Chapter V: Front Matter (5)

Towards the end of the year she joined her sister at the Mumbles. Here she could be quiet in her "workshop," the walls of which were adorned with pictures she had arranged herself. On her bookshelf stood her few choice books; the last she read were, _The Earth's Formation on Dynamical Principles_, by A.J. Ritchie, _Goodwin's Works, The Life and Letters of Rev. W. Pennefather, The Upward Gaze_ by her friend Agnes Giberne, and books by Rev. G. Everard. On her table was her American typewriter; her desk and table-drawers were all methodically arranged. It was at her study table that she read her Bible at seven o'clock in summer and eight in winter, her Hebrew Bible, Greek Testament and Lexicon being at hand. "Sometimes on bitter cold mornings," says her sister, "I begged that she would read with her feet comfortably to the fire, and received the reply, 'But then, Marie, I can't rule my lines neatly; just see what a find I have got! If one only searches, there are such extraordinary things in the Bible.'"

On Christmas-day, 1878, her last Christmas upon earth, she awoke in severe pain, and was ill for some days; but during the time she compiled a set of Christmas and New Year mottoes, which she called _Christmas Sunshine_ and _Love and Light for the New Year_. She was ordered rest and felt she needed it. One remark as to her unceasing work is very touching:--"I do hope the angels will have orders to let me alone a bit when I first get to heaven." She was learning to use as her daily petition the prayer her mother taught her, "O Lord, prepare me for all Thou art preparing for me;" and this He was doing. By weakness and sickness and by unwearying trust and unwearied labour was she being prepared for that better rest above.

VI.

THE MINISTRY OF SONG

We may turn aside for a short time before we consider the last eventful weeks of Frances Ridley Havergal's sojourn upon earth, to deal with a subject that has been but lightly touched upon, namely, her ministry of song.

She had inherited from her gifted father a great talent for music. She was a remarkably skilful performer upon the pianoforte. So retentive was her memory that she could play without notes a large portion of the works of Handel, Beethoven and Mendelssohn.

Her musical compositions were of a very high order. When she was thirty years of age she went, while at Cologne, to show some of her compositions to Ferdinand Hiller. After looking through them and learning that she had had no instruction in harmony, he expressed his surprise and delivered his verdict, the worst part first.

He said her melodies bore the stamp of talent, not of genius. "But as to your harmonies," he said to her, "I must say I am astonished. It is something singular to find such a grasp of the subject, such power of harmonisation except where there has been long and thorough study and instruction; here I can give almost unlimited praise." She told him her question was, had she talent enough to make it worth while to devote herself to music as a serious thing, as a life-work? He answered, "Sincerely and unhesitatingly I can say that you _have_."

How spontaneous was her musical and poetical genius will be seen from the account of the genesis of her well-known missionary hymn and tune, "Tell it out among the heathen." She was unable to go to church at Winterdyne one snowy morning in 1873. She asked for her Prayer-book while still in bed, as she always liked to follow the services for the day. On Mr. Shaw, her brother-in-law, returning from church, he heard the piano sounding. "Why, Frances," he said, "I thought you were upstairs." "Yes, but I had my Prayer-book, and in the Psalm for to-day I read, 'Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord is King.' I thought what a splendid first line; and then the words and music came rushing on to me. There, it's all written out." She had written it out, the words and music and harmonies complete. And her sister remarks: "Only those who heard her could imagine the brisk ringing tone with which she sang this tune."

In her "Consecration Hymn" occurs the couplet--

"Take my voice and let me sing Always only for my King."

And to her these were no mere words of a song. She tried to consecrate all her singing to God's service. It was a real ministry. She strove always to sing the very words of the Bible, as she observed that persons could not with decency object to them, though they might have done so to her own words.

During a sojourn in Switzerland she was anxious to reach the people she saw wending their way to early mass. On learning that she would sing to them, many promised to come to her pension. She says, "First I sang to them, and then got the girls to join in the hymn which they had [previously] copied out. Then I read some passages.... A few went away when I read.... You will wonder what I sang! Well, I had been singing snatches of hymns to myself and especially 'Only for Thee,' and found this gave immense gratification in our little pension; so I thought God could as well give me French as English if He would, and I set to and wrote 'Seulement pour Toi!' (as they had liked the tune so much). Only it is quite a different hymn, making prominent the other side, He and He _only_ is and does all for us." This hymn thus written was of good service on another occasion. On the way from Chamounix to Great St. Bernard Hospice, some of the passengers in the diligence sang French songs remarkably well. Her sister says: "We listened and commended, and then asked if they would join us in a new tune, 'Seulement pour Toi!' Finding the driver took up the chorus in bass, Frances went outside that he might see the words, and most heartily was it sung by all!"

The following Sunday was spent at the hospice; and once again was her musical talent used in proclaiming the Master's message. Her brilliant touch upon the piano attracted the attention of the "fathers" in the monastery, and they begged her to sing after dinner. She asked her sister to join in prayer that the King's message might be given, and that it might search some hearts. As there were different nationalities present, she very simply but gracefully said she was going to sing from the Holy Scriptures, repeating the words in German and Italian, and then sang Handel's "Comfort ye," "He shall feed His flock," and afterwards, "Rest in the Lord." An Italian professor of music, with many others, thanked her, and were expressing their admiration to her sister, when Frances bade them "good night," remarking to her sister, "You see, Marie, I gave my message, and so it is better to come away."

