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Excellent Women

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Title: Excellent Women

Author: Various


        
Release date: November 1, 2003 [eBook #10129]
                Most recently updated: October 28, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EXCELLENT WOMEN ***

[Illustration: A STREET IN CAIRO. (See _Mary Louisa Whately_.)]

EXCELLENT WOMEN.

BY VARIOUS WRITERS.




CONTENTS.

ELIZABETH FRY. BY JAMES MACAULAY, M.A., M.D.
SELINA, COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON. BY REV. R. LOVETT, M.A.
RACHEL, LADY RUSSELL. BY JAMES MACAULAY, M.A., M.D.
FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL. BY REV. J.P. HOBSON, M.A.
HANNAH MORE. BY HENRY JOHNSON.
SUSANNA WESLEY. BY REV. J. CUNNINGHAM, M.A.
MRS. HEMANS. BY REV. S.F. HARRIS, M.A., B.C.L.
MADAME GUYON. BY WILLIAM NICHOLS.
ANN JUDSON. BY FRED. A. MCKENZIE.
MARY LOUISA WHATELY. BY REV. W.R. BOWMAN.
AGNES JONES. BY ELLEN L. COURTENAY.
ELIZABETH, DUCHESS OF GORDON. BY REV. S.F. HARRIS, M.A., B.C.L.




ELIZABETH FRY.

I.

BIRTH AND EARLY YEARS.

Elizabeth Fry was born in Norwich, on the 21st of June, 1780. She was
the third daughter of John Gurney, of Earlham, Norfolk, and Catherine
Bell, daughter of Daniel Bell, merchant in London. Mrs. Bell was a
descendant of the ancient family of the Barclays of Ury in
Kincardineshire, and granddaughter of Robert Barclay, the well-known
apologist of the Quakers.

John Gurney of Earlham, born in 1749, was educated in the principles of
the Society of Friends, but as he advanced in life, and associated with
persons of various Christian denominations, the strictness of his
religious opinions was much relaxed, and he showed liberality of
sentiment towards others, even if they were indifferent to all spiritual
concerns. In fact, in those times there was throughout England, in all
the churches, a decay of faith and a tendency to unbelief; against which
a few men made noble protest, till the religious Revival, led by
Whitefield and Wesley, inaugurated a happier era.

We are, therefore, not surprised to read that the daughters of John
Gurney, deprived in early life of their mother's care, were accustomed
to mingle with people entirely devoid of religion, although some of
these were accomplished and talented in their way. The father continued
formally to attend the Friends' Meeting; and the eldest daughter,
Catherine, being of a thoughtful mind and with desire for instruction,
was of use to her sisters in somewhat checking their love of worldly
pleasure and amusements. Of Elizabeth, it is said that in her young days
"she was singularly attractive; her figure tall, her countenance sweet
and pleasing, and her person and manners dignified and lovely. She was
gentle and quiet in temper, yet evinced a strong will." The visits of
different Friends, especially her uncle Joseph Gurney, who always had
much influence with her, both then and during her future life, helped to
confirm the good teaching of her mother in childhood.




II.

BEGINS A PRIVATE JOURNAL: WITH RECORD OF HER EXPERIENCES.

In 1793, when in her seventeenth year, Elizabeth Gurney began to keep a
private Journal.[1] In the early part of this record she frankly tells
her proceedings day after day, and describes the long and gradual
struggle that took place in her heart, which ended in her conversion by
the power of the Holy Spirit, and in her thorough consecration to the
service of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a most instructive record,
especially for the young.

[Footnote 1: This Journal was kept up by her till the close of her life,
and contains not only a full account of events, but a personal record of
her thoughts and experiences. It is preserved with pious care by members
of the family. _A Memoir of Elizabeth Fry_, published by her daughters,
in two volumes, was widely circulated after her decease. Innumerable
biographies and memoirs have since appeared, the best of which, by
Susanna Corder, contains selections from the private Journal.]

Her father, a man popular on account of his genial ways and social
disposition, making no objection, she joined, with some of her sisters,
in all the gaieties of life in Norwich. Prince William Frederick,
afterwards Duke of Gloucester, was then quartered with his regiment
there, and there was an incessant round of pleasures--balls, concerts,
and oratorios. Elizabeth Gurney entered into all the gaiety, but she was
ill at ease. She says, "I see the folly of the world. My mind is very
flat after this storm of pleasure." "I do believe if I had a little true
religion, I should have a greater support than I have now."

She had also before this time given expression to the better
dispositions of her natural heart, saying, "I must do what I can to
alleviate the sorrows of others; exert what power I have to increase
happiness; try to govern my passions by reason; and adhere strictly to
what I think right."

This condition of her mind, with alternate indulgence in vanity and
resolutions after better things, lasted till she was twenty-two years of
age, when she came to the settled conviction that "it is almost
impossible to keep strictly to principle without religion. I don't feel
any real religion; I should think those feelings impossible to obtain,
for even if I thought all the Bible was true, I do not think I could
make myself feel it: I think I never saw any person who appeared so
totally destitute of it."

It was something to arrive at the conviction that she lacked the one
thing needful; and that she felt that more than natural effort, even the
power of the Holy Spirit, was necessary to awaken her to new life, and
to change her heart. The arrival at Norwich of an American friend,
William Savery, "a man who seemed to overflow with true religion, and to
be humble, and yet a man of great abilities," confirmed her in her
dissatisfaction with her own state, and strengthened her desires after a
new life. Of him, she says, that "having been gay and disbelieving only
a few years ago, makes him better acquainted with the heart of one in
the same situation."




III.

FIRST VISIT TO LONDON.

While in this unsettled and partially awakened state of mind,
Elizabeth's father proposed to take her to see London, an offer which
she gladly closed with, without any thought beyond the excitement of new
scenes and pleasures. He took her there, and left her for several weeks,
under the care of a relative. It was a perilous trial for a young girl,
but the result was for her happy. The effect was to disgust her more
with the world and mere worldly amusements, and to fix her heart more
surely where true peace can alone be found.

In the middle of April, after having been seven weeks in London, her
father came to take her home, and very thankful she was to get back to
the quiet country. A few days after, a letter came from William Savery,
to whom she seems to have written asking his counsel. It was a long
epistle, full of wise and faithful advice, and showing most loving
interest in his young friend's welfare. A few sentences will give the
substance of his letter, which may be read by others with as much
advantage as it was by Elizabeth Gurney. "I know, my dear, thou hast,
and wilt have, many temptations to combat with: thou wilt, doubtless, be
frequently importuned to continue with thy gay acquaintance, in pursuit
of that false glare of happiness, which the world, in too bewitching and
deceitful colours, holds out to the unwary traveller, and which
certainly ends in blinding the intellectual eye from discovering the
pure source of soul-felt pleasure resulting from a humble heart, at
peace with its God, its neighbour, and itself.

"Thee asks my advice, my dear friend, and without any premeditation when
I sat down, I find I have been attempting to give it; but it is very
evident thou art under the special care of an infinitely better
Instructor, who has already uttered His soft and heavenly voice, to
teach thee that the first step towards religion is true humility;
because in that state only we can feel the need we have of an arm,
stronger than human, to lean upon, to lead us out of and keep us from
things which hinder our access to, and confidence in, that boundless
source of purity, love, and mercy; who, amidst all the vicissitudes of
time, is disposed to be our Shepherd, Guardian, and Friend, in whom we
may trust and never be afraid; but this blessed confidence is not,
cannot be enjoyed by the gay, the giddy, proud, or abandoned votaries of
this world."

Up to this time she had adopted none of the distinctive peculiarities of
the Society of Friends. Although from custom attending the meetings, she
did not confine herself to the services there; for we read such entries
as this, "I went to St. Peter's and heard a good sermon. The common
people seemed very much occupied, and wrapt up in the service, which I
was pleased to see; afterwards I went to the cathedral." She had already
commenced efforts to be useful to others, visiting the sick, and
teaching the children of her poorer neighbours, in Norwich, or at
Bramerton, then a quiet, pleasant village, where the family usually
resided in summer. "I have some thoughts," she says, "of increasing by
degrees my plan for Sunday evening, and of having several poor children,
at least, to read in the Testament and religious books for an hour. It
might increase morality among the lower classes if the Scriptures were
oftener and better read to them." Sunday school work she for herself
discovered to be a profitable, as she found it to be a delightful task.
All this time she was diligent in study, and in the intellectual culture
of her own mind, as we find from her Journal.

"I had a good lesson of French this morning, and read much in
Epictetus." Later on, we find her intent on the books of Dr. Isaac
Watts, his _Logic_ especially, which Dr. Johnson had commended strongly
to all who sought the "improvement of the mind."




IV.

AT COLEBROOK DALE, AND ON A JOURNEY TO WALES.

In the summer of 1798, John Gurney took the whole of his seven daughters
an excursion through parts of England and Wales. At Colebrook Dale,
where they saw several relatives, members of the Society of Friends,
Elizabeth Gurney received the deepest impressions. She was especially
struck with the veteran philanthropist, Richard Reynolds, who having
made a large fortune in his well-managed iron-works, spent his money and
time in seeking the moral good of the working people. At Colebrook Dale
also she spent some days with an elderly cousin, Priscilla Hannah
Gurney, cousin to the Earlham Gurneys by both father and mother, her
father being Joseph Gurney and her mother Christiana Barclay. Being left
by her father alone for some days with this cousin, the influence of the
visit was very powerful on her. "She was exactly the person to attract
the young; she possessed singular beauty, and elegance of manner. She
was of the old school; her costume partook of this, and her long
retention of the black hood gave much character to her appearance. She
had early renounced the world and its fascinations; left Bath, where her
mother and sister Christiana Gurney resided; became eventually a
minister among Friends; and found a congenial retreat for many years at
Colebrook Dale."

The travelling party went on to make a tour in Wales and to attend the
gathering of Friends at the Welsh half-yearly meeting. Most of the
Colebrook Dale Friends were present, and further converse with Priscilla
Gurney induced her niece to resolve openly to conform to Quaker customs,
though at what precise time she became professedly a Friend we are not
told. As to the costume, she was very slow in adopting it--not till some
time after returning to Norwich.

In this early Welsh journey a singular prediction was given in an
address by an aged Friend, Deborah Darby, who said of her that "she
would be a light to the blind, speech to the dumb, and feet to the
lame." "Can it be? She seems as if she thought I was to be a minister of
Christ. Can I ever be one?" asks Elizabeth Gurney in her Journal.




V.

THE LAST YEAR AT HOME.

The early months of 1799 were passed in Norwich, where she engaged in
works which she believed to be right and useful. She visited the poor,
doing what she could to relieve distress, yet cautious lest she should
appear to do too much, telling her friends that in such charity she was
only agent for her father, who approved of her thus helping others. She
held what are now called "mothers' meetings," reading and talking to a
little group of people about fifteen in number. Her "Sunday School" had
also gradually increased, till there were sometimes seventy poor
children receiving instruction from her. Cutting out and preparing
clothes for the poor, and occasional visits to hospitals, and once to
Bedlam to see a poor woman, were among the occupations of the winter
months. She had not yet, however, made any decisive change in her social
habits, for she occasionally accompanied her sisters to balls and other
entertainments, yet finding less and less satisfaction in what she in
calmer moments disapproved.

The doubtful, wavering condition of mind led her to think more seriously
of openly avowing her religious principles.

In the autumn her father travelled to the north of England, taking with
him his son Samuel and his daughters Priscilla and Elizabeth. He was
going to visit an estate belonging to him; also to attend the general
meeting at the Friends' School at Ackworth, after which they were going
to Scotland. All this expedition Elizabeth much enjoyed. At Ackworth she
took part in the examination of the scholars, and had pleasant
conversation with the headmaster Doctor Binns, and with Friends
assembled on the occasion. At York they saw the wonderful Minster; at
Darlington, found themselves in a living colony of Friends; and
Elizabeth was gratified by receiving a note and a book of grammar from
the famous Lindley Murray, whom she had met and taken tea with at York.
Durham, Newcastle, Alnwick Castle, and Edinburgh, were successively
visited, and afforded abundant materials for entries in her Journal, and
for agreeable recollections after returning home.




VI.

MARRIAGE, AND SETTLEMENT IN LONDON.

On August 19, 1800, Elizabeth Gurney was married, at the Friends'
Meeting House, Norwich, to Joseph Fry, youngest son of William Storrs
Fry, of London. He had been to Earlham, and made an offer of marriage,
during the preceding year, but nothing had then been settled, Elizabeth
Gurney being afraid that any change at that time might interfere with
her spiritual welfare and her newly-formed plans of active usefulness.
But after some correspondence, when the proposal was renewed, she felt
it right to give her consent. It was the custom more generally
prevailing than now for the junior partner to reside in the house of
business, and in accordance with this, Joseph and Elizabeth Fry prepared
to establish themselves in Mildred's Court in the City, a large,
commodious and quiet house, since pulled down in consequence of
alterations in London. The parents of her husband occupied a
country-house at Plashet, Essex. The Fry family, like that of the
Gurneys, had long been members of the Society of Friends; but unlike her
own parents, they had adhered strictly to the tenets and the habits of
Quakers. She thus came to be surrounded by a large circle of new
connexions, different from her own early associates at Norwich.

During the fortnight occupied by the Yearly Meeting, Mildred's Court
was an open house for the entertainment of Friends from all parts of the
kingdom, who would come in to midday dinner, whether formally invited or
not. On one occasion, when an American Friend, George Dilwyn, was a
guest, she commenced regular family worship, with the approval of her
husband, this now recognised duty not having been previously the
practice in the house.

Occasionally she got rest in staying at Plashet, but her life was a busy
one, and hardly favourable to spiritual advancement. At Plashet, on the
9th of seventh month (July) she wrote: "We live at home in a continual
bustle; engagement follows engagement so rapidly, day after day, week
after week, owing principally to the number of near connexions, that we
appear to live for others rather than ourselves. Our plan of sleeping
out so often I by no means like, and yet it appears impossible to
prevent it; to spend one's life in visiting and being visited
seems sad."

It is evident that the circumstances under which she began her married
life were too fatiguing for her, and to these were added the usual
domestic troubles at times with servants. All this told upon her, then
approaching her first confinement, depressing not merely her bodily
powers and natural energy, but in some degree her spiritual liveliness.
But she must attend to present duty, and when her first child, a girl,
was born, she was absorbed in the anxieties, pleasures and
responsibilities of a mother.

From the feeble state of her health, she was some time in regaining
strength enough to attend Meeting, or to resume her usual activity. She
was confined to her room when she heard the great tumult of joy, at the
thanksgiving and the illuminations, for restoration of Peace in 1801, on
the 10th of October; and the noise of the mob in the streets disturbed
her even in this quiet house. A fortnight later the parents went to
Norfolk, taking with them their little treasure, a lovely infant, which
gave great delight to the relatives there. The child was vaccinated by
Dr. Simms on their return to London, and the doctor's advice was taken
about the health of the mother, who then was in a state of much bodily
weakness, with a troublesome cough. These trials caused interruption in
the Journal for some weeks; but she and the child gradually got better;
and at the Yearly Meeting of 1802, she was able to attend almost all the
meetings, and to receive the customary crowd of visitors at her house;
among them her much-loved uncle, Joseph Gurney, whose presence was of
much service to her.




VII.

FAMILY CARES AND TRIALS.

In the autumn her husband took her a journey into the north of England,
going by Warwick, Stratford-upon-Avon, Chester, Liverpool, and the
Lakes, some of the excursions at which she went on horseback. She was
even able to climb Skiddaw, so that her health had been much restored by
the expedition. They were glad to get back to their comfortable home,
mother and child both better for the trip. Soon after their return, her
brother Samuel came to reside at Mildred's Court, to learn details of
the banking business, and it was to both a great pleasure to be near one
another. A second girl was born in March, 1803; and altogether she had
in future years a very large family, eleven sons and daughters;
regarding which it is sufficient to say that the succession of illnesses
caused so much nervousness and debility, that we can only the more
marvel at the indomitable spirit with which she afterwards undertook the
labours of charity and beneficence which have made her name so famous.
There were also, besides her personal illnesses, many events of trial
and of bereavement, as must necessarily happen where there are numerous
relatives. Writing at Earlham on the 20th of August, 1808, she says, "I
have been married eight years yesterday. Various trials of faith and
patience have been permitted me; my course has been very different from
what I expected; and instead of being, as I had hoped, a useful
instrument in the Church militant, here I am, a careworn wife and
mother, outwardly nearly devoted to the things of this life. Though, at
times, this difference in my destination has been trying to me, yet I
believe those trials that I have had to go through have been very
useful, and brought me to a feeling sense of what I am: and at the same
time have taught me where power is, and in what we are to glory; not in
ourselves, nor in anything we can be, or do; but we are only to desire
that He may be glorified, either through us, or others, in our being
something or nothing, as He may see best for us."

That same year in late autumn, her dear father-in-law Fry was at
Mildred's Court, very ill; and he died there, being carefully and
tenderly nursed by his daughter-in-law. She also, at risk to her own
family, went to nurse her sister Hannah, in what turned out to be
scarlet fever, about which she says, that "she did not know what malady
it was when she went; and that she was the only sister then at liberty
to wait on her." Through God's mercy, no harm came to her own family
from being there, and no one else took the complaint. "This I consider,"
she says, "a great outward blessing. May I be enabled to give thanks,
and to prove my thankfulness by more and more endeavouring to give up
body, soul, and spirit, to the service of my beloved Master."

In February, 1809, she and her husband left Mildred's Court to occupy
the house at Plashet; to her a pleasant change from the smoke and din of
the great city. Here, her sixth child, a boy, was born in autumn of that
year. Shortly afterwards she was summoned to Earlham, where she
witnessed the death of her own father. It was a heavy blow to her, but
she had the satisfaction of finding that his mind was at peace when he
drew near his end. "He frequently expressed that he feared no evil, but
believed that, through the mercy of God in Christ, he should be received
in glory; his deep humility, and the tender and loving state he was in,
were most valuable to those around him. He encouraged us, his children,
to hold on our way; and sweetly expressed his belief that our love of
good (in the degree we had it) had been a stimulus and help to him." At
the meeting before the funeral she resolved to say nothing, but her
uncle Joseph spoke words of comfort and encouragement; and then she
could not refrain from falling on her knees, and exclaiming, "Great and
marvellous are Thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are all Thy
ways, Thou King of saints; be pleased to receive our thanksgiving." She
could say no more, though intending to express thankfulness on her
beloved father's account. The great tenderness of her uncle gratified
her, "and my husband," she adds, "has been a true helpmate and sweet
counsellor."




VIII.

WORK AT PLASHET.

As soon as they were settled at Plashet, Elizabeth Fry formed and
carried out various plans for the poor. She established a girls' school
for the parish of East Ham, of which Plashet is a hamlet. The clergyman
and his wife gave their help, and a school of about seventy girls was
soon busily at work. The bodily wants of the poor claimed her attention.
A depot of calico and flannel was always ready, besides outer garments.
There was a cupboard well stocked with medicines. In the winter,
hundreds of the destitute poor had the benefit of a soup kitchen, the
boiler of an outhouse being applied to this use. About half a mile off,
on the high road between Stratford and Ilford, there was a colony of
Irish, dirty and miserable, as such settlements in England usually are.
Some she induced to send their children to school, and, with the
consent of the priest, circulated the Bible among them. Once when the
weather was extremely cold, and great distress prevailed, being at the
time too delicate to walk, she went alone to Irish Row, in the carriage
literally piled with flannel petticoats for the poor women, others of
the party at Plashet walking to meet her and help in the distribution.
Her children were trained as almoners very young, and she expected them
to give an exact account of what they gave, and their reasons for
giving. She was a very zealous and practical advocate for vaccination,
having been taught by the celebrated Dr. Willan, one of the earliest and
most successful followers of Dr. Jenner.

It was an annual custom for numbers of gipsies to pitch their tents in a
green lane near Plashet, for a few days, on their way to Fairlop Fair.
The sickness of a child causing the mother to apply for relief, led
Elizabeth Fry to visit the camp; and ever after she was gladly welcomed
by the poor wanderers, to whom she gave clothing and medicines, and
friendly faithful counsel. To those who could read she gave Bibles or
Testaments, and little books or pictures to the children. Thus she ever
abounded in good works for the benefit of others. All this she did in
intervals snatched from home duties, there being in the house a constant
succession of company and employments to occupy her. For her children
she prayed that they might grow in favour with their Heavenly Father, by
walking in humility and in the fear of God.

