Excellent Women

AGNES JONES[53 - The extracts are made, by kind permission of Messrs. Nisbet & Co., from Agnes Jones, by her sister.]

CHAPTER I.

YOUTHFUL DAYS

A chance visitor to the Liverpool Workhouse on Brownlow Hill might be lost in wonder at its vastness, as he looked at its streets of large buildings and was told of its more than four thousand inhabitants. He would scarcely imagine that those bare-looking groups of buildings possess an historic interest. Yet to the Christian philanthropist it is holy ground, for there, in willing sacrifice for others, were spent the last years of the life of that saintly woman who gave the death-blow to the old system of pauper nursing and all its attendant evils. But we are looking at the stream as it enters the limitless ocean of eternity. We can do that again by-and-by. Let us turn now rather to the beginning of that stream of life and trace it onwards.

Agnes Elizabeth Jones was born at Cambridge on the 10th of November, 1832, the 12th Regiment, of which her father was the lieutenant-colonel, having arrived there only a few days before.

When Agnes was about five years of age, her father's regiment, which had previously been quartered at Cork, was ordered to Mauritius. The wonderfully varied and beautiful scenery of this little island—a tiny gem set in the heart of the Indian Ocean—with its curiously shaped mountains, and tropical trees and plants, made a wonderful impression on the mind of the child, and although she was only eleven years old when she left, she always cherished the memory of it.

But it was not only that her mind was roused to a keen appreciation of the beauties around her during her residence in Mauritius. The higher part of her nature, chiefly through the faithful teaching of one of the French pastors on the island, was also touched, and in the young heart there arose the longing to be safely folded in the arms of the Good Shepherd. A sentence in one of his sermons haunted her night and day:—"And now, brethren, if you cannot answer me, how will you at the last day answer the Great Searcher of hearts?" An arrow shot at a venture, it pierced her heart, and although she did not yet yield herself fully to God, she never entirely lost the desire to be His, even when apparently outwardly indifferent. We may well thank God for His servant's earnest ministry, for had he been less faithful, the whole course of that life, which was to prove so valuable in the service of the Lord, might have been changed.

From Madagascar, five hundred and fifty miles from Mauritius, yet its next-door neighbour westwards in the silver sea, there came, when Agnes was yet but seven years old, the tidings of a fearful persecution of the Christians. The letters received at that time told of indescribably dreadful sufferings for Christ's sake, and the sight of the Malagasy refugees who fled to Mauritius, fired her young soul with the desire to become a missionary. This desire, however, in her exceeding reserve, she kept to herself. God had other purposes for her, and it was amongst her own country people, and not in the foreign field, that He called her to labour.

After the return of her parents from Mauritius, the greater part of four years was spent in a beautiful spot at the foot of the hills of the Donegal Highlands on the banks of Lough Swilly, one of the loveliest of the Irish lakes. This period is spoken of by her sister as one in which she appeared utterly indifferent to spiritual things, yet some entries in her journal indicate an intense longing after a higher life. They certainly show that she knew the sinfulness of her own heart and the weakness of her resolutions, and that, in common with so many reserved natures, while hiding the true state of her feelings from others, she was much given to introspection and inclined to magnify her faults. Such reserved natures do not "wear their heart on their sleeve," and it should be a comfort to parents and teachers who are anxiously watching children to know that "things are not always what they seem," and that many a child who seems altogether careless is in reality not far from the kingdom.

In January, 1848, when a little over fifteen, she was sent to school at Stratford-on-Avon, and remained there until her father's death in 1850. The good discipline of this school and the wise guidance of her teachers had a most wholesome effect on the development of her character, and the steady, indomitable perseverance in the face of difficulties which so marked her after-life distinguished her then. By her painstaking and close attention she made up for her want of quickness in learning. Hence she never forgot what she had once learned.

The actual time of her conversion seems to have been during the period that she resided with her mother and sister in Dublin. To the earnest man of God whose ministry they attended, the preparation of the younger members of his flock for admission to the Lord's Supper was no perfunctory task. He introduced her, with others of his candidates, to one of his helpers as "anxious inquirers." So shy and reserved was Agnes that she said but little, yet this lady remarked of her:—"In the class her intense appetite for the living bread was so apparent, that I often felt myself speaking to her only, her calm gentle eyes fixed on me, as God helped me to speak."