An instance illustrating the singing powers and also the friendliness of this sweet singer is recorded by Rev. S.B. James, D.D., in his _Frances Ridley Havergal, a Lecture Sermon_.[1] "After a garden-party in Somersetshire where she had almost exhausted herself, she happened to overhear her hostess's regret that the servants had not been present. 'Oh, if it is work for the Master,' she exclaimed, 'of course I can do it.' And though she had been just stung by a bee upon the hand, and was suffering intense pain, she threw off hat and gloves, took her seat eagerly at the piano, and ... impressed a whole retinue of servants with the beautiful piece from the _Messiah_, 'Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' And when it was all done she stood up and said, 'Now I am going to tell you what _you_ must do when you have yourselves accepted the invitation,' and she sang out before that humble spell-bound audience, 'Tell it out among the heathen that the Lord is King.' ... One person at least was turned to righteousness on that musical afternoon."

[Footnote 1: Quoted in _The Sisters_. Charles Bullock, B.D., p. 100.]

The ministry of song of F.R. Havergal will chiefly be remembered, however, by the goodly heritage of poetry which she has left to the Church of Christ, and in which she being dead yet speaketh. Here it is that her great influence is still felt. She had the happy gift of expressing the deep breathings of the consecrated soul in whole-hearted loyalty to the blessed Master. She strove to regard the Lord Jesus as a real living and personal Friend. She longed to be entirely yielded up to His service, and she put the thoughts of her heart, which had been warmed by the indwelling Spirit, in real and genuine expressions of love to and praise of her Master.

She began writing verses when she was only seven years of age.

In 1860 her poetry was so much appreciated that she received applications from the editors of various religions magazines to supply poetical contributions. In 1803 she received her first cheque of £10 17s. 6d. This she sent to her father: £10 for anything he liked to employ it on, 10s. for the Scripture Readers' collection, and 7s. 6d. for any similar emergency.

Her hymn "I gave my life for thee" first appeared in _Good Words_. It was written in Germany in 1858. She had come in weary and sat down opposite a picture with this motto. At once the lines flashed upon her and she wrote them in pencil on a scrap of paper. Reading them over, they did not satisfy her. She tossed them into the fire, but they fell out untouched. Showing them some months after to her father, he encouraged her to preserve them, and wrote the tune "Baca" especially for them.

The origin of the well-known hymn, 'Take my Life,' she thus describes--"I went for a little visit of five days. There were ten persons in the house, some unconverted and long prayed for, some converted, but not rejoicing Christians. He gave me the prayer, 'Lord, give me _all_ in this house.' And He just _did_! Before I left the house, every one had got a blessing. The last night of my visit I was too happy to sleep, and passed most of the night in praise and renewal of my own consecration, and these little couplets formed themselves, and chimed in my heart one after another, till they finished with '_Ever_, ONLY, ALL, for Thee.'"

Some six months before she died she wrote thus about this hymn, "I had a great time early this morning, renewing the never-regretted consecration. I seemed led to run over the 'Take my Life,' and could bless Him verse by verse for having led me on to much more definite consecration than even when I wrote it--voice, gold, intellect, etc. But the eleventh couplet--"

'Take my love--my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store'--

"that has been unconsciously _not filled up_. Somehow, I felt mystified and out of my depth here; it was a simple and definite thing to be _done_, to settle the voice, or silver and gold; but 'love?' I have to love others, and I do; and I've not a small treasure of it; and even loving _in Him_ does not quite meet the inner difficulty.... I shall just go forward and expect Him to fill it up, and let my life from this day answer really to that couplet. The worst part to me is that I don't in practice prove my love to Him, by delight in much and long communion with Him; hands and head seem so full of other things' (which yet are His given work), that 'heart' seems not 'free to serve' in fresh and vivid love."

In writing her hymns, F.R. Havergal looked up to God to give her the ideas and words, and they were often produced very rapidly. Mr. Snepp of Perry Bar left her leaning against a wall while he went in to visit the boys' school, and on his return ten minutes afterwards she handed him the well-known hymn "Golden harps are sounding," pencilled upon an old envelope.

A remarkable fact is recorded in connection with another hymn entitled, "Reality, Reality, Lord Jesus Christ, Thou art to me." She was much struck with the expression used by a working man in a prayer-meeting--"Father, we know the reality of Jesus Christ." This thought took hold of her and found expression in this hymn on a stormy night at Whitby, after she had seen the life-boat put forth to a wreck, hence the expressions, "Pilot," "Lifeboat," and "Haven." The very night she wrote the hymn, a young Christian four hundred miles away was pleading at a prayer-meeting, "Lord Jesus, let Thy dear servant write for us what Thou art, Thou living, bright Reality, and let her do it _this very night_." "While they are yet speaking, I will hear."

Space does not permit any detailed account of her poetry. Her's were specially songs of the inner life. She revealed in her poetic works her own inner experience, and a perusal of them will give indications of her own growth in holiness.