Such was the routine of work and duty at Plashet for several years after
she went to live there. She had interruption from various illnesses in
her family, five of her children being ill at one time; at other times
overbusied with domestic duties, as many as eighteen, in addition to the
family, once sleeping at the house. At the time of the Yearly Meeting
she had to entertain many visitors in London at Mildred's Court. There
were also occasional visits to Norfolk, during one of which she took
active part in founding the Norfolk and Norwich Bible Society. The
meeting at which this was inaugurated in 1811 was a most successful one.
Old Bishop Bathurst spoke with much decision and liberality, and he was
supported by many of the clergy, and ministers of all denominations, the
Mayor of Norwich presiding. About £700 was subscribed at the meeting.
Mr. Joseph Hughes, one of the secretaries, who, with his venerable
colleague Dr. Steinkopff, arranged the meeting, in an account written of
it, speaks of "a devout address by a female minister, Elizabeth Fry,
whose manner was impressive, and whose words were so appropriate, that
none present can ever forget the incident, or even advert to it without
emotions alike powerful and pleasing. The first emotion was surprise;
the second, awe; the third, pious fervour." Such was the impression made
by the hearty words spoken by Elizabeth Fry.




IX.

FIRST SIGHT OF NEWGATE PRISON.

It was in 1813 that the attention of Elizabeth Fry was first directed to
the condition of female prisoners in Newgate. At the beginning of that
year four members of the Society of Friends had visited some persons
about to be executed. One of the visitors, William Forster, asked Mrs.
Fry if nothing could be done to alleviate the sufferings of the women,
then living in the most miserable condition. The state of the prison was
at that time disgraceful to a civilised country, even after all John
Howard's labours. There were about three hundred women, with many
children, crowded in four small rooms, badly lighted, badly ventilated,
and with no bedding or furniture. They slept on the floor, some of the
boards of which were partially raised, to supply a sort of pillow for
rest; and here, in rags and dirt, the poor creatures cooked, washed, and
lived. Prisoners, tried and untried, misdemeanants and felons, young and
old, were huddled together, without any attempt at classification, and
without any employment, and with no other superintendence than was given
by one man and his son, who had charge of them by night and by day. When
strangers appeared amongst them, there was an outburst of clamorous
begging, and any money given went at once to purchase drink from a
regular tap in the prison. There was no discipline of any sort, and very
little restraint over their communication with the outside world, beyond
what was necessary for safe custody. Oaths and bad language assailed the
ear, and every imaginable horror distressed the eye of a stranger
admitted to this pandemonium. Although military sentinels were posted on
the roof of the prison, such was the lawlessness prevailing, that even
the governor dreaded having to go to the female prisoners' quarters.

Into this scene, accompanied only by Anna Buxton, did Elizabeth Fry
enter. Nothing was at the first visit done but giving warm clothing to
the most destitute; William Forster having told of the wretchedness
caused by the severity of the cold that January of 1813. What was then
witnessed of the sad and neglected condition of these women and children
sank deeply into the heart of the visitors, and Mrs. Fry formed the
resolution to devote herself, as soon as circumstances permitted, to the
work of prison reform, and improvement of the condition of female
prisoners.

The work was not wholly new to her. When not sixteen years of age, she
was deeply interested in the House of Correction in Norwich, and by her
repeated and earnest persuasion she induced her father to allow her to
visit it. She never forgot her experience there, and she afterwards said
that it laid the foundation of her future greater work.

Several years were yet to elapse before the time came for taking up
seriously the cause of prisons. These years were crowded with events of
various kinds, both in the great world and in the little world of her
own family circle. These events caused delays which we must suppose were
needed for preparing more perfectly the instrument to be used in the
great work. Every interval of time, amidst these years of busy and
disturbed life, was occupied in some active and necessary work. There
were meetings at various places, Westminster, Norwich, and also at
Plaistow, after the removal to Plashet brought the family within its
sphere. At most of the meetings she took part, both in the worship and
in visiting the poor or the sick. Then there were family cares,
troubles, and bereavements. The loss of little Elizabeth, the seventh
child, was a sore trial, a child of much promise, and with wisdom and
goodness beyond her years, early called to a heavenly home.

Her tenth child was born on the 18th of April, 1816, for whom she thus
prayed with thanksgiving--"Be Thou pleased, O Lord God Almighty, yet to
look down upon us, and bless us; and if Thou seest meet, to bless our
loved infant, to visit it by Thy grace and Thy love; that it may be
Thine in time, and Thine to all eternity. We desire to thank Thee for
the precious gift."

After a visit to Norfolk, in consequence of the death of the only
surviving son of her uncle Joseph Gurney; and to North Runcton, where
her elder daughters were residing; and having placed her sons at school,
she came to London, to commence the great work to which she now felt she
must devote her life.




X.

PRISON WORK.

Three years had passed since the first visit to Newgate in 1813. The
determination then formed to devote her life to prison-work had been
cherished ever since, though hindrances delayed the carrying out of her
purpose. Nothing but the constraining love of Christ could have thus
induced a woman of Elizabeth Fry's position and character, a woman
delicate and in feeble health, to devote herself to labours so arduous
and painful, sacrificing personal ease and domestic comfort, for the
sake of rescuing from destruction those who were sunk in vice and in
wretchedness. But she was following the example of Him who came to seek
and to save the lost. Her labour was not in vain in the Lord, for she
succeeded not only in greatly lessening the sum of human misery, but was
enabled to bring many to the knowledge and the love of the Saviour.

[Illustration:(From the picture by J. Barrett.) MRS FRY ADDRESSES THE
FEMALE PRISONERS IN NEWGATE [Engraved by Barlow.]]

In the years of preparation for her work, she made herself acquainted
with what had been done by others. At the suggestion of her
brother-in-law, the late Samuel Hoare, she accompanied him to Coldbath
Fields House of Correction, the neglected state of which much shocked
him. She had also visited different prisons with another brother-in-law,
the late Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, at that time occupied, with other
philanthropists, in forming a Society for reformation of juvenile
criminals. The interest was thus kept alive in her mind about the women
in Newgate, whom she again went to see about the end of 1816. On this
her second visit she asked permission to be left alone among the women
for some hours. As they flocked round her, she spoke to those who were
mothers, of the miserable state of their children, dirty and almost
naked, pining for want of proper food, air, and exercise. She said she
would like to get a school for the children, to which they gladly
assented. Then, after talking kindly to many of the women, she read to
them aloud the parable of the Lord of the vineyard, in the 20th chapter
of Matthew, making a few simple comments about Christ coming, and being
ready to save sinners even at the eleventh hour, so wonderful was His
pity and mercy. A few of the listeners asked who Jesus Christ was, so
ignorant they were; others feared that their time of salvation
was passed.

About the school, she said she would do all she could to help them, and
get others to assist; only without their own help she could not
undertake anything. She told them to think and to talk over her plan for
the school, and left it to them to select a teacher or governess from
among themselves. On her next visit they had chosen as schoolmistress a
young woman, Mary Connor, recently committed for stealing a watch. An
unoccupied cell was given to her as the schoolroom by the governor of
the prison. On the next day, Mrs. Fry with a friend, Mary Sanderson
(afterwards the wife of Sylvanus Fox), went to open the school. It was
intended for children and young women under twenty-five, for from the
small size of the room they were obliged to refuse admission to many
older women who earnestly sought to share in the instruction.

The poor schoolmistress, Mary Connor, proved well qualified for her
duties. She taught with the utmost carefulness and patience, and Mrs.
Fry had the satisfaction of seeing her become one of the first-fruits of
her Christian labour in the prison. A free pardon was granted to her
about fifteen months afterwards; but it proved an unavailing gift, for a
cough, which had attacked her some time before, ended in consumption.
She displayed, during her illness, much penitence and true faith, and
she died with a good hope of pardon through her Saviour.

It was in the visits to the school, where some lady attended every day,
that the dreadful misconduct of most of the women in the female side of
the prison was witnessed, swearing, gaming, fighting, singing, dancing;
scenes so bad that it was thought right never to admit young persons
with them in going to the school. But the way in which Mrs. Fry had been
received when she went there among them alone, made her sure that much
could be done by love and kindness, in dependence on Divine help, and
with the power of the Word of God applied by the Holy Spirit.

Eleven members of the Society of Friends, with one other lady, the wife
of a clergyman, formed themselves into an Association for the
Improvement of the Female Prisoners in Newgate. The object was stated to
be "to provide for the clothing, instruction, and employment of the
women; to introduce them to a knowledge of the Holy Scriptures; and to
form in them, as much as possible, those habits of order, sobriety and
industry, which may render them docile and peaceable while in prison,
and respectable when they leave it."

The concurrence of the sheriffs, of the City magistrates, and the
officials of the prison must be obtained, and they were too glad to
grant full permission to the visitors; all of them at the same time
expressing doubt as to the success of the undertaking, on account of the
women not submitting to the restraints it would be necessary to impose.
Mrs. Fry had foreseen this, and had drawn up rules to be observed. On a
fixed date the sheriffs met some of the ladies' association at the
prison; the women were assembled, and asked by Mrs. Fry if they were
willing to abide by the rules. With a unanimous shout they assured her
of their resolution to obey them strictly.

After the adoption of the rules, a visitor to the prison would scarcely
have recognised the place or the people. A matron, partly paid by the
Corporation and partly by the associated ladies, had the women, now
first divided into classes, under her superintendence. A yards-woman
acted as porter. The prisoners, who formerly spent their time wholly in
idleness or in card-playing, were now busily at work. A visitor, who
went to see the change of which he had heard, describes his being
"ushered to the door of a ward, where at the head of a long table sat a
lady belonging to the Society of Friends. She was reading aloud to about
sixteen women prisoners, who were engaged in needle-work. They all rose
on my entrance, curtsied respectfully, and then resumed their seats and
employment. Instead of a scowl, leer, or ill-suppressed laugh, I
observed upon their countenances an air of self-respect and gravity, a
sort of consciousness of their improved character, and the altered
position in which they are placed. I afterwards visited the other wards,
which were the counterparts of the first."

In 1818 there was a House of Commons Committee, before which Mrs. Fry
gave evidence. Her statement is so remarkable as to be worth recovering
out of a long-forgotten Blue Book. In answer to questions, she told the
Committee that "There are rules, which occasionally, but very seldom,
are broken; order has been very generally observed. I think I may say we
have full power amongst them, for one of them said it was more terrible
to be brought up before me than before the judge, though I used nothing
but kindness. I have never punished a woman during the whole time, or
even proposed a punishment to them.

"With regard to our work, they have made nearly twenty thousand articles
of wearing apparel, the generality of which, being supplied by the
shops, pays very little. Excepting three out of this number of articles
that were missing (which we really do not think owing to the women), we
never lost a single thing. They knit from about 60 to 100 pairs of
stockings and socks every month, and they spin a little. The earnings of
their work, we think, average about eighteen-pence per week for each
person. This is usually spent in assisting them to live, and helping to
clothe them.

"Another very important point is the excellent effect we have found to
result from religious education; we constantly read the Scriptures to
them twice a day; many of them are taught, and some of them have been
enabled to read a little themselves. It has had an astonishing effect. I
never saw the Scriptures received in the same way, and to many of them
they have been entirely new, both the great system of religion and of
morality contained in them."




XI.

OTHER BENEFICENT WORKS.

The work so successfully accomplished in Newgate was the precursor of
similar work undertaken in other prisons, not in London only, but all
over the country. With prisons now so much better managed, and with
multitudes of workers, single or associated, striving for the welfare of
prisoners, the record of Mrs. Fry's early labours may have lost much of
its interest. But it is well to state clearly the nature of her work,
and the spirit in which it was undertaken. Nor was it only in the
interior of the prisons that her labours were carried on. At that time
the transportation of criminals to penal settlements was very largely
resorted to, and the state of convict ships was as bad as that of the
worst prisons in England. Mrs. Fry made arrangements for the classifying
of female prisoners; for obtaining superintendents and matrons; for
providing schools and work on board ship; and in many ways attending to
the welfare of the poor convicts. She used to go down to almost every
ship that left the Thames, and saw everything done that was possible for
their comfort. In one case, that of the _Wellington_ convict ship,
hearing that patchwork was an easy and profitable work, she sent quickly
to different Manchester houses in London, and got an abundance of
coloured cotton pieces. When the ship touched at Rio Janeiro, the quilts
made by the women were sold for a guinea each, which gave them money to
obtain shelter on landing, till they could get into service or find
respectable means of subsistence. The children were taught to knit, and
sew, and read; the schoolmistress and monitors being themselves chosen
from the convicts, with guarantee of reward if they continued steady.

A more public and national benefit was the assistance given by Mrs. Fry
to those who sought revision of the penal code by Parliament. Sir Samuel
Romilly, Sir James Mackintosh, the Earl of Lansdowne, Mr. Wilberforce,
all acknowledged the help obtained in their parliamentary efforts to
amend the administration of the criminal law, in the facts and the
experience supplied by her from her long and successful efforts in
prison work. The popularity acquired by her brought all manner of
persons, the very highest in Church and in State, to seek to know her
and to do her honour. Even the aged Queen Charlotte, who had never taken
much interest in philanthropic work, and had paid undue attention to
small matters of court formalism and etiquette, was melted into
admiration of what this Quaker lady had done. On the occasion of a
public ceremony at the Mansion House, the Queen asked Mrs. Fry to be
present, and paid particular attention to her. The pencil of the artist
has left a record of this scene, as well as of the meetings in Newgate,
where she is addressing the prisoners. Some years later she was
introduced to Queen Adelaide by the Duke of Sussex, and it was the
beginning of profitable intercourse with one whom she esteemed on
account of her true piety and unbounded charity. With the Duchess of
Gloucester and others in exalted position she had frequent interviews;
and also more than once visited the Duchess of Kent, and her daughter,
then the Princess Victoria. She was always glad to meet persons of rank,
hoping to be of use to them personally, and also to increase their
interest in works of charity and of mercy. But she valued above all
aristocratic or royal recognition the good opinion of earnest and
devoted Christian workers. Of many gifts which she received, few were
more prized by her than a copy of the venerated Hannah More's _Practical
Piety_, received by her on a visit to Barley Wood, in which the author
wrote the following inscription: "To Mrs. Fry, presented by Hannah More,
as a token of veneration of her heroic zeal, Christian charity, and
persevering kindness, to the most forlorn of human beings. They were
naked and she clothed them; in prison and she visited them; ignorant and
she taught them, for His sake, in His name, and by His word who went
about doing good."

Repeated visits to Ireland, to Scotland, and to different parts of
England, Leicester, Derby, Nottingham, Plymouth, and the Channel
Islands, were made at different times in her latter years; forming
Prison Associations and fulfilling various engagements. In 1825 she
wrote: "My occupations are just now multitudinous. I am sensible of
being at times pressed beyond my strength of body and mind. But the day
is short, and I know not how to reject the work that comes to hand to
do." To enumerate all the good works which she originated or supported,
would require more space than a brief memoir could allow. Societies for
visiting prisons, libraries for the Coastguard men, reformatory schools
for juvenile offenders, were among the many institutions which she
established. An excellent institution at Hackney, bearing the name of
the Elizabeth Fry Refuge, for the reception of discharged female
prisoners, will long perpetuate the memory of her useful work.

In the summer of 1829, the family removed to a small but convenient
house in Upton Lane, adjoining the Ham House grounds, the residence of
her brother Samuel Gurney. In this place she passed most of her later
years, and from it she went out on her many expeditions in England or on
the Continent.




XII.

VISITS TO THE CONTINENT.

It was not till 1838, the year after the accession of Queen Victoria,
that Mrs. Fry paid her first visit to France. She saw most of the
prisons of Paris, and she had most pleasant interviews with King Louis
Philippe, the Queen, and the Duchess of Orleans. The Queen was much
pleased with the "Text Book," prepared some years before, and said she
would keep it in her pocket and use it daily. Rouen, Caen, Havre, as
well as Paris, were visited. A second journey in France, in 1839, began
at Boulogne, and thence by Abbeville to Paris. Here she again took
interest in the prisons, obtaining from the Prefect of Police leave for
Protestant ladies to visit the Protestant prisoners. Avignon, Lyons,
Nismes, Marseilles were visited, and the Protestants of the south of
France were much gratified by the meetings held at various places. With
the brothers Courtois of Toulouse they had much agreeable intercourse.
At Montauban they saw the chief "school of the prophets," where the
Protestant pastors are educated, They also went to Switzerland, enjoying
the scenery, and also the intercourse with the Duke de Broglie's
family, then at the house of the Baroness de Staël. Above a hundred
persons were invited to meet her, at the house of Colonel Trouchin, near
the Lake of Geneva. Several places were visited, and they returned by
Frankfort, Ostend, and Dover.

[Illustration: Elizabeth Fry]

In February, 1839, she was called to pay a visit to the young Queen
Victoria at Buckingham Palace. She went, accompanied by William Allen,
Lord Normanby, the Home Secretary, presenting them. The Queen asked
where they had been on the Continent. She also asked about the Chelsea
Refuge for Lads, for which she had lately sent £50. This gave
opportunity for Mrs. Fry thanking Her Majesty for her kindness, and the
short interview ended by an assurance that it was their prayer that the
blessing of God might rest on the Queen and her relatives.

In the autumn of that year she went to the Continent, with several
companions, her brother Samuel Gurney managing the travelling. They saw
Bruges, Ghent, Brussels, and the great prison of Vilvorde; Rotterdam,
Amsterdam, Pyrmont, and Hameln, where there were about four hundred
prisoners, all heavily chained. The prisons in Hanover at that time were
in deplorable condition, about which, at an interview with the Queen,
Mrs. Fry took occasion to speak.

From Hanover they went to Berlin, where a cordial welcome was received.
The Princess William, sister of the late King, was in warm sympathy with
Mrs. Fry's prison-work, and, after the death of Queen Louisa, was a
patron and a supporter of every good word and work. After Frankfort,
they went to Düsseldorf, and paid a most interesting visit to Pastor
Fliedner, at his training institution for deaconess-nurses, at
Kaiserswerth. Pastor Fliedner had witnessed the good results of Mrs.
Fry's labours at Newgate, and he had established a society called the
Rhenish Westphalian Prison Association for similar work in Germany.
Everywhere authority was given to see whatever the travellers desired,
so that this Continental journey was very prosperous and satisfactory.
They got back to England in the autumn of 1840.

In 1841 she once more went with her brother Joseph, who was going to
some of the northern countries of Europe. She knew that such a journey
would be fatiguing to a frame much enfeebled by illness and a life of
continuous exertion, but she still had an earnest desire to work for the
good of others, if it seemed the will of her Lord and Master. "I had
very decided encouragement," she says, "from Friends, particularly the
most spiritual among them;" and so, all difficulties being removed, she
started, with her brother and two young nieces.

The most interesting of all their North German experiences was visiting
the Prussian Royal Family, then in Silesia, whither, on leaving Berlin,
they had been invited to follow them. Mrs. Fry had always misgivings in
regard to her intercourse with exalted personages, chiefly, she herself
explained, lest in anything she said or did she might not "adorn the
doctrine of God her Saviour." But she was soon put at ease as to this,
on finding that she was coming to real Christians, as devoted as she was
to the service of the Master, for such there have generally been among
members of the House of Brandenburg. The King and Queen of Prussia were
at the time residing at Ermansdorf, and most of the Royal Family were
with them or in the neighbourhood. Addresses and conversations on
matters connected with prisons or with religious liberty were prominent
as usual, but the especial feature in the Silesian visit was the
intercourse with the poor Tyrolese refugees from Zillerthal, expelled
from their own country by the Austrian Government, and settled in
Silesia by the permission of the late King of Prussia. These people had
become converts from Romanism to the Reformed faith, by reading the
Bible and religious books. After much suffering, they were commanded to
quit their homes at short notice. The King of Prussia, on hearing of
this cruel edict, was willing to receive them all, and gave them a new
home in the domain of Ermansdorf, which they called Zillerthal, after
their native village. The Countess Reden, an excellent Christian lady,
was authorised to do everything for their comfort. She had cottages
built in the true Tyrolese style, with balconies and all the
picturesqueness of Swiss chalets. Schools were established, and every
means taken to benefit the exiled families. The good Countess Reden
arranged for Mrs. Fry meeting the Zillerthallers, who came in their
national costume, and heard words of kind and earnest counsel from the
English lady. A Moravian brother was brought a distance of forty miles
to be interpreter.




XIII.