It is impossible for those who have definitely accepted Christ's salvation, and who truly realise His love to perishing sinners, to be idlers in His vineyard. We are therefore not surprised to find her soon at work, her own particular plot being in the ragged school. Her needy little scholars were a great interest to her. She always showed the greatest sympathy and devotion to them, and while caring for their souls did not forget their bodily needs. Even when on a holiday she sought and found work amongst the poor. Indeed, distress of any kind always appealed to her heart.

There are some Christians who are very active in the outside world, but who forget that the first duty of a child of God is to "show piety at home." It was not so with Agnes Jones, for it was in the home that the beauty of her life was most visible, and it was in the family circle that the affection and unselfishness of her character shone most conspicuously. Others, indeed, could plainly see the development of the Christ-life in her, but she herself, dwelling as she did in the presence of her Lord, was prone to judge herself harshly. Thus, with every moment occupied, she charged herself with being lazy and negligent.

The first step towards the great work of her life was taken while on a visit to the Continent in 1853. During the May meetings in Paris, there was one held on behalf of the Oeuvre des Diaconesses, one of the branches of the Institution at Kaiserswerth on the Rhine, founded by Pastor Fliedner. This she attended, and was then first made acquainted with that work, which became of great interest to her, an interest which was much strengthened by a visit to Kaiserswerth itself about two months later. "As we drove away," she writes, "my great wish was that this might not be my last visit to Kaiserwerth…. That visit was, I believe, a talent committed to our care; may it not be buried."

So full was she of the conviction that by seeing more of the work at Kaiserswerth she would be the better fitted for her beloved work in Ireland, that she proposed that she should go there for a week. To her great joy her mother concurred in the proposal, and earnestly did Agnes pray that this visit might be blessed and sanctified by God to His glory.

She was charmed with all that she heard and saw at Kaiserswerth, with the love which was so manifest in all, with the intensity of purpose, the perfect obedience, the beautiful order, the incessant work without fuss or bustle, and above all with the spirit of prayer, which pervaded the whole institution. Her journals show how strong was her desire to return there for training, for she believed that "as we use means to fit us for any earthly profession, so are we bound to use every means which will enable us to adorn our Christian profession." Her friends, however, knew nothing of her wishes. They were told only in the ears of her God.

CHAPTER II.

AT WORK IN THE VINEYARD

For some time after her return from the Continent, Agnes Jones resumed her former work in Dublin, labouring more energetically than ever. In 1856, however, she and her mother returned to Fahan, the old home on the shore of Lough Swilly, always a favourite spot with her, not only because of the beauty of its scenery, but also because her beloved father was there laid to rest.

To the Christian who is ever on the watch opportunities for service are never lacking, and Agnes soon found her hands full. Did a child fall into the fire—a very common accident in that district—she must be fetched, for so gentle yet so firm was her touch in dressing wounds that the fame of her skill had spread for miles, and she was sent for from far and near, to Protestants and Roman Catholics alike. Was some one dying, still it was she who must come to smooth the pillow and speak the words of life.

The spiritual side of her work she never lost sight of, but made the rest subservient to this, as a means to an end, always reading the Bible if allowed, and following the reading by a simple but practical and faithful explanation. She was indeed "instant in season" and out of season. In all weathers she might be seen speeding along the lonely mountain roads, setting off soon after breakfast, to be at work the whole day, with the exception of the early dinner-time, and often not returning until after dark. She was tempted, as every other worker is, to relax her energies and to stay at home if the weather were bad, or if she were not feeling well; but instead of yielding, she would, if a bad headache came on, start off the earlier, that she might not lose the chance of a visit through the pain increasing. Yet her duties at home were never neglected. Rather than omit them, she would rise at five, that she might anticipate the wants of others, and save her mother trouble.

Agnes herself, in her intense humility, considered that she was an unsuccessful worker, and was inclined to condemn herself for lack of zeal and earnestness. But her work was a great joy to her, and especially did she love her happy talks with some of the aged Christians amongst the sixty families she regularly visited.

He is a rash soldier who ventures into the battle without a weapon tried and proved, and he can only be an unsuccessful Christian worker who does not make the Word of God the rule and guide of his life. To Agnes Jones the Bible was a constant study. She was a most earnest student of God's Word, and delighted to meditate upon it. In her journal she writes:—"What should I be without my Bible?" And again, realising the truth of the promise, "He that watereth shall be watered also himself," she says:—"God's Word often comes home more strongly to my own heart as I read to the poor, and try to make a few simple remarks." Little wonder is it that, knowing and loving His Word as she did, Christ was to her a very personal Saviour and Friend. Her one longing was for more and more likeness to Him.