A reader is impressed not only with the ease and brightness of her style, but with her firm grasp of things unseen. Her poetry was not just stringing together words, but it was the very expression of her heart. She thus writes on this point in _The Ministry of Song_:

"Poetry is not a trifle,
Lightly thought and lightly made;
Not a fair and scentless flower,
Gaily cultured for an hour,
Then as gaily left to fade.

'Tis not stringing rhymes together,
In a pleasant true accord;
Not the music of the metre,
Not the happy fancies sweeter
Than a flower-bell honey-stored.

'Tis the essence of existence,
Rarely rising to the light;
And the songs that echo longest,
Deepest, fullest, truest, strongest,
With your life-blood you must write."

So did the sweet singer herself write from her own experience.

Her hymns, which are very numerous, no less than seventy being in common use, have been the means not only of arresting the undecided and helping the saint, but of consoling the suffering and the doubting. So many of her poems were the expressions of a bright faith and simple trust shining out through storm and cloud, that others, storm-tossed and beclouded, catch the rays and are cheered thereby.

Although many of the poems are in a plaintive minor tone there are occasional bursts of more cheerful strain, as in the lines on "A Merrie Christmas," which appeared in the _Sunday at Home_.

"A Merrie Christmas to you!
For we serve the Lord with mirth.
And we carol forth glad tidings
Of our holy Saviour's birth.

So we keep the olden greeting,
With its meaning deep and true,
And wish a Merrie Christmas
And a Happy New Year to you.

Oh, yes! 'a Merrie Christmas,'
With blithest song and smile,
Bright with the thought of Him who dwelt
On earth a little while,

That we might dwell for ever
Where never falls a tear:
So 'a Merrie Christmas' to you,
And a Happy, Happy Year!"

The beautiful and aptly chosen titles alone in many cases are most suggestive and refreshing. Yes, Frances R. Havergal's power of giving expression to holy aspiration and Christian loyalty and heartfelt praise will live as long as English Hymnology lives.

VII.

"SEEING THE KING."

We come now to describe the closing months of this devoted life. Her sister recalls that the New Year's greeting given to her on January 1, 1879. was, "'He crowneth the year with His goodness,' and He crowneth me 'with loving-kindness and tender mercies.' You, dear Marie, are one of my mercies; and I do hope He will let me do something for you up in heaven."

The following subjects of prayer for 1878-79, found in her Bible, will not only illustrate her method of petition, but will be helpful to other Christians longing to excel in supplication.

"I have greatly enjoyed the regular praying of the Lord's Prayer, and take a petition each morning in the week. Intercession for others I generally make at evening. I take the fruits of the Holy Spirit in the same way and find this helpful."

_GENERAL_.

MORNING.

For the Holy Spirit. Perfect trust all day. Watchfulness. To be kept from sin. That I may please Him. Guidance, growth and grace. That I may do His will. That He may use my mind, lips, pen, _all_. Blessing and guidance in each engagement and interview of the day.

EVENING.

For forgiveness and cleansing. Mistakes overruled. Blessing on all said, written and done. For conformity to His will and Christ's likeness. That His will may be done _in_ me. For a _holy_ night. Confession. For every one for whom I have been specially asked to pray.

_SPECIAL SUBJECTS_.

SUNDAY.

That I may make the most of Sabbath hours and gain much from the Word.

Deliverance from wandering thoughts. _Pure_ praise. Blessing on services and choir.

_Hallowed be Thy name_.

Intercessions. (Initials of many clergymen, of her brother, her god-children, and "our servants.")

MONDAY--"For joy and peace."

That the life of Jesus may be manifest in me.

_Thy kingdom come_

Intercession for Church Missionary Society and Irish Society. (Initials of her eldest sister, _all_ her family, and "Oakhampton servants.")

TUESDAY--"For longsuffering"

That my unconscious influence may be all for Him.

_Thy will be done_.

Intercession for Mildmay (and initials of her brother Henry's children and many Leamington friends).

'WEDNESDAY--"Gentleness."

For spirit of prayer and shadowless communion.

_Give us this day our daily bread._

Intercession for the universities and public schools, for many friends, for M.V.G.H., and E.C.

THURSDAY--"Goodness."

For much fruit to His praise. Soul-winning. Spirit of praise.

_Forgive us our trespasses_.

Local work. Swansea and Mrs. Morgan. For my sister Ellen, all at Winterdyne, "and the servants."

FRIDAY--"Faith."

Wisdom to be shown more of His will and commands.

_Lead us not into temptation_.

For my brother and all at Upton Bishop.

SATURDAY--"Meekness and Temperance."

That the Word of Christ may dwell in me richly, open treasure of Thy Word to me, fill my seed-basket.

_Deliver us from evil._.

For the Church of England and the Queen. (Initials of many friends.)

A plan of work for 1879--"If the Lord will"--was sketched out, but it was not the Lord's will that it should he accomplished, and many subjects were not even attempted.

On her return from London in the early part of the year, her friends noticed the peculiar gladness of her service. She said one morning to her sister, "Marie, it is really very remarkable how everything I do seems to prosper and nourish. There is my 'Bruey Branch' growing and increasing, and now the temperance work, and so many letters tell me that God is blessing my little books."

The "Bruey Branch" here mentioned was an effort to get children to interest themselves in the Irish Society, and met with signal success. It had been started two years previously with eight collectors--now hundreds of collecting cards had gone out.

