once I went down to Puldy, and up by 
 High Pennard, and so over the cliffs — a lonely 
 ramble of hours — till I met a Welsh shepherd. 
 
76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. IIAVERGAL. 
 
 Offering him a book, his answer was, "I think you 
 love my Lord." 
 
 "Yes ; how glad I am you can say ' my ' ! " 
 He loolced intelligent, and his remark was 
 forcible. " Did you ever notice in the GospelS; 
 that our Lord was never present at a deathbed ! — 
 He saw the bier, He stood by the damsel and the 
 grave of Lazarus ; but death could not face the Lord 
 of Life!" Naming this to my sister F., she 
 pondered it, and not long before her departure 
 referred to it, also saying, " It is true, and our 
 Lord's words, ' If a man keep my saying, he shall 
 never see death,' confirm it. The believer will 
 so see Jesus that he cannot see death at all ! 
 isn't that splendid ! " To her this was soon a 
 glorious reality; her eyes verily met the King's 
 coming unto her, and so death was left behind 
 her — not even a shadow dimming that bright 
 tryst. 
 
 The winter was most severe, and my alpenstock 
 was useful in the icy lanes. I can't think now how 
 I took the almanacs to every cottage in far-off 
 villages. Returning one day, I passed a farm- 
 house of the better class, with a drive up and a 
 porch. I was tired out, but hurried up to the door. 
 " Ask your mistress if you may take these alma- 
 nacs " (I always bid servants ask leave). A pleasant 
 kindly person came out and said, " Certainly, and I 
 
COALEY MEMORIES. 77 
 
 -should like one for the parlour. May I ask your 
 name ? " 
 
 " I do not think you can know it ; we are 
 strangers ; but it is Havergal." 
 
 " Havergal ! why, that's the name of that good 
 curate in Gloucestershire my old uncle is always 
 talking about." 
 
 " It must be my father, then, for he was curate at 
 Coaley in Gloucestershire, fifty years ago." 
 
 "Coaley !" said my new friend, "why, that's my 
 birthplace ! " 
 
 "And mine too ; so we must shake hands." So, 
 in the far-off Gower, that ice-cold day, the loved 
 name of my father, remembered and revered, 
 warmed me thoroughly. I often called afterwards, 
 and heard glowing memories of his early labours in 
 the Lord. 
 
 One more coincidence arising from that wintry 
 visit. Many weeks after, when my beloved sister 
 was dying, a stranger then visiting at this farm 
 called asking to see me. Reluctantly I went down, 
 and there stood R. Kingscote of Kingscote, once 
 my father's pupil at Astley, whom I had not seen 
 since I was " little Maria," and now he was a veteran 
 in the King's service. He spoke most warmly of 
 my father. I asked him to pray with me, for I was 
 sorely troubled. It was soothing, and his farewell 
 words often come back to me with the King's 
 
•jS AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 ^ower : " Nothing can break our relationship ! " i.e. 
 once in Christ, God is our Father, Christ our 
 Brother, for ever and ever. 
 
 Another freezing day I went a long round, pray- 
 ing some work might turn up. In a lonely farm I 
 was told of a dying farmer at some distance, and 
 the information that " he didn't see his danger, body 
 or soul," led me to earnest prayer. The lanes were 
 slippery and all ice-bound ; but my sister had 
 taught me the firm heel-stepping on glaciers, and I 
 delighted in the keen air. Certainly my brisk 
 powers of walking have been unusual ; in Ireland 
 I was called " the walking lady," as my father was 
 called the ," lithomest man in England." I found 
 Thomas Jones far on in consumption, without a 
 glimmer of light for the valley. He asked me to 
 come again, and again the Holy Spirit, the Lord 
 and giver of life, blessed the words of Jesus : " The 
 entrance of Thy words giveth light ; " " He that 
 heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent 
 me hath -everlasting life " (John v. 24). O blessed 
 grammar ! O joy-giving present tenses ! It is a 
 marvellous, ever-perpetual " now ! " 
 
 Thomas sent for m.e when dying, to thank me 
 for bringing him to Christ, and died in sure 
 hope. 
 
 Christmas Day, 1878. — My sister was very ill, 
 and yet she arranged on a tray presents for all in 
 
THE LAST VISIT TO "LONDON. 79 
 
 the house, and she sent Mary with warm cuffs and 
 comforters to many cottages. It was the first 
 Christmas without singing my dear father's carol, 
 " How grand and how bright ! " 
 
 Dear Frances and I had some time before 
 returned the call of an aged and saintly pilgrim — 
 a clergyman's daughter living in retirement. Her 
 carpetless , floor caught Frances' attention. She 
 consulted with me how to send a warm carpet as a 
 Christmas gift, and so we managed that it should 
 surprise her. Very sweet was that brief inter- 
 course, now resumed for ever. 
 
 Towards the end of January 1879, dear Frances 
 went to London. I plaited some fine tulle ruch- 
 ings, which suited her well, and how pleased she 
 was, saying, "That will do if I go to the Duchess 
 
 of ." I entreated her to get a sealskin jacket. 
 
 " I never had one, Marie ; I will think about it." 
 Dear sister, instead of getting the needed sealskin, 
 she bought two fur cloaks and made presents of 
 them, and just got a plain cloth jacket for herself 
 All through life she ever gave to others rather than 
 supply her own wants. 
 
 Dear Frances was absent three weeks in London. 
 Many saw her, and it was the last time. She told 
 me of her sha.king hands with Rev. K H. Bicker- 
 steth, as she so admired his hymns, and poem 
 ' Yesterday, to-day, and for ever." And fifty years 
 
8o AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. C. HAVERGAL. 
 
 ago his honoured father and ours travelled together 
 on Church missionary pioneering work. 
 
 One morning she went unwillingly to be photo- 
 graphed. She was cold and weary, and always 
 regarded it "as resignation to torture." Messrs. 
 Elliott & Fry were most painstaking, but no ray 
 could transfer her radiant expression. Mr. Fry 
 treasures the basket and crochet she held. The 
 standing pose, with her large Bible, I think is the 
 best. 
 
 Frances told me of a very pressing offer of 
 marriage in that London visit, and how difficult it 
 was to shake off the " pure and holy love laid at 
 her feet." 
 
 In writing her Memoir I did not allude to several 
 such proposals all through her life, or the one secret 
 disappointment which gives a minor in some of her 
 poems. But I may now say my sister bravely and 
 unreservedly severed a correspondence and friend- 
 ship which, though it scathed her heart, brought 
 her into the fullest joy of being henceforth " only 
 for Jesus." This bitter fruit yielded an afterwards 
 of exceeding sweetness, and enabled her to counsel 
 others who were tempted with the golden chain of 
 matrimony under the delusion that they might win 
 their beloved one to Christ. " Only in the Lord " 
 was my sister's safe rule and practice. 
 
 During our evenings in the last spring, dear 
 
A MUSICAL EVENING. 8i 
 
 F. told me many incidents I cpuld not print 
 in the Memoir, so I shall only record some as 
 bearing on her life-story. At this time she was 
 revising the proofs of Life Mosaic, and when the 
 copies came down, with their Alpine illustrations 
 and artistic borders, F. exclaimed, " Oh, I should 
 so like to send one to the Princess Beatrice ! 
 You know, Marie, I so specially pray for her." 
 Then F. told me of an incident that led to this 
 loyal wish coming to pass. 
 
 During a previous visit to London, Frances was 
 invited to an amateur musical evening. Some 
 classical music was rendered, and F. was espe- 
 cially riveted by the iinished singing of an 
 Italian lady. Presently my sister was invited, last 
 of all, to the piano. True to her resolve, " Let me 
 sing only, always, for my King," she chose a song of 
 Handel's. Then the hostess gracefully pressed for 
 one of her own compositions, so she sang, " Whom 
 having not seen ye love." She always sang so 
 rejoicingly the words, "Though now ye see Him 
 not, yet believing ye rejoice," up the scale of joy 
 — she knows better now — and then the deep ador- 
 ing thrill, " With joy unspeakable and full of glory." 
 The rooms were hushed, and then the Italian 
 stranger, with tears in her eyes, sought her as she 
 left the piano, with " Miss Havergal, I envy you ; 
 your words and face tell me you have something I 
 
82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 have not." I may Hot write more detail, but this 
 lady knew well the Princess Beatrice. . And as 
 pleasant correspondence followed this interview, 
 F. ventured to express her longing for Life 
 Mosaic to reach the Royal Princess. And it was 
 graciously accepted, and Her Royal Highness's 
 autograph was written beneath her charmingly 
 sensible face, and sent to my sister, with a pleasant 
 assurance that H.R.H. Princess Beatrice admired 
 her poetry. In my sister's desk there still lies, 
 where she placed it, the Royal portrait. Here 
 again this explains the entry in F,'s "Journal of 
 Mercies " — " For reaching the Princess Beatrice." 
 
 Long after my beloved sister had passed beyond 
 the reach of praise, we were gratified to see an 
 extract from our sister's lines on " September " 
 enwreathed by the same Princess with heather and 
 autumnal leaves in her artistic Birthday Book. 
 
 So that test of singing only sacred words brought 
 about this pleasant Royal favour to the truly loyal 
 singer for her King. 
 
 Another anecdote I must veil as to names and 
 locality. 
 
 My sister was requested to call on some young 
 ladies who had come for the season of hunting and 
 balls. The call was followed by a walk, and then 
 an invitation to luncheon." She went prayerfully, 
 and it was well. There she found a clever, dashing 
 
AN UNPLEASANT VISIT. 83 
 
 Stranger, who launched a severely critical attack 
 on religion in general, asking my sister her opinion 
 of theatres and plays and operas, and then ridi- 
 culing her replies. The sneer was not even 
 covert, and never had F. been so painfully and 
 ungenerously quizzed. She quietly endured it ; 
 the host seemed perplexed. The mother was an 
 invalid, and not present. The ordeal over, my 
 sister was invited to visit the invalid mother, and 
 there she found an eager listener as she told of the 
 peace in Jesus, the utter rest for the world's weary 
 ones. 
 
 Then the ladies proposed a walk, which F. 
 would have declined, but the host said, " I shall 
 have the pleasure of walking with Miss H.," so 
 further attack was checkmated. 
 
 Frances had just returned from abroad, and had 
 visited the fortifications at Belfort and other 
 Franco-German places. She gave a lively descrip- 
 of these, and also showed her accurate knowledge 
 of fortification, which extremely amazed and de- 
 lighted the courteous general. 
 
 But the lady's attack left F. but one course ; 
 she wrote a polite note that she would not 
 again call, and could only remain their silent and 
 sincere friend. 
 
 Some months after, F. received a note of 
 apology and distress for the pain given her. 
 
84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Without giving details, I will say that my sister 
 was blessed to all the family; and that general 
 knelt with F., and gave his allegiance to her 
 King, and the invalid's welcome to my sister's 
 visits was a pleasant " afterwards." 
 
 Once when she was about to converse with a 
 clergyman, she said, " Marie, when an hour is up, 
 come in." There was F., her hand waving, 
 and I just caught this characteristic end of her 
 talk, "Oh, why don't you preach the gospel of 
 Christ?" Answer, "My congregation are well 
 educated and well acquainted with the truths of 
 salvation ; if they were Zulus, I should preach 
 differently." F., "Then I will be a Zulu' next 
 Sunday, and just preach at me ! " To her delight, 
 a real gospel sermon was the result. 
 
 My sister strongly believed in the power of 
 intercessory prayer, and gave me this glimpse. 
 " Conversations are no use without prayer. There 
 
 was Mrs. , whom I specially wanted to attend 
 
 our Young Women's Christian Association meeting. 
 The night before, I prayed for her only, till very 
 late, that the Lord would graciously reveal Himself 
 to her, and that she might receive the full blessing. 
 Next day I saw her come in. I was asked to take 
 one of the prayers. I prayed, believing that there 
 was one kneeling among us, waiting and desiring 
 to receive the blessing. I pleaded that the Lord 
 
MIGHTY INTERCESSIONS. Sj 
 
 would then give it her in all its fulness, that He 
 had promised they who asked should receive, and 
 I believed Him. When we rose from our knees, 
 
 Mrs. ■ just turned towards me, and her face 
 
 was simply transfigured. I saw the answer was 
 given. We had no conversation till some days 
 after ; she then told me of the fulness of her joy 
 and peace in Christ Jesus Himself." 
 
 Doubtless many young ambassadors in Christ's 
 Church are even now reaping the legacy of those 
 mighty intercessions. And yet my sister could 
 sympathize with those whose prayers seem un- 
 answered ; and after her death I found a book 
 with many initials only, and this clue, " Unanswered 
 petitions ; " and a longer list of initials with " That 
 these may be fully consecrated." But every such 
 burden was cast on her Lord. I copy one of our 
 talks. 
 
 "Do you think, Marie, that this simile holds 
 good : that when we first cast our burdens on the 
 Lord, He cuts the strings that bind it on, then if 
 we gave a leap it would all slide off; if we don't, 
 it sticks, and on we go, toiling up hill, — I mean 
 if we just thanked and praised at once, and 
 believed the Lord took the burden, it really would 
 be gone .■" " 
 
 Marie. ",Were you thinking of the burden of 
 sin.?" 
 
86 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Frances. " Yes, or of any other trial, aggravations, 
 — things one can't bear." 
 
 M. " If the Lord carries us, then He carries our 
 burdens too." 
 
 F. " Ah, there our ' Little Pillow ' for last night 
 comes in. 'I will carry you,' — how safely, how 
 tenderly a child is carried, it does not see the 
 way 1 " 
 
 M. " Is not carrying His first and last act — the 
 lost sheep carried on the shoulder — the departing 
 spirit carried to His bosom ; so He bringeth them 
 to the haven." 
 
 F. "Yes, but perhaps the winds won't carry the 
 vessel in just the tack one expects." 
 
 My sister's needlework was most rapid and 
 perfect. She would say, " People never give me 
 credit for ii'jedlework ! I do like getting a whole 
 pile of socks to mend when I visit busy mothers ; 
 and at the missionary working-parties it amused 
 me to see my plain sewing handed round ! " 
 
 Then how delicious Fan's touch on the pianette 
 she bought specially for me! Sometimes rapid 
 waves of melody, rising, falling, ebbing into softest 
 ripple, then full glorious chords, so reminding me 
 of dear father's harmonies. Often she sang for me 
 her recitative and air to the words in Isaiah xii. : 
 "And in that day thou shalt say, O Lord, I will 
 praise Thee : though Thou wast angry with me, 
 
THE LOST SONG. 87 
 
 Thine anger is turned away, and Thou comfortedst 
 me." Then a brilliant, "Behold, God is my sal- 
 vation ; I will trust, and not be afraid," — the very 
 shout of a victor. But the third verse, " Therefore 
 with joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of 
 salvation," was real water music, the notes seemed 
 sparkles of water dropping gladly, and the illusion 
 was so perfect that one's soul seemed refreshingly 
 sprayed with joy 1 Alas ! that priceless manuscript 
 is lost. Frances had written it all down within a 
 few days of her death. I believe my sister told me 
 she had sent it to some critic. I have inquired and 
 searched vainly for this " my lost chord." The 
 melody floats through and through me still, yet 
 strangely I cannot sing it. Dear Cecilia is the 
 only one who remembers somewhat of its melody. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 SUFFERING AND SUPPORT. 
 
 In May 1884 circumstances led me to visit the 
 Old Rectory, Cavendish, Suffolk. Dear Nurse 
 Carveley invited me to be her guest for a few days. 
 She had prepared for me such tasteful rooms, with 
 photographs ajid hymns of my dear sister Frances 
 everywhere. The Old Rectory is a charming 
 boarding-home for ladies, Mrs. Green supplying 
 most liberally every comfort. I remained here 
 some weeks, much enjoying the quiet, and also the 
 pleasant society of other ladies. It has a large 
 garden, shady walks, and a delightful abundance 
 of garden fruit, which we gathered at any time. 
 Mr. Green conducted family prayers, and the order 
 and punctuality suited me. It was a time of pre- 
 paration for a sudden page in my life, which more 
 than any other proved the faithfulness and loving- 
 kindness of my Lord. It is to glorify Him that 
 I testify how, in minutest need as well' as greater. 
 His strength was sufficient for the day. My health 
 was variable, occasional sickness and weakness; 
 
 88 
 
AN ALARMING DISCO VER Y. 89 
 
 but still I could walk far, and was in good spirits 
 and able to amuse the guests with accounts of my 
 walks and talks in Ireland and Switzerland, and 
 on Sundays giving simple Bible talks after hymn- 
 singing and prayer. 
 
 It was Sunday night when, preparing for rest, 
 I quite suddenly felt a large hard substance 
 extending under my right arm. The conviction 
 flashed upon me — " This is cancer." I trembled a 
 little, but knelt down and simply prayed my Lord 
 that, if it was so, I might glorify Him, and 
 patiently bear all that might be coming. It was 
 a solemn night, with thoughts of eternity nearing, 
 and oh, the peace of resting one's whole self on the 
 word of Jesus, on His precious blood ! In the 
 morning, kind Mrs. G. tearfully confirmed my 
 idea, but I decided at once that I would not 
 distress my dear sisters or friends, and only wrote 
 to my doctor. His answer was reassuring, — I 
 might be mistaken, and of course he reserved 
 opinion till he saw me. I was positively light- 
 hearted, for had I not committed the whole burden 
 to the Lord ? I was anxious to finish writing out 
 the journal and hymns of my cripple friend, Joseph 
 Harrison. For I alone had the MS., and so it 
 would be my fault if his little candle was not 
 set on the candlestick. Many other papers and 
 bequests I arranged ; and I remember the very day 
 
90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 before I was going to my doctor, Frances S, 
 writing to say she was waiting for my preface to 
 the second volume of F. R. H.'s Poetical Works, 
 which she was arranging for me. Prefaces ought 
 to be pith. As this was my tenth, it was a little 
 difficult to prepare, especially as I was not at all 
 well. 
 
 The next day Mrs. G., Miss A., and Mrs. 
 R. kindly came with me as far as Cambridge. 
 I had asked my dear friend Mrs. Snepp to let me 
 stay at Perry Villa, so as not to go near my sister's. 
 Perry Villa is full of holy remembrances. There 
 my dear sister Frances was often the honoured 
 . guest, and her memory mingles with much labour 
 unto the Lord, whether in classes, choir, or joint 
 editing of Songs of Grace and Glory with good Mr. 
 Snepp. " Many a hymn Miss Frances has written 
 there," said the maid. " Ah, she was loved ! " 
 
 It was soothing to me to wander in the lovely 
 garden and the shady walk to church, and I could 
 rejoice for them — the holy sleepers — now spirit- 
 free and serving their Lord with songs of glory 
 only. 
 
 I had arranged for my nurse, M. Farrington, to 
 meet me at Dr. Malins'. He told me I was look- 
 ing in very much better health. " And now, doctor, 
 you must tell me candidly what is the matter." 
 He looked grave, sat down silently, then most 
 
THE DOCTOR'S VERDICT. 91 
 
 feelingly said, " It is stone cancer, and not a shadow 
 of escape from this conclusion." 
 
 " So I thought ; what do you advise ? " 
 
 " Only two courses — operation, or, if it runs on, 
 certain death." 
 
 " Now, doctor, why can't you do it at once, this 
 afternoon, and so save my friends .' " 
 
 " Impossible ; you don't know what an operation 
 involves, and you would like to have a sister with 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ! Mrs. Crane is abroad, and as to 
 making my gentle sister Ellen suiifer for me, oh, 
 never, never ! Mary is quite enough, and you 
 know He whom I trust in will be with me.'' 
 
 " It is absolutely necessary your friends should 
 know. I will write to-night." 
 
 Promising to secure suitable apartments for 
 nurse and self, we left Dr. M., and I returned to 
 Perry Villa. Heaven seemed nearer ! the very 
 clouds looked chariots, and oh, might it be I was 
 really going beyond them. Sunday was the perfec- 
 tion of rest and enjoyment, and I talked with the 
 maidens on the garden - seats with their Bibles. 
 Monday a telegram, shortly followed by kind Mr. 
 Shaw and dear Ellen. It was the worst of all to 
 distress her; but I think she was relieved and 
 astonished at my good spirits and strength. 
 
 Tuesday night, July 22. — Drove to the lodgings, 
 
92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 laden with flowers, fruits, and luxuries, from kind 
 Mrs. S. Such a happy thought stole over me as 
 I went into my new room ; there I should be shut 
 in with Jesus ! 
 
 Arranging the exquisite flowers was a great 
 pleasure, and unpacking many a token of dear 
 ones at Winterdyne. I slept fairly well, and quite 
 enjoyed my breakfast. Sweet promises floated 
 around me, and not a flutter of fear ; verily it was 
 the enfolding of His wing. Presently Dr. M. 
 came in, and asked if he could do anything for me. 
 I said " Yes ; will you kneel down with me ?" I just 
 committed myself into God's hand, asked for quiet- 
 ness, and that I might glorify Him ; for skill to my 
 doctors ; and then, " Thy will be done " came gladly 
 from my heart. My doctor's reverent " O Lord, 
 grant this, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen," was a 
 sustaining clench to me. He left me. I prepared 
 and stamped a telegram for Winterdyne. I opened 
 my dear Bible ; my eye rested on Hosea ii. 19, " I 
 will betroth thee unto Me for ever; yea, I will 
 betroth thee unto Me in righteousness, - and in 
 judgment, and in loving-kindness, and in mercies." 
 
 What could be sweeter ! This then was a second 
 betrothal time to my Lord " in judgment," quite as 
 needful as the long ago time of first love. Love, 
 all love and faithfulness, and His strong arm closed 
 around me as the doctor opened the door and 
 
SILENCE AND DARKNESS. ' 93 
 
 said, "All is ready." Resolutely I inhaled the 
 ether, the inevitable suffocation feel was conquered, 
 and then all was silence and darkness for three- 
 quarters of an hour. Then the waking up — " Mary, 
 when will it be over ? " " It's all done ; see, you are 
 nicely in bed, and doctors gone." Then came the 
 consciousness of utter weakness and helplessness. 
 But truly, not one thing had failed me — not one 
 word of all His good promises had been unfulfilled to 
 me; and now underneath were the everlasting arms, 
 in a manner only those know who have felt them. 
 
 I did not know till some weeks after how 
 graciously God had answered my prayer, that I 
 might glorify Him before the doctors. I had 
 placed on the wall the identical card which my 
 dear sister Frances called " My own text," — " The 
 blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from 
 all sin." My nurse said to me, " Before you were 
 conscious of speaking at all, you preached a 
 splendid sermon on the blood of Jesus Christ." 
 
 The next few days passed in excessive weakness, 
 and the sultry weather was against me. But I 
 believe my teetotalism of sixteen years greatly 
 contributed to my recovery. A friend of mine 
 who was operated on, and'kept up afterwards with 
 brandy and milk and opiates, could hardly walk on 
 two sticks at the end of ten months, whereas in 
 three months I was walking to the top of Malvern 
 
94 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Hill. Of course I had a specially skilful doctor, 
 and I shall always gratefully recall his unremitting 
 care and his truthful candour, when Ihave asked him 
 as to the probable issue of symptoms. I do respect 
 a doctor who can say, " I never let my patients die 
 in the dark," or who will say, " This is a glimpse 
 into eternity." I do think it is so wise and kind 
 when the medical eye sees a fellow-traveller nearing 
 eternity to tell them plainly. The secret fear and 
 dread of death may be there, and false hopes of 
 life may lead them to defer the momentous looking 
 into their soul's safety till it is too late — too late 
 for ever and ever. 
 
 Nothing could exceed the devoted and unceasing 
 watchfulness of my dear nurse. With all my 
 attempts to concea.1 my wakefulness, I never could 
 deceive her. I rarely slept after four, and used to 
 watch the sun's finger of light moving on the 
 opposite wall. One almost remarkable source of 
 comfort was the distinctness with which I recalled 
 dear Frances' singing and playing. Every chord 
 and note, both of accompaniment and words, 
 sounded softly around. Sometimes it was Handel's 
 " Comfort ye," " Rejoice greatly," or " He shall feed 
 His flock." Sometimes it was her own melodies. 
 Often when she had sung, "When thou passest 
 through the waters I will be with thee," I had said, 
 " Fan, dear, I only hope you will sing that to me 
 
MEMORIES OF HOLY SONG. 95 
 
 when I am dying." Now I heard it all again, and 
 her thrilling emphasis on the word " /," and then 
 those lovely soothing chords hushing down every 
 ripple in death's river, and the last chord changing 
 as it surely will some day, into the first touch of 
 heavenly harpings. 
 
 This was not continuous, and the notes came 
 unexpectedly; perhaps when I was trying to look 
 at a verse or two and wearily closing my Bible, 
 then her recitative, " Who are kept by the power 
 of God through faith unto salvation, wherein ye 
 greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need 
 be, ye are in heaviness through manifold tempta- 
 tions," would come with irresistible power, passing 
 through all her minor chords and changing into 
 the melodious major key of "Whom having not 
 seen ye love ; " but now for her, the negative is all 
 left out, it is to her the fullest bliss of seeing Him 
 face to face ! And so my sister's ministry of song 
 flows on, and the wish of her heart is fulfilled, 
 "With my song will I praise Him." 
 
 In this illness I learnt the value of having 
 committed much Scripture to memory; for now I 
 could not dig into the mine of gold, but all my 
 store of previous diggings were a safe and shining 
 store. It is marvellous how the word of the Lord 
 speaks to one's inmost soul, supplying its every 
 need. 
 
96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 It was strange indeed for me to lose the power 
 of standing and walking, and be thankful for the 
 first lifting on to the sofa. But as soon as I was 
 told I might, I vigorously made effort to regain 
 the unused power. Your own will and resolution 
 has much to do with the regaining strength — one 
 can try ! one can shuffle and creep along by chairs, 
 and merrily determine not to give way. I 
 remember when dear Mrs. Snepp's carriage came 
 to take me a first drive, to go downstairs it was 
 the same as some precipitous glacier. How strange 
 the world looked, after seeing four walls only ; how 
 exquisite the flowers and grassy banks in the 
 People's Park ! If ever I keep a carriage, shall it 
 not minister as this one did to me ? And what 
 kindly ministries flew to me — such boxes of flowers, 
 such jellies and grapes and peaches ! Late, one 
 evening, when very feverish and thirsty, my doctor's 
 little Lina came with most exquisite peaches in 
 such a pretty box, with " To be taken immediately." 
 
 Then dear ones from Winterdyne came with all 
 the little homey things I used to like there. So 
 the Lord cared for me, and in five weeks I was 
 able to travel to dear Winterdyne. 
 
 Long after I had left Mrs. L.'s apartments, 
 where she had shown me most Christian and con- 
 siderate attentions, she told me how remarkably 
 my operation had nerved her for a far worse one 
 
WEST MALVERN. 97 
 
 soon after. I can give her words : " I often wondered 
 why the Lord sent you to my house. Other 
 invalids had come and gone, but you were to teach 
 me a lesson. I stood on the staircase when Dr. 
 M. opened your door, and said, ' All is ready ; ' and 
 never can I forget your calm, stately march into 
 that slaughter-room. I saw the support the Lord 
 gave you, and three months after it gave me 
 great encouragement ; and, I also received help and 
 comfort from the Lord in my time of trouble, and 
 my soul was filled with joy unspeakable." 
 
 September 1884. — Set out alone for West Mal- 
 vern, disregarding entreaties to take an attendant. 
 It has been one of my mercies not to be dependent 
 on others, and solitude intensifies my enjoyment 
 of hills and cloud-land. Telling the driver to take 
 me to Mount Pleasant, I decided on the cheerful 
 rooms. I could not use my right arm freely, and 
 so the mistress unpacked a hamper and saw my 
 name. She quietly said, "You have forgotten me, 
 but I knew your face directly. Your father, Mr. 
 Havergal, often called me to hold his hymn-book 
 and tell him the words (after he lost his sight) in 
 St. Nicholas Sunday school ! " Of course, I re- 
 membered her name, and my frequent visits to 
 her mother, and the musical talents of her brother. 
 So again and again my father's dear natne has 
 been my herald from north to south. 
 
98 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Family prayers were reverently announced, and 
 I joined them. An aged lady attracted me, and 
 in a few days I was told Miss C. would like me to 
 come in her cosy room. That opened the way to 
 mutual and loving intercourse. Dear aged pilgrim 1 
 her tale of ninety years was the record of God's 
 love ; but the deepest humility tinged all her re- 
 flections, and the deepest adoration her anticipa- 
 tions of the coming glory. She said to me, 
 " Every morning I look out early and see the 
 trees shining in the early dawn, and I like to 
 begin praising my Lord with the little birds. And 
 I- think it can't be long before He comes in His 
 glory and in His wonderful, wonderful love ; He 
 won't forget me, the least and most unworthy of 
 His people. And I can never thank Him enough 
 for sending you — your voice is so distinct, I 
 always hear you, and my deafness often shuts me 
 out from friends' conversations. It is a long time 
 since one of the Lord's servants was so permitted 
 to comfort me. I had a very dear friend, a Polish 
 count, who from persecutioa in his own land came 
 to reside here. His Bible readings and teachings 
 were such a help to me. We always went straight 
 to the Bible, and then straight to the Lord, and 
 that's the surest, quickest comfort." Once I took 
 her some grapes and fruit, and it seemed she had 
 been " so longing for a little dessert," but would 
 
NE IV CHURCH AT RABAT. 99 
 
 not expend on herself. She was greatly interested 
 in my tales of East Africa, and my brave mis- 
 sionary Archie, and Amy's work there. Unasked 
 she gave me half-a-crown to help build the new 
 church at Rabai, whose stones Archie had quarried 
 out under the burning sun. I believe that half- 
 crown lies with our Queen's coins in the foundation- 
 stone. And months after, when I wrote and told 
 her of little Havergal Shaw, she sent another half- 
 crown for his baby hand to give at the opening of 
 his father's church. His photograph was sent her, 
 and many a prayer ascended over it. Very strongly 
 she hoped their little son would always be called 
 Havergal, and live to be a missionary. 
 
 I really felt parting with my aged friend, and 
 her words, " My heart has been sighing for you, 
 my darling, and now it is farewell, but we shall 
 surely meet in His kingdom." (I visited her again 
 in 1885, and on June 11, 1886, she passed into the 
 glory so long watched for.) 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 FROM SIDMOUTH TO WALES. 
 
 I LEFT Sidmouth June i, 1886. The previous 
 month was one of daily pressure — letters came, 
 interviews were wanted, applications made for all 
 kinds of information or charities. Of course, it is 
 delightful to receive constant testimonies of my 
 darling sister's work, and the blessing on every 
 line she has written is so wonderful, but the labour 
 of replying is very great. I had brought down to 
 Sidmouth piles of my old diaries and MS. books, 
 hoping to arrange them and to have dear sister 
 Miriam's valuable oversight; but there they are 
 untouched, and no one else can know their dates 
 and plans. 
 
 Most pleasant were my closing calls on my kind 
 friends at Sidmouth. And oh, what a comfort it 
 was to have my Bible at hand, and thus read the 
 Word, and then with prayer commend each to the 
 Lord's safe keeping ! 
 
 I cannot describe the comfort and privilege of 
 attending the Ail-Saints' services. The orderly 
 
SIDMOUTH SER VICES. 
 
 conducting of the whole was so hke my own dear 
 father's cheery churchmanship, with nothing to 
 irritate or distract the eye ; none of those excessive 
 decorations that always seem to me desecrations of 
 God's temple, bringing in Pagan offerings or Romish 
 rites. Oh, the comfort of saying one's own Amen ! 
 and with reverent and lowly voice asking for His 
 mercy, instead of hurried intonings and irreverent 
 scrambles. Then the Rev. R. B. M.'s thoughtful, 
 logical, scriptural sermons, suggestive food that 
 you must think about and be the better for. 
 No Christless sermons, but truths radiating to 
 Him the centre, — Christ first, Christ last, Christ all 
 in all. And I freely say my Church privileges at 
 All-Saints revived and cemented my love for the 
 dear old Church of England, which did get shocks 
 and shakes from her unfaithful pastors and un- 
 Protestant innovations. 
 
 The evening communions there were indeed a 
 visit to the upper room and a quiet entering into 
 the King's banquet and the King's own presence. 
 Very strongly do 1 hold to the individual act of 
 taking the bread, not having it laid in my hand. 
 For as guilty Adam was forbidden to take — to eat 
 — to live ; so Christ my Lord reversed that pro- 
 hibition, and said, " Take — eat — live," — so I delight 
 to put forth my hand and obediently take it. 
 And then I liked our Lord's words being said 
 
102 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVER€AL. 
 
 once to each table in holy sweet silence ; for who 
 can prove our Lord kept on repeating them to the 
 apostles as often so wearisomely done ? 
 
 Farewell, All-Saints, both pastor and pastorine, 
 with your faithful, Joving labours; may rich blessing 
 descend on all, so that after many days fruit may 
 abound to the praise and glory of God. 
 
 I left Sidmouth for temporary lodgings at 
 Edgbaston — ^joined by dear cousin H. H. 
 
 June 2. — Dr. Malins called ; I had not seen him 
 or any doctor since November, and wished to know 
 candidly my present state and the possible dura- 
 tion of life. At the end of our interview he said 
 gravely, but in his own kind way, " The disease has 
 not made the progress I expected. Your general 
 health is improved, but notwithstanding all this, 
 the goal is in view." Yes, your goal is in view, and 
 you are hastening to it now. Was it not like 
 catching the sound of the Astley church bells, as 
 so often I had done when nearing home ! 
 
 Dr. Malins approved of my going to Mid Wales 
 and try bracing air with my good cousin H. H. If 
 ever travellers were told where to pitch their tent, we 
 were. I did not know even the name of the place 
 Nurse F. had passed through in 1883. I guessed 
 at Lanwrtyd Wells just before starting, and could 
 not even pronounce it right. The 'bus landed us in 
 a field, and the stepping-stones over the stream to 
 
A T CASWELL BA Y. 103 
 
 Dolgoy were almost impassable (a stranger told 
 us there were rooms). Cousin bravely jumped 
 through the spray, and soon returned with Catherine 
 the strong, who helped me over to quiet rustfc 
 lodgings. Oh such foldings of hills and mountain 
 breezes, and here we tarried thankfully. 
 
 Park Villa, Caswell Road, July 9, 1886. — 
 The prayer of months is answered 1 In past 
 days of weariness and sickness, it seemed an im- 
 possibility I could revisit our dear Welsh nest, and 
 I had honestly given up all self-will about it, leaving 
 the wish in His dear hand. 
 
 The driver of the waggonette was the first to 
 welcome me at the station. " Why, P., I never 
 put my name to the order ! " " No, miss, but I 
 knew your writing, and very glad to see you back 
 among us." There was a trophy of God's grace 
 and temperance 1 When I had an evangelist and 
 a tent for three weeks on the Mumbles sands in 
 1882, P. was one I especially prayed for; and, 
 thank God, in my sister's study he signed her 
 temperance book, with three of his sons, and after 
 I left every one of his family did so. And he 
 has stood firm five years now, and at Swansea I 
 had the pleasure of seeing him bring his wife up 
 for the blue ribbon. He became valiant, and 
 many a coachman has he won over ; yes, and 
 gentlemen too, who would tempt him with the old 
 
104 AUTOBIOGRArHY OF MARIA V. G. IIAVERGAL. 
 
 " tip and treat," have themselves paused at his 
 stedfast " No, thanks, I have something better 
 now." During our drive he told me of his 
 eldest son's death in the Brazils, and so another 
 of my sister's band has, I trust, passed into rest. 
 
 It was a glorious evening, the lighthouse stand- 
 ing picturesquely in the blue sea, and every cliff 
 and point bringing back memories of 1879. 
 
 And now I am writing in her room ! it was a 
 gracious message the Lord whispered to me as I 
 first entered it, " Thine eyes shall see the King 
 in His beauty." I was on the very spot where her 
 eyes first visibly met the King's — where her joyous, 
 loving welcome to Him was, " Oh — oh — He — He is 
 come." I can't describe that faint, dying, t-hrilling 
 tone of exquisite satisfaction ; it returns to me 
 with the smile and that wondrous musical " He " 
 — and then her life ebbing away in melody and 
 love. Yes, and she has beheld the land that is 
 very far off or (margin) the land of " far distances," 
 so expressive of those wondrous spirit flights into 
 distances of glory 1 But the message was, " Thine 
 eyes " — mine too — all dim and veiled now — " shall 
 see '' the same King ; and again as I knelt by her 
 bed, the promise came to me too, " Rejoice greatly, 
 O daughter of Zion ; behold, thy King cometh unto 
 thee," — not only going to Him, but He coming to 
 and for His sin-forgiven one. So He comforted 
 
ABIDING FRUn. 105 
 
 me. I remembered once talking over this- verse 
 with dear F., and she said, " Marie, that shall be a 
 chapter in My King, and you have made a royal 
 contribution to it. I. ought to put ' M. V. G. H." 
 under it." (See chapter vi. p. 24, "Thy King 
 Cometh unto thee ! ") 
 
 It is pleasant to find good and abiding fruit of 
 my sister's work here, though seven years have 
 passed.' I will just daily jot down exactly what is 
 said about her. 
 
 Returning from our favourite vvalk, by the fields 
 fo the old chimneys, where the sea view is gained 
 at once, and the nook in the cliff to the right, 
 where we sat riveted with the MS. of Prout's 
 Never say Die, I met the. father of Fred P. 
 Enquiring for him, the father said, " If your sister 
 had lived, she would have brought a blessing to 
 every one, she had such a way with her. Lads 
 don't take to every one, but I do believe they 
 would have given their life for her. In course she 
 didn't go on with a thing for a few hours like, but 
 she brought it to an end ; the lads loved her so, 
 and just saw into what she did ; and Miss F. in 
 course could make them do anything." 
 
 Calling on deaf Mrs. P., she kissed my hand. 
 I showed her F.'s photograph, which she wanted 
 to put in her bosom and keep. One visit 
 before this, she saw the tears in my eyes, and 
 
lo6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 said, "Vexing, vexing for her I She's happy; 
 she would not come back for a thousand worlds — 
 there's no moaning among her singing! Pretty 
 creature ! I did like to see her shake her pretty 
 curls. She come and come when my hip was 
 broken, and brought me pudding and tea and 
 gingerbread. Look ! here's Miss Frances' own 
 roll of texts ; she put a nail and hung it up 
 before me ; and the last time she brought a posy 
 of primroses — my dear Miss Frances! Here's 
 the warm cuffs she made for Christmas; I keep 
 them rolled up." 
 
 July 23, 1886. — The anniversary again of God's 
 goodness and support in 1884. I was singularly 
 happy that I was able this morning to minister to 
 a sick woman operated on yesterday. So I knew 
 how to refresh her ; and she always says it was my 
 going with a hot bottle and flannels that saved her 
 life previously. Often had I prayed in my days of 
 helplessness, that if raised up, it might be to 
 minister to others ; so the Welsh woman's thanks 
 mingle with this sentence from dear Amy in 
 Africa, " Dear Aunt Maria, our hearts are full of 
 love for you ; it always does us good even to think 
 of and talk about you. If you are spared for 
 nothing else, you certainly are to comfort and 
 encourage your missionary Africans." 
 
 And on this anniversary evening I have reached 
 
LLANDILO LADS. 107 
 
 IJandilo ! The elder class of lads in the Sunday- 
 school prayed nearly a year that I might come and 
 teach them once more. It is truly in weakness 
 and inability even to prepare a lesson, save what 
 I did on the hillside days ago. So I trust the 
 Lord will prepare me by this utter self-emptiness, 
 and that I may just bring His message, not mine 
 at all. 
 
 Tuesday, July 26. — It is all past now, my pleasant 
 Llandilo visit. 
 
 After a restless night, to find I could not rise on 
 Sunday morning threw me on the promise, "As thy 
 days, thy strength shall be ; " and I knew I should 
 be better by two o'clock. Dry bread and gruel 
 dinner ! The boys' teacher had arranged I should 
 meet the class in the open air, as I could not stand 
 the hot schoolroom. It was not far to a quiet hill 
 crowned with shady trees and dry grass in Dynevor 
 Park. I was there first to select the most comfort- 
 able place, and welcome the dear lads as they 
 came smiling up. We had a general talk first, 
 even touching on politics, as their teacher told 
 me they enquired what Miss H.'s views were on 
 Gladstone and Disestablishment. As I had lived 
 in Ireland, I gave them a few facts of what Popery 
 is, and what it will do if ever in the ascendant. I 
 knew Maynooth, and could speak of the unfairness 
 of robbing the Irish Protestant Church to enrich 
 
io8 AUTOBIOGRAPH\ OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 that. I could tell them of the loyal Bible lovers in 
 Ulster who would be driven to desperation, I 
 pictured our churches and cathedrals desecrated by 
 secularists and infidels. No Church means no 
 Queen, no God! no peace, no order. The example 
 of our Lord in paying tribute to Caesar rivets the 
 question of obeying the powers that be. In Old 
 Testament times certainly, Church and State were 
 cemehted by God. 
 
 Then we came to their own welfare, and my 
 thanks for their many messages and letters, and 
 their photographs. For these I had brought my 
 own, and gave them round with some of dear 
 F.'s books. It is always best to leave nothing 
 secular till afterwards. We knelt in prayer that the 
 power of God's Holy Spirit might descend on each 
 of us. John XV. was our portion, dwelling on being 
 in or out of Christ, being a dead or living branch, 
 the possibility of being a dead branch in Christ's 
 Church, and mistaking that for living union with 
 Him. We may be ecclesiastical branches, baptized, 
 confirmed, communicants, and yet never in Christ. 
 The evidence of life being sap flowing, fruit bearing, 
 so the living branch has the Spirit's life and the 
 Spirit's fruits. (See Gal. v. 22.) What blessed safety 
 and nearness when in Christ ! 
 
 And I testified to what I had found Jesus Christ 
 to be to me, and what I knew He was to some of 
 
JOHNNIE HO WELLS. 109 
 
 them, and how to each that loving voice now said 
 (Rev. iii. 21), "If any man hear my voice, I will 
 come in to him," etc. Then I asked them to sing a 
 hymn in Welsh. After prayer, a silent waiting for 
 God's Spirit, and it seemed an opportunity for 
 renewed yielding of ourselves to the Loving One, 
 who was so manifestly with us. 
 
 " In full and glad surrender. 
 We give ourselves to Thee. 
 O Son of God, who loved us, 
 We will be Thine alone ; 
 And all Vfe have and all we are 
 Shall henceforth be Thine own. " 
 
 As I was first on the woody height, it may be 
 I shall be first at a better and holier trysting-place, 
 and watch them safely crossing the river, and 
 resting on His holy hill. Amen and Amen. 
 
 [TVofe— See F. R. H.'s poem on the "Col- de 
 Balm."] 
 
 Not long after, I received from Edward H. 
 Davies, one in the class, a large crayon likeness 
 of myself, with indications of latent talent if not 
 genius. 
 
 Monday morning, I was off by nine to visit 
 Johnnie Howells. Kneeling down by his chair, I 
 said, "Johnnie, who is it?" "It is my friend." 
 Dear little cripple, it was worth a good deal to 
 fetch that happy smile on your pale face. He was 
 
no AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 eager to repeat all the texts and hymns remem- 
 bered for two years. And we sang again, " Jesus 
 loves me, this I know," to my father's tune. 
 " Johnnie must come and dine with me if mother 
 can manage it." He was a dear little guest, and 
 over and over he said, " My dinner is beautiful." 
 Before he went away we had a happy time ; and I 
 felt assured this was one of Christ's own lambs. 
 " Tell me, Johnnie, would you like to get quite well 
 and grow a tall man, or would you rather go to the 
 Lord Jesus ? " "I would rather go and see the Lord 
 Jesus." " So would I, Johnnie, dear ; and I think 
 we are both going soon. It will be nice to see His 
 face." When the mother came for him, she said 
 he had one wish, he so wanted to have my like- 
 ness ! " And if you please, miss, we have been 
 saving money to have our Johnnie's likeness taken 
 for you ; but I am afraid it will cost four shillings." 
 "Well, Mrs. Howells, suppose Johnnie and I are 
 taken together ! You take him now to the photo- 
 grapher ; I am leaving in two hours." It was quite 
 interesting to fix Johnnie and his crutch on an 
 easy-chair, and to see his astonished looks at the 
 surroundings. His dear little face came out beauti- 
 fully, with the King's smile on it. The photo- 
 grapher was quite interested ; and we sang his 
 hymn again. Johnnie was carried down to his 
 chair ; and as I stooped to say good-bye, he said, 
 
KkTURN TO DOLGOY. 
 
 " May we meet in heaven." Last Christmas I 
 sent a warm scarlet jacket, an accordion, a 
 scrap-book, and one shilling to Johnnie Howells, 
 North Bank, Llandilo. I wonder who will do it 
 next ? 
 
 [Note. — John Howells died in the next month, 
 August 1886.] 
 
 I returned to Lanwrtyd Wells. The surround- 
 ings of hills and mountains, lanes fringed with 
 ferns, shady woods, where many of these pages 
 have been written, quiet nooks where often I 
 have found amid the sparkles of the morning 
 dew and the early song of birds much sweet 
 soul-rest, and enjoyed soul-outpourings with the 
 Invisible. 
 