CHAPTER III.

FOREIGN TRAINING

However strong and good our wishes may be, it is never safe to force on their accomplishment. They are never the losers who wait God's time, and the wisest course of all is the one which Agnes Jones pursued, of telling her wishes to God, and then, in perfect submission to His will, leaving the issue with Him.

It was not until seven years after her visit to Kaiserswerth that the way was made open for her to return there. This step had been suggested by her mother five years previously, but the filial spirit was so strong in her that, although she eagerly desired a more thorough training for God's service, she felt that her mother stood first, and refused to leave her alone. Now the case was different, and she gladly seized the opportunity. Still she was nervously fearful lest after all she should not be following the guiding pillar.

It was in the autumn of 1860 that she arrived at Kaiserswerth, where she immediately entered heartily into the work. Her intention was to stay for only a month, or at the most six weeks; but after she had been there but a short time, the pastor so strongly represented the great advantage it would be to her to spend the whole winter in the institution, that she felt constrained to write for her mother's permission to do so. As ever, she was full of prayer for God's guidance, and that whatever was done might be only for His glory. Her mother leaving the choice entirely with her, she decided to remain, believing that the training would be of inestimable use to her in her future work.

The Deaconesses' Institution at Kaiserswerth had a very small beginning. Pastor Fliedner, having heard of Mrs. Fry's work amongst female prisoners, was filled with longing to follow her example, and received two discharged prisoners, whose friends had refused them, with the object of giving them the chance of retrieving their character. He set them to work under the personal supervision of himself and his wife. The work soon increased, and assistance was needed. To the penitentiary were added an orphanage, a training-school, a hospital, and a lunatic asylum. More and more workers were drawn in, and at the time of Agnes Jones's first visit there were fifteen branches of the institution in different parts of the world. This number by the time of her second visit had increased to fifty.

The deaconesses as novices passed through every department of the work, and received a thorough training in both nursing and household work, the pastor wisely considering that if, when in visiting the poor, they could render them practical help, their words would prove far more effective. Much was made of Bible study, both public and private, and this, as well as the Stille Stunde (quiet hour), a half-hour daily set apart for prayer and meditation, could not but tend to give a spiritual tone to the whole work. Agnes revelled in all this, and found great happiness in the daily routine, in spite of much which was, perhaps, somewhat needless drudgery, such as sweeping and dusting her room, washing up after meals, and even black-leading stoves. She had, however, well learned the lesson that no action can be mean to the Christian if it come in the way of duty. Sometimes, indeed, it seemed a waste of strength to spend so much of the day in manual work, especially work which so injured her hands that for some time she was obliged to keep them poulticed, and was thus unable to assist in the hospital. Still she was, as she said herself, "as happy as the day is long, and it does not seem half long enough," in spite of a longing sometimes "for home sights and voices."

Soon after her arrival at Kaiserswerth, fourteen sick boys were given into her care for twelve hours a day. This was no easy task, particularly when she was left in sole charge of them, some being too far recovered to lie in bed, and needing to be kept at lessons or work. As the weeks rolled by, her work was changed, and in addition to other employment, she instructed a number of classes in English, both in the training-school and among the deaconesses. As for herself, she was daily becoming more proficient in German, and in a very short time was able easily to follow the sermon. This was a great enjoyment to her, as she much valued the truly evangelical teaching at Kaiserswerth.

At the end of three months of steady work, she spent a few days with an uncle and aunt who were staying at Bonn, but the gay boarding-house life contrasted so unfavourably with the happy Christian fellowship at Kaiserswerth, that she was thankful to return to her duties, playfully writing:—"The nun will not soon again leave her cell, for it was with very nun-like feelings she met the world again." Yet she was no misanthrope. She did not bring to God a heart which had tried earth's pleasures and had found them wanting, nor a life jaded with pursuing them. From the first, she had cast aside the love of worldly things, and had chosen to be wholly the Lord's.

During the latter part of her stay at Kaiserswerth, her duties lay entirely in the hospital. In January she wrote:—"My duties are in the children's hospital, all ages from two to twelve. It is a new life for me in a nursery of sick children, and a busy one too, for every moment they want something done for them."