Of her temperance work she writes a little later: "May, 1879. I haven't taken up teetotal work, but teetotal work has taken up me! Morgan and Scott made me accept a big handsome pledge-book in February, and somehow the thing has fairly _caught fire_ here. One led to another, and yesterday boys were coming all day to sign. I had twenty-five recruits yesterday alone, and a whole squad more are coming this evening! and we are going in for getting EVERY boy in the whole village! and now 'Please, miss, mayn't girls sign?' So I've got to open a girls' branch as well! So work grows!" Again, "Really a wonderful little temperance work here; all the rising generation have joined the pledge except about twelve, and now the men want to speak to me and I am to meet them to-night at the corner of the village (open air, having no place else) with my pledge-book. I have got 118 pledged, and each with prayer over it and personal talk about better things." On May 21 she met these men, carrying with her her Bible and temperance book. While standing, heavy clouds came up, and she was obliged to return home, wet and chilly, though some men were still waiting to speak to her. The next day (Thursday) she managed to get to church and received the Lord's Supper. She was very tired with the service, and rode home on a donkey. As she passed through the village, quite a procession of her boys followed her. She urged her donkey boy to "leave the devil's side and get on the safe side; that Jesus Christ was the winning side; that He loved him, and was calling him, and wouldn't he choose Him for his Captain?" Arrived at home, she ran in for her temperance book, and the boy signed it on the saddle. That evening she spoke to several persons with intense earnestness and pleading.

The next day she was to have attended a temperance meeting and have presented 150 cards to those who had signed her book; but the chilliness increased, and the doctor forbade her to go out. Unable to be present herself, she sent two messages by her sister: one to those who had signed--"Behold, God Himself is ... our Captain;" [1] to those who had not signed--"Come thou with us and we will do thee good." [2]--While the meeting was going on she was busy at home stitching strong paper tract-bags for sailors at sea, till she felt ill and had to be assisted to her room.

[Footnote 1: 2 Chron. xiii. 12.] [Footnote 2: Num. x. 29.]

On May 26 she was able to correct the proof of _Morning Stars_, on the text, "I am the bright and morning Star;" and then, as her sister says, the pen so long used in the service of her King was laid down. The last passage she looked at in her Bible was the _Christian Progress_ chapter for May 28.[1] She asked that it might be read to her, and dwelt on "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life." On the 29th fever and internal inflammation rapidly came on, and she exhibited all the symptoms of peritonitis. She suffered very severe pain; but though the outward man was perishing, the inward man was being renewed. On May 30, speaking of justification by faith, she said, "Not for our own works or deservings; oh, what vanity it seems now to rest on our own obedience for salvation, any merit of our own takes away the glory of the atoning blood. 'Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in His own blood'--_that's it_." When asked if she had any fear, she replied, "Why should I? Jesus said, 'It is finished;' and what was His precious blood shed for? _I trust that_."

[Footnote 1: Rev. ii. 1-10.]

On Whit-Sunday she was better, and able to converse a little with her brother and sister. On the following day at early dawn she made the remark, "'Spite of the breakers, Marie, I am so happy. God's promises are so true. Not a fear." At 8 A.M. it was thought she was departing. The Lord's Supper was administered at her request, and when it was over she whispered to her brother, "Frank dear, it is not the performance of the rite, _no safety in that_; but it is obedience to His command, and as a _remembrance_ of His dying love." When the doctor told her she would soon be going home, she exclaimed. "Beautiful! too good to be true!... Oh! it is the Lord Jesus that is so dear to me, I can't tell how precious! how much He has been to me!" Afterwards she asked for "How sweet the name of Jesus sounds!"

To the vicar of Swansea, who visited her, she said, "Oh! I want all of you to speak _bright, bright_ words about Jesus, oh, do, _do_! It is all perfect peace. I am only waiting for Jesus to take me in."

Her sufferings were very acute, and when told how patient she had been that even the doctors noticed it, she replied, "Oh! I am so glad you tell me this. I did want to glorify Him every step of the way, and especially in this suffering. I hope none of you will have five minutes of this pain."

On Tuesday, June 3, she was evidently worse. Among the words she uttered were these: "I am lost in amazement! There hath not failed one word of all His promise!" Mentioning the names of many dear ones, she said, "I want _all_ to come to me in heaven; oh! don't, _don't_ disappoint me; tell them, 'Trust Jesus.'" When one of her sisters repeated the words of the hymn, "Jesus, I will trust Thee," she sang the verse right through to her tune "Hermas." Violent sickness ensued, and when it was over she folded her hands on her heart, saying, "There, now it is all over! Blessed rest!"

Her sister thus describes the glorious sunset of her life on June 3, 1879, at the age of 42: "And now she looked up steadfastly as if she saw the Lord; and surely nothing less heavenly could have reflected such a glorious radiance upon her face. For ten minutes we watched that almost visible meeting with her King, and her countenance was so glad, as if she were already talking to Him. Then she tried to sing, but after one sweet high note--'HE--,' her voice failed, and as her brother commended her soul into her Redeemer's hand, she passed away. Our precious sister was gone, satisfied, glorified, within the palace of her King." And so she fell asleep, and her eyes saw the King in His beauty--that King of whom she sung so sweetly and wrote so loyally. On June 9 they laid her body to rest in the quiet churchyard of Astley Church in Worcestershire.