IN LONDON AND IN PARIS

Not long afterwards Mrs. Fry's greatly enfeebled health compelled her
return to England. She landed at Dover on the 2nd of October. After a
short stay at Ramsgate with her husband and some of her family, she was
taken to Norfolk. There she received letters from the Countess Reden,
giving most gratifying tidings of the impressions made by her visit, and
of the practical reforms in prisons, effected by royal order since her
visit to Prussia. The chaplain of the great prison at Jauer stated that
above two hundred Bibles and Prayer-books had been purchased by the
prisoners out of their small earnings.

In the winter of 1841, a succession of family events from time to time
occupied her attention, her strength gradually improving, till at the
beginning of 1842 she again took part in public proceedings. Sir John
Pirie was Lord Mayor that year, and Lady Pirie had been a most valued
helper of Mrs. Fry in the cause of prison reform. They were anxious to
give her an opportunity, at the Mansion House, of bringing her influence
to bear on persons of position, and Sir John invited Prince Albert to
dine there, with the most prominent members of the Government.

It was in this year the King of Prussia made a state visit to England,
and the marked attention he showed to Mrs. Fry was much noticed. He went
to meet her at Newgate, and he also insisted on going to Upton to
dinner, where Mrs. Fry presented to the King her husband, eight
daughters and daughters-in-law, seven sons, and twenty-five
grandchildren, with other relatives, Gurneys, Buxtons, and Pellys--an
English family scene much enjoyed by the Prussian guest. Other visits
are described in her Journals, to the Queen Dowager, the Duchess of
Kent, the Duchess of Gloucester, and others of the Royal Family; having
interesting conversations about "our dear young Queen, Prince Albert,
and their little ones; about our foreign journey, the King of the
Belgians, and other matters." She often used to say she preferred
visiting prisons to visiting palaces, and going to the poor rather than
the rich, yet she felt it her duty to "drop a word in season" in high
places, and at the same time to be "kept humble, watchful, and faithful
to her Lord."

After the fatigues of the Continental and London season, she was glad in
the summer to occupy the house of her brother-in-law Mr. Hoare at
Cromer, and when there she saw much of the residents at Northrepps Hall,
The Cottage, and other places famed far and wide for their philanthropic
associations.

She got home to Upton Lane, and spent the winter there. The most
noticeable event mentioned is her meeting at dinner Lord Ashley, at her
son's house. "He is a very interesting man; devoted to promoting the
good of mankind, and suppressing evil--quite a Wilberforce, I think."
Such was her opinion of the good Earl of Shaftesbury in his early days.

In the spring of 1843, feeling her health to be somewhat restored, she
surprised her friends by announcing her wish to visit Paris again, to
complete works of usefulness formerly initiated there. More than once
she saw the widowed Duchess of Orleans at the Tuilleries, the only other
person present being her stepmother the Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg,
"an eminently devoted pious woman," by whom the Duchess of Orleans had
been brought up from childhood. They spoke much about the children of
the House of Orleans, and "the importance of their education being early
founded in Christian faith;" a desire which may be re-echoed in another
generation. Another important series of interviews was with M. Guizot,
then the chief statesman of France. Altogether the last visit to Paris
was a pleasant and useful expedition.




XIV.

LAST YEARS.

The end was now drawing nigh--the end of her busy, useful life. In June,
1843, Elizabeth Fry attended the Quarterly Meeting at Hertford, the last
time she left home expressly on religious service. She felt it her duty,
she said, "to encourage the weary, and to stir up to greater diligence
the servants of the Lord, who uses weak and foolish instruments for His
work," yet who is "made unto His people, wisdom, righteousness,
sanctification, and redemption."

Symptoms of increasing feebleness led to her removal that autumn from
her home at Upton Lane, to various places, Sandgate, Tunbridge Wells,
and Bath, in hope of recovering her strength. But she knew that her time
for active service was over. She frequently said to those about her, "I
feel the foundation underneath me sure." Her concern was not about
herself, but about those near and dear to her.

One of the last entries in her Journal is this: "I do earnestly entreat
Thee, that to the very last I may never deny Thee, or in any way have my
life or conversation inconsistent with my love to Thee and most earnest
desire to live to Thy glory; for I have loved Thee, O Lord, and desired
to serve Thee without reserve. Be entreated, that through Thy
faithfulness, and the power of Thy own Spirit, I may serve Thee unto the
end. Amen."

The year 1844 was one of much trial and affliction. Her husband's only
sister died of consumption on July 2nd; a grandson of much promise was
taken off at the age of twelve by the same disease towards the end of
July; in August and September her second son and two of his young
daughters were rapidly carried off by malignant scarlet fever. In the
spring of the following year the death of her brother-in-law, Sir Thomas
Fowell Buxton, excited her tenderest feelings. In fact, there was a
succession of bereavements, which caused her to say in her Journal,
"Sorrow upon Sorrow!" and after writing the long list of deaths, she
closes the entry with these words "O gracious Lord! bless and sanctify
to us all this afflicting trial, and cause it to work for our
everlasting good; and be very near to the widow and the fatherless; and
may we all be drawn nearer to Thee, and Thy kingdom of rest and peace,
where there will be no more sin, sickness, death, and sorrow."

As to her own health, she rallied a little after returning home from
Bath, but it was thought well to move from place to place for change of
air, and for the pleasure of communion with loved friends. The beginning
of 1845 saw her again in Norfolk, her husband and her daughter taking
her to Earlham, where she enjoyed, for several weeks, the companionship
of her brother, Joseph John Gurney, his wife, and other relatives. She
went frequently to Meeting at Norwich, drawn in her wheeled chair, and
thence ministering with wonderful life and power to those present.

The Annual Meeting of the British Ladies Society, an excellent
organisation for visiting and caring for female convicts, although
usually held at Westminster, was this year held in the Friends'
meeting-house at Plaistow. After the meeting, which she had addressed
several times in a sitting posture, she invited those present to come to
her home, and it was felt that her affectionate words at parting were
probably the last they would hear from her in this world.

As the year passed, it was thought that the air of the south coast might
be useful, and the house at Ramsgate, Arklow House, which proved her
last abode, was prepared for her. Her bed-chamber adjoined the
drawing-room, with pleasant views of the sea, in which she delighted.
While driving in the country, or being wheeled to the pier in a
Bath-chair, she still strove to be useful, distributing Bibles and
tracts, accompanied with a few words of kindly exhortation. Thus she was
employed till the close of her days in work for the Master. She
lingered, with gradual decay; and passed away, after a few days' illness
which confined her to bed, on the morning of the 13th of October, 1845,
in her 66th year. The last words she was heard to articulate, were "O
dear Lord, help and keep Thy servant."

There was much sorrow when she had ended her useful life; and when she
was taken to Barking for interment, a great number of people assembled,
and a solemn meeting was held. But far beyond any local gathering, her
example will continue to speak, through all the ages, and in many a
land. There are many workers in our time in every branch of Christian
usefulness, but the name and the work of Elizabeth Fry will be for ever
remembered.

JAMES MACAULAY, M.D.




SELINA, COUNTESS OF HUNTINGDON

Lady Selina Shirley, afterwards Countess of Huntingdon, was born August
24, 1707. She died June 17, 1791. Hence her long and useful life
extended over almost the whole of the eighteenth century. She witnessed
the rise of the great evangelical revival, which, beginning with the
Holy Club at Oxford, gradually spread over the United Kingdom and the
English colonies in America. For half a century she was a central figure
in that great religious movement which affected so deeply all classes of
the community, consecrating her position, her means, her influence to
the glory and the extension of His kingdom.




I.

EARLY YEARS.

Lady Selina Shirley was the second of the three daughters of Washington
Shirley, who in 1717 succeeded to the Earldom of Ferrars, being the
second to bear that title. She was born at Stanton Harold, a country
seat near Ashby de la Zouch, in Leicestershire. At a very early age she
gave evidence of intelligence above the average, of a retentive memory,
and of a clear and strong understanding. She manifested when but on the
threshold of womanhood that sound common sense and keen insight into
character and the true bearing of affairs which distinguished her so
pre-eminently in mature and late life. She was serious by temperament,
and when at the age of nine years she happened to meet the funeral
cortège of a child the same age as herself, she was attracted to the
burial, and used afterwards to trace her first abiding sense of the
eternal world to the profound impressions produced upon her mind by that
service. In after life she frequently visited that grave. She was
earnest in her study of the Bible, much given to meditation, and at
times almost oppressed by her convictions of the certainty and duration
of a future state. By her station and education she was compelled to go
out into society, and to take her place in circles in which religion was
as far as possible ignored. But her prayer was that she might not marry
into a frivolous, pleasure-seeking family.

On June 3, 1728, she became the wife of Theophilus, the ninth Earl of
Huntingdon, who resided at Donnington Park. This proved a happy union,
and even if, in later life, her husband was not always able fully to
share her beliefs and sympathise with her actions, he never threw any
obstacles in her way.




II.

HER CONVERSION.

At Donnington Park the Countess began the kindly and charitable deeds
for which she afterwards became so noted. Her religious feelings were
strong, and she strove earnestly to discharge fully her responsibilities
to both God and man. And yet, as she afterwards came clearly to see, she
was ignorant of the true nature of the Gospel, and she was attempting,
by strict adherence to prayer, meditation, right living, and charitable
action, to justify herself in the sight of God. But, all unknown to her,
the mighty religious awakening begun at Oxford in 1729, and publicly
preached in 1738 by Whitefield and the Wesleys, was destined to be the
cause of her spiritual awakening also. Lady Margaret Hastings and Lady
Betty Hastings, the Earl of Huntingdon's sisters, had come at Oxford
under the influence of the Methodist movement. While on a visit at
Ledstone Hall, in Yorkshire, they received great blessing under the
preaching of Benjamin Ingham, a well-known member of the Holy Club, whom
in 1741 Lady Margaret married. They both received the truth as it is in
Jesus, and were led by the influence of the Holy Spirit to labour and
pray for the salvation of their relatives and friends. In talking with
her sister-in-law one day, Lady Margaret affirmed "that since she had
known and believed in the Lord Jesus Christ for life and salvation she
had been as happy as an angel."

These words depicted an experience so different from her own that they
exerted a very abiding influence upon Lady Huntingdon's thoughts. She
felt her need, she was conscious of sin, and yet the more she strove to
attain salvation the further she seemed removed from it. "A dangerous
illness having, soon after, brought her to the brink of the grave, the
fear of death fell terribly upon her, and her conscience was greatly
distressed. She now perceived that she had beguiled herself with
prospects of a visionary nature; was entirely blinded to her own real
character; had long placed her happiness in mere chimaeras, and grounded
her vain hopes upon imaginary foundations. It was to no purpose that she
reminded herself of the morality of her conduct; in vain did she
recollect the many encomiums that had been passed upon her early piety
and virtue. Her best righteousness now appeared to be but 'filthy rags,'
which, so far from justifying her before God, increased her
condemnation. When upon the point of perishing, in her own apprehension,
the words of Lady Margaret returned strongly to her recollection, and
she felt an earnest desire, renouncing every other hope, to cast herself
wholly upon Christ for life and salvation. From her bed she lifted up
her heart to her Saviour, with this important prayer, and immediately
all her distress and fears were removed, and she was filled with peace
and joy in believing.... Her disorder from that moment took a favourable
turn; she was restored to perfect health, and, what was better, to
newness of life. She determined thenceforward to present herself to God,
as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable, which she was now convinced
was her reasonable service.... No sooner was her heart surrendered to
God, and her alienated affections restored to their original claimant,
than outward fruits appeared in her conversation: her renovation
introduced new light into her understanding, and new desires into her
heart and affections, and produced its effect upon her temper; not
wholly to eradicate its constitutional peculiarity, but to sanctify and
render it subservient to the glory of God and the good of souls." [1]

The Countess on recovering from her illness, hearing that John and
Charles Wesley were preaching near by, sent them a message wishing them
God-speed and testifying to her own purpose to live entirely for the
Saviour who had died for her. Her friends failing in their attempt to
persuade her husband to exert his influence against what they considered
fanaticism, enlisted the aid of Dr. Benson, Bishop of Gloucester, who
had been Lord Huntingdon's teacher. But the bishop, as many another in
later days, found that the Countess was fully equal to giving cogent
reasons for her faith and practice. It was he who had ordained
Whitefield, and to the latter the bishop ascribed the change in her
opinion. So far from accepting the bishop's view, the Countess urged
home upon him her opinion of _his_ duty, enforcing her argument with
such apt quotations from the Bible, the Articles, and the Homilies, that
at length he left her presence openly regretting the fact that he had
ever laid his hands upon Whitefield's head. "My Lord," was the last word
of the Countess, "mark my words: when you are on your dying bed that
will be one of the few ordinations you will reflect upon with
complacence." It is pleasing to know that when on his death-bed in 1752,
this prelate sent to Whitefield, and asked to be remembered in
his prayers.

[Footnote 1: _The Life and Times of Selina, Countess of Huntingdon_,
vol. 1. pp. 14, 15.]




III.

HELP IN THE WORK OF WESLEY AXD WHITEFIELD.

Although in 1738 and 1739 Wesley and his followers frequented the
Moravian meeting-house in Neville's Court, Fetter Lane, the first home
of organised Methodism in London was the Foundry in Moorfields. Lady
Huntingdon had identified herself with the Methodists, and thus was
enabled to exert great influence upon a movement, small at first, but
soon fraught with most potent consequences, the employment by Wesley of
lay evangelistic agency. Wesley had already allowed some of his lay
helpers to expound, but not to preach. Yet here, as in his strong desire
to keep the Methodist movement within the borders of the Established
Church, he was to find that his personal view, if enforced, would hinder
the work which was so manifestly of God, and with his clear common sense
he at once gave way. During 1739 Lady Huntingdon had frequently heard
Thomas Maxfield pray, and, according to her biographer, it was at her
suggestion that he began to expound the Scriptures. Wesley had been
summoned from London, and no clergyman being available at that moment,
he left Maxfield in charge, to pray with the members of the society and
to give them such helpful advice as he could. In a letter to Wesley,
written either at the close of 1739 or the beginning of 1740, Lady
Huntingdon writes of Maxfield: "He is one of the greatest instances of
God's peculiar favour that I know: he is raised from the stones to sit
amongst the princes of His people. The first time I made him expound,
expecting little from him, I sat over against him and thought what a
power of God must be with him to make _me_ give any attention to him.
But before he had gone over one-fifth part, any one that had seen me
would have thought I had been made of wood or stone; so quite immovable
I both felt and looked. His power in prayer is quite extraordinary."

The border line between such expounding and preaching is very narrow,
and it is hardly to be wondered at that Maxfield soon found that he was
not only preaching, but doing so with the most true and certain warrant
of fitness for the office--souls were being born again under his
ministrations. On hearing such unexpected tidings, Wesley hurried back
to London, and entering his house next door to the Foundry with clouded
face, replied to his mother's question as to the cause, "Thomas Maxfield
has turned preacher, I find." Great was his surprise to receive the
rejoinder, "Take care what you do with respect to that young man, for he
is as surely called of God to preach as you are." Such testimony from
such a source could not fail to move John Wesley. He wisely heard for
himself, and expressed his judgment in the words of Scripture--"It is
the Lord: let Him do what seemeth Him good."

Thus Methodism passed through what might have been its first great
crisis. Thus it equipped itself to keep pace with the ever-increasing
claims of its work. The quick spiritual insight of Lady Huntingdon
recognised both the need and the fitness of the hitherto
unrecognised worker.

One of the first members of the noble band of itinerating preachers thus
called into the active exercise of their spiritual gifts was David
Taylor, a servant in Lord Huntingdon's household, who did much fruitful
evangelistic work in the villages surrounding Donnington Park. It was
this man who stood by John Wesley's side when the drunken curate of
Epworth refused him admission to what had been his father's pulpit, and
who announced to the congregation as they left the church that in the
afternoon Wesley would preach in the graveyard. And there that same
afternoon Wesley, standing upon his father's tombstone, preached to a
congregation, the like of which Epworth had never seen before, the first
of a series of sermons that afterwards became famous.

Having thus aided one of the brothers during a critical administrative
stage, Lady Huntingdon shortly afterwards was of great service to the
other in a crisis of spiritual experience. Soon after the organisation
of the first Methodist Society, the "still" heresy developed among the
Moravian members of the Fetter Lane Chapel. This was the view, "that
believers had nothing to do with ordinances--were not subject to
them--and ought to be _still_; that they ought to leave off the means of
grace, and not go to church; not to communicate; not to search the
Scriptures; not to use private prayer till they had living faith; and to
be _still_ till they had it." [1] Wesley used all his influence and all
his persuasive power to counteract these opinions, but without avail. At
length he decided to sever all connection with those who insisted upon
acting in accordance with them, and removed Methodism to the Foundry.
Charles Wesley at first went cordially with his brother, but at a later
date he ceased attending the Foundry, and manifested signs of a desire
to return to Fetter Lane. Lady Huntingdon, for whose views he
entertained feelings of the deepest respect, remonstrated with him, and
in conjunction with John Wesley's efforts kept him from a step that
might have proved fatal to his further usefulness. In a letter written
to John Wesley in October, 1741, Lady Huntingdon writes: "Since you left
us the _still ones_ are not without their attacks. I fear much more for
your brother than for myself, as the conquest of the one would be
nothing to the other.... I comfort myself very much that you will
approve a step with respect to them your brother and I have taken. No
less than his declaring open war with them.... Your brother is also to
give his reasons for quite separating. I have great faith God will not
let him fall; He will surely have mercy on him, and not on him only, for
many would fall with him."

[Footnote 1: _Life and Times of Selina, Countess of Huntingdon_, vol. 1.
p. 36.]




IV.

FAMILY BEREAVEMENTS.

Lady Huntingdon at this period of her life was called upon to endure
some very heavy domestic griefs. She had to mourn for two of her sons,
George, aged thirteen, and Fernando, aged eleven, who died of small-pox.
They were both buried in Westminster Abbey. On October 13, 1746, she
lost her husband, who was carried off by an apoplectic seizure, in his
fiftieth year. The Countess had only just passed her thirty-ninth
birthday when this last great sorrow came upon her. She herself was at
the same time tried by a long and severe illness. The effect of these
repeated and heavy afflictions was to further develop her character, and
to increase the devotion and self-sacrifice with which she gave herself
to works of benevolence and to the extension of the Saviour's kingdom.
On Lord Huntingdon's death, besides having entire control of her own
means, she became sole trustee of the children and their fortune. In
regard to the latter she proved herself a good steward; the former she
devoted very largely to the evangelistic and charitable work in which
she delighted.

Early in 1747 she wrote to Dr. Doddridge: "I hope you will comfort me by
all the accounts you can gather of the flourishing and spreading of the
glad tidings. Oh, how do I lament the weakness of my hands, the
feebleness of my knees, and coolness of my heart! I want it on fire
always, not for self-delight, but to spread the Gospel from pole to
pole." And in other letters: "My heart wants nothing so much as to
dispense _all_--_all_ for the glory of Him whom my soul loveth." "I am
nothing--Christ is all; I disclaim, as well as disdain, any
righteousness but His. I not only rejoice that there is no wisdom for
His people but that from above, but reject every pretension to any but
what comes from Himself. I want no holiness He does not give me, and I
could not accept a heaven He did not prepare me for; I can wish for no
liberty but what He likes for me, and I am satisfied with every misery
He does not redeem me from; that in all things I may feel that without
Him I can do nothing.... To preach Christ and His blessing upon
repentance over the earth is the commission--the event must be with
Him--all else is from man and of man. May the Lord give us all such
love, to live and die to Him and for Him alone."

At a later period in life, May, 1763, she sustained another serious
bereavement in the loss of her youngest daughter. Although only
twenty-six years of age, she had long been a great comfort to her
mother, who, writing after her death, called her "the desire of my eyes
and the continual pleasure of my heart." Many were the letters of
sympathy she received from Venn, Berridge, Romaine, Fletcher, and
others; but it was a loss that could not be replaced. But it could and
it did help to purify still more the loving and trusting heart which
could see, even as Fletcher urged, in so sore a trial, "mercy rejoicing
over judgment." One of the sayings of her daughter on that death-bed
must often have come to the mother's mind in later days, "I am as happy
as my heart can desire to be."




V.

WHITEFIELD AS LADY HUNTINGDON'S CHAPLAIN.

