Excellent Women

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

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

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

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

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

VIII.

"UNDER THE SURFACE."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John P. Hobson, M.A.

HANNAH MORE

I.

EARLY II

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

II.

IN "VANITY FAIR."

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

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

One of Archbishop Seeker's charges contained the following startling statement:—"In this we cannot be mistaken, that an open and professed disregard of religion is become, through a variety of unhappy causes, the distinguishing character of the present age…. Indeed, it hath already brought in such dissoluteness and contempt of principle in the higher part of the world, and such profligate intemperance and fearlessness of committing crimes in the lower part, as must, if this torrent of impiety stop not, become absolutely fatal…. Christianity is now ridiculed and railed at with very little reserve; and the teachers of it without any at all."[16 - Charge to clergy, 1738. See vol. v. of Works, Dublin, 1775.]

The great lawyer, Blackstone, says he went from church to church to hear noted London preachers, and it was impossible for him to tell from their discourses whether these luminaries were followers of Confucius, Mahomet, or Christ. George III. felt compelled to address a letter of expostulation to Archbishop Cornwallis for giving balls and routs at Lambeth Palace on Saturday nights, so that they ran into Sunday morning.[17 - This letter may be found in The Life and Times of Lady Huntingdon.] The Church had given hardly a thought to either the religious or secular education of the masses. Gross ignorance pervaded the ranks of the poor all over England. Although the English Bible was in the people's hands, it was almost a dead letter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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