And thus within sight of the room which saw her birth, her body lies "until the day dawn."

VIII.

"UNDER THE SURFACE."

_Upon_ the surface you saw a bright, accomplished lady. She had marked ability as a linguist. She acquired a great deal of German as a child by carefully attending while present at the German lessons given to her sisters. She learnt enough Greek and Hebrew to read her Hebrew Bible and to enjoy her Greek Testament, and often brings out in her letters the fact that she had been studying it. As we have seen, she was an accomplished musician, and she was untiring in her literary productions. Her books of poems comprise _Life-Chords,_ consisting of "Under His shadow,"--"Her last poems"--"Loyal Responses," and "Her earlier poems;" _Life Mosaic_, comprising "The Ministry of Song," and "Under the Surface;" _Swiss Letters and Alpine Poems_, written during several tours in Switzerland.

Her chief prose works _Kept for the Master's Use, The Royal Invitation, My King, Royal Commandments, Royal Bounty, Starlight through Shadows, Morning Stars, Morning Bells, Little Pillows, and Bruey, a little Worker for Christ_.

_Upon_ the surface, too, you saw a woman of sound-common sense. This was evidenced both in her writings, and her daily life. For example, she writes thus one day: "I felt as if I rather wanted a little intellectual bracing, as if something of contact with intellect were necessary to prevent my getting into a weak and wishy-washy kind of thought and language. I like intellects to rub against and have no present access to books which would do it, so I bethought myself of seeing what Shakespeare would do for me and I think my motive was really that I might polish my own instruments for the Master's use."

Again, as regards dress her sensible comment was, "If the King's daughter is to be 'all glorious within,' she must not be outwardly a fright! I must dress both as a lady and a Christian. The question of cost I see very strongly, and do not consider myself at liberty to spend on dress that which might be spared for God's work; but it costs no more to have a thing well and prettily made."

Yes, _on_ the surface you saw an accomplished lady, and on the surface you saw also beaming out the fact that _under_ the surface she was a whole-hearted Christian. This was the most marked feature in her character. No one could be in her company five minutes without recognising Whose she was and Whom she served. A clergyman, who knew perhaps more of her inner life than any one else, in a letter to the writer, says, "The two most prominent characteristics of the last five and a half years of her life seemed to me to be her unreserved consecration and her absolute confidence in the Lord and His Word." The preceding chapters will have shown the reader how true an estimate this is. The business of her life was to glorify God and enjoy Him for ever. Of delicate health, she might have spent a large portion of her time in fretful complainings; but she looked to her Heavenly Father to consecrate even her sicknesses to His service.

Her standard of Christian life was a very high one. She thus writes of a friend: "I write to you as one who is really wanting to follow Jesus altogether, really wanting to live and speak _exactly_ according to His commands and His beautiful example; and where this is the standard, what seems a little thing or nothing at all to others, is sure to be sin, because it is disobeying His dear Word and not 'following, _fully_.'" Her intimate knowledge of Scripture, her sound common-sense kept her from falling into many of the errors into which some who have aimed high in holy things have fallen.

In a letter to her sister on this subject, she thus expresses herself: "As to 'perfectionism' or 'sinlessness,' I have all along, and over and over again, said I never did and do not hold either. 'Sinlessness' belongs _only_ to Christ now, and to our glorified state in heaven. I believe it to be not merely an impossibility on earth but an actual contradiction of our very being, which cannot be 'sinless' till the resurrection change has passed upon us. But being kept from falling, kept from sins, is quite another thing, and the Bible seems to teem with commands and promises about it. First, however, I would distinctly state, that it is _only_ as and while a soul is under the full power of the blood of Christ that it can be cleansed from all sin; that one moment's withdrawal from that power, and it is again actively, because really, sinning;... one instant of standing alone is certain fall."

While magnifying the Saviour's power to save, she had a just estimate of her own condition; only about two years before her death she thus expresses herself: "I can say for myself that I feel I have deserved the very suffering of hell for my transgression of the first great commandment of the law ('Thou shalt love the Lord thy God,' etc.), and for my sin of unbelief." While she aimed high, she knew full well that she had not attained, neither was already perfect.

"As to sanctification, that it is the work of the Holy Spirit, and progressive, is the very thing I see and rejoice in. He has brought me into the 'highway of holiness' up which I trust every day to progress, continually pressing forward, led by the Spirit of God."

The simplicity of her trust in God and His Word comes out strikingly in her writings. She seems to have grasped the fact that Jesus Christ was "a living bright reality," pledged to uphold and help and comfort all who go to Him as little children. Another marked feature in her life was her deep sympathy with others in their trouble and anxieties. And this spirit of unselfishness enabled her in her prose writings and her hymns to inspire something of her simple trust into those who read them with receptive minds.

To see under the surface of Frances Ridley Havergal's character, look into her works, and you find the humble servant of Jesus Christ revealed. She "walked with God," and by the attraction of a life bright with the beauty of holiness revealing itself in her writings, she has exercised and still exercises a great power upon Christians by lifting them up to a higher walk with God. And many singers will doubtless join hereafter in the song of "Moses and the Lamb" whose souls were on earth attuned to heavenly music through the pleading words or holy example of Frances Ridley Havergal.