Prior to 1744, the date of Whitefield's first voyage to the American
colonies, the Countess had made his acquaintance, and had often heard
him preach. She, in common with multitudes of her contemporaries, had
come under the extraordinary spell of his pulpit oratory. In 1748, after
a four years' absence in North America, Whitefield returned to England,
and at her request Howel Harris, the famous Welsh evangelist, brought
the great preacher to Lady Huntingdon's house in Chelsea. In a reply to
a letter sent the next day, conveying the request that he would come
again, as "several of the nobility desired to hear him," Whitefield
wrote, August 21, 1748: "How wonderfully does our Redeemer deal with
souls! If they will hear the Gospel only under a ceiled roof, ministers
shall be sent to them there. If only in a church or a field, they shall
have it there. A word in the lesson, when I was last at your Ladyship's,
struck me, 'Paul preached privately to those who were of reputation.'
This must be the way, I presume, of dealing with the nobility who yet
know not the Lord. Oh, that I may be enabled, When called to preach to
any of them, so to preach as to win their souls to the blessed Jesus! I
know that you will pray that it may be so."

Thus began the series of drawing-room services which were attended by
so many of those who were high in rank, and at which some of the most
famous incidents in Whitefield's career occurred. At these services the
Word of God often found an entrance into worldly hearts, and once and
again Whitefield tried to win for the Saviour such men as Chesterfield
and Bolingbroke. Lady Huntingdon made him one of her chaplains, and in
order to afford greater facilities for this special work, she removed
from Chelsea to a house in Park Street, and for six weeks Whitefield
carried on these special services, in addition to all his other work.
When, for his own spiritual refreshment, he left London for an
evangelistic tour to Bristol, Exeter, and Plymouth, this special work
was continued by John and Charles Wesley, and several of their
fellow-workers.

The young Earl of Huntingdon came of age in 1750, and the Countess gave
up Donnington Park to him, removing her household to Ashby, living there
with her other children and two of the Ladies Hastings. Towards the
close of 1749 Whitefield desired, if possible, with the aid of Lady
Huntingdon, to organise the vast numbers who had been greatly blessed by
his evangelistic work, into a corporate body, like that which the clear,
practical wisdom of John Wesley had created for the societies which
looked up to him as leader. Whitefield had already seriously differed
from Wesley on the tenets of Calvinism and much trouble was to ensue in
after years from a renewal of the controversy between the two sections,
Calvinistic and Arminian Methodism. Lady Huntingdon seems to have been
attracted by Whitefield's wish and plan; though it was not at this time
destined to bear fruit. But early in 1750 she exerted herself, and with
success, to bring about a renewal of thoroughly friendly relations
between the two great leaders. On January 19 and 26, 1750, Whitefield
and Wesley took part in combined services; Wesley reading prayers and
Whitefield preaching on the former, these respective functions being
reversed on the latter date. Until Whitefield's death this harmony was
never again broken.

At this period Whitefield paid several visits to Ashby. Here and in
London he had fellowship with Dr. Doddridge, whose MS., "from
Corinthians to Ephesians," of _The Family Expositor_, was nearly
consumed by fire at Ashby; Hervey, the author of that well-known book of
which so many have heard but so few have read, _Meditations among the
Tombs_; Madan, a lawyer who, going to hear John Wesley, in order that he
might mimic him before his companions, listened to a sermon on the text,
"Prepare to meet thy God," was converted by it, and upon his return,
said in reply to the question, "Have you taken off the old Methodist?"
"No, gentlemen, but he has taken me off!" and from that day devoted
himself to the service of God; Moses Browne, afterwards Vicar of Olney,
and many others.

"Good Lady Huntingdon," he wrote from Ashby, "goes on acting the part of
'a mother in Israel' more and more. For a day or two she has had five
clergymen under her roof, which makes her Ladyship look like a good
archbishop with his chaplains around him. Her house is a Bethel; to us
in the ministry it looks like a college. We have the sacrament every
morning, heavenly conversation all day, and preach at night: this is to
live at Court indeed."

Lady Huntingdon's London house continued for very many years to be a
centre of evangelistic effort on behalf of many of the highest rank and
social status in the capital. In addition to Whitefield, John and
Charles Wesley, Romaine, Madan, Venn, and others preached. Among those
who were converted by these sermons were the wife and sister of Lord
Chesterfield; the latter, Lady Gertrude Hotham, opening her house for
the preaching of the Gospel. Lady Huntingdon was no recluse.
Uncompromising as she was in every matter where religious principle was
involved, she was always ready to avail herself of the true privileges
of pleasure which her rank and position enabled her to enjoy. In this
way she cultivated the acquaintance of many of the distinguished
personages of her time. She was fond of music, and in early life had
become acquainted with Handel. In the closing years of the great
composer, the intimacy was renewed, and not long before his death she
paid him a visit, of which she has left this account: "I have had a most
pleasing interview with Handel, an interview which I shall not soon
forget. He is now old, and at the close of his long career; yet he is
not dismayed at the prospect before him. Blessed be God for the comforts
and consolations which the Gospel affords in every situation and in
every time of our need! Mr. Madan has been with him often, and he seems
much attached to him." With Giardini also, whose skill on the violin was
at that time the theme of universal admiration, Lady Huntingdon was well
acquainted. He often played at concerts of sacred music given at her
house, and those of Lady Gertrude Hotham and Lady Chesterfield. At the
request of the Countess he composed tunes for some of the hymns in
frequent use at her chapels, thus giving Horace Walpole occasion to
remark, "It will be a great acquisition to the Methodist sect to have
their hymns set by Giardini." Tomaso Giordani, another Italian, composed
at her request the old familiar tune "Cambridge," for the hymn in the
Countess's book commencing, "Father, how wide Thy glory shines!"




VI.

LADY HUNTINGDON'S CHAPELS.

From the appointment of Whitefield as her chaplain, Lady Huntingdon took
a commanding position in the development of that section of Methodism
which looked rather to Whitefield than to Wesley as its leader, and
which held Calvinistic views. Around the Countess gradually gathered
such fellow-workers as Romaine, Venn, Toplady, Fletcher of Madeley, and
many others equally with them aflame with love for the perishing souls
of men. Religion having become largely a mere matter of outward form
where it was not wholly ignored, great numbers of the clergy being both
ignorant of the true nature of the Gospel and very unwilling that others
should preach it, Lady Huntingdon was led to establish chapels in
different parts of Great Britain. In some parts she rented buildings; in
others she built chapels; and gradually a considerable number of places
of worship, largely originated by her, and almost wholly sustained by
her, came into being. She herself always wished these to remain
connected with the Church of England. She endeavoured to keep their
pulpits supplied with clergymen of her way of thinking, and for a time
succeeded. But the growth of the work early led her to apply the free
agency of lay preachers; and later in life the refusal of the Church of
England, upheld by the Courts, to consider her action legal in
considering them to belong to the Established Church, drove her in
self-defence to constitute her chapels into a connexion with a legal
standing and rights. The hostility on the part of many within the
Established Church of the eighteenth century, to true New Testament
ministry and practice, on the one hand expelled the Wesleyans from the
National Church, and on the other compelled Lady Huntingdon to add one
more to the dissenting bodies.

The most noted of the churches which thus came into being were those at
Brighton, Bath, and Spa Fields. The first named stood upon the site in
North Street, now occupied by a later, larger, and more ornate
structure. Whitefield visited Brighton, first preaching there in the
open air in 1759. This led to the formation of a Christian Society, and
in 1761 Lady Huntingdon built a chapel, to defray the cost of which she
sold her jewels, realising in this way the sum of nearly £700. The
building was opened in 1761, Martin Madan conducting the first services,
and being immediately succeeded by such notable preachers as Romaine,
Berridge, Venn, and Fletcher.

Lady Huntingdon's connection with Bath began as early as 1739, and for
the next twenty-five years she was frequently in that fashionable
resort; but it was not until 1765 that she bought the land and
established the famous Vineyards Chapel. On October 6, 1765, the chapel
was dedicated, and Whitefield preached the first sermon. "Though a wet
day," he wrote, "the place was very full, and assuredly the Great
Shepherd and Bishop of souls consecrated and made it holy ground by His
presence." Romaine and Fletcher often preached at Bath in the early
months of the chapel's history, and the latter thus referred to his
ministry: "This place is the seat of Satan's gaudy throne; the Lord
hath, nevertheless, a few names here, who are not ashamed of Him, and of
whom He is not ashamed, both among the poor and among the rich."

It was in this chapel that there was the noted "Nicodemus Corner," a
seat carefully shrouded from the public gaze, where sometimes a nobleman
and sometimes a bishop heard the goodness of the Gospel.

In this connection may be quoted the following anecdote, given in the
Life of Mary Anne Schimmelpenninck, who visited Bath with her mother in
1788. She writes:--

"My mother grew better, she frequently took me with her to the Pump
Room, and she sometimes told me anecdotes of those she had seen there
when a child. On one occasion, when the room was thronged with
company--and at that time the visitors of Bath were equally
distinguished for rank and fashion--a simple, humble woman, dressed in
the severest garb of the Society of Friends, walked into the midst of
the assembly and began an address to them on the vanity and follies of
the world, and the insufficiency of dogmatic without spiritual religion.
The company seemed taken by surprise, and their attention was arrested
for a few moments; as the speaker proceeded, and spoke more and more
against the customs of the world, signs of disapprobation appeared.
Amongst those present was one lady with a stern yet high-toned
expression of countenance, her air was distinguished; she sat erect, and
listened intently to the speaker. The impatience of the hearers soon
became unrestrained. As the Quaker spoke of giving up the world and its
pleasures, hisses, groans, beating of sticks, and cries of 'Down, down!'
burst from every quarter. Then the lady I have described arose with
dignity, and slowly passing through the crowd, where a passage was
involuntarily opened to her, she went up to the speaker, and thanked
her, in her own name and in that of all present, for the faithfulness
with which she had borne testimony to the truth. The lady added, 'I am
not of your persuasion, nor has it been my belief that our sex are
generally deputed to be public teachers; but God who gives the rule can
make the exception, and He has indeed put it in the hearts of all His
children to honour and venerate fidelity to His commission. Again I
gratefully thank you.' Side by side with the Quaker she walked to the
door of the Pump Room, and then resumed her seat. This lady was the
celebrated Countess of Huntingdon." [1]

[Footnote 1: _Autobiography of Mary Anne Schimmelpenninck_, vol. 1. pp.
89, 90.]




VII.

THE COLLEGE AT TREVECCA AND CHESHUNT.

So rapidly did places of worship multiply under the Countess's fostering
care, that very shortly after the opening of the Vineyards at Bath, the
question of supplying preachers for their pulpits became so pressing
that finally the scheme of founding a college for the training of
suitable preachers took definite shape. Lady Huntingdon had already
contributed liberally to Western College, Plymouth, Brecon College, and
Dr. Doddridge's Academy at Northampton. She held much consultation with
her most trusted advisers, Whitefield, Wesley, Venn, Romaine, and
others. All were favourable except Berridge, who, although "the most
dubious man in the world about his own judgment," yet wrote, "Will not
Jesus choose, and teach, and send forth His ministering servants now, as
He did the disciples aforetime; and glean them up when, and where, and
how He pleaseth? The world says no, because they are strangers to a
Divine commission and a Divine teaching. And what if these asses blunder
about the Master's meaning for a time, and mistake it often, as they did
formerly? No great harm will ensue, provided they are kept from paper
and ink, or from a white wall and charcoal."

In 1768 Lady Huntingdon fixed upon an old mansion at Trevecca in
Brecknockshire, as the home of the new experiment. Her relations with
Welsh evangelistic work had long been close and helpful, and by means of
Howel Harris, Trevecca had become familiar to her. Fletcher of Madeley
was appointed President, although he was not to reside there
permanently; and Joseph Easterbrook resident tutor. Students soon began
to appear, the first on the roll being in all probability James
Glazebrook, a collier in Fletcher's parish. To Fletcher the Countess had
sent the circular describing what she wished the college to be, and
asking him, in common with all her ministerial friends, whether he could
recommend any suitable persons as students. He replied: "After having
perused the articles and looked round about me, I designed to answer
your Ladyship that out of this Galilee ariseth no prophet. With this
resolution I went to bed, but in my sleep was much taken up with the
thought and remembrance of one of my young colliers who told me some
months ago that for four years he had been inwardly persuaded that he
should be called to speak for God. I looked upon the unusual impression
of my dream as a call to speak to the young man, and at waking designed
to do so at the first opportunity. To my great surprise he came to
Madeley that very morning, and I found upon inquiry that he had been as
much drawn to come as I to speak to him."

The man who in this remarkable way secured the recommendation and
interest of Fletcher was the first of what is now the long roll of good
and useful men whom the college has sent forth into the evangelical
ministry at home and into the great mission field of the world.

Trevecca House was formally opened and dedicated as a theological
college on August 24, 1768, the anniversary of the birthday of the
foundress. Whitefield preached the sermon, choosing as his text Exodus
xx. 24, "In all places where I record My name, I will come unto thee and
bless thee." The next Sunday he addressed a congregation of some
thousands gathered in the courtyard of the college, from the words,
"Other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is
Jesus Christ."

From its foundation the college has combined both the literary and
theological training. While estimating literary and theological learning
at a very high value, the aim has always been first and foremost to
train earnest spiritual evangelistic preachers. The college has been
almost as much a home as a seminary. The students have always resided
within its walls, enjoying intimate relationship with each other, and
friendly intercourse with the principal. Lady Huntingdon made the
college in a very real sense her home, and the institution has never
lost the impress of her own fervent piety and the saintly benediction
bestowed upon it by Fletcher.

From the very beginning the students combined regular preaching, either
in the village near Trevecca, or in the pulpits of the Countess's
chapels, with the prescribed courses of study. The college prospered at
once, and even Berridge bestowed his characteristic blessing upon it. "I
am glad to hear of the plentiful effusion from above on Talgarth. Jesus
has now baptized your college, and thereby shown His approbation of the
work. You may therefore rejoice, but rejoice with trembling. Faithful
labourers may be expected from thence; but if it is Christ's college, a
Judas will certainly be found among them."

Mr. Easterbrook's stay at Trevecca was brief. He left early in 1769,
and was succeeded, on John Wesley's recommendation, by Joseph Benson,
afterwards so eminent in the Methodist movement, and the biographer of
Fletcher. But prior to his coming into residence the first anniversary
was held, and the occasion was utilised for the holding of a series of
very remarkable services. From August 20-23 crowds of people flocked to
hear sermons twice daily in the courtyard by Shirley, Fletcher,
Rowlands, Peter Williams, Howel Harris, and others. On August 24, 1769,
John Wesley administered the sacrament to his fellow-ministers, the
students, the Countess and her household. At ten o'clock "Mr. Fletcher
preached an exceedingly lively sermon in the court; when he had finished
William Williams preached in Welsh till about two o'clock. At two they
all dined with Lady Huntingdon; and baskets of bread and meat were
distributed among the people in the court, many of whom had come from a
great distance. Public service commenced again at three o'clock, when
Mr. Wesley preached in the court, then Mr. Fletcher; about five the
congregation was dismissed." "Truly," wrote Lady Huntingdon, "our God
was in the midst of us, and many felt Him eminently nigh. The gracious
influence of the Spirit seemed to rest on every soul."

Although Fletcher did not reside at Trevecca, he frequently visited it
during the first three years of its history. "Being convinced that to be
filled with the Holy Ghost was a better qualification for the ministry
of the Gospel than any classical learning (although that too be useful
in its place), after speaking awhile in the schoolroom, he used
frequently to say, 'As many of you as are athirst for this fulness of
the Spirit, follow me into my room.' On this many of them have instantly
followed him, and there continued for two or three hours, wrestling like
Jacob for the blessing."

Lady Huntingdon spent much of her time at Trevecca, and for some years
bore the entire cost of the college, expending upon it from £500 to £600
a year. The lease of the property at Trevecca expired within a few
months of the Countess's death in 1791, and it having become imperative
to find a new location, the college was in 1792 removed to Cheshunt in
Hertfordshire, about twelve miles from London, where it has ever since
continued to flourish.

During the century and a quarter of its existence Cheshunt College has
rendered good service to the Church of Christ. Among the students
educated at Trevecca were such men as John Clayton of the Weigh House
Chapel, Roby of Manchester, and Matthew Wilks of the Tabernacle. The
longer roll of those who entered after 1792 contains such names as
Joseph Sortain of Brighton, and James Sherman of Surrey Chapel, in the
ministry of the home churches; and is peculiarly rich in men who have
done and are still doing noble service in the great mission field of the
world. The flame of missionary enthusiasm has ever burnt brightly at
Cheshunt. Among the many who have gone to their well-earned rest are men
like Dr. Turner of Samoa, and James Gilmour of Mongolia. In the
succession of able and devoted workers for the Church at home and for
the heathen abroad, sent forth year by year, the good work begun at
Trevecca is still living and growing.




VIII.

THE CALVINISTIC CONTROVERSY.

The leaders of the great revival of the eighteenth century were divided
into two great groups, the one headed by John Wesley, the other by
George Whitefield. The Calvinism of the latter at times seemed
dangerously rigid to the former; while Whitefield sometimes spoke and
acted as though he feared that in preaching free grace Wesley lost sight
altogether of the Divine sovereignty. So sharply marked was the
divergence of view that for a time it interfered with their
co-operation. Mainly by Lady Huntingdon's influence, as we have seen, in
1750 unity was restored. For twenty years the two wings of the
evangelical army laboured harmoniously; but in 1770 the doctrinal strife
was renewed in a way and with a vehemence that separated the two
sections; although in most cases it did not affect the mutual love and
personal esteem in which the contending parties held each other.

At the annual conference of his ministers, held in August, 1770 (the
year of Whitefield's death), John Wesley drew up his fateful minute on
Calvinism. Intended solely for the guidance of his own preachers, Wesley
apparently had not contemplated the use to which these statements might
be put in controversy; if so, they would in all probability have been
more carefully guarded. He also expected them to be considered _as a
whole_, and could hardly have foreseen the use soon to be made of
fragments torn from their context. However this may be, soon after their
publication the sky was overcast, and Wesley found himself in the centre
of an embittered theological controversy, in which, after he had in vain
striven to maintain peace by explanation and concession, he vigorously
maintained what he held to be the truth. He did this the more because
the Calvinism of the eighteenth century found itself face to face with a
dangerous Antinomianism. This was rife among the Moravians; some of
Wesley's own preachers adopted it; John Nelson fought it to the death in
Yorkshire; and it was in the face of this state of affairs that the
minute was penned.

Lady Huntingdon from the first took great umbrage at the teaching of the
minute. She apprehended "that the fundamental truths of the Gospel were
struck at and considering Mr. Wesley's consequence in the religious
world, as standing at the head of such numerous societies, thought it
incumbent on them to show their abhorrence of such doctrines." She
further declared "that whoever did not wholly disavow them should quit
her college."

Wesley, on the other hand, thought the time had come when it was his
duty to act the part of a faithful pastor towards the good Countess.
"For several years I had been deeply convinced that I had not done my
duty with regard to that valuable woman; that I had not told her what I
was convinced no one else would dare to do, and what I knew she would
hear from no other person, but _possibly_ might hear from _me_. But
being unwilling to give her pain I put it off from time to time. At
length I dare not delay any longer lest death should call one of us
hence; so I at once delivered my own soul by telling her all that was in
my heart."

Lady Huntingdon on her part acted promptly and vigorously. Mr. Benson
having defended the minute, was dismissed from Trevecca. Fletcher, by
whom Benson's appointment had been arranged, visited the college in
March, 1771, preached under great difficulties, and proffered his
resignation, which Lady Huntingdon accepted at once.

All hope of a peaceful settlement was now at an end. Lady Huntingdon
drew up a circular inviting the clergy of all denominations to assemble
at the Wesleyan Conference at Bristol in August, 1771, and protest
against the obnoxious minute. It is needful to quote some extracts from
this circular in order that the position of the Countess may be fully
perceived. "The minutes given by John Wesley we think ourselves obliged
to disavow, believing such principles repugnant to Scripture and the
whole plan of salvation under the new covenant. In union with all
Protestant and Reformed Churches we hold _faith_ alone in the Lord Jesus
Christ for the sinner's justification, sanctification, righteousness,
and complete redemption. And that He, the only wise God, our Saviour, is
the First and Last, the Author and Finisher, the Beginning and the End
of man's salvation: wholly by the sacrifice of Himself to complete and
perfect all those who believe. And that under this covenant of free
grace for man He does grant repentance, remission of sins, and meetness
for glory, for the full and true salvation to eternal life; and that
all called good works are alike the act of His free grace.... We mean to
enter into no controversy on the subject; but, separated from all party
bigotry, and all personal prejudice to Mr. Wesley, the Conference, or
his friends, do hereby most solemnly protest against the doctrine
contained in these minutes."