 The quiet and rest at Dolgoy improved my 
 general health wonderfully. The weather was 
 fine, and often I went out with my writing for 
 some shady seat. How strange with all the life 
 and energy I felt, with the ability to jump over 
 stiles and climb high and higher, and yet to know 
 by that hot inward monitor that my doctor's words 
 must be true, and the goal was in view ! Thoughts 
 came as rapidly as the clouds, whose changeful 
 beauty ever soothed me. How seldom you see 
 even one in a crowd ever looking up ! Clouds have 
 been one of my mercies ; their speechless lessons, 
 reflecting light, painting earth's landscapes with 
 
112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 those veilings of blue or bright shiftings of light 
 and shade. Clouds are the dust of His feet, as well 
 as His chariot. And what marvellous words have 
 come through cloud-veilings, whether on Sinai or 
 in the mystic Shechinah ! But none more marvel- 
 lous than those when the Lord entered the cloud's 
 on Mount Olivet. Contrast that mount of victory 
 with the mount of temptation, — Satan showing 
 Him all the kingdoms of this world, and the glory 
 of them, with the vauntful lie, " All these things will 
 I give thee ;" and so in the final moment of victory 
 our Lord recalls that Tempter's assault, and 
 quenches it for ever with His Kingly assertion, 
 "All power is given unto me in heaven and in 
 earth." 
 
 The mother of some of F.'s brightest " temper- 
 ance officers " told me that " the last time that Miss 
 Frances called on me, I was very low about my 
 eldest son, who had just joined the volunteers, and 
 I was afraid of the company it would get him into, 
 and she told me to pray on and trust on that God 
 would answer prayer, and she knelt with me by that 
 sofa, miss — I can't forget it — and her prayer is an- 
 swered ; my boy after that was different, and took 
 no delight in bad company. Miss Frances had 
 such a loving way, I always thank God I knew 
 her." 
 
 Mrs. W. told me that "once Miss Frances 
 
KEEPING THE FLEDGE. 113 
 
 Stopped more than an hour over my Willie — she 
 wanted to get him to Christ ; it cut my heart, and 
 I never, never did hear it put so how the Lord 
 suffered in His love. Miss F. seemed to see Him 
 on the cross straight before her." " And has Willie 
 kept on }" "Yes, miss, I do believe it, and the first 
 time he went in the vessel to France, the captain 
 gave them all 'treat money' to go ashore. Willie 
 would not touch a drop, and instead he bought 
 mother a present, and if you please he brought a 
 bottle of the best lavender scent. He said, ' I can't 
 give it Miss Frances, she's gone, but I can give it 
 her sister.' " Certainly that scent is fragrant to me ! 
 I called at L.'s, the last cottage my sister went 
 to. The son William, for whom she stitched the 
 paper bag for tracts to take to sea, had sunstroke, 
 and the poor fellow is in the asylum. I was glad 
 to hear that even in delirium he asked for his Bible 
 and sang hymns. This affliction may be a safe 
 road to the kingdom. His father spoke with tears 
 of my sister. " If ever there was an angel among 
 us, it was Miss Frances ! I was bad out and out 
 till she came ; and didn't she shake hands so 
 friendly— I never shed more tears than for her, and 
 little Ben is as firm as a rock. A man held brandy 
 and water to him and a knife, and said he would 
 cut his throat if he didn't drink it, but Ben kept his 
 pledge." 
 
 U 
 
114 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVER GAL. 
 
 Even when my sister went by the tram her words 
 flew home. A young artist sent her apple blossoms 
 painted on china, as a remembrance of her bringing 
 Christ to her on the tram-car. 
 
 Our old friends Mr. and Mrs. L. met me. 
 "Never, never can I forget her beautiful spirit, and 
 that gleam on her face — so sunny and yet always a 
 distant look, as if she saw farther than we did." 
 
 One of Frances' constant attendants at her Bible 
 reading described her standing and her face so 
 earnest, " and no one ever did play music like Miss 
 F. ; she touched up the notes sharp, and brought 
 such a sound out of them, and her voice — I 
 hear it now — no, no one ever sang like Miss 
 F. !" 
 
 July i6th. — It is pleasant that Mr. and Mrs. 
 Tucker, and Davie and Johnnie, come up to 
 prayers as in F.'s time. Mrs. T. said, " I often 
 see Miss F. as she used to stand by her piano 
 in the readings, and she spoke so earnest, every 
 word seems printed, and she made it all so clear, 
 and her hand waving up and then turning to the 
 references, and she did like us all to have Bibles and 
 follow her ; she was a blessing in my house," 
 
 Hearing that Mrs. G., our postwoman, was 
 very ill, I went down to the far end of Mumbles to 
 see her. She was in bed with incessant cough, and 
 so emaciated. I will just quote her words as I 
 
THE MUMBLES POSTWOMAN. 115 
 
 gave her Frances' photograph to look at: " Yes, that's 
 my dear, dear Miss Frances. Out of the hundreds 
 of visitors I've taken letters to — no one like her — 
 she was iny one! I can see her now, with her 
 beautiful hair so smooth, and once she said, ' You 
 think I can do nothing but write ! but you shall 
 see me sew; look at this white body I have 
 made.' 
 
 "She did work hard ; twenty and six-and-twenty 
 letters a day, and rolls besides ; she worked hard, I 
 know, but always that beautiful smile ; and when 
 I didn't bring so many \€it&rs,you would be so 
 delighted and say, ' Now she will have a little 
 holiday ! ' " 
 
 I asked, " Do you remember the last words Miss 
 F. said to you ? " " Yes, ' 1 am waiting by the 
 gates to enter in ! ' I saw her four times in that 
 illness, and she was always happy in her pain ; and 
 oh, how she wanted to go to Jesus. She said, ' He 
 won't deceive me this time.' And now I am going 
 too. I am a very great sinner, but Jesus died for 
 me. I do, do trust Him, and He has sent His 
 beautiful smile to me ; don't I look happy ? I am 
 so contented; and are you happy, dear Miss Haver- 
 gal 1 Yes, you are not altered a bit, Jesus is with 
 you, and we shall not meet again here — but there." 
 I asked her what I should ask the Lord to do for 
 her. " Oh, to wash me and keep me in the precious 
 
Ii6 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 blood. Stand one minute, I want to see your face ; 
 yes, it's happy, happy ! and we shall meet very 
 soon." So, with the " Gloria " and " Worthy is the 
 Lamb that was slain and hath redeemed us to God 
 by His blood," I knelt and commended her to the 
 God of all grace. 
 
 She then touchingly reminded me of my dear 
 brother Frank, and all he did that week in June 
 1879. " I can't forget meeting your brother on the 
 road ; he wanted the plate for that dear coffin. It 
 was registered, and he said, ' There, you shall be 
 the first to see it ! ' So he opened the Baroness's 
 parcel — hadn't she painted the roses and forget-me- 
 nots beautiful, and how quickly ; then there were 
 some of Miss F.'s last words, 'There hath not 
 failed one word of all His good promise.' " 
 
 I told her this plate was photographed and 
 printed in the book The Last Week ; so I sent 
 it down to her the next day. I could not 
 but recall how strongly F. felt for all " Postal 
 Burdens," and the employment of so many on 
 Sunday. I am so grieved that some of my sister's 
 temperance lads, now fine youtig men, are getting 
 robbed of their Sundays. Some leave their ho'mes 
 here at 4.30 P.M. to catch the train to Swansea for 
 office work, and then off with the mail train to 
 Gloucester— sorting letter's and delivering bags all 
 Sunday evening, while we are enjoying holy worship. 
 
SUNDA Y FOSTA L LABOUR. 117 
 
 Then leaving Gloucester at 2 A.M. and on till 7. 
 Very well these summer nights, but, oh, what in the 
 freezing winds ! Staunch soldiers not to get alcohol 
 then ! O nieces and nephews of F. R. H.; 
 you at least will not receive or send letters on 
 Sunday ! thus robbing thousands of their God- 
 given rest. It is true the trains go, but my 
 letters going in them make me a partaker of the 
 national sin. Never shall I forget a dying postman 
 say, " Government has paid me for my time, but 
 who will pay me for my soul ! " 
 
 I do rejoice that one dear nephew followed his 
 grandfather's example and worked nobly against 
 the tide, till he won hundreds of signatures, and so 
 secured the postmen Sunday rest. 
 
 Really my revisit here seems a continuous 
 shower of. friendship and flowers ! Such roses, 
 choice in their bloom and foldings, — what hand 
 folds like the Creator .' And the thought came 
 that the same Hand will one day fold up the out- 
 stretched heavens — " As a vesture shalt Thou fold 
 them up." All this Saturday have friends come to 
 the sacred study, and all my sympathies have been 
 drawn out in the various trials told me. Thank 
 God for giving me a word in season, and enabling 
 me to kneel again and again and commit the 
 burdens to Him. And I seem to be speaking in 
 the light of a near eternity, and so to testify to 
 
Ij8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V- G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 each of the reality and preciousness of Christ to 
 me. To one dear friend I said, " You used to call . 
 in 1879 ; my sister did not see you, but she said, 
 
 ' Marie, have you been faithful to Miss ?' 'No.' • 
 
 But when that dear voice was hushed, I told my 
 friend of this and said, ' Now I shall always get the 
 Bible and have prayer when you call.' " 
 
 Even after nine o'clock, such an elegant basket 
 of flowers and peaches seemed a climax ; but there 
 was deep sorrow in the kind donor's face, and so 
 we knelt — for Jesus of Bethany is the same to 
 sorrowing hearts now as then. 
 
 The Lord sent me sleep, for I had been on the 
 stretch all day, and it is just marvellous how I 
 forget the hot consumings within, and smile and 
 enjoy everything far more than in the days of my 
 exceeding health and strength. And then I awoke 
 on what will be my last Sunday in this dear room, 
 with the words, " I shall be satisfied when I awake 
 after Thy likeness.'' The same words that hushed 
 me the moment of my sister's awaking in glory. 
 "Thy likeness;" yes. Thine image shall again shine 
 in place of the defaced impression. "We shall be 
 like Him, for we shall see Him as He is." Dear 
 father used to say that was a spiritual photo- 
 graphy by the Son of Righteousness's appearance 
 to the rising saints, instantaneously producing His 
 glorious likeness. 
 
PRE-MILLENNIAL VIEWS. 119 
 
 Both my dear father and sister did not hold the 
 popular /r^-millennial views, and the more I read 
 the more clearly does Scripture seem to point to 
 one final coming again of Christ in glory at the 
 day of judgment. Christ's promise is, " Lo ! 
 I am with you alwaj-s, even to the end of the 
 world." All admit this is an invisible present pre- 
 sence, and, taking the words as they stand, point to 
 that same presence to the end of all things. The 
 pre-millennial view also does away with the glorious 
 outpouring of the Spirit, and the restoring of the Jews, 
 and their being the great converters of the heathen 
 world. It seems all a golden chain to me, a spiritual 
 millennium, a time of special manifestations of 
 Christ. But, oh dear, how can this curseful earth 
 be fit for His blessed feet till the consumings " of 
 the elements," and after the final judgment ! Then 
 comes down the New Jerusalem to the new world 
 out of the ashes of the old ; then the saints are 
 caught up to be for ever with the Lord ; then no 
 confusing of Gog and Magog wars, — all is over with 
 the one final advent of Christ — never to return. 
 And the pre-millennialists so wrongly put away the 
 thought of death. " Oh no, / shall not die, my Lord 
 will come." And I know where some most eminent 
 saints have had a cloudy death-bed from indulging 
 in this false hope, and their doctor says, " You are 
 dying ! " and so the fallacious hope of rising in the 
 
120 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 clouds is a mistake, and for the moment it shakes 
 their faith. Only a moment, for Jesus as surely 
 comes to the bedside as in the air. To me it is all 
 one — " to die is gain," to pass through the valley is 
 as momentary and as gloriously light as if through 
 the air. 
 
 " But this I do find — we two ave so joined, 
 He'll not be in glory, and leave me behind ! " 
 
 I remember my sister F., with her exceed- 
 ing common sense, ending a long discussion by 
 many strong pre-millennialists — «// differing widely, 
 — " I think, when our dear Lord does come, not 
 one of you will be able to say, ' There, / told you it 
 would be so ! ' " 
 
 Of course both she and I believe and rejoice in 
 the fact of His coming, as she wrote, " Thou art 
 coming, O my Saviour ; " but the time, the how, the 
 when, we leave where the Lord left it. " Of that ' 
 day and that hour knoweth no man, neither the 
 Son, but the Father." 
 
 And I do think these' dear students of prophecy 
 map out their own views and hopes, and twist 
 Scripture to support it. Also, they teach so much 
 of a coming Saviour, that they overlook the joyful 
 reality of His presence Koiw. /so look forward to 
 my body's quiet rest in the grave, and the spirit's 
 entrance into bliss, unfettered with return to 
 earth. 
 
MORNING PR A YER AND SONG. 
 
 But it is time for prayers, and Mr. and Mrs. 
 Tucker, and Davie and Johnnie, and some dear 
 little lodgers and maids, are in F.'s study. We 
 read the last chapter in the Revelation, with that 
 lift into the world above, and the throne and the 
 Lamb. Always the Lamb — in that world of glory 
 every ray, every song, every smile, must all radiate 
 back to Calvary's cross, where the Lamb slain pro- 
 cured the joys unspeakable and eternal. And then 
 I bid them mark, in verse 17, the threefold call, — 
 the " Cortie " to whosoever will. 
 
 Some stay to sing at Frances'" harp - piano her 
 words and music, " I am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus." 
 Breakfast over, a group of dear children are an- 
 nounced, and books I had given are brought for 
 inscriptions ; and again I give them words from 
 the Word of Life, and we all kneel and in that 
 consecrated place tell Jesus we do all wish to be 
 washed whiter than snow, and we will say, " Jesus, 
 I do trust Thee, trust without a doubt.'' And we 
 sing dear Frances' melody to those words on the 
 ^ame harp-piano her hands used to touch. 
 
 It is not time for service yet. There are those 
 peaches ; how they would refresh the dying post- 
 woman ! So I pack them in a basket with flowers, 
 and a copy of The Last Week, that has the floral 
 inscription Mrs. G. wished to see. Little George 
 can take the wee basket without hindering his 
 
122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 being in time for church. This gives me oppor- 
 tunity for a talk with his worthy mother, and she 
 pours out that secret heart-consuming grief — the 
 trial of suspense — when month after month brings 
 no letter- from her husband in the far-off land. 
 " You will pray for him, dear Miss Havergal .■• I 
 have so longed to tell you ! I can bear it better 
 now, and I shall feel you are praying with me." 
 We take the burden to the Lord. And it seems 
 laid upon me to find some gold that will enable her 
 to provide some little furnishings, so that she can 
 let a room. To miss the father's monthly supply 
 is a trial. Ah, dear ! the sorest hearts rarely 
 complain. 
 
 Ten minutes to spare ! so away to dear deaf P.'s 
 cottage. How Spirit-taught she is ! His voice 
 reaching the life-long silences, and she smiles and 
 points to her dear Miss Frances' text-roll. " She 
 put it on, the nail there, just where I could see it ; 
 she never forgot me." But I make signs that I am 
 going to chapel. She answers, " Miss F. always 
 went to church." So do I when Jesus Christ is 
 preached, and now failing strength will not allow of 
 the long steep walk. 
 
 Dear P. sits by me in the little chapel, and I 
 turn up all the sermon references for her, and I 
 should like to hear the commentary that lights 
 them to her mind. 
 
A TREAT FOR THE TIRED. 123 
 
 I walk home with cousin and the kindest of 
 ladies, whose gentle presence is ever a charm to me. 
 Just when tired and reaching Park Villa, there is 
 a row of maidens, smiling and curtseying. Can 
 they know me f Yes ; it is my dear old Bishops- 
 town class, come by mistake for three o'clock ! 
 Such a walk, and two hours' wait ! I had provided 
 plenty of buns, and a meat-pie ; raspberry jam was 
 quickly sent by kind Mrs. Holme, so a repast was 
 spread. And then Captain H. brought a large 
 basket of gooseberries. " See, girls, how God cares 
 for you in all this, from strangers." Yes, truly, 
 " Love is of God," whence all goodness flows. 
 
 Making enquiries for absentees, I find two of my 
 class are sleeping. Ah, teacher 1 no voice reaches 
 the coffin. Now, now, now ! is the lesson for me. 
 Thankfully do I hear that both Ellen and Ann 
 spoke of trust in Jesus, and going without fear to 
 the better land. 
 
 Our quiet room seemed favourable for close 
 questioning. I should never, never teach them 
 again, and that each might really be " in Christ " 
 was my heart's longing. The quiet, stedfast con- 
 fession of faith and trust came from each. We 
 read John xvii., that prayer of holy keeping, — the 
 prayer that still goes on within the veil, the prayer 
 that must prevail. Verse 24, that grand " Father, 
 I zvill." All through Christ's earthly ministry, the 
 
124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. IIAVERGAL. 
 
 Father's will, the Father's work, seems first ; but 
 now Christ claims His divine sovereignty, and in 
 sight of His completed atonement and ransom 
 price, gives promise of His glory. Lord Jesus, 
 Thou hast kept nothing for Thyself! Thy love 
 shares all. What earthly monarch likes his throne 
 to be halved .'' Thou givest Thyself, Thy life, 
 death, kingdom, throne, and glory 1 The listening 
 disciples had seen Thy weariness, Thy marred 
 face, and soon in the garden's shade would see the 
 sweat, like great drops of blood ; they would see 
 their Master's face with no beauty, and the bruising 
 of the serpent's heel in the death pallor ; they 
 would bind it in the death-clothes. But can, oh ! 
 can they forget this triumphant "I will " i" — "that 
 they also whom Thou hast given me may behold 
 my glory." And for me remains this -glorious 
 " behold." When the shadows are past, I shall, I 
 must, behold Thee in Thy glory. Amen. 
 
 With farewell love my dear class left me, and 
 I felt each was in the Lord's safe keeping. 
 
 I had been on the stretch for seven hours, so 
 I did not go to evening service. It was getting 
 late, when two strangers were shown in dear F.'s 
 study, apologizing for intrusion. The youngest, 
 said just this : " I had such a longing to see you 
 once more, Miss H. I must thank you for what 
 you said to me two years ago. It was your last 
 
BISHOPSTOWN SCHOOL. 125 
 
 Sunday at Bishopstown School, and you spoke to 
 me in the churchyard, entreating me to take up the 
 work you were leaving. I cannot tell you the 
 blessing that school has been to me. It was the 
 beginning of my own learning of Jesus and finding 
 in Him all grace, and then wisdom to teach. You 
 will never know the blessing j'ou were to all 
 Bishopstown, nor how that school has prospered 
 from your labours there. You began it all, and if 
 you knew how the children love you, and love 
 to talk of you ! Now Mr. T. superintends, and 
 lately I was struck to see the attention of his first 
 class — young men of 24 to 25, eagerly drinking in 
 the words spoken ; and the dear girls in your 
 class who died were safe in Jesus.'' I could but 
 say, " Lord Jesus, I thank Thee ! " And in the 
 twilight followed touching disclosings of the 
 briars, difficulty, and temptation in the young 
 disciple's path, and my heart's sympathy flowed 
 out as I counselled her to give up all for Jesus, — 
 that " only in the Lord " was imperative, but 
 would bring the King's compensating " I also for 
 thee." Prayer again, just where my sister so often 
 found the King's ear. "Farewell!" with a golden 
 after-light on Caswell Bay. " So shall thine after- 
 ward be, O Lord ! " 
 
 Supper, and exhausted. Cousin saying, " You 
 shall see no one else." How restorative hot bread 
 
126 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 and milk ! — unfailing to me these eighteen years 
 of teetotalism. 
 
 But a knock, and Loney : " If you please, could 
 you come in the kitchen ? " I did not feel tired 
 now ! and what a dozen or more of smiling, loving 
 faces are come to say good-bye ! The Lord gave 
 me words. Had I not in many a sick hour asked 
 Him to let me testify once more of what Jesus was 
 to me? — of His strong arm, strong love, and how 
 the precious blood was a peace-bringing passport, 
 when the golden gate seemed near ? As I cannot 
 remember exactly, I will write nothing of my 
 farewell. But again all sang her Caswell song of 
 trust and triumph in death. 
 
 Very gracious was the sleep sent ; once* on my 
 pillow, my strength was gone. Never mind ! such 
 a happy, happy Sunday ! 
 
 Such a good night and waking promises for 
 grace and strength sufficient for the day, which 
 I felt would be a keen severance from all the 
 surroundings of my beloved sister's last days on 
 earth. 
 
 I looked on the pictures' and texts I had placed 
 in holy memoriam. Over the last pillow, her hymn 
 in large type, " I take this pain, Lord Jesus, from 
 Thine own hand." Also the hymn she sang to her 
 tune " Hermas." Over the mantelpiece her large 
 card, "Our motto, For Jesus' sake only;" and 
 
CAT-MINISTRY! 127 
 
 beneath it her photograph.- Over the toilette the 
 words, with white lilies and ferns, " With Christ, 
 which is far better," and two coloured texts, the 
 gift of brother Henry's widow, and other of P'.'s 
 hymns. 
 
 Just as I was a little sad came the ministry of 
 cats !— ^which I as firmly believe in as of angels. 
 Enter old pussy, the mother of our Dot and 
 Trot in 1879. Every morning she had come 
 purring and loving as of old ; but to-day she would 
 not touch the milk, and restlessly departed. Up 
 aga^r^, bringing me her new little kitten Dot, and 
 off again for Trot the second, laying them in the 
 safe, dear old place. Faithful pussy ! thank you, 
 thank you. Would that we Christians purred and 
 praised more ! And your kitties are 'Ca^ facsimiles 
 of those that loving hands here caressed and 
 petted. 
 
 I must record another strange cat-ministry. It 
 was at Winterdyne in 1879-80. I was in the quiet, 
 far-up north room, where I had written nearly all 
 the Memoir of F. R. H., with hundreds of letters 
 to read and choose from. I was writing the last 
 pages, and scalding tears came uncontrollably as I 
 endeavoured to picture that holy death scene, that 
 sweet song, that radiant look, that tender, tender 
 entreaty, " O don't disappoint me, any of you ! " — 
 as if her glory would be marred if one were absent. 
 
f2S AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 No wonder the tears blinded me, when through the 
 door ajar stole in the fine cat Ginger. It jumped 
 on my shoulders and literally, gently and purringly, 
 licked the falling tears away. That soft loving 
 purring was a ministry ; and had not my own dear 
 father, as well as Frances, loved Ginger too ? And 
 so I laid my pen down and let Ginger purr and 
 soothe me. 
 
 But I must keep to this Monday, July 26, 1886 — 
 probably my last day in Caswell Bay. From the 
 study windows the bays were blue under the clear 
 sky, and Ceyfan Bryn looked tempting to ascend. 
 
 Within the surroundings are changed. F.'s study 
 table, with drawers intact, her neat desk, her book- 
 stand just as she left it, the' arm-chair she wrote in, 
 — these are all now transferred to Winterdyne. Only 
 her harp-piano and my father's music-stool, and a 
 little chair and table remain. And all her pictures 
 are safely cared for. But it has been my pleasure 
 to leave speaking mottoes on the walls. An 
 enlarged photograph, which gives her " massive 
 forehead " and holy smile, seemed to be so lonely. 
 The thought flashed, "Why not let all Frances' 
 dear ones surround her ? " So I put a bracket for 
 flowers beneath the large portrait. To the left, a 
 chromo of our lovely mother with her child's verses, 
 " My mother's last request." Then dear father and 
 sister Miriam, brothers Henry and Frank. By 
 
ORNAMENTAL WALLS. ■ 129 
 
 gentle sister Ellen I placed her good husband, and 
 last myself. 
 
 On the other side of dear Frances I placed tJie 
 group of dear brother Henry's widow and their 
 seven children ; Amy with her African boys'class, and 
 Archie with his converts ; also the photographs from 
 his " Leopard " story, with little Havergal sitting 
 onJts skin. On another wall were arranged Astley 
 Churchyard and the quiet tomb ; the Consecration 
 Hymn, " A Worker's Prayer," " Do what Thou wilt," 
 etc. etc. 
 
 Again the rising sadness of the last look around 
 was dispelled by the ministry of flowers and fruit 
 brought by kind Captain H. How kindness does 
 help one ! 
 
 August 22, 1886. — Restless and feverish last 
 night. In vain I tried to lie still. Two or three 
 times I knelt, confessing sin that rose before me ; 
 and as I cried, " Father, I have sinned, I am not 
 worthy to be called Thy son," His answering 
 tenderness came afresh to me. For if our part of 
 the parable be true, God's part must be also. 
 Then I asked to glorify Him by lying patiently 
 awake, or to end me sleep. God's -sleep comes to 
 me by soft shadowy lights passing before my eyes, 
 and sometimes my mother's or sisters' faces, then 
 fair flowers that are new to me, all in soft celestial 
 light, and this invariably hushes me cff into sleep. 
 
130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 But last night, after prayer for God's teaching by 
 the Holy Spirit, the story of the faithful three in 
 Nebuchadnezzar's fiery furnace came to me vividly. 
 Perhaps as the flame.« of the furnace rose fiercely, 
 God's word of promise, "When thou vvalkest 
 through the fire, thou shalt not be burned," were 
 forcibly applied to their shrinking hearts. Then, 
 instantaneously, the very presence of the Son of 
 God, and thus the miraculous transmuting of fiery 
 flame into crystalline coolness. How splendidly 
 this proves the divinity and omnipresence of our 
 Lord, even before His incarnation ! What manifes- 
 tations of His love and sympathy and power might 
 they not have rejoiced in ! One could wish to 
 know their mysterious intercourse. How truly He 
 is Lord over every element, wind and wave, air and 
 flame ! Doubtless our holy martyrs experienced 
 somewhat of the same miraculous presence, ex- 
 changed for the all-glorious reality of Himself as 
 the flames became His chariot " paved with love." 
 
 And thus the aged Polycarp refused support at 
 the stake : " Leave me as I am ; for He that hath 
 granted me to endure the fire will grant me also 
 to remain at the stake unmoved, without the help 
 of nails." And when the fire was kindled, it is 
 recorded that the flames touched him not. A high 
 wind wreathed the flames into a triumphal arch 
 around the victorious confessor of Christ, and there 
 
FOXE^S BOOK' OF MARTYJiS. 131 
 
 he stood unconsumed, — fulfilment of His Master's 
 promise, "Neither shall the flame kindle upon thee." 
 The executioner's dagger swiftly releasing the 
 martyr's spirit, according to his prayer, " I bless 
 Thee that Thou hast granted me this day and 
 hour to receive a portion amongst the number of 
 martyrs in the cup of Thy Christ, unto resurrection 
 of eternal life, both of soul and body, in the incor- 
 ruptibility of the Holy Spirit." 
 
 I wish that Foxe's Book of Martyrs were more 
 read, and those glorious confessions and professions 
 of faith in Holy Scripture, as so well recorded in 
 the Parker Society's lives of our Reformers, pages 
 once so familiar to me. But in the world to come, 
 what unfoldings there will be of God's faithful 
 keeping of His promise in the very letter as well 
 as spirit ! 
 
 The talks in eternity will be all of His goodness 
 and faithfulness, and it will be delicious to hear 
 His praises, with no mingling of sighs. 
 
 After thinking of this I slept, and seemed to 
 hear Fanny singing her hymn — 
 
 " Is it for me, dear Saviour, 
 Thy glory and Thy rest? 
 For me, so weak and sinful, 
 O shall I thus be blest ? " 
 
 And then I dreamt of het deep humility and 
 abhorrence of any self perfection, and I awoke up- 
 
132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 on God's own Sabbath, strengthened and assured 
 that for all the future I need fear no evil, for " Thou 
 art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort mc." 
 
 " Upon Thy Word I rest, 
 Each pilgrim clay, 
 This golden staff is best. 
 
 For all ihe way. 
 What Jesus Christ hath spoVen, 
 Cannot be broken." — F. K. II. 
 
 August 24. — Some of my thoughts and prayers 
 last night exactly correspond with those of my 
 dear niece, A. E. S., expressed in her note received 
 to-day ; so I copy them.- " It does seem so strange 
 why God should send you all this dreadful pain ; 
 truly His ways are not our ways, and L can trust 
 Him only to do what is best for you, though I 
 cannot see the wherefore, and I do ask Him con- 
 stantly to spare you as much pain as is possible, 
 and to strengthen and uphold you with His right 
 hand ('and so face to face ') through it all; that 
 His sweet presence may so engross you that the 
 pain may be forgotten, and that you may lose 
 yourself in the ocean of His love." The last words 
 I read in, Frances' room were hers, — 
 
 " ' Jesus only I ' In the glory, 
 
 When the shadows all are flown, 
 
 Seeing Him in all His beauty, 
 Satisfied w.ith Him alone ; 
 
 May we join the ransomed ihrnng. 
 
 ' Jesus only ' — all our song ! " 
 
FAREWELL TO THE MUMBLES. 133 
 
 Farewell to kind motherly Mrs. Tucker and 
 worthy husband. One tap on my father's barometer 
 and away." 
 
 Something impelled me to go into a cottage 
 near, where Myles was converted by Never say 
 Die, and long after went safe home, saying, " What 
 steps up to the gate." I was startled to find little 
 Ethel apparently dying — only time to kneel at Jesus' 
 feet for her, and point to His cleansing blood. 
 
 In Newton school just rapid words of His love, 
 and a prayer and promise left, to speak, maybe, in 
 years to come, "Hold Thou me up, and I shall be 
 safe." " I will uphold thee with the right hand of 
 my righteousness'' (Isa. xli. 10). "I the Lord thy 
 God will hold thy right hand," ver. 13. How 
 splendid F. R. H.'s inference — " therefore face to 
 face ! " 
 
 But for these dear trots, simple words of the safe 
 holding of His hand — the dear red hand that was 
 wounded with the nails before it could wipe out 
 every sin of thqse it holds, or as my little rhyme 
 runs : — 
 
 " O how good is Jesus I 
 
 May He hold my hand. 
 And at last receive me 
 To the better land." 
 
 I asked dear worthy Mrs. M. to let them sing 
 the other^ sweet words, and so I slipped away. 
 
134 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 ■ As I passed by the school boundary wall, I 
 remembered how Frances arranged all the school 
 there to sing for Sankey, " Safe in the arms of 
 Jesus," and then how she jumped in their carriage, 
 and at the bottom of the hill answered Sankey's 
 " We shall meet again," by waving her hand sky- 
 ivard and saying, " If not here, in the bright city 
 there ! " 
 
 The door of L.'s cottage was open ; there sat 
 brave Ben, who valiantly keeps his pledge. The 
 mother told me that poor William was no better, 
 but that he read his Bible and a book I had sent 
 him. So that was the last cottage call. The 
 waggonette came up, passing the last bank, and 
 the exquisite view of the little vessels moored in 
 the blue waters beneath. I felt convinced it was 
 my very last look, but no matter ! " So He bringetli 
 them to the haven, where they would be ; " and just 
 then a butterfly rose on glad wing, and I thanked 
 God for pleasant days at Caswell, and pleasant 
 hopes of soaring far beyond those cliffs and bays. 
 
CHAPTER VII I. 
 
 VARIOUS INSTANCES OF GOD'S IMPULSES IN 
 MY LIFE. 
 
 God's impulses may generally be distinguished 
 from our own, and prompt obedience is safest. If 
 Philip had not " run',' he would have missed the 
 eunuch ! During my work in Bewdley, I tried not 
 to get up early on Sunday mornings. There was 
 the steep walk to Wyre Hill, to open school at 
 9.30 A.M. Often standing the whole time, and if 
 teaching the gallery of little ones, needing much 
 liveliness and action. Dear little dots, I did love 
 teaching them, and, whenever possible, took them 
 outside the school. Then therfe was the walk to 
 Ribbesford Church, over so many stiles, that singing 
 of hymns was a great help to order. Sitting with 
 the school at church, and then the avenue walk 
 home ; dinner, and up again to open P.M. school, 
 play and lead singing, give closing address, and 
 vivA voce examination of boys and girls. I found 
 it answer to keep one class behind in rotation for a 
 short, loving, personal talk about "Jesus only," and 
 
136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 thereby getting to know more of the dear children. 
 And when fatal fever broke out, some of them 
 when dying repeated texts and hymns, and spoke 
 of Jesus and His love. At one time I also took 
 the harmonium at the evening church service, then 
 a visit or two in the almshouses, viy land- of Beulah; 
 so no wonder I did not try to get up early ! But 
 Whitsunday morning I awoke soon after 4 A.M. 
 with the unusual impulse to go at once to P. B., 
 an elder scholar, seriously ill. I rose and stole 
 noiselessly downstairs, and through the quiet 
 streets. P.'s house door was open, and her 
 mother came down, telling me that ever since tv.'o 
 o'clock her child had begged I might be sent for. 
 The shadow of death had fallen, and distressing 
 was her cry, " O teacher, am I safe .' Oh, if I am 
 lost after all." No church, no sacramental grace 
 sets safe stepping-stones for the soul's la,st footing. 
 Christ only. His promise only, can guide through 
 the cold waters. Softly repeating the comfortable 
 words of our Saviour Christ and, slowly too, giving 
 time for the soul to grasp them, then silent prayer, 
 then the familiar hymn, — 
 
 ' ' I heard the voice of Jesus say, 
 ' Come unto me and rest,' " — 
 
 and comfort came. I had brought a fan and 
 eau-de-Cologne, and after using them she seemed 
 easy and refreshed. And now the shadows were 
 
A SUFFERER AT WEST MALVERN. 137 
 
 passing, the Shepherd was come, and she heard 
 and knew His voice. Just as the clock struck 
 seven, leaning on my arm was exchanged for 
 Jesus' strong arm, swiftly receiving her unto Him- 
 self, — 
 
 " Do you ask me for pleasure, 
 Come, lean on my breast, 
 For there the sin-laden 
 And weary find rest. 
 In the valley of death 
 
 You shall joyfully cry, 
 ' If this be called dying, 
 'Tis pleasant to die ! ' " 
 
 — M'Cheyne. 
 
 When at West Malvern, I was purchasing same 
 niceties to send a great sufferer, and telling Mrs. 
 L. about her, she said, " I have a lodger recovering 
 from cancer, and I have been praying so that 
 God would send some one to comfort her." It is 
 pleasant to be a personal Amen ! This led to 
 many visits to Mrs. H. My heart ached for 
 her ; she was incessantly in pain, and could hardly 
 walk. I persuaded her to diminish and gradually 
 give up all stimulants and opiates, and she did so, 
 thereby improving in general health. And I believe 
 this had come between her soul and Christ, for she 
 was walking in darkness and despondency. Every 
 day I spent a little time with her, sending the nurse 
 to my breezy haunts meanwhile. God's Word 
 
138 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 became the light to her path, and it was beautiful 
 to watch the entrance of the Sun of Righteousness, 
 when the dark shutters of unbelief were unbarred. 
 Still I was not quite happy about her, recovery was 
 hopeless, and it became a weight of responsibility 
 to be her only visitor. Just then a dear Rev. 
 nephew came for two nights only. I told him the 
 case, and with her consent he called. I left them 
 and walked up and down the road in the twilight, 
 praying that God's Holy Spirit would bless his 
 message. 
 
 Yes, that tvas the meeting moment of her soul 
 with Christ, the transfer of her sins to the Substi- 
 tute, and as A. said, she then consciously grasped 
 the promises that led her into the joy of peace and 
 pardon. 
 
 To comfort and encourage her was delightful 
 work, and joyfully she confessed, "Jesus is my 
 precious Saviour." She died the following spring 
 in much suffering, but in much joy. 
 
 Sometimes the work was not pleasant. One 
 Saturday evening after ten o'clock, I was led to visit 
 a dying man, with some nourishment for the night. 
 Turning up a sad street of public-houses, I was 
 just in time to rescue one of my Sunday scholars 
 (twelve years old) ; her drunken mother was literally 
 beating her head against a wall. " My poor child, 
 why is this ? " " Mother is beating me because I 
 
"NO WONDER I AM A TEETOTALLER." 139 
 
 won't go in with her to drink." This explained the 
 sad, weary look I often noticed on Sundays. I took 
 her to sleep at her grandmother's; that led me to pass 
 the door of a fine young husband in-my night class. 
 There he stood, breaking every dish, and all the 
 pretty crockery lay in bits on the floor. The wife, 
 with baby's forehead bleeding from its drunken 
 father's blow, stood crying in the street. I saw her 
 safely to her mother's, who herself knew what it 
 was to take refuge in a pig-sty. No wonder I am 
 a strong teetotaller, and nothing is so convincing as 
 to be able to say, " See, I have tried it myself, and 
 even when ordered brandy medically, I have just 
 turned it out and taken hot water and ginger." 
 
 Another strange impulse was the almost positive 
 conviction that seemed given me of people living 
 in hidden sin. Once I was riding a pony in un- 
 frequented lanes, and took a narrow turning which 
 led me to two cottages. Women and children were 
 in both. Fastening the pony to the gate, I knocked 
 at the first door, and was civilly asked to sit down 
 while getting some tracts out of my bag. Then, 
 asking God's guidance, I opened my Testament at 
 John iv. When I read the verse, " He whom thou 
 now hast is not thy husband," I looked at the 
 woman and exclaimed, "You must forgive me if I 
 am wrong ; I am a perfect stranger ; I never heard 
 of you or these cottages, but I think you are not 
 
I40 A UTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HA VERGAL. 
 
 married, and just living here to hide your sin. 
 You cannot hide it from God, and He has sent 
 me to tell you so. Let me be your friend, won't 
 you ? " The woman started, covered her face, 
 saying, " You are fight." I do not remember 
 more sufficiently to write it down, but paid many 
 more visits. 
 
 Once I had taken lodgings in a secluded farm- 
 house in Devon, with such a nice mother and 
 daughters, and the cleanest of rooms. Going down 
 to breakfast the first morning, the large sash 
 window was closed. As I put my hand to unbolt 
 the upper part, it suddenly fell, dragging my thumb 
 and fingers between the sashes. The pain was 
 intense ; I am not given to fainting or fear, but was 
 glad to lie down. I stopped the bleeding, but saw 
 my right thumb was twisted wrong. Wet bandages, 
 lying still, and not writing of the mishap, followed. 
 Three or four days after, I heard of a dying girl, 
 and went to visit her ; she was all right — trusting, 
 and not trying. Just then a doctor called, who 
 from Christian sympathy occasionally came a very 
 long drive to see her. I asked would he look at 
 my thumb; he commended my treatment and paste- 
 board splints. Offering him a book and leaflets, he 
 looked at the name. " Oh, I have had the great plea- 
 sure of meeting this lady. Do you know F. R. H. ? " 
 That was pleasant in this outside place, and this 
 
PATIENCE AND SPLINTS. 141 
 
 was in 1874, before many of her books were 
 published. 
 
 Patience and splints were my holiday lesson — 
 still I could walk, and visited every cottage. Once 
 I went miles through lanes and moorland with no 
 vestige of houses, till I saw a white cottage, and 
 smoke out of the chimney, which brought a vision 
 of tea-kettle and tea-pot. It was comfortably 
 furnished, many books and little elegancies not 
 often found in cottages. I produced my groceries 
 — I generally carried some — and was welcomed to 
 the tea-pot. Only general conversation passed. 
 The woman told me of her son in the Midland 
 Counties, whom I had seen. 
 
 We are told that the disciples returned and told 
 Jesus all things that befell thern. That has often 
 encouraged me to tell my Master of walks and 
 talks, and so some new guidance has followed. 
 Thus, whenever I thought of that pretty lone 
 cottage, an uncomfortable suspicion arose. I tried 
 to stifle it as very uncharitable, but that revealing 
 verse at Samaria's well would speak, and impelled 
 me to take the long walk again. I remember 
 praying that if the Lord had really any message 
 for me to deliver, the woman might be at home. 
 Yes, the door was open ; she looked constrained 
 and surprised to see me again. At once. I told her 
 frankly, but kindly, how unaccountably I was im- 
 
142 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF mARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 pressed with the fear that sin had come between 
 her aod God, for she had spoken of early faith and 
 love. I told her how painful it was to me thus to 
 intrude on a stranger, but I knew how tenderly the 
 Good Shepherd followed the sheep if wandering in 
 the mire of forbidden sin. I then knelt down and 
 asked God, for Christ's sake, to show us both any 
 hidden sin against His pure and holy law. Tears 
 were in my eyes as I spoke to the still silent 
 woman ; then she unburdened the sad story, which 
 I cannot write. Once again I called, and the man 
 being at home, God 'gave me courage openly to 
 remonstrate and show it was possible to repent and 
 retrieve this- sad life. 
 
 Going to another part of Devon, I took lodgings 
 on very high ground. Resting half-way up the 
 hill, a young carpenter was passing by, to whom I 
 spoke. No mistake about his colours. He told 
 me an instance of presence of mind as the result of 
 looking up. He was fast asleep one midnight, but 
 his mother, a godly woman, had sat up reading her 
 Bible, but on carrying the paraffin lamp into her 
 bedroom she upset it, and was enveloped in flames ; 
 her cries aroused the husband, who seemed power- 
 less ; the son awoke with the cry of fire ; he looked 
 to his Lord, and going to his mother's room saw 
 the wave of fire just reaching the bed-clothes. He 
 threw the blankets over his mother and extinguished 
 
A BRA VE SON. 143 
 
 her flames, and quick as thought threw all his Sun- 
 day clothes on and stamped the fire out ; and though 
 only in his night attire and flames all around 
 him, he was mercifully preserved. All night he 
 applied oil, and soothed the poor mother, who was 
 frightfully burnt. She was removed to the hospital, 
 and the son asked me to visit her. And the little 
 ministry to her led to my making friends with the 
 nurse, whose cheery countenance was most attrac- 
 tive. She came from Mildmay, that great pulse of 
 love to God and man. Nurse told me of the sad 
 loss of her purse on the journey, containing not 
 only money, but a valuable locket and keepsakes. 
 Another day she told me somewhat of her early 
 history and living in Hereford ; so I asked, " Did 
 you happen to know the Rev. F. T. Havergal 1 " 
 Oh yes, he was the kindest and best of friends to 
 me, temporally and spiritually. It was pleasant to 
 hear of my dear brother so very far away, and how 
 generously he.had helped her. So this encouraged 
 me to show her my thumb, and she improved my 
 bandages. After three or four opinions, I finally 
 went up to Hutton, the bone-setter in London, and 
 he instantly discovered the wrist was out of joint, 
 and as instantly twisted my thumb into place. 
 Poor thumb ! it had hard lessons once and again. 
 An aged man with a sore leg and no one to dress 
 it regularly, seemed a little bit of work. For a 
 
144 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 month I went daily, and then got my own thumb 
 poisoned. Real pain and sleepless nights followed, 
 but they were times of refreshing too, and I had a 
 most vivid sense of leaning where St. John did. 
 
 Once again, years after my thumb was out 
 of joint, when little able to bear it, a dying woman 
 had sent for me, and as the carriage was going 
 into K. first, I went for the drive and shopping. 
 Just as the carriage door was shutting, my thumb 
 got in for a squeeze, and I saw and felt it was out 
 of place again. Still I told the coachman to set 
 me down at poor Mrs. S.'s, and as heavy snow 
 came on I bade him take the horses home. I went 
 upstairs, the woman opened her eyes, saying, 
 " Miss Havergal,' you have deceived me, it's too late 
 now,- 1 am a lost soul, the flames have been rounds 
 me already." She closed her eyes, and I knelt 
 down, overcome with her words and my own pain. 
 Silently I pleaded for the poor creature, and tried 
 to recall what I could have said to deceive her. An 
 Jiour passed, when she roused, and with fearful 
 earnestness said, " You told me of Jesus, but you 
 did not tell me of my sins and this hell that is begun ; 
 don't I see the pit ; don't I see the devil } Too 
 late, too late ; I am lost, lost." " Lost ! " O Saviour, 
 Thy foreseeing love provided for this cry from a 
 soul hovering over the blackness of darkness. 
 
 No time for talk or reasoning now, only God's 
 
/t IVAL/C IN THE SAO W. 145 
 
 living word could reach that sinking soul : " The 
 Son of man is come to seek and to save that which 
 was lost." This I repeated slowly, again and again, 
 with that other life line, " The blood of Jesus Christ 
 His Son cleanseth us from all sin," The woman 
 looked at me more calmly, and I said, " Mrs. S., 
 let us come straight to the Lord Jesus." She 
 repeated a simple prayer after me, and was again 
 unconscious. Two hours had passed, the snow was 
 deepening; I had two miles to walk, with my thumb 
 in pain. But I went round to my walking nurse 
 and arranged for her to_ go and stay the night ■ 
 with the poor creature, knowing she would point 
 to^ the one Saviour. The poor woman lived a, 
 week ; I was only able to go once more. That 
 death-bed taught me that sin was sin — hell .was 
 hell. The woman was not in my district, but I had 
 . accidentally met her, and had spoken of Christ, not 
 of sin and its wages. 
 
 " And He must needs go through Samaria " may 
 also be the clue to some of His servants' journey- 
 ings. The Good Shepherd's eye still searches in 
 the wilderness for the lost and straying, and so He 
 impels the errand feet to take this or that turning. 
 When visiting my dear sister Ellen in Ireland, my 
 walking power was often graciously used. There 
 were many lovely carriage drives, which served as 
 pioneer observation of lonely cabins, to be visited 
 
146 AUTOBIOGRAniY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERCAL. 
 
 on foot. I cannot tell of much result, but know that 
 God's word and message reached many. When 
 welcomed, I gladly returned again and again. One 
 widow told me, years after my first call, that her 
 husband took all the portions and little books given 
 him to the workhouse, and hid them in his razor 
 bag, reading them when possible. Another aged 
 woman, whom I found in great horror of going 
 to purgatory, saying, " Och, and I must be burning 
 for ever ; shure a lone widdy has no one to pay 
 masses to relase me." If ever our Queen's reprieve 
 brought joy in a condemned cell, far more did the 
 grand reprieve and free pardon through the blood 
 of Christ unlock the binding chain of Rome and 
 set her soul free. 
 