John P. Hobson, M.A.

HANNAH MORE.

I.

EARLY II

Amongst the staunchest supporters of Presbyterianism in the days of Charles II. were the Mores of Harleston, Norfolk. Glorying in the risk incurred of proscription and imprisonment, they turned their dwelling into a conventicle. Here the faithful gathered stealthily at midnight to hear the Gospel preached, whilst one of the house, with drawn sword, stood at the threshold prepared to defend with his life both minister and congregation. From this sturdy stock sprang Jacob, the father of Hannah More. He married a sensible, high-principled farmer's daughter. A family of five girls was born to them, the fourth being Hannah, whose birth occurred on the 2nd of February, 1745.

Hannah displayed remarkable precocity. Before she was four she could repeat the Catechism, much to the astonishment of the parish minister; whilst startling questions about matters far beyond her age were put to those around her. At eight her thirst for knowledge increased. Sitting on her father's knee she listened eagerly to his recital of the brave deeds of Greeks and Romans and the wise sayings of Plutarch. Sometimes her father repeated orations of classic heroes, first in the original tongue, and then in English. The interest thus excited led the child to crave for a knowledge of Latin. Her father, although averse to girls exceeding the limits of the three "R's" and a few accomplishments, yielded at length to his promising daughter's desire. This early introduction to the classics paved the way to a diligent study of Latin in later years and of the best Latin models, which greatly helped in the formation of her literary style. She also gained a little knowledge of mathematics; but Euclid had to retire in favour of the less intricate study of French. The proficiency which she afterwards acquired in this language she owed to the assiduous tuition of her eldest sister, Mary.

Before the age of twelve she began to scribble short essays and poems. Her systematic education commenced on her becoming a pupil of her sisters' boarding-school at Bristol. Here she made rapid progress, often giving convincing proof of intellectual gifts, and before long becoming qualified to assist in tuition.

In her sixteenth year she was one of Sheridan's most delighted auditors during his delivery of a course of lectures on Eloquence. She expressed her admiration in a chaplet of verses which, finding their way into the orator's hands, so impressed him with the fair promise they contained, that he secured an introduction to the author. Thus originated one of Hannah's numerous warm friendships of after life.

Ferguson, the astronomer, was another of Hannah's early acquaintances. From him she gained a knowledge of science; whilst he, prompted by his high estimate of her abilities, took counsel with her respecting the style of his literary productions.

Her intellectual tastes were encouraged and directed, to a large extent, by a somewhat notable Bristol man, of the name of Peach. Although a draper by trade, his cultivated mind and excellent literary judgment were of distinct service to his young friend. He was entrusted by Hume with the revision of the proof-sheets of the famous History of England.

A humorous story is related of the interest which Hannah's conversation created in the minds of her elders. When laid aside by illness she was attended by a noted physician, Dr. Woodward, who one day became so absorbed in his patient's intellectual discourse that he forgot to make the usual inquiries about her health. "Bless me!" he exclaimed, as he went downstairs, "I forgot to ask the girl how she was!" He returned to the bedside, and rather awkwardly put the formal question to the amused invalid, "How are you to-day, my poor child?"

Hannah's training in the highest principles of morality and in religion, begun by her devoted parents, received the careful attention of her eldest sister as long as she remained under her care; when out of her teens, she commenced the study of theology under the guidance of Dr. Stonhouse, a clergyman of Bristol.

At the age of seventeen, finding that the young people in her circle were in the habit of learning passages from plays which frequently savoured of unhealthy sentiment, she conceived the idea of providing a harmless substitute, and thereupon wrote a pastoral drama, _The Search after Happiness_. A little later she produced another drama, _The Inflexible Captive_, founded on Metastasio's opera of _Regulus_.

Encouraged in various ways by numerous friends, on whose judgment she could safely rely, she appears to have taken pains to qualify herself for a literary career. She studied Latin, Italian, and Spanish, translated from the best compositions, wrote pieces in imitation of celebrated authors, and thus tried to cultivate her mind, and to form the groundwork of a good and pleasing style.

Such literary prospects, however, seemed likely to be exchanged for those of a rural domestic life; for at the age of twenty-two she received and accepted an offer of marriage from a country gentleman of wealth and high character. The wedding-day was fixed, but was postponed more than once, owing to the bridegroom's indecision. At length he lost his chance; for the bride, yielding to the advice of friends, declined to be trifled with any longer, and broke off the engagement. To make some amends for his treatment, and to compensate for her resignation, at the prospect of marriage, of her interest in the school which she and her sister were conducting at Bristol, he settled upon her an annuity, and at his death bequeathed her a thousand pounds. The settlement was made without her knowledge; and it was not without the utmost difficulty that her friends prevailed in persuading her to agree to the arrangement. From this time forward she seems to have set her face against matrimony, for she firmly declined other offers.

A few years afterwards, on arriving at the age of twenty-eight, a long-cherished wish was realised. Since childhood she had longed to visit London. As a child her favourite amusement was to make a carriage of a chair, and invite her sisters to ride with her to London "to see bishops and booksellers." Through girlhood to womanhood the desire gathered strength. In 1773 she set off with two of her sisters to pay her first visit to the Metropolis.