The leader and champion on the part of Lady Huntingdon was the
Honourable and Rev. Walter Shirley, grandson of the first Earl Ferrars,
and her own first cousin. He was an able, fervent, eloquent man, who
both in Ireland and England had given full proof of his ministry, and at
first was left almost alone in the conflict. Wesley wrote to Lady
Huntingdon on June 19, 1771, ending with these words, "You have one of
the first places in my esteem and affection; and you once had some
regard for me. But it cannot continue if it depends on my seeing with
your eyes, or my being in no mistake. What if I were in as many errors
as Mr. Law himself? If you were, I should love you still, provided your
heart was still right with God. My dear friend, you seem not well yet to
have learned the meaning of these words, which I desire to have ever
written upon my heart, 'Whoever doeth the will of My Father which is in
heaven, the same is My brother, and sister, and mother.'"

As the time for the conference drew on, it became apparent that the
protestors had no standing place there. Only those who were actual
members of the conference could attend. Hence, instead of the large
number looked for, Shirley and seven others only appeared. The circular,
which perhaps was needlessly strong in its statements, had been
withdrawn the day before the conference met. Wesley allowed Shirley to
appear at the third session of the conference, and after careful
consideration a declaration was drawn up stating that as the minutes of
1770 "have been understood to favour justification by works," "we abhor
the doctrine of justification by works;" "that we have no trust or
confidence but in the alone merits of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
for justification or salvation, either in life, death, or the day of
judgment. And though no one is a real Christian believer (and
consequently cannot be saved) who doth not good works when there is time
and opportunity, yet our works have no part in meriting or purchasing
our justification, from first to last, either in whole or part." Wesley
and fifty-three of his ministers signed this, John Nelson and Thomas
Olivers alone refusing.

Shirley, on the other hand, was constrained to sign a public avowal that
"he was convinced that he had mistaken the meaning of the doctrinal
points" of the minute. Fletcher meanwhile had written his five letters
to Shirley, and the MS. was in Wesley's hands during the conference.
Unfortunately he ordered it to be printed, and then left for Ireland.
Fletcher, after learning the issue of the conference, would have liked
to stay their publication, but in Wesley's absence this could not be
done. Thus appeared the first portion of Fletcher's famous _Checks to
Antinomianism_. Into the subsequent controversy, extending over several
years, many writers were drawn, the chief being on Wesley's side,
Fletcher and Olivers; and on Lady Huntingdon's, Shirley, Toplady,
Berridge, Sir Richard and Rowland Hill. Many bitter words were written,
and much said and done that would have been far better left unsaid and
undone. But through it all even Toplady, Wesley's bitterest opponent,
could say of Olivers, "I am glad I saw him, for he appears to be a
person of stronger sense and better behaviour than I had imagined;" and
Berridge welcomed Fletcher to Everton after a twenty years' absence,
with tears in his eyes, crying, "My dear brother, how could we write
against each other when we both aim at the same thing, the glory of God
and the good of souls!"




IX.

SPA FIELDS CHAPEL.

In addition to the constant services held in her different London houses
by her chaplains and others, Lady Huntingdon opened and supported
several chapels in the capital. The first was leased in 1770 in Ewer
Street. The next was in Princess Street, Westminster, and was opened in
1774. Then came Mulberry Gardens Chapel at Wapping, where George Burder
sometimes and John Clayton very often preached. Towards the close of
1776 negotiations for the purchase of what was known as the Pantheon, a
large building in Spa Fields, one of "the places where Satan had his
seat," were commenced. Owing to the advice of Shirley and Toplady, the
completion of the purchase was delayed; but at length the Countess
wrote: "My heart seems strongly set upon having this temple of folly
dedicated to Jehovah-Jesus, the great Head of His Church and people. I
feel so deeply for the perishing thousands in that part of London that I
am almost tempted to run every risk; and though at this moment I have
not a penny to command, yet I am so firmly persuaded of the goodness of
the Master whose I am and whom I desire to serve, that I shall not want
gold or silver for the work." Nor did she. A company of gentlemen
secured it, fitted it up as a chapel, and on July 5, 1777, John Ryland
of Northampton preached the opening sermon.

Unforeseen and far-reaching consequences followed hard upon the opening
of this place of worship. The Rev. W. Sellon, incumbent of St. James,
Clerkenwell, the parish in which the new chapel stood, was a pluralist,
holding no less than four ecclesiastical appointments, yielding him in
all £1500 a year. Destitute himself of any knowledge of or sympathy for
Gospel preaching, he resented this attempt to feed "the hungry sheep" of
his parish. He invoked the law against Mr. Jones and Mr. Taylor, both
clergymen of the Established Church, who were conducting the services at
Spa Fields with conspicuous success. Sellon claimed the right of
preaching in Spa Fields whenever he wished, and asserted his right to
all the moneys derived from sittings and other sources. He obtained a
verdict in the Consistorial Court inhibiting Jones and Taylor and
closing the church. To meet this state of affairs, Lady Huntingdon
acquired the building in her own right, changed the earlier name of
Northampton Chapel into Spa Fields Chapel, and appointed Dr. Haweis, one
of her chaplains, to preach. Sellon again applied to the Ecclesiastical
Courts, and obtained an inhibition prohibiting any clergyman of the
Established Church, whether Lady Huntingdon's chaplain or not, from
preaching in Spa Fields.

Lady Huntingdon rose to the occasion. She was not the woman to allow an
altogether unworthy opposition to defeat what she felt to be God's work.
Since the law upheld Sellon, she in her turn invoked it. Under the
Toleration Act she claimed and exercised her rights. "I am reduced," she
wrote, "to turn the finest congregation, not only in England, but in any
part of the world into a Dissenting meeting." Mr. Wills and Mr. Taylor,
two clergymen who were prominent at this time among the Countess's
helpers, both determined to secede from the Established Church; and thus
once and for ever she disposed of Mr. Sellon's claims and prerogatives.
Mr. Wills became the regular minister of the church. It was in this
building that the first annual sermon of the London Missionary Society
was preached by Dr. Haweis, and for over a hundred years Spa Fields
Chapel was a centre of light and help and healing for that part
of London.

This legal conflict had placed those numerous and able clergymen who had
been in the habit of preaching in Lady Huntingdon's chapels in a very
awkward position. They had to choose between two masters. Not
unnaturally they remained in the Established Church. Hence from 1779
Romaine, Venn, Jones, and many others, though still in full sympathy
with the Countess's work, ceased to preach in her chapels.

The students educated at Trevecca now rendered services of great value.
In addition to their itinerating labours, they gradually filled the
pulpits thus left vacant in the chapels. Hitherto the great majority of
them had sought ordination in the Church of England, such having always
been Lady Huntingdon's desire for them. This being no longer possible,
the first public ordination of Trevecca students took place at Spa
Fields March 9, 1783, when Mr. Wills and Mr. Taylor ordained six young
men to the work of the ministry. It was on this occasion that the
well-known Fifteen Articles, subscription to which became essential for
entrance into the college, or into any of the pulpits under Lady
Huntingdon's control, were first publicly read.

"Lady Huntingdon never intended her chapels or societies to be organised
into a denomination--she never thought of providing for them an
ecclesiastical constitution as such. As she intended and sustained them
they were simply evangelising agencies. The spiritual necessities of her
day induced her to become a builder of chapels for Evangelical preaching
and worship. These she sustained and ruled as her own private property,
devoted by her to the service of Christ, but disposable by her own
uncontrolled will. No elements of ecclesiastical constitution or
permanence are to be found in such an agency. Nor are there in the
trusts declared after her death. The trustees of her chapels are
invested with absolute powers of government, like her own." [1]

[Footnote 1: Address by Dr. Allon in the _Centenary Celebration of
Cheshunt College_, p. 33.]

By her will dated January 11,1790, Lady Huntingdon bequeathed "all her
chapels, houses, furniture therein, and all the residue of her estates
and effects to Thomas Haweis and Janetta Payne, his wife, Lady Ann
Erskine, and John Lloyd." These persons were thus constituted trustees
of all her property, to administer it all to the best of their ability,
in harmony with what they knew to be her wishes. Many of the buildings
associated with her name and ministers were local trusts, so that the
power of the Connexion trustees never extended over more than a portion
of the churches which her evangelistic zeal had founded or strengthened.
It was almost inevitable that such an arrangement should be fatal to
development, and so it has proved.

The latest sketch of Lady Huntingdon's life thus sets forth the present
position of the Connexion: "The Fifteen Articles are the bond and
doctrinal basis of administration in the Connexion; and in the words of
the Countess, written when she left the Church of England, 'Our
ministers must come recommended by that neutrality between Church and
Dissent--secession.' Beyond this the Connexion has no act of uniformity.
The worship, according to the varying needs of different localities,
may be liturgical or non liturgical. Congregations are allowed much
liberty in the form of their self-government." [1]

[Footnote 1: _The Countess of Huntingdon and her Connexion_, edited by
Rev. J.B. Figgis, M.A., p. 48.]

[Illustration: L: Huntingdon]

When Lady Huntingdon died there were only seven chapels in the legal
possession of her representatives; but there were in all about one
hundred in close union with and considered as together forming her
Connexion. In the century succeeding her decease, while the number
vested in the trustees of the Connexion increased from seven to
thirty-three, the total number diminished to less than one half. Not a
few of those included in the latter half became Congregational Churches,
and remain in that fellowship up to this time. Some have been swept away
by modern improvements, and never rebuilt elsewhere. The steady pressure
of life and thought during the last half century has told rather against
the development of churches which stand apart from the life and
associations on the one hand of the Established Church, and on the other
of Nonconformity. But the mere enumeration of the chief chapels yet
remaining, either in the central or in special local trusts, is
interesting as an illustration of how the evangelising influence of Lady
Huntingdon and her preachers extended to all corners of the kingdom.
They are found at Bath, Bristol, Brighton, Canterbury, Cheltenham, Ely,
Exeter, Hereford, Kidderminster, Malvern, Margate, Norwich, St. Ives,
Cornwall, Rochdale, Swansea, Spa Fields, Tunbridge Wells, Worcester,
and Yarmouth.




X.

CLOSING YEARS.

Until the close of her long life of eighty-four years, Lady Huntingdon
retained much of that vigour of intellect which had marked the whole of
her career. In spiritual life also she continued to develop year by
year. In a letter written to an old ministerial friend on April 26,
1790, she says, "Here (in my heart) every wild and warm imagination,
intoxicated by pride and self-love, must end; and submit, not only to
learn of the poorest and most afflicted Man in our nature, but also to
find in Him, and in Him alone, a suitable relief for all our misery;
and, through the same medium, a free access to all divine and heavenly
wisdom, whenever a sense of our own evil renders us sufficiently
conscious of our wants. Thus faith, that faith which is the substance or
subsistence of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen, must
carry the day; and by it walking in the light, as God is in the light,
the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses us from all sin; while His heavenly
and Divine Spirit, daily carrying us forward, leads us experimentally
into those various states which He Himself has declared to be
truly blessed."

The decay of her bodily powers was hastened by the breaking of a
blood-vessel in November, 1790. During the ensuing illness at her house
next door to Spa Fields Chapel she said to Lady Ann Erskine, who was
continually with her, "I am well, all is well--well for ever; I see
wherever I turn my eyes, whether I live or die, nothing but victory."
From this attack she partially recovered, and for months she lingered in
a weakened state, eager up to the last for the extension of her Master's
kingdom. About a week before her death she was confined to her bed, and
during this time she was greatly interested in a scheme for sending
missionaries to the South Seas. Lady Ann Erskine and the other watchers,
who were unremitting in their attentions, heard her praying day and
night, and saying at one time, "I am reconciled in the arms of love and
mercy;" and at another, "I long to be at home; oh, I long to be at
home!" Only an hour before her death she asked, "Is Charles' letter
come?" referring to a request that had been sent to the Rev. Thomas
Charles of Bala, asking him to come and preach at Spa Fields. Almost the
last words that fell from her lips were a testimony to the strength and
clearness of her faith: "My work is done--I have nothing to do but to go
to my Father." Soon after saying these words, on June 17, 1791, she
"fell asleep in Jesus." She was buried in the family vault at Ashby
de la Zouch.

Lady Huntingdon, whose long life thus triumphantly closed, was happy in
many ways. She possessed rank and a competency and all the social
advantages which such things involve. She was blessed with exceptional
vigour of body, of mind, and of spirit. She was happy also in the time
of her earthly life. Above all was she happy in the fact that she came
so early and so completely under the power of saving faith in the Lord
Jesus and under the renewing power of the Holy Spirit. From that time
she threw herself into God's work; and by her zeal, ability, and
consecration, quite as much as by her rank and wealth, became one of the
spiritual landmarks of a wonderful century.

From a course which she believed to be right even John Wesley could not
move her; and on one occasion she showed her power even to the
Archbishop of Canterbury. About 1770 the prelate then holding that high
office, and his wife, gave some balls and parties which scandalised even
the gay votaries of fashion who attended them. Remonstrances which Lady
Huntingdon addressed to the archbishop, Dr. Cornwallis, through
relatives, being treated with ridicule and contempt, she appealed direct
to George III. The King and Queen received her most graciously,
conversed with her about her religious work for more than an hour, and a
few days later surprised the Archbishop by a letter requesting the
summary suppression of these "improprieties." The prelate was probably
as much astonished as shortly afterwards a lady was, who, in the King's
presence, said Lady Huntingdon must surely be insane since she had
ventured to "preach to His Grace." "Pray, madam," said the King after he
had assured her she was quite mistaken, "have you ever been in company
with her?" "Never!" "Then never form your opinion of any one from the
ill-natured remarks and censures of others."

Fitted to shine in courts, in an age notoriously pleasure-loving,
profligate, and irreligious, she deliberately and whole-heartedly cast
in her lot with the despised people of God, "accounting the reproach of
Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt." She was tried by
repeated bereavements, and she had to bear the heavy cross of a son who
lived and died in hostility to the Christian faith. But these sorrows
only deepened her trust in and her hold upon the Lord Jesus Christ. In
1747 she had written, "My heart wants nothing so much as to dispense
_all--all_, for the glory of Him whom my soul loveth." In 1791, after
forty-four long years of hard labour, steady faith, and self-sacrificing
zeal, she passed to her eternal rest, with the simple trust that He
whose glory she had so humbly and earnestly sought had glorified Himself
in her. No nobler close could have been desired for such a life than
that which God granted: "My work is done--I have nothing to do but to go
to my Father."

RICHARD LOVETT, M.A.




RACHEL, LADY RUSSEL.

I.

It is not often that we find the names of person illustrious in the
annals of this world also pre-eminent in the records of the kingdom of
heaven. "Not many wise, not many noble are called;" but sometimes the
wisest and noblest appear among the truest and best of Christians. Such
were, in our English history, William, Lord Russell, patriot and martyr,
and his wife Rachel, Lady Russell, whom all agree in regarding as at
once a heroine and a saint.

With the cause of civil and religious liberty the name of Lord Russell
will be for ever associated. He died, as he had lived, the friend of
true religion and a firm adherent of the reformed faith. He said that he
hoped his death would do more for the Christian good of his country than
his life could do. He was beheaded on Saturday, July 21,1683. Upon the
scaffold, just before his execution, he handed to the sheriffs a written
declaration, in which, after denial of the false charges on which he had
been condemned, he concludes with a prayer which shows that far higher
than mere political feelings moved him: "Thou, O most merciful Father,
hast forgiven all my transgressions, the sins of my youth, and all the
errors of my past life, and Thou wilt not lay my secret sins and
ignorance to my charge, but wilt graciously support me during the small
time of life now before me, and assist me in my last moments, and not
leave me then to be disordered by fear or any other temptations, but
make the light of Thy countenance to shine upon me. Thou art my Sun and
my Shield; and as Thou supportest me by Thy grace, so I hope Thou wilt
hereafter crown me with glory, and receive me into the fellowship of
angels and saints in the blessed inheritance purchased for me by my most
merciful Redeemer, who is at Thy right hand, I trust preparing a place
for me, and is ready to receive me, into whose hands I commend
my spirit!"

It is of Lady Russell, the wife and the worthy partner of this good man,
that we are about to give a brief memoir in our gallery of
_Excellent Women_.




II.

Rachel Wriothesley, born in 1636, was second daughter of Thomas
Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, by his first wife, Rachel de Ruvigny,
of an ancient Huguenot family. Her mother died during her infancy. An
elder sister, Lady Elizabeth, married Edward Noel, son of Viscount
Campden, afterwards Earl of Gainsborough. Lord Southampton married twice
after his first wife's death, but he had only one surviving daughter by
his second marriage, who being heiress of Sir Francis Leigh, afterwards
Earl of Winchester, the whole of the Southampton property was left to
the children of his first marriage, who thus became considerable
heiresses. Lady Rachel, when yet young, married Francis, Lord Vaughan,
eldest son of the Earl of Carberry, but it was an alliance rather of
acceptance than of choice on either side, and the early death of Lord
Vaughan left her free to marry again. All we know is that she possessed
the love and attachment of her husband and the respect of his family.
They had one child who died in infancy.

In 1667, on the death of her father, she inherited the estates of
Stratton, but she passed most of her time with her beloved sister, Lady
Elizabeth Noel, at Tichfield, in Hampshire. There she became engaged to
Mr. Russell, younger son of the Earl of Bedford. They were married in
1669, but she still retained the name of Vaughan till in 1678, on the
death of his elder brother Francis, William succeeded to the courtesy
title of Lord Russell, when she assumed that of Lady Russell.

Lord Southampton, her father, was a man of high character and great
influence. During the civil troubles he took no very decided part until
after the misfortunes of Charles I., when his loyalty overmastered all
other feelings. In the first disputes between the king and the
parliament he disapproved of the high-handed measures of the Court, and,
disliking the government of Strafford and the principles of Archbishop
Laud, he was considered to be one of the peers attached to the popular
cause. But, like Lord Falkland, he could not heartily join the party
opposed to the king, whom he accompanied to York and to Nottingham. He
was at the fight at Edgehill, and thence went to Oxford, where he
remained with the Court during the rest of the war. He was hopeless all
along of the success of the royal cause, and was ever the strenuous and
unwearying advocate of accommodation and peace. When the execution of
the misguided king took place, he was one of the four faithful servants
who obtained permission to pay the last sad duty to his remains. From
that time he retired to his seat at Tichfield, taking no further part in
public affairs. When Cromwell rose to supreme power he greatly wished
to meet Lord Southampton, but the meeting was avoided by the earl, and
he continued in retirement. His daughter was educated on strict
Protestant lines, with every predilection for the doctrines which her
mother's family, professing a faith persecuted in their own country,
were likely to encourage. Southampton, though attached to the Church of
England, was most tolerant towards Dissenters, so much so that Clarendon
in his History, while describing him as "a man of exemplary virtue and
piety, and very regular in his devotions," says, "He was not generally
believed by the bishops to have an affection keen enough for the
government of the Church, being willing and desirous that something more
might be done to gratify the Presbyterians than they thought right."
This spirit of her father was probably the source of the Christian
charity as well as piety of Lady Rachel's life, appearing in her letters
and animating her whole conduct. Or rather we may say, that both father
and daughter were influenced by the old Huguenot principles and
connection.




III.

The Marquis de Ruvigny, head of an old family in Picardy, had long been
the leader of the Protestant cause in France; in fact, he was almost the
minister plenipotentiary of the Huguenots at the Court of Louis XIV. As
"Deputy-General of the Reformed Church," he well served the interests of
that body, both in getting a patient hearing of their grievances, and
obtaining knowledge of the designs of their enemies. He possessed the
personal favour and the support of Cardinal Mazarin, and the king
himself put confidence in Ruvigny. He was several times employed in
services of a confidential kind to the English Government, but was given
to understand that any military position or further advancement must be
purchased by a change of his religion. To this he never could consent,
being a man of sincere and enlightened piety, as well noted for his
ability, courage, and conduct. On the recall of Colbert in 1674, he was
minister plenipotentiary in England, and remained so for two or three
years, when a more pliable tool was found in a M. Courtin. He still
retained the good opinion of the French king and his advisers, for on
the revocation of the Edict of Nantes he had permission to emigrate to
England with his family, a permission granted to no other Protestant
noble. His estates, however, were confiscated, as were those of all the
_émigrés_. It was the sister of this Marquis, Rachel de Ruvigny, who
became the wife of Lord Southampton. For the family of the Ruvignys Lady
Russell always retained a warm affection.




IV.