 Sometimes they seemed afraid to ask me into 
 their cabins, but would follow me a little way, and 
 then, sitting down amid the purple heather, listen 
 to the story of love. I wonder now at those long 
 rambles, when rejoicing in the flush of health ; truly 
 did I say, " Thou makest my feet like hind's feet." 
 Resting and singing awhile, with hat thrown off, 
 on a moor-side, a girl crept cautiously to the other 
 side of the hedge, watching my movements, so I 
 hailed her. " Shure an' I thought it was an angel !" 
 She sat down and we had a long talk, for by listen- 
 ing first one wins confidence, and without arguing 
 they soon disclose their belief and trust in the 
 
THE REAL LADDER TO GLORY. 147 
 
 Virgin, clinging to her mediation witli the Son, 
 praying to her, adoring her equally with God. I 
 know this is smoothed over in England, but I 
 could give hundreds of conversations, proving the 
 absolute trust for salvation in the Virgin Mary : 
 e.g., "Well, I'll trust to the blessed Virgin to the 
 last minute, and I'll die in her blessed arms ; she's 
 got the power in heaven and earth. There, my 
 lady, look at this blessed picture — there's the real 
 ladder to glory — isn't the mother of God helping 
 them safe up, and them on Christ's ladder a 
 tumblin' into hell .■■ " 
 
 Of course the priests heard of these rambles, not 
 that they ever visited the poor, unless sent for 
 the last viaticum. Nor could I ever find the same 
 friendly and fatherly visits which our working 
 clergy delight in. 
 
 A woman, suffering with cancer thankfully re- 
 ceived my visits. While reading a chapter, another 
 woman rushed in, " O acushla, run, run, Father W.'s 
 coming down the lane, and I am never the one 
 to see me darlint lady under his anger — run, run ! " 
 I told her I was not going to run, and should like 
 to speak to Father \y. 
 
 Enter Father W. with courteous bow. 
 
 " Miss Havergal, I presume." I bowed assent. 
 
 Father W. " Allow me to enquire why you are 
 visiting one of my flock ? " 
 
148 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 " Certainly, her husband works for my brother-in- 
 law, and she has thanked me for my visits.'' 
 
 Father W. "Your intentions may be more 
 than mej-e charity ; you cannot possibly know the 
 doctrines of our holy and true Catholic Church 
 without instruction. Willingly will I give you such 
 instructions at my own house (seeing my wonder), 
 or I can meet you at your sister's." 
 
 "Thanks, I have the Douay Bible, Missal, and 
 Catechisms, and I have read more than you 
 imagine." 
 
 Father IV. " Then why do you go about teaching 
 doctrines contrary to the Catholic Church ?" 
 
 Handing him my open Testament, " God's- word 
 is what I read, God's word my rule of faith and 
 doctrine, and holy Scriptures are able to make wise 
 unto salvation.'' Then looking at his pale, worn 
 countenance, "O Father W., you go to the dying, 
 and instead of pointing to Jesus only, bidding 
 them ' behold the Lamb of God,' instead of 
 teaching them, ' Neither is there salvation in any 
 other,' instead of teaching the merits and interces-- 
 sion of Jesus Christ, you distract the dying gaze 
 ■ to Virgin, Saints, and Sacraments, — there it is in 
 this Missal." And I spoke tenderly, too of the 
 preciousness of Christ for him and for me. 
 
 He listened and paused, and then finding I de- 
 clined all interviews, he rose and poured out the 
 
FATHER W:S PROHIBITION. 149 
 
 mcrst cutting, satirical, withering condemnation of 
 my Church and my profession, adding that hence- 
 forth my footsteps would be closely watched, and 
 that my visits would be prohibited next Sunday. 
 
 I listened in silence, rose and bowed, simply 
 saying, "May God bless you, Father W.,'' and 
 left. 
 
 I never mentioned this interview lest my friends 
 should check me, or be uncomfortable at my long 
 walks. Certainly I got a pelting of stones once or 
 twice, and when I saw the priest's horse in the 
 distance I have taken another lane, but I never 
 found -any other hindrance, and many portions of 
 God's pure word were safely given. 
 
 Some five Irish miles away, beneath a railway- 
 arched crossing, there were three dwellings. I should 
 never have discovered them, but met an aged woman 
 in a field ; she looked so very sad, and just a few 
 kind words seemed pleasant to her. She asked me 
 to come and rest — just two stools in the barest of 
 cabins. And the withered hand seemed groping in 
 the dark towards the living Hand coming down to 
 hers. Poor old granny ; the dear red Hand to wipe 
 out the sin that burdened was just what she wanted. 
 Surely it was the impulse of God's love that led me 
 to that corner. Again I went ; the neighbours 
 next door rejecting my visits, and a growling dog 
 was rather unpleasant. Thankfully she listened 
 
ISO AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 and learnt off a verse each time. Another day 
 came a strong now or never impulse. I was not 
 well, not equal to the long walk, and there was to 
 be an infant school treat that day. Fortunately 
 I heard the carriage was going near the bridge ; it 
 was an effort to bid the coachman set me down, 
 but now or never was irresistible. Never did I re- 
 gret it ; that was my last visit and my last walk in 
 Ireland ! Cheering was her evident grasping of the 
 Hand, from which none can ever pluck away — God's 
 word was the power unto salvation, and in that 
 safe keeping I expect to meet her in the kingdom. 
 And my dear Master took care of me, for, most un- 
 expectedly, a friend's carriage passed on returning, 
 and took me up. The next morning I was very ill, 
 and never saw my cabin friends again. When able, 
 I was carried down to the carriage for drives, and 
 lying there bade silent farewell to my former 
 haunts, and then returned to England, never to re- 
 visit Ireland. 
 
 Workhouses are a special opportunity of ministry, 
 and even a casual visit, when waiting for trains, has 
 been God's impulse to carry His message of love. 
 
 In 1870, when visiting my birthplace, Coaley, I 
 found some of my father's old parishioners were in 
 the Dursley Union. How their faces lighted up at 
 the mention of his name, — the young curate they 
 loved so well. As I was leaving the men's ward, 
 
A SEARCHING QUESTION. 151 
 
 an aged man with earnestness said, " May I ask jot^ 
 one question ?" 
 
 " Quite fair, Richard, for I have asl<ed many." 
 " Is Jesus Christ precious to your soul ? " 
 Wise and searching question ! how it thrilled to 
 one's deeper self. Often have I passed my lesson 
 on, and so old Richard's question reached many an 
 ear in railway or drawing-room or cottage. 
 
 Passing into the women's ward for a general 
 address, I was interested in R., a cripple girlj and 
 left her the Day spring Magazine and other books. 
 Three years after, she wrote, having found my 
 address in one of them, so I continued to post 
 her the Magazines. Three years, and she wrote 
 again, from a workhouse in Derbyshire. She had 
 been Visiting a sister, who one day turned her out 
 in the street, literally stript and starving, because 
 she had reproved her for drunkenness and worse sin. 
 Kind neighbours took her in, but could only pass 
 her on to the workhouse. She had one longing wish, 
 which was, " Oh that I could get back to Dursley, 
 and see father again ; but the guardians won't pay 
 my fare." I wrote comfortingly, and told her to 
 pray about it, and meanwhile be industrious. 
 
 Health took me to Buxton, and looking in Brad- 
 shaw for my return journey, I found I could 
 
 wait three hours in , and visit R.'s workhouse. 
 
 The master and mistress spoke well of her, so she 
 
152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MARIA V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 was sent for. As she told me of her longing to see 
 her father, and how she prayed to get to him, the 
 sudden impulse came, " Take her to-day." -3o I told 
 R. to kneel down and we would tell our Father 
 in heaven all about it. I then went to the master. 
 "Can I take R. to-day.? I shall send her to her father." 
 "Oh, certainly, if you choose to be responsible." 
 Still two hours to wait, so I asked, " Can I go in the 
 sick wards while R. gets ready .■" " " Oh yes, it's 
 not the visiting day, but there are two cases — dying." 
 " Dying." One was a negress, with thick curls, and 
 the poor thing grasped my hand tight, for the " 
 solemn loneliness of death was creeping over her. 
 She knew something of Christ, and was just ready 
 for the King's message of free pardon, " Nothing 
 to pay," for His blood had paid all her debt. And 
 as I knelt with the two dying ones, surely the Lord 
 heard their cry, the same Lord Jesus so ready to 
 forgive. Poor Blackie 1 how she kissed my hand 
 and blessed the Lord for all His love ! 
 
 R. was ready ; all her belongings on her ! She 
 was very lame. I had sent for a fly, but it never 
 came. I rushed towards the town, saw a waggonette 
 standing at a spirit shop. "Driver, can you take 
 me to the station ? " " It's private, miss, but you 
 can ask master in there." "Do pardon me, I am 
 anxious to catch the train with a lame Union 
 orphan ; could you possibly oblige a clergyman's 
 
UNQUENCHABLE THIRST. 153 
 
 daughter ? " " Oh, certainly ; give my man your 
 orders.'' I looked at his glass, looked at him. 
 '' That often leads to unquenchable thirst ; there is 
 living water, Christ gives it — oh so satisfying ! 
 From my heart I thank you for kindness to the 
 orphan," and offering a nice book, I bowed and left. 
 R. was hoisted up, and as we drove rapidly off, her 
 look was enough. A kind porter, seeing my 
 dilemma at the long steps, put us in the lift, and soon 
 after we reached Birmingham. " He that hath two 
 coats" opened my carpet bag, and her wretched 
 boots were exchanged for spare ones, with a little 
 packet of necessaries. I telegraphed to her father, 
 put R. in charge of a kind-looking Sister of 
 Mercy, and father and child met at last. He only 
 lived two years, — a little colportage work of Bibles, 
 and F. R. H.'s books helped him. One evening he 
 was at a prayer-meeting and prayed ; in a few hours 
 all was over, and the gate entered. R. was com- 
 forted ; she had two happy years, and saw father 
 die in peace. 
 
TEN YEARS IN BEWDLEY. 
 
 It was during the summer of 1867 that Maria and 
 Frances Havergal paid a visit to Morecambe Bay, 
 and invited me to join them in order to talk over 
 a home missionary effort which had been laid upon 
 their hearts. In consequence of their brother-in- 
 law, Mr. Shaw, having settled at Winterdyne, near 
 Bewdley, they had become with him and Mrs. 
 Shaw deeply interested in the spiritual condition 
 of the neighbourhood. At that time in the large 
 and scattered parish in which Winterdyne is 
 situated, regular schools and district visitors were 
 unknown. No lay efforts were being made for 
 the good of the people, except in one corner, 
 called Wyre Hill, where a native of the place. Miss 
 Pountney, having herself been brought to a know- 
 ledge of the Lord under very unfavourable circum- 
 stances of life, desired to make Him known to her 
 poorer neighbours. She devoted her spare hours 
 to doing what she could, and taught of God, and 
 through the instrumentality of books which came 
 
FELLOW-WORKURS WITH CHRIST. 155 
 
 in her way, she gathered the women around her for 
 a mother's meeting ; the children were collected in 
 a cottage and taught on Sundays, and older ones 
 were instructed in a night - school in the same 
 place. 
 
 This quiet but true work was carried on more 
 or less for several years, but about the time that 
 Mr. Shaw came to Winterdyne, the health of the 
 earnest worker failed, and it was feared that it 
 must be given up. Maria Havergal was at that 
 time watching for God's guidance. Her father 
 having just retired from his active labours, and 
 settled with Mrs. Havergal in the well-worked town 
 of Leamington, no longer needing her help, she 
 felt herself called to a more distinct mission sphere. _ 
 This seemed to be the call for which she was 
 waiting, and the autumn found her settled m 
 Bewdley in company with a younger helper, who 
 had loved and looked up to her from childhood, 
 and who has ever felt it a great privilege to have 
 been associated with her in the work.' 
 
 Miss Havergal's first object was to aid and 
 strengthen the work already established on Wyre 
 Hill, but at the same time house-to-house visiting 
 was immediately set on foot. The entire parish of 
 Ribbesford was explored, and divided for con- 
 
 ' Miss Elizabeth Clay, the writer of this paper. 
 
1 55 TEN YEARS IN BE WDLE Y. 
 
 venience into districts, in which every house was 
 included, not omitting the public-houses, of which 
 there were an unusual number. The farmers' wives 
 nearly always welcomed the loan of a helpful book, 
 and amongst the poor a selection of tracts, or 
 pictorial papers sewn together, were regularly 
 circulated and exchanged. This naturally opened 
 the way to conversation, and wherever there was 
 opportunity a portion of the Bible was read. 
 
 Such visits being an entirely new thing, at 
 first occasioned great surprise ; they could not 
 understand their object. The people, however, 
 soon learned to regard her as their friend, 
 and in cases of sickness she was constantly 
 sent for. 
 
 It was her rule from the beginning that she and 
 her fellow-helper should always visit separately, 
 and take up different branches of the work. By 
 this means much more could be accomplished, 
 and kind and willing helpers arose by degrees who 
 could give a portion of their time to assist in the 
 night-schools for boys, factory girls, the mother's 
 meeting, or other efforts. 
 
 Extracts from a manuscript book written to 
 interest friends during the second and third years 
 of her Bewdley life, will give the best idea of her 
 work at that period. It is much to be regretted 
 that an earlier book, known to have been filled, 
 
SUNSHINE BEFORE A STORM. 157 
 
 qarmot be found, and that in her later years at 
 Bewdley she did not write such accounts. 
 
 This second book was begun at the close of 1S68, 
 when dark clouds had for a time obscured the early 
 promise of the mission, which M. V. G. H. recounts 
 as follows : — 
 
 " No journey without a hill, no sky without a cloud, no 
 work without failure. 
 
 " For a year and a half our work had gone on smoothly. 
 A large new mission-room had been built, and opened 
 by the Bishop of Hereford. The Sunday and day 
 schools had multiplied threefold. Perhaps a little pride 
 crept in as the new superintendent saw new and rigid 
 rules resulting in new order and new -diligence. One 
 rule relating to the expulsion of feathers and flowers, 
 which was ruthlessly enforced on the little wearers of 
 real red cocks' tails, etc., brought about an outside im- 
 provement. Compensation was offered by the promise, 
 ' Bring your hats to Park Lane ; they shall all be cleaned 
 and nicely trimmed.' This brought an extensive 
 millinery trade, not very profitable ! Very much to the 
 credit of the Rector's daughter and teacher of the first 
 class of girls, she cheerfully volunteered that most valu- 
 able of all aid — example. Forthwith the great girls set 
 the same example to the more tenacious feathery tribe 
 below. 
 
 " It was pleasant to see the large nuinbers arranged in 
 the spacious well -ventilated room, and there were no 
 more casualties of broken forms, or restless children who 
 must stand because they could not sit. It was pleasant 
 to begin a Wyre Hill Church Missionary Association 
 with the help of pictures, large as life, lent from dear old 
 Shareshill schools. ... 
 
 " We are first sketching the sunshine before the storm. 
 The attendance of elder boys and young men was 
 
158 TEN YEARS IN BEWDLEY. 
 
 especially good. These were allowed to walk first by 
 themselves to church, instead of two and two with boys 
 and girls down to five years old. It is always well to 
 spare occasion for the sneer and laugh at young men's 
 attendance at any class. 
 
 " The night-school was flourishing. Poor lads ! it was 
 wonderful why they came at all. Tlie average had 
 walked six or seven miles, besides standing at their 
 work all day, either in the Kidderminster factories or 
 the distant coppices, etc. Half-past four o'clock a.m. 
 all the week round is early rising. And yet they came, 
 and their fun, which it is not wise altogether to repress 
 in a voluntary school. From 7.30 till 9 p.m. writing, 
 arithmetic, and reading went on. Then singing, which 
 was greatly improved by the very good harmonium. A 
 few verses, a few questions, and one thought to take 
 home, and then all knelt. Rising we sing, ' Praise 
 God from whom all blessings flow.' Then wishing to 
 set an example of manners, I bow to them all, with 
 ' Good-night, boys,' answered by antiphonal chorus. 
 Lanterns were lighted by the more fortunate ones, and 
 for the boys living at Park End, full two miles away 
 through woods and over streams, it was certainly desirable 
 at 9.15 P.M. 
 
 "Sometimes a boy would stop behind for another 
 word from the teacher. One evening a bright open 
 face seemed sad and cloudy. As the boy lingered, I 
 said, 'What is the master, 'yV. ?.' 'Please, miss, I have 
 had a loss this evening, and I am frightened to tell 
 father and mother.' 'What is it?' 'It is* my mason's 
 rule ; I dropped it coming back from work, and that 
 made me late at school. I had walked seven miles 
 from my master's, and mother leaves me a crust and 
 cup of tea at Mrs. Aston's close by the school here, as I 
 live too far off to get home. So I went without that, 
 and I went a long way back to look for it, but it's no use. 
 They are bad off at home, and I am only apprentice, 
 and so don't get much yet.' ' I am very sorry for your 
 
GOSPEL TEMPERANCE WORK. 159 
 
 loss, W., and I am glad you told me, because I want to 
 be your friend as well as your teacher. I am pleased 
 to tell you how much your quiet orderly behaviour helps 
 me. On Sunday our lesson was about three lost things, 
 the lost sheep, the lost silver, the lost son. But every one 
 \;a.% found. You have lost your tool, but you have given 
 up looking for it, so it will never be found. Is not this 
 different to that Friend who is looking, " until He find 
 it " ? The Lord Jesus not only looks but finds. Is He 
 not looking for you ? ' 'I hope so, miss. I think a 
 great deal more about Him than I used to. What you 
 said a few Sundays ago helped me to bear my master's 
 unkindness ; he swears at me so, it's so heard to bear. 
 You told us how the Lord was with Joseph when a 
 servant lad, and how He would be with us too.' We 
 had more nice talk as he walked with me down the hill. 
 It was an allowable pleasure to give the unasked-for 
 help towards another tool, and perhaps it will fasten the 
 thought how the Shepherd looks until He find it." 
 
 It w^as about this time that, stirred up by the 
 extra drinking which preceded a contested elec- 
 tion, the workers began Temperance work. Miss 
 Havergal thus mentions her first attempt in the 
 boys' night-school :— r 
 
 " Another evening the teetotal principle was set before 
 them. A bright medal and some attractive cards and 
 Band' of Hope almanac were examined, and details 
 listened to." 
 
 (These details related to the very successful 
 Gospel Temperance work of Miss Breay in Wor- 
 cester, and of Miss Crockett in the neighbouring 
 parish at Bewdley.) 
 
i6o TEN YEARS IN BE WDLE Y. 
 
 " Then a white blank book was produced, called 
 Register of the Wyre Hill Temperance Society. Of 
 course the pledge was solemnly read and signed first by 
 myself. About thirteen boys came forward and' signed 
 also. Some of the boys would not, because when they 
 had colds, ' rosemary and cider were such a cure.' 
 Others said, 'Father drinks and mother, why should 
 not we ? ' Still thirteen names in the white book gave 
 a ray of sunshine. Then came the storm. I had over- 
 heard whispers at the writing desk, ' There's a treat 
 
 to-night ; mother is going to the , and lots of women, 
 
 to drink.' Leaving the school later than usual, the 
 clock struck half-past nine as we came near our lodgings. 
 Suddenly I said to my faithful helper. Miss C, ' I will 
 
 go to the — and see if it is true about these treats, and 
 
 if our own poor mothers really do go. Let us see for 
 ourselves who do drink, then we shall know who deceive 
 us and who are innocent.' We went on silently, prayer- 
 fully, that God would give us wisdom for this hour. 
 
 " In the court-yard several women were standing, some 
 we knew and begged them to go home. They assured 
 us they were come to look for their husbands in the 
 men's drinking room. ' Which is the women's room ? ' 
 ' There, miss.' I tried the door, it was locked. Knock- 
 ing was vain, but I determined to get in, so waited till a 
 man came up with a tankard of ale. He knocked and 
 shouted through the. key-hole, ' Here's your ale.' The 
 door opened, and I followed closely in. Whispering to 
 Miss C, ' Soyez tranquille, pas un mot,' we entered the 
 room. There were women, wives and mothers, some 
 nursing infants even as the poison cup was quaffed. 
 Between forty and fifty women were sitting or standing, 
 or stamping round a blazing fire. Oyerhead were the 
 tramping feet of drunkards, and their shouts and cheers 
 mingled with the shriller voices below. I stood quietly 
 watching what was going on, turning my face a!side. 
 Several men came in and began dancing with a young 
 woman. I looked at them and said calmlj', ' This is 
 
A FEARFUL SCENE. 
 
 not your room, please to go out.' Some knew me, and 
 they all went away. The fearful scene was intensified to 
 us because the woman foremost in warming the ale over 
 the fire, and then loudly enticing all to ' drink away,' 
 was a Wyre Hill mother, one who not long before had 
 been very ill, and then professed deep contrition and 
 tearful desire to hear of Christ and holiness. Some had 
 slunk under the table, but were identified by coarsfe' 
 remarks, as ' Mrs. B.'s a-saying her prayers under the' 
 table.' They shouted, they screamed, they slamped, 
 they jumped up and down. Two or three songs were 
 being sung ; the language of one chorus rolled as waves 
 of burning pitch on my ear. 
 
 " But it was no use to stand there. I wliispered, ' E., 
 tell me the names of all of our women, your eyes are 
 better than mine.' On the back of a temperance reward 
 card did I pencil the dark list. Then I spoke to a few 
 near me, begging them to go home. One was a sister 
 whose brother had died only a fortnight before, and sad 
 to say- the young widow, the mother, the sisters, all were 
 here. Also a girl whose mother had only just died. A 
 few did go, but others were unmoved. The noise grew 
 louder as a fresh tankard came in. Just then a stout 
 woman jumped up and said, ' I'll give you a song.' 
 'No,' I said, 'you must hear me.' I bolted the door 
 apd stood with my back to it facing the whole crew. 
 'J'aking out my little Testament, I raised it saving, ' I 
 am come her& as your friend, and, because I am your 
 friend, I warn you. Many of you know me, but there is 
 One Eye in this room who knows every one of you. And 
 every one of you will give account to God. Is this the 
 place. for wives and mothers? This Testament shall tell 
 you what God says about drunkards.' I turned to Gal. 
 V. 2 ; I Cor. vi. lo, etc. ; 2 Cor. v. 10. 
 
 " There was perfect quiet as I read, but only a tempest 
 lull. Angry voices cried, 'I am not drunk. I can do 
 as I like.' Argument was no use there. The warning 
 
 given, we left the room 
 
 L 
 
162 .TEN YEARS IN BEWDLEY. 
 
 " Not only at the but in twenty-eight other public- 
 houses were these nights of drunkenness going on — men, 
 women, and even children constantly enticed to sin. 
 One night in particular some of our night-school lads 
 drank till they lay sick in the streets all night, their 
 mothers coming to them at early morning to send them 
 off to their work. Not only was it drunkenness, but other 
 dark results — quarrelling, swearing, fighting, parents 
 upbraiding their children, children their parents. A nice 
 girl in Miss C.'s night-school said, ' I am ashamed of 
 my mother; she is always drunk now.' One of my 
 best night-school lads had gone quietly to bed, when his 
 mother returned at midnight, drunk to infuriation, and 
 turned him out of the house." 
 
 But we will turn away from this dark cloud 
 which for a time lay so heavily on the Mission 
 (hindering and even breaking up classes and meet- 
 ings), to brighter scenes. Miss Havergal's account 
 of conversations in the two farthest districts, three 
 and four miles from Bewdley, to which she and her 
 helper usually started together, each visiting one of 
 them alternately, will doubtless interest many. 
 
 " I,ye Head and Bliss Gate are the names of our two 
 farthest districts. To reach them we often had the loan 
 of an Irish car, which set us down fresh for our work, 
 after which a leisurely walk back through lanes and 
 coppices was- pleasant. 
 
 "Taking away ^the negative, I find it well to act on 
 the positive maxim, ' If any man work, he shall eat.' 
 Consequently, we generally stored lunch with our tracts 
 and books. -But I found it gave great delight to one 
 humble friend to boil the kettle and fry some cottage 
 ham, taking care she should be the gainer. As she 
 partook of our London tea she exclaimed, 'Well, this 
 
LYE HEAD AND BLISS GATE. 163 
 
 is comfortable, to eat and drink together, and what will 
 it be up there?' Our visits here were always Refreshing ; 
 the poor cottagers in their scattered homes, far from the 
 street sins of Bewdley, seemed to be a simpler, purer 
 type. Lye Head is a lonely place, containing only a few 
 cottages and small farms ; but the view is lovely, a sweep 
 of forest, hills rising far beyond, and the foreground of 
 apple and Cherry orchards and heather and gorse patches. 
 Our first visits were quite a phenomenon, it was such an 
 unheard-of event for ladies to bring tracts to their doors. 
 ' Not had a tract for years, miss, unless they give them 
 out at the chapel or we pick one up on the road.' 
 ' What brings you here, and who do you belong to ? ' 
 was the evident expression of their faces. Showing them 
 our Testaments and tracts, and assuring them that the 
 rector knew us, was always a satisfactory introduction ; 
 and a few words of the great love of the Lord Jesus, who 
 had healed our sin-diseased souls, and that therefore we 
 longed for them to come and touch Him too, would 
 often unlock the ready heart-response of these simple 
 cottage believers. ' In His hand are all the corners of 
 the earth ' might be written over many an arm-chair in 
 the fireside corners of Lye Head and Bliss Gate. 
 
 " Visiting one cottage farm with cherry trees thickly 
 round, even to the door, a little maid asked me to walk 
 in and see the master. He was aged and infirm, and 
 could not leave his arm-chair. I bad called two or three 
 times before, but either dinner or churning or baking had 
 prevented my going in, and I had only left tracts. He 
 put out his hand, and, as I took it, said, ' It warn't your 
 goodwill that brought you' here to-day.' 'Oh yes, it 
 was. I have walked three miles to com.e and see you.' 
 ' No, it warn't your will ; it was Christ's will I You're 
 His servant, and so He put it in your heart to come and 
 see me. Sit you down, and welcome. Ever since you 
 left those •tracts I've been praying the Lord would bless 
 your work .^ut here, and I know He will. You'll get some 
 for His crowM 'Of glory at Lye Head.' 
 
104 TEN YEARS IN BE WDLE Y. 
 
 " ' Thank you so much for praying. I am sure you 
 could not pray for others if you did not know the Lord 
 Jesus. What brought -you to know Him ? ' "Cause I 
 thought the devil would have me ! It was the text of a 
 sprmon first made me think, " Now is the accepted time, 
 now is the day of salvation." * I felt I had not accepted 
 pardon, and knew nothing of salvation. For three weeks 
 I was in agony of mind and could find no relief from the 
 fright of being lost. One day I was at work in the field, 
 miserable, but still thinking over that text. In a moment 
 I saw it. I believed salvation was for me, now, to-day. 
 I could have jumped the hedge for joy. I threw down 
 my spade. I couldn't work. " I wanted to get on my 
 knees and thank my Saviour, for my heart was full of 
 joy and love. I can't describe my happiness. I wanted 
 nothing else but Christ. This was many years ago. The 
 Lord never gave me up, though I went backwards many 
 a time, and, like Peter, followed Him too far off. But 
 He comes nearer to me now than ever. Through faith 
 a man can do anything. It's believe and live. I see 
 that in every page of the Gospel, and I think, miss, it's 
 believing Christ Himself. The best Way to explain it is 
 ■ — have Christ in your heart. I shall go up with Him 
 very soon ; yes, I shall hear it and go.' • 
 
 "Then he showed me his large ^ftble, and asked me to 
 read a chapter, and his explanation was so simple and 
 fresh. When I said good-bye, he said, ' Come again 
 very soon. He'll be with you and give you utterance to 
 speak for the benefit of poor sinners. It is He that 
 opens the heart' 
 
 " My next visit was after the sudden death of his niece, 
 who lived close by. Her first baby died when three days 
 old, and in about three weeks, just as the young mother 
 ■was dressing to come downstairs for the first time, she 
 fell, turned 'black in the face, and died before any help 
 could be obtained. It is very solemn to a visitor to find 
 that one so lately spoken to is gone for ever, and where ? 
 Vainly we try to recall the last words spoken, Was I 
 
A JOYFUL OLD MAN. 165 
 
 faithful ? Did I point to the Lamb of God ? Did I read 
 and pray with her ? Oh, how often can we only humbly 
 cry, ' Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God.' The 
 old man had got on his crutches into his little fields 
 to look at his sheep. ' He'll sort them, take the sheep 
 from the goats. That'll be a glorious time — one family, 
 one fold. Christ knows all His sheep without marking 
 them.' After getting to his easy-chair he told me how 
 happy he was. ' I am in Christ, and so out of the devil's 
 reach. Ah, I was in the devil's paw once ; all alike — 
 all -have sinned and come short of His glory. It's out of 
 our power to save ourselves. It's when you can feel Him 
 in your heart that makes you happy. There are many 
 sects and parties, but it makes no odds what a man is 
 called, so that He is in Christ' 
 
 "^pril I, 1870. — Long had we waited for weather for 
 our distant work. Keen wind and rain at last rolled 
 away, and April came with a smile on her face. A merry 
 party of little nieces and nephews waited for us in the 
 waggonette near our lodgings, and soon we were on our 
 way, thankful the horses could take us up the long, steep 
 hills, and set us down untired for our visiting. One young 
 visitor we left at her newly-chosen district. With twenty- 
 one districts. Miss C. and myself were most thankful for 
 any subtraction of work. Our rector's daughter takes 
 another. I found S. very much worse ; he had been 
 ill with bronchitis, or the ' brown creatur ' as I hear it 
 called. Dear old man ! his happiness was quite over- 
 flowing. He said, ' All fear has long passed- away. 
 He's here, my blessed Jesus. He is good to me. I can 
 bear anything with Him so near. He's all my study, 
 precious, precious Jesus.' His old sister said, ' It isn't 
 only when he is awake, but when he's asleep, he hoots 
 out, "Glory, glory, glory," and about his blessed Jesus.' 
 S. 'Yes, I'm always dreaming of Him, but waking or 
 sleeping I'm happy. I can't describe the beauty of Jesus 
 now, and what will He be when I see Him in glory ! 
 Ah, we shall see nothing in all heaven better than Jesus. 
 
165 TEN YEARS IN BE WDLE Y. 
 
 That'll be the time up above. I'll sing glory then. Oh, 
 the blessed Jesus ! ' I left him where he seems to dwell, 
 just on the threshold, looking through the door, and 
 rejoicing in hope of the glory of God. 
 
 " Another warm welcome always greeted us at Mrs. J. 
 O.'s. Without- any questioning, she began telling me 
 of her early history. ' I think it was very soon that I 
 knew the love of Christ. I had great trials as a girl ; 
 we were thirteen in family, and bread was so dear. I 
 remember wheat being twenty -five and twenty -seven 
 shillings a bushel. We really were lost for want. I 
 believe some of the little ones died from not having 
 enough food. Calico that I get for threepence now was 
 then a shilling a yard. It was about the war time, and the 
 Waterloo fight, that I used to hear my mother praying, 
 that made me think. And then when. I saw my little 
 brothers and sisters lying dead and cold, that made me 
 think more. Then I went three miles and a half to Mr. 
 Cawood's school in Bewdley. Mr. Cawood prayed with 
 us times and times. Ah, 1 remember it. I was led to 
 see myself nothing, nothing but a wretch, nothing but 
 sinfulness in me, but all help in Christ Jesus. That's 
 the way to go to Christ, and He will still lay His hand 
 on me and heal me. I often wake with Him, and I lift 
 up my heart and say, " Oh, teach me ; Oh, speak to me." 
 This hymn is often running in my mind : — 
 
 " O teach me more of Thy blest ways, 
 Thou Holy Lamb of God ; 
 And fix and root me in Thy grace, 
 As one redeemed by blood. 
 
 O tell me often of Thy love. 
 
 Of all Thy grief and pain ; 
 And let my heart with joy confess 
 
 That thence comes all my gain." . 
 
 She continued, 'We are quite left alone here in this 
 little wilderness. No one ever came to see us till you 
 and the other good lady called. Oh, it is so comfortable 
 to see you come. But yet I am not alone, for I do 
 
A SUNDAY BONNET. 167 
 
 realize Him so near. Like John, I seem to lean on His 
 bosom. I see more and more what He has done for me. 
 " All our righteousness is as filthy rags." I enjoy Him 
 more and more, and soon I shall be like Him and see 
 Him as He is.' 
 
 " Another visit she told me she had been very ill, but 
 so happy. ' The book you lent me was such a comfort 
 to me. I have read it twice through, but can't spare it 
 yet.' It was sermons by my old revered school clergy- 
 man, the Rev. J. Parker. ' The matchless beauty of 
 Jesus.' And here in this out-of-the-world cottage was 
 one who could say, 'Yes, He is altogether lovely to me, 
 the chief among ten thousand. He is precious, and 
 He is mine.' I asked her if we should sing and pray 
 together. It was so pleasant to hear her voice joining in 
 the old hymn, 'How sweet the name of Jesus 'sounds.'" 
 
 Visits to another country district Miss Havergal 
 has thus recorded : — 
 
 " One pleasant walk brought us to a district which we 
 had to name afresh. It went by a fearful name sugges- 
 tive of murder, ' The bloody Hole,' And yet such a 
 lovely little dell ; the lane fringed with ferns and flowers, 
 and only a few cottages which no visitors had ever reached. 
 Mrs. B.'s heart was quite won by her visitor offering to 
 re-trim the faded bonnet. It was of wonderful dimen- 
 sions — a real bonnet in the coal-scuttle style of fifty years 
 ago. It was amusing to hear her ejaculations as new 
 bows and strings were sewn on. ' To think of a lady 
 touching my bonnet ! Why, it looks as good as new. 
 Shan't it be lapped up for Sundays.' Her thanks were 
 -followed by the offer of some eggs, which being declined 
 she would bring some of her parsnips. ' The next time 
 you boils a bit of mutton, miss, please to put in my 
 parsnips, and think of me. Never no lady troubled 
 about me before, and I hope the Lord will return your 
 kindness better than I can.' 
 
- 1 68 TEN YEARS IN BEIVDLE Y. 
 
 " One evening she told me her little history. ' I'ud 
 -not tell any stories— the truth's thE truth. Years agone 
 I was as gay as any one ; never troubled about my soul. 
 I am quite sure as the Lord put the first thought into 
 me Hisself. One day I was going to the coppice to cut 
 heather for besoms. 1 was alone and in a very lone 
 place. A feeling came over me that 1 was not safe. I 
 thought something might happen, and I felt so trembling 
 and frightened. I put down the burden of wood, and 
 knelt down under a tree. I often pass the tree now. 
 That was my first prayer, in earnest to the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. I axed Him to give me His Holy Spirit. He put 
 tlie prayer in my heart, and from then I took to seek the 
 Lord. He says, " Seek, and ye shall find ; " yes, and I 
 have found peace and comfort in the Lord. I love Him 
 for wearing the crown on His- brow, ay, that L do. I 
 want you to lend me the hymn you sing at the reading, 
 miss, " I lay mysins on Jesus." I must get him perfect. 
 I love a bit of singing. Be you come -for the tracts, 
 miss?' 'Yes; will you like a book this time?' 'I 
 should ; I've had many spells at t'other. What a-many 
 years I lived here, and no one ever came ! You know, 
 miss, I go to church; and you goes to cliurch, but it 
 doesn't cense it into me like. And there's Miss C. Her's 
 a good cratur ; warn't she a great friend ! She is good. 
 She used to say, " Now, do come to- Jesus ! " Ah, poor 
 thing ! I am hurt about her suffering so, but her's very 
 stedfast. If it warn't for you ladies, we poor souls might 
 live and die and be lost for ever, for what any one else 
 cares. There are some as ain't in Jesus as makes 
 remarks ; but I ihink it's no disgrace to humble myself 
 and say, " \\'ell, I am a poor sinner." My husband's 
 a-trying at it too. Ah, it's to catch hold of Jesus ! I 
 cares for nothing — nothing in this world now. When I 
 call get to my prayers, then I'm happy. I mind two or 
 three children all day, and you can't pray with them 
 about you. Then my husband comes home, and I leave 
 him to his prayers, and I go for mine to be alone with 
 
A BE A UTY OF A HUSBAND. i6g 
 
 Him. You can't go on without prayer. Tlien I feels 
 happy ; I don't know what I wants, but He does. 
 Warn't the thunder very serious ? it makes my narves go 
 cold. But I'm not afraid ; no, I've got a Protector. 
 It's all His blessed handiworks. If I had the head on 
 my shoulders twenty years ago that I have now, 't would 
 have been happy ! ' 
 
 "Another evening I found Mrs. B. full'of delight with a 
 new book just given her. ' He's fitted me out beautiful. 
 Look at this book ! something for every day. Oh, its 
 lovely ! Poor as I am, I wouldn''t take a gold sove- 
 reign for it. Ah, I am a deal happier than I used to be, 
 though I am under the frowns of the world and such a 
 poor object (from skin disease). Don't you think as He 
 helps me ? ' I know He does give me what I. axes for. 
 I am like the woman as had the issue of blood. I 
 comes behind Him at first ; now I have more faith, more 
 hopes; I do believe Him, and I am never terrified now, nor 
 fretched, nor put out. If I haven't a bite of bread in the 
 house it don't vex me now, for He knows when to send 
 it. He watches over me. Yes, I've great faith. I does 
 believe Him. If ever I am weary with the toils of the 
 day, I gets His book and reads ; that's my comfort. 
 And my husband never worries me. Ah, he's ik^ beauty ! 
 He never controls, never axes where have you been ! 
 Yes, he is a beauty of a husband ! ' 
 
 "Another evening I called at a widow's house to change 
 the tract. She was out, but her son, aged about twenty, 
 was reading the Bible. I knew that he was a total 
 abstainer, and, better still, a real convert. ' You look 
 very happy, John.' ' Yes, indeed ; but I warn't used to 
 think as I do now. The world and the things of the 
 world took all my thoughts. , I often' grieve now to think 
 how Igave all my attention to what 1 now hate. I was 
 more for pleasure — not a drunkard. I never went the 
 lengths some do, but my mind was fii'l of races and 
 gambling. Oh, how miserable I was when brought to see 
 my state by nature I It was in attending Miss Crockett's 
 
I/O TEN YEARS IN BEWDLEV. 
 
 meetings I began to think, " Wiiat am I living for? 
 and what is eternity ? If it has no end, all that I am 
 sowing now must be reaped then in misery." It was 
 eight or nine months before settled peace came. I can't 
 get on without prayer; it seems as if I can't leave cff 
 when I begin, the Lord Jesus seems so near me. A 
 sermon I heard from Mr. Fletcher in Dowles Church 
 was a great comfort to me. As he was preaching, it 
 seemed to burst in on my heart the new life there was in 
 Christ. Oh, if wicked folk could but see what there was 
 in Him ! But I didn't either. . I should have carried on 
 a few years, and got harder and blinder; but He caught 
 me in the right time. When I am at my mason's work, 
 I get solid thoughts; all our building is vain unless we 
 are building on the chief corner-stone. If I hear a text 
 I puzzle over it, and I think the Holy Spirit works in me 
 by the Word. I quite wonder sometimes how I mortally 
 hate the things and pleasures I used to love. I can't 
 bear to hear them mentioned even. Before, I used to 
 listen to sin ; now, I broil at it, I get away from it. And 
 oh, how sweet it is when the Scripture fills my heart with 
 thoughts of Jesus ! ' " 
 
 Sundays were always very busy days. Twice 
 up the steep hill to Wyre Hill and back, to morning 
 and afternoon school as superintendent, was no 
 trifle, and in addition there was usually the walk 
 with the children to church after morning school. 
 Yet, that the devoted labourer found opportunity 
 for extra work also, the following account will 
 show : — 
 
 " Sunday evening work. This is necessarily very scanty, 
 — jiist calling on two or three sick people, or looking 
 after stray lads from the Sunday school, and generally 
 
A VISIT TO A BACKSLIDHR. 171 
 
 ending in a visit to J. H., to see if he is sober. One 
 Sunday evening a kind helper from Winterdyne, Miss E., 
 accompanied me to try and stir up the absentees from 
 the first class boys to start again. We met a group of 
 four; all promised to come. Up, up the uneven, stony 
 path of Sandy Bank to a boy who in the week had been 
 caught by machinery at his factory. A word there ; then 
 to some mothers who were thankful to have their 
 Charlies and Johns looked after. ' Will you come and 
 see H. ? ' ' Who is he ? ' repHed my companion. ' It is 
 the poor man who has so often broken the pledge; he came 
 drunk to Mr. B.'s temperance meeting, and said he had 
 spent five shillings that day in drink. He took the pledge 
 next day, kept it three months, got a good suit of clothes, 
 went to Miss Crockett's meetings, and then alas ! fell. 
 This is the door.' H., in very old dirty clothes, is sitting 
 with a Testament and book on the table. Really not 
 any chairs for visitors. ' Good evening, H. How is it 
 with you ? ' ' Very bad, miss ; very bad.' ' Have you 
 been drinking ? ' ' Not to-day, but I was all the week 
 nearly.' ' But why do you do it, H. ? You are very 
 miserable, are you not ? ' ' Yes, that's right enough ; but 
 it's company, you see-^it entices a man on.' ' You trust 
 in your own strength, H. You have never really come to 
 the Lord Jesus, who would give you grace against this 
 sin.' ' I often think I will, and I get reading.' ' Have 
 you been to the service? ' ' No; I couldn't go in these 
 clothes.' ' But Where's your nice new suit 1 ' ' Oh, they 
 are gone.' ' To the pawn ? ' ' No ; I parted with them 
 for nothing as you may say ; let 'em go for five shillings ■ 
 a-Tuesday.' ' And I suppose they cost you thirty shillings.' 
 ' Yes, and more. I wasn't in my senses like, and so threw 
 them up for the drink.' Miss E. then spoke kind words to 
 beg and encourage him to return ; to come now — ' to 
 come just as he was to Him who waits to receive sinners.' 
 Prayer followed, and then we went home under the 
 starlit sky, praying that poor H. may yet be one for whom 
 there shall be joy in the world beyond the stars. 
 
172 TEN YEARS IN BEWDLE Y. 
 
 " A contrast to this visit was one last Sunday evening. 
 Coming out of church, Miss E. said, ' Do let us go and 
 see H. again.' Miss C, ever ready for any work, said 
 she would accompany her ; so I went to an invalid out 
 of our district. She had long been suffering, long rejoic- 
 ing, long waiting. I found her in an easy-chair, with a 
 blanket round her, suffering from extreme bronchial 
 oppression of breath and restlessness. An interval of 
 relief came, and she poured forth such _ praises. Long 
 years ago she Ixad been in my dear father's Astley Sunday 
 school, in my sister Ellen's class. It would encourage 
 Sunday-school teachers to hear her testimony. 'Oh, 
 the comfort the hymns and the verses I learnt are to me 
 now ! I remember one Sunday morning I could not say 
 my hymn and gospel, and did not like to go to school. 
 My parents were godly ; you remember that ? Well, 
 father called me and helped me, and heard me say the 
 lessons. Then he took me to church, and put me with 
 the children. After church an_d school I never went off 
 <playing as many did. What I learnt seemed to stick to 
 me, and kept me from ever going to fairs, or dances, or 
 theatres. I went to service, and the last time I saw your 
 dear father was coming from the place. I met him on 
 Astley Common, and you were with him, and he stopped 
 and talked to me, and gave me such good advice. Oh, 
 he was loved ! and it's so wonderful some of his family 
 come to see me now. Praise the Lord ! After that I 
 went to the service of a Mrs. C. ; such a good woman. 
 At this time I was very unhappy about my sins. I was 
 often afraid to go to sleep at night, thinking I should wake 
 in endless torment. One day I opened my Bible at 
 " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteous- 
 ness." That comforted me, and I thought I will seek on. 
 One day I was reading John xx., and how the Lord said, 
 " Behold my hands and my feet." Oh, I can't tell 
 how clear it all seemed then. Jesus died for me ; His 
 hands and His feet were pierced for me. I seemed to 
 see all my sins lying like a great bunch at the foot of 
 
WHERE ARE YOUR SINS? 173 
 
 His cross, and by faith I was enabled. to cast them all on 
 Jesus. Oh, I was so happy ! And my Saviour has never 
 left me ; no, He will never forsake me. I have often 
 been cold and wan_dering, but He is the same. Oh, I long 
 to gee Him, and I shall be like Him.' Afterwards we 
 read the 8th of Romans, and then I sang a hymn, which 
 the poor invalid much enjoyed. Before going, I told her 
 the great privilege we all had of hearing the gospel so 
 plainly set forth by Mr. L. (at some evangehstic services) ; 
 that he asTced this question, ' Where are your sins ? ' 
 With unhesitating confidence her answer was, 'I have 
 cast them all on the Lord Jesus, and He has taken them 
 all away.' 
 
 " But there is the same Spirit, the same Teacher fiDr 
 all God's sons and daughters, and therefore all learn the 
 same lessons. 
 
 'I am a poor sinner, and nothing at all. 
 But Jesus Christ is my all in all. ' " 
 
 During the later years at Bewdley, when the 
 lodgings of the first three years had been exchanged 
 for a house rather further from the rougher districts. 
 Miss Havergal's practice was to devote a portion of 
 Sunday evening to the almshouses near at hand, 
 visiting especially the sjck ^nd infirm who were 
 cut off from public worship, and who greatly 
 valued her ministrations. 
 
 The progress of years brought various changes 
 in the details of work, but the foregoing extracts 
 will give an idea of the spirit which pervaded all, 
 and, are fuller than letters which contain the chief, 
 if not the only record of .her work in subsequent 
 years. Some accounts may, however, be found in 
 
174 TEN YEARS IN BEWDLEY. 
 
 her well-known book, Pleasant Fruits from the 
 Cottage and the Class. 
 
 Reference has already been made to life - size 
 missionary pictures which were exhibited in the 
 Wyre Hill Sunday school. The interest thus 
 awakened was deepened in the summer of 1870 by 
 a visit from Miss Neele, of the C. M. S., which led 
 to the support of two little girls in the Agarpara 
 Orphanage, one of them by the Sunday school. 
 Later on, Miss Havergal interested by her pen 
 other children in different places, and by this means 
 and other efforts, another orphan was supported in 
 the Ludhiana School, then ;Under Miss Jerrom's 
 care. 
 