A month or so later she was appointed superintendent of the boys' hospital, a post of peculiar responsibility and difficulty. It was one, too, from which she shrank, holding the mistaken idea that she possessed no powers of government. Certainly it was a position to tax the patience, for the children were not too ill to be noisy and disobedient, or even sometimes to unite in open rebellion, while the task was not rendered easier by the necessity of speaking in a foreign tongue.

Altogether she had a very busy life. She rose at 5.O A.M. every day, and kept hard at work, with the exception of the intervals for meals and the Stille Stunde (quiet hour), until night. "The cleaning and keeping my dominion in order is such a business," she writes. "Sweeping and washing the floor of the three rooms every morning, two stoves which must be black-leaded weekly, each taking an hour, weekly cleaning of windows, tins, dinner-chests, washing-up of bandages, &c., besides the washing-up after each of our five meals, keeps one busy." She must have been strong in those days, for she wrote:—"I come over from the other house every morning at six, the ground white and windows frozen over; often at three in the afternoon the water outside is still frozen, yet night or morning I never put on bonnet or handkerchief, unless when I go out for a walk."

From the first the hospital patients with their varied needs were a great interest to her. Now it is a dying man, beside whom she has to watch, longing to minister words of comfort, yet unable to do so, fearing that her then want of fluency in the language might trouble him in his weakness. Yet as she heard the poor man's cry, "Lieber Heiland, hilf mir" (Dear Saviour, help me), her prayers, too, rose for him to the compassionate Saviour. Now it is a little boy with a bad back, terrible sores, and a racking cough, who would let no one else touch him. "Every night," she says, "I used to pray with Otto after they were all in bed, and he used to put his poor little arm round my neck as I knelt beside him; but last night (the night before he died) he said of himself, 'I will only now pray that Jesus may take me to heaven, and that I may soon die,' and as I had put my face near him to hear, he said, 'Lay your cheek on mine, it does me so much good.'"

We have seen quite enough of Agnes Jones by this time to know that she never shrank from a duty, however repulsive. Her love for her Master, and her desire to serve others for His sake, preserved her from any fastidiousness. In spite of her sensitive and sympathetic nature she could bear to witness the most painful operations without flinching, for she kept before her mind the ultimate good which would accrue from the present suffering.

One day news reached Kaiserswerth of the deplorable condition of one of the English hospitals in Syria. Sick and well, it was stated, were crowded together in a place where rubbish of every kind was thrown, an insanitary condition anywhere, but especially so in an Eastern climate. Helpers, they said, were much needed. Agnes longed to step into the breach, and in a letter to her mother she says:—"The English send plenty of money, but hands are wanting. It is no new thought with me that mine are strong and willing; I would gladly offer them. Could my own mother bear to think of her child for the next few months as in Syria instead of Germany? It is but temporary, and yet an urgent case. My favourite motto came last Sunday, 'The Lord hath need;' if He has need of my mother's permission to her child He will enable her to give it. This is but the expression of a wish, and if my own mother were to be made too anxious by the granting it, let it be as if unasked by her own Agnes."

Her standard of filial obedience was indeed a high one, though no higher than the standard of God's Word. Before this, in asking permission to remain longer at Kaiserswerth, she had written to her mother:—"Your wishes shall be my guide, now and for the future, as long as I am blessed with such a loving counsellor. I trust my present training in obedience will not be lost in reference to home."

Although she thought the whole training at Kaiserswerth invaluable she wrote long after:—"I believe all I owe to Kaiserswerth was comprised in the lesson of unquestioning obedience." Those who would rule must first learn to obey, and certain it is that she would never have been fitted to be afterwards the head of a large institution hundreds to care for and govern, had she not so truly imbibed the spirit of obedience.

While she had a profound admiration for Kaiserswerth, she could still see that the life of a deaconess, shielded though it is from the world, is not exempt from danger. Some fancy that the life of a deaconess, or of any one similarly set apart, must be much more free from temptation than that of any ordinary person. "I think," she wrote, "every one is as much called on as a deaconess is to work for Him who first loved us; but if this does not constrain us as Christians, neither will it as deaconesses, and certainly the 'Anstalt' (Institution) is a world in which the Martha-spirit may be found as well as in the outer world. There are many most deeply taught Christians here, many whose faces shine, but I should say, comparing my home life (but few have such a home) with that of the deaconesses here, I should say that, in many positions here, there are more, not only daily but hourly temptations."