II.

IN "VANITY FAIR."

In order to estimate the complex influences surrounding Hannah More in London, and to appreciate the manner in which she stood the ordeal of passing through "Vanity Fair," it is necessary to bear in mind the social, moral, and religious aspects of the people about the middle of the eighteenth century.

What are now considered flagrant vices were either unnoticed or tacitly sanctioned. Of social refinement, as we now understand the term, there was comparatively little. Coarse jokes, swearing, and profanity were almost as common in "polite society" as in the back streets now. The literature of the day, excepting the writings of Addison, Johnson, Steele, and a few others, ministered to the low tastes prevalent amongst both the upper and the lower classes. Religion had well nigh lost all vitality. With the majority of people it had become the subject either of jest, sceptical hostility, or the utmost indifference.

One of Archbishop Seeker's charges contained the following startling statement:--"In this we cannot be mistaken, that an open and professed disregard of religion is become, through a variety of unhappy causes, the distinguishing character of the present age.... Indeed, it hath already brought in such dissoluteness and contempt of principle in the higher part of the world, and such profligate intemperance and fearlessness of committing crimes in the lower part, as must, if this torrent of impiety stop not, become absolutely fatal.... Christianity is now ridiculed and railed at with very little reserve; and the teachers of it without any at all." [1]

[Footnote 1: Charge to clergy, 1738. See vol. v. of _Works_, Dublin, 1775.]

The great lawyer, Blackstone, says he went from church to church to hear noted London preachers, and it was impossible for him to tell from their discourses whether these luminaries were followers of Confucius, Mahomet, or Christ. George III. felt compelled to address a letter of expostulation to Archbishop Cornwallis for giving balls and routs at Lambeth Palace on Saturday nights, so that they ran into Sunday morning.[2] The Church had given hardly a thought to either the religious or secular education of the masses. Gross ignorance pervaded the ranks of the poor all over England. Although the English Bible was in the people's hands, it was almost a dead letter.

[Footnote 2: This letter may be found in _The Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon_.]

But the voice of awakening had been heard in the land. George Whitfield, John Wesley, and a few other brave men, whose hearts were roused by the Spirit of God, went up and down the country proclaiming the glad tidings of the cross, which for so long had been as an idle tale to the English people.

The wave of religious awakening had touched the highest circles of London society; and when Hannah More received her flattering welcome from fashion, wit, and genius in 1773, the spirit of indifference and neglect had given way in a slight degree to a spirit of inquiry and anxious concern. There was, however, no perceptible change as yet in the utter worldliness of the times, or in the low standard of morals.

It was a perilous thing for a young woman like Hannah More, with her enthusiasm, talents, and general attractiveness, to be suddenly launched in the turbid though fascinating current of London society. But the admirable training in strict moral principles with which she had been privileged furnished weapons of defence against the more specious temptations which presented themselves; whilst her quick discernment easily penetrated the thin shell of external polish covering worthlessness of character. It was also fortunate for her that at the outset of her London experience she became acquainted with such a sterling man as Dr. Johnson.

A few days after her arrival she was introduced to David Garrick and his wife. The famous actor had seen a letter of hers to a mutual friend, extolling one of his theatrical performances. He forthwith secured an interview, which resulted in favourable impressions on both sides, of amiability and intellectual powers. A very cordial friendship ensued.

Garrick's social circle was now thrown open to Miss More. At his house she first met Mrs. Elizabeth Montague, the authoress of an _Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespeare_, a work which brought around the writer the best literary men of the time.

Miss More's introduction to Dr. Johnson took place at the house of Sir Joshua Reynolds. This event, though much desired, was not without dread, lest the great man should happen to be in one of his querulous moods. All fear vanished on her seeing the Doctor approach with a smile on his rugged countenance, and Sir Joshua's macaw perched on his hand. Her surprise may be imagined when he greeted her with a verse from a Morning Hymn of her own composition.

The following extracts are from letters written by one of Hannah's vivacious sisters. "Since I last wrote, Hannah has been introduced by Miss Reynolds to Baretti and to Edmund Burke (the 'Sublime and Beautiful' Edmund Burke!). From a large party of literary persons assembled at Sir Joshua's she received the most encouraging compliments; and the spirit with which she returned them was acknowledged by all present, as Miss Reynolds informed poor us. Miss R. repeats her little poem by heart, with which also the great Johnson is much pleased." "We have paid another visit to Miss Reynolds. She had sent to engage Dr. Percy (Percy's collection,--now you know him), who is quite a sprightly modern, instead of a rusty antique, as I expected. He was no sooner gone, than the most amiable and obliging of women (Miss Reynolds) ordered the coach to take us to Dr. Johnson's _very own house_; yes, Abyssinia's Johnson! Dictionary Johnson! Rambler's, Idler's, and Irene's Johnson! Can you picture to yourself the palpitation of our hearts as we approached his mansion? The conversation turned upon a new work of his (the Tour to the Hebrides), and his old friend Richardson ... Miss Reynolds told the doctor of all our rapturous exclamations on the road. He shook his scientific head at Hannah, and said, 'She was a _silly thing_.' When our visit was ended, he called for his hat, as it rained, to attend us down a very long entry to our coach, and not Rasselas could have acquitted himself more _en cavalier_. We are engaged with him at Sir Joshua's, Wednesday evening. What do you think of us?"