 Although circumstances obliged her to give up 
 regular work at Bevvdley in 1877, yet whenever she 
 stayed at Winterdyne it was her habit, so far as 
 she was able, to visit old friends amongst the poor. 
 This explains an interesting fact which has just 
 come to light, and which illustrates how wonder- 
 fully God uses His willing instruments, often quite 
 unconsciously to themselves. A worker in Rewdley 
 says that aboat a year and a half ago a woman 
 from Bliss Gate came to her, begging to know where 
 she could fipd Miss Havergal, as her husband 
 wanted to see her, and no clergyman or any one 
 else would do. He was then very ill, and died 
 happily, but wanted to tell Miss Havergal that, 
 
AN OPEN IVINDOW. 175 
 
 t 
 accidentally hearing her voice praying at the bed- 
 side of a sick child through an open window while 
 he was in the garden, was the turning-point in his 
 life, and he longed for the same sweet voice beside 
 his own dying bed. Miss Havergal was then ill 
 and far away, and probably never heard here of 
 this result of her faithful labours. 
 
 This brief memorial of an important period of 
 her life must surely impress every reader with her 
 faithfulness and devotedness. Truly she was a 
 bright example. Although she never ignored the 
 bodily needs of the people, and might often be 
 seen carrying soup or other food to the houses of 
 the sick and poor, renewing the hats of the Sunday- 
 school girls, and helping the poor in innumerable 
 ways, yet her supreme object was to win souls for 
 Christ. For this she was " instant in season, out of 
 season," watching for opportunities, and faithful in 
 using them, never sparing herself, " stedfast, immov- 
 able, always abounding in the work of the Lord ; " 
 and we know that her " labour was not in vain in 
 the Lord." 
 
 Elizabeth Clay, 
 
EXTRACTS FROM MISS S. HEAD'S 
 JOURNAL 
 
 RESPECTING M. V. G. H.'S STAY IN THE 
 LAKE DISTRICT. 
 
 By the kind providence of our God, I was invited by 
 my very dear cousin, Maria Hav-ergal, to join her at the 
 English lakes. 
 
 August 12, 1880. — On arriving at Keswick I spied 
 dear M. looking out for me, and to my surprise- she yvas 
 lame. She had not told me that she had had a narrow 
 escape from a serious accident after parting with her 
 brother at Hereford. She gave me a sweet welcome, 
 and we proceeded to the charmingly-situated hotel where 
 she was staying till she could get rooms, the town being 
 full on account of the Keswick Conference, which had 
 just closed. 
 
 August 13. — M. planned a row on Lake Derwentwater, 
 and a young man staying in the hotel, with whom she had 
 had a little intercourse, proved a good knight-errant. 
 For two hours we rowed about this most beautiful of the 
 lakes ; mountains boujjd it on all sides, forcibly reminding 
 us, as dear M. said, of that descriptive verse of the sweet 
 Psalmist of Israel, " As the mountains are rouijd about 
 Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about His people." 
 
 August 14. — Dear M. being still larae, we rowed again 
 on the lake with a dear Irish girl, M. E, mentioned in 
 E."R. lA.'s Memorials, and her ministering friend, Miss 
 Ward J., who has a rich voice, and as we glided along 
 she started some hymns in which we alj joined, thus 
 greatly heightening our enjoyment. 
 176 
 
niSnOP RYLE AND REV. II. WRIGHT. 177 
 
 August 15. — Sunday. A bright, hot day. Canon 
 Eattersby preached from 2 Cor. iv. 7 : " We have this 
 treasure in earthen vessels," etc. He very touchingly 
 alluded to the skd drowning of the Rev. H. Wright in 
 Coniston Lake on the previous Friday. This devoted 
 servant of God preached his last sermon at Keswick 
 on Sunday, called on M. oh Monday, attended an 
 evening meeting, and proceeded to Coniston on Tuesday, 
 and on Friday while bathing with his sons he was seized, 
 with cramp and drowned. Bishop Ryle preached in the 
 evening on the death of Mr. Wright, whom he had known 
 from a boy, and whose loss is so great to the Church 
 Missionary Society. While I was at church, dear M. 
 addressed the ostlers and stablemen under a tree ; she 
 said they listened most attentively. At night, three of 
 the maid-servants went to her room to have a talk about 
 their state. Though sorely needing rest, she seems- 
 unable to resist the opportunity oi winning souls to 
 Jesus. 
 
 August 1 7. — Moved with M. into lodgings. 
 
 August 19. — Rowed to Lodore Falls, landed, and 
 M. sat on a mossy stone while her three nephews, 
 who arrived two days before, ascended by the Falls. I 
 went by an easier route as high as I could, and had a 
 superb view, though the mountain-tops were veiled. 
 Later we called at the Rectory and received a kind and 
 pastoral welcome, and at eight went to hear the wonderful 
 musical rock-stones. 
 
 August 20. — Excursion to Ulleswater, and the next 
 day the nephews to Skiddaw. 
 
 \Note. — These and other excursions are not described, 
 as M. V. G. H. could' not join in them from her 
 lameness.] 
 
 August 21. — In the, evening we sat in the churchyard. 
 I knitted while M. talked in her own sweet way. I am 
 so glad we came to our quiet lodgings, for she was getting 
 very weary; hotel life is restless, and her intense yearnings 
 to bring souls to Jesus was a perpetual strain. For three 
 M 
 
178 EXTRACTS FROM MISS S. HEAD'S JOURNAI,. 
 
 consecutive nights the young people came and knocked 
 at her door for spirftual talks. 
 
 August 2 2. — My second Sunday at the lakes. Family 
 prayers at 9 o'clock, M. playing a hymn, then a Sabbath 
 Psalm read verse by verse, our good landlady and servant 
 joining, and dear M. prayed so nicely. Then we all 
 went to church, morning and evening, enjoying the ser- 
 vices and Canon Battersby's preaching. After evening 
 service we sat on Castle Hill and enjoyed the lovely 
 prospect of mountains and Lake Derwentwater, the 
 sun settingi in glorious majesty on one side, the moon 
 rising in calm beauty on the other, the clouds fleeting, 
 and the moon gradually as it were surmounting and 
 leaving them all behind, — a" comforting emblem of 
 the Church, and therefore of each individual member 
 being brought safely through all obstacles and shadowy 
 difficulties until safely reaching the home that we 
 long for. 
 
 August 23. — M. roused us all up at 6 a.m. with a 
 proposition that we should start as early as possible for 
 an ascent of Helvellyn. So we had prayers at 7.rs, and 
 the young men engaged a waggonette for the day. We 
 drove to Wythburn, at the foot of Helvellyn, and finding 
 there that Mr. F., of Eaton Square, was going to Gras- 
 mere, M. proposed .that he should go with us there, and 
 then our party go oh to the lake. It was very lovely all 
 the way ; two small hills were pointed out called the 
 Lion and the Lamb from their resemblance, and another 
 like a young lady playing on a piano. During our drive 
 we met a carriage, and Mr. F. recognised three of the 
 ladies, who proved to be very dear Worcestershire friends 
 of M.'s. They flew to her with open arms, and we 
 went to their lovely summer home called The Hollens 
 (this is the, old Saxon word for hollies). It was then 
 settled that the nephews should return and ascend 
 Helvellyn, while M. 'and 1 remained quietly with hir 
 friends. M. calls them " the Doves," as when she first saw 
 them they were all dressed in dove-like silk, with white 
 
F.ARL y CHURC?IYAKD PRA VERS. 179 
 
 satin cap ribbons. After luncheon they took us to see 
 a cottage in their grounds, and dear M. then engaged 
 it for a fortnight, so we go on September i. She was 
 wanting when her nephews left to move to a quiet spot ; 
 she is getting known at Keswick, and many call from 
 all parts, and she often looks so weary. In the evening 
 we drove back to ' Wythburn, where we took up the 
 nephews, and returned to Kesvvict, having exceedingly 
 enjoyed our adventure. 
 
 August 26. — Just as day was breaking, I could see as 
 I lay the sun peeping from behind the mountains, 
 and watched till the earth was flooded with his rays ; 
 then I got up and was on Castle Hill by 6.45. On re- 
 turning to breakfast at 8.30, I found that M. had been 
 before me, descending by a different route ; so we did 
 not meet. She is now busy editing Life Chords, some 
 of her sister's poems, illustrated by the Baroness Helga 
 von Cramm. M. and I went to an evening prayer-meet- 
 ing. Canon B. spoke very forcibly on the abiding union 
 in Christ. I do feel very thankful for this real help to 
 spiritual life. Our Father is so good in providing rich 
 pastures in the wilderness. 
 
 August 2?>. — Another intensely hot day; one of our 
 party, the Rev. J. E. R., left for London ; he is one of 
 "the Rev. Webb Peploe's curates ; we shall miss him, but 
 our young men's sisters, A. M. S. and A. E. S., arrived 
 in the evening. 
 
 August 31. — M. called us up at 6 a.m., proposing 
 as it was such a gloriously clear morning to go in the 
 churchyard, asking us to take our Bibles and " say our 
 prayers " there. Alice and I obeyed the summons, and 
 certainly the mountains were exquisite in the early morn- 
 ing. It was a great scramble to get W. off, as he had 
 fixed to leave by the early coach. This was the day we 
 had arranged to move to Grasmere, and as we drove 
 away lowering clouds made the grand mountains look 
 a deep purple. One very fine effect was a rainbow on the 
 side of one, — the prismatic colours were very visible. 
 
i8o EXTRACTS FROM MISS S. HEAD'S JOURNAL. 
 
 It was raining fast when we arrived at our cottage, called 
 HoUens Lodge. 
 
 September 2. — A -glorious morning after the rain, so 
 M. proposed a little mountaineering. We went up 
 a near hill, and were rewarded for the toilsome ascent by 
 marvellously beautiful views. We Bpied six lakes and 
 three tarns, and nestling far below, the village of Gras- 
 mere with its picturesque church, looking like a lovely 
 miniature set in a vividly green framework. At one of 
 the tarns we met five little girls going to bathe. Of course, 
 dear M. had a sweet little talk with them about learn- 
 ing God's mountain lessons, and they are to call to- 
 morrow for Morning Bells and Little Pillows. In the- 
 evening M. went to see her friends " the Doves.'' 
 
 September 3. — Our kind friends took us in their carriage 
 to Ambleside. We passed Southey's house, and on 
 through ever-varying beauties to Rydal Mount, and had 
 permission to go into Wordsworth's garden and the 
 summer-house where he most frequently wrote. After 
 seeing Ambleside, we 'drove quite a different way back 
 . by the enchanting little Loughrigg tarn, dear M. ex- 
 claiming and I re-echoing. How beautiful ! and how good 
 God is to let us see all this ! 
 
 September _ c^. — Sunday. Dear M. very poorly and 
 restless, and could not go to church, but she-did not 
 lose anything, — a disappointing service. In the evening 
 we passed the church ; M. looked in and accosted the 
 verger, saying, " I am so sorry, so sorry." Said he, " What 
 for, ma'am ? " She replied, " To see this cross and candle- 
 sticks and flowers ; I am a Protestant, and we have no 
 business with these symbols in our church ; it is break- 
 ing the second commandment, ' Thou shalt not make 
 to thyself any graven image, etc. Thou shalt not bow- 
 down to them.' " He answered, " The teaching is "not 
 amiss, and people need not look at the things ; " but she 
 maintained that it was decidedly wrong. 
 
 September 12. — Sunday. My last day at HoUens 
 Lodge opened brightly. I went to church alone in the 
 
FAREWELL TO THE NOLLE NS. iSi 
 
 morning, and with M. to hear the catechizing in the 
 afternoon, and in the evening we attended a drawing- 
 room meeting at the Hollens; it was a real communion 
 of saints — most refreshing. 
 
 September 13.- — We left Grasmere for Ambleside, 
 steamed down the graceful Lake Windermere, thence by 
 rail to Furness Abbey, and the next day I bade adieu to 
 the lakes and mountains, thanking our Father for this 
 wondrous recruiting of mental and physical power. 
 
 \Note. — Many more expeditions were made before 
 September 13, but as no more of M. V. G. H.'s sayings 
 were recorded, the accounts are not copied here.] 
 
JOURNAL OF 
 
 A VISIT TO AIX-LES-BAINS AND 
 
 SWITZERLAND IN 1882. 
 
 " That instant."— Luke ii. 38. 
 
 "That instant" seems one of life's hinges, the 
 opening or shutting of events totally new to us, 
 but proving that our moments, our steps, " even " as 
 the " hairs of our head," are all counted and ordered 
 beforehand by our loving Father. 
 
 So with the aged Anna, that temple worshipper 
 and watcher. The key-note of her life-long yearn- 
 ing seems given — that she was " looking for Re- 
 demption." And so when God's "instant," the 
 fulness of time, was come, the Redeemer visibly 
 entered the temple of this His fallen world, and 
 in " due time " was manifested in the temple at 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 By the Holy Ghost, Simeon came " that instant '' 
 into the temple, took in reverent arms Immanuel. 
 Then came the golden " instant " of Anna's life ; she 
 came, she saw, she believed, she praised, and hence- 
 forth " spake of Him." Forgotten all her weary 
 vigils — her dim, yearning lookings ; the Christ was 
 
FROM LONDON TO PARIS. 183 
 
 born, the Redeemer had come to His people, and 
 she saw and rejoiced ! 
 
 It seems a " come down " to choose this super- 
 scription, " that instant," for things that happened 
 during a few weeks' stay in Switzerland. Yet the 
 words did often flit through my mind, when God's 
 tender ovei;rulings consciously hovered over our 
 steps. May it be only for His glory ! 
 
 May 25, 1882. — Left London with my niece, 
 Alice E. S;, reaching Dover in clouds and rain 
 and rough waves. From Calais we proceeded to 
 Paris, and at 9 P.M. reached JJ Avenue Wagram ; 
 welcomed by our Champ^ry friend Margaret C. 
 And the last time I saw her ! darling F. stood 
 waving her hand, at Pension Schonfels, in 1876. 
 
 Miss Leigh was absent, but her manifold organ- 
 izations seemed all alive and beating time truly. 
 Many histories were written in the numerous faces 
 that flitted past me the next morning, and some 
 spoke of my sister F., and the blessing her books 
 were to them; and it was a little "afterward" 
 to me, to be told that my Memorials of her had 
 helped and taught them. 
 
 Miss G. not only told me of the liftings she 
 received by F.'s works, but the marvellous power 
 soine of her thoughts have had with infidels. 
 She gave me particulars of one most learned man 
 who was staggered by the genius, the master 
 
I §4 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO AIX-LES-BAINS. 
 
 thought of F.'s argument in her Thoughts of 
 God. 
 
 I was much impressed with the utter self-denia,l 
 of Miss Leigh's lady workers. Dear Margaret C, 
 for instance, did not seem to have one hour to call 
 her own — seven classes weekly, ten hours' readiness 
 to interview the hundreds of applicants for advice, 
 situations, sympathy or help, and listening to the 
 sad and weary — investigating the tangled threads 
 of many a young life. 
 
 And all this in an atmosphere of ceaseless clang 
 and direful din night and day. We never slept 
 one night in Paris, though Avenue Wagram is 
 called quiet ; so we rushed gladly away by night 
 train to Dijon. A young Italian lady and lovely 
 child were with us — such beautiful eyes ! And 
 when her darling was cozily tucked up for the 
 night, -wssaw God's lesson in that mother's watchful 
 eye and care. They were going to Naples, a forty- 
 eight hours' journey. It was pleasant to have her 
 gentle response to a few words, and after speaking 
 of Jesus and His great love, the Italian kissed my 
 hand so gracefully. 
 
 About 3 A.M. we left the train for a few hours' 
 rest at Dijon ; how the faint dawn and utter calm 
 reminded me of 1876, when dear F. was with 
 me, and we were shown to the same rooms in the 
 Jura Hotel. Left Dijon at i r.M. for Aix-les-Bains, 
 
J'RIENDS I.V NEED. iSs 
 
 and ought to have arrived at 8 P.M., but it was 
 nearly 1 1 P.M. when we reached Aix. 
 
 We had written for rooms at the " Hotel de la 
 Paix." We saw, on the platform a solitary figure, 
 evidently not knowing Avhat to do ; so I spoke, and 
 she said it was too late to go to some friends, and 
 would be glad to follow us to our hotel. While 
 Alice and I were enjoying tea and chicken, we 
 both wondered if the stranger had like fare. So I 
 ■wtnt on a voyage of discovery au troisieme, and as 
 usual hit the right door. " No, she lunched at one, 
 and would now take some water ! " Soon Alice 
 and I stole up the staircase, for our fowl had wiiigs 
 to spare. We met again occasionally, and Medora 
 C. told us she was a special correspondent of some 
 Herald, both in poetry and prose. From the far 
 West she seemed to have wandered to Paris, and 
 then to Aix, to find an artist friend, who, however, 
 had left. 
 
 Sunday began as we laid down ; but truly 
 no outward calm, no Sabbath at Aix, only 
 an hour's quiet; then tramp, tramp, and before 
 four, workmen and carpenters' hammerings and 
 sawings and shoutings were incessant. Alas ! 
 we were just opposite a theatre and casino. 
 The little English' Church was overflowing, so 
 I brought chairs from pur hotel and sat in the 
 open air. Medora came and looked over my 
 
1 86 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO AIX-LES-BAINS. 
 
 liymn-book. It was rather a comfortable service. 
 Again but little sleep ; so by 4 A.M. on Monday 
 I was off to the high outskirts of the tpwn to 
 reconnoitre for more peaceable quarters. I wan- 
 dered far and high, every one was astir, at least 
 the natives. No lodgings to be found, but at " that 
 instant" I met a woman resting her bundle, so I 
 chatted awhile. She looked sad, and told me she 
 had just said adieu to her husband and two dear 
 little ones. He could not work, so she was going 
 to Lyons to get in an hotel, and earn for them. 
 I had no books with me, but said, " If you will come 
 to my hotel, I will give you one at 9 o'clock." She 
 hesitated, so I said, " Will you come with me, then, 
 now." "Oh yes;" so we had a long talk, and passing 
 by the image of the Virgin, gave me the right to 
 protest. I always do, and find it answers to speak 
 boldly against trusting to any one but Jesus. She 
 sat down at the hotel while I wrote her name 
 in F.'s U Invitation Royale ; it was delightful to 
 send one to Lyons. Of course I helped her for the 
 journey. 
 
 After breakfast Alice and I took a carriage in 
 search, and found quiet rooms at the Chalet Lubini 
 — paying a franc a-day for service ; which ser- 
 vice, I soon found, must be mainly my own. 
 However, I made our table pretty with vine leaves 
 and flowers under a shady tree. Only one day's 
 
MADAME DE LILLE'S VILLA. 1S7 
 
 civility ! no " service " evidently for us, and the 
 third morning I found the breakfast plates locked 
 up, and the teapot ! and all our belongings poked 
 into a small cupboard, and madame was hard, and 
 I told her ladies never did what I was obliged 
 to do there, especially as I paid her own terms — 
 seven francs per day for two very small bedrooms, 
 no salon and no food. I was so very poorly also, 
 and felt altogether cast down. Madame even 
 grumbled at our garden - table. However, I got 
 a plate for Alice, and said no more to her. I 
 thought of One for whom there was so often " no 
 room." It always answers to tell Jesus_;frj'/. Then, 
 at "that instant," I remembered the night -before 
 our doctor met us coming from the Baths, and 
 desired us to walk a longer way back, and that 
 en passa7it I had just seen a lovely villa, with roses 
 and arches and orange trees — a very Eden. I' 
 went straight there, and Madame de Lille came in 
 her dressing-gown and night-cap. It was evident 
 it was very first-class, and soon she told me only 
 duchesses, countesses, and even pashas came there 
 — sixty and seventy francs per day for a suite of 
 rooms. I told her exactly how it was,— for the 
 first time in my life I had found ««civility ; the 
 abstraction of the plates and teapot seemed to 
 touch her, and furthermore she frankly informed 
 me she "liked my face very much!" so then I 
 
iSS JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO AIX-LES-BAI-NS. 
 
 opened my brooch, and she was so taken with my 
 father's distmgu^ features, that she at once offered 
 me two rooms for eleven francs daily, and our 
 meals would be served in a pretty vestibule, but 
 on rai-riy days in a sdlle a manger. I said I would 
 bring my niece to see them. 
 
 I was so glad not to tell Alice of the cloud till 
 the " instant " guidance had come with it. So we 
 went, and were treated most courteously then, and 
 during the whole of our stay. The rooms were 
 charming. The garden of little terraces and slopes 
 covered with- flowers and roses climbing up the 
 tulip and lime trees ; roses growing as nature 
 meant them to, not tied like martyrs to stakes, 
 our stiff English way. Such arbours and trellises 
 of Virginian creepers ; many orange and lemon 
 trees ; in the distance, the blue lake of Bourget, 
 and above the " Deut du Chat ; ' and to the left, 
 far heights that caught the sunset glow, and-shone 
 in true Swiss rose-t'irit. 
 
 We observed that madame never went to mass, 
 and spoke very liberally of our Church. One day 
 she told us that she was brought up a strict 
 Catholic, with the greatest reverence for the holy 
 Fathers. But when travelling with her parents, 
 and at a large ta6/e d'liote, in a town where some 
 mission services- were being held, three of the 
 priests sat together, and were enlivening themselves 
 
EXCURSION TO LES INNOCENTS. 189 
 
 and others with details of all the confessional 
 secrets poured out to them that day. Joining 
 coarsely at what seemed to her so sacred ; this, 
 and their indulgence in wine, etc., so ulterly dis- 
 gusted her, that she never went either to confession 
 or chapel again for forty'years. " But," she added, 
 " I must send for them once — when I am dying, for 
 the last sacraments." I pleaded that, with the 
 Lord Jesus for her Priest, she would not need this. 
 "Ah, but then I should not be buried in the 
 Church." We had many talks, and once she knelt 
 down with me and prayed for the Holy Spirit's 
 teaching. Amen and Amen. 
 
 One of the excursions is to "Les Innocents," 
 about three miles away. We went by diligence, 
 June 2 1st, part of the way, or rather, being over- 
 crowded, had a nice carriage, sharing it with an 
 old priest, with such a sad, weary look. He told 
 us of his wanderings in America, England, etc., and 
 now he was come for the end of his days at the 
 Monastery of the Haute Coombe. " So," I said, 
 '■ you are quite a pilgrim ; it is so happy to be 
 Zion's pilgrim, and the New Jerusalem in sight." 
 "Ah yes, yes, but we do not know." So I took 
 out my Bible and said how precious that guide- 
 book was, — more precious still Jesus Himself ; and 
 I told him of F.'s joyful sure hope in life and 
 death. He accepted her French leaflets, placing 
 
ISO JOURNAL OF A VJSIT TO AIX-LES-BAINS. 
 
 them in the leaves of his missal, but the end of the 
 chestnut avenue was come, and we left the carriage 
 for our walk. I do hope I shall get to that 
 monastery some day. After a toiling hot walk 
 we reached one of the establishments where the 
 Angora rabbits arc kept in large numbers, for the 
 sake of their soft fur. This fur is pulled from 
 them, the motherly dame showing us how to do 
 it, and assuring us they liked it. Some were pure 
 white, others dark slate colour. The fur is twisted 
 on a primitive wheel. 
 
 Then we tried to follow the guide-book, and did 
 at last stand on a railway bridge, overlooking, the 
 Lake Bourget. But iny pen will never give an 
 idea of that glorious revelation of pure and perfect 
 sky - reflections — here azure, there opaline, and 
 again deep ruby shimmerings on the lake ; while 
 the steep banks of the " Deut du Chat " seemed 
 microscopically clear, in the bluest of blue 
 shadings. 
 
 Returning, we were tired and hungry, and so sat 
 down under the shady trees of a little roadside 
 restaurant for bread and milk. Presently Alice 
 said, " Auntie, I see some one very ill inside the 
 door." I asked the daughter if any one was ill t 
 " Oh yes, my mother has been ill for some years ; 
 she can seldom come downstairs." So it was an 
 "instant," for if Alice had not seen her I might 
 
THE GOOD WORDS OF JESUS. igi 
 
 never have had the privilege of speaking to one of 
 God's hidden ones. Instantly I found the right 
 ring — that indescribable something, that shine of 
 Christ's own love and light. And as I repeated 
 my little stock of God's promises in French, I was 
 delighted to find her taking the verses up, and 
 repeating them without me. Thus she knew John 
 xiv. 6, John iii. i6, i John i. 7, and others. Then 
 I lifted my heart for what else to repeat, and it was 
 singular that when I repeated John x. 27, 28, 29, 
 that seemed just tlie comfort she needed. For the 
 fear had come. I will quote her words. " Would 
 Jesus hold her always f Plow, when death came ? 
 Sometimes she had no fear ; again it came, for she 
 was almost blind and could not read, and no one 
 ever came to speak of Jesus, my dear Jesns, as you, 
 the kind stranger, do. Ah yes, these are good, 
 good words. And when I was a child at school, 
 the first words I ever learnt are these that you say 
 to me to-day. Ah yes, then I learnt the gospels 
 and the epistles, and all my life those good, good 
 words have come to me again and again. They 
 are God's words, and so they cannot die. Ah, 
 why do they not teach them now ? It is wrong, so 
 wrong; the children never learn them now, and 
 how can they find the good Jesus if they don't 
 know His good words by heart .' In my long 
 dark nights the good words of God come again to 
 
192 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO AIX-LES-BAINS. 
 
 me, and now you repeat the same. God must 
 have sent you ! " etc. 
 
 She was so thankful when I knelt and came with 
 her to the Good Shepherd. I left her_rejoicing in 
 His promise, " None shall pluck them out of my 
 hand." Dear old Constance ! would that the School 
 Board Bible extinguishers had learnt your logic ! 
 
 It was pleasant to post her a Testament and 
 F. R. H.'s French books. 
 
 Then we explored one of the oldest castles in 
 France, quite deserted, only cats and chickens 
 about in the dark entrance-hall. We had to hurry 
 back, taking short cuts through vineyards, to catch 
 our return diligence, and verily we were but just an 
 "instant" in time. After our three hours' excursion, 
 and the sun just grilling, we were thankful to ride 
 back. 
 
 We were extremely interested in the gardener 
 and his wife, the aiisiniere, at Villa Bel Air. They 
 were- Vaudois, and, as they said, " Protestatite and 
 Evangdlique." They had formerly a little farm, six 
 cows and some goats, and dear little ones — Ida and 
 Albert. The good man signed a bond for his 
 friend, and in time creditors came for his little all, 
 " thus smarting for his suretyship." All was sold 
 up, the children left with the grand-parents, and 
 husband and wife obliged to go into service. .And 
 French service and servitude is different indeed frorn 
 
SUNDA V PARABLES. 193 
 
 English. On Sunday, cleaning and gardening went 
 on ; it did so jar one's own happy rest to see this 
 good man at work, raking all the gravel paths and 
 clipping the trees. Often he said, "There is no 
 rest for us; it is not like this in Switzerland." I 
 saw his poor wife Jenni crying, and asking why, — 
 "because she had not once been allowed to go to 
 church, though Felice was allowed to go to mass 
 at 5 A.M." 
 
 -Whereupon I made little Sunday parables to 
 madame, describing the happy rest the English 
 servants had, particularizing on Sundays at Oak- 
 hampton and Winterdyne; theideaof the gardeners 
 and coachman, etc., sitting down on morocco chairs 
 and round the dining-room table, by 9.30 A.M., with 
 their masters and Bibles, was a forcible contrast. 
 Anyway, it so far hit the mark that the next 
 Sunday Emil was allowed to church at noon. The 
 succeeding Sabbath' he and Jenni and Fdlice were 
 sent out for a walk. 
 
 June i6tk. — By train to Chambdry, fifty miles, 
 to visit Challes, whose sulphurous springs are very 
 famous. Several omnibuses were waiting ; Alice 
 chose an open one with a canopy fringed like a 
 great parasol ; this took us to the " Hotel d'Angle- 
 terre," and it was the very nicest of all, and here we 
 camped for a long day. I was washing my hands 
 in an upper corridor, when a door opened to let 
 N 
 
194 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 loose a boy, who had evidently longed for the same. 
 His mother saw me, and bowed and spoke in 
 French. I answered we were strangers just come 
 for the day. 
 
 " Would I not come in and rest in her room ? " 
 
 After a few quite general remarks, the lady said 
 in English, " You are Miss Havergal. For a fort- 
 night I have been trying to find you in Aix. At 
 last I asked Dr. Cazalis, and he said you were at 
 Villa Bel Air, and I was coming to call. Your 
 sister's writings have been such, such comfort to 
 me, also to an invalid friend ; indeed, the Bible and 
 F. R. H.'s books were the only ones she read." 
 
 I found M. Watson had instructed this Mrs. 
 Parry to seek me out ! Her opening the door 
 " that instant " was the missing clue. 
 
 Alice went with me roving among boulders and 
 flowers ; a splendid dark red orchis, with spurs 
 three inches long, was quite new to me. Returning, 
 I felt wistful for one bit of work, and speered about 
 vainly, till on the stairs a scrub-maiden, all in the 
 rough, but with wavy hair and soft dark violet eyes, 
 stopped and eagerly took some cards. She told 
 me she was from Italia, far from her mother. She 
 knew French, and learnt off a text and a prayer. 
 Her name was "Jacinth,'' and why shall I not hope 
 to meet her again within the city whose foundations 
 are garnished with "jacinth" and precious stones. 
 
THE CATHEDRAL AT GENEVA. 195 
 
 Tuesday, June 27. — Left Aix at 7.45 A.M. for 
 Geneva. 
 
 The route was a succession of lovely surprises, 
 by the shores of that exquisite Lake Bourget. 
 The Rhone was on the other side, as we left it 
 roaring through boulders, with woods and heights 
 and valleys smiling far and near. 
 
 Arrived at Geneva soon after 10 A.M., we de- 
 posited our baggage on a convenient stage, whence 
 our steamer for Chillon would leave at 1.20. We 
 took a carriage to drive round the city. Beautiful 
 Geneva ! with the rushing Rhone of deepest blue. 
 
 We went into the cathedral, and saw Calvin's 
 chair. Many footfalls seenied to me still echoing 
 in those aisles — my godmother's, Mrs. Vernon 
 Graham — and how I wished I could go to her tomb 
 at Petit Sacconnex ! Then I remembered how 
 sister Miriam and that happy party were there in 
 1869; and now darling Minnie and Fanny have 
 met for ever in the temple above. And one older 
 memory still; my own dear father once stood 
 there, and I knew how his grand Protestant heart 
 would thank God for the Reformation truths rooted 
 there and remaining still. And others that stood 
 with dear papa are all gone — gone ! It was 
 saddening, but the sun-ray stole in, bringing the 
 cheer, "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, 
 and for ever." 
 
196 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 We had prayed for guidance that morning, so 
 of course it was given ; and in one case, our turning 
 up the right-hand street, and not the left, led to a 
 singular "instant." We passed some musical-box 
 manufactories, but being hungry we thought we 
 would find a restaurant first, and out of many chose 
 one facing a very large music - box manufactory. 
 Lunch despatched, we went in, asking permission 
 to hear one or two of the boxes play, but said 
 that we should not be purchasers. Chairs were 
 politely placed, and at " that instant " a party 
 entered for the same purpose. I did not look at 
 the gentleman and his wife and two sons, being 
 absorbed in the novel adjuncts to our ordinary 
 musical-boxes. One had two combs, producing 
 the double effect of violin and piano. Another, 
 sweeter still, gave a harp accompaniment. After 
 a time the gentleman said, " Have you any sacred 
 music ? these are all secular airs.'' " Yes, we have 
 Sankey's." Turning to me, the man snapped his 
 fingers, saying, "Sankey's music is weak — it is 
 nothing." I said, " Still there is a marvellous power 
 in Sankey's tunes. I grant you that. the harmonies 
 are weak, but they move the masses in England." 
 " Ah, ah ! you mean those revival services. As for 
 that, they are all humbug. I am a Jew. I have 
 been in London, and you Christians will spend 
 hundreds to turn one of us from the faitb of our 
 
MR. SANKEY AND HIS SONGS. 197 
 
 forefathers — that execrable Society ! — and you let 
 your poor starve. Give me a religion that feeds 
 men's bodies ! " 
 
 I answered, "Granted there are poor, but with 
 many it is their vice and their drunkenness, and 
 our English charities provide abundantly for the 
 deserving." 
 
 " Ah, yes," he said ; " but what is the use of your 
 grand excitement meetings ? " 
 
 I said, " What is the use of your making all this 
 lovely music if no one comes to admire and hear 
 it ? We Christians know the music of the name of 
 Jesus, the Saviour, and we know He is preparing 
 celestial music ; so we do want all these poor, 
 wretched ones to come and share it with us, and 
 often Sankey's songs induce them to learn the way 
 to heaven." 
 
 " Ah ! you are sincere, I daresay ; but it is 
 nothing to me, and Sankey's music is poor I " (The 
 party meanwhile had gone into the next saloon.) 
 
 " Well," I said, " wait till you hear Sankey sing ; 
 that is magnificent ! " Before this I said to Alice, 
 " Was that Sankey?"' I thought she said " No," 
 and being short-sighted thought no more of it, till 
 a shopman came to the irate Jew,. saying, " Hush ! 
 that is Mr. Sankey himself I " 
 
 I rushed into the next room to Mr. Sankey, and 
 he advanced with — " Maria Havergal ! " He gave 
 
198 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 me a chair, for " that darling Frances " was all that 
 I could say, as the last time we met she was with 
 us in full health and vigour, standing with the 
 children of Newton School, leading and singing 
 with them " Safe in the arms of Jesus " as Mr. and 
 Mrs. Sankey's carriage passed by, after their plea- 
 sant visit to us at the Mumbles, April 1879. And 
 then Mr. Sankey got out to thank them, and to 
 shake hands with old Mrs. Barry, his washer- 
 woman. Dear Fanny then jumped in the carriage, 
 and went a short way, leaving them at the bottom 
 of that steep pitch, that cold east bank, where not 
 long' after her glory warrant reached her in that 
 singular rain-cloud. Sankey told me how bright 
 and young she looked, and when he said, " We'll 
 meet again," she said, " Yes ; if not here, in the 
 bright city there ! " and her upward finger and 
 waving handkerchief was his last sight of F. R. H. 
 
 It was comforting to hear from him and dear 
 Mrs. Sankey of so much blessing from her words 
 and the Memoir, which seemed specially useful to 
 young converts. But my time was passing, and it 
 was well that Alice reminded me we had only 
 a quarter of an hour to find our steamer and- 
 embark. 
 
 The day was perfect for our lake views, and the 
 clear waters reflected the blue sky. It was not till 
 nearly 6 P.M. that we neared the landing pier at 
 
REFLECTED RAYS AT CHILLON. 199 
 
 Chillon, and found, as I had arranged, our faithful 
 maid, M. Farrington, waiting for me. 
 
 I was more interested than I expected in the interior 
 of the Castle of Chillon, and we saw that curious 
 flickering on the ceiling of Bonnivard's prison, the 
 reflection of the movements of the ripples on the 
 lake, which Fanny so well describes in Swiss Letters, 
 and no other traveller seems to have noticed. One 
 could not help hoping those same reflected sun- 
 rays may have cheered the heart-hopeless prisoners 
 with thoughts of Him, the Light of Light. 
 
 The audience-chamber of the Duke of Savoy 
 and the bedroom of the Duchess stirred up olden 
 memories of troublous times. 
 
 Thursday, July 29. — To Vernayaz, passing 
 Mouthey, where dear Fanny and I took the dili- 
 gence for Chamb^ry in 1876. All so familiar ; all 
 the same, except 'that sunny presence. 
 
 At Vernayaz we took a mountain carriage for the 
 steep zigzag road which winds up the very face of 
 rock and precipice. How the pines root in fissures 
 and crevices ! and how the boulders in their glorious 
 boldness jut in and out, hiding the tenderest ferns 
 and mosses creeping far out of reach ! 
 
 Wise little mosses ! surely you creep 
 Over the boulders grand and steep ; 
 Brave little mosses ! your song I would sing, 
 Firm on the rock I evermore cling. 
 
 — M. V, G. H. 
 
200 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 The route was far more grand than I remem- 
 bered it, — ravines and gorges, heights and depths, 
 that just cannot be described ; and silent praise 
 for all these works of the Lord — great and mar- 
 vellous — seemed the only outlet possible. 
 
 We passed so many well-known haunts. Fanny's 
 favourite walks and seats, and the pines where we 
 spent our church time on Sundays — even the very 
 rose trees with their dark red flowers recalled the 
 past. It was pleasant to be recognised by Valerie 
 Loufat at the " Pension du Mont Blanc," at Fins 
 Hauts ; and the old mother was specially warm in 
 welcoming me back. " Here are the same rooms, 
 mademoiselle ! " Yes, there it was, that little bare 
 pine closet — the simplest bed aad solitary chair 
 that Fanny occupied. I wondered, as I often do, 
 at her extreme content with the barest necessities 
 of life around her, and her merry adaptativeness 
 to what would be unendurable to many. And yet 
 few had more elegant tastes. 
 
 Deep love for her memory dwells in Fins'Hauts, 
 — and to see the people kiss her photographs ! 
 More than that, I found- the truths she had taught 
 and sung were firmly rooted. The mother's " Bien 
 sur" followed all the promises I read with her; 
 and the father's response was also satisfactory. 
 Both the following days were wet ; so we only had 
 a beautiful gleam or two. 
 
THE PRIEST OF FINS HAUT. 
 
 Sunday brought sunshine, and Alice went with 
 me to the high wallc where we could see Mont 
 Blanc. 
 
 I hoped a few could come for a Bible reading ; 
 but no notice being given, it was a failure. In the 
 afternoon I went among the chalets, and found 
 the old friend, who at once remembered me and 
 our talk about the one " bon baton.'' Several came 
 out of their chalets, and brought chairs, so there 
 was a little seed-sowing, and the children took 
 cards and verses home. 
 
 After tea, I passed some ladies, and offered F.'s 
 leaflets. They at once exclaimed, " Oh, they are 
 dear Miss Havergal's ! " They were from Laus- 
 anne, and knew all her books well. 
 
 " Ka,trine," the priest's servant, was much on my 
 mind; and finding she was still there, I went to 
 speak to her ; but the priest himself opened the 
 door, and said she was gone to Salvans that 
 evening. 
 
 I said it would have been pleasant to see her. 
 " Possibly he remembered my coming for the loan 
 of his Bible six years ago, and his correcting the 
 hymn which I now offered him in print." Yes, he 
 did remember ; but he must beg me not to distri- 
 bute them in the village. He said, " It is not the 
 doctrine of our Church." So I pointed to the lines, 
 "Tous mes moments, tous mes jours Seront pour 
 
202 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Toi ! " etc. " Is not that your faith ? " " Yes ; but 
 you despise good works — you think nothing of 
 them." I said, " Excuse me — see this line, ' Que 
 je vive et que je meure, Seulement pour Toi ! ' 
 What can be better than every moment given 
 to Jesus Christ?" "Ah, yes; but you place no 
 merit in it." " Certainly not ! " and turning to 
 Titus iii. 5, I read St. Paul's verdict. 
 
 We talked some time, quietly, the priest looking 
 at all the references I turned up. I told him of 
 F.'s happy death, singing as she crossed the river, 
 and that "the blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, 
 cleanseth us from all sin," was her only confidence 
 in death, as it had been in her life. He said mruch 
 that was truth, and admitted that when he came to 
 die, if no priest were near, he should make his act 
 of contrition to God only ; and so we parted, he 
 accepting F.'s " Seulement pour Toi," and " Sans 
 Christ." (Her "Invitation Royale"went by post 
 some time before.) 
 
 Monday, we left Fins Hauts, , an hour's easy 
 walk down to Chatelard, where carriages pass for 
 Tete Noire, or Chamouni. The Hotel Royal 
 there is kept by Frederic Loufat, Valerie's brother. 
 Six years ago he was master of the Couronne at 
 Argentifere, where we passed a fortnight. It "was 
 touching to see that man's feeling for Fanny — with 
 tears telling me all he remembered of her, and the 
 
ONE GOOD STAFF IS ENOUGH. 203 
 
 impression indelibly left. He had seen much 
 sorrow. His first-born son died in a few weeks. 
 He said, " Oh, how I grieved ! I could not say, 
 God's will be done. Then we had another beauti- 
 ful boy, and I said, ' O God, it is Thy child !' And 
 when in eight months it sickened, I never prayed 
 for its life, only ' God's will be done ; ' and so He 
 sent for my little one. Again, a most lovely boy 
 was given us for eighteefi months only. God took 
 it. I cried, but I did only say, ' It is the Lord's 
 will ;' and I knew how very safe it would ever be." 
 This simple submission was surely good fruit. 
 
 The wife's remembrance of Fanny was even 
 more distinct and almost wonderful, — how she 
 kissed the photograph ! Some time after, in the 
 most earnest way she implored me to spare her 
 one for her treasure. I do not like to repeat all 
 her soul confidences, but gladly did she accept my 
 proposal to go upstairs that we might quietly seek 
 the Lord, and verily I believe it was a time of 
 finding and trusting. Most encouraged was I 
 when she told me that some simple words I had 
 said to her six years ago had followed her almost 
 daily. Of course I had forgotten them ; but she 
 said that when I went to say good-bye in her 
 room, r spoke of the one Saviour — the one hope as 
 so sure and sufficient, and, pointing to my alpen- 
 stock, said, " One good staff is enough." 
 
204 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Thus one passing word was blessed. May this 
 encourage fellow-travellers. 
 
 We had to vi2Xtfive hours there before, a carriage 
 passed which could take us on to Chamouni ; but 
 I could not regret the delay. And singular to 
 relate, on coming again in three days, I found poor 
 Madame Loufat seriously ill, and in such agony, 
 that I could only sit by her, and say a word or two. 
 So I was thankful I had taken the "instant," given 
 pn Monday for that prayer. Her husband seemed 
 so tender to her, and I am glad they have one 
 little boy living. 
 
 In our carriage to Argentiere were some most 
 lively French girls. The road was very steep. 
 Alice walked much, but I could not. We passed 
 the terrible bridge where a year ago, as a carriage 
 was passing, it gave way, and the travellers were 
 dashed in the strong current beneath, among the 
 boulders. The father, mother, and daughter were 
 drowned. No trace of the poor girl was found till 
 lately her hair was discovered. The driver was 
 saved, but went quite mad from the terrible scene. 
 
 Not very far on the same road we came to a 
 bridge which from rains needed repair, and one 
 plank was gone. All got off the carriage except the 
 driver and I, so the French girls said, " Vous n'avez 
 jamais peur." This opened the way for speaking of 
 the joyful confidence of a good hope in Christ. 
 
MARIE C. AT ARGENTIERE. 205 
 
 Before arriving at Argcntiere, we all had to walk 
 down the very steep hill ; and my young French 
 companion was truly interested about dear Fanny's 
 happy death. That she had no fear then seemed 
 marvellous to her, — or that she could really be 
 "happy" when the doctor said she could not live. 
 They all seemed quite pleased with some leaflets. 
 They went on to Chamouni ; but we stopped at 
 the Couronne at Argenti^re. I found my way to 
 the same bedrooms as in 1876. It was nearly 
 7 P.M. when our repast was over. I was tired, but 
 knew it was my only " instant " to find a girl I had 
 been much interested in. So Alice and I started 
 towards the rocky nest of chilets. The path 
 seemed very steep now, though I thought nothing 
 of it then. The rose colour was on Mont Blanc. 
 It seemed but yesterday since Fanny and I saw so 
 many golden sunsets. But Marie Carriere was in 
 my mind ; and just as I wondered how to reach 
 her, I saw three boys some way off, and hailed 
 them, " Do you know Marie Carriere .? " " Oh, yes, 
 yes!" "Then will you tell her, her friend the 
 English lady is come again, and is waiting here to 
 see her." Off they ran, and in ten minutes Marie 
 came bounding down the rocks, and was indeed 
 glad to see me. 
 
 It was her own brother to whom I gave the 
 message. Curious he should have been there the 
 
206 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 " instant " I needed some one to take it. For the 
 rose colour had paled, and twilight was fast coming. 
 Marie sat by me on a boulder, and we went over the 
 precious promises I longed should be good seed. 
 Then she walked with me to the hotel for a 
 French Testament and a little present. It was 
 almost dark, and I did not see a gentleman 
 there till the waiter came. I don't know wky, but 
 I said, " Possibly you want your supper, so I will 
 not hinder the waiter." The stranger said (in 
 French), " Thanks, I am quite exhausted, as I have 
 tasted nothing since morning." -We chatted till his 
 supper came — only a jug of milk and dry bread ! 
 Then I ordered my bread and milk, and, turning to 
 the traveller, said, " You seem like me, in the Land 
 of Promise ! " He replied in English, " You may 
 do it from ckoice — mine is from necessity; for the 
 last three months I have taken nothing else, and 
 only twice a day. For five or six years I have 
 been travelling about as an evangelist. I go in 
 these valleys among unfrequented chalets. I 
 preach wherever I can. Sometimes I sell New 
 Testaments and portions ; but my stock is ex- 
 hausted." I said it would be pleasant if he would 
 accept some of my stock to disperse, and went and 
 brought him a selection, including F.'s "Sans Christ" 
 and " L'Invitation Royale," and some English leaf- 
 lets. The moment he saw her name, he exclaimed, 
 
A WANDERING EVANGELIST. 3)7 
 
 "Ah, I know that blessed life ! — no other books have 
 taught me like F. R. H.'s. They are so Scriptural ; 
 they seem inspired." Of course I told him she was 
 my sister. He thanked me, and was extremely 
 interested in seeing her photographs. 
 