During the fourteen years of her happy married life with William
Russell, she was seldom parted from her husband. Their only moments of
separation were during his visits of duty to his father at Woburn, and
short absences on private or political business. The longest absence was
when Lord Russell attended a meeting of parliament summoned by the king
at Oxford. Her letters during this period are such as would be written
by a loving wife and a tender mother--happy, cheerful messages of
personal or domestic interest; yet even in these familiar epistles
displaying a character of good sense and deep piety as well as womanly
affection. "They are the most touching love-letters I have ever read,"
says the editor of the published selection from her correspondence. Two
or three short bits out of many letters will suffice to show the spirit
in which she then wrote. August 24, 1680. "Absent or present, my dearest
life is equally obliging, and ever the earthly delight of my soul. It is
my great care (or ought to be so) so to moderate my sense of happiness
here, that when the appointed time comes of my leaving it, or its
leaving me, I may not be unwilling to forsake the one, or be in some
measure prepared and fit to bear the trial of the other. This very hot
weather does incommode me, but otherwise I am very well, and both your
girls. Your letter was cherished as it deserved, and so, I make no
doubt, was hers, which she took very ill I should suspect she was
directed in, as truly I thought she was, the fancy was so pretty. I have
a letter about the buck, as usual, from St. Giles's [the seat of the
Earl of Shaftesbury, in Dorsetshire]; but when you come up I suppose it
will be time enough to give order. Coming so lately from St. Giles's, I
am not solicitous for news for you, especially as Sir Harry Capel is to
see your lordship to-morrow. The greatest discourse we have is (next to
Bedloe's affidavit) Tongue's accusing of Lord Essex, Lord Shaftesbury,
and Lord Wharton, for the contrivers of the plot, and setting his father
and Oates to act their parts. This was told me by a black-coat who made
me a visit yesterday, but I hear it by nobody else. My sister and Lady
Inchiquin are coming, so that I must leave a better diversion for a
worse, but my thoughts often return where all my delight is. I am,
yours entirely, R RUSSELL."

In a letter sent to Oxford in March, 1681, she says: "The report of our
nursery, I humbly praise God, is very good. Master [her son] improves
really, I think, every day. Sure he is a goodly child; the more I see of
others, the better he appears; I hope God will give him life and virtue.
Misses and their mamma walked yesterday after dinner to see their
cousin Alington. Miss Kate wished she might see the new-born son, so I
gratified her little person. Unless I see cause to add a note, this is
all this time,

"From yours only entirely, R. RUSSELL."

The postscript of this letter conveys a curious idea of the suspicion
and insecurity of the times: "Look to your pockets. A printed paper says
you will have fine papers put into them, and then witnesses to swear."

A later letter, October 20,1681, written on Saturday night, begins: "The
hopes I have, my dearest life, that this will be the concluding epistle,
for this time, makes me undertake it with more cheerfulness than my
others." And it thus closes: "I pray God direct all your consultations;
and, my dearest dear, you guess my mind. A word to the wise. I never
longed more earnestly to be with you, for whom I have a thousand kind
and grateful thoughts. You know of whom I learned this expression. If I
could have found one more fit to speak the passion of my soul, I should
send it you with joy; but I submit with great content to imitate, but
shall never attain to any equality, except that of sincerity; and I will
ever be, by God's grace, what I ought and profess,

"Thy faithful, affectionate, and obedient wife,

"R. RUSSELL.

"I seal not this till Sunday morning, that you might know all is well
then. Miss sends me word that she is so, and hopes to see papa quickly;
so does one more."




V.

In October, 1680, Lord Russell moved in the House of Commons a
resolution that they ought to take into consideration how to oppose
Popery and prevent a Popish successor to the throne. A Bill was
accordingly brought in for excluding the Duke of York from the crown,
which passed the House of Commons, but was thrown out by the Lords, to
whom it was carried up by Lord Russell, attended by nearly the whole of
the Commons. About the same time Lords Shaftesbury, Russell, and
Cavendish presented the Duke of York to the grand jury for Middlesex at
Westminster Hall, as indictable, being a Popish recusant. In January,
1680-1, the Commons resolved that "until a Bill be passed for excluding
the Duke of York, they could not vote any supply, without danger to His
Majesty and extreme hazard to the Protestant religion."

Things had come to this crisis after years of arbitrary power, and the
humiliation of England in its king being a pensioner of Louis XIV. As
far back as 1669 a secret treaty was made with France, Charles engaging
to declare war against Holland, France to pay the king £800,000 annually
and make a division of the conquests, of which France would have the
largest share. In 1670 Colbert mentions Charles's ratification of this
treaty, having the king's seal and signature, and a letter from his own
hand. This treaty was kept secret from his ministers, and a pretended
treaty _(un traité simulé)_ was to be promulgated, to which the
Protestant members of the Cabinet were to be parties. Colbert further
states that he was told in confidence by the Duke of York that the king
was ready to declare himself a Catholic, and that he was determined to
rule independently of any parliament. The object of Charles was mainly
to obtain money from the French king, but the Duke of York had deeper
and more dangerous plots to carry out. The marriage of the Princess Mary
to the Prince of Orange in 1677 somewhat disturbed the understanding,
but a renewal of the treaty in 1678 brought England again to lie at the
mercy of the French king. The impeachment of Lord Danby, Lord Treasurer,
for the part taken by him in these disgraceful transactions, showed that
there were still many Englishmen prepared to act for the honour and
freedom of their country. To Lord Russell most men looked as the leader
of the patriotic party, and it was determined to get him out of the way
as the chief opponent of the arbitrary power of the king and the Popish
designs of his brother, who showed the most unrelenting hatred of
Russell. It was resolved that he should be brought to trial for treason,
as compassing the overthrow of the government of the king. He was
arrested on January 26, 1683; after examination was committed to the
Tower the same day, and afterwards removed to Newgate.

Lord Russell was found sitting in his study, neither seeking to conceal
himself nor preparing for flight. As soon as he was in custody, he gave
up all hopes of life, knowing how obnoxious he was to the Duke of York,
and only thought of dying with honour and dignity. The Earl of Essex was
at his country house when he heard of the arrest of his friend. He could
have made his escape, and when pressed by his people to fly, he answered
that "his own life was not worth saving if, by drawing suspicion on Lord
Russell, it might bring his life into danger." He was taken to the
Tower, where, it was announced, he killed himself on the morning of Lord
Russell's trial. It is more probable, as was generally believed, that he
was murdered, and the report of suicide was spread in order to
strengthen the charges against Russell. Monmouth had disappeared, but,
actuated by the same generous motive with Essex, he sent a message to
Russell, on hearing of his arrest, that "he would surrender himself and
share his fate, if his doing so could he of use to him." Russell
answered in these words: "It will be of no advantage to me to have my
friends die with me."




VI.

The trial of Lord Russell is one of the darkest events in the annals of
our courts of law, while it is also one of the most important in the
history of England. He was tried at the Old Bailey on the charge of
conspiring the death of the King's Majesty, and of raising rebellion in
the kingdom. Every point in the legal indictment was strained, and every
artifice resorted to, in order to obtain a verdict of guilty. When it
was objected that the jury were not freeholders, the objection was
overruled, although in a recent trial, when made in the king's behalf,
it had been admitted without any difficulty. The evidence of two or
three false witnesses was received, and was made to weigh against a mass
of testimony borne by the noblest and best men of the time. Nothing
could be proved against him, except that he had been seen in the company
of Monmouth, Shaftesbury, Algernon Sidney, and others known to be
opposed to the measures of the Government. Lords Anglesey, Cavendish,
and Clifford, the Duke of Somerset, Doctors Burnet, Tillotson, Cox,
FitzWilliam, and many others testified to his mild and amiable
character, his peaceable and virtuous life, and the improbability of his
being guilty of the charges brought against him. His public services in
defence of freedom and of the Protestant religion were the real causes
of the resolution to get rid of him. Towards the close of the trial, one
of his enemies, the notorious Jefferies, made a violent declamation, and
turned the untimely end of Lord Essex in the Tower into a proof of
Russell's being privy to the guilty conspiracy. This base insinuation
evidently had effect on the jury, who brought in a verdict of guilty.
The sentence was considered by all right-minded persons as a shameful
injustice. Burnet afterwards spoke of him as "that great but innocent
victim, sacrificed to the rage of a party, and condemned only for
treasonable words said to have been spoken in his hearing."

Among the incidents of the trial, one of the most memorable was when the
prisoner asked for somebody to write, to help his memory. "You may have
a servant," said the Attorney-General, Sir Robert Sawyer. "Any of your
servants," added the Lord Chief Justice Pemberton, "shall assist you in
writing for you anything you please." "My wife is here, my Lord, to do
it." "If my Lady please to give herself the trouble," was the civil
reply of the Lord Chief Justice. So the noble wife sat by his side
throughout the trial to assist and support her husband.

After the condemnation she drew up and carried to the king a petition
for a short reprieve of a few weeks; but this was rejected, though the
king saw at his feet the daughter of the Earl of Southampton, the best
friend he ever had. His answer was, "Shall I grant that man a reprieve
of six weeks, who, if it had been in his power, would not have granted
me six hours? Besides," he said, "I must break with the Duke of York if
I grant it." Seeking the king's life had never been made a charge, far
less attempted to be proved, though something had been said about
attacking the king's guards. But Russell denied with his last breath any
design against the person of the king. All considerations were weak
against the passion of revenge with which the king and the Duke of York
were actuated. The Duke of York descended so low in his personal
animosity that he urged that the execution should take place before
Russell's own door in Bloomsbury Square, but the king would not consent
to this. An order was signed for his being beheaded in Lincoln's Inn
Fields, a week after the trial. It is said that at that time Southampton
House, on the north side of Bloomsbury Square, was visible from the
place where the scaffold was erected.

Lord Cavendish generously offered to manage his escape, and to stay in
prison for him while he should go away in his clothes; but Russell would
not entertain the proposal. It was then planned that Cavendish, with a
party of horse, should attack the guard on the way to the scaffold, and
rescue the innocent victim; but this, too, was overruled, as Russell
refused to allow any lives being endangered to save his own. He prepared
to receive the stroke with meekness, and with a dignity worthy of
his name.

On the Tuesday before his execution, when his wife had left him, he
expressed great joy in the magnanimity of spirit he saw in her, and said
that parting with her was the worst part of his pain. On Thursday, when
she left him to try to gain a respite till Monday, he said he wished she
would cease from seeking his preservation, but he did not forbid her
trying, thinking that these efforts, though unavailing, might bring some
mitigation of her sorrows. On the evening before his death he suffered
his young children to be brought by their mother for the final parting.
In this trying time he maintained his constancy of temper, though his
heart was full of tenderness. When they had gone he said that the
bitterness of death was passed, and then spoke much of the noble spirit
of her whom he had so loved, and who had been to him so great a
blessing. He said, "What a misery it would have been to him if she had
not that magnanimit of spirit, joined to her tenderness, as never to
have desired him to do a base thing for the saving of his life. There
was a signal providence of God in giving him such a wife, where there
was birth, fortune, great understanding, true religion, and great
kindness to him; but her carriage in his extremity was beyond all. He
was glad she and his children were to lose nothing by his death; and it
was a great comfort to him that he left his children in the hands of
such a mother, and that she had promised to him to take care of herself
for their sakes."

[Illustration: PARTING OF LORD AND LADY RUSSELL. _Copied, by permission,
from the fresco in the Palace of Westminster_.]

It should be stated that when they partook of the Communion together for
the last time, she so controlled her feelings, for his sake, as not to
shed a tear; although afterwards she wept so much that it was feared she
would lose her sight.

The scene of the parting in prison is not only memorable in history, but
has been a favourite theme in art, and one of the frescoes in the new
Houses of Parliament commemorates it. Many poets have written about the
death of Lord Russell, among them Canning, in a supposed letter to his
friend Lord Cavendish, in which the noble character of his wife is
celebrated as well as the virtues of her husband.

The execution took place not on Tower Hill, as usual with persons of
high rank, but in Lincoln's Inn Fields, in order that the citizens of
London might be humbled and terrified by the sight, as he was carried in
a coach to the scaffold through the City. The effect was very different
from what was intended. The death of this one man made many enemies to
the king, and though the triumph of liberty and religion was delayed for
a few years, the execution of Lord Russell did much to secure the
overthrow of arbitrary power, and the defeat of Popery in England at no
distant time. The trial took place July 13 and 14, and the execution on
July 21, 1683.




VII.

Lord Russell died for the civil and religious liberties of his country.
All men, even those who were far from agreeing with his political
principles, agreed in regarding him as a man of probity and virtue, and
the model of a patriot. He passed through this world with as great and
general a reputation as any one of the age, and his memory will be held
in everlasting remembrance.

     "Bring every sweetest flower, and let me strew
      The grave where Russell lies, whose tempered blood
      With calmest cheerfulness for thee resigned,
      Stained the sad annals of a giddy reign;
      Aiming at lawless power, though, meanly sunk
      In loose inglorious luxury."

So sang of him the poet of the Seasons, Thomson, in his famous
apostrophe to Britannia as the land of liberty.

One of the first Acts of King William III. after the Revolution, was to
reverse the attainder of Lord Russell. In the preamble of this Bill,
which was the second that passed in his reign, after receiving the Royal
assent, his execution was called a murder: and in November of the same
year, 1689, the House of Commons appointed a committee "to inquire who
were the advisers and promoters of the murder of Lord Russell." In the
year 1694 his father was created Marquis of Tavistock and Duke of
Bedford. The reasons for bestowing these honours were stated in the
preamble of the patent in these terms: "And this, not the least, that he
was the father of Lord Russell, the ornament of his age, whose great
merits it was not enough to transmit by history to posterity, but they
(the King and Queen) were willing to record them in their royal patent,
to remain in the family as a monument consecrated to his consummate
virtue, whose name could never be forgot, so long as men preserved any
esteem for sanctity of manners, greatness of mind, and a love of their
country, constant even to death. Therefore, to solace his excellent
father for so great a loss, to celebrate the memory of so noble a son,
and to excite his worthy grandson, the heir of such mighty hopes, more
cheerfully to emulate and follow the example of his illustrious father,
they entailed this high dignity upon the Earl and his posterity."

The first Duke of Bedford (fifth Earl) lived till September, 1700. He
had six sons and three daughters, besides the martyred son. William,
married to the daughter of the Earl of Southampton. They had one son,
Wriothesley, who succeeded his grandfather as Duke of Bedford in 1700,
and died of small-pox, in 1711, in the 31st year of his age. Of two
daughters, the elder married William Lord Cavendish, afterwards Duke of
Devonshire, and the second married John Manners, Lord Ross, afterwards
Duke of Rutland. A third daughter died unmarried.

A striking anecdote is recorded of King James II. addressing himself in
the time of his extremity, in 1688, to the aged Earl of Bedford, saying,
"My Lord, you are an honest man, have great credit in the State, and can
do me signal service." "Ah, sir," replied the Earl, "I am old and
feeble, I can do you but little service; but I had a son once that could
have assisted you, but he is no more." James was so struck with this
reply, that he could not speak for some minutes, and it is to be hoped
that he felt remorse for the death of Lord Russell.

When the attainder on Russell was removed by King William III., the
same justice was done to his friend Algernon Sidney, who is united with
him in the famous lines of Thomson's patriotic remembrance:

                               "With him
     His friend the British Cassius, fearless lad,
     Of high determined spirit, roughly brave,
     By ancient learning to the enlightened love
     Of ancient freedom warmed."

Algernon Sidney, unlike Russell, was in theory not averse to
Republicanism, but the accusations are false as to his being a sceptic
or a deist, as his own dying apology attests. He says: "God will not
suffer this land, where the Gospel has of late flourished more than in
any part of the world, to become a slave of the world. He will not
suffer it to be made a land of graven images; He will stir up witnesses
of the truth, and in His own time spirit His people to stand up for His
cause, and deliver them. I lived in this belief, and am now about to die
in it. I know my Redeemer liveth; and as He hath in a great measure
upheld me in the day of my calamity, I hope that He will still uphold me
by His Spirit in this last moment, and giving me grace to glorify Him in
my death, receive me into the glory prepared for those that fear Him,
when my body shall be dissolved. Amen." These were the last words of
Algernon Sidney. It is noteworthy that the Duke of Monmouth, in his
Declaration against James II, among other things, accuses him of
ordering the barbarous murder of the Earl of Essex in the Tower, and of
several others, to conceal it; and he gave as a reason for his appeal to
arms, in his unhappy rebellion, the unjust condemnation of Sidney and
of Russell.




VIII.

It has been remarked that the incidents in the life of Lady Russell,
apart from the one memorable public event of her husband's trial and
death, are so few and her merits confined so much to the domain of
private life and feminine duties, that her character, unlike that of
most heroines, deserves to be held up more to the _example_ than the
_admiration_ of her countrywomen. Few of her sex have been placed in
such a conspicuous situation, but fewer, after behaving with unexampled
fortitude and dignity, have shrunk from public notice, and in the sight
of God only have led unobtrusive, quiet lives in the daily performance
of domestic duties as a careful and conscientious mother and guardian of
her children.

It is this that makes the record of her life so valuable for all time.
If she, who had such an unusual and terrible affliction, was enabled,
by the grace of God in the exercise of reason and religion, to show such
complete submission to the Divine will, and such patient continuance in
well-doing, her example is well fitted for the comfort and succour of
all who in this transitory life are in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness,
or any other adversity.

One of the earliest letters, written to a friend who sought to comfort
her in her deep sorrow, reveals the noble spirit and wise resolution of
a true Christian. She says: "Fresh occasions recalling to my memory the
dear object of my affections must happen every day, I may say every hour
of the longest life I can live. But I must seek such a victory over
myself that immoderate passions may not break forth, and I must return
into the world so far as to act that part incumbent upon me, in
faithfulness to him to whom I owe as much as can be due to man. It may
be that I may obtain grace to live a stricter life of holiness to my
God, who will not always let me cry to Him in vain. On Him I will wait
till He hath pity upon me, humbly imploring that by the mighty aid of
His Holy Spirit He will touch my heart with greater love to Himself.
Then I shall be what He would have me. But I am unworthy of such a
spiritual blessing, who remain so unthankful a creature for those
earthly ones I have enjoyed, because I have them no longer. Yet God, who
knows our frames, will not expect that when we are weak we should be
strong. This is much comfort under my deep dejections." And in a letter
to Doctor Tillotson she said: "Submission and prayer are all we know
that we can do towards our own relief in our distresses. The scene will
soon alter to that peaceful and eternal home in prospect."

It is interesting to know that one who helped to bring her to this state
of mind was the Rev. John Howe, a man noted for wisdom as well as piety,
who had been chaplain to Oliver Cromwell and to his son Richard
Cromwell. Although too long to insert in full, some sentences selected
from the letter are worthy of quotation.

"The cause of your sorrow, madam, is exceeding great. The causes of your
joy are inexpressibly greater. You have infinitely more left than you
have lost. Doth it need to be disputed whether God is better and greater
than man? Or more to be valued, loved, and delighted in? And whether an
eternal relation be more considerable than a temporary one? Was it not
your constant sense, in your best outward state, 'Whom have I in heaven
but Thee, O God, and whom can I desire on earth, in comparison of Thee?'
(Psalm lxxiii. 25). Herein the state of your ladyship's case is still
the same, if you cannot with greater clearness and with less hesitation
pronounce these latter words. The principal causes of your joy are
immutable, such as no supervening thing can alter. You have lost a most
pleasant, delectable earthly relation. Doth the blessed God hereby cease
to be the best and most excellent good? Is His nature changed? His
everlasting covenant reversed or annulled, which is ordered in all
things, and sure, and is to be all your salvation and all your desire,
whether He make your house on earth to grow or not to grow? (2 Samuel
xxiii. 5).

"Let, I beseech you, your mind be more exercised in contemplating the
glories of that state into which your blessed consort is translated,
which will mingle pleasure and sweetness with the bitterness of your
afflicting loss, by giving you a daily intellectual participation
through the exercise of faith and hope in his enjoyments. He cannot
descend to share with you in your sorrows; but you may thus every day
ascend and partake with him in his joys."

After much devout reasoning of this kind, the good and wise preacher
makes a practical appeal: "Nor should such thoughts excite over-hasty,
impatient desire of following presently to heaven, but to the endeavour
of serving God more cheerfully on earth for your appointed time, which I
earnestly desire your ladyship to apply yourself to, as you would not
displease God, who is our only hope; nor be cruel to yourself, nor
dishonour the religion of Christians, as if they had no other
consolations than the earth can give, and earthly power can take from
them. Your ladyship, if any one, would be loth to do anything unworthy
of your family and parentage. Your highest alliance is to that Father
and family above, whose dignity and honour are, I doubt not, of highest
account with you."