The fact that nursing was her vocation had for a long time been dawning on her mind, but the way to go to Syria did not seem open, and the Lord had other work for her. Almost by the same post there arrived two letters, one from Mrs. Ranyard, so well known as the originator of the London Bible Mission, suggesting that she should go and help her in the great work of superintending and training the Bible women, the other from a philanthropic gentleman, unfolding a plan for a proposed nurses' home in connection with an infirmary, and asking if she, after a few months' special training, would become its superintendent. Thus, while one door was shut, two others unexpectedly opened to her.

But which should she enter? This was the question which she prayerfully debated. She wished to lay out her life to the best interest for God, and both schemes had special attractiveness to her; the one, because of its intensely spiritual work; the other, because of her love for nursing, and the boundless possibilities for good there might be in training nurses. She feared, however, that as superintendent of the nurses' home she might be fettered in more definite Christian work. She felt she must be left in no uncertainty on this point. In her letter replying to the gentleman who had written to her, she said:—"You sent me the ground plan of the building, but I would ask, is its foundation and corner stone to be Christ and Him crucified, the only Saviour? Is the Christian training of the nurses to be the primary, and hospital skill the secondary object? I ask not that all should be of one Christian denomination, but what I do ask is that Jesus, the God-man, and His finished work of salvation for all who believe on Him, should be the basis, and the Bible the book of the institution. If this be your end and aim, then will I gladly pass through any course of training to be fitted to help in your work."

Soon after writing this letter she bade farewell to Kaiserswerth. Her plan was to go first to London to consult with Miss Nightingale and other friends as to her future. The seven months in Germany had been most happy ones, and she was ever thankful for the time she had spent there. She fully saw the great need of Christian training institutions. In those days the Evangelical Protestant churches, unlike the Romanists, who for many centuries had largely availed themselves of it, were not alive to the importance of the ministry of women. There were no institutions in England where Christian women could be trained to work for Christ, that work of all others the most important, and some, to secure the training they longed for, and could not get elsewhere, had even entered Roman Catholic sisterhoods. Times are changed now, thank God, and although there is still the need of more, there are many institutions where Christian women can be thoroughly and efficiently trained for service of different kinds at home and abroad.

CHAPTER IV.

IN LONDON SLUMS

As we have already seen, Agnes Jones distrusted her power to rule. This fact, added to her mother's dislike to her entering a hospital determined her, for the present at least, to join Mrs. Ranyard in the work of the Bible Mission, for she knew that while she would be relieving her friend of some of the burden of her work she would have ample opportunities of discovering whether she were fitted to govern.

She was soon busy in many ways, in mothers' meetings, Bible classes, industrial kitchens, dormitories, refuges, and in visiting with the Bible women. In every department of that varied work she was most helpful to Mrs. Ranyard, even taking the whole charge of the mission for two months while the latter was absent in Switzerland. She found her knowledge of German very useful, and turned it to the best account on several occasions when she met with German immigrants.

In the narrow courts and lanes of London, unthought of and unheeded by the busy throng, she found many of the Lord's jewels who, though poor in this world's goods and sick in body, were yet rich in faith and strong in soul. One of these, a woman who for thirty-two years had been a terrible sufferer, would whisper, "Blessed Jesus, in everything suitable. Just the Saviour suitable for me." Another, whom she several times mentions in her letters, and to whom she delighted to minister as a nurse, a poor cripple who had only the use of her thumb, and who from lying eighteen years in one position had terrible bed-sores, could yet say, "I am ashamed to talk of my suffering when I think of all Jesus suffered for me."

Her happy work in London was brought to a premature conclusion by a telegram announcing that her sister was ill of fever in Rome, followed by another begging her to go to her at once. A journey thither was not such an easy one then as it is now, but, after arranging all her work so as to give Mrs. Ranyard as little trouble as possible, Agnes bravely undertook it. A heavy storm was encountered at Marseilles, where she embarked for Italy, and this delayed her arrival in Rome, so that on reaching there she found her sister out of danger. A cousin, however, who had formed one of the party, had fallen ill of the same fever, and needed careful nursing, so that she found her hands full, and, as the recovery of both invalids was slow, she determined to give up her London work, and devote herself to them.