 Without any request, he told me that some years 
 ago he was curate to Rev. A. Dallas; knew Mr. 
 Cory and other clergymen. He gave some very 
 singular instances of God's providing for him. 
 Some time before, he was at Geneva, and after 
 paying his lodging, on Sunday morning found 
 himself without francs or food. He walked through 
 several streets (not knowing any one), and was 
 singularly impelled to knock at the door of a fine- 
 looking pension. It was opened by an old servant 
 of a cousin. At once she recognised him, and 
 begged him to walk in ! Food and lodging followed. 
 Another Sunday he was breakfastless, and thought 
 he would see if there was any prayer-meeting, and 
 seeing a lady with her Bible, enquired. She led 
 the way, and being too soon, a person fell into 
 conversation with him and invited him to lunch. 
 He was a grocer. Finding Mr. Amersley was an 
 evangelist, he gave him twenty francs, and thus, he 
 said, " My need was supplied in answer to my 
 prayer, as I walked hungrily up and down the 
 streets." I suggested that if he worked with some 
 society he would not come into so great straits ; 
 
2o8 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 but he said, " He walked as the Lord led him, and 
 so far had been much blessed." He told me some- 
 times it was very difficult to get a hearing, that he 
 met such bigotry and superstition. I told him how 
 often it was my prayer that God would order my 
 steps ; and specially that morning had I asked to 
 be let do something for Jesus my Lord, and so I 
 should think it a privilege if he would accept help 
 as from the Lord. So I wrapped up thirty francs, 
 rejoicing I had returned to the room " that instant," 
 or I never_ should have met this worker. 
 
 Tuesday, August 4. — Alice and I started on mules 
 at 6 A.M. for the Col de Balm. Our guide was 
 so intelligent and pleasant. I found he was Pierre 
 Devouassoud, cousin to Joseph Devouassoud, 
 Fanny's favourite guide in 1869 and 1873. Because 
 Joseph was just sixty, his name was taken off the 
 list of guides ; so that though equally competent, 
 ' he lost many chances. I sent Fanny's little Memoir 
 in French, " Le beau Depart," and her " Invitation 
 Royale." 
 
 And now I was really going up the Col de Balm, 
 but not with my former strength when I always 
 walked. The air was deliciously cool and clear ; 
 we seemed to have everything perfect — sunshine, 
 blue above and beneath, the flowers in their smiles, 
 away, Mont Blanc in whiteness, the dark rocks 
 jutting into the Rhone valley with their pine fringe, 
 
BIRDS ON THE COL DE BALM. 209 
 
 and even the far distant Oberland range all visible. 
 Our guide said we could not have had a finer day. 
 But we were not on wings, and poor Alice could 
 not enjoy the jolting mule, the path was so torn up 
 by late heavy rains. When at last I stood on the 
 very summit, Fanny's lines came rushing over me, 
 " Sunshine and silence on the Col de Balm ! " etc. 
 
 " Not vain the same fond cry if first I stand 
 Upon the mountain of our God and long, 
 Even in the glory, and v?ith His nevf song 
 Upon my lips, 'Ca.&\.yoii should come and share 
 The bliss of heaven, imperfect still till all a.re there.'' 
 
 I do believe in ministries of nature ; so often the 
 passing of butterfly wings, the song of bird, the 
 happy hum in grass-land have soothed away some 
 bitter moment. And so, just now when /ler name 
 came with overpowering dearness to my lips, I saw 
 two birds, one chirping feebly at the foot of the 
 cross on the mound above us, the other on the very 
 height, singing such a joyous song, and by and by 
 the poor little chirper joined it, and both flew away 
 together singing. Thus may it be ! 
 
 We returned to Argenti^re, and after four hours' 
 rest went to Chamouni. Two priests^ were in 
 pur carriage ; one was intelligent and pleasant. 
 We had a tussle of course ; it is firm arguing when 
 St. Paul is on one side (Rom. v. i). We started at 
 6 A.M. the next day, in brilliant sunshine, and so 
 
210 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 saw all in crystal dew and morning brightness, 
 and returned from the Mer de Glace before lo A.M., 
 and just as we gained the hotel down came soaking 
 rain, through which numbers of tourists came in 
 drenched. Fires were lighted in both salons. 
 We waited till two o'clock, and then dismissed our 
 guide, and resolved to stay for the night. It 
 was so cold ; but then we were dry, and I was 
 sympathizing with some fellow - tra-vellers less 
 fortunate, when one of the ladies suddenly said, 
 " You are Miss Havergal 1 When I saw you talking 
 to my friends, and you left to make some enquiry 
 for us, I said to one, ' Do you know who you were 
 speaking to .'' I am convinced it is Miss H. 
 from her likeness to the portrait in the Memoir." 
 Of course I assured her how grievous that wood- 
 cut is, and was glad to show them a better likeness 
 of my sweet one. The next morning came, the 
 rain was gone, the clear shining come. So with 
 a real " thank God," we, rose early, and got back to 
 our very comfortable hotel, the Union. Again in 
 our descent the clear atmosphere revealed all the 
 beauty of Mont Blanc and the attendant Aiguilles. 
 Our farewell look at the Aiguille du Dru was 
 through pines — very towers of strength and beauty, 
 and a light cloud beneath seemed to be the 'only 
 wing that could ever scale its inaccessible heiights, 
 I was almost sorry to be told that one, and one 
 
TELESCOPING MONT BLANC. 
 
 person only, had £ver climbed there — that was 
 the guide who won an English bride in another 
 perilous ascent. Pierre told me they were "tres 
 brave," and are still together making grand ascents. 
 Their children, a boy and girl, will have good train- 
 ing. We saw the pretty villa built by the lady. 
 In the afternoon we went to look through the large 
 telescope towards Mont Blanc. I wished specially to 
 look at the Grands-Mulets, because dear Fanny was 
 there in 1873. It was very singular that we should 
 have chosen the instant when a lady and her guides 
 were very near it. The telescope had tracked her all 
 .day, and now we saw them all. Alice saw her fall 
 in the snow, then bravely on till we saw her step into 
 the same chilet which F. had rejoiced in gaining. 
 Then the telescope was turned to show us some of 
 the crevasses and marvellous blocks of ice, and also 
 the points of some of the Aiguilles. The gallery of 
 Lopp^'s pictures was open, and we quite enjoyed 
 seeing sunrises and sunsets else unattainable. 
 
 Friday, July 7. — As neither of us had strength 
 for the usual excursions, it seemed wiser to hasten 
 back to Chillon, where we had left our heavy 
 trunks. Again a fine day, and we had a comfort- 
 able carriage and pair to take us through the Tete 
 Noire to Martigny. Our farewell looks at Mont 
 Blanc and those shining heights just brought the 
 vivid impression to me, that the next time I saw 
 
212 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 them, it might be looking down ! We lunched at 
 the hotel half-way through the pass, and there I 
 remember F.'s meeting some young girls she had 
 previously sighted, and how eagerly they seized 
 upon her for more help. So she asked me to go 
 quietly on and wait till her work was done. Quite 
 an hour passed till I saw her springing along to 
 the boulders where I waited, and then, however 
 did we toil up to the Forclaz ! and then I saw the 
 rough "aub^rge" where we slept the night, just that 
 Fanny might again talk to the poor woman she 
 remembered three years before. And then our early 
 rapid walk down, down those endless zigzags to 
 the road for the great St. Bernard. Delicious 
 days ! 
 
 And now I was doing all this in a carriage ! At 
 Martigny we rested and dined at Hotel Mont 
 Blanc, partly because I wished another talk with a 
 special of mine, the diligence conductor — such a 
 nice fellow. 
 
 It was 9.30 P.M. as we reached our Hotel 
 dAngleterre at Chillon. Just as we entered it 
 down came the thunderstorm^ which we had 
 watched hurrying over, and the lightning on the 
 lake was very grand. And the next day, Saturday, 
 came drenching showers. In the intervals I 
 ventured by steamer to Vevey to find out Monsieur 
 Caille. It was pleasant to see F. R. H.'s books in 
 
FRENCH TRANSLATIONS FROM F. R. H. 213 
 
 his shop. Asking for one, he said, " If you will 
 come in this room you will see all Miss Havergal's 
 works, and I am just writing a letter to her sister 
 about the translation of the Memoir." I said, 
 " Your letter need not be finished, I am the sister ! " 
 He was very- pleased, and I saw the translations of 
 many of F.'s books I did not know of before, as 
 "J^sus et Ses Dous," "Une heure avec Jdsus," "Celui 
 a qui nous avous affaire," " Les choses pr^cieuses." 
 
 He asked me about reproducing the portrait of 
 F. in the French translation of the Memorials, but 
 I begged him not, as it gives a most unpleasant 
 idea to strangers of her sunny self! He told me 
 that Madame Duy was a most clever translator, 
 and it was by his wish she had applied to me 
 about it. I had previously asked Mademoiselle 
 Tabari6 to translate it, and believe she has far 
 more spiritual sympathies, but as she declined, and 
 is throwing all her mind into " Kept," I must trust 
 it will be fairly done. 
 
 Instead of pushing on, we took a good rest till 
 Monday. Sunday was very rainy, and though 
 dressed for church it was impossible to go. In the 
 afternoon I had a little Bible and music lesson 
 with the five children of the hotel ; it was pretty to 
 hear even the wee ones sing " Seulement pour Toi," 
 and repeat texts (on their fingers, my infant class 
 way). 
 
214 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAN^D. 
 
 August lo, Monday. — We left Chillon at 8.20 
 A.M. for Lausanne, Fribourg, Berne, down Lake 
 Thun to Interlachen, Lauterbrunnen, and up to 
 Pension Wehgen. I arranged to take M. Far- 
 rington with us, that she might see some of her 
 dear Miss Fanny's favourite haunts. She has been 
 attending a painfully interesting case in the neigh- 
 bourhood. We stopped at Fribourg to hear the 
 organ that F. so well describes in " Swiss Letters." 
 We were half an hour too soon ; a large school 
 of country children came in, and a great many 
 strangers. It was painful to see the irreverent way 
 in which some knelt, and while rapidly moving 
 their lips, stared in our faces. Some again were 
 devout. I had secured a programme, the only one, 
 and so handed it to others. Some English ladies 
 were in the next row before us, and with the 
 programme I handed some of F.'s leaflets and her 
 " Seulement pour Toi." Afterwards they followed 
 us out of the cathedral, and were certain it was 
 M. V. G. H., and gave such an outpour of all the 
 blessing the Memoir and F. R. H.'s books had 
 been to them. One of the ladies had seen her at 
 Mildmay, and said she was so impressed with her 
 bright sunny face. I was afterwards accosted by a 
 young lady saying, " I must speak to you, Miss 
 Havergal; could you spare me one of those leaflets?" 
 And then she tearfully told me how she longed for 
 
THE GREAT ORGAN AT FRJBOURG. 215 
 
 F. R. H.'s full trust. It was my privilege to en- 
 courage her with the thought that God's promises 
 were as rich and as sure for her as for R, and told 
 her the verse that so often comforts me : " God 
 is able to make all grace abound towards you'' 
 (2 Cor. XX. 8). And then that Jesus was the same, 
 the very same for her. 
 
 But to- go back to the organ ; yes, it was thrilKng 
 and singular in effect. A fugue of Bach's, and 
 then that delicious minuet in Handel's "Sampson" 
 was succeeded by " The Invocation." In this the 
 "vox humana" seems to accompany in most human 
 tones. I never heard anything that so gave me 
 the idea of ceaseless, pitying intercession, pleading 
 with depth of love that would not be denied. Ah ! 
 one hardly fathoms that Jesus is ever living, is ever 
 interceding. The "Tempest" was very curious, 
 but "not quite so delusive as at Lucerne, where I 
 involuntarily said, " It really is raining ! " and we 
 both preferred the distant chords and voices singing 
 a hymn tune after the lightning and thunder. But 
 both the organ and organist at Fribourg seemed 
 infinitely superior to those at Lucerne. 
 
 By 3.20 we were again en route for Berne. My 
 vis-d-vis was a Spanish gentleman from Malaga, 
 who gave me much interesting information gene- 
 rally, and specially about Pastor Fliedner's evan- 
 gelical work in Madrid. He was taking his boy to 
 
2i6 JOURNAL OF A VISIT IV SWITZERLAND. 
 
 school in Germany, who, though only ten years old, 
 could speak English and French fluently. 
 
 Approaching Berne I thought I must treat our- 
 selves to the Bernerhof, so that from the roof we 
 might hope to see a repetition of Fanny's first 
 sunrise on snow mountains. The evening was 
 stormy, but we went down the long arcades to the 
 Bear Garden. 
 
 August II. — Awake before dawn, and with M. 
 Farrington watched all the snow peaks flushing 
 into rose, and thoughts of that daybreak came back 
 to us, when we watched for her, all shadows fleeing 
 away. Afterwards Alice joined us on that most 
 enjoyable Bernerhof roof. 
 
 Berne is a bright clean city, and the older part 
 so quaint and strange. We left in sunshine, but 
 immediately clouds and rain pursued us, and we 
 could only see the dim outlines of the Niessen and 
 Beatenberg from the' Lake of- Thun. Just as we 
 landed it was fair, and on reaching Interlachen we 
 proceeded in an open carriage to Lauterbrunnen. I 
 told them how in 1876 F. and I with our knap- 
 sacks rushed on, and how swiftly she steered me to 
 a little pension at Gsteigwyler. And then we 
 passed the steep path to Eisenfluh, from whence 
 Helga painted her marvellous " Moonlight on the 
 Jungfrau," and where F. and I had quite an' adven- 
 ture in the kind widow's little chalet. It is one of 
 
THE WIDOW LAUENER. 217 
 
 the grandest drives beneath the bastion rocks of the 
 Hunnenfluh, and then to get into real snow peeps, 
 and be actually near the long far-viewed Jungfrau ; 
 and the Stauback was in full force from the heavy 
 rain. At the'Stauback Hotel we watched a merry 
 party of fourteen school girls mounting on horses 
 for the Wengern Alps and Grindelvald. But life 
 and death strangely flash together. Just before 
 reaching Lauterbrunnen, Alice noticed several men 
 and women down by the side of the torrent, and 
 now we were told they had just discovered the bodies 
 of a young man and woman who had accidentally 
 fallen in two nights before, and were drowned. 
 
 August 12. — M. Farrington returned to Chillon, - 
 and Alice and I proceeded up the steep zigzags 
 for Perision Wengen. Enquiring of my mule-driver 
 for the good old widow Lauener, I thought he said 
 she was dead, and I began rejoicing for her, know- 
 ing how she longed even in 1876 for her departure. 
 So I was exceedingly astonished, when reaching 
 the door of her chalet, to see her dear old face 
 smiling a welcome ; and the guide told me we must 
 dismount, and not proceed to Pension Wengen as 
 I had arranged, as it was quite full ; so I dismissed 
 our porters. Alice meanwhile went in to survey 
 our chS,Iet quarters, and returned with, " Auntie, two 
 ladies have put flowers and fruit for you, and Aunt 
 Fanny's photograph ; guess who they are ? " 
 
2i8 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Instantly I guessed M. Fay, though I had not 
 heard of or from her for three months ; and so it 
 was ! Our devoted Irish friend of 1856 ! turned up 
 in Switzerland, and her ministering angel. Miss jVI. 
 L. W. Jackson. And it was a pleasant surprise to 
 be cared for in a strange land. And that dear 
 mother Lauener, whom I had been picturing in the 
 spirit-land, came feeling my feet, and brought her 
 own wonderfully warm slippers ; and oh, how she 
 spoke of " Fraulein Fannie, my dear, my beloved 
 one 1 " The rain fell in torrents just as we were 
 safely housed, making us again thankful for another 
 " instant " of God's care over us. We were in rather 
 stuffy quarters, so we were glad to move to the 
 Pension Alpenrose, kept by a daughter of Madame 
 Lauener, a pine -wood habitation, so clean, with 
 most comfortable beds and pillows. The view 
 from our windows much the same as at Pension 
 Wengen, the Jungfrau and its dove-winged Silver- 
 horn, the Breithorn, and other real snow peaks ; 
 while behind us were the singularly varied juttings 
 of the Lanberhorn and Mannlichen. The walks in 
 all directions reveal endless varieties of Swiss land- 
 scape. The society there was extremely agreeable, 
 and' we enjoyed (what is rarely found) family 
 worship every evening. In one salon, Pastor 
 P'iesch, from Paris, gave a French culte, while in 
 the other saloon a German pastor assembled his 
 
JUDGE NIEBUHR AND WIFE. 2ig 
 
 countrymen. It was so pleasant, when our French 
 cantiques were over, to hear the slower chords of 
 the German chorales from the next room. Soon 
 after our evening meal was the time chosen, and 
 afterwards nearly all united in amusing innocent 
 games. 
 
 It is so seldom that any one cares the least about 
 wy soul, that I was extremely grateful when the 
 good Judge Niebuhr invited me to join an English 
 reading at J P.M. on Sunday. He had looked so 
 wise and grave, we were rather terrified at him, 
 while his wife had charmed every one with her 
 sweetness, and withal she was an invalid. I have 
 seldom seen such a lovable creature, and did not 
 wonder at the grave man's tenderness for his " little 
 one." The book he read from was by Alexander 
 Jukes, on "The New Man and the Eternal Life." 
 It is full of deep teaching, which made one feel 
 far behind, and yet it braced the desire to attain 
 also such clear and realized perception of the 
 " Verilys of Jesus Christ." It was pleasant to find 
 dear F.'s name and books well known, and that 
 her Memoir also had been read. Several travellers 
 called on me, just because of my name. Two from 
 Dresden gave me much interesting information 
 regarding the Luisenstift there, where education on 
 the highest Christian basis is given to the aristo- 
 cratic families, with strict discipline, and very 
 
220 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 simple fare, such as would rather astonish our 
 English girls. And at Dresden dear F.'s name 
 and teaching are also known. The ■ directress 
 spoke English fluently, while the English teacher, 
 Miss B., turned out to be niece of our clergyman 
 at Leamington. Fanny's life seems to show to 
 many the practical possibilities of holiness. While 
 at the Pension Alpenrose, my friend Miss Jackson 
 received a letter from that most fragrant friend, Miss 
 Nugent, saying, " Every Swiss view that precious 
 Fanny saw has a deep sacredness for me, and a 
 glory touch." Yes, truly it was so. 
 
 At the Pension Wengen, Lauener told me he 
 never should forget his first sight of F. R. H. in 
 her straw hat, and in all the bloom of health and 
 vivacity. He took me into his bureau, and there 
 was F.'s photograph side by side with her guide 
 Hans (Lauener's brother). Both are now resting, 
 on the height of heights. 
 
 Saturday, July i6. — An expedition to the 
 Wengern Alp-, the Schideck, and the Lauberhorn. 
 Alice accompanied Miss J. and M. F. I had not 
 strength for it, a.nd so took charge of the blind 
 lady, whose singular desire to see Switzerland was 
 gratified by this same ministering M. L. W. J. 
 Truly she is a valiant woman to steer two invalids 
 for fourteen months amid all the difficulties of 
 Swiss railways and roads. About two o'clock I 
 
A SUNDAY AT ALPENROSE. 
 
 saw a commotion in the porch of the pension, 
 and Lauener waving tablecloths as he discovered 
 through a telescope our travellers had arrived on 
 the heights. I knew it all, and again that pano- 
 rama of snow peak and glacier passed before me, 
 and dear Fanny's joyous song as she stood there. 
 The good mere Lauener said the sweetest things 
 about F. ; that " now her robp was whiter than snow, 
 her song changed to the new anthem ; yes, she was 
 singing always, always now ; that the Lord Christ 
 could not do without her harp and her voice in 
 His choir.'' She was so delighted with the trans- 
 lation of F.'s "Kept" in German (by Fraulein 
 Mousterburg, published by Spittler of Bale). 
 What seemed to touch every one was the fact of 
 her singing when dying, and the joy with which 
 she welcomed the news that she could not recover. 
 After more than a fortnight's stay at Alpenrose, 
 we left by Dr. Cazalis' advice, to take a second 
 course of baths at Aix. Sunday was our last day. 
 The morning service in the salon was well 
 attended. I i'"elt I should never again assemble 
 with them on earth, and our intercourse had been so 
 pleasant, and so many histories and life-stories had 
 been told me by one and another, that I felt quite 
 attached to these foreign friends. There sat good 
 Pastor Fiesch and his pleasant wife ; the young 
 doctor (a brilliant musician) at the piano ; ladies 
 
222 JOURNAL of: a visit to SWITZERLAND. 
 
 from Geneva — one in black who had lost her hus- 
 band, son, and daughter ; their miniatures are most 
 lovely. Her voice was marvellously flexible and 
 powerful ; indeed, I was struck with this in all 
 the foreign singers. Then there was Alice's special 
 friend Helena, whose beautiful young sister had 
 married the good Count Bernstorff. He only saw 
 her once in Berlin — her first re-union — an introduc- 
 tion sought — all followed en suite. Then there was 
 her aunt, from whom we received many kind 
 attentions, and her brother. Then an English 
 friend. Miss Hall, who knew Ceci's friends. A 
 grave German pastor who leads a mission itinerat- 
 ing life, and his most polite little boy, who knew 
 how to take his hat off ! Then there was a nice 
 young lady and her fiaiici from Zurich. Also, a 
 Mademoiselle Pestalozzi — related to the well-known 
 school improver. And above all, there was Judge 
 Niebuhr, and that most gentle wife. 
 
 My headache was so bad, I had to keep upstairs 
 most of the day ; but that gave me a better oppor- 
 tunity for prayer, with two or three in my room. 
 It was a very rainy Sunday, and we could not tell 
 till we awoke on Monday if it was possible to travel. 
 But again, the sunshine was our index to go for- 
 ward ; and so we left Wengen soon after 6 A.M. 
 I placed cards of adieu and little souvenirs of 
 books on every plate for our friends when they came 
 
THE BRuNJG PASS. 223 
 
 down to dejeuner. And their kindly response gave 
 me much pleasure, and their names will not easily 
 be forgotten. 
 
 Madame Fenz and the good domestiques gave 
 us fervent farewells, especially one Emilie, whose 
 pleasant "a votre service, madame," was quite 
 winning. I was obliged to submit to the ignominy 
 of a chaise d porteur ! down to Lauterbrunnen. I 
 who walked up and down and to Miirren, eight or 
 nine hours at a time, easily in 1876! By post 
 diligence to Interlachen to see the Giesbach Falls, 
 and slept at Brienz. Off early, Tuesday, August i, 
 for the Brunig Pass to Lucerne. It was a splendid 
 day, and we were exceptionally comfortable in a 
 carriage and pair, a stranger who sat on the box 
 sharing the expense. 
 
 The Brunig Pass ! Fanny describes it, and so I 
 will not attempt to do so, but earnestly commend 
 it to all who can pass by that glorious scene of 
 height and depths — precipices, pines, and limes, and 
 all mountain and forest beauty mingled endlessly. 
 The carriage brought us to Alpnach, one of the 
 arms of Lake Lucerne, where the steamer was 
 waiting. It would be better to do Lucerne before 
 the Bernese Oberland, which seems to dwarf these 
 mountains. _ We found the Schwan Hotel most 
 comfortable and moderate. At 6.30 P.M. we went 
 to hear the great organ, which is far better than the 
 
224 JOURNAL OF A- VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 organist, and there was nothing that thrilled you as 
 at Fribourg. 
 
 Wednesday, August 2. — The day brightened, 
 and we thoroughly enjoyed the succession of sur- 
 prises as we steamed into the windings of the lake 
 down to Fluellen. 
 
 Thursday, August 3. — By rail through Berne to 
 Geneva and Lausanne. Slept at Hotel Gibbon. 
 In the morning, I was pleased to find F. R. H.'s 
 books in a shop, and was told there was a good 
 demand for them. Instead of taking the train all 
 the way to Aix, I thought it pleasanter to go down 
 the lake to Geneva and change there. Again we 
 had the bluest blue on that lovely lake. Geneva 
 was all en fete and gay with flags, and intensely 
 hot ; but we had not long to wait, and Ahce 
 secured plenty of greengages for our journey. 
 Certainly the fruit is abundant, and at Aix also the 
 market is well supplied. Peaches in great quan- 
 tities, six for 2d. Enormous and juicy pears for 
 id. or i|d. each. At our table d^hdte fruit is plenti- 
 fully supplied both at the half-past ten breakfast 
 and the 6 P.M. dinner. It was a little disappointing 
 to have to return to Aix, but as our doctor begged 
 us to do so, it seemed right, and the line "Any- 
 where with Jesus " chimed ever and anon. We 
 arrived at Aix on Friday, August 4, and took 
 rooms at the Hotel d'Angleterre. 
 
A MISERABLE VILLAGE. 225 
 
 August 8. — Feeling a little better, it was pleasant 
 to begiii again some walks and talks with my 
 French tracts, leaflets, and New Testaments. 
 
 New milk and bread was brought to me by 6 A.M , 
 and then the shadow of the great hills was a protec- 
 tion from the heat of the sun during the early part 
 of my walks. Then the cool morning air, the dew 
 on the flowers, and the utter quiet, were most 
 delightful. My first visit was to the village of 
 Challes by an upward lane, with houses of the 
 most wretched and filthy aspect, and the inevitable 
 dunghills close to the doors. The state of litter and 
 filth is indescribable, and the inner apartments, 
 with few exceptions, were untidy and miserable. 
 No flower - border, no kitchen garden, no trim 
 shelves with plates and glasses, no arm-chair for 
 the father, only the barest forms or stools. It seems 
 hopeless to attempt anything, but the sure seed of 
 God's word can root even here. 
 
 I had made one friend out of this village — 
 
 Marie, a little maiden who used to drive her 
 
 mother's cows at 4 A.M. to some high pastures near 
 
 our hotel. We had chatted often, and Marie had 
 
 learnt several verses for me in the Testament I 
 
 gave her, and while I sat under the chestnut trees 
 
 Marie would repeat them. She begged me to go 
 
 and see her home. Some women were washing at 
 
 the village pump, so I enquired from them where 
 P 
 
226 JOURNAL OF A VI^IT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Marie lived. Tiiey use neither tubs nor hot water 
 —every jvoman brings a plank, which she fixes into 
 the wide trough of water flowing from the pipe. 
 On this wood the articles are beaten, rolled, and 
 screwed in a most noisy way. How they come 
 clean I can't understand. When I came up, all the 
 washing ceased, and a few kind words were well 
 received ; then other women came out, and I had a 
 good opportunity of speaking of Jesus, the Way, the 
 Truth, the Lif£, and of the living water He offered, 
 and of the cleansing no soap and water could ever 
 effect, ending with that precious promise, i John 
 i. 7. 
 
 Then I found my little friend Marie Duisit. 
 Her mother welcomed me, but I never saw such a 
 yard of litter and filth. Plenty of hay, two cows, 
 pigs and chickens. The house had been two hundred 
 years in their family, as the blackened stone testi- 
 fied ; but to sit down inside was simply impossible; 
 and though the room was large, it was very dark. 
 So we sat on logs, and two or three neighbours 
 came near while I began to read from a Testament, 
 but handed it to Marie, thinking the mother would 
 be gratified, and then I could ask Marie to read the 
 same again. Saying good-bye, one of the women 
 asked me for tracts. I don't know why, but I said, 
 " Oh, I should like to come to" your house, may I ? " 
 It was curious that out of two dozen women, I was 
 
A FRENCH BEDROOM. 227 
 
 led to ask this of the only one who had a sick 
 daughter. The woman steered me past rather 
 unsafe treadings in that dunghill maze (I tried to 
 forget Dr. Cazahs and what he would say), and 
 went into her house, which was of a more tidy 
 appearance than the last. She opened the door 
 into the bedroom, darkened with the clothes of the 
 whole family hanging thickly all round the walls ; 
 and as the four-post bed hangings were of endless 
 garments, I could not at first see that there were 
 three beds, and on one a pale-faced girl, Jeannette 
 Noirey. 
 
 Though extremely astonished (for there are no 
 lady or district visitors in France), she was pleasant 
 and chatty, and soon told me all her sad history. 
 Both knees were swollen and powerless from rheu- 
 matic stiffness, and for three years she had been 
 laid up, with only a rare limping on two crutches 
 into the outer world. It was nice to kneel down 
 and tell Jesus for her all her need, and then I asked 
 her to repeat with me a few simple words to Jesus. 
 Then I sang (a very free translation !) Fanny's 
 hymn, " I am trusting Thee, Lord Jesus." 
 
 I was glad I had some peaches to give her, and 
 Mrs. Grimke's pretty text cards. Jeannette en- 
 treated me to come again, and I did so several 
 times, and gave her knitting materials ; and to my 
 joy she accepted a French Bible as my farewell 
 
228 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 gift. Leaving Jeannette, I went up the village, 
 leaving tracts at or under every door, till my bag 
 was empty. The next morning I took a longer 
 walk, over a bridge, with mountains on either side. 
 I thought I saw a short cut through a vineyard, and 
 so took it, spying some houses in the distance. 
 The path in the vineyard came to an end ; just then 
 a woman weeding the vines appeared, and she 
 directed me up a stony bit, which led again into the 
 road. She came with me a little way, and then 
 pointing to some large iron gates said, " My old 
 mother lives there." I certainly should not have 
 ventured through what seemed a private drive ; it 
 led to an ancient stone farm-house, with massive 
 doors, and all the appearance of warlike defence, 
 now in utter untidiness. Jessamine and Virginian 
 creepers were twining long wreaths round the_ old 
 windows and doorway. Beds were airing as usual, 
 either thrown half-way out of the window or on the 
 farm blocks. A nice old woman bade me sit down. 
 It was all news to her that there was "nothing, 
 nothing to pay," no merit of. ours wanted when 
 Jesus had paid all our debt. Luke vii. was read. 
 Then she told me to go in the garden. Evidently 
 once dainty feet had trod the lawns and long 
 terraces with thickly trtllised vines. The view was 
 extensive ; below, the church and village of St. 
 Jeoire (that seemed a map for my next day's work) ; 
 
AX EARL V MORNING TALK. 229 
 
 far away, the Dent du Nivoli and the Grande 
 Chartreuse. I sat down and roughly sketched the 
 outline. The old woman brought me some milk, 
 and told me that Mademoiselle who owned this 
 farm was out, and that herself and her sons and 
 daughters also lived here. I enquired about this 
 Mdlle., and left word that the English lady was 
 much obliged for seeing the garden, and that I 
 hoped for the pleasure of seeing her next time. 
 The next and the next time came, but Mdlle. was 
 always engaged, so I could only leave two or three 
 books. But though Mdlle.'s door was shut, another 
 wider one opened in the large old courtyard, where 
 the springing water coming through a very ancient 
 stone structure, with a wide circular trough, was a 
 fro bono washing resort. 
 
 I reached it before seven one morning, at the very 
 "instant" needful for a talk. Some eight or nine 
 women had just finished'their breakfast, seated on 
 clumps of wood and pine planks, and smilingly 
 asked me to rest myself. It is so easy to ask a 
 few kind questions, and to admire their beautiful 
 country and the vines ; and then the running water, 
 so free, so cleansing, suggests lessons of life. I 
 asked leave to read some of the Lord Jesus' own 
 words, first telling them I was going to shut^ my 
 eyes and ask the Holy Spirit to teach us, and 
 would they not do the same? This morning the 
 
2;,o JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 words came so easily, for had I not asked my King 
 to open my lips for Him ? But as I met the eyes 
 of those quiet listeners, a rushing tenderness for 
 their precious souls to find this Saviour now came 
 over me. They saw my tears for them, and were 
 deeply moved. "Ah! the poor lady does care 
 for us." 
 
 Most willingly did they all kneel down with me 
 on the pine planks. Afterwards I spoke to those 
 that seemed impressed, and a week after found out 
 one or two in their own homes. 
 
 After this happy time, I went on to a few houses, 
 but no one was at home. I had just one book left, 
 the pretty French book for children called "Le beau 
 Depart de F. R. Havergal," giving the account of hef 
 bright going home. I pressed on and came to a 
 large schoolhouse ; all was silent, but looking up I 
 saw a little girl's face at an upper window. Wish- 
 ing to get at her, I enquired " where the road led 
 to ? " whereupon she ran downstairs and invited me 
 into the empty schoolroom. Her father was the 
 teacher, but it was a holiday. Taking out my little 
 book, I told her it was about my own dear sister, 
 and as her -name was Frangoise to, she looked 
 interested. This led on to the story of " My own 
 text," and I found the words in my French Testa- 
 ment, and asked Frangoise to read them and to 
 the end of the chapter. She was a most intelligent 
 
A DEMI-LUNE OF BOYS. 231 
 
 child ; it was only a passing talk ; but as she 
 repeated over and over for me two 6r three 
 passages of the Word that will never pass away, I 
 'thanked God that I saw her little head at the 
 window the " instant " of my passing by. 
 
 Attgust 16. — To the village of Challes again. 
 Saw Marie and Jeannette. Passed by the boys' 
 school, where several were assembling. I knew it 
 was useless to give my books there, and so went on, 
 praying that some might be disposed to follow me. 
 Soon one and another came round me while I was 
 speaking to some women and giving tracts. One 
 woman said, " This is a good lady ; I have seen her 
 before, and she only tells about Jesus Christ." The 
 women cleared off, and about thirty or forty boys 
 gathered. I sat against a wall and asked them to 
 make a demi-lune around. The idea of a half-moon 
 took, and soon I had a three-deep circle. I spoke of 
 the Lord Jesus as looking down then, loving them, 
 calling them, telling them He was the way to the 
 bright city up in the blue sky above us, and how He 
 wanted little soldiers ; but the great devil wanted 
 them too ; and how the good Captain had fought 
 the devil for us and got the victory, and so the way 
 was quite clear to come over to Jesus Christ's side. 
 And the first thing the Captain did was to wash 
 His little soldiers white in the blood He shed long 
 ago when He got the victory. And then I got two 
 
232 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 texts learnt in chorus, and then came my bag of 
 books, and Mr. Spier's French leaflets were all 
 eagerly caught by the little fellows and carefully 
 put in their book satchels. All this just in the 
 . very " instant " before the school bell rang. Later 
 or earlier I should have lost this delightful seed- 
 sowing. Often I met people going to market who 
 gladly took books. Perpetually did my prayer for 
 guidance get answered, some awkward dirty lane 
 leading to some lonely house where God's message 
 was wanted. One poor lame creature was actually 
 with her naked feet sitting close to a dunghill, her 
 yellow sickly face telling its tale of suffering. My 
 heart seemed drawn to her, and even the sympathy 
 of my poor words seemed a little cheer. I should 
 not write all this, but I do want to encourage 
 travellers abroad to go out into the holes and 
 corners around. And it is so sweet to keep asking 
 the Master to direct, and all comes so much easier 
 when we do so. I often got catechized as to our 
 Protestant religion, and always good-temperedly 
 gave them an outline. Many were astonished at 
 our belief in Father, Son, and Spirit, and that we 
 were baptized. I never shrank from plainly show- 
 ing them the truths of vital difference to their 
 errors. It is well to learn off such verses as prove 
 Christ is the only Mediator and Intercessor, that 
 He never told us to ask in the name of Mary. 
 
THE VALUE OF A LITURGY. 233 
 
 (John xiv. 6, 13, 14.) That He said, "It is finished," 
 so we have " nothing to pay." Also, I found our 
 creed in French very useful to repeat. It is well 
 always to speak kindly of the Virgin Mary — that 
 she is happy in heaven because she trusted in God 
 her Saviour ; that she would not have called Jesus 
 her. Saviour if she had no sins to be saved from. 
 So, being a sinner, I can't trust in her, that I hope 
 to see her in heaven by and by, but that she never 
 did do anything for me, and that Jesus did, and so 
 all the glory is His, and His only. 
 
 Sunday, August 20. — On two previous Sundays 
 Alice and I had early church in some shady corner, 
 as no service of any kind was going on ; a-nd 
 certainly we Church of England people can hold 
 communion better by having a Liturgy, and value 
 Psalms and Lessons, which seems a sweet link when 
 in a strange and godless land. But this Sunday I 
 told Alice we would have church in the evening. 
 The village of St. Jeoire was to be my Sunday 
 service. I was off at 6.30 A.M. — my way a very 
 straight road, but with glorious mountains always 
 in sight. I had never been there — a long straight 
 village, houses on either side. I saw the first door 
 open, and an old woman, who looked friendly, so I 
 asked to rest, and told her where I had walked 
 from, and why I came. She could not read at all, 
 but gladly listened and" learnt off two texts, a 
 
234 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 neighbour joining. Then she said, '' Don't you go 
 to the next door, but to the next after ; they are 
 very pious there." It was the post-ofificer's home, 
 and four or five charming maidens were just ready 
 for mass. The mother looked at my books, and 
 was the first and only one who said she did not 
 care for them. I made no way there at all. The 
 next door was the village shop, all open, and people 
 buying. The woman was superior, asked me to sit 
 down, and soon guessing I was a Protestant, cate- 
 chized me well on doctrine and practice. God's 
 written Word is the best sword. She accepted two 
 or three books, and I left. The street seemed 
 turning out as the bell for mass was tolling, so I 
 thought it wiser to turn aside up a lane and let the 
 people pass on. Such neat-looking girls, how I 
 yearned over them ! Well, they would all find a 
 F. R. H. leaflet or portion or text card under their 
 doors on return ! Up the lane, large stone farm- 
 houses, and there I left tracts ; then guided, I 
 came to a nest of houses, more cleanly ; and of 
 the few not at mass was one of my friends at the 
 old fountain. She was so glad to see me, and in a 
 moment gave me some milk from the pail just 
 brought in. I had a long rest there, and then we 
 asked a few to join us in the farmyard, men, boys, 
 and women, and I had a good time. Then I went 
 to other houses, returning to St. Jeoire down that 
 
THE WORD HEARD GLADL Y. 235 
 
 lovely lane. I put leaflets here and there, knowing 
 quite a stream of people would be returning from 
 mass from far-off villages. Passing the door I was 
 told not to go in, I thought I would, and found 
 almost the best opening of all. The Word was 
 heard gladly, and my last New Testament received, 
 and also I directed some leaflets for the woman's 
 daughter in Paris. Looking in again on the old 
 woman I first visited, I found her on her knees ; 
 she had not forgotten the prayer I had taught her, 
 or the promise. I arranged with a girl to go and 
 read to her, who was singularly open and most 
 anxious to hear further. I had met her in the 
 week, and her very sweet little sister Georgine, 
 minding their cows one evening, and told them I 
 was so sorry I had no leaflets. The next evening 
 we went that way again, and far away they saw us, 
 and scampered to meet us — three or four such dear 
 children. We noticed their very pretty curtsey, 
 so different to the English bob. Certainly the very 
 poorest have the politesse we greatly lack. I had 
 told Marie I would come and see her at St. Jeoire on 
 Sunday morning, and so she had posted her sisters 
 alongtheroad to conduct m.e. Marie was preparing to 
 be a schoolmistress two years before, when she was 
 seized with typhoid fever, and was most dangerously 
 ill, and she was still delicate. I am sure there had 
 been the work of grace, with such real love for Jesus, 
 
235 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. ■ 
 
 and apparently trust, and when speaking of God's 
 Spirit Marie said, " I did receive the Holy Ghost 
 when I was confirmed." Her face was so peaceful, 
 and somehow I felt that secret intimate fellowship 
 of spirit with her when kneeling before the Lord. 
 I visited her again. We had frank discussion on 
 our points of difference ; but Marie spoke very 
 differently to many, and I believe to her Jesus 
 Christ was first and last. She accepted all the 
 books I could find, and gave me her address. She 
 was so eager for books, and promised to give all 
 she could spare in the village. So this is a future 
 opening for posting books and leaflets. 
 
 As I rapidly returned to the hotel for eleven 
 o'clock breakfast, I could not but rejoice in the 
 strength given me for that early morning's work, and 
 commended each and all to the God of all grace, 
 that His Word might not return unto Him void. 
 
 I could fill pages with interesting remembrances 
 of the many I talked with at, our table d'hdte. It 
 always answers to be polite and easy, and a little 
 sympathy often unlocked many a confidence, and 
 led the way to speak of Jesus, my King, Then it 
 was a little we.dge to offer a parting souvenir of 
 F. R. H.'s "Royal Invitation" in French. One young 
 priest looked fearfully ill ; his chiselled features and 
 superior bearing were attractive. Another young 
 priest and two most gentlemanlv youths were with 
 
A COURTEOUS PRIEST. 237 
 
 him. They did not mix with the others, and I never 
 got beyond a word or two at table, till one day, when 
 I had not been well enougli to appear, and was sitting 
 in the garden, they all passed (bowing of course) ; 
 but the priest stopped, and most courteously en- 
 quired for my health. And then I said, " Now let 
 me ask how you are .■" I have not-quite courage to 
 talk at table to those far off, but I have often 
 sympathized for your ill-health." Yes, he was ill ; 
 it- was the will of God. He had travelled much — 
 twice to the Holy Land, Egypt, etc. Then again 
 he earnestly hoped my health would improve. I 
 said, " It may for a little time, but I know, Mons. 
 L'Abbd, my days cannot be long, nor do I wish 
 them to be ; to depart and bp with Christ is far 
 better. It is so glorious to have that blessfed hope." 
 He said, " Very true ; but might it not be a little 
 selfish to wish to depart, so long as we could serve 
 God or be of use, as I see you are, to your niece, 
 and as I am trying to be to my dear nephews here." 
 This led to further pleasant talk. One day when 
 I went in the salon I found him with F. R. H.'s 
 books (which I always put on the table), and the 
 younger priest said he knew a little" English, and 
 had been trying to read the Memoir. They had 
 both read the few proof pages of Madame Duy's 
 translation. On leaving Challes both priests ac- 
 cepted F. R. H.'s " Royal Invitation "and the smaller 
 
238 JOUHNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 books from Caille's. Another well-to-do couple 
 (my neighbours at table) grew from unreachable 
 coldness to most warm and friendly intercourse, 
 ending in the lady's freely talking to me, and coming 
 to my room for prayer. She told me she had a pious 
 mother who was praying and weeping for her ; but 
 for herself this world was enough. It was singular 
 how she seemed to prize F.'s books. Another, a 
 young mother, was in deep mourning for her only 
 child, and alas ! her one thought was, " God is so cruel, 
 so hard ; He should not have given her to me only 
 to take away ! " It is most difficult to talk wisely ; 
 the clue in such cases is the perfect felicity and 
 happiness of the little ones in heaven, and let us 
 take heed to get there too. I do believe in nurseries 
 in heaven, and that every tiny vessel will perfectly 
 reflect the Savioui-'s likeness. And I could envy 
 them in om thing — they never sinned and grieved 
 the Saviour. "Forgiven much" may bring the 
 "much love;" but shall we ever forget wounding 
 and grieving Jesus \ 
 
 I must not forget an incident when returning 
 from a visit to our doctor. It is about ten miles by 
 rail from Aix to Chamb^ry. The train was very 
 full, and at the last moment we were put in a first 
 class. A pleasant lady looked extremely wearied 
 and dusted, and she told me that through mistake 
 at that ever-provoking Dijon they had been pushed 
 
A TRAVELLER TO FLORENCE. 239 
 
 into a slow train, and so had been twelve hours longer 
 en route — forty-eight hours without rest — and her 
 husband, an Italian, was returning from England 
 quite ill. She had lived thirty years in Italy, and 
 as Florence is extremely hot in the summer, they 
 had tried our English temperature, but the constant 
 rain and damp had only increased his illness. Just 
 a word or two about the " right way and the Guide 
 who never takes us a wrong turn " was pleasantly 
 received. I had none of F.'s leaflets, but offered 
 another. The lady opened her travelling hand- 
 bag, saying, " That is the book that daily teaches 
 me." "Hie " Memorials of F .R. H. " ! I could not 
 help saying, " My darling sister ! " " Is it possible } 
 What a privilege to meet you ! I do thank you 
 for telling me." Then she whispered to me that 
 her lady companion opposite was a Socinian. 
 Would I give any detail about F. that would be 
 useful to her? Rapidly I told of F.'s rejoicing in 
 Christ as her King ; that her joy in life was the 
 clear, deep, conscious need of a divine atonement ; 
 that it needed the blood of God's own Son to atone 
 for sin against God, and the infinite ransom was 
 secured by the precious blood. I told of F.'s joyful 
 security; that her dying passport was the blood 
 (i John i. 7) ; how she whispered, "Bring my own 
 text," and said, " Jesus covers all." And then that 
 marvellous meeting with her King ! The glad 
 
240 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 welcome in face and eye and failing speech — to me 
 more like the soft cooing of a dove. " Oh, He is 
 come — come ! My King, you are come ! " And 
 then her song to Him — we only caught the first 
 note — "He!" No more for us; but with Him 
 she sings for evermore and evermore. The train 
 stopped at Chamb^ry. Madame Martini handed 
 me her card, and I promised to post some of F.'s 
 books. 
 
 By Dr. Cazalis' advice we again returned 
 to Aix, that Alice might try another course of 
 baths. It was difficult to get rooms. We heard of 
 visitors even sleeping in the omnibus 1 and of many 
 going to Geneva, failing accommodation. We were 
 thankful to get rooms at the Maison Chabert, near 
 the baths. It was lively at our tadle d'hote, forty- 
 five filling two tables. We found our places set 
 near some very pleasant ladies. Madame Teste- 
 noire, with a most benevolent smile, and Madame 
 Fontaine de Bonnerive, with her daughter Magda- 
 leine, was a perfect fountain of vivacity. I never 
 listened to such sparkling descriptions of places and 
 things. Also her lively actions — fingers, hands, 
 arms in endless motion emphasizing her words. 
 She was certainly clever, and one evening she most 
 bravely parried the infidel ideas of her next neigh- 
 bour. Poor man, how I did, pity him ! gambling 
 every night and day. Once I sat next him, and he 
 
A MOTHERLESS GAMBLER. 241 
 
 asked if I never took wine. I told liim wliy — that 
 I denied myself for the benefit of a large class of 
 youths. This led on to his saying he believed only 
 in a Deity. I found our conversation was attract- 
 ing notice, but words seemed given me of what I 
 found Jesus to be to me. I wrote him a letter 
 before leaving, and gave him F.'s " Royal Invita- 
 tion " in French. 
 