Mr. Howe wrote to Lady Russell without revealing his name, but she laid
to heart the excellent counsel he gave. The style of the letter, and
some special phrases in it, discovered who was the author, and Lady
Russell, as we learn from Dr. Calamy, Howe's biographer, wrote to him a
letter of warm thanks, and told him he must not expect to remain
concealed[1]. She promised to endeavour to follow the excellent advice
he had given. She often afterwards corresponded with him, and the
friendship lasted during Howe's life.

[Footnote 1: Cf. _John Howe_, Biographical Series, No. 94 (R.T.S.).]




IX.

In the great public affairs of the time she could not but feel interest,
and her letters abound in references to the most striking events as they
occur. Her sister, Lady Elizabeth Noel, was in Paris at the time of the
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and describes the terrible scenes of
which she heard or witnessed. Hundreds of thousands were driven into
exile, their property seized by their persecutors; those who remained
being exposed to the cruelty of the dragonnades. Then there were the
excitements at home, following the Monmouth rebellion and the bloody
assizes where Judge Jefferies obtained his notoriety. The trial of the
seven bishops; the overthrow of the Stuart cause; the glorious
revolution of 1688 and the accession of King William and Mary; the war
in Ireland, where the de Ruvignys served under William and the Mareschal
Schomberg; the reign of Queen Anne and the Hanoverian succession under
George I.; all these historical events are referred to in Lady Russell's
correspondence which she carried on with the most notable persons of the
time. A letter of hers to King William about the King's favourable
designs for the Duke of Rutland and his family was found in his pocket
when he died. Several letters are addressed to Queen Mary. The great
Duke of Marlborough told her that if ever there appeared a chance of
Popery getting again the upper hand, he would retire from public
affairs. Even the proud Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, regarded Lady
Russell with marked deference and respect. In reference to the accession
of King William she wrote, "Regard for the public welfare carried me to
advise the princess to acquiesce in giving William the crown. However,
as I was fearful about everything the princess did while she was thought
to be advised by me, I could not satisfy my own mind till I had
consulted with several persons of wisdom and integrity, and particularly
with the Lady Russell of Southampton House, and Dr. Tillotson,
afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury. I found them all unanimous in the
opinion of the expediency of the settlement proposed, as things were
then situated."

Her friends and her country shared with her own family the heart and the
correspondence of Lady Russell. Her children she lived to see well
provided for in honourable and influential positions. Her second
daughter was married to the son of her husband's dearest friend, Lord
Cavendish, and she became the Duchess of Devonshire. The eldest daughter
was unmarried, but the third became the Duchess of Rutland. Her only
son, afterwards Duke of Bedford, was in high favour in the reign of
William and Mary, and acted as High Constable of England at the
coronation of Queen Anne. His education and training was carefully
directed by his mother. One of her letters is to his grandfather, then
Earl of Bedford, interceding with him for one of the errors of her son's
early life. He had been tempted, as many young Englishmen still are, to
gamble when on his travels, but his debt taught him a lesson which saved
him from ever after getting into trouble in this way. Lady Russell,
while pleading for his forgiveness, undertook to be answerable for the
whole loss which had been incurred. It is a sensible and
motherly letter.

To give adequate idea of the whole correspondence would occupy much
space, and we can only briefly refer to a few of the letters at
different periods of her long life of widowhood. To Burnet, the Bishop
of Salisbury, she writes, in 1690: "When anything below is the object of
our love, at one time or other it will be a matter of our sorrow. But a
little time will put me again into my settled state of mourning; for a
mourner I must be all my days on earth, and there is no need I should be
other. My glass runs low: the world does not want me nor do I want it:
my business is at home and within a narrow compass. I must not deny, as
there was something so glorious in the object of my biggest sorrow, I
believe that in some measure kept me from being overwhelmed."

At one time Lady Russell was in danger of losing her sight, but being
couched for cataract, she recovered sufficiently to continue her
correspondence.

In the early years of her great loss, while at first overwhelmed in
spirit, she yet resolves, in submission to the will of God, to bear her
calamities with patience and courage. "My yet disordered thoughts," she
writes to Dr. Fitzwilliam, "can offer me no other than such words as
express the deepest sorrows, and confused as my yet amazed mind is. You,
that knew us both, and how we lived, must allow I have just cause to
bewail my loss. Who can but shrink at such a blow, till, by the mighty
aid of His Holy Spirit, we will let the gift of God, which He hath put
into our hearts, interpose. That reason which sets a measure to our
souls in prosperity, will then suggest many things which we have seen
and heard to moderate us in such sad circumstances as mine." "Can I
regret his quitting a lesser good for a bigger? Oh! if I did steadfastly
believe, I could not be dejected; for I will not injure myself to say I
offer to my mind any infirm consolation to supply this loss. No, I most
willingly forsake this world, this vexatious troublesome world, in which
I have no other business but to rid my soul from sin; secure by faith
and a good conscience my eternal interests with patience and courage
bear my eminent misfortunes; and ever after be above the smiles and
frowns of it. And when I have done the remnant of the work appointed me
on earth, then joyfully wait for the heavenly perfection, in God's good
time, when by His infinite mercy I may be accounted worthy to enter into
the same place of rest and repose where he is gone, for whom only
I grieve."

Many letters in similar strain are preserved, to Dr. Burnet, Dr. Patrick
and other pious friends who like Dr. Fitzwilliam had sent messages of
sympathy and consolation. She often refers to the refreshment and
satisfaction she had in "endeavouring to do that part towards her
children, which their most dear and tender father would not have
omitted. These labours, if successful, though early made unfortunate,
may conduce to their happiness for the time to come and hereafter."
Attendance to these children, through childhood till they were settled
in life, she ever reckoned, "her first and chief business," but she
gradually undertook various matters of business for relatives and
friends, many of whom had recourse to one so wise, unselfish, and
sympathetic.

[Illustration: RACHEL, LADY RUSSELL.]

As an example of the interest she took in passing affairs, part of a
letter to Dr. Fitzwilliam, in 1689, may be quoted. After replying to
some inquiries about the Cambridgeshire clergy, which she could not
learn from Lord Bedford, "the parliament houses being so exacting of
time," she says: "You hear all the new honours, I suppose: not many new
creations, but all are stepping higher; as Lord Winchester is Duke of
Bolton; Lord Montague an Earl, still Montague; Falconbridge, who married
Mary, daughter of Oliver Cromwell, an Earl called the same; Mordaunt,
Earl of Monmouth (afterwards Earl of Peterborough); Churchill an Earl
(afterwards Duke of Mailborough); Lumley (Scarborough) made a Viscount,
Bentinck is an Earl (afterwards Duke of Portland); Sidney, a Viscount
(afterward Earl of Romney). Those that saw this and the last coronation
tell me this was much finer and in better order; and if the number of
the ladies were fewer, yet their attendance was with more application
near the Queen all the time, and with more cheerful faces by a great
deal. By what is heard from Scotland, they mean to take the example from
England. The last reports from Ireland say, that King James was moving
with his army towards the north. And yesterday Lord Burlington said,
Coleraine, a great town, was besieged by 6000 men, but that Lord Blaney
had sallied out, and so behaved himself that they had raised the siege.
D'Avaux who was the French ambassador in Holland, would not speak in
council till all the Protestants were put out. So they were, and, as
they say afterwards, discharged altogether....

"Lord Devonshire is to be installed at Windsor on St. George's day. My
young folks have a longing desire to see the ceremony, and they cannot
do it without a night's lodging at Windsor. If I can have that
accommodation of your house I will think it a great favour, and will go
with them, and look to your house while everybody is gone to the show. I
doubt the post can't bring me a return time enough so I am put in hopes
this may come to you by a coach; if it does, I do not question your
order to your housekeeper to let us in. In confidence of it, I think to
send to her, that I believe I shall come and ask your beds for
the night."




X.

The following letter to her son (afterwards second Duke of Bedford),
written from Stratton in July, 1706, is throughout so wise and good,
that we give it without any curtailment. She was then past seventy years
of age, and no words could be more fitly pondered by the young, than
these from an aged and tried and experienced Christian woman.

"When I take my pen to write this, I am, by the goodness and mercy of
God, in a moderate and easy state of health--a blessing I have
thankfully felt through the course of a long life, which (with a much
greater help), the contemplation of a more durable state, has maintained
and upheld me through varieties of providences and conditions of life.
But all the delights and sorrows of this mixed state must end; and I
feel the decays that attend old age creep so fast on me, that, although
I may yet get over some more years however, I ought to make it my
frequent meditation, that the day is near, when this earthly tabernacle
shall be dissolved, and my immortal spirit be received into that place
of purity, where no unclean thing can enter; there to sing eternal
praises to the great Creator of all things. With the Psalmist, I
believe, 'at His right hand there are pleasures for evermore:' and what
is good and of eternal duration, must be joyful above what we can
conceive; as what is evil and of like duration, must be despairingly
miserable.

"And now, my dear child, I pray, I beseech you, I conjure you, my loved
son, consider what there is of felicity in this world, that can
compensate the hazard of losing an everlasting easy being; and then
deliberately weigh, whether or no the delights and gratifications of a
vicious or idle course of life are such, that a wise or thoughtful man
would choose or submit to. Again, fancy its enjoyments at the height
imagination can propose or suggest (which yet rarely or never happens,
or if it does, as a vapour soon vanishes); but let us grant it could,
and last to fourscore years, is this more than the quickest thought to
eternity? Oh, my child! fix on that word, eternity! Old Hobbes, with all
his fancied strength of reason, could never endure to rest or stay upon
that thought, but ran from it to some miserable amusement. I remember to
have read of some man, who reading in the Bible something that checked
him, he threw it on the ground; the book fell open, and his eyes fixed
on the word eternity, which so struck upon his mind, that he, from a bad
liver, became a most holy man. Certainly, nothing besides the belief of
reward and punishment can make a man truly happy in his life, at his
death, and after death. Keep innocency, and take heed to the thing that
is right; for that shall bring a man peace at the last--peace in the
evening of each day, peace in the day of death, and peace after death.

"For my own part, I apprehend, I should not much care (if free from
pain) what my portion in this world was,--if a life to continue, perhaps
one year or twenty, or eighty; but then, to be dust, not to know or be
known any more,--this is a thought that has something of horror in it to
me, and always had; and would make me careless, if it were to be long or
short; but to live, to die, to live again, has a joy in it; and how
inexpressible is that joy, if we secure an humble hope to live ever
happily; and this we may do, if we take care to live agreeably to our
rational faculties, which also best secures health, strength, and peace
of mind, the greatest blessings on earth.

"Believe the word of God, the Holy Scriptures. What most hinders faith,
I am persuaded, is ignorance of God's true nature. Look up to the
firmament, and down to the deep, how can any doubt a divine power? And
if there is, what can be impossible to infinite power? Then, why an
infidel in the world? In His Gospel the terrors of God's majesty are
laid aside, and He speaks in the still and soft voice of His Son
incarnate, the fountain and spring whence flow gladness. The idolatrous
heathen perform their worship with trouble and terror; but a Christian,
and a good liver, with a merry heart and lightsome spirit: for, examine
and consider well, where is the hardship of a virtuous life? (when we
have moderated our irregular habits and passions, and subdued them to
the obedience of reason and religion). We are free to all the innocent
gratifications and delights of life; and we may lawfully, nay, further I
say, we ought to rejoice in this beautiful world, and all the
conveniences and provisions, even for pleasure, we find in it; and
which, in much goodness, is afforded us to sweeten and allay the labours
and troubles incident to this mortal state, nay, inseparable, I believe,
by disappointments, cross accidents, bad health, unkind returns for good
deeds, mistakes even among friends, and what is most touching, death
of friends.

"But in the worst of these calamities, the thought of a happy eternity
does not alone support, but also revive the spirit of a man; and he
goeth forth to his labour with inward comfort, till the evening of his
day (that is, his life on earth), and, with the Psalmist, cries out, 'I
will consider the heavens even the work of Thy fingers, the moon and the
stars which Thou hast ordained. What is man, that Thou art mindful of
him? or the son of man, that Thou shouldest so regard him?' (Psalm
viii.) 'Thou madest him lower than the angels, to crown him with glory.'
Here is matter of praise and gladness. 'The fool,' as the Psalmist
expresses it, 'hath said in his heart, There is no God.' Or, let us
consider the man, who is content to own an invisible power, yet tries to
believe, that when man has done living on this earth he lives no more:
but I would ask, if any of these unhappy creatures are fully persuaded,
or that there does not remain in those men at times (as in sickness or
sober thoughtfulness) some suspicion or doubt, that it may be other than
they try to think. And although they may, to shun such a thought, or be
rid of such a contemplation, run away from it to some unprofitable
diversion, or, perhaps, suffer themselves to be rallied out of such a
thought, so destructive to the way they walk in; yet, to be sure, that
man does not feel the peace and tranquillity he does who believes a
future state, and is a good man.

"For, although this good man, when his mind may be clouded with some
calamity very grievous to him, or the disorder of vapours to a
melancholy temper, I say, if he is tempted to some suspicion, that it is
possible it may be other than he believes (pray observe) such a surmise
or thought, nay, the belief, cannot drive him to any horror: he fears no
evil, because he is a good man, and with his life all sorrow ends too:
therefore, it is not to be denied, he is the wisest man who lives by the
Scripture rule, and endeavours to keep God's laws. His mind is in peace
and tranquillity; he walks sure who keeps innocence, and takes heed to
the thing that is right. He is secure, God is his friend, that Infinite
Being; and He has said, 'Come unto Me, ye that are heavy laden, My yoke
is easy.' But guilt is, certainly, a heavy load; it sinks and damps the
spirits. 'A wounded spirit who can bear!' And the evil subtle spirit
waits (I am persuaded) to drive the sinner to despair; but godliness
makes a cheerful heart. Let not past errors discourage; who lives and
sins not? God will judge the obstinate, profane, unrelenting sinner, but
is full of compassion to the work of His own hand, if they will cease
from doing evil and learn to do well, pray for grace to repent, and
endeavour with that measure which will be given, if sincerely asked for;
for at what time soever a sinner repents (but observe, this is no
licence to sin, because at any time we may repent), for that day we may
not live to see; and so like the fool in the parable, our lamps be
untrimmed when we are called upon. Remember, that to forsake vice is the
beginning of virtue; and virtue certainly is most conducive to content
of mind and a cheerful spirit. He (the virtuous man) rejoiceth with a
friend in the good things he enjoys; fears not the reproaches of any; no
evil spirit can approach to hurt him here, or accuse him in the great
day of the Lord, when every soul shall be judged according as they have
done good or evil. Oh, blessed state! fit for life, fit for death! In
this good state I wish and pray for all mankind; but most particularly,
and with all the ardour I am capable of, to those I have brought into
the world, and those dear to them. Thus are my fervent and frequent
prayers directed,--that you may die the death of the righteous, and to
this end, that Almighty God would endue you all with spiritual wisdom,
to discern what is pleasing in His sight."




XI.

On May 28, 1716, she wrote to her kinsman, the Earl of Galway the second
son of the old Marquis de Ruvigny. The elder son was killed at the
battle of the Boyne; King William created the brother Earl of Galway. To
him the aged lady thus wrote: "'Tis our duty to pray for and trust in
the merciful providence of God; then it shall be well in the end, in
this world or a better. I beseech God to give the consolation of His
Holy Spirit to enable you to struggle with bodily pains; your
resignation I have no doubt of, yet Nature will shrink, when the weight
is heavy, and presses hard, which will not be imputed, because it
is natural.

"I also pray to God to fortify your spirit under every trial, till
eternity swallows all our troubles, all our sorrows, all our
disappointments, and all our pains in this life. The longest, how short
to eternity! All these ought to be my own care to improve my weak self,
as the fortitude of your mind, experiences, and knowledge does to you.
And I pray for such a portion of them in mercy to me, as may secure an
endless glorifying, to so feeble, so ignorant, so mean a creature as
myself, that I cannot be too little in my own sight.

"If there be a regency, the intended journey to Chatsworth must be laid
aside, as I must now lay aside my pen for want of the day. I am certain
of this being a truth, that I am,

"Faithfully and affectionately yours,

"R. RUSSELL."

Later letters to Lord Galway are couched in the same way, the last one
thus ending--

"God, for the good you do mankind, grant you some easy years to do good
upon earth before you change for a happy eternity. So does desire and
pray Lord Galway's truly affectionate cousin, and faithfully such to
gratify to the utmost of her ability, R. RUSSELL."

The dear old lady speaks in this letter of "evening creeping upon her,"
but she lingered to an extreme old age, dying on September 29, 1723, in
her 87th year. She lived to see the Protestant rule firmly secured by
the Hanoverian succession. In public affairs she continued to take
interest, but always in subservience to the higher cause of moral and
spiritual advancement. In one of her last letters she says of the son of
the king, "I have inquired from Doctor Sloane how the Prince is to-day.
He says, 'In a way to do well.' I trust, in the mercy of God, all our
divisions shall be so with time."

One of her latest letters is dated September 4, 1716, addressed to her
second daughter, the Duchess of Devonshire: "It is to no use to murmur
that you could not be satisfied with taking the journey; the rather also
because I believe I should have done the same. It is so fine a season I
trust your return to Derbyshire will be easy; your mind would not have
been such had you not done as you did. I shall be easy with a line or
two from Lady Mary [her eldest daughter, who died unmarried in 1719] how
you got to Chatsworth. At your first coming you will have a great deal
to do, and so for the short time you can stay. I see no cause to fear,
but that all will be, as we are, quiet; it is the temper of most to
fear, or seem to do so." (She referred to the public tranquillity, of
which the rebellion of the year before had left doubts.) "The season is
exceedingly fine, not much burnt up; but the farmers, for talk's sake,
ever wishing for what they have not; but it is good walking, and that is
my best diversion. I cannot easily add any words to make this more a
diversion to you, than that I thank God I have as much health as my
years can have; and memory as yet enough to take a pleasure when I hear
of what I love most, and desire all good may be their portion; which
will afford content, while any thought whatever of good or ill remains
in the head or heart of

"Your ever-affectionate mother, R. RUSSELL."

The spirit in which she bore the first overwhelming passion of grief may
be best seen in the letters written by her to Doctor Fitzwilliam, who
had been chaplain at Woburn, and who afterwards returned them to Mr.
Solwood, the librarian there, by whom they were published. In 1819
another volume of letters was published, from the originals in the
possession of the Duke of Devonshire. These range from her early married
life down to her extreme old age; and contained greater variety of
reference to the passing events of her time than are found in the Woburn
letters, which are chiefly occupied with personal feelings and
experiences. From them may be obtained as perfect a portraiture of Lady
Russell as can be desired.

"Her letters," says Bishop Burnet, "are written with an elegant
simplicity, with truth and nature, which can flow only from the heart.
The tenderness and constancy of her affection for her murdered lord
presents an image to melt the soul." Horace Walpole says, "I have now
before me a volume of letters of the widow of the beheaded Lord Russell,
which are full of the most moving and impressive eloquence." In fact it
would be difficult to find a combination of so much good sense, tender
affection, womanly fortitude, and deep piety in any collection of
letters. It is observable also that in the whole course of these letters
there is not to be found a trace of resentment or of reflection upon any
person who had caused her husband's death. When James II. was no more
king, but a fugitive in a foreign land, she utters no word of triumph
over him, nor says that he was justly punished for his cruel crimes.
Even the inhuman Jefferies, whose violence helped to get her husband
condemned, is passed over in silence, and no reference is made to his
disgrace, and his shameful end. She had attained to such moderation of
spirit that no trace of anger appears against the unworthy instruments
that had brought overwhelming grief upon her. In nothing more than this
is the excellence of her Christian character conspicuous.

JAMES MACAULAY, M.A., M.D.




Frances Ridley Havergal

I.

HER EARLY LIFE.

     "Oh, 'Thine for ever!' What a blessed thing
        To be for ever His who died for me!
      My Saviour, all my life Thy praise I'll sing,
        Nor cease my song throughout eternity."

[Illustration]

Such were the words penned by Frances Ridley Havergal on an important
day in her history; and they seem to be a fit expression of the purpose
of one, the strains of whose songs shall reverberate through all ages.

Frances Ridley Havergal was born at Astley in Worcestershire on December
14, 1836. She was the youngest daughter of William Henry Havergal, who
was rector of Astley. Her second Christian name she got from her
godfather, Rev. W.H. Ridley, and rejoiced in the fact that he was
descended from the godly martyr, Bishop Ridley.

Her eldest sister Miriam gives a glowing description of Frances:[1]

[Footnote 1: The quotations, when not otherwise acknowledged, are made,
and the chief of the facts taken, by kind permission of Messrs. Nisbet &
Sons, from _Memorials of Frances Ridley Havergal_.]