A second visit to London took place in the following year, and a third--prolonged to six months--in 1776. From this period down to about 1789 Miss More usually spent some time every year amongst her London friends, but chiefly with Mrs. Garrick, either at the Adelphi or at her country residence at Hampton.

Her "Life," written by Mr. Roberts and others, is rich with letters, which of themselves form a striking autobiography, revealing the writer's prominent phases of character, her steadfast adhesion to high principles, her progress in the path of literary fame, her wearying of fashionable society, and the gradual consecration of all her powers to the service of God. Besides these personal matters, we get glimpses of the notable people with whom she was brought into contact, and of the moral and religious condition of the higher classes. These letters conform to Hannah More's own idea of what epistolary effusions between friends should be. "What I want in a letter," she once wrote, "is the picture of my friend's mind, and the common course of his life. I want to know what he is saying and doing; I want him to turn out the inside of his heart to me, without disguise, without appearing better than he is." We can therefore obtain a more lifelike portraiture by making extracts from her correspondence than by attempting the task in any other way.

Describing her feelings in associating with persons of rank and wit, she says:--"I had yesterday the pleasure of dining in Hill Street, Berkeley Square, at a certain Mrs. Montague's, a name not totally obscure. The party consisted of herself, Mrs. Carter, Dr. Johnson, Solander, and Matty, Mrs. Boscawen, Miss Reynolds, and Sir Joshua (the idol of every company); some other persons of high rank and less wit, and your humble servant,--a party that would not have disgraced the table of Laelius or of Atticus. I felt myself a worm for the consequence which was given me, by mixing me with such a society; but as I told Mrs. Boscawen, and with great truth, I had an opportunity of making an experiment of my heart, by which I learnt that I was not envious, for I certainly did not repine at being the meanest person in company...Dr. Johnson asked me how I liked the new tragedy of Braganza. I was afraid to speak before them all, as I knew a diversity of opinion prevailed among the company: however, as I thought it less evil to dissent from the opinion of a fellow-creature than to tell a falsity, I ventured to give my sentiments, and was satisfied with Johnson's answering, 'You are right, madam.'"

Her conscience was uneasy from visiting the opera, and also from attending Sunday parties, which were greatly in vogue.

She thus wrote on this subject:--

"London, 1775.
"'Bear me, some god, oh, quickly bear me hence,
To wholesome solitude, the nurse of--'

"'Sense' I was going to add, in the words of Pope, till I recollected that _pence_ had a more appropriate meaning, and was as good a rhyme. This apostrophe broke from me on coming from the opera, the first I ever _did_, the last I trust I ever _shall_ go to. For what purpose has the Lord of the universe made His creature man with a comprehensive mind? Why make him a little lower than the angels? Why give him the faculty of thinking, the powers of wit and memory; and, to crown all, an immortal and never-dying spirit? Why all this wondrous waste, this prodigality of bounty, if the mere animal senses of sight and hearing (by which he is not distinguished from the brutes that perish) would have answered the end as well? and yet I find the same people are seen at the opera every night--an amusement written in a language the greater part of them do not understand, and performed by such a set of beings!... Conscience had done its office before; nay was busy at the time; and if it did not dash the cup of pleasure to the ground, infused at least a tincture of wormwood into it. I _did_ think of the alarming call, 'What doest thou here, Elijah?' and I thought of it to-night at the opera."

The attractions of wealth and fame had not blinded her to the need of seeking satisfaction from a higher source. "For my own part, the more I see of the 'honoured, famed, and great,' the more I see of the littleness, the unsatisfactoriness of all created good; and that no earthly pleasure can fill up the wants of the immortal principle within."

She was much troubled by the extravagances of fashion in dress and adornments; and, although conforming to some extent to prevailing modes in order to avoid singularity, which she abhorred, she always dressed neatly and decorously, and never, through the whole of her life, wore an article of jewellery simply for ornament.

The following extract from a letter written by one of Hannah's sisters shows the cordial relationships with Dr. Johnson, and his interest in the five sisters. "Tuesday evening we drank tea at Sir Joshua's with Dr. Johnson. Hannah is certainly a great favourite. She was placed next him, and they had the entire conversation to themselves. They were both in remarkably high spirits; it was certainly her lucky night! I never heard her say so many good things. The old genius was extremely jocular, and the young one very pleasant. You would have imagined you had been at some comedy had you heard our peals of laughter. They, indeed, tried which could 'pepper the highest,' and it is not clear to me that the lexicographer was really the highest reasoner."

III.

CHARACTERISTICS, FRIENDSHIPS, AND EARLY LITERARY WORK.

Hannah More's flattering reception in London society, and the lively impression which she so quickly created, will give rise to some astonishment in the minds of many readers. She had not yet won reputation as an authoress; she did not possess the influence of wealth or of noble family; she was not remarkable for physical beauty; and she had none of the brazen ingenuity of patronage-hunters, by which admission is secured into the houses of distinguished people. She came to London a stranger, a plain schoolmistress from Bristol, and yet in a marvellously short time she was one of the best known characters in the ranks of the wise and great.