 A new arrival, a very delicate young man of most 
 distingue appearance, sat in silence, because the stiff 
 old militaire from Paris in the next chair did not bow 
 or speak to him. So we drifted into smiles and bows 
 and a few words. I said to Alice, " I believe he is 
 of the best family of any." Poor fellow, how he 
 gambled ; and then he disappeared for three days, 
 being too ill to get up. It stirred my compassion. 
 Who cared for his soul ? His mother was dead, 
 and so no loving words from her could reach him. 
 It was not till the last night or two I had an oppor- 
 tunity. After dinner, all stood about in the ancient 
 courtyard chatting, and so in the twilight I got 
 courage for a few words. He took it so gratefully. 
 " Ah, madame, I see you pray that sinners may be 
 converted." So that was the wedge that helped 
 me to write him a farewell letter, with a Testament 
 and F.'s books. Shall I ever see Monsieur le 
 Viscomte d'Epiollaz again .' 
 
 Trying to get morocco Bibles for some of my 
 Q 
 
242 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 friends led to the discovery that Bibles were not to 
 be bought in Aix. All the booksellers informed 
 me, " Bibles are not read in Aix ; you will only 
 find one at the priest's. But we have one copy in 
 fQur large volumes, for 200 francs ! " Happily at the 
 Scotch Presbyterian Asile Evangdlique they kept 
 the cheap Testaments, and of these I gave largely. 
 
 The fruit and poultry market was a grand place 
 to " sow seed." It was held under the lime trees 
 from 4 A.M. till 7.30. Of course I did not throw 
 them away, but used to pray for some opening. 
 By giving a tract or a leaflet to one peasant, others 
 would gather round me and listen to the story of 
 Jesus, the only Saviour and Mediator. Then hands 
 would stretch out for my supply. The last morn- 
 ing I had to replenish my basket. One dear 
 woman was most importunate for a Bible, and 
 waited patiently while I went for one. 
 
 One day we went on the Lake Bourget in the 
 steamer, which daily gives excursions for three or 
 four hours. We landed at the Monastery of the 
 Haute Coombe, where there is a most splendid 
 chapel, with the monuments of the Kings and 
 Dukes of Savoie. We followed the stream of 
 sightseers, and were received by two Jesuit monks 
 in brown serge costume. One party went to the 
 left, one to the right. Such a series of grilles and 
 bars and bolts — every tomb locked in ! Really I 
 
MONSIEUR LE SUPERIEUR. 243 
 
 felt nervous — one seemed so doubly locked in. 
 Brother Frank would have been in raptures with 
 the exquisite carvings and tracery ; but I kept 
 seeing one weary face — the monk I met in the 
 carriage two months before when going to Les 
 Innocents. 
 
 I said to Alice, " Do you mind my leaving you ? 
 I must find out that monk we met." Alice laughed, 
 but I went up to our Jesuit guide and said I much 
 wished to see one of their order who spoke English 
 — was very tall and ill. "Ah, c'est Mons. le 
 Sup^rieur.'* Go and knock, indicating my route. 
 I felt rather audacious, but proceeded. My knock 
 brought a- porter, and then a whisper travelled on 
 from one to another, " Une dame Anglaise ddsire 
 voir Mons. le Sup^rieur." I was conducted through 
 stone corridors, and a door was unlocked into the 
 reception-room, and I was locked in. (I never do 
 like locks.) It was barely furnished, but some 
 paintings on the walls of saintly faces set me 
 musing. The door opened, and a most stately 
 form, arrayed in white flannel robes with blue silk 
 facings and cordons, appeared. Yes, it was the 
 weary face. I said, " Do you remember me in the 
 carriage going to Les Innocents ? " " Oh yes, very 
 well." " You looked so ill and weary, I came to 
 enquire after your health." He was very gracious — 
 seemed touched that any one should care for him. 
 
244 JOURNAL OF A VISIT TO SWITZERLAND. 
 
 He told me he was so ill, and that he had fasted 
 that day. «' Oh," I said, "why fast? why not 
 rejoice in the liberty wherewith Christ makes His 
 people free ? If- He has done the work, no need 
 for our additions. Oh now, do get some good beef 
 tea ! " " Ah, yes ; but we have a bad cook, and 
 we get only bouillon and bad bread, but the fruit is 
 good." I cannot remember all that passed. He 
 told me that he had three converts from London 
 staying with him for instruction. Of course I had 
 no intention of being instructed. It helped me 
 much to tell him of Fanny's happy faith in life and 
 death, and that led to sending him her Memoir and 
 other of her books, which I have no doubt he will 
 read. 
 
 \Note. — With this very characteristic and amusing 
 episode M. V. G. H.'s account of her tour in 
 Switzerland and Savoie abruptly ends.J 
 
DIARIES 
 
 FROM 1883 TO 1887. 
 
 January i, 1883. — "Jesus Christ, the same yester- 
 day, to-day, and for ever." "Able to subdue all 
 things unto Himself" — ^just what I need. Left my 
 sister M. after a visit of a month at Oakhampton. 
 A page shut. Lord, open every life-page for me. 
 Specially may I live to edit Fanny's letters for 
 Thy glory. 
 
 January 2. — Whence came disorder ? How one 
 gets topsy-turvy ; in vain I try to keep all in order. 
 So, spiritually, yet I find gravitation to Christ as 
 my centre. 
 
 Sunday, January 7. — I awoke with Ps. Ixxxiv. 
 7, " Every one of them in Zion appeareth before 
 God," so none will be left behind. Rather depressed, 
 and restrained in prayer. Took a class and felt 
 helped. In the evening, the thought, " I have Jesus," 
 gladdened me. 
 
 Jatiuary 9. — Fine, and had a good time at Wyre 
 Hill, and at G. S.'s evening meeting. He gave a 
 very sweet address on Acts iv. 12, and the seven- 
 fold names of Christ. 
 
246 - DIARIES FROM 18SS TO 1SS7. 
 
 Sunday, February i8. — Helped with Ellen's boys 
 at ten, and class of girls at three. I did long for 
 even one soul to Christ. Messages from Thee is 
 my cry. I got one for myself in speaking of 
 John V. 24, " hath everlasting life," — a positive 
 assurance. 
 
 February 19. — "The God of my mercies shall 
 prevent me." What comforts I have even in my 
 bedroom ! Very restless at night, and nerves 
 upset. The feverishness is so trying, but I tell 
 Jesus all as I never did before, and He whispers 
 comfort. 
 
 April 12. — Ella B. told me how Fanny's "Me- 
 morials " brought her to Jesus ; it seemed a harvest- 
 sheaf after all my tears. Felt very ill, but wrote 
 the preface to " Lilies and Shamrocks." My pulse 
 and heart beat so fast ; is it my journey speeding 
 nigh the last step ? Such a sweet quiet in Jesus 
 came over me, and I fell asleep at His feet. 
 
 June 3. — At Caswell Bay. Darling Fanny's 
 birthday into glory. She is present with her Lord, 
 and her words come to me — 
 
 " Praising Him too, waiting for you.'" 
 
 Went on the cliiifs in the evening alone; I often 
 sing and praise the Lamb there ; I did long to hear 
 His still small voice. 
 June 18. — Hon. C. H. and wife from Hahfax, 
 
FROM LLANDILO TO KEYNSHAM. 247 
 
 Nova Scotia, came to see Fanny's rooms. He 
 said all her books are so read and blessed in 
 Canada. 
 
 June 23. — Read of dear A. S.'s privations in 
 Africa so nobly borne ; let me pray more for all 
 missionary workers. Felt- much humbled, but the 
 worse I am the more wonder of His grace to come 
 down to my depths. So pleased the lodgers like 
 my taking family prayers. 
 
 Julyzi. — Left The Mumbles for Llandilo; found 
 " upper room " lodgings ready — did thank God for 
 all mercies. 
 
 Sunday, July 22. — Distressed to find the old 
 heart wanderings even in God's holy temple, and 
 after all His purging ; quite ashamed. 
 
 July 24. — J. E. R.'s wedding day. May all the 
 bridegroom emblems be realized — 
 
 " And seat us where Thy marriage song 
 Shall never, never cease." 
 
 August I. — Made a trip to Llandovery; seemed 
 sent to comfort a poor woman. Lovely weather ; 
 next day sat in the park, and talked of the past to 
 M. F. 
 
 , August 27. — Left Llandilo, and arrived at Avon 
 Villa, Keynsham ; next day cousin S. H. arrived 
 — a noble enduring Christian, and the day after 
 sister Miriam came, to my delight and comfort. 
 
248 DIARIES FROM 1883 TO 1887. 
 
 Sunday, September 2. — Did rejoice tiiat dear W. 
 preached Ciirist fully ; lovely^ sermon from Cant, 
 ii. 14. 
 
 September 5. — Felt cross about callers, but shook 
 it off, and" some seemed very sweet Christians. 
 
 September 7. — Had a first-rate time at Chewton 
 School with the dear children on the miracle of the 
 leper. I walked marvellously ; felt my old talent 
 of legs, but afterwards very poorly. 
 
 September 16. — Rev. James Hannington, mission- 
 ary from Central Africa, preached twice, and gave 
 a graphic account of his sufferings. He told me 
 about assisting at niece Amy's marriage at Zan- 
 zibar. At 3 P.M. addressed M. E.'s cottage gather- 
 ing of twenty-two on " Nothing to pay " (Luke 
 vii. 42). It came with new force to myself; and 
 verse ,44, " He turned to the woman." Ah, He 
 never turns away. What will it be when He first 
 turns His radiant face on me ! On Monday 
 addressed the almshouse women. 
 
 Sunday, September 23. — Took Miss E.'s servants' 
 class; spoke on "Walk in the light," and "Walk 
 with me in white." 
 
 September 23. — Left Keynsham with sister M. 
 for 35 Upper Eelgrave Road, Clifton ; very poorly, 
 did not sleep. 
 
 October 2. — To Clifton Conferaice with M. 
 Rev. T. Greaves — a grand address on the Sonship 
 
FROM VVESTBURY TO WINTERDYNE. 249 
 
 of Christ, and met Pastor Don Luiz Rodriguez, 
 and his sweet English wife. 
 
 October 8. — Moved to nice clean rooms at Cote 
 Bank, Westbury-on-Trym, where sister Ellen came 
 to see us. 
 
 October 30. — The famous Isabella Bird, now Mrs. 
 Bishop, called, and lent us her last book, " The 
 Golden Chersonese." 
 
 November i. — We spent a pleasant afternoon at 
 Hillside, the lovely home of the widow of brother 
 Frank's godfather, H. V. T. 
 
 November 3. — Dear sister M. left me for Bod- 
 dington Manor, and then to go abroad with J. and 
 A. Had a cry till L. brought a. kitten up, which 
 comforte.d me ! 
 
 November 15. — Did not think I should ever live 
 to see-this date. A sweet message at church from 
 Rev. T. Greaves, " Be still " (Ps. xlvi.). Just suitable 
 for my restless, unquiet spirit. Lord Jesus, tired 
 of self and all, I come and lay me down on Thy 
 bosom, believing I shall be more than conqueror 
 through " Him that loved us." ■ 
 
 December 3. — Left Westbury, and arrived at 
 Winterdyne. 
 
 December 2\. — Addressed the Bewdley Grammar 
 School boys on i John iv. 14, and prayed that one 
 might be a missionary. Told them of E. Clay's work 
 in the Punjaub, and gave C. M. S. publications to all. 
 
250 DIARIES FROM 188S TO 1SS7. 
 
 Christmas Day. — Awoke at midnight, and had 
 comforting thoughts about "Emmanuel," that He 
 was man to understand my loneliness, and God to 
 fill the gaps and void. Sometimes a sleepless night 
 is God's special lesson-time ; heard all the hours 
 strike till four. The point brought vividly to my 
 mind was my life failure in not referring all little 
 details to God's will. Lord, what wilt Thou have 
 me to do? It is a comfort to me to remember, 
 " It is. God that worketh in you to will and to do."^ 
 
 December 29. — Damp and misty. Smallpox is 
 on the increase ; it is the only thing I have dreaded 
 all my life." Thank God I am feeling quieter and 
 not hurrying so. He is teaching me. 
 
 Sunday, December 30. — Felt concerned about 
 Mrs. W.'s soul, and P.M. started off to see her. 
 O Holy Spirit, show her sin and self! Met several 
 dear " nowhere" lads; spoke to them. Had prayer 
 at B.'s. Now, for myself, I just go to the Fountain 
 with all my Sabbath sins. Sabbath ^elf-pleasing, 
 etc. Lord Jesus, wash me, and forgive all even 
 unto sixty-one years, that life ended I may see 
 Thee and begin the life that has no end. 
 
 January i, 1884. — " Emmanuel " was much in my 
 mind for the new year. That name was revealed, 
 not imagined — "with us," who are so straying from 
 Him. 
 
 January 14.— Have been ill since January 2, 
 
A MUFFLED PEAL. 25 1 
 
 when I went to W.'s, and foolishly put carriage 
 windows open, and so got a chill. 
 
 January 26. — Prayed much for guidance in giving 
 money ; have helped some laid on my mind. Lord, 
 every farthing is Thine, teach me how to give. 
 Heard dear M. is ill at Mentone, but know she is 
 in Thy dear hand. 
 
 February 24. — Have had much writing lately, 
 and consequently many restless nights. When 
 praying this evening, the promise came so forcibly, 
 " Ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done 
 unto you ; " so I prayed for P. W., that the power 
 of the Spirit might come on him while preaching. 
 
 Sunday, March 2. — Took Ellen's class very 
 badly, — taught them more about Satan than 
 Christ. 
 
 March' l. — Made a mistake, telegrammed with- 
 out prayer, and so regretted it after. Not happy ; 
 of course Jesus can't bless what I do without Him. 
 
 SiCnday, March 9. — Took M. C.'s class. Spoke 
 on Matt. XXV. The muffled peal rang out for J. J. 
 I could hardly speak for crying, but entreated 
 the girls to accept the spotless robe, and to see 
 to their lamps. His last words were, "Blessed 
 Saviour." 
 
 April 3 to 5. — Went to Birmingham ; saw some 
 King's daughters ; one ill for twenty years said, 
 " The arms that uphold the universe are stretched 
 
252 niARlES FROM 1S83 TO 1887. 
 
 out for me, and are underneath me." I so enjoyed 
 the intense delight of pleasing Jesus in these visits, 
 but was very poorly afterwards. Oh, may I live to 
 print dear Fanny's letters ! 
 
 June 12. — Left Bewdley; saw W. and E. at 
 Oxford. Oh, may they be ambassadors for Christ, 
 and not for the Church only ! Arrived at the Old 
 Rectory, Cavendish. 
 
 June 19. — Dear Nurse C. left ; she has so kindly 
 ministered to me ; Lord say, " Inasmuch," etc. 
 
 [Note. — The interval between this date and the 
 next is described in the Autobiography.] 
 
 Sunday, Decemler 14, 1884. — This is dear Fanny's 
 birthday. Felt her loss so keenly ; well, but her 
 gain is great. I most regi'et not oftener seeking her 
 help for my own soul, and not giving her more 
 pleasures, as I could have done. Took F.'s class 
 P.M., and was much helped. John xiii. 8 came to 
 me for myself; Jesus came to Peter, so He comes 
 near to wash me. Have been very restless and 
 sleepless of late. 
 
 Christinas Day. — Sunshine all day. Had my 
 church with Miss W. and poor R. Went in to 
 G. P. ; his face was shining more than mine. I said, 
 " G., have you a bit of comfort for me f " (for I was 
 feeling low and as if I had to be always talking and 
 comforting others). In three words quite a thrill 
 of joy came to me through this poor fellow saying. 
 
LYNCHMERE NEAR HERTFORD. 253 
 
 "Jesus loves you.'' Truly it unveiled the heart of 
 Jesus to me. It is now eve'ning, aijd I have been 
 looking in Fanny's own BiblCj at her Christmas 
 marks. Now she sees the King, not in swaddling 
 clothes, but in His full beauty. I daresay she has 
 heard the same song that Gabriel sang. 
 
 December 31. — Awoke anxious to write letters 
 and give cheques more entirely all for Jesus. Went 
 to see sick people for G. S. Lord Jesus, Thou art 
 ever the same ; be the same to me and all my dear 
 ones as to F. Yes, I will trust and rejoice in Thee 
 and in the fountain opened for all my sins of 
 1884. 
 
 Sunday, January 4, 1885. — What shall I render 
 unto the Lord for all His benefits ? Bless the 
 Lord, O my soul, and forget them not. Spared, 
 chastened, strengthened, less restless sleeplessness, 
 more certain trust, more desir-e to please my dear 
 Lord in all little details. Went to Ribbesford 
 Church and to the Lord's table with F. and Ella B. 
 Cant. ii. 4. 
 
 January 28. — Saw Dr. M. yesterday, who says 
 there is no return of the disease. Left Birmingham 
 and arrived at Willie's home, Lynchmtere, close to 
 Hertford. Was helped to witness for Jesus in the 
 train. 
 
 January 30. — Took some Swiss milk from a 
 faulty tin ; very sick and ill, half-poisoned. Dr. S. 
 
254 DIARIES FROM 188S TO 1887. 
 
 said if I had not had sense and drank three quarts 
 hot water it would have been serious. ' Felt strangely- 
 happy in cramp and burning tongue. What if the 
 wings were coming ! 
 
 February 3. — Dear sister M. arrived from Mon- 
 treux to stay with me while W. and B. are at Pau. 
 
 February 26. — Went too long a walk by Bengeo 
 with M., who was taken ill after it. P.S. — She 
 continued ill nearly two months. 
 
 May I. — M. has helped me to correct the proofs 
 of Fanny's " Letters." So thankful they are done, 
 for I fear my disease is returning. It must be " the 
 footsteps of the end." Jesus is the end, so- for 
 myself I would rather go. 
 
 May 8. — I am making a little tour ', said 
 good-bye to Amy and Archie and little Havergal 
 at Home Lodge. 
 
 May 25. — At Caswell Bay. A trying day taking 
 down all Fanny's pretty things ; but it is clearly 
 right, and I prayed to give away what I ought. 
 
 May 30.— Finally left dear F.'s " nest " for Llan- 
 dilo. The last minute gave thanks on her piano, 
 the Gloria, to our father's chant " Worcester ; " then 
 F.'s last song, " Jesus, I will trust Thee," to her tune 
 " Hermas," and my whole self did trust. 
 
 Llandilo, Sunday, May 31. — Took the first class 
 boys at the church Sunday - school ; such dear 
 lads. One said, " We remember your texes two 
 
A TOUR FROM HERTFORD. 255 
 
 years ago." In the evening I took cripple J. a hair- 
 cushion I had made for him. 
 
 June I. — Left 2 Bank Terrace, Llandilo, for 
 Birmingham. 
 
 June 2. — Saw Dr. M. He confirmed my opinion 
 that cancer was re-forming ; but I felt quite happy 
 and fearless. On to Winterdyne. On no account 
 shall I tell my sisters, to distress them. Nieces 
 so kind and ministering. Tired out and had a 
 sleepless night. 
 
 June 6.^-" Set thine house in order." Up at five 
 sorting old letters ; such heaps of thankful ones, 
 but best to burn them. 
 
 June II.— Returned to M. at Hertford. 
 
 July I. — Went with M. to Claxton-on-Sea for a 
 fortnight at Lansdowne House ; from thence for a 
 night to the Old Rectory, Cavendish. 
 
 July 15. — Left Claxton for Hertford. Too late 
 for the train, but M. was in and went on, and I was 
 led to visit a lonely house while waiting, and found 
 a dear fellow-sufferer, one of Christ's hidden ones. 
 With tears she said, " I shall kneel down and thank 
 God for your visit." 
 
 July 23. — The first anniversary of my operation, 
 when the Lord so unspeakably upheld me. I felt 
 very ill, but told Him I was willing to suffer again. 
 One's deep sense of sin makes His love seem so 
 wonderful. I confessed all to Jesus my Saviour, 
 
256 DIARIES FROM 1883 TO 1887. 
 
 and do utterly trust Him, so human, yet so divine. 
 Oh that I could give Him joy 1 Oh that He will 
 work in me that which is well-pleasing^' in His sight ! 
 
 July 27. — Went for the last time to the dear girls 
 at Christ's Hospital. Gave them one word to think 
 of, " Kept," also Christ's prayer. 
 
 July 28. — Took the Y. W. C. A. meeting. Spoke 
 on the type of the Brazen Serpent ; was. much 
 helped, there was the hush of His presence ; still 
 I got no personal interviews afterwards. 
 
 Mrs. Abel S. called — a sweet sealed Christian. 
 So very poorly, was quite unable to go to church 
 on Sunday. 
 
 August y. — Sister M. and I left Hertford; she 
 for Boddington Manor, I to Birmingham. 
 
 August 8. — Awoke so ill I could hardly get up. 
 Went to Dr. M. and asked him how long I might ' 
 live. He said a year, or two perhaps. This was 
 a relief for M.'s sake, and to find I could return to 
 her. Went to Winterdyne. 
 
 August 21. — Left Winterdyne. Shall I ever see 
 . it again, and all those kind ones ? Willie and his 
 sweet B. and Alfred had been there. A remark of 
 his about God's clasping my hand was very sweet. 
 May he be much used by the Master, and his 
 ministry come with power. A cloud came over 
 me ; can it be'' possible, after all, the Lord Jesus 
 won't own me .■" To die mistaken — how awful 1 
 
MALVERN WELLS TO SIDMOUTII. 257 
 
 Met Elizabeth Clay, and came on to West Malvern 
 (Downes). 
 
 August 28. — Dear Frank came yesterday. Drove 
 with E. C. to Malvern Wells, where I remember 
 being when a child, and remember the lovely views 
 and walks. My early undutifulness presses upon me. 
 
 August 30, Sunday. — E.'s conversation so 
 heavenly and interesting about her Inciian work, I 
 felt ashamed of my deadness. 
 
 September I. — Left Malvern to live at Sidmouth 
 with Miriam. We had engaged No. 4 Fortfield 
 Terrace. Dear Willie met us. 
 
 September 2. — A storm and gale. Very wretched 
 all day. May I be purified from so- much dross. 
 What should I do without i John i. 7 ? 
 
 September 3. — A lovely day. Some comfortable 
 teachings. A little bit of work has turned up. 
 
 Septemb^ 6, Sunday. — Went with M. to All 
 Saints. Most thankful for Reformation service and 
 Gospel sermon on Gal. v. 18, from Rev. R. B. M. 
 
 September 22. — Drove with Ellen and Giles, and 
 walked up the West Cliff.. I had been thinking in 
 the night of " Him that overcometh," etc., and so 
 had they ! 
 
 September 25. — Walked up the East Cliff; saw 
 the sea-gulls flying. How soon shall I be flying ? 
 Certainly F. has the best of it up there ! Felt 
 great longing to be always obeying Jesus. 
 
25S DIARIES FROM 1883 TO 1887. 
 
 October 1 1, Sunday. — Went to see B. B. as often. 
 Evening text was Ps. xxvii. 4 — a sweet time. 
 Walked home with Lady R., and enjoyed tlie 
 fellowship of saints. 
 
 October 20. — Walked for two hours on Mutter 
 Moor. Dear E. Clay left England ; felt it a great 
 wrench. 
 
 October 22. — Walked two and a half hours up 
 Peak Hill and over moorlands ; I do so enjoy 
 utter stillness and no presence but the Lord's. 
 
 October 25. — To church with M. and John H. C. ; 
 a powerful sermon on " We would see Jesus," and 
 the closing hymn began with the same words. 
 Such a happy hush in the night though feeling ill ; 
 I had direct comfort leaving all to Jesus, and went 
 to sleep like resting on His hand. 
 
 November 10. — Went to Birmingham to see Dr. 
 Malins, and on to Winterdyne. 
 
 November 1 7. — Walked with Mr. and Mrs. Storrs, 
 and rejoiced in my ability to race ; quick walking is 
 such a delight to me ; a bright hoar-frost. 
 
 November 19. — Went with R H. and W, B. to 
 plant roses and daisies round Fanny's grave. I 
 always picture that vault as her robing room for 
 glory, and that I may be the first to see her rise in 
 His beauty and dear papa. (There is room for me 
 in the grave.) 
 
 November 25. — Left dear Winterdyne ; slept at 
 
ZENANA PARTIES AT SIDMOUTIL 259 
 
 the Old Manor House, Keynsham, to see my new 
 great-niece, C. H. S., and returned to Sidmouth on 
 the 28th. 
 
 November 29, Sunday. — I rested A.M., but went 
 to church P.M. Did not enjoy the pre-millenarian 
 teaching ; it does not seem to help one in the 
 knowledge of Christ. To die is much surer for nie 
 anyway, and quite as happy. 
 
 December 3. — I gave an address to the Zenana 
 Working Party on A. D. Shaw and wife's missionary 
 work in East Africa. I was so ill, I was scarcely 
 able to go, and left early, but quite enjoyed speak- 
 ing for our Missionary King. I have so enjoyed 
 the glorious sunsets lately. 
 
 December 20. — Leonard B.'s ordination day ; I 
 prayed the Lord Jesus to really call and ordain 
 him to Himself, to clothe him with His righteous- 
 ness, anoint him sevenfold. 
 
 December 31. — Awoke early. That verse, " Thou 
 art mine," was so comforting all day in very trying 
 sickness. I feel such a strong desire really to 
 please my King in all I do, and write, and give. 
 These are the last words I am ever likely to write 
 on a December .31, so my last look is and will be 
 to Jesus, and my last hope is in Him ; His blood 
 cleanses from all sin. I know I am in His dear 
 hand, and hope God will keep me brave and bright, 
 so that I may not distress my dear sisters. Lord, 
 
26o DIARIES FROM ISSS TO 1S87. 
 
 I thank Thee for all the lessons Thou hast taught 
 me in this illness. 
 
 January 7, 1886. — Splendid frosty day. The 
 sunset and afterglow quite Swiss. From three to 
 five at Zenana drawing-room meeting. I spoke 
 on our Lord's question, " What wilt thou that I 
 shall do unto thee ? " — the New Year application of 
 it, .His willingness and ability to do all we need 
 through the new year. Let our answer be, "Do 
 Thou for me." Has Jesus ever really done any- 
 thing for us.' "I — unto thee" — close contact. 
 Then I gave an account of E. Clay's warm recep- 
 tion at Jhandiala and Ajuala, and the illuminations 
 in her honoun Then I read Amy S.'s letter from 
 Kisulutini about the foundation of their church 
 being laid. I do excessively enjoy addressing. It 
 would be grand to preach in St. Paul's. 
 
 January 8. — Very much pressed with letters. 
 Strangers write, " I Jiave a strong impulse to write 
 to you." Ought I not then to accept this postal bur- 
 den as work for my King. He knows I do often put 
 my right hand in His. I am glad the promise in 
 Isa. xli. 13 is to the "right hand," because it is the 
 hand that holds the pen. Burnt a heap of letters, 
 all of thanks for my parcels. I should not like to 
 get their " inasmuch," and not the King's. 
 
 January 15. — Wrote an answer to Count Bern- 
 storff, giving permission for F. R. H.'s " Letters " to 
 
SONGS IN THE NIGHT. 261 
 
 be translated into German, and they were only 
 published in December ! Is not this the Lord's 
 seal in thus sending them to high places ? It quite 
 cheered me. 
 
 January 16. — Sleep is a peculiar mercy to me. 
 Often my restlessness is soothed by some hymn of 
 dear Fanny's. I seem to hear her singing every 
 note, and so her ministry of song is not yet 
 finished. " When thou passest through the waters " 
 comes to me often. I remember saying, O Fanny, 
 I hope you will sing that to me when I am dying. 
 It may be the memory of that air will come floating 
 to me then. 
 
 January 29. — I feel sure my life will not be long ; 
 it is literally " dying daily " since the shadow fell on 
 me. I could only cry. Lord Jesus, come for me ; 
 and the hush came, " I will come again and receive 
 you unto myself." That whole passage, John xiv. 
 1-3, is to me full of comfort as to death, not 
 millennial coming, confirmed by St. Stephen quot- 
 ing our Lord's own word, " Receive my spirit." I 
 believe " I will come again " refers primarily to 
 Christ's coming to and for each disciple who then 
 heard Him, and for each of the countless multitudes 
 since. 
 
 February 2. — Began copying out Jos. Harrison's 
 verses ; but writing and my world - wide corre- 
 spondence gives me restlcs.s nights. Visited a sick 
 
262 DIARIES FROM 1S83 TO 1SS7. 
 
 woman, and wish she would care for her soul as 
 much as for her cough. Looked at the clouds; 
 they have a soothing influence on me. It is curious 
 how seldom I see any one looking up on God's 
 ever-changing panorama. 
 
 February 8. — Have been thinking of John xvii. 
 11,12. " Kept," what an unassailable security ! " A 
 shepherd is a keeper of his sheep " was written in 
 dear Mrs. Teed's gift-Testament to me. What a 
 shield those words have proved ! I have hugged 
 them in storms and danger, in Irish bogs and sea 
 fogs ; and I shall be kept at His feet till I can look 
 up and thank my Keeper for ever. I took M.'s 
 advice, and so was kept from writing a letter to-day 
 that might not have honoured God. Yesterday 
 took Miss A.'s class on missionary subjects. Let 
 me intercede more for the dear labourers in foreign 
 lands. 
 
 February 9. — A very troubled day, a case of 
 " they wrest my words," and yet I did pray before 
 writing what did the mischief Sister M. very 
 kind ; wish I had taken her advice. It is as a 
 Christian I am grieved, but I see no remedy but 
 bearing it patiently. " In weakness made strong," 
 — how exactly the Lord's promises dovetail into 
 our needs ! Not one thing hath failed ; never has 
 He said more than He means. 
 
 February 1 8. — Took Mrs. M.'s mother's meeting ; 
 
"HE GAVE ME BACK THE BOND." 263 
 
 spoke on "To you that believe He is precious." 
 Christ is precious in Himself and in what He is to 
 us. It is singular that an African bishop when 
 dying slowly spelt the word precious, while an 
 aged man in Dursley workhouse startled me in 1870 
 with " Miss, is Jesus precious to your soul ? " Could 
 not sleep at night till the old hymn came as a 
 lullaby, " Can a woman's tender care," etc. I feel 
 as if I could welcome pain if the Lord Jesus comes 
 nearer. O Saviour, what Thou hast been to me no 
 words can express. 
 
 April 3. — Such a good night, thank God ! The 
 hymn, " He gave me back the bond," was very sweet 
 to me ; it reminds me of two lines a dear old saint 
 told me she once heard — 
 
 " He smiled and showed His bleeding side, 
 And then He smiled again." 
 
 I like to think of Jesus as " exceeding glad." At 
 His table I felt His blood so precious, as I so 
 specially need its cleansing power. 
 
 April 5. — Dear M. so ill ; one can only trust it 
 is God's way, and so must be the right way. And 
 as before a royal feast every vessel is separately 
 polished and brightened, so the dear Lord takes us 
 up one by one into His hand. He who is pure 
 must and will purify. 
 
 April 6. — F. A. S. came for a visit — quite a 
 
2'^4 DIARIES FROM 1SS3 TO 1SS7. 
 
 comfort. Rather troubled to-day ; yes, " the lip of 
 truth " is not always mine ; the sad stumble grieved 
 me till I knelt before the Lord. 
 
 April 24. — On the Mutter Moor \Vith dear 
 Frances, the air so free and refreshing. Dr. M. 
 answered my letter for advice ; as to the inevitable 
 pain — 
 
 "The strength to hear it calmly 
 Thou wilt command." 
 
 \_Note. — There are no more entries in the Diary 
 for five months, but they are dfescribed in the 
 Autobiography.] 
 
 Winterdym, November 11. — Not inclined to 
 get up to breakfast, but I prayed, Lord, make me 
 brave, and so jumped up. N.B. — Is it truthful to 
 do this, to hide all from dear Ellen .' but I cannot 
 bear to distress her. So tired at night, got into 
 bed without kneeling down ; saw Gethsemane in 
 my dreams, and Jesus kneeling in agony, and I 
 thought He came to my bedside and told me it 
 was for me. 
 
 November 14.. — Blessed Sunday! because there 
 is no post-bag. Taught dear A.'s class and 
 played the harmonium, but it hurt me to do so. 
 
 November 15. — My 65th birthday. The realiza- 
 tion of original sin always comes up on this day ; 
 but with that the exceeding preciousness of the 
 cleansing blood. Went to the almshouses; it 
 
V/rNTERDYNE AND WYRE HILL. 265 
 
 always so refreshes me; it is a bit of revisiting the 
 old times when E. Clay was here. 
 
 November 19. — M. C. kindly ministered to a real 
 need. Went to some sick in Bewdley. Wonderful 
 how I can race about ! 
 
 November 20. — Off to Wyre Hill. I read the 
 Bible to the people always, if possible, and get 
 them to read verse by verse ; that makes us more 
 one. Think God helped me to testify plainly of 
 His love. 
 
 December 4, Sunday. — Mr. S. being at Chelten- 
 ham with Ellen, I took his men's class at 9.30; 
 went over Rev. iii. 17 to end. Walked to church 
 and stayed to the Lord's Table. Took A.'s class 
 P.M., but felt no power with them, not having 
 prepared properly. 
 
 December 10. — When walking out I met and 
 spoke to a respectable widow ; she asked, " Can you 
 tell me if Miss Clay and Miss Havergal are alive .? " 
 I said, " Miss Clay is in India, and I am Miss H." 
 She looked at me and said, " You are not the Miss 
 Havergal who used to come and read and pray 
 
 with me in ■ Road .' " " No ; I do not remember 
 
 you ; it must have been my sister Frances ; she had 
 fair curls," etc. " Yes ; that's the one ! " Seeing her 
 again to enquire, I found that dear Fanny had 
 much comforted her. So after many days fruit 
 is found. 
 
265 DIARIES FROM 1SS3 TO 1887. 
 
 December 12, Sunday. — Tired, and had some pain ; 
 wondered how I could take Ellen's class, but God 
 helped me. The word "endure " is so strengthening, 
 for it implies suffering to be borne. Christ endured 
 the cross- " for the joy set before Him." Let me 
 look at the coming joy ! 
 
 \_Note. — This is the last entry for i886. Particulars 
 of some of the remaining days are in M. V. G. H.'s 
 Outlines of a Gentle Life, which was published in 
 the spring of 1887.J 
 
 January i, 1887. — How much has happened 
 since I last wrote in a diary! Dear sister Ellen 
 gone to glory, and so my fear of being a burden to 
 her is gone ; her gentle heart will never be distressed 
 at seeing any of us suffer and die. I rejoice now that 
 I hid from her how much I was suffering; often I 
 prayed to be brave that she might not guess. How 
 little dross she had ! She was walking closely with 
 God, and so had no need of the furnace fires as I 
 have. 
 
 I do so look back on her gentle life, and how 
 patiently she bore remarks made even in fun 
 against herself. I think she suffered more from 
 timidity than most knew, that she was often 
 longing to speak for Jesus, and did so, sometimes 
 with fear. She loved to put others first ; she always 
 gave the best seat in the carriage to me ; she would 
 avoid ringing bells just to save the servants trouble. 
 
ARRIVAL AT WESTON-SUPER-MARE. 267 
 
 I believe no one but God knew her selt-denying 
 ways in dress and everything. I can only rejoice 
 for her that she is spared the crushing sorrow of 
 widowhood, and I know the burden Winterdyne 
 must have been to her alone. 
 
 February 3. — Came to sister Miriam at Eding- 
 worth, WeSton-super-Mare. 
 
 March 14. — I see one reason why my life 'is 
 spared — to see dear E. Clay again, but she has not 
 an idea of my state. I have saved her eighteen 
 months' sorrow by not alluding to it in letters. 
 
 March 18. — I do so wish to die here ; it would so 
 save them all at Winterdyne ; to be a burden to 
 those dear nieces is my dread, but I have put it in 
 God's hands. 
 
 March 20, Sunday. — Not out all day. At the 
 time of Holy Communion I got a piece of bread 
 and some water, and went through the service. 
 Christ can feed me if lawfully kept from public 
 ordinances. 
 
 March 27, Sunday. — Too suffering to go to 
 church. Felt glad so many are praising Jesus in 
 the height, and that Fanny is singing to Him. I 
 had a cry for dear sweet Ellen ; but oh ! her joy and 
 rest ! Lord Jesus, I thank Thee. 
 
 March 30, Wednesday. — Went to Mr. Hunt's 
 church. Subject — The Righteousness of Christ. 
 (Rom. iii. 22.) So clear, it swept away every cob- 
 
263 DIARIES FROM 18S3 TO 1887. 
 
 web of self-righteousness' ; the Holy Spirit made it 
 most comforting. I went over the sermon in the 
 night, and was glad to have this best robe put 
 upon me ; every scrap'of mine is filthy rags. The 
 real nearness of Christ is my help ; as He walked 
 with the children in the fiery furnace, so He is with 
 me now. He is true, true ! 
 
 April 2. — It is real pain now, I can hardly crawl 
 to the near seats, but felt as content as when 
 roaming and climbing the hill-tops. It is a great 
 pleasure to recall Swiss journeys now, but the 
 everlasting hills are nearer and nearer. 
 
 April 3, Palm Sunday. — Walked with M. to 
 church ; a faithful sermon. I prayed Jesus to bless 
 dear Ellen's Memoirs to be given away to-day. Oh' 
 bless it to souls ! I wrote it in much pain, and but 
 for M.'s help in revision it could not have been out 
 so soon. 
 
 April 10, Easter Day. — My very last here, the 
 next at His feet. I am enabled to cry, " Not my 
 will, but Thine, be done.'' His dear hand really 
 upholds me ; in the long nights the Holy Spirit 
 teaches as never before. 
 
 April 25. — Dear Nurse Farrington came; such 
 an untold comfort. I have deep views of sin ; Lord 
 Jesus, show every page of my life, and pass Thy 
 bleeding hand to cover every stain. Oh precious 
 blood ! I do trust it for my. passport. 
 
THE LAST WRITTEN WORDS. 269 
 
 April 27. — Mr. Hunt called, and so comforted 
 me with his faithful loving words. 
 
 April 30, Saturday. — My pulse is 120, but Jesus 
 has the key of death. O come, unlock the door, 
 that I may fly away and see Thee ! 
 
 \_Note. — This is the last of the very few entries in 
 1887.J 
 
THE HAVERGAL ALBUM. 
 
 From the "C. M. S. Gleaner" of January 
 1887. 
 
 A VERY interesting gift has lately been made to 
 the , Church Missionary Society by Miss Maria V. 
 G. Havergal. It consists of several long-cherished 
 memorials of her father and of her sister F. R. H. 
 
 The late Rev. W. H. Havergal (beloved as a 
 pastor, and well known as a musical composer) was 
 an earnest and untiring advocate of the missionary 
 cause sixty years ago, whert its friends were fewer, 
 and its work little known ; and with the example of 
 her father before her, it is not to be wondered at, 
 that while still young, his daughter Frances spoke 
 of the C. M. S. as her favourite Society. Her 
 affection for it ever grew and increased ; she loved 
 it, spoke for it, wrote for it, and when anxious to 
 devote to the Lord's work what she possessed in 
 the shape of jewelry, it was to the hands of this 
 Society that she entrusted the offering. 
 
 Most of the interesting memorials sent by Miss 
 Havergal are gathered together in a beautiful 
 
THE HAVERGAL ALBUM. 271 
 
 album, carefully and tastefully arranged by her 
 own hand. In it may be seen the portraits of her 
 father and mother, with likenesses of her beloved 
 sister F. R. H., taken at different periods of her 
 bright and blessed career, interspersed with appro- 
 priate texts. In it may be seen the original MS. 
 notes of sermons preached and speeches made by 
 Mr. Havergal on many a tour on behalf of the 
 Society, enclosed in envelopes neatly gummed on 
 to the pages, and also the hymn sheets prepared 
 by him, and containing often his own compositions 
 for use at the Anniversary C. M. S. Services in his 
 own church. In it may be seen pictures of Winter- 
 dyne, the beautiful residence on the banks of the 
 Severn, where F. R. H. dwelt for some time with 
 her sister and her brother-in-law, Mr. Giles Shaw, 
 showing the room where she composed and sang 
 for the first time her inspiriting hymn, " Tell it 
 out ! " These, with some autograph letters, etc., 
 are followed by photographs of a beloved niece of 
 F. R. H., with her husband, the Rev. A. D. Shaw, 
 now a C. M. S. missionary in East Africa, and 
 some photographs taken by the latter illustrative 
 of missionary work ; also by the portrait of F. R. 
 H.'s friend, Miss Elizabeth Clay, labouring among 
 the women of India, with notices of the Village 
 Mission inaugurated by her. The Album rightly 
 closes with the portrait of her who, in much weak- 
 
272 THE HAVERGAL ALBUM. 
 
 ness, has gone through the labour of compiling it, 
 and has presented it to the Society. 
 
 Together with the Album, Miss Havergal has 
 given an MS. book of her sister Frances, containing 
 the original copies of some of her well-known 
 poems, and also cases of sermons by her father. 
 Among the trophies of the work done by the grace 
 of God, through the instrumentality of the Church 
 Missionary Society, these memorials of some of its 
 most devoted friends and labourers -at home will 
 hold an honoured place. May the remembrance of 
 their zeal and whole-heartedness be the means of 
 stirring up many to increased and prayerful effort 
 in the great work of sending and bringing the 
 gospel to the heathen ! S. G. S. 
 
LETTERS 
 FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 To Miss L. H. Lnilam. 
 
 Malvern House, Llandudno, 
 Sept. 6, 1858. 
 
 , . . Lately, my dear father preached one of the special 
 sermons in the nave of our Cathedral to such a mass of 
 hearers, and we are told that his voice was more dis- 
 tinctly heard than any one's, even than the Bishop of 
 Oxford's. His text was Acts v. 20 : " Go, stand and speak 
 in the temple to the people, all fhe words of this hfe." ' So 
 appropriate ! and " the words of this life " were explained 
 as the glorious life-giving truths of the Gospel. Fanny 
 said it was a wonderful sermon, and he went flowing on 
 with such animation and eloquence. Poor child, she is 
 too proud of her father. Well, I prayed that some jewels 
 might be added to the Redeemer's crown by it. Fan 
 was so deliglited, because, previously, a chant and a long 
 anthem of his were splendidly given by the choir. 
 
 F. is very full of the Irish Society, and is made 
 secretary to it in Worcester; it sends Irish Bibles, etc., 
 to the Irish-speaking population. Mr. Shaw labours so 
 for it, but the Spirit's teaching is needed to drink in its 
 lessons of love. To realize " this is my Beloved, and He 
 is mine," and " I am all fair in His sight," is what I glimpse 
 sometimes, and long for more of His immediate teaching. 
 
 It is not reading others' sweet thoughts of Christ, but- 
 one's own heart that must know His preciousness, and 
 my hand must to.uch the hem of His garment. There 
 
274 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL: 
 
 seem to be such unknown depths in His love, as A. 
 Newton calls it, " the ocean-fulness of His love ; " and yet 
 how content we are with a drop, a taste, when He bids 
 us " drink abundantly, O beloved." I feel Him near on 
 these mountain-tops where Miriam and I roam. There 
 is a quiet mountain church, where, as we chant " The sea 
 is His, and He made it," the waves mingle their praisp. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Celbridge Lodge, Dublin, 
 Auj;. 25, 1S61. 
 
 You must tell me soon how it has been faring with 
 you this summer. Your dear mother is still His waiting 
 one ; but though the chariot wheels tarry, it will come, 
 and then, as a dying Scripture reader said, " My Master's 
 chariot is come, and oh, I find it so easy !" 
 
 Fanny is now at Oakhampton, enjoying the loveliness 
 of Astley. She is not composing at all, it gave her such 
 headaches. I saw a gentleman in Scotland, who said she 
 was the first living poetess, and that her contributions to 
 Good Words were eagerly sought. Dr. Macleod, the 
 editor, besides a cheque, sent her copies of all his works, 
 some 12 or 15 volumes. She plays so beautifully. 
 
 I wish I could give you good news of Ireland. About 
 here the people are forbidden to listen, not only to the 
 Bible, but to what any Protestant may say. The Scrip- 
 ture reader says even violence is sometimes offered him. 
 There is a secret committee in every place to watch their 
 neighbours, and report any visit or Protestant doings. 
 It is not the people's fault, they would gladly hear, but 
 the priests forbid. 
 
 Ellen's is a very well ordered household. We have 
 singing at family worship, and the little ones come in, 
 but baby being only a few months old has sometimes to 
 be dismissed with her commentary ! They are wonder- 
 
THINK OF A HAPPY REUNION. 275 
 
 fully obedient children. I believe it is a criterion of an 
 obedient child to go to bed without roaring, and the same 
 with medicine. One of little F.'s pretty questions was, 
 "Auntie, when they have sung the' 'new song,' what will 
 they sing next ? " 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Shareshill Vicarage, 
 Sept. 4, [18S3.] 
 
 Thank you for a deeply interesting letter, forwarded to 
 me in Ireland some time ago. I know that you are 
 daily feeling the loss of your excellent brother, and yet 
 every day brings you nearer to the happy reunion. Oh, 
 I.ucy, how many a sister would envy your^ sure hope of 
 your brother's glory ! It is so delightful to know he lived 
 in the Lord and died in Him. Just contrast your last 
 meeting with him on earth with your next above. You 
 on your sick-bed, he, wearied and worn, and neither able 
 to relieve the other. Then think of meeting where the 
 inhabitant shall not say, I am sick, and where the sister 
 spirit shall recognise the glorified brother, enjoying that 
 greater degree of glory the faithful minister enters into. 
 I do not like to imagine beyond what revelation discloses, 
 and the books now read on the employments of heaven 
 seem to me puerile in the extreme. 
 