"My recollection of Frances begins with the first day of her life; a
pretty little babe even then, and by the time she reached two years of
age, with her fair complexion, light curling hair, and bright
expression, a prettier child was seldom seen. At that age she spoke with
perfect distinctness, and with greater fluency and variety of language
than is usual in so young a child. She comprehended and enjoyed any
little stories that were told her. I remember her animated look of
attention when the Rev. J. East told her about a little Mary who loved
the Lord Jesus. We were all taught to read early and to repeat by our
dear mother, but as I had now left school I undertook the charming
little pupil, teaching her reading, spelling, and a rhyme (generally one
of Jane Taylor's), for half an hour every morning, and in the afternoon
twenty or thirty stitches of patchwork, with a very short text to repeat
next morning at breakfast. When three years old she could read easy
books, and her brother Frank remembers how often she was found hiding
under a table with some engrossing story. At four years old, Frances
could read the Bible and any ordinary book correctly, and had learned to
write in round hand; French and music were gradually added; but great
care was always taken not to tire her or excite the precocity of her
mind, and she never had a regular governess."

In the year 1859 she began to write an autobiography, commencing with
her recollections of herself and her surroundings when she was four
years old. She thus writes: "Up to the time that I was six years old I
have no remembrance of any religious ideas whatever. Even when taken
once to see the corpse of a little boy of my own age (four years) lying
in a coffin strewn with flowers, in dear papa's parish of Astley, I did
not think about it as otherwise than a very sad and very curious thing
that that little child should lie so still and cold.... But from six to
eight I recall a different state of things. The beginning of it was a
sermon preached one Sunday morning at Hallow Church by Mr. (now
Archdeacon) Phillpots. Of this I even now retain a distinct impression.
It was to me a very terrible one, dwelling much on hell and judgment,
and what a fearful thing it is to fall into the hands of the living God.
No one ever knew it, but this sermon haunted me, and day and night it
crossed me. I began to pray a good deal, though only night and morning,
with a sort of fidget and impatience, almost angry at feeling so
unhappy, and wanting and expecting a new heart and have everything put
straight and be made happy, all at once."

All this time she could not bear being "talked to," or prayed with,
though she kept up a custom of going by herself every Sunday afternoon
to a quiet room, and after reading a chapter in the New Testament would
kneel down and pray; after that she "usually felt soothed and
less naughty."

She appears even as a child to have appreciated very keenly the beauties
of nature, and in the spring of 1845 she was most anxious to be made "a
Christian before the summer comes" so that she might enjoy God's works
as she believed a Christian alone could do.

Another soothing influence upon her spirited nature was the presence of
any one whom she felt to be more than commonly holy, "not among those
nearest and dearest to me at home," she confesses: "how perversely I
overlooked them!--but any very pious clergyman or other manifest and
shining Christian." "All this while," she continues, "I don't think any
one could have given the remotest guess at what passed in my mind, or
have given me credit for a single serious thought. I knew I was 'a
naughty child,'--never entertained any doubts on the subject; in fact I
almost enjoyed my naughtiness in a savage desperate kind of way because
I utterly despaired of getting any better, except by being 'made a
Christian,' which as months passed on, leaving me rather worse than
better, was a less and less hoped-for, though more and more
longed-for change."

When she was nearly nine years old, Mr. Havergal was appointed to the
rectory of St. Nicholas, Worcester, and thither the family removed. Soon
after their arrival, a sermon by the curate upon the text, "Fear not,
little flock," aroused her from the feeling of self-satisfaction into
which she had drifted. Having a favourable opportunity, she unburdened
her heart one evening when alone with the curate, but he did not help
the young seeker after peace. He said the excitement of moving and
coming into new scenes was the cause most likely of her feeling worse,
and that would soon go off; then she was to try and be a good girl and
pray. So after that her lips were utterly sealed to all but God for
another few years or rather more.

In 1848 her mother became seriously ill, and feeling that she was soon
to leave her little girl, she said to her one evening: "Fanny dear, pray
to God to prepare you for all that He is preparing for you." The sad
event which the mother thus anticipated Frances could not or would not
understand.

But what God had prepared for her she did in some measure realise when,
a few weeks later, outside the house a funeral procession passed from
the rectory to the churchyard, and inside a little girl flung herself on
her bed with the lonely cry of a motherless heart, "Oh, mamma, mamma,
mamma!" Her bright and apparently thoughtless manner led to the idea
that she was heartless, but all the while she was heavy and sad for her
loss, and weary because she had not yet received pardon of her sins.

Thus she went on, longing and trying to find peace, until she was
fourteen years of age.




II.

RECEIVING "LIFE."

On August 15, 1850, Frances went to school at Belmont. The night before
she left, her sister Ellen spoke to her of God's love, and she gave to
her the first indication of her real feelings in the words, "I can't
love God yet, Nellie!" But it was not to be so for long, however.
During the first half-year at school a "revival," as she calls it, took
place among the school girls, and she began to be more in earnest about
her soul. One night she got into conversation with a Christian
companion, and bursting into tears told her in French that she wished to
love Jesus but could not. Her companion begged her to go to Jesus and
tell Him this. Of this advice she says, "The words of wise and even
eminent men have since then fallen on my ear, but few have brought the
dewy refreshment to my soul which the simple loving words of my little
Heaven-taught schoolfellow did." But peace had not yet come into
her soul.

At length, in February, 1851, Frances made a confidante of Miss Cook,
who in July, 1851, became her stepmother, and confessed that she desired
pardon of her sins above everything else. She thus writes in her
autobiography: "'Then, Fanny,' said Miss Cook, 'I think, _I am sure_, it
will not be very long before your desire is granted, your hope
fulfilled." After a few more words, she said, "Why cannot you trust
yourself to your Saviour at once? Supposing that now, at this moment,
Christ were to come in the clouds of heaven, and take up His redeemed,
could you not trust Him? Would not His call, His promise be enough for
you? Could you not commit your soul to Him, to your Saviour, Jesus?'
Then came a flash of hope across me which made me feel literally
breathless. I remember how my heart beat. 'I _could_ surely,' was my
response; and I left her suddenly and ran away upstairs to think it out.
I flung myself on my knees in my room, and strove to realise the sudden
hope. I was very happy at last. I could commit my soul to Jesus. I did
not and need not fear His coming. I could trust Him with my all for
eternity. It was so utterly new to have any bright thoughts about
religion that I could hardly believe it could be so, that I really had
gained such a step. Then and there I committed my soul to the Saviour--I
do not mean to say without _any_ trembling or fear, but I did--and earth
and heaven seemed bright from that moment--_I did trust the
Lord Jesus_."

In August, 1851, she went to school at Powick Court, near Worcester;
but, owing to severe erysipelas in her face and head, she soon had to
leave, and was ordered by the doctor to discontinue all study. She spent
some time in Wales, and learnt Welsh very quickly. In November, 1852,
she went with her parents to Germany, and attended school, standing
alone as a follower of the Saviour among one hundred and ten girls. She
progressed very rapidly in her studies. Though as a rule no girl was
numbered in order of merit unless she had learnt everything (and she,
through lack of time, had not done so), yet at the end of the term on
the prize-giving day, when the names were called out, she heard with
unspeakable pleasure the words, "Frances Havergal, _numero eins_!"
(number one). The "Engländerin's" papers and conduct were so good that
the masters agreed in council assembled to break through the rule for
once and give her the place she deserved.

Her German master at Obercassel, Pastor Schulze-Berge, thus wrote of
her: "She showed from the first such application, such rare talent, such
depth of comprehension, that I can only speak of her progress as
extraordinary. She acquired such a knowledge of our most celebrated
authors in a short time as even German ladies attain only after much
longer study."

She returned to England with her parents in December, 1853. On July 17,
1854, she was confirmed in Worcester Cathedral. In her case this public
profession was a very real act. When asked by the bishop the solemn
question to which all have audibly to answer, "I do," the reply of her
heart was, "Lord, I cannot without Thee; but oh, with Thy almighty help,
I do." In the cathedral she composed the lines with which this sketch
begins. She always kept very solemnly the anniversary of this day.

She continued her German, French and English studies, and wrote many
small pieces of poetry, the proceeds of which she gave to the Church
Missionary Society. In the summer of 1856 she studied Hebrew very
diligently; her knowledge and remembrance of the words of Scripture were
very remarkable; she learnt the whole of the Gospels, Epistles,
Revelation, the Psalms, and Isaiah, and later she added the Minor
Prophets to the list.

While she thus grew in knowledge she grew also in grace. In August,
1859, she wrote: "I have lost that weary bondage of doubt and almost
despair which chained me for so many years. I have the same sins and
temptation as before, and I do not strive against them more than before,
and it is often just as hard work. But whereas I could not see why I
_should_ be saved, I now cannot see why I should not be saved if Christ
died for all. On that word I take my stand, and _rest_ there. I still
wait for the hour when I believe He will reveal Himself to me more
directly; but it is the quiet waiting of present _trust_, not the
restless waiting of anxiety and danger." That hour, in God's good
time, did come.

In 1860 Canon Havergal resigned the rectory of St. Nicholas, Worcester,
and Frances had to give up a class of unruly lads which she had taught
with much success, one of the class becoming a minister of the Church of
England, and another a Scripture-reader. The family removed to the
country parish of Shareshill.

In 1861 Frances K. Havergal made her home at Oakhampton, the residence
of her sister, and undertook the instruction of her two nieces. Her aim
in teaching them was to fit them for eternity, but she did not fail to
throw herself into their amusements and recreations, which she took up
with her accustomed earnestness.

In the winter of 1865-66 F.R. Havergal visited her friends in Germany,
and spent some time with her parents at Bonn. In 1806 her nieces went to
school, and Frances left Oakhampton to reside at home.

Once again she confesses the presence of clouds on the horizon of her
faith. "In reading, when one's heart leaps at some precious promise made
to the children of God, a cold check comes, 'Am _I_ one of them? what is
my title?' Answer: 'Ye are all the children of God by faith in Jesus
Christ.' Have I faith? Once introduce that _I_, and you get bewildered
between faith and feeling. When I go on and grapple with the difficulty,
it comes to this. As far as I know, I have come to Jesus, not once but
many times. I have knelt and literally prostrated myself before Him, and
told Him all, I have no other hope but what His _written_ word _says_ He
did and said, that I know it is true, that the salvation it tells of is
just _what_ I want, and _all_ I want, and that my heart goes out to it,
and that I do accept it; that I do not fully grasp it, but I _cling_ to
it; that I want to be His only and entirely, now and for ever."

On September 23, 1867, she joined the Young Women's Christian
Association, and found great benefit from her membership. She showed her
practical interest in the Church Missionary and Irish Societies by
wishing to give lessons in singing and German, the proceeds of which
these societies were to have.

On April 19, 1870, she was called upon to part with her beloved father,
after a short illness. In one of her poems she speaks of his

     "Valiant cry, a witness strong and clear,
      A trumpet with no dull uncertain sound."

Soon after his death she prepared for the press _Havergal's Psalmody_,
which was afterwards largely used in the compiling of the Rev C. B.
Snepp's hymn-book, called _Songs of Grace and Glory_, for which, she
herself wrote several hymns. In June, 1871, she accompanied her friend
Elizabeth Clay on a visit to Switzerland; there she thoroughly enjoyed
the Alpine climbing, and revelled in the grand scenery of Mont Blanc and
other snow mountains. On a subsequent visit Mont Blanc was ascended as
far as the Grand Mulets. Here her delight in the exhilarating exercise
of glissading landed her in a danger which, but for the presence of mind
of Mr. Snepp, must have ended fatally to herself and one of the guides.




III.

LIFE MORE ABUNDANTLY.

We have now reached a time when Frances Ridley Havergal made a marked
advance in spiritual life. It was the close of 1873. She received one
day by post a little book entitled _All for Jesus_. She thus wrote about
it to the clergyman who sent it to her: "_All for Jesus_ has touched me
very much.... I know I love Jesus, and there are times when I feel such
intensity of love to Him that I have no words to describe it. I rejoice
too in Him as my 'Master' and 'Sovereign;' but I want to come nearer
still, to have the full realisation of John xiv. 21--['He that hath My
commandments, and keepeth them, he it is that loveth Me; and he that
loveth Me shall be loved of My Father, and I will love him, and manifest
Myself to him']--and to know the power of His resurrection,' even if it
be with 'the fellowship of His sufferings;' and all this, not exactly
for my own joy alone, but for others."

In reply to a letter from the clergyman, she wrote:[1] "I know I am not
standing where I was two or three years ago. I think I first came to
Jesus when I was only fourteen years of age, and I have been 'on the
Lord's side' ever since. But of late, life has been a totally different
thing to me, unspeakably brighter; Jesus so infinitely more precious:
His service so infinitely sweeter and freer." But with this happiness
she felt that there was a fuller consecration to God's service, to which
she had not yet been able to yield herself. In a further communication
her correspondent reminded her of the truth that Jesus is able to keep
us from falling, and abiding in Him, His blood cleanseth, _i.e._ goes on
cleansing from all sin. "For conscious sin there is instant confession
and instant forgiveness."

[Footnote 1: _Such a Blessing_, p. 13.]

These words, though so simple, were made by the Holy Spirit a great
comfort and help to her spiritual life. She replied,[1] "I see it all,
and I _have_ the blessing. But I cannot write about it yet, not even to
you. I want first to test my gold and to count my new treasure. In two
or three weeks (b.v.) I will write and tell you all about it."

[Footnote 1: _Ibid_., p. 15.]

The promised letter was duly sent, and in it she says,[1] "Your words,
'His blood _goes on_ cleansing from unconscious sin,' and 'for conscious
sin there is instant confession and instant forgiveness,' seem to
include every need, and to settle all doubts and fears. Only one wants
the holiness to be deep, inner _reality_: and so, I pray to be kept from
unconscious, as well as from conscious sin. I do not want only to
_think_ I am not sinning. It is so sweet to look up to Jesus, in the joy
of His keeping, and to tell Him how one longs, not merely not to grieve
Him any more, but to please, really and truly _please_ Him, all the days
of my life. I had no idea there was such a blessing linked with being
led into this truth." In a further letter she writes, "I never hated sin
as I do now; and though I honestly thought I had given myself without
reserve to Christ in full consecration, yet I see that there was an
unconscious reserve of many little things."

[Footnote 1: _Ibid_., p. 20.]

The practical effect of this fuller insight into the blessings to be had
by those who yield themselves up to Jesus Christ in simple faith, "was
evident," remarks her sister, "in her daily true-hearted, whole-hearted
service for her King, and also in the increased joyousness of the
unswerving obedience of her home life, the surest test of all. To the
reality of this I do most willingly and fully testify."

In 1874 F.R. Havergal went again to Switzerland. The first month of the
visit was spent in quietly enjoying the scenery, and becoming braced up
by the invigorating air. During the second month she began working at
various literary projects, the chief being the writing of her poem
"Thoughts of God." The composition of this was often, however,
interrupted by little acts of ministry, cheerfully undertaken on behalf
of the spiritual needs of the Swiss around her.

She returned from Switzerland in good health, and resumed her active
work at home. At one time it was helping a young friend into light and
peace; at another, it was making an appointment to break her journey at
Willesden Station, to talk with some one in trouble. For "it will be
worth ANY fatigue if I can comfort her," was her unselfish remark. Amid
so much activity, little could she have anticipated what was so soon to
befall her.




IV.

TRIED IN THE FURNACE OF PAIN.

The journey was broken as arranged, though Frances R. Havergal was by
that time very ill. Through some mistake she waited an hour and a half
before the friend came, and then took her with her some miles so that
they might not lose the longed-for interview. When home was reached, she
was seized with shivering, fever set in and was pronounced to be typhoid
fever. In the middle of November, 1874, it was thought her end was near.
But prayer, continued and earnest, was made that her valuable life might
be spared, and God graciously heard and answered, and brought her back
from the gates of death. When asked afterwards if she had any fear of
dying, her answer was, "Oh no, not a shadow." "Then was it delightful to
think you were going home, dear Fan?" "No, it was not the idea of going
home, but that _He_ was coming for me and that I should _see my King_.
I never thought of death as going through the dark valley, or down to
the river; it often seemed to me a going up to the golden gates and
lying there in the brightness, just waiting for the gate to open for
me.... I never before was, so to speak, face to face with death. It was
like a look into heaven, and yet when my Father sent me back again, I
felt it was His will, and so I could not be disappointed."

In January, 1875, she was removed to Winterdyne, where she heard of the
sudden death of her brother Henry. After a few days a relapse set in,
and her stepmother was sent for. After the fever had passed away she
suffered very severe pain. She remarked to her sister once, "Oh, Marie,
if I might but have five minutes' ease from pain! I don't want ever to
moan when gentle sister Ellen comes in. How I am troubling you all!"

Health gradually returned to her, and with it she recommenced her active
work for the Master.




V.

COMING FORTH AS GOLD.

The Refiner's work in F.R. Havergal was very evident. Of this year's
illness and slow convalesence she speaks: "It has been the most precious
year of my life to me. It is worth any suffering to prove for oneself
the truth of 'when thou passest through the waters I will be with thee,'
and worth being turned back (as it seemed) from the very golden gates if
one may but 'tell of all His faithfulness.' It is so real."

"For two or three weeks [during my illness]," she writes again, "I was
too prostrate for any consecutive prayer, or for even a text to be given
me; and this was the time for realising what 'silent in love' meant
(Zeph. iii. 17). And then it seemed doubly sweet when I was again able
to 'hold converse' with Him. He seemed too so often to send answers from
His own word with wonderful power. One evening (after a relapse) I
longed so much to be able to pray, but found I was too weak for the
least effort of thought, and I only looked up and said, 'Lord Jesus, I
am _so_ tired!' and then He brought to my mind 'rest in the Lord' with
its lovely marginal reading, 'be silent_ in the Lord;' and so I just was
silent to Him, and He seemed to overflow me with perfect peace, in the
sense of His own perfect love."

When she was at length well enough to resume her literary work again,
she busied herself in preparing an Appendix with music to _Songs of
Grace and Glory_. She had completed it and sent it to the printers, and
was hoping to be able to commence a book which she had contemplated
writing, when she had the disappointing news that a fire at the
printers' had destroyed the stereotype plates and paper as well as the
MS.; and as she had kept no copy of the tunes, all her work had to be
done over again. This "turned lesson," as she regarded it, was accepted
with beautiful patience.

After a visit to Newport, Monmouth, followed by one to Ashley Moor, she
spent some time in Switzerland. Here her quiet work went on among
tourists and invalids, as well as Swiss. It was on this visit to
Switzerland that she began the friendship with Baroness Helga V. Cramm,
whose painted cards blend so beautifully with her words.

Towards the end of August, symptoms of her illness recurred, and she had
not strength to return to England until October. It was on her journey
back that the idea of her book _My King_ came to her. It was, says her
sister, at Oxford station on the way to Winterdyne. "I thought Frances
was dozing when she exclaimed, with that herald flash in her eye,
'Marie! I see it all; I can write a little book, _My King_;' and rapidly
went through divisions for thirty-one chapters."

The writer of this short biography may here refer to a
never-to-be-forgotten hour that he spent with Frances R. Havergal. He
had sent her some lines suggested by this little book, of which she most
kindly expressed her approval, and naturally the book _My King_ formed
the subject of conversation, and she expressed her gratitude that she
had been led to write this and other of her books in chapters for each
day in the month; "for," said she, "they are read through in many cases
twelve times a year instead of being perused once and thrown aside."

The year 1877 was passed uneventfully in paying various visits to
relatives. But though uneventfully spent, not by any means idly or
unprofitably, for her time was fully occupied with literary work.

A little later on we get a glimpse of this busy worker in another
sphere. She had gone to Mildmay Park for rest.

"68, Mildmay Park, October, 1877.

"I was going away on Saturday, but caught cold at the quarterly meeting
of the Association of Female Workers, ... so I resigned myself to an
extra week here; and verily, they _do_ know how to nurse, _and_ what's
more (!) how to keep you quiet. Also, they do know how to pray! I have
learned a little, I hope, on _that_ subject this last week. What I hear
and see here is quite a new light on intercessory prayer. I thought I
knew something of its power and reality, but I see I did not know much.

"Mrs. Pennefather took me (before my cold) to Clapton House. I only wish
every girl I care for was there; such a beautiful Christian school. I
got any amount of bright looks (as it seems they knew my books), and I
wanted exceedingly to go among them. Hearing the Principal say she would
be prevented taking their Bible class, I ventured the proposal to take
it. Afterwards, I had about a dozen all to myself in the drawing-

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