 My niece, M. L. Crane, went with me to Ireland. She 
 is the sweetest girl I know, and was much admired, and 
 the cottagers would say, "Isn't she a jewel ! look at her 
 eyes, and the bloom on her cheeks," etc. etc. Ellen and 
 her husband do much good. Their home is quite the 
 " House Beautiful," where pilgrims coine and tarry awhile. 
 I got about among the cabins a little, saw the hens laying 
 their eggs on the. nest by the bolster, and the cow or the 
 pig sharing the bedroom. The worship of the Virgin is 
 far before that of the Saviour of the world. There are 
 three Jesuits, and I have no doubt my visits are reported. 
 
275 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Often the poor things would say, " Oh, Miss, we should 
 like to hear you read/ but dare not, we should have to do 
 penance." They have no idea that Christ can save them 
 without the Virgin. They have a book called the Glories 
 of Mary, in which her name is constantly put instead of 
 His; e.g., 'Mary so loved the world that she gave her 
 only," etc. Also in the Lord's prayer, " Thine, O Mary, 
 is the kingdom and the power," etc. One man said to 
 jne, " The Bible is a dead letter ; there are more souls 
 sent to damnation by your Bible reading than anything 
 else." Awful, is it not ? I could write sheets of what -I 
 hear and see. 
 
 You ask for Fanny, she sparkles away. She sent such 
 a sweet tale to Nelson the publisher, called " Katinka, a 
 story from Russia," and most curiously the MS. is lost. 
 And now farewell. May He who changes not be gladness 
 in your hearts. May the comfort of His Spirit revive my 
 . dear friends, and make each more meet for the inherit- 
 ance of the saints in light. 
 
 To an Invalid Aunt. 
 
 Lansdowne Crescent, Worcester, 
 April 22, 1859. 
 
 Perhaps the enclosed lines on "Beautiful Zion" may 
 refresh you in your weary hours. M.'s children have 
 learnt it, and sing it so prettily. They give me a glimpse 
 of the beauties waiting for me. Your way, my dear Aunt, 
 has been rough, but it is the "right way," and the end 
 shall be to enter into the gates of 
 
 " Beautiful Zion that I love. 
 Beautiful city built above." 
 
 The past season of our Saviour's suffering must have 
 been very precious to you. He bore our griefs, and in 
 all our afifiiction He is afflicted. His aching brow and 
 
SHARESHILL VICARAGE. 277 
 
 pierced hand can feel for and sustain the tried sufferer. 
 Jesus would not even receive anything to dull or alleviate 
 the pain. Oh the depths of the sympathy of Jesus ! 
 -^sympathy with you, dear Aunt. Oh, look up and say, — 
 
 " For soon will recompense His smile 
 The sufferings of this little while." 
 
 I trust this hope is yours, and this is an anchor cast 
 within the veil. Who can cut the chain that fastens our 
 soulstojesus, the "Rock of Ages"? "No condemnation" 
 to them who are in Christ. " Who shall separate us froin 
 the love of God in Christ Jesus ? " 
 
 A poor Christian, bedridden for twenty-five years, is 
 just released. She was willing for His will to be done in 
 her, and now she is with her dear Lord. The twelfth of 
 Hebrews and the eighth of Romans were her favourite 
 portions. . . . 
 
 One of my almshouse women was so filled with the 
 dying love of Jesus on Good Friday, she could only look 
 at His cross and say, " Enough for justice ; enough for 
 God ; enough for me !" 
 
 To ihe same. 
 
 SiiARESiiiLL Vicarage, 
 Aug. 27, i860. 
 
 I wish you could see our pretty home, and especially 
 how the people crowd to church. Some farmers come 
 twice a-day who seldom came once before. I hope 
 many will really be stirred up to attend to the soul. One 
 old man is very amusing. The first time I met him he 
 said, " Is your father the new parson I hear so much talk 
 of? Well, he had need come among these dry bones. 
 The Lord can work by whom He will : it was by a primi- 
 tive woman the light came to me. Thirty years ago that. 
 Ah, she was a woman I She went to try and convert the 
 
278 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 schools at Wolverhampton, and the. master was so angry 
 with her, he said he would put her in the stocks; but he 
 didn't though, for after all, he took her to church and 
 married her ! I have a mighty notion of you women, 
 and whenever you have a word of exhortation you're 
 welcome to come to my cot. . . ." 
 
 It is indeed trying for you to wait so long at the very 
 door of heaven ; but the Lord Jesus has the key, and 
 when He opens, all our earthly chains will fall off, and, 
 like Peter, we shall pass through the prison wards and 
 enter, into the city. The promise I send you is, " Thine 
 eyes shall see the King in His beauty." I send you 
 Fanny's lines on that, they are published in Good. Words. 
 
 To the Girls of the Charter School at Celbridge, 
 Co. Kildare. 
 
 Cromer, Norfolk, 
 Sept. 26, 1867. 
 
 My dear Girls, — Do not think that I have forgotten 
 you and the pleasant Sunday evenings when you used to 
 sit so still and answer me sq nicely. I should like to 
 walk round and speak to every one again, but my letter 
 must do that ; and what should I say to you ? I think 
 it would be, " Dear child, are you in Christ? Have you 
 come to Him?" I trust some can say, "Yes, I have 
 come, and I am so happy, and I do believe what Jesus 
 says, ' Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast 
 out.' " To such I would say, i John ii. 12-28. To those 
 who are still away from Jesus, outside of His happy fold, 
 let me say, " What are you waiting for ? Come, for Jesus 
 calls you ; come, for all things are ready ; and come 
 now, before the door is shut." Think what it will be, to 
 be shut out from the Lord Jesus for ever ! Do not 
 forget the little prayer we used to say together, " Lord, 
 open Thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things 
 
WESTMORELAND TO CROMER. 279 
 
 out of Thy law." Fill me with the Holy Ghost, for Jesus 
 Christ's sake. Amen. 
 
 If you look at the maps, you can see the long journey 
 I have had this summer. From Bewdley down to Guild- 
 ford, then to Great Malvern and its beautiful hills, then 
 up to Morecambe Bay, Ktndal and Keswick. There I 
 saw our highest mountains, Scafell and Helvellyn, and 
 the lakes of Windermere and Derwentwater. One 
 remarkable rock is called the Lion and the Lamb, and it 
 looks just like them ; another rock resembles an organ 
 and a lady playing at it 
 
 The rocks teach us many lessons : " Lead me to the 
 rock that is higher than I ; " " The Lord is my rock ; " 
 " The shadow of a great rock in a weary land." Find 
 out the chapter. Now look at the map again. From 
 Morecambe through Lancaster, Crewe, Birmingham, 
 Rugby, Peterborough, Ely, and Norwich to Cromer. 
 Here I am sitting, and from my window I see the grand 
 white waves rolling in. On the sands are sea-weeds, 
 crimson and scarlet, but they fade so soon ; put what I 
 send you in a basin of water. Cromer is quite on a 
 promontory, — sea to the north, east, and south ; and it is 
 the only place in England where the sun both rises and 
 sets in the sea. How I wish you were all here ! 
 
 I saw the lifeboat go out one day, and also I saw the 
 life-lines or ropes that they send to a ship if it is sinking. 
 The waves are so high no boat could go to it, no arm 
 long enough to help. So they keep long ropes ready, 
 and if a ship goes on the rocks they fasten the rope to a 
 rocket and shoot it out to the ship ; the sailors catch hold 
 of the rope, then along the rope they slide. A life- 
 preserver or sea-escape is a round belt of air, which a 
 man puts round his waist, and there is a sort of sack 
 below it to keep his feet steady. Only one at a time 
 can come in, and they must trust the one rope ; then the 
 sailors on shore pull the rope in, and the poor sailor is 
 safe. I thought, " How shall we escape if we neglect so 
 great salvation ? " Ah ! if you were sinking in the deep 
 
28o LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 waves, how you would watch the only rope, the only life- 
 escape coming to you, and how eagerly would you get 
 irrto it! " Neither is- there salvation in any other, for 
 there is none other name whereby we must be saved." 
 
 The beautiful desk you gave Mr. Shaw stands in the 
 drawing-room at Winterdyne. I was quite astonished to 
 see my name in the address. 
 
 Farewell, my dear children, and may God the Holy 
 Spirit guide you to that happy land where we shall meet 
 for ever. 
 
 Give my love to Miss Kavanagh and her sister, and 
 with my love believeme, — Your sincere friend, 
 
 Maria V. G. Havergal. 
 
 Harlech, July 8, 1S72. 
 
 Dear Sisters and Listeners, — So far safe and well 
 in our pleasant wanderings, thanks to God ! "When we 
 reached Dolgelly we found comfortable rooms, and, after 
 tea, went to the lovely Torrent Walk. There was a 
 marvellous sunset, Cader Idris resplendent. Our land- 
 lady has a brother — a missionary in Bengal. When he 
 decided to go out, a brother minister said to him, " I 
 know a young lady who has wished to take up mission 
 work ever since she was a child." He went that day to 
 see her, and soon married her, of course. 
 
 At 7 A.M. next day, we set out for the Precipice Walk, 
 but made a detour up a craggy peak with a most repaying 
 result. We camped on the heather for two hours, and 
 then returned to the track. Fanny exclaimed, "This is 
 quite a la Suisse ! " for the rain had crumbled the path 
 away at the steepest slant of the rock. We were glad 
 of our alpenstocks, and did not reach Dolgelly till 5 
 o'clock. After tea I heard bells chiming, and found the 
 old church open for service. Alas! there was so much 
 of the outward — vases of artificial flowers and cros.ses. 
 
DOLGELLY AND HARLECH. 2S1 
 
 No wonder the church empties and the meetings fill. 
 Next day we took the train to Barmouth Junction, and 
 then walked. F. said the " Rhine is not prettier in many 
 places." We took a great dislike to Barmouth, there 
 seemed no air, and the sands were loose and dusty. So 
 we resolved to go on to Harlech. We soon found three 
 rooms high up, near Pen-y-garth, just the thing. Fanny 
 found a low stool for sitting in in her window; she is 
 quite content if she can sit and look at the sea ; she 
 is iirst-rate in being pleased and satisfied with things 
 as they are. She thinks the air bracing, and likes the 
 shelves and arm-chairs in the rocks near us, and the old 
 castle and the distant views beyond it. Sunday was 
 a pouring wet day, but I enjoyed its rest. The weather 
 is clearing to-day, and we are going for a long evening on 
 the sands. We do thank our heavenly Father for allow- 
 ing us such rest and leisure. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Hari.kch, /ti/f 13, 1872. 
 " He led them on safely," and pleasantly too, I may 
 thankfully add. Our lodgings are comfortable, barring the 
 Grossest child I ever knew. It never purrs, which teaches 
 me how our heavenly Father must weary with His un-purr- 
 ing children. Tuesday we took a climb up the peak above 
 the Tallysanna road, and had to get over some stone 
 walls. I had a -tumble to humble me. F. beats me 
 by her peculiar agility. Wednesday morning we started 
 in a spring butter cart. The gleeful old woman goes to 
 the mountain farms to collect butter. She also gets 
 butter-mugs of 60 or 70 lbs. for winter use. - This cart 
 took us six miles, to near Cwm Bachyan Lake, with 
 its frowning rocks above, and the long pine-wood walk, 
 with the rushing stream, charmed F. We saw two 
 tourist lads, evidently astray; they gladly came up to us, 
 
282 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 and together we went up the Roman steps, very curious 
 indeed. The lads went on their twenty-mile walk, and 
 we camped and lunched, and then went to sleep on 
 the heather. At three we started back, and reached the 
 rose-covered farm, where Frances and Alice slept in that 
 thunderstorm night. Here we made signs for tea, and had 
 the half-yards of bread, and the butter was so delicious ! 
 A baby was in the cradle, and the fifteen olive-branches 
 (or hindrances, I was going to say) were all at home, and 
 working in the fields and dairy. We so regret they knew 
 no English. We walked back to Harlech by eight 
 Fanny looks well, and actually condescends to like what 
 she eats, and says she sleeps splendidly. Tuesday, we 
 went down to the shore to bathe, where it is quite lonely, 
 — no need of bathing women and machines, — but, alas ! a 
 whole herd of black cattle forestalled us ; they raced into, 
 the sea, dashing into the waves as high as their backs ; 
 they then walked along in the sea, and finally went back 
 to their pasture. I was not aware of their sea-bathing 
 instinct. Cows always keep F. within bound, they are 
 her policemen, and she is rather glad to keep near me 
 and out of their beat. Yesterday evening I did some 
 needlework on the rocks, and read the first newspaper we 
 have seen for a week ! 
 
 We both agreed to have another quiet Sunday, and not 
 push on in the rain, — health and strength being our 
 main object in coming here. 
 
 To an Invalid Aunt 
 
 Llanberis, 
 July 19 and 20 f 1872, 
 
 . . . Sunday morning we went to the Welsh service, it 
 was too far to go five and a half miles to the English. 
 In the evening I took tracts to some of my old friends. 
 Then a girl knocked at our door, and said, " Please, I am 
 
ASCENT OF SNOWDON. 283 
 
 Lydia; I come three miles to see you." I found it was the 
 girl I gave my hat to on condition she would go to 
 the Sunday school, so I had her in ; her broken English 
 was very amusing. I was asked to call again on the 
 poor young widow whose husband was buried last week. 
 Her mother-in-law spoke broken English, but in such a 
 forcible way. She said to me, " I can't talk English, but 
 I come ever^to one verse, there I conquer, 'The blood 
 of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.' 
 Satan can't face the blood, — I lose him there." 
 
 Monday we left Harlech for Port Madoc, such a lovely 
 road, under great rocks and past little lakes and a river, 
 till we came to Pont Aberglaslyn. After lunch, on we 
 went to Beddgelert, an eight miles' walk. Neither of us 
 felt tired, and it w^as such a charming evening. I pro- 
 posed going on instead of sleeping there, but first we. 
 had tea at such a clean blacksmith's ; I mean the wife 
 was clean ! \N.B. The way is, carry your tea and sugar, 
 go to any shop for a threepenny loaf, send for new milk, 
 get eggs boiled, and you have a capital tea. You con- 
 stantly see in Welsh windows: " Hot water and carpets ! 
 3d. each for attendance."] You cannot think how we 
 enjoyed the Naut Gwynaut Lake, and Snowdon looked 
 grand. We were glad to spy the lonely mountain inn, 
 Pen-y-Guryd, after our sixteen miles' walk. Tuesday we 
 were off by eight to go up Moel Siabod, a mountain that 
 painters frequent. Black says, " The ascent is difficult, 
 guides can be engaged." Of course we set all this at 
 defiance. It would be as likely as if Johnnie Crane took 
 Nanna with him riding ! There is no beaten track at 
 all ; we walked two hours, then rested, and in less than 
 another hour we were on the top, with a grand view. 
 After a nap on the heather, we descended on the other 
 side to Capel Curig, and, after a lunch, we started back 
 for our inn at Pen-y-Guryd. This was our first extrava- 
 gance ; but meals and bed and all extras only came to 4s. 
 each the first night, and 5s. each the roast-beef night, in- 
 cluding bed and meat breakfast. Wednesday was lovely, 
 
2S4 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 so we started at eight, going up the steepest and grandest 
 side of Snowdon by a zig-zag path. We arrived safely at 
 the top about noon. We had a clear, grand view in the 
 sunshine, and we did thank. God for letting us see His 
 handiworks. I am so pleased that Switzerland has not 
 spoiled Fanny's enjoyment in Wales, she constantly ex- 
 claims how delighted she is. . . . About two we began 
 to descend, for clouds had veiled the summit, but it was 
 lovely to see them drifting and clea,ring._ I had written 
 to secure rooms with my cottage friend at Llanberis, as 
 we came down that side. We were a little stiff the 
 next day, but I wish you could see how well F. looks. 
 We decide to stay here till Saturday the 27th, reaching 
 home (please God) on Monday. 
 
 Fanny is well, and so useful in the schools and parish, 
 and her heart is quite set upon Christ; she has been 
 drawn by His love. 
 
 We all join in rnuch love to you, dear Aunt, and be 
 sure I pray for you; and Jesus says, "Fear not, I will 
 never leave thee, nor forsake thee." 
 
 To a Friend. 
 
 A plain question shall have a plain answer. " Pleasant 
 Fruits" are strictly facts, not outlines filled up.- For 
 twenty-five years I have kept a blank note-book in my 
 District-bag, and noted at the time, i.e. immediately 
 after, anything striking in a person's words, see p. 115. 
 The only exceptions are when my notes failed me, 
 though the outlines were fact. 
 
 -Dear old Mary ! her sweet, simple words flowed like 
 poetry. Out of hundreds — I might say thousands — of 
 visits, I selected such as seemed "to me to show God's 
 work, not mine, that so the glory might be His who only 
 made me a messenger. Often have I wondered myself 
 at my poor friend's outpourings. 
 
A MARVELLOUS RADIANCE. 2S5 
 
 I could not vouch for every word of my answers, and 
 have given texts in full to make them more clear. 
 Where possible, I give their histories without the breaks 
 of my remarks and questions. I have avoided living 
 subjects, except EUzab,eth Sherwood, who is eighty-four, 
 and one or two on the verge perhaps of eternity, who 
 appeared so humble and true. 
 
 in re-copying my notes, I pruned away, as I hoped, all 
 self-touches. In p. 91 I touch as lightly as possible 
 on what was a marvellous radiance, a transfiguration 
 glory, which I longed for some infidel to see. My 
 present work is a mission chiefly on Wyre Hill, Bewdley, 
 under the rector, in a parish of 2000, with Miss Elizabeth 
 Clay. Our walks extend four miles. Some account of 
 it has been published in The Ladies' Scriptural Magazine 
 for May, June, and July 1870, signed M. V. G. H. " Not 
 unto us, but unto Thy name be all the glory." 
 
 To Miss M. C. 
 
 Ael-y-don Terrace, Barmoutit. 
 Just to tell you the thoughts yours and F. M.'s loving 
 presents brought to me. The lilies whispered directly, 
 " I am the lily of the valleys," and He said by them, I am 
 going with you, I am your lily, — your clothing of purity 
 and huniility. And I had lately wished so to go really 
 down, down in His valleys, and take the lowest place 
 again while listening to all those addresses. And as I 
 shut my eyes wearily, the rumble of the train resolved 
 into quite a musical chorus to the old Scotch tune 
 (French) and the Scotch paraphrase, — - 
 
 "The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want. 
 He mak?s me down to lie 
 In pastures green ; He leadeth ms 
 ■The quiet waters by ; " 
 
 and all on through the Psalm. 
 
286 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 Rough farmers' voices awoke me, so I asked the one 
 nearest to smell the lilies, and he said, " I never see them 
 growed before : where do they grow ? " Then another 
 said, after my remark about who was the lily of the valleys, 
 " Can you tell me why it says, 'I am the Rose of Sharon '?" 
 That helped me to speak of the red rose, the crimson 
 blood, and the white robe of purity. Then I gave one a 
 lily, and he put it so carefully in his button-hole, and said, 
 " I'll keep the remembrance of it as long as I live." 
 
 They left at Shrewsbury, and then I opened the scent- 
 bottle, which brought my own father's love back, for he 
 always brought us some from abroad. I had to wait two 
 hours at Ruabon, and found out some of God's hidden 
 ones in the almshouses. One said, " I am in the fold, 
 and I am quite, quite sure I am going to Him." 
 
 At Barmouth, Miss Jones was waiting for me,' with 
 flowers on the table, and the pretty little things I like to 
 see. Then I opened your box, and so enjoyed the love 
 first, and the sweeties after, the jam and the cake, etc. 
 But I can't think why you thought of all this for my 
 journey — no one else had. And the thought came. Why 
 do they love me ? and then I felt it was in Him who loves 
 us both. 
 
 To a Friend. 
 
 . . . You see my sister F.'s books are not about 
 religion, but about the Lord Jesus as a personal living 
 Saviour. It is an aptual revelation of Himself in one's 
 own soul, which is so unmistakeable that no one has an 
 idea of the joy till the Holy Spirit teaches it. Then 
 comes that bright, happy communion with Him which is 
 worth all else. Of course outsiders cannot understand 
 it, but to all comes His loving royal call, " Come unto 
 Me." Reading the Bible with the expectation of finding 
 Oue we know not, gives intensity to our search. That 
 some do not know, do not even care, does not alter the 
 
ROOTED IN CHRIST. 287 
 
 great facts of revelation'; the great fact that the soul is 
 spiritually dead and so needs conversion — a literal new 
 life, even a new creation (2 Cor. v. 17) ; and that without 
 this, Christ's "Verily, he cannot enter the kingdom of 
 God," must come true. I know there are many to whom 
 this inner joyous life is a sealed epigma. I wish such 
 could see, as I have seen, the two classes of death-beds. 
 Death is the great unveiler, no forms or rites avail then. 
 Yes, I have heard the young and, beautiful exclaim in 
 agony, "Oh, what madness to live for this world ! " Another 
 said, " Oh, I have been deceived', I am lost, I am lost, 
 there is no hope now ! " and no prayers or promises gave 
 any comfort. Then the contrast to see, yes, see a visible 
 glory descend on the dying one, not only on my darling 
 sister, who literally never saw death, but only her King, 
 and most surely He came Himself, and her triumphant 
 " Oh, He is come ! " was it not the sealing of her holy life ? 
 Was it not to strengthen you and me to live the life of 
 faith which so many ignore ? This is my special message to 
 you — " Rooted in Him ; " and just as the tiny root sucks 
 up the moisture, so the soul that is in Christ has the life- 
 ' giving streams of His Holy Spirit. " In Me " — nothing 
 short of this brings peace or joy. And, so to speak, 
 with an out and out venture, an entire yielding of your 
 very self to Jesus, a very grasping of that dear hand,^so 
 long and so lovingly stretched to save you, the Holy 
 Spirit opening your eyes to see your pardoning Lord, and 
 your ears to hear His precious promises (John vi. 34) ; 
 then full, sweet joy, union, and communion will be yours. 
 " Now ye are clean, through the word I have spoken unto 
 you." 
 
 To the sa7?ie. 
 
 It is so strengthening to know that the work of grace 
 in our souls will surely be carried on, making us more 
 Hke Jesus Himself, — that this happy life of trusting Jesus 
 
283 LETTERS 'FROM Af. K. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 about everything, asking what He wills about everything, 
 will go on in dark days as well as in bright ones. And 
 the source of all this is the love of God in Christ, and 
 this is an everlasting, endless fountain, whose fulness will 
 flow into your heart and mine, until we see Him face to 
 face. I was thinking of His promise that the Holy 
 Spirit should "take of the things of Christ and show 
 them unto us," and I found how little I knew of this 
 showing; just like a little child, who impatiently turns 
 pxer the pages of his picture book, and learns nothing, 
 sees only half its beauties, till he lets his teacher show 
 him page by page; so I did cry, "Show me the things of 
 Christ," and very soon the showing came of His love, in 
 washing me in His own blood. 
 
 I shall never write to you on a 29th of February again. 
 Is it not solemn ? In eternity I shall be waiting for you 
 to come through the golden gates. 
 
 The love of Jesus is such a reality to me in 'almost 
 constant suffering; — that He is mine, is near as if His 
 very arms held me, and the promises are such a comfort. 
 
 Farewell. Meet me, washed white in the' blood of the 
 Lamb.— Yours till then, M. V. G. H. 
 
 To her Brother's Twin Boys. 
 
 The Mumbles, 1879. 
 
 Dear Willie and Ethelbert, — I was much pleased 
 with both of your nice, kind letters. You told me not to 
 answer ; but I feel sure Aunt Fanny would have done 
 so. In many things she has left me such a good example, 
 and it was just because she was always trying to follow 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 I have found an old letter about you both which 
 says, " I have not at this moment any wish so great as 
 that the services at the Tent may be the Lord's own call, 
 to them. My father's own grandsons, the elder bearing 
 
A LITTLE- SANCTUARY. 289 
 
 his own name, W. H. H. Oh, do pray fervently for them ! 
 I do hope they will be wholly the Lord's." 
 
 You are right, Willie dear, in noticing how God's 
 Holy Spirit taught her even from a child. 
 
 You would be really proud if you read half the letters 
 I do, about her blessed influence even among the literary 
 and learned men. One writes, "Her poems are almost 
 Miltonic, and of marvellous sweetness and power." 
 Another, " A more lovely Ufa was never known." A 
 Unitarian writes to me, that since reading " My King," 
 he has left his false doctrines and loves the Lord Jesus. 
 
 But I must not stay. I have such headaches, and 
 such heaps of letters.' But I think, pocket-money is 
 always short at the end of term, so I just send you 5s. 
 each. Aunt Maria does love her dear nephews, though 
 not able to come and see them yet awhile. You need 
 not answer, for I am leaving Wales. 
 
 To Miss E. M. 
 
 Mumbles, October 25, 1880. 
 
 I am still under letter interdict, and still constantly 
 disobedient ; but what can I do ? With constant appeals 
 to my sympathy, and countless requests, I must respond. 
 I do want all my letters now to be real work for Jesus. 
 So may He give me words^sr you. 
 
 And the message was in Ezek. xi. 16 the day you left 
 hoTne : " Yet will I be, to them as a little sanctuary in 
 the countries where they shall come." Of course that is 
 Jesus Himself, with you. Now a sanctuary is a place to 
 abide in, so see that you abide in Jesus. A friend of 
 F. R. H.'s writes to me about this continuous living in 
 Jesus,- — stepping out of yourself into Him, and it is the 
 present tense, "To whom coming" i Peter ii. 4, just as 
 continuously as " cleanseth." Now,' dear E., I wish I 
 were quite sure that you are in Jesus. 1 know you love 
 T 
 
2go LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HA VERGAL. 
 
 Him, desire Him, but there is more. In Him, then, 
 would flow the sweet conscious reality that Jesus is with 
 you as your living, loving Head. 
 
 My darling would say, "Whatever are you waiting 
 for ? " Simply at once take the step, and belieVe that by 
 the Holy Spirit's power, as you look up and say, "'My Lord 
 and my God," as surely Jesus meets your cry, and says, 
 " Fear not," (why?) "I have redeemed thee ; thou art 
 Mine'' Did you see in Ezek. xvi. 8 that baby allegory, 
 " Thou fe(ra»z«/ Mine" ? and then, in ver. 60, after all the 
 wanderings and forgettings on our part, He says, " I will 
 remember;" and compare with Jer. ii. 2 and F.'s " Dost 
 Thou indeed remember me t Just me, the last and least." 
 
 Now, two words to sum up — " sanctuary," " Mine." 
 
 To the same. 
 
 The King is so good. He is altogether lovely. Do 
 keep tight hold of His promises, dear ; they are sure. 
 His forgiveness is so specially sweet to me just now. 
 Look at the horizon of unlimitable pardon, "as far as the 
 east is from the west ! so fajr . . ." is it not delicious ? 
 " Free and forgiven, and loved, you stand." 
 
 To Mr. El/gene Stock. 
 
 The Mumbles, 4/''2'^20) i88i. 
 Yours just come to the " Welsh Nest." I longed to 
 get here after work in my brother's parish, and I do think 
 there was real blessing to some of the gloomy ones ; it's 
 odd how some will stick in the ditch ! One poor body 
 exclaimed, "My husband ^Xf/S-ys fathoms it out to me 
 after he comes from church, but you have lightened me 
 most of all 1 " Another : " Well, Miss, I've puzzled it 
 
A KING'S PENHOLDER. 291 
 
 over, and I sees it clear now, and I do trust to Jesus.'' So, 
 many thanks for your real service to Miss Clay ; she is a 
 real live missionary. A more humble and devoted spirit 
 I never saw. Her prayers are up to Moses's almost ; she 
 must get Amens. She wrote from her tent ; had had 
 crowds of women clasping her hand, and saying, " Come, 
 come again." Miss C. says no Bible-woman can live 
 alone in an entirely heathen place without the protection 
 of a husband. She has already found a good Christian, 
 and her blind husband, who have begun work. 
 
 I never opened your Gleaner till a very weary day, 
 and was vexed with a Holy Cross Guild man. I had to 
 be civil, and to be candid. Didn't I give it him ! 
 
 To the same. 
 
 The Mumbles, January 2, 1882. 
 
 Thanks ; I carried the C. M. S. Almanacs three miles 
 Sunday morning, through such a gale of rain, to the 
 Sunday school where I work — often alone, for no other 
 lady will trudge as I do. A splendid class of boys, who 
 are keen for Mission news, for Archibald Shaw taught 
 them two Sundays, and left a footprint. I had to return 
 and jump into bed, and there spent my New Year's Day. 
 How delightfully you organize the Almanac texts ! 
 
 My New Year's wish for you is, that you may be the 
 King's penholder. — Yours in the same work, a few 
 notches lower, M. V. G. H. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 The Mumbles, \'^th December \%%\. 
 Thanks for your sister's thoughtful book, so well 
 worked out and in. 
 
292 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. II A VERGAL. 
 
 You printed my name once sans permission, so I have 
 done the same for you ! See preface to Starlight. That 
 is the seventh preface I have written, and I had to kneel 
 at Fanny's sofa to ask the King for the words. Now see 
 one of my ideas — " Aunt Maria's ideas," they are called. 
 
 Starlight has F. R. H.'s " Marching Orders " in it, 
 and other sweet last words, so I wish to send a copy to 
 all your missionaries, masculine and feminine. How shall 
 I do it ? Shall copies be sent to Salisbury House, or 
 addresses to Nisbet ? Of course I pay post either way. 
 It will be so delightful to send a King's gleam all round 
 the world. How many hundred copies will it take ? I 
 shall also send copies to Islington College. I do thank 
 God for giving me the idea to print " Tell it out," with 
 the music, as a prelude to F.'s " Marching Orders ; " and 
 after them I give one of my dear father's missionary 
 hymns. All this idea came out of a tiff with Sankey ! 
 He asked leave to print a mutilated hash of " Tell it 
 out," omitting all the 8-line words and music for this 
 line of his own, " Let the song n^er cease ! " And I fear 
 old Eve was in me, and I said " No, it must go as 
 F. R. H. wrote it, or not at all." Then I felt sorry I did 
 not let even a bad version of it go, and then I thought to 
 put it in Starlight, and telegraphed just in time. 
 
 Note.- — [From the C. M. S. Intelligencer for February 
 i882.]"Starhght through the Shadows," bythe lateFrances 
 Ridley Havergal (London : J. Nisbet & Co.), is primarily 
 "a daily book for invalids," planned by the lamented 
 authoress as a special work for 1879, but not finished 
 whep "the Master's home call" came for her in the 
 summer of that year, and now published just as she left 
 it. With it are bound up some outlines of addresses pre- 
 pared for her classes and meetings of young women and 
 others, which are indeed .beautifully suggestive ; and also 
 the stirring papers entitled " Marching Orders, 'Nvhich 
 she wrote for the C. M. Gleaner in that same last year of 
 her life. It will interest our readers to hear that Miss 
 
MARCHING ORDERS. 293 
 
 Maria V. G. Havergal, to whom the whole Church of 
 Christ is already so deeply indebted for the Memoir 
 of her sister, and who has now edited this posthumous 
 production of that sister's facile and gracious pen, has 
 presented 500 copies of " Starlight through the Shadows " 
 to the Church Missionary Society, to be sent (at her own 
 expense) to all the Society's missionaries, and to the 
 native clergy acquainted with English. That they will 
 value a gift so generously given, we are sure ; and we 
 know that they cannot please the donor better than by 
 teaching to all the Native congregations a:nd schools, 
 Frances Havergal's missionary hymn, "Tell it out," 
 which is prefixed, with its proper tune, to the papers on 
 "Marching Orders" in this volume. 
 
 The message sent to each missionary : — 
 
 From 
 FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL'S SISTER 
 
 (MARIA V. G. H.) 
 
 To the Missionaries of the Church 
 
 Missionary Society. 
 
 MAY THE " STARLIGHT OF HIS 
 
 PROMISES, AND THE SUNLIGHT OF HIS 
 
 PRESENCE, CHEER AND BRIGHTEN 
 
 YOUR PATHWAY. 
 
 F. R. H.'s Study, 
 Caswell Bay, near S\vansea. 
 
 fanuary^ \lZz 
 
294 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Lynchmere, Hertford, 
 June 14, 1 885. 
 
 You are a reality now, instead of C. M. S. essence ! I 
 am thankful you gave me a C. M. S. blessing on the 
 steps of that House Beautiful. The dome of St. Paul's 
 photographed itself on my mind, and with it the thought 
 that soon we shall be standing where there is no temple, 
 no veil, no shadows, and the nations gathered there by 
 the C. M. S. workers, home workers as well as the out- 
 stations. 
 
 And I never said "Thank you!" but I do mean it 
 heartily ; your Bible studies make me wish to be young 
 again, and teach. You do compress your thoughts 
 admirably, and compressed thought expands with brain_ 
 digestion. I like your chapter on the Ladder, and the 
 "Lucky Fellow" chapter is quite a hit. The book seems to 
 amuse me, not wrongfully, but racily. I am much better, 
 — not near the Land of Beulah. 
 
 To Mrs. Matthews. 
 
 February 27, 1S82. 
 
 I try to answer by return of post, else I get so 
 oppressed and sleepless with postal pressure ; but since 
 Christmas health is returning, by God's mercy. 
 
 Ah, yes, I know all about it, and better still, Jesus 
 knows. I will just tell you two or three things that com- 
 forted me, and may they be His whisper to you: I am 
 sure He loves you by this " setting apart." " Make 
 straight in the desert a highway for our God." So in the 
 desert of loneliness, the unfilled place, the desert aching 
 comes. It is His Voice, "Comfort ye," etc. God will fill 
 the empty places left by our dear ones. 
 
" T WILL TAKE AWAY ALL THY TIN." 295 
 
 One does so go back to lost days and moments. Often 
 when grief seemed unbearable, the simple words, " Hush 
 me, Lord Jesus," have brought His human tenderness so 
 near. 
 
 I am selecting more poems of Fanny's for print ; also, 
 if well enough, treasures of her letters. For some 
 reasons, I did not in the " Memorials " fully show her severe 
 home discipline after papa's death, but think I shall now. 
 
 My dear friend, just lie still in Jesus, and take F.'s 
 words, " More grace, and for you." 
 
 Excuse more, writing is so bad for me, and letters come 
 from all over the world ! 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Your husband's illness is a sore trial, but your dear 
 Lord is watching you and your dear one in the furnace. 
 " I will take away all thy tin." Dear F. said that is our 
 fair appearances, — tin is so like silyer, but must all be 
 purged away. The dear Hand does it all, the same that 
 plucks us as brands out of the burning. Zech. iii. 3-7 
 is such a sweet connection with John x. 27, 28. Once 
 plucked out, we shall never be plucked away out of the 
 dear Hand. Ah ! that Hand felt the scorching flame 
 for us. 
 
 To her Brother. 
 
 2 Bank Terrace, Llandilo, 
 August 6, 1 883. 
 
 I did not think I should live to write this date again, 
 and send you every loving wish. Truly both you and 
 I have daily reminders that we live on the edge of 
 eternity. More and more it seems to me the one great 
 life business is to make our calling and election sure. I 
 
.296, LETTERS FROM M. K G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 suppose that means, to see that we have effectually 
 received and obeyed God's call, and by the evident signs 
 of the Holy Spirit working in us, making God's secret 
 purpose of election sure in our own case. I like what 
 an old woman said, " I was so bad I could not have 
 chosen God, if He had not chosen me." "According as 
 He hath chosen us in Him, that we should be holy and 
 without blame before Him in love." And yet with this 
 high standard, I am sure I can only take the publican's 
 place, and cry, " God be merciful to me a sinner ;" and if 
 it were not for the abundant pardon, I should have 
 no hope. " Forgiven until now " is such a nice verse, and 
 as F. put it, — 
 
 " O precious blood ! Lord, let it rest on me ; 
 1 ask not only pardon from my King, 
 ' Bui cleansing from my Priest j I come to Thee 
 
 Just as I came at first, 
 A sinful, helpless thing." 
 
 I am sorry to hear some one has said that Fanny's works 
 were unsound. I do most seriously challenge and deny 
 this statement I could copy written proof to the contrary, 
 from bishops, priests, and deacons, besides professors 
 and reviewers. There has hardly been a Church Con- 
 gress or Conference since her death, but her name has 
 been mentioned with the deepest respect, and her works 
 spoken of as "unrivalled manuals of Christian literature," 
 also as "a complete body of divinity." A very eminent 
 man said her " Thoughts of God " rose to Miltonic 
 grandeur ; while the testimony even of some Roman 
 Catholics is striking, and how they read her books ! 
 
 Because of her high standard of holy living, which she 
 carried out most literally, and her high standard of spirit 
 life, some may object, but there is no truth that has not 
 been assailed ; and I do say that there is not one sen- 
 tence in F.'s books that can be proved unsound by Holy 
 Scripture or the Thirty-nine Articles. Mind, I do not 
 think that any manuals of devotion, any comments on 
 the Bible, should do away with our own daily search 
 
A IVELC03IE HOME. 297 
 
 of God's Word. How her words have been blessed in 
 leading others to the same holy, happy life, is simply 
 miraculous, and eternity alone can reveal it. I must stop, 
 
 but I do wish to read what I say. 
 
 Since coming here 1 am better, and it is quieter than 
 at The Mumbles ; I cannot stand noise. I fear this very 
 damp, misty weather tries you, and I arn so sorry for the 
 hay here,' so much is still out. Give my love all round, 
 from your sibter, Maria. 
 
 To Mrs. F. B. Grant. 
 
 WlNTBRDYNE, 2Irf Jan. 1884. 
 
 We were all glad to receive such good accounts of 
 your welcome home, and certainly, like a good wife, you 
 write more of your husband than yourself. There is 
 much advantage in having simple village people, and 
 I have no doubt they will thankfully receive your pastoral 
 visits. May you both come to them in the fulness of the 
 blessing of the gospel of Christ. We love that old word 
 " gospel," don't we ? — God's good news to the lost and 
 perishing ; and realizing for myself what it was to be lost, 
 makes one rejoice and cling to salvation and the precious 
 blood that cleanses and atones. I so often find poor 
 people listen when I tell them of dear Fanny's own text, 
 I John i. 7, and how she clung to it to the last. 
 
 I am pleased you told me your need of her books, and 
 request you to do so always. I now send some cases in 
 blue of her prose and poetry. 
 
 So sorry for all your detentions and trouble. Still the 
 King's word must come true, " Nevertheless afterward 
 it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness," — "zV 
 singular number ; so, separate little afterwards, till the one 
 grand " afterward " dawneth. Is not the Lord good to 
 scrape away our " tin" ? So much of my services I thought 
 silver, were only tin, so the cleansing blood is more and 
 more precious. 
 
298 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 I like your lines on the little ones and on holding firm. 
 I keep up, down to breakfast, and open my window at 
 four or five. 
 
 To a Godson, L. B. 
 
 WiNTERDYNE, April I, 1884. 
 
 I wish we could have a little talk instead of this letter. 
 You may be sure I am thinking about you as the day 
 ' comes near when you will promise what I once promised 
 for you. 
 
 Think much of the inward ' grace promised you, even 
 the gift of God's Holy Spirit. No outward form has 
 grace in it, and I do so hope you are quite clear about 
 Baptism as being the outward rite of admission into 
 Christ's visible Church, so that you need to be born 
 again of the Spirit, so as by that new birth to be united 
 by faith to the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 It is just a real definite transaction between your soul 
 and the Lord Jesus, — you coming to Him, you telling 
 Him you do desire to be His child. His soldier, and 
 offering your heart for the blessed Spirit to come in and 
 dwell with you — in you. And as surely as you say 
 honestly, Lord Jesus, take me, wash me, sanctify me, 
 so surely He does His part. He confirms you ; the 
 :^ishop is only the visible hand. Yes, the very hand of 
 the Lord Jesus will surely then descend in blessing you, 
 and shedding in your heart the Holy Ghost to strengthen 
 and keep you. 
 
 I know there must be many temptations and diffi- 
 culties ; even some around you may hinder you. But 
 cheer up ; if you choose Christ, He will stand by you, 
 —yes, quite near to you, His poor little soldier. And, 
 L., I feel sure the Lord Jesus speaks to those who 
 listen ; I mean some promise, some verse out of the 
 Bible, comes to our heart as just what we want, some 
 text that helps us at the minute. I hope to send you 
 
COMFORT AND COURAGE. 299 
 
 and your brother a book, and some cards my sister 
 F. wrote, and also some for you to give any oi your 
 schoolfellows. 
 
 To her Eldest Sisttr at St. Moritz in the Engadine, the 
 day before her operation in Birmingham. 
 
 Jtily 1884. 
 Dearest M., — I do specially want you to be quite 
 happy about what you have just heard — will take place 
 before this reaches you. I am so wonderfully strength- 
 ened and supported. I have slept better than ever 
 every night since Dr. M. told me. Do not make the 
 slightest change in your winter plans even if I do not 
 go on favourably ; you are best among God's solitudes. 
 Last night I had a most comfortable view of the gladness 
 it must be to the Lord Jesus to have borne death in our 
 place, instead of us. It came from feeling so glad that 
 this inherited disease has come to me, instead of any 
 of my dear sisters ; it is nice to be a scape-goat, and 
 you see I have natural courage to bear without the least 
 fear. Also, with such a doctor and nurse, I want my 
 dear sisters to see that it is wiser and better for me and 
 them not to have any one else. Dr. M. has taken rooms 
 at No. 9 Francis Road, Edgbaston, and Mrs. L. knew 
 about F. R. H., and is delighted to have me ! I shall 
 be well looked after. Now, please think of me in the 
 Land of Beulah, just resting in the King's arbour, and 
 there from His own hand to receive the chastening for 
 my profit ; and I know whom I have believed, and just 
 rest on the precious blood to cleanse and gladden me 
 now and ever. — Your loving Maria. 
 
300 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 To J. and S. H. 
 
 yd Nov. 1884. 
 
 It was impossible to answer your query till to-day. 
 E. Clay has taken her passage again conditionally on the 
 25th. She has been brave indeed, itinerating to 274 
 new villages, over bridgeless rivers and sandy holes in 
 unmade roads. She carries her mattress and cooking 
 utensils ; and, as she often saw dirty hands put dirty 
 sweetmeats in the milk, her goat goes along with her, 
 and its little kid on the top of the bullock-cart. Fancy 
 her going with only a blind Scripture reader and his wife 
 to quite new places, and she wishes to visit 1500 villages ! 
 She goes to the head Baboo and gets leave to see his 
 wife, and then into minor courts. She has already 
 built two churches and two houses. She has never 
 received any salary, and only has her conveyance 
 expenses paid in India, not her passage money. She 
 belongs to the Church of England Zenana Society, in 
 close connection with the C. M. S. . She still suffers 
 from deafness and roaring noises in her head, but is 
 better, and is just waiting God's will. I trust jhe will 
 yet go. 
 
 I have been like a carpet-bag, squeezing in more than 
 it will hold, but nothing to your crowded duties. I 
 know how desolate your evenings must be.; but, O happy 
 mother ! safe for ever on the other side with the Lord. 
 I hope you keep up, like dear, good pilgrims, hastening 
 " onwards and upwards." 
 
 To J. and S. II. 
 
 December 1884. , 
 
 Thanks for your love on Nov. 15, and the mittens. 
 Oh, S., what fine stitches ! I do wear them, and prefer 
 black. 
 
RESERVED SEATS. 301 
 
 " Precious faith '' gets tried ; poor tired ones, your time 
 to "sit still" will come. I never saw before tiie origin 
 of reserved seats ! It is St. Peter's idea, i Pet. i. 4, 
 " reserved in heaven for you," you individually, so no one 
 else shall or can sit in your reserved seat. You hold 
 the ticket, i John i. 7 ; the blood is the passport. As 
 the stewards pass you up and up, oh ! wliat will it be to 
 pass up the shining ranks and see the seated, rested 
 dear ones, and sit down with them in our reserved seats 
 there ! 
 
 To Miss W. 
 
 Fei. 9, 1 886. 
 
 Your note is indeed a treasure, dear friend, and how 
 singularly the Lord is answering the prayer ! 
 
 I am often thinking of you, and know all is well; the 
 Lord will strengthen her on the bed of languishing, and 
 make all her bed. And now you have reached that 
 sweet word " carry ; " because you are helpless, He must 
 be carrying you step by step nearer home. And then 
 the " I,"^even I will carry you, not trusting any one else 
 to do that soul-carrying. 
 
 I do rejoice you have tender human h^mds to minister 
 to you, and I kriow true love moves them. How differ- 
 ent to a rich invalid lady I hear of, who has positively 
 suffered from a cruel though highly-paid nurse. 
 
 Just my love, — the card is done by a dear invalid. 
 
 To Miss E. M. 
 
 SiDMOUTH, March 2^th, 1886. 
 The times are very dark, one really does not know 
 what comes next; only the Lord reigns, and He will put 
 the crooked straight. What comfort there s in Isaiah 
 
302 LETTERS FROM M. V. G. HAVERGAL. 
 
 xl. T, 2, 3. I hope you* are encouraging yourself, dear, 
 in the Lord ; such peace as we do that ! and He knows, 
 He cares, He loves. 
 
 I have been speaking at' the Zenana meetings here 
 since October ; Thursday is my next day, and I think of 
 Rev. iii. 19 to the end, — our dear Lord's own words, 
 straight down from His loving heart to ours. Will you 
 take them as His birthday message, dear ? " As many 
 as I love," etc.; and then, " Behold, I stand ; " — " if any 
 man " must mean us. Then let us open the deep- 
 down door in our heart, and welcome in such a guest, 
 " sup with Him," — interchange of closesMove; think of 
 His caring ior our poor foolish company ! But, as dear F. 
 said, " the dear Lord wants our poor love to add to His 
 cup of joy." Then the "cup" goes on from time into 
 eternity ! .when the real bridal feast begins, and never, 
 never ends. Then how strengthening that promise, " To 
 him that overcometh," — it implies heaps of fights and 
 failures, but certain victory through Him that loved us. 
 " My throne," — no king takes even his children to share 
 that ; but our King promises it — " makes slaves the 
 partners of His throne." That dear old hymn often 
 sings to me, " Hark, my soul," with " Partners of my 
 throne shall be ; Say, poor sinner, lovest thou ine ? " 
 Yes, yes, dear Lord, we do, we do ! 
 
 To Mrs. Ji. B. M. 
 
 WiNTERDYNE, Oct. 1 6, 1 886. 
 
 You DEAR Friend ! — I can see your winged arms so 
 loving and true ! I have not forgotten my missionary 
 promises, but kept hiding away in Wales, and could not 
 trouble dear sister Ellen to hunt. I write to you, not to 
 your husband, because you can write his letters, but not 
 his sermons. Oh! those "fresh oil" sermons, and the 
 dear, plain services " understanded of the people ! " I do 
 
A SPECIAL LEASE OF LIFE. 303 
 
 pray on Saturdays for God's messengers to be filled, and 
 then on Mondays that they may be rested and refreshed. 
 But business — it will give me real pleasure to get 
 my father's music to "From Greenland's Icy Moun- 
 tains " copied, and my young copyist will be so thankful ; 
 or I will get it printed. So no huts and ifs ; there will be 
 none " up there." And I don't forget about his music to 
 Abdool Messeeh's " Beloved Saviour ; " all in time. 
 
 Sister Miriam sent me part of your last letter, so I see 
 • how you want some little candlesticks, and He who 
 walketh in the midst of all His lights knows, and in His 
 time will send. So I hope the need will stir up latent 
 sparks in some unlikely ones. Tell me if the two dear 
 aunts are really in glory. I do so think of the dear Miss 
 
 C s, my love, please ; but I ought not to write, my 
 
 arm lives in a sling, till disobedient ! Now, don't look 
 dismal, you darling. I believe the dear Master's hand 
 has a chloroform touch, and specially exempts me from 
 what I ought to have. My doctor was astonished on my 
 return from Wales (my Patmos) at the retardation. So I 
 said, " Then, doctor, I am not wanted in heaven yet ! " 
 He replied, " No ; you i:iave a special lease of life ; you 
 have marvellous vitality and recuperative powers." It 
 seems to me as if I were snatched back for more special 
 training and purging ; all the tin must come off. Oh, to 
 specially glorify my dear Lord ! Remember me to good 
 Mrs. B., and tell your mothers, the Lord Jesus never 
 fails those who trust in Him. 
 
 "Just to trust Him, that is all." 
 
 I cannot write or send to all Sidmouth friends. Don't 
 tell I write, please, or the dear tiresome saints will 
 wonder I do not send to them. 
 
CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 My dear sister Maria's Autobiography and her 
 Diary carry on the history of her life at intervals 
 to the spring of 1887. She joined me at Weston- 
 super-Mare, February 3 ; but to enable "me to 
 receive another relative, she afterwards kindly 
 moved into Wellington Terrace, and, March 21, 
 went to her last earthly home (nearly opposite mine), 
 3 Paragon Villas, under a most attentive landlady. 
 In the same house Istayed in May and June, our 
 dear niece, Alice S., my maid, and Maria's former 
 trained nurse, all devoting our whole time to her. 
 Alas ! we could do little to relieve her terrible 
 suffering, of which the most distressing and ob- 
 stinate symptom was sickness, almost incessant in 
 the last five weeks ; but she bore all with wonderful - 
 patience, and with great consideration for her 
 attendants. 
 
 For two months after her arrival at Weston- 
 super-Mare she was able to walk and drive out, and 
 though she could no longer visit the sick or poor 
 
 P4 
 
USING OPPORTUNITII^S. 305 
 
 in {heir homes, she continued her wayside minis- 
 tries, speaking of the never-dying soul and the 
 eVer-living Saviour to those whom she met when 
 resting on a seat, or standing to view the expanse 
 of sea and sky. Dear Maria also took great interest 
 in the Cabmen's Rest, which was near her 
 apartments, sometimes taking light refreshments 
 and books for the men. One of them (C. Hill), in 
 gratitude, carved on wood with an ornamental 
 border the text, " God is our refuge and strength," 
 and sent it to her when no longer able to leave the 
 house. 
 
 As another instance of making use of every 
 opportunity, I may mention that a workman being 
 required to make a little repair in her room, our 
 niece A. E. S. thus writes about it : " Dear aunt 
 asked me to call him back, saying, 'I must 
 speak to him and give him a book.' I only 
 caught some words about 'being washed white 
 in the precious blood bringing such comfort 
 when you come to lie on a dying bed.' He was 
 the last person to whom she really spoke a word 
 for Jesus." 
 
 Dear Maria conversed but little in her illness, 
 and could not often bear to be read to, or to receive 
 any messages. Sometimes we repeated texts, but 
 generally her own communings with God seemed 
 sufficient for her soul's peace. Her life had spoken, 
 
3o6 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 and so we needed not perpetual assurances from 
 her lips that she was "still looking unto Jesus, 
 the Author and the Finisher of (her) faith." 
 
 The Mildmay nurse arrived April 25, and till 
 May 12, when the practice was given up from the 
 patient's exhaustion, she read a Psalm to her 
 every morning, and Maria would then pray aloud, 
 fervently entreating blessings on all her near and 
 dear ones, and embracing also the general subjects 
 of Christian prayer. 
 
 From the nurse's memoranda I copy a few 
 items : — 
 
 On reading Psalm xv. Miss Havergal said, " I 
 cannot claim the blessing of that Psalm, but I just 
 creep to the Saviour's feet, the lowest of all ; I 
 need the continual cleansing of the precious blood." 
 She prayed for all who would be preparing sermons 
 for the morrow, that they might preach Christ in 
 the power of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 On Psalm xvii. she spoke of the tenderness 
 of God's love, and on " the apple of the eye " 
 shrinking from being touched, and then prayed 
 that all might love Jesus more, and also for 
 Mildmay. 1 
 
 On Psalm xviii., "According to my righteous- 
 ness," said she had none, she had to come down 
 lower and lower; she prayed -in her father's 
 words : 
 
STRENGTH AND TRUST. 307 
 
 " ' Just as Thou wilt, O Lord, do Thou ! 
 I to Thy sovereign purpose bow. ' 
 
 Only let me glorify Thee ; O give me patience in 
 suffering." 
 
 On Psalm xxi. she spoke of the word " strength " 
 being so often used by David ; of his trust in God 
 for strength in battle, strength to endure, and that 
 God proved to be his strength. 
 
 On Psalm xxvi. 12, said that she could not 
 now bless the Lord in the congregation here, but 
 soon in the great congregation above ; but she 
 would want a long time with the Lord Jesus alone 
 first, she had so much to tell Him, and so much to 
 be forgiven ; that she had given Him so much 
 trouble, but she came to His feet like Mary 
 Magdalene. 
 
 On Psalm xxvii. 2, said she had no earthly 
 enemies to fear ; supposed enemies often meant 
 sins. Said she was black, but then thought of 
 the verse, " I am black but comely," and " perfect 
 through my comeliness," which showed it must be 
 all Jesus from first to last. How often she had 
 disobeyed Him by making her own plans ; one of 
 her besetting sins was interference. Said "Miss 
 Clay will have a missionary's crown, but only to 
 cast it at Jesus' feet." She prayed for patience to 
 wait God's time, often saying so touchingly, " Only 
 a little longer." 
 
308 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 On Psalm xxviii., " Christ is not only ouf 
 strength, but our saving strength. 'He looked 
 and there was none to help, so His own arm 
 brought salvation.'" Prayed, "Dear Lord, undertake 
 for us ; may we learn all Thou wouldst teach us." 
 She gave thanks for sleep, and prayed for all in 
 churches, chapels, and meetings, for Sunday-school 
 teachers, and for sick ones in their rooms, that 
 Jesus would meet with them. 
 
 Psalm XXX. — Said David must have been glad 
 when the sackcloth was taken off, something like a 
 little child with a clean white dress. Expressed a 
 little disappointment about finding herself likely 
 to be here some time, and was pleased with the 
 thought that there might be a loophole somewhere 
 for her, saying, " Loopholes into Glory " would be a 
 pretty title for a book. 
 
 Psalm xxxi. was read to her after a night of 
 severe pain, and she thanked God for a little 
 ease, and just remembered relatives and friends in 
 prayer; was too weary for more. She said, "Don't 
 tell Mrs. C. how bad the pain has been, it will 
 distress her so. How could I bear for the dear 
 loving hearts at Winterdyne to see my suffering ? " 
 When told that Mr. Shaw was coming that evening, 
 she was very pleased, and would get up and make 
 the very best of herself for him. A frame sent by 
 Mrs. H. Shaw with the words, "With His stripes 
 
THE LAST CHURCH SERVICE. 309 
 
 we are healed," being placed where she could see 
 it, she remarked, " He gave His back to the 
 smiters, and did not turn away from one stroke. 
 Both Mr. Shaw and Mr. Hunt talk of God's 'ever- 
 lasting love,' and that comforts me. " 
 
 Speaking of Heb. xii. 22-24, Miss Havergal said, 
 " ' Ye are come to Mount Zion,' etc. I am so glad 
 it speaks of 'the blood of sprinkling;' no getting 
 to heaven without that ! " 
 
 May 12. — No more Psalms were read to Miss 
 
 Havergal after this date. 
 
 Mary Farrington. 
 
 The last time my dear sister attended divine 
 service was in Trinity Church, April 17, at 3 P.M., 
 for the Litany and Holy Communion specially 
 for invalids. Before going, she said, " Will you 
 forgive me a sin against you years ago .■" I cannot 
 go to the Lord's Table till I have told you of it' 
 Of course I replied, I would forgive her if it had 
 been seventy - seven times, and she went away 
 quite satisfied, and alone, because I was tired 
 with the morning service, and had no idea she 
 iiitended going in her increased weakness. After- 
 wards she said to me, " My peace flows in like 
 a river.'' 
 
 April 22. — Dear Maria called to say good-bye to 
 three sisters, formerly our Astley friends, to whom 
 
310 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 we are bound by ties of love and grief, and this 
 was her last visit to any one. She then thought 
 she was going to Winterdyne in a few days, as her 
 kind brother-in-law wished that he and his children 
 might minister to her in her remaining days, and 
 that she might be nearer^ to her favourite doctor. 
 But she was never able to undertake the journey, 
 becoming so rapidly worse. 
 
 April 24 was a day of much suffering. She said, 
 "Whatever should I do now, if I had not the 
 promises to rest on ! Heathen that I am ! I have 
 not read a. word of my Bible to-day." It was 
 answered, " Who would expect you to do so ? and 
 God is not a hard taskmaster." I think from this 
 time she was never able to read anything. She 
 continued, " But texts pour into my mind, and I 
 like to think the Holy Spirit is teaching me ; Jesus 
 is near, I seem to have His very self with me." 
 
 Sunday, May i. — Dear Maria's pulse was 120°, 
 and temperature 102°, and she was so very ill that 
 we telegraphed in the evening for her Birmingham 
 doctor, who arrived the next day, and stayed the 
 night. He said, that so far as the disease was con- 
 cerned, she might live two or three months, but that 
 the heart was so weak, life might be cut short any 
 day. Dr. Malins' new prescriptions relieved her 
 temporarily, but she did not leave her bed again 
 for some days. 
 
AS HAPPY AS A QVEEl^. 311 
 
 May 4. — She had a good night after taking 
 bromidia, and said, " Do not trouble about me, I 
 am as happy as a queen, and happier. I am very 
 glad it is not my jubilee ! " On showing her a flower, 
 she said, " I do so like to think over the wild-flowers, 
 and where I have seen them growing in Wales and 
 Switzerland ; it amuses me for hours and hours." 
 
 She gave me directions about her funeral at 
 Astley, and for the inscription on a foot-stone, as 
 there is no room for another on her father's tomb. 
 On saying some friends wished to see her, she 
 said, " I can't think why friends can't wait to see 
 one another in heaven." Her feeling of exhaustion 
 and nervousness made her shrink even from the 
 Christian converse she formerly delighted in. 
 
 May 6. — Her faithful friend. Miss Elizabeth Clay, 
 came for a ten days' visit, though herself an invalid 
 from the effects of her Indian labours. Dear Maria 
 remarked to her at different times, " I have been 
 thinking so much of — ' Fear not, thou worm Jacob ;' 
 a worm has no hands, and cannot cling ; he is near 
 the gate, and cannot open it. I go as a sinner to 
 my Saviour, His promises have so comforted me, 
 they have all come true ; I have felt that He has 
 been leading me all right. Except perhaps in 
 moments of great pain, I have never regretted 
 having this disease." 
 
 May 10. — She said, " Dear E. wants to go back to 
 
312 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 her work in India, and I want to fly away at once ; 
 but we would not choose, and she prayed that we 
 might have no will of our own." Another time — 
 "Be Thou their arm every morning ! Remember 
 His love is fixed upon you." 
 
 " Come and look at me as often as you like, 
 dear Elizabeth ; a laugh does me good some- 
 times." 
 
 May 13. — "The pain was so bad this' morning, I 
 could have screamed, but I lay still and told the 
 Lord I did not know how to bear it, and after a 
 little while it got better. How nice to think of the 
 glorious bodies ! ' We that are in this tabernacle 
 do groan, be'ng burdened.' ' He will not lay upon 
 you more than you are able to bear.' Jesus Him- 
 self says to you and to me, ' It is I ; ' those three 
 words I would not part with, and I believe them. 
 He is now fulfilling to us all the promises, because 
 we are in great tribulation. I have a joyful hope 
 and longing to be with Him, to see Him and never 
 grieve Him more. I abhor the Perfectionist views ; 
 in self is no good, and evil thoughts even now 
 trouble me ; I only trust His blood and righteous- 
 ness." 
 
 In the following week dear Maria was easier on 
 the whole, but had some heart attacks of great 
 exhaustion. She usually disliked to hear street 
 music, but one day the town band played Handel's 
 
SJNS OF IGNORANCE. 373 
 
 " And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed," 
 which she much enjoyed, beating time with her 
 hand ; and when sending out some silver com- 
 mended their playing that style of music, and re- 
 marked, " I shall soon have music for nothing in 
 heaven." After May 14 she never left her bed again 
 even for a few minutes. 
 
 May 15, Sunday. — Poor Maria had a bad night, 
 and much pain and headache all day. In the 
 evening she revived a little, and asked if I re- 
 membered any text in the Bible, or anything in 
 other books, which showed thai believers in illness 
 were kept from dying and going to heaven by any 
 sin undiscovered, and therefore unconfessed. I 
 said, " Decidedly not," giving my reasonSj to which 
 she agreed, but said, " I have been teazing myself 
 lest there should be some childish sin or something 
 I did not know to be sin.'' Of course I rejoined 
 that sins of ignorance were atoned for as well as 
 others, and after more talk of the kind, she said, 
 " Well, now you have comforted me- a little, you 
 may go, and I will lie quiet." But she returned 
 to the subject the next day, saying, " There are 
 two or three great sins I could scarcely think I 
 was forgiven for, last night." I reminded her that 
 if the Lord Jesus atoned for any of her sins. He 
 did so for all, and that it was the "accuser of the 
 brethren," who took advantage of her weakness to 
 
314 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 instil these doubts. " Yes," she said ; " but now I 
 do think I can lay all my sins on Jesus, I rest on 
 the simple foundation truths of the Bible. Tell 
 your dear J. I often think of his bright face, and 
 pray that, taking Christ for his own in life, he may 
 find the peace in death I have, and tell your dear 
 C. the same." 
 
 May 1 8. — After some "burning pain," she asked 
 me to read a letter from Giles, and said she found 
 his remarks very comforting, and then referred to 
 the Parable of the Prodigal Son, saying that, like 
 herself, he was not only forgiven, but the best robe 
 was put upon him. In the morning, thinking her- 
 self very near death, she asked me to telegraph for 
 our dear niece, Alice S., who arrived the same 
 evening, and proved a great help and comfort. 
 It was well dear Maria did not know that weary 
 weeks were still before her. 
 
 May 19. — I went to dear Maria at 4 A.M., and 
 found her very exhausted after sickness, but 
 whispered that it was Ascension Da)', and re- 
 peated the Collect. She merely nodded assent ; 
 she seldom speaks, only sometimes utters a 
 sentence of faith, humility, or love, or care for 
 others. 
 
 Afay 20. — She rallied wonderfully after the 
 dreadful pain yesterday, and saw her nephew, the 
 Rev. W. H. S., for a few minutes. 
 
"MY HEAAT FAILETIJ." 315 
 
 May 21. — After a severe attack of sickness, I 
 said, " It is one step nearer home ; " not expecting 
 any reply, but she exclaimed aloud, " Thank you." 
 A furious gale was raging, but she has not noticed 
 noises for some time, though formerly so sensitive 
 to them. In the evening, after a long nap, she 
 said, " I have been thinking of that very nice text, 
 ' To depart and be with Christ, which is far better ; ' 
 I wish we could all go in a lump together." At 
 10 P.M., after a sudden attack, the heart seemed 
 failing, and the nurse thought life might end in a 
 few minutes. The pulse rallied ; but it continued 
 to fluctuate through the night ; none of us un- 
 dressed, as she continued terribly ill. Once she 
 said, as if to herself, " Victory through the blood," 
 and " The gift of God is eternal life." Once 
 again in the night we thought her about to 
 depart, when I quoted a text at intervals, and 
 the verse, 
 
 " Lo ! He beckons from on high, 
 Fearless to His presence fly ; 
 Thine the merit of His blood, 
 Thine the righteousness of God. " 
 
 But she took no notice of anything. About 7 A.M. 
 she revived, and continued better all day and the 
 two following ones. On the 24th she actually 
 tried to sing Fanny's lost piece, " Behold, God 
 is my salvation, etc. etc., therefore with joy shall 
 
3i6 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 ye draw water out of the wells of salvation" 
 ^ (Isa. vi. 2, 3). 
 
 The next night she described as " awful ; " the 
 following one was not so restless, and in the morning 
 she said to me, " I am not going to heaven yet, but 
 I have quite resigned myself to the will of God ; 
 what He appoints must be right, God often gives 
 me beautiful texts and thoughts, but I am too weak 
 to say them out." 
 
 May 29, Whit-Sunday. — Notwithstanding con- 
 tinued suffering in many ways, dear M.'s pulse be- 
 came stronger, and sank to 1 10°, and Alice read Psalm 
 cxlv. to her, and she was more inclined to talk. 
 
 I saw little of dear Maria froni this time, being 
 ill myself till June 7, when she seemed easier and 
 brighter than usual, and, hearing the Rev. W. 
 Hunt's voice, she asked for him, and he came in 
 and prayed with her, which she spoke of after- 
 wards as being very comforting. (She always lay 
 with door and window open night and day, and 
 till the hot weather came our fur cloaks and rugs 
 were in requisition when sitting with her.) 
 
 June 8. — As she had rallied sufficiently to be 
 carried by four people into another room, she was 
 placed on a water-bed, and soon recovered from 
 the faintness caused by the motion. Two or three 
 average days and nights followed ; after a severe 
 attack she said, " No one knows how fearful this is." 
 
AN APrROPRlATE HYMN. 317 
 
 I suggested the often-repeated comfort, " Jesus 
 knows," and she referred to it the next day, saying, 
 "You can't think how often little words you say 
 like that come back and soothe me. The word is 
 has been a support to me all night ! ' There is 
 forgiveness with thee.'" I repeated a hymn by 
 the Rev. J. East, which our father set to music in 
 his youth, and as I have not seen it elsewhere in 
 print, and it is the last she ever heard and admired, 
 I transcribe it : — 
 
 " Jesus, didst Thou bleed and languish 
 On tlie cross in dying anguish, 
 
 For the ills that I have done ? 
 Then, while on this earth I tarry, 
 Eve and matin gales shall carry 
 
 Grateful praises to Thy throne. 
 
 " And when I no more shall number 
 Days and nights, but sweetly slumber 
 
 In the grave which Thou hast blest. 
 While my flesh in hope reposes. 
 Till the day the tomb encloses. 
 
 With Thee, Saviour, I shall rest." 
 
 June 12, Sunday. — I was struck with a change 
 in dear Maria's face, it looked so death-like ; but she 
 soon opened her eyes, and said, " None but Christ ! 
 I could not do without Jesus now, cling to Him." 
 I answered by the lines, — 
 
 " Nothing in my hand I bring. 
 Simply to Thy cross I cling." 
 
3 IS CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 June 13. — She told me she had been following 
 A. D. Shaw in the night on his journey through 
 the African deserts, and wishing he could have the, 
 nice cool water she has, and she had been pray- 
 ing for him a long time. Afterwards her mind 
 wandered, and it continued to do so frequently 
 till the end came, being often frightened and 
 perplexed, and she talked more than for many ' 
 day? past. 
 
 '3une 18. — Dear Maria's mind seemed clearer, 
 and she asked for different kinds of fruit, which 
 fortunately were at hand or were procured in a few 
 minutes, but she only tasted and then rejected 
 them. For weeks she had refused the delicacies 
 sent by kind frie.nds, and for the last month she 
 had taken nothing in the ordinary way except ice 
 or lemonade. She had become very emaciated, 
 and it was evident the end of the weary journey 
 was at hand, throughout which my diary records 
 many minor miseries, besides the restless feverish- 
 ness, the pain and sickness, and other distressing 
 symptoms ; but our feelings need not be harrowed 
 by dwelling on these, now that perfect rest is given, 
 though we may glorify God for the patience and 
 grace with which He enabled her to endure 
 them. 
 
 Jime 20. — She was evidently sinking, and took 
 no notice when told of a sweet note from her pastor. 
 
QUEEN VICTORIA'S JUBILEE. 319 
 
 and of texts from Miss B. at Jaffa. In the evening 
 we helped to prepare adornings for our two houses 
 on the Jubilee Day, sadly wondering whether we 
 should not arise to darkened rooms and quiet 
 weeping. 
 
 Tuesday, June 21. — The sun shone gloriously on 
 our good Queen Victoria's Jubilee. We followed 
 in thought the royal procession, the thanksgiving 
 service in Westminster Abbey, and the other 
 arrangements of that ever to be remembered day, 
 when the great heart of the nation throbbed with 
 loyalty and love, and - England's distant children 
 joined as one family in praise to the great Ruler 
 and Father of all, and in prayer for the beloved 
 Empress-Queen. 
 
 We heard the booming of artillery, the distant 
 sounds of many feet, and the rejoicing voices of 
 our township, in the quiet room where alternately 
 we watched "the footsteps of the end." We 
 felt the mighty presence of a Saviour - God 
 around us, and one of our number even imagined 
 she saw the dim outlines of ministering angels 
 waiting to convey a ransomed soul to celestial 
 regions. 
 
 The dear one lay quietly in semi-slumber nearly 
 all that long bright day, and the only words I 
 heard her utter were, " Water — Ice — Pray." 
 
 Wednesday, June 22. — Dear Maria always loved 
 
320 CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 the early morning hours, and last- summer had 
 written, " If I had a wish, it would be to hear the 
 voice of my Beloved in the very day-dawning, and 
 hear the lark's song as I wing my spirit-flight 
 upwards." And now the wish was to be realized. 
 In the e^rly dawn of that fair summer day we were 
 summoned to her room. She was then muttering 
 incoherently, and continued to do so an hour or 
 more ; then we caught at intervals, in an indistinct 
 but loud voice, these last words : " How good the 
 Lord is! — Glory, glory! — My Lord Jesus — He has 
 done it all — The First and the Last — Come — Amen, 
 amen, amen ! " Gradually the stillness of death fell, 
 her face changed, her eyes were fixed ; the nurse 
 said, " How good God is to let her go so gently ! " 
 and in a few minutes, just before six o'clock in the 
 morning, we saw that she slept in Jesus. Blessed 
 sleep ! after the long days and longer nights in 
 which we were tempted to say, " Hath the Lord 
 forgotten to be gracious ? hath He in anger shut up 
 His tender mercies ? " But now He had remem- 
 bered her in her low estate, and had taken her to 
 be with Himself for ever. 
 
 " O change, O wondrous change ! 
 Burst are the prison bars ; 
 One moment — there so low. 
 And now— beyond the stars ! " 
 
 C. B. 
 
In rich cloth, bevelled, with Portrait and Illustrations, price 6s., 
 RECORDS OF THE LIFE OF THE 
 
 REV. WM. H. HAVERGAL, M.A. 
 
 By his Daughter, JANE MIRIAM CRANE. 
 
 " ' Yet spealcGth ! ' In (he memory of those 
 To wliom he was indeed ' a living song.' " 
 
 — Frances Ridley Haveugal. 
 
 " Canon Havergal was no ordinary man. He was rich in grace as 
 well as rich in gifts. ' Who could see him and not love him ? ' asked 
 a brother pastor, his friend for many years. The readers of ' The 
 Memorials of Frances Ridley Havergal' will remember how intense 
 was her veneration for her loved father, and these pages will show 
 how justly he held the highest place in the affections of all who knew 
 him. This Biography is admirably written, and gives charming word- 
 pictures of home and parish life. The illustrations include a portrait 
 from a painting by S. Cole, and another from a bust taken by l^obert 
 Pauer, of Creuznach. Engravings are also given of Astley Church, 
 and St. Nicholas' Church, Worcester." — Church Standard. 
 
 " The Life of the Rev. W. H. Havergal (written by his daughter, 
 J. Miriam Crane) deserves to take its place with the Memoirs of 
 M'Cheyne. It has the same gracious interest, the same powerful 
 unction, the same fervour, force, tender love and practical sympathy. 
 It is written by a refined, skilful, and attractive pen. The reading 
 of such a beautiful work as this is nothing short of a means of grace. 
 Pa-stors will find in it much stimulus, inspiration, and many practical 
 hints. Young Christians will be strengthened by its perusal, and the 
 aged will read it with zest and delight. It is a biographical gem, 
 and deserves a place in every Christian home.''— Oldham Chronicle. 
 
 "HOME WOEDS" OFFICE, 1 Paternoster Buildings. 
 
LIFE AND WORKS OF 
 
 FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. 
 
 MEMORIALS OF THE LATE FRANCES RIDLEY HATER- 
 GA.L. By her Sister, Maria V. G. Havergal. With portrait and other 
 illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. Cheap edition, crown 8vo, Is. 6d. ; roan, 3s. ; 
 paper cover, 6d. 
 
 FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL— THE LAST WEEK. 78tK 
 thousand. 6d. ; paper cover, 2d. 
 
 LETTERS OF FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. Edited by 
 her sister. Crown 8vo, 5s. 
 
 STREAMLETS 0? SONG FOR THE YOUNG. Crown 8vo, 
 33. 6d. 
 
 MISS HAVERGAL'S COMPLETE POETICAL "WORKS. 2 vols. 
 
 crown Svo, 12s. 
 
 LIFE ECHOES. "With twelve illustrations of Alpine sceneiy, 
 printed in colours. Small 4to, 12s. 
 
 S"W1SS LETTERS AND ALPINE POEMS. "With twelve 
 
 cliromo-lithographs of Alpine scenery and flowers. Small 4to, 128. 
 
 ROYAL GRACE AND LOYAL GIFTS. Comprising the follow- 
 ing seven 16mo volumes, in a neat clotli case, lOs. The boolcs may be liad 
 separately, Is. each. 
 
 KEPT FOE THE MASTER'S USE. 
 
 THE ROYAL INVITATION; or. Daily Thoughts on Coming to 
 Christ. 
 
 MY KING ; or, Daily Thoughts tor the King's Children. 
 
 ROYAL COMMANDMENTS; or, Morning Thoughts for the King's 
 Servants. 
 
 ROYAL BOUNTY; or. Evening Thoughts for the King's Guests. 
 
 LOYAL RESPONSES; or. Daily Melodies for the King's Minstrels. 
 
 STARLIGHT THROUGH THE SHADOWS, and other Gleams from the 
 King's Word. 
 
LIFE AND WORKS OF FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL— continued. 
 
 LIFE CHORDS. Beuig her Earlier and Later Poems. With 
 twelve chromo-lithoffi-aphs of Alpine scenery, in one of which is introduced 
 a Portrait of the Author in the ninth year of her age. Small 4to, 123. _ 
 
 LIFE MOSAIC : Being "The Ministry of Song '■ and "Under the 
 Surface." With twelve coloured illusuuiions of Alpine iio\Yers and Swiss 
 mOLintaln and lake scenery. Small 4to, 12s. 
 
 TREASURE TROVE: A Selection from some Unpuhlished 
 Writings of Miss Havergal. With coloured borders. 32mo, Is. 
 
 IVY LEAVES: Being Thoughts for a Month, from Miss 
 Havergul's Poems. With coloured borders, IGino, Is. 
 
 MY KING AND HIS SERVICE : Being the following Three 
 Vulumes_in neat cloth_case, price Is. 
 
 MY KING; or, Daily Thoughts, etc. 
 
 ROYAL BOUNTY; or, Evening Thoughts, etc. 
 
 EOTAL COMMANDMENTS; or. Morning Thoughts. 
 
 UNDER HIS SHADOW. 32mo, Is. 6d. 
 
 THE MINISTRY OF SONG. 32mo, Is. 6d. 
 
 UNDER THE SURFACE. 32mo, Is. 6d. 
 
 *:f* These Three Volumes of Poems may be had in a neat cloth case, 
 price 6s. 
 
 MORNING STARS ; or, Names of Christ for His Little Ones. 
 32mo, 8d. 
 
 MORNING BELLS AND LITTLE PILLOWS : Being Waking 
 and Night Tlioughts for the Little Ones. 32mo, 9d. each; paper covers, 
 6d. each. 
 
 BKUEY: A LITTLE WORKER FOR CHRIST. Crown 8vo, 
 38. 6d. ; cheap edition, Is. 6d. ; paper cover. Is. 
 
 THE FOUR HAPPY DAYS. 16mo, Is. 
 
 BEN BRIGHTBOOTS and other True Stories. Crown 870, 
 Is. 5a. 
 
 LILIES AND SHAMROCKS. 16mo, Is. . 
 
 SONGS OF PEACE AND ,TOY. The Words selected from "The 
 Ministry of ISong " and *■ llniier the Surface." The Music hy Charles H. 
 Purday. Fcap 4to, 3s. paper cover, Is. 6d. 
 
RECENT BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Revised by Her Majesty. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE LIFE OF THIi PRINCE CONSORT. 
 Told for Boys and Girls, By tlie Eev. W. "W. Tulloch, B.D. 
 Grown 8vo, gilt edgeS, 3s. 6d. 
 
 Revised by Her l\/iajesty. 
 
 TPIE STORY OF THE LIFE OF QUEEN VICTORIA. Told for 
 Boys and Girls all over tlie "World. By the Eev.W. W. Tulloch, 
 B.D. With Two Portraits. Crown 8vo, gilt edges, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " this Memoir is marked "by two features Which give it especial distinction. 
 It is written In the siuiplest language for boys and girls; and, with the 
 exception of the last chapter, the work has been personally and carefully 
 levised by Her Majesty. We thus have what must-be accepteJ as an authori- 
 tiitive account of the circumstauces under which Priucess Victoj'ia was lirst 
 iRMde acquainted with her nearness to tlie Throne, and are also enabled lo 
 dc'iile several other poin-ts of interest which have been variously related by 
 diffiirent writers." — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 " The style in which it Is written is simple, graceful, and appropriate, and 
 its tone is altogether admirable. . . . Numerous anecdotes not generally known 
 are scattered over the pages, and these are by no means the least importai.t, 
 being Authenticated, as they are, by one who knows their accuracy. . . . We 
 very warmly recommend this charming book, which, from first to last, is 
 profoundly interesting. "— Queen. 
 
 OUR SOVEREIGN LADY. A Book' for lier People. By 
 Miss Marsh, Author of "English Hearts and English Hands," 
 "Brief Memories of the First Earl Cairns," etc. ,, and by L.E. O'R., 
 Author of "The Child of the Morning," etc. Small cro-wn 8vo, 
 Is. cloth limp; 2e. cloth boards, gilt edges. Popular Edition, 
 small crown Kvo, with Frontispiece ; paper cover 4d., or 21s. 
 per 100. 
 "A touching and truthful little sketch of the Queen's life and reign, "—Jb/m 
 Bull. ' 
 
 " Remarkable for the enthusiastic loyalty of its tone, but at the same time 
 written with real literary power, and presents a veiy well-planned epitome of 
 the chief events of this reign."— Scoi('(s/fc Leader. 
 
 " it is feelingly writLen, and breathes a vein of loyalty and piety combined 
 vhii h wiQ make it aceeptdble to many." — Saturday K&view. 
 
 W. L. ALEXANDER, D.D., HI^ LIFE AND WORK. By 
 
 the Rev. J. Ross. Extra crown 8vo, with Portrait, 7s. 6d. 
 Mr. Boss has executed a difficult task with excellent taste and skill. The 
 book reveals the characteristics of Dr. Alexander with force and coherence, and 
 is altogether readable and interesting." — Satv/rday Review. 
 
 '■ A very good account of an interesting and scholarly man. Mr. Ross gives, 
 in passing, glimpses of niiny of the principal figures in bcntland during the 
 last hfjlf century, and of some of the phases of the religious life of the country." 
 — Contemporary Review. 
 
 Dedicated to the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 
 TOLD .FOR A MEMORIAL. The Story of Mary Ann. With a 
 Preface by Canon Mason. A Portrait and other Illustrations, 
 Second Edition. Small crown 8vo, Is. 6d. 
 "This little book is unusually edifying— quite above tlie line of those pious 
 records we know so weW— Literary Clmrelman. 
 
 "A very interesting biography." — Church Quarterly Review. 
 " A simple but charming story of a Cornish widow. Tlie present Primate 
 t »ok a warm iut6re.-t In Mary Ann Davie, and valued her intercesjiiona for 
 himself."— 67n( reft. Bells. 
 
RECENT BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 SAMUEL GOBAT, BISHOP OF JERUSALEM: His Life and. 
 Work. A Biographical Sketch, drawn chiefly from his own 
 Journals. Translated anfl Edited by Mrs. Pekbira. With 
 Portrait and Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
 "A pattern Memoir; short, compfint, and full. It throws much light on 
 Scrii>t.iire by its vivil description of placets, pers ms, custorns, etc., atjd is 
 flMle^wi^e very valuable for its amount of inturestinf^ aiifl useful inloriuati'in. 
 A standard work on Missions to the Holy hAud."— Christian World. 
 
 -THE LIFE- OF JOHX GORDON OF PARKHILL AND PIT- 
 LUKG. By his Widow. With Portrait. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 " The perusal of this Memoir will show that few have ever been more earnest 
 in well-doing than John Gordon. The nature and extent of his public and 
 private work will best be learnt through the pages of Mrs. Gordon's well- 
 written Merauir." — Morning Post. 
 
 "The "whole aspect and style of this volum"- is sure to commend it to a 
 large class of readers. The way in which the author arranges her materials, 
 and exhibits them to her readers, prevents dulnes-; and encourages peru-jal. 
 The deeds of this great standard-bearer, whom circumstances never dismayed, 
 are here set forth wilh akili and interest."— Presb^fenjw Messeiiger. 
 
 MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN P. W. STEPHENS, R.N., late of 
 H.M.S. "Thetis " By B. A. Heywood, M.A., OambridgD. With 
 Portrait and other Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 3a. 
 
 " The subject of Ihis Mt-moir was a ' worthy' indepd. Mr. Heywood has ful- 
 filled his task admirably, and the Memoir has nmch to recommend it to the 
 general reader ; while it will be of special intfrest to those who like to 
 study the history of souls in their relations with Go(i."Spectator. 
 
 " This is a thoroughly good and readable book. Open the book where one 
 may, some passage of bright, manly, attectionate enterprise is sure to catch 
 the eye." — Churchman. 
 
 CHOSEN, CHASTENED, CROWNED. A Memoir of Mary 
 SiiEKELTON. With Portrait. Crown 8yo, 3s. Cd, ' 
 
 *' A most appropriate gilt-hook for an invalid." — Mecord. 
 
 ARCHIBALD CAMPBELL TAIT. A Sketch of the Public Life 
 of the late Archbishop of Oanterbui-y. By A. C. Bickley. Second 
 Edition. Crown 8vo, 2s. 6d. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE RE7. WILLIAM ARNOT. And 
 a Memoir by his Daughter, Mrs. A. Fleming. Post 8vo, 9s. 
 
 THE LIFE OF THE LATE JAMES HAMILTON, D.D., F.L.S. 
 By the Rev. William Aknot. With Portrait. Post 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
 A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF SIR HENRY HAVELOCK, 
 K C.B. By the Rev William Bitooii, D.U. With Portrait. 
 Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. Cheaper Edition, Is. tid. 
 
RECENT BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 BIOGRAPHY OF THE REV. HENRY A. STERN, D.D. 
 
 For more than forty years a Missionary of tlie London Society for 
 
 Promoting Christianity among the Jews. By the Eev. Albert 
 
 A. Isaacs, M.A. With Illustrations. Demy 8vo, 9s. 
 
 ' ' Mr. Isaacs has laid the Church under an ohligation for the loving care with 
 
 which he has gathered up this most interesting record of the life and work of 
 
 one of her baints. A nobler portraiture of a true Christian hero has not 
 
 crossed our path in the annals of the early or mediaeval Chui'Ch." — Church 
 
 Missionary Intdl'ujcncer. 
 
 ST. AUGUSTIN. MELANCHTHON, NEANDER. Three 
 Biographies. By Philip Schaff, D.D., Author of "Through 
 Bible Lands," " Ohi'ist and Christianity," etc. Crown 8vo, 4s. 6d. 
 
 "Dr. Schaff writes in good, honnst, straightforward English, with no 
 attempt at rhetoric, but with a style so laden with information that the 
 perusal of his pages is a pleasure. He has given what must he owned to be 
 three very graphic and iufornling sketches of three of the greatest men the 
 Church has produced." — Scottish Review. 
 
 " We do not know of one hfe of St. Augustin that gives a more graphic and 
 living portrait of the Saint, or embraces so much detail."— Xiferarj/ Churchman. 
 
 •'The briet'erbiographies of the great German Reformer and the illustrious 
 Church Historian are sketched with care and truthfulness." — Church Times. 
 
 MEMORIALS OF THE LATE FRANCES RIDLEY HAVER- 
 GAL. By her Sister, Maria V. G. Havbkgal. With Portrait 
 and other Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 6s. Cheap Edition, crown 
 8vo, Is. 6d. ; roan, 3s. ; paper cover, 6d. 
 
 FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL — THE LAST WEEK. 
 Seventy-eighth Thousand. 6d. ; paper cover, '2d. 
 
 LETTERS OF FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. Hitherto 
 Unpublished. Edited by her Sister, Maria V. G. Havergal, 
 Crown 8vo, 5s. 
 
 "Rightly to pstimate the character of this ti-uly Christian woman, it is 
 necessary to read the correspondence which is now'laid before the public."— 
 Fiihlic Opinion. 
 
 " It is a boon to the public to be permitted to enter into the inner life of this 
 true poetess. Many wiio turn over this volume will get a message pregnant 
 with light, and go on their way instructed and rejoicing. Its naturalness and 
 fulness of sympathy give a wonderful insight into the daily life of one who 
 was specially gifted, both to stimulate and refresh." — Academy. 
 
 " Here, more completely than in any former publication, Miss Havergal is 
 depicted, by her own pen, in all the moods of her highly^ifted nature." — 
 Literary Churchman. 
 
 OUTLINES OF A GENTLE LIFE. Memorials of Ellen P. 
 Shaw. By Makia v. G. Havergal, With Frontispiece. Grown 
 8to, Is. 6d. ; paper rover, Is. 
 
 LIFE AND LETTERS OF THE LATE REV. ADOLPHE 
 MONOD, Pastor of the Eeformed Ohnrch of France. By one 
 of his Daughters. With Portrait. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 '■An admirable monument or a noble and memorable life." — Churchman. 
 
 "Everybody should read this beautiful and mn^t edifying book. We are 
 delighted that this exquisite tribute to M. ALouod's revered memory has beeu 
 translated." — Methodist Times. 
 
 "The life of M. Monod will, in a mnst instructive niat.ner, explain how the 
 death-like trance of the French Protestant Church was gradually dispelhd. 
 It will be exceedingly valuable for, we trust, the awakening and odiflcation of 
 njany English Christians. We feel assured that those who consult it will 
 lejoice that it has been brought pointedly under their hotice, and will thank 
 ns for it." — Keconl. 
 
RECENT BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 THE FIRST EARL CAIRNS. Brief Memories of Hur.ii 
 M'Calmojst, First Earl Cairns. By Miss Marsh. Crown 8vo, Is. 
 
 '"Mi^s Marsh is enabled to draw for U8 some deiightful pictures of Lord 
 Cairns' liome and family life." — Record, 
 
 " A simple yet heartfelt tribute to the memory of a great and good mau."^ 
 Morning I'ost, ' 
 
 "This little book is, of course, only a mere outline of the career of such a 
 mau ; but we believe it wiU do far more good than will ever lie accomplished 
 by those huge masses of rubbish which are so often piled upon good meu's 
 graves." — Mr. Spurgeon in the Svford and Trowel. 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF CAPTAIN HEDLEY VICARS, 97tli Regiment. 
 With Portrait. Sfnall crown 8vo,' 3s. 6'd. Clieaper Edition, 
 Is. 6d. ; paper cover, 6d. 
 
 LIFE OF THE REV. DR. MARSH, late Rector of Beddington. 
 With Portrait and other Illustrations. Post 8vo, 10s. Cheaper 
 Edition, crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 THE LIFE OF" ARTHUR VANDELEUR, Majok, Royal 
 Abtillery. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 THE VICTORY WON. A Brief Memorial of the Last Days of 
 G. K. Crown 8vo, Is. 6d. ; paper cover, 6d. 
 
 A MEMOIR OF THE LATE REV. W. H. HEWITSON, of 
 Dirleton. By the Eev. John Baillie, D.D. With Portrait. 
 Crown 8vo, 5s.; Cheaper Edition, Is. 6d. 
 
 A MEMOIR OF ADELAIDE L. NEWTON. By the Rev. John 
 Baillie, D.D. With Portrait. Grown 8vo, 5s.; Cheaper 
 Edition, 2s. 
 
 THE NIGHT LAMP: A Narrative of the Means by which 
 Spiritual Darkness was Dispelled from the Deathbed of Agnes 
 Maxwell Macfarlane. By the late Eev. John Macfarlane, 
 LL.D. With Portrait. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 MEJIOIR OF THE LATE REV. WILLIAM C, BURNS, M.A., 
 Missionai-y to China. By the late Professor Islay Burns, D.D., 
 Glasgow. With Portrait. Small crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 -* William Burns is one of the few men of modern times who have carried the 
 Christian idea into such active revelation in the life, as would compel, even 
 from the most sceptical, a reluctant consent to the Divine Origin of the 
 truths he taught and lived by; and liis Jlemoir, writtt-n with raresincenty 
 and simplicity, must long live as a bright specimen of true Christian 
 biograpljy." — CouUmporarti Revlcm. 
 
RECENT BIOGRAPHY. 
 
 THE STORY OF COMMANDER ALLEN GARDINER, K.N. 
 With Sketches of Missionary Work in South America. By John 
 W. Maksh, M. a., and the Right Eev. the Bishop of the Falkland 
 Islands. With Portrait and Maps. Crown 8vo, 2s. 
 
 MEMORIALS OF JAMES HENDERSON, M.D., T.E.e.S. 
 EDINBURGH, MEDICAL MISSIONARY TO 'CHINA.- With 
 Portrait. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. Cheap Abridged Edition, 16nio, Is. 
 
 MEMOIR OF THE LATE REV". J. J. WEITBRECHT, LATE 
 
 MISSIONARY OF THE O.M.S. IN BENGAL. Compiled by 
 his Widow from his Journals and his Letters. With a Preface 
 by the late Rev. H. Venn, M.A. Crown 8vo, 3s 6d. 
 
 SEED-TIME IN KASHMIR : A Memoir of William J. Elmslio, 
 M.D., F.R.C.S.E., late. Medical Missionary of the C.M.S. in 
 Kashmii'. By his Widow and Dr. W. Buens Thomson, Medical 
 Missionary. Crown 8to, 4s. 6d. Cheaper Edition, Is. 
 
 .PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF AN INDI-AN MERCHANT. 
 Being Memorials of Robert Brown, late of Bombay. Compiled by 
 his Sister, Helen Colvin. Crown 8vo, 5s. fid. 
 
 MEMORIALS OF LITTLE NONY. A Biography of Nony 
 Heywood, who was the First Collector for the Bruey Branch 
 of the Irish Society. By her Mother. With Preface by Miss 
 Haveegal, and a Portrait. Crown 8to, 2s. 6d. 
 " The groat charm of the hook is its unmistakable reality." — Chv/rchman. 
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET MINISTRY. Being the Life and 
 Letters of the Bev. Andrew Milroy. By his Son, the Rev. 
 Andrew Wallace Mii.rot, 'M.A. Oxon. With Portrait and 
 other niustrations. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 MEMOIR OF THE REV. G. T. DODDS, OF PARIS. By 
 Rev. Hokatius Bonae, D.D. Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 SELECT REMAINS OF ISLAY BUENS, D.D., of the Free 
 Church College, Glasgow. Edited by Rev. James 0. Bukns. 
 With a Memoir by Eev. W. G. Blaikie, D.D., New College, 
 Edinburgh. Post 8vo, 7s. 6d. 
 
 MEMORIALS OF A CONSECRATED LIFE. By the Rev. 
 William Lanuels, D.D. Small crown 8vo, 3s. 
 
 MEMORIALS OF AGNES ELIZABETH JONES. By Ler 
 SisTEK. With Portrait. Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. 
 
 LONDON : 
 JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNEES STREET, W. 
 
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